AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS

by Richard Erdoes

  “No,” said the ghost. “Those were my cousins. They’re soft. I’m tough. Let’s wrestle. If I win, I’ll make you into a skeleton like me.”

  “My friend,” said the young man, “I don’t feel like wrestling with you, I feel like sledding. There’s enough snow on the hill for that. I should have buffalo ribs for it, but your rib cage will go.”

  The young man took the ghost’s rib cage and used it as a sled. “This is fun!” he said, whizzing down the hill.

  “Stop, stop,” cried the ghost’s skull. “You’re breaking my ribs!”

  The young man said: “Friend, you look funny without a rib cage. You’ve grown so short. Here!” And he threw the ribs into a stream.

  “Look what you’ve done! What can I do without my ribs? I need them.”

  “Jump in the water and dive for them,” said the young man. “You look as if you need a bath. It’ll do you good, and your woman will appreciate it.”

  “What do you mean? I am a woman!” said the ghost, insulted.

  “With skeletons I can’t tell, you pretty thing,” he said, and walked on.

  Then he came upon the chief ghost, a skeleton riding a skeleton horse. “I’ve come to kill you,” said the skeleton.

  The young man made faces at the ghost. He rolled his eyes; he showed his teeth; he gnashed them; he made weird noises. “I’m a ghost myself, a much more terrible ghost than you are,” he said.

  The skeleton got scared and tried to turn his ghost horse, but the young man seized it by the bridle. “A horse is just what I want,” he said. “I’ve walked enough. Get off!” He yanked the skeleton from its mount and broke it into pieces. The skeleton was whimpering, but the young man mounted the skeleton horse and rode it into camp. Day was just breaking, and some women who were up early to get water saw him and screamed loudly. They ran away while the whole village was awakened by their shrieking. The people looked out of their tipis and became frightened when they saw him on the ghost horse. As soon as the sun appeared, however, the skeleton vanished. The young man laughed.

  The story of his ride on the skeleton horse was told all through the camp. Later he joined a group of men and started to brag about putting the four skeleton ghosts to flight. People shook their heads, saying, “This young man is really brave. Nothing frightens him. He is the bravest man who ever lived.”

  Just then a tiny spider was crawling up this young man’s sleeve. When someone called his attention to it, he cried, “Eeeeech! Get this bug off me! Please, someone take it off, I can’t stand spiders! Eeeeeeech!” He shivered, he writhed, he carried on. A little girl laughed and took the spider off him.

  —Told by Lame Deer, and recorded by Richard Erdoes.

  THE LAND OF THE DEAD

  [SERRANO]

  A great hunter brought home a wife. They loved each other and were very happy. But the man’s mother hated the young wife, and one day when the husband was out hunting, she put a sharp, pointed object in the wife’s seat, and the woman sat down upon it and was killed.

  The people immediately brought brush and piled it up. They put her body on it and burned it, and by the time her husband returned that night the body was all consumed.

  The man went to the burning place and stayed there motionless. Curls of dust rose and whirled about the charred spot. He watched them all night and all day. At evening they grew larger, and at last one larger than all the rest whirled round and round the burned spot. It set off down the road and he set off after it. When it was quite dark, he saw that the dust he was following was his wife, but she would not speak to him.

  She was leading him in the direction of the rock past which all dead people go. If they have lived bad lives, the rock falls on them and crushes them. When they came to it, she spoke to her husband. “We are going to the place of dead people,” she told him. “I will take you on my back so that you will not be seen and recognized as one of the living.”

  Thus they traveled on until they came to the river that the dead have to ford. This was very dangerous for the man because he was not dead, but the woman kept him on her back, and they came through safely. The woman went directly to her people, to her parents and brothers and sisters who had died before. They were glad to see her, but they did not like the man, for he was not dead. The woman pleaded for him, however, and they let him stay. Special food always had to be cooked for him, because he could not eat what dead people live on. And in the daytime he could see nothing; it was as if he were alone all day long; only in the night did he see his wife and the other people.

  When the dead were going hunting, they took him along and stationed him on the trail the deer would take. Presently he heard them shouting, “The deer, the deer!” and he knew they were shouting to him that the deer were coming in his direction. But he could see nothing. Then he looked again and spotted two little black beetles, which he knocked over. When all the people had come up, they praised him for his hunting.

  After that the dead did not complain about his presence, but they did feel sorry for him. “It’s not time for him to die yet,” they said. “He has a hard time here. The woman ought to go back with him.” So they arranged for both of them to return, and they instructed the man and the woman to have nothing to do with each other for three nights after they were back on earth.

  Three nights for the dead, however, meant three years for the living. Not aware of this, the husband and wife returned to earth and remained continent for three nights. The following evening they embraced, and when the husband woke on the morning of the fourth day, he was alone.

  —From a story reported by Ruth Benedict in 1926.

  THE DOUBLE-FACED GHOST

  [CHEYENNE]

  There was a ghost who was immensely tall, with arms and legs of colossal length. He had two faces, one looking forward and one looking backward, and for this reason he was called the Double-faced Ghost. He was not too bad—for a ghost, that is. He was so big that he could step over the widest rivers, and over hills too. He was also a mighty hunter, since he could catch any game that came in sight with his wonderfully long arms. But in spite of his talents, Double-Face was not happy because he could not find himself a suitable wife.

