AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS

by Richard Erdoes

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Let’s join up and travel together,” said Little-Man. “What do they call you?”

  “My name is Smoking Mountain,” said one. “I’m the oldest. This one here is Broken War Club.”

  The three wandered on together and after a while came to a fine, large lodge with plenty of buffalo robes lying around. Outside there were racks with jerk meat, and someone had left a large cooking kettle. But the lodge was deserted; there was no trace of any human beings.

  “I like this place,” said Little-Man. “Let’s stay a while.”

  “Somebody must own it,” said Smoking Mountain.

  “Well,” said Little-Man, “if someone comes and claims it, I won’t mind; and if nobody shows up I won’t mind either.” So they stayed.

  Little-Man said to Smoking Mountain: “Let’s go hunting. Broken War Club can stay and cook some of that jerk meat for supper.” So the two of them took their bows and arrows and went.

  But when the hunters came back to camp, there was no supper. Broken War Club was lying under a buffalo robe moaning and groaning.

  “What’s the matter with you?” asked Little-Man. “You look as if you’ve been in a fight.”

  “I’m too embarrassed to tell,” answered Broken War Club.

  “Suit yourself,” said Little-Man, and they ate some cold jerk meat.

  The next day Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over said to Broken War Club: “Let’s go out and hunt. Smoking Mountain can stay here and cook.” But when the two came back, they found Smoking Mountain also lying under a buffalo robe moaning and groaning. “What happened to you, friend?” asked Little-Man. “You look as if you’ve been in a fight.”

  “I’m too ashamed to tell,” answered Smoking Mountain.

  “You two are some fine cooks!” remarked Little-Man. Again they ate their jerk meat cold.

  The next morning Little-Man told the brothers: “You go out and hunt; I’ll stay and cook.” And when the brothers came home with their meat, they found a fine supper waiting.

  “Has anybody been here?” Smoking Mountain asked.

  “Under that robe over there.” said Little-Man, pointing to a buffalo robe on the floor, “there’s a large flat stone, and under the stone there’s a hole. Someone lifted the stone, came out of the hole, and crept out from under the robe.”

  “And what happened then?” asked the brothers.

  “The same thing that happened to you. An ugly dwarf, only as big as my hand but monstrously strong, tried to beat me up with his whip. So that’s why you were moaning and groaning. And you were ashamed to tell because he was so small.”

  “Ah,” said the brothers, “he whipped you too.”

  “No,” said Little-Man, “I didn’t give him the chance. I killed him and threw him down that hole.”

  Smoking Mountain pushed aside the robe, lifted up the stone, and peeked down. “This is a very deep hole,” he said. “It must lead to that dwarf’s home. I wish I could go down and find out.”

  Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over said: “That’s easy.” He took hold of the big cooking kettle and fastened a long rawhide rope to its handle. “Climb into this kettle,” he told Smoking Mountain, “and we’ll let you down. Then we’ll draw you up and you can tell us about it.” They lowered Smoking Mountain down the hole and after a while pulled him up.

  Smoking Mountain reported: “I landed right on top of that dwarf; you really fixed him good. It was dark and damp down there, and I could hear a strange noise like an animal snorting. I didn’t feel comfortable in that place.”

  “Let me down,” said Broken War Club. “I’m not afraid.”

  So they let him down and after a while pulled him up. He said: “I went a little farther. There’s a door down there, a kind of hole in a cave wall, covered with a rock. I heard the noise too—it sounds like a deep growl rather than a snort. I didn’t want to go in there.”

  “Let me down,” said Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over.

  After they had lowered him, Little-Man found the entrance door and listened to the growling snort, or snorting growl. He rolled the rock out of the way and found himself in a cave-like room face to face with a two-headed monster. The monster growled: “Where is my son? Have you seen him? He is only so big …”

  “That must be the dwarf I killed,” said Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over. “I left his body outside.”

  At this the monster roared and attacked. Little-Man managed to cut off one of its heads with his magic knife, but the monster continued fighting just as savagely. They struggled until Little-Man succeeded in cutting off the other head.

