Creation Myths of Primitive America. Jeremiah Curtin
and your brother Waida Werris; they have not come yet. Besides others, Boki Kiemila from Hlop Henmenas has come. You must hurry as much as you can, and come quickly.”
When he had given the message, he rushed back and left Norwan to travel at her own pace. She went along the top of Pui Toror, and came to a spot where she heard much laughing and talking. Soon she saw a large crowd of children playing. The ground was smooth—no rocks, no grass, just level land. When she came up, the children said to her—
“Our elder sister, we want to see the dance. We want to go to the sweat-house, but we have nothing to wear; we have no clothes and we can get none.”
The girls were all of the Tsudi people, the boys, Patkilises. Norwan looked around and saw at some distance a great many sunflower leaves.
“We took leaves like those,” said one of the boys, “and tried to put them on as ears, but we could not make them stay.”
Norwan stretched her hand southward, and gray fog which rises from water came on it. She put this fog on a Patkilis boy to wear. She stretched her hand to the east, and red and yellow feathers came to it. Of these she made ears for that Patkilis boy. She put her hand south and found willow catkins, white ones, and made a tail and put it on the Patkilis boy. She gave him shoes made of the catkins. When that one boy was dressed, she said, “Let all the others be like this one;” and that moment all Patkilis boys were like him.
Now she took acorn mould, green and brown, put it on one of the Tsudi girls. She took yósoü leaves from her staff (the leaves are like mice ears), and put them on the girl for ears. She took more acorn mould, rubbed and rolled it out like a little stick, and made a tail. When one Tsudi girl was dressed nicely, she said, “Let all the others be like this one;” and that moment they were like her.
“Now, sister,” said they, “we are ready.”
Norwan started, and all the Tsudi girls and Patkilis boys went with her. When they came to the door of the sweat-house, they looked around and saw that all the trees were full of fresh, beautiful acorns; the top of the house was covered with them. There were piles and piles of acorns inside and around the sweat-house, and a little way off a great many trees were loaded with fruit.
From Olelpanti they could see down into Hlihli Puihlutton. All persons who had come were inside. Norwan looked in and saw many people, all looking toward the door.
“See Norwan coming,” said they. “She is beautiful—oh, she is beautiful!”
Kopus Kiemila was on the south side, near the door. He had five sacks of acorns near him. He was singing over them, singing about health and soundness. When he saw Norwan, he said—
“Come in; come in, my brother’s daughter. You are one of the last. All have come but two.”
She went beyond Kopus to a seat. A young woman who was sitting near rose and said—
“Come, my sister; come and sit with me.”
This was Hlihli Loimis. Her brother Hlihli Herit stood always on top of Kopus’s house and called, “Hai! Hai!” which means “Come! Come!” and beckoned with his hand for people to enter.
Norwan sat down at the south side of the door, and all the Tsudi and Patkilis children took their places behind her.
“You are almost the last to come,” said Hlihli Loimis. “Look at the north side of the house. See how many people are there. See the light; that is Kaukau Herit. He is white and shining; light beams from him.”
“Now,” said Kopus, “all you people from the north, my sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law, make ready to dance.”
The northern people rose at his call and danced. Kaukau Herit danced. When he rose and moved, it was as when a light is brought into a dark place. He danced five times and sat down.
“Now, my sons-in-law,” said Kopus, “sit back and look on. My sons-in-law from the west, you will dance now; dance you, Katsi Herit and Sedit of Sonomyai, and dance you, my daughters-in-law.”
The western people danced; Sedit, Boki, all danced. While they were dancing, they dropped beautiful shells. These shells fell from them as snow falls from the sky, and the whole floor was covered with shells, just as mountains in winter are covered with snow.
“Now sit back and look on,” said Kopus. The western people sat down.
“My sons-in-law and my daughters-in-law,” called Kopus to the southern people, “make ready to dance.”
The two Tede Wiu brothers from Koï Nomsono were to lead the southern people in the dance. Kopus called five times; the southern people did not move. Then the elder Tede Wiu made a step and stopped; when he raised his foot to take a second step, all began to dance. Both brothers carried a load of mempak on their arms, and each had a flint knife. As they danced they attached long strings of mempak to one side of the house higher than a man’s head; they extended the strings to the other side and tied them there. They stretched mempak in this way from side to side as they danced, and from end to end, lengthwise and crosswise; then they danced under it. The beautiful strings were shining in every color just above their heads. The music, the mempak, and the dancing were so beautiful that all were delighted; all people were glad; they could hardly sit still and look on.
The brothers danced up to where Kopus was sitting, took strings of shell and mempak from their necks and heads, and put them down before him; next they put down their two beautiful knives. When they had done this they danced away to the other end of the sweat-house, and then danced up again to where Kopus was.
Norwan rose and began to dance without knowing it. She could not help dancing. Every one looked at her. She danced with the two brothers, danced away to the other side of the house with them. Only after a time did she see that she was dancing.
The two brothers sat down; she sat with them. Then the three stood up and went out.
They had just gone when Norbis came in. He was splendidly dressed, wore mempak, had a garland of fresh young leaves on his head, and on the top of it mempak. He sat down and asked some one near by—
“Where is my wife?”
“Norwan has gone with the two Tede Wiu brothers.”
“I don’t believe that!” said Norbis.
He sprang up, went around, and asked others. All said, “She is with the Tede Wiu brothers.”
At last Norbis went out, taking his people. They had gone into the house, but had not danced. They followed at his call. He went swiftly to the northwest to overtake the two brothers.
The dance was at an end. All started home. Daylight was near.
The two brothers did not go to Norwan Buli Hlut, which was farther north than Koï Nomsono. They kept the woman at their own house till morning. When they reached home each of the brothers said—
“My people, be ready for a great hunt at daybreak.”
When daylight came the elder brother said—
“Come, my people, we will eat together. You must all eat with me this morning.”
While eating they heard shouts on the west bank of Bohema Mem, and soon they saw two men running toward them—men finely dressed, with plumes on their heads. The men crossed the river, and came to the house of the Tede Wius. They were the Wul Wuhl brothers.
“We are here to tell you,” said they, “that Norbis is very angry. He has roused all his people, and they are coming. He has sent us to tell you that he is beyond the Bohema Mem waiting for you. Norbis asks you to send out that woman to him.”
The brothers said nothing.
“If you give her, he will go home; if not, he will fight with you.”
“We cannot give her,” said the elder Tede Wiu. “We did not go to the dance for her; we did not take her away