  One day he came upon a tent standing all by itself in the middle of the prairie. In it lived a man, his wife, and their daughter, who was young and beautiful. Hiding behind a hill, the Double-faced Ghost saw the girl from afar and immediately fell in love with her. He said to himself: “I must have her for my wife! Of course, she might not want me, and her father too might think that she and I are ill-matched. So I’ll start by supplying this family with so much good, fat meat that they’ll see what a fine husband I’d make.”

  The ghost went hunting and caught a lot of game with his long arms. Every morning in the darkness before dawn, he brought a great load of meat and left it in front of the tipi. The parents and the girl were delighted and wondered what hunter was giving them all this fine red meat. The father said: “I must find out who is doing us this kindness,” but he never caught a glimpse of the Double-faced Ghost. Yet morning after morning there was a new load of meat stacked up before the tipi—more than the three people could eat, even if the dogs also had their fill.

  At last the father dug himself a hole behind a clump of bushes, crept into it on a moonlit night, and stayed awake to watch. Before dawn he saw the Double-faced Ghost come, leave his load of meat, and go away. The man went back to his family trembling with fear. He told his wife and daughter to strike the tent and pack up, because it was a terrible monster who had been bringing the meat. The three got away as fast as they could, and the next morning Double-Face found the tent gone. He waited until it was light and then followed their tracks. With his long legs he soon overtook them.

  “Wait wait, good people,” Double-Face shouted. “I mean you no harm. I have only kind feelings toward you,” In a few more strides he came level with the fleeing family. “Stop! stop!” he cried. “Let’s sit down and talk!”

  What could the
three people do? Though very much afraid, they sat down. The ghost towered over them.

  “You were kind to leave all that meat,” the man said. “But what do you want from us?”

  “I am in love with your daughter,” said the Double-Faced One. “I want her for a wife.”

  Naturally the father was not willing to give her to the ghost, and the daughter would not have gone even if her father had asked it. After all, what girl wants a husband ten times taller than she, with one face looking forward and one backward? On the other hand, the father did not want to make this giant angry. So he said: “You are indeed kind and handsome, and a mighty hunter too. Who wouldn’t want a man like you for his daughter’s husband? What daughter wouldn’t be happy to have you? Now, I’m sure you know the custom of my people in such matters.”

  “What custom?” asked the Double-Faced Ghost.

  “Well, we always play hide-the-plumpit. If the suitor wins, he gets the girl. If he doesn’t, he gives something of value.”

  “Really?” said the ghost. “I never heard of this custom. It sounds unusual.”

  “Not at all,” said the father. “We’ve had it since the world began, and we must stick to it or suffer great misfortunes.”

  “Well, in that case let’s play.”

  “You are a wise and accommodating man,” said the father. “As I said, if you win I will give you my daughter, but if you lose you will go on leaving a pile of meat for us in the morning—though maybe only every other day.” What the Double-faced Ghost didn’t know was that the father was the best hidden-plumpit player in the world.

  They played. The father’s hands were so quick that the ghost could not follow them and locate the pit. On top of that, the girl and her mother drummed and sang funny songs, which distracted him. So the father won easily. Double-Faced Ghost accepted his loss and went on bringing meat as long as the people lived, even after the daughter married. As I said, he wasn’t bad—for a ghost.

  —From a tale reported by Alfred L. Kroeber in 1900.

  A JOURNEY TO THE

  SKELETON HOUSE

  [HOPI]

  Haliksai! In Shongopavi where the people were first living, a curious young man would often sit at the edge of the village looking at the graveyards. He wondered what became of the dead, if they really continued to live somewhere else. He asked his father, who could tell him very little. His father was the village chief, and he said that he would speak to the other chiefs and to his assistants about it. He asked the village criers whether they knew anything that would help his son. “Yes,” they said, “Badger Old Man has the medicine that will answer his questions.” So they called Badger Old Man, and when he arrived, they said, “this young man is thinking about the dead—whether they live anywhere. You know about it, and you have medicine that can show him.” “Very well,” he said, “I’ll go and get my medicine.”

  So he went to his house, looked over his medicines, and finally found the right one. “This is it,” he said, and took it to the village chief. “Very well,” he said. “Tomorrow put a white kilt on your son and then blacken his chin with tóho, with black shale, and tie a small eagle feather to his forehead. These are the very preparations used for the dead.” The next morning they dressed the young man in this way, and Badger Old Man spread a white ówa on the floor and told the young man to lie on it. He gave the young man some medicine to eat and also placed medicine in his ears and on his heart. Then he wrapped him in a robe, whereupon the young man, after moving a little, “died.” “This is the medicine,” Badger Old Man said. “If he hears this, he will go far away but he will also come back again. He wanted to see something and find out something, and with this medicine he will do just that.”