  Looking past the monster’s corpse, Little-Man saw another door opposite the first one. It too was stopped up with a big rock. From behind came a truly terrifying growling, snorting, and snuffling, as from a horde of strange beasts.

  “I wonder who that can be,” he thought, rolling the rock out of the way. In the next room he found a scaly man-monster with three heads, all three of which were snorting and growling and snuffling at the same time.

  “Where is my son, the one with two heads?” the monster asked.

  “Grandfather—or is it grandfathers?—he is dead. I had to kill him, because otherwise, I think he would have killed me. He was mad because I killed his son—your grandson, probably—the evil little dwarf with the whip.”

  At this the three-headed monster hurled himself at Little-Man. The three heads foamed at the lips, snarled and bit. “One at a time, one at a time,” said Little-Man as he cut the three heads off one after the other.

  “They really made me sweat,” said Little-Man, looking around. He discovered yet another door, behind which he heard howling, shuffling, snarling, and growling. “This is getting boring,” he said as he rolled the rock aside and met a horny-skinned, four-headed man-monster. This one asked no questions but immediately jumped at Little-Man with four sets of teeth biting, snapping, and tearing. The monster’s skin was so tough, especially at the necks, that it resisted the magic knife. Even when Little-Man had finally cut off three of the four heads, the man-monster fought as fiercely as ever. The fourth head was the toughest; it bit a good-sized piece out of Little-Man’s shoulder before he managed to cut it off. Panting, exhausted, Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over kicked the giant body of the monster and said, “There, you wicked little thing!”

  Again he looked around and saw a door. “Not again!” he said. But he listened and behind it he heard the sweet song of young girls. “This is much better,” said Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over as he rolled the last rock aside. He stepped into the last chamber and found three very pretty young women.

  “Are the monsters out there relatives of yours?” asked Little-Man.

  “No, no, in no way!” answered the maidens. “These horrible monsters have been keeping us prisoner for their own pleasure. We’ve been having a hard life.”

  “I believe it,” he said.

  “Handsome young warrior,” said one of the girls, “surely you’ve come to free us.”

  “I don’t know about handsome,” said Little-Man, “but free you I will.”

  “And you are handsome,” said the bold girl. “I like a little, hairy, lusty fellow.”

  “Then you’ve met the right man,” he said. He looked around and saw wonderful things that the monsters had taken from their victims: buckskin robes decorated with multicolored porcupine quills, well-made weapons, war bonnets of eagle feathers, and much wore.

  “Enough here for three friends to divide,” said Little-Man, “and isn’t it a lucky coincidence that there are three of you and three of us? For I have two friends waiting in the lodge above.”

  “Better and better,” said the three good-looking girls.

  Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over gathered up the many fine things in a bundle and walked to the hole underneath the lodge. “Ho, friends,” he hollered, “here are some good things for us to divide!” He placed the bundle in the kettle, and the two brothers in the lodge pulled it up. They called down, �
�Are you coming up now?”

  “Not yet,” he answered. “First pull up three young pretty ones well worth meeting.” The brothers lowered the kettle and, one by one, drew up the women. Then Little-Man called out: “I’m coming up now.” He climbed into the kettle. When they had pulled him halfway up, Broken War Club said to Smoking Mountain: “Let’s drop him back down. Then we can keep these pretty girls and all the fine things for ourselves.”

  “No,” said Smoking Mountain, “Little-Man has been a good friend to us.” But Broken War Club had already cut the rawhide rope, and Little-Man fell all the way down with a big clatter. He was stunned, but recovered quickly, saying: “Some fine friends I chose!”

  Without the rope and the kettle, Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over had a hard time climbing up into the lodge. He tried four times before he finally did it. “Now I’ll find these no-good brothers,” he said.

  Traveling along what he believed to be the trail of Smoking Mountain and Broken War Club, Little-Man heard some people quarreling. He followed the sound and came upon the body of a big elk, over which a wasp, a worm, and a woodpecker were squabbling. “My friends,” Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over told them, “there’s enough here for all. Let me settle this for you and stop all the fuss.” He gave the bones to the woodpecker, the fat to the wasp, and the meat to the worm, and everyone was satisfied.

