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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77804 ***
+
+
+
+
+                         THE MAN WHO MARRIED
+                              THE MOON
+                AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES
+
+                                 BY
+
+                          CHARLES F. LUMMIS
+          _AUTHOR OF “SOME STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY”
+                     “A NEW MEXICO DAVID,” ETC._
+
+
+                           [Illustration]
+
+
+                              NEW YORK
+                           THE CENTURY CO.
+                                1894
+
+
+
+
+                    Copyright, 1891, 1892, 1894,
+                         By The Century Co.
+
+                         The De Vinne Press.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE BOY IN THE HOUSE OF THE TRUES. (SEE PAGE
+      115.)]
+
+
+
+
+                                 To
+                  the Fairy Tale that came true in
+                      the Home of the Tée-wahn
+                          My Wife and Child
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                    PAGE
+  Introduction: The Brown Story-Tellers                1
+
+       I The Antelope Boy                             12
+
+      II The Coyote and the Crows                     22
+
+     III The War-Dance of the Mice                    24
+
+      IV The Coyote and the Blackbirds                27
+
+       V The Coyote and the Bear                      30
+
+      VI The First of the Rattlesnakes                34
+
+     VII The Coyote and the Woodpecker                49
+
+    VIII The Man who Married the Moon                 53
+
+      IX The Mother Moon                              71
+
+       X The Maker of the Thunder-Knives              74
+
+      XI The Stone-Moving Song                        82
+
+     XII The Coyote and the Thunder-Knife             84
+
+    XIII The Magic Hide-and-Seek                      87
+
+     XIV The Race of the Tails                        99
+
+      XV Honest Big-Ears                             103
+
+     XVI The Feathered Barbers                       106
+
+    XVII The Accursed Lake                           108
+
+   XVIII The Moqui Boy and the Eagle                 122
+
+     XIX The North Wind and the South Wind           127
+
+      XX The Town of the Snake-Girls                 130
+
+     XXI The Drowning of Pecos                       137
+
+    XXII The Ants that Pushed on the Sky             147
+
+   XXIII The Man who Wouldn’t Keep Sunday            161
+
+    XXIV The Brave Bobtails                          169
+
+     XXV The Revenge of the Fawns                    178
+
+    XXVI The Sobbing Pine                            194
+
+   XXVII The Quères Diana                            200
+
+  XXVIII A Pueblo Bluebeard                          203
+
+    XXIX The Hero Twins                              206
+
+     XXX The Hungry Grandfathers                     215
+
+    XXXI The Coyote                                  222
+
+   XXXII Doctor Field-Mouse                          232
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                                  PAGE
+  The Boy in the House of the Trues                       FRONTISPIECE
+
+  “As I come in, kindly old Tata Lorenso is just
+    beginning a Story”                                               7
+
+  The Coyote carries the Baby to the Antelope
+    Mother                                                          15
+
+  Rain falls on Pée-k’hoo                                           18
+
+  “The two Runners came sweeping down the Home-stretch,
+    straining every Nerve”                                          20
+
+  “As He caught the Hoop He was instantly changed
+    into a poor Coyote!”                                            37
+
+  “Coyote, are you People?”                                         41
+
+  “As He seized it He was changed from a tall
+    young Man into a great Rattlesnake”                             45
+
+  The Coyotes at Supper with the Woodpeckers                        50
+
+  The Isleta Girls grinding Corn with the
+    “Mano” on the “Metate”                                          56
+
+  The Moon-Maiden                                                   57
+
+  The Yellow-Corn-Maidens throwing Meal at the
+    pearl “Omate”                                                   59
+
+  The Grief of Nah-chu-rú-chu                                       65
+
+  “The Witch made Herself very small, and went
+    behind the Foot of a big Crane”                                 95
+
+  The Hunter and the Lake-man                                      111
+
+  The Cursing of the Lake                                          119
+
+  South, East, North, and West in Search of
+    Kahp-too-óo-yoo                                                153
+
+  Kahp-too-óo-yoo calling the Rain                                 158
+
+  The Wolf, and the Coyote with the Toothache                      183
+
+  The Wolf meets the Boys Playing with their
+    Bows and Arrows                                                187
+
+  “The Fawns appeared suddenly, and at sight of
+    Them the Wolf dropped the Spoonful of Soup”                    191
+
+  “There They Stood Side by Side”                                  225
+
+  “‘How Shall I Get It?’ said the Coyote”                          229
+
+    These illustrations are from drawings by George Wharton Edwards,
+                   after photographs by the author.
+
+
+
+
+TÉE-WAHN FOLK-STORIES
+
+  [Illustration: TÉE-WAHN FOLK-STORIES]
+
+
+
+
+THE BROWN STORY-TELLERS
+
+
+I FANCY that if almost any of us were asked, “When did people begin
+to make fairy stories?” our first thought would be, “Why, of course,
+after mankind had become civilized, and had invented writing.” But in
+truth the making of myths, which is no more than a dignified name for
+“fairy stories,” dates back to the childhood of the human race.
+
+Long before Cadmus invented letters (and I fear Cadmus himself was
+as much of a myth as was his dragon’s-teeth harvest), long before
+there were true historians or poets, there were fairy stories and
+story-tellers. And to-day, if we would seek the place where fairy
+stories most flourish, we must go, not to the nations whose countless
+educated minds are now devoted to story-telling for the young, but
+to peoples who have no books, no magazines, no alphabets--even no
+pictures.
+
+Of all the aboriginal peoples that remain in North America, none
+is richer in folk-lore than the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico, who
+are, I believe, next to the largest of the native tribes left in
+the United States. They number nine thousand souls. They have
+nineteen “cities” (called pueblos, also) in this Territory, and
+seven in Arizona; and each has its little outlying colonies. They
+are not cities in size, it is true, for the largest (Zuñi) has only
+fifteen hundred people, and the smallest only about one hundred; but
+cities they are, nevertheless. And each city, with its fields, is a
+wee republic--twenty-six of the smallest, and perhaps the oldest,
+republics in the world; for they were already such when the first
+European eyes saw America. Each has its governor, its congress, its
+sheriffs, war-captains, and other officials who are elected annually;
+its laws, unwritten but unalterable, which are more respected
+and better enforced than the laws of any American community; its
+permanent and very comfortable houses, and its broad fields,
+confirmed first by Spain and later by patents of the United States.
+
+The architecture of the Pueblo houses is quaint and characteristic.
+In the remote pueblos they are as many as six stories in
+height--built somewhat in the shape of an enormous terraced pyramid.
+The Pueblos along the Rio Grande, however, have felt the influence
+of Mexican customs, and their houses have but one and two stories.
+All their buildings, including the huge, quaint church which each
+pueblo has, are made of stone plastered with adobe mud, or of great,
+sun-dried bricks of adobe. They are the most comfortable dwellings in
+the Southwest--cool in summer and warm in winter.
+
+The Pueblos are divided into six tribes, each speaking a distinct
+language of its own. Isleta, the quaint village where I lived five
+years, in an Indian house, with Indian neighbors, and under Indian
+laws, is the southernmost of the pueblos, the next largest of them
+all, and the chief city of the Tée-wahn tribe.[1] All the languages
+of the Pueblo tribes are exceedingly difficult to learn.
+
+    [1] Spelled Tigua by Spanish authors.
+
+Besides the cities now inhabited, the ruins of about fifteen hundred
+other pueblos--and some of them the noblest ruins in the country--dot
+the brown valleys and rocky mesa-tops of New Mexico. All these
+ruins are of stone, and are extremely interesting. The implacable
+savages by whom they were hemmed in made necessary the abandonment of
+hundreds of pueblos; and this great number of ruins does not indicate
+a vast ancient population. The Pueblos _never_ counted above 30,000
+souls.
+
+The Pueblo Indians have for nearly two centuries given no trouble
+to the European sharers of their domain; but their wars of defense
+against the savage tribes who surrounded them completely--with the
+Apaches, Navajos, Comanches, and Utes--lasted until a very few years
+ago. They are valiant fighters for their homes, but prefer any
+honorable peace. They are not indolent, but industrious--tilling
+their farms, tending their stock, and keeping all their affairs in
+order. The women own the houses and their contents, and do not work
+outside; and the men control the fields and crops. An unhappy home
+is almost an unknown thing among them; and the universal affection
+of parents for children and respect of children for parents are
+extraordinary. I have never seen a child unkindly treated, a parent
+saucily addressed, or a playmate abused, in all my long and intimate
+acquaintance with the Pueblos.
+
+Isleta lies on the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, upon the western
+bank of the Rio Grande, on a lava promontory which was once an
+island--whence the town takes its Spanish name. Its Tée-wahn title is
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak.[2] Its population, according to the census taken in
+1891, is a little less than twelve hundred. It is nearly surrounded
+by fertile vineyards, orchards of peaches, apricots, apples,
+cherries, plums, pears, and quinces, and fields of corn, wheat,
+beans, and peppers, all owned by my dusky neighbors. The pueblo owns
+over one hundred and ten thousand acres of land, the greater part of
+which is reserved for pasturing horses and cattle.
+
+    [2] The name means “Knife-laid-on-the-ground-to-play-_whib_.”
+    _Whib_ is an aboriginal foot-race in which the runners have to
+    carry a stick with their toes. The name was perhaps suggested
+    by the knife-like shape of the lava ridge on which the pueblo
+    is built.
+
+The people of Isleta are, as a rule, rather short in stature, but
+strongly built. All have a magnificent depth and breadth of chest,
+and a beautifully confident poise of the head. Most of the men are
+very expert hunters, tireless runners, and fine horsemen. Besides
+ordinary hunting they have communal hunts--for rabbits in the spring,
+for antelope and deer in the fall--thoroughly organized, in which
+great quantities of game are killed.
+
+Their amusements are many and varied. Aside from the numerous sacred
+dances of the year, their most important occasions, they have various
+races which call for great skill and endurance, quaint social
+enjoyments, and games of many kinds, some of which are quite as
+difficult as chess. They are very fair weavers and pottery-makers.
+The women are good housewives, and most of them excellent
+seamstresses.
+
+Yet, with all this progress in civilization, despite their mental
+and physical acuteness and their excellent moral qualities, the
+Tée-wahn are in some things but overgrown children. Their secret
+inner religion[3] is one of the most complicated systems on earth.
+Besides the highest deities, all the forces of nature, all animals,
+as well as many things that are inanimate, are invested by them with
+supernatural powers. They do not worship idols, but images and tokens
+of unseen powers are revered. They do nothing without some reason,
+generally a religious one, and whatever they observe they can explain
+in their own superstitious way. Every custom they have and every
+belief they own has a reason which to them is all-sufficient; and
+for each they have a story. There is no duty to which a Pueblo child
+is trained in which he has to be content with the bare command, “Do
+thus”; for each he learns a fairy tale designed to explain how people
+first came to know that it was right to do thus, and detailing the
+sad results which befell those who did otherwise.
+
+    [3] For they are all devout, if not entirely understanding,
+    members of a Christian church; but keep also much of their
+    prehistoric faiths.
+
+It is from this wonderful folk-lore of the Tée-wahn that I have
+learned--after long study of the people, their language, customs,
+and myths--and taken, unchanged and unembellished, this series of
+Indian fairy tales. I have been extremely careful to preserve, in
+my translations, the exact Indian _spirit_. An absolutely literal
+translation would be almost unintelligible to English readers, but I
+have taken no liberties with the real meaning.
+
+The use of books is not only to tell, but to preserve; not only for
+to-day, but for ever. What an Indian wishes to perpetuate must be
+saved by tongue and ear, by “telling-down,” as were the world’s first
+histories and poems. This oral transmission from father to son is of
+sacred importance with the natives. Upon it depends the preservation
+of the amusements, the history, the beliefs, the customs, and the
+laws of their nation. A people less observant, less accurate of
+speech and of memory, would make a sad failure of this sort of
+record; but with them it is a wonderful success. The story goes down
+from generation to generation, almost without the change of a word.
+The fact that it is told in fixed metrical form--a sort of blank
+verse--helps the memory.
+
+  [Illustration: “AS I COME IN, KINDLY OLD TATA LORENSO IS JUST
+      BEGINNING A STORY.”]
+
+Here in Isleta, the quaint pueblo of the Tée-wahn, I became
+deeply interested not only in the folk-stories themselves, but
+also in the manner of handing them down. Winter is the season for
+story-telling. Then the thirsty fields no longer cry for water, the
+irrigating-ditches have ceased to gnaw at their banks, and the men
+are often at leisure. Then, of an evening, if I go over to visit
+some _vecino_ (neighbor), I am likely to find, in the great adobe
+living-room, a group of very old men and very young boys gathered
+about the queer little corner fireplace with its blazing upright
+sticks. They, too, have come a-visiting. The young men are gathered
+in another corner by themselves, eating roasted corn, and talking in
+whispers so as not to disturb their elders, for respect to age is the
+corner-stone of all Indian training. They are not required to listen
+to the stories, being supposed to know them already.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If in the far, sweet days when I stood at my grandmother’s knee, and
+shivered over “Bluebeard,” or thrilled at “Jack the Giant-killer,”
+some one could have shown us a picture of me as I was to be listening
+to other fairy tales twenty-five years later, I am sure that her eyes
+would have opened wide as mine. Certainly neither of us ever dreamed
+that, thousands of miles from the old New England fireplace, when the
+dear figures that sat with me before its blazing forestick had long
+been dust, I would be sitting where I am to-night and listening to
+the strange, dark people who are around me.
+
+The room is long and low, and overhead are dark, round rafters--the
+trunks of straight pine-trees that used to purr on the sides of the
+most famous mountain in New Mexico. The walls are white as snow,
+and you would never imagine that they are built only of cut sods,
+plastered over and whitewashed. The floor is of adobe clay, packed
+almost as hard as a rock, and upon it are bright-hued blankets, woven
+in strange figures. Along the walls are benches, with wool mattresses
+rolled up and laid upon them. By and by these will be spread upon the
+floor for beds, but just now they serve as cushioned seats. Over in
+a corner are strange earthen jars of water, with little gourd dippers
+floating, and here and there upon the wall hang bows and arrows in
+sheaths of the tawny hide of the mountain lion; queer woven belts of
+red and green, and heavy necklaces of silver and coral, with charms
+of turquoise--the stone that stole its color from the sky.
+
+There is a fireplace, too, and we are gathered all about it, a dozen
+or more--for I have become an old friend here. But it is not like
+the fireplace where the little sister and I used to roast our apples
+and pop our corn. A wee hearth of clay rises a few inches from the
+floor; a yard above it hangs the chimney, like a big white hood; and
+a little wall, four feet high, runs from it out into the room, that
+the wind from the outer door may not blow the ashes. There is no big
+front log, but three or four gnarled cedar sticks, standing on one
+end, crackle loudly.
+
+Some of us are seated on benches, and upon the floor. His back
+against the wall, squats my host, who is just going to begin
+another fairy story. Such a wee, withered, wrinkled old man! It
+seems as though the hot winds of the Southwest had dried him as
+they dry the forgotten last year’s apples that shrivel here and
+there upon lonely boughs. He must be a century old. His children,
+grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren
+are all represented here to-night. Yet his black eyes are like a
+hawk’s, under their heavy brows, and his voice is musical and deep.
+I have never heard a more eloquent story-teller, and I have heard
+some famous ones. I can tell you the words, but not the impressive
+tones, the animation of eye and accent, the eloquent gestures of this
+venerable Indian as he tells--what? An Indian telling fairy stories?
+
+Yes, indeed. He is the very man to tell them. If this dusky old
+playground for wrinkles, who never saw the inside of a book, could
+write out all the fairy stories he knows, Webster’s Unabridged
+Dictionary would hardly hold them. His father and his father’s
+father, and so on back for countless centuries, have handed down
+these stories by telling, from generation to generation, just as
+Tata[4] Lorenso is telling his great-great-grandsons to-night. When
+these boys grow up, they will tell these stories to their sons and
+grandsons; and so the legends will pass on and on, so long as there
+shall be a Tée-wahn Indian left in all New Mexico.
+
+    [4] “Father.”
+
+But Lorenso is ready with his story. He pauses only to make a
+cigarette from the material in my pouch (they call me _Por todos_,
+because I have tobacco “for all”), explains for my benefit that this
+is a story of the beginning of Isleta, pats the head of the chubby
+boy at his knee, and begins again.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE ANTELOPE BOY
+
+
+ONCE upon a time there were two towns of the Tée-wahn, called
+Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee (white village) and Nah-choo-rée-too-ee (yellow
+village). A man of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee and his wife were attacked by
+Apaches while out on the plains one day, and took refuge in a cave,
+where they were besieged. And there a boy was born to them. The
+father was killed in an attempt to return to his village for help;
+and starvation finally forced the mother to crawl forth by night
+seeking roots to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to her own
+village, and it was several days before she could return to the
+cave--only to find it empty.
+
+The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure. Just then a
+Coyote[5] was passing, and heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked
+it up and carried it across the plain until he came to a herd of
+antelopes. Among them was a Mother-Antelope that had lost her fawn;
+and going to her the Coyote said:
+
+    [5] The small prairie-wolf.
+
+“Here is an _ah-bóo_ (poor thing) that is left by its people. Will
+you take care of it?”
+
+The Mother-Antelope, remembering her own baby, with tears said
+“Yes,” and at once adopted the tiny stranger, while the Coyote
+thanked her and went home.
+
+So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and grew up among them
+until he was about twelve years old. Then it happened that a hunter
+came out from Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for antelopes, and found this herd.
+Stalking them carefully, he shot one with an arrow. The rest started
+off, running like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as they
+were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter was much surprised, and,
+shouldering his game, walked back to the village, deep in thought.
+Here he told the Cacique[6] what he had seen. Next day the crier was
+sent out to call upon all the people to prepare for a great hunt, in
+four days, to capture the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes.
+
+    [6] The highest religious official.
+
+While preparations were going on in the village, the antelopes
+in some way heard of the intended hunt and its purpose. The
+Mother-Antelope was very sad when she heard it, and at first would
+say nothing. But at last she called her adopted son to her and said:
+“Son, you have heard that the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee are coming
+to hunt. But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take you.
+They will surround us, intending to let all the antelopes escape
+from the circle. You must follow me where I break through the line,
+and your real mother will be coming on the northeast side in a white
+_manta_ (robe). I will pass close to her, and you must stagger and
+fall where she can catch you.”
+
+On the fourth day all the people went out upon the plains. They
+found and surrounded the herd of antelopes, which ran about in a
+circle when the hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller,
+and the antelopes began to break through; but the hunters paid no
+attention to them, keeping their eyes upon the boy. At last he and
+his antelope mother were the only ones left, and when she broke
+through the line on the northeast he followed her and fell at the
+feet of his own human mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in
+her arms.
+
+Amid great rejoicing he was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee, and there he
+told the _principales_[7] how he had been left in the cave, how the
+Coyote had pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had reared him as
+her own son.
+
+    [7] The old men who are the congress of the pueblo.
+
+It was not long before all the country round about heard of the
+Antelope Boy and of his marvelous fleetness of foot. You must know
+that the antelopes never comb their hair, and while among them
+the boy’s head had grown very bushy. So the people called him
+_Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh_ (big-headed little boy).
+
+  [Illustration: THE COYOTE CARRIES THE BABY TO THE ANTELOPE
+      MOTHER.]
+
+Among the other villages that heard of his prowess was
+Nah-choo-rée-too-ee, all of whose people “had the bad road.”[8] They
+had a wonderful runner named _Pée-k’hoo_ (Deer-foot), and very soon
+they sent a challenge to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for a championship race.
+Four days were to be given for preparation, to make bets, and the
+like. The race was to be around the world.[9] Each village was to
+stake all its property and the lives of all its people on the result
+of the race. So powerful were the witches of Nah-choo-rée-too-ee that
+they felt safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people of
+Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee were ashamed to decline the challenge.
+
+    [8] That is, were witches.
+
+    [9] The Pueblos believed it was an immense plain whereon the
+    racers were to race over a square course--to the extreme
+    east, then to the extreme north, and so on, back to the
+    starting-point.
+
+The day came, and the starting-point was surrounded by all the people
+of the two villages, dressed in their best. On each side were huge
+piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and all the other
+property of the people. The runner for the yellow village was a tall,
+sinewy athlete, strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope
+Boy appeared for the other side, the witches set up a howl of
+derision, and began to strike their rivals and jeer at them, saying,
+“Pooh! We might as well begin to kill you now! What can that _óo-deh_
+(little thing) do?”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the word “_Hái-ko!_” (“Go!”) the two runners started toward
+the east like the wind. The Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but
+Deer-foot, by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and flew
+lightly over the lad, saying, “_We_ do this way to each other!”[10]
+The Antelope Boy kept running, but his heart was very heavy, for he
+knew that no feet could equal the swift flight of the hawk.
+
+    [10] A common Indian taunt, either good-natured or bitter, to
+    the loser of a game or to a conquered enemy.
+
+But just as he came half-way to the east, a Mole came up from its
+burrow and said:
+
+“My son, where are you going so fast with a sad face?”
+
+The lad explained that the race was for the property and lives of all
+his people; and that the witch-runner had turned to a hawk and left
+him far behind.
+
+  [Illustration: RAIN FALLS ON PÉE-K’HOO.]
+
+“Then, my son,” said the Mole, “I will be he that shall help you.
+Only sit down here a little while, and I will give you something to
+carry.”
+
+The boy sat down, and the Mole dived into the hole, but soon came
+back with four cigarettes.[11]
+
+    [11] These are made by putting a certain weed called
+    _pee-én-hleh_ into hollow reeds.
+
+Holding them out, the Mole said, “Now, my son, when you have reached
+the east and turned north, smoke one; when you have reached the north
+and turn west, smoke another; when you turn south, another, and when
+you turn east again, another. _Hái-ko!_”
+
+The boy ran on, and soon reached the east. Turning his face to the
+north he smoked the first cigarette. No sooner was it finished than
+he became a young antelope; and at the same instant a furious rain
+began. Refreshed by the cool drops, he started like an arrow from the
+bow. Half-way to the north he came to a large tree; and there sat the
+hawk, drenched and chilled, unable to fly, and crying piteously.
+
+“Now, friend, _we_ too do this to each other,” called the
+boy-antelope as he dashed past. But just as he reached the north,
+the hawk--which had become dry after the short rain--caught up and
+passed him, saying, “We too do this to each other!” The boy-antelope
+turned westward, and smoked the second cigarette; and at once another
+terrific rain began.[12] Half-way to the west he again passed the
+hawk shivering and crying in a tree, and unable to fly; but as
+he was about to turn to the south, the hawk passed him with the
+customary taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette brought another
+storm, and again the antelope passed the wet hawk half-way, and
+again the hawk dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him
+as he was turning to the east for the home-stretch. Here again the
+boy-antelope stopped and smoked a cigarette--the fourth and last.
+Again a short, hard rain came, and again he passed the water-bound
+hawk half-way.
+
+    [12] I should state, by the way, that the cigarette plays an
+    important part in the Pueblo folk-stories,--they never had the
+    pipe of the Northern Indians,--and all rain-clouds are supposed
+    to come from its smoke.
+
+  [Illustration: “THE TWO RUNNERS CAME SWEEPING DOWN THE
+      HOME-STRETCH, STRAINING EVERY NERVE.”]
+
+Knowing the witchcraft of their neighbors, the people of
+Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee had made the condition that, in whatever shape
+the racers might run the rest of the course, they must resume human
+form upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn, which was
+in sight of the goal. The last wetting of the hawk’s feathers delayed
+it so that the antelope reached the hill just ahead; and there,
+resuming their natural shapes, the two runners came sweeping down
+the home-stretch, straining every nerve. But the Antelope Boy gained
+at each stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt confident
+that he was their champion, and again began to push, and taunt, and
+jeer at the others. But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly
+across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy turned to mourning.
+
+The people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee burned all the witches upon the
+spot, in a great pile of corn; but somehow one escaped, and from him
+come all the witches that trouble us to this day.
+
+The property of the witches was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee; and as
+it was more than that village could hold, the surplus was sent to
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak (Isleta), where we enjoy it to this day; and later
+the people themselves moved here. And even now, when we dig in that
+little hill on the other side of the _charco_ (pool), we find charred
+corn-cobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people of the
+yellow village.
+
+During Lorenso’s story the black eyes of the boys have never left
+his face; and at every pause they have made the customary response,
+“Is that so?” to show their attention; while the old men have nodded
+approbation, and smoked in deep silence.
+
+Now Lorenso turns to Desiderio,[13] who is far more wrinkled even
+than he, and says, “You have a tail, brother.” And Desiderio,
+clearing his throat and making a new cigarette with great
+impressiveness, begins: “My sons, do you know why the Coyote and the
+Crows are always at war? No? Then I will tell you.”
+
+    [13] Pronounced Day-see-dáy-ree-oh.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE COYOTE AND THE CROWS
+
+
+ONCE on a time many Káh-ahn lived in the edge of some woods. A little
+out into the plain stood a very large tree, with much sand under it.
+One day a Coyote was passing, and heard the Crows singing and dancing
+under this tree, and came up to watch them. They were dancing in a
+circle, and each Crow had upon his back a large bag.
+
+“Crow-friends, what are you doing?” asked the Coyote, who was much
+interested.
+
+“Oh, we are dancing with our mothers,” said the Crows.
+
+“How pretty! And will you let me dance, too?” asked the Coyote of the
+_too-whit-lah-wid-deh_ crow (captain of the dance).
+
+“Oh, yes,” replied the Crow. “Go and put your mother in a bag and
+come to the dance.”
+
+The Coyote went running home. There his old mother was sitting in
+the corner of the fireplace. The stupid Coyote picked up a stick and
+struck her on the head, and put her in a bag, and hurried back to the
+dance with her.
+
+The Crows were dancing merrily, and singing: “_Ai nana, que-ée-rah,
+que-ée-rah_.” (“Alas, Mama! you are shaking, you are shaking!”) The
+Coyote joined the dance, with the bag on his back, and sang as the
+Crows did:
+
+“_Ai nana, que-ée-rah, que-ée-rah_.”[14]
+
+    [14] _Ai nana_ is an exclamation always used by mourners.
+
+But at last the Crows burst out laughing, and said, “What do you
+bring in your bag?”
+
+“My mother, as you told me,” replied the Coyote, showing them.
+
+Then the Crows emptied their bags, which were filled with nothing but
+sand, and flew up into the tree, laughing.
+
+The Coyote then saw that they had played him a trick, and started
+home, crying “_Ai nana!_” When he got home he took his mother from
+the bag and tried to set her up in the chimney-corner, always crying,
+“_Ai nana_, why don’t you sit up as before?” But she could not, for
+she was dead. When he found that she could not sit up any more, he
+vowed to follow the Crows and eat them all the rest of his life; and
+from that day to this he has been hunting them, and they are always
+at war.
+
+As Desiderio concludes, the old men hitch their blankets around their
+shoulders. “No more stories to-night?” I ask; and Lorenso says:
+
+“_In-dáh_ (no). Now it is to go to bed. _Tóo-kwai_ (come),” to the
+boys. “Good night, friends. Another time, perhaps.”
+
+And we file out through the low door into the starry night.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE WAR-DANCE OF THE MICE
+
+
+TO-NIGHT it is withered Diego[15] who begins with his story, in the
+musical but strange Tée-wahn tongue, of “Shée-choon t’o-ah-fuar.”
+Serious as that looks, it means only “the war-dance of the Mice.”
+
+    [15] Pronounced Dee-áy-go.
+
+Once upon a time there was war between the people of Isleta and
+the Mice. There was a great battle, in which the Tée-wahn killed
+many Mice and took their scalps. Then the Tée-wahn returned to
+their village, and the warriors went into the _estufa_ (sacred
+council-chamber) to prepare themselves by fasting for the great
+scalp-dance in twelve days. While the warriors were sitting inside,
+the Mice came secretly by night to attack the town, and their spies
+crept up to the _estufa_. When all the Tée-wahn warriors had fallen
+asleep, the Mice came stealing down the big ladder into the room, and
+creeping from sleeper to sleeper, they gnawed every bowstring and cut
+the feathers from the arrows and the strap of every sling. When this
+was done, the Mice raised a terrible war-whoop and rushed upon the
+warriors, brandishing their spears. The Tée-wahn woke and caught up
+their bows and arrows, but only to find them useless. So the warriors
+could do nothing but run from their tiny foes, and up the ladder
+to the roof they rushed pell-mell and thence fled to their homes,
+leaving the Mice victorious.
+
+The rest of the town made such fun of the warriors that they refused
+to return to the fight; and the elated Mice held a public dance
+in front of the _estufa_. A brave sight it was, the army of these
+little people, singing and dancing and waving their spears. They were
+dressed in red blankets, with leather leggings glistening with silver
+buttons from top to bottom, and gay moccasins. Each had two eagle
+feathers tied to the top of his spear--the token of victory. And as
+they danced and marched and counter-marched, they sang exultingly:
+
+    _Shée-oh-pah ch’-ót-im!
+    Neh-máh-hlee-oh ch’-ot-im!
+    Hló-tu feé-ny p’-óh-teh!_
+
+over and over again--which means
+
+    Quick we cut the bowstring!
+    Quick we cut the sling-strap!
+    We shaved the arrow-feathers off!
+
+For four days they danced and sang, and on the night of the fourth
+day danced all night around a big bonfire. The next morning they
+marched away. That was the time when the Mice conquered men; and that
+is the reason why we have never been able to drive the Mice out of
+our homes to this day.
+
+“Is _that_ the reason?” ask all the boys, who have been listening
+with big black eyes intent.
+
+“That is the very reason,” says withered Diego. “Now, _compadre_
+Antonio, there is a tail to you.”
+
+Antonio, thus called upon, cannot refuse. Indian etiquette is very
+strict upon this point--as well as upon all others. So he fishes in
+his memory for a story, while the boys turn expectant faces toward
+him. He is not nearly so wrinkled as Diego, but he is very, very old,
+and his voice is a little tremulous at first. Wrapping his blanket
+about him, he begins:
+
+Then I will tell you why the Coyote and the Blackbirds are
+enemies--for once they were very good friends in the old days.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE COYOTE AND THE BLACKBIRDS
+
+
+ONCE upon a time a Coyote lived near an open wood. As he went to
+walk one day near the edge of the wood, he heard the Blackbirds (the
+Indian name means “seeds of the prairie”) calling excitedly:
+
+“Bring my bag! Bring my bag! It is going to hail!”
+
+The Coyote, being very curious, came near and saw that they all had
+buckskin bags to which they were tying lassos, the other ends of
+which were thrown over the boughs of the trees. Very much surprised,
+the Coyote came to them and asked:
+
+“Blackbird-friends, what are you doing?”
+
+“Oh, friend Coyote,” they replied, “we are making ourselves ready,
+for soon there will be a very hard hail-storm, and we do not wish
+to be pelted to death. We are going to get into these bags and pull
+ourselves up under the branches, where the hail cannot strike us.”
+
+“That is very good,” said the Coyote, “and I would like to do so,
+too, if you will let me join you.”
+
+“Oh, yes! Just run home and get a bag and a lasso, and come back here
+and we will help you,” said the Pah-táhn, never smiling.
+
+So the Coyote started running for home, and got a large bag and a
+lasso, and came back to the Blackbirds, who were waiting. They fixed
+the rope and bag for him, putting the noose around the neck of the
+bag so that it would be closed tight when the rope was pulled. Then
+they threw the end of the lasso over a strong branch and said:
+
+“Now, friend Coyote, you get into your bag first, for you are so big
+and heavy that you cannot pull yourself up, and we will have to help
+you.”
+
+The Coyote crawled into the bag, and all the Blackbirds taking hold
+of the rope, pulled with all their might till the bag was swung clear
+up under the branch. Then they tied the end of the lasso around the
+tree so the bag could not come down, and ran around picking up all
+the pebbles they could find.
+
+“Mercy! How the hail comes!” they cried excitedly, and began to throw
+stones at the swinging bag as hard as ever they could.
+
+“Mercy!” howled the Coyote, as the pebbles pattered against him. “But
+this is a terrible storm, Blackbird-friends! It pelts me dreadfully!
+And how are you getting along?”
+
+“It is truly very bad, friend Coyote,” they answered, “but you are
+bigger and stronger than we, and ought to endure it.” And they kept
+pelting him, all the time crying and chattering as if they, too, were
+suffering greatly from the hail.
+
+“Ouch!” yelled the Coyote. “That one hit me very near the eye,
+friends! I fear this evil storm will kill us all!”
+
+“But be brave, friend,” called back the Blackbirds. “We keep our
+hearts, and so should you, for you are much stronger than we.” And
+they pelted him all the harder.
+
+So they kept it up until they were too tired to throw any more; and
+as for the Coyote, he was so bruised and sore that he could hardly
+move. Then they untied the rope and let the bag slowly to the ground,
+and loosened the noose at the neck and flew up into the trees with
+sober faces.
+
+“Ow!” groaned the Coyote, “I am nearly dead!” And he crawled weeping
+and groaning from the bag, and began to lick his bruises. But when
+he looked around and saw the sun shining and the ground dry, and not
+a hailstone anywhere, he knew that the Blackbirds had given him a
+trick, and he limped home in a terrible rage, vowing that as soon as
+ever he got well he would follow and eat the Blackbirds as long as he
+lived. And ever since, even to this day, he has been following them
+to eat them, and that is why the Coyote and the Blackbirds are always
+at war.
+
+“Is that so?” cried all the boys in chorus, their eyes shining like
+coals.
+
+“Oh, yes, that is the cause of the war,” said old Antonio, gravely.
+“And now, brother, there is a tail to you,” turning to the tall,
+gray-haired Felipe[16]; and clearing his throat, Felipe begins about
+the Coyote and the Bear.
+
+    [16] Pronounced Fay-lée-peh.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE COYOTE AND THE BEAR[17]
+
+    [17] The Coyote, you must know, is very stupid about some
+    things; and in almost all Pueblo fairy stories is the victim of
+    one joke or another. The bear, on the other hand, is one of the
+    wisest of animals.
+
+
+ONCE upon a time Ko-íd-deh (the Bear) and Too-wháy-deh (the Coyote)
+chanced to meet at a certain spot, and sat down to talk. After a
+while the Bear said:
+
+“Friend Coyote, do you see what good land this is here? What do you
+say if we farm it together, sharing our labor and the crop?”
+
+The Coyote thought well of it, and said so; and after talking, they
+agreed to plant potatoes in partnership.
+
+“Now,” said the Bear, “I think of a good way to divide the crop. I
+will take all that grows below the ground, and you take all that
+grows above it. Then each can take away his share when he is ready,
+and there will be no trouble to measure.”
+
+The Coyote agreed, and when the time came they plowed the place
+with a sharp stick and planted their potatoes. All summer they
+worked together in the field, hoeing down the weeds with stone hoes
+and letting in water now and then from the irrigating-ditch. When
+harvest-time came, the Coyote went and cut off all the potato-tops at
+the ground and carried them home, and afterward the Bear scratched
+out the potatoes from the ground with his big claws and took them to
+his house. When the Coyote saw this his eyes were opened, and he said:
+
+“But this is not fair. You have those round things, which are good to
+eat, but what I took home we cannot eat at all, neither my wife nor
+I.”
+
+“But, friend Coyote,” answered the Bear, gravely, “did we not make an
+agreement? Then we must stick to it like men.”
+
+The Coyote could not answer, and went home; but he was not satisfied.
+
+The next spring, as they met one day, the Bear said:
+
+“Come, friend Coyote, I think we ought to plant this good land
+again, and this time let us plant it in corn. But last year you were
+dissatisfied with your share, so this year we will change. You take
+what is below the ground for your share, and I will take only what
+grows above.”
+
+This seemed very fair to the Coyote, and he agreed. They plowed
+and planted and tended the corn; and when it came harvest-time the
+Bear gathered all the stalks and ears and carried them home. When
+the Coyote came to dig his share, he found nothing but roots like
+threads, which were good for nothing. He was very much dissatisfied;
+but the Bear reminded him of their agreement, and he could say
+nothing.
+
+That winter the Coyote was walking one day by the river (the Rio
+Grande), when he saw the Bear sitting on the ice and eating a fish.
+The Coyote was very fond of fish, and coming up, he said:
+
+“Friend Bear, where did you get such a fat fish?”
+
+“Oh, I broke a hole in the ice,” said the Bear, “and fished for them.
+There are many here.” And he went on eating, without offering any to
+the Coyote.
+
+“Won’t you show me how, friend?” asked the Coyote, fainting with
+hunger at the smell of the fish.
+
+“Oh, yes,” said the Bear. “It is very easy.” And he broke a hole in
+the ice with his paw. “Now, friend Coyote, sit down and let your tail
+hang in the water, and very soon you will feel a nibble. But you must
+not pull it till I tell you.”
+
+So the Coyote sat down with his tail in the cold water. Soon the ice
+began to form around it, and he called:
+
+“Friend Bear, I feel a bite! Let me pull him out.”
+
+“No, no! Not yet!” cried the Bear, “wait till he gets a good hold,
+and then you will not lose him.”
+
+So the Coyote waited. In a few minutes the hole was frozen solid, and
+his tail was fast.
+
+“Now, friend Coyote,” called the Bear, “I think you have him. Pull!”
+
+The Coyote pulled with all his might, but could not lift his tail
+from the ice, and there he was--a prisoner. While he pulled and
+howled, the Bear shouted with laughter, and rolled on the ice and
+ha-ha’d till his sides were sore. Then he took his fish and went
+home, stopping every little to laugh at the thought of the Coyote.
+
+There on the ice the Coyote had to stay until a thaw liberated him,
+and when he got home he was very wet and cold and half starved. And
+from that day to this he has never forgiven the Bear, and will not
+even speak to him when they meet, and the Bear says, politely, “Good
+morning, friend Too-wháy-deh.”
+
+“Is that so?” cry the boys.
+
+“That is so,” says Felipe. “But now it is time to go home.
+_Tóo-kwai!_”
+
+The story-telling is over for to-night. Grandmother Reyes is
+unrolling the mattresses upon the floor; and with pleasant
+“good-nights” we scatter for our homes here and there in the quaint
+adobe village.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE FIRST OF THE RATTLESNAKES]
+
+VI
+
+THE FIRST OF THE RATTLESNAKES
+
+
+“NOW there is a tail to you, _compadre_ [friend],” said old
+Desiderio, nodding at Patricio[18] after we had sat awhile in silence
+around the crackling fire.
+
+    [18] Pronounced Pah-trée-see-oh.
+
+Patricio had a broad strip of rawhide across his knee, and was
+scraping the hair from it with a dull knife. It was high time to be
+thinking of new soles, for already there was a wee hole in the bottom
+of each of his moccasins; and as for Benito, his shy little grandson,
+_his_ toes were all abroad.
+
+But shrilly as the cold night-wind outside hinted the wisdom of
+speedy cobbling, Patricio had no wish to acquire that burro’s tail,
+so, laying the rawhide and knife upon the floor beside him, he
+deliberately rolled a modest pinch of the aromatic _koo-ah-rée_ in a
+corn-husk, lighted it at the coals, and drew Benito’s tousled head to
+his side.
+
+“You have heard,” he said, with a slow puff, “about Nah-chu-rú-chu,
+the mighty medicine-man who lived here in Isleta in the times of the
+ancients?”
+
+“_Ah-h!_” (Yes) cried all the boys. “You have promised to tell us how
+he married the moon!”
+
+“Another time I will do so. But now I shall tell you something that
+was before that--for Nah-chu-rú-chu had many strange adventures
+before he married Páh-hlee-oh, the Moon-Mother. Do you know why the
+rattlesnake--which is the king of all snakes and alone has the power
+of death in his mouth--always shakes his _guaje_[19] before he bites?”
+
+    [19] The Pueblo sacred rattle.
+
+“_Een-dah!_” chorused Ramón and Benito, and Fat Juan, and Tomás,[20]
+very eagerly; for they were particularly fond of hearing about the
+exploits of the greatest of Tée-wahn medicine-men.
+
+    [20] Pronounced Rah-móhn, Bay-née-toh, Whahn, Toh-máhs.
+
+“Listen, then, and you shall hear.”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In those days Nah-chu-rú-chu had a friend who lived in a pueblo
+nearer the foot of the Eagle-Feather Mountain than this, in the Place
+of the Red Earth, where still are its ruins; and the two young men
+went often to the mountain together to bring wood and to hunt. Now,
+Nah-chu-rú-chu had a white heart, and never thought ill; but the
+friend had the evil road and became jealous, for Nah-chu-rú-chu was
+a better hunter. But he said nothing, and made as if he still loved
+Nah-chu-rú-chu truly.
+
+One day the friend came over from his village and said:
+
+“Friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, let us go to-morrow for wood and to have a
+hunt.”
+
+“It is well,” replied Nah-chu-rú-chu. Next morning he started very
+early and came to the village of his friend; and together they went
+to the mountain. When they had gathered much wood, and lashed it in
+bundles for carrying, they started off in opposite directions to
+hunt. In a short time each returned with a fine fat deer.
+
+“But why should we hasten to go home, friend Nah-chu-rú-chu?” said
+the friend. “It is still early, and we have much time. Come, let us
+stop here and amuse ourselves with a game.”
+
+“It is well, friend,” answered Nah-chu-rú-chu; “but what game shall
+we play? For we have neither _pa-toles_, nor hoops, nor any other
+game here.”
+
+“See! we will roll the _mah-khúr_,[21] for while I was waiting for
+you I made one that we might play”--and the false friend drew from
+beneath his blanket a pretty painted hoop; but really he had made
+it at home, and had brought it hidden, on purpose to do harm to
+Nah-chu-rú-chu.
+
+    [21] The game of _mah-khúr_, which the Pueblos learned from
+    the Apaches many centuries ago, is a very simple one, but is
+    a favorite with all witches as a snare for those whom they
+    would injure. A small hoop of willow is painted gaily, and has
+    ornamental buckskin thongs stretched across it from side to
+    side, spoke-fashion. The challenger to a game rolls the hoop
+    rapidly past the challenged, who must throw a lance through
+    between the spokes before it ceases to roll.
+
+  [Illustration: “AS HE CAUGHT THE HOOP HE WAS INSTANTLY CHANGED
+      INTO A POOR COYOTE!”]
+
+“Now go down there and catch it when I roll it,” said he; and
+Nah-chu-rú-chu did so. But as he caught the hoop when it came
+rolling, he was no longer Nah-chu-rú-chu the brave hunter, but a poor
+Coyote with great tears rolling down his nose!
+
+“Hu!” said the false friend, tauntingly, “we do this to each other!
+So now you have all the plains to wander over, to the north, and
+west, and south; but you can never go to the east. And if you are not
+lucky, the dogs will tear you; but if you are lucky, they may have
+pity on you. So now good-by, for this is the last I shall ever see of
+you.”
+
+Then the false friend went away, laughing, to his village; and the
+poor Coyote wandered aimlessly, weeping to think that he had been
+betrayed by the one he had loved and trusted as a brother. For four
+days he prowled about the outskirts of Isleta, looking wistfully at
+his home. The fierce dogs ran out to tear him; but when they came
+near they only sniffed at him, and went away without hurting him. He
+could find nothing to eat save dry bones, and old thongs or soles of
+moccasins.
+
+On the fourth day he turned westward, and wandered until he came to
+Mesita.[22] There was no town of the Lagunas there then, and only a
+shepherd’s hut and corral, in which were an old Quères Indian and his
+grandson, tending their goats.
+
+    [22] An outlying colony of Laguna, forty miles from Isleta.
+
+Next morning when the grandson went out very early to let the goats
+from the corral, he saw a Coyote run out from among the goats. It
+went off a little way, and then sat down and watched him. The boy
+counted the goats, and none were missing, and he thought it strange.
+But he said nothing to his grandfather.
+
+For three more mornings the very same thing happened; and on the
+fourth morning the boy told his grandfather. The old man came out,
+and set the dogs after the Coyote, which was sitting a little way
+off; but when they came near they would not touch him.
+
+“I suspect there is something wrong here,” said the old shepherd; and
+he called: “Coyote, are you coyote-true, or are you people?”
+
+But the Coyote could not answer; and the old man called again:
+“Coyote, are you people?”
+
+At that the Coyote nodded his head, “Yes.”
+
+“If that is so, come here and be not afraid of us; for we will be the
+ones to help you out of this trouble.”
+
+So the Coyote came to them and licked their hands, and they gave it
+food--for it was dying of hunger. When it was fed, the old man said:
+
+“Now, son, you are going out with the goats along the creek, and
+there you will see some willows. With your mind look at two willows,
+and mark them; and to-morrow morning you must go and bring one of
+them.”
+
+The boy went away tending the goats, and the Coyote stayed with the
+old man. Next morning, when they awoke very early, they saw all the
+earth wrapped in a white _manta_.[23]
+
+    [23] This figure is always used by the Pueblos in speaking of
+    snow in connection with sacred things.
+
+  [Illustration: “COYOTE, ARE YOU PEOPLE?”]
+
+“Now, son,” said the old man, “you must wear only your moccasins
+and breech-clout, and go like a man to the two willows you marked
+yesterday. To one of them you must pray; and then cut the other and
+bring it to me.”
+
+The boy did so and came back with the willow stick. The old man
+prayed, and made a _mah-khúr_ hoop; and bidding the Coyote stand a
+little way off and stick his head through the hoop before it should
+stop rolling, rolled it toward him. The Coyote waited till the hoop
+came very close, and gave a great jump and put his head through it
+before it could stop. And lo! there stood Nah-chu-rú-chu, young and
+handsome as ever; but his beautiful suit of fringed buckskin was all
+in rags. For four days he stayed there and was cleansed with the
+cleansing of the medicine-man; and then the old shepherd said to him:
+
+“Now, friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, there is a road.[24] But take with you
+this _faja_,[25] for though your power is great, you have submitted
+to this evil. When you get home, he who did this to you will be first
+to know, and he will come pretending to be your friend, as if he had
+done nothing; and he will ask you to go hunting again. So you must
+go; and when you come to the mountain, with this _faja_ you shall
+repay him.”
+
+    [24] That is, you can go home.
+
+    [25] A fine woven belt, with figures in red and green.
+
+Nah-chu-rú-chu thanked the kind old shepherd, and started home. But
+when he came to the Bad Hill and looked down into the valley of the
+Rio Grande, his heart sank. All the grass and fields and trees were
+dry and dead--for Nah-chu-rú-chu was the medicine-man who controlled
+the clouds, so no rain could fall when he was gone; and the eight
+days he had been a Coyote were in truth eight years. The river was
+dry, and the springs; and many of the people were dead from thirst,
+and the rest were dying. But as Nah-chu-rú-chu came down the hill, it
+began to rain again, and all the people were glad.
+
+When he came into the pueblo, all the famishing people came out to
+welcome him. And soon came the false friend, making as if he had
+never bewitched him nor had known whither he disappeared.
+
+In a few days the false friend came again to propose a hunt; and
+next morning they went to the mountain together. Nah-chu-rú-chu had
+the pretty _faja_ wound around his waist; and when the wind blew his
+blanket aside, the other saw it.
+
+“Ay! What a pretty _faja_!” cried the false friend. “Give it to me,
+friend Nah-chu-rú-chu.”
+
+“_Een-dah!_” (No) said Nah-chu-rú-chu. But the false friend begged so
+hard that at last he said:
+
+“Then I will roll it to you; and if you can catch it before it
+unwinds, you may have it.”
+
+So he wound it up,[26] and holding by one end gave it a push so that
+it ran away from him, unrolling as it went. The false friend jumped
+for it, but it was unrolled before he caught it.
+
+    [26] Like a roll of tape.
+
+“_Een-dah!_” said Nah-chu-rú-chu, pulling it back. “If you do not
+care enough for it to be spryer than that, you cannot have it.”
+
+  [Illustration: “AS HE SEIZED IT HE WAS CHANGED FROM A TALL
+      YOUNG MAN INTO A GREAT RATTLESNAKE.”]
+
+The false friend begged for another trial; so Nah-chu-rú-chu
+rolled it again. This time the false friend caught it before it was
+unrolled; and lo! instead of a tall young man, there lay a great
+rattlesnake with tears rolling from his lidless eyes!
+
+“We, too, do this to each other!” said Nah-chu-rú-chu. He took from
+his medicine-pouch a pinch of the sacred meal and laid it on the
+snake’s flat head for its food; and then a pinch of the corn-pollen
+to tame it.[27] And the snake ran out its red forked tongue, and
+licked them.
+
+    [27] This same spell is still used here by the _Hee-but-hái_,
+    or snake-charmers.
+
+“Now,” said Nah-chu-rú-chu, “this mountain and all rocky places shall
+be your home. But you can never again do to another harm, without
+warning, as you did to me. For see, there is a _guaje_[28] in your
+tail, and whenever you would do any one an injury, you must warn them
+beforehand with your rattle.”
+
+    [28] Pronounced Gwáh-heh.
+
+“And is that the reason why Ch’ah-rah-ráh-deh always rattles to give
+warning before he bites?” asked Fat Juan, who is now quite as often
+called Juan Biscocho (John Biscuit), since I photographed him one day
+crawling out of the big adobe bake-oven where he had been hiding.
+
+“That is the very reason. Then Nah-chu-rú-chu left his false friend,
+from whom all the rattlesnakes are descended, and came back to his
+village. From that time all went well with Isleta, for Nah-chu-rú-chu
+was at home again to attend to the clouds. There was plenty of rain,
+and the river began to run again, and the springs flowed. The people
+plowed and planted again, as they had not been able to do for several
+years, and all their work prospered. As for the people who lived in
+the Place of the Red Earth, they all moved down here,[29] because the
+Apaches were very bad; and here their descendants live to this day.”
+
+    [29] It is a proved fact that there was such a migration.
+
+“Is that so?” sighed all the boys in chorus, sorry that the story was
+so soon done.
+
+“That is so,” replied old Patricio. “And now, _compadre_ Antonio,
+there is a tail to you.”
+
+“Well, then, I will tell a story which they showed me in Taos[30]
+last year,” said the old man.
+
+    [30] The most northern of the Pueblo cities. Its people are
+    also Tée-wahn.
+
+“Ah-h!” said the boys.
+
+“It is about the Coyote and the Woodpecker.”
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE COYOTE AND THE WOODPECKER
+
+
+WELL, once upon a time a Coyote and his family lived near the
+edge of a wood. There was a big hollow tree there, and in it
+lived an old Woodpecker and his wife and children. One day as the
+Coyote-father was strolling along the edge of the forest he met the
+Woodpecker-father.
+
+“_Hin-no-kah-kée-ma_” (Good evening), said the Coyote; “how do you do
+to-day, friend Hloo-rée-deh?”
+
+“Very well, thank you; and how are you, friend Too-wháy-deh?”
+
+So they stopped and talked together awhile; and when they were about
+to go apart the Coyote said:
+
+“Friend Woodpecker, why do you not come as friends to see us? Come to
+our house to supper this evening, and bring your family.”
+
+“Thank you, friend Coyote,” said the Woodpecker; “we will come with
+joy.”
+
+  [Illustration: THE COYOTES AT SUPPER WITH THE WOODPECKERS.]
+
+So that evening, when the Coyote-mother had made supper ready, there
+came the Woodpecker-father and the Woodpecker-mother with their
+three children. When they had come in, all five of the Woodpeckers
+stretched themselves as they do after flying, and by that showed
+their pretty feathers--for the Hloo-rée-deh has yellow and red marks
+under its wings. While they were eating supper, too, they sometimes
+spread their wings, and displayed their bright under-side. They
+praised the supper highly, and said the Coyote-mother was a perfect
+housekeeper. When it was time to go, they thanked the Coyotes very
+kindly and invited them to come to supper at their house the
+following evening. But when they were gone, the Coyote-father could
+hold himself no longer, and he said:
+
+“Did you see what airs those Woodpeckers put on? Always showing off
+their bright feathers? But I want them to know that the Coyotes are
+equal to them. _I’ll_ show them!”
+
+Next day, the Coyote-father had all his family at work bringing wood,
+and built a great fire in front of his house. When it was time to go
+to the house of the Woodpeckers he called his wife and children to
+the fire, and lashed a burning stick under each of their arms, with
+the burning end pointing forward; and then he fixed himself in the
+same way.
+
+“Now,” said he, “we will show them! When we get there, you must lift
+up your arms now and then, to show them that we are as good as the
+Woodpeckers.”
+
+When they came to the house of the Woodpeckers and went in, all the
+Coyotes kept lifting their arms often, to show the bright coals
+underneath. But as they sat down to supper, one Coyote-girl gave a
+shriek and said:
+
+“Oh, _tata_! My fire is burning me!”
+
+“Be patient, my daughter,” said the Coyote-father, severely, “and do
+not cry about little things.”
+
+“Ow!” cried the other Coyote-girl in a moment, “my fire has gone out!”
+
+This was more than the Coyote-father could stand, and he reproved her
+angrily.
+
+“But how is it, friend Coyote,” said the Woodpecker, politely, “that
+your colors are so bright at first, but very soon become black?”
+
+“Oh, that is the beauty of our colors,” replied the Coyote,
+smothering his rage; “that they are not always the same--like other
+people’s--but turn all shades.”
+
+But the Coyotes were very uncomfortable, and made an excuse to hurry
+home as soon as they could. When they got there, the Coyote-father
+whipped them all for exposing him to be laughed at. But the
+Woodpecker-father gathered his children around him, and said:
+
+“Now, my children, you see what the Coyotes have done. Never in your
+life try to appear what you are not. Be just what you really are, and
+put on no false colors.”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“Is that so?” cried the boys.
+
+“That is so; and it is as true for people as for birds. Now,
+_tóo-kwai_--for it is bedtime.”
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON]
+
+VIII
+
+THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON
+
+
+AMONG the principal heroes of the Tée-wahn folk-lore, I hear of none
+more frequently in the winter story-tellings to which my aboriginal
+neighbors admit me, than the mighty Nah-chu-rú-chu. To this day his
+name, which means “The Bluish Light of Dawn,” is deeply revered by
+the quaint people who claim him as one of their forefathers. He had
+no parents, for he was created by the Trues themselves, and by them
+was given such extraordinary powers as were second only to their own.
+His wonderful feats and startling adventures--as still related by
+the believing Isleteños--would fill a volume. One of these fanciful
+myths has interested me particularly, not only for its important
+bearing on certain ethnological matters, but for its intrinsic
+qualities as well. It is a thoroughly characteristic leaf from the
+legendary lore of the Southwest.
+
+Long before the first Spaniards came to New Mexico (and _that_ was
+three hundred and fifty years ago) Isleta stood where it stands
+to-day--on a lava ridge that defies the gnawing current of the Rio
+Grande.[31] In those far days, Nah-chu-rú-chu dwelt in Isleta, and
+was a leader of his people. A weaver by trade,[32] his rude loom hung
+from the dark rafters of his room; and in it he wove the strong black
+_mantas_ which are the dress of Pueblo women to this day.
+
+    [31] Bandelier has published a contrary opinion, to which I do
+    not think he would now cling. The folk-lore and the very name
+    of the town fully prove to me that its site has not changed in
+    historic times.
+
+    [32] In the ancient days, weaving was practised only by the
+    men, among the Pueblos. This old usage is now reversed, and it
+    is the women who weave, except in the pueblos of Moqui.
+
+Besides being very wise in medicine, Nah-chu-rú-chu was young, and
+tall, and strong, and handsome; and all the girls of the village
+thought it a shame that he did not care to take a wife. For him the
+shyest dimples played, for him the whitest teeth flashed out, as the
+owners passed him in the plaza; but he had no eyes for them. Then,
+in the naïve custom of the Tée-wahn, bashful fingers worked wondrous
+fringed shirts of buckskin, or gay awl-sheaths, which found their way
+to his house by unknown messengers--each as much as to say, “She
+who made this is yours, if you will have her.” But Nah-chu-rú-chu
+paid no more attention to the gifts than to the smiles, and just kept
+weaving and weaving such _mantas_ as were never seen in the land of
+the Tée-wahn before or since.
+
+The most persistent of his admirers were two sisters who were called
+_Ee-eh-chóo-ri-ch’áhm-nin_--the Yellow-Corn-Maidens. They were both
+young and pretty, but they “had the evil road”--which is the Indian
+way of saying that they were possessed of a magic power which they
+always used for ill. When all the other girls gave up, discouraged at
+Nah-chu-rú-chu’s indifference, the Yellow-Corn-Maidens kept coming
+day after day, trying to attract him. At last the matter became
+such a nuisance to Nah-chu-rú-chu that he hired the deep-voiced
+town-crier to go through all the streets and announce that in four
+days Nah-chu-rú-chu would choose a wife.
+
+For dippers, to take water from the big earthen _tinajas_, the
+Tée-wahn used then, as they use to-day, queer little ladle-shaped
+_omates_ made of a gourd; but Nah-chu-rú-chu, being a great
+medicine-man and very rich, had a dipper of pure pearl, shaped like
+the gourds, but wonderfully precious.
+
+“On the fourth day,” proclaimed the crier, “Nah-chu-rú-chu will hang
+his pearl _omate_ at his door, where every girl who will may throw a
+handful of corn-meal at it. And she whose meal is so well ground that
+it sticks to the _omate_, she shall be the wife of Nah-chu-rú-chu!”
+
+When this strange news came rolling down the still evening air, there
+was a great scampering of little moccasined feet. The girls ran out
+from hundreds of gray adobe houses to catch every word; and when the
+crier had passed on, they ran back into the store-rooms and began
+to ransack the corn-bins for the biggest, evenest, and most perfect
+ears. Shelling the choicest, each took her few handfuls of kernels
+to the sloping _metate_,[33] and with the _mano_, or hand-stone,
+scrubbed the grist up and down, and up and down, till the hard corn
+was a soft, blue meal. All the next day, and the next, and the next,
+they ground it over and over again, until it grew finer than ever
+flour was before; and every girl felt sure that her meal would stick
+to the _omate_ of the handsome young weaver. The Yellow-Corn-Maidens
+worked hardest of all; day and night for four days they ground and
+ground, with all the magic spells they knew.
+
+    [33] The slab of lava which still serves as a hand-mill in
+    Pueblo houses.
+
+  [Illustration: THE ISLETA GIRLS GRINDING CORN WITH THE “MANO”
+      ON THE “METATE.”]
+
+Now, in those far-off days the Moon had not gone up into the sky
+to live, but was a maiden of Shee-eh-whíb-bak. And a very beautiful
+girl she was, though blind of one eye. She had long admired
+Nah-chu-rú-chu, but was always too maidenly to try to attract his
+attention as other girls had done; and at the time when the crier
+made his proclamation, she happened to be away at her father’s ranch.
+It was only upon the fourth day that she returned to town, and in a
+few moments the girls were to go with their meal to test it upon the
+magic dipper. The two Yellow-Corn-Maidens were just coming from their
+house as she passed, and told her of what was to be done. They were
+very confident of success, and told the Moon-girl only to pain her;
+and laughed derisively as she went running to her home.
+
+  [Illustration: THE MOON-MAIDEN.]
+
+By this time a long file of girls was coming to Nah-chu-rú-chu’s
+house, outside whose door hung the pearl _omate_. Each girl carried
+in her left hand a little jar of meal; and as they passed the door
+one by one, each took from the jar a handful and threw it against
+the magic dipper. But each time the meal dropped to the ground, and
+left the pure pearl undimmed and radiant as ever.
+
+At last came the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, who had waited to watch
+the failure of the others. As they came where they could see
+Nah-chu-rú-chu sitting at his loom, they called: “Ah! Here we have
+the meal that will stick!” and each threw a handful at the _omate_.
+But it did not stick at all; and still from his seat Nah-chu-rú-chu
+could see, in that mirror-like surface, all that went on outside.
+
+The Yellow-Corn-Maidens were very angry, and instead of passing on as
+the others had done, they stood there and kept throwing and throwing
+at the _omate_, which smiled back at them with undiminished luster.
+
+Just then, last of all, came the Moon, with a single handful of meal
+which she had hastily ground. The two sisters were in a fine rage by
+this time, and mocked her, saying:
+
+“Hoh! _P’áh-hlee-oh_,[34] you poor thing, we are very sorry for you!
+Here we have been grinding our meal four days and still it will not
+stick, and you we did not tell till to-day. How, then, can you ever
+hope to win Nah-chu-rú-chu? Pooh, you silly little thing!”
+
+    [34] Tée-wahn name of the moon; literally, “Water-Maiden.”
+
+But the Moon paid no attention whatever to their taunts. Drawing back
+her little dimpled hand, she threw the meal gently against the pearl
+_omate_, and so fine was it ground that every tiniest bit of it clung
+to the polished shell, and not a particle fell to the ground.
+
+  [Illustration: THE YELLOW-CORN-MAIDENS THROWING MEAL AT THE
+      PEARL “OMATE.”]
+
+When Nah-chu-rú-chu saw that, he rose up quickly from his loom and
+came and took the Moon by the hand, saying, “You are she who shall be
+my wife. You shall never want for anything, since I have very much.”
+And he gave her many beautiful _mantas_, and cotton wraps, and fat
+boots of buckskin that wrap round and round, that she might dress as
+the wife of a rich chief. But the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, who had seen
+it all, went away vowing vengeance on the Moon.
+
+Nah-chu-rú-chu and his sweet Moon-wife were very happy together.
+There was no other such housekeeper in all the pueblo as she, and
+no other hunter brought home so much buffalo-meat from the vast
+plains to the east, nor so many antelopes, and black-tailed deer,
+and jack-rabbits from the Manzanos as did Nah-chu-rú-chu. But he
+constantly was saying to her:
+
+“Moon-wife, beware of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, for they have the evil
+road and will try to do you harm, but you must always refuse to do
+whatever they propose.” And always the young wife promised.
+
+One day the Yellow-Corn-Maidens came to the house and said:
+
+“Friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, we are going to the _llano_[35] to gather
+_amole_.[36] Will you not let your wife go with us?”
+
+    [35] Plain.
+
+    [36] The soapy root of the palmilla, used for washing.
+
+“Oh, yes, she may go,” said Nah-chu-rú-chu; but taking her aside, he
+said, “Now be sure that you refuse whatever they may propose.”
+
+The Moon promised, and started away with the Yellow-Corn-Maidens.
+
+In those days there was only a thick forest of cottonwoods where are
+now the smiling vineyards, and gardens, and orchards of Isleta, and
+to reach the _llano_ the three women had to go through this forest.
+In the very center of it they came to a deep _pozo_--a square well,
+with steps at one side leading down to the water’s edge.
+
+“Ay!” said the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, “how hot and thirsty is our walk!
+Come, let us get a drink of water.”
+
+But the Moon, remembering her husband’s words, said politely that she
+did not wish to drink. They urged in vain, but at last, looking down
+into the _pozo_, called:
+
+“Oh, Moon-friend! Come and look in this still water, and see how
+pretty you are!”
+
+The Moon, you must know, has always been just as fond of looking
+at herself in the water as she is to this very day, and forgetting
+Nah-chu-rú-chu’s warning, she came to the brink, and looked down upon
+her fair reflection. But at that very moment, the two witch-sisters
+pushed her head foremost into the _pozo_, and drowned her; and then
+filled the well with earth, and went away as happy as wicked hearts
+can be.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Nah-chu-rú-chu began to look oftener from his loom to the door as
+the sun crept along the adobe floor, closer and closer to his seat;
+and when the shadows were very long, he sprang suddenly to his feet,
+and walked to the house of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens with long, strong
+strides.
+
+“_Ee-eh-chóo-ri-ch’áhm-nin_,” he said, very sternly, “where is my
+little wife?”
+
+“Why, isn’t she at home?” asked the wicked sisters as if in great
+surprise. “She got enough _amole_ long before we did, and started
+home with it. We supposed she had come long ago.”
+
+“Ah,” groaned Nah-chu-rú-chu within himself; “it is as I
+thought--they have done her ill.” But without a word to them he
+turned on his heel and went away.
+
+From that hour all went ill with Isleta, for Nah-chu-rú-chu held
+the well-being of all his people, even unto life and death. Paying
+no attention to what was going on about him, he sat motionless upon
+the very crosspiece of the _estufa_ ladder--the highest point in
+all the town--with his head bowed upon his hands. There he sat for
+days, never speaking, never moving. The children that played along
+the streets looked up to the motionless figure, and ceased their
+boisterous play. The old men shook their heads gravely, and muttered:
+“We are in evil times, for Nah-chu-rú-chu is mourning, and will not
+be comforted. And there is no more rain, so that our crops are drying
+in the fields. What shall we do?”
+
+At last all the councilors met together, and decided that there must
+be another effort made to find the lost wife. It was true that the
+great Nah-chu-rú-chu had searched for her in vain, and the people had
+helped him; but perhaps some one else might be more fortunate. So
+they took some of the sacred smoking-weed wrapped in a corn-husk and
+went to Shée-wid-deh, who has the sharpest eyes in all the world.
+Giving him the sacred gift they said:
+
+“Eagle-friend, we see Nah-chu-rú-chu in great trouble, for he has
+lost his Moon-wife. Come, search for her, we pray you, if she be
+alive or dead.”
+
+So the Eagle took the offering, and smoked the smoke-prayer; and then
+he went winging upward into the very sky. Higher and higher he rose,
+in great upward circles, while his keen eyes noted every stick, and
+stone, and animal on the face of all the world. But with all his
+eyes, he could see nothing of the lost wife; and at last he came back
+sadly, and said:
+
+“People-friends, I went up to where I could see the whole world, but
+I could not find her.”
+
+Then the people went with an offering to the Coyote, whose nose is
+sharpest in all the world; and besought him to try to find the Moon.
+The Coyote smoked the smoke-prayer, and started off with his nose to
+the ground, trying to find her tracks. He trotted all over the earth;
+but at last he too came back without finding what he sought.
+
+Then the troubled people got the Badger to search, for he is best of
+all the beasts at digging--and he it was whom the Trues employed to
+dig the caves in which the people first dwelt when they came to this
+world. The Badger trotted and pawed, and dug everywhere, but he could
+not find the Moon; and he came home very sad.
+
+Then they asked the Osprey, who can see farthest under water, and
+he sailed high above all the lakes and rivers in the world, till he
+could count the pebbles and the fish in them, but he too failed to
+discover the lost Moon.
+
+  [Illustration: THE GRIEF OF NAH-CHU-RÚ-CHU.]
+
+By now the crops were dead and sere in the fields, and thirsty
+animals walked crying along the dry river. Scarcely could the people
+themselves dig deep enough to find so much water as would keep them
+alive. They were at a loss which way to turn; but at last they
+thought: We will go to P’ah-kú-ee-teh-áy-deh,[37] who can find the
+dead--for surely she is dead, or the others would have found her.
+
+    [37] Turkey-buzzard; literally, “water-goose-grandfather.”
