The Greenwood Library of American Folktales 4 volumes

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The Greenwood Library of American Folktales Volumes I–IV

Edited by Thomas A. Green

Greenwood Press

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales VOLUME I

The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic


GREENWOOD PRESS Westport, Connecticut • London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data The Greenwood Library of American folktales / edited by Thomas A. Green. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-313-33772-1 (set : alk. paper)—ISBN 0-313-33773-X (vol. 1 : alk. paper)—ISBN 0-31333774-8 (vol. 2 : alk. paper)—ISBN 0-313-33775-6 (vol. 3 : alk. paper)—ISBN 0-313-33776-4 (vol. 4 : alk. paper) 1. Tales—United States—History and criticism. 2. Legends—United States— History and criticism. 3. United States—Folklore. I. Green, Thomas A., 1944– GR105.G75 2006 398.20973—dc22 2006022952 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright © 2006 by Thomas A. Green All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2006022952 ISBN: 0-313-33772-1 (set) 0-313-33773-X (vol. I) 0-313-33774-8 (vol. II) 0-313-33775-6 (vol. III) 0-313-33776-4 (vol. IV) First published in 2006 Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.greenwood.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48–1984). 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright materials in this book, but in some instances that has proven impossible. The author and publisher will be glad to receive information leading to more complete acknowledgments in subsequent prints of the book and in the meantime extend their apologies for any omissions.

Contents

VOLUME I Preface

xi

The Northeast Introduction Origins The Making of the World Glooscap Gluska’be Steals Summer for the People, Escapes from the Crows, and Overcomes Winter Black Cat and the Sable Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah, Mother Oo-kwa-e, and the Lost Boy How Money Cove Got Its Name The Mohawks on the War-Path Gańaá’s Adventures among the Cherokee The Thunderers Thursday Off Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools Froth of Water

1 3 9 9 12 15 17 20 26 28 32 36 40 42 45 45

Contents

Rose Wolf of the Greenwood How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune Gluska’be the Deceiver The Fight with the Giant Witch The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince The Three Brothers and the Hag Rusty Jack Three Men of Galway Nobleman and His Cook The Little Cakeen Outwitting the King Tim Murphy’s Escape You Hear a Lot of Them Things The Birds Take Back Their Feathers; The Insult Midstream; Playing Dead Lazy Maria My Son Ali The Forgetful Boy The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales The Secret Room Dr. B., the Witch Doctor New Hampshire Witches Jake Strauss Tijaiha the Sorcerer American Vampires Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains Supernatural Legends of Chappaquiddick Granny Steel The Vanishing Hitch-hiker and the Cabbie The Unseen Helpers The Powers That Be: Secular Tales Contempt for His Torturers Nobleman and the Minister The Song of the Coffee Pot

vi

50 52 54 61 64 69 72 77 81 85 87 89 91 92 94 97 100 104 107 107 109 112 115 116 120 121 123 125 126 127 131 131 132 134

Contents

Railway Chefs The Suit the Sparrow Won The Twist-Mouth Family The Midwest Introduction Origins The Flood The Origin of Vegetation Wisa`kä Wabasaiy Legendary Origin of the Kickapoos The Origin of the Sauks and Foxes Muskrat’s Tail How the Wildcat Got Its Spots Why the Deer Has a Short Tail Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools Bear Maiden The Chief’s Daughters Aiini How the Big Turtle Went on the Warpath Boxer Davey Day Battle with the Comanches Cab Driver Con Man The Orphan and the Turkeys Fox and Wolf Manabozho Gets Scared and Takes a Journey Turtle Trying to Get Credit “It Was So Cold That...” Noggin and the Applejack Nebraska Weather Dividing the Chicken The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales The Traveler

138 140 143 145 147 151 151 158 159 162 164 165 168 169 170 173 173 176 178 187 190 193 194 196 198 202 207 216 219 223 225 227 227

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Contents

Providence Hole Rescue By Lightning The Rolling Skull The Powers That Be: Secular Tales A Pioneer Crossing the Midwest General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana II: Ripley County

236 238 239 243 243 247 253

The Mid-Atlantic Introduction Origins Jack-O’-My-Lantern How the Jays Saved Their Souls Trouble (Rabbit Loses His Tail) Why Frog Lives in the Water How the Moors Came to be in Delaware Grandfather’s Escape to Free Haven Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools Jack and the Bean-Pole Magic Flight Tablecloth, Donkey, and Club Above Ground and Below Ground The British Are Coming Does a Cow Have Pigs? Playing Dead Twice in the Road Playing Godfather Possum and Weasel Have a Falling Out How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse Dog and Dog-Head Getting Rid of the Overseer Rabbit, Fox, and the Tarbaby Take My Place Rabbit Escapes from the Pea Patch In the Bee Tree

259 261 265 265 268 269 270 271 272 275 275 278 279 281 282 283 285 287 288 290 292 294 295 297 298 300

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Contents

Brer Rabbit Dines on Brer Wolf In Liquor Rabbit Seeks Meat Lion Brooks No Rival The Watcher Tricked Voice Above Three Ends Three More Fools Chair on His Head Moon Cheese: Two Irishmen at the Well Where’s Mr. McGinnis? The Race Dividing the Souls First Out The Single Ball The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales The Traveling Preacher at the Haunted House The Dismembered Ghost The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge Husband Tells of Treasure The Thief at the Haunted House Mr. Peacock and the Deadly Ghost Cures of a Maryland Witch Curing a Bewitched Cow Binding a Dog Out of Her Skin Out of Their Skins The Snake-Wife The Doe with a Ring Woman Cat The Brothers Who Married Witches Trapping a Hag Keeping Off Witches Mark Flaherty

301 303 303 305 306 308 309 310 311 312 313 314 315 316 318 321 321 322 324 326 326 328 330 332 333 334 335 336 337 338 340 342 343 344

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Contents

Vengeance on a Witch Rider The Captive Witch Wife Witch’s Apprentice Death by Conjuring The Six Witches Battling Witches Mate to the Devil Soul or Sole The Powers That Be: Secular Tales Judgment Day Going to Heaven The Lord and Langton To Torment Already Rank

346 346 347 348 350 352 353 354 357 357 358 359 360 361

Appendix: Original Versions The Northeast Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird The Birds Take Back Their Feathers; The Insult Midstream; Playing Dead Di Granni Shdil Der Tshe¯k Shtraus The Suit the Sparrow Won The Mid-Atlantic Jack-O’-M-Lantern How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse Does a Cow Have Pigs? Mr. Peacock and the Deadly Ghost Glossary Bibliography to Volume I General Bibliography Cumulative Index

363 363 363 365 367 368 369 371 371 373 375 376 379 381 389 405

x

Preface

I

f our artistic productions provide a reliable index, we humans are deeply committed to a sense of place. In many ways, folktales are the art forms that speak most directly of who we are and where we stand vis-à-vis the rest of the world; therefore, they provide crucial evidence for gauging the importance of region to the human experience. Folktales commonly focus on the origin of significant forms of animal or plant life, social and sacred institutions. Narratives associated with local landmarks tie the history of the people to a physical site. This is true whether the tale is the folk biography of a founding father or mother or a cycle of supernatural legends depicting encounters with the local ghost or bogeyman. Tall tales of rich soil, malicious climate, or extraordinary flora and fauna provide a sense not only of human perceptions regarding the nature of a geographic region but also of the character of its inhabitants. Folklore as a living expression of group identity and as an attempt to organize experience within a given environment is particularly responsive to the sense of self and environment. There are, of course, many shared factors that potentially may serve as the basis for the creation of the shared identity and worldview which in turn find expression by means of proverbs, festivals, tales, and other traditional forms as the group strives to articulate a sense of self. Among the shared factors giving rise to group identity are ethnicity, gender, kinship, occupation, and religion. The Greenwood Library of American Folktales* does not minimize the preceding factors. However, region—the geographic locale of bodies of folk narrative—is used as the primary organizing principle for this collection. * Please note that “American” in the present context refers to the United States. There is no intention, however, of ignoring the existence of other national entities in the Americas.

Preface

Although the concept of “region” has varied from single counties to multistate entities, organization by means of region has been an important means of understanding folktales and other forms of folklore since the early days of the discipline and has been especially important in the United States. The activities of the American Folklore Society attest to the members’ concern with regional cultures. Established in 1888, the society laid out the general goal of concentrating on the folklore of North America, but expressed a particular interest in immigrant, Native American, and African American traditional materials. From the earliest issues of the Society’s major publication, the Journal of American Folklore, into the twenty-first century, contributors presented collections organized geographically—in terms of states (e.g., Massachusetts, North Carolina, Louisiana), regions (e.g., the South, the Southwest), or by a combination of geographic and ethnic features (e.g., Mountain Whites, Pennsylvania Germans). The model proved influential in book-length works as well. In the mid-twentieth century, however, scholars took issue with the fact that most of these early works, as important as the data proved to be, were no more than grab-bags composed of the folklore of a given region. They were collections that stopped short of the consideration of the interaction between the groups’ environments and the products of the folk imagination. Led by folklorist Benjamin A. Botkin, editor of the journal Folksay: A Regional Miscellany and guiding light of the Federal Writers Project, regional studies entered a particularly fruitful period from the 1930s to the 1950s. This period saw the growth of regional studies via state and regional folklore societies, the journals that followed in the wake of the societies founded, and region-specific studies such as those of Mody Coggin Boatright (Texas), Frank C. Brown (North Carolina), Aurelio Espinosa (the Hispanic Southwest), and Vance Randolph (the Ozarks); dozens of other scholars could be added to this list. In the late 1950s, regional studies began to emerge that united ecology, history, and culture in order to shed light on the interrelationships between regions, their inhabitants, and the traditional art forms created or adapted by the group. This watershed period was marked by publications such as Richard Dorson’s Bloodstoppers and Bearwalkers: Folk Traditions of the Upper Peninsula (1952), his chapter on “Regional Folk Cultures” in American Folklore (1959), Richard M. Dorson’s Buying the Wind: Regional Folklore in the United States (1964), and, perhaps most significant, Américo Paredes’ “With His Pistol in His Hand”: A Border Ballad and its Hero (1958). The fact that the majority of the tales in the present collection were drawn from the “Golden Age” of regional collections attests to the importance of the work carried on from the late-nineteenth through the mid-twentieth centuries.

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Preface

In contemporary folkloristics, the relationship between region and traditional art is a given, and in the scholarship is most often identified as “reflexivity” (e.g., Barbara Allen, Archie Green, and William Lightfoot). The term is intended to underscore the fact that lore, identity, and the concept of region mutually shape and are shaped by one another. The notion of reflexivity is at the heart of the present collection. Living in close proximity in a common environment promotes not only similarities in lifestyles and material culture, but often commonalities in the expression of sentiments regarding the shared way of life. The narratives of the regions included in The Greenwood Library of American Folktales are shaped by the historical, social, and environmental features particular to the region. Even in the face of the globalism of the twenty-first century regionalism remains a central concept to the study of folk narrative. In response to this apparent threat, during the last decade of the twentieth century the concept of “critical regionalism” came to be employed in the study of folklore. Borrowed from architecture, the term critical regionalism refers to studies that explore ways in which the local contends with the international. Understanding that the process is an interaction between the folk community and region on one hand and the “larger than local” (Shuman 1993) on the other, as distinct from a domination of local identity by global forces, regional studies of folklore have continuing relevance in the twenty-first century. The Greenwood Library of American Folktales recognizes these issues by the inclusion of a section of examples that are electronically transmitted via e-mail. The four volume Greenwood Library of American Folktales is designed to facilitate access to a range of traditional narrative genres for educators, students, and researchers who require examples to illustrate and comprehend the abstract definitions commonly supplied by the standard reference works in folklore. The collection focuses on the narrative folklore of the United States. An effort has been made to include materials extending from the earliest collected material to the most contemporary. The majority of the examples, however, will be drawn from the “Golden Age” of regional collections in the United States (ca. 1880–1950s). The narrative genres include jokes, folktales, legends, myths, and personal experience narratives. Each of these types and other key terms are defined in the Glossary included in each volume. These forms and concepts are identified by the use of boldface. To support additional research on the tales, each volume incorporates a bibliography of works consulted for that volume’s selections and editorial commentary. A general bibliography of all works consulted also is included in each volume.

xiii

Preface

Introductory essays are provided for each region. These introductions characterize the ecology and history of the regions from which the narratives are drawn, contextualize the individual items, and delineate the relationships between these narratives and other cultural institutions such as religion, festival, folk medicine, and material culture. A set of suggested readings follow each introduction for those who wish to explore these topics in greater detail. More focused discussions are included in the headnotes of individual tales. In addition to identifying the tradition bearer, his or her ethnic and regional background, and providing bibliographic information on the source of a narrative, these headnotes strive to explain those features of the tale that might prove perplexing to readers who are unfamiliar with the culture that constitutes the narrative’s natural habitat. These features include, for example, biographical data concerning historical figures mentioned in the text, relevant folkways to which the tale alludes, and specific features of the physical environment that affect the worldview of performers and audiences. In an effort to avoid unnecessary repetition, the reader may be referred to useful cultural information on the tradition bearer’s group and related groups in the introductory notes to other tales. Neither regions themselves nor the enclaves within each of the regions is hermetically sealed. Tales travel across geographic, ethnic, and social boundaries along with the people who tell them. To underscore this important fact, the headnotes identify those narrative plots or motifs that are common across broad culture areas by name (for example, the Native American “Earthdiver” plot or the “ghostly guardian” motif of treasure tales) or by reference to standard classification systems. The classifications used in the present collection are Antti Aarne and Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography (Cited as AT, Type, or Tale Type followed by the appropriate number), Ernest W. Baughman, Type and Motif-Index of the Folktales of England and North America (Cited as Baughman Type or Baughman Motif followed by the appropriate number or letter), and Stith Thompson, The Motif Index of Folk Literature (Cited as Motif followed by the appropriate letter and numbers). Thus, “Rose” (p. 50) is identified as AT425C, a variant of the well-known “Beauty and the Beast” tale. Similarly, the internationally distributed motif, the “Magic Wishing Object,” assigned the classification D1470.1 by Thompson, is identified as an element of the Native American tale “The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince” (p. 69). When appropriate, headnotes demonstrate the centrality of certain narrative themes to the American folktale repertoire by directing readers to similar tales in this collection that are found in different regions and diverse cultural settings.

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Preface

The tales of each region are consigned to one of three major categories based on the primary theme of a narrative: “Origins”; “Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools”; or “The Powers That Be.” Within each category, tales are grouped by themes rather than by ethnic group; when feasible, similar plot types have been clustered together. “Origins” focuses on beginnings, including narratives ranging from creation myths that detail the establishment of fundamental patterns of the cosmos, folktales that account for minor characteristics of common animal and plant species, and family legends that serve to bind one’s forebears to the history of the region. “Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools” considers the characters who serve as models for imitation or avoidance, the violators, and those who bend the rules to their own ends. The final category, “The Powers That Be,” considers those forces (civil and supernatural) that seek to influence or dominate the characters of the tales. This category is further divided into “Sacred” and “Secular” powers in those regions in which such division proves necessary because the tales themselves fall distinctively into one of the two groups. In many cases, narratives are modified from their original forms for the benefit of contemporary readers. In the vast majority of cases this is in order to translate a collector’s attempts at rendering a regional dialect into a dialect of contemporary American English. Representative examples of these narratives are included in appendices to each volume in which significant modification of tale texts has proved necessary. Every effort has been made to perform a minimum amount of modification. In a small number of cases, alternative terminology has been substituted for terms (particularly racially charged terms) that could prove offensive to contemporary readers. The volumes of The Greenwood Library of American Folktales are organized in the following fashion: • • • •

Volume I: The Northeast, the Midwest, the Mid-Atlantic Volume II: The South, the Caribbean Volume III: The Southwest, the Plains and Plateau, the West (including Hawaii) Volume IV: The Northwest, Cyberspace

If there is a cross reference to a tale within the same volume, the reference will only list the page number where the tale starts. If a cross reference refers to a tale in another volume, the volume number is given as well.

SUGGESTED READINGS Allen, Barbara, and Thomas Schlereth. A Sense of Place: American Regional Cultures. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1990.

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Boatright, Mody Coggin. Mody Boatright, Folklorist: A Collection of Essays. Edited by Ernest B. Speck. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973. Botkin, Benjamin A. A Treasury of American Folklore: The Stories, Legends, Tall Tales, Traditions, Ballads and Songs of the American People. New York: Crown, 1944. Dorson, Richard. Buying the Wind: Regional Folklore in the United States. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964. Espinosa, Aurelio. The Folklore of Spain in the American Southwest: Traditional Spanish Folk Literature in Northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado. Edited by J. Manuel Espinosa. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985. Green, Archie. Calf’s Head and Union Tale: Labor Yarns at Work and Play. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1996. Lightfoot, William E. “Regional Folkloristics.” Handbook of American Folklore. Edited by Richard Dorson. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1983. Paredes, Américo. With His Pistol in His Hand: A Border Ballad and Its Hero. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1958. Randolph, Vance. Hot Springs and Hell; and other Folk Jests and Anecdotes from the Ozarks. Hatboro, PA.: Folklore Associates, 1965. Shuman, Amy. “Dismantling Local Culture.” Western Folklore 52 (1993): 345–64.

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THE NORTHEAST

Introduction

T

he Northeast, for purposes of the present collection, includes the states of Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont. Extending north to south from the Canadian border to the Mid-Atlantic states of Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, and extending east to west from the Atlantic Ocean to the Great Lakes and Midwest yields a diverse geographic, occupational, and cultural mix. The Northeastern region has a terrain varying from the rocky coastline of Maine and New Hampshire in New England to the fertile farmland bordering on the Allegheny River in South Central Pennsylvania. The rocky cliffs of Maine’s northern Atlantic coast eventually give way to the sandy beaches in areas such as Cape Cod in Massachusetts. Islands—for example, Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard, Long Island, and Manhattan—line the coast. The terrain and climate have supported agriculture, industry, and maritime occupations. Relatively sparse populations characterize states such as Maine and Vermont, whereas high population concentrations typify the urban Northeast, which is the home of the largest metropolitan area in the United States, New York City. As a result, the folktales of this region may be seen as reponses to the occupations, lifestyles, and landscapes of the region. The lonely moors of a small island off Martha’s Vineyard are reflected, for example, in “Supernatural Legends of Chappaquiddick” (p. 123), as is the habitat of Pennsylvania German farmers in “Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains” (p. 121). The major urban centers— Boston, New York City, and Philadelphia, for example—served as magnets for many newly arrived immigrants. The Old World traditions maintained in these

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales | Volume I

urban ethnic enclaves—Eastern European, Middle Eastern, Irish, and African— are revealed in the tales in this section: “Thursday Off” (p. 40), “The Song of the Coffee Pot” (p. 134), “Three Men of Galway” (p. 81), and “Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird” (p. 42), respectively. The occupations that developed within each of these ecological niches were the sources of narratives representing these ways of earning a living both to outsiders and to other group members. The qualities of modern work portray the gamut of experiences from the mundane conflicts of worker and supervisor as in “Railway Chefs” (p. 138) to the bizarre in “The Vanishing Hitch-hiker and the Cabbie” (p. 126). On the other hand, “Tim Murphy’s Escape” (p. 91) represents the features of a world, albeit somewhat exaggerated in this tall tale, that awaited the European immigrants who made their way inland to pursue the farming life. As farmers, such as Tim Murphy, pushed into the New York countryside, early lifeways, regrettably, were displaced. The Native American world does live on, however, in narrative form; see, for example, the Iroquois legend “Gańaá’s Adventures among the Cherokee” (p. 32). The centrality of maritime trades, both legal and illegal, along the coasts makes the presence of pirate legends in the vein of “How Money Cove Got its Name” (p. 26) inevitable. As is the case with all regions of the United States, the original foundation for the folktales of the Northeast was laid by Native American cultures. The primary indigenous inhabitants of New England were Eastern Algonquin peoples such as the Abenaki, Maliseet, and Penobscot who, depending on the climate of the particular area in which the group lived, subsisted by means of fishing, hunting, gathering wild plant foods, and some agriculture. Their narrative tradtions are represented in this collection by, for example, “The Fight with the Giant Witch” (p. 64) and, especially, by the narratives of Glooscap—their trickster and culture hero known by slightly different names according to the specific language spoken by the tradition bearers. “Glooscap” (p. 12) and “Gluska’be Steals Summer for the People, Escapes from the Crows, and Overcomes Winter” (p. 15) are examples. Their constant conflict with the neighboring Iroquois Confederacy is mirrored in “The Mohawks on the War-path” (p. 28). Like their Algonquin neighbors, the Huron, who called themselves Wendat, (Wyandot is the Anglicized form of their name) were locked in constant struggle with the Iroquois to the southeast. The constant state of warfare led to the construction of fortified villages for protection against the Iroquois League. The use of fortifications and longhouses as dwellings was made possible through the Huron’s cultivativation of the staple of Native American agriculturalists, corn. After European contact, conflict between the French and the English, who quickly enlisted Native American allies, intensifed the warfare between the

4

The Northeast | Introduction

Huron and the League. The Huron worldview emerges in the myths “The Making of the World” (p. 9) and “The Thunderers” (p. 36), while their enmity toward the Iorquois is clear in “Tijaiha the Sorcerer” (p. 116). The Iroquois Confederacy, whose members figure so prominently in the traditional narratives of both the Huron and the Algonquin groups, dominated not only their Native American neighbors, but were a formidable power overall in the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Northeast. The Cayuga, Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, and Seneca nations formed the League before European contact (dates vary from 500 to 200 years precontact). Later the Tuscarora, who had fled from the south seeking Iroquois protection, were added as a nonvoting member. The subsistence of the Iroquois came from agriculture as well as the abundant game and fish in the western New York area where they established their permanent settlements. Like other agricultural cultures, their major religious devotions followed the cycle of planting, growth, and harvest, although the Iroquois narrative repertoire, like the repertoires of their neighbors, reveals early European influence. The efforts of early folklorists, anthropologists, and linguists have led to an extensive narrative collection, including both myth and legend as seen in examples included in this collection: “The Unseen Helpers” (p. 127), “Gańaá’s Adventures among the Cherokee” (p. 32), “Grandmother O-ne-hatah, Mother Oo-kwa-e, and the Lost Boy” (p. 20). English religious dissenters first established European footholds in the Northeast in the early seventeenth century. After landing in Massachusetts, their first settlement of the colony “New Plymouth” in 1620 later became Plymouth, Massachusetts and was absorbed by Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1691. Between 1629 and 1640, 20,000 English Puritans had arrived in the Americas, and most settled in the New England area. Early more-or-less cordial relations with the Native American population eventually disintegrated, resulting in the decimation of the indigenous inhabitants of the New England region. Clear evidence of the contact between the British immigrants and the native cultures persists in folklore such as “The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince” (p. 69). This Penobscot narrative more closely resembles the European ordinary folktale than it does any Native American tale tradition. Although the French (strictly speaking) established no settlements in the Northeast, they exercised an influence on the culture of the area through their involvement with Native American cultures such as the Huron and some members of the Iroquois League. In order to further their interest in the fur trade, from the early seventeenth century they formed alliances and established settlements whose networks of power extended to both sides of the border between modern Canada and the United States.

5


On the southern extremes of the Northeast, the Dutch East India Company established trading posts on the Hudson River and laid claim to the territory between the Connecticut and Delaware Rivers. This area included the modern northeastern states of Connecticut, New York, and part of Pennsylvania. Between 1609 and 1664, 8,000 Dutch settlers inhabited the New Netherlands (contemporary New York and New Jersey). In 1626, New Amsterdam (later New York City) was established. Among the areas populated early on by the Dutch were modern Schoharie County, a subregion in which both Dutch and German immigrants came to live as neighbors. With time, distinctions such as the national origin of tales became blurred; thus, whereas tales such as “Wolf of the Greenwood” (p. 52) carry the label “German,” this should not be construed as absolute any more than the “Dutch” label applies to the “Dutch” lore of Pennsylvania. The so-called Pennsylvania Dutch (actually the Pennsylvania Germans) are descendants of German-speaking immigrants who came to Pennsylvania from various parts of southwest Germany, Alsace, and Switzerland. Members of these groups migrated early into several colonies but mostly to Pennsylvania as early as the seventeenth century. By 1776 they comprised a third of the population of Pennsylvania. Most eventually came to live in the southeastern region of the state. “Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains” (p. 121), “Jake Strauss,” (p. 115), and “Granny Steel” (p. 125) are representative of the tales preserved within this cultural enclave. “Dr. B., the Witch Doctor” (p. 109) and other supernatural legends from Schoharie County, New York, demonstrate the strong current of supernaturalism running through the German corpus of tales. Pennsylvania German culture coexists with the traditions of other European-descended groups as seen by the persistence of narratives such as the Pennsylvania tall tale, “You Hear a Lot of Them Things” (p. 92). Overall, the Northeast is an area of extraordinary ethnic diversity owing, in part, to the fact that New York was established early in the history of the United States as a major point of entry for immigrants. Many stayed or moved to other northeastern cities such as Boston or Philadelphia, where they established urban sectors that came to be the local “Chinatown,” “Little Italy,” “Little Syria,” and so forth. The diversity noted earlier notwithstanding, unifying factors may be seen at work within the tales of this volume. Across cultures, tales speak to the difficulties of making one’s way in a new, and at times hostile, culture. For example, according to the narrator, “Contempt for His Torturers” (p. 131) reflects both the misery and the proper attitude a man must maintain with a family who is unemployed. “Railway Chefs” (p. 138) addresses continuing racial tensions in

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The Northeast | Introduction

the lives of twentieth-century African Americans. The rural experience is recalled in “Tim Murphy’s Escape” (p. 91), and it is pushed to illogical extremes in “You Hear a Lot of Them Things” (p. 92). The trickster appears cross-culturally to articulate social tensions between the empowered and the deprived; see, for example, “Outwitting the King” (p. 89). As with the other volumes in this series, although efforts have been made to preserve the flavor of the original transcriptions of these tales, when necessary tales have been modified for readability by contemporary, nonspecialist readers. Therefore, unedited versions of some of the tales are included in the Appendix to illustrate the nature of their original renderings.

SUGGESTED READINGS Beck, Horace. Gluskap the Liar and Other Indian Tales. Freeport, ME: Bond Wheelright, 1966. Botkin, Benjamin A. A Treasury of New England Folklore. New York: Crown, 1944. Brendle, Thomas R., and William S. Troxell. Pennsylvania German Folk Tales, Legends, Once-upon-a-time Stories, Maxims, and Sayings. Norristown: Pennsylvania German Society, 1944. Curtin, Jeremiah. Seneca Indian Myths. New York: W. P. Dutton, 1922. Reprint, New York: Dover, 2001. Glimm, James York. Flatlanders and Ridgerunners: Folk Tales from the Mountains of Northern Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1983. Thomas, Howard. Folklore from the Adirondack Foothills. Prospect, NY: Prospect Books, 1958.

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ORIGINS THE MAKING OF THE WORLD Tradition Bearer: Alexander Clarke Source: Hale, Horatio. “Huron Folklore I: Cosmogonic Myth, the Good and Evil Minds.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 180–82. Date: 1874 Original Source: Huron National Origin: Native American

The Huron (French, hure, meaning “boar,” a reference to the men’s hairstyles, which were thought to resemble a boar’s bristles) called themselves the Wendat (“Islanders” or “Dwellers of the Peninsula”) in allusion to their original shoreline home. As suggested in the following creation myth, the Huron believed their world was surrounded by a large body of water that was carried on the back of a giant turtle and that they and other peoples lived on islands in this sea. The mythic type of the following narrative, known as “Earthdiver” is common among Native Americans. Other common Native American motifs are the self-sacrificing Earth Mother, from whose dead body the primary plant crops and the divine twins, who serve as culture heroes, spring forth. The opposite natures of the twins, one benign and the other malign, are equally common and represent the duality of the Huron universe, a world that may crush as well as sustain.


I

n the beginning there was nothing but water, a wide sea, which was peopled by various animals of the kind that live in and upon the water. It happened then that a woman fell down from the upper world. It is supposed that she was, by some mischance, pushed down by her husband through a rift in the sky. Though styled a woman, she was a divine personage. Two loons, which were flying over the water, happened to look up and see her falling. To save her from drowning they hastened to place themselves beneath her, joining their bodies together so as to form a cushion for her to rest on. In this way they held her up, while they cried with a loud voice to summon the other animals to their aid. The cry of the loon can be heard to a great distance, and the other creatures of the sea heard it, and assembled to learn the cause of the summons. Then came the tortoise (or “snapping turtle,” as narrator Alexander Clarke called it), a mighty animal, which consented to relieve the loons of their burden. They placed the woman on the back of the tortoise, charging him to take care of her. The tortoise then called the other animals to a grand council, to determine what should be done to preserve the life of the woman. They decided that she must have earth to live on. The tortoise directed them all to dive to the bottom of the sea and endeavor to bring up some earth. Many attempted it: the beaver, the musk-rat, the diver, and others, but without success. Some remained so long below that when they rose they were dead. The tortoise searched their mouths, but could find no trace of earth. At last the toad went down, and after remaining a long time rose, exhausted and nearly dead. On searching his mouth the tortoise found in it some earth, which he gave to the woman. She took it and placed it carefully around the edge of the tortoise’s shell. When thus placed, it became the beginning of dry land. The land grew and extended on every side, forming at last a great country, fit for vegetation. All was sustained by the tortoise, which still supports the earth. When the woman fell she was pregnant with twins. When these came forth they evinced opposite dispositions, the one good, the other evil. Even before they were born the same characters were manifested. They struggled together, and their mother heard them disputing. The one declared his willingness to be born in the usual manner, while the other malignantly refused, and, breaking through his mother’s side, killed her. She was buried, and from her body sprang the various vegetable productions which the new earth required to fit it for the habitation of man. From her head

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The Northeast | The Making of the World

grew the pumpkin-vine; from her breasts the maize; from her limbs the bean and the other useful plants. Meanwhile the twins grew up, showing in all they did their opposing inclinations. The name of the good one was Tijuskeha, which means, Clarke said, something like “savior, or good man.” The evil brother was named Tawiskarong, meaning flinty, or flint-like, in allusion probably to his hard and cruel nature. They were not men, but supernatural beings, who were to prepare the world to be the abode of men. Finding that they could not live together, they separated, each taking his own portion of the earth. Their first act was to create animals of various kinds. The bad brother made fierce and monstrous creatures, proper to terrify and destroy mankind: serpents, panthers, wolves, bears, all of enormous size, and huge mosquitoes, “as large as turkeys.” Among other things he made an immense toad, which drank up all the fresh water that was on the earth. In the mean time the good brother, in his province, was creating the innocent and useful animals. Among the rest he made the partridge. To his surprise, the bird rose in the air and flew toward the territory of Tawiskarong. Tijuskeha asked him whither he was going. The bird replied that he was going to look for water, as there was none left in that land, and he heard there was some in the dominion of Tawiskarong. Tijuskeha then began to suspect mischief. He followed the course which the partridge had taken, and presently reached the land of his evil brother. Here he encountered the snakes, ferocious brutes, and enormous insects which his brother had made, and overcame them. Finally he came to the monstrous toad, which he cut open, letting the water flow forth. He did not destroy the evil animals (perhaps he had not the power to do so), but he reduced them in size, so that men would be able to master them. The spirit of his mother warned him in a dream to beware of his evil brother, who would endeavor to destroy him by treachery. Finally they encountered each other, and as it was evident that they could not live together on the earth, they determined to decide by a formal combat (a duel, as Clarke styled it) which of them should remain master of the world. It was further agreed that each should make known to the other the only weapon by which he could be overcome. This extraordinary article of their agreement was probably made necessary by the fact that without such a disclosure the contest would have lasted forever. The good brother declared that he could be destroyed only by being beaten to death with a bag full of corn, beans, or some other product of the bread kind; the evil brother rejoined that he could be killed only by the horn of a deer or of some other wild animal.

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They set off a fighting-ground, or “list,” within which the combat was to take place. Tawiskarong had the first turn, or, as duelists would say, the first fire. He set upon his brother with a bag of corn or beans, chased him about the ground, and pounded him until he was nearly lifeless and lay as if dead. He revived, however (perhaps through the aid of his mother’s spirit), and, recovering his strength, pursued in turn his evil brother, beating him with a deer’s horn until he killed him. But the slain combatant was not utterly destroyed. He reappeared after death to his brother, and told him that he had gone to the far west, and that thenceforth all the races of men after death would go to the west, like him. “And,” said Clarke, “it is the belief of all the pagan Indians that after death their spirits will go to the far west, and dwell there.”

GLOOSCAP Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Jack, Edward. “Maliseet Legends.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 194–97. Date: 1895 Original Source: Maliseet National Origin: Native American

Glooscap was the superhuman trickster of the closely related New England Native American cultures such as the Abenaki, Maliseet, and Penobscot. As he performs his tasks of purging an often surreal universe of monsters (giant beavers, a homicidal squirrel, and a monstrous moose, among others) and squashing a political rebellion, he acts as an agent of order, a culture hero. This is not always the case, as seen in the myth, “Black Cat and the Sable” (p. 17). As was the case for Tijuskeha in the Huron “The Making of the World” (p. 9), the benign Glooscap is paired with a wicked twin. The motifs of the brothers’ birth and their duel to the death, in fact, bear a striking resemblance to the Huron myth.

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The Northeast | Glooscap

G

looscap was a spirit. He could do anything. He does not get old, and is said to be living yet at the south end of the world. He tried all of the animals, to find out which was a dangerous and which a not dangerous animal. He called them all up to him, and asked them what they would do when human beings came in the world. They replied that they would run away. He asked the bear what he would do. The bear looked over his shoulder and walked off. “That will do,” said Glooscap. The squirrel was then very big. Glooscap asked him what he would do, whereat he ran at a stump furiously and tore it to pieces with his teeth. Glooscap then reduced him to his present size. A female otter married a spruce partridge. They had a son. He wanted to find his father. His mother told him to go into the woods and listen; when he heard something like slow beating, that was not his father, but when he heard quick beating, that was him. He found him and stayed with him for a long time. Beaver, she married some dry land animal, red-headed woodcock. One day they got quarrelling and beaver left woodcock and swam away. Beaver built a dam at the place where the Falls of the St. John are. Glooscap came there one day, saw the dam, watched till he saw the beaver, which was of enormous size. The beaver house was in Kennebecasis Bay. He thought the Beavers would do harm someday, so he broke the dam down. Split Rock at the Falls was his handspike. All the Kennebecasis Bay and Long Reach was the pond. He killed the two young ones and old ones. After killing these, he looked for another. When he saw one young one heading up river, he then took two rocks to throw above him to frighten him back. These are what are now called Tobique Rocks. He was frightened back and he killed him. Below Boar’s Head you see, in the cliffs, a man’s head with curly hair. That was Glooscap’s mark, after he first came out to the St. John River to notice the beaver dam. It is on the left-hand side going down, about half a mile below Boar’s Head. Glooscap killed a great moose below Machias. You can see all the entrails of the moose in the rock. There is another place between Manawagonish Island and Musquash. He there left his sack and went off. When he got back he found a sable gnawing at it. You can now see his pack with the little hole the sable made in it. I have seen this on the cliff. We often, when I was a boy, used to go down to Lepreau for cranberries. When we passed Glooscap’s face, we used to throw figs of tobacco in the water, in order that we might have a calm time. We had great faith in this. Glooscap had a large camp, as large as the city all about him. The wild goose was his watcher. The loon and the wolf were his dogs. He had all the animals, even the toad. He made them all believe they were human beings.

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The eagle married the caribou and had a son and a daughter. The turtle was Glooscap’s uncle. Glooscap always told the turtle what he was going to do. Then the turtle would tell the other animals at the Council House. The turtle married one of the eagle and caribou’s daughters. He had children. The turtle would always do what Glooscap told him. One day he told his uncle, after he was married, that he was going to have a feast for the whole camp. Turtle asked what was to be done; Glooscap said he was old enough to know. “Go down to the nearest long point and watch; the first whale which comes to the point, seize him and bring it up. Leave it opposite your father-in-law’s door.” Turtle went down and caught the first whale and put it on his shoulder and got up opposite his father-in-law’s door. He thought he would go a little farther, thinking that it was in his power to do so. But when he started on, the whale pressed him down so that he could not move. The animals then notified Glooscap. He answered them, “There is no harm done. He will come out all right.” Then all the rest cut up the whale, chiefly that part which was over the turtle. They got him out. Then he began to stretch his legs, complaining that he was sleepy and tired. The turtle now thought he was so powerful that he could do anything. He began then holding council independent of Glooscap. They held council day after day to kill Glooscap, so that the turtle might have supreme command. All the other animals joined the council, from the biggest animal down to the toad. One day Glooscap turned himself into an old squaw. He got in at the door at one side. There was an old squaw in the shape of a porcupine; on the opposite side another old squaw in the shape of a toad. When he got in he asked the porcupine what was the council. The porcupine said to Glooscap it was not worthwhile for him to know what the council was about, so he put out his two fingers and seized the porcupine’s nose. He then, in a rage, passed over to the toad and asked the same question. He answered the same. He took him by the nose and went out. After he went out the porcupine looked over at the toad and asked her, “Where is your nose?” The toad looked at the porcupine then, and said, “Where is yours?” They concluded from that that Glooscap must have been in. After they got through with the council, the turtle ground his big knife and went to Glooscap and said to him, “Nephew, I want to sleep at your house once more, the same as I did when you were a boy.” Glooscap said, “That is all right, uncle.” So they went to bed. After he found his uncle was asleep he got up, and Turtle stabbed part of himself, thinking it was Glooscap, calling out, “I have killed Glooscap.”

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The Northeast | Gluska’be Steals Summer for the People, Escapes from the Crows, and Overcomes Winter

He, who had slipped to one side, called out, “Let me have a cut at him!” And so he ripped up the turtle with his knife. After this, Glooscap told turtle he must go and get some rum. He did so. When they all got quarrelling and fighting, the turtle would fight all the rest. One animal told Glooscap, “The turtle will kill us all.” Glooscap said, “Help yourselves! When he gets troublesome give him a kick in his breast with your knee, that will stop him.” They did so, and stunned him. Then Glooscap called them all up and sent them back to their own life as men and women. The wolf, his dog, went away howling, sorry to leave; the loon the same. The turtle came to life; could not see anyone anywhere. He got up and said, “I will go to my natural life,” and so took the water, and that was the end of him. Glooscap had a brother. He was wicked. Glooscap and his brother were smart when they were born. They dug their way out of their mother’s side, who died. The youngest brother thought that he could kill Glooscap, his older brother, and would do so if he could. One day they were talking. The younger brother asked Glooscap what would kill him. Glooscap thought he would not tell him what would kill him, but told him something which would stun him. So he told him the down of feathers. Glooscap asked his younger brother what would kill him. To this the younger brother answered truly, “the bulrush.” The younger brother gathered a large handful of down. At the first opportunity he hit his brother with these and knocked him down. Glooscap was only stunned for two days and two nights. He then came to himself and gathered some bulrushes. He had a large handful in his hand, of the tops of the bulrush. With these he struck his brother, when not aware, and killed him. Glooscap was afraid if he did not kill him he would own the whole land.

GLUSKA’BE STEALS SUMMER FOR THE PEOPLE, ESCAPES FROM THE CROWS, AND OVERCOMES WINTER Tradition Bearer: Newell Lion Source: Speck, Frank G. “Penobscot Transformer Tales.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1918): 214–15. Date: ca. 1910

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Original Source: Penobscot National Origin: Native American

Residing in northern New England and relying on agriculture for a substantial portion of their subsistence, the Penobscot had good reason to fear the rigors of winter. Gluska’be (the Penobscot form of Glooscap) uses his trickster’s repertoire of wit, deceit, shape-shifting, and magic to retrieve Summer and overcome Winter in the persona of “the old iceman.” As in previous myths, Gluska’be (Glooscap) moves through a surreal and often alogical cosmos.

T

hen Gluska’be went on to where they were dancing. He saw the living people in groups talking low. He edged up, and asked, “What is going on next?” Then one answered, “Tcestcil [an insulting exclamation accompanied by a pointed finger] why should the likes of you be allowed to know what is going on?” Gluska’be said, “You yourself tcestcil!” and he twisted the person’s nose off with his fingers. Then he entered where they were dancing round about a big bark dish which contained Summer like a kind of jelly. Two handsome girls were there dancing. Gluska’be spoke to them, but they did not answer. They made fun of him. Because of this he stroked them on the back as they were dancing around. After circling once, their appearance began to change; before they made another turn, they could not dance. The people looking on them saw two toads sitting there. They threw them out, because the girls had turned into toads. They wondered, as they still kept on dancing, why the girls had become toads, guarding the Summer (jelly) so that no one could touch it. Then Gluska’be wished for darkness in the wigwam. Then he grabbed the Summer in the dark, and started to run away with it. The others, dancing, heard the Summer groaning. Examining it, there were finger-marks where it had been picked out. They cried out, “Somebody has snatched away Summer. That stranger has done this.” Then they leaped up and went in pursuit of Gluska’be. Soon he heard them coming in the shape of big crows. He tied his rawhide ball on his head. Then

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The Northeast | Black Cat and the Sable

one of the big crows grabbed him on the head. The crow grabbed the ball of rawhide and flew back, thinking he had Gluska’be’s head. Then he saw the end of the rawhide as he unrolled it flying along. He started again in pursuit, and again grabbed another ball, thinking it was the head. Then again only rawhide he held by the end. Then he gave it up. Gluska’be kept on until he saw snow. Soon he reached the snow. The crows chasing him turned back when they saw the snow. Gluska’be took his snowshoes from the tree, put them on, and looked for his eye. He could not find it. “Where is my eye?” he asked the Chickadee. “A big horned-owl carried it off,” answered the Chickadee. Then Gluska’be called the Owl, and it came flying, and he pulled out the Owl’s eye and put it in his own head. Then he left, going to where it was still colder. Then he came to where the ice-house was. He entered, and the old ice-man saw Summer and said, “Kwe [exclamation signifying amazement], grandson!” Gluska’be mocked him in return. Then Gluska’be took the Summer, and set it down in front of the ice-man. He began at once to sweat, saying, “Grandson, I am very hot. You better go away.” Gluska’be mimicked him, but sat still. Then the old man begged him, “Grandson, go away, you are almost killing me.” Gluska’be again mimicked him. Then the ice-man’s nose melted off, then his legs, and finally he melted away. Then Gluska’be left, and the ice-house melted away too.

BLACK CAT AND THE SABLE Tradition Bearer: Peter Selmore Source: Fewkes, J. Walter. “A Contribution to Passamoquoddy Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 266–70. Date: 1890 Original Source: Passamoquoddy National Origin: Native American

The trickster figure Black Cat is virtually indistinguishable from Glooscap. By some accounts, they are one and the same. The revenge

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enacted on Pookjinsquess by Black Cat—compelling gulls to fly over and defecate on her—is worthy of Glooscap at his most mischievous. If Black Cat, in fact, is merely another incarnation of Glooscap, Beaver’s ill will in this story is understandable in the light of Glooscap’s murder of the beavers detailed in “Glooscap” (p. 12). In any case, the following narrative is best understood as a variant of the Glooscap trickster cycle of the Abenaki and their relations.

C

ooloo, the great bird that overspreads all with his wings, was a chief. His wife was named Pookjinsquess. The Sable and the Black Cat went in a stone canoe to a place where they make maple sugar. In this journey they were lost, and separated from each other. Sable in his wanderings came to a peculiarly shaped wigwam. He went in and found within a large Snake. The Snake said he was glad the Sable had come, as he was very hungry. The Snake told him to go into the woods and get a straight stick, so that when he pierced him he would not tear open his entrails. Sable then went out and sang in a loud voice a song which he hoped his brother the Black Cat would hear and come to his aid. The Black Cat heard him and came to him. Then the Sable told the Black Cat the trouble he was in, and how the Snake was going to kill him. The Black Cat told Sable not to be afraid, but that he would kill the big Snake. He told him that he would lie down behind the trunk of a hemlock tree which had fallen, and that Sable should search out a stick that was very crooked, disobeying the commands of the big Snake. When he had found a stick, he should carry it to the Snake, who would complain that the stick was not straight enough. The Black Cat instructed Sable to reply that he would straighten it in the fire, holding it there until the steam came out of the end. While the Snake was watching the process of straightening the stick and the exit of the steam, Black Cat told Sable that he should strike the Snake over the head. The Sable sought out the most crooked stick he could find, and then returned to the wigwam where the Snake was. The Snake said the stick was too crooked. The Sable replied, “I can straighten it,” and held it in the fire. When it was hot he struck the Snake on the head and blinded him. The Snake then followed the Sable, and, as he passed over the hemlock trunk, Black Cat killed him, and they cut him in small fragments. Black Cat and Sable called all the animals and birds to the feast; the caribous, wild horses, and

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The Northeast | Black Cat and the Sable

swift animals and birds were first to arrive at the feast. The Turtle was the last, and got only the blood. Then the Black Cat and Sable returned home to Cooloo, whose wife was Pookjinsquess. She thought she would like to have for her husband Black Cat if she could get rid of Cooloo. But Black Cat offended Pookjinsquess and made her angry. To do away with him she invited him to go with her for gulls’ eggs. She took him across the water in a canoe to an island which was very distant. There they filled baskets with eggs and started home in the canoe. A large, very beautiful bird flew over them. They both shot their arrows at it. The bird fell, and Black Cat jumped into the water to get what they had shot. When he got to where the bird fell he could not find it. Pookjinsquess went off, singing as she went and left Black Cat on the island. I have left the Black Cat on an island; I shall be the chief of the Fishers now. Black Cat wandered about the island, until at last he found a wigwam of the grandfather, the “Morning Star,” who told him he was on a very dangerous island. He told him it was the habit of the Great Beaver to destroy everyone who came to the island. He told the Black Cat to climb a tree, and when he needed help to call out for him. Night was coming on, water began to rise about the base of the tree, and the Giant Beaver came and began to gnaw at its base. The friendly ants tried to keep the tree upright, but the water continued to rise and the Beaver kept on gnawing. Then the Black Cat in his sore dilemma called out, “Grandpa, come!” The grandfather responded, “I am coming; wait till I get my moccasins.” The water rose higher. Again Black Cat called out, “Come, grandpa, come!” “I am coming,” his grandfather said, “wait till I get my cap.” Again Black Cat called, “Hurry, grandpa.” “Wait until I get my pipe,” said the grandparent. But the waters had reached him. The tree swayed to and fro. “Come, grandpa, come!” said Black Cat for the last time. Then he said, “I am coming; wait till I open my door,” and then he opened the door of his wigwam and the Morning Star came forth, the water began to recede, and the Beaver swam away. Then Black Cat’s grandfather told him to come down, and he would send him over the water to the other shore on the back of the Wewillemuck (snail). Black Cat thought that Wewillemuck was too small to carry him over, but his

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grandfather told him to seat himself between his horns, and when he wished Wewillemuck to go faster he should tap him on the horns. The grandfather then gave his grandson a small bow and arrows, and put him on the snail’s back between his horns. As they were crossing the channel, Wewillemuck said to the Black Cat, “When we get near shore tell me.” But Black Cat gave Wewillemuck a sharp rap on the horns, and the snail jumped forward and went so far that both went a far distance inland. Wewillemuck said, “Why did you not tell me we were near the land? Now I cannot get back to the water again.” But Black Cat took his small bow and arrows, and with them carried Wewillemuck back to the water. So pleased was the snail that he said, “Scrape from my horns some fine dust, and, whatever you wish, put this powder upon it and it is yours.” So Black Cat scraped off some powder from the horns of Wewillemuck. Black Cat went to see the chief, and killed him with the powder. Black Cat went to see Pookjinsquess; he scattered a ring of powder around her wigwam, and then set it on fire. It blazed up and ignited the wigwam, burning up the old woman Pookjinsquess, whose ashes, blown about by the winds, made the mosquitoes.

GRANDMOTHER O-NE-HA-TAH, MOTHER OO-KWA-E, AND THE LOST BOY Tradition Bearer: Albert Cusick Source: Beauchamp, W. M. “Onondaga Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 173–78. Date: 1893 Original Source: Onondaga National Origin: Native American

This tale is from the Onondaga whose ancestral home is in New York and who were one of the original nations of the Iroquois League. The narrative shares the qualities of folktale by virtue of taking place in a

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The Northeast | Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah, Mother Oo-kwa-e, and the Lost Boy

universe that has already formed, unlike the world of myth. On the other hand, the narrator’s final comment seems to situate the events in the very recent past, giving it at least some elements of legend. The obvious irony of the plot is that an animal, especially the porcupine, which in the traditions of this culture area is rarely regarded as benevolent, should be kinder than the boy’s peers. It is significant that the other animals in the tale are among the clan totems of the traditional Onondaga. Bear, in many Native American traditions, is regarded as the most anthropomorphic of the animals. Some mythologies, in fact, maintain that bears were once human. This makes Oo-kwa-e the logical guardian for the lost boy. Inevitably, however, the tale seems to argue that the established boundaries (in this case, the dividing line between human and nonhuman) cannot be violated.

