Long Arrow thanked him and vowed to follow his advice. For four days the young man stayed in the spirit chiefs lodge, where he ate well and often went out riding on the Elk Dogs. But try as he would, he could never get a look at the old man’s feet. The spirit chief always kept them carefully covered. Then on the morning of the fourth day, the old one was walking out of the tipi when his medicine robe caught in the entrance flap. As the robe opened, Long Arrow caught a glimpse of a leg and one foot. He was awed to see that it was not a human limb at all, but the glossy leg and firm hoof of an Elk Dog! He could not stifle a cry of surprise, and the old man looked over his shoulder and saw that his leg and hoof were exposed. The chief seemed a little embarrassed, but shrugged and said: “I tried to hide this, but you must have been fated to see it. Look, both of my feet are those of an Elk Dog. You may as well ask me for a gift. Don’t be timid; tell me what you want.”
Long Arrow spoke boldly: “I want three things: your belt of rainbow colors, your black medicine robe, and your herd of Elk Dogs.”
“Well, so you’re really not timid at all!” said the old man. “You ask for a lot, and I’ll give it to you, except that you cannot have all my Elk Dogs; I’ll give you half of them. Now I must tell you that my black hair medicine robe and my many-colored belt have Elk Dog magic in them. Always wear the robe when you try to catch Elk Dogs; then they can’t get away from you. On quiet nights, if you listen closely to the belt, you will hear the Elk Dog dance song and Elk Dog prayers. You must learn them. And I will give you one more magic gift: this long rope woven from the hair of a white buffalo bull. With it you will never fail to catch whichever Elk Dog you want.”
The spirit chief presented him with the gifts and said: “Now you must leave. At first the Elk Dogs will not follow you. Keep the medicine robe and the magic belt on at all times, and walk for four days toward the north. Never look back—always look to the north. On the fourth day the Elk Dogs will come up beside you on the left. Still don’t look back. But after they have overtaken you, catch one with the rope of white buffalo hair and ride him home. Don’t lose the black robe, or you will lose the Elk Dogs and never catch them again.”
Long Arrow listened carefully so that he would remember. Then the old spirit chief had his wife make up a big pack of food, almost too heavy for Long Arrow to carry, and the young man took leave of his generous spirit host. The mysterious boy once again turned himself into a kingfisher and led Long Arrow to the surface of the lake, where his faithful dog greeted him joyfully. Long Arrow fed the dog, put his pack of food on the travois, and started walking north.
On the fourth day the Elk Dogs came up on his left side, as the spirit chief had foretold. Long Arrow snared the black one with the arched neck to ride, and he caught another to carry the pack of food. They galloped swiftly on, the dog barking at the big Elk Dogs’ heels.
When Long Arrow arrived at last in his village, the people were afraid and hid. They did not recognize him astride his beautiful Elk Dog but took him for a monster, half man and half animal. Long Arrow kept calling, “Grandfather Good Running, it’s your grandson. I’ve come back bringing Elk Dogs!”
Recognizing the voice, Good Running came out of hiding and wept for joy, because he had given Long Arrow up for lost. Then all the others emerged from their hiding places to admire the wonderful new animals.
Long Arrow said, “My grandfather and grandmother who adopted me, I can never repay you for your kindness. Accept these wonderful Elk Dogs as my gift. Now we no longer need to be humble footsloggers, because these animals will carry us swiftly everywhere we want to go. Now buffalo hunting will be easy. Now our tipis will be larger, our possessions will be greater, because an Elk Dog travois can carry a load ten times bigger than that of a dog. Take them, my grandparents. I shall keep for myself only this black male and this black female, which will grow into a fine herd.”
“You have indeed done something great, Grandson,” said Good Running, and he spoke true. The people became the bold riders of the Plains and soon could hardly imagine how they had existed without these wonderful animals.
After some time Good Running, rich and honored by all, said to Long Arrow: “Grandson, lead us to the Great Mystery Lake so we can camp by its shores. Let’s visit the spirit chief and the wondrous boy; maybe they will give us more of their power and magic gifts.”