+
+So they went to him and besought him. The Turkey-buzzard wept when
+he saw Nah-chu-rú-chu still sitting there upon the ladder, and said:
+“Truly it is sad for our great friend; but for me, I am afraid to
+go, since they who are more mighty than I have already failed; but
+I will try.” And spreading his broad wings he went climbing up the
+spiral ladder of the sky. Higher he wheeled, and higher, till at last
+not even the Eagle could see him. Up and up, till the hot sun began
+to singe his head, and not even the Eagle had ever been so high. He
+cried with pain, but still he kept mounting--until he was so close to
+the sun that all the feathers were burned from his head and neck. But
+he could see nothing; and at last, frantic with the burning, he came
+wheeling downward. When he got back to the _estufa_ where all the
+people were waiting, they saw that his head and neck had been burnt
+bare of feathers--and from that day to this the feathers would never
+grow out again.
+
+“And did you see nothing?” they all asked, when they had bathed his
+burns.
+
+“Nothing,” he answered, “except that when I was half-way down I saw
+in the middle of yon cottonwood forest a little mound covered with
+all the beautiful flowers in the world.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Nah-chu-rú-chu, speaking for the first time. “Go, friend,
+and bring me one flower from the very middle of that mound.”
+
+Off flew the Buzzard, and in a few minutes returned with a little
+white flower. Nah-chu-rú-chu took it, and descending from the ladder
+in silence, walked to his house, while all the wondering people
+followed.
+
+When Nah-chu-rú-chu came inside his home once more, he took a new
+_manta_ and spread it in the middle of the room; and laying the wee
+white flower tenderly in its center, he put another new _manta_ above
+it. Then, dressing himself in the splendid buckskin suit the lost
+wife had made him, and taking in his right hand the sacred _guaje_
+(rattle), he seated himself at the head of the _mantas_ and sang:
+
+    “_Shú-nah, shú-nah!
+    Aí-ay-ay, aí-ay-ay, aí-ay-ay!_”
+
+    (Seeking her, seeking her!
+    There-away, there-away!)
+
+When he had finished the song, all could see that the flower had
+begun to grow, so that it lifted the upper _manta_ a little. Again
+he sang, shaking his gourd; and still the flower kept growing. Again
+and again he sang; and when he had finished for the fourth time, it
+was plain to all that a human form lay between the two _mantas_. And
+when he sang his song the fifth time, the form sat up and moved.
+Tenderly he lifted away the over-cloth, and there sat his sweet
+Moon-wife, fairer than ever, and alive as before![38]
+
+    [38] Nah-chu-rú-chu’s incantation followed the exact form
+    still used by the Indian conjurors of the Southwest in their
+    wonderful trick of making corn grow and mature from the kernel
+    in one day.
+
+For four days the people danced and sang in the public square.
+Nah-chu-rú-chu was happy again; and now the rain began to fall. The
+choked earth drank and was glad and green, and the dead crops came to
+life.
+
+When his wife told him how the witch-sisters had done, he was very
+angry; and that very day he made a beautiful hoop to play the
+_mah-khúr_. He painted it, and put strings across it, decorated with
+beaded buckskin.
+
+“Now,” said he, “the wicked Yellow-Corn-Maidens will come to
+congratulate you, and will pretend not to know where you were. You
+must not speak of that, but invite them to go out and play a game
+with you.”
+
+In a day or two the witch-sisters did come, with deceitful words;
+and the Moon invited them to go out and play a game. They went up to
+the edge of the _llano_, and there she let them get a glimpse of the
+pretty hoop.
+
+“Oh, give us that, Moon-friend,” they teased. But she refused. At
+last, however, she said:
+
+“Well, we will play the hoop-game. I will stand here, and you there;
+and if, when I roll it to you, you catch it before it falls upon its
+side, you may have it.”
+
+So the witch-sisters stood a little way down the hill, and she
+rolled the bright hoop. As it came trundling to them, both grasped
+it at the same instant; and lo! instead of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens,
+there were two great snakes, with tears rolling down ugly faces. The
+Moon came and put upon their heads a little of the pollen of the
+corn-blossom (still used by Pueblo snake-charmers) to tame them, and
+a pinch of the sacred meal for their food.
+
+“Now,” said she, “you have the reward of treacherous friends. Here
+shall be your home among these rocks and cliffs forever, but you must
+never be found upon the prairie; and you must never bite a person.
+Remember you are women, and must be gentle.”
+
+And then the Moon went home to her husband, and they were very happy
+together. As for the sister snakes, they still dwell where she bade
+them, and never venture away; though sometimes the people bring them
+to their houses to catch the mice, for these snakes never hurt a
+person.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE MOTHER MOON
+
+
+AND do you know why it is that the Moon has but one eye? It is a
+short story, but one of the most poetic and beautiful in all the
+pretty folk-lore of the Pueblos.
+
+P’áh-hlee-oh, the Moon-Maiden, was the Tée-wahn Eve[39]--the first
+and loveliest woman in all the world. She had neither father nor
+mother, sister nor brother; and in her fair form were the seeds of
+all humanity--of all life and love and goodness. The Trues, who are
+the unseen spirits that are above all, made T’hoor-íd-deh, the Sun,
+who was to be father of all things; and because he was alone, they
+made for him a companion, the first to be of maids, the first to be a
+wife. From them began the world and all that is in it; and all their
+children were strong and good. Very happy were the Father-all and the
+Mother-all, as they watched their happy brood. He guarded them by day
+and she by night--only there _was_ no night, for then the Moon had
+two eyes, and saw as clearly as the Sun, and with glance as bright.
+It was all as one long day of golden light. The birds flew always,
+the flowers never shut, the young people danced and sang, and none
+knew how to rest.
+
+    [39] She is honored in almost every detail of the Pueblo
+    ceremonials. The most important charm or implement of the
+    medicine-men, the holiest fetish of all, is typical of her. It
+    is called Mah-pah-róo, the Mother, and is the most beautiful
+    article a Pueblo ever fashioned. A flawless ear of pure white
+    corn (a type of fertility or motherhood) is tricked out with a
+    downy mass of snow-white feathers, and hung with ornaments of
+    silver, coral, and the precious turquoise.
+
+But at last the Trues thought better. For the endless light grew
+heavy to the world’s young eyes that knew no tender lids of night.
+And the Trues said:
+
+“It is not well, for so there is no sleep, and the world is very
+tired. We must not keep the Sun and Moon seeing alike. Let us put
+out one of his eyes, that there may be darkness for half the time,
+and then his children can rest.” And they called T’hoor-íd-deh and
+P’áh-hlee-oh before them to say what must be done.
+
+But when she heard that, the Moon-Mother wept for her strong and
+handsome husband, and cried:
+
+“No! No! Take my eyes, for my children, but do not blind the Sun! He
+is the father, the provider--and how shall he watch against harm,
+or how find us game without his bright eyes? Blind me, and keep him
+all-seeing.”
+
+And the Trues said: “It is well, daughter.” And so they took away one
+of her eyes, so that she could never see again so well. Then night
+came upon the tired earth, and the flowers and birds and people slept
+their first sleep, and it was very good. But she who first had the
+love of children, and paid for them with pain as mother’s pay, she
+did not grow ugly by her sacrifice. Nay, she is lovelier than ever,
+and we all love her to this day. For the Trues are good to her, and
+gave her in place of the bloom of girlhood the beauty that is only in
+the faces of mothers.
+
+    So mother-pale above us
+      She bends, her watch to keep,
+    Who of her sight dear-bought the night
+      To give her children sleep.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE MAKER OF THE THUNDER-KNIVES
+
+
+YOU have perhaps seen the beautiful arrow-heads of moss-agate,
+petrified wood, or volcanic glass which were used, until very
+recently, by the Indians of the Southwest, and are still treasured
+by them. At least you are familiar with the commoner flint ones left
+by the aboriginal tribes farther eastward. And seeing them, you must
+have wondered how they were ever made from such fearfully stubborn
+stone--always the very hardest that was accessible to the maker. I
+have tried for six hours, with the finest drills, to make a little
+hole in the thinnest part of an agate arrow-head, to put it on a
+charm-ring; but when the drill and I were completely worn out, there
+was not so much as a mark on the arrow-head to show what we had been
+doing. If you will take one to your jeweler, he will have as poor
+luck.
+
+But the _making_ of the arrow-heads is really a very simple matter;
+and I have fashioned many very fair ones. The only implements are
+part of a peculiarly shaped bone--preferably from the thigh of the
+elk--and a stick about the size of a lead-pencil, but of double the
+diameter. The maker of _puntas_ takes the bone in his left hand;
+in his right is the stick, against which the selected splinter of
+stone is firmly pressed by the thumb. With a firm, steady pressure
+against the sharp edge of the bone, a tiny flake is nicked from the
+splinter. Then the splinter is turned, and a nick is similarly made
+on the other side, just a little ahead of the first; and so on. It is
+by this alternate nicking from opposite sides that the stone-splinter
+grows less by tiny flakes, and is shaped by degrees to a perfect
+arrow-head. If you will notice the edge of an arrow-head, you will
+see plainly that the work was done in this way, for the edge is not
+a straight but a wavy line--sometimes even a zigzag, recalling the
+manner in which saw-teeth are “set.”
+
+Every Indian, and every one who has studied the Indian, knows this.
+But if I ask one of my brown old _compadres_ here, where he got the
+arrow-head which he wears as a charm about his wrinkled neck, he will
+not tell me any such story as that. No, indeed!
+
+Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh, the Horned Toad, gave it to him. So? Oh, yes! He
+talked so nicely to a Horned Toad on the mesa[40] the other day, that
+the little creature put a _punta_ where he could find it the next
+time he went thither.
+
+    [40] Table-land.
+
+Whenever a Pueblo sees a Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh, he jumps from his
+horse or his big farm-wagon, and makes every effort to capture the
+_animalito_ before it can reach a hole. If successful, he pulls from
+his blanket or his legging-garters a red thread--no other color will
+do--and ties it necklace-fashion around the neck of his little
+prisoner. Then he invokes all sorts of blessings on the Horned Toad,
+assures it of his sincere respect and friendship, begs it to remember
+him with a _punta_, and lets it go. Next time he goes to the mesa,
+he fully expects to find an arrow-head, and generally _does_ find
+one--doubtless because he then searches more carefully on that broad
+reach where so many arrow-heads have been lost in ancient wars and
+hunts. Finding one, he prays to the Sun-Father and the Moon-Mother
+and all his other deities, and returns profound thanks to the Horned
+Toad. Some finders put the arrow-head in the pouch which serves
+Indians for a pocket.[41] Some wear it as an amulet on the necklace.
+In either case, the belief is that no evil spirit can approach the
+wearer while he has that charm about him. In fact, it is a sovereign
+spell against witches.
+
+    [41] The “left-hand-bag,” _shur-taí-moo_, because it always
+    hangs from the right shoulder and under the left arm.
+
+The common belief of the Pueblos is that the Horned Toad makes these
+arrow-heads only during a storm, and deposits them at the very
+instant when it thunders. For this reason an arrow-head is always
+called _Kóh-un-shée-eh_, or thunder-knife. The strange appearance
+of this quaint, spiked lizard--which is really not a “hop-toad” at
+all--doubtless suggested the notion; for his whole back is covered
+with peculiar points which have very much the shape and color of
+Indian arrow-heads.
+
+Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh is a very important personage in the Pueblo
+folk-lore. He not only is the inventor and patentee of the arrow-head
+and the scalping-knife,[42] but he also invented irrigation, and
+taught it to man; and is a general benefactor of our race.
+
+    [42] Which were formerly about the same thing--a large and
+    sharp-edged arrow-head or similar stone being the only knife of
+    the Pueblos in prehistoric times.
+
+There is one very sacred folk-story which tells why boys must never
+smoke until they have proved their manhood. Pueblo etiquette is very
+strict on all such points.[43]
+
+    [43] See my “Strange Corners of Our Country” (The Century Co.),
+    chap. xviii.
+
+Once upon a time there lived in Isleta two boys who were cousins. One
+day their grandfather, who was a True Believer (in all the ancient
+rites), caught them in a corner smoking the _weer_. Greatly shocked,
+he said to them:
+
+“Sons, I see you want to be men; but you must prove yourselves before
+you are thought to be. Know, then, that nobody is born with the
+freedom of the smoke, but every one must earn it. So go now, each of
+you, and bring me Quée-hla-kú-ee, the skin of the oak.”
+
+Now, in the talk of men, Quée-hla-kú-ee is another thing; but
+the boys did not know. They got their mothers to give them some
+tortillas,[44] and with this lunch they started for the Bosque (a
+10,000-foot peak twenty miles east of Isleta). Reaching the mountain,
+they went to every kind of tree and cut a little piece of its
+bark--for they were not sure which was the oak. Then they came home,
+very tired, and carried the bark to their grandfather. But when he
+had looked at it all he said:
+
+    [44] A cake of unleavened batter cooked on a hot stone. They
+    look something like a huge flapjack, but are very tough and
+    keep a long time.
+
+“Young men, you have not yet proved yourselves. So now it is for you
+to go again and look for the _oak_-bark.”
+
+At this their hearts were heavy, but they took tortillas and started
+again. On the way they met an old Horned Toad, who stopped them and
+said:
+
+“Young-men-friends, I know what trouble you are in. Your _tata_ has
+sent you for the skin of the oak, but you do not know the oak he
+means. But I will be the one to help you. Take these,” and he gave
+them two large thunder-knives, “and with these in hand go up that
+cañon yonder. In a little way you will see a great many of your
+enemies, the Navajos, camping. On the first hill from which you see
+their fire, there stop. In time, while you wait there, you will hear
+a Coyote howling across the cañon. Then is the time to give your
+enemy-yell [war-whoop] and attack them.”
+
+The boys thanked the Horned Toad and went. Presently they saw the
+camp-fire of the Navajos, and waiting till the Coyote called they
+gave the enemy-yell and then attacked. They had no weapons except
+their thunder-knives, but with these they killed several Navajos, and
+the others ran away. In the dark and their hurry they made a mistake
+and scalped a woman (which was never customary with the Pueblos).
+
+Taking their scalps, they hurried home to their grandfather, and
+when he saw that they had brought the real oak-skin (which is an
+Indian euphemy for “scalp”), he led them proudly to the Cacique, and
+the Cacique ordered the T’u-a-fú-ar (scalp-dance). After the inside
+days, when the takers of scalps must stay in the _estufa_, was the
+dance. And when it came to the round dance at night the two boys were
+dancing side by side.
+
+Then a young woman who was a stranger came and pushed them apart and
+danced between them. She was very handsome, and both fell in love
+with her. But as soon as their hearts thought of love, a skeleton was
+between them in place of the girl--for they who go to war or take a
+scalp have no right to think of love.
+
+They were very frightened, but kept dancing until they were too
+tired, and then went to the singers inside the circle to escape. But
+the skeleton followed them and stood beside them, and they could not
+hide from it.
+
+At last they began to run away, and went to the east. Many moons they
+kept running, but the skeleton was always at their heels. At last
+they came to the Sunrise Lake, wherein dwell the Trues of the East.
+
+The guards let them in, and they told the Trues all that had
+happened, and the skeleton stood beside them. The Trues said: “Young
+men, if you are men, sit down and we will protect you.”
+
+But when the boys looked again at the skeleton they could not stop,
+but ran away again. Many moons they ran north till they came to where
+the Trues of the North dwell in the Black Lake of Tears.
+
+The Trues of the North promised to defend them, but again the
+skeleton came and scared them away; and they ran for many
+moons until they came to the Trues of the West, who dwell in
+T’hoor-kím-p’ah-whée-ay, the Yellow Lake Where the Sun Sets. And
+there the same things happened; and they ran away again to the south,
+till they found the Trues of the South in P’ah-chéer-p’ah-whée-ay,
+the Lake of Smooth Pebbles.
+
+But there again it was the same, and again they ran many moons till
+they came to the Trues of the Center, who live here in Isleta. And
+here the skeleton said to them:
+
+“Why do you run from me now? For when you were dancing you looked at
+me and loved me, but now you run away.”
+
+But they could not answer her, and ran into the room of the Trues of
+the Center, and told their story. Then the Trues gave power to the
+Cum-pa-huit-la-wid-deh[45] to see the skeleton,--which no one else
+in the world could see, except the Trues and the two young men,--and
+said to him:
+
+    [45] Guard at the door of the gods.
+
+“Shoot this person who follows these two.”
+
+So the Cum-pa-huit-la-wid-deh shot the skeleton through with an arrow
+from the left side to the right side,[46] and took the scalp.
+
+    [46] The only official method of killing a witch, which is one
+    of the chief duties of the Cum-pa-huit-la-wen.
+
+That was the end of the skeleton, and the young men were free. And
+when the Trues had given them counsel, they came to their people, and
+told the Cacique all. He made a new scalp-dance, because they had not
+stayed to finish the first one.
+
+And when the dance was done, they told all the people what had
+happened. Then the principals had a meeting and made a rule which is
+to this day, that in the twelve days of the scalp[47] no warrior
+shall think thoughts of love.
+
+    [47] The period of fasting and purification before and during
+    the scalp-dance.
+
+For it was because they had love-thoughts of the Navajo girl that
+her skeleton haunted them. And at the same time it was made the law,
+which still is, that no one shall smoke till he has taken a scalp to
+prove himself a man.
+
+For if the boys had not been smoking when they had not freedom to,
+their grandfather would not have sent them, and all that trouble
+would not have come. And that is why.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE STONE-MOVING SONG
+
+
+THE Horned Toad is also a famous musician--a sort of Pueblo Orpheus,
+whose song charms the very stones and trees. A short folk-story of
+Isleta refers to this.
+
+One day Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh was working in his field. There were many
+very large rocks, and to move them he sang a strong song as he pulled:
+
+    _Yah éh-ah, héh-ah háy-na,
+    Yah, éh-ah, heh-ah hay-na,
+    Wha-naí-kee-ay hee-e-wid-deh
+    Ah-kwe-ée-hee ai-yén-cheh,
+    Yahb-k’yáy-queer ah-chóo-hee._
+
+When he sang this and touched the heaviest stone, it rose up from the
+ground, and went over his head and fell far behind him.
+
+While he worked so, Too-wháy-deh came along; and seeing what
+happened, he wished to meddle, as his way is. So he said:
+
+“Friend Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh, let _me_ do it.”
+
+“No, friend,” said the Horned Toad. “It is better for every one to do
+what he knows, and not to put himself in the work of others.”
+
+“Do not think so,” answered the Coyote. “For I can do this also. It
+is very easy.”
+
+“It is well, then--but see that you are not afraid; for so it will be
+bad.”
+
+Too-wháy-deh laid off his blanket and took hold of the largest rock
+there was, and sang the song. When he sang, the rock rose up in the
+air to go over his head; but he, being scared, ducked his head. Then
+at once the rock fell on him, and he had no bones left. Then the
+Horned Toad laughed, and gave the enemy-yell (war-whoop), saying: “We
+do this to one another!”
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE COYOTE AND THE THUNDER-KNIFE
+
+
+ANOTHER Isleta myth tells of an equally sad misadventure of the
+Coyote.
+
+Once upon a time an old Coyote-father took a walk away from home; for
+in that season of the year his babies were so peevish they would not
+let him sleep. It happened that a Locust was making pottery, under a
+tree; and every time she moved the molding-spoon around the soft clay
+jar, she sang a song. The Coyote, coming near and hearing, thought:
+“Now that is the very song I need to put my _óo-un_ to sleep.” And
+following the sound he came to the tree, and found Cheech-wée-deh at
+work. But she had stopped singing.
+
+“Locust-friend,” said he, “come teach me that song, so that I can
+soothe my children to sleep.” But the Locust did not move to answer;
+and he repeated:
+
+“Locust-friend, come teach me that song.”
+
+Still she did not answer, and the Coyote, losing his patience, said:
+
+“Locust, if you don’t teach me that song, I will eat you up!”
+
+At that, the Locust showed him the song, and he sang with her until
+he knew how.
+
+“Now I know it, thank you,” he said. “So I will go home and sing it
+to my children, and they will sleep.”
+
+So he went. But as he came to a pool, half-way home, a flock of
+Afraids-of-the-Water[48] flew up at his very nose, and drove out his
+memory. He went looking around, turning over the stones and peeping
+in the grass; but he could not find the song anywhere. So he started
+back at last to get the Locust to teach him again.
+
+    [48] The ironical Tée-wahn name for ducks.
+
+But while he was yet far, the Locust saw him, so she shed her skin,
+leaving a dry husk, as snakes do, and filled it with sand. Then she
+made it to sit up, and put the molding-spoon in its hands, and the
+clay jars in front of it; and she herself flew up into the tree.
+
+Coming, the Coyote said: “Friend Locust, show that song again; for
+I got scared, and the song was driven out of me.” But there was no
+answer.
+
+“Hear, Locust! I will ask just once more; and if you do not show me
+the song, I’ll swallow you!”
+
+Still she did not reply; and the Coyote, being angry, swallowed the
+stuffed skin, sand, spoon, and all, and started homeward, saying:
+“_Now_ I think I have that song in me!”
+
+But when he was half-way home he stopped and struck himself, and
+said: “What a fool, truly! For now I am going home without a song.
+But if I had left the Locust alive, and bothered her long enough, she
+would have shown me. I think now I will take her out, to see if she
+will not sing for me.”
+
+So he ran all around, hunting for a black thunder-knife,[49] and
+singing:
+
+    [49] One of obsidian, or volcanic glass.
+
+    Where can I find Shée-eh-fóon?
+    Where can I find Shée-eh-fóon?
+
+At last he found a large piece of the black-rock, and broke it until
+he got a knife. He made a mark on his breast with his finger, saying:
+“Here I will cut, and take her out.”
+
+Then he cut. “Mercy!” said he, “but it bites!” He cut again, harder.
+“Goodness! but how it bites!” he cried, very loud. And cutting a
+third time, he fell down and died. So he did not learn the song of
+the pottery-making.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Quères Pueblos have exactly the same folk-story, except that
+they make the Horned Toad, instead of the Locust, the music-teacher.
+In their version, the Horned Toad, after being swallowed, kills the
+Coyote by lifting its spines. Remembering what I have said of the
+maker of the thunder-knives, you will readily see the analogy between
+this and the obsidian splinter of the Tée-wahn story. It is, indeed,
+one of the most characteristic and instructive examples of the manner
+in which a folk-story becomes changed.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE MAGIC HIDE-AND-SEEK]
+
+XIII
+
+THE MAGIC HIDE-AND-SEEK
+
+
+I FANCY I must have been dozing after that hard ride; for when a
+far-away, cracked voice that could be none other than Grandfather
+Ysidro’s said, “_Kah-whee-cá-me, Lorenso-kaí-deh!_” I started up
+so hastily as to bump my head against the whitewashed wall. That
+may seem a queer sentence to rouse one so sharply; and especially
+when you know what it means. It meant that old Ysidro[50] had just
+finished a story, which I had altogether missed, and was now calling
+upon the old man next him to tell one, by using the customary Pueblo
+saying:
+
+    [50] Pronounced Ee-seé-droh.
+
+“There is a tail to you, Father Lorenso!”
+
+_Kah-whee-cá-me_ is what a Teé-wahn Indian always says in such a
+case, instead of “Now _you_ tell a story, friend.” It is not intended
+as an impolite remark, but merely refers to the firm belief of these
+quaint people that if one were to act like a stubborn donkey, and
+refuse to tell a story when called on, a donkey’s tail would grow
+upon him!
+
+With such a fate in prospect, you may be sure that the roundabout
+invitation thus conveyed is never declined.
+
+Grandfather Lorenso bows his head gravely, but seems in no haste.
+He is indeed impressively deliberate as he slowly makes a cigarette
+from a bit of corn-husk and a pinch of tobacco, lights it upon a coal
+raked out of the fireplace by his withered fingers, blows a slow puff
+eastward, then one to the north, another to the west, a fourth to the
+south, one straight above his head, and one down toward the floor.
+There is one part of the United States where the compass has _six_
+cardinal points (those I have just named), and that is among these
+Indians, and in fact all the others of the Southwest. The cigarette
+plays a really important part in many sacred ceremonies of the
+Pueblos; for, as I have explained, its collective smoke is thought to
+be what makes the rain-clouds and brings the rain; and it is also a
+charm against witches.
+
+Having thus propitiated the divinities who dwell in the directions
+named, Lorenso looks about the circle to see if all are listening.
+The glance satisfies him--as well it may. There are no heedless eyes
+or ears in the audience, of which I am the only white member--and a
+very lucky one, in that I, an “Americano,” am allowed to hear these
+jealously guarded stories, and to see the silent smoke-prayer which
+would never be made if a stranger were present. There are seven agèd
+men here, and nine bright-eyed boys--all _Isleteños_ (inhabitants of
+Isleta). We are huddled around the fireplace in the corner of the
+big, pleasant room, against whose dark rafters and farther white
+walls the shadows dance and waver.
+
+And now, taking a deep puff, Lorenso exclaims:
+
+“_Nah-t’ hóo-ai!_” (In a house.) It has nothing to do with the story;
+but is the prologue to inform the hearers that the story is about to
+open.
+
+“Ah-h-h!” we all responded, which is as much as to say, “We are
+listening--go on”; and Lorenso begins his story.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Once upon a time there was a Teé-wahn village on the other side of
+the mountain, and there lived a man and his wife who thought more
+of the future of their children than did the others. To care better
+for the children they moved to a little ranch some distance from the
+village, and there taught their two little sons all they could. Both
+boys loved the outdoors, and games, and hunting; and the parents were
+well pleased, saying to each other:
+
+“Perhaps some day they will be great hunters!”
+
+By the time the elder boy was twelve and the younger ten, they
+both were very expert with the little bows and arrows their father
+carefully made them; and already they began to bring home many
+rabbits when they were allowed to go a little way from home. There
+was only one command their parents gave about their hunts; and that
+was that they must never, never go south. They could hunt to the
+east, north, and west, but not south.
+
+Day after day they went hunting, and more and more rabbits they
+killed, growing always more expert.
+
+One day when they had hunted eastward, the elder boy said:
+
+“Brother, can you say any reason why we must not go south?”
+
+“I know nothing,” replied the younger, “except what I overheard our
+parents saying one day. They spoke of an old woman who lives in the
+south who eats children; and for that they said they would never let
+us go south.”
+
+“Pooh!” said the elder, “I think nothing of _that_. The real reason
+must be that they wish to save the rabbits in the south, and are
+afraid we would kill them all. There must be many rabbits in that
+_bosque_ [forest] away down there. Let’s go and see--_they_ won’t
+know!”
+
+The younger boy being persuaded, they started off together, and after
+a long walk came to the _bosque_. It was full of rabbits, and they
+were having great sport, when suddenly they heard a motherly voice
+calling through the woods. In a moment they saw an old woman coming
+from the south, who said to the boys:
+
+“_Mah-kóo-oon_ [grandchildren], what are you doing here, where no one
+ever thinks to come?”
+
+“We are hunting, Grandmother,” they replied. “Our parents would never
+let us come south; but to-day we came to see if the rabbits are more
+numerous here than above.”
+
+“Oh!” said the old woman, “this game you see here is _nothing_. Come,
+and I will show you where there is much, and you can carry very large
+rabbits home to your parents.” But she was deceiving them.
+
+She had a big basket upon her back, and stooping for the boys to get
+into it, she carried them farther and farther into the woods. At last
+they came to an old, battered house; and setting the basket down, she
+said:
+
+“Now we have come all the way here, where no one ever came before,
+and there is no way out. You can find no trail, and you will have to
+stay here contented, or I will eat you up!”
+
+The boys were much afraid, and said they would stay and be contented.
+But the old woman went into the house and told her husband--who
+was as wicked as she--to get wood and build a big fire in the
+_horno_.[51] All day long the fire burned, and the oven became hotter
+than it had ever been. In the evening the old witch-woman raked out
+the coals, and calling the boys seized them and forced them into the
+fiery oven.
+
+    [51] An outdoor bake-oven, made of clay, and shaped like a
+    beehive.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“_Tahb-kóon-nahm?_” (Is that so?) we all exclaimed--that being the
+proper response whenever the narrator pauses a moment.
+
+“That is so,” replied Lorenso, and went on.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Then the old woman put a flat rock over the little door of the oven,
+and another over the smoke-hole, and sealed them both tight with
+clay. All that night she and her husband were chuckling to think what
+a nice breakfast they would have--for both of them were witch-people,
+and ate all the children they could find.
+
+But in the morning when she unsealed the oven, there were the two
+boys, laughing and playing together unhurt--for the Wháy-nin[52] had
+come to their aid and protected them from the heat.
+
+    [52] “The Trues,” as the Pueblos call their highest divinities.
+
+Leaving the boys to crawl out, the old woman ran to the house and
+scolded the old man terribly for not having made the oven hot enough.
+“Go this minute,” she said, “and put in the oven all the wood that it
+will hold, and keep it burning all day!”
+
+When night came, the old woman cleaned the oven, which was twice as
+hot as before; and again she put in the boys and sealed it up. But
+the next morning the boys were unhurt and went to playing.
+
+The witch-woman was very angry then; and giving the boys their bows
+and arrows, told them to go and play. She stayed at home and abused
+the old witch-man all day for a poor fire-maker.
+
+When the boys returned in the evening, she said:
+
+“To-morrow, grandchildren, we will play _Nah-oo-p’ah-chée_
+(hide-and-seek), and the one who is found three times by the other
+shall pay his life.”
+
+The boys agreed,[53] and secretly prayed to the Trues to help
+them--for by this time they knew that the old man and the old woman
+“had the bad road.”
+
+    [53] For such a challenge, which was once a common one with the
+    Indians, could not possibly be declined.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+The next day came; and very soon the old woman called them to begin
+the game. The boys were to hide first; and when the old woman had
+turned her eyes and vowed not to look, they went to the door and hid,
+one against each of its jambs. There you could look and look, and
+see the wood through them--for the Trues, to help them, made them
+invisible. When they were safely hidden they whooped, “_Hee-táh!_”
+and the old woman began to hunt, singing the hide-and-seek song:
+
+    _Hee-táh yahn
+    Hee choo-ah-kóo
+    Mee, mee, mee?_
+
+    (Now, now,
+    Which way
+    Went they, went they, went they?)
+
+After hunting some time she called:
+
+“You little fellows are on the door-posts. Come out!”
+
+So the boys came out and “made blind” (covered their eyes) while the
+old woman went to hide. There was a pond close by, with many ducks on
+it; and making herself very little, she went and hid under the left
+wing of the duck with a blue head.[54]
+
+    [54] I should tell you that, being a witch, she could not
+    possibly have gone under the right wing. Everything that is to
+    the left belongs to the witches.
+
+When they heard her “_Hee-táh!_” the boys went searching and singing;
+and at last the elder cried out:
+
+“Old woman, you are under the left wing of the whitest duck on the
+lake--the one with the blue head. Come out!”
+
+This time the boys made themselves small and crawled into the quivers
+beside their bows and arrows. The old woman had to sing her song over
+a great many times, as she went hunting all around; but at last she
+called:
+
+“Come out of the quivers where you are!”
+
+Then the witch made herself very small indeed, and went behind the
+foot of a big crane that was standing on one leg near the lake. But
+at last the boys found her even there.
+
+  [Illustration: “THE WITCH MADE HERSELF VERY SMALL, AND WENT
+      BEHIND THE FOOT OF A BIG CRANE.”]
+
+It was their last turn now, and the old woman felt very triumphant
+as she waited for them to hide. But this time they went up and hid
+themselves under the right arm of the Sun.[55] The old witch hunted
+everywhere, and used all her bad power, but in vain; and when she was
+tired out she had to cry, “_Hee-táh-ow!_” And then the boys came
+down from under the Sun’s arm rejoicing.
+
+    [55] Who is, in the Pueblo belief, the father of all things.
+
+The old witch, taking her last turn, went to the lake and entered
+into a fish, thinking that there she would be perfectly safe from
+discovery. It did take the boys a great while to find her; but at
+last they shouted:
+
+“Old woman, you are in the biggest fish in the lake. Come out!”
+
+As she came walking toward them in her natural shape again, they
+called: “Remember the agreement!” and with their sharp arrows they
+killed the old witch-woman and then the old witch-man. Then they took
+away the two wicked old hearts, and put in place of each a kernel of
+spotless corn; so that if the witches should ever come to life again
+they would no longer be witches, but people with pure, good hearts.
+They never did come to life, however, which was just as well.
+
+Taking their bows and arrows, the boys--now young men, for the
+four “days” they had been with the witches were really four
+years--returned home. At the village they found their anxious
+parents, who had come to ask the Cacique to order all the people out
+to search.
+
+When all saw the boys and heard their story, there was great
+rejoicing, for those two witch-people had been terrors to the village
+for years. On their account no one had dared go hunting to the south.
+And to this day the game is thicker there than anywhere else in the
+country, because it has not been hunted there for so long as in other
+places. The two young men were forgiven for disobedience (which is
+a very serious thing at any age, among the Pueblos), and were made
+heroes. The Cacique gave them his two daughters for wives, and all
+the people did them honor.[56]
+
+    [56] This story seems to be one of the myths about the Hero
+    Twin Brothers, the children of the Sun. They are, next to
+    Sun-Father and Moon-Mother, the chief deities of all the
+    southwestern tribes. In the Quères folk-lore they figure very
+    prominently; but in the Tée-wahn are more disguised.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“Is that so?” we responded; and Lorenso replied, “That is so,”
+gathering his blanket and rising to go without “putting a tail” to
+any one, for it was already late.
+
+I may add that the game of hide-and-seek is still played by my dusky
+little neighbors, the Pueblo children, and the searching-song is
+still sung by them, exactly as the boys and the old witch played and
+sang--but of course without their magical talent at hiding.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+THE RACE OF THE TAILS
+
+
+NEARLY every people has its own version of the race of the Hare and
+the Tortoise. That current among the Pueblos makes the Rabbit the
+hero, by a trick rather cleverer than Æsop’s.
+
+Once the Coyote came where Pee-oo-ée-deh, the little “cotton-tail”
+rabbit, sat at the door of his house, thinking.
+
+“What do you think, friend Pee-oo-ée-deh?” said the Coyote.
+
+“I am thinking, friend Too-wháy-deh, why some have large tails like
+you; but we have no tails. Perhaps if we had tails like yours, we
+could run straight; but now we have to hop.”
+
+“It is true, _ah-bóo_,”[57] said the Coyote, not knowing that the
+Rabbit laughed in his heart. “For I can run faster than any one, and
+never did any gain from me in the foot-races. But _you_,--you just
+hop like a bird.”
+
+    [57] Poor thing.
+
+The Rabbit made a sad face, and the Coyote said: “But come, friend
+Pee-oo-ée-deh, let us run a race. We will run around the world, and
+see who will win. And whichever shall come in first, he shall kill
+the other and eat him.”[58]
+
+    [58] A challenge of this sort, with life as the stake, was
+    very common among all Indians; and it was impossible for the
+    challenged to decline. This story recalls that of the Antelope
+    Boy. Four days always elapsed between the challenge and the
+    race.
+
+“It is well,” answered the Rabbit. “In four days we will run.”
+
+Then the Coyote went home very glad. But Pee-oo-ée-deh called a
+_junta_ of all his tribe, and told them how it was, and the way he
+thought to win the race. And when they had heard, they all said: “It
+is well. Fear not, for we will be the ones that will help you.”
+
+When the fourth day came, the Coyote arrived smiling, and threw down
+his blanket, and stood ready in only the dark blue _taparabo_,[59]
+saying: “But what is the use to run? For I shall win. It is better
+that I eat you now, before you are tired.”
+
+    [59] Breech-clout, which is the only thing worn in a foot-race.
+
+But the Rabbit threw off his blanket, and tightened his _taparabo_,
+and said: “Pooh! For the end of the race is far away, and _there_ is
+time to talk of eating. Come, we will run around the four sides of
+the world.[60] But _I_ shall run underground, for so it is easier for
+me.”
+
+    [60] Which the Pueblos believe to be flat and square.
+
+Then they stood up side by side. And when they were ready, the
+Capitan shouted “_Haí-koo!_” and they ran. The Coyote ran with all
+his legs; but the Rabbit jumped into his hole and threw out sand, as
+those who dig very fast.
+
+Now for many days the Coyote kept running to the east, and saw
+nothing of Pee-oo-ée-deh. But just as he came to the east and was
+turning to the north, up jumped a rabbit from under the ground in
+front of him, and shouted: “We do this to one another”; and jumped
+back in the hole and began to throw out dirt very hard.
+
+“Ai!” said the Coyote. “I wish I could run under the ground like
+that, for it seems very easy. For all these days I have run faster
+than ever any one ran; yet Pe-oo-ée-deh comes to the east ahead of
+me.” But he did not know it was the brother of Pee-oo-ée-deh, who had
+come out to the east to wait for him.
+
+So Too-wháy-deh ran harder; and after many days he came to the end of
+the world, to the north. But just as he was to turn west, up sprang a
+rabbit in front of him, and taunted him, and went back in its hole,
+digging.
+
+The Coyote’s heart was heavy, but he ran _very_ hard. “Surely,” he
+said, “no one can run so fast as _this_.”
+
+But when he came to the west, a rabbit sprang up ahead of him, and
+mocked him, and went again under the ground. And when he had run to
+the south, there was the same thing. At last, very tired and with his
+tongue out, he came in sight of the starting-point, and there was
+Pee-oo-ée-deh, sitting at the door of his house, smoothing his hair.
+And he said: “Pooh! Coyote-friend, we do this to one another. For now
+it is clear that big tails are not good to run with, since I have
+been waiting here a long time for you. Come here, then, that I may
+eat you, though you are tough.”
+
+But Too-wháy-deh, being a coward, ran away and would not pay his
+bet. And all the brothers of Pee-oo-ée-deh laughed for the trick they
+had put upon the Coyote.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In a case which I knew of, years ago, this folk-story seems to have
+given a hint to human racers. A Mexican who owned a large and very
+fleet-footed burro, challenged a young Indian of Acoma to a ten-mile
+race. The Indian was a very famous runner, and the challenger
+depended on the distance alone to wear him out. In accordance with
+the conditions the rivals started together from the goal, the Indian
+on foot, the Mexican on his burro. For about four miles the Indian
+left the galloping donkey far behind; but he could not keep up such
+a tremendous pace, and the burro began to gain. About midway of the
+course where the trail touches a great lava-flow, the Indian dove
+into a cave. Just as the Mexican was passing, out came an Indian,
+passed the burro with a magnificent spurt, and after a long run
+reached the farther goal about a hundred feet ahead. Unfortunately
+for him, however, the trick was detected--he was the twin brother of
+the challenged man, and had awaited him in the cave, taking up the
+race fresh when the first runner was tired!
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+HONEST BIG-EARS
+
+
+NEARLY all of you have seen pictures of the Burro, the quaint little
+donkey of the Southwest. He is very small,--not more than half the
+weight of a smallish mule,--but very strong, very sure-footed,
+and very reliable. And he is one of the drollest, “cutest,”
+wisest-looking creatures on earth.
+
+T’ah-hlá-a-hloon, or Big-ears, as the Tée-wahn call him, does not
+appear very often in their folk-lore--and for a very natural reason.
+Most of these myths were made centuries before a white man ever saw
+this country; and until Europeans came, there were neither horses,
+donkeys, sheep, goats, cats, nor cattle (except the buffalo) in
+either America. It was the Spanish pioneers who gave all these
+animals to the Pueblos. Nor did the Indians have milk, cheese, wheat,
+or metals of any sort. So when we see a story in which any of these
+things are mentioned, we may know that it was made within the last
+three hundred and fifty years--or that an old story has been modified
+to include them.
+
+There is one of these comparatively modern nursery-tales which is
+designed to show the honesty and wisdom of the Burro.
+
+Once Big-ears was coming alone from the farm of his master to Isleta,
+carrying a load of curd cheeses done up in buckskin bags. As he came
+through the hills he met a Coyote, who said:
+
+“Friend Big-ears, what do you carry on your back?”
+
+“I carry many cheeses for my master, friend Too-wháy-deh,” answered
+the Burro.
+
+“Then give me one, friend, for I am hunger-dying.”
+
+“No,” said the Burro, “I cannot give you one, for my master would
+blame me--since they are not mine but his, and a man of the pueblo
+waits for them.”
+
+Many times the Coyote asked him, with soft words; but Big-ears would
+not, and went his way. Then Too-wháy-deh followed him behind, without
+noise, and slyly bit the bag and stole a cheese. But Big-ears did not
+know it, for he could not see behind.
+
+When he came to the pueblo, the man who awaited him unloaded the
+cheeses and counted them. “There lacks one,” he said; “for thy master
+said he would send _so_ many. Where is the other?”
+
+“Truly, I know not,” answered Big-ears, “but I think Too-wháy-deh
+stole it; for he asked me on the way to give him a cheese. But
+wait--I will pay him!”
+
+So Big-ears went back to the hills and looked for the house of
+Too-wháy-deh. At last he found it, but the Coyote was nowhere. So he
+lay down near the hole, and stretched his legs out as if dead, and
+opened his mouth wide, and was very still.
+
+Time passing so, the Old-Woman-Coyote came out of the house to bring
+a jar of water. But when she saw the Burro lying there, she dropped
+her _tinaja_, and ran in crying:
+
+“_Hloo-hli!_[61] come out and see! For a _buffalo_ has died out here,
+and we must take in some meat.”
+
+    [61] Old Man.
+
+So Old-Man-Coyote came out, and was very glad, and began to sharpen
+his knife.
+
+But his wife said: “But before you cut him up, get me the liver, for
+I am very hungry”--and the liver is that which all the foxes like
+best.
+
+Then the Old-Man-Coyote, thinking to please her, went into the
+Burro’s mouth to get the liver; but Big-ears shut his teeth on
+Too-wháy-deh’s head, and jumped up and ran home. The Old-Woman-Coyote
+followed running, crying: “_Ay, Nana!_ Let go!” But Big-ears would
+not listen to her, and brought the thief to his master. When the
+master heard what had been, he killed the Coyote, and thanked
+Big-ears, and gave him much grass. And this is why, ever since,
+Big-ears strikes with his hind feet if anything comes behind him
+slyly; for he remembers how Too-wháy-deh stole the cheese.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE FEATHERED BARBERS
+
+
+THE coyote, one summer day, having taken a bath in the river, lay
+down in the hot sand to dry himself. While he was sleeping there, a
+crowd of Quails came along; and seeing that he was asleep, they said:
+
+“Huh! Here is that foolish Too-wháy-deh. Let us give him a trick!”
+
+So they cut off all his hair, which makes one to be laughed at, and
+ran away.
+
+When the Coyote woke up he was ashamed, and wished to punish those
+who had made him _pelado_; and he ran around to see if he could find
+the tracks of an enemy. There were only the tracks of the Quails, so
+he knew they had done it. Very angry, he followed the trail until it
+went into a large hole. He went all around to see if they had come
+out; but there were no other tracks, so he went in. First the hole
+was big, but then it grew small, and he had to dig. When he had dug a
+long time, he caught a Quail, and he said:
+
+“Ho, Ch’um-níd-deh! It is you that cut my hair and left me a
+laughed-at. But I am going to eat you this very now!”
+
+“No, friend Too-wháy-deh, it was another who did it. You will find
+him farther in, with the scissors[62] still in his hand.”
+
+    [62] This indicates that the tale is comparatively modern.
+
+So the Coyote let that Quail go, and dug and dug till he caught
+another. But that one said the same thing; and Too-wháy-deh let him
+go, and dug after the next one. So it was, until he had let them all
+go, one by one; and when he came to the very end of the hole, there
+were no more.
+
+With this, the Coyote was very angry, and ran out of the hole,
+promising to catch and eat them all. As he came out he met the
+Cotton-tail, and cried with a fierce face:
+
+“Hear, you Pee-oo-ée-deh! If you don’t catch me the Ch’úm-nin that
+cut my hair, I’ll eat _you_!”
+
+“Oh, I can catch them, friend Coyote,” said the Rabbit. “See, here is
+their trail!”
+
+When they had followed the trail a long way, they saw the birds
+sitting and laughing under a bush.
+
+“Now you wait here while I go and catch them,” said Pee-oo-ée-deh. So
+the Coyote sat down to rest. As soon as the Rabbit was near them, the
+Quails flew a little way, and he kept running after them. But as soon
+as they were over a little hill, he turned aside and ran home, and
+the Coyote never knew if the Quails were caught or not.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE ACCURSED LAKE]
+
+XVII
+
+THE ACCURSED LAKE
+
+
+AWAY to the southeast of the Manzano Mountains, two days’ journey
+from my pueblo of Isleta, are the shallow salt lakes. For scores of
+miles their dazzling sheen is visible--a strange patch of silver on
+the vast brown plains. They are near the noblest ruins in our North
+America--the wondrous piles of massive masonry of Abó, Cuaray, and
+the so-called “Gran Quivira”--the latter the home of the silliest
+delusion that ever lured treasure-hunters to their death. The whole
+region has a romantic history, and is important to the scientific
+student. From that locality came, centuries ago, part of the people
+who then founded Isleta, and whose descendants dwell here to this
+day. Perhaps you would like to know _why_ those lakes are salt
+now--for my Indian neighbors say that once they were fresh and full
+of fish, and that the deer and buffalo came from all the country
+round to drink there. The story is very important ethnologically,
+for it tells much of the strange secret religion of the Pueblos, and
+more concerning the method of initiating a young Indian into one of
+the orders of medicine-men--both matters which men of science have
+found extremely difficult to be learned. Here is the story as it is
+believed by the Tée-wahn, and as it was related to me by one of them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Long ago there was still a village east of Shoo-paht-hóo-eh, the
+Eagle-Feather (Manzano) Mountains, and in it lived a famous hunter.
+One day, going out on the plains to the east, he stalked a herd of
+antelopes, and wounded one with his arrows. It fled eastward, while
+the herd went south; and the hunter began to trail it by the drops of
+blood. Presently he came to the largest lake, into which the trail
+led. As he stood on the bank, wondering what to do, a fish thrust its
+head from the water and said:
+
+“Friend Hunter, you are on dangerous ground!” and off it went
+swimming. Before the Hunter could recover from his surprise, a
+Lake-Man came up out of the water and said:
+
+“How is it that you are here, where no human ever came?”
+
+The Hunter told his story, and the Lake-Man invited him to come in.
+When he had entered the lake, he came to a house with doors to the
+east, north, west, and south, and a trap-door in the roof, with a
+ladder; and by the latter door they entered. In their talk together
+the Lake-Man learned that the Hunter had a wife and little son at
+home.
+
+“If that is so,” said he, “why do you not come and live with me? I
+am here alone, and have plenty of other food, but I am no hunter. We
+could live very well here together.” And opening doors on four sides
+of the room he showed the Hunter four other huge rooms, all piled
+from floor to ceiling with corn and wheat and dried squash and the
+like.
+
+“That is a very good offer,” said the astonished Hunter. “I will come
+again in four days; and if my Cacique will let me, I will bring my
+family and stay.”
+
+So the Hunter went home--killing an antelope on the way--and told
+his wife all. She thought very well of the offer; and he went to ask
+permission of the Cacique. The Cacique demurred, for this was the
+best hunter in all the pueblo,[63] but at last consented and gave him
+his blessing.
+
+    [63] All hunters give the Cacique a tenth of their game, for
+    his support.
+
+So on the fourth day the Hunter and his wife and little boy came to
+the lake with all their property. The Lake-Man met them cordially,
+and gave the house and all its contents into the charge of the
+woman.[64]
+
+    [64] As is the custom among all Pueblo Indians.
+
+  [Illustration: THE HUNTER AND THE LAKE-MAN.]
+
+Some time passed very pleasantly, the Hunter going out daily and
+bringing back great quantities of game. At last the Lake-Man, who
+was of an evil heart, pretended to show the Hunter something in the
+east room; and pushing him in, locked the great door and left him
+there to starve--for the room was full of the bones of men whom he
+had already entrapped in the same way.
+
+The boy was now big enough to use his bow and arrows so well that he
+brought home many rabbits; and the witch-hearted Lake-Man began to
+plot to get him, too, out of the way.
+
+So one morning when the boy was about to start for a hunt, he heard
+his mother groaning as if about to die; and the Lake-Man said to him:
+
+“My boy, your mother has a terrible pain, and the only thing that
+will cure her is some ice from T’hoor-p’ah-whée-ai [Lake of the
+Sun],[65] the water from which the sun rises.”
+
+    [65] Located “somewhere to the east”; perhaps the ocean.
+
+“Then,” said the boy, straightway, “if that is so, I will take the
+heart of a man [that is, be brave] and go and get the ice for my
+little mother.” And away he started toward the unknown east.
+
+Far out over the endless brown plains he trudged bravely; until at
+last he came to the house of Shee-chóo-hlee-oh, the Old-Woman-Mole,
+who was there all alone--for her husband had gone to hunt. They were
+dreadfully poor, and the house was almost falling down, and the poor,
+wrinkled Old-Woman-Mole sat huddled in the corner by the fireplace,
+trying to keep warm by a few dying coals. But when the boy knocked,
+she rose and welcomed him kindly and gave him all there was in the
+house to eat--a wee bowl of soup with a patched-up snowbird in it.
+The boy was very hungry, and picking up the snowbird bit a big piece
+out of it.
+
+“Oh, my child!” cried the old woman, beginning to weep. “You have
+ruined me! For my husband trapped that bird these many years ago, but
+we could never get another; and that is all we have had to eat ever
+since. So we never bit it, but cooked it over and over and drank the
+broth. And now not even that is left.” And she wept bitterly.
+
+“Nay, Grandmother, do not worry,” said the boy. “Have you any long
+hairs?”--for he saw many snowbirds lighting near by.
+
+“No, my child,” said the old woman sadly. “There is no other living
+animal here, and you are the first human that ever came here.”
+
+But the boy pulled out some of his own long hair and made snares, and
+soon caught many birds. Then the Old-Woman-Mole was full of joy; and
+having learned his errand, she said:
+
+“My son, fear not, for I will be the one that shall help you. When
+you come into the house of the Trues, they will tempt you with a
+seat; but you must sit down only on what you have.[66] Then they will
+try you with smoking the _weer_, but I will help you.”
+
+    [66] That is, upon his blanket and moccasins, the unvarying
+    etiquette of the Medicine House.
+
+Then she gave him her blessing, and the boy started away to the east.
+At last, after a weary, weary way, he came so near the Sun Lake, that
+the _Whit-lah-wíd-deh_[67] of the Trues saw him coming, and went in
+to report.
+
+    [67] One of an order of medicine-men, who among other duties,
+    act as guards of the Medicine House.
+
+“Let him be brought in,” said the Trues; and the Whit-lah-wíd-deh
+took the boy in and in through eight rooms, until he stood in the
+presence of all the gods, in a vast room. There were all the gods
+of the East, whose color is white, and the blue gods of the North,
+the yellow gods of the West, the red gods of the South, and the
+rainbow-colored gods of the Up, the Down, and the Center, all in
+human shape. Beyond their seats were all the sacred animals--the
+buffalo, the bear, the eagle, the badger, the mountain lion, the
+rattlesnake, and all the others that are powerful in medicine.
+
+Then the Trues bade the boy sit down, and offered him a white _manta_
+(robe) for a seat; but he declined respectfully, saying that he had
+been taught, when in the presence of his elders, to sit on nothing
+save what he brought, and he sat upon his blanket and moccasins. When
+he had told his story, the Trues tried him, and gave him the sacred
+_weer_ to smoke--a hollow reed rammed with _pee-en-hleh_.[68] He
+smoked, and held the smoke bravely. But just then the Old-Woman-Mole,
+who had followed him underground all this way, dug a hole up to his
+very toes; and the smoke went down through his feet into the hole,
+and away back to the Old-Woman-Mole’s house, where it poured out in
+a great cloud. And not the tiniest particle escaped into the room of
+the Trues. He finished the second _weer_[69] without being sick at
+all; and the Trues said, “Yes, he is our son. But we will try him
+once more.” So they put him into the room of the East with the bear
+and the lion; and the savage animals came forward and breathed on
+him, but would not hurt him. Then they put him into the room of the
+North, with the eagle and the hawk; then into the room of the West,
+with the snakes; and lastly, into the room of the South, where were
+the Apaches and all the other human enemies of his people. And from
+each room he came forth unscratched.
+
+    [68] The smoking of the pungent _weer_ is a very severe ordeal;
+    and it is a disgrace to let any of the smoke escape from the
+    mouth or nose.
+
+    [69] Two being the usual number given a candidate for
+    initiation into a medicine order.
+
+“Surely,” said the Trues, “this is our son! But once more we will try
+him.”
+
+They had a great pile of logs built up (“cob-house” fashion), and the
+space between filled with pine-knots. Then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh set
+the boy on the top of the pile and lighted it.
+
+But in the morning, when the guard went out, there was the boy
+unharmed and saying: “Tell the Trues I am cold, and would like more
+fire.”
+
+Then he was brought again before the Trues, who said: “Son, you have
+proved yourself a True Believer, and now you shall have what you
+seek.”
+
+So the sacred ice was given him, and he started homeward--stopping on
+the way only to thank the Old-Woman-Mole, to whose aid he owed his
+success.
+
+When the wicked Lake-Man saw the boy coming, he was very angry, for
+he had never expected him to return from that dangerous mission. But
+he deceived the boy and the woman; and in a few days made a similar
+excuse to send the boy to the gods of the South after more ice for
+his mother.
+
+The boy started off as bravely as before. When he had traveled a
+great way to the south, he came to a drying lake; and there, dying in
+the mud, was a little fish.
+
+“_Ah-bóo_ [poor thing], little fish,” said the boy; and picking it
+up, he put it in his gourd canteen of water. After awhile he came
+to a good lake; and as he sat down to eat his lunch the fish in his
+gourd said:
+
+“Friend Boy, let me swim while you eat, for I love the water.”
+
+So he put the fish in the lake; and when he was ready to go on, the
+fish came to him, and he put it back in his gourd. At three lakes he
+let the fish swim while he ate; and each time the fish came back to
+him. But beyond the third lake began a great forest which stretched
+clear across the world, and was so dense with thorns and brush that
+no man could pass it. But as the boy was wondering what he should
+do, the tiny fish changed itself into a great Fish-Animal with a
+very hard, strong skin,[70] and bidding the boy mount upon its back,
+it went plowing through the forest, breaking down big trees like
+stubble, and bringing him through to the other side without a scratch.
+
+    [70] It is quite possible that this “Fish-Animal with a hard,
+    strong skin,” living far to the south, is the alligator. Of
+    course, the Pueblos never saw that strange saurian; but they
+    probably heard of it in the earliest days from nomad tribes,
+    and as a great scientist has pointed out, we may always
+    depend upon it that there is a nucleus of truth in all these
+    folk-myths. Such a strange animal, once heard of, would be very
+    sure to figure in some story.
+
+“Now, Friend Boy,” said the Fish-Animal, “you saved my life, and I
+will be the one that shall help you. When you come to the house of
+the Trues, they will try you as they did in the East. And when you
+have proved yourself, the Cacique will bring you his three daughters,
+from whom to choose you a wife. The two eldest are very beautiful,
+and the youngest is not; but you ought to choose her, for beauty does
+not always reach to the heart.”
+
+The boy thanked his fish-friend and went on, until at last he came
+to the house of the Trues of the South. There they tried him with
+the _weer_ and the fire, just as the Trues of the East had done, but
+he proved himself a man, and they gave him the ice. Then the Cacique
+brought his three daughters, and said:
+
+“Son, you are now old enough to have a wife,[71] and I see that you
+are a true man who will dare all for his mother. Choose, therefore,
+one of my daughters.”
+
+    [71] For it must be remembered that all these travels had taken
+    many years.
+
+The boy looked at the three girls; and truly the eldest were very
+lovely. But he remembered the words of his fish friend, and said:
+
+“Let the youngest be my wife.”
+
+Then the Cacique was pleased, for he loved this daughter more than
+both the others. And the boy and the Cacique’s daughter were married
+and started homeward, carrying the ice and many presents.
+
+When they came to the great forest, there was the Fish-Animal waiting
+for them, and taking both on his back he carried them safely through.
+At the first lake he bade them good-by and blessed them, and they
+trudged on alone.
+
+  [Illustration: THE CURSING OF THE LAKE.]
+
+At last they came in sight of the big lake, and over it were great
+clouds, with the forked lightning leaping forth. While they were yet
+far off, they could see the wicked Lake-Man sitting at the top of his
+ladder, watching to see if the boy would return, and even while they
+looked they saw the lightning of the Trues strike him and tear him to
+shreds.
+
+When they came to the lake the boy found his mother weeping for him
+as dead. And taking his wife and his mother,--but none of the things
+of the Lake-Man, for those were bewitched,--the boy came out upon the
+shore. There he stood and prayed to the Trues that the lake might be
+accurst forever; and they heard his prayer, for from that day its
+waters turned salt, and no living thing has drunk therefrom.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE MOQUI[72] BOY AND THE EAGLE
+
+    [72] Pronounced Móh-kee.
+
+
+SOME of the folk-stories told in Isleta were evidently invented
+in other pueblos, whence the Tée-wahn have learned them in their
+trading-trips. There is even a story from the far-off towns of Moqui,
+three hundred miles west of here and ninety miles from the railroad.
+The Moquis live in northeast Arizona, in strange adobe towns,[73]
+perched upon impregnable islands of rock, rising far above the bare,
+brown plain. They are seldom visited and little known by white men.
+All the other Pueblo towns and tribes have changed somewhat in the
+present era of American occupation; but the Moquis remain very much
+as they were when the first Spaniard found them--three hundred and
+fifty years ago. They retain many customs long extinct among their
+kindred, and have some of which no trace is to be found elsewhere.
+One of the minor differences, but one which would be almost the first
+to strike a stranger, is the absence of captive eagles in Moqui; and
+this is explained by the following folk-story:
+
+    [73] See “Some Strange Corners of Our Country.” The Century
+    Co., New York.
+
+The Eagle is Kah-báy-deh (commander) of all that flies, and his
+feathers are strongest in medicine.
+
+So long ago that no man can tell how long, there lived in Moqui an
+old man and an old woman, who had two children--a boy and a girl. The
+boy, whose name was Tái-oh, had a pet Eagle, of which he was very
+fond; and the Eagle loved its young master. Despite his youth, Tái-oh
+was a capital hunter; and every day he brought home not only rabbits
+enough for the family, but also to keep the Eagle well fed.
+
+One day when he was about to start on a hunt, he asked his sister to
+look out for the Eagle during his absence. No sooner was he out of
+sight than the girl began to upbraid the bird bitterly, saying: “How
+I hate you, for my brother loves you so much. If it were not for you,
+he would give me many more rabbits, but now you eat them up.”
+
+The Eagle, feeling the injustice of this, was angry; so when she
+brought him a rabbit for breakfast the Eagle turned his head and
+looked at it sidewise, and would not touch it. At noon, when she
+brought him his dinner, he did the same thing; and at night, when
+Tái-oh returned, the Eagle told him all that had happened.
+
+“Now,” said the Eagle, “I am very tired of staying always here in
+Moqui, and I want to go home to visit my people a little. Come and go
+along with me, that you may see where the Eagle-people live.”
+
+“It is well,” replied Tái-oh. “To-morrow morning we will go together.”
+
+In the morning they all went out into the fields, far down in the
+valley, to hoe their corn, leaving Tái-oh at home.
+
+“Now,” said the Eagle, “untie this thong from my leg, friend, and get
+astride my neck, and we will go.”
+
+The string was soon untied, and Tái-oh got astride the neck of the
+great bird, which rose up into the air as though it carried no weight
+at all. It circled over the town a long time, and the people cried
+out with wonder and fear at seeing an Eagle with a boy on his back.
+Then they sailed out over the fields, where Tái-oh’s parents and his
+sister were at work; and all the three began to cry, and went home in
+great sorrow.
+
+The Eagle kept soaring up and up until they came to the very sky.
+There in the blue was a little door, through which the Eagle flew.
+Alighting on the floor of the sky, he let Tái-oh down from his back,
+and said:
+
+“Now, you wait here, friend, while I go and see my people,” and off
+he flew.
+
+Tái-oh waited three days, and still the Eagle did not return; so
+he became uneasy and started out to see what he could find. After
+wandering a long way, he met an old Spider-woman.
+
+“Where are you going, my son?” she asked.
+
+“I am trying to find my friend, the Eagle.”
+
+“Very well, then, I will help you. Come into my house.”
+
+“But how can I come into so small a door?” objected Tái-oh.
+
+“Just put your foot in, and it will open big enough for you to enter.”
+
+So Tái-oh put his foot in, and, sure enough, the door opened wide,
+and he went into the Spider’s house and sat down.
+
+“Now,” said she, “you will have some trouble in getting to the house
+of your friend, the Eagle, for to get there you will have to climb a
+dreadful ladder. It is well that you came to me for help, for that
+ladder is set with sharp arrow-heads and knives of flint, so that
+if you tried to go up it, it would cut your legs off. But I will
+give you this sack of sacred herbs to help you. When you come to the
+ladder, you must chew some of the herbs and spit the juice on the
+ladder, which will at once become smooth for you.”[74]
+
+    [74] This recalls a superstition of the Peruvian mountain
+    Indians, ancient and modern. The latter I have often seen
+    throwing upon a stone at the crest of a mountain pass the quid
+    of coca-leaves they had been chewing. They believe such use
+    of this sacred herb propitiates the spirits and keeps off the
+    terrible _soroche_, or mountain-sickness; and that it also
+    makes veins of metal easier to be worked--softening the stone,
+    even as it did for Tái-oh.
+
+Tái-oh thanked the Spider-woman and started off with the sack. After
+awhile he came to the foot of a great ladder, which went away up out
+of sight. Its sides and rungs were bristling with keen arrow-heads,
+so that no living thing could climb it; but when Tái-oh chewed some
+of the magic herb and spat upon the ladder, all the sharp points fell
+off, and it was so smooth that he climbed it without a single scratch.
+
+After a long, long climb, he came to the top of the ladder, and
+stepped upon the roof of the Eagles’ house. But when he came to the
+door he found it so bristling with arrow-points that whoever might
+try to enter would be cut to pieces. Again he chewed some of the
+herb, and spat upon the door; and at once all the points fell off,
+and he entered safely, and inside he found his Eagle-friend, and all
+the Eagle-people. His friend had fallen in love with an Eagle-girl
+and married her, and that was the reason he had not returned sooner.
+
+Tái-oh stayed there some time, being very nicely entertained, and
+enjoyed himself greatly in the strange sky-country. At last one of
+the wise old Eagle-men came to him and said:
+
+“Now, my son, it is well that you go home, for your parents are very
+sad, thinking you are dead. After this, whenever you see an Eagle
+caught and kept captive, you must let it go; for now you have been
+in our country, and know that when we come home we take off our
+feather-coats and are people like your own.”
+
+So Tái-oh went to his Eagle-friend and said he thought he must go
+home.
+
+“Very well,” said the Eagle; “get on my neck and shut your eyes, and
+we will go.”
+
+So he got on, and they went down out of the sky, and down and down
+until at last they came to Moqui. There the Eagle let Tái-oh down
+among the wondering people, and, bidding him an affectionate good-by,
+flew off to his young wife in the sky.
+
+Tái-oh went to his home loaded down with dried meat and tanned
+buckskin, which the Eagle had given him; and there was great
+rejoicing, for all had given him up as dead. And this is why, to this
+very day, the Moquis will not keep an Eagle captive, though nearly
+all the other Pueblo towns have all the Eagle-prisoners they can get.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE NORTH WIND AND THE SOUTH WIND
+
+
+NEARLY every nation has its folk-lore concerning Jack Frost and his
+anti-type. The cold North Wind is always the enemy of man, and the
+warm South Wind always his friend. The Quères pueblos of Acoma and
+Laguna have an allegorical folk-story, in which the good spirit of
+heat defeats his icy-hearted rival.
+
+Once, long ago, the _ta-pó-pe_ (governor) of Acoma had a beautiful
+daughter, for whom many of the young men had asked in vain, for she
+would have none of them. One day there came climbing up the stone
+ladder to the cliff-built pueblo a tall and handsome stranger. His
+dress glistened with white crystals, and his face, though handsome,
+was very stern. The fair _kot-chin-á-ka_ (chief’s daughter), bending
+at a pool in the great rock to fill her water-jar, saw and admired
+him as he came striding proudly to the village; and he did not fail
+to notice the dusky beauty. Soon he asked for her in due form; and in
+a little while they were to be married.
+
+But, with the coming of Shó-kee-ah--for that was the name of the
+handsome stranger--a sad change befell Acoma. The water froze in the
+springs and the corn withered in the fields. Every morning Shó-kee-ah
+left the town and went away to his home in the far North; and every
+evening he returned, and the air grew chill around. The people could
+raise no crops, for the bitter cold killed all that they planted, and
+nothing would grow but the thorny cactus. To keep from starving, they
+had to eat the cactus-leaves, roasting them first to remove the sharp
+thorns. One day, when the _kot-chin-á-ka_ was roasting cactus-leaves,
+there came another handsome stranger with a sunny smile and stood
+beside her.
+
+“What dost thou there?” he asked; and she told him.
+
+“But do not so,” said the young man, giving her an ear of green corn.
+“Eat this, and I will bring thee more.”
+
+So saying, he was gone; but very soon he returned with such a load of
+green corn as the strongest man could not lift, and carried it to her
+house.
+
+“Roast this,” he said, “and when the people come to thee, give them
+each two ears, for hereafter there shall always be much corn.”
+
+She roasted the corn and gave it to the people, who took it eagerly,
+for they were starving. But soon Shó-kee-ah returned, and the warm,
+bright day grew suddenly cold and cloudy. As he put his foot on the
+ladder to come down into the house (all Pueblo rooms used to be
+entered only from the roof, and thousands are so yet) great flakes
+of snow fell around him; but Mí-o-chin, the newcomer, made it very
+warm, and the snow melted.
+
+“Now,” said Shó-kee-ah, “we will see which is more powerful; and
+he that is shall have the _kot-chin-á-ka_.” Mí-o-chin accepted
+the challenge, and it was agreed that the contest should begin on
+the morrow and last three days. Mí-o-chin went to consult an old
+Spider-woman as to the best way to conquer his powerful rival, and
+she gave him the necessary advice.
+
+Next day the people all gathered to see the trial of strength between
+the two wizards. Shó-kee-ah “made medicine,” and caused a driving
+sleet and a bitter wind that froze all waters. But Mí-o-chin built
+a fire and heated small stones in it, and with them caused a warm
+South Wind, which melted the ice. On the second day, Shó-kee-ah
+used more powerful incantations, and made a deep snow to cover the
+world; but again Mí-o-chin brought his South Wind and chased away
+the snow. On the third day Shó-kee-ah used his strongest spell, and
+it rained great icicles, until everything was buried under them. But
+when Mí-o-chin built his fire and heated the stones, again the warm
+South Wind drove away the ice and dried the earth. So it remained to
+Mí-o-chin; and the defeated Shó-kee-ah went away to his frozen home
+in the North, leaving Mí-o-chin to live happy ever after with the
+_kot-chin-á-ka_, whom he married amid the rejoicing of all the people
+of Acoma.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE TOWN OF THE SNAKE-GIRLS
+
+
+IN the times that were farthest back, the forefathers of those who
+now dwell in Isleta were scattered about in many small villages.