A

long time ago, among the Onondaga Indians, were several families who went off to camp near the wildwood streams, where fish, deer, bear, otter, beaver, and other like game could be caught for winter use. These Onondagas, or People of the Hill, journeyed several days, and finally came to the hunting-grounds. The hunting-ground where they stopped was a very beautiful place, with its little hills and the river with high banks. Not far from their camp was a beautiful lake, with high rocky banks, and with little islands full of cedar-trees. When they came there it was in the moon or month of Clzut-ho-wa-ah, or October. Some of these Indians made their camps near the river, and some near the lake. As it was quite early in the season for hunting, some of the Indians amused themselves by making birch-bark canoes. With these they could go up and down the river and on the lakes, fishing and trapping, or making deadfalls for smaller game. In the party were five little boys, who had their own bows and arrows, and would go hunting, imitating their fathers and uncles. Among them was one much smaller than the rest, who was greatly teased by the older boys. Sometimes they would run away from him and hide themselves in the woods, leaving him crying; then they would come back and show themselves, and have a great laugh over the little boy’s distress. Sometimes they would run for the camp, and would tell him that a bear or a wolf was chasing them, leaving the little boy far behind, crying with all his might. Many a time he sought his father’s camp alone, when the other boys would leave him and hide themselves in the woods.

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One day these little Indians found a great hollow log lying on the ground. One of them said, “Maybe there is a Ta-hone-tah-na-ken [rabbit] or a Hi-sen [red squirrel] in this hollow log. Let us shoot into it, and see if there is any Tahone-tah-na-ken in it.” All agreed to this, and they began to take the little boy’s arrows from him and shoot them into the hole; then the larger boys said to him, “Now go into the hollow log, and get your arrows.” The little boy said, “No; I am afraid something might catch me.” Then he began to cry, and was not at all willing to go into the log. The others coaxed him to do so, and one said he would get his uncle to make him a new bow and arrows if he would go into the hollow log, and get the arrows they had shot there. At last this tempted the little boy. He stopped crying, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled into the log. When he had gone in a little way, he found one of his arrows, and handed it out. This gave him courage to go in a little farther. When he had advanced some distance in the log, one of the larger boys said, “Let’s stop up the log, and trap that boy in it, so that he can’t get out.” This was soon agreed to, and the boys began to fetch old rotten wood and old limbs, stopping up the hollow, and trapping the little boy in it. When this mischief was done, the four boys ran to their camp, not saying a word about the little boy who was trapped in the log. It was two days before the mother and father began to notice the absence of their boy, for they thought he must have stayed overnight with one of the others, as very often he had done, but the second day a search was begun, and the other four boys were asked whereabouts they had left him. They all said that they did not know, and that the last time they were out the little boy did not go with them. Then the entire camp turned out to join in the search, as now they knew that the boy must be lost. After they had hunted a long time he could not be found, and they ceased to look for him; they thought he must have been killed and eaten by a wolf or a bear. When he was first shut up in the log the little boy tried to get out, but could not do it, as the chunks of rotten wood were too large for him to move. He could not kick or push them out. Then he cried for help, but no one came. There he was for three days and three nights, crying loudly for help, and now and then falling asleep. But on the fourth night, while he was in the hollow log, he thought he heard someone coming. He listened, and was sure he heard the crying of a very old woman and the noise of the tramping of human feet. The crying and the tramping came nearer and nearer to the log where he was. At last the crying

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came very close to him, and then he heard a noise, as though someone sat down on the log. Now he heard the old woman cry in earnest, and now and then she would say: “Oh, how tired I am! How tired I am! And yet I may have come too late, for I do not hear my grandchild cry. He may be dead! He may be dead!” Then the old woman would cry in earnest again. At last he heard a rap on the log and his own name called: “Ha-yah-noo! Ha-yah-noo! Are you still alive?” Ha-yah-noo, or Footprints under the Water (for this was the name of the little lost boy), answered the old woman, and said that he still lived. The old woman said, “Oh, how glad I am to find my grandchild still alive!” Then she asked Ha-yah-noo if he could not get out, but he said he could not, for he had already tried. Then said the old woman, “I will try to get you out of this log.” He heard her pull at the chunks of old wood, but at last she said she could not get him out, as she was too old and tired. She had heard him crying three days before, and had journeyed three days and nights to come and help her grandchild out of his trouble. Now this old woman was an O-ne-ha-tah, or Porcupine. She lived in an old hemlock tree near the spot where the boy was shut up in the log. When Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah had said that she had to journey three days and nights, and now she could not help Ha-yah-noo out of the log, she was very sorry, and began to cry again. Finally she said that she had three children, who were very strong, and that she would get them to help her; so she went after them. It was almost daylight when they came, and then Ha-yah-noo heard them pull out the chunks which stopped up the log. At last Grandmother O-ne-hatah said to Ha-yah-noo: “Come out now. My children have got the chunks out of the log. You can come out.” When Ha-yah-noo came out, he saw four wild animals around him. There was Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah and her three children, as she called them. They were Oo-kwa-e, the Bear; Sken-no-doh, the Deer; and Tah-you-ne, the Wolf. “Now,” said O-ne-ha-tah, “I want one of you to take care of this boy, and love him as your own child. You all know that I have got to be very, very old. If I were younger I would take care of him myself.” Tah-you-ne, the Wolf, was the first one to speak. She said she could take care of the boy, as she lived on the same meat on which he fed. “No,” said Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah, “you are too greedy. You would eat up the boy as soon as he is left with you alone.” The Wolf was very angry. She

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showed her teeth, and snapped them at the boy, who was very much afraid, and wanted no such mother. The next that spoke was Sken-no-doh, the Deer. She said that she and her husband would take care of the boy, as they lived on corn and other things which they knew the boy liked. Her husband would carry him on his back wherever they went. But Grandmother O-ne-ha-tah said: “No, you can’t take care of the boy, for you are always traveling, and never stay in one place. The boy cannot do the traveling that you do, for you run very fast and make very long journeys. The boy cannot stand it, and you have no home for him for the winter. Boys like this have homes.” Then the Deer ran away, very happy, as though she were glad to be rid of the boy. Then Oo-kwa-e, the Bear, said that she knew she could take care of the boy, as she lived in a large stone house and had plenty to eat. She lived on meats and fishes, and all kinds of nuts and berries, and even wild honey, all of which the boy would like. She had a good warm bed for him to sleep on through the winter, and she was a loving mother to her children. She would rather die than see them abused. Then O-ne-ha-tah said: “You are just the right one to take care of this boy. Take him and carry him home.” So the Bear, like a loving mother, took the boy and brought him to her home. When they got there, Oo-kwa-e said to her two children, the Oo-tutch-ha, or Young Bears, “Don’t play with him roughly, and he will be your kind little brother.” Then she gave him some berries to eat, and they were all happy together. The stone house was a cave in the rocks, but to the little boy it seemed to have rooms like any other house, and the little bears seemed to him like human children. They did not tease him, but lived in the most friendly way, and the old Oo-kwa-e was a very kind mother to the boy. It was now quite late in the fall, and the days became short and dark. Then Mother Oo-kwa-e said: “It is late and dark now. We had better go to bed.” The nights were cold, but the bed was warm, and they slept until the spring. One evening it thundered; for the bears do not wake up until the thunder is heard. It made such a noise that they thought the walls were coming down. Then the old Oo-kwa-e said: “Why, it’s getting light. We had better get up.” So they lived happily together for a very long time. She went out in the woods, going to and fro for food, and the children amused themselves at home. Every now and then, through the summer, the Bear people would come in and say, “In such a place are plenty of berries.” These would be strawberries, raspberries, or others, according to the season. Later they told of chestnuts and

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other kinds of nuts, of which they were fond. Then they would say, “Let us go and gather them.” So the Mother Bear and the little Bears went, taking the little boy along with them; for they always expected a good time. The other bears knew nothing about the little boy. When they came near the spot, and he was seen, these would be frightened, and say: “There is a human being! Let us run! Let us run!” So they would scamper off as fast as bears can, leaving their heaps of nuts or berries behind them. Then the old Oo-kwa-e would gather these up, she and her children, and take them home, which was a very easy way of getting plenty of food. Thus the boy became very useful to Mother Bear. The boy lived with them thus for about three years, and the same things happened every year. In the third year Mother Bear said, “Someone is coming to kill us.” Then all looked out, and saw a man coming through the woods, with his bow and arrows in his hand, and his dog running all around looking for game. Then Mother Bear said, “I must see what I can do.” So she took a forked stick, and pointed the open fork towards the man. It seemed to come near him, and appeared to him like a line of thick brush that he did not wish to break through. So he turned aside, and went another way, and they were safe that time. Another day she again said, “Someone is coming towards us again, and we shall be killed.” She put forth the forked stick again; but the man did not mind it, and came straight towards her stone house. The stick itself split, and there was nothing in the way. Then she took a bag of feathers and threw these outside. They flew up and down, and around and around, and seemed like a flock of partridges. The dog ran after them, through the bushes and trees, supposing them to be birds, and so the second man went away. The days went by, and the third time Mother Bear saw a man coming. This time she said, “Now we certainly are all going to die.” Then she said to the boy: “Your father is coming now, and he is too good a hunter to be fooled. There is his dog, with his four eyes, and he, too, is one of the best of hunters.” Now when a dog has light spots over each eye, the Indians say that he has four eyes. So the man came nearer, and she tried the forked stick, but it split; and still the man and dog came on. Then she scattered the feathers, and they flew around as before; but the hunter and dog paid no attention to them, and still they both came on. At last the dog reached the door and barked, and the man drew his bow to shoot at anything that came out. When the Mother Oo-kwa-e saw the man standing there, she said, “Now, children, we must all take our bundles and go.” So each of the Bears took a small bundle and laid it on its back, but there was no bundle at all for the boy. When all were ready, Mother Oo-kwa-e said, “I will go first, whatever may

25


happen.” So she opened the door, and as she went out the man shot, and she was killed. Then the oldest of the Oo-tutch-ha said, “I will go next;” and as he went he also was killed. The last little Bear was afraid, and said to the boy, “You go first.” But the little boy was afraid, too, and said: “No; you go first. I have no bundle.” For all the Bears tried to get their bundles between them and the man. So the little Bear and the boy at last went out together; but though the Bear tried to keep behind, the man shot at him first, and he was killed. As the hunter was about to shoot again, the boy called out: “Don’t shoot me! Don’t shoot me! I am not a bear!” His father dropped his arrow, for he knew his voice at once, and said: “Why did you not call out before? Then I would not have killed the Oo-kwa-e and Oo-tutch-ha. I am very sorry for what I have done, for the Bears have been good to you.” But the boy said: “You did not kill the Bears, though you thought so. You only shot the bundles. I saw them thrown down, and the spirits of the Bears run off from behind them.” Still, the man was sorry he had shot at the Bears, for he wished to be kind to them, as they had been to his boy. Then the father began to look at his boy more closely, to see how he had grown and how he had changed. Then he saw that long hairs were growing between his fingers, for, living so long with them, he had already begun to turn into a Bear. He was very glad when he took the boy back to his home, and his friends and relatives, and the whole town, rejoiced with him. All day they had a great feast, and all night they danced, and they were still dancing when I came away.

HOW MONEY COVE GOT ITS NAME Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Suplee, Laura M. “The Legend of Money Cove.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 272–73. Date: 1918 Original Source: Maine National Origin: Anglo American

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The Northeast | How Money Cove Got Its Name

The Captain Kidd to whom this legend alludes was William Kidd (1654–1701), a resident of the British colonies who began his career on the sea as a privateer licensed by Richard Coote, Earl of Bellomont, who served as Governor of New York, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire in 1695. Kidd was to attack pirates operating in the area and any enemy French ships he encountered. Kidd turned pirate, however, and attacked any non-English vessels that crossed his bow. Ultimately, he was arrested, charged with piracy and murder, sent to England for trial, and hanged in 1701. Over the years, speculation concerning what had become of Kidd’s spoils grew into local legends. The belief that Kidd left a buried treasure somewhere contributed considerably to the growth of his legend. This belief made its contribution to literature in such works as Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Gold Bug” and Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. The ghostly guardian motif that sets events in this narrative in motion is widely distributed.

A

widow who lived on the island of Campobello had a peculiar dream one night. A headless Negro appeared to her, and said, “In a certain spot on Grand Manan there lies, in a hogshead, the buried treasure of Captain Kidd. I was killed by Captain Kidd’s pirates that I might guard the buried treasure. I am weary of my task. I wish to tell you where this treasure is, and then rest in peace. I will show you the place.” Then there appeared to her the exact picture of the rocky slope, on the island of Grand Manan, which is now called Money Cove. Campobello and Grand Manan are sister islands in the Bay of Fundy. Although the dream was vivid, she dismissed it from her mind. On the next night, however, the Negro boy appeared again. This time he said, “Because you may doubt me, I shall prove to you that the things I am saying to you are true. Your husband once lost a chisel. You can find it twenty yards from the house in the brook. Take this chisel with you, and go to the place on Grand Manan which I showed you last night in a vision. You must go alone at midnight up the mountain and through the woods. You will hear strange noises of conflict. Do not turn back, but keep steadily on. Nothing will harm you. Presently you will see the top of a hogshead that is by this time at the surface of the earth. Throw

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the chisel on its top, and the enchantment will be broken. You may then have anyone to assist you.” As the widow found the chisel in the brook, she was encouraged to proceed further. She hired two fishermen to row her in their dory to Grand Manan. They skirted its shores until she recognized the part that was seen in her vision. It was most solitary. The waves were beating on the rocky shore, and the trees grew thick and high up the steep incline. An eagle soared between the tree-tops and the blue sky. They waited until midnight. Then the men were left on the beach, and the timid widow began the ascent alone. She heard strange noises, muffled sounds, and the clash of steel in conflict. Although very fearful, she trudged upwards. Ahead of her she saw the top of a hogshead. On it sat the headless Negro boy. She was about to throw the chisel on the hogshead and break the enchantment, when a mighty wind swept through the forest and bent the trees nearly double. The wind twisted the trees and whirled their branches about until the woods moaned with the agony of it, and lent their mournful wails to the sounds of the unseen but fiercely raging battle. At this point two Spaniards with drawn swords appeared. They were engaged in a deadly duel between her and the treasure. She became so terrified that she dropped her chisel, and screamed loudly for help. The enchantment was broken all too soon. The treasured hogshead and fighting Spaniards disappeared. The trees still swayed, but not so violently as they had a few minutes before. The trembling widow stood waiting. The fishermen, hearing her screams, went hurriedly up to her assistance. They found her almost insane. Although many have since gone to that lonely spot in search of the hidden treasure, none have found it. But always in that forest, when anyone ascends the slope, the winds bend and twist the trees as in a fierce gale. Since the adventure of the widow in search of Captain Kidd’s treasure, that particular stretch of rocky beach and steep incline of forest is known all over the island as Money Cove.

THE MOHAWKS ON THE WAR-PATH Tradition Bearer: Gabe Source: Jack, Edward. “Maliseet Legends.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 201–4. Date: 1895

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The Northeast | The Mohawks on the War-Path

Original Source: Maliseet National Origin: Native American

As noted in the introduction to “Glooscap” (p. 12), the Maliseet (Malecite) and the Abenakis were closely related Algonquin cultures. The Mohawks, one of the Five Nations of the Iroquois League, posed a constant threat to the Maliseet and other Abenakis from the south. Warfare with the Mohawk has been widely documented throughout the seventeenth century, and the complete record of hostilities is undoubtedly much longer. The two legends presented here provide details of this conflict from the Algonquin perspective. The inclusion of precise place names in the legends serves as a validating device designed to encourage the acceptance of the account, in which they are included as factual.

L

ong before the white men took our country from us, said Gabe, our worst enemies were the Mohawks. War parties of these Indians used to portage from the St. Lawrence to the head of the St. John, which they descended until they reached our settlements. They attacked our villages in the darkest nights, when there was no moon, burnt our camps, and tomahawked our women and children. Many, many moons ago, one of our braves went out in his canoe and paddled up the river until he came to the mouth of the Amwehnec. (This you white faces call Muniac.) He was going to spear some fish, and was paddling along, when he thought he could see in the early morning a smoke arising from the river’s bank, near where the stream empties into the main river. Pushing his canoe ashore, he carried it into the woods, where he hid it behind a fallen pine, and then went through the forest until he came nearly opposite the mouth of the Muniac. On arriving there, he saw, through a thick clump of wild cherry (trees behind which he remained concealed), a party of five hundred or six hundred Mohawks. They were even then making their breakfast off the bodies of several dogs, whose grinning skulls were lying on the shore, their white teeth glistening in the morning sun. He had seen enough! So starting back cautiously as a fox and silently as the night to where his canoe lay hid, he carried it hastily to the shore, and in

29


less than five minutes was paddling for dear life for Aughpack, the head of the tide, as the Indian village at Savage Island, near the mouth of the Keswick, was then called. The day was just breaking as he glided past the Mactaquac and shot downstream to the village, whose barking dogs gave notice of his arrival. He was scarcely able to lift his canoe ashore, and on entering the first hut, where a young squaw was broiling some salmon’s roes on the coals for her mother’s breakfast, he was stunned to hear that all the warriors except five had left the village and were at Passamaquoddy, pollock fishing. There was no time to send for them, and if anything was to be done to save the lives of the women and children who had now gathered around him, and were shrieking and sobbing bitterly at the terrible news which he related to them, it must be done at once. Sitting down on the green grass beside the mighty river, he addressed the five warriors as follows: “Brothers, the savage Mohawks thirst for our blood; they have had their war-feast. I have seen the heads of the dogs which they have eaten. Would you die to save our women and children?” Each of the five, bowing his head, gave the Indian assent, “A-Ha. Let us be off, then, to meet the swift feet!” So with three canoes, two men in each, they ascended the river to the Muniac, hugging the opposite shore as they neared their enemies, who were still camped on the ground, where the warrior had first seen them. A great storm threatened over the woods; the saw-whet cried out through the pines; but there was no other breath, and just before dawn they lit a few fires in the woods so as to make it appear a party of Maliseet braves were camping opposite. After doing this, and as soon as day broke, they carried their canoes through the woods, across the bend in the river, and placed them in the river below, where the Mohawks could not find them. They then poled boldly up stream in full view of their enemies (being beyond the reach of arrows), deliberately landed, and again took their canoes on their shoulders and carried them across the point, put them in the water, poled them up again, in the face of the Mohawks, and thus the six men kept on describing a circle for three days, showing two or three canoes always passing in front of the Mohawks, who by this time had got very uneasy at all the warriors the Maliseets were getting, and concluded now they were numerous as the leaves of the trees. Holding a council, the Mohawks decided that they would have a pow-wow with the Maliseets, and an interpreter was sent in his canoe to the middle of the river, demanding a parley with them. The six who were lying in the woods, on

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The Northeast | The Mohawks on the War-Path

hearing the request for a parley, shoved in their canoes until they came within a short distance of the Mohawk canoe. An agreement was made that six of the Maliseets should come over and arrange the preliminaries of a lasting peace between the two nations. So, early the next morning, the six warriors, painting themselves with the red earth which is found in the neighborhood, and ornamenting their heads with eagle’s feathers, calmly paddled to the Mohawk encampment. Here, after representing themselves as the deputies of a Maliseet host of one thousand braves, they indignantly told the Mohawks if they did not leave their river at once, this force would cross over and take every scalp-lock in the band. After a good deal of angry talk, an aged Mohawk, who had seen the snows of ninety winters, arose and said, “Brethren, warriors, my sun is nearly set. I look for rest and peace. I would, in quiet, seek the happy hunting-grounds of our fathers. Grant me this favor, bury the hatchet, and I die content.” Rising as one man they all replied, “We will, we will; let peace be made.” So, descending to the mouth of the Muniac, all of the Mohawk warriors and the six delegates from the imaginary force on the opposite side of the St. John ranged themselves close to the stream, while one representative from the Mohawks and all from the Maliseets dug a deep hole in the bed of the stream, in which they buried a stone hatchet, covering it with one of the great boulders which the stream had brought down from the distant mountains. “There,” said Gabe, “it has remained ever since, undisturbed; and never since has a band of Mohawk warriors descended our river to trouble our people.” The Mohawks, Gabe said, more than once attempted the destruction of the Abenakis residing there (Old-Town, now Hart’s Island), and once in particular they would have been utterly destroyed but for the wise foresight of an aged squaw who was gifted with the spirit of prophecy. On a still summer evening, long before the pale faces had invaded our country, said he, this woman, with wild eyes and long, flowing gray hair, rushed into the centre of the encampment, calling out in low tones, “There is trouble! There is trouble!” In a short time she was surrounded by braves, who asked what she meant. “You see We-jo-sis (Currie’s Mountain) over there, do you not? Behind it is hidden a great party of Mohawks, and they are only waiting for the night to cover the earth, when they will attack you and kill you all, if you are not ready for them.” A great council was immediately called, and it was decided that action should be at once taken in the matter. In order to conceal their intentions from the Mohawks, they concluded to have a big dance.

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While this was going on, the braves slipped out one by one, leaving none but the old men and women to keep it up. Before separating they had determined on a particular sign by which they should know one another in the dark, as they might be crawling through the long grass or among the thick bushes, which surrounded the island, and he who could not answer this sign was to be dispatched immediately and his gory head thrown in among the dancers. The Mohawks, meanwhile, had, as evening advanced, slowly and stealthily approached the Abenakis’ village; but will had been met by will, and before day dawned, many a Mohawk’s head had been thrown into the midst of the dancers, with the whispered command, “Dance harder! Dance harder!” until, exhausted and fainting, the dancers sank to the ground. By morning all of the Mohawk braves had been slain. The others, said Gabe, were as easily dispatched as you would cut a chicken’s head off or knock a lamb on the head. Some three or four, with ears and noses cut off, were allowed to return home in order to show the other Mohawks how they would be treated, should they attempt the like again.

GAŃAÁ’S ADVENTURES AMONG THE CHEROKEE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Pages 367–70 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. Date: 1883 Original Source: Seneca National Origin: Native American

The linking of athletic endeavors, dance, warfare, and spirituality in this legend is found not only in the Northeast, but throughout Native America and in a myriad of other warrior cultures globally. Dance and games (in this case what came to be called “lacrosse”) are used for training warrior attributes and for displaying these attributes both within one’s own group and to the enemy. For example, peace terms are accepted by the Cherokee after the Seneca (like the Mohawk, also members of the

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The Northeast | Gańaá’s Adventures among the Cherokee

Iroquois League) vigorously demonstrate their physical prowess through dance. On the other hand, the Seoqgwageono (possibly an indigenous name for either the Catawba or Tuscarora) decide to wage war on the Cherokee after defeating their representative in a foot race. Furthermore, warfare and athletic competition both are seen as activities that must be supported by supernatural power. Strengthening and purification rituals, taboos, and amulets all figure into the preparation for both. Often success at one of these enterprises is evidence of the spiritual superiority of oneself or one’s spiritual support system. It is probably in the light of such supernatural strength that the Seoqgwageono’s assertion of being a “double man” should be interpreted.

G

ańaá was a Seneca war chief. He called a council and said, “We must go to the Cherokee and see if we can’t agree to be friendly together and live in peace hereafter.” The people consented, and the chief said, “We must go to water first before we start.” So they went, a great party of warriors, far away into the deep forest by the river side. There were no women with them. For ten days they drank medicine every morning to make them vomit and washed and bathed in the river each day. Then the chief said, “Now we must get the eagle feathers.” They went to the top of a high hill and dug a trench there the length of a man’s body, and put a man into it, with boughs over the top so that he could not be seen, and above that they put the whole body of a deer. Then the people went off out of sight, and said the words to invite the Great Eagle that lives in the clouds, to come down. The man under the brushwood heard a noise, and a common eagle came and ate a little and flew away again. Soon it came back, ate a little more, and flew off in another direction. It told the other birds and they came, but the man seared them away, because he did not want common birds to eat the meat. After a while he heard a great noise coming through the air, and he knew it was the bird be wanted. The Great Eagle is very cautious, and looked around in every direction for some time before he began to eat the meat. As soon as he was eating the man put his hand up cautiously and caught hold of the bird’s tail and held on to it. The Great Eagle rose up and flew away, and the man had pulled out one feather. They had to trap a good many eagles in this way, and it was two years before they could get enough feathers to make a full tail, and were ready to start for the Cherokee country.

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They were many days on the road, and when they got to the first Cherokee town they found there was a stockade around it so that no enemy could enter. They waited until the gate was open, and then two Seneca dancers went forward, carrying the eagle feathers and shouting the signal yell. When the Cherokee heard the noise they came out and saw the two men singing and dancing, and the chief said, “These men must have come upon some errand.” The Seneca messengers came up and said, “Call a council; we have come to talk on important business.” All turned and went toward the townhouse, the rest of the Seneca following the two who were dancing. The townhouse was crowded, and the Seneca sang and danced until they were tired before they stopped. The Cherokee did not dance. After the dance the Seneca chief said, “Now I will tell you why we have come so far through the forest to see you. We have thought among ourselves that it is time to stop fighting. Your people and ours are always on the lookout to kill each other, and we think it is time for this to stop. Here is a belt of wampum to show that I speak the truth. If your people are willing to be friendly, take it,” and he held up the belt. The Cherokee chief stepped forward and said, “I will hold it in my hand, and tomorrow we will tell you what we decide.” He then turned and said to the people, “Go home and bring food.” They went and brought so much food that it made a great pile across the house, and all of both tribes ate together, but could not finish it. Next day they ate together again, and when all were done the Cherokee chief said to the Seneca, “We have decided to be friendly and to bury our weapons, these knives and hatchets, so that no man may take them up again.” The Seneca chief replied, “We are glad you have accepted our offer, and now we have all thrown our weapons in a pile together, and the white wampum hangs between us, and the belt shall be as long as a man and hang down to the ground.” Then the Cherokee chief said to his people, “Now is the time for any of you that wishes to adopt a relative from among the Seneca to do so.” So some Cherokee women went and picked out one man and said, “You shall be our uncle,” and some more took another for their brother, and so on until only Gańaá, the chief, was left, but the Cherokee chief said, “No one must take Gańaá for a young man is here to claim him as his father.” Then the young man came up to Gańaá and said, “Father, I am glad to see you. Father, we will go home,” and he led Gańaá to his own mother’s house, the house where Gańaá had spent the first night. The young man was really his son, and when Gańaá came to the house he recognized the woman as his wife who had been carried off long ago by the Cherokee.

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The Northeast | Gańaá’s Adventures among the Cherokee

While they were there a messenger came from the Seoqgwageono tribe, that lived near the great salt water in the east, to challenge the Cherokee to a ball play. He was dressed in skins which were so long that they touched the ground. He said that his people were already on the way and would arrive in a certain number of days. They came on the appointed day and the next morning began to make the bets with the Cherokee. The Seneca were still there. The strangers bet two very heavy and costly robes, besides other things. They began to play, and the Cherokee lost the game. Then the Seneca said, “We will try this time.” Both sides bet heavily again, and the game began, but after a little running the Seneca carried the ball to their goal and made a point. Before long they made all the points and won the game. Then the bets were doubled, and the Seneca won again. When they won a third game also the Seoqgwageono said, “Let us try a race,” and the Seneca agreed. The course was level, and the open space was very wide. The Cherokee selected the Seneca runner, and it was agreed that they would run the first race without betting and then make their bets on the second race. They ran the first race, and when they reached the post the Seneca runner was just the measure of his body behind the other. His people asked him if he had done his best, but he said, “No; I have not,” so they made their bets, and the second race—the real race—began. When they got to the middle the Seneca runner said to the other, “Do your best now, for I am going to do mine,” and as he said it he pulled out and left the other far behind and won the race. Then the Seoqgwageono said, “There is one more race yet—the long race,” and they got ready for it, but the Cherokee chief said to his own men, “We have won everything from these people. I think it will be best to let them have one race, for if they lose all, they may make trouble.” They selected a Cherokee to run, and he was beaten, and the Seoqgwageono went home. In a few days they sent a messenger to challenge the Cherokee to meet them halfway for a battle. When the Cherokee heard this they said to the Seneca, “There are so few of you here that we don’t want to have you killed. It is better for you to go home.” So the Seneca went back to their own country. Three years later they came again to visit the Cherokee, who told them that the Seoqgwageono had won the battle, and that the chief of the enemy had said afterward, “I should like to fight the Seneca, for I am a double man.” Before long the enemy heard that the Seneca were there and sent them a challenge to come and fight. The Seneca said, “We must try to satisfy them,” so with Cherokee guides they set out for the country of the Seoqgwageono. They went on until they came to an opening in the woods within one day’s journey of the first village.

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Then they stopped and got ready to send two messengers to notify the enemy, but the Cherokee said, “You must send them so as to arrive about sundown.” They did this, and when the messengers arrived near the town they saw all the people out playing ball. The two Seneca went around on the other side, and began throwing sumac darts as they approached, so that the others would think they were some of their own men at play. In this way they got near enough to kill a man who was standing alone. They scalped him, and then raising the scalp yell they rushed off through the Woods, saying to each other as they ran, “Be strong—Be strong.” Soon they saw the Seoqgwageono coming on horses, but managed to reach a dry creek and to bide under the bank, so that the enemy passed on without seeing them. The next morning they came out and started on, but the enemy was still on the watch, and before long the two men saw the dust of the horses behind them. The others came up until they were almost upon them and began to shoot arrows at them, but by this time the two Seneca were near the opening where their own friends were hiding, drawn up on each side of the pass. As the pursuers dashed in the two lines of the Seneca closed in and every man of the Seoqgwageono was either killed or taken. The Seneca went back to the Cherokee country and after about a month they returned to their own homes. Afterward the Cherokee told them, “We hear the Seoqgwageono think you dangerous people. They themselves are conjurers and can tell what other people are going to do, but they cannot tell what the Seneca are going to do. The Seneca medicine is stronger.”

THE THUNDERERS Tradition Bearer: Joseph White (Mandarong) Source: Hale, Horatio. “Huron Folklore III: The Legend of the Thunderers.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 189–94. Date: 1874 Original Source: Huron National Origin: Native American

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The Northeast | The Thunderers

The following myth of a human encounter with the Thunder Beings gives a good overview of Huron mythology. The giant grub and porcupine confronted by the Thunderers were described by the tradition bearer as larger, supernatural forms of the usual members of the species who could become guardian spirits of particular humans who allied themselves with these spirit helpers. This “guardian spirit complex” is encountered frequently in Native North America. For a discussion of Huron culture, see the introduction to “The Making of the World.”

F

rom the earliest period the Wyandots (Wendats, Hurons) and the Cherokees have been at war. The war was carried on sometimes by large expeditions, sometimes by parties of two or three adventurers, who would penetrate into the enemy’s country, and return proud of having slain one man. On one occasion, in the ancient time, three Wyandot warriors set out on such an expedition. When they were far distant from their own land, one of them had the misfortune to break his leg. By the Indian law it became the duty of the others to convey their injured comrade back to his home. They formed a rude litter, and, laying him upon it, bore him for some distance. At length they came to a ridge of mountains. The way was hard, and the exertion severe. To rest themselves they placed their burden on the ground, and, withdrawing to a little distance, took evil counsel together. There was a deep hole or pit, opening in the side of the mountain, not far from the place where they were sitting. Returning and putting him in the litter, they took up their helpless comrade, carried him near the brink of the pit, and suddenly hurled him in. Then they set off rapidly for their own country. When they arrived they reported that he had died of wounds received in fight. Great was the grief of his mother, a widow, whose only son and support he had been. To soothe her feelings they told her that her son had not fallen into the enemy’s hands. They had rescued him, they said, from that fate, had carefully tended him in his last hours, and had given his remains a becoming burial. They little imagined that he was still alive. When he was thrown down by his treacherous comrades, he lay for a time insensible at the bottom of the pit. When he recovered his senses, he observed an old gray-headed man seated near him, crouching in a cavity on one side of the pit. “Ah, my son,” said the old man, “what have your friends done to you?”

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“They have thrown me here to die I suppose,” he replied, with true Indian stoicism. “You shall not die,” said the old man, “if you will promise to do what I require of you in return for saving you.” “What is that?” asked the youth. “Only that when you recover you will remain here and hunt for me, and bring me the game you kill.” The young warrior readily promised, and the old man applied herbs to his wound, and attended him skillfully until he recovered. This happened in the autumn. All through the winter the youth hunted for the old man, who told him that when any game was killed which was too large for one man to carry, he would come and help to convey it to the pit in which they continued to reside. When the spring arrived, bringing melting snows and frequent showers, the youth continued his pursuit of the game, though with more difficulty. One day he encountered an enormous bear, which he was lucky enough to kill. As he stooped to feel its fatness and judge of its weight, he heard a murmur of voices behind him. He had not imagined that any human beings would find their way to that lonely region at that time of the year. Astonished, he turned and saw three men, or figures resembling men, clad in strange, cloudlike garments, standing near him. “Who are you?” he asked. In reply, they informed him that they were the Thunder Beings. They told him that their mission was to keep the earth and everything upon it in good order for the benefit of the human race. If there was a drought, it was their duty to bring rain. If there were serpents or other noxious creatures, they were commissioned to destroy them; and, in short, they were to do away with everything that was injurious to mankind. They told him that their present object was to destroy the old man to whom he had bound himself, and who, as they would show him, was a very different sort of being from what he pretended to be. For this they required his aid. If he would assist them he would do a good act, and they would convey him back to his home, where he would see his mother and be able to take care of her. This warning and these assurances overcame any reluctance the young man might have felt to sacrifice his seeming friend. He went to him and told him that he had killed a bear, and needed his help to bring it home. The old man was anxious and uneasy. He bade the youth examine the sky carefully, and see if there were the smallest speck of cloud in any quarter. The young man replied that the sky was perfectly clear. The old man then came out of the hollow, and followed the young hunter, urging him constantly to make haste, and looking upward with great anxiety.

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The Northeast | The Thunderers

When they reached the bear, they cut it up hurriedly with their knives, and the old man directed the youth to place it all on his shoulders. The youth complied, though much astonished at his companion’s strength. The old man set off hastily for the pit, but just then a cloud appeared, and the thunder rumbled in the distance. The old man threw down his load, and started to run. The thunder sounded nearer, and the old man assumed his proper form of an enormous porcupine, which fled through the bushes, discharging its quills, like arrows, backward as it ran (as the Indians believe to be the habit of this animal). But the Thunderers followed him with burst upon burst, and finally a bolt struck the huge animal, which fell lifeless into its den. Then the Thunderers said to the young man, “Now we have done our work here, and will take you to your home and your mother, who is grieving for you all the time.” They gave him a dress like that which they wore, a cloudlike robe, having wings on the shoulders, and told him how these were to be moved. Then he rose in the air, and soon found himself in his mother’s cornfield. It was night. He went to her cabin, and drew aside the mat which covered the opening. The widow started up and gazed at him in the moonlight with terror, thinking that she saw her son’s apparition. He guessed her thoughts. “Do not be alarmed, mother,” he said, “it is no ghost. It is your son, come back to take care of you.” As may be supposed, the poor woman was overjoyed, and welcomed her long-lost son with delight. He remained with her, fulfilling his duties as a son. What was done to his treacherous comrades is not known. When the Thunderers bade farewell to the young man, they said to him, “We will leave the cloud-dress with you. Every spring, when we return, you can put it on, and fly with us, to be witness to what we do for the good of men.” They told him that the great deity, Hamendiju, had given them this authority and commission to watch over the people and see that no harm came to them. Accordingly the youth hid the dress in the woods, that no one might see it, and waited till the spring. Then the Thunderers returned, and he resumed the robe, and floated with them in the clouds over the earth. As they passed above a mountain he became thirsty, and, seeing below him a pool, he descended to drink of it. When he rejoined his companions, they looked at him and saw that the water with which his lips were moist had caused them to shine, as though smeared with oil. “Where have you been drinking?” they asked eagerly. “In yonder pool,” he answered, pointing to where it lay still in sight.

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They said, “There is something in that pool which we must destroy. We have sought it for years, and now you have happily found it for us.” Then they cast a mighty thunderbolt into the pool, which presently became dry. At the bottom of it, blasted by the thunder, was an immense grub, of the kind which destroys the corn and beans and other products of the field and garden, but this was a vast creature, “as big as a house,” the spiritual head, patron, and exemplar of all grubs. After accompanying his spirit friends for some distance, and seeing more of their good deeds of the like sort, the youth returned home and told his people that the Thunder Beings were their divine protectors, and narrated the proofs which he had witnessed of this benign character. Thence originated the honor in which the Thunder is held among the Indians. The Wyandots were accustomed to call Him their grandfather (tsutaa). I asked Mandarong how it was that the god had appeared as three men. He said that only three thunder spirits were required on this occasion, but there were many of them. When thunder is heard to roll from many parts of the heavens, it is because there are many of the Thunderers at work. They are all called Hino, who may (for the Wyandots rarely use the plural of nouns) be regarded as one god or many, the Thunderer or the Thunderers. He added that the young man learned from his divine friends the secret of rain-making, which he communicated to two persons in each tribe. They were bound to strict secrecy, and possessed, the chief affirmed, the undoubted art of making rain. He had often known them to accomplish this feat. He himself had become partly possessed of this secret, and had been able in former days to bring rain. Of late years, in obedience to the injunctions of the church, he had forborne to exert this power. I asked him if he had any objection to disclose the secret. His wife urged him to tell; but on consideration he said that he would rather not. He had received it in confidence; the church had forbidden the practice of the art; and he thought it best that the knowledge of it should perish. It was evident that he entertained the most entire faith in the power of this charm, whatever it might be.

THURSDAY OFF Tradition Bearer: Anca Vrbooska

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The Northeast | Thursday Off

Source: Swenson, May. “Interview of Anca Vrbooska.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/ wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: New York National Origin: Hungarian American

Beyond offering an image of Queen Maria Felicia as a benevolent sovereign, this legend embodies messages about the exercise of power in a stratified society. Without appropriate checks and balances, those at the lowest strata of society may be exploited by their immediate superiors. Appeals to the highest authorities succeed only when these appeals can be clearly communicated. Folklorists routinely note the correspondence between the plot of a narrative performance and the context in which it is performed. This tale concerning the exercise of power by the “haves” over the “have nots” and the latter’s rescue by a benevolent political leader was told by a Hungarian immigrant to a government fieldworker during the height of the Great Depression. These facts suggest significant resonance between the narrative and the performance context.

W

ould you like to hear about “Thursday”? This happened during the reign of good Queen Maria Felicia, who was ruler of Hungary when Slovakia was part of Hungary, about the year 1760. The peasants of a certain village, who were at that time servants and compelled to do a good deal of labor without money for the petty village nobility and the priests, and consequently had not enough time to till their own soil, decided to send a delegation up to the court of the Queen herself, whose benevolence was widely spread and believed in among the peasants of Slovakia. So they send up this delegation to ask the good Queen to grant them every Thursday a release from all labor for these petty magnates and the priests. But after the hard journeys which took days and days, and after coming to the beautiful big city of Vienna, and finally being admitted for the presence of her majesty, the Queen herself, the simple peasants

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became slightly confused, so that the stuttering spokesman who was supposed to present their case managed only to say these words: “Your Highness, we are from the Village N. We work very hard for the magnates and the priests. Will Your Highness grant us every Thursday in the week?” And Her Highness said: Yes, they will have a Thursday every week. But they had to continue working just the same for their Lords. Because they didn’t ask for a release from work, but asked only for every Thursday! So when they wanted to tease the Slovak peasants, they would say, “Well, you asked for Thursday every week, and you got it.” You see the spokesman he was stuttering and he didn’t know what to say to this gracious Queen with all her beautiful robes sitting so elegantly on her throne. But the way I explained it to myself, these village peasants went to Vienna, and when they got to Vienna, they saw there was no chance to see their Queen, and they came back to their village and told this story that the Queen granted them a Thursday every week. I suppose they became muddled, and timid, and decided to tell the villagers this story about their audience with the Queen, so as not to appear to have entirely failed. But anyway there is a sequel to the story. After the Queen supposedly got word about this confused petition, she granted the children of the villagers every week a free Thursday from school. In fact I never went to school on Thursday. And this custom was preserved until 1918, and no children had to go to school on Thursdays.

LITTLE GIRL, MAMA GLAU, AND HUMMING-BIRD Tradition Bearer: Charles Penny Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “A West Indian Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 442–43. Date: 1919 Original Source: New York National Origin: African American (Trinidad)

While this narrative purports to explain the origin of a physical phenomenon (river foam), thus giving it a mythic trait, it would be more properly categorized as an animal tale. The primary importance of this

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The Northeast | Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird

tale in the context of this collection is as an illustration of the power of an immigrant tradition to maintain a traditional folklore text in a traditional performance style in a changed cultural context.

O

ne time there was a little girl called Babe, and Babe was livin’ with her godmother. One day Babe did want to see she mama and she papa, so she asked her godmother to let her go to see them. Now, on the way dere was a very deep river, an’ this day dere was a big shower of rain an’ the whole place was covered over with water. When Babe reached the river an’ couldn’ get over, she begin cryin’. Den a mama glau (mermaid) came up an’ asked Babe what she was cryin’ fo’. Babe tell she that she want to go over an’ see she mama an’ she papa, but she couldn’ get over de river. De mama glau tell she, “I will take you over de river, but you musn’ let nobody know how you get over.” So Mama Glau carry Babe over de river. Now you know Kiliburi (humming-bird) got very good hearing. Mama Glau call Kilibwi and sen’ him to listen to hear if Babe would tell anybody how she got over de ’iver. Babe reached de house, an’ everybody was surprise; an’ dey wanted to fin’ out how she got over, because dey all did know dat de river did wash away de whole place. Babe keep on tellin’ dem dat she cross it herself. But dey wouldn’ believe she. Den in a easy way she tell dem, “Mama Glau carried me across.” Kilibwi was very far, but he hear Babe, an’ he begin singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Kilibwi come right up to de house, singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Now, when Babe was goin’ back, she mama an’ she papa know dat if Kilibwi reach Mama Glau firs’ an’ tell she that Babe give out de secret, Mama Glau would kill Babe, so dey pick a lot of flowers an’ scatter dem in de road. Kilibwi come down, singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil

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I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” But he was so greedy, he had to stop to suck these flowers. So Babe reach de river before Kilibwi, an’ she tell Mama Glau dat she didn’ tell anybody how she get over. So Mama Glau cross she over again. Now, Mr. Kilibwi come down, singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” So Mama Glau says to Kilibwi, “Get on me right shoulder an’ sing dat song.” He sing it on de right shoulder. She say, “Get on me left shoulder.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” She say, “Get on me right ear.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” She say, “Get on me left ear.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Den she say, “Get in de palm of me lef’ han’.” An’ after he get through singin’, Mama Glau hit him one slap an’ grind him up. An’ de foam you see on de river whenever de rain fall is from Kilibwi. De people kill Mama Glau an’ built a bridge over de river.

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HEROES, HEROINES, TRICKSTERS, AND FOOLS

FROTH OF WATER Tradition Bearer: Newell Lion Source: Speck, Frank G. “Penobscot Transformer Tales.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1918): 241–44. Date: ca. 1910 Original Source: Penobscot National Origin: Native American

The plot motifs of this myth follow a pattern known not only in Native American tradition but also cross-culturally. Motifs such as the extraordinary birth, subsequent exile, nurture by foreigners or animals, prodigious feats, the salvation of his people, and final elevation in status may be found in the biographies of heroes and demigods—Heracles (Hercules), Romulus and Remus, and Moses, among others. For cultural information on the Penobscot and related groups, see the introductory notes to “Glooscap” (p. 12) and “Gluska’be Steals Summer for the People, Escapes from the Crows, and Overcomes Winter” (p. 15).


H

ere camps story of a young girl, a virtuous girl, who was fond of swimming. Her mother advised her against too much swimming. Her mother said, “Sometime a water-nymph will put you in trouble.” She did not obey her mother. She was just as fond of swimming. Once as she waded ashore, after swimming, she saw bubbles coming up to the surface of the water in front of where she was going. She was surprised. Then she stopped and looked. While looking at the bubbles, they suddenly turned to froth, and appeared finally, while she looked on, to resemble a baby. Then came a breeze that blew the froth towards her. She became frightened, and wanted to get away from the froth; but it was too late. The froth came in contact with her body, and then disappeared after touching her. She waded ashore, and then went home. Thereafter she did not swim. Time went on, and all at once her belly began to grow. Her mother asked, “What trouble has happened to you?” The girl said, “Nothing ails me. Why?” Her mother said, “You look strange. Why does your belly grow? It seems man has already been near you.” Said the girl, “Mother, man has not been near me.” Then the mother said, “You are trying to deceive me, but you cannot hide yourself here. Soon you will be found out.” Then at last, when her belly was very large, her father, Big Screech Owl, saw her, and said, “You are a very bad woman. I have a notion, if I do not restrain myself, to strike you dead at once here. You will have to live here alone, whatever may come to you. I am disgusted with you; and we are going to leave you here, whether you die of starvation or not.” Then the whole village moved away and left the young girl. She was very unhappy after she was left alone, and thought, “What will ultimately become of me? It seems probable that I shall die of starvation here.” Then in consequence she burst out crying. While she was crying, Kingfisher came flying to her suddenly. He said, “Don’t grieve! It is impossible to die of starvation here. I will help you, and my grandmother, P’ske’gadamu’s, and I will take care of you.” The girl was glad, and said, “Now I shall live.” She told the Kingfisher, “Thank you very much. You have pleased me exceedingly.” Then in the evening came an old woman. Ground-moss was the material of her clothing, and cedar-bark her belt. She said, “Granddaughter, don’t let anything worry you. Be contented, for I shall take care of you.” When it was time for her to bear a child, the girl said, “Grandmother, I am very glad, and thank you for what you are going to do for me.”

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The Northeast | Froth of Water

Big Screech Owl, great chief, and his people, moved away, and were a long while getting far over the divide of mountains. There they came to a village, and there they settled. The inhabitants of the village did not like it very well; they were not pleased. Then they began to antagonize the strange people. When Big Screech Owl knew that they were after the lives of his people, he said, “We must fight if we want to stay.” At last a man came to Big Screech Owl, and said, “If you are going to stay here, you must fight, because we do not love you strange people, and because our chief White-Bear is proud. You must conquer us, or, if you do not conquer us, you must live as our slaves.” Said Big Screech Owl, “Go ahead! We are ready to fight whenever you are, and we shall never leave here.” Then the man left, and went to his chief and said, “They will not leave, and they are ready to fight.” Said the chief, “So then! To-morrow we will attack them.” Next morning they attacked, and began battle. Then suddenly White-Bear came rushing up. Big Screech Owl’s men looked and saw him, and then began to run, they were so frightened. Then Big Screech Owl became discouraged when he saw the beast coming up. The beast was so big, that he was halfway up the trees in height. Big Screech Owl was discouraged, and cried out to White-Bear, “You have conquered us. Stop! Hold off your men! I give up now! We will be your slaves.” Said White-Bear, “So! That’s good.” Then he called off his men, and said, “Let them alone, they have become our slaves.” The girl, Big Screech Owl’s daughter, had delivered her baby, which was a boy. Maski•’k’wsi• said, “The little man is now seen here. What will you name him?” She said, “Bubble-Froth, because he was conceived there in water.” Said P’ske’gadamu’s, “So! A good name; and after he becomes a man, he will become the greatest magician on this side of the land-divide, and soon after also across the top of the range.” The girl rejoiced. P’ske’gadamu’s thereupon took good care of both mother and son. That Kingfisher brought them all kinds of fish, which fed very well those whom he cared for. The boy grew very fast and was healthy. Then, when he had grown enough, then Maski•’k’wsi• taught him to hunt. She made him a bow and took him in the woods. Rabbits they hunted. When she had taught him how, then he hunted alone, and brought in an abundance of wild meat. He provided well for his mother and grandmother, Maski•’k’wsi•. When he became a man, his true friend, Kingfisher, said to him, “You ought to search for your grandfather and your grandmother and the others of your people.”