Long Arrow led the people southward and again found the Great Mystery Lake. But the waters would no longer part for him, nor would any of the kingfishers they saw turn into a boy. Nor, gazing down into the crystal-clear water, could they discover people, Elk Dogs, or a tipi. There was nothing in the lake but a few fish.
—Retold from George Bird Grinnell and other sources around 1910.
SALT WOMAN IS REFUSED FOOD
[COCHITI]
Old Salt Woman had a grandson, and they were very poor. They came to Cochiti and went from house to house, but people turned them away. They were all busy cooking for a feast. At that time they used no salt.
When Salt Woman and her grandson had been to all the houses, they came to a place outside the pueblo where lots of children were playing. All the children came to see the magic crystal Salt Woman had in her hand. She led them to a piñon tree and told them each to take hold of a branch of the tree and swing themselves. Using her magic crystal, she turned them into the chaparral jays who live in piñon trees. “When we were in the pueblo, nobody would invite us to stay,” Salt Woman said. “From now on you will be chaparral jays.”
Salt Woman and her grandson went south and came to Santa Domingo, where they were well treated and fed. After they had eaten and were leaving, Salt Woman said, “I am very thankful for being given food to eat,” and she left them some of her flesh. The people of the house ate it with their bread and meat. It tasted good—salty.
“At Cochiti,” Salt Woman told them, “they treated me badly, and when I left, I took all the children outside the pueblo and changed them into chaparral jays roosting in a piñon tree. But to you I am grateful. Therefore remember that if I am in your food, it will always taste better. I will go southeast and stay there, and if any of you want more of my flesh you will find it at that place. And when you come to gather, let there be no laughing, no singing, nothing of that kind. Be quiet and clean.” So she left Santo Domingo and went to Salt Lake, where we get salt today.
—From a legend recorded by Ruth Benedict in 1924.
The procuring of salt was and still is associated with a set of solemn ceremonies in the Southwest. The journey to the source is considered a great odyssey or pilgrimage, and those making this trip must undergo elaborate rituals and carefully observe strict taboos. When they return, the entire experience is described in detail, analyzed, and preserved by the rest of the tribe. The mythic figure associated with salt is almost always an old woman, as we see here, and she often provides it through her mucus, which is shared among the people.
[BLACKFOOT]
For longer than anyone knows, Indians throughout the Americas have smoked tobacco and other plants for pleasure and for praying. The smoke was the Great Spirit’s breath taking the prayers up to the Ones Above. With a pipe in his hands, a man could speak nothing but the truth. Sir Walter Raleigh learned the use of tobacco from the Indians. When he first had a smoke in a London inn, the bartender, thinking that he was on fire, emptied a tankard of ale over him. To the white man, smoking became an addiction; but to the native American, pipe and tobacco were sacred and smoking was a holy ritual. A man who had killed a member of his own tribe could not smoke ritually with the others. He had to smoke a mean little pipe all by himself—hard punishment.
There once were four brothers, all spiritual men who had power. In a vision the oldest of them heard a voice saying: “Out there is a sacred weed; pick it and burn it.” The man looked around, saw the strange weed, and put it in the fire. It gave off a very pleasing aroma.
Then the second brother had a dream in which a voice said: “Take this herb. Chop it fine. Put it i
nto a hide bag.” The man did what he was told, and the dry herb in his hide bag was wonderfully fragrant. The third brother had a vision in which he saw a man hollowing out a bone and putting the strange weed into it. A voice said, “Make four pipes like this,” and the third brother carved four pipes out of an animal’s leg bones.
Then the youngest of the four brothers had a vision. A voice told him: “You four men light your pipes and smoke. Inhale the smoke; exhale it. Let the smoke ascend to the clouds.” The voice also taught him the songs and prayers that went with smoking.
So the four medicine men, born of the same mother, smoked together. This was the first time that men had ever smoked, and they sang and prayed together as they did so.