+You have already heard the myths of how the inhabitants of several
+villages finally abandoned their homes and came to live in the
+one big town of the Tée-wahn. Three miles north of Isleta, amid
+the sandy plain of Los Padillas, stands the strange round mesa of
+Shee-em-tóo-ai. It is a circular “island” of hard, black lava, cut
+off from the long lava cliffs which wall the valley of the Rio Grande
+on the west. Its level top, of over fifty acres, is some two hundred
+feet above the plain; the last fifty feet being a stern and almost
+unbroken cliff. Upon its top are still visible the crumbling ruins of
+the pueblo of Poo-reh-tú-ai--a town deserted, as we are historically
+sure, over three hundred and fifty years ago. The mound outlines of
+the round _estufa_, the houses and the streets, are still easy to be
+traced, and bits of pottery, broken arrow-heads, and other relics,
+still abound there. In history we know no more of the pueblo than
+that it was once there, but had been abandoned already when Coronado
+passed in 1540; but my aboriginal friends and fellow-citizens
+of Shee-eh-whíb-bahk have an interesting legend of the pueblo of
+Poo-reh-tú-ai and the cause which led to its abandonment.
+
+When the mesa town was inhabited, so was Isleta; and, being but three
+miles apart, the intercommunication was constant. At one time, four
+hundred years ago or more, there lived in Isleta a very handsome
+youth whose name was K’oo-ah-máh-koo-hóo-oo-aí-deh--which means
+Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob.
+
+In spite of this serious burden of a title, the young man was greatly
+admired, and had many friends. Probably they called him something
+else “for short,” or people wouldn’t have had time to associate
+with him. There were two sisters, very pretty girls, living in
+Poo-reh-tú-ai, and they fell very seriously in love, both with this
+same youth. But he had never really found out how handsome he was,
+and so thought little about girls anyhow, caring more to run fastest
+in the races and to kill the most game in the hunts. The sisters,
+finding that he would not notice their shy smiles, began to make it
+in their way to pass his house whenever they came to Isleta, and to
+say _hin-a-kú-pui-yoo_ (good morning) as they met him on the road.
+But he paid no attention to them whatever, except to be polite; and
+even when they sent him the modest little gift which means “there is
+a young lady who loves you!” he was as provokingly indifferent as
+ever.
+
+After long coquetting in vain, the girls began to hate him as hard
+as before they had loved him. They decided, no doubt, that he was
+_oó-teh_, the Tée-wahn word for “a mean old thing”; and finally one
+proposed that they put him out of the way, for both sisters, young
+and pretty as they were, were witches.
+
+“We will teach him,” said one.
+
+“Yes,” said the other, “he ought to be punished; but how shall we do
+it?”
+
+“Oh, we will invite him to play a game of _mah-khúr_, and then we’ll
+fix him. I’ll go now and make the hoop.”
+
+The witch-sisters made a very gay hoop, and then sent word to the
+youth to meet them at the sacred sand-hill, just west of Isleta, as
+they had important business with him. Wondering what it could be, he
+met them at the appointed time and place.
+
+“Now, Brother Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob,” said the eldest
+sister, “we want to amuse ourselves a little, so let us have a game
+of _mah-khúr_. We have a very nice hoop to play it. You go half-way
+down the hill and see if you can catch it when we roll it to you. If
+you can, you may have the hoop; but if you fail, you come and roll it
+to us and we’ll see if we can catch it.”
+
+So he went down the hill and waited, and the girls sent the bright
+wheel rolling toward him. He was very nimble, and caught it “on the
+fly”; but that very instant he was no longer the tall, handsome
+Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob, but a poor little Coyote, with
+great tears rolling down his cheeks. The witch-sisters came laughing
+and taunting him, and said:
+
+“You see it would have been better to marry us! But now you will
+always be a Coyote and an outcast from home. You may roam to the
+north and to the south and to the west, but never to the east” (and
+therefore not back to Isleta).
+
+The Coyote started off, still weeping; and the two wicked sisters
+went home rejoicing at their success. The Coyote roamed away to
+the west, and at last turned south. After a time he came across a
+party of Isleteños[75] returning from a trading-trip to the Apache
+country. He sneaked about their camp, snapping up odd scraps--for
+he was nearly starved. In the morning the Indians spied this Coyote
+sitting and watching them at a little distance, and they set their
+dogs on him. But the Coyote did not run; and when the dogs came to
+him they merely sniffed and came away without hurting him--though
+every one knows that the dog and the Coyote have been enemies almost
+ever since the world began. The Indians were greatly astonished; and
+one of them, who was a medicine-man, began to suspect that there
+was something wrong. So, without saying anything to the others, he
+walked over to the Coyote and said: “Coyote, are you Coyote-true,
+or somebody bewitched?” But the Coyote made no reply. Again the
+medicine-man asked: “Coyote, are you a man?” At this the Coyote
+nodded his head affirmatively, while tears rolled from his eyes.
+
+    [75] Pronounced Eez-lay-táyn-yos.
+
+“Very well, then,” said the medicine-man, “come with me.” So the
+Coyote rose and followed him to the camp; and the medicine-man fed
+and cared for him as the party journeyed toward Isleta. The last
+night they camped at the big barranca, just below the village;
+and here the medicine-man told his companions the story of the
+bewitchment,--for the Coyote had already told him,--and they were all
+greatly astonished, and very sad to learn that this poor Coyote was
+their handsome friend, K’oo-ah-máh-koo-hóo-oo-aí-deh.
+
+“Now,” said the medicine-man, “we will make a nice hoop and try a
+game.” He made it, and said to the Coyote: “Friend, go and stand over
+there; and when I roll this hoop toward you, you must jump and put
+your head through it before it stops rolling or falls over upon its
+side.”
+
+The Coyote stood off, and the medicine-man sent the hoop rolling
+toward him very hard. Just as it came near enough the Coyote
+made a wonderful jump and put his head squarely through the
+middle of it--and there, instead of the gaunt Coyote, stood the
+Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob, handsome and well and strong as
+ever. They all crowded around to congratulate him and to listen to
+what had befallen him.
+
+“Now,” said the medicine-man, “when we get home, the two
+witch-sisters will come to congratulate you, and will pretend not to
+know anything of the trouble that befell you, and when you see them
+you must invite _them_ to a game of _mah-khúr_.”
+
+It all came about as he said. When the party got back to Isleta all
+the people welcomed the young man whose mysterious disappearance had
+made all sad. The news of his return spread rapidly, and soon reached
+the village of Poo-reh-tú-ai. In a day or two the witch-sisters came
+to Isleta, bringing on their heads baskets of the choicest foods and
+other gifts, which they presented to him in the most cordial manner.
+To see how they welcomed him, one would never fancy that they had
+been the wicked causes of his suffering. He played his part equally
+well, and gave no sign that he saw through their duplicity. At last,
+when they were about to start home, he said: “Sisters, let us come to
+the sand-hill to-morrow to play a little game.”
+
+An invitation--or rather a challenge--of that sort must be accepted
+under all Indian etiquette; and the witch-sisters agreed. So at the
+appointed hour they met him at the sacred hill. He had made a very
+beautiful hoop, and when they saw it they were charmed, and took
+their positions at the foot of the declivity. “One, two, three!”
+he counted; and at the word “three!” sent the hoop rolling down to
+them. They both grabbed it at the same instant, and lo! instead of
+the pretty, but evil-minded sisters of Poo-reh-tú-ai, there lay
+two huge rattlesnakes, with big tears falling from their eyes.
+Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob laid upon their ugly, flat heads a
+pinch of the sacred meal, and they ran out their tongues and licked
+it.
+
+“Now,” he said, “this is what happens to the treacherous. Here in
+these cliffs shall be your home forever. You must never go to the
+river, so you will suffer with thirst and drag yourselves in the dust
+all the days of your life.”
+
+The Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob went back to Isleta, where he
+lived to a ripe old age. As for the snakes, they went to live in the
+cliffs of their own mesa. The people of Poo-reh-tú-ai soon learned
+of the fate of the witch-sisters, and knew that those two great
+snakes, with tears in their eyes, were they. That was the beginning
+of the downfall of Poo-reh-tú-ai; for the people grew fearful of
+one another, lest there might be many more witches, unbeknown,
+among them. The distrust and discontent grew rapidly--for to this
+day nothing on earth will disrupt any Indian community so quickly
+or so surely as the belief that some of the people are witches.
+In a very short time the people decided to abandon Poo-reh-tú-ai
+altogether. Most of them migrated to the Northwest, and I have not
+as yet found even a legend to tell what became of them. The rest
+settled in Isleta, where their descendants dwell to this day. There
+are old men here now who claim that their great-grandfathers used to
+see the two huge rattlesnakes basking on the cliffs of the mesa of
+Shee-em-tóo-ai, and that the snakes always wept when people came near
+them.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+THE DROWNING OF PECOS
+
+
+TWENTY-FIVE miles southeast of Santa Fé, New Mexico, lie the deserted
+ruins of the ancient Pueblo town of Pecos. The village was finally
+abandoned by the Indians in 1840; and their neat houses of adobe
+bricks and stone, and their quaint adobe church, have sadly fallen
+to decay. The history of the abandonment of Pecos is by no means
+startling; but the Indian tradition--for they have already added this
+to their countless myths--is decidedly so. The story is related by
+two aged Pecos Indians who still live in the pueblo of Jemez.
+
+“Now, this is a true story,” said my informant, an Isleteño, who had
+often heard it from them.
+
+Once Pecos was a large village, and had many people.[76] But it came
+that nearly all of them had the evil road, and in the whole town were
+but five True Believers (in the Indian religion). These were an old
+woman, her two sons, and two other young men. Agostin, her elder son,
+was a famous hunter, and very often went to the mountains with a
+friend of his who had an evil spirit--though Agostin was not aware of
+that.
+
+    [76] It was, indeed, the largest pueblo in New Mexico, having
+    at one time a population of about 2000.
+
+One day the friend invited Agostin to go hunting, and next day they
+went to the mountains. Just at the foot they found a herd of deer,
+one of which Agostin wounded. The deer fled up the mountain, and the
+two friends followed by the drops of blood. Half-way to the top they
+came to a second herd, which ran off to the right of the trail they
+were following, and the evil-spirited friend went in pursuit of them,
+while Agostin kept on after the one he had wounded.
+
+He came at last to the very top of the mountain, and there of a
+sudden the trail ceased. Agostin hunted all about, but in vain, and
+at last started down the other side of the mountain.
+
+As he came to a deep cañon he heard singing, and, peering cautiously
+through the bushes, he saw a lot of witch-men sitting around a fallen
+pine and singing, while their chief was trying to raise the tree.
+
+Agostin recognized them all, for they were of Pecos, and he was much
+grieved when he saw his friend among them. Then he knew that the deer
+had all been witches, and that they had led him off on a false trail.
+
+Greatly alarmed, he crept back to a safe distance, and then hurried
+home and told his aged mother all that had happened, asking her if he
+should report it to the Cacique.
+
+“No,” said she, with a sigh, “it is of no use; for he, too, has the
+evil road. There are but few True Believers left, and the bad ones
+are trying to use us up.”
+
+Among the five good people was one of the Cum-pah-whit-lah-wen
+(guards of the medicine-men); and to him Agostin told his story. But
+he also said: “It is of no use. We are too few to do anything.”
+
+At last the bad people falsely accused the old woman, saying that
+her power was more than that of all the medicine-men put together
+(which is a very serious charge, even to-day, among the Indians); and
+challenged her to come before all the people in the medicine-house
+and perform miracles with them, well knowing that she could not. The
+challenge was for life or death; whichever side won was to kill the
+others without being resisted.
+
+The poor old woman told her sons, with tears, saying: “Already we are
+killed. We know nothing of these things, and we may make ready to
+die.”
+
+“Nay, Nana,” said Agostin.[77] “Despair not yet, but prepare lunch
+for Pedro[77] and me, that we go to other villages for advice.
+Perhaps there the medicine-men will tell us something.”
+
+    [77] Pronounced Ah-gohs-téen and Páy-droh.
+
+So the mother, still weeping, made some tortillas, and, strapping
+these to their belts, the young men set out.
+
+Pedro, the younger, went east, and Agostin took the road to the
+north. Whatever person they met, or to whatever village they came,
+they were to seek advice.
+
+When Agostin came to the foot of the mountains, he was very
+thirsty, but there was no water. As he entered a gorge he saw
+Hyo-kwáh-kwah-báy-deh, a little bird which builds its nest with
+pebbles and clay in the crannies of the cliffs, and is of exactly the
+same color as the sandstones. He thought, “Ah, little bird, if you
+could speak I would ask you where there is water, for I am fainting
+with thirst, and dare not eat, for that would make it worse!”
+
+But the little bird, knowing his thought, said:
+
+“Friend Agostin, I see that you are one of the True Believers, and I
+will show you where there is water; or wait, I will go and bring you
+some, for it is very far.” And off he flew.
+
+Agostin waited, and presently the little bird came back, bringing an
+acorn-cup full of water. Then Agostin’s heart sank, and he thought:
+“Alas! what good will that drop do me?”
+
+But the little bird replied: “Do not think that way, friend. Here is
+enough, and even more; for when you drink all you wish, there will
+still be some left.”
+
+And so it was. Agostin drank and drank, then ate some tortillas and
+drank again; and when he was satisfied, the acorn-cup was still
+nearly full.
+
+Then the little bird said: “Now come, and I will lead you. But when
+we come to the top of the mountain, and I say, ‘We are at the top,’
+you must say, ‘No, we are down in the mountain--at the bottom of it.’
+Do not forget.”
+
+Agostin promised, and the little bird flew in front of him. At last
+they were at the top, and the little bird said:
+
+“Here we are, friend, at the top.”
+
+“No,” answered Agostin, “we are down in the mountain--at the bottom
+of it.”
+
+Three times the little bird repeated his words, and three times
+Agostin made the same answer.
+
+At the third reply they found themselves in a room in the
+mountain. There was a door in front of them, and beside it stood a
+Cum-pah-whit-lah-wíd-deh (guard), who said to Agostin--for the little
+bird had disappeared:
+
+“Son, how came you here, where none ever think of coming? Do you
+think you are a man?”
+
+Agostin told the whole story of the witches’ challenge, and of how he
+had gone out to seek advice, and of how the little bird had brought
+him here, and the guard said:
+
+“You are coming with the thought of a man; so now come in,” and he
+opened the door.
+
+But when Agostin entered the inner room, which was so large that no
+end could be seen, he found himself in the presence of the Trues in
+human shape.
+
+There sat the divinities of the East, who are white; and of the
+North, who are blue; and beyond them were the sacred animals--the
+mountain lion, the eagle, bear, buffalo, badger, hawk, rabbit,
+rattlesnake, and all the others that are of the Trues. Agostin was
+very much afraid, but the guard said to him:
+
+“Do not fear, son, but take the heart of a man, and pray to all
+sides.” So he faced to the six sides, praying. When he had finished,
+one of the Trues spoke to him, and said:
+
+“What can it be that brought you here? Take the heart of a man and
+tell us.”
+
+Then Agostin told his whole story; after which the Trues said to him:
+
+“Do not be worried, son. We will help you out of that.”
+
+The principal True of the East said:
+
+“Son, I will give you the clothes you must wear when you are in
+the medicine-house for the contest of power”; and he gave Agostin
+four dark-blue breech-clouts and some moccasins for himself and the
+three other good young men, and a black _manta_ (robe) and pair of
+moccasins for his mother.
+
+“Now,” said the True, “the evil-spirited ones will have this
+medicine-making contest in the _estufa_,[78] and when you enter, you
+five, you must all be dressed in these clothes. The people will all
+be there, old and young, and there will hardly be room for you to
+stand; and they will all sneer at you and spit upon you. But do not
+be sorry. And take this cane to hold between you. Let your mother
+take it with one hand at the bottom, then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh’s
+hand, then her other hand, and then his other hand; and last your
+brother’s hand, your hand, then his other hand, and your other hand
+at the top of all. And when you say, ‘We are at the top of the
+mountain,’ he must answer, ‘No, we are down in the mountain--at the
+bottom of it.’ This you must keep saying. Now go, son, with the heart
+of a man.”
+
+    [78] Where it is sacrilegious to make medicine.
+
+Then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh led Agostin out, and the little bird showed
+him the way down the mountain.
+
+When he reached home it was the afternoon of the appointed day, and
+in the evening the medicine-making contest for life or death was to
+come.
+
+In a little while the younger brother arrived, with his new clothes
+and moccasins torn to shreds; for he had traveled far in a rough
+country, without meeting a soul from whom to ask advice.
+
+Agostin called together the four other True Believers, and told them
+all that had happened and what they must do, giving them the sacred
+clothing.
+
+In the evening they went to the _estufa_, which was crowded with the
+witch-people, so that they had barely room to stand.
+
+Then the evil-spirited ones began to make medicine, and turned
+themselves into bears, coyotes, crows, owls, and other animals. When
+they were done, they said to the old woman:
+
+“Now it is your turn. We will see what you can do.”
+
+“I know nothing about these things,” she said, “but I will do what I
+can, and the Trues will help me.”
+
+Then she and the four young men took hold of the sacred cane as the
+Trues had showed Agostin.
+
+“We are on the top of the mountain,” said he.
+
+“No,” answered his brother, “we are down in the mountain--at the
+bottom of it.”
+
+This they said three times. At the third saying the people heard
+on all sides the _guajes_ of the Trues.[79] At the same moment the
+ladder[80] was jerked violently up out of the room, so that no one
+could get out.
+
+    [79] The thunder is said by the Tée-wahn to be the sacred
+    dance-rattle of their gods.
+
+    [80] The only entrance to any _estufa_ is by a ladder let down
+    through a door in the roof.
+
+Then the two brothers repeated their words again, and at the
+third saying the thunder began to roar outside, and all could hear
+plainly the singing and the _guajes_ of the Trues. It began to rain
+violently, and the water poured down through the roof-door, and the
+lightning stuck its tongue in. The brothers kept repeating their
+words, and soon the water was knee-deep. But where the five True
+Believers stood, holding the cane, the floor was dusty. Soon the
+flood came to the waists of the witch-people, and then to their
+necks, and the children were drowning. Then they cried out to the old
+woman:
+
+“Truly, mother, your power is greater than ours. We submit.”
+
+But she paid no attention to them, and her sons continued their
+words, and the water kept pouring in until it touched the very
+ceiling. But all around the five it stood back like a wall, and they
+were on dry ground.
+
+At last all the evil-spirited ones were drowned. Then the rain ceased
+and the water departed as fast as it had come. The ladder came down
+through the roof-door again, and the five True Believers climbed out
+and went to their homes.
+
+But it was very desolate, for they were the only survivors. Their
+nearest relatives and dearest friends had perished with the other
+witch-people. At last they could no longer bear to live in the lonely
+valley, and they decided to live elsewhere. On the way the old mother
+and one of the men died. Agostin went to the pueblo of Cochití, and
+Pedro and the Whit-lah-wíd-deh settled in the pueblo of Jemez, where
+they are still living (or were in the spring of 1891).
+
+Such is the Indian version of the abandonment of the great pueblo
+which Coronado--that wonderful Spanish explorer--found in 1540. As a
+matter of fact, the Hyó-qua-hoon, or people of Pecos, had dwindled
+away by war, epidemics, and the like, until only five were left; and
+in 1840 these lonely survivors moved to other pueblos, and abandoned
+their ruined town forever. But the story is very valuable, not only
+for the glimpse it affords of some of their most secret beliefs, but
+also as showing how folk-stories of the most aboriginal stamp are
+still coined.
+
+Witchcraft is still a serious trouble in all the pueblos, despite
+the efforts of the medicine-men, whose special duty it is to keep
+down the witches. One little pueblo called Sandia is dying out--as
+many others have done before it--because the medicine-men are
+quietly killing those whom they suspect of being witches. In 1888 a
+very estimable Indian woman of that town was slain by them in the
+customary way,--shot through from side to side with an arrow,--and
+this form of execution is still practised.
+
+In Isleta they fear the Americans too much to indulge in
+witch-killing, for Albuquerque is only a few miles away. But it is
+only a little while ago that a young Isletan who was accused spent
+three months in the neck-stocks in our aboriginal prison, and much
+of the time had to “ride the horse,” sitting with his legs crossed
+upon the adobe floor and the heavy weight of the stocks pressing him
+down, a torture worthy of the Inquisition. The case was kept out of
+the American courts only by the payment of a large sum to his parents
+by his accusers.
+
+One whose eyes or lids look red is always regarded with suspicion
+here, for witch-people are supposed not to sleep at night, but to
+change themselves into animals and roam over the world. Eccentric
+actions also lay one open to accusation; and when I first came here I
+was dangerously near being classed with the witches because, to amuse
+my dusky little neighbors, I imitated various animal cries to their
+great edification, but to the very serious doubt of their elders. The
+fact that they doubt whether Americans know enough to be first-class
+witches was largely instrumental in saving me from serious danger.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: The Ants that Pushed on the Sky]
+
+XXII
+
+THE ANTS THAT PUSHED ON THE SKY
+
+
+A VERY ancient and characteristic story about the origin of Isleta is
+based on the historic fact that part of its founders came from east
+of the Manzano Mountains, from one of the prehistoric pueblos whose
+ruins are now barely visible in those broad plains.
+
+Once upon a time there lived in one of those villages (so runs the
+story) a young Indian named Kahp-too-óo-yoo, the Corn-stalk Young
+Man. He was not only a famous hunter and a brave warrior against
+the raiding Comanches, but a great wizard; and to him the Trues
+had given the power of the clouds. When Kahp-too-óo-yoo willed it,
+the glad rains fell, and made the dry fields laugh in green; and
+without him no one could bring water from the sky. His father was
+Old-Black-Cane, his mother was Corn-Woman, and his two sisters were
+Yellow-Corn-Maiden, and Blue-Corn-Maiden.
+
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo had a friend, a young man of about the same age. But,
+as is often true, the friend was of a false heart, and was really a
+witch, though Kahp-too-óo-yoo never dreamed of such a thing.
+
+The two young men used to go together to the mountains to get wood,
+and always carried their bows and arrows, to kill deer and antelopes,
+or whatever game they might find.
+
+One day the false friend came to Kahp-too-óo-yoo, and said:
+
+“Friend, let us go to-morrow for wood, and to hunt.”
+
+They agreed that so they would do. Next day they started before
+sunrise, and came presently to the spot where they gathered wood.
+Just there they started a herd of deer. Kahp-too-óo-yoo followed part
+of the herd, which fled to the northwest, and the friend pursued
+those that went southwest. After a long, hard chase, Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+killed a deer with his swift arrows, and brought it on his strong
+back to the place where they had separated. Presently came the
+friend, very hot and tired, and with empty hands; and seeing the
+deer, he was pinched with jealousy.
+
+“Come, friend,” said Kahp-too-óo-yoo. “It is well for brothers to
+share with brothers. Take of this deer and cook and eat; and carry a
+part to your house, as if you had killed it yourself.”
+
+“Thank you,” answered the other coldly, as one who will not; but he
+did not accept.
+
+When they had gathered each a load of wood, and lashed it with
+rawhide thongs in bundles upon their shoulders, they trudged
+home--Kahp-too-óo-yoo carrying the deer on top of his wood. His
+sisters received him with joy, praising him as a hunter; and the
+friend went away to his house, with a heavy face.
+
+Several different days when they went to the mountain together, the
+very same thing came to pass. Kahp-too-óo-yoo killed each time a
+deer; and each time the friend came home with nothing, refusing all
+offers to share as brothers. And he grew more jealous and more sullen
+every day.
+
+At last he came again to invite Kahp-too-óo-yoo to go; but this time
+it was with an evil purpose that he asked. Then again the same things
+happened. Again the unsuccessful friend refused to take a share of
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo’s deer; and when he had sat long without a word, he
+said:
+
+“Friend Kahp-too-óo-yoo, now I will prove you if you are truly my
+friend, for I do not think it.”
+
+“Surely,” said Kahp-too-óo-yoo, “if there is any way to prove myself,
+I will do it gladly, for truly I am your friend.”
+
+“Then come, and we will play a game together, and with that I will
+prove you.”
+
+“It is well! But what game shall we play, for here we have nothing?”
+
+Near them stood a broken pine-tree, with one great arm from its
+twisted body. And looking at it, the false friend said:
+
+“I see nothing but to play the _gallo_ race; and because we have no
+horses[81] we will ride this arm of the pine-tree--first I will ride,
+and then you.”
+
+    [81] This mention of the horse is, of course, modern. I think
+    it is an interpolation. The rest of the story bears traces of
+    great antiquity.
+
+So he climbed the pine-tree, and sat astride the limb as upon a
+horse, and rode, reaching over to the ground as if to pick up the
+chicken.[82]
+
+    [82] In imitation of one of the most popular and exciting
+    sports of the Southwestern Indians and Mexicans.
+
+“Now you,” he said, coming down; and Kahp-too-óo-yoo climbed the
+tree and rode on the swinging branch. But the false friend bewitched
+the pine, and suddenly it grew in a moment to the very sky, carrying
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo.
+
+“We do this to one another,” taunted the false friend, as the tree
+shot up; and taking the wood, and the deer which Kahp-too-óo-yoo had
+killed, he went to the village. There the sisters met him, and asked:
+
+“Where is our brother?”
+
+“Truly I know not, for he went northwest and I southwest; and though
+I waited long at the meeting-place, he did not come. Probably he will
+soon return. But take of this deer which I killed, for sisters should
+share the labors of brothers.”
+
+But the girls would take no meat, and went home sorrowful.
+
+Time went on, and still there was no Kahp-too-óo-yoo. His sisters and
+his old parents wept always, and all the village was sad. And soon
+the crops grew yellow in the fields, and the springs failed, and the
+animals walked like weary shadows; for Kahp-too-óo-yoo, he who had
+the power of the clouds, was gone, and there was no rain. And then
+perished all that is green; the animals fell in the brown fields; and
+the gaunt people who sat to warm themselves in the sun began to die
+there where they sat. At last the poor old man said to his daughters:
+
+“Little daughters, prepare food, for again we will go to look for
+your brother.”
+
+The girls made cakes of the blue corn-meal for the journey; and on
+the fourth day they started. Old-Black-Cane hobbled to the south, his
+wife to the east, the elder girl to the north, and the younger to the
+west.
+
+For a great distance they traveled; and at last Blue-Corn-Maiden, who
+was in the north, heard a far, faint song. It was so little that she
+thought it must be imaginary; but she stopped to listen, and softly,
+softly it came again:
+
+    _Tó-ai-fóo-ni-hlóo-hlim,
+    Eng-k’hai k’háhm;
+    Eé-eh-bóori-kóon-hlee-oh,
+    Ing-k’hai k’háhm.
+    Ah-ee-ái, ah-hee-ái,
+    Aim!_
+
+    (Old-Black-Cane
+    My father is called;
+    Corn-Woman
+    My mother is called.
+    _Ah-ee-ái, ah-hee-ái,
+    Aim!_)
+
+When she heard this, Blue-Corn-Maiden ran until she came to her
+sister, and cried:
+
+“Sister! Sister! I think I hear our brother somewhere in captivity.
+Listen!”
+
+Trembling, they listened; and again the song came floating to them,
+so soft, so sad that they wept--as to this day their people weep when
+a white-haired old man, filled with the memories of Kahp-too-óo-yoo,
+sings that plaintive melody.
+
+“Surely it is our brother!” they cried; and off they went running to
+find their parents. And when all listened together, again they heard
+the song.
+
+“Oh, my son!” cried the poor old woman, “in what captivity do you
+find yourself? True it is that your father is Old-Black-Cane, and I,
+your mother, am called Corn-Woman. But why do you sing thus?”
+
+Then all four of them began to follow the song, and at last they came
+to the foot of the sky-reaching pine; but they could see nothing
+of Kahp-too-óo-yoo, nor could their cries reach him. There, on the
+ground, were his bow and arrows, with strings and feathers eaten away
+by time; and there was his pack of wood, tied with the rawhide thong,
+ready to be taken home. But after they had searched everywhere, they
+could not find Kahp-too-óo-yoo; and finally they went home heavy at
+heart.
+
+At last it happened that P’ah-whá-yoo-óo-deh, the Little Black Ant,
+took a journey and went up the bewitched pine, even to its top in the
+sky. When he found Kahp-too-óo-yoo there a prisoner, the Little Black
+Ant was astonished, and said:
+
+“Great _Kah-báy-deh_ [Man of Power], how comes it that you are up
+here in such a condition, while your people at home are suffering and
+dying for rain, and few are left to meet you if you return? Are you
+here of your free will?”
+
+  [Illustration: SOUTH, EAST, NORTH, AND WEST IN SEARCH OF
+      KAHP-TOO-ÓO-YOO.]
+
+“No,” groaned Kahp-too-óo-yoo; “I am here because of the jealousy
+of him who was as my brother, with whom I shared my food and labor,
+whose home was my home, and my home his. He is the cause, for he was
+jealous and bewitched me hither. And now I am dying of famine.”
+
+“If that is so,” said the Little Black Ant, “I will be the one to
+help you”; and he ran down to the world as fast as he could. When he
+got there he sent out the crier to summon all his nation, and also
+that of the _In-toon_, the Big Red Ants. Soon all the armies of the
+Little Black Ants and the Big Red Ants met at the foot of the pine,
+and held a council. They smoked the _weer_ and deliberated what
+should be done.
+
+“You Big Red Ants are stronger than we who are small,” said the
+War-Captain of the Little Black Ants, “and for that you ought to take
+the top of the tree to work.”
+
+“_Een-dah!_” (No) said the War-Captain of the Big Red Ants. “If you
+think we are the stronger, give us the bottom, where we can work
+more, and you go to the top.”
+
+So it was agreed, and the captains made their armies ready. But
+first the Little Black Ants got the cup of an acorn, and mixed in it
+corn-meal and water and honey, and carried it up the tree. They were
+so many that they covered its trunk all the way to the sky.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+When Kahp-too-óo-yoo saw, his heart was heavy, and he thought: “But
+what good will that very little do me, for I am dying of hunger and
+thirst?” “Nay, friend,” answered the Captain of the Little Black
+Ants, who knew his thought. “A person should not think so. This
+little is enough, and there will be some left.”
+
+And it was so; for when Kahp-too-óo-yoo had eaten all he could, the
+acorn-cup was still nearly full. Then the ants carried the cup to the
+ground and came back to him.
+
+“Now, friend,” said the Captain, “we will do our best. But now you
+must shut your eyes till I say ‘_Ahw!_’”
+
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo shut his eyes, and the Captain sent signals down to
+those at the foot of the tree. And the Little Black Ants above put
+their feet against the sky and pushed with all their might on the top
+of the pine; and the Big Red Ants below caught the trunk and pulled
+as hard as they could; and the very first tug drove the great pine a
+quarter of its length into the earth.
+
+“_Ahw!_” shouted the Captain of the Little Black Ants, and
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo opened his eyes; but he could see nothing below.
+
+“Shut your eyes again,” said the Captain, giving the signal. Again
+the Little Black Ants pushed mightily against the sky, and the Big
+Red Ants pulled mightily from below; and the pine was driven another
+fourth of its length into the earth.
+
+“_Ahw!_” cried the Captain; and when Kahp-too-óo-yoo opened his eyes
+he could just see the big, brown world.
+
+Again he closed his eyes. There was another great push and pull,
+and only a quarter of the pine was left above the ground. Now
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo could see, far below, the parched fields strewn with
+dead animals, and his own village full of dying people.
+
+Again the Little Black Ants pushed and the Big Red Ants pulled, and
+this time the tree was driven clear out of sight, and Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+was left sitting on the ground. He hastily made a bow and arrows and
+soon killed a fat deer, which he brought and divided among the Little
+Black Ants and the Big Red Ants, thanking them for their kindness.
+
+Then he made all his clothing to be new, for he had been four years
+a prisoner in the bewitched tree, and was all in rags. Making for
+himself a flute from the bark of a young tree, he played upon it as
+he strode homeward and sang:
+
+    _Kahp-too-óo-yoo tú-mah-quee,
+    Nah-chóor kwé-shay-tin,
+    Nah-shúr kwé-shay-tin;
+    Kahp-too-óo-yoo tú-mah-quee!_
+
+    (Kahp-too-óo-yoo has come to life again,
+    Is back to his home coming,
+    Blowing the yellow and the blue;
+    Kahp-too-óo-yoo has come to life again!)
+
+  [Illustration: KAHP-TOO-ÓO-YOO CALLING THE RAIN.]
+
+As he walked and sang, the forgotten clouds came over him, and the
+soft rain began to fall, and all was green and good. But only so far
+as his voice reached came the rain; and beyond all was still death
+and drought. When he came to the end of the wet, he played and sang
+again; and again the rain fell as far as his voice was heard. This
+time the Fool-Boy, who was wandering outside the dying village, saw
+the far storm and heard the singing. He ran to tell Kahp-too-óo-yoo’s
+parents; but nobody would believe a Foolish, and they sent him away.
+
+When the Fool-Boy went out again, the rain fell on him and gave him
+strength, and he came running a second time to tell. Then the sisters
+came out of the house and saw the rain and heard the song; and they
+cried for joy, and told their parents to rise and meet him. But the
+poor old people were dying of weakness, and could not rise; and the
+sisters went alone. When they met him they fell on their knees,
+weeping; but Kahp-too-óo-yoo lifted them up and blessed them, gave an
+ear of blue corn to Blue-Corn-Maiden, and to Yellow-Corn-Maiden an
+ear of yellow corn, and brought them home.
+
+As he sang again, the rain fell in the village; and when it touched
+the pinched faces of the dead they sat up and opened their mouths to
+catch it. And the dying crawled out to drink, and were strong again;
+and the withered fields grew green and glad.
+
+When they came to the house, Kahp-too-óo-yoo blessed his parents, and
+then said:
+
+“Little sisters, give us to eat.”
+
+But they answered, “How? For you have been gone these four years, and
+there was none to give us rain. We planted, but nothing came, and
+to-day we ate the last grain.”
+
+“Nay, little sisters,” he said. “A person should not think so. Look
+now in the store-rooms, if there be not something there.”
+
+“But we have looked and looked, and turned over everything to try to
+find one grain.”
+
+“Yet look once more,” he said; and when they opened the door, lo!
+there was the store-room piled to the roof with corn, and another
+room was full of wheat. Then they cried for joy, and began to roast
+the blue ears, for they were dying of hunger.
+
+At the sweet smell of the roasting corn came the starving neighbors,
+crowding at the door, and crying:
+
+“O Kahp-too-óo-yoo! Give us to taste one grain of corn, and then we
+will go home and die.”
+
+But Kahp-too-óo-yoo handed to each an ear, and said:
+
+“Fathers, brothers, go now to your own houses, for there you will
+find corn as much as here.” And when they went, it was so. All began
+to roast corn and to eat; and the dead in the houses awoke and were
+strong again, and all the Village sang and danced.
+
+From that time there was plenty of rain, for he who had the power
+of the clouds was at home again. In the spring the people planted,
+and in the fall the crops were so great that all the town could not
+hold them; so that which was left they brought to Shee-eh-whíb-bak
+(Isleta), where we enjoy it to this day.
+
+As for the false friend, he died of shame in his house, not daring to
+come out; and no one wept for him.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T KEEP SUNDAY
+
+
+AMONG the folk-stories of the Pueblos which show at once that they
+are not of such antiquity as the rest, is this. It is plain that the
+story is post-Spanish--that it has been invented within the last
+three hundred and fifty years. That seems to us a long time to go
+back in the history of America, but to the Pueblos it is a trifling
+dot on the long line of their antiquity.
+
+The following tale is an amusing instance of the fashion in which
+some of the myth-makers have mixed things. It is an Indian fairy
+tale, but with a Christian moral--which was learned from the noble
+and effective Spanish missionaries who toiled here.
+
+Once upon a time, in a pueblo south of Isleta,--one of its old
+colonies known as P’ah-que-tóo-ai, the Rainbow Town, but deserted
+long ago,--there were two Indians who were great friends. They
+started in life with equal prospects, married young, and settled in
+the same town. But though friends, their natures were very different.
+One was a good man in his heart, and the other was bad. The good man
+always observed Sunday, but the other worked every day. The good
+man had better luck than the bad; and the latter became jealous. At
+last he said: “Friend, tell me, why is it that you always make more
+success than I?”
+
+“Perhaps,” answered Good, “because I keep Sunday, but work hard all
+the other days of the week, while you work every day.”
+
+Time went on, and both the friends accumulated considerable wealth in
+servants, stock, and ornaments. The good man let his servants rest on
+Sunday, but the bad made his work every day, and did not even give
+them time to smoke. Good prospered most, and had more servants, more
+stock, and more ornaments than Bad, who grew more jealous daily.
+At last Bad said to Good: “Friend, you say that you have good luck
+because you keep Sunday, but I’ll bet I am right in _not_ keeping it.”
+
+“No,” replied Good; “I’ll bet _I_ am right, and that Sunday ought to
+be kept.”
+
+“Then I will bet all my stock against all your stock, and all my
+lands against your lands, and everything we have except our wives.
+To-morrow, be ready about breakfast-time, and we will go out into the
+public road and ask the first three men we meet which of us is right.
+And whichever gets the voice of the majority, he shall be the winner,
+and shall take all that is of the other.”
+
+Good agreed--for an Indian cannot back out of a challenge,--and so
+the next morning the two friends took the public road. In a little
+while they met a man, and said to him: “Friend, we want your voice.
+Which of us is right, the one who observes Sunday and lets his
+_peons_ rest then, or he who does not?”
+
+Now it happened that this person was not a man, but an old devil who
+was taking a walk in human form; and he promptly answered: “Without
+doubt he is right who does not keep Sunday,” and went his road.
+
+“Aha!” said Bad to Good. “You see I got the first voice.”
+
+They started on again and soon met another man, to whom they asked
+the same. But it was the same old devil, and he gave them the same
+answer.
+
+“Aha!” said Bad. “Now I have the second voice, you see.”
+
+Presently they met a third man, and asked him the same, and he
+answered the same; for it was the same old devil in another body.
+
+“Aha!” said Bad, “I am the winner! Get down from that burro, and let
+me have her and her colt, for now all that was yours is mine, as we
+agreed.”
+
+Good got down from the burro with tears in his eyes, for he was
+thinking of his wife, and said:
+
+“Now, friend, having gained all, you are going back to our home; but
+I shall not. Tell my wife that I am going to the next pueblo to seek
+work, and that I will not be back until I have earned as much as I
+have lost in this bet, or more; but tell her not to be sad.”
+
+Then they shook hands and parted, Bad riding home full of joy, and
+Good trudging off through the sand toward Isleta, which was the
+largest and wealthiest pueblo of the tribe. On the road night
+overtook him, and seeing an abandoned house in a field, he hastened
+to it for shelter from the cold of night. A portion of the roof still
+remained, with the _fogon_ (corner fireplace) and chimney, and he
+began to brush a place to lie down. Now it happened that this house
+was the place where all the devils of that country used to meet at
+night; and before Good went to sleep he heard noises of the devils
+coming. He was very much frightened, and to hide himself climbed up
+into the chimney and stood upon its crosspiece.
+
+In a moment the devils began to arrive singly or in pairs; and at
+last came the old devil--the very one who had played the trick on
+Good. He called the meeting to order, and asked them what they had
+been doing. A young devil arose and said:
+
+“The next pueblo is the largest and wealthiest of this nation. For
+three weeks now, all its people, and all the people along that river,
+have been working at the spring from which the river comes, but have
+not been able to undo me. Three weeks ago I came to that spring and
+thought how nice it would be to stop up the spring, and how the
+people would swear if their gods did not send rain. So I stuck a big
+stone in the spring and stopped all the water; and ever since, the
+water will not come out, and the people work in vain, and they are
+dying of thirst, and all their stock. Now they will either forsake
+their gods and serve us, or die like the animals, thinking nothing of
+their past or future.”
+
+“Good!” said the old devil, rubbing his hands. “You have done well!
+But tell me--is there no way to open the spring?”
+
+“There is only one way,” said the young devil, “and one man could do
+that--but they will never think of it. If a man took a long stick,
+shaped like a sword, and went and stood on top of the stone, and
+struck it with the full length of the stick first east and west, and
+then north and south, the water would come out so hard that the stone
+would be thrown out upon the banks and the spring could never be
+stopped again.”
+
+“Is _that_ the only way?” said the old devil. “You have done very
+well, for they certainly will never think to do that. Now for the
+next.”
+
+Then another young devil arose and reported this:
+
+“I, too, have done something. In the pueblo across the mountain I
+have the daughter of the wealthiest man sick in bed, and she will
+never get well. All the medicine-men have tried in vain to cure her.
+She, too, will be ours.”
+
+“Good!” said the old devil. “But is there no way in which any one may
+cure her?”
+
+“Yes, there is one way, but they never will think of that. If a
+person should carry her to the door just as the sun is rising, and
+hold her so that its very first rays would touch the top of her head,
+she would be well at once, and never could be made sick again.”
+
+“You are right,” said the old devil, “they will never think of that.
+You have done well.”
+
+Just then a rooster crowed, and the old devil cried, “You have a
+road!”--which means, “an adjournment is in order.” All the devils
+hurried away; and when they were gone, poor Good crawled down from
+the chimney half dead with fright, and hurried on toward Isleta. When
+he got there he found the people in great trouble, for their crops
+were withering and their cattle dying for want of water.
+
+“I see,” thought Good to himself, “that these devils told the truth
+about one thing, and so perhaps they did about all. I will try to
+undo them, even if I fail.” Going to the Cacique he asked what
+they would give him if he would open the spring. The Cacique told
+the _principales_, and they held a _junta_, and decided to let the
+stranger name his own price.
+
+“Well,” said he, “I will do this if you will give me half the value
+of the whole village.”
+
+They agreed, and asked how many men he would need to help him, and
+when he would begin.
+
+“I need no men. Lend me only a hard stick the length of my
+outstretched arms, and a horse.”
+
+These were given him, and he went to the spring alone. Leaping upon
+the stone he struck it with the full length of the stick east and
+west, and then north and south, and sprang nimbly to the bank. At
+that very instant the water rushed out harder than it had ever done.
+All the people and cattle along the river came to the banks and drank
+and revived. They began to irrigate their fields again, and the dying
+crops grew green.[83] When Good got back to the pueblo, half of all
+the grain and money and dresses and ornaments were piled up in a
+huge pile waiting for him, and half the horses and cattle and sheep
+were waiting in big herds. It was so that he had to hire a great many
+men to help him home with his wealth, which was more than any one
+person ever had before. He appointed a mayordomo to take charge of
+this caravan, and to meet him at a certain point on the way home. He
+himself, taking a horse, rode away at once to the other pueblo, where
+the rich man’s daughter was sick. Arriving at nightfall, he stopped
+at the house of an old woman. While he ate, she told him how sad was
+all the village; for the girl who had been so kind to all was dying.
+
+    [83] Here, as in several other stories in this volume, is a
+    touch of the arid character of the Southwest. The country is
+    always so dry that irrigation is necessary in farming, and in
+    very bad years the streams have not water even for that. The
+    Rio Grande itself frequently disappears in September between
+    certain points in its course in sandy New Mexico; and within
+    ten miles below Isleta I have seen its bed bone-dry. Ignorance
+    of this fact has caused serious blunders on the part of
+    historians unfamiliar with the country of which they wrote.
+
+“But,” said he, “I can cure her.”
+
+“_In-dah_,” said the crone; “for all the medicine men have tried
+vainly, and how shall you?”
+
+“But I can,” he insisted; and at last the old woman went to the rich
+man, and said there was a stranger at her house who was sure he could
+cure the girl.
+
+The _rico_ said: “Go and tell him to come here quickly,” and the old
+woman did so. When Good came, the rich man said: “Are you he who says
+he can cure my daughter?”
+
+“I am the one.”
+
+“For how much will you cure her?”
+
+“What will you give?”
+
+“Half of all I have, which is much.”
+
+“It is well. To-morrow be ready, for I will come just before the sun.”
+
+In the blue of the morning Good came and waked the girl, and carried
+her to the door. In a moment came the sun, and its first ray fell
+upon her bent head. In an instant she was perfectly well, and
+stronger and prettier than ever.
+
+That very day her father gladly divided all his wealth into two
+equal shares, and gave half to Good, who again had to hire many
+cow-boys and men with _carretas_ to help him transport all this. At
+the appointed spot he found his mayordomo; and putting all the stock
+together, with many herders, and all the wagons full of corn and
+dresses and ornaments and money together, started homeward, sending
+ahead a messenger on a beautiful horse to apprise his wife.
+
+When the jealous Bad saw this fine horse going to the house of his
+friend, he ran over to see what it meant; and while he was still
+there, Good arrived with all his wealth. Filled with envy, Bad asked
+him where he had got all this; and Good told the whole story.
+
+“Well,” said Bad, “I will go there too, and perhaps I will hear
+something.” So off he rode on the burro he had won from Good, till he
+came to the deserted house, and climbed up in the chimney.
+
+Soon the devils met, and the two young ones told their chief that the
+spring had been opened and the girl cured, and that neither could
+ever be bewitched again.
+
+“Somebody must have listened to us last night,” said the old devil,
+greatly troubled. “Search the house.” In a little while they found
+the jealous friend in the chimney, and supposing him to be the one
+who had undone them, without mercy puffed him to the place where
+devils live.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+THE BRAVE BOBTAILS
+
+
+WHEN it came old Anastacio’s turn, one night, to tell a story to
+the waiting circle, it was several minutes before he responded to
+the quaint summons; and at last Lorenso repeated: “There is a tail
+to you, _compadre_ Anastacio!” The words seemed to remind him of
+something; for he turned to his fat grandson, and said:
+
+“Juan! Knowest thou why the Bear and the Badger have short tails? For
+once they had them long as Kéem-ee-deh, the Mountain Lion. _In-dah?_
+Then I will tell thee.”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Once in the Days of the Old, it was that a young man lived here in
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak whom they called T’hoor-hlóh-ah, the Arrow of the
+Sun. He was not of the Tée-wahn, but a Ute, who was taken in war
+while yet a child. When the warriors brought him here, a Grandmother
+who was very poor took him for her son, and reared him, loving him
+greatly, and teaching him all the works of men. Coming to be a young
+man, he was a mighty hunter; but so good in his heart that he loved
+the animals as brothers, and they all loved him. When he went out to
+hunt, the first game he killed he always dressed and left there for
+his animal-friends to eat. Sometimes it was Kéem-ee-deh, king of the
+four-feet, who came to the feast Sun-Arrow had made; and sometimes
+Kahr-naí-deh, the Badger, who is best of all to dig, and who showed
+Those of Old how to make their caves; and sometimes the smaller ones.
+They were all grateful; for no other was so kind to feed them.
+
+Now the Grandmother would never let Sun-Arrow go to war, fearing
+that he would be killed; and all the other young men laughed at
+him, because he had never taken the sacred _oak-bark_. And when the
+others danced the great round-dance, he had to stand alone. So he
+was ashamed, and vowed that he would prove himself a man; and taking
+secretly his bow and arrows and his thunder-knife, he went away by
+night alone, and crossed the Eagle-Feather Mountains.
+
+Now in that time there was always great war with the Comanches,
+who lived in the plains. They came often across the mountains and
+attacked Isleta by night, killing many people. Their chief was
+P’ee-kú-ee-fa-yíd-deh, or Red Scalp, the strongest and largest
+and bravest of men. For many years all the warriors of Isleta had
+tried to kill him, for he was the head of the war; but he slew all
+who came against him. He was very brave, and painted his scalp red
+with _páh-ree_, so that he might be known from far; and left his
+scalp-lock very long, and braided it neatly, so that an enemy might
+grasp it well.
+
+Now Sun-Arrow met this great warrior; and with the help of an old
+Spider-woman,[84] slew him and took his scalp. When the people of
+Isleta saw Sun-Arrow returning, the young men began to laugh and say:
+“Va! T’hoor-hlóh-ah has gone to make war again on the rabbits!”
+
+    [84] About equivalent to our “fairy godmother.”
+
+But when he came into the plaza, saying nothing, and they saw that
+_oak-bark_ which all knew, all cried out: “Come and look! For here is
+Sun-Arrow, who was laughed at--and now he has brought the bark of Red
+Scalp, whom our bravest have tried in vain to kill.”
+
+So when he had taken the scalp to the Cacique, and they had had the
+round-dance, and the days of purification were over, they called
+Sun-Arrow the greatest warrior of the Tée-wahn, and made him second
+to the Cacique. Then all who had daughters looked at him with good
+eyes, and all the maidens wished for so brave a husband. But he saw
+none of them, except the youngest daughter of the Cacique; for he
+loved her. When the Grandmother had spoken to the Cacique, and it was
+well, they brought the young people together, and gave them to eat of
+the betrothal corn--to Sun Arrow an ear of the blue corn, and to her
+an ear of the white corn, because the hearts of maidens are whiter
+than those of men. When both had eaten the raw corn, every seed of
+it, the old folks said: “It is well! For truly they love each other.
+And now let them run the marrying-race.”
+
+Then all the people gathered yonder where are the ashes of the
+evil-hearted ones who were burned when Antelope Boy won for his
+people. And the elders marked a course, as of three miles, from
+there to the sacred sand-hill beside the Kú-mai. When they said
+the word, Sun-Arrow and the girl went running like young antelope,
+side by side. Up to the Place of the Bell they ran, and turned back
+running; and when they came to the people, the girl was a little in
+front, and all cried:
+
+“It is well! For now Eé-eh-chah has won a husband, and she shall
+always be honored in her own house.”
+
+So they were married, and the Cacique blessed them. They made a house
+by the plaza,[85] and Sun-Arrow was given of the fields, that he
+might plant.
+
+    [85] Public square in the center of the pueblo.
+
+But of the maidens there was one who did not forgive Sun-Arrow that
+he would not look at her; and in her heart she thought to pay him. So
+she went to a Spider-woman,[86] and said: “Grandmother, help me! For
+this young man despised me, and now I will punish him.”
+
+    [86] Here equivalent to a witch.
+
+Then the Spider-woman made an accursed prayer-stick of the feathers
+of the woodpecker, and spoke to the Ghosts, and said to the girl:
+
+“It is well, daughter! For I am the one that will help you. Take
+only this Toad, and bury it in your floor, _this_ way, and then ask
+T’hoor-hlóh-ah to come to your house.”
+
+The girl made a hole in her floor, and buried P’ah-foo-ée-deh, the
+Toad. Then she went to Sun-Arrow and said: “Friend T’hoor-hlóh-ah,
+come to my house a little; for I have to talk to you.”
+
+But when Sun-Arrow sat down in her house, his feet were upon the
+floor over the hole; and in a moment the Toad grew very great, and
+began to swallow him by the feet. Sun-Arrow kicked and fought, for
+he was very strong. But he could do nothing; and in a little, he was
+swallowed to the knees. Then he called in a great voice for his wife;
+and all the people of the Tée-wahn came running with her. When they
+saw him so, they were very sad; and Eé-eh-chah took his hand, and the
+Grandmother took his other, and all the people helped them. But all
+were not so strong as the great Toad; and fast it was swallowing him,
+until he was at the waist. Then he said:
+
+“Go, my people! Go, my wife! For it is in vain. Go from this place,
+that you may not see me. And pray to the Trues if they will help me.”
+So they all went, mourning greatly.
+
+In that time it came that Shee-íd-deh, the House-Mouse, stirred from
+his hole; and seeing Sun-Arrow _so_, he came to him, weeping.
+
+“Oh, Friend Sun-Arrow!” he cried. “You who have been a father to us
+all, you who have fed us, and have proved yourself so brave--it is
+not deserved that you should be thus. But we for whom you have cared,
+we will be the ones to help you!”
+
+Then Shee-íd-deh ran from the house until he found the Dog, and to
+him told it all. And Quee-ah-níd-deh, whose voice was big, ran out
+into the plains, up and down, _pregonando_[87] to all the animals;
+and they came hurrying from all places. Soon all the birds and all
+the four-feet were met in council in the room where Sun-Arrow was;
+and the Mountain Lion was captain. When he had listened to them, he
+said:
+
+    [87] The technical (Spanish) word for the official heralding by
+    which all announcements are still made among the Pueblos.
+
+“Now let each tribe of you choose from it one who is young and
+strong, to give help to him who has fed us. For we cannot leave him
+to die so.”
+
+When every kind that walks or flies had chosen its strongest one, the
+chosen stood out; Kéem-ee-deh called them by name to take their turns.
+
+“Kóo-ah-raí-deh!” he called; and the Bluebird of the mountains came
+to Sun-Arrow, who was now swallowed up to his armpits. Sun-Arrow
+grasped her long tail with both hands, and she flew and flew with all
+her might, not caring for the pain, until her tail was pulled off.
+But Sun-Arrow was not budged a hair.
+
+Then the captain called Ku-íd-deh, the Bear, to try. He gave his
+long tail to Sun-Arrow to hold; and when he had counted “One, two,
+_three_!” he pulled with a great pull, so hard that his whole tail
+came off. And still Sun-Arrow was not stirred.
+
+Then it was to the Coyote. But _he_ said: “My ears are stronger”; for
+he was a coward, and would not give to pull on his pretty tail, of
+which he is proud. So he gave to Sun-Arrow to hold by his ears, and
+began to pull backward. But soon it hurt him, and he stopped when his
+ears were pulled forward.
+
+“Now it is to you, Kahr-naí-deh,” said the Mountain Lion; and the
+Badger came out to try. First he dug around Sun-Arrow, and gave him
+to hold his tail. Then he counted _three_, and pulled greatly, so
+that his tail came off--and Sun-Arrow was moved a very little. But
+the Badger did not fear the pain, and said:
+
+“Let it be to me twice again, Kah-báy-deh.”[88]
+
+    [88] Commander.
+
+“It is well!” said the Mountain Lion. “So let it be.”
+
+So the Badger dug again, and gave the stump of his tail, and pulled.
+And Sun-Arrow was loosened a little more; but the stump slipped
+through his hands, for it was very short.
+
+“_Around_ me, friend,” said the Badger, when he had dug a third time;
+and Sun-Arrow clasped his hands around the Badger’s body, behind the
+fore legs. Then for the third time Kahr-naí-deh pulled--so mightily
+that he dragged Sun-Arrow clear out from the Toad’s mouth. At that,
+all the animals fell upon the wicked Toad, and killed it; and gave
+thanks to Those Above for the deliverance of their friend.
+
+When they had prayed, Sun-Arrow thanked all the animals, one by one;
+and to the Bluebird, the Bear, and the Badger, he said:
+
+“Friends, how shall I thank you who have suffered so much for me?
+And how can I pay you for your help, and for the tails that you have
+lost?” But to the Coyote he did not say a word.
+
+Then said the Badger:
+
+“Friend T’hoor-hlóh-ah, as for me, your hand has always been held out
+to me. You have fed me, and have been as a father: I want no pay for
+this tail that I have lost.”
+
+And the Bear and the Bluebird both answered the same thing.
+
+So Sun-Arrow again gave them many thanks, and they went away to
+their homes. As for Sun-Arrow, he hurried to the Medicine House,
+where all the Tée-wahn were making medicine[89] that he might be
+saved. And when they saw him entering, his wife ran and cried on his
+shoulder, and all the people gave thanks to the Trues.
+
+    [89] Not compounding remedies, but going through the magic
+    dance and incantations to which the Indians always resort in
+    time of trouble. For a description of a medicine-making, see
+    “Some Strange Corners of Our Country.”
+
+Sun-Arrow told them all that was; and when the Father-of-all-Medicine
+looked in the sacred _cajete_[90] he saw the evil-hearted girl paying
+the Spider-woman. Then the Cum-pah-whít-la-wen[91] went running with
+their bows and arrows, and brought the girl; and she was punished as
+are they that have the evil road. As for the Spider-woman, she was
+already dead of shame; for she knew all that had been.
+
+    [90] A jar of magic water, in which the chief conjuror is
+    supposed to see all that is going on in the world.
+
+    [91] Armed guards of the Medicine House.
+
+In a time it came that his father-in-law the Cacique died; and they
+made Sun-Arrow Cacique in his place. For many years he was so,
+bringing great good to his people; for he was very wise.
+
+As for the Bear, the Badger, and the Bluebird, they would never
+go to the medicine-men of their tribes to have their tails mended
+to grow again; for they were proud that they had suffered to help
+their friend. And to this very day they go with short tails, and
+are honored by all the animals, and by all True Believers. But
+Too-wháy-deh, the coward, he who would not hurt himself with
+pulling--he is a laughed-at to this day. For his ears cannot lie
+back, as is well for beasts, but always point straight forward, as
+Sun-Arrow pulled them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Any one who has ever seen the Coyote, or any other of the wolf or
+fox tribe, must have noticed the alert forward pricking of the ears.
+Among the Pueblos, any such peculiarity of nature--and particularly
+of animal life--is very sure to have a folk-story hung to it. It has
+always seemed to me that the boy who always wants to know “why?” has
+a better time of it among my Indian friends than anywhere else. For
+there is always sure to be a why, and an interesting one--which is
+much more satisfactory than only learning that “it’s bedtime now,” or
+that “I’m busy.”
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE REVENGE of the FAWNS]
+
+XXV
+
+THE REVENGE OF THE FAWNS
+
+
+“DON CARLOS,” said Vitorino, throwing another log upon the fire,
+which caught his tall shadow and twisted it and set it dancing
+against the rocky walls of the cañon in which we were camped for the
+night, “did you ever hear why the Wolf and the Deer are enemies?” And
+as he spoke he stretched out near me, looking up into my face to see
+if I were going to be interested.
+
+A few years ago it would have frightened me very seriously to find my
+self thus--alone in one of the remotest corners of New Mexico save
+for that swarthy face peering up into mine by the weird light of the
+camp-fire. A stern, quiet but manly face it seems to me now; but once
+I would have thought it a very savage one, with its frame of long,
+jet hair, its piercing eyes, and the broad streak of red paint across
+its cheeks. By this time, however, having lived long among the kindly
+Pueblos, I had shaken off that strange, ignorant prejudice against
+all that is unknown--which seems to be inborn in all of us--and
+wondered that I could ever have believed in that brutal maxim, worthy
+only of worse than savages, that “A good Indian is a dead Indian.”
+For Indians are men, after all, and astonishingly like the rest of us
+when one really comes to know them.
+
+I pricked up my ears--very glad at his hint of another of these
+folk-stories.
+
+“No,” I answered. “I have noticed that the Wolf and the Deer are not
+on good terms, but never knew the reason.”
+
+“_Si, señor_,” said he,--for Vitorino knows no English, and most of
+our talk was in Spanish, which is easier to me than the Tée-wahn
+language,--“that was very long ago, and now all is changed. But once
+the Wolf and the Deer were like brothers; and it is only because
+the Wolf did very wickedly that they are enemies. _Con su licencia,
+señor._”[92]
+
+    [92] “With your permission, sir.”
+
+“_Bueno; anda!_”[93]
+
+    [93] “All right; go ahead!”
+
+So Vitorino leaned his shoulders against a convenient rock and began.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Once upon a time, when the Wolf and the Deer were friends, there
+were two neighbors in the country beyond the Rio Puerco, not far
+from where the pueblo of Laguna (a Quères town) now is. One was a
+Deer-mother who had two fawns, and the other a Wolf-mother with two
+cubs. They had very good houses of adobe, just such as we live in
+now, and lived like real people in every way. The two were great
+friends, and neither thought of going to the mountain for firewood or
+to dig _amole_[94] without calling for the other to accompany her.
+
+    [94] The root of the palmilla, generally used for soap
+    throughout the Southwest.
+
+One day the Wolf came to the house of the Deer and said:
+
+“Friend Peé-hlee-oh [Deer-woman], let us go to-day for wood and
+_amole_, for I must wash to-morrow.”
+
+“It is well, friend Káhr-hlee-oh,” replied the Deer. “I have nothing
+to do, and there is food in the house for the children while I am
+gone. _Toó-kwai!_ [Let us go].”
+
+So they went together across the plain and into the hills till they
+came to their customary spot. They gathered wood and tied it in
+bundles to bring home on their backs, and dug _amole_, which they put
+in their shawls to carry. Then the Wolf sat down under a cedar-tree
+and said:
+
+“_Ai!_ But I am tired! Sit down, friend Deer-woman, and lay your head
+in my lap, that we may rest.”
+
+“No, I am not tired,” replied the Deer.
+
+“But just to rest a little,” urged the Wolf. The Deer good-naturedly
+lay down with her head in the lap of her friend. But soon the Wolf
+bent down and caught the trusting Deer by the throat, and killed
+her. That was the first time in the world that any one betrayed a
+friend, and from that deed comes all the treachery that is.
+
+The false Wolf took off the hide of the Deer, and cut off some of the
+meat and carried it home on her load of _amole_ and wood. She stopped
+at the house of the Deer, and gave the Fawns some of the accursed
+meat, saying:
+
+“Friends, Deer-babies, do not fear, but eat; your mother met
+relatives and went to their house, and she will not come to-night.”
+
+The Fawns were very hungry, and as soon as the Wolf had gone home
+they built a big fire in the fireplace and set the meat to cook. But
+at once it began to sputter and to hiss, and the Fawn who was tending
+it heard it cry, “Look out! look out! for this is your mother!”
+
+He was greatly frightened, and called his brother to listen, and
+again the same words came from the meat.
+
+“The wicked old Wolf has killed our _nana_! [mama],” they cried, and,
+pulling the meat from the fire, they laid it gently away and sobbed
+themselves to sleep.
+
+Next morning the Wolf went away to the mountain to bring the rest of
+the deer-meat; and when she was gone her Cubs came over to play with
+the Fawns, as they were used to doing. When they had played awhile,
+the Cubs said:
+
+“_Pee-oo-weé-deh_ [little Deer], why are you so prettily spotted, and
+why do you have your eyelids red, while we are so ugly?”
+
+“Oh,” said the Fawns, “that is because when we were little, like
+you, our mother put us in a room and smoked us, and made us spotted.”
+
+“Oh, Fawn-friends, can’t you spot us, too, so that we may be pretty?”
+
+So the Fawns, anxious to avenge the death of their mother, built a
+big fire of corn-cobs in the fireplace, and threw coyote-grass on it
+to make a great smoke. Then, shutting the Cubs into the room, they
+plastered up the door and windows with mud, and laid a flat rock on
+top of the chimney and sealed it around with mud; and climbing down
+from the roof, they took each other’s hands and ran away to the south
+as fast as ever they could.
+
+After they had gone a long way, they came to a Coyote. He was walking
+back and forth with one paw to his face, howling dreadfully with the
+toothache. The Fawns said to him very politely:
+
+“_Ah-bóo!_ [poor thing]. Old-man friend, we are sorry your tooth
+hurts. But an old Wolf is chasing us, and we cannot stay. If she
+comes this way, asking about us, do not tell her, will you?”
+
+“_Een-dah._ Little-Deer-friends, I will not tell her”--and he began
+to howl again with pain, while the Fawns ran on.
+
+When the Wolf came to her home with the rest of the meat, the Cubs
+were not there; and she went over to the house of the Deer. It was
+all sealed and still; and when she pushed in the door, there were her
+Cubs dead in the smoke! When she saw that, the old Wolf was wild with
+rage, and vowed to follow the Fawns and eat them without mercy. She
+soon found their tracks leading away to the south, and began to
+run very swiftly in pursuit.
+
+  [Illustration: THE WOLF, AND THE COYOTE WITH THE TOOTHACHE.]
+
+In a little while she came to the Coyote, who was still walking up
+and down, howling so that one could hear him a mile away. But not
+pitying his pain, she snarled at him roughly:
+
+“Say, old man! have you seen two Fawns running away?”
+
+The Coyote paid no attention to her, but kept walking with his hand
+to his mouth, groaning, “_Mm-m-páh! Mm-m-páh!_”
+
+Again she asked him the same question, more snappishly, but he only
+howled and groaned. Then she was very angry, and showed her big teeth
+as she said:
+
+“I don’t care about your ‘_Mm-m-páh! Mm-m-páh!_’ Tell me if you saw
+those Fawns, or I’ll eat you this very now!”
+
+“Fawns? _Fawns?_” groaned the Coyote--“I have been wandering with the
+toothache ever since the world began. And do you think I have had
+nothing to do but to watch for Fawns? Go along, and don’t bother me.”
+
+So the Wolf, who was growing angrier all the time, went hunting
+around till she found the trail, and set to running on it as fast as
+she could go.
+
+By this time the Fawns had come to where two Indian boys were playing
+_k’wah-t’hím_[95] with their bows and arrows, and said to them:
+
+    [95] A sort of walking archery.
+
+“Friends boys, if an old Wolf comes along and asks if you have seen
+us, don’t tell her, will you?”
+
+The boys promised that they would not, and the Fawns hurried on. But
+the Wolf could run much faster, and soon she came to the boys, to
+whom she cried gruffly:
+
+“You boys! did you see two Fawns running this way?”
+
+But the boys paid no attention to her, and went on playing their game
+and disputing: “My arrows nearest!” “No; mine is!” “’T ain’t! Mine
+is!” She repeated her question again and again, but got no answer
+till she cried in a rage:
+
+“You little rascals! Answer me about those Fawns, or I’ll eat you!”
+
+At that the boys turned around and said:
+
+“We have been here all day, playing _k’wah-t’hím_, and not hunting
+Fawns. Go on, and do not disturb us.”
+
+So the Wolf lost much time with her questions and with finding the
+trail again; but then she began to run harder than ever.
+
+In the mean time the Fawns had come to the bank of the Rio Grande,
+and there was _P’ah-chah-hlóo-hli_, the Beaver, hard at work cutting
+down a tree with his big teeth. And they said to him very politely:
+
+“Friend Old-Crosser-of-the-Water, will you please pass us over the
+river?”
+
+The Beaver took them on his back and carried them safely across to
+the other bank. When they had thanked him, they asked him not to tell
+the old Wolf about them. He promised he would not, and swam back to
+his work. The Fawns ran and ran, across the plain, till they came to
+a big black hill of lava that stands alone in the valley southeast of
+Tomé.
+
+  [Illustration: THE WOLF MEETS THE BOYS PLAYING WITH THEIR BOWS
+      AND ARROWS.]
+
+“Here!” said one of the Fawns, “I am sure this must be the place
+our mother told us about, where the Trues of our people live. Let us
+look.”
+
+And when they came to the top of the hill, they found a trap-door
+in the solid rock. When they knocked, the door was opened and a
+voice called, “Enter!” They went down the ladder into a great room
+underground; and there they found all the Trues of the Deer-people,
+who welcomed them and gave them food.
+
+When they had told their story, the Trues said:
+
+“Fear not, friends, for we will take care of you.”