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When he came back to his wigwam, he said to his mother and Maski•’k’wsi•, “Kingfisher told me it is said I have many relatives. Now, then, I am going to search for them.” Then said Maski•’k’wsi•, “Very far away, but you will surely come to their abode.” She said, “Now go to the north until you see a cross-range of hazy mountains, and across them you will find your people.” Froth, on the next morning, went away, and walked for many days. At last he suddenly saw a range of misty mountains in the distance. Ki•i•! He rejoiced, and said, “Soon I shall come to where my people are.” He hurried along for seven days’ time, and then he came to the other side of the mountains. He saw a village, and said, “Now, then, soon I shall see my people.” Looking, he saw half the village quiet, and the other half noisy, and many there together playing ball, and others dancing. He entered from the quiet direction, and in the first wigwam he entered was Woodchuck. When Woodchuck saw Froth, she began to cry, and at the same time spoke and said, “Poor grandson! We suffer very much because we are all slaves.” Then she began to relate to Froth the history of her life. She said, “And you are now with the slave sort.” Then she stopped grieving, she bustled about and prepared food, and gave it to him. Then Froth ate; and while eating, a man rushed in quickly, and said, “A little beast is tracked, having gone by in the bush. We shall have great sport, it is said.” Said Woodchuck, “At least you ought to wait until the man (Froth) is done eating.” Then Froth said, “So! I shall soon be ready. I too am very fond of sport.” When he had finished eating, he took up his bow. He told Woodchuck, “Don’t worry about me, grandmother.” When he went outside, men were standing there waiting for him. They said to Froth, “Here in the thicket a little way off are the fresh tracks of the animal going by. Let us chase him!” Accordingly then they all went forth. Froth began looking at the tracking; and when he saw the tracks, ki’nalagitdie’•na they looked like the place where a wigwam had been after being wrenched from the ground, e•e•, they were so big and deep! Right away Froth began to run and chase the little animal. e•e! How he ran then! These people all hung back, they let him go on ahead. He went ahead of them, and on this account they were all laughing in their minds at him. Then, as he went on, he overtook the little beast, and saw it standing there halfway up to the trees in height. It was the great magic White-Bear. Then Froth

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The Northeast | Froth of Water

shot at it. But even so, the Bear did not notice it. Then again he shot. Then at last all his arrows were used up except one. Suddenly a chickadee appeared flying, and alighted on Froth’s shoulder and began to whisper, “See his heel!” Looking, Froth saw something throbbing on White-Bear’s heel. He shot at that cursed throbbing round thing. Then WhiteBear toppled over. Froth went up to him. White-Bear was stiff and dead. Looking at him, Froth saw that he had shot White-Bear in his heart, and the arrow had gone clear through. The people came up in a mass. Some of them were laughing when they got there because of it. They looked, and saw White-Bear lying there dead. Said Froth, “I will give you your share of the beast. It was very good sport.” The people right away cast down their faces quickly. Nobody spoke. Then they walked back to the village. When Froth saw Woodchuck, he said, “Grandma, I have shot him dead, that White-Bear.” Then Woodchuck cried, she was so glad. They danced around, and she said, “Grandson, you have done a very great thing. You have conquered the greatest magic man in the world.” Froth said, “It was by the help of Kingfisher and Chickadee.” That evening there was a big rejoicing-feast. There was a big dance on this account, and everyone was happy. Next morning Froth left for his mother’s. Going along, at last he arrived, and said to her, “Get well ready. Tomorrow we shall move. I have found and met our people.” The next morning they started off. Along came Kingfisher and Chickadee and Maski•’k’wsi•. They came to bid good-by. Kingfisher said, “Adieu, Froth! Now as long as you live, in the future, if you meet with great danger, think of me. I will help you accordingly.” And Maski•’k’wsi• also said, “Froth, when you meet with difficulty, think of and wish for me.” And Chickadee said, “And as for me, think of me. I will help you.” Then they went away. At last Froth and his mother reached a village. Then to Woodchuck’s wigwam they went; and Woodchuck cried, she was so glad. Soon after, all his relatives came up, his grandfather, his grandmother, and the other relations. His grandfather said to him, “The reason we come is that we wish you to forgive us for abandoning your mother so miserably. You saved us a great deal when you conquered the great magic man. Now, then, here is where you will be a great chief, and I now take off my office mantles and I put it on you.” Then he passed his chieftainship on to his grandson. Then Froth was a great chief.

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ROSE Tradition Bearer: Mary Brown Source: “English Folk-Tales in America.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 213–14. Date: 1889 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

The following ordinary folktale is a variant of “Beauty and the Beast” (AT425C). The tale includes an opening motif (L52, “Abused youngest daughter”) normally associated with “Cinderella” (AT510A), for good measure.

O

nce upon a time there was a widower with one daughter, and he married a widow with two daughters, each of whom was older than his own daughter Rose. The two elder daughters were all for balls and parties. Little Rose had to do all the work, and when they went to a party she was obliged to help them dress, brush, and comb their hair, and never was allowed to go herself. She never complained, but was very kind to her father, and always prepared his meals. Once it was necessary for him to go on a long journey. He asked each of his daughters what he should bring them for a present. The elder daughters wanted silk dresses, jewelry, and all that was rare. Little Rose stood by, not saying a word. Her father asked: “Little Rose, what can I bring for you?” “Nothing, father, but a rose.” And she kissed her father, and bade him goodby. “Rose, I shall bring you a rose, the very prettiest I can get, if it should cost me my life.” After he got to his journey’s end, he came to a splendid palace. The house was empty, but all in order. His breakfast was ready, but he could see no one. He stayed all night, in the morning went into the garden, and oh, the beautiful rose! After he plucked the rose, and had gone a few steps, a great lion met him, frothing at the mouth, and told him, “For this rose you shall die.”

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The Northeast | Rose

The father said that he had a very beautiful daughter at home, whose name was Rose, and that, as he was leaving, he promised to bring her a rose; and he pleaded, “If you will only let me go home to my little daughter to bid her farewell.” So the Lion let him go home, on condition that he was to return. And as he came home Rose was looking out of the window and saw her father coming, and ran to meet him. “Why,” said she, “father, what makes you look so sad?” “Nothing, my child, except that I have plucked a rose, and for this rose I must die.” “No, father, you shall not go back and die for the rose, but I will go back and ask to have you pardoned.” So she went to the palace. As she entered it seemed to her that everything which her eyes fell on seemed to say, “Welcome, Beauty, here!” Even on her cup and saucer, and on every piece of furniture in her chamber were the words, “Welcome, Beauty, here!” She went out to find the Lion, and said that she had come to ask him to forgive her father, and that the rose was for her. But the Lion said he would not do it unless she would promise to be his wife. Her father was very dear to her, yet she did not like to marry a lion. The Lion gave her a beautiful gold ring, and told her that whenever she wanted to see her father she was to lay the ring on her table before going to sleep, and wish to see her father, and she would be at home in the morning. Her father was now getting old, and she grieved for him. At night she laid her ring on the table, at the same time making a wish that she would like to see her father. The next morning she found herself with her father, whom she found much changed. His hair had turned white from grief at the thought of losing his Rose, or having her marry the Lion. That night she laid her ring on the table, and wished herself back at the palace. The palace was more beautiful than before, and the table all ready. On every plate were the words, “Welcome, Beauty, here!” On the first morning she went out into the garden. The poor Lion was lying very sick, and she looked at him. “Oh, I cannot bear to see my poor Lion die; what am I to do?” Finally, she said that she could not bear it any longer, and she called out, “I will be your wife.” With this a beautiful young prince stood before her. So they were married, and he sent for her father, and the step-sisters who had been so cruel to her were made servants to stand at the post of the gate before the palace, and all the people were happy.

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WOLF OF THE GREENWOOD Tradition Bearer: Mrs. William Buell Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 311–14. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: German American

“Wolf of the Greenwood” is an ordinary folktale that incorporates some of the traditional motifs associated with “The Girl as Helper in the Hero’s Flight” (AT313). Variants of this narrative are found throughout Europe and the United States. Compare this folktale to “Whiteberry Whittington” (Vol. II, pp. 153).

O

nce upon a time there lived a woman who had three daughters who were old enough to marry, but no one came to marry them. The woman owned a witch chair, which had the power to charm anyone who sat in it into loving one of the daughters. One day a fine young man came and sat in the chair, and the mother told him that he might have the choice of her daughters for his wife. After looking at them all to see which was the prettiest, he chose the youngest. A short time after they were married, another young woman who had loved the young man invited him to her home high up on one of the Rocky Mountains. He went; and while he was there, the young woman, who was a witch, put a spell upon him which changed him into a wolf. Every day he was to roam the greenwood; but when night came, he could return to his own home in human form. So the poor young wife never saw her husband except at night, for every morning in the form of a wolf he ran away to the greenwood and spent the day. After about a year a little baby girl was born to them; and after another year there came another babe to make them happy. This made the witch woman on the mountain so jealous, that she sent down her dog, which went to the baby lying in its cradle, and licked its little cheek so hard that it licked out one of the baby’s eyes. The mother took good care that the dog did not get at her children again, until the third baby came. Soon after that, one day the eldest disappeared; and

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The Northeast | Wolf of the Greenwood

all the mother knew was that she saw the same dog which had licked out the second child’s eye, disappearing up the road. She did not know that the dog took the child to one of its father’s brothers and left it there. As the brother had no children of his own, he was very glad to take the one which the dog left. In the same manner another was taken to another uncle, who was also childless. The poor mother was almost distracted, for now the witch woman did not allow the husband to return to his home at all. The mother watched the third child as carefully as ever she could; but at last the dog managed to steal that, too, and carried her to still another childless uncle. When the mother had lost both her babies and her husband, she felt that she must set out and see if she could not find them. She did not go far, before she came to the house of the brother-in-law who had taken the first child. The witch woman had put her under a spell, so that she did not know her own babe or her brother-in-law. Nor did they know her. When she told the man of her loss, he was so sorry for her that he gave her an accordion for company. But she could not bear to go home and stay alone, so she went on until she came to the house of the second brother-in-law. Here the same things happened as had happened at the house of the first brother; and when she left him, he gave her a beautiful golden comb. Still she could not bear to go home, but continued on her way until she came to the house of the third brother-in-law. To him she told her story, and also that her husband was kept upon a high icy mountain which she was not able to climb because it was so slippery. Wishing to help her, this brother-in-law, just as she was going away, told her to go to the nearest blacksmith, whom he ordered to shoe the woman with some sharp iron shoes, which would enable her to climb the mountain where the witch woman lived. When the blacksmith had her shod, she started up the mountain, and, owing to the fine shoes he had made her, soon reached the home of the witch woman, and saw her own husband working about, felling trees and chopping wood to keep the witch woman comfortable, for it was very cold on the mountain. When the witch woman saw the wonderful shoes which had enabled the woman to climb so well, she asked her how much she would take for them. The woman replied that if she would let her pass the night with the wood-chopper, she would give her the shoes. The witch woman agreed to that; but when night came, before the wood-chopper went to bed, the witch gave him a draught which made him sleep soundly until the witch willed for him to awaken. The wife, thinking that if she could get her husband by himself she could win him back, waited until she thought that the witch would not hear. Then she said,

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“O wolf of the greenwood! Why won’t you turn to me? Three poor little babes have I borne to thee.” But the witch had sealed his ears; so that, although the wife said three times, “O wolf of the greenwood! why won’t you turn to me? Three poor little babes have I borne to thee,” her husband did not hear her. In the morning the witch saw her combing her hair with a beautiful comb, and asked her what she would take for it. The wife replied that she would exchange it for another night with the wood-chopper. The witch agreed to this. But again she gave the man a draught, so that he paid no heed when his wife said, “O wolf of the greenwood! why don’t you turn to me? Three poor little babes have I borne to thee.” In the morning, before he came out from the power of the draught, the witch came and took him away. In the afternoon the witch heard the wife playing beautiful music on her accordion, and asked her how much she would take for it. The wife made the same reply as before; and the witch agreed, thinking that she would give the man the sleeping-draught the same as before. Before night came on, however, the wife escaped the watchful eyes of the witch, and ran into the wood to her husband. She did not tell him who she was, but gave him a sponge, and told him when the witch gave him the draught that night to pretend to take it, but really to pour it into the sponge. The witch watched him so carefully that he had to pretend to get choked. Then, when the witch went for water to help him, he poured the draught into the sponge; and when she returned, he pretended that he had swallowed it. That night the wife told her husband all that had happened to her; so in the morning, when the witch came into the room where they were, the husband fell upon her and killed her. Then he and his wife went down the mountain and got their children, after which they returned to the witch’s house, and lived happily ever after.

HOW JACK WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE Tradition Bearer: Francis L. Palmer Source: Newell, William Wells. “English Folktales in America I.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 227–33. Date: 1888 Original Source: Connecticut

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The Northeast | How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune

National Origin: Anglo American

The tale “How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune” (classified as “The Animals in Night Quarters,” AT130) often appears without the human protagonist, “Jack.” In fact the most widely known variant is the Grimms’ “Bremen Town Musicians” (Grimm 27). Version C most closely resembles the Grimms’ tale. Most versions include only domestic animals. The skunk is not commonly one of Jack’s animal defenders and is most likely an American regional addition. The sounds understood as “Toss him up to me-e! Toss him up to me-e!” obviously represent a misunderstanding of the animal’s distinctive sound.

Version A

O

nce on a time there was a boy named Jack, and one morning he started to go and seek his fortune.

He hadn’t gone very far before he met a cat. “Where are you going, Jack?” said the cat. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?” “Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little farther and they met a dog “Where are you going, Jack?” said the dog. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?” “Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little farther and they met a goat. “Where are you going, Jack?” said the goat. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?”

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“Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little farther and they met a bull. “Where are you going, Jack?” said the bull. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?” “Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little farther and they met a skunk. “Where are you going, Jack?” said the skunk. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?” “Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little farther and they met a rooster. “Where are you going, Jack?” said the rooster. “I am going to seek my fortune.” “May I go with you?” “Yes,” said Jack, “the more the merrier.” So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. Well, they went on till it was about dark, and they began to think of some place where they could spend the night. About this time they came in sight of a house, and Jack told them to keep still while he went up and looked in through the window. And there were some robbers counting over their money. Then Jack went back and told them to wait till he gave the word, and then to make all the noise they could. So when they were all ready Jack gave the word, and the cat mewed, and the dog barked, and the goat blatted, and the bull bellowed, and the rooster crowed, and all together they made such a dreadful noise that it frightened the robbers all away. And then they went in and took possession of the house. Jack was afraid the robbers would come back in the night, and so when it came time to go to bed he put the cat in the rocking-chair, and he put the dog under the table, and he put the goat up-stairs, and he put the bull down in the cellar, and he put the skunk in the corner of the fireplace, and the rooster flew up on to the roof, and Jack went to bed. By and by the robbers saw it was all dark and they sent one man back to the house to look after their money. Before long he came back in a great fright and told them his story.

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“I went back to the house,” said he, “and went in and tried to sit down in the rocking-chair, and there was an old woman knitting, and she stuck her knitting-needles into me. I went to the table to look after the money and there was a shoe-maker under the table, and he stuck his awl into me. “I started to go up-stairs, and there was a man up there threshing, and he knocked me down with his flail. “I started to go down cellar, and there was a man down there chopping wood, and he knocked me up with his axe. “I went to warm me at the fireplace, and there was an old woman washing dishes, and she threw her dish-water on to me. “But I shouldn’t have minded all that if it hadn’t been for that little fellow on top of the house, who kept a-hollering ‘Toss him up to me-e! Toss him up to me-e!’”

Version B Tradition Bearer: Fanny D. Bergen Source: Newell, William Wells. “English Folktales in America I.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 228–30. Date: 1855 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

O

nce on a time there was a boy named Jack, who set out to seek his fortune. He had not gone but a little way when he came to a horse. The horse said, “Where are you going, Jack?” He said, “I’m going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go along too?” “Don’t know, guess I will.” So they walked along together. By and by they came to a cow. The cow said, “Where are you going, Jack?” He said, “I’m going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go along too?” “Don’t know, guess I will.” So they walked along together. By and by they came to a ram. The ram said, “Where are you going, Jack?” He said, “I’m going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go along too?” “Don’t know, guess I will.” So they walked along together. By and by they came to a dog. The dog said, “Where are you going, Jack?” “I am going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go too?” “Don’t know, don’t care if I do.” So they all walked along together. By and by they came to a cat. The cat said, “Where are you going, Jack?”

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Jack said, “I’m going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go too?” “Don’t know, guess I will.” So they all walked along together. By and by they came to a rooster. The rooster said, “Where are you going, Jack?” “I’m going to seek my fortune. Won’t you go too?” “Don’t know, don’t care if I do.” So they all walked along together. They traveled along until it began to grow dark, and then they were looking for a place to spend the night, when they saw a log cabin on the edge of a woods. Jack went up to the house and found the door unlocked, and went in. After looking about he found a good bed up-stairs and plenty of good food in the cupboard. There was a fire on the hearth. As he could see no one living there, after he had eaten a good supper and fed all the animals, he began to make preparations for the night. First he led the horse out into the stable, and fed him some hay, for he found plenty of good hay on the mow. Then he took all the other animals into the house, and he found the door closed into the locker, so he stationed the dog under the table near the door, so that he might bite anyone who might chance to enter the house. The cat lay down on the hearth, and the rooster perched on a large cross-beam, and then he stationed the cow at the foot of the stairs, and the ram at the top of the stairs that led to the loft. Then he covered up the fire, put out the light, and went to bed, and was soon fast asleep. Now it happened that this valley was the home of two wicked robbers, who had gone out during the day in search of plunder. Late in the night Jack was awakened by a great noise, for the robbers had returned and opened the door, expecting to find things as usual. They were suddenly grabbed by the dog, who bit them furiously, barking all the while. At last they managed to escape from him, and started to the fireplace, thinking to strike a light. One of the robbers tried to light a match by a coal which he thought he saw shining in the ashes; but this was the cat’s eye, and as soon as she was molested she flew on them and scratched their faces dreadfully, till they were glad to escape from the fireplace. They went from the fireplace toward the stairs, but as they passed under the rooster’s perch he dropped very disagreeable material (these words to be whispered) upon them. The robbers groped their way through the dark to the foot of the stairs, meaning to creep up to the bed and rest till morning, but just as they reached the stairs they were suddenly caught on the horns of the cow, and tossed up in the air. The ram called out, “Toss ’em up to me!” Before they lighted he caught them on his horns and tossed them up in the air.

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And the cow called out, “Toss ’em down to me!” Before they lighted she caught them on her horns and tossed them up in the air. Then the ram called out, “Toss ’em up to me!” And before they lighted he caught them on his horns. And so they tossed them back and forth until they were all mangled and bloody. At last they managed to escape from the cow’s horns, and thought they would crawl off to the barn and spend the rest of the night. As they passed the dog in going to the door he gave them a parting snip, but they escaped from him and found the way out to the barn. When they tried to creep in at the door the horse began to kick them so dreadfully that they had to give that up, and were only just able to creep off to a fence corner, where they laid down and died. As soon as Jack found that everything was quiet he went to sleep, and slept soundly till morn, after he got up and dressed himself. By and by he looked about and found there was a large bag of gold under his bed, which had been stolen from time to time by the robbers. So Jack kept the gold, was well provided for, and lived happily forever after with his faithful animals.

Version C Tradition Bearer: H. S. Thurston Source: Newell, William Wells. “English Folktales in America I.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 230-33. Date: 1888 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

O

nce upon a time, a long while ago, when beasts and fowls could talk, it happened that a dog lived in a farmer’s barnyard. By and by he grew tired of watching the house all night and working hard all day, so he thought he’d go out into the world to seek his fortune. One fine day, when the farmer had gone away, he started off down the road. He hadn’t gone far when he spied a cat curled up asleep on a doorstone in a farmer’s yard, so he looked over the fence and called to the cat, “I’m going out into the world to seek my fortune; don’t you want to come along too?” But the cat said she was very comfortable where she was, and didn’t think she cared to go traveling. But the dog told her that by and by when she got old the farmer wouldn’t let her lie on his sunny doorstone, but would make her lie

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in the cold, no matter whether it snowed or not. So the cat concluded she’d go along too, and they walked down the road arm-in-arm. They hadn’t gone far when they spied a jackass, eating grass in a farmer’s yard. So the dog looked over the fence and called to the jackass, “We’re going out into the world to seek our fortune, don’t you want to come along too!” But the jackass said he was very comfortable where he was, and didn’t think he cared to go traveling. But the dog told him that by and by, when he got old and stiff, he’d have to work early and late, year after year, for only just what he would eat, and short allowance at that. So the jackass concluded to go along too, and they all walked down the road arm-in-arm. They hadn’t gone far when they spied a cock crowing in a farmer’s yard, so the dog looked over the fence and called, “We’re going out into the world to seek our fortune, don’t you want to come along too?” But the rooster said he was very comfortable where he was, and didn’t think he cared to go traveling. But the dog told him that by and by, when it came Thanksgiving, pop would go his head, and he’d make a fine dinner for the farmer. So the rooster concluded he’d go along too, and they all walked down the road arm-in-arm. Now they had neglected to take anything to eat along with them, and when night overtook them, weary, foot-sore, and hungry, they were in a dense forest, and they all began to blame the dog for getting them into such a scrape. The ass proposed that the cock should fly to the top of a high tree to see if he could discover a place for them to lodge. He had scarcely perched on a limb before he called to his friends that a house was a little way off, for he could see a light in the window. The dog called to him to come down and lead the way to the house, and they all walked off arm-in-arm to the house. When they got there it was perfectly still about the house; they could hear no one inside. The ass kicked at the door, but no one answered. They looked about and found the house had only one window, and that was so high up they couldn’t look in. He proposed that the jackass should stand on his hind legs, with his fore-legs resting against the house, while the dog should clamber up his back and stand on his head, the cat run up the backs of both, and the rooster fly to the cat’s head, and then he could just look in at the window. “Hurry and tell what you see,” said the jackass, “for my neck is breaking off.” “I see a fire on a hearth and a table loaded with all sorts of fine things to eat; turkey and plum pudding, and pan-dowdy, and a band of men sitting round the table.” “Zounds!” said the dog, “we must get in.”

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So the rooster flew against the window with such a crash that it scared the robbers, for this was a band of robbers, nearly to death. They jumped up from the table so quickly that they over-turned their chairs and whisked out the candles, while in flew the rooster, the cat, and the dog at the window, while the jackass went round and waited at the door till the robbers came out and ran away. Then the beasts lighted the candles again, and picked up the chairs, and sat down and had a good supper. Then they began to look about to see how they should dispose of themselves for the night. The jackass went out in the barn to sleep in the hay, the dog lay on the rug by the hearth, the cat took up her bed among the warm ashes, and the rooster flew to the ridge-pole of the house, and soon all were fast asleep, being very tired by their long day’s journey. By and by the robbers plucked up courage, and about midnight came back to the house to see if perchance they had not been scared at their shadows. Two of them got in at the window to take a survey, and seeing the cat’s glowing eyes in the ashes mistook them for coals, and scratching a match in them the cat sunk her claws in his hand, which terrified him so much that in attempting to escape he ran against the dog and he in turn caught the robber by the leg and bit him. By this time the tumult had awakened the ass, and just as the robber rushed out at the door the jackass met him and kicked him ten feet in the air, while the rooster set up a hideous crowing. It took but a few minutes for the robbers to escape to the woods and find their companions, to whom they told a doleful tale, how in trying to light a match at the fireplace the devil with red-hot eyes stuck his claws into his hands, a second devil attacked him in the rear, while another devil kicked him into the air, and as he came down on the greensward, more dead than alive, another horrid demon from the house-top cried out, “Throw the rascal up here, throw the rascal up here.” The thieves could never be induced to go back to the house. They thought it haunted by devils. So our friends, the jackass, the dog, the cat, and the rooster, lived there happy forever after, preferring it to traveling about to see the world.

GLUSKA’BE THE DECEIVER Tradition Bearer: Newell Lion Source: Speck, Frank G. “Penobscot Transformer Tales.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1918): 190–94. Date: ca. 1910

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Original Source: Penobscot National Origin: Native American

This myth cycle of the early education of Gluska’be, the Penobscot trickster and culture hero, provides important background information on his powers, personality, and ethics. Also, the myths establish his grandmother, Woodchuck, as the moral compass that, as much as possible, exercises control over his powerful magic. The typical power and egocentric nature of the trickster are apparent in his use of lies to capture all the game and fish in the world. However, the success of Grandmother Woodchuck’s repeated admonitions to think not only of himself and the present but also of his future descendants sets him on the culture’s path. See the introductions to the myths of Glooscap and Gluska’be (Vol. I, pp. 12 and 15) for additional cultural background.

Gluska’be Learns to Hunt

H

ere starts my story of Gluska’be. He lived with his grandmother, Woodchuck. She raised him and taught him everything—how to hunt, fish, and how to make his living. When he grew up large enough to use a bow and arrow, he said to his grandmother, “Make me a bow and arrows, as I want to hunt deer; I am already tired of rabbit’s meat and fish.” Then he roamed away and killed a deer, and she was glad. She was very proud of him. Then next he roamed away and killed a bear. “What creature is it?” he asked her when he brought it home. She was glad, and began to dance. “You have killed a bear, a great piece of meat. Now we shall have plenty of fat. We shall live richly.” Said she, “He will be a great magician. He will do great wonders for our descendants as he goes on,” thought she to herself, “because various dangers will in the future endanger their lives, different beasts will seek their lives, also rivers, and he can transform them so that they will not be dangerous.” Then Gluska’be said to his grandmother, “I should like you to show me how to build a canoe, so that I can hunt ducks.”

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The Northeast | Gluska’be the Deceiver

“Surely I will teach you, grandson!” So she taught him how to build a canoe, and at last it was finished. She was glad when he paddled out to get ducks. He got a great many. Now at last, as time went on, the wind got so strong that he could not paddle about. He tried hunting in the woods, thinking, “Hunting is evidently very slow.” So he returned to his wigwam.

Gluska’be Bags All the Game-Animals

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hen he lay down on his bedding and began to sing, wishing for a gamebag of hair, so that he might get the beasts more easily. His grandmother, Woodchuck, then made him a game-bag of deer-hair. When it was finished, she tossed it to Gluska’be; but he did not stop singing. Then again one of moose-hair she made, and tossed it to him; but he did not stop. Then, pulling woodchuck hairs from her belly, she made one of those. Gluska’be was indeed glad, and he thanked her. Then he went into the woods and called all the animals. He said to them, “Come on, you animals! The world is coming to an end, and you animals will all perish.” Then the animals of all kinds came forth; and he said to them, “Get inside my bag here! In there you will not see the world come to an end.” Then they entered the bag, and he carried it to the wigwam. “Now, grandmother,” said he, “I have brought some game-animals. From now on we shall not have such a hard time searching for game.” Then Woodchuck went and saw all the different kinds of animals which were in the bag. She went into the wigwam, and said, “You have not done well, grandson. Our descendants will in the future die of starvation. I have great hopes in you for our descendants. Do not do what you have done. You must only do what will benefit them, our descendants.” Gluska’be heeded his grandmother. He went and opened the bag, and said to the animals, “Go out! The danger has already gone by. Go out!” And they scattered.

Gluska’be Traps All the Fish

T

hen he went wandering about. When he returned to his wigwam, he saw his grandmother there fishing. He at last became impatient, as he saw that his grandmother was having a hard time fishing. Then he thought, “I had better help my grandmother, so that she will not have such a hard time.”

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Then he made a weir across the mouth of the river, and left an opening halfway in the middle, so that the fish could enter. Then he started out upon the ocean, and called everywhere to all the fish, saying to them, “The ocean is going to dry up, the world is coming to an end, and you will all die; but I have arranged it so that you will all live if you will listen to me. All who hear me, enter into my river, and you will live, because my river will survive! Enter all ye who hear me!” All kinds of fish came, until the fish-weir was full; and then he closed it up and held them there. Then he went to his wigwam, and said to his grandmother, “Now, grandma, you will not have to fish so hard, you will only have to go and gather as many fish as you want.” Then Woodchuck went to examine what he had done; and when she arrived, she saw the weir brimful of all kinds of fish that were even crowding one another out. Then she went back, and said to her grandson, “Grandson, you have not done well by annihilating all the fish. How will our descendants manage in the future, should you and I now have as many fish as we wish? Now go at once and turn them loose!” Accordingly he said, “You are right, grandmother, I will go and open up [the weir];” and he went and turned them loose.

THE FIGHT WITH THE GIANT WITCH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mallery, Garrick. “The Fight with the Giant Witch.” American Anthropologist 3 (1890): 66–70. Date: ca. 1890 Original Source: Passamaquoddy (Abenaki) National Origin: Native American

Although Glooscap (or, in this myth, Glooscup) has been introduced earlier in this collection (Vol. I, pp. 12, 15), “The Fight with the Giant Witch” introduces new attributes of this character. Instead of playing the role of trickster, he is a human warrior with the power of resurrecting the dead. The poohegans are particular representations of the

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“guardian spirits” that, throughout Native North America, are acquired not only by “witches” (more properly shamans or sorcerers, who may be either male or female) but also by persons wishing to acquire power in warfare, hunting, healing, or even gambling. Like the poohegans in this myth, guardian spirits may be drawn from a wide range of phenomena: animals, natural phenomena, and even archetypes such as Disease.

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any, many, long years ago, there dwelt in a large cave in the interior of a great mountain an old man who was a Keewauk-M’-telolen or Giant Witch. Near the mountain was a large Indian village the chief of which was named Hass-ag-wauk, the Striped Squirrel. Every few days some of the chief’s best warriors mysteriously disappeared from the tribe. Hass-ag-wauk soon became convinced that they had been killed by the Giant Witch and he called a council of all the noted witches who possessed the greatest power. They gathered together in a new strong wigwam made for that purpose. There were ten of them in all, named Quar-beet, the Beaver; Moosque, the Wood-worm; Quag-sis, the Fox; K’cheattosis, the Serpent; Eag-winn, the Loon; Cosque, the Crane; Moo-in, the Bear; Lox, the Devil; K’che-pelogan, the Eagle; Wabb-tek, the Wild-goose. The great chief Hass-ag-wauk addressed the witches and told them that he hoped that they might be able to conquer the Giant Witch, and that if possible, it must be done at once or his tribe would be exterminated. The witches resolved that they would commence the battle the next night and use their greatest powers to kill the Giant Witch. Now the Giant Witch could foretell all his troubles by his dreams, and on that very night he dreamed of all the plans which the witches contemplated for his destruction. Now all Indian witches have poohegans or guardian spirits. The Giant Witch sent one of his poohegans, little Alumusett or the Hummingbird, to the Chief Hass-ag-wauk telling him that it would not be fair to send ten to fight one, but that if he would send one witch at a time he would be pleased to meet them. The chief sent word in return that the witches would meet him in battle one at time. The next night the witches met as appointed, as soon as the sun slept, and it was agreed that the Beaver should fight first. Now the Beaver had So-ga-lum or Rain for his poohegan and he caused a great flood to come and fill up the cave where the Giant Witch lived and by this means hoped to drown him. But the Giant Witch had the power to change himself into a Lamper Eel and held fast on to the side of his cave and thus escaped. The Beaver, thinking that the

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Giant Witch was probably drowned, swam down into the cave and got caught in a k’pagu-teehegan or beaver-trap which the Giant Witch had purposely set for him. Thus the Beaver is conquered. The next witch to fight is Moosque, the Wood-worm, whose poohegan is Fire. The Wood-worm told Fire that he would bore a hole down into the cave that night and that on the next night he wanted Fire to go down into the hole and by this means burn the Giant Witch. The Wood-worm went to work and with his sharp head and by whirling himself around like a screw soon made a deep hole in the side of the mountain, but the Giant Witch knew what was going on and he sent his poohegan, Humming-bird, with a piece of cheequaquseque, punk, and put a plug in the hole so tight that the Wood-worm could not get back and the next night when Fire went into the hole he set fire to the punk and burnt up Moosque, the Wood-worm, and thus perished the second witch. The next witch to fight was K’cheattosis, the Serpent. He had Hummewess, the Bee, for his poohegan. The Bee called all of the bees together and they went into the cave and swarmed all over the Giant Witch, which made him roar with pain; but he sent the Humming-bird and collected a lot of birch bark and set it on fire which made a dense smoke and stifled all the bees. After waiting some time the witch, Serpent, went into the cave to see if the bees had killed the Giant Witch, but he got caught in a dead-fall which the Giant Witch had prepared for him. The chief Hass-ag-wauk was now almost discouraged at having lost three of his best witches without accomplishing anything; but seven more remained. The next witch to fight was Quag-sis, the Fox. His poohegan was K’seeno-ka, Disease, and he sent him to afflict the Giant Witch with all kinds of sickness and he was soon covered with sores and boils and every part of his body was filled with aches and pains, but he sent his poohegan, Humming-bird, to Quiliphoit, the god of medicine, who gave him the plant Kee-kaywee-N’bisoon, which as soon as it was administered to the Giant Witch immediately cured him of all his diseases. The next witch to fight was Eag-winn, the Loon, whose poohegan was T’kaiou, Cold. In a short time the mountain was covered with snow and ice and the cave was filled with cold blasts of wind, the frost cracked the trees and broke asunder the great stones. The Giant Witch suffered terribly, but did not become discouraged. He tried his magic stone and heated it red hot, but it was so cold that it had lost its power and could not help him. Alumusett, the Hummingbird, had both wings frozen and could not be sent on any more errands; but one of the Giant Witch’s best poohegans was Lithuswagon or Thought, and he sent him like a flash to Sou-nessen, the South Wind, to come to his aid. In a short

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time the warm South Wind began to blow around the mountain, and the cold was obliged to disappear from the cave. The next witch to fight was Cosque, the Crane, whose poohegan was Keewauk, the Giant-with-a-heart-of-ice, who soon went to work with his big stone hatchet and chopped down all the trees and tore up the rocks and commenced to cut a large hole into the solid rocks in the side of the mountain, but the Giant Witch, now for the first time, let loose his great and terrible dog M’dasmoose, who barked so loudly and attacked Kee-wauk so fiercely that he was frightened off. The next witch to fight was Moo-in, the Bear, whose poohegans were Badogiek, Thunder, and Pa-sock-way-tuck, Lightning. Soon a great thunderstorm took place which shook the whole mountain and a thunder-bolt split the mouth of the cave in two. The lightning flashed into the cave and nearly blinded the Giant Witch who was now terribly frightened for the first time and he cried with pain for he was badly burned by the lightning; but the Thunder and Lightning redoubled their strength and filled the cave with fire. The Giant Witch was now greatly alarmed and quickly sent the Hummingbird to summon Haplebemlo, the Great Bull-frog, to come to his aid. He soon came and spit out his great mouth full of water which nearly filled the cave and extinguished the fire and drove off Thunder and Lightning. The next witch to fight was Lox, the Indian devil. Now Lox was always a coward and when he learned of the misfortune of the other witches he cut off one of his big toes and when the great chief Hass-ag-wauk called him to go fight he made the excuse that he was lame and could not go. The next witch to fight was K’che-pelogan, the Eagle, whose poohegan was Applaus-um-luessit, the Whirl-wind. When he went to the cave of the Giant Witch with all his fury and violence and noise he awoke the Giant Witch who had been asleep and who at once k’pla-moosooke or lost his breath and was unable to speak. But he made signs to the Humming-bird to go for Cul-loo the chief of all great birds, but the wind blew with such strength that the Hummingbird could not get out of the mouth of the cave but was always driven back again. The Giant Witch now sent his poohegan Thought, to command Cul-loo to come to his assistance. In a moment the Great Bird came and made such a great wind with his wings at the mouth of the cave that the power of the Whirlwind was useless. The Chief Hass-ag-wauk now became discouraged as but one more witch remained to fight and this was Wabb-tek or Wild Goose, who was a very quiet and clever fellow and never quarreled with anyone and was not regarded as a powerful warrior. Now the chief had a dream in which he saw a great giant, who

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stood before the mouth of the Giant Witch’s cave and was so tall that he reached from the earth to the sky, and he said that all that was necessary to do to destroy the Giant Witch was to have some young woman to entice him out of his cave when he would lose his power and that he, the giant, would then kill him. The Chief Hass-ag-wauk told his dream to the witch Wabb-tek, Wildgoose, and ordered him to do as he had been told to do in the dream. Now the Wild-goose had for his poohegan Mickum-wiss or a Fairy, who changed himself into a beautiful young woman and went to the mouth of the cave and got up into a large hemlock tree and sang a song: “Come to me young man! Come hear my sweet song! Come out this beautiful evening—come on this beautiful mountain Come see the leaves so red!” The Giant Witch soon heard the singing and came to the mouth of the cave, and was so fascinated by the singing that he came out of the cave and saw a very beautiful young woman up in the tree who said to him, “Please, kind old man, help me down this tree.” As soon as he came near the tree Glooscup, the great king of all men, dodged from behind the tree and threw his stone hatchet at him and split his head open. Then Glooscup addressed the Giant Witch and told him, “You have been a wicked bad witch and have destroyed nearly all of the Chief Hass-agwauk’s best warriors. Now speak once more and tell what you have done with the bones of your victims.” The Giant Witch replied that in the hollow of that mountain could be found an immense heap of human bones which was all that remained of what were once the great warriors of Hass-ag-wauk’s tribe. As soon as he [the witch] was dead Glooscup summoned together all the beasts of the forest and all the birds of the air to come together and eat the body of the Giant Witch. Then Glooscup ordered the beasts to go into the cave and bring forth the bones of the dead warriors, which they did; then told the birds to take each a bone in their mouths and pile them together at the village of the Chief Hass-agwauk. Then Glooscup ordered the Chief to build a wall of large stones around the heap of bones and cover them with wood and make equnak’n, the hot bath. Then Glooscup set the wood on fire and commenced to sing his magic song. Then he ordered more wood to be put on the fire and water to be poured on the heated stones. Glooscup sang louder and faster until his voice shook the whole village and he ordered the people to close their ears or his voice would kill them.

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The Northeast | The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince

Then Glooscup redoubled his voice and the bones began to move by the heat and began to sizzle and make a peculiar sound. Then Glooscup sang his resurrection song in a low voice. At last the bones began to sing with Glooscup and he sprinkled on more water and the bones came together in their natural places and soon became natural human beings again. The people were amazed at Glooscup’s power and the Chief Hass-ag-wauk gathered all the neighboring tribes together and celebrated the great event with the Resurrection feast which lasted for many days, and the tribe of Chief Hassag-wauk was never troubled by evil witches forever afterwards.

THE DISOBEDIENT BOY WHO BECAME A PRINCE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Speck Frank G. “European Folk-Tales among the Penobscot.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 81–83. Date: 1913 Original Source: Penobscot National Origin: Native American

The following narrative much more closely resembles an ordinary European folktale than it does any Native American tradition. The complex plot combines many common European motifs: “Help from old man” (N825.2). “Tasks assigned suitors with bride as prize for accomplishment” (H335), “Magic Wishing Object” (D1470.1), and “Magic stick beats person” (D1401.1). As a result, the tale illustrates the effects cultural contact within the Northeastern region had on content. The theme of patricide that unites the opening and conclusion of the narrative may well be a comment on the results of European culture’s assimilation of Native Americans.

H

ere camps my story. A young man lived with his parents in a camp in the woods. Nearby there was a mountain which his father told the boy never to cross,

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because trouble would come to him if he did. But one day when the boy was hunting, thinking it no harm, he went across the mountain. Looking around, he saw a new country. Just then a caribou appeared in front of him, and as he was about to shoot it, the Caribou said, “If you shoot me, you will someday kill your father.” But the boy shot. When he had cleaned the meat, he heard the sound of chopping in the distance, and, thinking people were there, went down and found a lot of white men cutting down trees. When he talked with them, he learned that they had come from the king’s country, and had a ship in the harbor, on which they were loading wood. The boy asked if he could go with them, and they gave him a job. When the boat was loaded, they sailed across the sea and landed in the king’s country. Now the boy had only a little money, and so started out to get work. He worked a long while for a man, and at the end of his time the man gave him a penny, and the boy started traveling. Before he had gone far, he met a very old man sitting by the roadside, who begged help of him as he came along. So the boy divided his penny with the old man. “Now,” said the old man, “you have been good to me, you are a good boy, and I will help you. Here are two sticks which will do whatever you tell them to do any time. Take care of them.” With this the old man gave him a pair of sticks carved like a man and a woman. When night came on, the boy stopped at a farmhouse; but, before going to sleep, he made the sticks dance for amusement, and later put them by his bed and told them to keep watch. During the night the farmer and his wife came to rob the boy, and the sticks jumped up and began pounding the farmer and his wife. They did not stop until the farmer promised to give the boy his old white horse. In the morning the boy took the horse and rode on his way. This was a magic horse, and every time he defecated he dropped gold-pieces. The boy got lots of gold, and traveled on. Pretty soon he met another poor old man who begged help from him, and the boy gave him nearly all that he had. Soon bad luck came to him. His horse was stolen. As he went along after this, he had almost nothing, when an old man, like the first one, stopped him and said, “You have been so good to me twice, that this time I will give you this little wagon. Every time you wish anything, get into this wagon, ride around in it, and your wish will be filled. Now, good-by.”

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The Northeast | The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince

Soon the boy got to London in his wonderful wagon, and was riding up and down the streets like some wonderful prince, everybody looking at him. It was only a small wagon, hardly large enough for his foot; but he went very fast. As he rode past the king’s palace, the king’s daughter heard the talk on the street, and looked out of her window to see what was coming by. Now, the boy, when he saw the beautiful girl, pointed his finger at her as he went by in his wagon. It was not long before the princess became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. The king was very angry; but he did not know how to find the child’s father, until he was told that the child was born with a gold apple in its hand. A wise man told the king to call together all the men, and the one to whom the child handed the apple would be its father. The king called all the men of his kingdom to the palace, and all the suitors of the princess were wishing that the baby would hand them the apple; but each one passed by without anything happening, until the boy’s turn came and the baby handed him the apple. The king was very angry to have to let his daughter marry an unknown man. So he declared, that, before the marriage could take place, all the suitors would have to go out in the world and get gold. The one who came home a year from that day, with the most gold, was to have the princess. Now the young man did not know what to do, so, with his little wagon, he strolled down by the water to think. On the shore he saw the hulk of an old boat. Then an idea came to him. He got a friend, and made an arrangement with him to sail to the gold-country and get a load of gold. The friend did not believe he could make the old boat good; but the young man got into his little wagon, rode up and down, and wished the boat a big vessel, and so it was. Together they set sail, and began sailing to the gold-country. Before long a great storm came up, and water came into the boat. They expected to sink, and the boy’s friend sat down crying. “Never mind,” said the young man, “we will get through all right.” And he began riding up and down the deck, wishing for a crew, until he had enough to handle the boat and ride out the storm. For a year they were gone, and he wished the boat full of gold to the gunwales. Upon the day set for the return, the other suitors came home, with different amounts of gold, and anchored in the harbor. The king was very glad to see that the Indian boy had not yet come, and hoped that he was lost. But at the last minute the boy and his boat, the largest of all and filled to the top with gold, came along. Now the king was angry, and began to plan how he could kill the boy before the marriage. Then an invitation came from the boy for the king to come aboard

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and see the gold. The king took some soldiers with him and went, hoping to get a chance to kill him. But the boy was wise, and planned with his own men so that the king should stumble and fall when he tried to get aboard the stairway to the ship. When the king started to come up, they tripped him, and as he was about to fall into the water and drown, the boy dragged him out. Now, the king was glad to have his life saved. That day, when all the suitors showed their gold, the boy had more than all put together, and so was married to the princess and lived in the castle with his wife and son. So he became a prince, but he used to love to go away for weeks at a time, hunting in his old way. One time, while away hunting, his mother and father arrived from across the sea to visit him. They had heard of his great success. They arrived while he was gone, and the king put them to sleep in the prince’s bedroom. The young prince came home one night suddenly, and went to his bedroom. He heard some people talking in his bed, and listened. He thought there was some man sleeping with his wife, and he drew his sword and cut at the man in the bed. Then he discovered that it was his own father he had killed, as the Caribou had said. Here it ends.

THE THREE BROTHERS AND THE HAG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Conant, L. “English Folktales in America: The Three Brothers and the Hag.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 143–44. Date: 1827 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

“The Three Brothers and the Hag” is an example of a highly formulaic ordinary folktale. Formulaic elements include a quest attempted by three brothers with only the youngest of the three succeeding, the verba-

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The Northeast | The Three Brothers and the Hag

tim repetition the hag’s dialogue on three occasions, and the pivotal motif of “Kind and unkind” (Q2). With this motif, only the last brother performs a service for strangers during his quest, and the strangers ultimately assure his success.

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nce upon a time there were three brothers who lived together. They were very poor. One day one of them said: “I will go and try to make my fortune.” He went and traveled about for a long time. Finally he reached a house in which an old woman lived. He asked, “May I stay here over night?” She said, “Yes, come in.” He entered. She showed him to the room in which he was to rest and he soon went to sleep. During the night he heard a noise. He arose and crept softly to a chink through which he saw a light shining. Then he saw the old crone sitting at a table and counting heaps of money which she kept hidden in her house. He crept back to bed and listened to the clinking of the money. Soon he heard the old woman snoring, and when everything was quiet, he ran and searched for the treasure. He found it and carried it away. While he was running to get far away from the old woman, he came to a meeting-house. The meeting-house said: “Sweep me.” “No,” said he, “I cannot stay.” He walked on and soon he came to a field which said, “Weed me.” “No,” said he, “I have no time,” and went on. Soon he came to a well which said: “Clean me.” “No,” said he, “I cannot stay.” He went on. At noon he came to a field in which there was a tree. He sat down under the tree and counted the money. When the crone awoke and found both the treasure and the young man whom she had allowed to sleep under her roof gone, she went to pursue them. She passed the meeting-house and asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?”

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The meeting-house replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and passed the field, which she asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The field replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and came to the well. She asked the well: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The well replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and finally reached the field. There she found the boy asleep under the tree. She cut off his head, took her treasures and carried them back home. After some time the second boy said: “I will go and try to make my fortune.” He went and traveled about for a long time. Finally he reached a house in which an old woman lived. He asked, “May I stay here over night?” She said, “Yes, come in.” He entered. She showed him to the room in which he was to rest and he soon went to sleep. During the night he heard a noise. He arose and crept softly to a chink through which he saw a light shining. Then he saw the old crone sitting at a table and counting heaps of money which she kept hidden in her house. He crept back to bed and listened to the clinking of the money. Soon he heard the old woman snoring, and when everything was quiet, he ran and searched for the treasure. He found it and carried it away. While he was running to get far away from the old woman, he came to a meeting-house. The meeting-house said: “Sweep me.” “No,” said he, “I cannot stay.” He walked on and soon he came to a field which said, “Weed me.”

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The Northeast | The Three Brothers and the Hag

“No,” said he, “I have no time,” and went on. Soon he came to a well which said: “Clean me.” “No,” said he, “I cannot stay.” He went on. At noon he came to a field in which there was a tree. He sat down under the tree and counted the money. When the crone awoke and found both the treasure and the young man whom she had allowed to sleep under her roof gone, she went to pursue them. She passed the meeting-house and asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The meeting-house replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and passed the field, which she asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The field replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and came to the well. She asked the well: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag, With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The well replied: “You will find him in yonder field under a tree counting his money.” She went on and finally reached the field. There she found the boy asleep under the tree. She cut off his head, took her treasures and carried them back home. After some time the third boy said: “I will go and try to make my fortune.” He went and traveled about for a long time.

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Finally he reached a house in which an old woman lived. He asked, “May I stay here over night?” She said, “Yes, come in.” He entered. She showed him to the room in which he was to rest and he soon went to sleep. During the night he heard a noise. He arose and crept softly to a chink through which he saw a light shining. Then he saw the old crone sitting at a table and counting heaps of money which she kept hidden in her house. He crept back to bed and listened to the clinking of the money. Soon he heard the old woman snoring, and when everything was quiet, he ran and searched for the treasure. He found it and carried it away. While he was running to get far away from the old woman he came to a meeting-house. The meeting-house said: “Sweep me.” It was a large meeting-house, and he knew it would take a long time to sweep it. Nevertheless, he stopped, and swept and cleaned it carefully. Then he went on. He came to a field which said: “Weed me.” It was a large field, and although he knew that it would take him a long time to weed it, he stopped and weeded the whole field. He went on and came to a well which said: “Clean me.” Although he was afraid that the old woman would overtake him, he stopped and cleaned it thoroughly. He went on. At noon he came to a field in which there was a tree. He sat down under the tree and counted his money. When the crone awoke and found all her treasure and the young man, whom she had allowed to sleep under her roof, gone, she went to pursue him. She passed the meeting-house and asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” The meeting-house did not reply, but threw stones at her and had almost killed her. It was all she could do to get away. She came to the field and asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?”

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The Northeast | Rusty Jack

But the field made a cloud of dust and stones which drifted into her face and almost blinded her. It was all she could do to get away. She went on and came to the well. She asked: “Have you seen a boy With a wig, with a wag With a long leather-bag, Who stole all the money Ever I had?” Then the water in the well began to rise and to overflow. It took her down into the well, where she was drowned. The boy went home with his treasure, and lived happily ever after.