The brothers, who called the sacred weed nawak’osis, were meant to teach its use to the people. But nawak’osis made them powerful and wise and clear-minded, and they did not want to share it with others. They planted the sacred weed in a secret place that only they knew. They guarded the songs and prayers and rituals that went with smoking. They formed a Tobacco Society, just the four of them.
So there was anger, there was war, there was restlessness of spirit, there was impiety. Nawak’osis was meant to calm anger, to make men worship, to make peace, to ease the mind. But without the sacred herb, unity and peace were lacking.
A young man called Bull-by-Himself said to his wife: “These four powerful ones have been given something good to share with the people, but they are keeping it for themselves. So things are bad. I must find a way to plant and reap the sacred weed they call nawak’osis.”
Bull-by-Himself and his wife went to a sacred lake and set up their tipi close by its shore. The man left every day to hunt and look for the plant nawak’osis. The woman stayed in the lodge to quill, tan, and prepare food. One day while she was alone, she heard somebody singing beautifully. She searched everywhere to find the source of the music and discovered that it was coming from a beaver house close by the shore. “It must be the beavers singing,” she thought. “Their songs are lovely. I hope they don’t stop.”
Though her husband came home with plenty of meat, he had not found nawak’osis. The woman called his attention to the music, but he said, “I hear nothing. It’s your imagination.”
“No,” she said, “I can hear it clearly. Put your ear to the beaver house.” He did, but still heard nothing.
Then the wife took her knife and made a hole in the beaver lodge. Through it they could not only hear the beavers sing, but also watch them performing a strange, beautiful dance.
“My young brothers,” the wife called to them, “be of a sharing spirit. Teach me your wonderful song and your medicine!”
The Beavers answered: “Close the hole you have made, because it lets the cold in. Then we’ll come out and visit you.” So she sealed their wall up, and that night four beavers came to Bull-by-Himself’s lodge. As soon as they were inside they turned themselves into humans—four nice-looking young men. One asked: “What have you come here for?”
“I have come,” said Bull-by-Himself, “to find the sacred weed called nawak’osis.”
“Then this is the right place,” said the man-beavers. “We are water people, and nawak’osis is water medicine. We will give you this sacred herb, but first you must learn the songs, the prayers, the dances, the ceremonies that go with it.”
“There are four powerful men in our tribe,” said Bull-by-Himself, “who have the medicine and the knowledge, but keep them from us.”
“Ah,” said the man-beavers, “that is wrong. This sacred weed is meant to be shared. Here is what you must do. By day, go out and get the skin of every four-legged and two-legged creature that lives in and around the water—except, of course, beaver. You must get the skins of the muskrat and otter, of the duck and kingfisher, of all creatures like that, because they represent water. Sun and water mean life. Sun begets life, and water makes it grow.”
So every day Bull-by-Himself went out for the skins, while his wife scraped, tanned, and smoked them. And every night the four man-beavers came to teach them the prayers, songs, and dances that go with nawak’osis. After a while the beavers said: “Now all is ready. Now you have all the skins, and now you have the knowledge. Make the skins, which represent water power, into a bag, into a medicine bundle. Tomorrow night we’ll come again for the last time to tell you what to do.”
The following night the beavers came as they had promised. They brought with them the sacred weed nawak’osis. The top of the stalks was covered with little round seeds, and the man-beavers put the seeds into the medicine bundle the woman had prepared.
“It’s planting time now,” said the Beavers. “Don’t touch nawak’osis before you’re ready to plant. Choose a place where there is not too much shade and not too much sunlight. Mix plenty of brown earth with plenty of black earth, and keep the soil loose. Say the prayers we have taught you. Then you, Bull-by-Himself, must take a deer horn and with its point make holes in the earth—one hole for each seed. And you, his wife, must use a buffalo-horn spoon to drop one seed into each hole. Keep singing the songs we taught you all the while. Then both of you dance lightly over this earth, tamping down the seeds. After that you just wait for nawak’osis to grow. Now we have taught you everything. Now we go.” The nice-looking young men left, turning back into beavers as they went.