+
+And the War-captain picked out fifty strong young bucks for a guard.
+
+By this time the Wolf had come to the river, and there she found the
+Beaver hard at work and grunting as he cut the tree.
+
+“Old man!” she snarled, “did you see two Fawns here?”
+
+But the Beaver did not notice her, and kept on walking around the
+tree, cutting it and grunting, “_Ah-oó-mah! Ah-oó-mah!_”
+
+She was in a terrible rage now, and roared:
+
+“I am not talking ‘_Ah-oó-mah!_’ to you. I’m asking if you saw two
+Fawns.”
+
+“Well,” said the Beaver, “I have been cutting trees here by the river
+ever since I was born, and I have no time to think about Fawns.”
+
+The Wolf, crazy with rage, ran up and down the bank, and at last came
+back and said:
+
+“Old man, if you will carry me over the river I will pay you; but if
+you don’t, I’ll eat you up.”
+
+“Well, wait then till I cut around the tree three times more,” said
+the Beaver; and he made her wait. Then he jumped down in the water
+and took her on his neck, and began to swim across. But as soon as
+he came where the water was deep, he dived to the bottom and stayed
+there as long as he could.
+
+“Ah-h-h!” sputtered the Wolf when he came to the surface. As soon as
+the Beaver got a breath, down he went again; and so he kept doing all
+the way across, until the Wolf was nearly drowned--but she clung to
+his neck desperately, and he could not shake her off.
+
+When they came to the shore the old Wolf was choking, coughing, and
+crying, and so mad that she would not pay the Beaver as she had
+promised--and from that day to this the Beaver will never again ferry
+a Wolf across the river.
+
+Presently she found the trail, and came running to the hill. When she
+knocked on the trap-door a voice from within called, “Who?”
+
+“Wolf-woman,” she answered as politely as she could, restraining her
+anger.
+
+“Come down,” said the voice, and hearing her name the fifty young
+Deer-warriors--who had carefully whetted their horns--stood ready.
+The door flew open, and she started down the ladder. But as soon as
+she set her foot on the first rung, all the Deer-people shouted:
+
+“Look what feet!” For, though the Deer is so much larger than the
+Wolf, it has smaller feet.
+
+At this she was very much ashamed, and pulled back her foot; but soon
+her anger was stronger, and she started down again. But each time
+the Deer-people laughed and shouted, and she drew back.
+
+  [Illustration: “THE FAWNS APPEARED SUDDENLY, AND AT SIGHT OF
+      THEM THE WOLF DROPPED THE SPOONFUL OF SOUP.”]
+
+At last they were quiet, and she came down the ladder. When she had
+told her story the old men of the Deer-people said:
+
+“This is a serious case, and we must not judge it lightly. Come,
+we will make an agreement. Let soup be brought, and we will eat
+together. And if you eat all your soup without spilling a drop, you
+shall have the Fawns.”
+
+“Ho!” thought the Wolf. “_That_ is easy enough, for I will be very
+careful.” And aloud she said: “It is well. Let us eat.”
+
+So a big bowl of soup was brought, and each took a _guayave_[96] and
+rolled it like a spoon to dip up the soup. The old Wolf was very
+careful, and had almost finished her soup without spilling a drop.
+But just as she was lifting the last sup to her mouth the Fawns
+appeared suddenly in the door of the next room, and at sight of them
+she dropped the soup in her lap.
+
+    [96] An Indian bread made by spreading successive films of
+    blue corn-meal batter on a flat hot stone. It looks more like
+    a piece of wasp’s nest than anything else, but is very good to
+    eat.
+
+“She spilled!” shouted all the Deer-people, and the fifty chosen
+warriors rushed upon her and tore her to pieces with their sharp
+horns.
+
+That was the end of the treacherous Wolf; and from that day the Wolf
+and the Deer have been enemies, and the Wolf is a little afraid of
+the Deer. And the two Fawns? Oh, they still live with the Deer-people
+in that black hill below Tomé.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+THE SOBBING PINE
+
+
+ANOTHER folk-story told by the Quères colony in Isleta also relates
+to Acoma, perched upon the great round cliff in its far, fair valley.
+
+Among the folk-lore heroes of whom every Quères lad has heard is
+Ees-tée-ah Muts, the Arrow Boy. He was a great hunter and did many
+remarkable things, but there was once a time when all his courage
+and strength were of no avail,--when but for the help of a little
+squirrel he would have perished miserably.
+
+On reaching manhood Ees-tée-ah Muts married the daughter of
+the Kot-chin (chief). She was a very beautiful girl and her
+hunter-husband was very fond of her. But, alas! she was secretly a
+witch and every night when Ees-tée-ah Muts was asleep she used to fly
+away to the mountains, where the witches held their uncanny meetings.
+You must know that these witches have dreadful appetites, and that
+there is nothing in the world of which they are so fond as boiled
+baby.
+
+Ees-tée-ah Muts, who was a very good man, had no suspicion that his
+wife was guilty of such practices, and she was very careful to keep
+him in ignorance of it.
+
+One day, when the witch-wife was planning to go to a meeting, she
+stole a fat young baby and put it to cook in a great _olla_ (earthen
+jar) in the dark inner room. But before night she found she must go
+for water, and as the strange stone reservoir at Acoma is a laborious
+half-mile from the houses, she would be gone some time. So, as she
+departed with a bright-painted _tinaja_ upon her head, she charged
+her husband on no account to enter the inner room.
+
+When she was gone Ees-tée-ah Muts began to ponder what she had said,
+and he feared that all was not well. He went to the inner room and
+looked around, and when he found the baby cooking he was grieved,
+as any good husband would be, for then he knew that his wife was a
+witch. But when his wife returned with water, he said not a word,
+keeping only a sharp lookout to see what would come.
+
+Very early that night Ees-tée-ah Muts pretended to go to sleep, but
+he was really very wide awake. His wife was quiet, but he could feel
+that she was watching him. Presently a cat came sneaking into the
+room and whispered to the witch-wife:
+
+“Why do you not come to the meeting, for we await you?”
+
+“Wait me yet a little,” she whispered, “until the man is sound
+asleep.”
+
+The cat crept away, and Ees-tée-ah Muts kept very still. By and by
+an owl came in and bade the woman hurry. And at last, thinking her
+husband asleep, the witch-wife rose noiselessly and went out. As
+soon as she was gone, Ees-tée-ah Muts got up and followed her at a
+distance, for it was a night of the full moon.
+
+The witch-wife walked a long way till she came to the foot of the
+Black Mesa, where was a great dark hole with a rainbow in its mouth.
+As she passed under the rainbow she turned herself into a cat and
+disappeared within the cave. Ees-tée-ah Muts crept softly up and
+peered in. He saw a great firelit room full of witches in the shapes
+of ravens and vultures, wolves and other animals of ill omen. They
+were gathered about their feast and were enjoying themselves greatly,
+eating and dancing and singing and planning evil to mankind.
+
+For a long time Ees-tée-ah Muts watched them, but at last one caught
+sight of his face peering in at the hole.
+
+“Bring him in!” shouted the chief witch, and many of them rushed out
+and surrounded him and dragged him into the cave.
+
+“Now,” said the chief witch, who was very angry, “we have caught you
+as a spy and we ought to kill you. But if you will save your life
+and be one of us, go home and bring me the hearts of your mother and
+sister, and I will teach you all our ways, so that you shall be a
+mighty wizard.”
+
+Ees-tée-ah Muts hurried home to Acoma and killed two sheep; for he
+knew, as every Indian knows, that it was useless to try to escape
+from the witches. Taking the hearts of the sheep, he quickly returned
+to the chief witch, to whom he gave them. But when the chief witch
+pricked the hearts with a sharp stick they swelled themselves out
+like a frog. Then he knew that he had been deceived, and was very
+angry, but pretending not to care he ordered Ees-tée-ah Muts to go
+home, which the frightened hunter was very glad to do.
+
+But next morning when Ees-tée-ah Muts awoke he was not in his own
+home at all, but lying on a tiny shelf far up a dizzy cliff. To jump
+was certain death, for it was a thousand feet to the ground; and
+climb he could not, for the smooth rock rose a thousand feet above
+his head. Then he knew that he had been bewitched by the chief of
+those that have the evil road, and that he must die. He could hardly
+move without falling from the narrow shelf, and there he lay with
+bitter thoughts until the sun was high overhead.
+
+At last a young Squirrel came running along the ledge, and, seeing
+him, ran back to its mother, crying:
+
+“_Nana! Nana!_ Here is a dead man lying on our ledge!”
+
+“No, he is not dead,” said the Squirrel-mother when she had looked,
+“but I think he is very hungry. Here, take this acorn-cup and carry
+him some corn-meal and water.”
+
+The young Squirrel brought the acorn-cup full of wet corn-meal, but
+Ees-tée-ah Muts would not take it, for he thought:
+
+“Pah! What is so little when I am fainting for food?”
+
+But the Squirrel-mother, knowing what was in his heart, said:
+
+“Not so, _Sau-kée-ne_ [friend]. It looks to be little, but there will
+be more than enough. Eat and be strong.”
+
+Still doubting, Ees-tée-ah Muts took the cup and ate of the blue
+corn-meal until he could eat no longer, and yet the acorn-cup was not
+empty. Then the young Squirrel took the cup and brought it full of
+water, and though he was very thirsty he could not drain it.
+
+“Now, friend,” said the Squirrel-mother, when he was refreshed by his
+meal, “you cannot yet get down from here, where the witches put you;
+but wait, for I am the one that will help you.”
+
+She went to her store-room and brought out a pine-cone, which she
+dropped over the great cliff. Ees-tée-ah Muts lay on the narrow ledge
+as patiently as he could, sleeping sometimes and sometimes thinking
+of his strange plight. Next morning he could see a stout young
+pine-tree growing at the bottom of the cliff, where he was very sure
+there had been no tree at all the day before. Before night it was a
+large tree, and the second morning it was twice as tall. The young
+Squirrel brought him meal and water in the acorn-cup twice a day, and
+now he began to be confident that he would escape.
+
+By the evening of the fourth day the magic pine towered far above his
+head, and it was so close to the cliff that he could touch it from
+his shelf.
+
+“Now, Friend Man,” said the Squirrel-mother, “follow me!” and she
+leaped lightly into the tree. Ees-tée-ah Muts seized a branch and
+swung over into the tree, and letting himself down from bough to
+bough, at last reached the ground in safety.
+
+The Squirrel-mother came with him to the ground, and he thanked her
+for her kindness.
+
+“But now I must go back to my home,” she said. “Take these seeds
+of the pine-tree and these piñon-nuts which I have brought for you,
+and be very careful of them. When you get home, give your wife the
+pine-seeds, but you must eat the piñons. So now, good-by,” and off
+she went up the tree.
+
+When Ees-tée-ah Muts had come to Acoma and climbed the dizzy stone
+ladder and stood in the adobe town, he was very much surprised.
+For the four days of his absence had really been four years, and
+the people looked strange. All had given him up for dead, and his
+witch-wife had married another man, but still lived in the same
+house, which was hers[97]. When Ees-tée-ah Muts entered she seemed
+very glad to see him, and pretended to know nothing of what had
+befallen him. He said nothing about it, but talked pleasantly while
+he munched the piñon-nuts, giving her the pine-seeds to eat. Her new
+husband made a bed for Ees-tée-ah Muts, and in the morning very early
+the two men went away together on a hunt.
+
+    [97] It is one of the fundamental customs of the Pueblos that
+    the house and its general contents belong to the wife; the
+    fields and other outside property to the husband.
+
+That afternoon the mother of the witch-wife went to visit her
+daughter, but when she came near the house she stopped in terror, for
+far up through the roof grew a great pine-tree, whose furry arms came
+out at doors and windows. That was the end of the witch-wife, for
+the magic seed had sprouted in her stomach, and she was turned into
+a great, sad Pine that swayed above her home, and moaned and sobbed
+forever, as all her Pine-children do to this day.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+THE QUÈRES DIANA
+
+
+THERE is a fragmentary Quères folk-story which bears internal
+evidence that its heroine was the mother of the Hero Twins--that is,
+the Moon. The adventure described here is one of those which befell
+the Moon-Mother, as related in several myths; though it has been
+varied, evidently by some later story-teller, and the identity of the
+heroine does not appear at first sight. It is a story common to all
+the Quères, and is undoubtedly ancient; but as I heard it first in
+Isleta its scene is laid in Laguna, a pueblo only two hundred years
+old.
+
+Once upon a time the Tah-póh-pee[98] of Laguna had a daughter, who
+was the belle of the village. She was very fond of hunting, and
+killed as much game as any of the young men. Several miles south of
+Laguna is a very large sandstone dome rising in the plain, and in the
+heart of this rock the Governor’s daughter had hollowed out a room in
+which she used to camp when on her hunting-expeditions.
+
+    [98] Governor.
+
+One day there came a snow that covered the ground so that one could
+easily track rabbits, and taking her bow and arrows she started off
+to hunt.
+
+She had unusual luck, and by the time she reached the hunting-lodge
+she was loaded down with rabbits. The evening was very cold, and she
+was hungry; so, going into the rock-house, she built a fire on the
+hearth and began to roast a rabbit. Just as it was cooking a strong
+west wind came up and carried the savory smell from her chimney far
+to the east, till it reached a dark cavern in the Sandia Mountains,
+fifty miles away. There lived an old giantess, the terror of all the
+world, and when she caught a whiff of that sweet meat she started up
+and rubbed her big red eye.
+
+“Um!” she cried, “that is good! I am going to see where it is, for I
+have had nothing to eat to-day.”
+
+In two steps she was at the rock-house, and, stooping down, she
+called at the door: “Quáh-tzee? [How are you?] What are you cooking
+in there?”
+
+“Rabbits,” said the girl, dreadfully scared at that great voice.
+
+“Then give me one,” shouted the old giantess. The girl threw one out
+at the door, and the giantess swallowed it at a gulp and demanded
+more. The girl kept throwing them out until all were gone. Then
+the giantess called for her _manta_ (dress), and her shawl and her
+buckskin leggings, and ate them all, and at last said:
+
+“Little girl, now you come out, and let me eat you.”
+
+The girl began to cry bitterly when she saw that great savage eye
+at the door, which was so small that the giantess could not get
+her huge hand in. She repeated her commands thrice, and when the
+girl still refused to come out, picked up a great boulder and began
+to hammer the rock-house to pieces. But just as she had broken off
+the roof and stooped to pick out the girl, two hunters chanced to
+pass and hear the noise. They crept up and shot the giantess through
+the neck with their strong arrows and killed her, and, bringing new
+clothes for the girl, took her home safely to Kó-iks (the native name
+for Laguna), where she lived for many years.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+A PUEBLO BLUEBEARD
+
+
+ANOTHER fragmentary story of the Quères seems to refer to this same
+remarkable woman. You will see the connection when you remember
+that the Moon disappears every month; and I should judge that the
+following myth means that the Storm-King steals her.
+
+Once upon a time a chief of Acoma had a lovely daughter. One day a
+handsome stranger stole her and took her away to his home, which
+was in the heart of the Snow Mountain (Mt. San Mateo). He was none
+other than Mast-Truan, one of the Storm-Gods. Bringing his captive
+home, the powerful stranger gave her the finest clothing and treated
+her very nicely. But most of the time he had to be away from home,
+attending to the storms, and she became very lonesome, for there was
+no one to keep her company but Mast-Truan’s wrinkled old mother.
+
+One day when she could stand the loneliness no longer, she decided to
+take a walk through the enormous house and look at the rooms which
+she had not seen. Opening a door she came into a very large room
+toward the east; and there were a lot of women crying and shivering
+with cold, for they had nothing to wear. Going through this room
+she came to another, which was full of gaunt, starving women, and
+here and there one lay dead upon the floor; and in the next room
+were scores of bleached and ghastly skeletons. And this was what
+Mast-Truan did with his wives when he was tired of them. The girl saw
+her fate, and, returning to her room, sat down and wept--but there
+was no escape, for Mast-Truan’s old hag of a mother forever guarded
+the outer door.
+
+When Mast-Truan came home again, his wife said: “It is now long that
+I have not seen my fathers. Let me go home for a little while.”
+
+“Well,” said he, “here is some corn which must be shelled. When you
+have shelled it and ground it, I will let you out”; and he showed her
+four great rooms piled from floor to ceiling with ears of corn. It
+was more than one could shell in a year; and when her husband went
+out, she sat down again to cry and bemoan her fate.
+
+Just then a queer little old woman appeared before her, with a kindly
+smile. It was a _cumúsh-quio_ (fairy-woman).
+
+“What is the matter, my daughter?” asked the old fairy, gently, “and
+why do you weep?”
+
+The captive told her all, and the fairy said: “Do not fear, daughter,
+for I will help you, and we will have all the corn shelled and ground
+in four days.”
+
+So they fell to work. For two days the girl kept shelling; and though
+she could not see the old fairy at all, she could always hear at her
+side the click of the ears together. Then for two days she kept
+grinding on her _metate_, apparently alone, but hearing the constant
+grind of another _metate_ close beside her. At the end of the fourth
+day the last kernel had been scrubbed into blue meal, and she was
+very happy. Then the old fairy-woman appeared again, bringing a large
+basket and a rope. She opened the doors to all the rooms where the
+poor women were prisoners, and bade them all get into the basket one
+by one. Mast-Truan had taken away the ladder from the house when he
+left, that no one might be able to get out; but with her basket and
+rope the good old fairy-woman let them all down to the ground, and
+told them to hurry home--which they did as fast as ever their poor,
+starved legs could carry them. Then the fairy-woman and the girl
+escaped, and made their way to Acoma. So there was a Moon again--and
+that it _was_ the Moon, we may be very sure; since this same girl
+became the mother of the Hero Twins, who were assuredly Children of
+the Moon.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+THE HERO TWINS
+
+
+THAT the heroes of “The Magic Hide-and-Seek” were really the Pueblo
+Castor and Pollux, the twin offspring of the Sun-Father and the
+Moon-Mother, is more than probable. For some reason which I do not
+know, these demigods do not figure as clearly in the Tée-wahn myths
+as among the other Pueblos, the Navajos and the Apaches; but that
+they are believed in, even in Isleta, there can be no doubt. They
+were the ones who led mankind forth from its first home in the dark
+center of the earth.[99] The rainbow is their bow, the lightnings
+are their arrows. Among the other Pueblos there are countless
+folk-stories about these Hero Twins; and the following example myth
+will quickly remind you of the boys who played hide-and-seek. It
+is told in Isleta, though I have never heard it from the Tée-wahn
+people there. Ever since the great drouth of a generation ago, about
+one hundred and fifty Quères, starved out from the pueblos of Acoma
+and Laguna, have dwelt in Isleta, and they are now a permanent
+part of the Village, recognized by representation in the civil
+and religious government, though speaking an altogether different
+language. Tée-wahn and Quères cannot understand each other in their
+own tongues, so they have to communicate in Spanish.
+
+    [99] They are represented in the sacred dances by the
+    Káh-pee-óo-nin, “the Dying-of-Cold” (because they are always
+    naked except for the breech-clout).
+
+Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee, as the Hero Twins are named in Quères, had
+the Sun for a father. Their mother died when they were born, and lay
+lifeless upon the hot plain. But the two wonderful boys, as soon as
+they were a minute old, were big and strong, and began playing.
+
+There chanced to be in a cliff to the southward a nest of white
+crows; and presently the young crows said: “_Nana_, what is that over
+there? Isn’t it two babies?”
+
+“Yes,” replied the Mother-Crow, when she had taken a look. “Wait and
+I will bring them.” So she brought the boys safely, and then their
+dead mother; and, rubbing a magic herb on the body of the latter,
+soon brought her to life.
+
+By this time Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee were sizable boys, and the
+mother started homeward with them.
+
+“Now,” said she when they reached the edge of the valley and could
+look across to that wondrous rock whereon stands Acoma, “go to yonder
+town, my sons, for that is Ah-ko, where live your grandfather and
+grandmother, my parents; and I will wait here. Go ye in at the west
+end of the town and stand at the south end of the council-grounds
+until some one speaks to you; and ask them to take you to the
+Cacique, for he is your grandfather. You will know his house, for
+the ladder to it has three uprights instead of two. When you go in
+and tell your story, he will ask you a question to see if you are
+really his grandchildren, and will give you four chances to answer
+what he has in a bag in the corner. No one has ever been able to
+guess what is in it, but there are birds.”
+
+The Twins did as they were bidden, and presently came to Acoma and
+found the house of the old Cacique. When they entered and told their
+story, he said: “Now I will try you. What is in yonder bag?”
+
+“A rattlesnake,” said the boys.
+
+“No,” said the Cacique, “it is not a rattlesnake. Try again.”
+
+“Birds,” said the boys.
+
+“Yes, they are birds. Now I know that you are truly my grandchildren,
+for no one else could ever guess.” And he welcomed them gladly, and
+sent them back with new dresses and jewelry to bring their mother.
+
+When she was about to arrive, the Twins ran ahead to the house and
+told her father, mother, and sister to leave the house until she
+should enter; but not knowing what was to come, they would not go
+out. When she had climbed the big ladder to the roof and started down
+through the trap-door by the room-ladder, her sister cried out with
+joy at seeing her, and she was so startled that she fell from the
+ladder and broke her neck, and never could be brought to life again.
+
+Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee grew up to astounding adventures and
+achievements. While still very young in years, they did very
+remarkable things; for they had a miraculously rapid growth, and at
+an age when other boys were toddling about home, these Hero Twins
+had already become very famous hunters and warriors. They were very
+fond of stories of adventure, like less precocious lads; and after
+the death of their mother they kept their grandmother busy telling
+them strange tales. She had a great many anecdotes of a certain
+ogre-giantess who lived in the dark gorges of the mountains to the
+South, and so much did Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee hear of this wonderful
+personage--who was the terror of all that country--that their boyish
+ambition was fired.
+
+One day when their grandmother was busy they stole away from home
+with their bows and arrows, and walked miles and miles, till they
+came to a great forest at the foot of the mountain. In the edge of it
+sat the old Giant-woman, dozing in the sun, with a huge basket beside
+her. She was so enormous and looked so fierce that the boys’ hearts
+stood still, and they would have hidden, but just then she caught
+sight of them, and called: “Come, little boys, and get into this
+basket of mine, and I will take you to my house.”
+
+“Very well,” said Máw-Sahv, bravely hiding his alarm. “If you will
+take us through this big forest, which we would like to see, we will
+go with you.”
+
+The Giant-woman promised, and the lads clambered into her basket,
+which she took upon her back and started off. As she passed through
+the woods, the boys grabbed lumps of pitch from the tall pines and
+smeared it all over her head and back so softly that she did not
+notice it. Once she sat down to rest, and the boys slyly put a lot of
+big stones in the basket, set fire to her pitched hair, and hurriedly
+climbed a tall pine.
+
+Presently the Giant-woman got up and started on toward home; but in
+a minute or two her head and _manta_ were all of a blaze. With a
+howl that shook the earth, she dropped the basket and rolled on the
+ground, grinding her great head into the sand until she at last got
+the fire extinguished. But she was badly scorched and very angry, and
+still angrier when she looked in the basket and found only a lot of
+stones. She retraced her steps until she found the boys hidden in the
+pine-tree, and said to them: “Come down, children, and get into my
+basket, that I may take you to my house, for now we are almost there.”
+
+The boys, knowing that she could easily break down the tree if they
+refused, came down. They got into the basket, and soon she brought
+them to her home in the mountain. She set them down upon the ground
+and said: “Now, boys, go and bring me a lot of wood, that I may make
+a fire in the oven and bake you some sweet cakes.”
+
+The boys gathered a big pile of wood, with which she built a roaring
+fire in the adobe oven outside the house. Then she took them and
+washed them very carefully, and taking them by the necks, thrust them
+into the glowing oven and sealed the door with a great, flat rock,
+and left them there to be roasted.
+
+But the Trues were friends of the Hero Twins, and did not let the
+heat harm them at all. When the old Giant-woman had gone into the
+house, Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee broke the smaller stone that closed
+the smoke-hole of the oven, and crawled out from their fiery prison
+unsinged. They ran around and caught snakes and toads and gathered up
+dirt and dropped them down into the oven through the smoke-hole; and
+then, watching when the Giant-woman’s back was turned, they sneaked
+into the house and hid in a huge _olla_ on the shelf.
+
+Very early in the morning the Giant-woman’s baby began to cry for
+some boy-meat. “Wait till it is well cooked,” said the mother; and
+hushed the child till the sun was well up. Then she went out and
+unsealed the oven, and brought in the sad mess the boys had put
+there. “They have cooked away to almost nothing,” she said; and she
+and the Giant-baby sat down to eat. “Isn’t this nice?” said the baby;
+and Máw-Sahv could not help saying, “You nasty things, to like that!”
+
+“Eh? Who is that?” cried the Giant-woman, looking around till she
+found the boys hidden in the _olla_. So she told them to come down,
+and gave them some sweet cakes, and then sent them out to bring her
+some more wood.
+
+It was evening when they returned with a big load of wood, which
+Máw-Sahv had taken pains to get green. He had also picked up in the
+mountains a long, sharp splinter of quartz.[100] The evening was
+cool, and they built a big fire in the fireplace. But immediately, as
+the boys had planned, the green wood began to smoke at a dreadful
+rate, and soon the room was so dense with it that they all began to
+cough and strangle. The Giant-woman got up and opened the window and
+put her head out for a breath of fresh air; and Máw-Sahv, pulling out
+the white-hot splinter of quartz from the fire, stabbed her in the
+back so that she died. Then they killed the Giant-baby, and at last
+felt that they were safe.
+
+    [100] A thunder-knife.
+
+Now the Giant-woman’s house was a very large one, and ran far back
+into the very heart of the mountain. Having got rid of their enemies,
+the Hero Twins decided to explore the house; and, taking their bows
+and arrows, started boldly down into the deep, dark rooms. After
+traveling a long way in the dark, they came to a huge room in which
+corn and melons and pumpkins were growing abundantly. On and on they
+went, till at last they heard the growl of distant thunder. Following
+the sound, they came presently to a room in the solid rock, wherein
+the lightning was stored. Going in, they took the lightning and
+played with it awhile, throwing it from one to the other, and at last
+started home, carrying their strange toy with them.
+
+When they reached Acoma and told their grandmother of their wonderful
+adventures, she held up her withered old hands in amazement. And
+she was nearly scared to death when they began to play with the
+lightning, throwing it around the house as though it had been a
+harmless ball, while the thunder rumbled till it shook the great rock
+of Acoma. They had the blue lightning which belongs in the West; and
+the yellow lightning of the North; and the red lightning of the
+East; and the white lightning of the South; and with all these they
+played merrily.
+
+But it was not very long till Shée-wo-nah, the Storm-King, had
+occasion to use the lightning; and when he looked in the room
+where he was wont to keep it, and found it gone, his wrath knew no
+bounds. He started out to find who had stolen it; and passing by
+Acoma he heard the thunder as the Hero Twins were playing ball with
+the lightning. He pounded on the door and ordered them to give him
+his lightning, but the boys refused. Then he summoned the storm,
+and it began to rain and blow fearfully outside; while within the
+boys rattled their thunder in loud defiance, regardless of their
+grandmother’s entreaties to give the Storm-King his lightning.
+
+It kept raining violently, however, and the water came pouring down
+the chimney until the room was nearly full, and they were in great
+danger of drowning. But luckily for them, the Trues were still
+mindful of them; and just in the nick of time sent their servant,
+Teé-oh-pee, the Badger, who is the best of diggers, to dig a hole up
+through the floor; all the water ran out, and they were saved. And so
+the Hero Twins outwitted the Storm-King.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+South of Acoma, in the pine-clad gorges and mesas, the world was
+full of Bears. There was one old She-Bear in particular, so huge and
+fierce that all men feared her; and not even the boldest hunter dared
+go to the south--for there she had her home with her two sons.
+
+Máw-sahv and Oó-yah-wee were famous hunters, and always wished to go
+south; but their grandmother always forbade them. One day, however,
+they stole away from the house, and got into the cañon. At last
+they came to the She-Bear’s house; and there was old Quée-ah asleep
+in front of the door. Máw-sahv crept up very carefully and threw in
+her face a lot of ground _chile_,[101] and ran. At that the She-Bear
+began to sneeze, _ah-hútch! ah-hútch!_ She could not stop, and kept
+making _ah-hútch_ until she sneezed herself to death.
+
+    [101] The fiery red-pepper of the Southwest.
+
+Then the Twins took their thunder-knives and skinned her. They
+stuffed the great hide with grass, so that it looked like a Bear
+again, and tied a buckskin rope around its neck.
+
+“Now,” said Máw-sahv, “We will give our grandma a trick!”
+
+So, taking hold of the rope, they ran toward Acoma, and the Bear came
+behind them as if leaping. Their grandmother was going for water; and
+from the top of the cliff she saw them running so in the valley, and
+the Bear jumping behind them. She ran to her house and painted one
+side of her face black with charcoal, and the other side red with the
+blood of an animal;[102] and, taking a bag of ashes, ran down the
+cliff and out at the Bear, to make it leave the boys and come after
+her.
+
+    [102] Ancient tokens of mourning.
+
+But when she saw the trick, she reproved the boys for their
+rashness--but in her heart she was very proud of them.
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+THE HUNGRY GRANDFATHERS
+
+
+A DISOBEDIENT child is something I have never seen among the Pueblos,
+in all the years I have lived with them. The parents are very kind,
+too. My little _amigos_ in Isleta and the other Pueblo towns--for
+they are my friends in all--are never spoiled; but neither are they
+punished much.[103] Personal acquaintance with a spanking is what
+very few of them have. The idea of obedience is inborn and inbred.
+A word is generally enough; and for extreme cases it only needs the
+threat: “Look out, or I will send for the Grandfathers!”
+
+    [103] I must qualify this now. In the last two years I have
+    seen one spoiled child--just one, in ten years’ acquaintance
+    with 9000 Pueblos!
+
+Now, perhaps you do not know who the Grandfathers are; but every
+Pueblo youngster does. It has nothing to do with the “truly” grandpa,
+who is as lovely an institution among the Tée-wahn as anywhere else.
+No, the _Abuelos_ were of an altogether different sort. That name is
+Spanish, and has three applications in Isleta: real grandparents;
+the remarkable masked officials of a certain dance; and the bad Old
+Ones. These last are called in the Tée-wahn tongue _T’ai-kár-nin_
+(Those-Who-Eat-People). They were, in fact, aboriginal Ogres, who
+once sadly ravaged Isleta.
+
+The _T’ai-kár-nin_ had no town, but dwelt in caves of the lava
+mountain a couple of miles west of this village--the _Kú-mai_ hill.
+It is a bad place at best: bleak, black, rough, and forbidding--just
+the place that a properly constituted Ogre would choose for his
+habitation. In the first place, it is to the west of the town,
+which is “bad medicine” in itself to any Indian, for that point
+of the compass belongs to the dead and to bad spirits. Then its
+color is against it; and, still worse, it is to this day the common
+stamping-ground of all the witches in this part of the country,
+where they gather at night for their diabolical caucuses. Of its
+serious disrepute I can convey no better idea to the enlightened and
+superstitionless American mind than by saying that it is a sort of
+aboriginal “haunted house.”
+
+So the hill of _Kú-mai_ was a peculiarly fit place for the Ogres to
+dwell in. Deep in its gloomy bowels they huddled on the white sand
+which floors all the caves there; and crannies overhead carried away
+the smoke from their fires, which curled from crevices at the top of
+the peak far above them. Ignorant Americans would probably have taken
+it for a volcanic emission; but the good people of Shee-eh-whíb-bak
+knew better.
+
+These Ogres were larger than ordinary men, but otherwise carried no
+outward sign of their odious calling. Their teeth were just like
+anybody’s good teeth, and they had neither “tushes” nor horns nor
+hoofs. Indeed, except for their unusual size, they would have been
+easily mistaken for Indians of some distant tribe. But, _ay de mi_!
+How strong they were! One could easily whip five common men in a
+bunch--“men even as strong as my son, Francisco,” says Desiderio; and
+Francisco is as stout as a horse.
+
+They were people of very fastidious palates, these Ogres. Nothing
+was good enough for them except human flesh--and young at that.
+Their fare was entirely baby--baby young, baby brown, and baby very
+fat. They never molested the adults; but as often as they found an
+appetite they descended upon the village, scooped up what children
+they could lay their hands upon, and carried them off to their caves.
+There they had enormous _ollas_, into which half a dozen children
+could be thrown at once.
+
+There seemed to be some spell about these Ogres--besides their
+frequent hungry spells--for the Pueblos, who were so brave in the
+face of other foes, never dared fight these terrible cave-dwellers.
+They continued to devastate the village, until babies were at a
+premium, and few to be had at any price; and the only way the people
+dared to try to circumvent them was by strategy. In time it came
+about that every house where there were children, or a reasonable
+hope of them, had secret cubby-holes back of the thick adobe walls;
+with little doors which shut flush with the wall and were also
+plastered with adobe, so that when they were shut a stranger--even if
+he were a sharp-eyed Indian--would never dream of their existence.
+And whenever arose the dreaded cry, “Here come the _T’ai-kár-nin_!”
+the children were hustled, shivering and noiseless, into the secret
+recesses, and the doors were shut. Then Mr. Ogre could come in
+and peer and sniff about as he liked, but no chance to fill his
+market-basket could he find. And when parents were forced to go away
+and leave the babies behind, the poor young ones were inclosed in
+their safe but gloomy prisons, and there in darkness and silence had
+to await the parental home-coming. These inconveniences were gladly
+borne, however, since they preserved the children--and we all know
+that preserved baby is better than baby-stew. It was, of course,
+rather rough on the Ogres, who began to find all their belts most
+distressfully loose; but no one seemed to consider their feelings.
+They were pretty well starved when the Spaniards came and delivered
+the suffering Isleteños by driving off these savage neighbors. This
+looks suspiciously as if the whole myth of the Ogres had sprung from
+the attacks of the cruel Apaches and Navajos in the old days.
+
+There was one queer thing about these Ogres--on their forages they
+always wore buckskin masks, just like those of the _Abuelos_ of the
+sacred dance. Their bare faces were seen sometimes by hunters who
+encountered them on the _llano_, but never here in town. It was
+in connection with these masks that Isleta had a great sensation
+recently. The Hungry Grandfathers had been almost forgotten, except
+as a word to change the minds of children who had about quarter of a
+mind to be naughty; but interest was revived by a discovery of which
+my venerable friend Desiderio Peralta was the hero.
+
+This dear old man--news of his death has come to me as I write this
+very chapter--was a remarkable character. He was one of “the oldest
+inhabitants” of New Mexico--older than any other Indian among the
+twelve hundred of Isleta, except tottering Diego; and that is saying
+a great deal. His hair was very gray, and his kindly old face such
+an incredible mass of wrinkles that I used to fancy Father Time
+himself must have said: “No, no! You apprentices never do a thing
+right! Here, _this_ is the way to put on wrinkles!” and that he then
+and there took old Desiderio for a model, and showed the journeymen
+wrinkle-makers a trick they never dreamed of. Certainly the job was
+never so well done before. From chin to hair-roots, from ear to
+ear, was such a crowded, tangled, inextricable maze of furrows and
+cross-harrow lines as I firmly believe never dwelt together on any
+other one human face. Why, Desiderio could have furnished an army of
+old men with wrinkles! I never saw him smile without fearing that
+some of those wrinkles were going to fall off the edge, so crowded
+were they at best!
+
+But if his face was _arrugada_, his brain was not. He was bright
+and chipper as a young blackbird, and it was only of late that a
+touch of rheumatism took the youth out of his legs. Until recently
+he held the important position of Captain of War for the pueblo;
+and only two years ago I had the pleasure of going with two hundred
+_other_ Indians on a huge rabbit-hunt which was under his personal
+supervision, and in which he was as active as any one, both on his
+feet and with the unerring boomerang. His eyes were good to find
+about as much through the sights of a rifle as anybody’s; and on the
+whole he was worth a good deal more than I expect to be some seventy
+years from now. He was a good neighbor, too; and I had few pleasanter
+hours than those spent in talking with this genial old shrivel, who
+was _muy sabio_ in all the folk-lore and wisdom of his unfathomable
+race; and very close-mouthed about it, too--as they all are. Still,
+there were some things which he seemed willing to confide to me; and
+he always had an attentive listener.
+
+Desiderio was not yet too old to herd his own cattle during the
+season when they roam abroad; and, while thus engaged, he made a
+discovery which set the whole quiet village agog, though no other
+outsider ever heard of it.
+
+One day in 1889 Desiderio started out from the village, driving
+his cattle. Having steered them across the _acequia_ and up the
+sand-hills to the beginning of the plain, he climbed to the top of
+the _Kú-mai_ to watch them through the day--as has been the custom
+of Isleta herders from time immemorial. In wandering over the rocky
+top of the peak, he came to a ledge of rocks on the southeast spur of
+the hill; and there found a fissure, at one end of which was a hole
+as large as a man’s head. Desiderio put his face and his wrinkles
+down to the hole to see what he could see; and all was dark inside.
+But if his eyes strained in vain, his ears did not. From far down in
+the bowels of the mountain came a strange roaring, as of a heavy
+wind. Desiderio was somewhat dismayed at this; for he knew at once
+that he had found one of the chimneys of the Ogres; but he did not
+run away. Hunting around awhile, he found in the fissures of the
+rocks some ancient buckskin masks--the very ones worn by the Ogres,
+of course. He put them back, and coming to town straightway told the
+medicine-men of the Black Eyes--one of the two parties here. They
+held a _junta_; and after mature deliberation decided to go and get
+the masks. This was done, and the masks are now treasured in the
+Black Eye medicine-house.
+
+I have several times carefully explored the _Kú-mai_--a difficult and
+tiresome task, thanks to the knife-like lava fragments which cover it
+everywhere, and which will cut a pair of new strong shoes to pieces
+in an afternoon. It is true that in this hill of bad repute there
+are several lava-caves, with floors of white sand blown in from the
+_llano_; and that in these caves there are a few human bones. No
+doubt some of the savage nomads camped or lived there. None of those
+famous _ollas_ are visible; nor have I ever been able to find any
+other relics of the Hungry Grandfathers.
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: THE COYOTE.]
+
+XXXI
+
+THE COYOTE
+
+
+ALL the animals with which the Tée-wahn are familiar--the buffalo
+(which they used to hunt on the vast plains to the eastward), the
+bear, deer, antelope, mountain lion, badger, wild turkey, fox,
+eagle, crow, buzzard, rabbit, and so on--appear in their legends and
+fairy tales, as well as in their religious ceremonials and beliefs.
+Too-wháy-deh, the Coyote,[104] or little prairie wolf, figures in
+countless stories, and always to his own disadvantage. Smart as he
+is in some things, he believes whatever is told him; and by his
+credulity becomes the butt of all the other animals, who never tire
+of “April-fooling” him. He is also a great coward. To call an Indian
+here “_Too-wháy-deh_” is one of the bitterest insults that can be
+offered him.
+
+    [104] Pronounced Coy-óh-ty.
+
+You have already heard how the Coyote fared at the hands of the
+fun-loving Bear, and of the Crows and the Blackbirds. A very popular
+tale is that of his adventure with a bright cousin of his.
+
+Once upon a time Too-wháy-shur-wée-deh, the Little-Blue-Fox,[105] was
+wandering near a pueblo, and chanced to come to the threshing-floors,
+where a great many crows were hopping. Just then the Coyote passed,
+very hungry; and while yet far off, said: “Ai! how the stomach cries!
+I will just eat Little-Blue-Fox.” And coming, he said:
+
+    [105] He is always a hero, and as smart as the Coyote is
+    stupid. His beautiful pelt is an important part of the costume
+    worn in many of the sacred dances of the Tée-wahn.
+
+“Now, Little-Blue-Fox, you have troubled me enough! You are the cause
+of my being chased by the dogs and people, and now I will pay you. I
+am going to eat you up this very now!”
+
+“No, Coyote-friend,” answered the Little-Blue-Fox, “_don’t_ eat me
+up! I am here guarding these chickens, for there is a wedding in
+yonder house, which is my master’s, and these chickens are for the
+wedding-dinner. Soon they will come for the chickens, and will invite
+me to the dinner--and you can come also.”
+
+“Well,” said the Coyote, “if _that_ is so, I will not eat you, but
+will help you watch the chickens.” So he lay down beside him.
+
+At this, Little-Blue-Fox was troubled, thinking how to get away; and
+at last he said:
+
+“Friend Too-wháy-deh, I make strange that they have not before now
+come for the chickens. Perhaps they have forgotten. The best way is
+for me to go to the house and see what the servants are doing.”
+
+“It is well,” said the Coyote. “Go, then, and I will guard the
+chickens for you.”
+
+So the Little-Blue-Fox started toward the house; but getting behind
+a small hill, he ran away with fast feet. When it was a good while,
+and he did not come back, the Coyote thought: “While he is gone, I
+will give myself some of the chickens.” Crawling up on his belly to
+the threshing-floor, he gave a great leap. But the chickens were
+only crows, and they flew away. Then he began to say evil of the
+Little-Blue-Fox for giving him a trick, and started on the trail,
+vowing: “I will eat him up wherever I catch him.”
+
+After many miles he overtook the Little-Blue-Fox, and with a bad face
+said: “Here! Now I am going to eat you up!”
+
+The other made as if greatly excited, and answered: “No, friend
+Coyote! Do you not hear that _tombé_[106]?”
+
+    [106] Pronounced tom-báy. The sacred drum used in Pueblo dances.
+
+The Coyote listened, and heard a drum in the pueblo.
+
+“Well,” said the Little-Blue-Fox, “I am called for that dance,[107]
+and very soon they will come for me. Won’t you go too?”
+
+    [107] In all such Indian dances the participants are named by
+    the officials.
+
+“If that is so, I will not eat you, but we will go to the dance.” And
+the Coyote sat down and began to comb his hair and to make himself
+pretty with face-paint. When no one came, the Little-Blue-Fox said:
+
+  [Illustration: “THERE THEY STOOD SIDE BY SIDE.”]
+
+“Friend Coyote, I make strange that the _alguazil_ does not come.
+It is best for me to go up on this hill, whence I can see into the
+village. You wait here.”
+
+“He will not dare to give me another trick,” thought the Coyote. So
+he replied: “It is well. But do not forget to call me.”
+
+So the Little-Blue-Fox went up the hill; and as soon as he was out of
+sight, he began to run for his life.
+
+Very long the Coyote waited; and at last, being tired, went up on the
+hill--but there was no one there. Then he was very angry, and said:
+“I will follow him, and eat him surely! _Nothing_ shall save him!”
+And finding the trail, he began to follow as fast as a bird.
+
+Just as the Little-Blue-Fox came to some high cliffs, he looked
+back and saw the Coyote coming over a hill. So he stood up on his
+hind feet and put his fore paws up against the cliff, and made many
+groans, and was as if much excited. In a moment came the Coyote, very
+angry, crying: “Now you shall not escape me! I am going to eat you up
+now--now!”
+
+“Oh, no, friend Too-wháy-deh!” said the other; “for I saw this cliff
+falling down, and ran to hold it up. If I let go, it will fall and
+kill us both. But come, help me to hold it.”
+
+Then the Coyote stood up and pushed against the cliff with his fore
+paws, very hard; and there they stood side by side.
+
+Time passing so, the Little-Blue-Fox said:
+
+“Friend Too-wháy-deh, it is long that I am holding up the cliff,
+and I am very tired and thirsty. You are fresher. So you hold up
+the cliff while I go and hunt water for us both; for soon you too
+will be thirsty. There is a lake somewhere on the other side of this
+mountain; I will find it and get a drink, and then come back and hold
+up the cliff while you go.”
+
+The Coyote agreed, and the Little-Blue-Fox ran away over the mountain
+till he came to the lake, just as the moon was rising.
+
+But soon the Coyote was very tired and thirsty, for he held up the
+cliff with all his might. At last he said: “Ai! how hard it is! I am
+so thirsty that I will go to the lake, even if I die!”
+
+So he began to let go of the cliff, slowly, slowly--until he held
+it only with his finger-nails; and then he made a great jump away
+backward, and ran as hard as he could to a hill. But when he looked
+around and saw that the cliff did not fall, he was very angry, and
+swore to eat Too-wháy-shur-wée-deh the very minute he should catch
+him.
+
+Running on the trail, he came to the lake; and there the
+Little-Blue-Fox was lying on the bank, whining as if greatly excited.
+“Now I _will_ eat you up, this minute!” cried the Coyote. But the
+other said: “No, Friend Too-wháy-deh! Don’t eat _me_ up! I am waiting
+for some one who can swim as well as you can. I just bought a big
+cheese[108] from a shepherd to share with you; but when I went to
+drink, it slipped out of my hands into the water. Come here, and I
+will show you.” He took the Coyote to the edge of the high bank, and
+pointed to the moon in the water.
+
+    [108] Of course chickens and cheeses were not known to the
+    Pueblos before the Spanish conquest; and the cheese is so
+    vital a part of the story that I hardly think it can be an
+    interpolation. So this tale, though very old, is probably not
+    ancient--that is, it has been invented since 1600.
+
+  [Illustration: “‘HOW SHALL I GET IT?’ SAID THE COYOTE.”]
+
+“M--m!” said the Coyote, who was fainting with hunger. “But how shall
+I get it? It is very deep in the water, and I shall float up before I
+can dive to it.”
+
+“That is true, friend,” said the other. “There is but one way. We
+must tie some stones to your neck, to make you heavy so you can go
+down to it.”
+
+So they hunted about until they found a buckskin thong and some large
+stones; and the Little-Blue-Fox tied the stones to the Coyote’s neck,
+the Coyote holding his chin up, to help.
+
+“Now, friend Too-wháy-deh, come here to the edge of the bank and
+stand ready. I will take you by the back and count _weem_, _wée-si_,
+_p’áh-chu_! And when I say _three_, you must jump and I will
+push--for now you are very heavy.”
+
+So he took the Coyote by the back of the neck, swaying him back and
+forth as he counted. And at “_p’áh-chu!_” he pushed hard, and the
+Coyote jumped, and went into the deep water, and--never came out
+again!
+
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+DOCTOR FIELD-MOUSE
+
+
+IT was the evening of the 14th of March. In the valley of the Rio
+Grande, that stands at the end of the winter. Now it is to open the
+big mother-canal that comes from the river to all the fields, giving
+them to drink after their long thirst; and now to plow the _milpas_,
+and to uncover the buried grape-vines, and make ready for the
+farmer’s work.
+
+As the door opened to admit stalwart Francisco to the big flickering
+room where we were all sitting in silence, the long, shrill wail
+of a Coyote, away up on the Accursed Hill, blew in after him on
+the boisterous March wind. The boys pricked up their ears; and
+bright-faced Manuelito[109] turned to his white-headed grandfather,
+and said:
+
+    [109] Pronounced Mahn-way-lée-to.
+
+“_Tata_, why is it that Too-wháy-deh always howls so? Perhaps he
+has a pain; for he has been crying ever since the beginning of the
+world--as they told us in the story of the Fawns and the She-Wolf.”
+
+“What, Unknowing!” answered the old man, kindly. “Hast thou never
+heard of the Coyote’s toothache, and who was the first medicine-man
+in all the world? It is not well not to know that; for from that
+comes all that we know to cure the sick. And for that, I will
+tell--but it is the last story of the year. For to-morrow is
+_Tu-shée-wim_, the Spring Medicine-Dance; and the snakes are coming
+out from their winter houses. After that, we must not tell of the
+Things of Old. For it is very long ago; and if one made a mistake in
+telling, and said that which was not all true, _Ch’áh-rah-ráh-deh_
+would bite him, and he would die.[110] But this one I will tell thee.”
+
+    [110] A fixed belief among the Pueblos, who will tell none of
+    their myths between the Spring Medicine-Making, in March, and
+    the Fall Medicine-Making, in October, lest the rattlesnake
+    punish them for some slip from the truth.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the First Days, when the people had broken through the crust of
+the earth, and had come up out of their dark prison, underground, and
+crossed Shee-p’ah-póon, the great Black Lake of Tears, they came to
+the shore on this side. Then it came that all the animals were made;
+and very soon the Coyote was sent by the Trues to carry a buckskin
+bag far south, and not to open it until he should come to the Peak
+of the White Clouds. For many days he ran south, with the bag on his
+back. But there was nothing to eat, and he grew very hungry. At last
+he thought: “Perhaps in this bag there is to eat.” So he took it from
+his back, and untied the thongs, and looked in. But there was nothing
+in it except the stars; and as soon as the bag was opened they all
+flew up into the sky, where they are to this day.
+
+When the Trues saw that Too-wháy-deh had disobeyed, they were angry,
+and made it that his punishment should be to wander up and down
+forever, howling with the toothache and finding no rest.
+
+So Too-wháy-deh went out with his toothache, running all over the
+world groaning and crying; and when the other four-feet slept he
+could only sit and howl. Because he came to talk with the other
+animals, if they could not cure him, they caught the toothache too;
+and that is the reason why they sometimes cry. But none have it like
+the Coyote, who can find no rest.
+
+In those times there were no medicine-men in the world,--not even of
+the people,--and the animals found no cure.
+
+Time passing so, it came one day that T’hoo-chée-deh, the smallest of
+Mice, who lives in the little mounds around the chapparo-bush, was
+making his road underground, when he came to a kind of root with a
+sweet smell. T’hoo-chée-deh was very wise; and he took the root, and
+put it with others in a buckskin pouch he carried under his left arm.
+
+In a few days Kee-oo-ée-deh, the Prairie-Dog, came with his head all
+fat with toothache, and said:
+
+“Friend Field-Mouse, can you not cure me of this pain? For all say
+you are very wise with herbs.”
+
+“I do not know,” answered T’hoo-chée-deh. “But we will try. For I
+have found a new root, and perhaps it is good.”
+
+So he mixed it with other roots, all pounded, and put it on the cheek
+of Kee-oo-ée-deh; and in a little, the toothache was gone.
+
+In that time it was that there was so much toothache among the
+animals that the Mountain Lion, Commander of Beasts, called a council
+to see what should be done. When every kind that walks on the ground
+had met, he asked each of them if they had found no cure; but none of
+them knew any. The Coyote was there, howling with pain; but all the
+other sick were at home.
+
+At last it was to the Field-Mouse, who is the smallest of
+all animals, and who did not wish to seem wise until all the
+greater ones had spoken. When the Mountain Lion said, “And thou,
+T’hoo-chée-deh--hast thou a cure?” he rose in his place and came
+forward modestly, saying: “If the others will allow me, and with the
+help of the Trues, I will try what I found last.”
+
+Then he drew from his left-hand bag the roots one by one; and last
+of all, the root of the _chee-ma-hár_, explaining what it had done
+for Kee-oo-ée-deh. He pounded it to powder with a stone, and mixed
+it with fat; and spreading it on flat leaves, put it to the Coyote’s
+jaw. And in a little the pain was gone.[111]
+
+    [111] This cure is still practised among the Tée-wahn. The
+    sovereign remedy for toothache, however, is to go to the
+    _estufa_ after dark, carrying food in the left hand, march
+    round inside the big circular room three times, leave the food
+    under the secret recess in the wall where the scalps taken in
+    old wars are kept, and then come out. The toothache is always
+    left behind!
+
+At that the Mountain Lion, the Bear, the Buffalo, and all
+the other Captains of Four-feet, declared T’hoo-chée-deh the
+Father-of-All-Medicine. They made a strong law that from that time
+the body of the Field-Mouse should be held sacred, so that no animal
+dares to kill him or even to touch him dead. And so it remains to
+this day. But only the birds and the snakes, who were not at the
+Council of the Four feet, they do not respect T’hoo-chée-deh.
+
+So the Field-Mouse was the first medicine-man. He chose one of each
+kind of four-feet to be his assistants, and taught them the use of
+all herbs, and how to cure pain, so that each might practise among
+his own people--a Bear-doctor for the Bears, and a Wolf-doctor for
+the Wolves, and so to all the tribes of the animals.
+
+Of those he taught, there was one who was not a True Believer--the
+Badger. But he listened also, and made as if he believed all.
+With time, the teaching was done; and T’hoo-chée-deh sent all his
+assistant doctors home to their own peoples to heal. But whenever one
+of them was asked with the sacred corn-meal[112] to come and cure a
+sick one, he always came first to get the Father, the Field-Mouse, to
+accompany and help him.
+
+    [112] The necessary accompaniment, among the Pueblos, of a call
+    for the doctor. In some cases, the sacred smoking-herb was
+    used. Either article was wrapped in corn-husk. See, also, “Some
+    Strange Corners of Our Country,” chapters xviii and xx.
+
+But all this time Kahr-naí-deh, the Badger, was not believing; and at
+last he said to his wife:
+
+“Now I will _see_ if Old T’hoo-chée-deh is really a medicine-man. If
+he finds me, I will believe him.”
+
+So from that day for four days the Badger touched no food, until he
+was almost dead. And on the fifth day he said:
+
+“_In-hlee-oo wáy-ee_, wife of me, go now and call T’hoo-chée-deh, to
+see if he will cure me.”
+
+So the Badger-wife went with meal to the house of the Field-Mouse,
+making to be very sad; and brought him back with her. When they came,
+the Badger was as if very sick and in great pain.
+
+T’hoo-chée-deh asked nothing; but took off the little pouch of roots
+and laid it beside him. And then rubbing a little wood-ashes on his
+hands, he put them on the stomach and breast of the Badger, rubbing
+and feeling. When he had felt the Badger’s stomach, he began to sing:
+
+    _Káhr-nah-hlóo-hlee wee-end-t’hú
+    Beh-hú hoo-báhn,
+    Ah-náh káh-chah-him-aí
+    T’hóo-chée-hlóo-hlee t’oh-ah-yin-áhb
+    Wee-end-t’hú beh-hú hoo-báhn._
+
+    (Badger-Old-Man four days
+    Has the hunger-killing,
+    To know, to know surely
+    If Field-Mouse-Old-Man
+    Has the Medicine Power.
+    Four days, four days,
+    He has the hunger-killing.)
+
+When he had finished rubbing and singing, he said to the Badger:
+
+“There is no need of a remedy. In my teaching I found you
+attentive--now be true. You have wasted, in trying my power. Now get
+up and eat, to make up for the lost. And do not think that way again.”
+
+With that, he took his pouch of roots and went home. As soon as he
+was out of the house, the Badger said to his wife:
+
+“My wife, now I believe that Mouse-Old-Man _has_ the Power; and never
+again will I think _that_ way.”
+
+Then the Badger-wife brought food, and he ate--for he was dying of
+hunger. When he had eaten, the animals came in to see him, for they
+had heard that he was very sick. He told them all that had been, and
+how T’hoo-chée-deh had known his trick. At that, all the animals were
+afraid of the Field-Mouse, and respected him more than ever--for it
+was plain that he indeed had the Power.
+
+Time passing so, it came that one day the Men of the Old made
+_nah-kú-ah-shu_, the great round-hunt. When they had made a great
+circle on the _llano_, and killed many rabbits, some of them found
+T’hoo-chée-deh, and made him prisoner. They brought him before the
+_principales_, who questioned him, saying:
+
+“How do you gain your life?”
+
+“I gain it,” he answered, “by going about among the animals who are
+sick, and curing them.”
+
+Then the elders said: “If that is so, teach us your Power, and we
+will set you free; but if not, you shall die.”
+
+T’hoo-chée-deh agreed, and they brought him to town with honor.
+For twelve days and twelve nights he and the men stayed shut up
+in the _estufa_, for two days fasting, and one day making the
+medicine-dance, and then fasting and then dancing again, as our
+medicine-men do to this day.
+
+On the last night, when he had taught the men all the herbs and
+how to use them, and they had become wise with practice, they sent
+T’hoo-chée-deh out with a strong guard, that nothing should harm him.
+They set him down at the door of his own house under the chapparo.
+A law was made, giving him full liberty of all that is grown in the
+fields. To this day, all True Believers honor him, so that he is not
+called small any more. When they sing of him in the sacred places,
+they make his house great, calling it _koor-óo-hlee naht-hóo_, the
+Mountain of the Chapparo. And him they call not T’hoo-chée-deh, the
+Field-Mouse, but _Pee-íd-deh p’ah-hláh-queer_, the Deer-by-the-River,
+that he may not seem of little honor.[113] For he was the Father of
+Medicine, and taught us how to cure the sick.
+
+    [113] This is not an exception. Nearly all the animals known to
+    the Tée-wahn have not only their common name, but a ceremonial
+    and sacred one, which is used exclusively in the songs and
+    rites.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“_Tahb-kóon-ahm?_” cried the boys. “Is _that_ why the Coyote always
+cries? And is that why we must never hurt the Field-Mouse, but show
+him respect, as to elders?”
+
+“That is the very why,” said Manuelito’s grandfather, gravely; and
+all the old men nodded.
+
+“And why--” began ’Tonio. But his father shook his head.
+
+“_Tah!_ It is enough. _Tóo-kwai!_”
+
+So we stepped out into the night to our homes. And from the _Kú-mai_,
+black against the starry sky, the howl of Too-wháy-deh, wandering
+with his toothache, swelled across the sleeping village of the
+Tée-wahn.
+
+  [Illustration: Is that so?
+
+      Yes; that is so.
+
+      The End]
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Note
+
+All inconsistencies in hyphenation and accent use are preserved as
+printed.
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.
+
+The following typographic errors have been fixed:
+
+    Page 79--stanger amended to stranger--Then a young woman who
+    was a stranger ...
+
+    Page 126--seen amended to see--After this, whenever you see an
+    Eagle ...
+
+The frontispiece has been moved to follow the title page. Other
+illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not
+in the middle of a paragraph.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77804 ***
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+      The Man Who Married The Moon And Other Pueblo Indian Folk-stories, by Charles F. Lummis | Project Gutenberg
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77804 ***</div>
+
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 35em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Front cover of the book">
+</figure>
+
+
+
+<div class="titlep">
+<h1>THE MAN WHO MARRIED
+THE MOON<br>
+<br>
+<span class="xsmlfont">AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES</span></h1>
+
+<p class="tpcenter"><span class="smlfont">BY</span><br>
+<br>
+<span class="vlrgfont">CHARLES F. LUMMIS</span><br>
+<br>
+<span class="smlfont"><i>AUTHOR OF “SOME STRANGE CORNERS OF OUR COUNTRY”<br>
+“A NEW MEXICO DAVID,” ETC.</i></span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp74" id="mwmm01" style="max-width: 8.9375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm01.jpg" alt="Publisher's device">
+</figure>
+
+<p class="tpcenter"><span class="smlfont">NEW YORK</span><br>
+<span class="lrgfont">THE CENTURY CO.</span><br>
+1894</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="fmatter">
+<p class="center smlfont">Copyright, 1891, 1892, 1894,<br>
+By <span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center smlfont smcap padtoplrg">The De Vinne Press.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<figure class="figcenter illowp58" id="mwmm02" style="max-width: 38.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm02.jpg" id="fig01" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE BOY IN THE HOUSE OF THE TRUES. (SEE PAGE <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.)</figcaption>
+</figure>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="dedication">To<br>
+the Fairy Tale that came true in<br>
+the Home of the Tée-wahn<br>
+My Wife and Child</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>vii]</span>
+<h2 id="contents">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2">Introduction: The Brown Story-Tellers</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#introduction">1</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">I</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Antelope Boy</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap01">12</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">II</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote and the Crows</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap02">22</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">III</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The War-Dance of the Mice</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap03">24</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">IV</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote and the Blackbirds</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap04">27</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">V</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote and the Bear</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap05">30</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The First of the Rattlesnakes</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap06">34</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote and the Woodpecker</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap07">49</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VIII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Man who Married the Moon</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap08">53</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">IX</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Mother Moon</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap09">71</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">X</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Maker of the Thunder-Knives</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap10">74</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Stone-Moving Song</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap11">82</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote and the Thunder-Knife</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap12">84</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XIII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Magic Hide-and-Seek</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap13">87</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XIV</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Race of the Tails</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap14">99</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XV</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Honest Big-Ears</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap15">103</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XVI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Feathered Barbers</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap16">106</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XVII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Accursed Lake</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap17">108</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XVIII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Moqui Boy and the Eagle</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap18">122</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XIX</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The North Wind and the South Wind</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap19">127</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XX</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Town of the Snake-Girls</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap20">130</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Drowning of Pecos</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap21">137</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_viii"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>viii]</span>XXII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Ants that Pushed on the Sky</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap22">147</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXIII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Man who Wouldn’t Keep Sunday</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap23">161</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXIV</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Brave Bobtails</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap24">169</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXV</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Revenge of the Fawns</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap25">178</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXVI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Sobbing Pine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap26">194</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXVII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Quères Diana</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap27">200</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXVIII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">A Pueblo Bluebeard</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap28">203</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXIX</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Hero Twins</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap29">206</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXX</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Hungry Grandfathers</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap30">215</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXXI</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Coyote</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap31">222</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XXXII</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Doctor Field-Mouse</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#chap32">232</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ix"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>ix]</span></p>
+<h2 id="illustrations">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Boy in the House of the Trues</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><span class="allsmcap"><a href="#fig01">FRONTISPIECE</a></span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“As I come in, kindly old Tata Lorenso is just beginning a Story”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig02">7</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Coyote carries the Baby to the Antelope Mother</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig03">15</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">Rain falls on Pée-k’hoo</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig04">18</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“The two Runners came sweeping down the Home-stretch, straining every Nerve”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig05">20</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“As He caught the Hoop He was instantly changed into a poor Coyote!”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig06">37</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“Coyote, are you People?”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig07">41</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“As He seized it He was changed from a tall young Man into a great Rattlesnake”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig08">45</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Coyotes at Supper with the Woodpeckers</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig09">50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Isleta Girls grinding Corn with the “Mano” on the “Metate”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig10">56</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Moon-Maiden</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig11">57</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Yellow-Corn-Maidens throwing Meal at the pearl “Omate”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig12">59</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Grief of Nah-chu-rú-chu</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig13">65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“The Witch made Herself very small, and went behind the Foot of a big Crane”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig14">95</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_x"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>x]</span>The Hunter and the Lake-man</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig15">111</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Cursing of the Lake</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig16">119</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">South, East, North, and West in Search of Kahp-too-óo-yoo</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig17">153</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">Kahp-too-óo-yoo calling the Rain</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig18">158</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Wolf, and the Coyote with the Toothache</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig19">183</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">The Wolf meets the Boys Playing with their Bows and Arrows</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig20">187</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“The Fawns appeared suddenly, and at sight of Them the Wolf dropped the Spoonful of Soup”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig21">191</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“There They Stood Side by Side”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig22">225</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsh">“‘How Shall I Get It?’ said the Coyote”</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fig23">229</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center padtop smlfont">These illustrations are from drawings by George Wharton Edwards,
+after photographs by the author.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="reptitle">TÉE-WAHN FOLK-STORIES</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>1]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm03" style="max-width: 40em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm03.jpg" alt="Decorative title: Tée-wahn Folk-stories">
+</figure>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="introduction">THE BROWN STORY-TELLERS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapi01.jpg" width="160" height="330" alt="I">
+</div>
+<p> FANCY that if almost any of us were
+asked, “When did people begin to make
+fairy stories?” our first thought would
+be, “Why, of course, after mankind had
+become civilized, and had invented writing.”
+But in truth the making of myths,
+which is no more than a dignified name
+for “fairy stories,” dates back to the
+childhood of the human race.</p>
+
+<p>Long before Cadmus invented letters
+(and I fear Cadmus himself was as much of a myth
+as was his dragon’s-teeth harvest), long before there
+were true historians or poets, there were fairy stories
+and story-tellers. And to-day, if we would seek the
+place where fairy stories most flourish, we must go,
+not to the nations whose countless educated minds
+are now devoted to story-telling for the young, but
+to peoples who have no books, no magazines, no
+alphabets—even no pictures.</p>
+
+<p>Of all the aboriginal peoples that remain in North
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>2]</span>
+America, none is richer in folk-lore than the Pueblo
+Indians of New Mexico, who are, I believe, next to
+the largest of the native tribes left in the United
+States. They number nine thousand souls. They
+have nineteen “cities” (called pueblos, also) in this
+Territory, and seven in Arizona; and each has its
+little outlying colonies. They are not cities in size, it
+is true, for the largest (Zuñi) has only fifteen hundred
+people, and the smallest only about one hundred;
+but cities they are, nevertheless. And each city,
+with its fields, is a wee republic—twenty-six of the
+smallest, and perhaps the oldest, republics in the
+world; for they were already such when the first
+European eyes saw America. Each has its governor,
+its congress, its sheriffs, war-captains, and
+other officials who are elected annually; its laws,
+unwritten but unalterable, which are more respected
+and better enforced than the laws of any American
+community; its permanent and very comfortable
+houses, and its broad fields, confirmed first by Spain
+and later by patents of the United States.</p>
+
+<p>The architecture of the Pueblo houses is quaint
+and characteristic. In the remote pueblos they are
+as many as six stories in height—built somewhat
+in the shape of an enormous terraced pyramid. The
+Pueblos along the Rio Grande, however, have felt
+the influence of Mexican customs, and their houses
+have but one and two stories. All their buildings,
+including the huge, quaint church which each pueblo
+has, are made of stone plastered with adobe mud,
+or of great, sun-dried bricks of adobe. They are
+the most comfortable dwellings in the Southwest—cool
+in summer and warm in winter.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>3]</span>
+The Pueblos are divided into six tribes, each
+speaking a distinct language of its own. Isleta,
+the quaint village where I lived five years, in an
+Indian house, with Indian neighbors, and under
+Indian laws, is the southernmost of the pueblos,
+the next largest of them all, and the chief city of
+the Tée-wahn tribe.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> All the languages of the Pueblo
+tribes are exceedingly difficult to learn.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the cities now inhabited, the ruins of
+about fifteen hundred other pueblos—and some of
+them the noblest ruins in the country—dot the
+brown valleys and rocky mesa-tops of New Mexico.
+All these ruins are of stone, and are extremely interesting.
+The implacable savages by whom they
+were hemmed in made necessary the abandonment
+of hundreds of pueblos; and this great number of
+ruins does not indicate a vast ancient population.
+The Pueblos <em>never</em> counted above 30,000 souls.</p>
+
+<p>The Pueblo Indians have for nearly two centuries
+given no trouble to the European sharers of their
+domain; but their wars of defense against the savage
+tribes who surrounded them completely—with the
+Apaches, Navajos, Comanches, and Utes—lasted
+until a very few years ago. They are valiant
+fighters for their homes, but prefer any honorable
+peace. They are not indolent, but industrious—tilling
+their farms, tending their stock, and keeping
+all their affairs in order. The women own the
+houses and their contents, and do not work outside;
+and the men control the fields and crops. An
+unhappy home is almost an unknown thing among
+them; and the universal affection of parents for
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>4]</span>
+children and respect of children for parents are extraordinary.