RUSTY JACK Tradition Bearer: Della Miller Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 314–17. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: Anglo American

The tale of “Rusty Jack” appears to be a variant of AT1535, particularly the episodes of the narrative categorized as “Magic Cowhide.” Another variant of the tale appears elsewhere in this collection as “Lazy Jack and His Calfskin” (Vol. II, pp. 115). “Rusty Jack” differs from “Lazy Jack and His Calfskin,” which would be considered a more typical variant, in that the present tale uses a tame crow as a “fortune teller” and Rusty Jack discovers a wealthy bride for himself rather than a case of adultery.

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O

nce upon a time there lived a rich farmer who had three sons. The elder two boys, James and Mark, were thrifty, hard-working lads; but the youngest, Rusty Jack, as he was called, because he wore such old and rusty clothes, was neither so strong nor so good-looking as his brothers. So he was laughed at by them, and considered a trial by his father. When the father came to die, he left all his houses and lands to James and Mark; while to Rusty Jack he left nothing but a good-for-nothing old ox, just ready to die. Sure enough, the day after the father’s funeral, when Rusty Jack went out to the barn to feed his ox, he found it lying dead. James and Mark laughed at him about his luck, and told him they now thought it was time that he set about earning his own living. How he was to do this Rusty Jack did not know, for he had never done a day’s work in his life. But he knew he could no longer stay at home; so he skinned his ox, hung the skin over his shoulder, and set out in his rusty old clothes to seek his fortune. Near sundown he became so tired that he felt he could not go another step; so he lay down to rest on the ground beside the road, throwing over him the ox-hide, with the flesh side outside He was just about falling asleep when a loud cawing above his head startled him; and before he could raise himself up, a flock of crows alighted upon the hide and fell to pecking at the raw meat of the hide. They all did this but one, which cocked his head on one side, and, looking at Jack, cried, “Halloo, Jack! Halloo, Jack!” Then Rusty Jack knew that he had found a pet crow which he had lost more than a year before. The crow was as glad to see Jack as Jack was to find the crow; and when Jack put out his hand, calling, “Halloo! Come to Jack!” the crow allowed himself to be caught. Jack was so overjoyed at finding his pet, that he forgot all about his aches and pains. He put a cord about the crow’s leg, perched him on one shoulder, threw the ox-hide over the other, and again set forth in search of his fortune. Presently coming to a wood-chopper’s hut in the midst of the forest, he saw a bright light shining from one of the windows, and peeped in. There, before the fireplace, he saw a table set with delicious meats, cakes, wine, and honey; and, more than that, at the table sat two women eating. One looked as though she might be the wood-chopper’s wife; but the other was a wonderfully beautiful young lady, with long golden hair, and jewels about her neck, a princess, maybe. Jack couldn’t imagine who she could be, but thought that he had never before seen anyone half so beautiful. As he stood gazing, he forgot all about the crow; and the crow, not liking that, called out, “Jack, Jack!” That frightened the women so, that they snatched

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The Northeast | Rusty Jack

the food off the table and threw it, tablecloth and all, into a chest which stood in one corner of the room. Then they took a big crock which stood near the fireplace, and, removing a few bricks from the floor, placed the crock in a hole which seemed to have been made for it. Quickly replacing the bricks, the beautiful young lady concealed herself under the valence of the bed, which stood in a corner of the room. The wood-chopper’s wife flew about, putting on the table mush and milk for her husband’s supper, then disappeared up the ladder which led to the loft. Jack was so hungry that he thought he would go in and help himself to the food in the chest; but, before he had time to get anything out, the wood-chopper came in. “Whom have we here?” cried he, amazed, as he saw a stranger making himself at home in his hut. “Nobody but a poor hungry traveler,” replied Jack. “Well, if you are so hungry, draw up and have some mush and milk with me,” said the man. “You have a tame crow there, I see. Does he happen to be a talking crow?” “That he does,” answered Jack, a bright idea coming into his head. “Halloo!” said he to the bird. “Halloo, Jack!” croaked the crow. The wood-chopper was delighted. “Can he say anything else?” he asked. “Oh, yes!” said Jack, “he is a fortune-telling crow. Tell the wood-chopper what is in yonder chest.” With that, Jack pinched one of the crow’s toes, whereupon the poor bird cried out, “Caw, caw, caw!” “He says there is meat and cake and wine and honey in the chest,” explained Jack. The wood-chopper laughed. “Why, how can that be, when we are so poor we hardly have enough to eat?” “I don’t know,” said Jack, “but my crow always speaks the truth. You had better look and see.” So the wood-chopper went to the chest, and, lifting the cover, peeped in. To his amazement, he found it just as the crow had said. After he had lifted out the good things, he and Jack feasted as they had never done before. After they had eaten all they could hold, the wood-chopper said, “I should like your bird to tell me some other piece of good news; can he?” “I think so,” answered Jack. “I think he can tell you where a treasure lies hidden, if you will agree to give me half of it.” “I’ll do that,” laughed the wood-chopper, never dreaming that the crow knew any more about where a treasure lay buried than he did.

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Thereupon Jack again tweaked the crow’s toe; and again he squawked, “Caw, caw, caw!” “He says,” explained Jack, “that if you will take up the nine bricks before the middle of the fireplace, you will find a treasure-crock.” “A treasure-crock!” shouted the wood-chopper. “What on earth is that? How could there be any treasure buried before the fireplace when I laid every brick with my own hands?” “But why not look?” asked Jack. “I’ve never known my crow to tell a lie.” And after a little Jack persuaded the wood-chopper to lift up the bricks, when, sure enough, he uncovered a huge crock. His hands trembled so that he could hardly lift the cover off; but when he did, such a sight as met his eyes! Jewels, gold and silver trinkets, and gold coin! More than he had believed existed in the whole world. “There!” exclaimed Jack, “will you believe my crow next time?” “I will; and I will give you half of the treasure for him, then I can go on finding other fortunes.” “Oh, I couldn’t sell him, for I expect him to find me a wife and to earn enough to take care of us both; but I have left outside an ox-hide which will be worth much more to you than the crow. It was with that I caught him from out a whole flock of talking crows. All you have to do is to lie down beside the road and throw the hide over you, flesh side outside, and more fortune-telling crows will alight on you than you will know what to do with. Then you can make them find fortunes for you, and sell them for great sums of money.” “So I could,” said the wood-chopper. “I’ll give you my half of the treasure for the hide.” Then Jack filled his pockets with his riches, and tied the rest into his big pocket-handkerchief. “Now,” said he to the crow, “before I go further, I am rich enough to marry me a wife. Where is there a beautiful lady who will marry me?” Again he pinched the crow’s toes; and again the bird squawked, “Caw, caw, caw!” “He says under the valance of the kitchen bed,” explained Jack. “That’s a lie,” quoth the wood-chopper; but just the same he looked under the bed, and, sure enough, there was a beautiful young lady. “Come out, come out!” coaxed Rusty Jack, “and I will marry you.” “Oh, will you?” cried the young lady. “That’s what I’ve been looking for, a husband. The robbers came to my father’s house and killed my father and brothers; and I barely managed to escape with a little of my father’s wealth on one of his horses. If you will go back with me and help me to bury my father and brothers, I will marry you and give you my father’s large estate.”

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The Northeast | Three Men of Galway

“With all my heart will I do that! And we’ll keep the crow, for he will be able to get us out of any trouble we may get into.” By this time the wood-chopper’s wife came down from the loft; and they all had supper together, Jack and the wood-chopper eating as though they had eaten nothing for a year. In the morning Jack and the beautiful young lady set out to visit her father’s estate and to bury her father and brothers; while the wood-chopper started in the opposite direction with the ox-hide, to procure for himself a flock of talking crows.

THREE MEN OF GALWAY Tradition Bearer: Irish maid Source: Michaelis, Kate Woodbridge. “An Irish Folktale.” Journal of American Folklore 23 (1910): 425–28. Date: 1910 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Irish American

“Three Men of Galway,” like the tale of “Rusty Jack” is another variant of AT1535. In this more complex Irish version of the tale, the trickster dupes not only a series of tradesmen for his own ends, but he avenges himself on his tormentors, two elder cousins. As is typical of these plots, the trickster figure uses both his wits and others’ weaknesses—primarily greed in this narrative—to improve his fortune. The tie between tradition bearer and tale is established by the closing comment, “but the rest of his family went over to America.”

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ver beyant, on the road to Galway, there were three cabins that stood side by side, each the same as all the rest; and in them lived three cousins, with their three mothers and their three cows. Times was hard then in Ireland, and has been since, and the cousins had to work hard to put

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bread in their stomachs and breath in their bodies; so one day the eldest cousin says to the others, “Let us drive our cows to market and sell them for a good price, and be rich then!” and the others agreed. Now, it chanced that the youngest cousin’s cow was very lean entirely, the smallest and poorest of all the cows in the land; and as the three walked together, the other two said teasing words to him, because it was little his cow would bring in the market. At last the youngest cousin got vexed indeed, and says he to his cousins, “Go you to the market with your large and fine cows, me and my cow will bide here. I will kill her and sell the hide and tallow.” So he bided, and the others went on. Well, after he was tired of being vexed, he up and killed his little cow, and began to strip the hide off her carcass. While he worked—and mind you, it was not the nicest of work, who should come hopping along but a big magpie, head on one side, looking wise indeed. “Peck-peck!” says he, like any human, for he caught a smell of the blood; so up he hopped on the hide to see what it was all about; and immediate the youngest cousin whipped over the hide, master Magpie inside, and started for the nearest tavern, hide and bird under his arm. When he got to the tavern, in he marched, bold as you please, calling out for a nip of whiskey to stay his stomach, for it was near to starving the poor boy was. So the barmaid—she was the daughter of the host—she looked him over, and, seeing that he was dressed the poorest and had naught with him but a bundle of bloody hide, just served him with the worst but one of the whiskeys of the world. As soon as the cousin got the taste of it on his tongue, he put his foot on the bundle of hide, and the magpie within screeched out loud. “And what’s that?” says the girl. “‘Tis my magpie, warning me,” says the cousin. “And what is he after warning you?” says the girl. “He’s warning me of the poorness of the whiskey,” says he. So the girl, not believing him at all, nodded her head to herself, and put before him the one other whiskey that could be worse. Now, the minute he smelled of it, down came the cousin’s foot as hard as might be, and loud screeched out the poor craythur below. “And this is poorer still, he tells me,” says the youngest cousin. “Faith, and it’s right he is,” says the girl. So she ran and called her father, who came, all in a hurry, to see the bird that was telling tales on his whiskeys. When he had talked with the cousin, and the bird had cocked the bright eye at it, nothing would suit him but he must own it; so he offered money for it, till at

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The Northeast | Three Men of Galway

last the youngest cousin went off with his pockets full of gold, and the bird biding behind at the tavern. When the two older cousins came back from the market, it was long faces they had, for never a one had asked to buy their cows, and they were foot-sore and weary. When they saw the youngest cousin sitting by his door and counting over his gold, they were dumb-struck. When they could get breath to question him, he boasted that he had killed and stripped his cow, rolled a magpie in its hide, and taken it to the public-house, where he had sold it to the landlord for all that gold. “And is it buying bloody magpies he is?” asked the cousins. “Faix, and it is,” says he. As soon as morning comes, up gets the two cousins, kills their fine fat cows, strips them, catches two magpies, wraps them in the skins, and hurries off with them to the nearest inn. Then, of course, the landlord just laughs in their faces, and when they talk back, drives them out with hard words. Home they came, pocket-empty, and vexed indeed with the youngest cousin. Now, it chanced that he, hiding safe from them, heard the threats they made. So when the night came, he coaxed his old mother to sleep in his bed, and himself got well into the chimney. In came the two cousins, creeping easy, fell upon the poor mother, who was the aunt of the two of them, heaven rest her soul! and left her cold and dead. Up came the youngest cousin out of the chimney, fixed up his mother in her best clothes all fine, and carried her on his back to the house of a farmer who had the best well in all the country round. As it was early, he propped his old mother against the well, her back to the house, and when it was light, went to the door and asked to buy wine for himself and for her. “It’s bashful she is,” says he to the daughter of the farmer, “and never a step will she come into the house. Go you out with the wine and give it to her. It’s hard of hearing she is,” says he, “so you must pinch her and shake her well if she does not turn round.” Out went the girl with the wine, called loud, bellowed, then, at the last, up and shook her good, when into the well, head and heels, went she. At that the girl she ran away screaming out; and when she did not come back, the youngest cousin went out and found his mother deep in the well. And the storming of the man! Crying out and stomping his feet, and saying that it was all the mother he had in the world! At this came out the farmer and gave him all the gold he had in the house to stop his noise, lest the people going by should hear it. And the farmer took the old woman out of the well that very day, for fear she should spoil the water; for it was a very good well, that was.

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When the two cousins got up next morning, who should they see but the youngest cousin with a great bag of gold. “And how come you alive?” said they, well vexed. “Faix,” says he, “it was my mother you killed, and I’ve been to the village beyant and sold her for all this gold. It’s a great price they are paying for old hags for gunpowder,” says he. So the two of them lost no time in killing their mothers, put them in bags, and hurried off to the village, calling out, loud, “Old hags for gunpowder! Old hags for gunpowder!” and then the people were quite mad with them. They fell upon them and beat them, and shut them up in the jail, for killing of their mothers, nice tidy old dames that they were! Well, after they got out again, they came home; and there they found the youngest cousin living on the best to be had, and they didn’t like it at all, at all. It was a great deal they said to him about the lot of trouble he had given them; and they were so vexed at him, that he saw he had best beware. So he kept far away from them. But one day he was searching after rabbits, which he well liked for his supper, and had just caught two, when he saw the two cousins after him; and before he could hide from them, they were upon him, had him tied, and in a bag, ready to put an end to him. But just as they were tying the bag, he managed slyly to break the foot of each rabbit he had caught, one the left, and the other the right, and let them go free; and off they scutted, one to the right and the other to the left. Now, the two cousins also liked well, rabbits for supper; and, having the youngest cousin fast tied, they left him there in the bag, and off they ran, chasing the rabbits. Now, it chanced well for the youngest cousin that while they were pursuing of the woods in search of the rabbits, along came a jobber, driving a herd of cattle to the fair; and he heard the youngest cousin in the bag singing out gay that he was going to heaven, for he had heard the jobber going by. The jobber, he was having a hard time, poor man! And he had heard that heaven was a fine place. “And how do you get there?” says he to the cousin in the bag. “Get you into this bag, and I will show you,” says the youngest cousin. So the jobber cut the strings of the bag, and out leapt the cousin and put the jobber in the bag in his place, tied fast the strings, and bid him wait for the angels to carry him straight to heaven. Then home went the youngest cousin by the shortest road, driving the herd of cattle before him. After a bit, came back the two cousins, with no rabbits and bad in their tempers, picked up the bag, and threw it, man and all, into a hole without a bottom, and went home. And, behold! When they turned the corner, there was the

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The Northeast | Nobleman and His Cook

youngest cousin, large as life, and a great deal more natural, smoking his pipe after the milking of his new cows. And beside his stool was the bag of gold the jobber had left behind him on the ground. “And is it out of the hole you are?” says they, hardly trusting to their eyesight. “It is, indeed,” says he, “and it’s much obliged to you I am for putting me in. Mind that gold now!” “And where did you get it?” said they. “In the bottom of the hole,” says he, “and it’s many a bag I had to leave behind me when I climbed out. There was but two I had time for; and one I gave to a jobber passing by, for a fine herd of cattle that was just after eating its supper in the field beyant.” Then the two cousins, they just fell on his neck, and they said they would forgive him everything, and never kill him again, if he would but tell them how to get to that hole, for the way had gone clean out of their minds. So off the three went, side by side, as pleasant as you please; and when they came to the hole, “One at a time!” says the youngest cousin; so he tied the eldest cousin well into a bag, and pitched him into the hole. But when he could find no bottom to it, he began to cry out and to curse. “Faix, and what may that noise be?” says the middle cousin. “It’s our cousin crying out for joy at the bags of gold,” says the youngest cousin; then the middle cousin ran quick to the bag and got in without help, he was so feared that the eldest cousin would get the biggest share of the gold. Then the youngest cousin tied him up well and pitched him down into the well. And there the two of them are to this very day. But the youngest cousin took his pick of the three cabins, and he married a fine wife and had plenty of children, and money to spare for every one of them; and when he died, he left a cabin apiece to three of them, but the rest of his family went over to America, and very likely they are dead by now.

NOBLEMAN AND HIS COOK Tradition Bearer: Anca Vrbooska Source: Swenson, May. “Interview of Anca Vrbooska.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938

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Original Source: New York National Origin: Hungarian American

The following anecdote can be interpreted as a comment on the reality of the power conferred by social conventions. The cook, though a commoner, uses real power to dominate her employer, a nobleman. Thinking that making her his wife will overcome her rebellious nature, the nobleman discovers that, in this case at least, the cook’s quarrelsome character remains unchanged by the marriage vows that have chained him to a shrew. It is possible that the non-noble female tradition bearer achieves vicarious enjoyment from the cook’s continued domination of her noble husband.

T

here was a nobleman in Hungary, who was so much in love with his cook that he would never never eat anywhere else except at home. But as much as he was pleased with her cooking, he was just as much displeased with her temper. Because she really had a vicious temper. Every once in a while, at the slightest provocation, or no provocation, she would just start banging around the pots and pans and the lids and simply declare that that day she’s not going to cook “and you can go out and eat in the restaurant and catch an indigestion!” Moreover, she would even threaten to leave him, leave him for good. So the poor nobleman, being so much in love with her cooking, lived in a constant fear of losing her, and with that the delicious meals she used to prepare for him. Well, this life went on for years, and it wore him out quite a bit, so one day he simply decided that he was going to make an end to her constant threats and tricks, and tie her down so she simply won’t be able to get away from him, and will be forced to cook for him. Of course, he could do this only in one way: by marrying her. And after that, of course, she won’t be able to say to him, “Well, I’m not going to cook today,” or “I’m going to leave you.” The loyal wife will be forced to obey him and cook his meals and that’s all there’s to it!

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The Northeast | The Little Cakeen

So to the great amazement of his other wealthy colleagues (many of them were members in the Hungarian parliament) he married her, willing to face even social ostracism for the sake of a good meal! Well, after the wedding day, as usual, he went out to perform his duties, and noontime, was rushing back, thinking, “Ah, now at least I will find a peaceful home and good food on the table.” He came home, and behold, the stove was unlit, no food on the table. So he goes to his wife and says, “Well,” says he, “what about the food? Didn’t you cook today?” And what did she say? “Would you, the son of a noble family, permit your own wife to do the cooking? From now on I’m through with cooking for good, and if you want to eat, you better get for us a cook!”

THE LITTLE CAKEEN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kittredge, George Lyman. “English Folktales in America.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 291–92. Date: 1889 Original Source: New Hampshire National Origin: Anglo American

This cumulative tale is an example of AT2025 (“The Fleeing Pancake”), which develops its action by adding an additional detail that must be added at each repetition of a basic plot element. Fox, again the trickster, presents a contrast to the other pursuers by using his wits to gain the prize.

O

nce upon a time there was a little maneen and a little womaneen; and the little womaneen made a little cakeen and put it in the oven to bake. And the little maneen stood at one side of the oven, and said the little cakeen was done; and the little womaneen stood at the other side and

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said it wasn’t. And while they were quarrelling about it, the little cakeen jumped out of the oven and ran off; and the little maneen and the little womaneen ran after it. Pretty soon the little cakeen came to a little pusheen, and the little pusheen said, “Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?” And the little cakeen said: “I’m running away from the little maneen, I’m running away from the little womaneen, and now I’ll run away from you.” So the little pusheen ran after it. Then it came to a little dogeen, and the little dogeen said, “Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?” And the little cakeen said: “I’m running away from the little maneen, I’m running away from the little womaneen, I’m running away from the little pusheen, and now I’ll run away from you.” So the little dogeen ran after it. Then it came to a little coween, and the little coween said, “Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?” And the little cakeen said: “I’m running away from the little maneen, I’m running away from the little womaneen, I’m running away from the little pusheen, I’m running away from the little dogeen, and now I’ll run away from you.” So the little coween ran after it. Then it came to a little heneen, and the little heneen said, “Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?” And the little cakeen said: “I’m running away from the little maneen, I’m running away from the little womaneen, I’m running away from the little pusheen, I’m running away from the little dogeen, I’m running away from the little coween, and now I’ll run away from you.” So the little heneen ran after it. Then it came to a little foxeen, and the little foxeen said, “Where are you going so fast, little cakeen, on those little legs of yours?” And the little cakeen answered, “I’m running away from the little maneen, I’m running away from the little womaneen, I’m running away from the little pusheen, I’m running away from the little dogeen, I’m running away from the little coween, I’m running away from the little heneen, and now I’ll run away from you.” But the little foxeen said: “Oh! don’t do that, little cakeen; I will show you where to hide.” So the little cakeen said, “All right!” So the little foxeen said: “Jump upon my tail,” and the little cakeen jumped on his tail. Then the foxeen said: “jump on my back,” and the little cakeen jumped on his back. Then the little foxeen said: “Jump on my head,” so the little cakeen jumped on his head. Then the little foxeen said: “Now jump in my mouth.” So the little cakeen jumped into his mouth, and he ate it all up!

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The Northeast | Outwitting the King

OUTWITTING THE KING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wilson, Howard Barrett. “Notes of Syrian Folk-Lore Collected in Boston.” Journal of American Folklore 16 (1903): 142–44. Date: 1903 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Syrian American

The following ordinary folktale was collected in the Syrian immigrant community of Boston, known during the early twentieth century as “Little Syria.” At the time the tale was collected, the population was about one thousand persons distributed over a district of approximately half a square mile. This tale is only one of the many oral and customary traditions preserved within the community. “Outwitting the King” may have maintained its vitality in the community because of the ways in which it reflects what had been the Syrian American’s plight under Turkish oppression. The narrative provides vicarious satisfaction by the manner in which, through clever perseverance, the protagonist prevails over the cruel and arbitrary ruler.

I

n the times of the Califate there lived in Baghdad a great poet, named Abu’n-Nuwâ’s. One cold and stormy evening, as a body of friends were sitting about the king discussing matters, the king, desiring to make a little merriment, said, “I will give thousands of pounds to him who will sit naked on the roof of the palace all night.” Abu’n-Nuwâ’s said, “I’ll do it,” and straightway removed his clothes, and because he was poor and in need of the money, went up and sat on the roof all night. He suffered much. The wind the whole night long bit his flesh, but the remembrance of the promised gold encouraged him, so that he endured minute by minute. In the morning he was badly frozen and could not move. At last the king sent one of his body-guards to see what had happened to the poet. He brought Abu’n-Nuwâ’s down nearly dead, and they worked over

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him a long time before he opened his eyes. After he had clothed himself he waited impatiently for the reward, but the king, before giving him the gold, asked, “What did you see in the night, Abu’n-Nuwâ’s?” He replied that he had seen nothing all night, and described to the king the bitter cold and the rain. He said, however, that in the early gray of the morning he had seen far, far away a tiny light, but that that was all he had seen. The king was angered and said, “I shall not give you anything, for you have warmed yourself by that light.” Abu’n-Nuwâ’s pleaded, but to no purpose, for the king wished to make fun of the poet. It was hard for Abu’n-Nuwâ’s, after suffering such pain, to be deprived of the reward, and he determined that someday he would get revenge, and even perchance the reward too. A whole year passed, and the king had forgotten all about the affair. One day Abu’n-Nuwâ’s came, and invited the king to take dinner with him out in his country garden. The king accepted, for he thought it would be very pleasant to honor the poet, and also he was interested to hear his poetry. In the early morning of the appointed day the king and the queen, accompanied by their knights and pages, went to the garden of Abu’n-Nuwâ’s, expecting to be feasted on the most delicious food and the choicest wine. They sat down under the trees, and Abu’n-Nuwâ’s sang and played for them. There was an abundance of poetry and music there, but nothing to eat or drink. Yet no one ventured to mention refreshments, each thinking that the next moment they would be invited to the repast. Nothing, however, was prepared. Again and again Abu’n-Nuwâ’s sang and played, and all his maidens and slaves, also, danced and sang. Of that the king had enough, for it was growing late in the afternoon, and he could endure his hunger no longer. Accordingly he called Abu’n-Nuwâ’s to him, and said, “O wicked one that brought us here, and filled us with music and poetry, but wished us to die of hunger!” Abu’n-Nuwâ’s bowed humbly, and replied, “Your Majesty, the food is not cooked yet, but is on the fire.” After an hour the king asked the same question with more bitterness, and Abu’n-Nuwâ’s again replied, “Your Majesty, the food is still on the fire.” Then the king, and all his retinue, was very angry, and was about to kill Abu’n-Nuwâ’s. But Abu’n-Nuwâ’s said, “Come, Most High King, and let me show thee that the pots are on the fire.” He then led the way to another part of the garden, and there, indeed, were the pots hanging from the highest branches of a tree. On the ground beneath them there was a blazing fire, but no heat could reach the pots, only smoke. Then the king was very angry. “O wicked slave, most ignorant one,” cried he, “do you suppose that the food will be cooked when the fire is so very far from it?”

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The Northeast | Tim Murphy’s Escape

“Your Majesty,” replied Abu’n-Nuwâ’s, “if pots cannot be boiled, nor even warmed by such a great fire as this, how could I, naked, on such a very cold night, be warmed by seeing a tiny light miles and miles away?” The king laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Then Abu’n-Nuwâ’s immediately ordered tables to be made ready, and a fine feast was spread, for everything had been prepared beforehand, and hidden away. They all ate and drank in merriment, and the king gave the thousands of pounds he had formerly promised to the poet, and made no more fun of him, for Abu’n-Nuwâ’s was too clever for the king.

TIM MURPHY’S ESCAPE Tradition Bearer: Alonzo Parsiow Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 305. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: Irish American

Although tall tales routinely cast local characters in the roles of protagonist or antagonist, investigation generally proves that most of these narratives are in wide traditional circulation and have been subjected to the processes of localization. In the case of “Tim Murphy’s Escape,” a local hero of the Revolutionary War was adopted as the central figure of an internationally known tale of lying (AT1882.)

O

ne autumn Tim Murphy with his large family left his home in the valley for a winter residence on the mountain-top, whence he could more easily command the movements of his Indian enemies. When it came time in the spring to sow wheat on his valley farm, Tim started to go down the mountain, with a drag on one shoulder and seven skipple of wheat on the other. Suddenly a party of Indians burst out of the brush. There was no hope of escape for Murphy, except to leap from a precipitous cliff which projected from part of the summit. So, without stopping to think twice or to say his prayers, burdened

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as he was, he took the leap, and struck upon a projecting cliff a hundred feet below. So great was the force with which he landed, that he sank into the rock up to his knees. The Indians, supposing him killed, made no attempt either to follow him or to await his coming in the valley. Murphy, keeping still until he was quite sure that he had nothing to fear from them, went down into the valley, where he borrowed a pick and shovel, and came back and dug himself out. Then he went about his business unmolested, and put in a crop which yielded him eighty skipple for every one he put in.

YOU HEAR A LOT OF THEM THINGS The following set of tall tales focuses on the nature of life in rural Wayne and Mercer Counties in Pennsylvania during the early twentieth century. Audiences of novices (“The Bear Ate Me”) and of outsiders (“The Log Snake” [AT1960]) are the special prey of “liars.” “No Time to Lie” is a variant of one of the all time classics of the genre (AT1920B).

Tradition Bearer: Leo Coddington Source: Halpert, Herbert. “Pennsylvania Fairylore and Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 58 (1945): 130–33. Date: 1941 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: European American

The Bear Ate Me

H

e (dad) tells one about goin’ fishin’ one time, and he sat on a log run out into the lake. And he was sittin’ there fishin’ away, and after a while he heard a noise. He turned around to see what it was. Big black bear! He couldn’t swim—couldn’t jump in the lake and swim—nor he couldn’t return back up the log—the bear was obstructin’ his path. He used to tell that to the kids, and they’d say, “What’d you do?” And he’d say, “I just set there and let the bear eat me up.” You hear a lot of them damn things like that, just jokes.

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The Northeast | You Hear a Lot of Them Things

The Log Snake

D

ad used to tell the boarders. They’d ask if there was any snakes in that part o’ the country, and he’d say, “Nothin’ only now and then a large snake.” Said he went down there to the lake one time on a picnic. Set down to his dinner on a mossy log. He had cucumbers in his pocket. He used his jack knife to peel the cucumbers, and he stuck the jack knife in the log beside him. Next thing he knew, the log crawled away with him. It was a big snake.

No Time to Lie

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es Wilcox down in Lookout, he was a noted liar. Everybody in the country knew he was a liar. The men used to laugh about that when they were workin’ on the road with the teams. So they was drivin’ along the road and met this man and said to him, “Tell us a lie without stopping to think.” He says, “Go on, go on, I haven’t got time. John Ewain just died and I’m going after the undertaker.” Kept right on going. And the men they asked all the neighbors along the road about Ewain being dead. They found out that the liar really could lie without stopping to think. They tell this for a fact down there.

The Popcorn Frosts Tradition Bearer: Albert Peterson Source: Halpert, Herbert. “Pennsylvania Fairylore and Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 58 (1945): 134. Date: 1941 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: European American

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n the meantime, down in Mercer County, Pennsylvania, a farmer had ten acres of ground. Plowed it up, planted it all to popcorn. He harvested his crop all right, and put it in his barn. Well, in the meantime a thunderstorm come up, set his barn on fire, and it made it so damn hot that corn popped and covered the goddamn acre lot with

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popcorn. He had an old white mare thought there was a big snow storm come up, and lay down and froze to death.

THE BIRDS TAKE BACK THEIR FEATHERS; THE INSULT MIDSTREAM; PLAYING DEAD Tradition Bearer: Matheus Dias Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Ten Folktales from the Cape Verde Islands.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 231–35. Date: 1917 Original Source: Rhode Island National Origin: African (Cape Verde)

The following is one of a cycle of trickster tales told by Cape Verde immigrants. The tales are built around the antics of the central characters, Lob (“wolf”) and Tubinh or Subrinh (“nephew”). Like the tale cycles of Bouki and Rabbit, Bouki and Anansi, or Boqui and Lapin found in the Southern United States or the Caribbean (see Vol. II for these trickster cycles), the plots depict the triumph of wit and judgment over strength and passion. As the title given by folklorist Elsie Clews Parsons demonstrates, the tale is a composite of well-known traditional folktale motifs. The original version of this tale is included in the Appendix.

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here was a wolf and a tubinh (“nephew”). There was going to be a dance on an island. Tubinh fooled Lob (“wolf”); he told him how it was a feast, not a dance. Lob asked the birds to give him feathers so he could go to the feast on the island. The birds give him the feathers, he goes to the island, at nine o’clock the dance starts up. Lob is in a temper because it is a dance, not a feast. Lob asks Tubinh, “Is there nothing to eat?” Tubinh answers, “No, this isn’t a feast, it’s a dance.” The first to dance was Crow. Lob, in a passion, begins to sing,

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The Northeast | The Birds Take Back Their Feathers; The Insult Midstream; Playing Dead

“Black Crow! You think you are somebody, You are fine If you were not digging up people’s corn in the ground.” Crow takes from him (wolf) his feather. Next to dance is Manelob (vulture). Lob sings, “Manelob! You think you are somebody, You are fine If you were not on the lookout for dead donkeys and goats to eat.” Manelob takes from him his feather. Next to dance is Bluejay. Lob sings, “Pasadinh’! You think you are somebody. You do not see your own red mouth. If you did not have your mouth, You would be fine.” Bluejay takes from him his feather. Next to dance is Chinchirot’. Lob sings, “And you, Chinchirot’! You think you are somebody, You don’t see your big belly, your (?) leg. Were you not thus, You would be fine.” Chinchirot’ takes from him his feather. Next to dance is Hawk. Lob sings, “And you, Satador! You think you are somebody. If you were not always after people’s chickens, You would be fine.”

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Hawk takes from him the feather he had given him. Next to dance is Guinea-Hen. Lob sings out, “You, Galinh’ de Gine! You think you are somebody; But you don’t see your own measly head. If you didn’t have your head, You would be fine.” Hen takes from him her feather. At six in the morning the dance was over, everybody went home and left Lob on the island. Lob began to cry. Just then there came by Aunt Peix’ Caball’ (“horse-fish,” creature with the head of a horse and the tail of a fish). “What’s the matter with you?” she asks Lob. “The birds loaned me their feathers. I went to the dance, then ... they took their feathers, they went, they left me alone.” Peix’ Caball’ said, “If you were not so bad, I’d carry you to your country.” “If you take me to my country, I’ll pay you well,” promises Lob. “Well, jump on my back!” and the fish began to swim to land. Halfway across, Lob says, “Oh, what big breasts! When I get ashore, I’m going to bite one of them off.” “What’s that you say?” asks Peix’ Caball’. “Nothing, I said you were a swimmer.” As soon as they make the shore, Lob jumps on the ground, tears off the left breast of Peix’ Caball’. Peix’ Caball’ lies crying on the beach. Tubinh passes by, he asks her why she is crying. Peix’ Caball’ says to Tubinh, “I brought Lob across from that island, as soon as we landed he tore off my breast.” “If you pay me something, I’ll put uncle Lob into your hands,” says Tubinh. Aunt Peix’ Caball’ says, “If you put Lob into my hands, I’ll give you whatever you ask.” Tubinh starts for home. He nears the house; he calls out to his wife, “Get a big knife, a wooden plate. We go down to the sea to kill a cow lying there!” Lob was close by; he hears; he says, “Tubinh, that cow is mine, it is not yours. I left her there. If you put a hand on her, I put a shot into you.” Then Lob says to his wife, “Get my big knife, a wooden plate. We are going to the beach!” He reaches the beach, he goes up on Peix’ Caball’ to kill her. Peix’ Caball’ grabs him by the leg, she drags him into the sea. Lob’s wife screams. Lob calls

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The Northeast | Lazy Maria

back to her, “Wife, don’t cry! she is just playing with me, she is not going to do anything.” Peix’ Caball’ dives down with him. They come up. Lob sees his wife still crying. He says, “Don’t cry! She is just playing with me. If she goes to the bottom and doesn’t come up, cry then.” Peix’ Caball’ dives again deeper. Lob is almost choked. He calls to his wife. He says, “Cry, this is the time to cry this is not play.” Peix’ wanted to settle him. She dove with him to the bottom. And that is the end of Nho Lob.

LAZY MARIA Tradition Bearer: Mrs. William Buell. Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 307–10. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: German American

According to folklorist Emelyn Gardner, the tradition bearer comes from a family known for traditional arts such as divination and supernatural healing as well as storytelling. This ordinary folktale embodies the familiar quest images, formulaic elements, contrasts between siblings, and supernatural encounters that mark this genre. The most familiar version of this tale is the Grimms’ “Mother Holle” (AT480).

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nce upon a time there lived a man with three daughters, who, as he thought, were old enough to look out for themselves. So he called them to him, and said, “It is time to go out in the world and seek your fortune. I’ll start the oldest first. Go and see what luck you have in the world!” So the oldest girl took her bundle of clothes tied up in a big kerchief, and away she went. After a while, just as she was beginning to feel hungry, she saw standing right near her a cow. The cow said,

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“Milk me, milk me, or my bag will bust! Milk me, milk me, or my bag will bust!” No sooner had the cow said this, and the girl was wishing for something to milk the cow into, than she espied right near the cow an oven. From it came a voice, which said, “Take me out or I’ll burn up! Take me out or I’ll burn up!” The girl looked inside the oven to see what was talking, and there was a fine loaf of bread. She took it out, dug the centre out of it, and filled the hollow with milk from the cow, then had a meal of bread and milk. She said, “The old man sent me out, and I must be doing well.” After she had eaten all the bread and milk she wanted, she went on her way. Pretty soon she came to an apple-tree full of apples. “Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break! Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break!” said the apple-tree. So the girl shook the tree until her lap was full of apples. When she had eaten all the apples she wanted, she put some in her kerchief and went on her way. Towards dusk she came to a fine-looking mansion, and she thought she would inquire if they (the occupants) wanted anybody to work for them. Seeing a man standing in front of the house, she called out, “Halloo!” “Halloo!” answered the man, who liked the girl’s looks. “Do you want a girl to work for you?” asked the girl. “I think we do need one,” answered the man; “but my master isn’t home tonight, so you had better stay all night. Which door would you like to enter? One is a gold door: if you go in through it, you will be covered from head to foot with gold. The other is a tar door: if you go in through it, you will be covered with tar.” “Oh, I don’t mind!” replied the girl. “I had just as soon be covered with tar as with gold.” “You are so humble, you deserve to go through the golden door.” “I don’t care,” repeated the girl. Thereupon the man led her through the golden door; and the gold clung to her nose, her fingers, her ears, to every part of her, until she was completely covered with gold. When she was well inside the house, the man said, “We have two places where we put those who come here. Will you sleep under the ladder with the cats and dogs, or will you sleep in the high bed with all your gold and glitter?” “I’d just as soon crawl under the ladder with the cats and dogs to sleep in the high bed.” “Being as you are so humble, I’ll put you in the high bed with all your gold and glitter.”

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The Northeast | Lazy Maria

When she reached the room where the high bed was, she saw that everything was of gold. The gold from everything she touched stuck to her, even the golden sheets; and in the morning, with the golden sheets clinging fast to her, she thought she was rich enough to go home. So home she went. When the family saw her coming, her father said, “What! Is that lazy whelp coming back? I’ll get the horse-whip and whip her to death!” The girl, however, as soon as she came near enough to make herself heard, cried out, “O father! I’m rich, rich!” And sure enough, the father had never seen so much gold in his life as he now saw on his daughter. As soon as he touched her, the gold fell off from her to the ground. The father ordered the girl to tell where she had been. When he heard the story, he decided to send the second daughter to try her luck in the same way. The second daughter had precisely the same experiences as her sister, and she too returned home “rich, rich!” Then the father said, “Now for Lazy Maria! She’s never been good for anything yet. Let’s see what she can do!” To her he said, “Even if you are our baby, you must go.” So Lazy Maria took her bundle on her shoulder and started. Soon she came to the cow, which said, “Milk me, milk me, or my bag will bust! Milk me, milk me, or my bag will bust!” “Go along, you old bitch! I don’t care if it does,” replied the girl. Then the voice from within the oven cried out, “Take me out or I’ll burn up! Take me out or I’ll burn up!” “Burn up, then! I won’t touch you. I won’t work when I’m all tired out,” complained the girl, and went on her way. When she came to the apple-tree, it cried, “Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break! Shake me, shake me, or my limbs will break!” “Let your limbs break, then! I sha’n’t shake you,” said the girl, and went on. When she came to the mansion, the man on guard told her of the two doors, and asked her through which she wanted to enter. “I want to go through the golden door,” said the girl. “All right!” and the man pushed her through the tar door. The tar stuck to her hair, filled her eyes, and covered her from head to foot.” “Oh, my father will kill me!” she cried. “Where will you sleep, under the ladder with the cats, or in the high bed?” asked the man. “In the high bed, tar and all,” at once decided the girl. “All right! Creep under the ladder.” And the man pushed her among the cats and dogs. “You must be more humble,” said he, “if you would get on in the world.”

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The next morning the poor girl, all covered with tar as she was, started for home. When the family saw her coming, they rushed out to see the gold; but when they discovered that she was covered with tar instead of gold, they cried, “Let’s whip her!” “Oh, no!” said her father. “Let’s scrub the tar off!” but, scrub as they would, they couldn’t get it off, because, you see, it had been put on by a witch. They scraped and scraped until they scraped the hair off her head, and the skin off her fingers and toes. At last they scraped off one of her warts, and there lay the witch. At that all the tar fell off, and Lazy Maria was free once more. But while her two sisters were rich and could go and come as they liked, Lazy Maria always had to stay at home, poor.

MY SON ALI Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bergen, Fanny D. “Borrowing Trouble.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 55–59. Date: 1898 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Armenian

This western Massachusetts variant, told in the midst of the great meadows over which their rivers meander, describes the girl as sitting on a river bank while she worries over the drowning of her future grandchild. These stories are told in the United States as true, and the incidents are generally supposed to have happened long ago in the same neighborhood. The Armenian storyteller often ends the tale with a formula such as always keeping the larger share of the fruit for himself and doling out the rest to each one of the listeners to whom he points. The narrator looks up suddenly at the end of the tale and lifts his hands as if he sees the fruit descending. When he finishes, the audience clap their hands and laugh. Of course, the kind of fruit and the number varies according to the pleasure of the narrator.

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The Northeast | My Son Ali

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nce upon a time there was a girl whose name was Fatima, who lived with her mother and brother, for her father was dead. Not far from the house there flowed a river. Twice each day, early in the morning and at evening, Fatima took a large copper vessel, and went to the river to bring fresh drinking-water to the house. Early one beautiful morning she went as usual to bring her kettle of fresh water. She sat down under a great mulberry-tree which overhung the river. It was full of ripe fruit which hung far above her head. As she sat there enjoying the beautiful early morning and looking up into the tree laden with fine fruit which she, being a girl, could not reach, since she could not climb the tree, she fell a-thinking. She thought how someday perhaps she would be married and perhaps would have a little son and his name would be Ali, and after a time he would grow to be eight years old, and that then he could go to the river to bring fresh water in the morning. Then she thought how, when Ali had come to the mulberry-tree, he would climb up into the tree to pluck the delicious berries, and how at last the poor little boy would fall from the tree into the river and be drowned. Then Fatima sprang up crying, “Oh! Ali! Ali! My son! My son Ali!” and she ran home crying aloud, “My son Ali, my son Ali is dead!” As she ran along the street the people came out calling to her and asking what was the matter. She did not stop, but ran on crying, “Ali! Ali! My son Ali! My son Ali is dead!” until she reached her own home. Her mother, seeing the water vessel empty, and hearing her daughter crying aloud, said, “What is the matter? Why are you weeping? Why have you brought no freshwater this morning?” Then the girl told her mother how she had sat under the mulberry-tree, and had thought that perhaps someday she would be married and would have a little son and his name would be Ali, and when he had come to be eight years old he would go to draw the water for the family, and he would see the ripe mulberries hanging from the tree and would climb the tree to gather them, and he would fall into the river and be drowned, and again she burst out, “Oh! Ali! My son Ali! My son Ali is dead!” Then the mother also burst out crying, and the two sat there all day lamenting and weeping over the poor, drowned Ali. Late in the afternoon there came to the door begging bread a Chingana woman (gypsy). When she heard the great outcry and saw the two women weeping she asked, “What is the matter?” The mother told her the story, how her daughter had gone to draw water from the river, had sat down under the mulberry-tree, and all that she had imagined,

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how she came home crying, and how ever since they had been grieving over the lost Ali. The gypsy said, “I can tell you about your son, for you know my people can not only read the past and the future, but can see into the other world and tell what is going on there.” “Oh,” cried Fatima, springing up. “Can you give me some word of my son? Where is he? How is he? Is he happy? Is he well? How old is he?” And she stopped crying, and danced, laughing, about the room in expectation of hearing about her dear lost Ali. Then the cunning old Chingana said, “I see your son. He is now about twelve years old. He is not well. He is very poor and hungry. If anyone should give him one piece of bread, he would be so glad that he would jump ten times for joy. He is lying down, faint and weak, wanting food; but if you will give me food I will carry it to him, and soon he will be well and strong.” Then the mother and daughter made themselves very busy preparing food to send by the Chingana woman to little Ali. Fatima hurried out to the shop to buy nuts and fruit. The mother brought some saddle-bags, which they packed with bread and all kinds of delicacies. They also put in clothes that they thought a twelve-year-old boy could wear. By the time that all was ready the saddle-bags were so heavy that the Chingana said she could not carry them. She was very cunning, and as she had entered the house she had seen a fine horse standing in its stall at the side of the house. This horse belonged to Fatima’s brother. The old woman said, “Have you not a horse that you could lend me to ride upon to carry the saddle-bags to your Ali, for he is suffering, and I should hasten to bear your presents to him?” “Yes, yes,” cried Fatima and her mother. “We have a horse,” and they hurried to lead forth the horse to the front of the house. The saddle-bags were placed on the horse, and the old woman mounted and rode away. Not long after she left, Fatima’s brother came home from his work. As he approached the house he heard great crying, for the women had again begun to weep after the departure of the Chingana. The brother heard his sister crying, “Ali! Ali! My son Ali is dead!” He came in, saying, “What is the matter? Where is my horse? Why are you crying like this?” Then Fatima and her mother together told him the sad story, how his sister had gone to the river to draw water, how she had sat under the tree and all she had imagined, and how she had come home crying, and how they were grieving over the poor drowned Ali. But he said, “Where is my horse? Tell me, where is my horse?”

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The Northeast | My Son Ali

Then they told him of the visit of the Chingana, and how they had sent food to Ali, whom she had seen suffering. The brother said, “Tell me quick! Which way did she go?” and he scolded his sister for crying and being so foolish. They pointed out the direction taken by the gypsy woman, and the brother ran on at full speed. In about half an hour he came to a mill. He stopped here, thinking that the miller might give him information about the Chingana woman, who, he felt sure, meant to steal his horse. Now when the Chingana had reached the mill, fearing she might be overtaken, she had stopped and asked the miller to change clothes with her, and to conceal the horse in his stable. The miller was not a very wise man, and consented to do as the Chingana asked; so when Fatima’s brother came to him, the miller was wearing the dress of the old woman as he worked at grinding the corn. The brother quickly spied the horse in a stall underneath the house, and as he talked with the miller, questioning him about the Chingana woman, he said, “Why, you are wearing the dress my sister described. You must have on the clothes of the gypsy.” Just then, lifting his eyes, he saw in a tall tree above him a man looking down. This was the Chingana woman, for after putting on the clothes of the miller she had climbed the tree, hoping to conceal herself in the branches. The brother then told the miller he must confess the whole truth, for he felt sure that he knew all about the thief. After some urging, the miller told him how the Chingana woman had come to him, and asked him to change clothes and to conceal the horse. This he had done, meaning no harm. He then led out the horse, which the brother took possession of, but this did not satisfy him. He said the Chingana woman must go to prison. He bade the woman come down from the tree, but she refused to do this until officers came and commanded her to descend. She was then led away to prison. The brother mounted his horse and returned home. When he reached home the women were still crying. He said to Fatima, “Are you not ashamed to sit here crying and talking of your lost son Ali? You have no son; you are a young girl. You should be ashamed to be so foolish, and to cry aloud about your son Ali.” His words had no effect upon Fatima, who continued to weep and cry aloud. At last the brother drove her out of the house, saying, “You shall no longer live in my house, you foolish girl, who sits crying about your son Ali.” Fatima, weeping, went away to one of the neighbors, with whom she stayed two days. Then she came back, begging her brother’s forgiveness, asking to be allowed to come back to her home, and promising that she would be quiet and gentle as before. She said, “I am sorry that I was so foolish. I did not know what

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I was about. I hope you will forgive me.” This he did, and they lived in peace forever after. I see a small basket coming down from heaven. In it there are twelve pomegranates, five for me, one for you, Josephine, one for you, Pailoun, one for you, Arousyak, one for you, Diran, one for you, Augustina, one for you, Naomi, and one for you, George.

THE FORGETFUL BOY Tradition Bearer: Silvanus Hayward Source: Hayward, Silvanus. “English Folktales in America II.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 292–95. Date: 1890 Original Source: Maine National Origin: Anglo American

“The Forgetful Boy” is an example of a joke. In this case the plot depends not simply on the forgetful boy’s faulty memory—a memory that requires the constant repetition of a simple list—but on bystanders’ misinterpretations of the intent of the series of phrases he is compelled to repeat. See “What Should I Have Said” (AT1696) for the general tale type.

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man had a boy who when he was sent of errands would forget what he was sent for. So one day, when he sent him to the butcher’s to get a sheep’s pluck, to make him remember he told him to keep a saying, “Heart, liver, and lights.” So the boy started, saying, “Heart, liver, ’n’ lights! Heart, liver, ’n’ lights!” By and by he came across a man puking. The man took him and gave him a whipping, and said, “You want I should puke up my heart, liver, and lights, do you?”