  “Thank you, uncle, for settling this matter and making peace between us,” they said. “In return, if you ever find yourself in trouble, you can assume any of our shapes: you can turn yourself into a worm, a wasp, or a woodpecker.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it,” said Little-Man.

  Always following the trail, he came at last to a lodge standing in a clearing of the forest. At once he turned himself into a woodpecker, flew up to a pole above the smoke hole, and looked down. “Ah,” he said to himself, “Here are the two no-good brothers talking to the three girls.” Then he turned himself into a wasp and flew down into the lodge, where he settled on the shoulder of the bold girl. Nobody noticed him. The bold girl said: “I’m still angry with you men. It was mean to drop that nice little fellow. He was brave, and I was fond of him. I hope he’s well, wherever he is.”

  Smoking Mountain added, “Yes, it wasn’t right. I tried to stop it, but this one here had already cut the rope.”

  Broken War Club just laughed. “Brother, don’t talk like a fool. It was so funny, dropping that hairy, useless man down there and listening to him squeal. Look at all the riches I got for us, and look at these pretty girls who, thanks to me, make our nights pleasant. Yes, I still have to laugh when I think of the hairy one clattering down, squealing.”

  “I don’t remember having squealed,” said Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over, quickly turning himself back into a man. “Let’s see who’ll be squealing now.”

  Broken War Club tried to run away, but Little-Man seized him by the hair and cut his throat with the magic knife. Then he kicked Smoking Mountain in the backside. “Coward! You could have defied your younger brother and gotten me out of that hole. If you ever cross my path again, I’ll kill you the way I killed this one.” Smoking Mountain slunk away.

  Then Little-Man turned to the women. “Good-looking girls, will you take me for a husband? I’m man enough for three. I’m small, but not everywhere.”

  “Handsome one,” said the bold girl, “since we three are sisters, it’s only fitting for us to have one husband.” So Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over married the girls, and they were all very happy together.

  After Little-Man had lived with them for a while, he said: “My dears, I’m not made to stay always in one place. Now and then I just have to roam and discover things. I’ve left enough meat, pemmican, tongues, and back fat to last you a good many days. I won’t be away for long, so don’t be afraid.”

  Thus Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over went traveling again. He came to a lodge, inside which a pretty young woman was crying. He went in and asked: “Good-looking one, what’s the matter?”

  “A slimy water monster is keeping me prisoner, and I hate his embraces. I’ve tried and tried to run away, but he always catches me and drags me back.”

  “Dry your tears,” said Little-Man, “I’ll kill this monster and marry you. I already have three wives, but I can easily take care of one more.”

  “I’d like that,” said the woman, “but no one can kill him.”

  “I can kill any monster with my magic knife. I am forever rescuing pretty maidens imprisoned by evil monsters; I’m quite used to it.”

  “You can’t kill this one, even with a magic knife, because he’s many monsters in one. There’s a secret way to kill him, and if you don’t happen to know it, he’ll kill you.”

  ‘And what is this secret way?”

  “I don’t know; I’ve never had a chance to ask. But tonight the monster comes back, and I’ll try to get it out of him. Hide yourself in the meantime.”

  “That’s easy,” said Little-Man, turning into a woodpecker and flying to the top pole aboye the smoke hole.

  At nightfall the water monster returned. Looking down from his perch, Little-Man thought: “This is indeed an ugly, slimy monster!”

  The creature threw some meat to the girl, saying: “I just drowned and ate some humans, so I’m full, but here’s some antelope meat for you.”

  “Just what I like,” said the girl. “You know, that horn coming out of your forehead is dirty; let me clean it for you. It’s really quite handsome.”

  “You’re pleasant today for a change,” said the monster,” instead of scowling and sour-faced. Perhaps you’re beginning to appreciate me.”