+I have never seen a child unkindly
+treated, a parent saucily addressed, or a playmate
+abused, in all my long and intimate acquaintance
+with the Pueblos.</p>
+
+<p>Isleta lies on the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad,
+upon the western bank of the Rio Grande, on a lava
+promontory which was once an island—whence the
+town takes its Spanish name. Its Tée-wahn title is
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Its population, according to
+the census taken in 1891, is a little less than twelve
+hundred. It is nearly surrounded by fertile vineyards,
+orchards of peaches, apricots, apples, cherries,
+plums, pears, and quinces, and fields of corn, wheat,
+beans, and peppers, all owned by my dusky neighbors.
+The pueblo owns over one hundred and ten
+thousand acres of land, the greater part of which is
+reserved for pasturing horses and cattle.</p>
+
+<p>The people of Isleta are, as a rule, rather short
+in stature, but strongly built. All have a magnificent
+depth and breadth of chest, and a beautifully
+confident poise of the head. Most of the men are
+very expert hunters, tireless runners, and fine horsemen.
+Besides ordinary hunting they have communal
+hunts—for rabbits in the spring, for antelope
+and deer in the fall—thoroughly organized, in
+which great quantities of game are killed.</p>
+
+<p>Their amusements are many and varied. Aside
+from the numerous sacred dances of the year, their
+most important occasions, they have various races
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>5]</span>
+which call for great skill and endurance, quaint
+social enjoyments, and games of many kinds, some
+of which are quite as difficult as chess. They are
+very fair weavers and pottery-makers. The women
+are good housewives, and most of them excellent
+seamstresses.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, with all this progress in civilization, despite
+their mental and physical acuteness and their excellent
+moral qualities, the Tée-wahn are in some
+things but overgrown children. Their secret inner
+religion<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> is one of the most complicated systems
+on earth. Besides the highest deities, all
+the forces of nature, all animals, as well as many
+things that are inanimate, are invested by them
+with supernatural powers. They do not worship
+idols, but images and tokens of unseen powers are
+revered. They do nothing without some reason,
+generally a religious one, and whatever they observe
+they can explain in their own superstitious
+way. Every custom they have and every belief
+they own has a reason which to them is all-sufficient;
+and for each they have a story. There is no
+duty to which a Pueblo child is trained in which he
+has to be content with the bare command, “Do
+thus”; for each he learns a fairy tale designed to
+explain how people first came to know that it was
+right to do thus, and detailing the sad results which
+befell those who did otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>It is from this wonderful folk-lore of the Tée-wahn
+that I have learned—after long study of the
+people, their language, customs, and myths—and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>6]</span>
+taken, unchanged and unembellished, this series of
+Indian fairy tales. I have been extremely careful
+to preserve, in my translations, the exact Indian
+<em>spirit</em>. An absolutely literal translation would be
+almost unintelligible to English readers, but I have
+taken no liberties with the real meaning.</p>
+
+<p>The use of books is not only to tell, but to preserve;
+not only for to-day, but for ever. What an
+Indian wishes to perpetuate must be saved by
+tongue and ear, by “telling-down,” as were the
+world’s first histories and poems. This oral transmission
+from father to son is of sacred importance
+with the natives. Upon it depends the preservation
+of the amusements, the history, the beliefs, the customs,
+and the laws of their nation. A people less
+observant, less accurate of speech and of memory,
+would make a sad failure of this sort of record; but
+with them it is a wonderful success. The story
+goes down from generation to generation, almost
+without the change of a word. The fact that it is
+told in fixed metrical form—a sort of blank verse—helps
+the memory.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm04" style="max-width: 50em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm04.jpg" id="fig02" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“AS I COME IN, KINDLY OLD TATA LORENSO IS JUST BEGINNING A STORY.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Here in Isleta, the quaint pueblo of the Tée-wahn,
+I became deeply interested not only in the
+folk-stories themselves, but also in the manner of
+handing them down. Winter is the season for
+story-telling. Then the thirsty fields no longer cry
+for water, the irrigating-ditches have ceased to
+gnaw at their banks, and the men are often at
+leisure. Then, of an evening, if I go over to visit
+some <i>vecino</i> (neighbor), I am likely to find, in the
+great adobe living-room, a group of very old men
+and very young boys gathered about the queer little
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>9]</span>
+corner fireplace with its blazing upright sticks.
+They, too, have come a-visiting. The young men
+are gathered in another corner by themselves, eating
+roasted corn, and talking in whispers so as not
+to disturb their elders, for respect to age is the
+corner-stone of all Indian training. They are not
+required to listen to the stories, being supposed to
+know them already.</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">If in the far, sweet days when I stood at my
+grandmother’s knee, and shivered over “Bluebeard,”
+or thrilled at “Jack the Giant-killer,” some
+one could have shown us a picture of me as I was
+to be listening to other fairy tales twenty-five years
+later, I am sure that her eyes would have opened
+wide as mine. Certainly neither of us ever dreamed
+that, thousands of miles from the old New England
+fireplace, when the dear figures that sat with me
+before its blazing forestick had long been dust, I
+would be sitting where I am to-night and listening
+to the strange, dark people who are around me.</p>
+
+<p>The room is long and low, and overhead are
+dark, round rafters—the trunks of straight pine-trees
+that used to purr on the sides of the most famous
+mountain in New Mexico. The walls are
+white as snow, and you would never imagine that
+they are built only of cut sods, plastered over and
+whitewashed. The floor is of adobe clay, packed
+almost as hard as a rock, and upon it are bright-hued
+blankets, woven in strange figures. Along
+the walls are benches, with wool mattresses rolled
+up and laid upon them. By and by these will be
+spread upon the floor for beds, but just now they
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>10]</span>
+serve as cushioned seats. Over in a corner are
+strange earthen jars of water, with little gourd dippers
+floating, and here and there upon the wall
+hang bows and arrows in sheaths of the tawny hide
+of the mountain lion; queer woven belts of red and
+green, and heavy necklaces of silver and coral, with
+charms of turquoise—the stone that stole its color
+from the sky.</p>
+
+<p>There is a fireplace, too, and we are gathered all
+about it, a dozen or more—for I have become an
+old friend here. But it is not like the fireplace
+where the little sister and I used to roast our apples
+and pop our corn. A wee hearth of clay rises
+a few inches from the floor; a yard above it hangs
+the chimney, like a big white hood; and a little
+wall, four feet high, runs from it out into the room,
+that the wind from the outer door may not blow
+the ashes. There is no big front log, but three or
+four gnarled cedar sticks, standing on one end,
+crackle loudly.</p>
+
+<p>Some of us are seated on benches, and upon the
+floor. His back against the wall, squats my host,
+who is just going to begin another fairy story.
+Such a wee, withered, wrinkled old man! It seems
+as though the hot winds of the Southwest had dried
+him as they dry the forgotten last year’s apples
+that shrivel here and there upon lonely boughs.
+He must be a century old. His children, grandchildren,
+great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren
+are all represented here to-night.
+Yet his black eyes are like a hawk’s, under their
+heavy brows, and his voice is musical and deep.
+I have never heard a more eloquent story-teller,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>11]</span>
+and I have heard some famous ones. I can tell
+you the words, but not the impressive tones, the
+animation of eye and accent, the eloquent gestures
+of this venerable Indian as he tells—what? An
+Indian telling fairy stories?</p>
+
+<p>Yes, indeed. He is the very man to tell them.
+If this dusky old playground for wrinkles, who
+never saw the inside of a book, could write out all
+the fairy stories he knows, Webster’s Unabridged
+Dictionary would hardly hold them. His father
+and his father’s father, and so on back for countless
+centuries, have handed down these stories
+by telling, from generation to generation, just as
+Tata<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> Lorenso is telling his great-great-grandsons
+to-night. When these boys grow up, they will tell
+these stories to their sons and grandsons; and so
+the legends will pass on and on, so long as there
+shall be a Tée-wahn Indian left in all New Mexico.</p>
+
+<p>But Lorenso is ready with his story. He pauses
+only to make a cigarette from the material in my
+pouch (they call me <i>Por todos</i>, because I have tobacco
+“for all”), explains for my benefit that this
+is a story of the beginning of Isleta, pats the head
+of the chubby boy at his knee, and begins again.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> Spelled Tigua by Spanish authors.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> The name means “Knife-laid-on-the-ground-to-play-<i>whib</i>.” <i>Whib</i> is an
+aboriginal foot-race in which the runners have to carry a stick with their toes.
+The name was perhaps suggested by the knife-like shape of the lava ridge on
+which the pueblo is built.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> For they are all devout, if not entirely understanding, members of a
+Christian church; but keep also much of their prehistoric faiths.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> “Father.”</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>12]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap01">I<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE ANTELOPE BOY</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>NCE upon a time there were two towns of the
+Tée-wahn, called Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee (white
+village) and Nah-choo-rée-too-ee (yellow village).
+A man of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee and his wife were
+attacked by Apaches while out on the plains one
+day, and took refuge in a cave, where they were
+besieged. And there a boy was born to them.
+The father was killed in an attempt to return to
+his village for help; and starvation finally forced
+the mother to crawl forth by night seeking roots
+to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to
+her own village, and it was several days before she
+could return to the cave—only to find it empty.</p>
+
+<p>The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure.
+Just then a Coyote<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> was passing, and
+heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked it up
+and carried it across the plain until he came to a
+herd of antelopes. Among them was a Mother-Antelope
+that had lost her fawn; and going to her
+the Coyote said:</p>
+
+<p>“Here is an <i>ah-bóo</i> (poor thing) that is left by
+its people. Will you take care of it?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>13]</span>
+The Mother-Antelope, remembering her own
+baby, with tears said “Yes,” and at once adopted
+the tiny stranger, while the Coyote thanked her
+and went home.</p>
+
+<p>So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and
+grew up among them until he was about twelve
+years old. Then it happened that a hunter came
+out from Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for antelopes, and
+found this herd. Stalking them carefully, he shot
+one with an arrow. The rest started off, running
+like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as
+they were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter
+was much surprised, and, shouldering his game,
+walked back to the village, deep in thought. Here
+he told the Cacique<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> what he had seen. Next day
+the crier was sent out to call upon all the people to
+prepare for a great hunt, in four days, to capture
+the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes.</p>
+
+<p>While preparations were going on in the village,
+the antelopes in some way heard of the intended
+hunt and its purpose. The Mother-Antelope was
+very sad when she heard it, and at first would say
+nothing. But at last she called her adopted son
+to her and said: “Son, you have heard that the
+people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee are coming to hunt.
+But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take
+you. They will surround us, intending to let all
+the antelopes escape from the circle. You must
+follow me where I break through the line, and your
+real mother will be coming on the northeast side in
+a white <i>manta</i> (robe). I will pass close to her, and
+you must stagger and fall where she can catch you.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>14]</span>
+On the fourth day all the people went out upon
+the plains. They found and surrounded the herd
+of antelopes, which ran about in a circle when the
+hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller,
+and the antelopes began to break through; but the
+hunters paid no attention to them, keeping their
+eyes upon the boy. At last he and his antelope
+mother were the only ones left, and when she
+broke through the line on the northeast he followed
+her and fell at the feet of his own human
+mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in
+her arms.</p>
+
+<p>Amid great rejoicing he was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee,
+and there he told the <i>principales</i><a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> how
+he had been left in the cave, how the Coyote had
+pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had
+reared him as her own son.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before all the country round
+about heard of the Antelope Boy and of his marvelous
+fleetness of foot. You must know that the antelopes
+never comb their hair, and while among them
+the boy’s head had grown very bushy. So the
+people called him <i>Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh</i> (big-headed
+little boy).</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp47" id="mwmm05" style="max-width: 31.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm05.jpg" id="fig03" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE COYOTE CARRIES THE BABY TO THE ANTELOPE MOTHER.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Among the other villages that heard of his
+prowess was Nah-choo-rée-too-ee, all of whose
+people “had the bad road.”<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> They had a wonderful
+runner named <i>Pée-k’hoo</i> (Deer-foot), and very
+soon they sent a challenge to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee
+for a championship race. Four days were to be
+given for preparation, to make bets, and the like.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>17]</span>
+The race was to be around the world.<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> Each village
+was to stake all its property and the lives of all its
+people on the result of the race. So powerful were
+the witches of Nah-choo-rée-too-ee that they felt
+safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people
+of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee were ashamed to decline
+the challenge.</p>
+
+<p>The day came, and the starting-point was surrounded
+by all the people of the two villages,
+dressed in their best. On each side were huge
+piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and
+all the other property of the people. The runner
+for the yellow village was a tall, sinewy athlete,
+strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope
+Boy appeared for the other side, the witches
+set up a howl of derision, and began to strike their
+rivals and jeer at them, saying, “Pooh! We might
+as well begin to kill you now! What can that
+<i>óo-deh</i> (little thing) do?”</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">At the word “<i>Hái-ko!</i>” (“Go!”) the two runners
+started toward the east like the wind. The
+Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but Deer-foot,
+by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and
+flew lightly over the lad, saying, “<em>We</em> do this way
+to each other!”<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> The Antelope Boy kept running,
+but his heart was very heavy, for he knew
+that no feet could equal the swift flight of the
+hawk.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>18]</span>
+But just as he came half-way to the east, a Mole
+came up from its burrow and said:</p>
+
+<p>“My son, where are you going so fast with a
+sad face?”</p>
+
+<p>The lad explained that the race was for the
+property and lives of all his people; and that the
+witch-runner had turned to a hawk and left him far
+behind.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="mwmm06" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm06.jpg" id="fig04" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">RAIN FALLS ON PÉE-K’HOO.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>19]</span>
+“Then, my son,” said the Mole, “I will be he
+that shall help you. Only sit down here a little
+while, and I will give you something to carry.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy sat down, and the Mole dived into the
+hole, but soon came back with four cigarettes.<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p>
+
+<p>Holding them out, the Mole said, “Now, my
+son, when you have reached the east and turned
+north, smoke one; when you have reached the
+north and turn west, smoke another; when you
+turn south, another, and when you turn east again,
+another. <i>Hái-ko!</i>”</p>
+
+<p>The boy ran on, and soon reached the east.
+Turning his face to the north he smoked the first
+cigarette. No sooner was it finished than he became
+a young antelope; and at the same instant
+a furious rain began. Refreshed by the cool
+drops, he started like an arrow from the bow.
+Half-way to the north he came to a large tree;
+and there sat the hawk, drenched and chilled, unable
+to fly, and crying piteously.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend, <em>we</em> too do this to each other,”
+called the boy-antelope as he dashed past. But
+just as he reached the north, the hawk—which
+had become dry after the short rain—caught up
+and passed him, saying, “We too do this to each
+other!” The boy-antelope turned westward, and
+smoked the second cigarette; and at once another
+terrific rain began.<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Half-way to the west he again
+passed the hawk shivering and crying in a tree,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>20]</span>
+and unable to fly; but as he was about to turn to
+the south, the hawk passed him with the customary
+taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette
+brought another storm, and again the antelope
+passed the wet hawk half-way, and again the hawk
+dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him
+as he was turning to the east for the home-stretch.
+Here again the boy-antelope stopped and smoked
+a cigarette—the fourth and last. Again a short,
+hard rain came, and again he passed the water-bound
+hawk half-way.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm07" style="max-width: 39.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm07.jpg" id="fig05" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“THE TWO RUNNERS CAME SWEEPING DOWN THE HOME-STRETCH, STRAINING EVERY NERVE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Knowing the witchcraft of their neighbors, the
+people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee had made the condition
+that, in whatever shape the racers might run the
+rest of the course, they must resume human form
+upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn,
+which was in sight of the goal. The last wetting
+of the hawk’s feathers delayed it so that the antelope
+reached the hill just ahead; and there, resuming
+their natural shapes, the two runners came
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>21]</span>
+sweeping down the home-stretch, straining every
+nerve. But the Antelope Boy gained at each
+stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt
+confident that he was their champion, and again
+began to push, and taunt, and jeer at the others.
+But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly
+across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy
+turned to mourning.</p>
+
+<p>The people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee burned all
+the witches upon the spot, in a great pile of corn;
+but somehow one escaped, and from him come all
+the witches that trouble us to this day.</p>
+
+<p>The property of the witches was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee;
+and as it was more than that village
+could hold, the surplus was sent to Shee-eh-whíb-bak
+(Isleta), where we enjoy it to this day;
+and later the people themselves moved here. And
+even now, when we dig in that little hill on the
+other side of the <i>charco</i> (pool), we find charred
+corn-cobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people
+of the yellow village.</p>
+
+<p>During Lorenso’s story the black eyes of the boys
+have never left his face; and at every pause they
+have made the customary response, “Is that so?”
+to show their attention; while the old men have
+nodded approbation, and smoked in deep silence.</p>
+
+<p>Now Lorenso turns to Desiderio,<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> who is far
+more wrinkled even than he, and says, “You have
+a tail, brother.” And Desiderio, clearing his
+throat and making a new cigarette with great impressiveness,
+begins: “My sons, do you know why
+the Coyote and the Crows are always at war?
+No? Then I will tell you.”</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> The small prairie-wolf.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> The highest religious official.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> The old men who are the congress of the pueblo.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> That is, were witches.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> The Pueblos believed it was an immense plain whereon the racers were
+to race over a square course—to the extreme east, then to the extreme north,
+and so on, back to the starting-point.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> A common Indian taunt, either good-natured or bitter, to the loser of a
+game or to a conquered enemy.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> These are made by putting a certain weed called <i>pee-én-hleh</i> into
+hollow reeds.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> I should state, by the way, that the cigarette plays an important part in
+the Pueblo folk-stories,—they never had the pipe of the Northern Indians,—and
+all rain-clouds are supposed to come from its smoke.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> Pronounced Day-see-dáy-ree-oh.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>22]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap02">II<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE AND THE CROWS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>NCE on a time many Káh-ahn lived in the edge
+of some woods. A little out into the plain
+stood a very large tree, with much sand under it.
+One day a Coyote was passing, and heard the
+Crows singing and dancing under this tree, and
+came up to watch them. They were dancing in a
+circle, and each Crow had upon his back a large bag.</p>
+
+<p>“Crow-friends, what are you doing?” asked the
+Coyote, who was much interested.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, we are dancing with our mothers,” said
+the Crows.</p>
+
+<p>“How pretty! And will you let me dance,
+too?” asked the Coyote of the <i>too-whit-lah-wid-deh</i>
+crow (captain of the dance).</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes,” replied the Crow. “Go and put
+your mother in a bag and come to the dance.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote went running home. There his old
+mother was sitting in the corner of the fireplace.
+The stupid Coyote picked up a stick and struck
+her on the head, and put her in a bag, and hurried
+back to the dance with her.</p>
+
+<p>The Crows were dancing merrily, and singing:
+“<i>Ai nana, que-ée-rah, que-ée-rah</i>.” (“Alas, Mama!
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>23]</span>
+you are shaking, you are shaking!”) The Coyote
+joined the dance, with the bag on his back, and
+sang as the Crows did:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ai nana, que-ée-rah, que-ée-rah</i>.”<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a></p>
+
+<p>But at last the Crows burst out laughing, and
+said, “What do you bring in your bag?”</p>
+
+<p>“My mother, as you told me,” replied the Coyote,
+showing them.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Crows emptied their bags, which were
+filled with nothing but sand, and flew up into the
+tree, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote then saw that they had played him
+a trick, and started home, crying “<i>Ai nana!</i>”
+When he got home he took his mother from the
+bag and tried to set her up in the chimney-corner,
+always crying, “<i>Ai nana</i>, why don’t you sit up as
+before?” But she could not, for she was dead.
+When he found that she could not sit up any more,
+he vowed to follow the Crows and eat them all the
+rest of his life; and from that day to this he has
+been hunting them, and they are always at war.</p>
+
+<p>As Desiderio concludes, the old men hitch their
+blankets around their shoulders. “No more stories
+to-night?” I ask; and Lorenso says:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>In-dáh</i> (no). Now it is to go to bed. <i>Tóo-kwai</i>
+(come),” to the boys. “Good night, friends. Another
+time, perhaps.”</p>
+
+<p>And we file out through the low door into the
+starry night.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> <i>Ai nana</i> is an exclamation always used by mourners.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>24]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap03">III<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE WAR-DANCE OF THE MICE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>O-NIGHT it is withered Diego<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> who begins
+with his story, in the musical but strange
+Tée-wahn tongue, of “Shée-choon t’o-ah-fuar.”
+Serious as that looks, it means only “the war-dance
+of the Mice.”</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time there was war between the
+people of Isleta and the Mice. There was a great
+battle, in which the Tée-wahn killed many Mice
+and took their scalps. Then the Tée-wahn returned
+to their village, and the warriors went into
+the <i>estufa</i> (sacred council-chamber) to prepare
+themselves by fasting for the great scalp-dance
+in twelve days. While the warriors were sitting
+inside, the Mice came secretly by night to attack
+the town, and their spies crept up to the <i>estufa</i>.
+When all the Tée-wahn warriors had fallen asleep,
+the Mice came stealing down the big ladder into
+the room, and creeping from sleeper to sleeper, they
+gnawed every bowstring and cut the feathers from
+the arrows and the strap of every sling. When
+this was done, the Mice raised a terrible war-whoop
+and rushed upon the warriors, brandishing their
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>25]</span>
+spears. The Tée-wahn woke and caught up their
+bows and arrows, but only to find them useless.
+So the warriors could do nothing but run from their
+tiny foes, and up the ladder to the roof they rushed
+pell-mell and thence fled to their homes, leaving
+the Mice victorious.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the town made such fun of the warriors
+that they refused to return to the fight; and
+the elated Mice held a public dance in front of the
+<i>estufa</i>. A brave sight it was, the army of these
+little people, singing and dancing and waving their
+spears. They were dressed in red blankets, with
+leather leggings glistening with silver buttons from
+top to bottom, and gay moccasins. Each had two
+eagle feathers tied to the top of his spear—the
+token of victory. And as they danced and marched
+and counter-marched, they sang exultingly:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Shée-oh-pah ch’-ót-im!</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Neh-máh-hlee-oh ch’-ot-im!</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Hló-tu feé-ny p’-óh-teh!</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>over and over again—which means</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">Quick we cut the bowstring!</div>
+    <div class="i0">Quick we cut the sling-strap!</div>
+    <div class="i0">We shaved the arrow-feathers off!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>For four days they danced and sang, and on the
+night of the fourth day danced all night around
+a big bonfire. The next morning they marched
+away. That was the time when the Mice conquered
+men; and that is the reason why we have
+never been able to drive the Mice out of our homes
+to this day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>26]</span>
+“Is <em>that</em> the reason?” ask all the boys, who
+have been listening with big black eyes intent.</p>
+
+<p>“That is the very reason,” says withered Diego.
+“Now, <i>compadre</i> Antonio, there is a tail to you.”</p>
+
+<p>Antonio, thus called upon, cannot refuse. Indian
+etiquette is very strict upon this point—as well as
+upon all others. So he fishes in his memory for a
+story, while the boys turn expectant faces toward
+him. He is not nearly so wrinkled as Diego, but
+he is very, very old, and his voice is a little tremulous
+at first. Wrapping his blanket about him, he
+begins:</p>
+
+<p>Then I will tell you why the Coyote and the Blackbirds
+are enemies—for once they were very good
+friends in the old days.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[15]</a> Pronounced Dee-áy-go.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>27]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap04">IV<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE AND THE BLACKBIRDS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>NCE upon a time a Coyote lived near an open
+wood. As he went to walk one day near the
+edge of the wood, he heard the Blackbirds (the
+Indian name means “seeds of the prairie”) calling
+excitedly:</p>
+
+<p>“Bring my bag! Bring my bag! It is going
+to hail!”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote, being very curious, came near and
+saw that they all had buckskin bags to which they
+were tying lassos, the other ends of which were
+thrown over the boughs of the trees. Very much
+surprised, the Coyote came to them and asked:</p>
+
+<p>“Blackbird-friends, what are you doing?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, friend Coyote,” they replied, “we are
+making ourselves ready, for soon there will be a
+very hard hail-storm, and we do not wish to be
+pelted to death. We are going to get into these
+bags and pull ourselves up under the branches,
+where the hail cannot strike us.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is very good,” said the Coyote, “and I
+would like to do so, too, if you will let me join you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes! Just run home and get a bag and a
+lasso, and come back here and we will help you,”
+said the Pah-táhn, never smiling.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>28]</span>
+So the Coyote started running for home, and
+got a large bag and a lasso, and came back to the
+Blackbirds, who were waiting. They fixed the
+rope and bag for him, putting the noose around
+the neck of the bag so that it would be closed
+tight when the rope was pulled. Then they threw
+the end of the lasso over a strong branch and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend Coyote, you get into your bag
+first, for you are so big and heavy that you cannot
+pull yourself up, and we will have to help you.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote crawled into the bag, and all the
+Blackbirds taking hold of the rope, pulled with all
+their might till the bag was swung clear up under the
+branch. Then they tied the end of the lasso around
+the tree so the bag could not come down, and ran
+around picking up all the pebbles they could find.</p>
+
+<p>“Mercy! How the hail comes!” they cried excitedly,
+and began to throw stones at the swinging
+bag as hard as ever they could.</p>
+
+<p>“Mercy!” howled the Coyote, as the pebbles
+pattered against him. “But this is a terrible storm,
+Blackbird-friends! It pelts me dreadfully! And
+how are you getting along?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is truly very bad, friend Coyote,” they answered,
+“but you are bigger and stronger than we,
+and ought to endure it.” And they kept pelting
+him, all the time crying and chattering as if they,
+too, were suffering greatly from the hail.</p>
+
+<p>“Ouch!” yelled the Coyote. “That one hit me
+very near the eye, friends! I fear this evil storm
+will kill us all!”</p>
+
+<p>“But be brave, friend,” called back the Blackbirds.
+“We keep our hearts, and so should you,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>29]</span>
+for you are much stronger than we.” And they
+pelted him all the harder.</p>
+
+<p>So they kept it up until they were too tired to
+throw any more; and as for the Coyote, he was so
+bruised and sore that he could hardly move. Then
+they untied the rope and let the bag slowly to the
+ground, and loosened the noose at the neck and
+flew up into the trees with sober faces.</p>
+
+<p>“Ow!” groaned the Coyote, “I am nearly dead!”
+And he crawled weeping and groaning from the
+bag, and began to lick his bruises. But when he
+looked around and saw the sun shining and the
+ground dry, and not a hailstone anywhere, he knew
+that the Blackbirds had given him a trick, and he
+limped home in a terrible rage, vowing that as soon
+as ever he got well he would follow and eat the
+Blackbirds as long as he lived. And ever since,
+even to this day, he has been following them to eat
+them, and that is why the Coyote and the Blackbirds
+are always at war.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that so?” cried all the boys in chorus, their
+eyes shining like coals.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, that is the cause of the war,” said old
+Antonio, gravely. “And now, brother, there is a
+tail to you,” turning to the tall, gray-haired Felipe<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>;
+and clearing his throat, Felipe begins about the
+Coyote and the Bear.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[16]</a> Pronounced Fay-lée-peh.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>30]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap05">V<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE AND THE BEAR<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>NCE upon a time Ko-íd-deh (the Bear) and
+Too-wháy-deh (the Coyote) chanced to meet at
+a certain spot, and sat down to talk. After a while
+the Bear said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Coyote, do you see what good land this
+is here? What do you say if we farm it together,
+sharing our labor and the crop?”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote thought well of it, and said so; and
+after talking, they agreed to plant potatoes in partnership.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the Bear, “I think of a good way
+to divide the crop. I will take all that grows below
+the ground, and you take all that grows above
+it. Then each can take away his share when he is
+ready, and there will be no trouble to measure.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote agreed, and when the time came
+they plowed the place with a sharp stick and
+planted their potatoes. All summer they worked
+together in the field, hoeing down the weeds with
+stone hoes and letting in water now and then from
+the irrigating-ditch. When harvest-time came, the
+Coyote went and cut off all the potato-tops at the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>31]</span>
+ground and carried them home, and afterward the
+Bear scratched out the potatoes from the ground
+with his big claws and took them to his house.
+When the Coyote saw this his eyes were opened,
+and he said:</p>
+
+<p>“But this is not fair. You have those round
+things, which are good to eat, but what I took home
+we cannot eat at all, neither my wife nor I.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, friend Coyote,” answered the Bear, gravely,
+“did we not make an agreement? Then we must
+stick to it like men.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote could not answer, and went home;
+but he was not satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>The next spring, as they met one day, the Bear said:</p>
+
+<p>“Come, friend Coyote, I think we ought to plant
+this good land again, and this time let us plant it
+in corn. But last year you were dissatisfied with
+your share, so this year we will change. You take
+what is below the ground for your share, and I will
+take only what grows above.”</p>
+
+<p>This seemed very fair to the Coyote, and he
+agreed. They plowed and planted and tended the
+corn; and when it came harvest-time the Bear
+gathered all the stalks and ears and carried them
+home. When the Coyote came to dig his share, he
+found nothing but roots like threads, which were
+good for nothing. He was very much dissatisfied;
+but the Bear reminded him of their agreement, and
+he could say nothing.</p>
+
+<p>That winter the Coyote was walking one day by
+the river (the Rio Grande), when he saw the Bear
+sitting on the ice and eating a fish. The Coyote
+was very fond of fish, and coming up, he said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>32]</span>
+“Friend Bear, where did you get such a fat
+fish?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I broke a hole in the ice,” said the Bear,
+“and fished for them. There are many here.”
+And he went on eating, without offering any to the
+Coyote.</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you show me how, friend?” asked the
+Coyote, fainting with hunger at the smell of the
+fish.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes,” said the Bear. “It is very easy.”
+And he broke a hole in the ice with his paw. “Now,
+friend Coyote, sit down and let your tail hang in
+the water, and very soon you will feel a nibble.
+But you must not pull it till I tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Coyote sat down with his tail in the cold
+water. Soon the ice began to form around it, and
+he called:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Bear, I feel a bite! Let me pull him
+out.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no! Not yet!” cried the Bear, “wait
+till he gets a good hold, and then you will not lose
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Coyote waited. In a few minutes the
+hole was frozen solid, and his tail was fast.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend Coyote,” called the Bear, “I think
+you have him. Pull!”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote pulled with all his might, but could
+not lift his tail from the ice, and there he was—a
+prisoner. While he pulled and howled, the Bear
+shouted with laughter, and rolled on the ice and
+ha-ha’d till his sides were sore. Then he took his
+fish and went home, stopping every little to laugh
+at the thought of the Coyote.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>33]</span>
+There on the ice the Coyote had to stay until a
+thaw liberated him, and when he got home he was
+very wet and cold and half starved. And from that
+day to this he has never forgiven the Bear, and will
+not even speak to him when they meet, and the
+Bear says, politely, “Good morning, friend Too-wháy-deh.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that so?” cry the boys.</p>
+
+<p>“That is so,” says Felipe. “But now it is time
+to go home. <i>Tóo-kwai!</i>”</p>
+
+<p>The story-telling is over for to-night. Grandmother
+Reyes is unrolling the mattresses upon the floor;
+and with pleasant “good-nights” we scatter for our
+homes here and there in the quaint adobe village.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[17]</a> The Coyote, you must know, is very stupid about some things; and in almost
+all Pueblo fairy stories is the victim of one joke or another. The bear,
+on the other hand, is one of the wisest of animals.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>34]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm08" style="max-width: 39.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm08.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The First of the Rattlesnakes">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap06">VI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE FIRST OF THE RATTLESNAKES</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapn01.jpg" width="156" height="360" alt="N">
+</div>
+<p>OW there is a tail to you, <i>compadre</i>
+[friend],” said old Desiderio, nodding
+at Patricio<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> after we had sat awhile in
+silence around the crackling fire.</p>
+
+<p>Patricio had a broad strip of rawhide
+across his knee, and was scraping
+the hair from it with a dull knife. It
+was high time to be thinking of new
+soles, for already there was a wee hole
+in the bottom of each of his moccasins;
+and as for Benito, his shy little grandson, <em>his</em> toes
+were all abroad.</p>
+
+<p>But shrilly as the cold night-wind outside hinted
+the wisdom of speedy cobbling, Patricio had no wish
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>35]</span>
+to acquire that burro’s tail, so, laying the rawhide
+and knife upon the floor beside him, he deliberately
+rolled a modest pinch of the aromatic <i>koo-ah-rée</i>
+in a corn-husk, lighted it at the coals, and
+drew Benito’s tousled head to his side.</p>
+
+<p>“You have heard,” he said, with a slow puff,
+“about Nah-chu-rú-chu, the mighty medicine-man
+who lived here in Isleta in the times of the ancients?”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ah-h!</i>” (Yes) cried all the boys. “You have
+promised to tell us how he married the moon!”</p>
+
+<p>“Another time I will do so. But now I shall
+tell you something that was before that—for Nah-chu-rú-chu
+had many strange adventures before
+he married Páh-hlee-oh, the Moon-Mother. Do
+you know why the rattlesnake—which is the king
+of all snakes and alone has the power of death in
+his mouth—always shakes his <i>guaje</i><a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> before he
+bites?”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Een-dah!</i>” chorused Ramón and Benito, and
+Fat Juan, and Tomás,<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> very eagerly; for they were
+particularly fond of hearing about the exploits of
+the greatest of Tée-wahn medicine-men.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen, then, and you shall hear.”</p>
+
+
+<p class="break">In those days Nah-chu-rú-chu had a friend who
+lived in a pueblo nearer the foot of the Eagle-Feather
+Mountain than this, in the Place of the
+Red Earth, where still are its ruins; and the two
+young men went often to the mountain together
+to bring wood and to hunt. Now, Nah-chu-rú-chu
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>36]</span>
+had a white heart, and never thought ill; but
+the friend had the evil road and became jealous,
+for Nah-chu-rú-chu was a better hunter. But he
+said nothing, and made as if he still loved Nah-chu-rú-chu
+truly.</p>
+
+<p>One day the friend came over from his village
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, let us go to-morrow
+for wood and to have a hunt.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” replied Nah-chu-rú-chu. Next
+morning he started very early and came to the village
+of his friend; and together they went to the
+mountain. When they had gathered much wood,
+and lashed it in bundles for carrying, they started
+off in opposite directions to hunt. In a short time
+each returned with a fine fat deer.</p>
+
+<p>“But why should we hasten to go home, friend
+Nah-chu-rú-chu?” said the friend. “It is still early,
+and we have much time. Come, let us stop here
+and amuse ourselves with a game.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well, friend,” answered Nah-chu-rú-chu;
+“but what game shall we play? For we have
+neither <i>pa-toles</i>, nor hoops, nor any other game
+here.”</p>
+
+<p>“See! we will roll the <i>mah-khúr</i>,<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> for while I
+was waiting for you I made one that we might
+play”—and the false friend drew from beneath his
+blanket a pretty painted hoop; but really he had
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>39]</span>
+made it at home, and had brought it hidden, on
+purpose to do harm to Nah-chu-rú-chu.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp47" id="mwmm09" style="max-width: 31.375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm09.jpg" id="fig06" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“AS HE CAUGHT THE HOOP HE WAS INSTANTLY CHANGED INTO 
+A POOR COYOTE!”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“Now go down there and catch it when I roll
+it,” said he; and Nah-chu-rú-chu did so. But as he
+caught the hoop when it came rolling, he was no
+longer Nah-chu-rú-chu the brave hunter, but a poor
+Coyote with great tears rolling down his nose!</p>
+
+<p>“Hu!” said the false friend, tauntingly, “we do
+this to each other! So now you have all the plains
+to wander over, to the north, and west, and south;
+but you can never go to the east. And if you are
+not lucky, the dogs will tear you; but if you are
+lucky, they may have pity on you. So now good-by,
+for this is the last I shall ever see of you.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the false friend went away, laughing, to his
+village; and the poor Coyote wandered aimlessly,
+weeping to think that he had been betrayed by the
+one he had loved and trusted as a brother. For
+four days he prowled about the outskirts of Isleta,
+looking wistfully at his home. The fierce dogs ran
+out to tear him; but when they came near they
+only sniffed at him, and went away without hurting
+him. He could find nothing to eat save dry bones,
+and old thongs or soles of moccasins.</p>
+
+<p>On the fourth day he turned westward, and
+wandered until he came to Mesita.<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> There was no
+town of the Lagunas there then, and only a shepherd’s
+hut and corral, in which were an old Quères
+Indian and his grandson, tending their goats.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning when the grandson went out very
+early to let the goats from the corral, he saw a
+Coyote run out from among the goats. It went
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>40]</span>
+off a little way, and then sat down and watched
+him. The boy counted the goats, and none were
+missing, and he thought it strange. But he said
+nothing to his grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>For three more mornings the very same thing
+happened; and on the fourth morning the boy told
+his grandfather. The old man came out, and set
+the dogs after the Coyote, which was sitting a little
+way off; but when they came near they would not
+touch him.</p>
+
+<p>“I suspect there is something wrong here,” said
+the old shepherd; and he called: “Coyote, are you
+coyote-true, or are you people?”</p>
+
+<p>But the Coyote could not answer; and the old
+man called again: “Coyote, are you people?”</p>
+
+<p>At that the Coyote nodded his head, “Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is so, come here and be not afraid of
+us; for we will be the ones to help you out of this
+trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Coyote came to them and licked their
+hands, and they gave it food—for it was dying of
+hunger. When it was fed, the old man said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, son, you are going out with the goats
+along the creek, and there you will see some willows.
+With your mind look at two willows, and
+mark them; and to-morrow morning you must go
+and bring one of them.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy went away tending the goats, and the
+Coyote stayed with the old man. Next morning,
+when they awoke very early, they saw all the earth
+wrapped in a white <i>manta</i>.<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>41]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp54" id="mwmm10" style="max-width: 35.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm10.jpg" id="fig07" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“COYOTE, ARE YOU PEOPLE?”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>43]</span>
+“Now, son,” said the old man, “you must wear
+only your moccasins and breech-clout, and go like a
+man to the two willows you marked yesterday. To
+one of them you must pray; and then cut the other
+and bring it to me.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy did so and came back with the willow
+stick. The old man prayed, and made a <i>mah-khúr</i>
+hoop; and bidding the Coyote stand a little way
+off and stick his head through the hoop before it
+should stop rolling, rolled it toward him. The
+Coyote waited till the hoop came very close, and
+gave a great jump and put his head through it before
+it could stop. And lo! there stood Nah-chu-rú-chu,
+young and handsome as ever; but his
+beautiful suit of fringed buckskin was all in rags.
+For four days he stayed there and was cleansed
+with the cleansing of the medicine-man; and then
+the old shepherd said to him:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, there is a road.<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>
+But take with you this <i>faja</i>,<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> for though your
+power is great, you have submitted to this evil.
+When you get home, he who did this to you will
+be first to know, and he will come pretending to be
+your friend, as if he had done nothing; and he will
+ask you to go hunting again. So you must go;
+and when you come to the mountain, with this <i>faja</i>
+you shall repay him.”</p>
+
+<p>Nah-chu-rú-chu thanked the kind old shepherd,
+and started home. But when he came to the Bad
+Hill and looked down into the valley of the Rio
+Grande, his heart sank. All the grass and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>44]</span>
+fields and trees were dry and dead—for Nah-chu-rú-chu
+was the medicine-man who controlled
+the clouds, so no rain could fall when he was
+gone; and the eight days he had been a Coyote
+were in truth eight years. The river was dry,
+and the springs; and many of the people were
+dead from thirst, and the rest were dying. But
+as Nah-chu-rú-chu came down the hill, it began
+to rain again, and all the people were glad.</p>
+
+<p>When he came into the pueblo, all the famishing
+people came out to welcome him. And
+soon came the false friend, making as if he had
+never bewitched him nor had known whither he
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days the false friend came again to
+propose a hunt; and next morning they went to
+the mountain together. Nah-chu-rú-chu had the
+pretty <i>faja</i> wound around his waist; and when
+the wind blew his blanket aside, the other saw it.</p>
+
+<p>“Ay! What a pretty <i>faja</i>!” cried the false
+friend. “Give it to me, friend Nah-chu-rú-chu.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Een-dah!</i>” (No) said Nah-chu-rú-chu. But the
+false friend begged so hard that at last he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Then I will roll it to you; and if you can
+catch it before it unwinds, you may have it.”</p>
+
+<p>So he wound it up,<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> and holding by one end
+gave it a push so that it ran away from him,
+unrolling as it went. The false friend jumped
+for it, but it was unrolled before he caught it.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Een-dah!</i>” said Nah-chu-rú-chu, pulling it
+back. “If you do not care enough for it to be
+spryer than that, you cannot have it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>45]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp59" id="mwmm11" style="max-width: 39.4375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm11.jpg" id="fig08" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“AS HE SEIZED IT HE WAS CHANGED FROM A TALL YOUNG MAN INTO A GREAT RATTLESNAKE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>47]</span>
+The false friend begged for another trial; so
+Nah-chu-rú-chu rolled it again. This time the
+false friend caught it before it was unrolled; and
+lo! instead of a tall young man, there lay a great
+rattlesnake with tears rolling from his lidless eyes!</p>
+
+<p>“We, too, do this to each other!” said Nah-chu-rú-chu.
+He took from his medicine-pouch a
+pinch of the sacred meal and laid it on the snake’s
+flat head for its food; and then a pinch of the
+corn-pollen to tame it.<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> And the snake ran out
+its red forked tongue, and licked them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said Nah-chu-rú-chu, “this mountain
+and all rocky places shall be your home. But
+you can never again do to another harm, without
+warning, as you did to me. For see, there is
+a <i>guaje</i><a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> in your tail, and whenever you would do
+any one an injury, you must warn them beforehand
+with your rattle.”</p>
+
+<p>“And is that the reason why Ch’ah-rah-ráh-deh
+always rattles to give warning before he bites?”
+asked Fat Juan, who is now quite as often called
+Juan Biscocho (John Biscuit), since I photographed
+him one day crawling out of the big
+adobe bake-oven where he had been hiding.</p>
+
+<p>“That is the very reason. Then Nah-chu-rú-chu
+left his false friend, from whom all the rattlesnakes
+are descended, and came back to his village.
+From that time all went well with Isleta,
+for Nah-chu-rú-chu was at home again to attend
+to the clouds. There was plenty of rain, and the
+river began to run again, and the springs flowed.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>48]</span>
+The people plowed and planted again, as they had
+not been able to do for several years, and all their
+work prospered. As for the people who lived in
+the Place of the Red Earth, they all moved down
+here,<a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> because the Apaches were very bad; and
+here their descendants live to this day.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that so?” sighed all the boys in chorus,
+sorry that the story was so soon done.</p>
+
+<p>“That is so,” replied old Patricio. “And now,
+<i>compadre</i> Antonio, there is a tail to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, I will tell a story which they
+showed me in Taos<a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> last year,” said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah-h!” said the boys.</p>
+
+<p>“It is about the Coyote and the Woodpecker.”</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[18]</a> Pronounced Pah-trée-see-oh.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[19]</a> The Pueblo sacred rattle.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[20]</a> Pronounced Rah-móhn, Bay-née-toh, Whahn, Toh-máhs.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[21]</a> The game of <i>mah-khúr</i>, which the Pueblos learned from the Apaches many
+centuries ago, is a very simple one, but is a favorite with all witches as a snare
+for those whom they would injure. A small hoop of willow is painted gaily,
+and has ornamental buckskin thongs stretched across it from side to side,
+spoke-fashion. The challenger to a game rolls the hoop rapidly past the challenged,
+who must throw a lance through between the spokes before it ceases
+to roll.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">[22]</a> An outlying colony of Laguna, forty miles from Isleta.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">[23]</a> This figure is always used by the Pueblos in speaking of snow in connection
+with sacred things.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">[24]</a> That is, you can go home.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">[25]</a> A fine woven belt, with figures in red and green.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">[26]</a> Like a roll of tape.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">[27]</a> This same spell is still used here by the <i>Hee-but-hái</i>, or snake-charmers.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">[28]</a> Pronounced Gwáh-heh.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">[29]</a> It is a proved fact that there was such a migration.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">[30]</a> The most northern of the Pueblo cities. Its people are also Tée-wahn.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>49]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap07">VII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE AND THE WOODPECKER</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>ELL, once upon a time a Coyote and his
+family lived near the edge of a wood. There
+was a big hollow tree there, and in it lived an old
+Woodpecker and his wife and children. One day
+as the Coyote-father was strolling along the edge
+of the forest he met the Woodpecker-father.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Hin-no-kah-kée-ma</i>” (Good evening), said the
+Coyote; “how do you do to-day, friend Hloo-rée-deh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, thank you; and how are you, friend
+Too-wháy-deh?”</p>
+
+<p>So they stopped and talked together awhile;
+and when they were about to go apart the Coyote
+said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Woodpecker, why do you not come as
+friends to see us? Come to our house to supper
+this evening, and bring your family.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, friend Coyote,” said the Woodpecker;
+“we will come with joy.”</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp82" id="mwmm12" style="max-width: 40.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm12.jpg" id="fig09" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE COYOTES AT SUPPER WITH THE WOODPECKERS.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>So that evening, when the Coyote-mother had
+made supper ready, there came the Woodpecker-father
+and the Woodpecker-mother with their
+three children. When they had come in, all five
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>50]</span>
+of the Woodpeckers stretched themselves as they
+do after flying, and by that showed their pretty
+feathers—for the Hloo-rée-deh has yellow and
+red marks under its wings. While they were
+eating supper, too, they sometimes spread their
+wings, and displayed their bright under-side.
+They praised the supper highly, and said the
+Coyote-mother was a perfect housekeeper. When
+it was time to go, they thanked the Coyotes
+very kindly and invited them to come to
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>51]</span>
+supper at their house the following evening.
+But when they were gone, the Coyote-father
+could hold himself no longer, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Did you see what airs those Woodpeckers
+put on? Always showing off their bright feathers?
+But I want them to know that the
+Coyotes are equal to them. <em>I’ll</em> show them!”</p>
+
+<p>Next day, the Coyote-father had all his family
+at work bringing wood, and built a great
+fire in front of his house. When it was time
+to go to the house of the Woodpeckers he
+called his wife and children to the fire, and
+lashed a burning stick under each of their arms,
+with the burning end pointing forward; and
+then he fixed himself in the same way.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said he, “we will show them! When
+we get there, you must lift up your arms now and
+then, to show them that we are as good as the
+Woodpeckers.”</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the house of the Woodpeckers
+and went in, all the Coyotes kept lifting their
+arms often, to show the bright coals underneath.
+But as they sat down to supper, one Coyote-girl
+gave a shriek and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, <i>tata</i>! My fire is burning me!”</p>
+
+<p>“Be patient, my daughter,” said the Coyote-father,
+severely, “and do not cry about little
+things.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ow!” cried the other Coyote-girl in a moment,
+“my fire has gone out!”</p>
+
+<p>This was more than the Coyote-father could
+stand, and he reproved her angrily.</p>
+
+<p>“But how is it, friend Coyote,” said the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>52]</span>
+Woodpecker, politely, “that your colors are so bright at
+first, but very soon become black?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that is the beauty of our colors,” replied
+the Coyote, smothering his rage; “that they are
+not always the same—like other people’s—but
+turn all shades.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Coyotes were very uncomfortable, and
+made an excuse to hurry home as soon as they
+could. When they got there, the Coyote-father
+whipped them all for exposing him to be laughed
+at. But the Woodpecker-father gathered his children
+around him, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, my children, you see what the Coyotes
+have done. Never in your life try to appear what
+you are not. Be just what you really are, and put
+on no false colors.”</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">“Is that so?” cried the boys.</p>
+
+<p>“That is so; and it is as true for people as for
+birds. Now, <i>tóo-kwai</i>—for it is bedtime.”</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>53]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm13" style="max-width: 39.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm13.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Man Who Married the Moon">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap08">VIII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapa01.jpg" width="236" height="320" alt="A">
+</div>
+<p>MONG the principal heroes of
+the Tée-wahn folk-lore, I hear
+of none more frequently in the
+winter story-tellings to which
+my aboriginal neighbors admit
+me, than the mighty Nah-chu-rú-chu.
+To this day his name,
+which means “The Bluish Light
+of Dawn,” is deeply revered by
+the quaint people who claim him
+as one of their forefathers. He had no parents,
+for he was created by the Trues themselves, and
+by them was given such extraordinary powers as
+were second only to their own. His wonderful
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>54]</span>
+feats and startling adventures—as still related by
+the believing Isleteños—would fill a volume. One
+of these fanciful myths has interested me particularly,
+not only for its important bearing on certain
+ethnological matters, but for its intrinsic qualities
+as well. It is a thoroughly characteristic leaf from
+the legendary lore of the Southwest.</p>
+
+<p>Long before the first Spaniards came to New
+Mexico (and <em>that</em> was three hundred and fifty
+years ago) Isleta stood where it stands to-day—on
+a lava ridge that defies the gnawing current
+of the Rio Grande.<a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> In those far days, Nah-chu-rú-chu
+dwelt in Isleta, and was a leader of his
+people. A weaver by trade,<a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> his rude loom hung
+from the dark rafters of his room; and in it he
+wove the strong black <i>mantas</i> which are the dress
+of Pueblo women to this day.</p>
+
+<p>Besides being very wise in medicine, Nah-chu-rú-chu
+was young, and tall, and strong, and handsome;
+and all the girls of the village thought it a
+shame that he did not care to take a wife. For
+him the shyest dimples played, for him the whitest
+teeth flashed out, as the owners passed him in the
+plaza; but he had no eyes for them. Then, in
+the naïve custom of the Tée-wahn, bashful fingers
+worked wondrous fringed shirts of buckskin, or
+gay awl-sheaths, which found their way to his
+house by unknown messengers—each as much as
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>55]</span>
+to say, “She who made this is yours, if you will
+have her.” But Nah-chu-rú-chu paid no more attention
+to the gifts than to the smiles, and just kept
+weaving and weaving such <i>mantas</i> as were never
+seen in the land of the Tée-wahn before or since.</p>
+
+<p>The most persistent of his admirers were two
+sisters who were called <i>Ee-eh-chóo-ri-ch’áhm-nin</i>—the
+Yellow-Corn-Maidens. They were both
+young and pretty, but they “had the evil road”—which
+is the Indian way of saying that they
+were possessed of a magic power which they always
+used for ill. When all the other girls gave up,
+discouraged at Nah-chu-rú-chu’s indifference, the
+Yellow-Corn-Maidens kept coming day after day,
+trying to attract him. At last the matter became
+such a nuisance to Nah-chu-rú-chu that he hired
+the deep-voiced town-crier to go through all the
+streets and announce that in four days Nah-chu-rú-chu
+would choose a wife.</p>
+
+<p>For dippers, to take water from the big earthen
+<i>tinajas</i>, the Tée-wahn used then, as they use to-day,
+queer little ladle-shaped <i>omates</i> made of a
+gourd; but Nah-chu-rú-chu, being a great medicine-man
+and very rich, had a dipper of pure pearl,
+shaped like the gourds, but wonderfully precious.</p>
+
+<p>“On the fourth day,” proclaimed the crier,
+“Nah-chu-rú-chu will hang his pearl <i>omate</i> at his
+door, where every girl who will may throw a handful
+of corn-meal at it. And she whose meal is so
+well ground that it sticks to the <i>omate</i>, she shall be
+the wife of Nah-chu-rú-chu!”</p>
+
+<p>When this strange news came rolling down the
+still evening air, there was a great scampering of
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>56]</span>
+little moccasined feet. The girls ran out from
+hundreds of gray adobe houses to catch every
+word; and when the crier had passed on, they ran
+back into the store-rooms and began to ransack the
+corn-bins for the biggest, evenest, and most perfect
+ears. Shelling the choicest, each took her few
+handfuls of kernels to the sloping <i>metate</i>,<a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> and
+with the <i>mano</i>, or hand-stone, scrubbed the grist
+up and down, and up and down, till the hard corn
+was a soft, blue meal. All the next day, and
+the next, and the next, they ground it over and
+over again, until it grew finer than ever flour was
+before; and every girl felt sure that her meal
+would stick to the <i>omate</i> of the handsome young
+weaver. The Yellow-Corn-Maidens worked hardest
+of all; day and night for four days they ground
+and ground, with all the magic spells they knew.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm14" style="max-width: 33.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm14.jpg" id="fig10" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE ISLETA GIRLS GRINDING CORN WITH THE “MANO” ON THE “METATE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>57]</span>
+Now, in those far-off days the Moon had not
+gone up into the sky to live, but was a maiden of
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak. And a very beautiful girl she
+was, though blind of one eye. She had long admired
+Nah-chu-rú-chu, but was always too maidenly to
+try to attract his attention as other girls had done;
+and at the time when the crier made his proclamation,
+she happened to be
+away at her father’s ranch.
+It was only upon the fourth
+day that she returned to
+town, and in a few moments
+the girls were to go with
+their meal to test it upon
+the magic dipper. The two
+Yellow-Corn-Maidens were
+just coming from their house
+as she passed, and told her
+of what was to be done.
+They were very confident
+of success, and told the
+Moon-girl only to pain her;
+and laughed derisively as
+she went running to her
+home.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp30" id="mwmm15" style="max-width: 16.4375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm15.jpg" id="fig11" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE MOON-MAIDEN.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>By this time a long file
+of girls was coming to Nah-chu-rú-chu’s
+house, outside
+whose door hung the pearl
+<i>omate</i>. Each girl carried in
+her left hand a little jar of
+meal; and as they passed the door one by one, each
+took from the jar a handful and threw it against
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>58]</span>
+the magic dipper. But each time the meal dropped
+to the ground, and left the pure pearl undimmed
+and radiant as ever.</p>
+
+<p>At last came the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, who had
+waited to watch the failure of the others. As they
+came where they could see Nah-chu-rú-chu sitting
+at his loom, they called: “Ah! Here we have the
+meal that will stick!” and each threw a handful at
+the <i>omate</i>. But it did not stick at all; and still
+from his seat Nah-chu-rú-chu could see, in that
+mirror-like surface, all that went on outside.</p>
+
+<p>The Yellow-Corn-Maidens were very angry, and
+instead of passing on as the others had done, they
+stood there and kept throwing and throwing at the
+<i>omate</i>, which smiled back at them with undiminished
+luster.</p>
+
+<p>Just then, last of all, came the Moon, with a
+single handful of meal which she had hastily ground.
+The two sisters were in a fine rage by this time,
+and mocked her, saying:</p>
+
+<p>“Hoh! <i>P’áh-hlee-oh</i>,<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> you poor thing, we are very
+sorry for you! Here we have been grinding our
+meal four days and still it will not stick, and you
+we did not tell till to-day. How, then, can you
+ever hope to win Nah-chu-rú-chu? Pooh, you silly
+little thing!”</p>
+
+<p>But the Moon paid no attention whatever to
+their taunts. Drawing back her little dimpled
+hand, she threw the meal gently against the pearl
+<i>omate</i>, and so fine was it ground that every tiniest
+bit of it clung to the polished shell, and not a particle
+fell to the ground.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>59]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm16" style="max-width: 49.8125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm16.jpg" id="fig12" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE YELLOW-CORN-MAIDENS THROWING MEAL AT THE PEARL “OMATE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>61]</span>
+When Nah-chu-rú-chu saw that, he rose up
+quickly from his loom and came and took the
+Moon by the hand, saying, “You are she who
+shall be my wife. You shall never want for anything,
+since I have very much.” And he gave her
+many beautiful <i>mantas</i>, and cotton wraps, and fat
+boots of buckskin that wrap round and round, that
+she might dress as the wife of a rich chief. But the
+Yellow-Corn-Maidens, who had seen it all, went
+away vowing vengeance on the Moon.</p>
+
+<p>Nah-chu-rú-chu and his sweet Moon-wife were
+very happy together. There was no other such
+housekeeper in all the pueblo as she, and no other
+hunter brought home so much buffalo-meat from
+the vast plains to the east, nor so many antelopes,
+and black-tailed deer, and jack-rabbits from the
+Manzanos as did Nah-chu-rú-chu. But he constantly
+was saying to her:</p>
+
+<p>“Moon-wife, beware of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens,
+for they have the evil road and will try to do
+you harm, but you must always refuse to do whatever
+they propose.” And always the young wife
+promised.</p>
+
+<p>One day the Yellow-Corn-Maidens came to the
+house and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Nah-chu-rú-chu, we are going to the
+<i>llano</i><a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> to gather <i>amole</i>.<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> Will you not let your wife
+go with us?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, she may go,” said Nah-chu-rú-chu;
+but taking her aside, he said, “Now be sure that
+you refuse whatever they may propose.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>62]</span>
+The Moon promised, and started away with the
+Yellow-Corn-Maidens.</p>
+
+<p>In those days there was only a thick forest of
+cottonwoods where are now the smiling vineyards,
+and gardens, and orchards of Isleta, and to reach
+the <i>llano</i> the three women had to go through this
+forest. In the very center of it they came to a
+deep <i>pozo</i>—a square well, with steps at one side
+leading down to the water’s edge.</p>
+
+<p>“Ay!” said the Yellow-Corn-Maidens, “how
+hot and thirsty is our walk! Come, let us get a
+drink of water.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Moon, remembering her husband’s
+words, said politely that she did not wish to drink.
+They urged in vain, but at last, looking down into
+the <i>pozo</i>, called:</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Moon-friend! Come and look in this still
+water, and see how pretty you are!”</p>
+
+<p>The Moon, you must know, has always been just
+as fond of looking at herself in the water as she is to
+this very day, and forgetting Nah-chu-rú-chu’s warning,
+she came to the brink, and looked down upon
+her fair reflection. But at that very moment, the two
+witch-sisters pushed her head foremost into the <i>pozo</i>,
+and drowned her; and then filled the well with earth,
+and went away as happy as wicked hearts can be.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Nah-chu-rú-chu began to look oftener from his
+loom to the door as the sun crept along the adobe
+floor, closer and closer to his seat; and when the
+shadows were very long, he sprang suddenly to his
+feet, and walked to the house of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens
+with long, strong strides.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>63]</span>
+“<i>Ee-eh-chóo-ri-ch’áhm-nin</i>,” he said, very sternly,
+“where is my little wife?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, isn’t she at home?” asked the wicked
+sisters as if in great surprise. “She got enough
+<i>amole</i> long before we did, and started home with it.
+We supposed she had come long ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah,” groaned Nah-chu-rú-chu within himself;
+“it is as I thought—they have done her ill.” But
+without a word to them he turned on his heel and
+went away.</p>
+
+<p>From that hour all went ill with Isleta, for Nah-chu-rú-chu
+held the well-being of all his people,
+even unto life and death. Paying no attention to
+what was going on about him, he sat motionless
+upon the very crosspiece of the <i>estufa</i> ladder—the
+highest point in all the town—with his head
+bowed upon his hands. There he sat for days,
+never speaking, never moving. The children that
+played along the streets looked up to the motionless
+figure, and ceased their boisterous play. The
+old men shook their heads gravely, and muttered:
+“We are in evil times, for Nah-chu-rú-chu is mourning,
+and will not be comforted. And there is no more
+rain, so that our crops are drying in the fields.
+What shall we do?”</p>
+
+<p>At last all the councilors met together, and decided
+that there must be another effort made to
+find the lost wife. It was true that the great Nah-chu-rú-chu
+had searched for her in vain, and the
+people had helped him; but perhaps some one else
+might be more fortunate. So they took some of
+the sacred smoking-weed wrapped in a corn-husk
+and went to Shée-wid-deh, who has the sharpest
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>64]</span>
+eyes in all the world. Giving him the sacred gift
+they said:</p>
+
+<p>“Eagle-friend, we see Nah-chu-rú-chu in great
+trouble, for he has lost his Moon-wife. Come,
+search for her, we pray you, if she be alive or
+dead.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Eagle took the offering, and smoked the
+smoke-prayer; and then he went winging upward
+into the very sky. Higher and higher he rose, in
+great upward circles, while his keen eyes noted
+every stick, and stone, and animal on the face of all
+the world. But with all his eyes, he could see nothing
+of the lost wife; and at last he came back sadly,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>“People-friends, I went up to where I could see
+the whole world, but I could not find her.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the people went with an offering to the
+Coyote, whose nose is sharpest in all the world;
+and besought him to try to find the Moon. The
+Coyote smoked the smoke-prayer, and started off
+with his nose to the ground, trying to find her
+tracks. He trotted all over the earth; but at last
+he too came back without finding what he sought.</p>
+
+<p>Then the troubled people got the Badger to
+search, for he is best of all the beasts at digging—and
+he it was whom the Trues employed to dig the
+caves in which the people first dwelt when they
+came to this world. The Badger trotted and
+pawed, and dug everywhere, but he could not find
+the Moon; and he came home very sad.</p>
+
+<p>Then they asked the Osprey, who can see farthest
+under water, and he sailed high above all the
+lakes and rivers in the world, till he could count the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>67]</span>
+pebbles and the fish in them, but he too failed to
+discover the lost Moon.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="mwmm17" style="max-width: 33.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm17.jpg" id="fig13" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE GRIEF OF NAH-CHU-RÚ-CHU.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>By now the crops were dead and sere in the
+fields, and thirsty animals walked crying along the
+dry river. Scarcely could the people themselves dig
+deep enough to find so much water as would keep
+them alive. They were at a loss which way to turn;
+but at last they thought: We will go to P’ah-kú-ee-teh-áy-deh,<a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>
+who can find the dead—for surely
+she is dead, or the others would have found her.</p>
+
+<p>So they went to him and besought him. The
+Turkey-buzzard wept when he saw Nah-chu-rú-chu
+still sitting there upon the ladder, and said:
+“Truly it is sad for our great friend; but for me, I
+am afraid to go, since they who are more mighty
+than I have already failed; but I will try.” And
+spreading his broad wings he went climbing up the
+spiral ladder of the sky. Higher he wheeled, and
+higher, till at last not even the Eagle could see
+him. Up and up, till the hot sun began to singe
+his head, and not even the Eagle had ever been so
+high. He cried with pain, but still he kept mounting—until
+he was so close to the sun that all the
+feathers were burned from his head and neck. But
+he could see nothing; and at last, frantic with
+the burning, he came wheeling downward. When
+he got back to the <i>estufa</i> where all the people were
+waiting, they saw that his head and neck had been
+burnt bare of feathers—and from that day to this
+the feathers would never grow out again.</p>
+
+<p>“And did you see nothing?” they all asked,
+when they had bathed his burns.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>68]</span>
+“Nothing,” he answered, “except that when I
+was half-way down I saw in the middle of yon cottonwood
+forest a little mound covered with all the
+beautiful flowers in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” cried Nah-chu-rú-chu, speaking for the
+first time. “Go, friend, and bring me one flower
+from the very middle of that mound.”</p>
+
+<p>Off flew the Buzzard, and in a few minutes returned
+with a little white flower. Nah-chu-rú-chu
+took it, and descending from the ladder in silence,
+walked to his house, while all the wondering people
+followed.</p>
+
+<p>When Nah-chu-rú-chu came inside his home once
+more, he took a new <i>manta</i> and spread it in the
+middle of the room; and laying the wee white
+flower tenderly in its center, he put another new
+<i>manta</i> above it. Then, dressing himself in the
+splendid buckskin suit the lost wife had made him,
+and taking in his right hand the sacred <i>guaje</i> (rattle),
+he seated himself at the head of the <i>mantas</i>
+and sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">“<i>Shú-nah, shú-nah!</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Aí-ay-ay, aí-ay-ay, aí-ay-ay!</i>”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">(Seeking her, seeking her!</div>
+    <div class="i0">There-away, there-away!)</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>When he had finished the song, all could see
+that the flower had begun to grow, so that it lifted
+the upper <i>manta</i> a little. Again he sang, shaking
+his gourd; and still the flower kept growing.
+Again and again he sang; and when he had finished
+for the fourth time, it was plain to all that a
+human form lay between the two <i>mantas</i>. And
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>69]</span>
+when he sang his song the fifth time, the form sat
+up and moved. Tenderly he lifted away the over-cloth,
+and there sat his sweet Moon-wife, fairer than
+ever, and alive as before!<a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></p>
+
+<p>For four days the people danced and sang in the
+public square. Nah-chu-rú-chu was happy again;
+and now the rain began to fall. The choked earth
+drank and was glad and green, and the dead crops
+came to life.</p>
+
+<p>When his wife told him how the witch-sisters
+had done, he was very angry; and that very day
+he made a beautiful hoop to play the <i>mah-khúr</i>.
+He painted it, and put strings across it, decorated
+with beaded buckskin.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said he, “the wicked Yellow-Corn-Maidens
+will come to congratulate you, and will
+pretend not to know where you were. You must
+not speak of that, but invite them to go out and
+play a game with you.”</p>
+
+<p>In a day or two the witch-sisters did come, with
+deceitful words; and the Moon invited them to go
+out and play a game. They went up to the edge
+of the <i>llano</i>, and there she let them get a glimpse
+of the pretty hoop.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, give us that, Moon-friend,” they teased.
+But she refused. At last, however, she said:</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we will play the hoop-game. I will stand
+here, and you there; and if, when I roll it to you,
+you catch it before it falls upon its side, you may
+have it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>70]</span>
+So the witch-sisters stood a little way down the
+hill, and she rolled the bright hoop. As it came
+trundling to them, both grasped it at the same instant;
+and lo! instead of the Yellow-Corn-Maidens,
+there were two great snakes, with tears rolling
+down ugly faces. The Moon came and put upon
+their heads a little of the pollen of the corn-blossom
+(still used by Pueblo snake-charmers) to tame them,
+and a pinch of the sacred meal for their food.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said she, “you have the reward of treacherous
+friends. Here shall be your home among
+these rocks and cliffs forever, but you must never
+be found upon the prairie; and you must never
+bite a person. Remember you are women, and
+must be gentle.”</p>
+
+<p>And then the Moon went home to her husband,
+and they were very happy together. As for the
+sister snakes, they still dwell where she bade them,
+and never venture away; though sometimes the
+people bring them to their houses to catch the
+mice, for these snakes never hurt a person.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">[31]</a> Bandelier has published a contrary opinion, to which I do not think he
+would now cling. The folk-lore and the very name of the town fully prove to
+me that its site has not changed in historic times.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">[32]</a> In the ancient days, weaving was practised only by the men, among the
+Pueblos. This old usage is now reversed, and it is the women who weave,
+except in the pueblos of Moqui.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">[33]</a> The slab of lava which still serves as a hand-mill in Pueblo houses.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">[34]</a> Tée-wahn name of the moon; literally, “Water-Maiden.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">[35]</a> Plain.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">[36]</a> The soapy root of the palmilla, used for washing.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">[37]</a> Turkey-buzzard; literally, “water-goose-grandfather.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">[38]</a> Nah-chu-rú-chu’s incantation followed the exact form still used by the
+Indian conjurors of the Southwest in their wonderful trick of making corn
+grow and mature from the kernel in one day.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>71]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap09">IX<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MOTHER MOON</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>ND do you know why it is that the Moon has
+but one eye? It is a short story, but one of
+the most poetic and beautiful in all the pretty folk-lore
+of the Pueblos.</p>
+
+<p>P’áh-hlee-oh, the Moon-Maiden, was the Tée-wahn
+Eve<a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a>—the first and loveliest woman in all
+the world. She had neither father nor mother,
+sister nor brother; and in her fair form were the
+seeds of all humanity—of all life and love and
+goodness. The Trues, who are the unseen spirits
+that are above all, made T’hoor-íd-deh, the Sun,
+who was to be father of all things; and because he
+was alone, they made for him a companion, the first
+to be of maids, the first to be a wife. From them
+began the world and all that is in it; and all their
+children were strong and good. Very happy were
+the Father-all and the Mother-all, as they watched
+their happy brood. He guarded them by day and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>72]</span>
+she by night—only there <em>was</em> no night, for then
+the Moon had two eyes, and saw as clearly as the
+Sun, and with glance as bright. It was all as one
+long day of golden light. The birds flew always,
+the flowers never shut, the young people danced
+and sang, and none knew how to rest.</p>
+
+<p>But at last the Trues thought better. For the
+endless light grew heavy to the world’s young eyes
+that knew no tender lids of night. And the Trues
+said:</p>
+
+<p>“It is not well, for so there is no sleep, and the
+world is very tired. We must not keep the Sun
+and Moon seeing alike. Let us put out one of his
+eyes, that there may be darkness for half the time,
+and then his children can rest.” And they called
+T’hoor-íd-deh and P’áh-hlee-oh before them to say
+what must be done.</p>
+
+<p>But when she heard that, the Moon-Mother
+wept for her strong and handsome husband, and
+cried:</p>
+
+<p>“No! No! Take my eyes, for my children,
+but do not blind the Sun! He is the father, the
+provider—and how shall he watch against harm,
+or how find us game without his bright eyes?