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The Northeast | The Forgetful Boy

“No,” said the boy; “what shall I say?” and the man told him to say, “I wish they may never come up!” So the boy went on, saying, “Wish ’ey may never come up! Wish ’ey may never come up!” By and by he came across a man planting beans, and he took and whipped him and said, “You wish my beans should never come up, do you?” The boy said, “No, what shall I say?” “Say, ‘I wish fifty-fold this year and a hundred-fold next.’” So the boy went on, saying, “Wish fifty-fold this year, ’n’ a hundred-fold next! Wish fifty-fold this year ’n’ a hundred-fold next!” By and by he came across a funeral, and they took and whipped him and said, “You wish fifty-fold to die this year and a hundred-fold next, do you?” The boy said, “No, what shall I say?” “Say, ‘I wish they may never die!’” So the boy went on, saying, “Wish ’ey may never die! Wish ’ey may never die!” By and by he came across a man who was trying to kill two dogs, and he took and whipped him and said, “You wish the dogs should never die, do you?” The boy said, “No, what shall I say?” “Say, ‘The dog and the bitch are going to be hanged!’” So the boy went on, saying, “The dog ’n’ the bitch are gon ter be hanged! The dog ’n’ the bitch are gon ter be hanged!” By and by he came across a wedding party, and they took and whipped him and said, “You call us dog and bitch, do you?” The boy said, “No, what shall I say?” “Say, ‘I wish you may live happily together!’” So the boy went on, saying, “Wish y’ may live happily together! Wish y’ may live happily together!” By and by he came across two men who had fallen into a pit, and one of them had got out and was trying to get the other out. And he took and whipped him and said, “You wish we may live happily together in this pit, do you?” The boy said, “No, what shall I say?” “Say, ‘One’s out and I wish the other was out!’” So the boy went on, saying, “One’s out ’n’ I wish t’ other w’s out! One’s out ’n’ I wish t’ other w’s out!” By and by he came across a man with only one eye, and he took and whipped him till he killed him.

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SACRED TALES THE SECRET ROOM Tradition Bearer: Mrs. William Buell Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 310–11. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: German American

The following ordinary folktale is unusual if only because justice is not done at the end of the tale. Perhaps the female protagonist is not held culpable because she is bewitched. The motif of the animal spouse itself, however, is not uncommon.

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nce upon a time there lived a mother with three daughters, whose duty it was to guard the cabbage-patch in front of the cottage in which they lived. One day they were all sitting in the sun, spinning, when they saw a Bull in the cabbage-patch. “Take your distaff and run, child, run!” said the


mother to the eldest daughter. So the girl took her distaff and ran. The Bull ran and she ran, and she ran and the Bull ran, until they came to a great house standing on the edge of a wood. There the Bull gave her a large bunch of keys, and told her that she could go anywhere in the house she liked except one room. He showed her the key to this room, and told her that she must not unlock the door to which it belonged. Then the Bull went away and left her. The girl took the keys and roamed from one beautiful room to another, until she had seen all except the forbidden room. This she wanted to see more than she had any of the others. At last her curiosity became so great that she opened the door and went inside. It was her horror to discover that the room was full of headless bodies hung on all sides. Quickly she locked the door and ran downstairs. But she had some blood on the key, on her hand, and on her shoes. As she was trying the best she knew how to get the blood off, along came a big black Cat, which said to her, “Mew, mew, mew! Give me a dish of bread and milk, and I will tell you how to get the blood off your shoes.” “Go away, you old black thing! I am not going to bother with you.” So the Cat went away, and pretty soon the Bull came. “Let me see your keys!” said he. “How came the blood on this one?” Then he asked to see her hands and her shoes. When he saw blood on them too, he knew that she had disobeyed him; so, as he had done with all the others who had disobeyed him, he cut her head off and hung her body up with the others in the forbidden room. The next day, when the mother and her two remaining daughters again sat spinning in the sun, they again saw the Bull in the cabbage-patch. The mother sent the second daughter just as she had sent the first, and exactly the same things happened to her. The third day the mother and the youngest daughter sat spinning in the sun, when the mother looked up and saw the Bull a third time in the cabbagepatch. “Take your distaff and run, child, run!” cried the mother. So the youngest daughter ran, and the Bull ran. The Bull ran, and she ran until they came to the great house on the edge of the wood. There the Bull gave her a bunch of keys, and told her that she might open every door in the house except the one whose key he showed her. Then the Bull went away. The youngest daughter did just as her sisters had done, and went into all the rooms except the forbidden one. She kept wondering what could be in there, until her curiosity became so great that she unlocked the door and went in. She, too, was so horrified that she quickly shut the door and ran downstairs, but with the telltale blood on the key, on her hand, and on her shoes.

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The Northeast | Dr. B., the Witch Doctor

To her came the big black Cat, who said, “Mew, mew, mew! Give me a dish of bread and milk, and I will tell you how to get the blood off your shoes.” Instead of telling the Cat to go away, as her sister had done, she went and got some bread and milk for him. When the Cat had finished eating, he said, “If you will go into the attic, you will find there a sickle. Take it, rub it on the key, on your hand, and on your shoes, while you say, ‘Blood, be gone! Blood, be gone!”’ The girl went to the attic, found the sickle, and did with it as the Cat had told her to do, saying, “Blood, be gone! Blood, be gone!” Even as she spoke the last word, the blood-stains disappeared. Then the girl went downstairs, where she found the Bull waiting for her. “Let me see your keys,” he said, “and your hands and your shoes!” When he saw that she had no blood-stains upon her, he suddenly changed from a bull into a beautiful prince. “I was bewitched,” he said, “by a girl who loved me, but whom I wouldn’t marry because I didn’t love her. I killed many a girl when I was a bull; but now we will have the bodies taken care of, and then we will be married.” So they buried the bodies, and then were married and lived happily ever after.

DR. B., THE WITCH DOCTOR The Bewitched Mill Tradition Bearer: Fred Mattice Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 319–20. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: Anglo American

The following two narratives are local legends collected in the southern part of Schoharie County, New York State. They focus on the powers of a local healer, Dr. B. Evidence suggests that Dr. B. was labeled a “witch doctor” because of his ability to treat supernaturally caused ailments.

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Although the cycle of tales focusing on Dr. B. was confined to Schoharie County, certain elements of the legends, such as the transformation of witches into nonhuman form (“The Bewitched Mill”) and the witch’s “riding” of a victim resulting in the victim’s performing violent and abnormal physical actions (“Granny Cobb, the Witch”), are widely distributed motifs.

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ne day a man’s mill refused to work for him. He tried every way he knew to get it to go, but go it would not. So finally he came to the conclusion that it was bewitched, and went to Dr. B. for help. The witch doctor said to the mill-owner, “Get someone who will not speak a word, no matter what happens to him, and bring him to me.” When the desired man was produced, the doctor gave him a piece of paper containing writing, and told him to fasten it to the mill-wheel, speaking no word until he had completed the task. Then he was to raise a great shout. In order to reach the mill, the man had to take a boat. On his way to it he felt something brush against his legs. Thinking it was a dog, he put out his hand in an absent-minded way to stroke it; but when his hand came in contact with something web-like and softer than silk, he looked down, and discovered that there was nothing in sight. At that he hurried his steps; but the invisible something kept running so close to him, that it always pressed against him. When he came to the place where the boat was tied, he quickly unfastened it and jumped in; but he was not quick enough to leave his companion behind. Remembering that he must go to the mill alone, he jumped out with the “thing” close at his heels, and tried to get in with such expedition that he would leave it behind. In this he was disappointed. A third time he tried it. This time he went far up on the shore, then, turning, swiftly ran and leaped into the boat, at the same time pushing it away from the shore. To his relief, he found that he was alone; so without a word he crossed to the mill, where he fastened the bit of paper with the magic words on it to the mill-wheel. Then he returned to his boat and raised a loud shout. Straightway the mill-wheel started up, and continued to go for many years. Soon after this, the mother of the mill-owner fell sick, and her son again went to the witch doctor for help. “My mother is sick,” said he. “Of course she is,” replied the doctor; “she is the one who bewitched your mill; I meant she should be sick.” The next day the woman died.

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The Northeast | Dr. B., the Witch Doctor

Granny Cobb, the Witch Tradition Bearer: Jane Buell Source: Gardner, Emelyn E. “Folk-Lore from Schoharie County, New York.” Journal of American Folklore 27 (1914): 320–21. Date: 1914 Original Source: New York National Origin: German American

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rs. B.’s mother once went to see Lib C., who was said to be bewitched. As the caller entered, she noticed there was a closely covered basin of something boiling violently on the stove. Her curiosity was aroused by the close attention which Lib’s mother gave to the boiling; so she inquired what was in the basin. They told her that was a secret, but that it was something to keep the witch woman away. The caller had been there only a few minutes, when Lib said in agonized tones, “Hurry, Mrs._______! She’ll be here now in ten minutes.” “Who?” inquired Mrs. ___________. “Granny Cobb, the witch woman.” (Granny Cobb was a neighbor, living but a short distance from the C. farm.) Sure enough, in just ten minutes by the clock, Lib began to turn a series of back somersaults, chair and all. After she was all but worn out, suddenly she appeared sitting in her chair as straight as a cob. In a few minutes—as soon as she was able to get her breath, in fact—she hopped lightly from her chair and sprang upon the red-hot front griddles of the stove, where she performed a lively dance until the witch left her again. Presently she began to turn somersaults on the bed; and then the caller, not being able to stand any more, went home. After some weeks Lib became so tortured, that her father sent for Dr. B., a noted witch doctor in Kingston. When the doctor came, he went to the C. cellar, where those in the room above heard him command the spirit of Granny Cobb to appear. “Are you going to let this girl alone?” they heard him ask. “Never till I die,” was the answer. “Then you die!” he replied. The next morning, when the neighbors did not see Granny Cobb about, one of them finally plucked up courage to go and peep through her bedroom window; and there lay the old woman dead in her bed.

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NEW HAMPSHIRE WITCHES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Currier, John McNab. “Contributions to the Folk-Lore of New England.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 291–93. Date: Unavailable (ca. mid-nineteenth century) Original Source: New Hampshire National Origin: Anglo American

The following represents an early attempt to present traditional narratives in their natural context. The common thread in these local legends is the identification of witch and victim. In “Hag Riding” the spirit is taken from the body of a sleeper and acts out the will of the witch. The victim, however, may turn the tables on the victimizer and force him or her into servitude. The “hag experience” has been established to be a cross-cultural, psycho-physiological phenomenon. Folklorist David Hufford describes it as being associated with four common symptoms: (1) awakening; (2) hearing or seeing something come into the room and approach the bed; (3) being pressed on the chest and strangled; and (4) being unable to move or cry out. The hag experience is represented in John Henry Fuseli’s painting “The Nightmare.” In “Death Blow to a Witch,” the equine victim and its tormentor were so closely associated that a blow to the former had a fatal effect on the latter. The motif—a witch’s borrowing of an object from a victim in order to gain or regain control of events—is common in this region. Therefore, although localized, the beliefs embodied in these legends are widely distributed.

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n the year 1800 my father purchased one hundred acres of “wild land” in Grafton County, New Hampshire, lying upon the Connecticut River. For many years he struggled in the virgin forests, and paid for his farm; afterwards adding to it, by purchase, other lots of land partially cleared. He endured many hardships of pioneer life, without much of a chance for education; and it was not until the early settlers had paid for their farms, and had raised a surplus of produce, that any great interest was taken in educational matters. In such neighborhoods it was not

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The Northeast | New Hampshire Witches

strange that myths, belief in witch-craft, and reliance upon signs, should exist in a certain measure. Visiting among the neighbors was very common, particularly on autumn and winter evenings, without formality or invitation. Their “latch-strings were always out,” and when the rap was heard at the door the almost invariable reply was, the welcome words: “Walk in.” Conversation was on farming interests, politics, religion, neighborhood gossip, the “district school,” and now and then a bit of folk-lore received their attention, and that, too, without any reserve. My father’s house stood on the west side of the main road, on a broad interval; east of the road rose a high hill partly covered with evergreen trees, among which, only a few years before, roamed deer, black bear, and howling wolves. One of the most memorable and pleasant occasions in my youthful days was one winter evening, when some of our friends came in for a visit. The family occupied one large room, on one side of which was a large brick fire-place; in this was a good roaring and snapping fire, which afforded sufficient light without any candles. Our family and friends sat in a semi-circle around the fire. There had just been a heavy snow-storm, and the trees were covered with snow. The full moon rose through the snow-laden evergreens, and shone brightly into our room through the east windows. Over the hard-wood fire, on the crane, hung a pot of bean-porridge, from which we all commenced our supper, each one stepping up and dipping out what one wished, and returning to one’s seat in the semi-circle; the last course being pumpkin-pie and cheese. Later in the evening we had popped corn, butternuts, apples, and cider. In the course of this rural visit several ghost and witch stories were related, half to keep up the conversation, and half to make those stare who might take stock in their genuineness. Some of those that were related, on that occasion and at other times, I will relate as I heard them.

Hag Riding

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woman of the neighborhood was at my father’s house one evening, when some singular noise turned her attention to the subject of witchcraft, and I heard her relate, in substance, the following account: “I was out alone in the door-yard one bright moonlight evening last summer, gathering up some chips to build a fire with the next morning, when I heard several female voices, talking and laughing merrily, apparently coming down the road. They seemed to be rapidly approaching, and I waited to see who they were; when they got near me, I could see no one, but they were heard directly overhead in the air: I looked up and saw nothing but the bright stars. I could hear their talking and laughing as they passed along overhead. Their voices grew fainter and

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fainter as they passed off in an opposite direction from whence they came, until I could hear them no longer.” This woman was free to state, with perfect confidence, that these voices were a company of witches going through the air to some unoccupied house to hold a frolic and have a dance. She believed they could go invisibly in spirit, separate from the body, and were possessed with muscular power, equal if not superior to that in the body, to perform any diabolical acts they might fancy. And, however decrepit they might be in the body, they were as lively and bouyant in the spirit as they ever were in their youthful days. She believed that witches had the power to disengage the spirit of an individual from the body, when found asleep or unawares, and could take that spirit along with them, when it would be perfectly under their control, and could be made to perform any service they desired; and sometimes such stolen spirits were made the butt of fun at their evening’s entertainments at some haunted house. The spirits of those individuals would in all cases be returned to their own bodies before morning; and although the subjects may have slept soundly all night, they would be either sick or affected with great lassitude the next day. I have myself heard the question asked, both in sobriety and half in jest, if one “was rode” by witches the night previous. I have heard related that the witch throws the bridle upon the face of the sleeper, and then repeats an incantation before the spirit will disengage and be ready for a journey, and if the sleeper will only awake and throw the bridle upon the witch’s face while she is repeating the incantation, her spirit is subdued, and must obey the will of the sleeper, and continue in that service until the bridle is taken off, or as long as her master or mistress shall remain silent; but if one word should be spoken aloud the witch is freed from servitude, and she is gone.

Deathblow to a Witch

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was well acquainted with a farmer who had a large family of children; all believed in witchcraft. I have heard him relate the following story several times. One day in March he and his sons went to one of his neighbors, with a yoke of oxen, horse, and sled, for a load of hay. On their return they came to a bad place in the road, where the horse refused to go farther and laid down in the road. They tried various means to induce the horse to get up, but all in vain. After spending over one half day in the attempt, they suspected her being bewitched by a certain old woman who lived in the neighborhood, and the man seized an axe and attempted to kill the horse by beating out its brains. The skull was broken,

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The Northeast | Jake Strauss

and the horse was left upon the roadside till the next morning. Just at that moment the old woman had a bad spell, her head dropped to one side, and a doctor was sent for. She lived only a few days. In the mean time the family of the old woman sent down to the man’s house for some favors, but they were all refused. He believed, if he should accommodate them in the least thing, that the old woman would re-cover, believing that he had struck the death-blow to the witch when he struck the horse. The next morning after, he went down to the horse and was surprised to find it alive. This survival he attributed to blows of the axe falling upon the witch instead of the horse. This man firmly believed that he struck the death-blow to the old woman when he struck the horse, and that she would have recovered had he accommodated the family with the least favor. He told this story with evident pride in his skill in gaining advantage over the witch.

JAKE STRAUSS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Hoffman, W. J. “Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans III.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 193–94. Date: 1889 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: German American

In spite of Jake Strauss’ apprehensions, there is no real evidence of witchcraft in the following narrative. The fright Jake Straus suffers is likely due to his superstitious nature fed by a guilty conscience. Although this is presented as a local legend, this anecdote featuring a local character most closely resembles “Clothing Caught in a Graveyard” (AT1676B).

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ake Strauss had the name of being very superstitious, and he also believed in witches.

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Late one night, as he was returning toward home from courting, and he had a considerable distance to go, he thought that by going across the fields he might reach home before the old folks had risen in the morning. One of the fields through which he had to pass was overgrown with brambles and vines, and he had not gone far when the vines made him fall down. Then he instantly thought that the witches had caused this, and that he could appease them by giving them a little tobacco; so he threw down a piece and began to run. He did not proceed far before falling again, and as he arose he again threw down a piece of tobacco to keep off the witches. In the beginning Jake was well provided with plug tobacco, of the variety called horse-leg, but by the time he had crossed that field and paid the witches he had nothing left. Still he considered himself fortunate in not sustaining greater injury than the loss of his tobacco and a lacerated skin. Jake used to have great times in telling of his misfortunes through the witches. Everything that he possessed, his cattle, chickens, and ducks, were bewitched, and at last he could no longer raise any ducks at all. Through the spells put upon them by witches, these became so lean that they could no longer pull the blades of grass, through sheer weakness. Then it occurred to him that perhaps the grass might be bewitched, because some of his ducks in attempting to pull up blades of grass pulled themselves out of their skins; then he had the trouble to place them near the fire until a new skin and feathers grew upon the bodies. This was too much for Jake, so he gave up raising ducks.

TIJAIHA THE SORCERER Tradition Bearer: Joseph White (Mandarong) Source: Hale, Horatio. “Huron Folklore II: The Story of Tihaiha, the Sorcerer.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 250–52. Date: 1874 Original Source: Huron National Origin: Native American

In this Huron legend, Tijaiha subverts cultural tradition to his own ends. His encounter with the horned water serpent mirrors the vision quest

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The Northeast | Tijaiha the Sorcerer

that was expected of all Huron youth: after a period of fasting and praying one would be visited by a guardian spirit who would grant protection, knowledge, and power in return for individual acts of veneration. The power to defeat one’s enemies is not uncommon, but the serpent’s request for the sacrifice of a family member is extraordinary. In the course of committing sorcery (among the most heinous crimes in traditional Huron culture), Tijaiha goes on to betray not only his mother-in-law but also both his family and his village after allying himself with the enemy Iroquois. This tale in this context may well be designed to convey the narrator’s perception of a negative side to indigenous Huron religion.

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hen the French came (so the chief’s words were rendered) the missionaries tried to prevail on the Indians to receive their religion. They asked the Indians if they knew anything about God. The Indians replied that they did; that three or four times a year they had meetings, at which the women and children were present, and then the chiefs told them what to do and warned them against evil practices. The missionaries said that this was good, but that there was a better way, which they ought to know. They ought to become Christians. But the Indians said, “We have many friends among the creatures about us. Some of us have snake friends, some eagles, some bears, and the like. How can we desert our friends?” The priests replied, “There is only one God.” “No,” said the Indians, “there are two gods, one for the Indians and the other for the whites.” The discussion lasted three days. Finally, the priests said it was true, there were two Gods, Jesus and the Holy Ghost. One of these might be the same as the Indian God. The Indians could follow all his commands which were good, and also obey the commands of Jesus. But they would have to give up their allies among the brutes. Some of the Hurons became Christians, but others refused to accept the new religion. Among these was a noted warrior, a young man, named Tijaiha. On one occasion he left the town with his family to hunt on the Huron River. One day, coming to a deep pool near the river, he beheld a violent commotion in the water, which was evidently made by a living creature. Of what nature it might be he did not know, though he believed it to be a great serpent, and to be possessed, like many of the wild creatures, of supernatural powers. Thereupon, after the fashion of the Indians, he fasted for ten days, eating occasionally only a few morsels to preserve life; and he prayed to the creature that

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some of its power might be bestowed on him. At the end of the tenth day a voice from the disturbed pool demanded what he wanted. He replied that he wanted to have such power given to him that he could vanquish and destroy all his enemies. She (the creature) replied that this power should be conferred upon him if he would grant her what she desired. He asked what this was, and was told that she would require one of his children. If he would grant this demand, he might come at night and learn from her the secret which would give him the power he sought for. He objected to this sacrifice, but offered, in place of the child, to give an old woman, his wife’s mother. (Mrs. White translated this unfilial proposition with an expression of quizzical humor.) The creature accepted the substitute, and the bargain was concluded. That night Tijaiha returned to the pool, and learned what he had to do. He was to prepare a cedar arrow, with which he must shoot the creature when she should appear, at his call, above the water. From the wound he could then draw a small quantity of blood, the possession of which would render him invincible, and enable him to destroy his enemies. But as this blood was a deadly poison, and even its effluvia might be mortal, he must prepare an antidote from the juice of a plant which she named. On the following day he procured the plant, and his wife, who knew nothing of the fatal price he was to pay, assisted him in making the infusion. He also made a cedar arrow, and, with bow in hand, repaired to the pool. At his call the water began to rise, boiling fearfully. As it rose, an animal came forth. It proved to be a large bird, a “diver,” and the warrior said, “This is not the one,” and let it go. The water boiled and rose higher, and a porcupine came out. “Neither is this the one,” said the warrior, and withdrew his arrow from his bow. Then the water rose in fury to the level of the bank, and the head of a huge horned serpent, with distended jaws and flaming eyes, rose and glared at Tijaiha. “This is the one,” he said, and shot the creature in the neck. The blood gushed forth, and he caught, in a vessel which he held ready, about half a pint. Then he ran toward his lodge, but before he reached it he had become nearly blind and all but helpless. His wife put the kettle to his lips. He drank the antidote, and presently vomited the black poison, and regained his strength. In the morning he called to his wife’s mother, but she was dead. She had perished without a touch from a human hand. In this manner he became possessed of a talisman which, as he believed, would give him a charmed life, and secure him the victory over his enemies. But in some way it became known that he had been the cause of the mother’s death. This crime excited the indignation of his people, and he dared not go back to them. He took refuge with the Iroquois, and became a noted warchief among them.

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The Northeast | Tijaiha the Sorcerer

After some time he resolved, in an evil hour, to lead an attack against his own people. He set forth at the head of a strong party of warriors, and arrived at the Wyandot (Huron) settlement, near the present town of Sandwich. It was the season of corn-planting, and two of Tijaiha’s aunts had come out on that day to plant their fields. They were women of high rank in the tribe, and Tijaiha knew that their death would arouse the whole tribe. He ordered his followers to kill them. This they did, and then retreated into the forest to the north, carefully covering their tracks, to escape pursuit. Their leader’s expectation was that the Huron warriors would go off in another direction in search of their enemies, thus leaving their defenseless town at his mercy. When the Hurons found the bodies they were greatly excited. They searched for ten days without discovering any trace of the murderers. Their chief then consulted a noted soothsayer, who promised that on the following day he would tell him all. During the night the soothsayer made his incantations, and in the morning informed the Hurons that the deed had been done by a party of Iroquois, under the lead of Tijaiha. The enemy, he said, was lurking in the woods, and he could guide them to the spot; but they must wait ten days before starting. The Hurons waited impatiently until the ten days had expired, and then placed the old soothsayer on horseback, and followed him. He led them through the forest directly to the encampment of their enemies. On seeing them they waited till evening, and then through the night, till daybreak. Then, according to their custom, they shouted to their sleeping foes, and rushed upon them. They killed every man in the camp; but on examining carefully the bodies, they were annoyed to find that Tijaiha was not among them. Being hungry, they seated themselves to eat, and the chief, feeling thirsty, told his son to take his kettle and bring him some water. “Where shall I find water here?” asked the boy. “These men must have had water,” replied his father. “Look for the path they have made to it.” The lad looked, and found the path, and, following it, came to a deep spring or pool under a tree. As he was stooping down to it a man rose partly out of the pool, and bade the youth take him prisoner. The affrighted boy ran to the camp and told what he had seen. All shouted “Tijaiha,” and rushed to the pool, where they dragged him forth by the hair. He stood defiant and sneering, while they attempted to kill him. Their blows seemed powerless to injure him. He caught the tomahawks which were aimed at him, and hurled them back. At length a warrior, exclaiming, “I will finish him,” plunged a knife into his breast and tore out his heart. Thrown on the ground, it bounded like a living thing, till the warrior split it

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open with his knife. Thus ended Tijaiha’s evil career. His contract with the serpent had only led him to crime and death.

AMERICAN VAMPIRES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Curtin, Jeremiah. “European Folklore in the United States.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 58–59. Date: 1889 Original Source: Vermont National Origin: Anglo American

The following personal experience narratives function as belief tales. Such traditional narratives are attempts on the part of the storyteller to substantiate a particular folk belief by providing a first-hand, localized account of an event related to the belief.

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n New England curious and interesting material may be found among old people descended from the English colonial settlers. About five years ago an old lady told me that fifty-five years before our conversation the heart of a man was burned on Woodstock Green, Vermont. The man had died of consumption six months before and his body buried in the ground. A brother of the deceased fell ill soon after, and in a short time it appeared that he too had consumption; when this became known the family determined at once to disinter the body of the dead man and examine his heart. They did so, found the heart undecayed, and containing liquid blood. Then they reinterred the body, took the heart to the middle of Woodstock Green, where they kindled a fire under an iron pot, in which they placed the heart, and burned it to ashes. The old lady who told me this was living in Woodstock at the time, and said she saw the disinterment and the burning with her own eyes. The same old lady said that her uncle, a physician of good standing and repute, was present, with other physicians, at the opening of a grave in the town

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The Northeast | Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains

of Malone, New York. The reason of the opening was as follows: A “bone auger” had been observed making its way through one of the grave mounds in the church-yard, increasing in height day by day. At length it was determined to dig down and trace this auger to its origin. They dug through the earth to the coffin below, the auger had bored its way through the coffin lid. The lid was removed, and the people found that the “bone auger” was growing out of the heart of a man buried some time before. These two cases are remarkable enough. The first is a peculiar kind of vampirism quite worthy of some Oriental country. The old lady informed me that the belief was quite common when she was a girl, about seventy-five years ago, that if a person died of consumption and one of the family, that is, a brother or sister, or the father or mother, was attacked soon after, people thought the attack came from the deceased. They opened the grave at once and examined the heart; if bloodless and decaying, the disease was supposed to be from some other cause, and the heart was restored to its body; but if the heart was fresh and contained liquid blood, it was feeding on the life of the sick person. In all such cases they burned the heart to ashes in a pot, as on Woodstock Green.

GHOST LEGENDS OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Newell, William Wells. “The Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains in Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 76–78. Date: 1897 Original Source: Henning, D. C. “Tales of the Blue Mountains in Pennsylvania.” Miners’ Journal (Pottsdam, PA), March 26, 1897. National Origin: German American

Folklorist William Wells Newell notes that, “In 1755 the colonial authorities established as many as forty forts and blockhouses along the Blue Mountains, from the Susquehanna to the Delaware.” Newell contends that during the latter part of the nineteenth century these forts served as the catalyst for tales of “fairies” and other supernatural beings.

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Return of Siegfried

The following legend, a folk version of Washington Irving’s “Rip Van Winkle,” attests to the vitality of a belief in mountain spirits within the German American community of the Blue Mountain region well into the nineteenth century.

A

youth of the name of Siegfried, having paid a visit to his promised bride, rather singularly called Chriemhilt, crossed the mountains during a thunder-storm and disappeared. Sixty-five years, a month, and a fortnight later the bride, now grown to an old woman and still unmarried, received a visit from this lover, who appeared on horseback, still wearing the costume habitual in the time when he had been lost to knowledge. This interview took place, according to the tale, in the presence of children. The old woman afterwards explained that she had been accosted by her lover, who was under the impression that he had remained only a few hours in the mountains with the spirits, whose splendid palaces and golden streets he described, and who were able to pass at will and in a moment from one end of the mountains to the other. The woman refused to accompany him, and one of the spirits of the mountain appeared, who claimed the suitor as his captive. At the prayer of Chriemhilt, however, he consented that after her death the prisoner should be released, and reunion effected in heaven. Such is the folktale, obtained from the relation of one of the children present at the advent of the suitor, and who in after days narrated the incident.

Paul Heym, the Wizard of Lebanon

Although shape-shifting is usually associated with witchcraft, Paul Heym would be labeled a “Pow-wow Doctor” in the Pennsylvania German community. Pow-wowing (brauche or braucherei) is a benign folk medical tradition that involves cures using, among other devices, charms such as the one included at the end of the following brief account.

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The Northeast | Supernatural Legends of Chappaquiddick

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certain Paul Heym, living near Lebanon about 1755, was supposed to possess the ability of transforming himself into various shapes. When hard pressed by Indian pursuers, he escaped by changing himself into a stump, and under the form of a wildcat was able to visit an Indian council and overhear the plans formed; from an arrow the beast received a wound in a paw, which afterward appeared on the arm of the wizard. When he left his house, Heym was in the habit of protecting it by a charm, written on a piece of paper, and regarded as also a protection against lightning. The words are preserved: In Namen Gottes geh’ ich aus; Der Vater wahr’ mir dieses Haus; Der Sohn mit seiner Lieb dabei Dies Haus bewahr’ in aller Treu; Und Heil’ger Geist, lass nicht heran, Ein Sach das dies Haus schaden kann.

SUPERNATURAL LEGENDS OF CHAPPAQUIDDICK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Clough, Ben C. “Legends of Chappaquiddick.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 553–54. Date: 1918 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

Chappaquiddick is a small island off the coast of the larger island of Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts. The Edgartown mentioned in both legends is on Martha’s Vineyard.

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The Haunted Hollow

A common feature of supernatural legends is the haunting of an area where a violent or untimely death has occurred. Unlike many similar tales, however, this example lacks the motif of a request by the dead for some act by the living to allow a peaceful repose in the afterlife.

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n the Haunted Hollow, over a century ago, stood a house where a somewhat mysterious woman lived alone with her three children. She does not appear to have been precisely an estimable character. At all events, she was in the habit of locking the children in the house at night and going down to the point, and across the ferry to Edgartown. She did this once too often. The children, it is supposed, somehow set the house on fire, and, being unable to get out, were burned to death. Of their mother’s emotions and of her subsequent history, nothing is told. But, and here is the strange part of the story, every spring, along in May and June, just about dusk, the voices of the three children may be heard crying down in the Haunted Hollow. Superstition! Nonsense! No doubt, but let him scoff who, knowing the legend, has sauntered by the Haunted Hollow of a May evening and felt no quickening pulse.

The Little Man

T

he Little Man is something more than a voice. He can be seen; and sometime, when you are walking alone across the Chappaquiddick moors, you may encounter him. He is very small and very strange-looking. Those who have seen him are unable to say more of his physical appearance. But you may know him by his manner. He never speaks: he approaches you, looks at you oddly, and then points off across the sea. You will naturally look in the direction in which he points, people always do, and when you look back, he will be gone. Vanished, absolutely! No trace of him anywhere. The story is told of a certain Edgartown man, a lover of practical jokes, that he once asked a Chappaquiddick farmer, “Who was that little man that I saw down in your field?” “I don’t know. Why?” was the rather indifferent answer.

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The Northeast | Granny Steel

“Well, I just wondered. He was sort of queer-looking. I thought I knew everybody in town, but I never saw him before.” “What did he say to you?” asked the farmer, showing a little more interest. “Why, that was the queer part of it. He didn’t say a word; he just pointed. Of course, I looked to see what he was pointing at, and then—” “Yes, yes, what then?” “Why, he was gone. I don’t know what became of him. He must have gone off pretty quick.” “There now!” cried the farmer, excitedly, “You’ve seen it! Now maybe folks won’t say there’s no such thing! I’ve seen it, and my father saw it, and now you’ve seen it!” I myself have never heard the strange cries in the Haunted Hollow; I have never seen the “little man”; but I have heard the noise of frogs on a still night in spring, and I have heard the mournful cry of the owl. At night, in the Haunted Hollow, such sounds might well prove disturbing. As for the “little man,” I have a notion as to the particular family of elves to which he belongs. An old Scottish ballad (No. 38 in the Child collection) begins thus: “As I was walking all alone, Between a water and a wa, And there I spy’d a wee wee man, And he was the least that ere I saw.” The narrator has some conversation with the wee wee man, and follows him to a fairy palace which has a roof of beaten gold. But, note the denouement! “When we came to the stair-foot, Ladies were dancing, jimp and sma, But in the twinkling of an eye, My wee wee man was clean a wa.” Can it be that this Scottish spirit is now acclimated in the lonely fields of Chappaquiddick? It may be so, for time and space mean little to these unsubstantial beings. And I confess to a kind of hope that someday (as I am not a summer visitor) I may stumble upon that gold-roofed fairy palace on Chappaquiddick.

GRANNY STEEL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Hoffman, W. J. “Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans III.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 192–93.

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Date: 1889 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: German American

The legend of “Granny Steel” describes a benign haunting. Granny Steel’s spirit is bound to the spot of death by an untimely death, but unlike the children of “Haunted Hollow” (p. 124), she does not seek restitution for a wrong committed by the living. The elimination of supernatural visitors by reversals, in this case counting backward, is a widely held traditional concept.

W

hen Granny Steel was dead, there was a silver quarter [of a dollar] found in her wind-pipe, and it was said that she had undoubtedly been strangled by it. Anyhow, her ghost used to go about the house at all hours of the night. They used to hear it go up and down stairs, the doors opened and closed of their own accord, and in various ways it made itself very uncanny to those who dwelt in the house; for all that they knew there was no danger to be apprehended, inasmuch as old Granny had been a good old soul. One of the members of a family who once lived there was a half-witted girl, who imagined that it would be well to go to a fortune-teller about this ghost. The fortune-teller told her to go home, to close all the doors in the house except one, and to sit in the dark to await the arrival of the ghost. The instant that it began to ascend the stairs she should count the number of steps. Then, when the ghost had finished its wanderings up-stairs, and was about to come down, she was to follow it, coming down backward, and to count aloud the number of steps taken by the ghost in ascending. This the girl did, from first to last; and since that time the ghost of old Granny Steel has not been heard.

THE VANISHING HITCH-HIKER AND THE CABBIE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Romanofsky, Fred. “Interview of Cabbies.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 22 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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The Northeast | The Unseen Helpers

Date: 1937 Original Source: New York National Origin: European American

This personal experience narrative is an example of “the vanishing hitchhiker.” Similar narratives appear cross-culturally, including an incident recorded in the Bible (Acts 8:26–39). The narrative is popular enough in English language traditions to have been designated as a motif by folklorist Ernest W. Baughman. While there are many variations, the basic motif—a rider mysteriously vanishing from a vehicle—is E332.3.3.1.

A

well dressed man asked to be taken up to 161st Street. So I drive up Lexington Avenue. Then he signals to me that he wants to stop at a cigar store to buy some cigarettes. So I does and wait till he goes into store and leave the door of the cab wide open. I sit and wait for him. Then I hear the door close and I step on the gas and go all the way up to 161st street. I turn around to ask the house numbers but the cab was empty! No man in there and no fare for that trip! Where did the man disappear? I dunno. Maybe, someone pushed the door shut and I just went off thinking my fare was in. And maybe not. Some queer things happen to us cab drivers.

THE UNSEEN HELPERS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Pages 360–62 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. Date: 1883 Original Source: Seneca National Origin: Native American

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The Seneca of this legend were one of the nations of the Iroquois League. Although no particular clan membership was specified for Ganogwioeoñ, the Wolf Clan was one of their eight traditional clans. If he was, in fact, one of the Wolf Clan, this might explain the behavior of his “unseen helpers.” A more likely bond, however, would be that the wolf was his guardian spirit animal. As such, the wolf taught and protected its protégée, and the man would be obliged to pay homage in various ways to the guardian. This may be the reason that, as the wolf says in this supernatural legend, he always gave the best part of his hunt to them.

G

anogwioeoñ, a war chief of the Seneca, led a party against the Cherokee. When they came near the first town he left his men outside and went in alone. At the first house he found an old woman and her granddaughter. They did not see him, and he went into the sweatlodge and hid himself under some wood. When darkness came on he heard the old woman say, “Maybe Ganogwioeoñ is near; I’ll close the door.” After a while he heard them going to bed. When he thought they were asleep he went into the house. The fire had burned down low, but the girl was still awake and saw him. She was about to scream, when he said, “I am Ganogwioeoñ. If you scream I’ll kill you. If you keep quiet I’ll not hurt you.” They talked together, and he told her that in the morning she must bring the chief’s daughter to him. She promised to do it, and told him where he should wait. Just before daylight he left the house. In the morning the girl went to the chief’s house and said to his daughter, “Let’s go out together for wood.” The chief’s daughter got ready and went with her, and when they came to the place where Ganogwioeoñ was hiding he sprang out and killed her, but did not hurt the other girl. He pulled off the scalp and gave such a loud scalp yell that all the warriors in the town heard it and came running out after him. He shook the scalp at them and then turned and ran. He killed the first one that came up, but when he tried to shoot the next one the bow broke and the Cherokee got him. They tied him and carried him to the two women of the tribe who had the power to decide what should be done with him. Each of these women had two snakes tattooed on their lips, with their heads opposite each other, in such a way that when they opened their mouths the two snakes opened their mouths also.

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The Northeast | The Unseen Helpers

They decided to burn the soles of his feet until they were blistered, then to put grains of corn under the skin and to chase him with clubs until they had beaten him to death. They stripped him and burnt his feet. Then they tied a bark rope around his waist, with an old man to hold the other end, and made him run between two lines of people, and with clubs in their hands. When they gave the word to start, Ganogwioeoñ pulled the rope away from the old man and broke through the line and ran until he had left them all out of sight. When night came he crawled into a hollow log. He was naked and unarmed, with his feet in a pitiful condition, and thought he could never get away. He heard footsteps on the leaves outside and thought his enemies were upon him. The footsteps came up to the log and someone said to another, “This is our friend.” Then the stranger said to Ganogwioeoñ: “You think you are the same as dead, but it is not so. We will take care of you. Stick out your feet.” He put out his feet from the log and felt something licking them. After awhile the voice said, “I think we have licked his feet enough. Now we must crawl inside the log and lie on each side of him to keep him warm.” They crawled in beside him. In the morning they crawled out and told him to stick out his feet again. They licked them again and then said to him, “Now we have done all we can do this time. Go on until you come to the place where you made a bark shelter a long time ago, and under the bark you will find something to help you.” Ganogwioeoñ crawled out of the log, but they were gone. His feet were better now and he could walk comfortably. He went on until about noon, when he came to the bark shelter, and under it he found a knife, an awl, and a flint, that his men had hidden there two years before. He took them and started on again. Toward evening he looked around until he found another hollow tree and crawled into it to sleep. At night he heard the footsteps and voices again. When he put out his feet again, as the strangers told him to do, they licked his feet as before and then crawled in and lay down on each side of him to keep him warm. Still he could not see them. In the morning after they went out they licked his feet again and said to him, “At noon you will find food.” Then they went away. Ganogwioeoñ crawled out of the tree and went on. At noon he came to a burning log, and near it was a dead bear, which was still warm, as if it had been killed only a short time before. He skinned the bear and found it very fat. He cut up the meat and roasted as much as he could eat or carry. While it was roasting he scraped the skin and rubbed rotten wood dust on it to clean it until he was tired. When night came: he lay down to sleep. He heard the steps and the voices again and one said, “Well, our friend is lying down. He has plenty to eat,

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and it does not seem as if he is going to die. Let us lick his feet again.” When they had finished they said to him, “You need not worry anymore now. You will get home all right.” Before it was day they left him. When morning came he put the bearskin around him like a shirt, with the hair outside, and started on again, taking as much of the meat as he could carry. That night his friends came to him again. They said, “Your feet are well, but you will be cold,” so they lay again on each side of him. Before daylight they left, saying, “About noon you will find something to wear.” He went on and about midday he came to two young bears just killed. He skinned them and dressed the skins, then roasted as much meat as he wanted and lay down to sleep. In the morning he made leggings of the skins, took some of the meat, and started on. His friends came again the next night and told him that in the morning he would come upon something else to wear. As they said, about noon he found two fawns just killed. He turned the skins and made himself a pair of moccasins, then cut some of the meat, and traveled on until evening, when he made a fire and had supper. That night again he heard the steps and voices, and one said, “My friend, very soon now you will reach home safely and find your friends all well. Now we will tell you why we have helped you. Whenever you went hunting you always gave the best part of the meat to us and kept only the smallest part for yourself. For that we are thankful and help you. In the morning you will see us and know who we are.” In the morning when he woke up they were still there—two men as he thought—but after he had said the last words to them and started on, he turned again to look, and one was a white wolf and the other a black wolf. That day he reached home.

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SECULAR TALES CONTEMPT FOR HIS TORTURERS Tradition Bearer: Mr. Wollman Source: Roth, Terry, and Sam Schwartz. “Interview of Mr. Wollman.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 16 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpa intro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: New York National Origin: Polish

The following anecdote portrays an appropriate survival attitude for adverse conditions. Although religion is an important component of the narrative, the narrative transmits a social secular message distinct from a religious truth in the context Mr. Wollman reports.

I

’ll relate you a story my friend he told me. In the olden days, about one hundred years ago, the Jews in Poland were the middle element, between the peasantry and the big landlords. They used to collect taxes from the peasants for the big landlords.


There was one Jew, he had about six daughters to marry and he was the one that collected the taxes. The landlord was the nobility. So since he had about six daughters to marry, he took down some money that he collected, and he married them off. Then he didn’t have money to pay to the landlords. Those days, the landlord was the absolute Czar of his peasants. So, you’ll pardon me, since he didn’t have the money, he went to the landlord and he said to leave down his pants and flog him. Because he didn’t have the money to pay. So they flogged him and they left him to rest off a week and another day they flogged him and let him to rest. So the Jewish fellow went to the Rabbi and he told the Rabbi, “What shall I do? They are flogging me and it hurts.” So the Rabbi answered him. “What do you care? He’s only a goy (non-Jew). It doesn’t mean anything.” Why did he tell me that? Because he’s a married man and has five children. And he was out of work at that time. So he related that story in connection with his condition. This is the philosophy of the Hasidism. That he looked with contempt on his torturers. No matter how they torture him, he doesn’t care.

NOBLEMAN AND THE MINISTER Tradition Bearer: Anca Vrbooska Source: Swenson, May. “Interview of Anca Vrbooska.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: New York National Origin: Hungarian American

The moral of this legend is made explicit by the narrator at her conclusion: One’s word should carry the power of law. Her desire to have the tale believed and, as a result, to have this moral accepted by her audience is brought home by strong introductory and concluding assertions concerning its truth and its wide circulation in her native Hungary.

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The Northeast | Nobleman and the Minister

W

ell, this is really based on partial truth. I mean all the Hungarian legends are. But I tell you about this one... This one has been printed. Anyone can use it, but no one can claim the authorship, for it grew up from the people. It has been printed in children’s school books, and I remember hearing the teacher read it to us in school, the lower grade school. It dates back to prior to 1848, and there was then still serfdom in Hungary. In a certain village, there lived a petty gentryman, a sort of squire. He was a very good-hearted, generous fellow, but he loved his wine, and he really could afford to drink for he had vineyards and they grew very famous grapes. One just could not blame him that every once in a while he would drink a few glasses too much and that would prevent him from going to church and listening to the minister’s sermon. The minister, on the other hand, was a very sober fellow who really had it in for, what shall I say, men who really preferred their wine to God’s word. At first in private conversations he used to represent this petty magnate for his, what shall I say, his un-Christian habit. But when he realized that his words, although they were listened to, were unheeded, he decided to bring the matter before the public. And so, one day, when the squire wasn’t drunk and went to church, what did the sober-minded minister do? He delivered the sermon directed against drunkards, and especially against drunkards who get drunk on Sunday and miss their church services. And he said very tactfully: “I don’t want to point my finger at the person who does that in this village, but all of you know who it may be.” Of course there was a general chuckling. Now our squire was a very proud person. He left the church in a state of indignation, and he called in his coachman, and he said to him: “Listen, John! Here before you, I make a solemn vow never to enter that church again, nor ever to listen to that minister preaching until we get a new clergyman for our village. But if ever you should find me listening to that minister, I order you to put me on the” ... you know, what do you call that...there’s a very good Hungarian word for it: Deres...it sort of looks like a bench which they use for flogging of servants who are disobedient to their masters...yes, a “pillory,” or whipping bench. And so here the squire was ordering his servant to put him on the whipping bench and give him 25 lashes, if he was ever caught listening to that minister again. Well, after a few months elapsed, a very dear friend of our squire in another village, happened to die. The squire went off to witness the funeral services. So there he was and listened to the sermon of one minister, and then another minister delivered also a very sad speech which made him begin to weep. He was so

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much overcome by grief that he didn’t even recognize that the speech that made him weep was really delivered by the minister of his own village. As they were riding home, he asked the coachman: “Tell me, John, who is that minister who delivered that sad and beautiful oration?” And John say, “Oh, it was our own dear Minister X.” “Come on,” said the squire. “Get a rod...” (I mean, when you cut off from a tree a stick and it bends...yes, a switch... ) “and give me those 25 lashes.” That is the end of the story. It was printed for children for that reason that here was a nobleman who, if even he was accidentally guilty, he kept his promise. He had the coachman give him 25 lashes. See, he was a man of his word. And the story meant to teach children the value of a word of honour, I suppose.

THE SONG OF THE COFFEE POT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wilson, Howard Barrett. “Notes of Syrian Folk-Lore Collected in Boston.” Journal of American Folklore 16 (1903): 144–47. Date: 1903 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Syrian American

Like the ordinary folktale “Outwitting the King,” the following folktale comes from the “Little Syria” section of Boston. Folklorist Howard Barrett Wilson distinguishes between narratives such as “Outwitting the King” and “Song of the Coffee Pot.” He writes, “The second class comprises stories of quite a different type, which are, I think, although not quite identical with, nevertheless closely akin to what we term ‘allegory.’ That is to say, A makes a remark which seems preposterous to B, for, as A intended, B does not understand the figurative or allegorical use of A’s words.” The tale celebrates the social power of wit and underscores the fact that intelligence knows no class distinctions.

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The Northeast | The Song of the Coffee Pot

O

ne day while the king and his premier were discussing matters, the king asked him what it was that the coffee-pot said as it simmered on the fire. This was the first time the premier had ever heard such a question as that, and he was unable to give an answer. It irritated him, for he had never thought that anyone could answer such a question. But the king was determined to know, and insisted on his discovering what the real words which the simmering coffee-pot says are. But the premier was unable to find out what they are. Then the king grew angry, and threatened to kill the premier if, at the expiration of three days, he could not tell him the words of the simmering coffeepot. The poor premier did his best to find out, and asked everyone, but all was in vain, for no one could enlighten him. What was worse, some of those he asked laughed at him, and thought that he was crazy. It was the afternoon of the second day, and still he had been unable to solve the mystery. In despair he gave up all hope of finding anyone in the world who knew what the simmering coffee-pot says, and, to seek relief and change for his troubled mind, departed from the city he knew not whither. As he was walking along in the country he met a peasant who was returning home from the city, and he asked him where he was going. The peasant told him that he was from a village which was located about an hour’s walk from the city. So the premier thought that he would accompany him to that village, not knowing in his perplexity what else to do. After they had walked together for a few minutes, the premier asked the peasant if he did not think that it would be a good plan for them to take turns, each letting the other ride on his shoulders for a short distance in order that they might neither become very tired on the way. The old peasant was amazed to hear such a question, and said, “My son, how do you expect me to let you ride on my shoulders while I am so feeble and advanced in years?” Of course the premier did not mean by his suggestion what the peasant understood, and consequently, discovering that the peasant did not understand what he meant, they walked on together in silence for nearly half the distance. The premier really meant by his suggestion that they should take turns telling stories and that thus the way would not seem so long and tiresome as it would if they walked in silence. After a short time they came across a cornfield, and again the premier initiated the conversation by asking if the owner of the field had already eaten the corn or not. The peasant was again amazed at the question of his companion, for it was evident to anyone that the cornfield was at its best, and merely replied, “My son,

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I do not understand what you mean by a question like that, for it is not difficult for anyone to see that this cornfield has not been harvested yet. Why, then, do you ask me if it has been eaten or not?” The premier did not allow himself to become angry at this reply, for he had perceived from the first that the peasant was not one of those who could understand his allegorical language. The premier meant by his question whether the owner of the cornfield had borrowed the money for the seed, in which case, soon after the harvest was over, after paying off the debt he had contracted for the seed in the spring, he would have nothing left to eat; or whether he owned the crop without debt. They walked on, and when very near the village a funeral passed them. Again the premier asked his companion whether the man was really dead. At this question the peasant was nearly beside himself he was so angry, and said, “How in the world can you doubt of the death of this man, for you see they are taking his body to the cemetery to bury, and therefore it is foolish to ask such a question as that.” The meaning of the premier was again mistaken. He meant that if the dead man had any sons, he was not really dead, for they would still keep his name alive. By this time they had entered the village, where they were obliged to separate. The custom in those days was that a stranger who had no place to which he could go should go to the mosque, and spend his time there. But as the place was entirely unknown to the premier, he asked the peasant if he would not kindly show him the way thither. He accordingly went with the premier and showed him the way. Then he departed, and when he had reached his home he was so astounded, and his mind was so full of the incidents that had happened, that he told his family about the queer man he had met, and how strangely he had talked. In his family, however, there was a daughter and, fortunately for the premier, she could understand the true meaning of his words. So after her father had related what he had heard, she told him that it would be very kind of him if he would take some supper to the stranger. She took seven loaves of bread, and a large bowl of soup and gave them to her father, telling him to give them to the stranger with her respects, and to say to him, “Our moon is full, and our week has seven days.” But the old man, being very hungry on account of his journey to the city, could not resist taking a few sips of the broth, and one of the loaves of bread, thinking that it would never be discovered that he had done so. When he handed the food to the stranger, he gave him his daughter’s message as she had directed. But the stranger, immediately detecting the theft, said, “No. Give your daughter my respects and tell her that your moon is not quite full, and that your week has but six, instead of seven, days.”