Bull-by-Himself and his wife planted the sacred weed as they had been told. The four medicine-men brothers said to one another: “What can this man, Bull-by-Himself, and his wife be planting? Their songs sound familiar.” They sent somebody to find out, and this person came back saying: “They are planting nawak’osis, doing it in a sacred manner.”
The four powerful men began to laugh. “No, it can’t be. It’s some useless weed they’re planting. No one but us can plant nawak’osis. No one but us can use it. No one but us has its power.”
But when it was time to harvest nawak’osis, a great hailstorm destroyed the secret tobacco patch of the four medicine brothers. Nothing was left, and they had not saved a single seed. They said to each other: “Perhaps this man and his wife did plant nawak’osis after all. Perhaps the hail hasn’t destroyed their tobacco patch.”
Again the four brothers sent someone to find out, and that person came back saying: “This man and his wife had no hail on their field. Here is what they have been growing.” He showed the brothers some leaves. “It is indeed nawak’osis,” they said, shaking their heads in wonder.
Thus with the help of the beaver people, Bull-by-Himself and his wife brought the sacred tobacco to the tribes, who have been smoking it in a sacred manner ever since.
—Retold from several nineteenth-century sources.
HOW GRANDFATHER PEYOTE
CAME TO THE INDIAN PEOPLE
[BRULE SIOUX]
Vision quests in which an individual seeks spiritual power are common to many Indian tribes. The peyote plant is often used by the Sioux and Cheyenne in the rituals associated with such quests—the sweat lodge, a solitary vigil, a flesh offering. The plant is often considered to be a human spirit and is a sacrament in the Native American Church, founded by a Comanche chief in the last century. Henry Crow Dog, the father of the man who told this story, was among those who introduced the peyote religion to the Sioux in the 1920s.
This is how Grandfather Peyote came to the Indian people. Long ago, before the white man, there was a tribe living far south of the Sioux in a land of deserts and mesas. These people were suffering from a sickness, and many died of it. One old woman had a dream that she would find a herb, a root, which would save her people.
The woman was old and frail but, taking her little granddaughter, she went on a vision quest to learn how to find this sacred herb. They walked away from the camp until they were lost. Arriving at the top of a lonely hill, the grandmother made a brush shelter for herself and the young one. Without water or food they were weak, and as night fell they huddled together, not knowing what to do.
Suddenly they felt the wingbea
ts of a huge bird, an eagle flying from the east toward the west. The old woman raised her arms and prayed to the eagle for wisdom and power. Toward morning they saw the figure of a man floating in the air about four steps above their heads. The old woman heard a voice: “You want water and food and do not know where to find it. I have a medicine for you. It will help you.”
This man’s arm was pointing to a spot on the ground about four steps from where the old woman was sitting. She looked and saw a peyote plant—a large Grandfather Peyote Plant with sixteen segments. She did not know what it was, but she took her bone knife and cut the green part off. And there was moisture, the peyote juice, the water of life. The old woman and her granddaughter drank it and were refreshed.
The sun went down again and the second night came. The old woman prayed to the spirit: “I am sacrificing myself for the people. Have pity on me. Help me!”
And the figure of the man appeared again, hovering above her as before, and she heard a voice saying: “You are lost now, but you will find your people again and you will save them. When the sun rises two more times, you will find them.”
The grandmother ate some more of the sacred medicine and gave some to the girl. And a power entered them through the herb, bringing them knowledge and understanding and a sacred vison. Experiencing this new power, the old woman and her granddaughter stayed awake all night. Yet in the morning when the sun rose and shone upon the hide bag with the peyote, the old one felt strong. She said, Granddaughter, pray with this new herb. It has no mouth, but it is telling me many things.”
During the third night the spirit came again and taught the old woman how to show her people the proper way to use the medicine. In the morning she got up, thinking: “This one plant won’t be enough to save my people. Could it have been the only herb in this world? How can I find more?”
AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS Page 9