+Blind me, and keep him all-seeing.”</p>
+
+<p>And the Trues said: “It is well, daughter.”
+And so they took away one of her eyes, so that
+she could never see again so well. Then night
+came upon the tired earth, and the flowers and
+birds and people slept their first sleep, and it was
+very good. But she who first had the love of
+children, and paid for them with pain as mother’s
+pay, she did not grow ugly by her sacrifice. Nay,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>73]</span>
+she is lovelier than ever, and we all love her to
+this day. For the Trues are good to her, and
+gave her in place of the bloom of girlhood the
+beauty that is only in the faces of mothers.</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">So mother-pale above us</div>
+    <div class="i1">She bends, her watch to keep,</div>
+    <div class="i0">Who of her sight dear-bought the night</div>
+    <div class="i1">To give her children sleep.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">[39]</a> She is honored in almost every detail of the Pueblo ceremonials. The
+most important charm or implement of the medicine-men, the holiest fetish
+of all, is typical of her. It is called Mah-pah-róo, the Mother, and is the
+most beautiful article a Pueblo ever fashioned. A flawless ear of pure white
+corn (a type of fertility or motherhood) is tricked out with a downy mass of
+snow-white feathers, and hung with ornaments of silver, coral, and the
+precious turquoise.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>74]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap10">X<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MAKER OF THE THUNDER-KNIVES</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">Y</span>OU have perhaps seen the beautiful arrow-heads
+of moss-agate, petrified wood, or volcanic
+glass which were used, until very recently,
+by the Indians of the Southwest, and are still treasured
+by them. At least you are familiar with the
+commoner flint ones left by the aboriginal tribes
+farther eastward. And seeing them, you must
+have wondered how they were ever made from
+such fearfully stubborn stone—always the very
+hardest that was accessible to the maker. I have
+tried for six hours, with the finest drills, to make a
+little hole in the thinnest part of an agate arrow-head,
+to put it on a charm-ring; but when the drill
+and I were completely worn out, there was not so
+much as a mark on the arrow-head to show what
+we had been doing. If you will take one to your
+jeweler, he will have as poor luck.</p>
+
+<p>But the <em>making</em> of the arrow-heads is really a
+very simple matter; and I have fashioned many
+very fair ones. The only implements are part of
+a peculiarly shaped bone—preferably from the
+thigh of the elk—and a stick about the size of a
+lead-pencil, but of double the diameter. The maker
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>75]</span>
+of <i>puntas</i> takes the bone in his left hand; in his
+right is the stick, against which the selected splinter
+of stone is firmly pressed by the thumb. With
+a firm, steady pressure against the sharp edge of
+the bone, a tiny flake is nicked from the splinter.
+Then the splinter is turned, and a nick is similarly
+made on the other side, just a little ahead of the
+first; and so on. It is by this alternate nicking
+from opposite sides that the stone-splinter grows
+less by tiny flakes, and is shaped by degrees to a
+perfect arrow-head. If you will notice the edge of
+an arrow-head, you will see plainly that the work
+was done in this way, for the edge is not a straight
+but a wavy line—sometimes even a zigzag, recalling
+the manner in which saw-teeth are “set.”</p>
+
+<p>Every Indian, and every one who has studied
+the Indian, knows this. But if I ask one of my
+brown old <i>compadres</i> here, where he got the
+arrow-head which he wears as a charm about his
+wrinkled neck, he will not tell me any such story
+as that. No, indeed!</p>
+
+<p>Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh, the Horned Toad, gave it
+to him. So? Oh, yes! He talked so nicely to a
+Horned Toad on the mesa<a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> the other day, that the
+little creature put a <i>punta</i> where he could find it
+the next time he went thither.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever a Pueblo sees a Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh,
+he jumps from his horse or his big farm-wagon,
+and makes every effort to capture the <i>animalito</i> before
+it can reach a hole. If successful, he pulls from
+his blanket or his legging-garters a red thread—no
+other color will do—and ties it necklace-fashion
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>76]</span>
+around the neck of his little prisoner. Then he
+invokes all sorts of blessings on the Horned Toad,
+assures it of his sincere respect and friendship,
+begs it to remember him with a <i>punta</i>, and lets it
+go. Next time he goes to the mesa, he fully expects
+to find an arrow-head, and generally <em>does</em>
+find one—doubtless because he then searches
+more carefully on that broad reach where so many
+arrow-heads have been lost in ancient wars and
+hunts. Finding one, he prays to the Sun-Father
+and the Moon-Mother and all his other deities,
+and returns profound thanks to the Horned Toad.
+Some finders put the arrow-head in the pouch
+which serves Indians for a pocket.<a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> Some wear
+it as an amulet on the necklace. In either case,
+the belief is that no evil spirit can approach the
+wearer while he has that charm about him. In
+fact, it is a sovereign spell against witches.</p>
+
+<p>The common belief of the Pueblos is that the
+Horned Toad makes these arrow-heads only during
+a storm, and deposits them at the very instant
+when it thunders. For this reason an arrow-head
+is always called <i>Kóh-un-shée-eh</i>, or thunder-knife.
+The strange appearance of this quaint, spiked lizard—which
+is really not a “hop-toad” at all—doubtless
+suggested the notion; for his whole back is
+covered with peculiar points which have very much
+the shape and color of Indian arrow-heads.</p>
+
+<p>Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh is a very important personage
+in the Pueblo folk-lore. He not only is the
+inventor and patentee of the arrow-head and the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>77]</span>
+scalping-knife,<a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> but he also invented irrigation, and
+taught it to man; and is a general benefactor of
+our race.</p>
+
+<p>There is one very sacred folk-story which tells
+why boys must never smoke until they have
+proved their manhood. Pueblo etiquette is very
+strict on all such points.<a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time there lived in Isleta two boys
+who were cousins. One day their grandfather,
+who was a True Believer (in all the ancient rites),
+caught them in a corner smoking the <i>weer</i>.
+Greatly shocked, he said to them:</p>
+
+<p>“Sons, I see you want to be men; but you
+must prove yourselves before you are thought to
+be. Know, then, that nobody is born with the
+freedom of the smoke, but every one must earn it.
+So go now, each of you, and bring me Quée-hla-kú-ee,
+the skin of the oak.”</p>
+
+<p>Now, in the talk of men, Quée-hla-kú-ee is another
+thing; but the boys did not know. They got their
+mothers to give them some tortillas,<a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> and
+with this lunch they started for the Bosque (a
+10,000-foot peak twenty miles east of Isleta).
+Reaching the mountain, they went to every kind
+of tree and cut a little piece of its bark—for they
+were not sure which was the oak. Then they
+came home, very tired, and carried the bark to
+their grandfather. But when he had looked at
+it all he said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>78]</span>
+“Young men, you have not yet proved yourselves.
+So now it is for you to go again and look
+for the <em>oak</em>-bark.”</p>
+
+<p>At this their hearts were heavy, but they took
+tortillas and started again. On the way they met
+an old Horned Toad, who stopped them and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Young-men-friends, I know what trouble you
+are in. Your <i>tata</i> has sent you for the skin of the
+oak, but you do not know the oak he means. But
+I will be the one to help you. Take these,” and he
+gave them two large thunder-knives, “and with
+these in hand go up that cañon yonder. In a little
+way you will see a great many of your enemies, the
+Navajos, camping. On the first hill from which
+you see their fire, there stop. In time, while you
+wait there, you will hear a Coyote howling across
+the cañon. Then is the time to give your enemy-yell
+[war-whoop] and attack them.”</p>
+
+<p>The boys thanked the Horned Toad and went.
+Presently they saw the camp-fire of the Navajos,
+and waiting till the Coyote called they gave the
+enemy-yell and then attacked. They had no weapons
+except their thunder-knives, but with these they
+killed several Navajos, and the others ran away.
+In the dark and their hurry they made a mistake
+and scalped a woman (which was never customary
+with the Pueblos).</p>
+
+<p>Taking their scalps, they hurried home to their
+grandfather, and when he saw that they had
+brought the real oak-skin (which is an Indian
+euphemy for “scalp”), he led them proudly to the
+Cacique, and the Cacique ordered the T’u-a-fú-ar
+(scalp-dance). After the inside days, when the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>79]</span>
+takers of scalps must stay in the <i>estufa</i>, was the
+dance. And when it came to the round dance at
+night the two boys were dancing side by side.</p>
+
+<p>Then a young woman who was a stranger came
+and pushed them apart and danced between them.
+She was very handsome, and both fell in love with
+her. But as soon as their hearts thought of love,
+a skeleton was between them in place of the girl—for
+they who go to war or take a scalp have no
+right to think of love.</p>
+
+<p>They were very frightened, but kept dancing until
+they were too tired, and then went to the singers
+inside the circle to escape. But the skeleton followed
+them and stood beside them, and they could
+not hide from it.</p>
+
+<p>At last they began to run away, and went to the
+east. Many moons they kept running, but the
+skeleton was always at their heels. At last they
+came to the Sunrise Lake, wherein dwell the Trues
+of the East.</p>
+
+<p>The guards let them in, and they told the Trues
+all that had happened, and the skeleton stood beside
+them. The Trues said: “Young men, if you
+are men, sit down and we will protect you.”</p>
+
+<p>But when the boys looked again at the skeleton
+they could not stop, but ran away again. Many
+moons they ran north till they came to where the
+Trues of the North dwell in the Black Lake of
+Tears.</p>
+
+<p>The Trues of the North promised to defend
+them, but again the skeleton came and scared
+them away; and they ran for many moons until
+they came to the Trues of the West, who dwell
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>80]</span>
+in T’hoor-kím-p’ah-whée-ay, the Yellow Lake
+Where the Sun Sets. And there the same things
+happened; and they ran away again to the south,
+till they found the Trues of the South in P’ah-chéer-p’ah-whée-ay,
+the Lake of Smooth Pebbles.</p>
+
+<p>But there again it was the same, and again they
+ran many moons till they came to the Trues of the
+Center, who live here in Isleta. And here the
+skeleton said to them:</p>
+
+<p>“Why do you run from me now? For when
+you were dancing you looked at me and loved me,
+but now you run away.”</p>
+
+<p>But they could not answer her, and ran into the
+room of the Trues of the Center, and told their
+story. Then the Trues gave power to the Cum-pa-huit-la-wid-deh<a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a>
+to see the skeleton,—which
+no one else in the world could see, except the
+Trues and the two young men,—and said to him:</p>
+
+<p>“Shoot this person who follows these two.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Cum-pa-huit-la-wid-deh shot the skeleton
+through with an arrow from the left side to the
+right side,<a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> and took the scalp.</p>
+
+<p>That was the end of the skeleton, and the young
+men were free. And when the Trues had given
+them counsel, they came to their people, and told
+the Cacique all. He made a new scalp-dance, because
+they had not stayed to finish the first one.</p>
+
+<p>And when the dance was done, they told all the
+people what had happened. Then the principals
+had a meeting and made a rule which is to this
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>81]</span>
+day, that in the twelve days of the scalp<a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> no warrior
+shall think thoughts of love.</p>
+
+<p>For it was because they had love-thoughts of
+the Navajo girl that her skeleton haunted them.
+And at the same time it was made the law, which
+still is, that no one shall smoke till he has taken a
+scalp to prove himself a man.</p>
+
+<p>For if the boys had not been smoking when
+they had not freedom to, their grandfather would
+not have sent them, and all that trouble would not
+have come. And that is why.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">[40]</a> Table-land.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">[41]</a> The “left-hand-bag,” <i>shur-taí-moo</i>, because it always hangs from the
+right shoulder and under the left arm.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">[42]</a> Which were formerly about the same thing—a large and sharp-edged
+arrow-head or similar stone being the only knife of the Pueblos in prehistoric
+times.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">[43]</a> See my “Strange Corners of Our Country” (The Century Co.), chap. xviii.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">[44]</a> A cake of unleavened batter cooked on a hot stone. They look something
+like a huge flapjack, but are very tough and keep a long time.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">[45]</a> Guard at the door of the gods.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">[46]</a> The only official method of killing a witch, which is one of the chief
+duties of the Cum-pa-huit-la-wen.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">[47]</a> The period of fasting and purification before and during the scalp-dance.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>82]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap11">XI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE STONE-MOVING SONG</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE Horned Toad is also a famous musician—a
+sort of Pueblo Orpheus, whose song charms
+the very stones and trees. A short folk-story of
+Isleta refers to this.</p>
+
+<p>One day Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh was working in
+his field. There were many very large rocks,
+and to move them he sang a strong song as he
+pulled:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Yah éh-ah, héh-ah háy-na,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Yah, éh-ah, heh-ah hay-na,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Wha-naí-kee-ay hee-e-wid-deh</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Ah-kwe-ée-hee ai-yén-cheh,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Yahb-k’yáy-queer ah-chóo-hee.</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>When he sang this and touched the heaviest stone,
+it rose up from the ground, and went over his head
+and fell far behind him.</p>
+
+<p>While he worked so, Too-wháy-deh came along;
+and seeing what happened, he wished to meddle,
+as his way is. So he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Quáh-le-kee-raí-deh, let <em>me</em> do it.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, friend,” said the Horned Toad. “It is
+better for every one to do what he knows, and not
+to put himself in the work of others.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>83]</span>
+“Do not think so,” answered the Coyote.
+“For I can do this also. It is very easy.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well, then—but see that you are not
+afraid; for so it will be bad.”</p>
+
+<p>Too-wháy-deh laid off his blanket and took
+hold of the largest rock there was, and sang
+the song. When he sang, the rock rose up in
+the air to go over his head; but he, being
+scared, ducked his head. Then at once the
+rock fell on him, and he had no bones left.
+Then the Horned Toad laughed, and gave the
+enemy-yell (war-whoop), saying: “We do this
+to one another!”</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>84]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap12">XII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE AND THE THUNDER-KNIFE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>NOTHER Isleta myth tells of an equally sad
+misadventure of the Coyote.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time an old Coyote-father took
+a walk away from home; for in that season of
+the year his babies were so peevish they would
+not let him sleep. It happened that a Locust
+was making pottery, under a tree; and every
+time she moved the molding-spoon around the
+soft clay jar, she sang a song. The Coyote,
+coming near and hearing, thought: “Now that
+is the very song I need to put my <i>óo-un</i> to
+sleep.” And following the sound he came to
+the tree, and found Cheech-wée-deh at work.
+But she had stopped singing.</p>
+
+<p>“Locust-friend,” said he, “come teach me that
+song, so that I can soothe my children to sleep.”
+But the Locust did not move to answer; and
+he repeated:</p>
+
+<p>“Locust-friend, come teach me that song.”</p>
+
+<p>Still she did not answer, and the Coyote,
+losing his patience, said:</p>
+
+<p>“Locust, if you don’t teach me that song, I
+will eat you up!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>85]</span>
+At that, the Locust showed him the song,
+and he sang with her until he knew how.</p>
+
+<p>“Now I know it, thank you,” he said. “So I
+will go home and sing it to my children, and
+they will sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>So he went. But as he came to a pool, half-way
+home, a flock of Afraids-of-the-Water<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> flew
+up at his very nose, and drove out his memory.
+He went looking around, turning over the stones
+and peeping in the grass; but he could not find
+the song anywhere. So he started back at last
+to get the Locust to teach him again.</p>
+
+<p>But while he was yet far, the Locust saw him,
+so she shed her skin, leaving a dry husk, as snakes
+do, and filled it with sand. Then she made it to sit
+up, and put the molding-spoon in its hands, and
+the clay jars in front of it; and she herself flew up
+into the tree.</p>
+
+<p>Coming, the Coyote said: “Friend Locust, show
+that song again; for I got scared, and the song
+was driven out of me.” But there was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>“Hear, Locust! I will ask just once more; and if
+you do not show me the song, I’ll swallow you!”</p>
+
+<p>Still she did not reply; and the Coyote, being
+angry, swallowed the stuffed skin, sand, spoon, and
+all, and started homeward, saying: “<em>Now</em> I think
+I have that song in me!”</p>
+
+<p>But when he was half-way home he stopped and
+struck himself, and said: “What a fool, truly! For
+now I am going home without a song. But if I
+had left the Locust alive, and bothered her long
+enough, she would have shown me. I think now
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>86]</span>
+I will take her out, to see if she will not sing for
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>So he ran all around, hunting for a black thunder-knife,<a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a>
+and singing:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">Where can I find Shée-eh-fóon?</div>
+    <div class="i0">Where can I find Shée-eh-fóon?</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>At last he found a large piece of the black-rock,
+and broke it until he got a knife. He made a mark
+on his breast with his finger, saying: “Here I will
+cut, and take her out.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he cut. “Mercy!” said he, “but it bites!”
+He cut again, harder. “Goodness! but how it
+bites!” he cried, very loud. And cutting a third
+time, he fell down and died. So he did not learn
+the song of the pottery-making.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">The Quères Pueblos have exactly the same
+folk-story, except that they make the Horned
+Toad, instead of the Locust, the music-teacher. In
+their version, the Horned Toad, after being swallowed,
+kills the Coyote by lifting its spines. Remembering
+what I have said of the maker of the
+thunder-knives, you will readily see the analogy
+between this and the obsidian splinter of the Tée-wahn
+story. It is, indeed, one of the most characteristic
+and instructive examples of the manner in
+which a folk-story becomes changed.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">[48]</a> The ironical Tée-wahn name for ducks.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">[49]</a> One of obsidian, or volcanic glass.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>87]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm18" style="max-width: 40.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm18.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Magic Hide-and-seek">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap13">XIII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MAGIC HIDE-AND-SEEK</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapi02.jpg" width="152" height="353" alt="I">
+</div>
+<p> FANCY I must have been dozing after
+that hard ride; for when a far-away,
+cracked voice that could be none other
+than Grandfather Ysidro’s said, “<i>Kah-whee-cá-me,
+Lorenso-kaí-deh!</i>” I started
+up so hastily as to bump my head
+against the whitewashed wall. That
+may seem a queer sentence to rouse
+one so sharply; and especially when
+you know what it means. It meant
+that old Ysidro<a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> had just finished a
+story, which I had altogether missed, and was now
+calling upon the old man next him to tell one, by
+using the customary Pueblo saying:</p>
+
+<p>“There is a tail to you, Father Lorenso!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>88]</span>
+<i>Kah-whee-cá-me</i> is what a Teé-wahn Indian always
+says in such a case, instead of “Now <em>you</em> tell
+a story, friend.” It is not intended as an impolite
+remark, but merely refers to the firm belief of these
+quaint people that if one were to act like a stubborn
+donkey, and refuse to tell a story when called
+on, a donkey’s tail would grow upon him!</p>
+
+<p>With such a fate in prospect, you may be sure
+that the roundabout invitation thus conveyed is
+never declined.</p>
+
+<p>Grandfather Lorenso bows his head gravely,
+but seems in no haste. He is indeed impressively
+deliberate as he slowly makes a cigarette from a
+bit of corn-husk and a pinch of tobacco, lights it
+upon a coal raked out of the fireplace by his
+withered fingers, blows a slow puff eastward, then
+one to the north, another to the west, a fourth to
+the south, one straight above his head, and one
+down toward the floor. There is one part of the
+United States where the compass has <em>six</em> cardinal
+points (those I have just named), and that is among
+these Indians, and in fact all the others of the
+Southwest. The cigarette plays a really important
+part in many sacred ceremonies of the
+Pueblos; for, as I have explained, its collective
+smoke is thought to be what makes the rain-clouds
+and brings the rain; and it is also a charm
+against witches.</p>
+
+<p>Having thus propitiated the divinities who dwell
+in the directions named, Lorenso looks about the
+circle to see if all are listening. The glance satisfies
+him—as well it may. There are no heedless
+eyes or ears in the audience, of which I am the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>89]</span>
+only white member—and a very lucky one, in
+that I, an “Americano,” am allowed to hear these
+jealously guarded stories, and to see the silent
+smoke-prayer which would never be made if a
+stranger were present. There are seven agèd
+men here, and nine bright-eyed boys—all <i>Isleteños</i>
+(inhabitants of Isleta). We are huddled
+around the fireplace in the corner of the big,
+pleasant room, against whose dark rafters and
+farther white walls the shadows dance and waver.</p>
+
+<p>And now, taking a deep puff, Lorenso exclaims:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Nah-t’ hóo-ai!</i>” (In a house.) It has nothing
+to do with the story; but is the prologue to inform
+the hearers that the story is about to open.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah-h-h!” we all responded, which is as much
+as to say, “We are listening—go on”; and Lorenso
+begins his story.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Once upon a time there was a Teé-wahn village
+on the other side of the mountain, and there lived
+a man and his wife who thought more of the future
+of their children than did the others. To care
+better for the children they moved to a little ranch
+some distance from the village, and there taught
+their two little sons all they could. Both boys
+loved the outdoors, and games, and hunting; and
+the parents were well pleased, saying to each
+other:</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps some day they will be great hunters!”</p>
+
+<p>By the time the elder boy was twelve and the
+younger ten, they both were very expert with the
+little bows and arrows their father carefully made
+them; and already they began to bring home many
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>90]</span>
+rabbits when they were allowed to go a little way
+from home. There was only one command their
+parents gave about their hunts; and that was that
+they must never, never go south. They could
+hunt to the east, north, and west, but not south.</p>
+
+<p>Day after day they went hunting, and more
+and more rabbits they killed, growing always more
+expert.</p>
+
+<p>One day when they had hunted eastward, the
+elder boy said:</p>
+
+<p>“Brother, can you say any reason why we must
+not go south?”</p>
+
+<p>“I know nothing,” replied the younger, “except
+what I overheard our parents saying one day.
+They spoke of an old woman who lives in the
+south who eats children; and for that they said
+they would never let us go south.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pooh!” said the elder, “I think nothing of <em>that</em>.
+The real reason must be that they wish to save the
+rabbits in the south, and are afraid we would kill
+them all. There must be many rabbits in that
+<i>bosque</i> [forest] away down there. Let’s go and
+see—<em>they</em> won’t know!”</p>
+
+<p>The younger boy being persuaded, they started
+off together, and after a long walk came to the
+<i>bosque</i>. It was full of rabbits, and they were
+having great sport, when suddenly they heard a
+motherly voice calling through the woods. In a
+moment they saw an old woman coming from the
+south, who said to the boys:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Mah-kóo-oon</i> [grandchildren], what are you
+doing here, where no one ever thinks to come?”</p>
+
+<p>“We are hunting, Grandmother,” they replied.
+“Our parents would never let us come south; but
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>91]</span>
+to-day we came to see if the rabbits are more numerous
+here than above.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” said the old woman, “this game you see
+here is <em>nothing</em>. Come, and I will show you where
+there is much, and you can carry very large rabbits
+home to your parents.” But she was deceiving
+them.</p>
+
+<p>She had a big basket upon her back, and stooping
+for the boys to get into it, she carried them
+farther and farther into the woods. At last they
+came to an old, battered house; and setting the
+basket down, she said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now we have come all the way here, where no
+one ever came before, and there is no way out.
+You can find no trail, and you will have to stay
+here contented, or I will eat you up!”</p>
+
+<p>The boys were much afraid, and said they would
+stay and be contented. But the old woman went
+into the house and told her husband—who was as
+wicked as she—to get wood and build a big fire
+in the <i>horno</i>.<a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> All day long the fire burned, and
+the oven became hotter than it had ever been. In
+the evening the old witch-woman raked out the
+coals, and calling the boys seized them and forced
+them into the fiery oven.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">“<i>Tahb-kóon-nahm?</i>” (Is that so?) we all exclaimed—that
+being the proper response whenever
+the narrator pauses a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“That is so,” replied Lorenso, and went on.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Then the old woman put a flat rock over the
+little door of the oven, and another over the smoke-hole,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>92]</span>
+and sealed them both tight with clay. All
+that night she and her husband were chuckling to
+think what a nice breakfast they would have—for
+both of them were witch-people, and ate all
+the children they could find.</p>
+
+<p>But in the morning when she unsealed the oven,
+there were the two boys, laughing and playing together
+unhurt—for the Wháy-nin<a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> had come to
+their aid and protected them from the heat.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the boys to crawl out, the old woman
+ran to the house and scolded the old man terribly
+for not having made the oven hot enough. “Go
+this minute,” she said, “and put in the oven all the
+wood that it will hold, and keep it burning all
+day!”</p>
+
+<p>When night came, the old woman cleaned the
+oven, which was twice as hot as before; and again
+she put in the boys and sealed it up. But the next
+morning the boys were unhurt and went to playing.</p>
+
+<p>The witch-woman was very angry then; and giving
+the boys their bows and arrows, told them to
+go and play. She stayed at home and abused the
+old witch-man all day for a poor fire-maker.</p>
+
+<p>When the boys returned in the evening, she said:</p>
+
+<p>“To-morrow, grandchildren, we will play <i>Nah-oo-p’ah-chée</i>
+(hide-and-seek), and the one who is found
+three times by the other shall pay his life.”</p>
+
+<p>The boys agreed,<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> and secretly prayed to the
+Trues to help them—for by this time they knew
+that the old man and the old woman “had the bad
+road.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>93]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp53" id="mwmm19" style="max-width: 35.8125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm19.jpg" alt="The boys hide by the door">
+</figure>
+
+<p>The next day came;
+and very soon the old
+woman called them to
+begin the game. The
+boys were to hide first;
+and when the old woman
+had turned her eyes and
+vowed not to look, they
+went to the door and
+hid, one against each of
+its jambs. There you
+could look and look, and
+see the wood through
+them—for the Trues, to
+help them, made them
+invisible. When they
+were safely hidden they
+whooped, “<i>Hee-táh!</i>”
+and the old woman began
+to hunt, singing the
+hide-and-seek song:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Hee-táh yahn</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Hee choo-ah-kóo</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Mee, mee, mee?</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">(Now, now,</div>
+    <div class="i0">Which way</div>
+    <div class="i0">Went they, went they, went they?)</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>94]</span>
+After hunting some time she called:</p>
+
+<p>“You little fellows are on the door-posts. Come
+out!”</p>
+
+<p>So the boys came out and “made blind” (covered
+their eyes) while the old woman went to hide.
+There was a pond close by, with many ducks on
+it; and making herself very little, she went and hid
+under the left wing of the duck with a blue head.<a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p>
+
+<p>When they heard her “<i>Hee-táh!</i>” the boys
+went searching and singing; and at last the elder
+cried out:</p>
+
+<p>“Old woman, you are under the left wing of the
+whitest duck on the lake—the one with the blue
+head. Come out!”</p>
+
+<p>This time the boys made themselves small and
+crawled into the quivers beside their bows and arrows.
+The old woman had to sing her song over
+a great many times, as she went hunting all
+around; but at last she called:</p>
+
+<p>“Come out of the quivers where you are!”</p>
+
+<p>Then the witch made herself very small indeed,
+and went behind the foot of a big crane that was
+standing on one leg near the lake. But at last
+the boys found her even there.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="mwmm20" style="max-width: 34.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm20.jpg" id="fig14" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“THE WITCH MADE HERSELF VERY SMALL, AND WENT BEHIND THE FOOT OF A BIG CRANE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>It was their last turn now, and the old woman
+felt very triumphant as she waited for them to hide.
+But this time they went up and hid themselves
+under the right arm of the Sun.<a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> The old witch
+hunted everywhere, and used all her bad power,
+but in vain; and when she was tired out she had
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>97]</span>
+to cry, “<i>Hee-táh-ow!</i>” And then the boys came
+down from under the Sun’s arm rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>The old witch, taking her last turn, went to the
+lake and entered into a fish, thinking that there
+she would be perfectly safe from discovery. It did
+take the boys a great while to find her; but at last
+they shouted:</p>
+
+<p>“Old woman, you are in the biggest fish in the
+lake. Come out!”</p>
+
+<p>As she came walking toward them in her natural
+shape again, they called: “Remember the agreement!”
+and with their sharp arrows they killed
+the old witch-woman and then the old witch-man.
+Then they took away the two wicked old hearts,
+and put in place of each a kernel of spotless corn;
+so that if the witches should ever come to life
+again they would no longer be witches, but people
+with pure, good hearts. They never did come to
+life, however, which was just as well.</p>
+
+<p>Taking their bows and arrows, the boys—now
+young men, for the four “days” they had been
+with the witches were really four years—returned
+home. At the village they found their anxious
+parents, who had come to ask the Cacique to order
+all the people out to search.</p>
+
+<p>When all saw the boys and heard their story,
+there was great rejoicing, for those two witch-people
+had been terrors to the village for years. On
+their account no one had dared go hunting to the
+south. And to this day the game is thicker there
+than anywhere else in the country, because it has
+not been hunted there for so long as in other places.
+The two young men were forgiven for disobedience
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>98]</span>
+(which is a very serious thing at any age, among
+the Pueblos), and were made heroes. The Cacique
+gave them his two daughters for wives, and all
+the people did them honor.<a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">“Is that so?” we responded; and Lorenso replied,
+“That is so,” gathering his blanket and rising
+to go without “putting a tail” to any one, for it
+was already late.</p>
+
+<p>I may add that the game of hide-and-seek is still
+played by my dusky little neighbors, the Pueblo
+children, and the searching-song is still sung by
+them, exactly as the boys and the old witch played
+and sang—but of course without their magical
+talent at hiding.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">[50]</a> Pronounced Ee-seé-droh.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">[51]</a> An outdoor bake-oven, made of clay, and shaped like a beehive.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">[52]</a> “The Trues,” as the Pueblos call their highest divinities.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">[53]</a> For such a challenge, which was once a common one with the Indians,
+could not possibly be declined.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">[54]</a> I should tell you that, being a witch, she could not possibly have gone
+under the right wing. Everything that is to the left belongs to the witches.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">[55]</a> Who is, in the Pueblo belief, the father of all things.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">[56]</a> This story seems to be one of the myths about the Hero Twin Brothers,
+the children of the Sun. They are, next to Sun-Father and Moon-Mother,
+the chief deities of all the southwestern tribes. In the Quères folk-lore they
+figure very prominently; but in the Tée-wahn are more disguised.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>99]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap14">XIV<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE RACE OF THE TAILS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">N</span>EARLY every people has its own version of
+the race of the Hare and the Tortoise. That
+current among the Pueblos makes the Rabbit the
+hero, by a trick rather cleverer than Æsop’s.</p>
+
+<p>Once the Coyote came where Pee-oo-ée-deh,
+the little “cotton-tail” rabbit, sat at the door of
+his house, thinking.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you think, friend Pee-oo-ée-deh?”
+said the Coyote.</p>
+
+<p>“I am thinking, friend Too-wháy-deh, why some
+have large tails like you; but we have no tails.
+Perhaps if we had tails like yours, we could run
+straight; but now we have to hop.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is true, <i>ah-bóo</i>,”<a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> said the Coyote, not knowing
+that the Rabbit laughed in his heart. “For I
+can run faster than any one, and never did any
+gain from me in the foot-races. But <em>you</em>,—you just
+hop like a bird.”</p>
+
+<p>The Rabbit made a sad face, and the Coyote
+said: “But come, friend Pee-oo-ée-deh, let us run
+a race. We will run around the world, and see
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>100]</span>
+who will win. And whichever shall come in first,
+he shall kill the other and eat him.”<a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” answered the Rabbit. “In four
+days we will run.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Coyote went home very glad. But
+Pee-oo-ée-deh called a <i>junta</i> of all his tribe, and
+told them how it was, and the way he thought to
+win the race. And when they had heard, they all
+said: “It is well. Fear not, for we will be the ones
+that will help you.”</p>
+
+<p>When the fourth day came, the Coyote arrived
+smiling, and threw down his blanket, and stood
+ready in only the dark blue <i>taparabo</i>,<a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> saying:
+“But what is the use to run? For I shall win. It
+is better that I eat you now, before you are tired.”</p>
+
+<p>But the Rabbit threw off his blanket, and tightened
+his <i>taparabo</i>, and said: “Pooh! For the end
+of the race is far away, and <em>there</em> is time to talk of
+eating. Come, we will run around the four sides
+of the world.<a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> But <em>I</em> shall run underground, for
+so it is easier for me.”</p>
+
+<p>Then they stood up side by side. And when
+they were ready, the Capitan shouted “<i>Haí-koo!</i>”
+and they ran. The Coyote ran with all his legs;
+but the Rabbit jumped into his hole and threw out
+sand, as those who dig very fast.</p>
+
+<p>Now for many days the Coyote kept running to
+the east, and saw nothing of Pee-oo-ée-deh. But
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>101]</span>
+just as he came to the east and was turning to the
+north, up jumped a rabbit from under the ground
+in front of him, and shouted: “We do this to one
+another”; and jumped back in the hole and began
+to throw out dirt very hard.</p>
+
+<p>“Ai!” said the Coyote. “I wish I could run
+under the ground like that, for it seems very easy.
+For all these days I have run faster than ever any
+one ran; yet Pe-oo-ée-deh comes to the east
+ahead of me.” But he did not know it was the
+brother of Pee-oo-ée-deh, who had come out to
+the east to wait for him.</p>
+
+<p>So Too-wháy-deh ran harder; and after many
+days he came to the end of the world, to the
+north. But just as he was to turn west, up
+sprang a rabbit in front of him, and taunted him,
+and went back in its hole, digging.</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote’s heart was heavy, but he ran <em>very</em>
+hard. “Surely,” he said, “no one can run so fast
+as <em>this</em>.”</p>
+
+<p>But when he came to the west, a rabbit sprang
+up ahead of him, and mocked him, and went again
+under the ground. And when he had run to the
+south, there was the same thing. At last, very
+tired and with his tongue out, he came in sight of
+the starting-point, and there was Pee-oo-ée-deh,
+sitting at the door of his house, smoothing his hair.
+And he said: “Pooh! Coyote-friend, we do this to
+one another. For now it is clear that big tails are
+not good to run with, since I have been waiting
+here a long time for you. Come here, then, that I
+may eat you, though you are tough.”</p>
+
+<p>But Too-wháy-deh, being a coward, ran away and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>102]</span>
+would not pay his bet. And all the brothers of
+Pee-oo-ée-deh laughed for the trick they had put
+upon the Coyote.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">In a case which I knew of, years ago, this folk-story
+seems to have given a hint to human racers.
+A Mexican who owned a large and very fleet-footed
+burro, challenged a young Indian of Acoma
+to a ten-mile race. The Indian was a very famous
+runner, and the challenger depended on the distance
+alone to wear him out. In accordance with
+the conditions the rivals started together from
+the goal, the Indian on foot, the Mexican on his
+burro. For about four miles the Indian left the
+galloping donkey far behind; but he could not
+keep up such a tremendous pace, and the burro began
+to gain. About midway of the course where
+the trail touches a great lava-flow, the Indian dove
+into a cave. Just as the Mexican was passing, out
+came an Indian, passed the burro with a magnificent
+spurt, and after a long run reached the farther
+goal about a hundred feet ahead. Unfortunately
+for him, however, the trick was detected—he was
+the twin brother of the challenged man, and had
+awaited him in the cave, taking up the race fresh
+when the first runner was tired!</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">[57]</a> Poor thing.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">[58]</a> A challenge of this sort, with life as the stake, was very common
+among all Indians; and it was impossible for the challenged to decline. This
+story recalls that of the Antelope Boy. Four days always elapsed between
+the challenge and the race.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">[59]</a> Breech-clout, which is the only thing worn in a foot-race.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">[60]</a> Which the Pueblos believe to be flat and square.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>103]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap15">XV<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">HONEST BIG-EARS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">N</span>EARLY all of you have seen pictures of the
+Burro, the quaint little donkey of the Southwest.
+He is very small,—not more than half the
+weight of a smallish mule,—but very strong, very
+sure-footed, and very reliable. And he is one of
+the drollest, “cutest,” wisest-looking creatures on
+earth.</p>
+
+<p>T’ah-hlá-a-hloon, or Big-ears, as the Tée-wahn
+call him, does not appear very often in their folk-lore—and
+for a very natural reason. Most of
+these myths were made centuries before a white
+man ever saw this country; and until Europeans
+came, there were neither horses, donkeys, sheep,
+goats, cats, nor cattle (except the buffalo) in either
+America. It was the Spanish pioneers who gave
+all these animals to the Pueblos. Nor did the Indians
+have milk, cheese, wheat, or metals of any
+sort. So when we see a story in which any of
+these things are mentioned, we may know that it
+was made within the last three hundred and fifty
+years—or that an old story has been modified to
+include them.</p>
+
+<p>There is one of these comparatively modern
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>104]</span>
+nursery-tales which is designed to show the honesty
+and wisdom of the Burro.</p>
+
+<p>Once Big-ears was coming alone from the farm
+of his master to Isleta, carrying a load of curd
+cheeses done up in buckskin bags. As he came
+through the hills he met a Coyote, who said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Big-ears, what do you carry on your
+back?”</p>
+
+<p>“I carry many cheeses for my master, friend
+Too-wháy-deh,” answered the Burro.</p>
+
+<p>“Then give me one, friend, for I am hunger-dying.”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said the Burro, “I cannot give you one,
+for my master would blame me—since they are
+not mine but his, and a man of the pueblo waits
+for them.”</p>
+
+<p>Many times the Coyote asked him, with soft
+words; but Big-ears would not, and went his way.
+Then Too-wháy-deh followed him behind, without
+noise, and slyly bit the bag and stole a cheese.
+But Big-ears did not know it, for he could not see
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>When he came to the pueblo, the man who
+awaited him unloaded the cheeses and counted
+them. “There lacks one,” he said; “for thy master
+said he would send <em>so</em> many. Where is the other?”</p>
+
+<p>“Truly, I know not,” answered Big-ears, “but
+I think Too-wháy-deh stole it; for he asked me
+on the way to give him a cheese. But wait—I
+will pay him!”</p>
+
+<p>So Big-ears went back to the hills and looked
+for the house of Too-wháy-deh. At last he found
+it, but the Coyote was nowhere. So he lay down
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>105]</span>
+near the hole, and stretched his legs out as if dead,
+and opened his mouth wide, and was very still.</p>
+
+<p>Time passing so, the Old-Woman-Coyote came
+out of the house to bring a jar of water. But
+when she saw the Burro lying there, she dropped
+her <i>tinaja</i>, and ran in crying:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Hloo-hli!</i><a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> come out and see! For a <em>buffalo</em>
+has died out here, and we must take in some meat.”</p>
+
+<p>So Old-Man-Coyote came out, and was very
+glad, and began to sharpen his knife.</p>
+
+<p>But his wife said: “But before you cut him up,
+get me the liver, for I am very hungry”—and the
+liver is that which all the foxes like best.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Old-Man-Coyote, thinking to please
+her, went into the Burro’s mouth to get the liver;
+but Big-ears shut his teeth on Too-wháy-deh’s
+head, and jumped up and ran home. The Old-Woman-Coyote
+followed running, crying: “<i>Ay,
+Nana!</i> Let go!” But Big-ears would not listen
+to her, and brought the thief to his master.
+When the master heard what had been, he killed
+the Coyote, and thanked Big-ears, and gave him
+much grass. And this is why, ever since, Big-ears
+strikes with his hind feet if anything comes
+behind him slyly; for he remembers how Too-wháy-deh
+stole the cheese.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">[61]</a> Old Man.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>106]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap16">XVI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE FEATHERED BARBERS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE coyote, one summer day, having taken a
+bath in the river, lay down in the hot sand to dry
+himself. While he was sleeping there, a crowd of
+Quails came along; and seeing that he was asleep,
+they said:</p>
+
+<p>“Huh! Here is that foolish Too-wháy-deh. Let
+us give him a trick!”</p>
+
+<p>So they cut off all his hair, which makes one to
+be laughed at, and ran away.</p>
+
+<p>When the Coyote woke up he was ashamed,
+and wished to punish those who had made him
+<i>pelado</i>; and he ran around to see if he could find
+the tracks of an enemy. There were only the
+tracks of the Quails, so he knew they had done it.
+Very angry, he followed the trail until it went into
+a large hole. He went all around to see if they
+had come out; but there were no other tracks,
+so he went in. First the hole was big, but then
+it grew small, and he had to dig. When he had
+dug a long time, he caught a Quail, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Ho, Ch’um-níd-deh! It is you that cut my hair
+and left me a laughed-at. But I am going to eat
+you this very now!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>107]</span>
+“No, friend Too-wháy-deh, it was another who
+did it. You will find him farther in, with the scissors<a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>
+still in his hand.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Coyote let that Quail go, and dug and dug
+till he caught another. But that one said the same
+thing; and Too-wháy-deh let him go, and dug
+after the next one. So it was, until he had let
+them all go, one by one; and when he came to the
+very end of the hole, there were no more.</p>
+
+<p>With this, the Coyote was very angry, and ran
+out of the hole, promising to catch and eat them
+all. As he came out he met the Cotton-tail, and
+cried with a fierce face:</p>
+
+<p>“Hear, you Pee-oo-ée-deh! If you don’t catch
+me the Ch’úm-nin that cut my hair, I’ll eat <em>you</em>!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I can catch them, friend Coyote,” said the
+Rabbit. “See, here is their trail!”</p>
+
+<p>When they had followed the trail a long way,
+they saw the birds sitting and laughing under a
+bush.</p>
+
+<p>“Now you wait here while I go and catch them,”
+said Pee-oo-ée-deh. So the Coyote sat down to
+rest. As soon as the Rabbit was near them, the
+Quails flew a little way, and he kept running after
+them. But as soon as they were over a little hill,
+he turned aside and ran home, and the Coyote
+never knew if the Quails were caught or not.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">[62]</a> This indicates that the tale is comparatively modern.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>108]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm21" style="max-width: 40em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm21.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Accursed Lake">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap17">XVII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE ACCURSED LAKE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapa02.jpg" width="276" height="311" alt="A">
+</div>
+<p>WAY to the southeast of the Manzano
+Mountains, two days’ journey
+from my pueblo of Isleta,
+are the shallow salt lakes. For
+scores of miles their dazzling
+sheen is visible—a strange
+patch of silver on the vast
+brown plains. They are
+near the noblest ruins in our
+North America—the wondrous
+piles of massive masonry
+of Abó, Cuaray, and the so-called “Gran
+Quivira”—the latter the home of the silliest delusion
+that ever lured treasure-hunters to their death.
+The whole region has a romantic history, and is important
+to the scientific student. From that locality
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>109]</span>
+came, centuries ago, part of the people who then
+founded Isleta, and whose descendants dwell here
+to this day. Perhaps you would like to know <em>why</em>
+those lakes are salt now—for my Indian neighbors
+say that once they were fresh and full of fish, and
+that the deer and buffalo came from all the country
+round to drink there. The story is very important
+ethnologically, for it tells much of the strange secret
+religion of the Pueblos, and more concerning
+the method of initiating a young Indian into one
+of the orders of medicine-men—both matters which
+men of science have found extremely difficult to
+be learned. Here is the story as it is believed by
+the Tée-wahn, and as it was related to me by one
+of them.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Long ago there was still a village east of Shoo-paht-hóo-eh,
+the Eagle-Feather (Manzano) Mountains,
+and in it lived a famous hunter. One day,
+going out on the plains to the east, he stalked a
+herd of antelopes, and wounded one with his arrows.
+It fled eastward, while the herd went south;
+and the hunter began to trail it by the drops of
+blood. Presently he came to the largest lake, into
+which the trail led. As he stood on the bank, wondering
+what to do, a fish thrust its head from the
+water and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Hunter, you are on dangerous ground!”
+and off it went swimming. Before the Hunter
+could recover from his surprise, a Lake-Man came
+up out of the water and said:</p>
+
+<p>“How is it that you are here, where no human
+ever came?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>110]</span>
+The Hunter told his story, and the Lake-Man
+invited him to come in. When he had entered the
+lake, he came to a house with doors to the east,
+north, west, and south, and a trap-door in the roof,
+with a ladder; and by the latter door they entered.
+In their talk together the Lake-Man learned that
+the Hunter had a wife and little son at home.</p>
+
+<p>“If that is so,” said he, “why do you not come
+and live with me? I am here alone, and have
+plenty of other food, but I am no hunter. We
+could live very well here together.” And opening
+doors on four sides of the room he showed the
+Hunter four other huge rooms, all piled from floor
+to ceiling with corn and wheat and dried squash
+and the like.</p>
+
+<p>“That is a very good offer,” said the astonished
+Hunter. “I will come again in four days; and if my
+Cacique will let me, I will bring my family and stay.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Hunter went home—killing an antelope
+on the way—and told his wife all. She thought
+very well of the offer; and he went to ask permission
+of the Cacique. The Cacique demurred, for
+this was the best hunter in all the pueblo,<a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> but at
+last consented and gave him his blessing.</p>
+
+<p>So on the fourth day the Hunter and his wife
+and little boy came to the lake with all their property.
+The Lake-Man met them cordially, and gave
+the house and all its contents into the charge of the
+woman.<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp47" id="mwmm22" style="max-width: 28em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm22.jpg" id="fig15" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE HUNTER AND THE LAKE-MAN.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Some time passed very pleasantly, the Hunter
+going out daily and bringing back great quantities
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>113]</span>
+of game. At last the Lake-Man, who was of an
+evil heart, pretended to show the Hunter something
+in the east room; and pushing him in, locked
+the great door and left him there to starve—for
+the room was full of the bones of men whom he
+had already entrapped in the same way.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was now big enough to use his bow
+and arrows so well that he brought home many
+rabbits; and the witch-hearted Lake-Man began
+to plot to get him, too, out of the way.</p>
+
+<p>So one morning when the boy was about to
+start for a hunt, he heard his mother groaning as
+if about to die; and the Lake-Man said to him:</p>
+
+<p>“My boy, your mother has a terrible pain, and
+the only thing that will cure her is some ice from
+T’hoor-p’ah-whée-ai [Lake of the Sun],<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> the water
+from which the sun rises.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then,” said the boy, straightway, “if that is so,
+I will take the heart of a man [that is, be brave]
+and go and get the ice for my little mother.” And
+away he started toward the unknown east.</p>
+
+<p>Far out over the endless brown plains he trudged
+bravely; until at last he came to the house of Shee-chóo-hlee-oh,
+the Old-Woman-Mole, who was there
+all alone—for her husband had gone to hunt.
+They were dreadfully poor, and the house was almost
+falling down, and the poor, wrinkled Old-Woman-Mole
+sat huddled in the corner by the
+fireplace, trying to keep warm by a few dying
+coals. But when the boy knocked, she rose and
+welcomed him kindly and gave him all there was
+in the house to eat—a wee bowl of soup with a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>114]</span>
+patched-up snowbird in it. The boy was very
+hungry, and picking up the snowbird bit a big
+piece out of it.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my child!” cried the old woman, beginning
+to weep. “You have ruined me! For my husband
+trapped that bird these many years ago, but we
+could never get another; and that is all we have
+had to eat ever since. So we never bit it, but
+cooked it over and over and drank the broth. And
+now not even that is left.” And she wept bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Grandmother, do not worry,” said the
+boy. “Have you any long hairs?”—for he saw
+many snowbirds lighting near by.</p>
+
+<p>“No, my child,” said the old woman sadly.
+“There is no other living animal here, and you
+are the first human that ever came here.”</p>
+
+<p>But the boy pulled out some of his own long
+hair and made snares, and soon caught many birds.
+Then the Old-Woman-Mole was full of joy; and
+having learned his errand, she said:</p>
+
+<p>“My son, fear not, for I will be the one that shall
+help you. When you come into the house of the
+Trues, they will tempt you with a seat; but you
+must sit down only on what you have.<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> Then they
+will try you with smoking the <i>weer</i>, but I will help you.”</p>
+
+<p>Then she gave him her blessing, and the boy
+started away to the east. At last, after a weary,
+weary way, he came so near the Sun Lake, that
+the <i>Whit-lah-wíd-deh</i><a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> of the Trues saw him coming,
+and went in to report.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>115]</span>
+“Let him be brought in,” said the Trues; and
+the Whit-lah-wíd-deh took the boy in and in
+through eight rooms, until he stood in the presence
+of all the gods, in a vast room. There were all the
+gods of the East, whose color is white, and the
+blue gods of the North, the yellow gods of the
+West, the red gods of the South, and the rainbow-colored
+gods of the Up, the Down, and the
+Center, all in human shape. Beyond their seats
+were all the sacred animals—the buffalo, the bear,
+the eagle, the badger, the mountain lion, the rattlesnake,
+and all the others that are powerful in
+medicine.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Trues bade the boy sit down, and
+offered him a white <i>manta</i> (robe) for a seat; but
+he declined respectfully, saying that he had been
+taught, when in the presence of his elders, to sit
+on nothing save what he brought, and he sat upon
+his blanket and moccasins. When he had told his
+story, the Trues tried him, and gave him the sacred
+<i>weer</i> to smoke—a hollow reed rammed with <i>pee-en-hleh</i>.<a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>
+He smoked, and held the smoke bravely.
+But just then the Old-Woman-Mole, who had followed
+him underground all this way, dug a hole
+up to his very toes; and the smoke went down
+through his feet into the hole, and away back to
+the Old-Woman-Mole’s house, where it poured out
+in a great cloud. And not the tiniest particle escaped
+into the room of the Trues. He finished
+the second <i>weer</i><a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> without being sick at all; and the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>116]</span>
+Trues said, “Yes, he is our son. But we will try
+him once more.” So they put him into the room
+of the East with the bear and the lion; and the
+savage animals came forward and breathed on him,
+but would not hurt him. Then they put him into
+the room of the North, with the eagle and the
+hawk; then into the room of the West, with the
+snakes; and lastly, into the room of the South,
+where were the Apaches and all the other human
+enemies of his people. And from each room he
+came forth unscratched.</p>
+
+<p>“Surely,” said the Trues, “this is our son! But
+once more we will try him.”</p>
+
+<p>They had a great pile of logs built up (“cob-house”
+fashion), and the space between filled with
+pine-knots. Then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh set the
+boy on the top of the pile and lighted it.</p>
+
+<p>But in the morning, when the guard went out,
+there was the boy unharmed and saying: “Tell
+the Trues I am cold, and would like more fire.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he was brought again before the Trues,
+who said: “Son, you have proved yourself a True
+Believer, and now you shall have what you seek.”</p>
+
+<p>So the sacred ice was given him, and he started
+homeward—stopping on the way only to thank
+the Old-Woman-Mole, to whose aid he owed his
+success.</p>
+
+<p>When the wicked Lake-Man saw the boy coming,
+he was very angry, for he had never expected
+him to return from that dangerous mission. But
+he deceived the boy and the woman; and in a few
+days made a similar excuse to send the boy to the
+gods of the South after more ice for his mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>117]</span>
+The boy started off as bravely as before. When
+he had traveled a great way to the south, he came
+to a drying lake; and there, dying in the mud,
+was a little fish.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ah-bóo</i> [poor thing], little fish,” said the boy;
+and picking it up, he put it in his gourd canteen
+of water. After awhile he came to a good lake;
+and as he sat down to eat his lunch the fish in his
+gourd said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Boy, let me swim while you eat, for
+I love the water.”</p>
+
+<p>So he put the fish in the lake; and when he was
+ready to go on, the fish came to him, and he put
+it back in his gourd. At three lakes he let the fish
+swim while he ate; and each time the fish came
+back to him. But beyond the third lake began a
+great forest which stretched clear across the world,
+and was so dense with thorns and brush that no
+man could pass it. But as the boy was wondering
+what he should do, the tiny fish changed itself
+into a great Fish-Animal with a very hard, strong
+skin,<a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> and bidding the boy mount upon its back, it
+went plowing through the forest, breaking down
+big trees like stubble, and bringing him through
+to the other side without a scratch.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Friend Boy,” said the Fish-Animal,
+“you saved my life, and I will be the one that
+shall help you. When you come to the house
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>118]</span>
+of the Trues, they will try you as they did in
+the East. And when you have proved yourself,
+the Cacique will bring you his three daughters,
+from whom to choose you a wife. The two
+eldest are very beautiful, and the youngest is
+not; but you ought to choose her, for beauty
+does not always reach to the heart.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy thanked his fish-friend and went on,
+until at last he came to the house of the Trues of
+the South. There they tried him with the <i>weer</i>
+and the fire, just as the Trues of the East had
+done, but he proved himself a man, and they gave
+him the ice. Then the Cacique brought his three
+daughters, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Son, you are now old enough to have a wife,<a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a>
+and I see that you are a true man who will dare
+all for his mother. Choose, therefore, one of my
+daughters.”</p>
+
+<p>The boy looked at the three girls; and truly the
+eldest were very lovely. But he remembered the
+words of his fish friend, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Let the youngest be my wife.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Cacique was pleased, for he loved
+this daughter more than both the others. And
+the boy and the Cacique’s daughter were married
+and started homeward, carrying the ice and many
+presents.</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the great forest, there was
+the Fish-Animal waiting for them, and taking both
+on his back he carried them safely through. At
+the first lake he bade them good-by and blessed
+them, and they trudged on alone.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>119]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp40" id="mwmm23" style="max-width: 26.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm23.jpg" id="fig16" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE CURSING OF THE LAKE.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>121]</span>
+At last they came in sight of the big lake, and
+over it were great clouds, with the forked lightning
+leaping forth. While they were yet far off, they
+could see the wicked Lake-Man sitting at the top
+of his ladder, watching to see if the boy would
+return, and even while they looked they saw the
+lightning of the Trues strike him and tear him to
+shreds.</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the lake the boy found his
+mother weeping for him as dead. And taking his
+wife and his mother,—but none of the things of
+the Lake-Man, for those were bewitched,—the boy
+came out upon the shore. There he stood and prayed
+to the Trues that the lake might be accurst forever;
+and they heard his prayer, for from that
+day its waters turned salt, and no living thing has
+drunk therefrom.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">[63]</a> All hunters give the Cacique a tenth of their game, for his support.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">[64]</a> As is the custom among all Pueblo Indians.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">[65]</a> Located “somewhere to the east”; perhaps the ocean.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">[66]</a> That is, upon his blanket and moccasins, the unvarying etiquette of the
+Medicine House.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">[67]</a> One of an order of medicine-men, who among other duties, act as guards
+of the Medicine House.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">[68]</a> The smoking of the pungent <i>weer</i> is a very severe ordeal; and it is a
+disgrace to let any of the smoke escape from the mouth or nose.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">[69]</a> Two being the usual number given a candidate for initiation into a medicine
+order.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">[70]</a> It is quite possible that this “Fish-Animal with a hard, strong skin,”
+living far to the south, is the alligator. Of course, the Pueblos never saw
+that strange saurian; but they probably heard of it in the earliest days from
+nomad tribes, and as a great scientist has pointed out, we may always depend
+upon it that there is a nucleus of truth in all these folk-myths. Such
+a strange animal, once heard of, would be very sure to figure in some story.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">[71]</a> For it must be remembered that all these travels had taken many years.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>122]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap18">XVIII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MOQUI<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> BOY AND THE EAGLE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">S</span>OME of the folk-stories told in Isleta were
+evidently invented in other pueblos, whence
+the Tée-wahn have learned them in their trading-trips.
+There is even a story from the far-off towns
+of Moqui, three hundred miles west of here and
+ninety miles from the railroad. The Moquis live
+in northeast Arizona, in strange adobe towns,<a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a>
+perched upon impregnable islands of rock, rising
+far above the bare, brown plain. They are seldom
+visited and little known by white men. All the
+other Pueblo towns and tribes have changed
+somewhat in the present era of American occupation;
+but the Moquis remain very much as they
+were when the first Spaniard found them—three
+hundred and fifty years ago. They retain
+many customs long extinct among their kindred,
+and have some of which no trace is to be found
+elsewhere. One of the minor differences, but one
+which would be almost the first to strike a stranger,
+is the absence of captive eagles in Moqui; and this
+is explained by the following folk-story:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>123]</span>
+The Eagle is Kah-báy-deh (commander) of all that
+flies, and his feathers are strongest in medicine.</p>
+
+<p>So long ago that no man can tell how long,
+there lived in Moqui an old man and an old
+woman, who had two children—a boy and a
+girl. The boy, whose name was Tái-oh, had a
+pet Eagle, of which he was very fond; and the
+Eagle loved its young master. Despite his
+youth, Tái-oh was a capital hunter; and every
+day he brought home not only rabbits enough for
+the family, but also to keep the Eagle well fed.</p>
+
+<p>One day when he was about to start on a
+hunt, he asked his sister to look out for the
+Eagle during his absence. No sooner was he
+out of sight than the girl began to upbraid the
+bird bitterly, saying: “How I hate you, for my
+brother loves you so much. If it were not for
+you, he would give me many more rabbits, but
+now you eat them up.”</p>
+
+<p>The Eagle, feeling the injustice of this, was
+angry; so when she brought him a rabbit for
+breakfast the Eagle turned his head and looked
+at it sidewise, and would not touch it. At noon,
+when she brought him his dinner, he did the
+same thing; and at night, when Tái-oh returned,
+the Eagle told him all that had happened.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the Eagle, “I am very tired of
+staying always here in Moqui, and I want to go
+home to visit my people a little. Come and go
+along with me, that you may see where the
+Eagle-people live.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” replied Tái-oh. “To-morrow
+morning we will go together.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>124]</span>
+In the morning they all went out into the
+fields, far down in the valley, to hoe their corn,
+leaving Tái-oh at home.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the Eagle, “untie this thong from
+my leg, friend, and get astride my neck, and we
+will go.”</p>
+
+<p>The string was soon untied, and Tái-oh got
+astride the neck of the great bird, which rose up
+into the air as though it carried no weight at all.
+It circled over the town a long time, and the people
+cried out with wonder and fear at seeing an Eagle
+with a boy on his back. Then they sailed out over
+the fields, where Tái-oh’s parents and his sister
+were at work; and all the three began to cry, and
+went home in great sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>The Eagle kept soaring up and up until they
+came to the very sky. There in the blue was
+a little door, through which the Eagle flew.
+Alighting on the floor of the sky, he let Tái-oh
+down from his back, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, you wait here, friend, while I go and
+see my people,” and off he flew.</p>
+
+<p>Tái-oh waited three days, and still the Eagle did
+not return; so he became uneasy and started out
+to see what he could find. After wandering a long
+way, he met an old Spider-woman.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are you going, my son?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I am trying to find my friend, the Eagle.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, then, I will help you. Come into
+my house.”</p>
+
+<p>“But how can I come into so small a door?”
+objected Tái-oh.</p>
+
+<p>“Just put your foot in, and it will open big
+enough for you to enter.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>125]</span>
+So Tái-oh put his foot in, and, sure enough, the
+door opened wide, and he went into the Spider’s
+house and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said she, “you will have some trouble
+in getting to the house of your friend, the Eagle,
+for to get there you will have to climb a dreadful
+ladder. It is well that you came to me for help,
+for that ladder is set with sharp arrow-heads and
+knives of flint, so that if you tried to go up it, it
+would cut your legs off. But I will give you this
+sack of sacred herbs to help you. When you come
+to the ladder, you must chew some of the herbs
+and spit the juice on the ladder, which will at once
+become smooth for you.”<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></p>
+
+<p>Tái-oh thanked the Spider-woman and started
+off with the sack. After awhile he came to the
+foot of a great ladder, which went away up out of
+sight. Its sides and rungs were bristling with keen
+arrow-heads, so that no living thing could climb
+it; but when Tái-oh chewed some of the magic
+herb and spat upon the ladder, all the sharp points
+fell off, and it was so smooth that he climbed it
+without a single scratch.</p>
+
+<p>After a long, long climb, he came to the top of
+the ladder, and stepped upon the roof of the Eagles’
+house. But when he came to the door he found it
+so bristling with arrow-points that whoever might
+try to enter would be cut to pieces. Again he
+chewed some of the herb, and spat upon the door;
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>126]</span>
+and at once all the points fell off, and he entered
+safely, and inside he found his Eagle-friend, and
+all the Eagle-people. His friend had fallen in love
+with an Eagle-girl and married her, and that was
+the reason he had not returned sooner.</p>
+
+<p>Tái-oh stayed there some time, being very nicely
+entertained, and enjoyed himself greatly in the
+strange sky-country. At last one of the wise old
+Eagle-men came to him and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, my son, it is well that you go home, for
+your parents are very sad, thinking you are dead.
+After this, whenever you see an Eagle caught
+and kept captive, you must let it go; for now you
+have been in our country, and know that when we
+come home we take off our feather-coats and are
+people like your own.”</p>
+
+<p>So Tái-oh went to his Eagle-friend and said he
+thought he must go home.</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” said the Eagle; “get on my neck
+and shut your eyes, and we will go.”</p>
+
+<p>So he got on, and they went down out of the
+sky, and down and down until at last they came to
+Moqui. There the Eagle let Tái-oh down among
+the wondering people, and, bidding him an affectionate
+good-by, flew off to his young wife in the
+sky.</p>
+
+<p>Tái-oh went to his home loaded down with dried
+meat and tanned buckskin, which the Eagle had
+given him; and there was great rejoicing, for all
+had given him up as dead. And this is why, to
+this very day, the Moquis will not keep an Eagle
+captive, though nearly all the other Pueblo towns
+have all the Eagle-prisoners they can get.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">[72]</a> Pronounced Móh-kee.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">[73]</a> See “Some Strange Corners of Our Country.” The Century Co., New York.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">[74]</a> This recalls a superstition of the Peruvian mountain Indians, ancient
+and modern. The latter I have often seen throwing upon a stone at the crest
+of a mountain pass the quid of coca-leaves they had been chewing. They
+believe such use of this sacred herb propitiates the spirits and keeps off the
+terrible <i>soroche</i>, or mountain-sickness; and that it also makes veins of metal
+easier to be worked—softening the stone, even as it did for Tái-oh.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>127]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap19">XIX<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE NORTH WIND AND THE SOUTH WIND</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">N</span>EARLY every nation has its folk-lore concerning
+Jack Frost and his anti-type. The cold
+North Wind is always the enemy of man, and the
+warm South Wind always his friend. The Quères
+pueblos of Acoma and Laguna have an allegorical
+folk-story, in which the good spirit of heat defeats
+his icy-hearted rival.</p>
+
+<p>Once, long ago, the <i>ta-pó-pe</i> (governor) of
+Acoma had a beautiful daughter, for whom many
+of the young men had asked in vain, for she would
+have none of them. One day there came climbing
+up the stone ladder to the cliff-built pueblo a tall
+and handsome stranger. His dress glistened with
+white crystals, and his face, though handsome, was
+very stern. The fair <i>kot-chin-á-ka</i> (chief’s daughter),
+bending at a pool in the great rock to fill her
+water-jar, saw and admired him as he came striding
+proudly to the village; and he did not fail to
+notice the dusky beauty. Soon he asked for her in
+due form; and in a little while they were to be
+married.</p>
+
+<p>But, with the coming of Shó-kee-ah—for that
+was the name of the handsome stranger—a sad
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>128]</span>
+change befell Acoma. The water froze in the
+springs and the corn withered in the fields. Every
+morning Shó-kee-ah left the town and went away
+to his home in the far North; and every evening
+he returned, and the air grew chill around. The
+people could raise no crops, for the bitter cold
+killed all that they planted, and nothing would grow
+but the thorny cactus. To keep from starving,
+they had to eat the cactus-leaves, roasting them
+first to remove the sharp thorns. One day, when
+the <i>kot-chin-á-ka</i> was roasting cactus-leaves, there
+came another handsome stranger with a sunny
+smile and stood beside her.</p>
+
+<p>“What dost thou there?” he asked; and she
+told him.</p>
+
+<p>“But do not so,” said the young man, giving her
+an ear of green corn. “Eat this, and I will bring
+thee more.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he was gone; but very soon he returned
+with such a load of green corn as the
+strongest man could not lift, and carried it to
+her house.</p>
+
+<p>“Roast this,” he said, “and when the people
+come to thee, give them each two ears, for hereafter
+there shall always be much corn.”</p>
+
+<p>She roasted the corn and gave it to the people,
+who took it eagerly, for they were starving. But
+soon Shó-kee-ah returned, and the warm, bright
+day grew suddenly cold and cloudy. As he
+put his foot on the ladder to come down into the
+house (all Pueblo rooms used to be entered only
+from the roof, and thousands are so yet) great
+flakes of snow fell around him; but Mí-o-chin,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>129]</span>
+the newcomer, made it very warm, and the
+snow melted.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said Shó-kee-ah, “we will see which is
+more powerful; and he that is shall have the <i>kot-chin-á-ka</i>.”
+Mí-o-chin accepted the challenge, and
+it was agreed that the contest should begin on the
+morrow and last three days. Mí-o-chin went to
+consult an old Spider-woman as to the best way to
+conquer his powerful rival, and she gave him the
+necessary advice.</p>
+
+<p>Next day the people all gathered to see the trial
+of strength between the two wizards. Shó-kee-ah
+“made medicine,” and caused a driving sleet and
+a bitter wind that froze all waters. But Mí-o-chin
+built a fire and heated small stones in it, and with
+them caused a warm South Wind, which melted the
+ice. On the second day, Shó-kee-ah used more
+powerful incantations, and made a deep snow to
+cover the world; but again Mí-o-chin brought his
+South Wind and chased away the snow. On the
+third day Shó-kee-ah used his strongest spell, and
+it rained great icicles, until everything was buried
+under them. But when Mí-o-chin built his fire
+and heated the stones, again the warm South Wind
+drove away the ice and dried the earth. So it
+remained to Mí-o-chin; and the defeated Shó-kee-ah
+went away to his frozen home in the North,
+leaving Mí-o-chin to live happy ever after with the
+<i>kot-chin-á-ka</i>, whom he married amid the rejoicing
+of all the people of Acoma.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>130]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap20">XX<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE TOWN OF THE SNAKE-GIRLS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the times that were farthest back, the forefathers
+of those who now dwell in Isleta were
+scattered about in many small villages. You have
+already heard the myths of how the inhabitants of
+several villages finally abandoned their homes and
+came to live in the one big town of the Tée-wahn.
