Creation Myths of Primitive America. Jeremiah Curtin
morning Hessiha saw another woman coming from the east. She stopped at Norwan Buli, and said—
“My younger sister, we came upon this earth at the same time, before the Wintu people. I am going to the west a little distance. I came out in the east, but I did not like the place there. I am going to Bohem Buli. I will stay there and live on the north side of the mountain. I will be a mountain woman. My name is Kukupiwit Pokte.”
She went to Bohem Buli.
Norwan danced always during daylight, never stopped in the daytime, never rested till evening.
Norbis Kiemila, the white oak which rolled to the southeast, looked toward the northwest and saw Norwan. “I see my wife on this earth,” said he.
One evening Hessiha and Norwan were in the sweat-house, and Hessiha said—
“My sister, I have heard news to-day from Norbis Kiemila. He says that you are to be his wife.”
She said nothing, and Hessiha talked on: “My sister, I heard a man say that he would come to see you. He lives at Sonomyai—he is Sedit, Sedit of Sonomyai.”
“My brother,” said Norwan, “what are you telling me?”
“I am telling you, my sister, what I have heard. Sedit is coming.”
“Why does he come? I don’t like him. He has a bad breath.”
Next morning Norwan rose and began to dance.
“My sister,” said Hessiha, that evening, “I hear that a man is coming from Chanahl Puyuk, a good man. His name is Kaukau Herit. He is coming to see you.”
“Why does he come here?” asked Norwan. “His neck is too long, his legs are too long.”
“Well, my sister, I have heard that a man who lives far away west is coming to see you, Kobalus Herit. He is a good man. He lives at Nomken Kobalus Waimemton.”
“That man has a crooked nose,” said Norwan, “and a crooked mouth. I don’t like him, he is all twisted.”
Next evening Hessiha said—
“There is a man who lives at the same place as Kobalus Herit. He wants to see you. His name is Tsanteris Herit.”
“That man has a hollow breast,” said Norwan. “I don’t like him.”
“A man from the far north is coming, Keli Herit.”
“I don’t like him,” said Norwan; “he has a bad odor. He smells like the earth.”
“A man from way down south, Bisus Herit, is coming to see you.”
“Oh, I don’t like him; his legs are too short; he eats bony fish.”
“My sister, a man is coming who lives a short distance south of us, Tede Wiu Herit.”
“I don’t like him; he has too much breast; it sticks out too much.”
“My sister, Katsi Herit is coming.”
“I know him,” said Norwan. “He is too quick-tempered: he gets angry too easily.”
“Chati Wai Halina Herit is coming to see you.”
“I don’t like him; he smells of pitch always.
“I must go now for wood; we have no wood this evening,” said Norwan, and she went out to bring some. She brought an armful, and while going to the same place for a second bundle she heard some one coming. A man took her by the arm. She turned, and saw Sedit of Sonomyai dressed beautifully. She pushed him away and ran home. Sedit did not follow her.
Next morning early she went out, and looking at one side of the door saw two stones lying there, and a hooked stick four or five feet long, called lakus, used to pull a limb of a tree toward you. She broke the stones to pieces, broke the stick, threw the pieces in the fire, and burned them. She knew that some man had put them there and intended to come. That night she was lying on the south side of the sweat-house and her brother on the north. It was dark, and they heard some one coming toward the house. The stranger came in, sat down behind Hessiha, sat with his head between his hands; his hair was sticking out, and looked as though it had never been combed. Norwan looked at this person, never took her eyes from him, but said not a word, and he said nothing. After a while he stood up and walked out. While going he threw something toward Norwan. It fell near her, and she picked it up. It was a small net bag half full of mice. She threw it after the stranger. He was Chati Wai Halina.
When morning came, Norwan took a bundle of brush, went to where the visitor had sat, swept the place clean, and threw fresh earth on it.
The next night they heard some one walking outside. Soon a man came in. He had a quiver in his hand made of deerskin. He looked around and went over behind the place where Norwan was lying and sat down. She lay there looking at him. After sitting awhile he lay down, stayed all night, and went away just at daybreak. This was Norbis Kiemila.
In the early morning before dancing she built a fire outside and sat down at it. That same morning Hessiha saw a man coming toward them, coming from the southeast. When he came to where Norwan was at the fire, he sat down. His name was Serin Dolite. He wore a bunch of fresh leaves on each side of his head. He had a second name, Pai Homhoma.
“My sister,” said this man, “I have come because my uncle sent me to tell you that the people at Hlihli Pui Hlutton finished talking yesterday, and they are going to have a great feast and a pleasant time. ‘Tell my niece,’ said he, ‘to come and dance with us.’ My uncle is Kopus Kiemila. He is named also Pui Uhlukyo. He is a Hlahi. He sent word to Norbis two days ago, and he sent word to Kaukau Herit. He has sent word everywhere. There will be a great many people in Hlihli Pui Hlutton. He has sent word to Sedit, who lives at Sonomyai, and to Katsi Herit, who lives opposite Pas Puisono, and to Kobalus Herit and Tsanteris Herit and Keli Herit and to Tede Wiu Herit, who lives at Koï Nomsono, and many others. He has sent to your brother Waida Werris. Waida Werris may come; he may not. Kopus Kiemila wants you to come surely.”
“Very well,” said Norwan, “I will go to-morrow.”
Serin Dolite was satisfied and went away.
“Now, my little brother,” said Norwan to Hessiha that night, “I am going away to-morrow. You will stay here, I hope. I shall be glad if you stay at home and take care of this house.”
When she rose in the morning, she stretched her right hand toward the southeast and got buri luli, which are very beautiful red flowers. She put her hand there a second time, and to her hand came hawe luli, pure white blossoms, for clothing. A third time she put her hand out, and hluyuk luli, which are the star flowers, came on it. These she put around her head as a garland, and made shoes of the same flowers. Then she took her staff yósoü.
“My brother,” said she, when dressed, “I am ready to go.”
“My brother’s daughter,” called Kar Kiemila from Olelpanti when she was starting, “go and dance. I will sit here and look at you.” Sweat-house doors look toward the south usually, but the great one above, made by Olelbis, on which Kar Kiemila was sitting, had its door in the east, because Olelbis took most of his beautiful things from the southeast, and he could look down in that direction from the door of his house in Olelpanti. The door in Hlihli Pui Hlutton was toward the west, because from that door they could see the great house in Olelpanti. The house built by Olelbis was the best in all the world, above or below. Kopus Kiemila’s house was second to it, and the best in the lower land.
Norwan went at the time appointed, and Hessiha stayed behind at Norwan Buli. When Serin Dolite brought the invitation, Norwan made him promise to meet her on the road.
“You must come,” said she, “to give me news before I reach the sweat-house.”
Just at the edge of a place called Pui Toror, Serin Dolite ran out and met Norwan.
“Oh, my sister,” said