  After the young man had fallen asleep, he saw a path leading westward. It was the road to the skeleton house. This path he followed, and after a while he met a woman sitting by the roadside. “What have you come for?” she asked the young man. “I have come,” he replied, “to find out about your life here.” “Yes,” the other one said, “I didn’t follow the straight road; I didn’t listen, and I now have to wait here. After a certain number of days I can go on a little, then I can go on again, but it will be a long time before I shall get to skeleton house.” She pointed to an enclosure of sticks, which was all the house and protection she had.

  From here the path led westward through large cactus and agave plants so full that they sometimes hid the way. He finally arrived at the rim of a steep bluff, where a chief was sitting. He was a Kwaniita, and had a white line around his right eye and a big horn for a headdress. He also asked the young man why he had come, and the latter told him. “Very well,” the chief said. “Away over there is the house that you are looking for.” But a great deal of smoke in the distance hid the house from the young man’s view. The chief spread the young man’s kilt on the ground, placed the young man on it, then lifted it up. Holding it over the precipice, the chief threw it forward, whereupon the kilt carried the young man slowly down like a giant bird.

  When he had arrived on the ground below the bluff, he put on his kilt again and proceeded. In the distance he saw a column of smoke rising. After he had proceeded a distance, he came upon Skeleton Woman and asked her what the smoke was. “Some of those who were wicked while they lived in the village were thrown in there,” she said. “The bad chiefs send their people over this road, and then they are destroyed; they no longer exist. You must not go there,” she added. “Keep on this road and go straight ahead toward skeleton house.”

  When at last he arrived at skeleton house, he did not see anyone except a few children playing there. “Oh!” they said, “here a skeleton has come,” and by the time he went into the village, all the people—or skeletons, rather—living there had heard about him and gathered to stare. “Who are you?” they asked the young man. “I am the village chief’s son. I came from Shongopavi.”

  So they pointed toward the Bear clan, saying, “Those are the people that you want to see. They are your ancestors.” A skeleton took him over to the house where his clan lived and showed him the ladder that led up to the house. The rungs of the ladder were made of sunflower stems, and the first rung broke as soon as he stepped on it, though the skeletons went up and down the ladder with no trouble. “I shall have to stay down here,” he said; “bring me food and feed me here.” So the skeletons brought him some melon, watermelon, and chukuviki.

  When they saw him eat, they laughed at him; they are lighter than air because they never eat the food, but only its odor or soul. And that is the reason why the clouds into which the dead are transformed are not heavy and can float in the air. The food itself the skeletons threw out behind the houses, which is where they got his meal. When he had finished, they asked him what he had come for. He said, “I was wondering whether skeletons lived somewhere. I told my father I wanted to go and find out, and he dressed me up in this way and Badger Old Man gave me some medicine to make it happen.” “So that’s what you have come for; well, look at us.” Then they added: “It’s not light here; it’s not as light as where you live. We actually live poorly here. You cannot stay with us here yet; your flesh is still strong and ‘salty.’ You still eat food; we eat only the odor of the food. But when you go back, you must work there for us. Make nakwakwosis for us at the Soyal ceremony. These we tie around our foreheads, and they represent dropping rain. We shall work for you here, too. We shall send you rain and crops. You must wrap up in the owa women when they die, and tie the big knotted belt around them, because these owas are not tightly woven. When the skeletons move along on them through the sky as clouds, the thin rain drops through these owas, and the big raindrops fall from the fringes of the big belt. Sometimes you cannot see the clouds distinctly, because they are hidden behind these nakwakwosis, just as our faces are hidden behind them.”

  Looking around, the young man saw some of the skeletons walking around with huge burdens on their backs. These were mealing stones, which they carried by a thin string over th
e forehead that had cut deeply into the skin. Others carried bundles of cactus on their backs, and as they had no clothes on, the thorns of the cactus hurt them. He was told that some had to submit to such punishments for a certain length of time, then were relieved of them and could live with the others. At another place in the skeleton house he saw the chiefs who had been good here in this world and had made a good road for other people. They had taken their tiponis, their protective medicine,* and set them up there, and when the people here in the villages have their ceremonies and smoke during the ceremonies, this smoke goes down into the other world to the tiponis or mothers and from there rises up in the form of clouds.

  After the young man had seen everything and satisfied his curiosity, he set off to his own village. When he arrived at the steep bluff, he again mounted his kilt and a slight breeze lifted him up. He met the Kwaniita chief, who told him, “Your father and mother are mourning for you now, so you’d better return home.” This was the last person he met on his way back.

  When he had just about arrived at his house, his body, which was still lying under the covering in the room where he had fallen asleep, began to move, and as they joined once more, it came to life again. They removed the covering, and Badger Old Man wiped his body, washed the paint off his face, and discharmed him. Then he sat up. They fed him and asked what he had found out. He recounted all of his experiences in detail—the woman with the house of brush, the Kwaniita chief and his flight on a kilt, and all about the skeleton house—the skeletons with heavy burdens of cactus and stones, and even the skeletons’ food. “I have seen it all myself now, and I shall remember it. We are living in the light here. They are living in the dark there. No one should desire to go there.”