+Three miles north of Isleta, amid the sandy plain
+of Los Padillas, stands the strange round mesa of
+Shee-em-tóo-ai. It is a circular “island” of hard,
+black lava, cut off from the long lava cliffs which
+wall the valley of the Rio Grande on the west. Its
+level top, of over fifty acres, is some two hundred
+feet above the plain; the last fifty feet being a
+stern and almost unbroken cliff. Upon its top are
+still visible the crumbling ruins of the pueblo of
+Poo-reh-tú-ai—a town deserted, as we are historically
+sure, over three hundred and fifty years ago.
+The mound outlines of the round <i>estufa</i>, the houses
+and the streets, are still easy to be traced, and bits
+of pottery, broken arrow-heads, and other relics,
+still abound there. In history we know no more of
+the pueblo than that it was once there, but had
+been abandoned already when Coronado passed in
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>131]</span>
+1540; but my aboriginal friends and fellow-citizens
+of Shee-eh-whíb-bahk have an interesting legend
+of the pueblo of Poo-reh-tú-ai and the cause which
+led to its abandonment.</p>
+
+<p>When the mesa town was inhabited, so was
+Isleta; and, being but three miles apart, the intercommunication
+was constant. At one time, four
+hundred years ago or more, there lived in Isleta
+a very handsome youth whose name was K’oo-ah-máh-koo-hóo-oo-aí-deh—which
+means Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of this serious burden of a title, the
+young man was greatly admired, and had many
+friends. Probably they called him something else
+“for short,” or people wouldn’t have had time to
+associate with him. There were two sisters, very
+pretty girls, living in Poo-reh-tú-ai, and they fell
+very seriously in love, both with this same youth.
+But he had never really found out how handsome
+he was, and so thought little about girls anyhow,
+caring more to run fastest in the races and to kill
+the most game in the hunts. The sisters, finding
+that he would not notice their shy smiles, began to
+make it in their way to pass his house whenever
+they came to Isleta, and to say <i>hin-a-kú-pui-yoo</i>
+(good morning) as they met him on the road. But
+he paid no attention to them whatever, except
+to be polite; and even when they sent him the
+modest little gift which means “there is a young
+lady who loves you!” he was as provokingly indifferent
+as ever.</p>
+
+<p>After long coquetting in vain, the girls began to
+hate him as hard as before they had loved him.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>132]</span>
+They decided, no doubt, that he was <i>oó-teh</i>, the
+Tée-wahn word for “a mean old thing”; and
+finally one proposed that they put him out of the
+way, for both sisters, young and pretty as they
+were, were witches.</p>
+
+<p>“We will teach him,” said one.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said the other, “he ought to be punished;
+but how shall we do it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, we will invite him to play a game of <i>mah-khúr</i>,
+and then we’ll fix him. I’ll go now and
+make the hoop.”</p>
+
+<p>The witch-sisters made a very gay hoop, and
+then sent word to the youth to meet them at the
+sacred sand-hill, just west of Isleta, as they had
+important business with him. Wondering what it
+could be, he met them at the appointed time and
+place.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Brother Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob,”
+said the eldest sister, “we want to amuse
+ourselves a little, so let us have a game of <i>mah-khúr</i>.
+We have a very nice hoop to play it. You
+go half-way down the hill and see if you can catch
+it when we roll it to you. If you can, you may
+have the hoop; but if you fail, you come and roll
+it to us and we’ll see if we can catch it.”</p>
+
+<p>So he went down the hill and waited, and the
+girls sent the bright wheel rolling toward him.
+He was very nimble, and caught it “on the fly”;
+but that very instant he was no longer the tall,
+handsome Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob,
+but a poor little Coyote, with great tears rolling
+down his cheeks. The witch-sisters came laughing
+and taunting him, and said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>133]</span>
+“You see it would have been better to marry
+us! But now you will always be a Coyote and
+an outcast from home. You may roam to the
+north and to the south and to the west, but never
+to the east” (and therefore not back to Isleta).</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote started off, still weeping; and the
+two wicked sisters went home rejoicing at their
+success. The Coyote roamed away to the west,
+and at last turned south. After a time he came
+across a party of Isleteños<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> returning from a trading-trip
+to the Apache country. He sneaked
+about their camp, snapping up odd scraps—for
+he was nearly starved. In the morning the Indians
+spied this Coyote sitting and watching them at a
+little distance, and they set their dogs on him.
+But the Coyote did not run; and when the dogs
+came to him they merely sniffed and came away
+without hurting him—though every one knows
+that the dog and the Coyote have been enemies
+almost ever since the world began. The Indians
+were greatly astonished; and one of them, who
+was a medicine-man, began to suspect that there
+was something wrong. So, without saying anything
+to the others, he walked over to the Coyote
+and said: “Coyote, are you Coyote-true, or somebody
+bewitched?” But the Coyote made no reply.
+Again the medicine-man asked: “Coyote, are you
+a man?” At this the Coyote nodded his head affirmatively,
+while tears rolled from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, then,” said the medicine-man, “come
+with me.” So the Coyote rose and followed him
+to the camp; and the medicine-man fed and cared
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>134]</span>
+for him as the party journeyed toward Isleta. The
+last night they camped at the big barranca, just
+below the village; and here the medicine-man told
+his companions the story of the bewitchment,—for
+the Coyote had already told him,—and they were
+all greatly astonished, and very sad to learn that
+this poor Coyote was their handsome friend, K’oo-ah-máh-koo-hóo-oo-aí-deh.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the medicine-man, “we will make
+a nice hoop and try a game.” He made it, and
+said to the Coyote: “Friend, go and stand over
+there; and when I roll this hoop toward you, you
+must jump and put your head through it before it
+stops rolling or falls over upon its side.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote stood off, and the medicine-man
+sent the hoop rolling toward him very hard. Just
+as it came near enough the Coyote made a wonderful
+jump and put his head squarely through the
+middle of it—and there, instead of the gaunt Coyote,
+stood the Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob,
+handsome and well and strong as ever. They
+all crowded around to congratulate him and to listen
+to what had befallen him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the medicine-man, “when we get
+home, the two witch-sisters will come to congratulate
+you, and will pretend not to know anything of
+the trouble that befell you, and when you see them
+you must invite <em>them</em> to a game of <i>mah-khúr</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>It all came about as he said. When the party
+got back to Isleta all the people welcomed the
+young man whose mysterious disappearance had
+made all sad. The news of his return spread rapidly,
+and soon reached the village of Poo-reh-tú-ai.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>135]</span>
+In a day or two the witch-sisters came to Isleta,
+bringing on their heads baskets of the choicest
+foods and other gifts, which they presented to him
+in the most cordial manner. To see how they
+welcomed him, one would never fancy that they
+had been the wicked causes of his suffering. He
+played his part equally well, and gave no sign
+that he saw through their duplicity. At last, when
+they were about to start home, he said: “Sisters,
+let us come to the sand-hill to-morrow to play a
+little game.”</p>
+
+<p>An invitation—or rather a challenge—of that
+sort must be accepted under all Indian etiquette;
+and the witch-sisters agreed. So at the appointed
+hour they met him at the sacred hill. He had
+made a very beautiful hoop, and when they saw it
+they were charmed, and took their positions at the
+foot of the declivity. “One, two, three!” he counted;
+and at the word “three!” sent the hoop rolling
+down to them. They both grabbed it at the same
+instant, and lo! instead of the pretty, but evil-minded
+sisters of Poo-reh-tú-ai, there lay two huge
+rattlesnakes, with big tears falling from their eyes.
+Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob laid upon
+their ugly, flat heads a pinch of the sacred meal,
+and they ran out their tongues and licked it.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” he said, “this is what happens to the
+treacherous. Here in these cliffs shall be your
+home forever. You must never go to the river, so
+you will suffer with thirst and drag yourselves in
+the dust all the days of your life.”</p>
+
+<p>The Young-Man-Who-Embraces-a-Corncob
+went back to Isleta, where he lived to a ripe old
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>136]</span>
+age. As for the snakes, they went to live in the
+cliffs of their own mesa. The people of Poo-reh-tú-ai
+soon learned of the fate of the witch-sisters,
+and knew that those two great snakes, with tears
+in their eyes, were they. That was the beginning of
+the downfall of Poo-reh-tú-ai; for the people grew
+fearful of one another, lest there might be many
+more witches, unbeknown, among them. The distrust
+and discontent grew rapidly—for to this day
+nothing on earth will disrupt any Indian community
+so quickly or so surely as the belief that some
+of the people are witches. In a very short time
+the people decided to abandon Poo-reh-tú-ai altogether.
+Most of them migrated to the Northwest,
+and I have not as yet found even a legend to tell
+what became of them. The rest settled in Isleta,
+where their descendants dwell to this day. There
+are old men here now who claim that their great-grandfathers
+used to see the two huge rattlesnakes
+basking on the cliffs of the mesa of Shee-em-tóo-ai,
+and that the snakes always wept when
+people came near them.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">[75]</a> Pronounced Eez-lay-táyn-yos.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>137]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap21">XXI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE DROWNING OF PECOS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>WENTY-FIVE miles southeast of Santa Fé,
+New Mexico, lie the deserted ruins of the
+ancient Pueblo town of Pecos. The village was finally
+abandoned by the Indians in 1840; and their
+neat houses of adobe bricks and stone, and their
+quaint adobe church, have sadly fallen to decay.
+The history of the abandonment of Pecos is by
+no means startling; but the Indian tradition—for
+they have already added this to their countless
+myths—is decidedly so. The story is related
+by two aged Pecos Indians who still live in the
+pueblo of Jemez.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, this is a true story,” said my informant,
+an Isleteño, who had often heard it from
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Once Pecos was a large village, and had many
+people.<a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> But it came that nearly all of them had
+the evil road, and in the whole town were but five
+True Believers (in the Indian religion). These
+were an old woman, her two sons, and two other
+young men. Agostin, her elder son, was a famous
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>138]</span>
+hunter, and very often went to the mountains with
+a friend of his who had an evil spirit—though
+Agostin was not aware of that.</p>
+
+<p>One day the friend invited Agostin to go hunting,
+and next day they went to the mountains.
+Just at the foot they found a herd of deer, one of
+which Agostin wounded. The deer fled up the
+mountain, and the two friends followed by the
+drops of blood. Half-way to the top they came
+to a second herd, which ran off to the right of
+the trail they were following, and the evil-spirited
+friend went in pursuit of them, while Agostin kept
+on after the one he had wounded.</p>
+
+<p>He came at last to the very top of the mountain,
+and there of a sudden the trail ceased.
+Agostin hunted all about, but in vain, and at
+last started down the other side of the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>As he came to a deep cañon he heard singing,
+and, peering cautiously through the bushes, he
+saw a lot of witch-men sitting around a fallen
+pine and singing, while their chief was trying
+to raise the tree.</p>
+
+<p>Agostin recognized them all, for they were of
+Pecos, and he was much grieved when he saw his
+friend among them. Then he knew that the deer
+had all been witches, and that they had led him off
+on a false trail.</p>
+
+<p>Greatly alarmed, he crept back to a safe distance,
+and then hurried home and told his aged
+mother all that had happened, asking her if he
+should report it to the Cacique.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said she, with a sigh, “it is of no use;
+for he, too, has the evil road. There are but few
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>139]</span>
+True Believers left, and the bad ones are trying
+to use us up.”</p>
+
+<p>Among the five good people was one of the
+Cum-pah-whit-lah-wen (guards of the medicine-men);
+and to him Agostin told his story. But he
+also said: “It is of no use. We are too few to do
+anything.”</p>
+
+<p>At last the bad people falsely accused the old
+woman, saying that her power was more than that
+of all the medicine-men put together (which is a
+very serious charge, even to-day, among the Indians);
+and challenged her to come before all the
+people in the medicine-house and perform miracles
+with them, well knowing that she could not. The
+challenge was for life or death; whichever side
+won was to kill the others without being resisted.</p>
+
+<p>The poor old woman told her sons, with tears,
+saying: “Already we are killed. We know nothing
+of these things, and we may make ready to die.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Nana,” said Agostin.<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> “Despair not yet,
+but prepare lunch for Pedro<a id="FNanchor_77a" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> and me, that we go to
+other villages for advice. Perhaps there the medicine-men
+will tell us something.”</p>
+
+<p>So the mother, still weeping, made some tortillas,
+and, strapping these to their belts, the young
+men set out.</p>
+
+<p>Pedro, the younger, went east, and Agostin took
+the road to the north. Whatever person they met,
+or to whatever village they came, they were to seek
+advice.</p>
+
+<p>When Agostin came to the foot of the mountains,
+he was very thirsty, but there was no water. As he
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>140]</span>
+entered a gorge he saw Hyo-kwáh-kwah-báy-deh,
+a little bird which builds its nest with pebbles and
+clay in the crannies of the cliffs, and is of exactly
+the same color as the sandstones. He thought,
+“Ah, little bird, if you could speak I would ask
+you where there is water, for I am fainting with
+thirst, and dare not eat, for that would make it
+worse!”</p>
+
+<p>But the little bird, knowing his thought, said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Agostin, I see that you are one of the
+True Believers, and I will show you where there is
+water; or wait, I will go and bring you some, for
+it is very far.” And off he flew.</p>
+
+<p>Agostin waited, and presently the little bird
+came back, bringing an acorn-cup full of water.
+Then Agostin’s heart sank, and he thought: “Alas!
+what good will that drop do me?”</p>
+
+<p>But the little bird replied: “Do not think that
+way, friend. Here is enough, and even more; for
+when you drink all you wish, there will still be
+some left.”</p>
+
+<p>And so it was. Agostin drank and drank, then
+ate some tortillas and drank again; and when he
+was satisfied, the acorn-cup was still nearly full.</p>
+
+<p>Then the little bird said: “Now come, and I will
+lead you. But when we come to the top of the
+mountain, and I say, ‘We are at the top,’ you must
+say, ‘No, we are down in the mountain—at the
+bottom of it.’ Do not forget.”</p>
+
+<p>Agostin promised, and the little bird flew in front
+of him. At last they were at the top, and the little
+bird said:</p>
+
+<p>“Here we are, friend, at the top.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>141]</span>
+“No,” answered Agostin, “we are down in the
+mountain—at the bottom of it.”</p>
+
+<p>Three times the little bird repeated his words,
+and three times Agostin made the same answer.</p>
+
+<p>At the third reply they found themselves in a
+room in the mountain. There was a door in front
+of them, and beside it stood a Cum-pah-whit-lah-wíd-deh
+(guard), who said to Agostin—for the
+little bird had disappeared:</p>
+
+<p>“Son, how came you here, where none ever
+think of coming? Do you think you are a man?”</p>
+
+<p>Agostin told the whole story of the witches’
+challenge, and of how he had gone out to seek
+advice, and of how the little bird had brought him
+here, and the guard said:</p>
+
+<p>“You are coming with the thought of a man; so
+now come in,” and he opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>But when Agostin entered the inner room, which
+was so large that no end could be seen, he found
+himself in the presence of the Trues in human shape.</p>
+
+<p>There sat the divinities of the East, who are
+white; and of the North, who are blue; and beyond
+them were the sacred animals—the mountain
+lion, the eagle, bear, buffalo, badger, hawk, rabbit,
+rattlesnake, and all the others that are of the Trues.
+Agostin was very much afraid, but the guard said
+to him:</p>
+
+<p>“Do not fear, son, but take the heart of a man,
+and pray to all sides.” So he faced to the six
+sides, praying. When he had finished, one of the
+Trues spoke to him, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“What can it be that brought you here? Take
+the heart of a man and tell us.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>142]</span>
+Then Agostin told his whole story; after which
+the Trues said to him:</p>
+
+<p>“Do not be worried, son. We will help you out
+of that.”</p>
+
+<p>The principal True of the East said:</p>
+
+<p>“Son, I will give you the clothes you must wear
+when you are in the medicine-house for the contest
+of power”; and he gave Agostin four dark-blue
+breech-clouts and some moccasins for himself and
+the three other good young men, and a black
+<i>manta</i> (robe) and pair of moccasins for his mother.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the True, “the evil-spirited ones
+will have this medicine-making contest in the <i>estufa</i>,<a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a>
+and when you enter, you five, you must all be
+dressed in these clothes. The people will all be
+there, old and young, and there will hardly be room
+for you to stand; and they will all sneer at you
+and spit upon you. But do not be sorry. And take
+this cane to hold between you. Let your mother
+take it with one hand at the bottom, then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh’s
+hand, then her other hand, and then
+his other hand; and last your brother’s hand,
+your hand, then his other hand, and your other
+hand at the top of all. And when you say, ‘We
+are at the top of the mountain,’ he must answer,
+‘No, we are down in the mountain—at the bottom
+of it.’ This you must keep saying. Now go, son,
+with the heart of a man.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Whit-lah-wíd-deh led Agostin out,
+and the little bird showed him the way down the
+mountain.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached home it was the afternoon of
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>143]</span>
+the appointed day, and in the evening the medicine-making
+contest for life or death was to come.</p>
+
+<p>In a little while the younger brother arrived,
+with his new clothes and moccasins torn to shreds;
+for he had traveled far in a rough country, without
+meeting a soul from whom to ask advice.</p>
+
+<p>Agostin called together the four other True Believers,
+and told them all that had happened and
+what they must do, giving them the sacred clothing.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening they went to the <i>estufa</i>, which
+was crowded with the witch-people, so that they
+had barely room to stand.</p>
+
+<p>Then the evil-spirited ones began to make medicine,
+and turned themselves into bears, coyotes,
+crows, owls, and other animals. When they were
+done, they said to the old woman:</p>
+
+<p>“Now it is your turn. We will see what you
+can do.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know nothing about these things,” she said, “but
+I will do what I can, and the Trues will help me.”</p>
+
+<p>Then she and the four young men took hold of
+the sacred cane as the Trues had showed Agostin.</p>
+
+<p>“We are on the top of the mountain,” said he.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” answered his brother, “we are down in
+the mountain—at the bottom of it.”</p>
+
+<p>This they said three times. At the third saying
+the people heard on all sides the <i>guajes</i> of the
+Trues.<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> At the same moment the ladder<a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> was
+jerked violently up out of the room, so that no
+one could get out.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>144]</span>
+Then the two brothers repeated their words
+again, and at the third saying the thunder began
+to roar outside, and all could hear plainly the singing
+and the <i>guajes</i> of the Trues. It began to rain
+violently, and the water poured down through the
+roof-door, and the lightning stuck its tongue in.
+The brothers kept repeating their words, and soon
+the water was knee-deep. But where the five True
+Believers stood, holding the cane, the floor was
+dusty. Soon the flood came to the waists of the
+witch-people, and then to their necks, and the
+children were drowning. Then they cried out to
+the old woman:</p>
+
+<p>“Truly, mother, your power is greater than ours.
+We submit.”</p>
+
+<p>But she paid no attention to them, and her sons
+continued their words, and the water kept pouring
+in until it touched the very ceiling. But all around
+the five it stood back like a wall, and they were on
+dry ground.</p>
+
+<p>At last all the evil-spirited ones were drowned.
+Then the rain ceased and the water departed as
+fast as it had come. The ladder came down through
+the roof-door again, and the five True Believers
+climbed out and went to their homes.</p>
+
+<p>But it was very desolate, for they were the only
+survivors. Their nearest relatives and dearest
+friends had perished with the other witch-people.
+At last they could no longer bear to live in the
+lonely valley, and they decided to live elsewhere.
+On the way the old mother and one of the men
+died. Agostin went to the pueblo of Cochití, and
+Pedro and the Whit-lah-wíd-deh settled in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>145]</span>
+pueblo of Jemez, where they are still living (or
+were in the spring of 1891).</p>
+
+<p>Such is the Indian version of the abandonment
+of the great pueblo which Coronado—that wonderful
+Spanish explorer—found in 1540. As a
+matter of fact, the Hyó-qua-hoon, or people of
+Pecos, had dwindled away by war, epidemics, and
+the like, until only five were left; and in 1840 these
+lonely survivors moved to other pueblos, and abandoned
+their ruined town forever. But the story is
+very valuable, not only for the glimpse it affords
+of some of their most secret beliefs, but also as
+showing how folk-stories of the most aboriginal
+stamp are still coined.</p>
+
+<p>Witchcraft is still a serious trouble in all the
+pueblos, despite the efforts of the medicine-men,
+whose special duty it is to keep down the witches.
+One little pueblo called Sandia is dying out—as
+many others have done before it—because the
+medicine-men are quietly killing those whom they
+suspect of being witches. In 1888 a very estimable
+Indian woman of that town was slain by them
+in the customary way,—shot through from side to
+side with an arrow,—and this form of execution is
+still practised.</p>
+
+<p>In Isleta they fear the Americans too much to
+indulge in witch-killing, for Albuquerque is only a
+few miles away. But it is only a little while ago
+that a young Isletan who was accused spent three
+months in the neck-stocks in our aboriginal prison,
+and much of the time had to “ride the horse,” sitting
+with his legs crossed upon the adobe floor and
+the heavy weight of the stocks pressing him down,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>146]</span>
+a torture worthy of the Inquisition. The case was
+kept out of the American courts only by the payment
+of a large sum to his parents by his accusers.</p>
+
+<p>One whose eyes or lids look red is always regarded
+with suspicion here, for witch-people are
+supposed not to sleep at night, but to change
+themselves into animals and roam over the world.
+Eccentric actions also lay one open to accusation;
+and when I first came here I was dangerously near
+being classed with the witches because, to amuse
+my dusky little neighbors, I imitated various animal
+cries to their great edification, but to the very serious
+doubt of their elders. The fact that they doubt
+whether Americans know enough to be first-class
+witches was largely instrumental in saving me from
+serious danger.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">[76]</a> It was, indeed, the largest pueblo in New Mexico, having at one time a
+population of about 2000.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">[77]</a> Pronounced Ah-gohs-téen and Páy-droh.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">[78]</a> Where it is sacrilegious to make medicine.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">[79]</a> The thunder is said by the Tée-wahn to be the sacred dance-rattle of
+their gods.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">[80]</a> The only entrance to any <i>estufa</i> is by a ladder let down through a door
+in the roof.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>147]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm24" style="max-width: 39.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm24.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Ants That Pushed on the Sky">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap22">XXII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE ANTS THAT PUSHED ON THE SKY</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapa03.jpg" width="226" height="261" alt="A">
+</div>
+<p> VERY ancient and characteristic
+story about the origin of Isleta is
+based on the historic fact that part
+of its founders came from east of
+the Manzano Mountains, from one
+of the prehistoric pueblos whose
+ruins are now barely visible in
+those broad plains.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time there lived in one of those
+villages (so runs the story) a young Indian named
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo, the Corn-stalk Young Man. He
+was not only a famous hunter and a brave warrior
+against the raiding Comanches, but a great wizard;
+and to him the Trues had given the power of the
+clouds. When Kahp-too-óo-yoo willed it, the glad
+rains fell, and made the dry fields laugh in green;
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>148]</span>
+and without him no one could bring water from
+the sky. His father was Old-Black-Cane, his
+mother was Corn-Woman, and his two sisters were
+Yellow-Corn-Maiden, and Blue-Corn-Maiden.</p>
+
+<p>Kahp-too-óo-yoo had a friend, a young man of
+about the same age. But, as is often true, the
+friend was of a false heart, and was really a witch,
+though Kahp-too-óo-yoo never dreamed of such a
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>The two young men used to go together to the
+mountains to get wood, and always carried their
+bows and arrows, to kill deer and antelopes, or
+whatever game they might find.</p>
+
+<p>One day the false friend came to Kahp-too-óo-yoo,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend, let us go to-morrow for wood, and to
+hunt.”</p>
+
+<p>They agreed that so they would do. Next day
+they started before sunrise, and came presently to
+the spot where they gathered wood. Just there
+they started a herd of deer. Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+followed part of the herd, which fled to the northwest,
+and the friend pursued those that went southwest.
+After a long, hard chase, Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+killed a deer with his swift arrows, and brought it
+on his strong back to the place where they had
+separated. Presently came the friend, very hot
+and tired, and with empty hands; and seeing the
+deer, he was pinched with jealousy.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, friend,” said Kahp-too-óo-yoo. “It is
+well for brothers to share with brothers. Take of
+this deer and cook and eat; and carry a part to
+your house, as if you had killed it yourself.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>149]</span>
+“Thank you,” answered the other coldly, as one
+who will not; but he did not accept.</p>
+
+<p>When they had gathered each a load of wood,
+and lashed it with rawhide thongs in bundles upon
+their shoulders, they trudged home—Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+carrying the deer on top of his wood. His
+sisters received him with joy, praising him as a
+hunter; and the friend went away to his house,
+with a heavy face.</p>
+
+<p>Several different days when they went to the
+mountain together, the very same thing came to
+pass. Kahp-too-óo-yoo killed each time a deer;
+and each time the friend came home with nothing,
+refusing all offers to share as brothers. And he
+grew more jealous and more sullen every day.</p>
+
+<p>At last he came again to invite Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+to go; but this time it was with an evil purpose
+that he asked. Then again the same things
+happened. Again the unsuccessful friend refused
+to take a share of Kahp-too-óo-yoo’s deer; and
+when he had sat long without a word, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Kahp-too-óo-yoo, now I will prove you
+if you are truly my friend, for I do not think it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely,” said Kahp-too-óo-yoo, “if there is any
+way to prove myself, I will do it gladly, for truly I
+am your friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then come, and we will play a game together,
+and with that I will prove you.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well! But what game shall we play, for
+here we have nothing?”</p>
+
+<p>Near them stood a broken pine-tree, with one
+great arm from its twisted body. And looking at
+it, the false friend said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>150]</span>
+“I see nothing but to play the <i>gallo</i> race; and
+because we have no horses<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> we will ride this arm
+of the pine-tree—first I will ride, and then you.”</p>
+
+<p>So he climbed the pine-tree, and sat astride the
+limb as upon a horse, and rode, reaching over to
+the ground as if to pick up the chicken.<a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a></p>
+
+<p>“Now you,” he said, coming down; and Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+climbed the tree and rode on the swinging
+branch. But the false friend bewitched the
+pine, and suddenly it grew in a moment to the
+very sky, carrying Kahp-too-óo-yoo.</p>
+
+<p>“We do this to one another,” taunted the false
+friend, as the tree shot up; and taking the wood,
+and the deer which Kahp-too-óo-yoo had killed,
+he went to the village. There the sisters met him,
+and asked:</p>
+
+<p>“Where is our brother?”</p>
+
+<p>“Truly I know not, for he went northwest and
+I southwest; and though I waited long at the
+meeting-place, he did not come. Probably he will
+soon return. But take of this deer which I killed,
+for sisters should share the labors of brothers.”</p>
+
+<p>But the girls would take no meat, and went
+home sorrowful.</p>
+
+<p>Time went on, and still there was no Kahp-too-óo-yoo.
+His sisters and his old parents wept
+always, and all the village was sad. And soon
+the crops grew yellow in the fields, and the springs
+failed, and the animals walked like weary shadows;
+for Kahp-too-óo-yoo, he who had the power of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>151]</span>
+clouds, was gone, and there was no rain. And
+then perished all that is green; the animals fell in
+the brown fields; and the gaunt people who sat to
+warm themselves in the sun began to die there
+where they sat. At last the poor old man said to
+his daughters:</p>
+
+<p>“Little daughters, prepare food, for again we
+will go to look for your brother.”</p>
+
+<p>The girls made cakes of the blue corn-meal for
+the journey; and on the fourth day they started.
+Old-Black-Cane hobbled to the south, his wife to
+the east, the elder girl to the north, and the
+younger to the west.</p>
+
+<p>For a great distance they traveled; and at last
+Blue-Corn-Maiden, who was in the north, heard a
+far, faint song. It was so little that she thought
+it must be imaginary; but she stopped to listen,
+and softly, softly it came again:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Tó-ai-fóo-ni-hlóo-hlim,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Eng-k’hai k’háhm;</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Eé-eh-bóori-kóon-hlee-oh,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Ing-k’hai k’háhm.</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Ah-ee-ái, ah-hee-ái,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Aim!</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">(Old-Black-Cane</div>
+    <div class="i0">My father is called;</div>
+    <div class="i0">Corn-Woman</div>
+    <div class="i0">My mother is called.</div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Ah-ee-ái, ah-hee-ái,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Aim!</i>)</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>When she heard this, Blue-Corn-Maiden ran
+until she came to her sister, and cried:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>152]</span>
+“Sister! Sister! I think I hear our brother somewhere
+in captivity. Listen!”</p>
+
+<p>Trembling, they listened; and again the song
+came floating to them, so soft, so sad that they
+wept—as to this day their people weep when a
+white-haired old man, filled with the memories of
+Kahp-too-óo-yoo, sings that plaintive melody.</p>
+
+<p>“Surely it is our brother!” they cried; and off
+they went running to find their parents. And
+when all listened together, again they heard the
+song.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my son!” cried the poor old woman, “in
+what captivity do you find yourself? True it is
+that your father is Old-Black-Cane, and I, your
+mother, am called Corn-Woman. But why do you
+sing thus?”</p>
+
+<p>Then all four of them began to follow the song,
+and at last they came to the foot of the sky-reaching
+pine; but they could see nothing of Kahp-too-óo-yoo,
+nor could their cries reach him. There, on
+the ground, were his bow and arrows, with strings
+and feathers eaten away by time; and there was
+his pack of wood, tied with the rawhide thong,
+ready to be taken home. But after they had
+searched everywhere, they could not find Kahp-too-óo-yoo;
+and finally they went home heavy at
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>At last it happened that P’ah-whá-yoo-óo-deh,
+the Little Black Ant, took a journey and went up
+the bewitched pine, even to its top in the sky.
+When he found Kahp-too-óo-yoo there a prisoner,
+the Little Black Ant was astonished, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Great <i>Kah-báy-deh</i> [Man of Power], how comes
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>155]</span>
+it that you are up here in such a condition, while
+your people at home are suffering and dying for
+rain, and few are left to meet you if you return?
+Are you here of your free will?”</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="mwmm25" style="max-width: 33.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm25.jpg" id="fig17" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">SOUTH, EAST, NORTH, AND WEST IN SEARCH OF KAHP-TOO-ÓO-YOO.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“No,” groaned Kahp-too-óo-yoo; “I am here
+because of the jealousy of him who was as my
+brother, with whom I shared my food and labor,
+whose home was my home, and my home his. He
+is the cause, for he was jealous and bewitched me
+hither. And now I am dying of famine.”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is so,” said the Little Black Ant, “I will
+be the one to help you”; and he ran down to the
+world as fast as he could. When he got there he
+sent out the crier to summon all his nation, and
+also that of the <i>In-toon</i>, the Big Red Ants. Soon
+all the armies of the Little Black Ants and the Big
+Red Ants met at the foot of the pine, and held a
+council. They smoked the <i>weer</i> and deliberated
+what should be done.</p>
+
+<p>“You Big Red Ants are stronger than we who
+are small,” said the War-Captain of the Little
+Black Ants, “and for that you ought to take the
+top of the tree to work.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Een-dah!</i>” (No) said the War-Captain of the
+Big Red Ants. “If you think we are the stronger,
+give us the bottom, where we can work more, and
+you go to the top.”</p>
+
+<p>So it was agreed, and the captains made their
+armies ready. But first the Little Black Ants got
+the cup of an acorn, and mixed in it corn-meal and
+water and honey, and carried it up the tree. They
+were so many that they covered its trunk all the
+way to the sky.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>156]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp45" id="mwmm26" style="max-width: 30.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm26.jpg" alt="The ants carry the acorn cup">
+</figure>
+
+<p>When Kahp-too-óo-yoo saw, his heart was
+heavy, and he thought: “But what good will that
+very little
+do me, for
+I am dying of hunger
+and thirst?”
+“Nay, friend,” answered
+the Captain
+of the Little Black
+Ants, who knew his
+thought. “A person
+should not think so. This
+little is enough, and there
+will be some left.”</p>
+
+<p>And it was so; for when Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+had eaten all he could,
+the acorn-cup was still nearly full.
+Then the ants carried the cup to
+the ground and came back to him.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend,” said the Captain,
+“we will do our best.
+But now you must shut your
+eyes till I say ‘<i>Ahw!</i>’”</p>
+
+<p>Kahp-too-óo-yoo shut his eyes,
+and the Captain sent signals down
+to those at the foot of the tree. And
+the Little Black Ants above put their
+feet against the sky and pushed with
+all their might on the top of the pine;
+and the Big Red Ants below caught the
+trunk and pulled as hard as they could; and the
+very first tug drove the great pine a quarter of its
+length into the earth.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>157]</span>
+“<i>Ahw!</i>” shouted the Captain of the Little Black
+Ants, and Kahp-too-óo-yoo opened his eyes; but
+he could see nothing below.</p>
+
+<p>“Shut your eyes again,” said the Captain, giving
+the signal. Again the Little Black Ants
+pushed mightily against the sky, and the Big Red
+Ants pulled mightily from below; and the pine was
+driven another fourth of its length into the earth.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ahw!</i>” cried the Captain; and when Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+opened his eyes he could just see the big,
+brown world.</p>
+
+<p>Again he closed his eyes. There was another
+great push and pull, and only a quarter of the pine
+was left above the ground. Now Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+could see, far below, the parched fields strewn with
+dead animals, and his own village full of dying
+people.</p>
+
+<p>Again the Little Black Ants pushed and the Big
+Red Ants pulled, and this time the tree was driven
+clear out of sight, and Kahp-too-óo-yoo was left
+sitting on the ground. He hastily made a bow and
+arrows and soon killed a fat deer, which he brought
+and divided among the Little Black Ants and the
+Big Red Ants, thanking them for their kindness.</p>
+
+<p>Then he made all his clothing to be new, for he
+had been four years a prisoner in the bewitched
+tree, and was all in rags. Making for himself
+a flute from the bark of a young tree, he played
+upon it as he strode homeward and sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Kahp-too-óo-yoo tú-mah-quee,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Nah-chóor kwé-shay-tin,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Nah-shúr kwé-shay-tin;</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Kahp-too-óo-yoo tú-mah-quee!</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>158]</span></p>
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">(Kahp-too-óo-yoo has come to life again,</div>
+    <div class="i0">Is back to his home coming,</div>
+    <div class="i0">Blowing the yellow and the blue;</div>
+    <div class="i0">Kahp-too-óo-yoo has come to life again!)</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp28" id="mwmm27" style="max-width: 15.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm27.jpg" id="fig18" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">KAHP-TOO-ÓO-YOO CALLING THE RAIN.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As he walked and sang, the forgotten clouds
+came over him, and the soft rain began to fall, and
+all was green and good. But
+only so far as his voice reached
+came the rain; and beyond all
+was still death and drought.
+When he came to the end of
+the wet, he played and sang
+again; and again the rain fell
+as far as his voice was heard.
+This time the Fool-Boy, who
+was wandering outside the dying
+village, saw the far storm
+and heard the singing. He
+ran to tell Kahp-too-óo-yoo’s
+parents; but nobody would
+believe a Foolish, and they
+sent him away.</p>
+
+<p>When the Fool-Boy went
+out again, the rain fell on him
+and gave him strength, and
+he came running a second
+time to tell. Then the sisters
+came out of the house and saw
+the rain and heard the song;
+and they cried for joy, and
+told their parents to rise and
+meet him. But the poor old people were dying of
+weakness, and could not rise; and the sisters went
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>159]</span>
+alone. When they met him they fell on their knees,
+weeping; but Kahp-too-óo-yoo lifted them up and
+blessed them, gave an ear of blue corn to Blue-Corn-Maiden,
+and to Yellow-Corn-Maiden an ear
+of yellow corn, and brought them home.</p>
+
+<p>As he sang again, the rain fell in the village;
+and when it touched the pinched faces of the dead
+they sat up and opened their mouths to catch it.
+And the dying crawled out to drink, and were
+strong again; and the withered fields grew green
+and glad.</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the house, Kahp-too-óo-yoo
+blessed his parents, and then said:</p>
+
+<p>“Little sisters, give us to eat.”</p>
+
+<p>But they answered, “How? For you have been
+gone these four years, and there was none to give
+us rain. We planted, but nothing came, and to-day
+we ate the last grain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, little sisters,” he said. “A person should
+not think so. Look now in the store-rooms, if
+there be not something there.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we have looked and looked, and turned
+over everything to try to find one grain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet look once more,” he said; and when they
+opened the door, lo! there was the store-room
+piled to the roof with corn, and another room was
+full of wheat. Then they cried for joy, and began to
+roast the blue ears, for they were dying of hunger.</p>
+
+<p>At the sweet smell of the roasting corn came
+the starving neighbors, crowding at the door, and
+crying:</p>
+
+<p>“O Kahp-too-óo-yoo! Give us to taste one
+grain of corn, and then we will go home and die.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>160]</span>
+But Kahp-too-óo-yoo handed to each an ear,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Fathers, brothers, go now to your own houses,
+for there you will find corn as much as here.” And
+when they went, it was so. All began to roast
+corn and to eat; and the dead in the houses awoke
+and were strong again, and all the Village sang
+and danced.</p>
+
+<p>From that time there was plenty of rain, for he
+who had the power of the clouds was at home
+again. In the spring the people planted, and in
+the fall the crops were so great that all the town
+could not hold them; so that which was left they
+brought to Shee-eh-whíb-bak (Isleta), where we
+enjoy it to this day.</p>
+
+<p>As for the false friend, he died of shame in his
+house, not daring to come out; and no one wept
+for him.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">[81]</a> This mention of the horse is, of course, modern. I think it is an interpolation.
+The rest of the story bears traces of great antiquity.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">[82]</a> In imitation of one of the most popular and exciting sports of the Southwestern
+Indians and Mexicans.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>161]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap23">XXIII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T KEEP SUNDAY</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>MONG the folk-stories of the Pueblos which
+show at once that they are not of such antiquity
+as the rest, is this. It is plain that the
+story is post-Spanish—that it has been invented
+within the last three hundred and fifty years. That
+seems to us a long time to go back in the history of
+America, but to the Pueblos it is a trifling dot on
+the long line of their antiquity.</p>
+
+<p>The following tale is an amusing instance of the
+fashion in which some of the myth-makers have
+mixed things. It is an Indian fairy tale, but with
+a Christian moral—which was learned from the
+noble and effective Spanish missionaries who toiled
+here.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time, in a pueblo south of Isleta,—one
+of its old colonies known as P’ah-que-tóo-ai,
+the Rainbow Town, but deserted long ago,—there
+were two Indians who were great friends. They
+started in life with equal prospects, married young,
+and settled in the same town. But though friends,
+their natures were very different. One was a good
+man in his heart, and the other was bad. The
+good man always observed Sunday, but the other
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>162]</span>
+worked every day. The good man had better luck
+than the bad; and the latter became jealous. At
+last he said: “Friend, tell me, why is it that you
+always make more success than I?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps,” answered Good, “because I keep
+Sunday, but work hard all the other days of the
+week, while you work every day.”</p>
+
+<p>Time went on, and both the friends accumulated
+considerable wealth in servants, stock, and
+ornaments. The good man let his servants rest
+on Sunday, but the bad made his work every day,
+and did not even give them time to smoke. Good
+prospered most, and had more servants, more
+stock, and more ornaments than Bad, who grew
+more jealous daily. At last Bad said to Good:
+“Friend, you say that you have good luck because
+you keep Sunday, but I’ll bet I am right in <em>not</em>
+keeping it.”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” replied Good; “I’ll bet <em>I</em> am right, and
+that Sunday ought to be kept.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I will bet all my stock against all your
+stock, and all my lands against your lands, and
+everything we have except our wives. To-morrow,
+be ready about breakfast-time, and we will go
+out into the public road and ask the first three
+men we meet which of us is right. And whichever
+gets the voice of the majority, he shall be the winner,
+and shall take all that is of the other.”</p>
+
+<p>Good agreed—for an Indian cannot back out
+of a challenge,—and so the next morning the two
+friends took the public road. In a little while they
+met a man, and said to him: “Friend, we want
+your voice. Which of us is right, the one who
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>163]</span>
+observes Sunday and lets his <em>peons</em> rest then, or
+he who does not?”</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that this person was not a
+man, but an old devil who was taking a walk in
+human form; and he promptly answered: “Without
+doubt he is right who does not keep Sunday,”
+and went his road.</p>
+
+<p>“Aha!” said Bad to Good. “You see I got the
+first voice.”</p>
+
+<p>They started on again and soon met another
+man, to whom they asked the same. But it was
+the same old devil, and he gave them the same
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>“Aha!” said Bad. “Now I have the second
+voice, you see.”</p>
+
+<p>Presently they met a third man, and asked him
+the same, and he answered the same; for it was
+the same old devil in another body.</p>
+
+<p>“Aha!” said Bad, “I am the winner! Get down
+from that burro, and let me have her and her colt,
+for now all that was yours is mine, as we agreed.”</p>
+
+<p>Good got down from the burro with tears in his
+eyes, for he was thinking of his wife, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend, having gained all, you are going
+back to our home; but I shall not. Tell my wife
+that I am going to the next pueblo to seek work,
+and that I will not be back until I have earned as
+much as I have lost in this bet, or more; but tell
+her not to be sad.”</p>
+
+<p>Then they shook hands and parted, Bad riding
+home full of joy, and Good trudging off through
+the sand toward Isleta, which was the largest and
+wealthiest pueblo of the tribe. On the road night
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>164]</span>
+overtook him, and seeing an abandoned house in
+a field, he hastened to it for shelter from the cold
+of night. A portion of the roof still remained, with
+the <i>fogon</i> (corner fireplace) and chimney, and he
+began to brush a place to lie down. Now it happened
+that this house was the place where all the
+devils of that country used to meet at night; and
+before Good went to sleep he heard noises of the
+devils coming. He was very much frightened, and
+to hide himself climbed up into the chimney and
+stood upon its crosspiece.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment the devils began to arrive singly or
+in pairs; and at last came the old devil—the very
+one who had played the trick on Good. He called
+the meeting to order, and asked them what they
+had been doing. A young devil arose and said:</p>
+
+<p>“The next pueblo is the largest and wealthiest
+of this nation. For three weeks now, all its people,
+and all the people along that river, have been
+working at the spring from which the river comes,
+but have not been able to undo me. Three weeks
+ago I came to that spring and thought how nice it
+would be to stop up the spring, and how the people
+would swear if their gods did not send rain. So I
+stuck a big stone in the spring and stopped all the
+water; and ever since, the water will not come out,
+and the people work in vain, and they are dying of
+thirst, and all their stock. Now they will either
+forsake their gods and serve us, or die like the
+animals, thinking nothing of their past or future.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” said the old devil, rubbing his hands.
+“You have done well! But tell me—is there no
+way to open the spring?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>165]</span>
+“There is only one way,” said the young devil,
+“and one man could do that—but they will never
+think of it. If a man took a long stick, shaped like
+a sword, and went and stood on top of the stone,
+and struck it with the full length of the stick first
+east and west, and then north and south, the water
+would come out so hard that the stone would be
+thrown out upon the banks and the spring could
+never be stopped again.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is <em>that</em> the only way?” said the old devil. “You
+have done very well, for they certainly will never
+think to do that. Now for the next.”</p>
+
+<p>Then another young devil arose and reported this:</p>
+
+<p>“I, too, have done something. In the pueblo
+across the mountain I have the daughter of the
+wealthiest man sick in bed, and she will never get
+well. All the medicine-men have tried in vain to
+cure her. She, too, will be ours.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” said the old devil. “But is there no
+way in which any one may cure her?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, there is one way, but they never will think
+of that. If a person should carry her to the door just
+as the sun is rising, and hold her so that its very
+first rays would touch the top of her head, she would
+be well at once, and never could be made sick again.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right,” said the old devil, “they will
+never think of that. You have done well.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then a rooster crowed, and the old devil
+cried, “You have a road!”—which means, “an
+adjournment is in order.” All the devils hurried
+away; and when they were gone, poor Good
+crawled down from the chimney half dead with
+fright, and hurried on toward Isleta. When he
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>166]</span>
+got there he found the people in great trouble, for
+their crops were withering and their cattle dying
+for want of water.</p>
+
+<p>“I see,” thought Good to himself, “that these
+devils told the truth about one thing, and so
+perhaps they did about all. I will try to undo
+them, even if I fail.” Going to the Cacique he
+asked what they would give him if he would open
+the spring. The Cacique told the <i>principales</i>, and
+they held a <i>junta</i>, and decided to let the stranger
+name his own price.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said he, “I will do this if you will give
+me half the value of the whole village.”</p>
+
+<p>They agreed, and asked how many men he
+would need to help him, and when he would begin.</p>
+
+<p>“I need no men. Lend me only a hard stick
+the length of my outstretched arms, and a horse.”</p>
+
+<p>These were given him, and he went to the spring
+alone. Leaping upon the stone he struck it with
+the full length of the stick east and west, and then
+north and south, and sprang nimbly to the bank.
+At that very instant the water rushed out harder
+than it had ever done. All the people and cattle
+along the river came to the banks and drank and
+revived. They began to irrigate their fields again,
+and the dying crops grew green.<a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> When Good got
+back to the pueblo, half of all the grain and money
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>167]</span>
+and dresses and ornaments were piled up in a
+huge pile waiting for him, and half the horses and
+cattle and sheep were waiting in big herds. It
+was so that he had to hire a great many men to
+help him home with his wealth, which was more
+than any one person ever had before. He appointed
+a mayordomo to take charge of this caravan,
+and to meet him at a certain point on the way
+home. He himself, taking a horse, rode away at
+once to the other pueblo, where the rich man’s
+daughter was sick. Arriving at nightfall, he
+stopped at the house of an old woman. While he
+ate, she told him how sad was all the village; for
+the girl who had been so kind to all was dying.</p>
+
+<p>“But,” said he, “I can cure her.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>In-dah</i>,” said the crone; “for all the medicine
+men have tried vainly, and how shall you?”</p>
+
+<p>“But I can,” he insisted; and at last the old
+woman went to the rich man, and said there was a
+stranger at her house who was sure he could cure
+the girl.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>rico</i> said: “Go and tell him to come here
+quickly,” and the old woman did so. When Good
+came, the rich man said: “Are you he who says
+he can cure my daughter?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am the one.”</p>
+
+<p>“For how much will you cure her?”</p>
+
+<p>“What will you give?”</p>
+
+<p>“Half of all I have, which is much.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well. To-morrow be ready, for I will
+come just before the sun.”</p>
+
+<p>In the blue of the morning Good came and
+waked the girl, and carried her to the door. In a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>168]</span>
+moment came the sun, and its first ray fell upon
+her bent head. In an instant she was perfectly
+well, and stronger and prettier than ever.</p>
+
+<p>That very day her father gladly divided all his
+wealth into two equal shares, and gave half to
+Good, who again had to hire many cow-boys and
+men with <i>carretas</i> to help him transport all this.
+At the appointed spot he found his mayordomo;
+and putting all the stock together, with many
+herders, and all the wagons full of corn and dresses
+and ornaments and money together, started homeward,
+sending ahead a messenger on a beautiful
+horse to apprise his wife.</p>
+
+<p>When the jealous Bad saw this fine horse going
+to the house of his friend, he ran over to see what
+it meant; and while he was still there, Good arrived
+with all his wealth. Filled with envy, Bad
+asked him where he had got all this; and Good
+told the whole story.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Bad, “I will go there too, and perhaps
+I will hear something.” So off he rode on the
+burro he had won from Good, till he came to the
+deserted house, and climbed up in the chimney.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the devils met, and the two young ones
+told their chief that the spring had been opened
+and the girl cured, and that neither could ever be
+bewitched again.</p>
+
+<p>“Somebody must have listened to us last night,”
+said the old devil, greatly troubled. “Search the
+house.” In a little while they found the jealous
+friend in the chimney, and supposing him to be the
+one who had undone them, without mercy puffed
+him to the place where devils live.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label">[83]</a> Here, as in several other stories in this volume, is a touch of the arid
+character of the Southwest. The country is always so dry that irrigation is
+necessary in farming, and in very bad years the streams have not water even
+for that. The Rio Grande itself frequently disappears in September between
+certain points in its course in sandy New Mexico; and within ten miles below
+Isleta I have seen its bed bone-dry. Ignorance of this fact has caused serious
+blunders on the part of historians unfamiliar with the country of which they
+wrote.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>169]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap24">XXIV<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE BRAVE BOBTAILS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN it came old Anastacio’s turn, one
+night, to tell a story to the waiting circle, it
+was several minutes before he responded to the
+quaint summons; and at last Lorenso repeated:
+“There is a tail to you, <i>compadre</i> Anastacio!”
+The words seemed to remind him of something;
+for he turned to his fat grandson, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Juan! Knowest thou why the Bear and the
+Badger have short tails? For once they had them
+long as Kéem-ee-deh, the Mountain Lion. <i>In-dah?</i>
+Then I will tell thee.”</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Once in the Days of the Old, it was that a young
+man lived here in Shee-eh-whíb-bak whom they
+called T’hoor-hlóh-ah, the Arrow of the Sun. He
+was not of the Tée-wahn, but a Ute, who was
+taken in war while yet a child. When the warriors
+brought him here, a Grandmother who was
+very poor took him for her son, and reared him,
+loving him greatly, and teaching him all the works
+of men. Coming to be a young man, he was a
+mighty hunter; but so good in his heart that he
+loved the animals as brothers, and they all loved
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>170]</span>
+him. When he went out to hunt, the first game he
+killed he always dressed and left there for his animal-friends
+to eat. Sometimes it was Kéem-ee-deh,
+king of the four-feet, who came to the feast
+Sun-Arrow had made; and sometimes Kahr-naí-deh,
+the Badger, who is best of all to dig, and who
+showed Those of Old how to make their caves;
+and sometimes the smaller ones. They were all
+grateful; for no other was so kind to feed them.</p>
+
+<p>Now the Grandmother would never let Sun-Arrow
+go to war, fearing that he would be killed;
+and all the other young men laughed at him, because
+he had never taken the sacred <em>oak-bark</em>.
+And when the others danced the great round-dance,
+he had to stand alone. So he was ashamed,
+and vowed that he would prove himself a man;
+and taking secretly his bow and arrows and his
+thunder-knife, he went away by night alone, and
+crossed the Eagle-Feather Mountains.</p>
+
+<p>Now in that time there was always great war
+with the Comanches, who lived in the plains.
+They came often across the mountains and attacked
+Isleta by night, killing many people. Their
+chief was P’ee-kú-ee-fa-yíd-deh, or Red Scalp, the
+strongest and largest and bravest of men. For
+many years all the warriors of Isleta had tried to
+kill him, for he was the head of the war; but he
+slew all who came against him. He was very
+brave, and painted his scalp red with <i>páh-ree</i>, so
+that he might be known from far; and left his
+scalp-lock very long, and braided it neatly, so that
+an enemy might grasp it well.</p>
+
+<p>Now Sun-Arrow met this great warrior; and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>171]</span>
+with the help of an old Spider-woman,<a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> slew him
+and took his scalp. When the people of Isleta
+saw Sun-Arrow returning, the young men began to
+laugh and say: “Va! T’hoor-hlóh-ah has gone to
+make war again on the rabbits!”</p>
+
+<p>But when he came into the plaza, saying nothing,
+and they saw that <em>oak-bark</em> which all knew,
+all cried out: “Come and look! For here is Sun-Arrow,
+who was laughed at—and now he has
+brought the bark of Red Scalp, whom our bravest
+have tried in vain to kill.”</p>
+
+<p>So when he had taken the scalp to the Cacique,
+and they had had the round-dance, and the days
+of purification were over, they called Sun-Arrow
+the greatest warrior of the Tée-wahn, and made
+him second to the Cacique. Then all who had
+daughters looked at him with good eyes, and all
+the maidens wished for so brave a husband. But
+he saw none of them, except the youngest daughter
+of the Cacique; for he loved her. When the Grandmother
+had spoken to the Cacique, and it was well,
+they brought the young people together, and gave
+them to eat of the betrothal corn—to Sun Arrow
+an ear of the blue corn, and to her an ear of the
+white corn, because the hearts of maidens are
+whiter than those of men. When both had eaten
+the raw corn, every seed of it, the old folks said:
+“It is well! For truly they love each other. And
+now let them run the marrying-race.”</p>
+
+<p>Then all the people gathered yonder where are
+the ashes of the evil-hearted ones who were burned
+when Antelope Boy won for his people. And the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>172]</span>
+elders marked a course, as of three miles, from
+there to the sacred sand-hill beside the Kú-mai.
+When they said the word, Sun-Arrow and the girl
+went running like young antelope, side by side.
+Up to the Place of the Bell they ran, and turned
+back running; and when they came to the people,
+the girl was a little in front, and all cried:</p>
+
+<p>“It is well! For now Eé-eh-chah has won a
+husband, and she shall always be honored in her
+own house.”</p>
+
+<p>So they were married, and the Cacique blessed
+them. They made a house by the plaza,<a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> and Sun-Arrow
+was given of the fields, that he might plant.</p>
+
+<p>But of the maidens there was one who did not
+forgive Sun-Arrow that he would not look at her;
+and in her heart she thought to pay him. So she
+went to a Spider-woman,<a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> and said: “Grandmother,
+help me! For this young man despised
+me, and now I will punish him.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Spider-woman made an accursed
+prayer-stick of the feathers of the woodpecker,
+and spoke to the Ghosts, and said to the girl:</p>
+
+<p>“It is well, daughter! For I am the one that
+will help you. Take only this Toad, and bury it in
+your floor, <em>this</em> way, and then ask T’hoor-hlóh-ah
+to come to your house.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl made a hole in her floor, and buried
+P’ah-foo-ée-deh, the Toad. Then she went to Sun-Arrow
+and said: “Friend T’hoor-hlóh-ah, come to
+my house a little; for I have to talk to you.”</p>
+
+<p>But when Sun-Arrow sat down in her house, his
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>173]</span>
+feet were upon the floor over the hole; and in a
+moment the Toad grew very great, and began to
+swallow him by the feet. Sun-Arrow kicked and
+fought, for he was very strong. But he could do nothing;
+and in a little, he was swallowed to the knees.
+Then he called in a great voice for his wife; and
+all the people of the Tée-wahn came running with
+her. When they saw him so, they were very sad;
+and Eé-eh-chah took his hand, and the Grandmother
+took his other, and all the people helped
+them. But all were not so strong as the great
+Toad; and fast it was swallowing him, until he was
+at the waist. Then he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Go, my people! Go, my wife! For it is in vain.
+Go from this place, that you may not see me.
+And pray to the Trues if they will help me.” So
+they all went, mourning greatly.</p>
+
+<p>In that time it came that Shee-íd-deh, the
+House-Mouse, stirred from his hole; and seeing
+Sun-Arrow <em>so</em>, he came to him, weeping.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Friend Sun-Arrow!” he cried. “You
+who have been a father to us all, you who have fed
+us, and have proved yourself so brave—it is not deserved
+that you should be thus. But we for whom
+you have cared, we will be the ones to help you!”</p>
+
+<p>Then Shee-íd-deh ran from the house until he
+found the Dog, and to him told it all. And Quee-ah-níd-deh,
+whose voice was big, ran out into the
+plains, up and down, <i>pregonando</i><a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> to all the animals;
+and they came hurrying from all places.
+Soon all the birds and all the four-feet were met in
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>174]</span>
+council in the room where Sun-Arrow was; and
+the Mountain Lion was captain. When he had
+listened to them, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now let each tribe of you choose from it one
+who is young and strong, to give help to him who
+has fed us. For we cannot leave him to die so.”</p>
+
+<p>When every kind that walks or flies had chosen
+its strongest one, the chosen stood out; Kéem-ee-deh
+called them by name to take their turns.</p>
+
+<p>“Kóo-ah-raí-deh!” he called; and the Bluebird
+of the mountains came to Sun-Arrow, who was
+now swallowed up to his armpits. Sun-Arrow
+grasped her long tail with both hands, and she
+flew and flew with all her might, not caring for the
+pain, until her tail was pulled off. But Sun-Arrow
+was not budged a hair.</p>
+
+<p>Then the captain called Ku-íd-deh, the Bear, to
+try. He gave his long tail to Sun-Arrow to hold;
+and when he had counted “One, two, <em>three</em>!” he
+pulled with a great pull, so hard that his whole tail
+came off. And still Sun-Arrow was not stirred.</p>
+
+<p>Then it was to the Coyote. But <em>he</em> said: “My
+ears are stronger”; for he was a coward, and
+would not give to pull on his pretty tail, of which
+he is proud. So he gave to Sun-Arrow to hold
+by his ears, and began to pull backward. But
+soon it hurt him, and he stopped when his ears
+were pulled forward.</p>
+
+<p>“Now it is to you, Kahr-naí-deh,” said the
+Mountain Lion; and the Badger came out to try.
+First he dug around Sun-Arrow, and gave him to
+hold his tail. Then he counted <em>three</em>, and pulled
+greatly, so that his tail came off—and Sun-Arrow
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>175]</span>
+was moved a very little. But the Badger did not
+fear the pain, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Let it be to me twice again, Kah-báy-deh.”<a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a></p>
+
+<p>“It is well!” said the Mountain Lion. “So let
+it be.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Badger dug again, and gave the stump
+of his tail, and pulled. And Sun-Arrow was
+loosened a little more; but the stump slipped
+through his hands, for it was very short.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>Around</em> me, friend,” said the Badger, when
+he had dug a third time; and Sun-Arrow clasped
+his hands around the Badger’s body, behind the
+fore legs. Then for the third time Kahr-naí-deh
+pulled—so mightily that he dragged Sun-Arrow
+clear out from the Toad’s mouth. At that, all the
+animals fell upon the wicked Toad, and killed it;
+and gave thanks to Those Above for the deliverance
+of their friend.</p>
+
+<p>When they had prayed, Sun-Arrow thanked all
+the animals, one by one; and to the Bluebird, the
+Bear, and the Badger, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friends, how shall I thank you who have suffered
+so much for me? And how can I pay you for
+your help, and for the tails that you have lost?”
+But to the Coyote he did not say a word.</p>
+
+<p>Then said the Badger:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend T’hoor-hlóh-ah, as for me, your hand
+has always been held out to me. You have fed
+me, and have been as a father: I want no pay for
+this tail that I have lost.”</p>
+
+<p>And the Bear and the Bluebird both answered
+the same thing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>176]</span>
+So Sun-Arrow again gave them many thanks,
+and they went away to their homes. As for Sun-Arrow,
+he hurried to the Medicine House, where
+all the Tée-wahn were making medicine<a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> that he
+might be saved. And when they saw him entering,
+his wife ran and cried on his shoulder, and all
+the people gave thanks to the Trues.</p>
+
+<p>Sun-Arrow told them all that was; and when
+the Father-of-all-Medicine looked in the sacred
+<i>cajete</i><a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> he saw the evil-hearted girl paying the
+Spider-woman. Then the Cum-pah-whít-la-wen<a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>
+went running with their bows and arrows, and
+brought the girl; and she was punished as are
+they that have the evil road. As for the Spider-woman,
+she was already dead of shame; for she
+knew all that had been.</p>
+
+<p>In a time it came that his father-in-law the
+Cacique died; and they made Sun-Arrow Cacique
+in his place. For many years he was so,
+bringing great good to his people; for he was
+very wise.</p>
+
+<p>As for the Bear, the Badger, and the Bluebird,
+they would never go to the medicine-men of their
+tribes to have their tails mended to grow again;
+for they were proud that they had suffered to help
+their friend. And to this very day they go with
+short tails, and are honored by all the animals, and
+by all True Believers. But Too-wháy-deh, the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>177]</span>
+coward, he who would not hurt himself with pulling—he
+is a laughed-at to this day. For his ears
+cannot lie back, as is well for beasts, but always
+point straight forward, as Sun-Arrow pulled them.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Any one who has ever seen the Coyote, or any
+other of the wolf or fox tribe, must have noticed
+the alert forward pricking of the ears. Among the
+Pueblos, any such peculiarity of nature—and particularly
+of animal life—is very sure to have a folk-story
+hung to it. It has always seemed to me that
+the boy who always wants to know “why?” has a
+better time of it among my Indian friends than anywhere
+else. For there is always sure to be a why,
+and an interesting one—which is much more satisfactory
+than only learning that “it’s bedtime now,”
+or that “I’m busy.”</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">[84]</a> About equivalent to our “fairy godmother.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">[85]</a> Public square in the center of the pueblo.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">[86]</a> Here equivalent to a witch.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">[87]</a> The technical (Spanish) word for the official heralding by which all
+announcements are still made among the Pueblos.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">[88]</a> Commander.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">[89]</a> Not compounding remedies, but going through the magic dance and incantations
+to which the Indians always resort in time of trouble. For a description
+of a medicine-making, see “Some Strange Corners of Our Country.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="label">[90]</a> A jar of magic water, in which the chief conjuror is supposed to see all
+that is going on in the world.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="label">[91]</a> Armed guards of the Medicine House.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>178]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm28" style="max-width: 39.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm28.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Revenge of the Fawns">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap25">XXV<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE REVENGE OF THE FAWNS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="ddropcapbox">
+<img class="idropcap" src="images/dcapd01.jpg" width="165" height="243" alt="D">
+</div>
+<p>ON CARLOS,” said Vitorino, throwing
+another log upon the fire, which
+caught his tall shadow and twisted it
+and set it dancing against the rocky
+walls of the cañon in which we were
+camped for the night, “did you ever
+hear why the Wolf and the Deer are
+enemies?” And as he spoke he
+stretched out near me, looking up
+into my face to see if I were going to be interested.</p>
+
+<p>A few years ago it would have frightened me
+very seriously to find my self thus—alone in one
+of the remotest corners of New Mexico save for
+that swarthy face peering up into mine by the weird
+light of the camp-fire. A stern, quiet but manly
+face it seems to me now; but once I would have
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>179]</span>
+thought it a very savage one, with its frame of long,
+jet hair, its piercing eyes, and the broad streak of
+red paint across its cheeks. By this time, however,
+having lived long among the kindly Pueblos,
+I had shaken off that strange, ignorant prejudice
+against all that is unknown—which seems to be
+inborn in all of us—and wondered that I could
+ever have believed in that brutal maxim, worthy
+only of worse than savages, that “A good Indian
+is a dead Indian.” For Indians are men, after all,
+and astonishingly like the rest of us when one really
+comes to know them.</p>
+
+<p>I pricked up my ears—very glad at his hint of
+another of these folk-stories.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” I answered. “I have noticed that the
+Wolf and the Deer are not on good terms, but
+never knew the reason.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Si, señor</i>,” said he,—for Vitorino knows no
+English, and most of our talk was in Spanish, which
+is easier to me than the Tée-wahn language,—“that
+was very long ago, and now all is changed.
+But once the Wolf and the Deer were like brothers;
+and it is only because the Wolf did very wickedly
+that they are enemies. <i>Con su licencia, señor.</i>”<a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a></p>
+
+<p>“<i>Bueno; anda!</i>”<a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a></p>
+
+<p>So Vitorino leaned his shoulders against a convenient
+rock and began.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">Once upon a time, when the Wolf and the Deer
+were friends, there were two neighbors in the country
+beyond the Rio Puerco, not far from where the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>180]</span>
+pueblo of Laguna (a Quères town) now is. One
+was a Deer-mother who had two fawns, and the
+other a Wolf-mother with two cubs. They had
+very good houses of adobe, just such as we live in
+now, and lived like real people in every way. The
+two were great friends, and neither thought of
+going to the mountain for firewood or to dig
+<i>amole</i><a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> without calling for the other to accompany
+her.</p>
+
+<p>One day the Wolf came to the house of the Deer
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Peé-hlee-oh [Deer-woman], let us
+go to-day for wood and <i>amole</i>, for I must wash
+to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well, friend Káhr-hlee-oh,” replied the
+Deer. “I have nothing to do, and there is food
+in the house for the children while I am gone.
+<i>Toó-kwai!</i> [Let us go].”</p>
+
+<p>So they went together across the plain and into
+the hills till they came to their customary spot.
+They gathered wood and tied it in bundles to bring
+home on their backs, and dug <i>amole</i>, which they
+put in their shawls to carry. Then the Wolf sat
+down under a cedar-tree and said:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ai!</i> But I am tired! Sit down, friend Deer-woman,
+and lay your head in my lap, that we may
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I am not tired,” replied the Deer.</p>
+
+<p>“But just to rest a little,” urged the Wolf. The
+Deer good-naturedly lay down with her head in the
+lap of her friend. But soon the Wolf bent down
+and caught the trusting Deer by the throat, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>181]</span>
+killed her. That was the first time in the world
+that any one betrayed a friend, and from that deed
+comes all the treachery that is.</p>
+
+<p>The false Wolf took off the hide of the Deer, and
+cut off some of the meat and carried it home on her
+load of <i>amole</i> and wood. She stopped at the house
+of the Deer, and gave the Fawns some of the accursed
+meat, saying:</p>
+
+<p>“Friends, Deer-babies, do not fear, but eat;
+your mother met relatives and went to their house,
+and she will not come to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>The Fawns were very hungry, and as soon as
+the Wolf had gone home they built a big fire in the
+fireplace and set the meat to cook. But at once it
+began to sputter and to hiss, and the Fawn who
+was tending it heard it cry, “Look out! look out!
+for this is your mother!”</p>
+
+<p>He was greatly frightened, and called his brother
+to listen, and again the same words came from the
+meat.</p>
+
+<p>“The wicked old Wolf has killed our <i>nana</i>!
+[mama],” they cried, and, pulling the meat from
+the fire, they laid it gently away and sobbed themselves
+to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the Wolf went away to the
+mountain to bring the rest of the deer-meat; and
+when she was gone her Cubs came over to play
+with the Fawns, as they were used to doing.
+When they had played awhile, the Cubs said:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Pee-oo-weé-deh</i> [little Deer], why are you so
+prettily spotted, and why do you have your eyelids
+red, while we are so ugly?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh,” said the Fawns, “that is because when
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>182]</span>
+we were little, like you, our mother put us in a
+room and smoked us, and made us spotted.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Fawn-friends, can’t you spot us, too, so
+that we may be pretty?”</p>
+
+<p>So the Fawns, anxious to avenge the death
+of their mother, built a big fire of corn-cobs in
+the fireplace, and threw coyote-grass on it to
+make a great smoke. Then, shutting the Cubs
+into the room, they plastered up the door and
+windows with mud, and laid a flat rock on top
+of the chimney and sealed it around with mud;
+and climbing down from the roof, they took each
+other’s hands and ran away to the south as fast
+as ever they could.</p>
+
+<p>After they had gone a long way, they came to a
+Coyote. He was walking back and forth with one
+paw to his face, howling dreadfully with the toothache.