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The Northeast | The Song of the Coffee Pot

The peasant took back the message of the stranger to his daughter, and she, at once understanding what had been done, was somewhat provoked at her father for having done so. He, in turn, was greatly amazed when she told him what he had done, and could not possibly conceive how she had found out that he had taken some of the stranger’s supper, for he was quite certain that no one had seen him eat it. The next morning the girl desired very much to see the stranger who had so aroused her curiosity by her father’s report of him. So baking their bread on a large, somewhat rounded shield-like slab of iron, beneath which is the fire, she sent her father to invite him home. On the previous evening the premier had perceived that this peasant girl was such a person as he wanted to find, and so he was very glad to accept her invitation, and went home with the old man. It was the custom in those times for such people (i.e., those who spoke in allegories) when they met, to use allegorical language, making their remarks as difficult of comprehension as possible. Accordingly the stranger and the girl competed with one another, each asking the other the most difficult questions imaginable. The premier could see, to his great surprise, that this peasant girl was one of the cleverest persons he had ever met. After they had both enjoyed themselves in competition the premier was discovered to be no common person, but a nobleman disguised as a poor man so as to try to conceal his identity. He, on finding the girl so clever, had hoped for relief from his difficulty, and now that he perceived himself discovered by her, he told her the whole story of the sorry plight he was in on account of the king’s anger because he could not tell what the simmering coffee-pot says. But she greatly soothed his troubled mind, and encouraged him by telling him that it is the easiest thing in the world to answer. The premier was very much surprised, for in all his life and in all his studying he had never heard of such a thing, and none of his companions had either. As he was so anxious to hear what the coffeepot says as it simmers on the fire the girl told him, and this is what she said: My stream glides down the sunny glade Brings life to flower, and grass, and tree. But thus my kindness is repaid; They feed the blaze to torture me. The premier, rejoicing, went back to his city, and told the king that he had found out the words which the coffee-pot sings as it simmers on the fire.

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RAILWAY CHEFS Tradition Bearer: Leroy Spriggs Source: Byrd, Frank. “Interview of Leroy Spriggs.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: New York National Origin: African American

Chef Sampson Lands Mr. Trout

There were few refuges from the realities of racial discrimination throughout much of the early twentieth century. Therefore, the following personal legend describing Chef Sampson’s triumph of attitude and wit over his white supervisor is particularly striking.

W

hen we were running on the Pennsy, there was an old chef on our run who was the most onery old cuss you ever heard of. His name was Sampson and he could out-cuss a blue streak. He was a dictator in his kitchen and there was hell to pay any time the dining car waiters and cooks assistants did not hew the line as far as chef’s kitchen-rules were concerned. There was one thing he was particularly mean about. He didn’t allow anybody, not even the steward or second cook, to go into his ice box. The steward had the right to, of course, but even he used to humor the old man because he was so efficient in his work. And any time the second or third cooks wanted anything, they had to say: “Going in, Chef!” Meaning, of course, the ice box. Well, if he felt in the mood, he’d say: “Go ’head in!” If he didn’t, the answer would be: “Wait a minute. I’ll git it for you. I got my box ’ranged jus’ lak I want it an’ I don’t want it mixed up.” We also had an inspector named Mister Trout. He was a tall, rangy, meanlooking cracker from down in Georgia. He used to pop up unexpectedly in all

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sorts of little out of the way stations, board the train and start gum-shoeing around, seeing what he sees. Well, this day he climbs aboard at Altoona and just when we’re speeding through the mountains to Pittsburgh, Old Man Trout eases back into the kitchen and starts rummaging through Chef’s ice box. Chef had his back turned and was busy chopping some onions on a board near the window. He heard the commotion, however, and, without turning around said: “Git the hell outa dat ice box.” Old Man Trout said nothing, but continued his inspection. “Git outa dat ice box, I say!” Chef repeated, still without turning around. Old Man Trout straightened up to his full six, rawbony feet, took one contemptuous look at Chef Sampson and said: “Who in hell do you think you’re talkin’ to? My name is TROUT!” Chef Sampson stared back as cool as you please. Finally he drawled: “I wouldn’t give a damn if it’s CATFISH. You git duh hell outa my ice box!”

Chef Watkins’ Alibi

As this second anecdote from Leroy Spriggs demonstrates, not all railway chefs were of the same caliber. While Chef Sampson provided a model of strength and pride, Chef Watkins stands out as a an example of the ways in which power can corrupt, and performer and audience alike can take satisfaction in his humiliation.

C

hef Watkins was a short, fat squatty little Negro with the meanest disposition of any cook I’ve ever known; and I’ve known some mean ones in my time. He had a jet black skin, full pork-chop lips and a belly on him that shook like tapioca when he was working the lunch-hour rush. He could cuss like a top-sergeant and seemed to take a fiendish delight in giving the boys hell. When we had taken about as much of his crap as we could stand, the boys got together and hatched up a plot to get rid of him. The trouble was, he stood in too well with the big bosses. He was one of those kow-towing, old-fashioned, lackeys who would grin and yes a white man to death and give his Negro subordinates hell from morning till night.

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We all knew that Chef Watkins was killing the Company for everything he could steal. He had bought a huge, rambling old country house down in Maryland and a large breeding farm for jumping horses and prize stock...and you can’t do that on what the Pullman Company pays you even if you have worked for them twenty years and have full seniority rating. Nothing was too big or too small for him to steal. He had worked out a system with the commissary steward and between them they did an awful lot of bill padding. In addition to that, he used to throw hams, chickens, legs of lamb and anything else off to his wife or children whenever he passed his place near Bowie. You know, that junction where the Pennsy crosses the Seaboard? Well, the boys got together and decided that Old Cheffie had to go. So what we did was to drop a little hint here and there to Mr. Palmer, our chief steward, that if he’d just happen around the kitchen when we were nearing that Seaboard crossing, he might find out what was happening to all our missing supplies that he was catching hell about back in the Now York commissary. To make it short and sweet, when we neared the junction this day, Chef Watkins was busy, as usual, getting his hams and chickens together to toss out the window to his wife who was armed, as was customary, with her old potato sack in which she carried home the bacon; not to mention eggs (well-packed of course). Just as the train slowed down and the chef leaned back, ham poised like a football about to take flight, Old Man Palmer drawled in that deep Southern accent, as only Old Man Palmer could: “What in hell do you think you’re doin’ there, Watkins?” Well, you could have knocked the chef over with a feather. He stumbled, coughed and did everything but turn pale. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him stuck for words. “Know one thing, Mr. Palmer?” he finally spluttered. “Dere’s a ol’ black, nappy-headed woman who stands out dere by duh crossin’ and cusses me an’ calls me all sorta names ever time I pass hyeah, an’ it makes me so mad I grabs up duh fus thing I gits mah han’s on an th’ows it at ’er.”

THE SUIT THE SPARROW WON Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Accumulative Tales Told by Cape Verde Islanders in New England.” Journal of American Folklore 33 (1920): 34–37.

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The Northeast | The Suit the Sparrow Won

Date: 1920 Original Source: Cape Verde National Origin: African

This cumulative tale of Sparrow’s seven year and one day struggle to obtain help from the king suggests the convoluted path justice often takes for the common man.

S

parrow had a grain of corn. He flew, he went by the king’s house. The grain of corn slipped from his mouth, it fell into a polon. He went and said, “Sir King, tell the polon to give me my grain of corn!” The king said to him, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left the king. He went to the queen. He said, “Lady Queen, get mad with Sir King! Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! The queen said to him, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left Lady Queen. He went to rat. He said, “Rat, eat skirt of Lady Queen! Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Rat said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left rat. He went to cat. He said, “Cat, chase rat! rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Cat said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left cat. He went to dog. He said, “Dog, chase cat! Cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polontree, polon give me my grain of corn.”

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Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Dog said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left dog. He went to stick. He said, “Stick, beat dog! Dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Stick said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left stick. He went to fire. He said, “Fire, burn stick! Stick beat dog, dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Fire said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left fire. He went to water. He said, “Water, put out fire! fire burn stick, stick beat dog, dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Water said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left water. He went to bull. He said, “Bull, drink water! Water put out fire, fire burn stick, stick beat dog, dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Bull said, “I have nothing to do with it.” He left bull. He went to knife. He said, “Knife, kill bull! Bull drink water, water put out fire, fire burn stick, stick beat dog, dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polontree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice!

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The Northeast | The Twist-Mouth Family

Knife said nothing. He said again, “Knife, kill bull! Bull drink water, water put out fire, fire burn stick, stick beat dog, dog chase cat, cat chase rat, rat eat skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen get mad with Sir King, Sir King get mad with axe, axe cut down polon-tree, polon give me my grain of corn.” Ai, ai, ai! very sweet, very nice! Knife sounded ting! (like a bell.) Knife jumped, it fell into some grease, it jumped out again. It jumped to cut the throat of bull, bull drank water, water put out fire, fire burned stick, stick beat dog, dog chased cat, cat chased rat, rat ate the skirt of Lady Queen, Lady Queen got mad with Sir King, Sir King got mad with axe, axe cut down the polon-tree, the polon opened; the sparrow flew down, he got his grain of corn. Sparrow sang to Sir King, “I am the sparrow who had a case against you for seven years and one day, and who won it.”

THE TWIST-MOUTH FAMILY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Johnson, Clifton. “The Twist-Mouth Family.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 322–23. Date: 1905 Original Source: Massachusetts National Origin: Anglo American

The following comic tale has no serious intention. It is worth noting, however, that the difficulties the family has in blowing out the candle arise from flawed self-perception. Similarly, it is anatomy rather than education that leads to John’s success.

T

here was once a father and a mother and several children, and all but one of them had their mouths twisted out of shape. The one whose mouth was not twisted was a son named John.

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When John got to be a young man, he was sent to college, and on the day he came home for his first vacation the family sat up late in the evening to hear him tell of all he had learned. But finally they prepared to go to bed, and the mother said, “Father, will you blow out the light?” “Yes, I will,” was his reply. “Well, I wish you would,” said she. “Well, I will,” he said. So he blew, but his mouth was twisted, and he blew this way (the narrator shows how he did it—blowing upward), and he couldn’t blow out the light. Then he said, “Mother, will you blow out the light?” “Yes, I will,” was her reply. “Well, I wish you would,” said he. “Well, I will,” she said. So she blew, but her mouth was twisted, and she blew this way (blowing downward) and she couldn’t blow out the light. Then she spoke to her daughter and said, “Mary, will you blow out the light?” “Yes, I will,” was Mary’s reply. “Well, I wish you would,” said her mother. “Well, I will,” Mary said. So Mary blew, but her mouth was twisted, and she blew this way (blowing out of the right corner of the mouth), and she couldn’t blow out the light. Then Mary spoke to one of her brothers and said, “Dick, will you blow out the light?” “Yes, I will,” was Dick’s reply. “Well, I wish you would,” said Mary. “Well, I will,” Dick said. So Dick blew, but his mouth was twisted, and he blew this way (blowing out of the left corner of the mouth), and he couldn’t blow out the light. Then Dick said, “John, will you blow out the light?” “Yes, I will,” was John’s reply. “Well, I wish you would,” said Dick. “Well, I will,” John said. So John blew, and his mouth was straight, and he blew this way (blowing straight), and he blew out the light. The light was out and they were all glad that John had succeeded, and the father said, “What a blessed thing it is to have larnin’.”

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THE MIDWEST

Introduction

A

s defined in The Greenwood Library of American Folktales, the Midwest region includes the states of Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Ohio, Nebraska, and Wisconsin. Regions rarely follow the neat demarcations of political boundaries; therefore, there is considerable overlap between the westernmost areas of the Northeast and the eastern Midwest in terms of terrain and cultures. The resemblance diminishes as one travels west into the Great Plains, but even so influences persist. One point at which this is obvious is in the area of the Great Lakes (Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie, and Ontario), which constitutes the border between the two regions. While most of the Midwest is relatively flat prairie, this area proves one of the exceptions to the rule. Here the Great Lakes Basin allowed for the creation of a maritime subsistence on the part of the original Native American population and later the development of a maritime and a logging industry commemorated in narrative. Tall tales such as “It Was So Cold That...” (p. 216) and “Noggin and the Applejack” (p. 219) reveal the rigors of the logger’s life through hyperbole. Around the Great Lakes also are clustered the Algonquian cultures, who relied both on fishing as well as hunting and gathering for survival. The effect of these massive bodies of water are reflected in tales such as the Ojibway (also known as Chippewa) “The Flood” (p. 151). The effects of the Great Lakes endured in cultures such as the Mesquakie (Fox), Sauk, and Kickapoo, who were ultimately forced into the area of modern Iowa, Ohio, and Kansas. One account of this period from the Mesquakie perspective is given in “Wabasaiy” (p. 162), a legend describing the way in which the Ojibway (provided with


firearms by the French) drove the Fox from the shores of Lake Michigan. In a similar fashion, the Shawnee were pushed out of their original home into Ohio by the Iroquois. Although traditional rivalries existed between Native American cultures in the Great Lakes states, preexisting enmities escalated and new ones developed with French entry into the region in the seventeenth century as a result of European interest in the fur trade. When the English gained control of the territory in 1763, after the signing of the Treaty of Paris, which officially ended the French and Indian War, there was no change in European interest in the Great Lakes region. The marks of the French fur trade persist in tales such as “Turtle Trying to Get Credit” (p. 207). Other evidence of contact with European narrative persists in tales that show strong influence by ordinary folktale plots and motifs; among these are “Aiini” (p. 178), “Bear Maiden” (p. 173), and “Fox and Wolf” (p. 198). A more profound influence on the culture of the area came along with the pressure of increased settlement by whites in the years following the American Revolution. This tension erupted into conflicts such as the Winnebago War (1827) in Wisconsin and Blackhawk’s War (1832) in Illinois. Ultimately, many of the Algonquians were forced out or moved on to territories further to the south and west in the Midwest region. This resettlement brought them into conflicts with the established populations; one such skirmish is remembered in the Mesquakie legend “Battle with the Comanches” (p. 193). In any case, the nineteenth century saw a movement of Algonquian peoples into the states of Iowa, Kansas, and Nebraska, where they encountered both Southern Plains cultures such as the Shoshonean Comanches and Siouans such as the Omahas and Otos. Not only were Native Americans moving into the Midwest and the Plains, but European Americans were drawn to the fertile farmland that ultimately led the area to be labeled America’s “breadbasket.” In some cases, European immigrants bypassed the urban Northeast region to proceed directly to the interior of the country, yielding jokes about Irish tricksters such as “Dividing the Chicken” (p. 225). The personal experience narrative “A Pioneer Crossing the Midwest”(p. 243) suggests the rigors of these early passages and contains vignettes of encounters with two semi-legendary figures from the period: James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickock (1837–1876) and William Frederick “Buffalo Bill” Cody (1846–1917). The perils encountered during the pioneer period gave rise to local legends of natural disasters or Native American resistance to the whites as illustrated by “Providence Hole” (p. 236). Central to this narrative is the belief that protection by higher powers was available in times of need. The tall tale “Nebraska Weather” (p. 223) gives a less serious perspective on these matters.

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When the Civil War broke out, most of the Midwestern states were removed from the intense action of the more eastern states. The passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 and the ensuing struggle over establishing Kansas as a slave or free state led to the coining of the term “Bloody Kansas.” In the present volume, the personal experience narratives “General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana” (p. 247) and “General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana II: Ripley County” (p. 253) represent the effects of the Civil War on one section of the Midwest. Long before the arrival of Europeans on the Midwestern Plains, Native Americans such as the Dakota, Omaha, Oto, Ponca, Mandan, and Arikara had established lifestyles based on hunting and gathering and, in some cases, a combination of hunting and agriculture. These cultures are represented in the current volume by several Omaha narratives, including the myth of their trickster and culture hero Ictinike (“The Origin of Vegetation,” p. 158) and another trickster, Big Turtle (“How the Big Turtle Went on the Warpath,” p. 187); the animal fable “Muskrat’s Tail” (p. 168); the more sinister “The Rolling Skull” (p. 239); and by the Oto narrative “The Chief’s Daughters” (p. 176). These Native Americans were later joined by the Mesquakie, Shawnee, Kickapoo, and other Algonquian peoples who were crowded out of their original homes near the Great Lakes; these tribes brought with them myths of origin—“Why the Deer Has a Short Tail” (p. 170) and “Wisa`kä” (p. 159)—and legends, like “Legendary Origin of the Kickapoos” (p. 164). As urban centers developed—initially capitalizing on the Great Lakes and the Mississippi water for transportation and later on the transcontinental railways—cultures, lifestyles, and occupations diversified. Occupational folktales took a variety of forms, among them the tall tales of loggers discussed earlier; the personal experience narratives of professional athletes (“Boxer Davey Day,” p. 190); and the anecdotes of taxi drivers (“Cab Driver Con Man,” p. 194). A sense of region holds together the narratives of the Midwest, despite the diverse cultures and motives of those who made it their home, from the earliest Native Americans to the most contemporary urban immigrants moving from other nations or from rural areas in the pursuit of a wider range of options. The trickster figure makes an appearance in European, Native American, and African American repertoires. A sense of the land emerges, whether through humorous exaggeration or through detailing the relentless power of the climate. As cultures “rub against” one another, their tales “rub off” on each other, leaving the imprints of the cultures that have coexisted in this region.

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SUGGESTED READINGS Baker, Ronald L. Hoosier Folk Legends. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982. Dorson, Richard M. Bloodstoppers and Bearwalkers. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1952. Gard, Robert E., and L. G. Sorden. Wisconsin Lore: Antics and Anecdotes of Wisconsin People and Places. New York: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1962. Pound, Louise. Nebraska Folklore. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1959. Welsch, Roger. Shingling the Fog and Other Plains Lies. Chicago: Swallow, 1972. Williams, Mentor L., ed. Schoolcraft’s Indian Legends. East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1956.

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ORIGINS THE FLOOD Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Radin, Paul, and A. B. Reagan. “Ojibwa Myths and Tales: The Manabozho Cycle.” Journal of American Folklore 41 (1928): 71–76. Date: 1911–1914. Original Source: Ojibwa (Great Lakes) National Origin: Native American

Manabozho is the preeminent trickster in the Algonquin cultures of the North and Northeastern Woodlands. In this myth, however, his primary role is that of a culture hero who cleanses the environment of monstrous sea lions and snakes, making the world safe for human life. His supernatural power is demonstrated further by powers of prophesy, resurrection of the dead, and shape-shifting. Beyond the culture hero’s usual role of transforming a preexisting world, Manabozho creates a world by using an “earthdiver” (see p. 9).

M

anabozho, as he is known to the Indians, is the Eastern God. When he was a boy he lived with his grandmother. His father and mother had been killed in war. When he became of age, he prepared to go to war.


The enemy (the sea lion) that had killed his parents lived on an island surrounded by water. Surrounding this island and extending to a distance of a mile and a half from shore was floating pitch-like ice, such that a canoe could not get ashore over it. He asked his grandmother for advice but she told him it was futile for him to fight with the sea lion that lived on that island. However, Manabozho was determined. He made a large canoe and covered it with tallow so that it would float and go through the pitch that surrounded the island. The purpose of the pitch was to catch the canoe in it; after which the sea lion would come out and devour the canoe and its occupants. When Manabozho had completed his canoe, he made a good bow and prepared plenty of arrows to fight with. After everything was ready, he started on the warpath. When he had launched his canoe, he told his grandmother to go ahead of him with another canoe in a zigzag course up the channel for a little way. (This custom of having the women precede a war party for a little way on its start was long afterwards followed by the Chippewas in starting on the warpath against the Sioux.) So Manabozho started on his war expedition. After considerable labor in paddling and pushing his canoe through and over the pitch-like ice, he landed safely on the island in the night. There on the shore he stayed till the break of day. At dawn, he gave a war-whoop and ran toward the chief’s house, the sea-monster’s home. Upon hearing the war-whoop, the chief jumped from his bed and got his bow and arrows. The two powerful beings started to fight in accordance with the powers with which they were endowed by their superior givers. The fight was terrible. They fought two days continually without killing each other, and rested on their arms, with the contest undecided. But Manabozho had advisors at hand. On the evening following the second day’s battle, Batter, the bird called Bluejay, accosted Manabozho and said, “You cannot kill the Sea lion by shooting him in the body. His heart and vital parts are not in his body. I will tell you where his heart is if you will promise to give me some meat from his dead carcass.” With open mouth and wide eyes, Manabozho listened to Batter’s statements and advice until he was through, then replied: “My brother, if you will tell me where the chief Sea lion’s heart is, I will give you the meat and make you chief of the Blue jays and all carnivorous birds.” “In truth,” spoke up Batter, as he flew to a limb over Manabozho so as to be heard more easily without talking loud enough to be heard by anyone else, “this monster’s heart is in his little toe. Aim for the little toe the next time you go into battle with him, and you will succeed in killing him.” The morning of the third day, Manabozho started again to fight after giving a war-whoop. The chief Sea lion came out with his full equipment for another

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battle. The fight had begun. Manabozho aimed for the little toe of his adversary. The arrow struck the mark squarely and penetrated the vital organs. The chief Sea lion keeled over and died. Seeing him fall, Manabozho ran towards him, pulled his knife out and cut the chief’s scalp off. He then set out for his canoe and sailed across to the place where he had left his grandmother, singing his song of victory as he went, as the Indians used to sing when returning from the battlefield. When the grandmother heard Manabozho coming, singing his song of victory, she started out to meet him in her canoe, and nearing the canoe of her grandson she took the scalp from him and set out ahead toward the shore. Landing, she called the village neighbors, and all began to have the war dance around the scalp in the middle of the dance hall, as it was the custom of the Indians to dance the war dance in the past. Thus they danced till they had completed the ceremony. Then they smoked the pipe of peace. After the close of the four-days dance over the scalp of the chief Sea lion, Manabozho bid his grandmother good-bye, and started west over the earth. After four days of journeying, he met four wolves. One of the four was a chief. Meeting him, they then accompanied him for four days. As he thus journeyed west with them, he noticed every evening when they camped for the night that they would pile sticks in a heap and the Chief Wolf would jump over the pile four times. Then the wood would catch fire without the aid of any firestarter. So Manabozho learned this manner of starting fires from the chief. As they traveled about, young wolves came along behind and chased down the moose and deer and killed them as they were needed. Then they would dress and cook them and all would eat to their satisfaction. So all were happy. After journeying four days with the wolf pack, Manabozho took one of the young wolves to accompany him, and leaving the rest of the wolves, he continued on his way west. He called the young wolf his nephew. The first night after they had parted company with the rest of the wolves, Manabozho had a bad dream. The next morning he told his nephew to be careful, as he was to chase a moose that morning, a moose which they had tracked the evening before, and he warned his nephew on account of his dream. This he told his nephew as he was about to start for the hunt. He continued, “In chasing this moose you are tracking whenever you come to a little stream always cut a tree down and walk across on it. Don’t jump over. Be careful, I had a bad dream about you in connection with this chase.” The nephew started out on the chase, and Manabozho followed his tracks. Soon the nephew came to a little stream. He felled a tree across the stream as he had been instructed by his uncle Manabozho. Over this he crossed safely.

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After a while he came to another very small stream. This he thought he would jump over, as it seemed much too small to take time to cut a tree down on which to cross. In addition he could see the moose only just a little way farther on staggering with fatigue, and by crossing immediately, he could soon overtake it. He could even taste fresh meat, he imagined, so sure was he of the moose. So he jumped. As he jumped, the stream swelled instantly into a raging torrent and swept him away; it became a large river through the power of the great Snake God living a little way off from the outlet near a point that projected into the open lake. It was on an island just beyond this sand point that the Snake God and other snakes and bears lived, animals that live in the water. Here to this island home the wolf was taken a prisoner, killed and skinned and his hide used to cover the doorway of the lodge where the snakes go in and out. Manabozho, following along behind, tracked his nephew to this second stream, now a big river. He found that his nephew’s tracks ended there. He knew at once that he had disobeyed his orders of the morning, to cut a tree and place it across every stream he came to. He had cut one tree down and had crossed the stream there safely; but now he had disobeyed orders. He had tried to jump the stream but had been caught by the current, and the stream getting larger and swifter as it passed on toward the lake, had taken him out with it to the residence of the Chief Snake God, who had then killed him and placed his hide as a door cover for the snake-passage. Finding that his nephew’s tracks ended at the stream crossing and that he had undoubtedly been swept out into the lake by the stream, Manabozho started down its winding course, hoping that he might find his nephew stranded and alive yet, or that he might be lucky enough to find his body, if dead. As he neared the stream’s mouth he saw a bird looking down into the water. He sneaked slowly up to it. When it was within reach, he made a grab for its head, but unfortunately he just missed his hold and merely ruffled the feathers on the back of its head and neck. (The bird was a kingfisher; the top bunch of feathers on his head became a pompadour.) Having escaped the bird flew away a short distance and lit. Then looking back and seeing Manabozho he said: “I would have told you where your nephew was had you not grabbed me by the head as you did.” But Manabozho was equal to the occasion, for he knew the vanity of living beings. So he said to the bird, “Come over and tell me and I will make you a pretty bird.” Then the bird flew near to Manabozho and told him that his nephew had been killed by the Chief Snake who lived near the sand point yonder. He told him further that the snakes and bears and other water beasts came out to sun themselves about noon on the sand point each nice day and that the

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Chief Snake would be the last to come ashore to sun himself and take a nap. Manabozho thanked the bird for the information and made a nice bird of him, rubbed his breast with white clay and painted his back blue. Having completed his conversation with the bird, Manabozho started for the sand point, after he had made a strong bow and had prepared bullrush tops for arrows. When he got near the sand beach he said to himself, “I will be a treestump.” So he turned into a stump of a poplar tree. After a while, as the sun ascended the heavens, the snakes came out to sun themselves on the sandy beach as they were wont to do, the white bears coming last. Then the Chief Snake came. The others had noticed nothing; but the Chief Snake at once noticed the tree-stump. “What is that?” he exclaimed instantly. On scanning it further, he said, “I believe that is Manabozho standing there.” Then he turned to another of the snakes and said, “You go and coil around that stump and squeeze it hard.” So the snake did as he was bidden. He went to the stump, coiled himself around it and squeezed it; but Manabozho never moved. After the snake had tried this for a considerable time, he gave it up and went back to where the Chief Snake was, saying, “That can’t be Manabozho.” But the Chief Snake was not satisfied. He turned to the white bear and commanded him also to examine the supposed stump, saying to him, “You go and climb on that stump to the top and slide down so as to scratch it as you come down.” The bear did as he was told and Manabozho nearly squealed, but he never moved. Going back to his master, the bear then said, “That can’t be Manabozho.” So the Chief Snake was satisfied. He came ashore and stretched himself on the sand to sun himself. Then after all the reptiles were fast asleep, Manabozho turned into a man again, took out his bow and arrows and went near the chief snake and shot him in the body; but the Chief Snake never moved. Then Manabozho remembered what the kingfisher had told him, that to injure the Chief Snake he must shoot his shadow. This time Manabozho shot the Chief Snake’s shadow. Instantly he stretched out and gasped in awful pain. Seeing this, Manabozho started to run back to get a few logs together to make a raft. The kingfisher had told him that if he wounded the Chief Snake, he would flood the world as high as the topmost tree; that then the water would go down again; but that if he killed him, the dying reptile would destroy the whole world with a mighty flood. The water had already begun to rise. So Manabozho got on the little raft he had succeeded in making and floated about, as he watched the water rise until the trees all disappeared. Then the water went slowly down again.

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After it was dry on the earth, Manabozho went back to tell the Chief Wolf what had happened. After narrating this to the wolf tribe, he went back to the lake where he had the encounter with the Chief Snake. He knew by the fact that the world was not destroyed completely that the Chief Snake had only been wounded, and he had it in his mind to kill him, whatever the consequence might be. As he was walking along the shore of the lake, he heard something rattling. Looking ahead, he saw a large frog-like old lady jumping along. She had a rattle which she used in doctoring. She also had a pack of basswood bark on her back. “Hello, grandma,” shouted Manabozho to her, “where are you going?” “I am going to the Chief Snake’s house to doctor him,” answered the frog-lady. “Why, what is the matter with the Chief Snake, grandma?” “Why, a great god Manabozho shot the Chief Snake for revenge.” “Grandma, teach me your medicine song,” broke in Manabozho, “I will pay you.” So, tempted with the promised pay, the old medicine-frog-lady told Manabozho all about her doctoring and medicine songs. Then Manabozho, after he had learned all she could impart to him, killed her, skinned her, then put the skin on himself, took the rattle and the pack of basswood bark and started for the village where the Chief Snake lived. On the way, he stopped where the old frog-lady lived and there he made himself at home and waited. That evening a messenger came saying, “Grandma, you are invited again to come and doctor the chief.” “All right,” answered Manabozho. Then imitating the old frog-lady, he started to finish his killing of the Chief Snake. As he journeyed toward the home of the King Snake he got a lot of trees together for a raft, in case he should need them. Getting everything ready, he continued on his journey to the Chief Snake’s house. As he neared the door, he noticed his nephew’s skin hanging as a curtain in the doorway. The sight of it made him feel so bad that he almost cried. They, thinking he was the old medicine-frog-lady, invited him into the house, and he entered. They led him to the room where the Chief Snake lay very sick. On entering the room, Manabozho took his rattles and started to sing the medicine songs he had learned from the aged frog-lady. As he sang he crawled nearer and nearer to the chief’s side. As he did so, he saw that the arrow that he had shot that previous time was still imbedded in his flesh with the broken end sticking out. He waited. At the opportune moment, he pushed the arrow completely in and instantly killed the chief, as he had intended. Immediately he fled from the house, singing

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to cover his tracks and to prevent suspicion. He knew the consequence of his act, and set out with all speed for his raft arriving there none too soon. While Manabozho was still running, the water began to rise, and by the time he reached his raft it was knee-deep. He got on top of the raft just as it began to float away. The whole world was immediately submerged. In this catastrophe the animals began to swim around the raft trying to get somewhere safe from the raging waters. Some succeeded in getting up on the raft—all that could; others hung on. For three days they were floating as if it were an ocean and they were in the middle of it; there was no land to be seen anywhere. The whole land surface had been swallowed up. One thing Manabozho had forgotten before he got aboard his raft: he had forgotten to get a handful of dirt from the earth. So on the morning of the fourth day of the flood, he called a council, saying, “We must do something. We cannot stay here on this raft for all time. We must get some dirt.” So he chose four divers: Beaver, Otter, Loon, and Muskrat. These were to try to secure some earth from the bottom of the sea so as to be able to start land again. Beaver first dove down but died before he reached the bottom of the waters. The Otter dove likewise but died and floated lifeless on the water. Then the Loon went down and down and returned again without anything. He had seen it but had lost his life just as he was nearing the green land and the trees. He floated dead near the raft and Manabozho brought him back to life by blowing his breath into his face. The Muskrat then started to dive downward. For two days nothing was seen of him. At last, however, he floated again on the water’s surface near the raft, dead and all doubled up. They pulled him aboard. Then Manabozho blew life into him again and examined him to see what he had found. In the Muskrat’s hands he found a little earth and sand, also in his feet and mouth, also a leaf and some seed. Having obtained the coveted gifts of earth, Manabozho dried them in his hands and caused them to increase till he had a hand full of them. The re-creation of the world was at hand. Being all ready for the great work before him, Manabozho held his hand filled with dirt, sand, and seed up to his face, palm up. At once he began to blow his breath strongly over the lump and blow particles of it off around the raft. In this way he formed an island. At once the animals left the raft and began to roam around on the land surface, but Manabozho kept on blowing the particles from his hand out further and further, thus extending the land area. He kept on blowing till the “land extended beyond human sight.” He then sent the raven to fly around the earth (land) to see how big it was. He was gone for two days, then returned. Manabozho said, “That’s too small.” So he blew more and more sand. Then he sent the Dove to see how large

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the earth was. But it was so large that the Dove never came back. Manabozho was satisfied that the world was big enough. Then he started to plant things, including the great forest of the Northwest. Having completed his re-creation of the earth, he departed for his home. Manabozho now lives down East, the great chief of all spirits of the Indians. He conquered and killed the great enemy of mankind, the Chief Snake God. If Indians live good lives, according to the teachings of the Grand Medicine Lodge, they will be guided to the happy hunting ground when they die, there to be forever happy, happy throughout all eternity with Manabozho, their elder brother.

THE ORIGIN OF VEGETATION Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dorsey, J. Owen. “Omaha Folklore Notes.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 313–14. Date: 1888 Original Source: Omaha National Origin: Native American

The Omaha originated in Ohio and eventually settled in Nebraska. In this myth, Ictinike represents a relatively powerful but bumbling trickster who is the central character in their tales.

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fter the first creation Ictinike married, and had his own lodge. He said to his wife, “I will go to visit your grandfather, the Beaver.” He did not take his wife with him. On arriving at the Beaver’s lodge he found that there was nothing for him to eat. The youngest of the Beaver’s four sons said that he would be the food for the guest. So the father killed him. When the meal was ready the Beaver warned Ictinike not to break a single bone. But the latter cracked a bone of the toe with his teeth. The bones were collected and put into the skin of the young beaver, which was plunged into the water. In a moment

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the young beaver emerged, alive again, but with one defective toe. And from that time it has been so with all beavers. When the Beaver returned the visit Ictinike wished to kill one of his children, but the Beaver would not allow this, furnishing one of his own sons again, and bringing him back to life by his magic power. Ictinike’s next visit was made to the Muskrat. The latter told his wife to get a kettle of water from the stream and put it over the fire to boil. When it had boiled sufficiently the Muskrat overturned the kettle, and lo, there was plenty of rice. The Muskrat also created human beings, and “the roots of trees,” so an Omaha said. When the Muskrat visited Ictinike the latter tried to make rice, but failed. Then the Muskrat made it again. The third visit of Ictinike was made to the Blue Kingfisher, who made all the fishes. When the Kingfisher returned the visit Ictinike tried to imitate him, clinging to a large white willow that was beside a stream, and bearing down its branches, whence he dived into the water after a fish. Of course he failed, and when rescued by the Kingfisher he had his fill of water! The Flying Squirrel was the last one visited. The Flying Squirrel (Singa) ran to the top of his lodge, taking an awl, with which he stabbed himself, and immediately down fell plenty of black walnuts. Singa was the creator of all kinds of nuts. When he visited Ictinike the latter tried to make nuts by stabbing himself, but he only drew blood.

WISA`KÄ Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Jones, William. “Notes on the Fox Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 24 (1911): 209–11. Date: 1911 Original Source: Fox (Mesquakie) National Origin: Native American

The Native American group called the Fox by European Americans call themselves the Mesquakie (“People of the Red Earth”). The common

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label resulted from confusion when members of the Fox clan told the French they were Fox. The following myth gives a brief history of their major deity, Wisa`kä, his flight from malevolent manitous (supernatural beings that were believed to be embodied in and to control nature), and his creation of the world by the agency of the “earthdiver” (p. 9). The fate of Wisa`kä’s visitors further explains why his residence is no longer accessible to humans.

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isa`kä now lives far off in a place where it is always winter. It is so far away that nobody can go there. Once on a time long ago he lived here on earth, he and his younger brother. At that time the manitous became angered against the brothers, and met in council to devise means how they should best do to kill them. They succeeded in killing the younger brother, but with Wisa`kä they could not accomplish their purpose. First they tried fire, and then they used water. They searched for him everywhere; they made a great roar and a din as they moved in their search. The water drove him to flight upon a high mountain. He had to climb a tall pine on top of the mountain. From thence he took to a canoe which slid off the top of the pine, and about over the water he went a-paddling. A turtle-dove fetched him some twigs, and a muskrat brought him up some mud. With the mud he made a small ball, and into the ball he stuck the twigs. He flung them together into the water. The ball grew so fast that the water straightway subsided. The earth we now live upon was from the little mud ball which Wisa`kä flung into the water. Once on a time six men set out to visit Wisa`kä in his lodge at the north. The journey was far, and full of toil. On the way they had to pass over the place where the sun goes down. It was an abyss, and not easy to pass. They watched the mouth close and open; back it closed and opened again. Five men stepped safely across when it closed; but one lost his footing, and fell in. The men had no means of rescuing their comrade, and so had to go on without him. They came to a sea; and while they looked out on the water, they beheld a narrow sheet of land floating towards them; it approached with the side towards the shore. When the shores touched together, over they hopped, and out to sea they floated. They were carried to the shore of another land. They stepped across on the strange shore. There was land all the way from this place to the lodge of Wisa`kä. They saw the lodge from afar, and it was

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beautiful to look upon. They drew nigh and beheld two doors in the lodge; one opened at the south, the other at the north. Within sat Wisa`kä, he and his grandmother, Mother-of-all-the-Earth. Both were seated on a mat on the ground; they sat beside each other, and before a fire. “Behold, and here have come my uncles!” said Wisa`kä . “Be seated.” Then he said to his grandmother, “My grandmother, fix food for them to eat.” And Mother-of-all-the-Earth rose and began to prepare food. She laid a mat in front of her grandchildren; on the mat she set wooden bowls, and in the bowls was a mixture of buffalo-meat and hominy. The buffalo-meat had been cured over a fire and in the sun, and then pounded in a mortar; the hominy had been ground into meal. Both were put together in one dish, and her grandchildren had never before eaten any food so delicious. When they had eaten, they sat back, and smoked the tobacco which Wisa`kä had given them to smoke. Long they smoked, and in silence. By and by Wisa`kä asked, “What do you wish, and why have you come? Surely you must have come for something.” One spoke, and said, “I seek to know the ways of women, for I wish to find myself a suitable wife among the women at home. For this reason I have come, and I ask that I may take the power with me; I wish to pass it on to others who may long for the same thing.” Wisa`kä made reply, and said, “You ask for a great gift. But you have been a good man, and you have come from afar. For this reason I give what you ask.” Another spoke, and said, “I come for power to heal the sick and to make possible long life.” Wisa`kä said, “The pine lives a long time, and then dies; but the granite lives on forever.” And then he transformed the man into a granite boulder. A third man said, “I come to ask for power to prevail over those who play against me at lacrosse, who run against me in a foot-race, who take sides against me in all games of chance.” Wisa`kä gave to the man what he asked. The fourth man said, “I come to ask for the power that will enable me to get game with ease. I wish for the power that will guide me straight to the place that game of all kind frequents.” And Wisa`kä gave the man his wish. Then Wisa`kä loosed the cord from his moccasin and held it over the fire. The cord shrank to half of its former length. He held it up, and said, “Thus, by half, is the length of your journey shortened.” The men rose and departed, and went by the way they came. They arrived at home in half the time that it had taken them to go to the lodge of their nephew. Verily, the journey was shortened by half, as Wisa`kä had said.

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The men lived and practiced every one his own peculiar power. But the power of the hunter had evil effects. It worked ill with everyone who chanced to cross the path along which it had been carried. It wrought weakness to the body, and shortened life. None dared to live neighbor to him who held the power.

WABASAIY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Jones, William. “Notes on the Fox Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 24 (1911): 231–33. Date: 1911 Original Source: Fox (Mesquakie) National Origin: Native American

This Mesquakie legend gives one version of the story of their migration from their original home on the shores of Lake Michigan after a running battle with their traditional enemies, the Ojibwas. During the conflict between the British and the French, the Mesquakie were British sympathizers. Armed by the French, the Ojibway were sent by their patrons to fight against the Mesquakie. The Sauk, as the legend claims, were historically allied with the Mesquakie; therefore, the warning of the Fox by the Sauk and Kickapoo is plausible. The “fort” mentioned in the legend is a village fortified with log palisades. Deification of leaders such as Wabasaiy is a common feature of narratives in this category.

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abasaiy was a chief of the Foxes when they dwelt by the sea. He was not mortal, he came from the manitous of the sky country. He was chief when the nations came against the Foxes and surrounded them on every side. In the camp of the foe were some Sauks and Kickapoos. These stole into the Fox camp, and warned the people of what would happen if the enemy prevailed; they warned the Foxes that they would all be slain, all of them together, men,

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women, and children. The Sauks and Kickapoos advised them to make an escape, and promised them help to accomplish it. Thereupon one evening a young man began to beat upon a drum and to sing a song. The song he sang was a manitou song, and it put the enemy to sleep and caused the snow to fall. The snow fell all night and piled up high; and while it snowed, a man went outside with a rawhide rope. He dragged it over the snow and made a trail, which the people followed. He led them eastward to a place where they fortified themselves. At the same time a great host of young men slipped through the circle of the enemy, and went in another direction; they made a wide path in the snow purposely to draw the enemy into pursuit. The enemy awoke in the morning, and found that the Foxes had left their camp. Straightway they began to look for them; and when they found the wide trail, they fell in, and followed it up until they came upon the young men waiting in battle array. They rushed at the Foxes, and, oh, what a fight! The Foxes held ground until they thought that the old men, women, and children had secured and fortified themselves, and then they gave way. They fled toward the fort, and made it without being cut off. The foes came with a rush, and flung themselves against the fort; but they were beaten back as often as they came. They were unable to make a breach. So many of them fell, that they lost heart and withdrew. By and by the Foxes felt it safe to leave the stronghold. They went with haste toward the northwest, and came to a place where the seas joined with narrow waters. The straits were frozen; and they were passing over the ice when up from behind came the enemy on the run. They had the women and children pass on ahead, while they set themselves in array and waited. As they watched the foe come on, lo, they beheld that they were only the Ojibwas, the nation that had taken the lead in all the war. The fight took place there on the ice, and it went ill with the Ojibwas. Some got away, but most went under the broken ice. After this fight, the Foxes had no further trouble with the enemy. They continued their flight on a westward course; and when they had come to a great distance, they swung round toward the south. They kept going till they came to the country of Green Bay and Wisconsin River. There they tarried; and, liking the country so well, they decided to abide there and make the place their home. This was not altogether pleasant for the people living round about. As a result, the Foxes had to fight them to hold what they held. On the north were the Ojibwas and Menominees; on the west were the Sioux. With these nations they were ever at war. At last, but still holding claim to the country, they moved

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southward into the Rock River country, where their friends the Sauks lived. They joined themselves with these people, partly with the object of protecting themselves, and partly with the purpose of becoming stronger so as to hit back at their enemies. The Sauks had come from the northeast, somewhere south of the sea. They were at peace with the Foxes on the north. After long years there came to be much going to and fro between the two peoples, Sauks to the Foxes, and the Foxes to the Sauks. In time the two peoples began to get wives from each other; and since the language was so nearly alike, it was easy for them to make an alliance. This kept up until the Sauks began to have trouble with the white man over the possession of the Rock River country. The Foxes as a nation took no part in the dispute. They moved across the Mississippi to a country which they claimed as a hunting-ground. Here they began to dwell when the Sauks went to war with the white man and the Indian nations that helped him. And here, when the war was over, came the Sauks, who found an asylum and a place of refuge. Both peoples lived in a way like one nation, but they had different chiefs and different villages. This continued so till they went to Kansas; and while there, they began to grow wider apart. Finally the Foxes were not satisfied with the way the Sauks were trying to control matters of common interest, and so went back to Iowa. Maminwaniga was chief of the Foxes then.

LEGENDARY ORIGIN OF THE KICKAPOOS Tradition Bearer: Lenexa Source: Spencer, J. “Shawnee Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 325–26. Date: 1860 Original Source: Shawnee National Origin: Native American

Driven from their original home by the Iroquois, the Shawnee settled in the Midwest. If this legend does date to a period when the Kickapoo and Shawnee people were in close proximity, this would probably be no later

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than the seventeenth century, when the Kickapoo and Shawnee both are believed to have resided in areas south of the Great Lakes.

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n the early days ten Shawnees went on a bear hunt, and were gone many days. When the hunt was finished, they made, as was their custom, a bear’sfoot feast. With the Indian the bear’s feet, and especially the fore-feet, are a great delicacy. When Indians went on a hunt, the feet of the bears killed were carefully saved for the feast at the termination of the hunt. On the occasion of which I am telling, the feet, as was the custom, were put in a kettle and hung over the fire to cook. It took quite a time for them to cook, as it does hogs’ feet. While they were cooking, the hunters lay down to sleep, three on one side of the fire, and seven on the other. Some time in the night one of the seven men awoke and examined the feet to see if they were cooked enough to eat, but, finding they were not, lay down again and went to sleep. After some time one of the three awoke and examined the feet to see if they were sufficiently done; and he found that they were. He roused his two companions, and they ate all they wanted, and again lay down and went to sleep. Not long after that, one of the seven examined the feet; and when he found them ready to be eaten, he woke his friends, and then the three on the opposite side of the fire, and told them to get up and they would have their feast. The three told them they had had what they wanted, and that the seven could have what was left. So they began to eat, but soon discovered that their companions had eaten the fore-feet, and had left only the small hind-feet for them. This made the seven so angry that they drove the others from camp, forbidding them ever to return to the Shawnee tribe. So they went off for themselves, and from them originated the Kickapoo tribe.

THE ORIGIN OF THE SAUKS AND FOXES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Jones, William. “Notes on the Fox Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 24 (1911): 211–12. Date: 1911

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Original Source: Fox (Mesquakie) National Origin: Native American

Origin of the Sauks (Fox Version)

The “great manitou” alluded to in the following tale is Gitche Manitou, the major personification of the abstract supernatural force called manitous. The lesser manitous were often identified with animals, but the force could be embodied in virtually any material or phenomenon. The name “Sauk” is an Anglicization of the name “Osagiwag`” given in the following tale. Although the Sauk and Fox were allied, they maintained a sense of individuality. The following myth is one way the Fox claim separation and a sense of superiority.

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he Foxes are an ancient people, more ancient than all others; and every nation that ever came on a visit bore testimony to the fact. They are even so ancient that none among them ever knew when first the Foxes came upon earth. It must have been a great while ago when the great manitou placed the first of our people here on earth. They dwelt a long time by the sea. Old men used to congregate at the shore, where they could sit and look out over the sea. On one of these occasions they beheld an object coming from afar, and making straight for the shore where they were. They watched, and saw that it was a huge fish. For a while its head reared above water; and when it ducked beneath, up came the tail a-switching. Thus it came, first the head out of the water, and then the tail. When the fish drew nigh, the people saw that its head was like the head of a man, and they were astonished. They watched it come to the shore, and when it arrived in water too shallow for swimming, it rose; and every part that was lifted out of water became the same as a man. The tail was the last to change; it became legs and feet after leaving the water behind. Behind the strange being came a great school of other fishes, and the same thing happened to them. They changed from fishes into people. They went up from the water and followed their leader. He was bigger and taller than all the rest. He was their chief. He led them off to a place close by the town, and there

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they made themselves the same kind of a town. Everything they saw they copied. Everything they saw the Foxes do, they went and did the same. The Foxes asked them who they were, why they left the sea, what manner of life they had while there. But the new folk were unable to tell. All they knew was that they had lived in the sea, that one day they followed their chief inshore, and became transformed into people when they quit the water. Nothing more could they tell. Thereupon, because they knew naught of themselves while in the sea, the Foxes named them Osagiwag`, which is “people who come out into the open.” They gave the name as a symbol to show that they came from under the water, that they came out from one kind of creatures and entered the form of another, and that they came out of one manner of life and entered into another which they knew nothing of before. It was a sign that they came out to become a race of people.

Creation of the Fox

The Fox myth of creation establishes the justification for the tribal name Mesquakie (“People of the Red Earth”). The prophecy of a return to the first “golden age” of the Fox provides hope to a conquered and displaced people.

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he Fox was the first of men on earth. He came before all others. He was red at the face, at the hands, at the legs, all over his body everywhere. He was red, like the color of the blood within him. Such was the way he was made by Wisa`kä, and such was the way he looked when his maker let him step forth on earth among the manitous. Among the manitous he mingled. He was present at their councils, and had the right of speech. The manitous looked upon him with wonder, and made comment when he passed in and out among them. He was very much of a manitou. Afterwards came other Foxes, manitous like the first. By and by they grew great in number. As time went on, they took on the form, the looks, and the nature, of the people that they now are.