  “How could anyone not appreciate you?” said the girl. “Tell me, so that in case of trouble I can help you: what’s the only way to kill you?”

  The monster grinned horribly and said: “Well, here I am, the great water monster. If you kill me, a huge grizzly bear will come out of me, and out of him a smaller brown bear, and out of him a panther, and out of the panther a wolf, and out of the wolf a wolverine, and out of that a fox, and out of that a rabbit. Out of the rabbit will come a quail, and out of the quail an egg. Only by dashing this egg against the horn in my forehead can I be killed.”

  Little-Man heard it all. At once he flew down into the lodge, resumed his own shape, and attacked the great water monster with his magic knife. One after the other, he killed all the animals coming out of the monster, and at last dashed the egg against the monster’s horn.

  “You’re brave and powerful,” said the girl. “I’m yours.”

  So Little-Man-with-Hair-All-Over took her as his fourth wife and carried her home to his lodge, together with all the treasures which the monster had amassed through robbing and murder. And Little-Man had been right: he was man enough for four wives, with a little left over.

  —Told by Jean Desjarlais in New York City, 1971, and recorded by Richard Erdoes.

  Jean Desjarlais also calls himself “Oohosis”—the owl—because the owl is a messenger. He was one of many Native Americans who occupied Alcatraz Island in 1970–1971, and he now lives in the Arctic regions of northern Canada.

  HOW MOSQUITOES CAME TO BE

  [TLINGIT]

  Long ago there was a giant who loved to kill humans, eat their flesh, and drink their blood. He was especially fond of human hearts. “Unless we can get rid of this giant,” people said, “none of us will be left,” and they called a council to discuss ways and means.

  One man said, “I think I know how to kill the monster,” and he went to the place where the giant had last been seen. There he lay down and pretended to be dead.

  Soon the giant came along. Seeing the man lying there, he said: “These humans are making it easy for me. Now I don’t even have to catch and kill them; they die right on my trail, probably from fear of me!

  The giant touched the body. “Ah, good,” he said, “this one is still warm and fresh. What a tasty meal he’ll make; I can’t wait to roast his heart.”

  The giant flung the
man over his shoulder, and the man let his head hang down as if he were dead. Carrying the man home, the giant dropped him in the middle of the floor right near the fireplace. Then he saw that there was no firewood and went to get some.

  As soon as the monster had left, the man got up and grabbed the giant’s huge skinning knife. Just then the giant’s son came in, bending low to enter. He was still small as giants go, and the man held the big knife to his throat. “Quick, tell me, where’s your father’s heart? Tell me or I’ll slit your throat!”

  The giant’s son was scared. He said: “My father’s heart is in his left heel.”

  Just then the giant’s left foot appeared in the entrance, and the man swiftly plunged the knife into the heel. The monster screamed and fell down dead.

  Yet the giant still spoke. “Though I’m dead, though you killed me, I’m going to keep on eating you and all the other humans in the world forever!”

  “That’s what you think!” said the man. “I’m about to make sure that you never eat anyone again.” He cut the giant’s body into pieces and burned each one in the fire. Then he took the ashes and threw them into the air for the winds to scatter.

  Instantly each of the particles turned into a mosquito. The cloud of ashes became a cloud of mosquitoes, and from their midst the man heard the giant’s voice laughing, saying: “Yes, I’ll eat you people until the end of time.”

  And as the monster spoke, the man felt a sting, and a mosquito started sucking his blood, and then many mosquitoes stung him, and he began to scratch himself.

  —Retold from English source, 1883.

  HIAWATHA THE UNIFIER

  [IROQUOIS]

  Hiawatha (Haion-Hwa-Tha—He-Who-Makes-Rivers) is thought to have been a statesman, lawgiver, shaman, and unifier who lived around 1570. According to some sources, he was born a Mohawk and sought refuge among the Onondaga when his own tribe at first rejected his teachings. His efforts to unite the Iroquois tribes were opposed by a formidable chieftain, Wathatotarho, whom he eventually defeated and who killed Hiawatha’s daughter in revenge.