+The Fawns said to him very politely:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Ah-bóo!</i> [poor thing]. Old-man friend, we
+are sorry your tooth hurts. But an old Wolf is
+chasing us, and we cannot stay. If she comes this
+way, asking about us, do not tell her, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Een-dah.</i> Little-Deer-friends, I will not tell
+her”—and he began to howl again with pain,
+while the Fawns ran on.</p>
+
+<p>When the Wolf came to her home with the rest
+of the meat, the Cubs were not there; and she
+went over to the house of the Deer. It was all
+sealed and still; and when she pushed in the door,
+there were her Cubs dead in the smoke! When
+she saw that, the old Wolf was wild with rage, and
+vowed to follow the Fawns and eat them without
+mercy. She soon found their tracks leading away
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>185]</span>
+to the south, and began to run very swiftly in
+pursuit.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp49" id="mwmm29" style="max-width: 32.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm29.jpg" id="fig19" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE WOLF, AND THE COYOTE WITH THE TOOTHACHE.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In a little while she came to the Coyote, who
+was still walking up and down, howling so that
+one could hear him a mile away. But not pitying
+his pain, she snarled at him roughly:</p>
+
+<p>“Say, old man! have you seen two Fawns running
+away?”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote paid no attention to her, but kept
+walking with his hand to his mouth, groaning,
+“<i>Mm-m-páh! Mm-m-páh!</i>”</p>
+
+<p>Again she asked him the same question, more
+snappishly, but he only howled and groaned.
+Then she was very angry, and showed her big
+teeth as she said:</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t care about your ‘<i>Mm-m-páh! Mm-m-páh!</i>’
+Tell me if you saw those Fawns, or I’ll eat
+you this very now!”</p>
+
+<p>“Fawns? <em>Fawns?</em>” groaned the Coyote—“I
+have been wandering with the toothache ever since
+the world began. And do you think I have had
+nothing to do but to watch for Fawns? Go along,
+and don’t bother me.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Wolf, who was growing angrier all the
+time, went hunting around till she found the trail,
+and set to running on it as fast as she could go.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the Fawns had come to where two
+Indian boys were playing <i>k’wah-t’hím</i><a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> with their
+bows and arrows, and said to them:</p>
+
+<p>“Friends boys, if an old Wolf comes along and
+asks if you have seen us, don’t tell her, will you?”</p>
+
+<p>The boys promised that they would not, and the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>186]</span>
+Fawns hurried on. But the Wolf could run much
+faster, and soon she came to the boys, to whom she
+cried gruffly:</p>
+
+<p>“You boys! did you see two Fawns running this
+way?”</p>
+
+<p>But the boys paid no attention to her, and went
+on playing their game and disputing: “My arrows
+nearest!” “No; mine is!” “’T ain’t! Mine is!”
+She repeated her question again and again, but got
+no answer till she cried in a rage:</p>
+
+<p>“You little rascals! Answer me about those
+Fawns, or I’ll eat you!”</p>
+
+<p>At that the boys turned around and said:</p>
+
+<p>“We have been here all day, playing <i>k’wah-t’hím</i>,
+and not hunting Fawns. Go on, and do not
+disturb us.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Wolf lost much time with her questions
+and with finding the trail again; but then she began
+to run harder than ever.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time the Fawns had come to the
+bank of the Rio Grande, and there was <i>P’ah-chah-hlóo-hli</i>,
+the Beaver, hard at work cutting down
+a tree with his big teeth. And they said to him
+very politely:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Old-Crosser-of-the-Water, will you
+please pass us over the river?”</p>
+
+<p>The Beaver took them on his back and carried
+them safely across to the other bank. When they
+had thanked him, they asked him not to tell the old
+Wolf about them. He promised he would not, and
+swam back to his work. The Fawns ran and ran,
+across the plain, till they came to a big black hill
+of lava that stands alone in the valley southeast of
+Tomé.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>187]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm30" style="max-width: 50em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm30.jpg" id="fig20" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">THE WOLF MEETS THE BOYS PLAYING WITH THEIR BOWS AND ARROWS.</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>189]</span>
+“Here!” said one of the Fawns, “I am sure
+this must be the place our mother told us about,
+where the Trues of our people live. Let us look.”</p>
+
+<p>And when they came to the top of the hill, they
+found a trap-door in the solid rock. When they
+knocked, the door was opened and a voice called,
+“Enter!” They went down the ladder into a great
+room underground; and there they found all the
+Trues of the Deer-people, who welcomed them and
+gave them food.</p>
+
+<p>When they had told their story, the Trues said:</p>
+
+<p>“Fear not, friends, for we will take care of you.”</p>
+
+<p>And the War-captain picked out fifty strong
+young bucks for a guard.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the Wolf had come to the river,
+and there she found the Beaver hard at work and
+grunting as he cut the tree.</p>
+
+<p>“Old man!” she snarled, “did you see two
+Fawns here?”</p>
+
+<p>But the Beaver did not notice her, and kept on
+walking around the tree, cutting it and grunting,
+“<i>Ah-oó-mah! Ah-oó-mah!</i>”</p>
+
+<p>She was in a terrible rage now, and roared:</p>
+
+<p>“I am not talking ‘<i>Ah-oó-mah!</i>’ to you. I’m
+asking if you saw two Fawns.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the Beaver, “I have been cutting
+trees here by the river ever since I was born, and
+I have no time to think about Fawns.”</p>
+
+<p>The Wolf, crazy with rage, ran up and down the
+bank, and at last came back and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Old man, if you will carry me over the river I
+will pay you; but if you don’t, I’ll eat you up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, wait then till I cut around the tree three
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>190]</span>
+times more,” said the Beaver; and he made her
+wait. Then he jumped down in the water and
+took her on his neck, and began to swim across.
+But as soon as he came where the water was deep,
+he dived to the bottom and stayed there as long as
+he could.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah-h-h!” sputtered the Wolf when he came to
+the surface. As soon as the Beaver got a breath,
+down he went again; and so he kept doing all the
+way across, until the Wolf was nearly drowned—but
+she clung to his neck desperately, and he could
+not shake her off.</p>
+
+<p>When they came to the shore the old Wolf was
+choking, coughing, and crying, and so mad that
+she would not pay the Beaver as she had promised—and
+from that day to this the Beaver will never
+again ferry a Wolf across the river.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she found the trail, and came running
+to the hill. When she knocked on the trap-door a
+voice from within called, “Who?”</p>
+
+<p>“Wolf-woman,” she answered as politely as she
+could, restraining her anger.</p>
+
+<p>“Come down,” said the voice, and hearing her
+name the fifty young Deer-warriors—who had
+carefully whetted their horns—stood ready. The
+door flew open, and she started down the ladder.
+But as soon as she set her foot on the first rung,
+all the Deer-people shouted:</p>
+
+<p>“Look what feet!” For, though the Deer is so
+much larger than the Wolf, it has smaller feet.</p>
+
+<p>At this she was very much ashamed, and pulled
+back her foot; but soon her anger was stronger,
+and she started down again. But each time the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>193]</span>
+Deer-people laughed and shouted, and she drew
+back.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="mwmm31" style="max-width: 50em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm31.jpg" id="fig21" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“THE FAWNS APPEARED SUDDENLY, AND AT SIGHT OF THEM THE WOLF DROPPED THE SPOONFUL OF SOUP.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>At last they were quiet, and she came down the
+ladder. When she had told her story the old men
+of the Deer-people said:</p>
+
+<p>“This is a serious case, and we must not judge
+it lightly. Come, we will make an agreement.
+Let soup be brought, and we will eat together.
+And if you eat all your soup without spilling a
+drop, you shall have the Fawns.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ho!” thought the Wolf. “<em>That</em> is easy enough,
+for I will be very careful.” And aloud she said:
+“It is well. Let us eat.”</p>
+
+<p>So a big bowl of soup was brought, and each
+took a <i>guayave</i><a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> and rolled it like a spoon to dip up
+the soup. The old Wolf was very careful, and had
+almost finished her soup without spilling a drop.
+But just as she was lifting the last sup to her
+mouth the Fawns appeared suddenly in the door
+of the next room, and at sight of them she dropped
+the soup in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>“She spilled!” shouted all the Deer-people, and
+the fifty chosen warriors rushed upon her and tore
+her to pieces with their sharp horns.</p>
+
+<p>That was the end of the treacherous Wolf; and
+from that day the Wolf and the Deer have been
+enemies, and the Wolf is a little afraid of the Deer.
+And the two Fawns? Oh, they still live with the
+Deer-people in that black hill below Tomé.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="label">[92]</a> “With your permission, sir.”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="label">[93]</a> “All right; go ahead!”</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="label">[94]</a> The root of the palmilla, generally used for soap throughout the Southwest.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="label">[95]</a> A sort of walking archery.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="label">[96]</a> An Indian bread made by spreading successive films of blue corn-meal
+batter on a flat hot stone. It looks more like a piece of wasp’s nest than
+anything else, but is very good to eat.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>194]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap26">XXVI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE SOBBING PINE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>NOTHER folk-story told by the Quères colony
+in Isleta also relates to Acoma, perched
+upon the great round cliff in its far, fair valley.</p>
+
+<p>Among the folk-lore heroes of whom every
+Quères lad has heard is Ees-tée-ah Muts, the Arrow
+Boy. He was a great hunter and did many
+remarkable things, but there was once a time when
+all his courage and strength were of no avail,—when
+but for the help of a little squirrel he would
+have perished miserably.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching manhood Ees-tée-ah Muts married
+the daughter of the Kot-chin (chief). She was a
+very beautiful girl and her hunter-husband was
+very fond of her. But, alas! she was secretly a
+witch and every night when Ees-tée-ah Muts was
+asleep she used to fly away to the mountains,
+where the witches held their uncanny meetings.
+You must know that these witches have dreadful
+appetites, and that there is nothing in the world
+of which they are so fond as boiled baby.</p>
+
+<p>Ees-tée-ah Muts, who was a very good man,
+had no suspicion that his wife was guilty of such
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>195]</span>
+practices, and she was very careful to keep him in
+ignorance of it.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when the witch-wife was planning to
+go to a meeting, she stole a fat young baby and
+put it to cook in a great <i>olla</i> (earthen jar) in the
+dark inner room. But before night she found she
+must go for water, and as the strange stone reservoir
+at Acoma is a laborious half-mile from the
+houses, she would be gone some time. So, as she
+departed with a bright-painted <i>tinaja</i> upon her
+head, she charged her husband on no account to
+enter the inner room.</p>
+
+<p>When she was gone Ees-tée-ah Muts began to
+ponder what she had said, and he feared that all
+was not well. He went to the inner room and
+looked around, and when he found the baby cooking
+he was grieved, as any good husband would
+be, for then he knew that his wife was a witch.
+But when his wife returned with water, he said not
+a word, keeping only a sharp lookout to see what
+would come.</p>
+
+<p>Very early that night Ees-tée-ah Muts pretended
+to go to sleep, but he was really very wide awake.
+His wife was quiet, but he could feel that she was
+watching him. Presently a cat came sneaking into
+the room and whispered to the witch-wife:</p>
+
+<p>“Why do you not come to the meeting, for we
+await you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Wait me yet a little,” she whispered, “until the
+man is sound asleep.”</p>
+
+<p>The cat crept away, and Ees-tée-ah Muts kept
+very still. By and by an owl came in and bade
+the woman hurry. And at last, thinking her
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>196]</span>
+husband asleep, the witch-wife rose noiselessly and
+went out. As soon as she was gone, Ees-tée-ah
+Muts got up and followed her at a distance, for it
+was a night of the full moon.</p>
+
+<p>The witch-wife walked a long way till she came
+to the foot of the Black Mesa, where was a great
+dark hole with a rainbow in its mouth. As she
+passed under the rainbow she turned herself into a
+cat and disappeared within the cave. Ees-tée-ah
+Muts crept softly up and peered in. He saw a
+great firelit room full of witches in the shapes of
+ravens and vultures, wolves and other animals of ill
+omen. They were gathered about their feast and
+were enjoying themselves greatly, eating and dancing
+and singing and planning evil to mankind.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time Ees-tée-ah Muts watched them,
+but at last one caught sight of his face peering in
+at the hole.</p>
+
+<p>“Bring him in!” shouted the chief witch, and
+many of them rushed out and surrounded him and
+dragged him into the cave.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said the chief witch, who was very angry,
+“we have caught you as a spy and we ought to kill
+you. But if you will save your life and be one
+of us, go home and bring me the hearts of your
+mother and sister, and I will teach you all our ways,
+so that you shall be a mighty wizard.”</p>
+
+<p>Ees-tée-ah Muts hurried home to Acoma and
+killed two sheep; for he knew, as every Indian
+knows, that it was useless to try to escape from the
+witches. Taking the hearts of the sheep, he
+quickly returned to the chief witch, to whom he
+gave them. But when the chief witch pricked the
+hearts with a sharp stick they swelled themselves
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>197]</span>
+out like a frog. Then he knew that he had been
+deceived, and was very angry, but pretending not
+to care he ordered Ees-tée-ah Muts to go home,
+which the frightened hunter was very glad to do.</p>
+
+<p>But next morning when Ees-tée-ah Muts awoke
+he was not in his own home at all, but lying on a
+tiny shelf far up a dizzy cliff. To jump was certain
+death, for it was a thousand feet to the ground;
+and climb he could not, for the smooth rock rose a
+thousand feet above his head. Then he knew that
+he had been bewitched by the chief of those that
+have the evil road, and that he must die. He
+could hardly move without falling from the narrow
+shelf, and there he lay with bitter thoughts until
+the sun was high overhead.</p>
+
+<p>At last a young Squirrel came running along
+the ledge, and, seeing him, ran back to its mother,
+crying:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Nana! Nana!</i> Here is a dead man lying
+on our ledge!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, he is not dead,” said the Squirrel-mother
+when she had looked, “but I think he is very
+hungry. Here, take this acorn-cup and carry him
+some corn-meal and water.”</p>
+
+<p>The young Squirrel brought the acorn-cup full
+of wet corn-meal, but Ees-tée-ah Muts would not
+take it, for he thought:</p>
+
+<p>“Pah! What is so little when I am fainting
+for food?”</p>
+
+<p>But the Squirrel-mother, knowing what was in
+his heart, said:</p>
+
+<p>“Not so, <i>Sau-kée-ne</i> [friend]. It looks to be
+little, but there will be more than enough. Eat
+and be strong.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>198]</span>
+Still doubting, Ees-tée-ah Muts took the cup
+and ate of the blue corn-meal until he could eat no
+longer, and yet the acorn-cup was not empty.
+Then the young Squirrel took the cup and brought
+it full of water, and though he was very thirsty he
+could not drain it.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend,” said the Squirrel-mother, when
+he was refreshed by his meal, “you cannot yet
+get down from here, where the witches put you;
+but wait, for I am the one that will help you.”</p>
+
+<p>She went to her store-room and brought out a
+pine-cone, which she dropped over the great cliff.
+Ees-tée-ah Muts lay on the narrow ledge as
+patiently as he could, sleeping sometimes and
+sometimes thinking of his strange plight. Next
+morning he could see a stout young pine-tree
+growing at the bottom of the cliff, where he was
+very sure there had been no tree at all the day
+before. Before night it was a large tree, and the
+second morning it was twice as tall. The young
+Squirrel brought him meal and water in the acorn-cup
+twice a day, and now he began to be confident
+that he would escape.</p>
+
+<p>By the evening of the fourth day the magic pine
+towered far above his head, and it was so close to
+the cliff that he could touch it from his shelf.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Friend Man,” said the Squirrel-mother,
+“follow me!” and she leaped lightly into the tree.
+Ees-tée-ah Muts seized a branch and swung over
+into the tree, and letting himself down from bough
+to bough, at last reached the ground in safety.</p>
+
+<p>The Squirrel-mother came with him to the
+ground, and he thanked her for her kindness.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>199]</span>
+“But now I must go back to my home,” she said.
+“Take these seeds of the pine-tree and these piñon-nuts
+which I have brought for you, and be very
+careful of them. When you get home, give your
+wife the pine-seeds, but you must eat the piñons.
+So now, good-by,” and off she went up the tree.</p>
+
+<p>When Ees-tée-ah Muts had come to Acoma and
+climbed the dizzy stone ladder and stood in the
+adobe town, he was very much surprised. For the
+four days of his absence had really been four years,
+and the people looked strange. All had given him
+up for dead, and his witch-wife had married another
+man, but still lived in the same house, which was
+hers<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a>. When Ees-tée-ah Muts entered she seemed
+very glad to see him, and pretended to know nothing
+of what had befallen him. He said nothing
+about it, but talked pleasantly while he munched
+the piñon-nuts, giving her the pine-seeds to eat.
+Her new husband made a bed for Ees-tée-ah Muts,
+and in the morning very early the two men went
+away together on a hunt.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon the mother of the witch-wife
+went to visit her daughter, but when she came near
+the house she stopped in terror, for far up through
+the roof grew a great pine-tree, whose furry arms
+came out at doors and windows. That was the
+end of the witch-wife, for the magic seed had
+sprouted in her stomach, and she was turned into
+a great, sad Pine that swayed above her home,
+and moaned and sobbed forever, as all her Pine-children
+do to this day.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="label">[97]</a> It is one of the fundamental customs of the Pueblos that the house and its
+general contents belong to the wife; the fields and other outside property to
+the husband.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>200]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap27">XXVII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE QUÈRES DIANA</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE is a fragmentary Quères folk-story
+which bears internal evidence that its heroine
+was the mother of the Hero Twins—that is, the
+Moon. The adventure described here is one of
+those which befell the Moon-Mother, as related
+in several myths; though it has been varied, evidently
+by some later story-teller, and the identity
+of the heroine does not appear at first sight. It
+is a story common to all the Quères, and is undoubtedly
+ancient; but as I heard it first in Isleta
+its scene is laid in Laguna, a pueblo only two hundred
+years old.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time the Tah-póh-pee<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> of Laguna
+had a daughter, who was the belle of the village.
+She was very fond of hunting, and killed as much
+game as any of the young men. Several miles
+south of Laguna is a very large sandstone dome
+rising in the plain, and in the heart of this rock
+the Governor’s daughter had hollowed out a room
+in which she used to camp when on her hunting-expeditions.</p>
+
+<p>One day there came a snow that covered the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>201]</span>
+ground so that one could easily track rabbits, and
+taking her bow and arrows she started off to hunt.</p>
+
+<p>She had unusual luck, and by the time she
+reached the hunting-lodge she was loaded down
+with rabbits. The evening was very cold, and she
+was hungry; so, going into the rock-house, she
+built a fire on the hearth and began to roast a rabbit.
+Just as it was cooking a strong west wind
+came up and carried the savory smell from her
+chimney far to the east, till it reached a dark cavern
+in the Sandia Mountains, fifty miles away.
+There lived an old giantess, the terror of all the
+world, and when she caught a whiff of that sweet
+meat she started up and rubbed her big red eye.</p>
+
+<p>“Um!” she cried, “that is good! I am going to see
+where it is, for I have had nothing to eat to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>In two steps she was at the rock-house, and,
+stooping down, she called at the door: “Quáh-tzee?
+[How are you?] What are you cooking in
+there?”</p>
+
+<p>“Rabbits,” said the girl, dreadfully scared at
+that great voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Then give me one,” shouted the old giantess.
+The girl threw one out at the door, and the
+giantess swallowed it at a gulp and demanded
+more. The girl kept throwing them out until all
+were gone. Then the giantess called for her
+<i>manta</i> (dress), and her shawl and her buckskin
+leggings, and ate them all, and at last said:</p>
+
+<p>“Little girl, now you come out, and let me eat
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl began to cry bitterly when she saw that
+great savage eye at the door, which was so small
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>202]</span>
+that the giantess could not get her huge hand in.
+She repeated her commands thrice, and when the
+girl still refused to come out, picked up a great
+boulder and began to hammer the rock-house to
+pieces. But just as she had broken off the roof
+and stooped to pick out the girl, two hunters
+chanced to pass and hear the noise. They crept
+up and shot the giantess through the neck with
+their strong arrows and killed her, and, bringing
+new clothes for the girl, took her home safely to
+Kó-iks (the native name for Laguna), where she
+lived for many years.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="label">[98]</a> Governor.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>203]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap28">XXVIII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">A PUEBLO BLUEBEARD</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>NOTHER fragmentary story of the Quères
+seems to refer to this same remarkable woman.
+You will see the connection when you remember
+that the Moon disappears every month; and I
+should judge that the following myth means that
+the Storm-King steals her.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time a chief of Acoma had a lovely
+daughter. One day a handsome stranger stole her
+and took her away to his home, which was in the
+heart of the Snow Mountain (Mt. San Mateo).
+He was none other than Mast-Truan, one of the
+Storm-Gods. Bringing his captive home, the powerful
+stranger gave her the finest clothing and
+treated her very nicely. But most of the time he
+had to be away from home, attending to the storms,
+and she became very lonesome, for there was no
+one to keep her company but Mast-Truan’s wrinkled
+old mother.</p>
+
+<p>One day when she could stand the loneliness no
+longer, she decided to take a walk through the
+enormous house and look at the rooms which she
+had not seen. Opening a door she came into a
+very large room toward the east; and there were
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>204]</span>
+a lot of women crying and shivering with cold, for
+they had nothing to wear. Going through this
+room she came to another, which was full of gaunt,
+starving women, and here and there one lay dead
+upon the floor; and in the next room were scores
+of bleached and ghastly skeletons. And this was
+what Mast-Truan did with his wives when he was
+tired of them. The girl saw her fate, and, returning
+to her room, sat down and wept—but there
+was no escape, for Mast-Truan’s old hag of a
+mother forever guarded the outer door.</p>
+
+<p>When Mast-Truan came home again, his wife
+said: “It is now long that I have not seen my
+fathers. Let me go home for a little while.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said he, “here is some corn which must
+be shelled. When you have shelled it and ground
+it, I will let you out”; and he showed her four great
+rooms piled from floor to ceiling with ears of corn.
+It was more than one could shell in a year; and
+when her husband went out, she sat down again
+to cry and bemoan her fate.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a queer little old woman appeared before
+her, with a kindly smile. It was a <i>cumúsh-quio</i>
+(fairy-woman).</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter, my daughter?” asked the
+old fairy, gently, “and why do you weep?”</p>
+
+<p>The captive told her all, and the fairy said: “Do
+not fear, daughter, for I will help you, and we will
+have all the corn shelled and ground in four days.”</p>
+
+<p>So they fell to work. For two days the girl
+kept shelling; and though she could not see the
+old fairy at all, she could always hear at her side
+the click of the ears together. Then for two days
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>205]</span>
+she kept grinding on her <i>metate</i>, apparently alone,
+but hearing the constant grind of another <i>metate</i>
+close beside her. At the end of the fourth day the
+last kernel had been scrubbed into blue meal, and
+she was very happy. Then the old fairy-woman
+appeared again, bringing a large basket and a rope.
+She opened the doors to all the rooms where the
+poor women were prisoners, and bade them all get
+into the basket one by one. Mast-Truan had taken
+away the ladder from the house when he left, that
+no one might be able to get out; but with her
+basket and rope the good old fairy-woman let them
+all down to the ground, and told them to hurry
+home—which they did as fast as ever their poor,
+starved legs could carry them. Then the fairy-woman
+and the girl escaped, and made their way
+to Acoma. So there was a Moon again—and that
+it <em>was</em> the Moon, we may be very sure; since this
+same girl became the mother of the Hero Twins,
+who were assuredly Children of the Moon.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>206]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap29">XXIX<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE HERO TWINS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HAT the heroes of “The Magic Hide-and-Seek”
+were really the Pueblo Castor and
+Pollux, the twin offspring of the Sun-Father and
+the Moon-Mother, is more than probable. For
+some reason which I do not know, these demigods
+do not figure as clearly in the Tée-wahn myths as
+among the other Pueblos, the Navajos and the
+Apaches; but that they are believed in, even in
+Isleta, there can be no doubt. They were the ones
+who led mankind forth from its first home in the
+dark center of the earth.<a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> The rainbow is their
+bow, the lightnings are their arrows. Among the
+other Pueblos there are countless folk-stories about
+these Hero Twins; and the following example
+myth will quickly remind you of the boys who
+played hide-and-seek. It is told in Isleta, though
+I have never heard it from the Tée-wahn people
+there. Ever since the great drouth of a generation
+ago, about one hundred and fifty Quères,
+starved out from the pueblos of Acoma and Laguna,
+have dwelt in Isleta, and they are now a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>207]</span>
+permanent part of the Village, recognized by representation
+in the civil and religious government,
+though speaking an altogether different language.
+Tée-wahn and Quères cannot understand each
+other in their own tongues, so they have to communicate
+in Spanish.</p>
+
+<p>Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee, as the Hero Twins
+are named in Quères, had the Sun for a father.
+Their mother died when they were born, and lay
+lifeless upon the hot plain. But the two wonderful
+boys, as soon as they were a minute old, were big
+and strong, and began playing.</p>
+
+<p>There chanced to be in a cliff to the southward a
+nest of white crows; and presently the young crows
+said: “<i>Nana</i>, what is that over there? Isn’t it
+two babies?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied the Mother-Crow, when she had
+taken a look. “Wait and I will bring them.” So
+she brought the boys safely, and then their dead
+mother; and, rubbing a magic herb on the body
+of the latter, soon brought her to life.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee were
+sizable boys, and the mother started homeward
+with them.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said she when they reached the edge of
+the valley and could look across to that wondrous
+rock whereon stands Acoma, “go to yonder town,
+my sons, for that is Ah-ko, where live your grandfather
+and grandmother, my parents; and I will
+wait here. Go ye in at the west end of the town
+and stand at the south end of the council-grounds
+until some one speaks to you; and ask them to
+take you to the Cacique, for he is your grandfather.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>208]</span>
+You will know his house, for the ladder to it has
+three uprights instead of two. When you go in
+and tell your story, he will ask you a question to
+see if you are really his grandchildren, and will
+give you four chances to answer what he has in a
+bag in the corner. No one has ever been able to
+guess what is in it, but there are birds.”</p>
+
+<p>The Twins did as they were bidden, and
+presently came to Acoma and found the house of
+the old Cacique. When they entered and told
+their story, he said: “Now I will try you. What
+is in yonder bag?”</p>
+
+<p>“A rattlesnake,” said the boys.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said the Cacique, “it is not a rattlesnake.
+Try again.”</p>
+
+<p>“Birds,” said the boys.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, they are birds. Now I know that you are
+truly my grandchildren, for no one else could ever
+guess.” And he welcomed them gladly, and sent
+them back with new dresses and jewelry to bring
+their mother.</p>
+
+<p>When she was about to arrive, the Twins ran
+ahead to the house and told her father, mother, and
+sister to leave the house until she should enter; but
+not knowing what was to come, they would not go
+out. When she had climbed the big ladder to the
+roof and started down through the trap-door by
+the room-ladder, her sister cried out with joy at
+seeing her, and she was so startled that she fell
+from the ladder and broke her neck, and never
+could be brought to life again.</p>
+
+<p>Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee grew up to astounding
+adventures and achievements. While still
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>209]</span>
+very young in years, they did very remarkable
+things; for they had a miraculously rapid growth,
+and at an age when other boys were toddling
+about home, these Hero Twins had already become
+very famous hunters and warriors. They
+were very fond of stories of adventure, like less
+precocious lads; and after the death of their
+mother they kept their grandmother busy telling
+them strange tales. She had a great many anecdotes
+of a certain ogre-giantess who lived in the
+dark gorges of the mountains to the South, and so
+much did Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee hear of this
+wonderful personage—who was the terror of all
+that country—that their boyish ambition was fired.</p>
+
+<p>One day when their grandmother was busy they
+stole away from home with their bows and arrows,
+and walked miles and miles, till they came to a
+great forest at the foot of the mountain. In the
+edge of it sat the old Giant-woman, dozing in the
+sun, with a huge basket beside her. She was so
+enormous and looked so fierce that the boys’ hearts
+stood still, and they would have hidden, but just
+then she caught sight of them, and called: “Come,
+little boys, and get into this basket of mine, and I
+will take you to my house.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” said Máw-Sahv, bravely hiding his
+alarm. “If you will take us through this big
+forest, which we would like to see, we will go with
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>The Giant-woman promised, and the lads
+clambered into her basket, which she took upon
+her back and started off. As she passed through
+the woods, the boys grabbed lumps of pitch from the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>210]</span>
+tall pines and smeared it all over her head and
+back so softly that she did not notice it. Once she
+sat down to rest, and the boys slyly put a lot of big
+stones in the basket, set fire to her pitched hair,
+and hurriedly climbed a tall pine.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the Giant-woman got up and started
+on toward home; but in a minute or two her head
+and <i>manta</i> were all of a blaze. With a howl that
+shook the earth, she dropped the basket and rolled
+on the ground, grinding her great head into the
+sand until she at last got the fire extinguished.
+But she was badly scorched and very angry, and
+still angrier when she looked in the basket and
+found only a lot of stones. She retraced her steps
+until she found the boys hidden in the pine-tree,
+and said to them: “Come down, children, and get
+into my basket, that I may take you to my house,
+for now we are almost there.”</p>
+
+<p>The boys, knowing that she could easily break
+down the tree if they refused, came down. They
+got into the basket, and soon she brought them to
+her home in the mountain. She set them down
+upon the ground and said: “Now, boys, go and
+bring me a lot of wood, that I may make a fire in
+the oven and bake you some sweet cakes.”</p>
+
+<p>The boys gathered a big pile of wood, with
+which she built a roaring fire in the adobe oven
+outside the house. Then she took them and
+washed them very carefully, and taking them by
+the necks, thrust them into the glowing oven and
+sealed the door with a great, flat rock, and left
+them there to be roasted.</p>
+
+<p>But the Trues were friends of the Hero Twins,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>211]</span>
+and did not let the heat harm them at all. When
+the old Giant-woman had gone into the house,
+Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee broke the smaller
+stone that closed the smoke-hole of the oven, and
+crawled out from their fiery prison unsinged.
+They ran around and caught snakes and toads
+and gathered up dirt and dropped them down into
+the oven through the smoke-hole; and then,
+watching when the Giant-woman’s back was
+turned, they sneaked into the house and hid in a
+huge <i>olla</i> on the shelf.</p>
+
+<p>Very early in the morning the Giant-woman’s
+baby began to cry for some boy-meat. “Wait till
+it is well cooked,” said the mother; and hushed
+the child till the sun was well up. Then she went
+out and unsealed the oven, and brought in the sad
+mess the boys had put there. “They have cooked
+away to almost nothing,” she said; and she and
+the Giant-baby sat down to eat. “Isn’t this
+nice?” said the baby; and Máw-Sahv could not
+help saying, “You nasty things, to like that!”</p>
+
+<p>“Eh? Who is that?” cried the Giant-woman,
+looking around till she found the boys hidden in
+the <i>olla</i>. So she told them to come down, and
+gave them some sweet cakes, and then sent them
+out to bring her some more wood.</p>
+
+<p>It was evening when they returned with a big
+load of wood, which Máw-Sahv had taken pains to
+get green. He had also picked up in the mountains
+a long, sharp splinter of quartz.<a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> The evening
+was cool, and they built a big fire in the fireplace.
+But immediately, as the boys had planned,
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>212]</span>
+the green wood began to smoke at a dreadful rate,
+and soon the room was so dense with it that they
+all began to cough and strangle. The Giant-woman
+got up and opened the window and put her
+head out for a breath of fresh air; and Máw-Sahv,
+pulling out the white-hot splinter of quartz from
+the fire, stabbed her in the back so that she died.
+Then they killed the Giant-baby, and at last felt
+that they were safe.</p>
+
+<p>Now the Giant-woman’s house was a very large
+one, and ran far back into the very heart of the
+mountain. Having got rid of their enemies, the
+Hero Twins decided to explore the house; and,
+taking their bows and arrows, started boldly down
+into the deep, dark rooms. After traveling a long
+way in the dark, they came to a huge room in
+which corn and melons and pumpkins were growing
+abundantly. On and on they went, till at last
+they heard the growl of distant thunder. Following
+the sound, they came presently to a room in
+the solid rock, wherein the lightning was stored.
+Going in, they took the lightning and played with it
+awhile, throwing it from one to the other, and at last
+started home, carrying their strange toy with them.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached Acoma and told their grandmother
+of their wonderful adventures, she held up
+her withered old hands in amazement. And she
+was nearly scared to death when they began to
+play with the lightning, throwing it around the
+house as though it had been a harmless ball, while
+the thunder rumbled till it shook the great rock of
+Acoma. They had the blue lightning which belongs
+in the West; and the yellow lightning of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>213]</span>
+North; and the red lightning of the East; and the
+white lightning of the South; and with all these
+they played merrily.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not very long till Shée-wo-nah, the
+Storm-King, had occasion to use the lightning;
+and when he looked in the room where he was
+wont to keep it, and found it gone, his wrath knew
+no bounds. He started out to find who had stolen
+it; and passing by Acoma he heard the thunder as
+the Hero Twins were playing ball with the lightning.
+He pounded on the door and ordered them
+to give him his lightning, but the boys refused.
+Then he summoned the storm, and it began to rain
+and blow fearfully outside; while within the boys
+rattled their thunder in loud defiance, regardless
+of their grandmother’s entreaties to give the Storm-King
+his lightning.</p>
+
+<p>It kept raining violently, however, and the water
+came pouring down the chimney until the room
+was nearly full, and they were in great danger of
+drowning. But luckily for them, the Trues were
+still mindful of them; and just in the nick of time
+sent their servant, Teé-oh-pee, the Badger, who is
+the best of diggers, to dig a hole up through the
+floor; all the water ran out, and they were saved.
+And so the Hero Twins outwitted the Storm-King.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">South of Acoma, in the pine-clad gorges and
+mesas, the world was full of Bears. There was
+one old She-Bear in particular, so huge and fierce
+that all men feared her; and not even the boldest
+hunter dared go to the south—for there she had
+her home with her two sons.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>214]</span>
+Máw-sahv and Oó-yah-wee were famous hunters,
+and always wished to go south; but their
+grandmother always forbade them. One day,
+however, they stole away from the house, and got
+into the cañon. At last they came to the She-Bear’s
+house; and there was old Quée-ah asleep
+in front of the door. Máw-sahv crept up very
+carefully and threw in her face a lot of ground
+<i>chile</i>,<a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> and ran. At that the She-Bear began to
+sneeze, <i>ah-hútch! ah-hútch!</i> She could not stop,
+and kept making <i>ah-hútch</i> until she sneezed herself
+to death.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Twins took their thunder-knives and
+skinned her. They stuffed the great hide with
+grass, so that it looked like a Bear again, and tied
+a buckskin rope around its neck.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said Máw-sahv, “We will give our
+grandma a trick!”</p>
+
+<p>So, taking hold of the rope, they ran toward
+Acoma, and the Bear came behind them as if leaping.
+Their grandmother was going for water;
+and from the top of the cliff she saw them running
+so in the valley, and the Bear jumping behind
+them. She ran to her house and painted one side
+of her face black with charcoal, and the other side
+red with the blood of an animal;<a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> and, taking a bag
+of ashes, ran down the cliff and out at the Bear, to
+make it leave the boys and come after her.</p>
+
+<p>But when she saw the trick, she reproved the
+boys for their rashness—but in her heart she was
+very proud of them.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="label">[99]</a> They are represented in the sacred dances by the Káh-pee-óo-nin, “the
+Dying-of-Cold” (because they are always naked except for the breech-clout).</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="label">[100]</a> A thunder-knife.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="label">[101]</a> The fiery red-pepper of the Southwest.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="label">[102]</a> Ancient tokens of mourning.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>215]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap30">XXX<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE HUNGRY GRANDFATHERS</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span> DISOBEDIENT child is something I have
+never seen among the Pueblos, in all the
+years I have lived with them. The parents are
+very kind, too. My little <i>amigos</i> in Isleta and the
+other Pueblo towns—for they are my friends in all—are
+never spoiled; but neither are they punished
+much.<a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> Personal acquaintance with a spanking is
+what very few of them have. The idea of obedience
+is inborn and inbred. A word is generally
+enough; and for extreme cases it only needs the
+threat: “Look out, or I will send for the Grandfathers!”</p>
+
+<p>Now, perhaps you do not know who the Grandfathers
+are; but every Pueblo youngster does. It
+has nothing to do with the “truly” grandpa, who
+is as lovely an institution among the Tée-wahn as
+anywhere else. No, the <i>Abuelos</i> were of an altogether
+different sort. That name is Spanish, and
+has three applications in Isleta: real grandparents;
+the remarkable masked officials of a certain
+dance; and the bad Old Ones. These last
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>216]</span>
+are called in the Tée-wahn tongue <i>T’ai-kár-nin</i>
+(Those-Who-Eat-People). They were, in fact, aboriginal
+Ogres, who once sadly ravaged Isleta.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>T’ai-kár-nin</i> had no town, but dwelt in
+caves of the lava mountain a couple of miles west
+of this village—the <i>Kú-mai</i> hill. It is a bad
+place at best: bleak, black, rough, and forbidding—just
+the place that a properly constituted Ogre
+would choose for his habitation. In the first place,
+it is to the west of the town, which is “bad medicine”
+in itself to any Indian, for that point of the
+compass belongs to the dead and to bad spirits.
+Then its color is against it; and, still worse, it is to
+this day the common stamping-ground of all the
+witches in this part of the country, where they
+gather at night for their diabolical caucuses. Of
+its serious disrepute I can convey no better idea
+to the enlightened and superstitionless American
+mind than by saying that it is a sort of aboriginal
+“haunted house.”</p>
+
+<p>So the hill of <i>Kú-mai</i> was a peculiarly fit place
+for the Ogres to dwell in. Deep in its gloomy
+bowels they huddled on the white sand which floors
+all the caves there; and crannies overhead carried
+away the smoke from their fires, which curled from
+crevices at the top of the peak far above them.
+Ignorant Americans would probably have taken it
+for a volcanic emission; but the good people of
+Shee-eh-whíb-bak knew better.</p>
+
+<p>These Ogres were larger than ordinary men,
+but otherwise carried no outward sign of their odious
+calling. Their teeth were just like anybody’s
+good teeth, and they had neither “tushes” nor
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>217]</span>
+horns nor hoofs. Indeed, except for their unusual
+size, they would have been easily mistaken for
+Indians of some distant tribe. But, <i>ay de mi</i>!
+How strong they were! One could easily whip
+five common men in a bunch—“men even as
+strong as my son, Francisco,” says Desiderio; and
+Francisco is as stout as a horse.</p>
+
+<p>They were people of very fastidious palates,
+these Ogres. Nothing was good enough for them
+except human flesh—and young at that. Their
+fare was entirely baby—baby young, baby brown,
+and baby very fat. They never molested the
+adults; but as often as they found an appetite they
+descended upon the village, scooped up what children
+they could lay their hands upon, and carried
+them off to their caves. There they had enormous
+<i>ollas</i>, into which half a dozen children could be
+thrown at once.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed to be some spell about these
+Ogres—besides their frequent hungry spells—for
+the Pueblos, who were so brave in the face of other
+foes, never dared fight these terrible cave-dwellers.
+They continued to devastate the village, until
+babies were at a premium, and few to be had at
+any price; and the only way the people dared to
+try to circumvent them was by strategy. In time
+it came about that every house where there were
+children, or a reasonable hope of them, had secret
+cubby-holes back of the thick adobe walls; with
+little doors which shut flush with the wall and were
+also plastered with adobe, so that when they were
+shut a stranger—even if he were a sharp-eyed
+Indian—would never dream of their existence.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>218]</span>
+And whenever arose the dreaded cry, “Here come
+the <i>T’ai-kár-nin</i>!” the children were hustled,
+shivering and noiseless, into the secret recesses,
+and the doors were shut. Then Mr. Ogre could
+come in and peer and sniff about as he liked, but
+no chance to fill his market-basket could he find.
+And when parents were forced to go away and
+leave the babies behind, the poor young ones were
+inclosed in their safe but gloomy prisons, and there
+in darkness and silence had to await the parental
+home-coming. These inconveniences were gladly
+borne, however, since they preserved the children—and
+we all know that preserved baby is better
+than baby-stew. It was, of course, rather rough
+on the Ogres, who began to find all their belts
+most distressfully loose; but no one seemed to
+consider their feelings. They were pretty well
+starved when the Spaniards came and delivered
+the suffering Isleteños by driving off these savage
+neighbors. This looks suspiciously as if the whole
+myth of the Ogres had sprung from the attacks of
+the cruel Apaches and Navajos in the old days.</p>
+
+<p>There was one queer thing about these Ogres—on
+their forages they always wore buckskin
+masks, just like those of the <i>Abuelos</i> of the sacred
+dance. Their bare faces were seen sometimes by
+hunters who encountered them on the <i>llano</i>, but
+never here in town. It was in connection with
+these masks that Isleta had a great sensation recently.
+The Hungry Grandfathers had been almost
+forgotten, except as a word to change the
+minds of children who had about quarter of a mind
+to be naughty; but interest was revived by a
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>219]</span>
+discovery of which my venerable friend Desiderio
+Peralta was the hero.</p>
+
+<p>This dear old man—news of his death has come
+to me as I write this very chapter—was a remarkable
+character. He was one of “the oldest inhabitants”
+of New Mexico—older than any other
+Indian among the twelve hundred of Isleta, except
+tottering Diego; and that is saying a great deal.
+His hair was very gray, and his kindly old face
+such an incredible mass of wrinkles that I used to
+fancy Father Time himself must have said: “No,
+no! You apprentices never do a thing right!
+Here, <em>this</em> is the way to put on wrinkles!” and that
+he then and there took old Desiderio for a model,
+and showed the journeymen wrinkle-makers a trick
+they never dreamed of. Certainly the job was never
+so well done before. From chin to hair-roots,
+from ear to ear, was such a crowded, tangled, inextricable
+maze of furrows and cross-harrow lines as
+I firmly believe never dwelt together on any other
+one human face. Why, Desiderio could have furnished
+an army of old men with wrinkles! I never
+saw him smile without fearing that some of those
+wrinkles were going to fall off the edge, so crowded
+were they at best!</p>
+
+<p>But if his face was <i>arrugada</i>, his brain was not.
+He was bright and chipper as a young blackbird,
+and it was only of late that a touch of rheumatism
+took the youth out of his legs. Until recently he
+held the important position of Captain of War
+for the pueblo; and only two years ago I had the
+pleasure of going with two hundred <em>other</em> Indians
+on a huge rabbit-hunt which was under his
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>220]</span>
+personal supervision, and in which he was as active as
+any one, both on his feet and with the unerring
+boomerang. His eyes were good to find about as
+much through the sights of a rifle as anybody’s;
+and on the whole he was worth a good deal more
+than I expect to be some seventy years from now.
+He was a good neighbor, too; and I had few
+pleasanter hours than those spent in talking with
+this genial old shrivel, who was <i>muy sabio</i> in all
+the folk-lore and wisdom of his unfathomable race;
+and very close-mouthed about it, too—as they all
+are. Still, there were some things which he seemed
+willing to confide to me; and he always had an attentive
+listener.</p>
+
+<p>Desiderio was not yet too old to herd his own
+cattle during the season when they roam abroad;
+and, while thus engaged, he made a discovery
+which set the whole quiet village agog, though
+no other outsider ever heard of it.</p>
+
+<p>One day in 1889 Desiderio started out from the
+village, driving his cattle. Having steered them
+across the <i>acequia</i> and up the sand-hills to the beginning
+of the plain, he climbed to the top of the
+<i>Kú-mai</i> to watch them through the day—as has
+been the custom of Isleta herders from time immemorial.
+In wandering over the rocky top of the
+peak, he came to a ledge of rocks on the southeast
+spur of the hill; and there found a fissure, at one
+end of which was a hole as large as a man’s head.
+Desiderio put his face and his wrinkles down to
+the hole to see what he could see; and all was
+dark inside. But if his eyes strained in vain, his
+ears did not. From far down in the bowels of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>221]</span>
+mountain came a strange roaring, as of a heavy
+wind. Desiderio was somewhat dismayed at this;
+for he knew at once that he had found one of the
+chimneys of the Ogres; but he did not run away.
+Hunting around awhile, he found in the fissures
+of the rocks some ancient buckskin masks—the
+very ones worn by the Ogres, of course. He put
+them back, and coming to town straightway told
+the medicine-men of the Black Eyes—one of the
+two parties here. They held a <i>junta</i>; and after
+mature deliberation decided to go and get the
+masks. This was done, and the masks are now
+treasured in the Black Eye medicine-house.</p>
+
+<p>I have several times carefully explored the <i>Kú-mai</i>—a
+difficult and tiresome task, thanks to the
+knife-like lava fragments which cover it everywhere,
+and which will cut a pair of new strong
+shoes to pieces in an afternoon. It is true that
+in this hill of bad repute there are several lava-caves,
+with floors of white sand blown in from the
+<i>llano</i>; and that in these caves there are a few human
+bones. No doubt some of the savage nomads
+camped or lived there. None of those famous <i>ollas</i>
+are visible; nor have I ever been able to find any
+other relics of the Hungry Grandfathers.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="label">[103]</a> I must qualify this now. In the last two years I have seen one spoiled
+child—just one, in ten years’ acquaintance with 9000 Pueblos!</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>222]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm32" style="max-width: 38.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm32.jpg" alt="Decorative title: The Coyote">
+</figure>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="chap31">XXXI<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">THE COYOTE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>LL the animals with which the Tée-wahn are
+familiar—the buffalo (which they used to hunt
+on the vast plains to the eastward), the bear, deer,
+antelope, mountain lion, badger, wild turkey, fox,
+eagle, crow, buzzard, rabbit, and so on—appear in
+their legends and fairy tales, as well as in their religious
+ceremonials and beliefs. Too-wháy-deh,
+the Coyote,<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> or little prairie wolf, figures in countless
+stories, and always to his own disadvantage.
+Smart as he is in some things, he believes whatever
+is told him; and by his credulity becomes the
+butt of all the other animals, who never tire of
+“April-fooling” him. He is also a great coward.
+To call an Indian here “<i>Too-wháy-deh</i>” is one of
+the bitterest insults that can be offered him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>223]</span>
+You have already heard how the Coyote fared
+at the hands of the fun-loving Bear, and of the
+Crows and the Blackbirds. A very popular tale is
+that of his adventure with a bright cousin of his.</p>
+
+<p>Once upon a time Too-wháy-shur-wée-deh, the
+Little-Blue-Fox,<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> was wandering near a pueblo,
+and chanced to come to the threshing-floors, where
+a great many crows were hopping. Just then the
+Coyote passed, very hungry; and while yet far off,
+said: “Ai! how the stomach cries! I will just
+eat Little-Blue-Fox.” And coming, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Little-Blue-Fox, you have troubled me
+enough! You are the cause of my being chased
+by the dogs and people, and now I will pay you. I
+am going to eat you up this very now!”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Coyote-friend,” answered the Little-Blue-Fox,
+“<em>don’t</em> eat me up! I am here guarding these
+chickens, for there is a wedding in yonder house,
+which is my master’s, and these chickens are for
+the wedding-dinner. Soon they will come for the
+chickens, and will invite me to the dinner—and
+you can come also.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the Coyote, “if <em>that</em> is so, I will
+not eat you, but will help you watch the chickens.”
+So he lay down beside him.</p>
+
+<p>At this, Little-Blue-Fox was troubled, thinking
+how to get away; and at last he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Too-wháy-deh, I make strange that
+they have not before now come for the chickens.
+Perhaps they have forgotten. The best way is for
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>224]</span>
+me to go to the house and see what the servants
+are doing.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” said the Coyote. “Go, then, and
+I will guard the chickens for you.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Little-Blue-Fox started toward the house;
+but getting behind a small hill, he ran away with
+fast feet. When it was a good while, and he did
+not come back, the Coyote thought: “While he is
+gone, I will give myself some of the chickens.”
+Crawling up on his belly to the threshing-floor, he
+gave a great leap. But the chickens were only
+crows, and they flew away. Then he began to
+say evil of the Little-Blue-Fox for giving him a
+trick, and started on the trail, vowing: “I will eat
+him up wherever I catch him.”</p>
+
+<p>After many miles he overtook the Little-Blue-Fox,
+and with a bad face said: “Here! Now I am
+going to eat you up!”</p>
+
+<p>The other made as if greatly excited, and answered:
+“No, friend Coyote! Do you not hear
+that <i>tombé</i><a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a>?”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote listened, and heard a drum in the
+pueblo.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the Little-Blue-Fox, “I am called
+for that dance,<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> and very soon they will come for
+me. Won’t you go too?”</p>
+
+<p>“If that is so, I will not eat you, but we will go
+to the dance.” And the Coyote sat down and
+began to comb his hair and to make himself pretty
+with face-paint. When no one came, the Little-Blue-Fox
+said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>225]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp49" id="mwmm33" style="max-width: 33.0625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm33.jpg" id="fig22" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“THERE THEY STOOD SIDE BY SIDE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a><!-- blank page --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>227]</span>
+“Friend Coyote, I make strange that the <i>alguazil</i>
+does not come. It is best for me to go up
+on this hill, whence I can see into the village.
+You wait here.”</p>
+
+<p>“He will not dare to give me another trick,”
+thought the Coyote. So he replied: “It is well.
+But do not forget to call me.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Little-Blue-Fox went up the hill; and
+as soon as he was out of sight, he began to run
+for his life.</p>
+
+<p>Very long the Coyote waited; and at last, being
+tired, went up on the hill—but there was no one
+there. Then he was very angry, and said: “I
+will follow him, and eat him surely! <em>Nothing</em> shall
+save him!” And finding the trail, he began to
+follow as fast as a bird.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the Little-Blue-Fox came to some high
+cliffs, he looked back and saw the Coyote coming
+over a hill. So he stood up on his hind feet and
+put his fore paws up against the cliff, and made
+many groans, and was as if much excited. In a
+moment came the Coyote, very angry, crying:
+“Now you shall not escape me! I am going to eat
+you up now—now!”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, friend Too-wháy-deh!” said the other;
+“for I saw this cliff falling down, and ran to hold
+it up. If I let go, it will fall and kill us both. But
+come, help me to hold it.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Coyote stood up and pushed against
+the cliff with his fore paws, very hard; and there
+they stood side by side.</p>
+
+<p>Time passing so, the Little-Blue-Fox said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Too-wháy-deh, it is long that I am
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>228]</span>
+holding up the cliff, and I am very tired and thirsty.
+You are fresher. So you hold up the cliff while I
+go and hunt water for us both; for soon you too
+will be thirsty. There is a lake somewhere on the
+other side of this mountain; I will find it and get a
+drink, and then come back and hold up the cliff
+while you go.”</p>
+
+<p>The Coyote agreed, and the Little-Blue-Fox
+ran away over the mountain till he came to the
+lake, just as the moon was rising.</p>
+
+<p>But soon the Coyote was very tired and thirsty,
+for he held up the cliff with all his might. At last
+he said: “Ai! how hard it is! I am so thirsty
+that I will go to the lake, even if I die!”</p>
+
+<p>So he began to let go of the cliff, slowly, slowly—until
+he held it only with his finger-nails; and then
+he made a great jump away backward, and ran as
+hard as he could to a hill. But when he looked
+around and saw that the cliff did not fall, he was
+very angry, and swore to eat Too-wháy-shur-wée-deh
+the very minute he should catch him.</p>
+
+<p>Running on the trail, he came to the lake; and
+there the Little-Blue-Fox was lying on the bank,
+whining as if greatly excited. “Now I <em>will</em> eat you
+up, this minute!” cried the Coyote. But the other
+said: “No, Friend Too-wháy-deh! Don’t eat <em>me</em>
+up! I am waiting for some one who can swim as
+well as you can. I just bought a big cheese<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> from
+a shepherd to share with you; but when I went to
+drink, it slipped out of my hands into the water.
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a><!-- original location of illustration --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a><!-- blank page --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>231]</span>
+Come here, and I will show you.” He took the
+Coyote to the edge of the high bank, and pointed
+to the moon in the water.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp55" id="mwmm34" style="max-width: 36.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm34.jpg" id="fig23" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">“‘HOW SHALL I GET IT?’ SAID THE COYOTE.”</figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>“M—m!” said the Coyote, who was fainting
+with hunger. “But how shall I get it? It is very
+deep in the water, and I shall float up before I can
+dive to it.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is true, friend,” said the other. “There
+is but one way. We must tie some stones to your
+neck, to make you heavy so you can go down
+to it.”</p>
+
+<p>So they hunted about until they found a buckskin
+thong and some large stones; and the Little-Blue-Fox
+tied the stones to the Coyote’s neck, the
+Coyote holding his chin up, to help.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, friend Too-wháy-deh, come here to the
+edge of the bank and stand ready. I will take you
+by the back and count <i>weem</i>, <i>wée-si</i>, <i>p’áh-chu</i>!
+And when I say <em>three</em>, you must jump and I will
+push—for now you are very heavy.”</p>
+
+<p>So he took the Coyote by the back of the neck,
+swaying him back and forth as he counted. And
+at “<i>p’áh-chu!</i>” he pushed hard, and the Coyote
+jumped, and went into the deep water, and—never
+came out again!</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="label">[104]</a> Pronounced Coy-óh-ty.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="label">[105]</a> He is always a hero, and as smart as the Coyote is stupid. His beautiful
+pelt is an important part of the costume worn in many of the sacred
+dances of the Tée-wahn.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="label">[106]</a> Pronounced tom-báy. The sacred drum used in Pueblo dances.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="label">[107]</a> In all such Indian dances the participants are named by the officials.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="label">[108]</a> Of course chickens and cheeses were not known to the Pueblos before the
+Spanish conquest; and the cheese is so vital a part of the story that I hardly
+think it can be an interpolation. So this tale, though very old, is probably
+not ancient—that is, it has been invented since 1600.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>232]</span></p>
+<h2 id="chap32">XXXII<br>
+<span class="vsmlfont">DOCTOR FIELD-MOUSE</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was the evening of the 14th of March. In
+the valley of the Rio Grande, that stands at the
+end of the winter. Now it is to open the big
+mother-canal that comes from the river to all the
+fields, giving them to drink after their long thirst;
+and now to plow the <i>milpas</i>, and to uncover the
+buried grape-vines, and make ready for the farmer’s
+work.</p>
+
+<p>As the door opened to admit stalwart Francisco
+to the big flickering room where we were all sitting
+in silence, the long, shrill wail of a Coyote,
+away up on the Accursed Hill, blew in after him
+on the boisterous March wind. The boys pricked
+up their ears; and bright-faced Manuelito<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> turned
+to his white-headed grandfather, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Tata</i>, why is it that Too-wháy-deh always
+howls so? Perhaps he has a pain; for he has
+been crying ever since the beginning of the world—as
+they told us in the story of the Fawns and
+the She-Wolf.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, Unknowing!” answered the old man,
+kindly. “Hast thou never heard of the Coyote’s
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>233]</span>
+toothache, and who was the first medicine-man in
+all the world? It is not well not to know that;
+for from that comes all that we know to cure the
+sick. And for that, I will tell—but it is the last
+story of the year. For to-morrow is <i>Tu-shée-wim</i>,
+the Spring Medicine-Dance; and the snakes are
+coming out from their winter houses. After that,
+we must not tell of the Things of Old. For it
+is very long ago; and if one made a mistake in
+telling, and said that which was not all true, <i>Ch’áh-rah-ráh-deh</i>
+would bite him, and he would die.<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a>
+But this one I will tell thee.”</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">In the First Days, when the people had broken
+through the crust of the earth, and had come up
+out of their dark prison, underground, and crossed
+Shee-p’ah-póon, the great Black Lake of Tears,
+they came to the shore on this side. Then it came
+that all the animals were made; and very soon the
+Coyote was sent by the Trues to carry a buckskin
+bag far south, and not to open it until he should
+come to the Peak of the White Clouds. For
+many days he ran south, with the bag on his back.
+But there was nothing to eat, and he grew very
+hungry. At last he thought: “Perhaps in this
+bag there is to eat.” So he took it from his back,
+and untied the thongs, and looked in. But there
+was nothing in it except the stars; and as soon as
+the bag was opened they all flew up into the sky,
+where they are to this day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>234]</span>
+When the Trues saw that Too-wháy-deh had
+disobeyed, they were angry, and made it that his
+punishment should be to wander up and down forever,
+howling with the toothache and finding no rest.</p>
+
+<p>So Too-wháy-deh went out with his toothache,
+running all over the world groaning and crying;
+and when the other four-feet slept he could only
+sit and howl. Because he came to talk with the
+other animals, if they could not cure him, they
+caught the toothache too; and that is the reason
+why they sometimes cry. But none have it like
+the Coyote, who can find no rest.</p>
+
+<p>In those times there were no medicine-men in
+the world,—not even of the people,—and the animals
+found no cure.</p>
+
+<p>Time passing so, it came one day that T’hoo-chée-deh,
+the smallest of Mice, who lives in the little
+mounds around the chapparo-bush, was making
+his road underground, when he came to a kind of
+root with a sweet smell. T’hoo-chée-deh was very
+wise; and he took the root, and put it with others
+in a buckskin pouch he carried under his left arm.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days Kee-oo-ée-deh, the Prairie-Dog,
+came with his head all fat with toothache, and said:</p>
+
+<p>“Friend Field-Mouse, can you not cure me of this
+pain? For all say you are very wise with herbs.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know,” answered T’hoo-chée-deh.
+“But we will try. For I have found a new root,
+and perhaps it is good.”</p>
+
+<p>So he mixed it with other roots, all pounded,
+and put it on the cheek of Kee-oo-ée-deh; and
+in a little, the toothache was gone.</p>
+
+<p>In that time it was that there was so much
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>235]</span>
+toothache among the animals that the Mountain
+Lion, Commander of Beasts, called a council to
+see what should be done. When every kind that
+walks on the ground had met, he asked each of
+them if they had found no cure; but none of them
+knew any. The Coyote was there, howling with
+pain; but all the other sick were at home.</p>
+
+<p>At last it was to the Field-Mouse, who is the
+smallest of all animals, and who did not wish to
+seem wise until all the greater ones had spoken.
+When the Mountain Lion said, “And thou, T’hoo-chée-deh—hast
+thou a cure?” he rose in his place
+and came forward modestly, saying: “If the others
+will allow me, and with the help of the Trues,
+I will try what I found last.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he drew from his left-hand bag the roots
+one by one; and last of all, the root of the <i>chee-ma-hár</i>,
+explaining what it had done for Kee-oo-ée-deh.
+He pounded it to powder with a stone,
+and mixed it with fat; and spreading it on flat
+leaves, put it to the Coyote’s jaw. And in a little
+the pain was gone.<a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a></p>
+
+<p>At that the Mountain Lion, the Bear, the Buffalo,
+and all the other Captains of Four-feet, declared
+T’hoo-chée-deh the Father-of-All-Medicine.
+They made a strong law that from that time the
+body of the Field-Mouse should be held sacred, so
+that no animal dares to kill him or even to touch him
+dead. And so it remains to this day. But only the
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>236]</span>
+birds and the snakes, who were not at the Council of
+the Four feet, they do not respect T’hoo-chée-deh.</p>
+
+<p>So the Field-Mouse was the first medicine-man.
+He chose one of each kind of four-feet to be his
+assistants, and taught them the use of all herbs,
+and how to cure pain, so that each might practise
+among his own people—a Bear-doctor for the
+Bears, and a Wolf-doctor for the Wolves, and so to
+all the tribes of the animals.</p>
+
+<p>Of those he taught, there was one who was not
+a True Believer—the Badger. But he listened
+also, and made as if he believed all. With time,
+the teaching was done; and T’hoo-chée-deh sent
+all his assistant doctors home to their own peoples
+to heal. But whenever one of them was asked
+with the sacred corn-meal<a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a> to come and cure a sick
+one, he always came first to get the Father, the
+Field-Mouse, to accompany and help him.</p>
+
+<p>But all this time Kahr-naí-deh, the Badger, was
+not believing; and at last he said to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>“Now I will <em>see</em> if Old T’hoo-chée-deh is really a
+medicine-man. If he finds me, I will believe him.”</p>
+
+<p>So from that day for four days the Badger
+touched no food, until he was almost dead. And
+on the fifth day he said:</p>
+
+<p>“<i>In-hlee-oo wáy-ee</i>, wife of me, go now and call
+T’hoo-chée-deh, to see if he will cure me.”</p>
+
+<p>So the Badger-wife went with meal to the house
+of the Field-Mouse, making to be very sad; and
+brought him back with her. When they came, the
+Badger was as if very sick and in great pain.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>237]</span>
+T’hoo-chée-deh asked nothing; but took off the
+little pouch of roots and laid it beside him. And
+then rubbing a little wood-ashes on his hands, he
+put them on the stomach and breast of the Badger,
+rubbing and feeling. When he had felt the Badger’s
+stomach, he began to sing:</p>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0"><i>Káhr-nah-hlóo-hlee wee-end-t’hú</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Beh-hú hoo-báhn,</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Ah-náh káh-chah-him-aí</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>T’hóo-chée-hlóo-hlee t’oh-ah-yin-áhb</i></div>
+    <div class="i0"><i>Wee-end-t’hú beh-hú hoo-báhn.</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poemcenter">
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="i0">(Badger-Old-Man four days</div>
+    <div class="i0">Has the hunger-killing,</div>
+    <div class="i0">To know, to know surely</div>
+    <div class="i0">If Field-Mouse-Old-Man</div>
+    <div class="i0">Has the Medicine Power.</div>
+    <div class="i0">Four days, four days,</div>
+    <div class="i0">He has the hunger-killing.)</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>When he had finished rubbing and singing, he said
+to the Badger:</p>
+
+<p>“There is no need of a remedy. In my teaching
+I found you attentive—now be true. You
+have wasted, in trying my power. Now get up
+and eat, to make up for the lost. And do not
+think that way again.”</p>
+
+<p>With that, he took his pouch of roots and went
+home. As soon as he was out of the house, the
+Badger said to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>“My wife, now I believe that Mouse-Old-Man <em>has</em>
+the Power; and never again will I think <em>that</em> way.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the Badger-wife brought food, and he
+ate—for he was dying of hunger. When he had
+eaten, the animals came in to see him, for they had
+heard that he was very sick. He told them all
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>238]</span>
+that had been, and how T’hoo-chée-deh had known
+his trick. At that, all the animals were afraid of
+the Field-Mouse, and respected him more than ever—for
+it was plain that he indeed had the Power.</p>
+
+<p>Time passing so, it came that one day the Men
+of the Old made <i>nah-kú-ah-shu</i>, the great round-hunt.
+When they had made a great circle on the
+<i>llano</i>, and killed many rabbits, some of them found
+T’hoo-chée-deh, and made him prisoner. They
+brought him before the <i>principales</i>, who questioned
+him, saying:</p>
+
+<p>“How do you gain your life?”</p>
+
+<p>“I gain it,” he answered, “by going about
+among the animals who are sick, and curing
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the elders said: “If that is so, teach us
+your Power, and we will set you free; but if not,
+you shall die.”</p>
+
+<p>T’hoo-chée-deh agreed, and they brought him
+to town with honor. For twelve days and twelve
+nights he and the men stayed shut up in the <i>estufa</i>,
+for two days fasting, and one day making the medicine-dance,
+and then fasting and then dancing
+again, as our medicine-men do to this day.</p>
+
+<p>On the last night, when he had taught the men
+all the herbs and how to use them, and they had
+become wise with practice, they sent T’hoo-chée-deh
+out with a strong guard, that nothing should
+harm him. They set him down at the door of his
+own house under the chapparo. A law was made,
+giving him full liberty of all that is grown in the
+fields. To this day, all True Believers honor him,
+so that he is not called small any more. When
+they sing of him in the sacred places, they make
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>239]</span>
+his house great, calling it <i>koor-óo-hlee naht-hóo</i>, the
+Mountain of the Chapparo. And him they call not
+T’hoo-chée-deh, the Field-Mouse, but <i>Pee-íd-deh
+p’ah-hláh-queer</i>, the Deer-by-the-River, that he may
+not seem of little honor.<a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> For he was the Father
+of Medicine, and taught us how to cure the sick.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="break">“<i>Tahb-kóon-ahm?</i>” cried the boys. “Is <em>that</em>
+why the Coyote always cries? And is that why we
+must never hurt the Field-Mouse, but show him respect,
+as to elders?”</p>
+
+<p>“That is the very why,” said Manuelito’s grandfather,
+gravely; and all the old men nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“And why—” began ’Tonio. But his father
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Tah!</i> It is enough. <i>Tóo-kwai!</i>”</p>
+
+<p>So we stepped out into the night to our homes.
+And from the <i>Kú-mai</i>, black against the starry sky,
+the howl of Too-wháy-deh, wandering with his
+toothache, swelled across the sleeping village of
+the Tée-wahn.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="label">[109]</a> Pronounced Mahn-way-lée-to.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="label">[110]</a> A fixed belief among the Pueblos, who will tell none of their myths between
+the Spring Medicine-Making, in March, and the Fall Medicine-Making,
+in October, lest the rattlesnake punish them for some slip from the truth.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="label">[111]</a> This cure is still practised among the Tée-wahn. The sovereign remedy
+for toothache, however, is to go to the <i>estufa</i> after dark, carrying food in the
+left hand, march round inside the big circular room three times, leave the
+food under the secret recess in the wall where the scalps taken in old wars are
+kept, and then come out. The toothache is always left behind!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="label">[112]</a> The necessary accompaniment, among the Pueblos, of a call for the
+doctor. In some cases, the sacred smoking-herb was used. Either article
+was wrapped in corn-husk. See, also, “Some Strange Corners of Our
+Country,” chapters xviii and xx.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="label">[113]</a> This is not an exception. Nearly all the animals known to the Tée-wahn
+have not only their common name, but a ceremonial and sacred one, which is
+used exclusively in the songs and rites.</p>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenternocap illowp100" id="mwmm35" style="max-width: 40.3125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/mwmm35.jpg" alt="Decorative tailpiece: Is that so? Yes; that is so. The End.">
+</figure>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p class="center"><b>Transcriber’s Note</b></p>
+
+
+<p>All inconsistencies in hyphenation and accent use are preserved as printed.</p>
+
+<p>Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.</p>
+
+<p>The following typographic errors have been fixed:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_79">79</a>—stanger amended to stranger—Then a young woman who was a stranger ...</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_126">126</a>—seen amended to see—After this, whenever you see an Eagle ...</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The frontispiece has been moved to follow the title page. Other illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77804 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
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@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
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+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77804
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77804)