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Things have changed since those times. The people are now in distress. They no longer reap the good of the land which is theirs; little by little it is slipping from their hands. Bird and animal kind is vanishing, and the world is not as it was in the beginning. With all this the manitou is displeased. On some day in the future the manitou will take it upon himself to destroy this earth. He will then create it anew, and place his chosen to dwell there once more. In that day the Fox will look as he did in the beginning; he will be red all over the body, red as the blood within him.

MUSKRAT’S TAIL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fletcher, Alice C. “Glimpses of Child-Life Among the Omaha Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 120–21. Date: 1888 Original Source: Omaha National Origin: Native American

The Omaha, a gardening and hunting culture of Nebraska, believed that tales, even those intended to amuse children, should not be told in summer. During summer it was said that snakes might overhear these tales “and do mischief.” Although explanatory and set in a period reminiscent of myth, “Muskrat’s Tale” is best classified as an animal fable. The concluding paragraph supplies context provided by folklorist Alice C. Fletcher.

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ong ago the muskrat had a long, broad tail. It was very useful, and gave the muskrat much pleasure. The beavers, who had no tails at that time, used to watch the muskrat build dams and dwellings, and they were filled with envy. They saw how the muskrat enjoyed himself when he sat upon his tail and slid down the hills. So the beavers lay in wait for the muskrat. Suddenly they seized him. Some of the beavers took the muskrat by the head, while others caught hold of his tail

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The Midwest | How the Wildcat Got Its Spots

and pulled. Finally the broad tail came out, and left the muskrat with only a thin little stem of a tail. The victorious beavers put on the broad tail, and were able to do all that the muskrat had done. The muskrat was desolate. He wandered over the country, wailing for the loss of his tail. The animals he met offered him such tails as they had, but he despised their offers, and gave them hard words in return. It was the gopher that sang this song, and all the other animals repeated it to the muskrat as he went about crying: “Ground-tail, Ground-tail, you who dragged your tail over the ground; Ground-tail, Ground-tail!” * * * s the grandfather sings, slapping his thigh to keep the time, up jump the children and begin to dance, bending their knees and bringing down their brown feet with a thud on the ground. The baby crows and jumps, and the old man sings the song over and over again, until finally the dancers flag, and sleep comes easily to the tired children.

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HOW THE WILDCAT GOT ITS SPOTS Tradition Bearer: Charles Bluejacket Source: Spencer, J. “Shawnee Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 323. Date: 1860 Original Source: Shawnee National Origin: Native American

The Shawnees, who settled in the Ohio area during the nineteenth century, originally were divided into twelve clans named for animals: Bear, Deer, Eagle, Owl, Panther, Rabbit, Raccoon, Snake, Turkey, Turtle, Wildcat, and Wolf. Competition among clans is common, and humorous tales told by one clan about the totem of another reflect this rivalry in playful contexts.

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long time ago a Wildcat pursued a Rabbit, and was about to catch him, when the Rabbit ran into a hollow tree. The Wildcat took a position in front of the entrance, and told the Rabbit that he would remain there until the Rabbit, from hunger, would be compelled to come out; that he need not think of escape. After a time the Rabbit said he would come out and let the Wildcat make a meal of him on one condition, and that was that the Wildcat should make a fire in front of the tree, saying, that, as soon as a bed of coals sufficient to roast him had been prepared, he would come out and be roasted; that he did not want to be eaten raw. The Wildcat built the fire as directed; and when the sticks were burned to coals, he settled himself on his haunches and notified the Rabbit that all was ready, whereat the Rabbit gave a spring, striking all his feet into the coals, knocking them into the face and over the breast of the Wildcat, and then escaping. This burned the hair in spots in the cat’s breast; and when it grew out again, it was white. This is why the wildcat has white spots on its breast. This story was told by a member of the Rabbit Clan as a good joke on the Wildcat Clan.

WHY THE DEER HAS A SHORT TAIL Tradition Bearer: Mrs. J. A. Stinson Source: Spencer, J. “Shawnee Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 323–24. Date: 1860 Original Source: Shawnee National Origin: Native American

There is little background available on this myth. Wolf, Snake, and Deer are all traditional Shawnee clans. The clans are bonded together in mutual assistance groups called phratries, and each of these three clans is in a competing phratry. The events of the myth may be intended to explain the historical clan oppositions. The Shawnee denounced “witchcraft”; therefore, the brother’s use of the snakes who were “evil spirits” would have been seen as an antisocial act.

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The Midwest | Why the Deer Has a Short Tail

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nce there was a brother and sister who lived alone in their lodge. The brother said one morning, “I want to hunt, for we must have some meat.” He put some water in a shell in a corner of the lodge, and told his sister not to drink it, for, if he were killed while out hunting, the water would turn red, and thus give her warning. Then, telling her not to parch the little ears of corn, he went off into the forest. After her brother had gone away, she began to think, “What is the mystery about this corn, that I should not pop it? But I am going to see.” So after a while she got down the little ears of corn, and shelled the kernels off the cob, and began to pop the corn. It popped, and the little grains became large and white, and smelled good. She popped and popped; and the little lodge became fuller and fuller of the white corn, until finally, when it was all popped, she was crowded back against the wall. Then she heard the deer coming, for they smelled the corn. They crowded up to the door and began to eat. More deer came, little and big; and they ate and ate, and finally they had eaten all the corn. Then they looked around to see if there was anything else they could eat. She had hidden under a skin in a corner; but they saw the skin move, and they told her to come out, and then they put her on the antlers of the big deer. Then they all went off together, the big deer first, the others following. When the brother came back, he saw what his sister had done, and he called up everything; and two big black snakes came to help him find his sister. He said, “Put your teeth together, and help me find my sister.” They did so, and carried him fast to find his sister. They were the evil spirits. They knew the way the deer went, and followed all day and all night, and the next day they saw the deer. When the deer saw the pursuit, they all gave up and stuck their heads in the ground, and the brother overtook them and got his sister. He then kicked the tails off of the deer and made them short. This was the punishment they received. Because his sister had disobeyed him, he painted her legs red; and she turned into a duck and went and swam in the creek. He himself turned into a wolf and went off hunting. They never turned back into people again.

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BEAR MAIDEN Tradition Bearer: Pa-skin Source: Jenks, Albert Ernest. “The Bear Maiden: An Ojibwa Folk-Tale from Lac Courte Oreille Reservation, Wisconsin.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 33–35. Date: 1899 Original Source: Ojibway National Origin: Native American

According to the author, Albert Ernest Jenks, the narrator Pa-skin was an elderly woman more than one hundred years old. Jenks suggests that the only European influences in this ordinary folktale enter with the horse, the bells, and the dishes at the end of the narrative. However, elements such as the pervasive patterns of threes, the success of the devalued younger of three siblings, and the winning of a spouse by performing extraordinary tasks for a chief (king) suggest a more extensive European impact.


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here was an old man and woman who had three daughters, two older ones, and a younger one who was a little bear. The father and mother got very old and could not work any longer, so the two older daughters started away to find work in order to support themselves. They did not want their little sister to go with them, so they left her at home. After a time they looked around, and saw the little Bear running to overtake them. They took her back home, and tied her to the door-posts of the wigwam, and again started away to find work; and again they heard something behind them, and saw the little Bear running toward them with the posts on her back. The sisters untied her from them and tied her to a large pine-tree. Then they continued on their journey. They heard a noise behind them once more, and turned around to find their younger sister, the little Bear, running to them with the pine-tree on her back. They did not want her to go with them, so they untied her from the pine-tree and fastened her to a huge rock, and continued on in search of work. Soon they came to a wide river which they could not get across. As they sat there on the shore wondering how they could cross the river, they heard a noise coming toward them. They looked up and saw their younger sister running to them with the huge rock on her back. They untied the rock, threw it into the middle of the river, laid a pine-tree on it, and walked across. This time the little Bear went with them. After a short journey they came to a wigwam where an old woman lived with her two daughters. This old woman asked them where they were going. They told her that their parents were old, and that they were seeking work in order to support themselves. She invited them in, gave them all supper, and after supper the two older sisters and the two daughters of the old woman went to sleep in the same bed. The old woman and the little Bear sat up, and the little Bear told many stories to the old woman. At last they both appeared to fall asleep. The little Bear pinched the old woman, and finding her asleep, went to the bed and changed the places of the four sleeping girls. She put the daughters of the old woman on the outside and her own sisters in the middle. Then she lay down as though asleep. After a short time the old woman awoke and pinched the little Bear to see whether she slept. She sharpened her knife and went to the bed and cut off the heads of the two girls at the outer edges of the bed. The old woman lay down and soon was sleeping. The little Bear awoke her sisters, and they all three crept away. In the morning when the old woman got up and found that she had killed her two daughters, she was very angry. She jumped up into the sky, and tore down the sun and hid it in her wigwam, so that the little Bear and her sisters

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would get lost in the dark. They passed on and on, and at last met a man carrying a light. He said he was searching for the sun. They passed on, and soon came to a large village where all of the men were going around with lights. Their chief was sick because the sun had vanished. He asked the little Bear whether she could bring back the sun. She said: “Yes, give me two hands full of maple-sugar and your oldest son.” With the maple-sugar she went to the wigwam of the old woman, and, climbing up to the top, threw the sugar into a kettle of wild rice which the old woman was cooking. When the old woman tasted the rice she found it too sweet, so she went away to get some water to put in the kettle, and the little Bear jumped down, ran into the wigwam, grabbed up the hidden sun, and threw it into the sky. When the little Bear returned to the village, she gave the oldest son of the chief to her oldest sister for a husband. The old woman was angry, very angry, to find that the sun was again up in the sky, so she jumped up and tore down the moon. The good old chief again became sick because the nights were all dark. He asked the little Bear whether she could bring back the moon. She said: “Yes, if you give me two handsful of salt and your next oldest son.” She took the salt, climbed on top of the wigwam of the old woman, and threw it into her boiling kettle. Again the old woman had to go away for water. The little Bear then ran into the wigwam, and, catching up the moon, tossed it into the sky. The little Bear returned to the village and gave the chief’s second son to her other sister. Again the old chief got sick, and he asked the little Bear whether she could get him his lost horse which was all covered with bells. She answered: “Yes, give me two handsful of maple-sugar and your youngest son.” The little Bear went to the old woman’s wigwam, and, doing as she had done before, she made the old woman go away for water. She then slipped into the wigwam and began taking the bells from the horse which was there. She led the horse outside, but she had neglected to take off one bell. The old woman heard the bell, and ran and caught the little Bear. She put the bells all back onto the horse, and put the little Bear into a bag and tied the bag to a limb of a tree. When this was done she went far away to get a large club with which to break the little Bear’s neck. While she was gone the little Bear bit a hole in the bag and got down. This time she took all of the bells from the horse, and then she caught all of the dogs and pet animals of the old woman, and put them and her dishes into the bag, and tied it to the limb. Pretty soon the old woman returned with her large club, and she began to beat the bag furiously. The little Bear could see from her hid-

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ing-place, and could hear the animals and hear the dishes breaking as the old woman struck the bag. When the little Bear took the horse to the chief, he gave her his youngest son. They lived close to the other two brothers and sisters. The little Bear’s husband would not sleep with her, so she became very angry, and told him to throw her into the fire. Her sisters heard the noise, and came in to see what the matter was. The young man told them what their sister had ordered him to do. When they went away he turned toward the fire, and a beautiful, very beautiful maiden sprang out from the flames. Then this beautiful maiden would not sleep with her husband.

THE CHIEF’S DAUGHTERS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kercheval, George Truman. “An Otoe and an Omaha Tale.” The Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 199–200. Date: 1893 Original Source: Oto National Origin: Native American

The Oto are a southern Siouan group who lived in historical times along what is now the Missouri-Nebraska border. They lived in earth lodge villages and farmed and engaged in seasonal bison hunts. The following tale is a variant of the Star Husband Type categorized as Type I: “The Wish to Marry a Star.” The type is one of the most popular Native North American folktales.

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n the evening, in summer, upon a hot night two young girls, chief’s daughters, lay on the ground outside their tents gazing at the sky. As the stars came out one of them said, “I wish I were away up there. Do you see where that dim star is? There is where I wish I might be.” And she fixed her eyes upon the twinkling star that seemed to be vanishing behind the clouds.

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The other girl said, “It is too dim. I wish I were up by that bright one, that large brilliant star,” and she pointed to where a steady light glowed red. Soon they were asleep and the brilliant lights in the blue above kept watch. In the night when they awoke each young girl found herself where she had wished to be. The one in the dim star was in the home of a brave young chief, and she became his bride and was happy. The beautiful star had appeared dim to her while she was yet upon the earth because it was so far, far away that she could not see its glorious light. The girl in the bright star found herself in a servant’s home, and was obliged to do all manner of work and to become the servant’s wife. This star had been nearer the earth, and so it had seemed to be the larger and brighter star. When this girl found that her friend had gone to a beautiful star and become the wife of a chief, with plenty of servants to wait upon her, and that she was never permitted to do any work, she cried and cried because the change in her own condition seemed more cruel, and she was even obliged to live with a servant. The girls were still friends and often met in the clouds and went out to gather wild turnips, but the chief’s wife could never dig, her friend was always obliged to serve her. Whenever they started out an old man would say to them: “When you dig a turnip, you must strike with the hoe once, then pull up the turnip. Never, by any means, strike twice.” After going to gather turnips many times and receiving always this same instruction the chief’s wife grew curious, and one day she said to her friend: “Why is it, they tell us to strike but once? Today when you dig that turnip I wish you to strike twice. Let us see why they allow us to strike but once.” The servant struck once with the hoe and took up the turnip, then, as commanded, she struck with her hoe again in the same place. Behold a hole! She leaned forward and looked down. She saw her home. She cried to her friend. “Look! I can see through the clouds. See! There is our home.” The chief’s wife looked also, and she saw the village and her home. The girls sat looking through the hole, and they longed to go home, and they sat weeping. An old man chanced to pass by, and he saw them and stopped and asked, “What is the matter? What are you crying about?” And they answered, “Because we can see our home. We are so far away, we wish to be there, but we can never get there.” The old man passed on. He went to the chief and he told him that the girls sat weeping because they could see their home, and they wanted to go back to the earth. The chief then called all his people together, and he sent them away to find all the lariats that they could.

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In the village, on the earth, every one had mourned for the chief’s daughters, who had so strangely disappeared, and could not be found. It was a long time since they were lost, but the people still thought of them. Today in the village a great many people had come to see the boys and young men play. They used a ring and a long stick, round at one end. One person would throw the ring in the air and at the same time another would try to send his arrow through it; the men would run swiftly and throw their sticks when they were near the ring, for the one who got the most arrows through while the ring was still in the air was the winner. All the people were excited over the game and urging on the young men, when one of them happened to look up toward the sky. “Why, look up,” he called out, “something is coming down. Look! They are very large. Look at them!” All who heard stopped and looked up, and others seeing them look, turned to see what it was. Many ran to the spot where these things were falling. Then the people found they were the lost girls. The good chief in the dim star had ordered all the lariats knotted together and then he had wound them around the bodies of the two girls and dropped them gently through the hole in the sky to the earth, keeping tight the end of the rope until the girls reached the ground. Joyfully the Indians ran before the girls to carry the news of their return to their sorrowful parents. One of the girls looked sad and pitiful, the other looked happy as though she had been in some beautiful place.

AIINI Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Skinner, Alanson. “European Folk-Tales Collected Among the Menominee Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 64–72. Date: 1913 Original Source: Menominee National Origin: Native American

The ancestral home of the Menominee was Wisconsin and upper Michigan, where they lived by hunting, fishing, and gathering wild plant

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foods. Their contact with French fur traders in the late 1600s led to the creation of ordinary folktales such as the following. Folklorist Alanson Skinner notes that the evil father-in-law, the visit to the gull island for eggs, the magic canoe, the escape, and the “awl elbow witches” are narrative motifs preserved in the tales of neighboring Native American cultures. Although the association of success in gambling with supernatural abilities and the pattern of fours that continue to the end of the story are common Native American motifs, Skinner contends that, after the death of the father-in-law, it seems plausible that European influences predominate.

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iini lived in the wilderness, and set out to find some Indians. These Indians knew he was coming, and tried their best to prevent it by their magic. Aiini learned of this; but he paid no attention, and set off with his bow and arrows. As he journeyed along, he shot some partridges and plucked out their tail and wing feathers, and carried the feathers with him. When he approached a house where he knew that he was not wanted, he got his feathers ready, and, when the dogs came out to bark at him, he threw away the feathers, which became partridges; and the dogs pursued them while he slipped off behind the lodge. The inhabitants of the house heard the noise, and sprang up, crying, “Maybe Aiini is coming.” But just then the birds flew up. “Oh! The dogs are after some partridges,” they cried. “Let us go and shoot them; they are sitting on the trees.” So Aiini escaped while they were hunting the birds, and continued on his journey. After a time he came upon two mice sitting at the door of their den; but Aiini knew that these were really two old women who had knives in their elbows, ready to kill any stranger who passed by. Aiini knew the old hags were on the watch, so he took his bow, and poked at the door of their lodge. There were little bells hanging on it, and they rang when he shook them. The old women thought it was Aiini himself going in, so they stabbed at the noise with their elbows, and struck each other. One of them cried out in a loud voice, “Oh, you have killed me!” And the other shouted the same words: so they both died from their wounds. Aiini then proceeded, and as he travelled he came to the shore of the ocean, which he followed. After a while he came to a wigwam and went in. He saw an old man lying there, and on the opposite side of the lodge a woman was sitting. Aiini took his place beside her. The woman asked him where he was going, and

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he replied that he had come from his home in the forest, and was traveling to see the world. Then Aiini asked if he might stay in the lodge for a while. “Why, I think it would not be safe for you,” she replied. “My father is a very bad fellow; he would soon kill you.” “Pshaw!” said Aiini. “I can take care of myself.” While they were talking, the old man rose, and sat up on the ground near the fire; in the meanwhile he looked around and saw Aiini. The woman then prepared supper, and all three ate together. Aiini decided to remain there in spite of the woman’s warning; and after a few days, when the old man found out that his unwelcome guest was lingering, he said to his daughter, “Ask Aiini if he will go with me to a certain island to gather sea-gulls’ eggs.” “Oh, yes! I’ll go with him,” responded Aiini to the woman’s question. So they started out together. “We’ll have to drag my canoe some distance,” said the old man. “It’s way up on the dry land.” “Oh, it won’t take long,” said Aiini, “to get it to the water.” So they went after the canoe, and brought it to the ocean. The old man told Aiini to sit in one end while he sat in the other, and they started. “Nitos majia (“my canoe go”)!” said the old fellow; and the canoe started off by itself. Whenever it slowed down, he repeated these words, and it was not long before they reached the island, where there were numerous sea-gulls. There was a fine sand-bar there, so the old man told Aiini to follow the shore while he took the opposite direction, and they would meet on the other side of the island: so off they set. But the old man hung back and watched Aiini; and, as soon as he was out of sight, the old fellow got into his canoe, and cried, “Nitos majia!” Just then Aiini became suspicious, and sauntered back in time to see the old man marooning him. He whooped as loudly as he could, and called, “What are you leaving me for?” But the old chap paid no attention, he only called to the sea-gulls, “You used to ask me to give you an Indian to eat.” So the gulls gathered around Aiini, and were about to devour him, when he addressed them, saying, “Why do you wish to eat me? I thought you granted your power to me? You promised to help me when I was in trouble.” So he talked to them until they recognized him; and they cried, “Oh! This is Aiini to whom we granted our power.” “Take me across this ocean!” cried Aiini. “How can we do it?” they asked. “You’re too big!” “I can make myself small,” vowed Aiini.

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Then one of the largest of the gulls made reply. “All right! If you can make yourself small, we will carry you.” So Aiini made himself small. And he got on the largest sea-gull and started to fly back, while several other gulls accompanied the large gull, in case it tired out. When they were halfway over, they could see the old man in his canoe below them. “Void your excrement upon him!” ordered Aiini. And the gulls did so, hitting him on his breast as he lay in his canoe. “So that’s the way they treat me after I have given them something to eat!” he cried, disgusted. The gulls carried Aiini safely to the shore, and he went back to the lodge. When he arrived, the woman asked him what had happened to the old man; and Aiini replied that he was on his way. When the old man returned and found Aiini there before him, he was ashamed. After a few days, he asked his daughter again if the lad would go out to the island with him; and she said to the young man, who was now her husband, “The old man wants to go and catch some young crows on another island. They’re big enough for us to eat. Will you go with him?” “Oh, n’hau (“yes, I’ll go”)!” cried Aiini. So they started out. They got into the enchanted canoe, and the old man cried, “Nitos majia (“my canoe go”)!” and off they went. At last they arrived at the island. “You go around the shore that way, my son-in-law,” said the old man, “and I’ll go in the opposite direction.” Aiini thought he would serve the old man in the same way that he had been treated: so he hung back, and, when the old man was gone, he ran to the canoe, and cried, “Nitos majia!” and off he went. The old man heard and rushed back, wailing, “Nitcimân! Pon, pon, pon! (“My canoe! Wait, wait, wait”)!” The canoe stopped dead. “Nitos majia!” cried Aiini, and started off again. So he managed to keep on going, a little at a time, until at last he got out of sight, despite the old man. Then Aiini called to the crows, “Here! Come and eat this old Indian that I’ve brought you!” At last Aiini got home, and dragged the canoe high on the shore. His wife asked him, “Where is my father?” “I guess he must have started before I did,” replied Aiini. When, however, the old man failed to return, Aiini said to his wife, “Let’s move away.” So they withdrew to a nook in the forest. In the course of time, they acquired cattle and a little farm. Ainii was a skilful card-player. One day he

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said to his wife, “I’m going out for a walk, just for pleasure. You stay at home and keep house.” “N’hau!” said she: so Aiini went away. As he walked along, he met a man. “Where are you going?” asked the stranger. “Oh, just taking a walk,” replied Aiini. They stood talking a while, and at last they fell to gambling. They made many bets, all of which were won by Aiini, until at last the stranger, having lost all his goods, bet his pouch. “What is your pocketbook good for?” asked Aiini. The other fellow shook it four times by way of answer, and it was full of money. “If I hit it five times, there would never be anything in it,” he explained. So Ainii accepted the bet. The stranger hit the purse five times, and lost it. Aiini won it, and they parted. Soon Aiini met another stranger. “Where are you going?” he inquired of Aiini. “Oh, I am travelling around the country, gambling,” answered the hero. So they sat down and gambled, and Aiini won everything the stranger had, except an object wrapped up in a tablecloth, and this he offered to bet. Aiini wanted to know what it was, and the man told him that it was a tablecloth. Aiini asked to see it, and the stranger undid it for him to look at. “Whatever you want to eat will always appear on this tablecloth,” he said. “Let’s eat, then,” suggested Aiini. “N’hau!” cried the stranger; and they desired food to appear on the cloth. It did so, and they feasted. When they had eaten, the stranger offered to bet it; and Aiini won it too. They parted, and Aiini carried the cloth with him. Whenever he was hungry, he took out his cloth, spread it, and had whatever he desired for dinner. As he traveled along, he met a man carrying a fiddle. He told the newcomer that he was travelling around, card-playing, and they sat down to gamble. The stranger lost all his money to Aiini, and finally offered to bet his fiddle. Aiini asked him what it was. “I’ll show you,” said the stranger, commencing to play. “If there are any people here, they’ll have to dance, and they can’t stop until I quit playing.” Aiini accepted the bet, and won the violin also; and then he set off on his travels again. At last he came to a great body of water. He walked along the shore, and as he trudged on, he saw a man playing on the surface of the water. After he had watched for some time, he appeared in full view. As soon as the man saw Aiini, he came ashore. “Where are you going?” “I’m just taking a walk for pleasure. What are you doing there?”

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“Oh, I was just having a little fun by myself.” “Oh! Can you play cards?” “Oh, yes! I can. Let’s play.” So they did. They played for money; Aiini won. “I’ll bet you my magic moccasins.” “What are they good for?” “You saw what they can do. The one who wears them can play right on the surface of the water.” Aiini won the moccasins too. Aiini set off again along the shore. As he traveled along, all at once he came to a lodge. He peeped in, and there sat an old lady. “Nima noko (“well, grandmother is this where you keep yourself?”).” “Eh, yes!” said the old lady. “I want to ask you a question. Is there anyone around here who can play cards?” “Yes; I don’t know anyone near by, but a long ways off.” She walked out and looked over the lake. “I’ll tell you where the good player is,” and she pointed over across the water. “It’s impossible for you to get over there and play him.” “Oh, I can get there, if I only know the right direction.” The old lady pointed out the place very accurately. Aiini put on his magic moccasins and started over. The old lady told him that the man lived in a little village. He finally arrived and went right to the centre of the village. Several men were standing loafing, and they saw him approaching over the water. “Oh! There comes someone who is somebody; guess we’d better notify our chief.” So one man ran to tell him all about Aiini. The chief came out and looked too. “Don’t say anything!” ordered the chief, and went back to his lodge. Aiini landed, and took off his shoes. He walked up to the bystanders, who greeted him, asking, “Who are you? What do you want?” “I’m just going around for pleasure.” They kept on inquiring, and at last he told them that he was searching for a good card-player, and said he had been directed there to find one. “Why, yes! There is one here.” They pointed out his very lodge. One of them went to fetch him. The gambler sent for Aiini, and Aiini went to him. “What do you want here?” “I want to find someone who can really play cards.” They commenced to play; and Aiini lost all his money, but did not bet his things. He stopped playing that time. Whenever this gambler won from anyone, he had him thrown into prison. Aiini was taken there at once. There were a lot of men and women

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already confined there. Aiini was never hungry, for he had his sacred tablecloth. He would invite all his fellow prisoners to eat with him. A couple of days later, he said to the others, “We are so lonesome in here! Let’s have some fun!” “What can we do?” “I’ll show you!” He took out his violin, and tuned it up. When he began to play, all the captives began to dance. Nobody could help it, the music was so lovely. Of course he would let them rest from time to time. Some people outside could hear the fiddling. They gathered in a crowd to watch the fun. The chief got various messengers to go in and try to stop Aiini, but when they got into the prison, each had to dance. At last he sent a couple of his daughters, and they commenced to dance too. Then he sent his wife to stop it. She went, and danced too. When the gambler chief heard this, he got angry and ran in. The minute he got through the door, he had to dance too. He shouted to Aiini to stop fiddling. “No, I won’t stop!” He was bound to make them all keep on dancing. “The only thing I will quit for, will be all the money you have.” The chief made no reply, but kept on dancing. Every little while he would tell Aiini to stop. “Not unless I get all your money,” was his reply. The daughters became so played out, they begged their father to have mercy upon them. At last the gambler became so exhausted, that he agreed to Aiini’s terms. So he stopped. The dancers were puffing like roosters that had been fighting. Aiini put up the fiddle and went for the money, which the gambler gave up to him. But Aiini gave a little back to them. “You needn’t starve entirely; keep this to live on,” he said. He put on his shoes and went back where he came from. When he got home, he found the same old lady that had directed him. “O grandma! I found that gambler,” he said. Then he went home to his wife, carrying all his spoils. He told her all about his good time. “I did not have much bad luck, except at first,” said he. Some time afterwards he set out on his travels again. This time he went in a different direction. He soon met a man who wore a red cap. “Where are you going?” said the stranger to Aiini. “Oh! I am going around trying to play cards.” “Why, so am I!” They then started in to play. Aiini won. “You’ve got all my money, now I’ll bet my life for one year; I’ll work for you during that time.”

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They played, and Aiini won. Aiini took him home and set him to work. At the end of a year he went to Aiini. He was angry because he had had to work a year for nothing. “We’ll play cards again,” he said. He bet himself again for one year, and was beaten again. He had to work again. At the end of the year they played again for the same stakes. This time Aiini lost, and he had to work as the slave of the other for a year: so he asked permission to tell his wife what to do during his absence. The man with the red cap went home, after telling Aiini to come next day and work. Aiini did so as soon as possible. The man with the red cap did not tell Aiini where to go when he told him to come, and Aiini did not know where to go. He went as far as he saw the man go. As he followed, he came to a great lake. Near the beach was a bark lodge. He went over and looked in. There sat an old woman. “Maa, noko, I have something to ask you. Do you know where the man with a red cap lives?” The old lady stepped outside, and, looking over the water, she pointed to a spot on the other side. “That’s where he lives,” said she. Aiini told the old dame how the man had worked for him two years, and that now he must work one in return, since he was beaten. “You can never get over there!” said the old lady. “I’ll tell you what we can do. I’ve got a little canoe. I’ll ferry you over to the island, then I’ll come back and you can stay there. To-morrow morning four girls, daughters of Red-Cap, will come there and swim, and you can see them.” They got into the canoe. “Nitos majia (“my canoe go”)!” said she; and off they went, and soon reached the island. “The four girls are coming to-morrow morning. You hide on the beach, cover yourself with sand. There are three of them who are dark, and one of them who is light. In this way they are like doves. Watch the white one, but be careful not to let them see you; if they do, they won’t land. Also watch closely where they put their clothes.” Aiini did as he was told, and, as soon as the girls were in swimming (they were soon way out on a shallow sand-bar), he ran out and stole the white girl’s clothes. When they were done, the white dove could not find her clothes. “Where are my clothes? I put them there!” she cried; but she could not find them, and so she had to stay naked. When the others had dressed, they flew away, leaving their unfortunate sister behind, weeping. When Aiini saw the girl was alone, he came out. She asked, “Did you take my clothes?”

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“No, I don’t know anything about them!” The girl cried so much, that Aiini said, “If I get your clothes, will you take me over to the man with the red cap?” “Oh, yes! That’s my father.” He gave her the clothes, and she dressed up and became a dove. “Make yourself as small as you can, so that I can carry you.” He did so, asking, “Am I small enough?” “Yes! Get on my back.” She flew home with him, and took him to a place just a little way from her father’s house. When she alighted, she advised Aiini, “My father will ask you to clean up the house. I will bring you your meals, and I’ll help you all I can, because you gave me back my clothes.” So he went to Red-Cap’s house to see him. The girls lived in a different house by themselves. Aiini reported; and his master said, “Well, you got here?” “Yes; but I hardly succeeded, as you didn’t show me the way.” “I’ve often heard that you were powerful, so I thought you would know what to do.” He showed Aiini a place to sweep, and told him what he desired him to do next day. He handed him a shovel. “There’s a barn near here with a lot of cattle. It has not been cleaned for fifteen years; but you are to clean it.” Red-Cap took Aiini over to the barn, and, when they got there, the manure was about four feet deep. Aiini took off his coat and got to work. By noon he had only a little bit done. White-Dove brought him his dinner. “How much have you accomplished?” He showed her. Aiini ate his dinner with the girl sitting beside him. All at once the girl asked him if she couldn’t louse him. She put his head on her knees and began to look for her game. He soon fell asleep, and slept for quite a while, and when she woke him up, he was astonished. He began to think about his work. They both went to the barn; but when they got there, it was perfectly clean. “Well, that’s as much as I can do for you,” she said. Aiini was grateful to the White-Dove. And she said to him, “That is your reward for finding my clothes; I’ll always help you. My father will set you to another task tomorrow. I am going to leave you now, and will not come home till evening.” That night they went to bed. The next day, Aiini was told to dig a well. RedCap showed him where to begin, and gave him a shovel. Aiini commenced to dig; but he did not have very much done at noon, when White-Dove brought him his dinner. After they had eaten, White-Dove said, “How much have you done?” “Oh, not much!” “Sit down and let me louse you.”

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The Midwest | How the Big Turtle Went on the Warpath

Aiini did so, and soon fell asleep. When he awoke, he remembered his work. “Go and look at it,” said the girl. The well was already dug. She told him to stay till evening, and then went home. He came in at dark, and told Red-Cap the well was done. Red-Cap was pleased, and they went to bed. The next day he was taken by Red-Cap, who gave him an axe, and he was led to a great farm of a hundred acres, and was told to clear it and fence it. It took him all the morning to chop down one tree and cut it up. The girl brought his dinner as usual, and after it he told her how much he had cleared. She loused him, and he soon went to sleep, and slept until she woke him and told him to attend to his work. When he looked around, the farm was cleared and a fence made. She told him to stay there till evening. In the evening, Aiini went home, and when he got there, the boss asked him how much he had done that day. “Oh, I’m through!” replied Aiini. They went and looked at the farm. Red-Cap was surprised, and then they retired. Next day, Red-Cap told Aiini to catch a horse for him, and he gave him a halter. Aiini could not catch him. He ran like a deer, and Aiini grew discouraged. At noon the girl came with his dinner. “How are you succeeding?” she asked. “I can never catch him!” he replied. She loused him to sleep, and when he woke, he went to catch the horse, but found him caught and tied, ready for him. The girl advised, “You are through now: otherwise, you would have had to work one year. It’s all on my account that your time has been shortened. My father will give you one more task to-morrow. He is going to take you to his trunk and open it. He’ll take out and offer you four knives. Be sure to choose the white-handled one, that means me. The other three are my sisters.” So he did. Red-Cap took him to the trunk, and offered him his choice of the four knives. He chose the white-handled one. The girl had promised Aiini to take him home, so she did, across the ocean. “I guess you can get home from here,” she said.

HOW THE BIG TURTLE WENT ON THE WARPATH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dorsey, J. Owen. “Abstracts of Omaha and Ponka Myths, II.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 206–8.

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Date: 1888 Original Source: Omaha National Origin: Native American

Similar stories of Big Turtle going to war were told by the Kickapoo, Winnebago, and Seneca, among others. In this Omaha trickster tale, Big Turtle rejects competent warriors in favor of apparently innocuous objects and animals that inflict minor (and perhaps accidental) damage on the enemy. In typical trickster fashion, Big Turtle exaggerates the exploits of his band of raiders.

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he Big Turtle was a friend to a village of Indians who would not make war on their foes. He determined to go to war on their behalf, so he prepared a feast, and sent his two messengers, the Red-breasted Turtle and the Gray Squirrel, to invite the guests. The Turtle boiled sweet corn and a buffalo paunch. The messengers cried thus: “O Corn-crusher, come and bring your bowl!” “O Comb, come and bring your bowl!” “O Awl, come and bring your bowl!” In like manner they called Pestle, Fire-brand, and Buffalo-bladder, each guest being called four times. When the men came the leader told Corn-crusher to boil the food for the next night; so the latter boiled turnips and a buffalo paunch. On the third night Awl boiled wild rice; on the fourth night Comb boiled the roots. The Big Turtle wore leggings with large flaps; he tied short garters around them; he wore grass around his head; he put white plumes on the top of his head; he took his gourd rattle and sang: “It is said that the Big Turtle is coming back from touching the foe! He is coming back from touching them.” He danced around the warriors as they marched. They met a young Buffalo, who said that he had heard of their expedition, so he had come to join them. The Big Turtle asked him what he could do. The Buffalo rolled himself back and forth, he thrust at the ground with his horns, he charged on an ash-tree, uprooted it, and sent it flying through the air. “Be gone,” said the Big Turtle, “I am disappointed in you. How can you compete with my brave warriors, Corn-crusher, Comb, Awl, and others?” So the Buffalo was rejected. When they reached a stream all crossed in safety but Fire-brand, who was extinguished. So the others went on without him.

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The Midwest | How the Big Turtle Went on the Warpath

A Puma then met them, next came a Black Bear, and each showed what he could do; but they were rejected by the leader, who said that they could not compare with his stout-hearted warriors. On reaching a dense undergrowth Buffalo-bladder was torn open, so he had to rest there till the return of his comrades. Soon after they came to a bad place in the road, obstructed by many fallen trees. Red-breasted Turtle could not climb over them, so he was obliged to stop there. Big Turtle sent out the Gray Squirrel as a scout. After he reported, the Big Turtle ordered Corn-crusher to go into the camp of the foe. Corn-crusher was found by a woman, who took him in her hand, and tried to crush some corn. She mashed her hand, forcing out the blood. Away she threw the Corn-crusher, who continued running till he reached the Big Turtle. “He whom you call Corn-crusher has returned, after killing one of the foe right in the lodge!” Comb was the next to venture. He was taken up by another woman, who tried to comb her hair; but Comb pulled out all the hair on one side of her head, and ran in triumph with the scalp. When it was Awl’s turn, he pierced the hand of the woman who held him. And Pestle wounded another on her knee. Gray Squirrel went above the tops of the lodges, and bit a boy. Then the Big Turtle tried his luck. He was caught by the people, who wondered how they could kill him. Some proposed to throw him into a fire, others into boiling water, and some wished to break his skull. At last they decided to throw him far out into the water. The Big Turtle sank, and they thought that he was dead. Subsequently, when he reappeared, they sent the Grass Snake and the Otter to seek him. They entered the water, passing just above the Big Turtle, he bit the Otter in a very tender part of the body, causing intense pain. He refused to let the Otter go till the return of the thunder in the spring of the year. When the Otter cried out to the people on the land they beat the lodge-skins, but the Big Turtle knew that it was not thunder. Then they felled trees, but he was not deceived. Next they fired guns, but he would not loosen his grip. At last it thundered, and the Otter was free, but he had been reduced to skin and bones. The people were angry, and ordered two Pelicans to drink the stream dry. They soon drank all the water except a very small quantity in which the Turtle sat. He called on the Gray Squirrel for aid. The latter came rushing on the Pelicans, tearing open their pouches, letting the water escape into its former place. Though the pouches were sewed up, and they drank the stream nearly dry again, the Gray Squirrel attacked them once more, and tore their pouches in so many places that they could not be healed. So the people abandoned the fight. Then the Turtle and his party started home. They fired the grass when they came in sight of the village of their Indian friends. They fired guns, tied the

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scalps to a pole, and ran round and round the village. An old man proclaimed the deeds of the warriors: “Corn-crusher says that he has killed one. Halloo! He says that he killed her right at the lodge! Halloo! Comb says that he killed one right at the lodge. Halloo! Awl says that he killed one right at the lodge. Halloo! Pestle says that he killed one right at the lodge. Halloo! Gray Squirrel says that he killed three in the midst of the ranks of the foe. Halloo! It is said that they took hold of the war-chief, Big Turtle, right among them, when they made a great uproar. Halloo! It is said that they failed to injure him. Halloo!” The Big Turtle walked very proudly, carrying his shield. The people entered his lodge, and he told of his exploits.

BOXER DAVEY DAY Tradition Bearer: Davey Day Source: Algren, Nelson. “Interview of Davey Day.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 11 November 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: Illinois National Origin: European American

Davey Day (1912–1990) is considered to be one of the last great Jewish fighters to come out of Chicago. He was a top ranked contender during the late 1930s. The boxers mentioned in Davey Day’s personal experience narrative were prominent professionals of the 1930s and 1940s. Henry Armstrong (1912–1988) was born Henry Jackson, Jr., son of an African American father and a Native American mother. Armstrong was the only male fighter to hold titles in three different weight divisions at the same time. Lou Ambers, born Luigi d’Ambrosio (1913–1995), held the world lightweight title from 1936 to 1940.

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The Midwest | Boxer Davey Day

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ou’re from that newspaper I guess? I always come down for a newspaper man. I guess there’s a story in this alright. Ain’t there?

“Yep, I’m him; Davey Day, that fast-stepping Jewboy on his way up, all fight and fancy footwork. And nothin’ wrong with the old heart, I guess you know, was you listenin’ Monday nights. “Well, that one’s over now, but Pian (Co-manager) is going to get him again for me at the ball park. I’ll beat him (Henry Armstrong) there, this is my lucky town. Dropped just one pro fight in my life here, that was in 1931, my fourth fight. I’ve licked everybody you want to name right around this town … Frankie Sagilio, Roger Bernard, Bobby Pacho and I guess maybe a hundred others. And you can bet that Armstrong will got on that list, too, ’cause little Davey is on his way up and he got that ol’ confidence. “I licked Lou Ambers too, but that was in N.Y. and he was the champ, so they tossed him the duke (decided in his favor). Wait’ll I’m the champ though. I’ll keep it right here in my old home town, and they’ll be tossin’ the duke at me like that too. I’ll be the houseman then. “Reason I lost to Armstrong was I couldn’t see him no more. I was real han’icapped. Wasn’t for not bein’ able to see him I could have gone twenty rounds ’cause I got determination, I got that old confidence. “I never got a cut eye in my life, but in that twelfth round I was prayin’ he’d slice that eye wide open on me then I’d a been able to see through it, I might of gone on to win even, but I couldn’t see at all, that’s the reason the ref called it. It swellen up tight as a drumstick on me.” “Yeh, his eye was cut up awright too—they looked at it in the eighth and I guess if that was a white guy they would of stopped it on a TKO and give it to me. But you know how it is with a black guy, they’d let him get killed in there ’cause that’s how it is. He didn’t have no lip left when he was through fightin’ Ambers, but he got the duke just the same. You think they’d would of let a white guy go on in that shape? Say, you know how many stitches they took in that lip Ambers give him? Fourteen, that’s how many. Armstrong told me himself, he swallowed so much blood he was sick for two days after. “I don’t know where they got the idea Armstrong hurt me though, He certainly disappointed me with the power he showed, I’ll say that much for myself. But you got to give that jig credit for one thing, he never quits swingin’. If you’d of brought a windmill into that ring and turned it so fast that it got me too dizzy to stand up any longer, and I toppled, that would have been nearly the same effect as Armstrong beating me. In that twelfth, for instance, I was covering my right eye, and waiting for him to let up for a second so I could open up again,

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but he kept swinging so often that it got me a little dazed, and that gave him the opening for the punch that knocked me down. “No, I wasn’t hurt. I even wanted to put up a argument for Fitzpatrick calling the fight, but Pian stopped me. I wanted to take nine counts and then got up after him again, I could easy have finished the round. He can’t hit. He wasn’t throwin’ nothin’ but hands. “How’d I feel? Never better in my life. I went in there in the pink. I live right, I guess you know. Armstrong found that out. He started getting sour toward the eighth. I could almost hear him saying: What’s wrong with this guy? Why doesn’t he go down like the others? But I stayed up just in spite. And he felt darn lucky when he seen me bend in in that twelfth, and even luckier when they stopped it. “But Armstrong’s awright. He never said a word to me either before or after the fight, but next day he come up to my hotel where I was stayin’ an’ said he was sorry he swelled up my eye. Well, I’m just sorry he didn’t rip that thing wide open. He’d of give me a chance to see that way. But he’s an intelligent man, he ain’t like lots of fighters. You know, reads books and things, real bright, you can tell that when you talk to him, he’s smart.” (Here the interviewer interposed that, in listening to the match over the radio, the announcer had said that going back to his own corner between the fifth and sixth rounds, Armstrong had been muttering to himself. The announcer said he had done this between rounds of several recent fights, and had questioned Armstrong about the habit. Armstrong had then replied that when he felt that he was certain to win, he began memorizing his radio announcement, at the close of the bout. “When I know I’m going to win I start thinking up something to say,” Armstrong had explained. The interviewer now asked Day whether Armstrong’s confidence was really so substantial as this might indicate. Day was offended at the implication that Armstrong was certain the fight was as good as over so early as the sixth round.) “Don’t let nobody kid you, fella. He talks to himself cause he’s gettin’ punchy. He done that first in the Ambers fight and he wasn’t figurin’ on no radio announcement then, if you seen that one. It was Ambers should a been talkin’ to himself if that was the case, an’ same thing with me. Say, when you see a fighter goin’ back to his corner talkin’ to hisself it means jest one thing, that his heels is beginning to click. You can take my word on that one, that burrhead’s heels is getting rounder every out. Why don’t he fight Angott then? “Say, you come around when I fight Montanez. That one’ll be in the ballpark too I hope. Then they’ll give me another crack at that Armstrong. If they do, Pian is going to make them let me have him here. O I’ll beat him awright

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The Midwest | Battle with the Comanches

the next out, less’n Angott gets him first. Angott got that ol’ confidence. I got it too, that old determination, that’s why I get along. “Any time you want a story for your newspaper you just drop in here an’ tell the ol’ man you want it an’ I’ll come down. I don’t live in this neighborhood o’course, I live in a hotel up on the northside. But I’ll come over awright. Every little bit helps, you know. Say, a dame wrote me a fan letter. I looked like George Raft she said. He use to be a pug (boxer, from “pugilist”) too, I guess somebody must of told her I was punchy awready, I would believe anything. Say, I don’t look like no George Raft. He got a interest in Angott though.”

BATTLE WITH THE COMANCHES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Jones, William. “Notes on the Fox Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 24 (1911): 233–34. Date: 1911 Original Source: Fox (Mesquakie) National Origin: Native American

After the Mesquakie and the Sauk were pushed west out of their original territory, as described in “Wabasaiy” (p. 162), they were compelled to go to war with the nomadic cultures who already inhabited the Midwestern plains. This legend of a battle with the Comanche suggests that, even in warfare, brave deeds of the enemy earned the respect of the Fox invaders.

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nce a man fasted. In the vision he had he was told that his enemy was to be found at one or the other of two hills. The hills were far out on the plains of what is now Kansas. He set out for the place to find his enemy. The enemy were the Comanches. The scouts on ahead reconnoitred the first hill which the adopted in his fast had seen. No enemy was found. The scouts reported no enemy, and pushed on to the next. Before arriving at the place, they came upon an old Comanche man picking the lice from his hair. Beyond him was a big camp of the Comanches.

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The scouts did a most unusual act. They shook hands with the old man, they themselves extending first the greetings. This was contrary to all custom, for their mission was especially that of vengeance and death; and so, instead of showing peace and friendship to the old man, they ought to have slain him then and there. And then they should have reported the news of the camp to the main body that was yet coming. The whole force then would surprise the camp by a sudden attack. But instead of doing what they should have, the scouts let the old man go to his village, while they retired in the direction of their main war-party. In a little while the scouts were fleeing for their lives with the whole force of the Comanche warriors after them. The Comanches were gaining ground on them; and at the river the scouts saw on the opposite shore from them their warparty just coming down to the water to cross. The scouts pushed on to meet them, and hardly were they in the water when over the high bank into the water plunged the Comanche horsemen. The Sauk and Fox war-party came on to meet them, and the fight was fought in the water in the middle of the stream. The Comanches were beaten back, and many scalps were taken there in the river. The dead Comanches were floated down stream after the scalps were taken from them. In the retreat the Comanches left one of their men to cover the rear. He was a short man, with only a bow and a few arrows. He alone held back the body of the Sauks and Foxes till his friends had got far away. As the men rushed on him, he would feign as if to shoot, and thereupon the Sauks would fall back; the same thing reoccurring till at last the men rushed upon him, and trampled him under with their ponies. They had to ride over him, because they seemed unable to hit him by shooting at him, and he seemed able also to dodge their bullets! The Sauks cut him open to take out his heart; but, instead of the heart that is usual for man to have, there was found in this man only a small piece of gristle. The possession of the small heart was what made him the brave man that he was!

CAB DRIVER CON MAN Tradition Bearer: T. S. Source: Aaron, Abe. “Interview of Cab Drivers.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939

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The Midwest | Cab Driver Con Man

Original Source: Illinois National Origin: Irish American

The following anecdote gives an insider’s view of an occupational confidence game.

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his is a guy who’s hungry, too hungry fer ’is own good; ’e won’t work only nights, b’cause nights is where the money is; nights is when ya play the drunks, ’n’ ’e’s the kind o’ guy who’d roll ’is own mother fer a jit (nickel). This guy, ’e picks up a drunk. ’E takes ’im to wherever the hell ’e’s goin’ an’ the freight’s maybe seventy cents. The fare forks a sawbuck an’ the cabbie, ’e gives ’im thirty cents change. The drunk, ’e ain’t so soused as not to know somethin’, ’e says “Didn’t I give you a ten dollar bill?” “Nope,” the guy says, “ya give me an ace,” an’ [he] flashes a buck so’s the drunk c’n see for ’imself. So the drunk, ’e says, “Oh, all right,” an’ that’s all o’ that. The trick’s to hide the dough soon’s ya get it, an’ ta keep an ace in yer hip pocket all the time, so’s ya c’n flash ’t easy ’f ya want. An’ not ta try it on no one but drunks. This same guy, ’e got a fare once what’s never rode in a cab before. This fare, ’e had two week’s pay on ’im, an’ ’e wanted ta make all the saloons in town in one night. Ya can’t help gettin’ a laugh outta this one. This guy, Davey, ’e drives ’im from one tavern to another. The fare gets pretty slap happy after while. Then, when ’e’s doped up enough, Davey, ’e says to ’im, “Hey, the bartender, ’e’s got ’is eye on you, you better gimme that dough y’re flashin’ t’ take care of for ya.” An’ ’e gives Davey the dough. Not only that, there’s four-eighty change from a fin (five dollar bill) layin’ on the bar what b’longs t’ the fare. The bartender, ’e’s got ’is eye peeled all right, an’ ’e’s wise t’ what’s goin’ on. ‘E says t’ Davey: “Aw right, slub, come across.” Davey, ’e never bats an eye, ’e just says, “That’s your out,” and ’e means the four-eighty what’s layin’ on the bar from the fin. That don’t satisfy the bartender an’ ’e walks over t’ the window t’ look out an’ see Davey’s cab. But Davey, ’e’s parked so’s the bartender can’t read ’is number, an’ Davey cracks, kiddin’ ’im, “What’s the matter?—can’t ya get my number?—can’t ya get my number?”

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The drunk, ’e’s fallen asleep, an’ Davey lugs ’im off t’ the bus an’ drives off. After a while, ’e wakes the guy up. ’E says, “Come on, come on, it’s time t’ go home,” an’ ’e takes the guy t’ his house. ’E leaves ’im there, sittin’ on the porch lookin’ after ’im; ’e leaves, and, ’e’s got the sixty-five dollars in ’is pocket.

THE ORPHAN AND THE TURKEYS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fletcher, Alice C. “Glimpses of Child-Life Among the Omaha Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 121–22. Date: 1888 Original Source: Omaha National Origin: Native American

The Orphan’s trick of capturing turkeys by enticing them to dance with their eyes closed appears in trickster tales throughout Native North America. The greed demonstrated by feasting while his grandmother goes hungry is equally typical of trickster behavior. The following is a favorite among the stories told to children by their mothers or one of the older members of the family. The writer has heard it told many times, with much dramatic action. The Orphan, like Rabbit, is one of the many personae of the trickster in Native North American myths.

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a-han-the-she-gae (the orphan) lived with his grandmother. They were both very poor. One day he went out to dig roots. A flock of turkeys were also out walking. He was about to pass them, when one called out, “There goes Wa-han-the-she-gae; let us call to him and ask him to sing for us, that we may dance.” Whereupon one of the turkeys hailed Wa-hanthe-she-gae, and he advanced toward them. Then the spokesman turkey said, “We have no one to sing for us, and we want to dance.”

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The Midwest | The Orphan and the Turkeys

Wa-han-the-she-gae told the turkeys to stand two by two in a circle. He sat down at one side, placing near him the bag he had brought to carry the roots in. The turkeys made themselves ready; they crooked their necks, made their wattles red, drooped their wings, spread their feathers and tails, and moved their feet uneasily, in anticipation of the dance. Then said Wa-han-the-she-gae, “You must all shut your eyes as you dance; for whichever one of you looks will always have red eyes!” So he began to sing, and the turkeys to dance. “He who looks will have red eyes; will have red eyes. Spread your tails; spread your tails!” Soon he called out, “You who are larger dance outside; you who are larger dance outside!” The turkeys obeyed the order. As a fine, plump turkey passed him in the dance, he would seize it and thrust it in the bag, singing all the while, to keep the dance going. By and by one of the turkeys peeped a little bit, and saw Wa-han-the-she-gae in the act of bagging a turkey! He shouted, “Wa-hoi! He has already nearly exterminated us!” Then all the turkeys opened their eyes and saw it was true, but few were left! So they spread their wings and flew away over the trees, but their eyes became red as they flew. Wa-han-the-she-gae called out, as they rose in the air, “You may go, but hereafter you shall be called Zee-zee-ka (the name for turkey)!” Then Wa-han-the-she-gae rose, shouldered his bag, and went home. Entering his tent, he tied the bag securely, laid it away, and called for his grandmother. Soon she came, and he said, “Grandmother, you must not open this bag. I am going away for a little while, and you must let the bag alone.” He went out. While he was gone the grandmother became curious about the bag. She looked at it, then felt of it; it was full of lumps that kept moving. “This is very queer,” she said, feeling it all over. “I will just peep in; there will be no harm in that.” So she untied the string, and tried to hold it as she opened it a very, very little. All of a sudden the bag shook in her hands; there was a whirr, a dash of feathers over her face, and the tent was full of turkeys, flying through the opening and beating about, trying to get out. The old woman was frightened out of her wits. When she came to her senses, she slipped off her smock, and began running after the sole remaining gobbler, whipping him as she ran. At last she caught him, and put him back in the bag. Just then Wa-han-the-she-gae returned, and, seeing what had happened, began to scold, telling his grandmother she “had no ears,” for he had told her not to open the bag. More words passed between them, and then he bade her

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go outdoors and sit with her head covered, for he was going to make a feast for some Pawnees. She went out, and did as she was bidden. Wa-han-the-she-gae cooked the turkey, and dished it in a wooden bowl. When this was done, he went quietly out of the tent, made a great rattling of buffalo-robes, and, lifting the tent-door flap and letting it drop with a loud noise, would call out, “Hail! Rabbit-chief!” He repeated these actions and greetings several times. And the old grandmother, sitting outside, said under her covers, “Oh, my grandson! How well he is known by the great men of the Pawnees!” Then Wa-han-the-she-gae began to eat the turkey, keeping up the while a lively talk in Pawnee all by him-self. He ate and ate, until nothing was left but the bones!

FOX AND WOLF Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Skinner, Alanson. “European Folk-Tales Collected Among the Menominee Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 72–76. Date: 1913 Original Source: Menominee National Origin: Native American

The pairing of a clever trickster figure with a slow-witted dupe appears in the plots of the tale repertoires of various regions and ethnic groups throughout the United States. For example, compare this tale to “How Brer Rabbit Practice Medicine” (Vol. II, p. 66). While “Fox and Wolf” retains the Native American four-part structure, the motifs are clear borrowings from European or African American neighbors in the region.

V

ery long ago there were two men living together, and making maplesugar. They made one mokok (“bark box”) of sugar, and then they cached it away, burying it, and said to each other, “We will let it remain here until we are very hungry.”

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The younger man was a Fox, and he was a good hunter. Every time he went out, he brought home chickens or small wild game. The other man was a greedy Wolf, and he never killed anything, or brought anything home: so Fox thought he would play a trick on his chum for being lazy. “You ought to go over to that house,” said Fox to Wolf. “Maybe they will give you something to eat. When I went over there, they gave me a chicken.” So Wolf went over as he was told. When he got to the house, he did not hide himself, but went in open sight. The owner of the house saw the Wolf coming up, so he set his dogs on him to drive him away; and Wolf escaped only by running into the river. “So it is this one that takes off with our chickens!” said the man. When Wolf arrived at his home, he told his younger brother, Fox, “Why, I hardly escaped from that man!” “Why!” said Fox to him. “They did not recognize you; that’s why.” But Wolf made no answer. While they were in the house together, Fox went outside, and cried, “He!” to deceive Wolf. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Wolf. “Oh! They have come after me to give a name to a child.” “Then you’d better go over. Maybe they will give you something to eat.” Instead of going, however, Fox went to their cache of maple-sugar, and ate some of it. When he returned, Wolf asked him, “What did you name the baby?” “Mokimon,” replied Fox; and this word means to “reveal” or “dig out” something you have hidden. At another time, while they were sitting together, Fox said, “He!” and “Oh, yes!” “What’s that?” inquired Wolf. “Oh! I am called to give a name to a newborn baby.” “Well, then, go. Maybe they will give you something to eat.” So Fox went and returned. “What’s the name of the child?” asked Wolf. This time, Fox answered, “Wapiton;” and this word means “to commence to eat.” At another time, Fox cried out, “He!” and “All right!” as though some one had called to him, “I’ll come.” “What’s that?” asked Wolf. “They want me to go over and name their child.” “Well, then, go,” says Wolf. “You always get something to eat every time they want you.”

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So Fox went, and soon returned. Wolf asked him again, “What name did you give it?” “Hapata kiton,” answered Fox; that is to say, “half eaten.” Then another time Fox cried “He!” as if in answer to some one speaking to him, and then, as though some one called from the distance, “Hail!” Wolf, as he did not quite hear, asked Fox what the matter was. “Oh, nothing!” replied Fox, “only they want me to come over and name their child.” “Well, then, you’d better go. Maybe you’ll get a chance to eat; maybe you’ll fetch me something too.” So Fox started out, and soon returned home. “Well, what name did you give this time?” asked Wolf. “Noskwaton,” said Fox; and this means “all licked up.” Then Wolf caught on. “Maybe you are eating our stored maple-sugar!” he cried. But Fox sat still and laughed at him. Then Wolf went over and looked at their cache. Sure enough, he found the empty box with its contents all gone, and pretty well licked up. Meantime Fox skipped out, and soon found a large tree by the river, leaning out over the water. He climbed into its branches and hid there. Presently the angry Wolf returned home, and, not finding Fox, tracked him to the tree. Wolf climbed part way to Fox without seeing him, as he was on the branches. Then Wolf was afraid, and while he was hesitating, he happened to look at the water, and there he saw the reflection of Fox laughing at him on the surface. The Wolf, in a fury, plunged into the bottom of the stream, but of course failed to catch Fox. He tried four times, and after the fourth attempt he was tired, and quit jumping in for a while. While he was resting, he looked up and saw Fox laughing at him. Then Wolf said to Fox, “Let’s go home and make up;” for he thought in his heart that anyway Fox was feeding him all the time. By and by it became winter. Fox frequently went out, and returned with an abundance of fish. “How do you manage to get so many?” asked Wolf. “You’d better go out and try for yourself,” said Fox. “The way I do, when I am fishing, is to cut a hole in the ice. I put my tail in, instead of a line, and I remain there until I feel bites. I move ahead a little to let the fish string on my tail; but I stay a long time, until I get a great many fish on my tail. When it feels pretty heavy, I jerk it out, and catch all I want.” Fox was in hopes that he could get Wolf frozen to death in the ice, and so avoid the necessity of feeding him any longer. So he took Wolf out, and cut five

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holes in the ice, one for his tail, and one for each paw, telling him he could catch more fish that way. Wolf stayed there to fish all night. Every once in a while he would move his feet or tail a little, and they felt so heavy, he was sure he was getting a tremendous load; and he staid a little longer. In the meantime he was freezing fast in the ice. When he found out the predicament he was in, he jerked backwards and forwards again and again, until all the hair wore off his tail, and there he was. He thought he had let too many fish on his tail and feet to haul them out, and he worked hard to free himself. At last he wore his tail out at the surface of the ice, and pulled off his claws and the bottoms of his feet. Fox told him he had caught too many fish, and that they had bitten his tail and feet; and Wolf believed it. Another time, Fox found a wasp’s nest in a tree: so he went home and told Wolf that there was honey in it, and persuaded him to try and jump up and get it, on the plea that Wolf could jump higher than he could. As soon as Wolf set out to try, Fox ran away, and Wolf was nearly stung to death. Fox fled over a wagon-road to conceal his tracks, and as he travelled, he met a negro with a team, hauling a load of bread. Fox, cunning as he was, lay down on the side of the road and pretended that he was dead. The negro saw him lying there, and picked him up and put him in his wagon behind his load. Fox very presently came to, and, waiting for his chance, he would throw off a loaf of bread every now and then, till he had gotten rid of a good many. Then he jumped off, and carried the loaves to a secret place, where he built him a shelter, and prepared to live for a time. In the meantime, Wolf came along, half starved, and crippled from his meddling with a live wasp’s nest and from his fishing experience. Fox fed him on his arrival, and said, “You ought to do the way I did. It’s easy to get bread. I got mine by playing dead on the road. To-morrow the negro will pass by with another load; and you can watch for him and do as I did, and steal his bread.” Next morning, Wolf started out to watch the road, and pretty soon he saw the negro coming with a big load of bread: so he lay down beside the road, where the man could see him, and played dead. The man did see him, sure enough; and he stopped his team, and got off and got a big stick, and knocked Wolf over the head, and killed him dead for sure. “I will not get fooled this time!” he said, “for yesterday I lost too many loaves of bread for putting a dead Fox in my wagon without examining him.” So he did take the Wolf home dead. That ended him, and since then Fox has eaten alone.

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MANABOZHO GETS SCARED AND TAKES A JOURNEY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Radin, Paul, and A. B. Reagan. “Ojibwa Myths and Tales: The Manabozho Cycle.” Journal of American Folklore 41 (1928): 96–101. Date: 1911–1914 Original Source: Ojibwa National Origin: Native American

The motif of apparent aimless wandering that permeates this tale is typical of the trickster cycle focused on the Algonquin Manabozho. This characteristic rootlessness may symbolize his constantly shifting preoccupations, personality traits, and physical shape. He uses the ploy of calling a dance as did “The Orphan and the Turkeys” (p. 196). Manabozho’s impulses—and the parts of his body—frequently act at cross purposes in this narrative. Like a culture hero, he alters physical features of the environment; however, like so many of his other accomplishments, the creation of moss and red willow are far more accidental than intentional.

M

anabozho was out walking around one day. He was just beginning a journey through the lake country. As he was walking along he came to a covey of young partridges. As he approached them, they made a sort of fluttering noise. This called his attention to them. He stopped and looked at them a moment, then casually asked them who they were. “Oh, we are Scare-Crows,” spoke up all at once. “Our names are ScareCrow,” they again blurted out, as they bristled themselves up to make themselves appear as big and as formidable as possible. “Oh, you’re Scare-Crows,” rejoined Manabozho with a laugh. “You couldn’t scare anything.” Saying this he threw mud on them and went on. After Manabozho had been gone a considerable time, the mother partridge returned and found her younglings in a deplorable plight. “Who did this?” she asked as she flew into a passion.

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The Midwest | Manabozho Gets Scared and Takes a Journey

“Manabozho,” answered the entire brood in one breath. “Where is Manabozho?” inquired the mother as she began to shake out her wings for a rapid flight. “He went that way, toward the lake!” exclaimed all the little ones. “It’s done,” shrieked the mother bird as she darted forth in the direction indicated, with the rapidity of a strongly driven arrow. At this very moment, Manabozho was coming to the brink of the lake ahead of him. On nearing it, he found it closed in by high, perpendicular walls, with the water in the immediate vicinity of the shore. Manabozho had reached the edge of the precipitous wall and was there observing and enjoying the scenery, as he stood on one foot and swung the other foot backwards and forwards and around in front of the other, at the same time saying within himself that he wished there were a pretty girl out there on the water; he would go to her. Just at this moment the mother partridge, filled with rage, slipped up behind him and made a quick, fluttering boisterous hideous sound. So sudden was it, and such an unusual sound, that it startled Manabozho as he was standing on one foot, and he lost his balance and plunged into the depths below him. Down, down, he went into the water and then down, down in it till he began to think there would never be any turning in his course. But at last the descent ceased, he rose again to the surface, and finally swam to a place where he could find a footing, rest and catch his breath. While he was resting, he scanned the rocky wall enclosing the lake before him to see what beast or being had made him lose his balance and take the terrible plunge. And there he spied the enraged partridge still fluttering and charging backward and forward on the rocks near the edge of the cliff. He stood and looked steadily at it a moment; then remarked to himself in a half audible tone, “My, those birds can scare people!” After Manabozho had rested sufficiently, he swam across the lake and continued on his journey. Late the next day, he came to another lake. There he saw many kinds of water fowls swimming about on its surface. Manabozho was hungry, but he had no hunting implements at hand. He was not to be cheated out of a good meal, however. What he could not accomplish by any other means, he could accomplish by craft. So he filled his carrying sack with grass and went down to the beach and leisurely walked about on the sandy shore with it. After a while, he threw the sack down and went off and left it lying in full view of the lake people, as he termed the water fowls. These people became curious, as he expected. Finally, they asked Manabozho what he had in the sack. “Oh,” replied this god, as he straightened himself tip to his full height, “That sack is full of songs.

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I have brought them along with me for the very purpose of teaching them to you. We will have a dance, and a good time.” “Indeed, indeed, that will be nice,” spoke up all the Lake people at once. “We will dance; we will learn your songs.” Soon Manabozho was very busy. He went a little way from the lake and cleared away the brush and leveled a considerable plot of ground. Then within this area he hurriedly built an improvised dance hall in the “wickiup” style of poles, bows, branches, and leaves, covering the whole over with grape vines to make it look more inviting. Then he gave out a special invitation to all to attend the great dance. Then he went into the dance hall and, seating himself in the rear of the huge room, he began to sing, and pipe, and beat a rude drum. The water fowls began to gather for the “big time.” Soon they filled the edifice. Now for the dance. Manabozho played and all danced. Set after set danced. Manabozho was having everything his own way. At the beginning of a set, after a great many sets had been danced, he said, “Now dance a hop on your left foot.” So all danced as the “caller” ordered. And all went well. The next set he called, “Now dance a hop dance on your right foot.” This all did. The next set he called, “All dance with one eye shut.” This they did also; it was a funny performance. All enjoyed it. Manabozho enjoyed it too. Things were working out better than he had wished. The next set took the floor. “Dance with both eyes shut,” called Manabozho. This they did also. This was the trickster’s chance. He sang, beat the drum and piped and called off, and at the same time busied himself. It was his desired opportunity, and he did not fail to use it. As he kept up the music and the calling, he went down the line of dancing fowls and seized them one by one and wrung their necks. The scheme was working well. The birds all had their eyes shut and did not know that they were dancing to their doom. All was going well for Manabozho and would have continued to do so, if it had not been for the bird that is commonly known among hunters as Hell Diver. This bird was near the door of the great hall. And though he had his eyes shut, he suspected something. It appeared to him that the singing did not come from the same place it had when he had his eyes open, that is, the singer was moving about from place to place in the hall; at least he surmised so. So he opened one of his eyes a little and peered out into the poorly lighted space. There he could see Manabozho wringing first one bird’s neck and then another, and then another. Consequently he was not slow to get out of the hall to save his own neck. As he flew out the door he shrieked a warning to his feathered neighbours, “Manabozho is killing you; Manabozho is killing you by guile! He is wringing your necks! Flee the place!”

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The Midwest | Manabozho Gets Scared and Takes a Journey

Manabozho, of course, knew that the game was up. So he went out after the diver and approached him just as he was about to plunge into the water. Manabozho saw that he could never catch him. So he kicked him with effect from the rear and sent him far over the waters to nearly the other side of the lake. There he plunged downward to the bottom of the lake, where he stayed as long as Manabozho remained in those parts. The diver having given the warning and Manabozho having left the hall open, the other birds that were dancing and had escaped having their necks twisted, flew out of the building before Manabozho could return. Returning, then, he picked up the dead birds and repaired to a protected place around a point of land where he prepared to cook his catch and to feast, sleep, and enjoy himself. As soon as he was safely located, he set about to gather wood, and in a little while he had a very large fire burning. As soon as this had died down, he dug several pits in the sand, as many pits as he had dead birds. Then into each pit he put a quantity of live coals from his fire, and a fowl with its back down and feet up. On these he placed more hot coals and the whole he covered with loose sand to keep the heat in while the cooking was going on, the feet of the birds being left to stick up above the sand to mark the exact place where each bird was cooking. This done, Manabozho set about to have a much needed rest, while the birds were being cooked. But there were enemies in the country, people who wished to steal Manabozho’s dinner. Manabozho was sleepy; but under the circumstances he thought it best for only one part of him to sleep at a time. You know Manabozho had eyes and a face both before and behind. He ordered his rearface (buttocks) to watch the cooking feast while his ordinary face slept, and he so reclined that the rear part of his body was in a watching position, and soon, he was fast asleep. Well, what Manabozho had surmised was true. There were enemies lurking about. They saw the smoke of Manabozho’s fire and they reasoned that he must have something cooking. In fact, they could smell the cooking fowl. They laid plans accordingly. They set a man on the lookout to see what opportunity might come to them. They knew Manabozho was tired and must, of necessity, soon fall asleep as soon as night should come on. Soon the man on watch reported that Manabozho was actually asleep. So the whole band set out on the marauding trip. They took their canoes and were in the act of rounding the point of land that shut in Manabozho’s camping place, when a thing happened that they had not been expecting. They had not thought that they were dealing with an extraordinary person. As they were in the very act of rounding the point, Manabozho’s rear face saw them and waked Manabozho.

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So Manabozho got up drowsily and peered about him and in the direction his other self had indicated but saw nothing; he had been so slow getting to his feet that the enemy had slunk back of the point and, consequently, were out of sight. As he did not see anything, Manabozho was mad at his other self and spoke very unbecomingly to it. Then he lay down and was soon asleep again, reclining in the same position as before. As soon as he was asleep again, the thieving band tried again to get to Manabozho’s camp; but again his other self warned him of their approach. Again Manabozho was too slow getting up to see them, as they again slipped back of the point at the first signs of life about the place. So Manabozho lay down to sleep again, saying as he did so: “Don’t you wake me up for nothing again.” As soon as he was fast asleep, the robbers came again. This time Manabozho’s other self being angry on account of his cruel treatment, would not tell the real Manabozho of their approach, but let them come on unmolested. So they came. They took up all the cooked fowl, broke off their feet, threw their bodies into baskets, and took them to their canoes. But the feet they stuck back into the sand where the fowl had been buried to cook. Then they took their departure, well laden with plunder. And in all this time, Manabozho’s other self did not warn him of what was going on. It was angry. It had been mistreated, and now it would get even. So Manabozho slept on, on into the next day. Then he got up drowsily, rubbed his eyes and went to the lake and washed his face and body. He leisurely strolled back to the camp and prepared to partake of the feast, for why shouldn’t he have a feast; he had killed the fowl and cooked them and now he would eat in this cozy place to his satisfaction. He surveyed the place a moment, then seated himself near where he had buried the largest and plumpest bird. He took hold of its feet to lift it out from beneath the shallow bit of sand that had covered it to keep the heat in. But the feet, to his surprise, came up quickly and without any bird attached. “Well,” remarked Manabozho, “it must have cooked more than I had expected and burned the feet off. I’ll try another.” So he did and in this case also, just the feet came out of the sand. And so on, he lifted all the feet and got no cooked fowl at all. Again, he paused and remarked, “Who would have thought I had such a hot oven for my fowl. The feet are burned off every one of them. I will have to dig them up.” So he got a stick and went about examining in the ashes and sand for the bodies of the birds he had placed there to cook. No bird did he find. Then it began to dawn upon him that someone had stolen the cooked fowl. And he was enraged. He abused his other self very much for not obeying orders,

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The Midwest | Turtle Trying to Get Credit

and for not having warned him of the coming of the thieves as he had told it to do. Then to punish it, he went and built a huge fire and stood over this blazing furnace-like place so as to burn and roast his rear face. This he did to his satisfaction, till it was completely burned to a blister. Then he set out further on his journey. When he was journeying, he found it a great effort, for he was very sore from the burning, but he trudged on. Finally, he came to a steep place down which he had to descend over a very sloping, flat, slightly roughened rock. He started to climb down over this when his feet slipped from under him and he slid down over this rock-face on his rear side, in so doing he scraped the great scab from his back on the little projections of the large rock over which he slid. Reaching the bottom of the declivity, he was filled with pain and bleeding. On turning about and seeing the pieces of his flesh sticking to the rock, he exclaimed, “You are my flesh. Henceforth you shall be moss and you shall grow on the rocks the way you now stick there.” So he went on. He was bleeding profusely. As he journeyed, he had to step over many of the bushes of the region, as he was very tall. His streaming blood stained the bushes red. On seeing these colored red by his blood, he pronounced a curse upon them that from that time forth the bushes on which his blood had fallen should be red and should always be dwarfs, and should be designated always by the name of “red willows.” So Manabozho journeyed on.

TURTLE TRYING TO GET CREDIT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Radin, Paul. “Literary Aspects of Winebago Mythology.” Journal of American Folklore 39 (1926): 46–52. Date: 1926 Original Source: Winnebago National Origin: Native American

Turtle, in this Winnebago narrative, is not a trickster per se; however, he does have many of his excesses. He indulges his appetites, engages in

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quarrels, drinks, and gambles. The French traders who, in their desire to monopolize the Great Lakes fur trade, were the source of much of the conflict that arose in the area from the late seventeenth century figure prominently in the following narrative. Turtle ultimately gets his revenge and beats the French traders at their own game.

T

here was a village in which a chief lived. Turtle lived there too. The village was situated near a large river.

One day they said to each other, “Look, the traders are coming.” They were the Frenchmen. Finally the traders landed and settled in houses along the edge of the water down the stream. A large number of Indians immediately surrounded these houses. They were dressed in their best, with white and black wampums around their necks. Many of the women also wore earrings. The men were painted in various colors. Everyone went there except Turtle. One day he said, “Younger brothers, the Indians are getting credit and we also ought to be able to get some. However, I thought it would be better to wait till all the others are gone. They need clothing, and we do not need such things. If the others are able to get credit, I shall surely be able to do the same because all the traders are my friends.” Thus he spoke to his younger brothers. Beside Turtle there were present the Soft-Shelled Turtle, Keka, and the Little Red Turtle. All these latter were unmarried. The Turtle himself, however, had a wife. He lived in a long lodge with two fireplaces. When he was ready to go he said, “Now then it is about time for us to go and get credit, for even these womanly fellows are getting it. Now I am going to talk to my friends.” When they got to the first trader, Turtle said, “This is my intimate friend, but let us go a little farther.” When he came to another trader, he said the same thing, and thus they went from trader to trader until they came to the last man. There Turtle stopped and said, “Here we shall enter, for this man is a friend of mine.” As soon as they had entered the trader came up to him and shook hands with him. “Second-Born (Soft-Shell Turtle), you try to get credit first.” Then he asked the trader (for credit), but he was unsuccessful and so were the others. “Turtle cannot do it,” said the trader, “I was forbidden to do it when I started out. They told me that you are not to be trusted because you never repay what you borrow. They told me that you are lazy, that you don’t even try to go out hunting and that you gamble and lie with women and go on the warpath.

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Because you always do these things, I am forbidden to give you any credit. If you were to cheat me it would go hard with me because this is all the money I have. I cannot give you any credit. The other people have lots of money and perhaps they might help you out.” Then they went away and came to the trader nearest to this one. Turtle had said that this one never refused him, but when the Second-Born went up to him and asked him for credit he refused just as the other one had done. All four turtles pleaded with him a long time but he absolutely refused. “Turtle,” said this trader, “we are not going to buy any scalps.” So again they failed. In like manner Turtle went to all the traders but they all refused. “Younger brothers, you may all go home to your sisters-in-law. I will return later as I want to finish some interpreting for which I was engaged, and, besides, I want to have a good long talk with the traders.” So they all went home and he remained behind. There he stayed four days and nights without anything to eat. There were some young men drinking, but they always avoided him because they said that he would arrest them. All that was left for Turtle to do was to sleep at night near the camp fires of the traders. Turtle went around, hungry, dusty, his lips parched. The trader to whom he had gone first, seeing him in this plight took pity on him and called him to his store and said, “Turtle, come here.” Then he gave him some crackers, a can of fish and a piece of cheese. “Turtle, when I looked at you this morning I took pity on you and I am going to give you a little credit and if you don’t pay me I am willing to stand the consequences. This store is mine anyway. I know that giving you credit will be the same as throwing money away because you are noted for your worthlessness. That is the reason I was told to refuse you any credit. As soon as you get through eating, you may go after your wife and brothers and bring them here.” As soon as Turtle had finished eating, he went after his wife and his brothers. “Now then I have come after you. We are going to get credit. Those womanly fellows were the ones that had forbidden the traders to give me any credit, but now I have fixed them up. They told things that were not true about me, but that too I have fixed up. Now they are all after me so that I might ask them for credit, but I dislike them so that we will go clear to the end of the road where we went the first time.” When they got to the end of the road Turtle said, “Second-Born, you may go in first and get what you want.” So he went in and bought the following things: a blanket and some yellow-edged broadcloth for leggings; some armlets and small buckles for his front hair braids; a pair of boots that reached up to his

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knees so that he could wear them when he went out wading to set traps or when he went hunting; some steel traps, and a gun. All these things he bought. Then Turtle told the Third-Born to go in and get what he wanted and he bought the same things as the first one. As soon as he was through, Turtle sent the Fourth-Born into the store. He bought the same things that his two elder brothers had bought with the exception that he took a short gun instead of a long one. “Aha!” said Turtle when he saw his youngest brother coming out of the store with a short gun, “I always said that the youngest took most after me. All the others have bought guns entirely too long. With the gun you have bought, however, you can sit in a pit and load and thus you can fight.” “Say, Turtle, there you are at it again. That is why people speak so badly of you. You know that your brothers are not getting these guns for the warpath. But I knew that you were not a person to be trusted, and I knew that everything I trusted you with meant an absolute loss to me.” By this time all Turtle’s younger brothers had finished their trading. Then Turtle said to his wife, “Old woman, you may go in now and get whatever you think necessary, and after you have finished I will go in and get what I need.” So the woman went in and bought kettles, dishes, knives and some shot and powder. Then Turtle went in and got a small hand axe, four quarts of whiskey, etc. When he was all finished he told the trader that he was through and started home. When he got home, he immediately began to gamble and continued it for many days. It was the fall of the year and some people had already left the village. Soon others went and before long only a very few were left. With these few he used to gamble. He lost everything, even the things that his younger brothers had bought for themselves. Soon everyone was gone and they remained there alone. Then Turtle’s younger brothers said, “I wonder why our elder brother is doing this. He ought to be out hustling for himself. I suppose he is going to stay here permanently. It is on account of these actions that the trader said those ugly things about him.” The next morning the Second-Born said, “Older brother, all the people have moved to the best hunting places. Why are we still here? Thus we were asking one another. So we decided that we should go somewhere.” Thus spoke the Soft-Shelled Turtle. “Oh my younger brother, you are right. That is what we also said last night. Your sister-in-law and I, long ago, when we were first married, hunted in a place where there were many animals with furs. ‘There we ought to go,’ we said. However we were afraid that the other people might follow us, so we stayed here

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purposely so that we might go alone after the rest had left. It is not good to hunt with other people because they always rush forward in order to get ahead of you. So it is best to hunt alone and that is why I am doing this,” Turtle said. “If they followed us and prevented us from hunting in the way we like best we would not be able to kill anything. So tomorrow we shall move,” he said. In the meantime the traders were telling Turtle’s creditor that Turtle was still around. “You see,” they said to him, “what Turtle is doing and that is why we were told not to give him any credit. All the things with which you trusted him he lost shortly after in gambling, as well as the things belonging to his younger brothers.” Thus they spoke. “I don’t care. They were all my things and I did it because I took pity on him. I did it without expecting anything back.” Thus spoke the trader. The Turtle moved very early the next morning and the Soft-Shelled Turtle sat at the head of the canoe while Keka sat behind at the rudder. As soon as they had started Turtle said, “Younger brother, Second-Born, as soon as we get to the place I will give you warning because it is at a point where the creek empties into this water and is not noticeable. We will have to watch very closely for it is generally obstructed by young willows. As soon as one gets up the creek as far as that, the water becomes very deep. However up a little ways farther it becomes a regular creek. “When your sister-in-law and I first got married I did my hunting here, and there used to be many furred animals, bear and deer. The creek was full of game in those days and the game must be even more abundant now for that was a long time ago. If they have been breeding ever since, there must be very many animals now.” Thus he spoke. The woman said the same thing. “Oh, when we were very young, your older brother hunted here. At that time he was not much more than a boy.” Then the Turtle spoke, “Now then, you must watch very closely as the place must be pretty near here. It is impossible to find it sometimes because often there are no signs of a creek. That is why they never hunt here. The water comes into it in a slightly different manner. That is the only way that one can tell whether one has reached it.” Then the Soft-Shelled Turtle said, “Well, older brother, here is just such a place as you have described. Here the water seems to come in a sort of rushing way.” “This must be it, younger brother. Do not break any willows for if we are discovered the animals will be scared away from us in the hurry of other people to get as many animals as they can.” They cleared away the willows carefully as they went through and they bent them back after they had passed. In this way there was no trace that anyone had

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passed through. After they had gone up stream a little way, sure enough the water became deeper. “Older brother, here the water is deeper,” said the SoftShelled Turtle. “Yes, I told you that it used to be that way. It will get wider still as we go farther on and finally it will become a chain of lakes. When we reach that place we will strike our camp. In olden times it was a good camping place.” Just as he had said, the creek began to get wider and soon they saw a beaver feeding on the shore. There were also otters there. “Older brother, I am going to shoot one.” Turtle, however, forbad him. “Don’t do it, you will make them wild. Just leave them alone.” The game became more plentiful as they went along and the stream of water became wider. It was now evening. “Second-Born,” said Turtle, “Shoot one of the larger ones so that we may eat it when we arrive. This shooting will not make them wild, especially if you draw your gun back immediately, for this will muffle the report. That is what I used to do when I wished to kill secretly.” So the Second-Born shot one of the animals and, sure enough, the report of the gun was not very loud. Then they put the animal into the canoe, and the Turtle said, “Second-Born, get out and walk. After a while you will come to the timber-wood. Go towards it. That is where we used to live. It is a grove of redoak, and around the edge there used to be a growth of brush. Those you may use as frames for your furs. Have a fire ready.” At that place, therefore, he went ashore and they went on without him. Finally they heard the report of his gun. “Ah, he must have done that to a bear,” said the Turtle. Finally they arrived at the place Turtle meant; they got out and walked. It was just as he had said. The timber-wood was very thick and around the edge there was some brush. When they got to this place they found the SoftShelled Turtle building a fire already. He had a bear lying near him. Then immediately they built a lodge and the young men got ready to hunt. Turtle then said to them, “Younger brothers, when the animals become wild it is impossible to kill many of them, so don’t do it now. Besides the furs are not good yet. Come, help me camp so that your sister-in-law may make some soup for you.” So then they all helped in the making of the lodge. They wanted to go hunting right away but he would not let them. They therefore attended to the animals, the beavers and bears that they had already killed. When they had finished their lodge, Turtle said, “My younger brothers, tomorrow morning we will get the materials for the frames on which we are to place the furs we obtain; go hunt, therefore, for the necessary wood.” After a while he continued and said, “Do not hunt (game) right away for the animals

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are likely to get wild if you hunt them too soon. Let us therefore settle down here for a while and not hunt until they get used to us, and then we will be able to kill them in great numbers. It is just because the people kill them too soon that I dislike to go hunting with them.” Thus he spoke. In the morning they cut the frames for the furs, but the younger brothers said to one another, “We are tired of making these frames. Why don’t we go out hunting? What is the sense of cutting these frames if we don’t kill any game?” Then Turtle said to them, “My younger brothers, you don’t know anything about hunting if you are so desirous of hunting right away. Remember also, before letting your frames freeze, that you must dry them, because that always makes the furs look better and permits the frames to be used over and over again. If the frames are not dried before they are allowed to get frozen they become very brittle.” Turtle’s younger brothers were very tired of making frames, however, and wanted to go hunting immediately. Then Turtle spoke to them again and said, “My younger brothers, go out and get what we call a carry-all. This we generally make either of bark or simply of a piece of wood, and in that we can afterwards carry the furs which will be too heavy to carry on our backs.” So they made a carry-all for themselves. Thus they lived, only killing animals for food when their supply was exhausted. Turtle spoke to them again, “Younger brothers, as soon as it gets cold, let us make some racks for our furs. Otherwise the mice will gnaw holes in them.” So they made some racks, intending to make more as soon as these were loaded with furs. All winter they waited for the animals to get used to them and only shot animals when they needed them for food. The snow was now very deep and it was cold and the waters were all frozen hard. “Well,” said Turtle, “my younger brothers, let us begin to hunt. When the weather is like this, the animals don’t pay much attention to themselves.” The younger brothers dreaded to go out at that season but he told them to get their carry-alls ready and start with him. The first thing they came across was a beaver house. Turtle cut this open and went in and killed all the beavers who were there. Then he killed as many otters as he came across. It was very easy for there was no place to which they could run. His younger brothers were using their carry-alls to good purpose and brought home many animals. It was a very high pile of furs that they were able to stack up when they came home. At night Turtle and his wife would attend to the dressing of the skins. In the morning, when the young men were up, they saw all the furs hanging on the racks.

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In this manner they continued, day after day, until their material for frames was exhausted. “Do you now see why I wanted you to make frames? But you paid no attention to me and got tired too soon. Now we shall have to hunt and get material for our frames at the same time. This is a nuisance.” He tried to use the sticks that had been used before but they were all frozen and brittle, as the young men had not permitted them to dry first. However he found a few that had been dried and these he could use again. Then the furs were tied in bundles and placed on the racks and before long the racks were all covered. Finally they had gone over the entire hunting ground. The racks were overloaded so they roasted as much meat as they could. The young men continued hunting and were very successful. They killed many badgers and coyotes and skinned them and placed the furs on frames. It was now spring and most of the people had returned to the village. Turtle, however, was nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew of everybody else’s whereabouts, but of Turtle they knew nothing. “He must be killed,” they said. As they were thus hunting, Turtle said to his wife one day, “Old woman, I am going over to the village to see the people, for they must all be home by this time, and I will try to borrow my friend’s boat if I can. Pack the worst furs for me.” So they packed the coyote and badger skins for him and he started out. He got to the village at night. “Ho! Ho! My friend, I have come back,” he shouted. “Ah, it is good,” said his friend, “for they were saying that you had been killed.” Then the trader gave him some food. When Turtle had finished his meal, he said to the trader, “My friend, I have brought over a few furs for you. They are just outside your door.” He went out, and sure enough there he found some furs. He thanked Turtle. “Really, my friend, it is good,” he said. “I did not expect this, for I just wanted to get rid of the things and so I let you have them on credit. Indeed, it is good.” “My friend, I have only brought you the poorest furs I had. I have been hunting for you all winter and I will bring you the others if you will let me have your boat. I will start early tomorrow morning and fetch you the other furs.” “It is good, but I will send my servants along with you so you need not work. Now then, my friend, you must be tired, here therefore is something for you to drink.” Then he gave him four quarts of whiskey. All night Turtle drank and in the morning when the trader got up, he gave him some more. Then he sent his servants along with many presents so that if Turtle was really telling the truth they could give them to him. Two servants went along and early in the morning they started. The Turtle did not even have

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to do the rowing but instead drank all the time. When they got to the creek he told them it was over yonder. “The road will be full of broken sticks,” he told them. After a while they got out of the boat and walked on foot. Turtle had to be led by the two servants because he was too drunk to walk. When they got there, the food was just cooking and the servants ate with the others. Then the servants carried the furs to the boat on long sticks that they had prepared. They loaded on the boat all the furs that Turtle and his companions had obtained. Four days it took them to carry the furs to the boat, so many were piled up. Then when they were ready to start home, they put new clothes on Turtle; a black coat, what they called a king’s coat, one with a red breast. Then they put a large quantity of wampum and four silver medals around his neck. They decorated him with armlets, bracelets and yarn-belts, which they tied around his head. Finally they gave him four quarts of whiskey, and in this manner they came back. They wouldn’t let him do the slightest work, and they treated him like a king. About noon the boat appeared some distance from the village. “Well,” said the Indians, “it must be some trader’s boat.” But when they could see the occupants they recognized Turtle. “Why, Turtle is in the boat,” they said. He had the king’s clothes on and he was drunk and was being held up by the servants. “Ho! ho! It is Turtle. He has brought back very many furs,” the Indians said and stood on the beach waiting for him. “Look, he has done a good season’s work.” At the house of his friend he brought his boat to the shore. The trader was very much surprised. Then the other traders said, “Turtle, let us buy some of the furs from you.” “They do not belong to me. They belong to my friend.” “Turtle, they are worth much more than all the stores here. Indeed they are worth a great deal more. Your friend hasn’t got anything. He can’t buy all those things.” “Nevertheless, I will not sell any of them to any of you because they belong to him, for it was for him that I hunted. I tried to get credit from you but you would not give me any, and you would not trust me. This man was the only one who would give me credit, so therefore I determined to go out hunting for him and get him furs. They belong to him.” He refused to talk to them anymore. “My friend,” said the trader to Turtle, “this entire store I give to you, and I will go to my home in the morning as the boat is already loaded. The servants will watch the boat during the night as someone might want to steal something. All the whiskey in the store belongs to you too.” The next morning the trader went home, and Turtle remained in possession of the store.

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“IT WAS SO COLD THAT...” Tradition Bearer: John Rivers Source: Swenson, May. “Interview of John Rivers.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Wisconsin National Origin: European American

Tall tales flourished among Americans whose occupations depended on their ability to survive the rigors of nature. Harsh climates require hardy constitutions. These narratives, then, simultaneously served as comic entertainment and an opportunity for narrators to boast.

W

al, it was back in ’83 (1883) or ’4, that cold spell we had. Nothin been seen like it since. And it gets pretty cold every winter up in Wisconsin ... plenty cold every year in the mountains buckin’ logs. Y’ gotta buck the timber durin’ winter so’s when the thaw sets in early spring, they’re ready to send down the river. Th’ logs go down the river soon’s the ice breaks ... Course that was them days—now they skid (lumberjack jargon for felling or sawing trees, and hauling or floating the logs) the logs down diff’rent ways, by rail in some parts, by team and tressle—but mostly in the north around the Lakes there, the river’s still the best way for skidding timber ever invented. By golly that year— ’83 I believe it was—it was so cold that ... that the lumberjacks ain’t quit talkin’ about it yet ... And that reminds me of Happy Jack—he was in our outfit. Bet you never heard of Happy Jack and his derby hat. The boys always kidded this feller Happy Jack about how he was always wearing a derby. Wherever he went he would have this derby stuck onto his head—wouldn’t matter if it was morning or night or if he was in a parlor or a poolhall or out buckin’ timber or what—winter or summer, rain or shine, this feller Happy Jack had on his derby. And some said he slep’ in his derby, too, because he’d feel like he was takin’ an arm or ear off if he took off his derby which was just like some part of himself like an arm or a foot—see?

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The Midwest | “It Was So Cold That...”

Wal, and some said Happy Jack musta been born with that derby on, and couldn’t take it off. And the boys around the logging camp was always kidding him about it like that. By golly, one feller, a close pal of this here Jack, even used to say he remembered how when Happy Jack got married and they had the church wedding down to town, how he just simply balked at taking off his hat in church. And that old greasy derby nodded up and down when he said “I do.” And after that his wife couldn’t make him ever take it off either, and sure enough it sure looked like he’d worn it in bed—it was so bent and buggled and battle-worn ... Hey! I started out to tell how cold it was that there year, didn’t I? Golly, I almost forgot about how cold it was, ’splaining about Jack and his derby. But well, you’ll see how this here derby of his came to be the most important part of the story. Yup—if it hadn’t been for Happy Jack’s derby——! Wal, you see around the logging camp in ’Consin back in them days, that winter that it was so cold—coldest winter I’ve ever seen—nobody yet can tell you the exact temperature because of course it was so cold that any thermometer couldn’t hold together for a minute—the thermometers they all just went out of commission for 200 miles around. But the very coldest spot in the whole district was right there in camp where we was holed up in our bunkhouse almost two month and not a single tree was bucked during that time—we couldn’t do no work—it was so cold. And as for getting down canyon to town to get mail or provisions or anything, it was just out the question. You stop two paces away from the fire—just two or so feet away and you darn near paralyze with the frost. Wal, so after two or three weeks we was all out of grub and starvin’. All right, something had to be done—something had to be done about getting some food. Wal, the most possible thing we hit on was to go out to the river, down around there a little ways—where the logs were floated down—a half mile from camp it was—and bore a hole in the ice and let down a line and snub some fish. So it might work and it might not, but anyhow the men cut cards to choose who should try it. Wal, Happy Jack got the deuce of spades—and that being the shortest number, old Happy Jack saw how right there he was in a “deuce of a fix!” But anyhow, being good natured and willing to try anything to get his belly full especially, he said, “OK, get me a piston drill and get me a hacksaw, I’m goin’.” Wal, we gave him a drill case the ice wouldn’t give to the saw, and first we rigged him up in all the coats and jackets and woolen shirts we could spare and still keep ourselves from freezin’. And he put on all these duds and four pairs woolen socks and his leather boots and top o’ them a pair hightopped rubber boots—and when Happy Jack was ready to go out he looked like something to make your eyes bung—he looked like something stuffed up and bloated out and was as big as a brood mare and

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musta’ weighed pretty near as much. Yes sir, being not ’xactly a lean sort of a feller to start with, and all togged out like that, he musta weighed about 350 to 400 pound. Wal, Happy Jack picked up the torch and the saw in his mitts—he had 6 pair mitts on, 3 wool and 3 leather, furlined—and muffled up to the ears. And on top of his ears o’ course was settin’ that little old derby. And Jack took a long swig out of the bottle to keep his gut warm and said “OK, so long,” and he opened the door and was barely able to edge through sideways, and he went out the bunkhouse. Now we waited and waited for Jack to come back. And it was three days we waited th’out knowin what might a happened out there. Course we knew it might take some time to get through that thick floor of ice and some more time for the fish to bite—but we figured if Happy Jack couldn’t make a go of it, he’d show up to tell us so—and as for his having perished of cold—if Happy Jack with all that pertection went and froze to death, where would be the sense of any of us leavin’ the fire and going out to find him and sure get froze to death too? So we just waited, taking turns cuddling the bottle, and playin’ 21. And it was hard playin’ too on account our fingers would stick to the cards, they was so cold. It was hard shufflin’ ’em, they was like hunks of glass, and every card you could hardly see the numbers or colors they being filmed white with frost. Anyhow, after three days the cold let up a little—just a little. We could tell by rubbing our beards and hair. The tinkle of the icicles in our hair and beard had a different sound—and by this we knowed the spell was lettin’ up some. So it being not quite so bad, the bunch of us decided to take and wrap around us the blankets and things we had, and padding with newspapers and one thing or another around the house, to keep us as warm as possible—and go out to the river and look for Happy Jack. Wal, it was a sad procession, we running out there. We all of course expectin’ to have to skid Happy’s corpse back with us. And one of the boys I ’member said kinda mournful, “Jack’s gonna look mighty queer in his coffin with that derby hat on him—but I for one am here to see that no one tries to take it away from him.... Might happen his Maker wouldn’t recognize him without it!” We all ran out there to the river feeling fearful sort of—and looked around for Jack. Well, the ice on the river stretched clean across and it was as solid as a bridge of steel 50 inches thick—and clean swept—not a mark or a sign of a human foot on it. Then far out near to the middle, one of the boys spotted a little black object—and when we got close we saw it was Happy Jack’s hat layin’ there on the ice. Just his hat layin’ there alone-looking on the ice. Wal, golly, it looked mighty funny to see that derby without its owner stuck on to it. In fact it made tears come to our eyes. And that wasn’t so good because the wetness right away froze over our eyes before it had time to trickle down,

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and made everyone of us a pair of goggles, so we looked like a bunch of nearsighted professors! But anyway we ran fast as we could up to there and one of the boys reached down for the derby. But it ’peared to be froze fast to the ice—nobody could budge it. Still an all you could hear a sort of burbling sound underneath there and around that hat the ice was a darker color like water near the surface, and we came to conclude that Happy Jack had fell in the hole he’d made and the ice had frozen over again, but not had time yet to freeze so thick. Wal, what with kicking at that derby and hacking at the ice around, finally a piece broke away around the rim of that ol’ hat and as many hands as could grab hold got a hold of that derby and all yanking together, we lifted ’er up, and the ice making a screeching and crackling as it busted loose. And what was rammed on to the rim of that derby hat but Happy Jack himself frozen hard as a clinker. Yes sir, that derby was rammed on so tight it held up a man weighing about 400 pound, and more with the coat of ice on him. Yup, it had held him up and kept him from drowning. Wal, we all started a-slappin’ his back and rubbin’ his face and pumpin’ his arms and legs up and down, and he finally came to and cracked a smile. I mean he worked his jaws till a couple of inches of ice cracked loose, and we could see him grin. Then he reaches down in his boots and drags out a string of fish 14 yards long—’nuff to last us ample over the cold spell. “When I was hangin’ there by my hat, they came and swam into my boots,” Happy Jack said. “Guess the poor critters was glad to find a place some warmer than that river in this weather.” So, wal, course we went back to the bunkhouse and had us a right smart juicy fish dinner. Yup, and it seemed like right from that day the thaw set in and the cold spell was broke. But it never did get warm enough to thaw that derby off ol’ Happy’s head. Nope, Happy Jack couldn’t let go of his derby no way—it stuck to him through thick and thin. Yup, through thick and thin ice that derby stuck, and that was one time it even saved his life, by golly.

NOGGIN AND THE APPLEJACK Tradition Bearer: John Rivers Source: Swenson, May. “Interview of John Rivers.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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Date: 1938 Original Source: Wisconsin National Origin: European American

According to Mr. Rivers, his account of “Happy Jack and his Derby” and the following tale are samples of the tall tales swapped by the lumberjacks during long winter months, when they were confined to their bunkhouse, waiting for the thaw to set in so the logs could go down the river.

W

al, I’ll tell yuh—by golly it was so cold that time, I ’member that—wal, y’see this was right after a big snowfall lasting three weeks. Everyday snow, snow, snow—till we was up to th’ gables in snow. Right up to the roof of th’ bunkhouse. Then it began t’ freeze. An’ ’fore long we was ’eased in a solid wall of ice. Only air we had was from th’ chimbley which was kept open by th’ smoke from th’ fire. The heat of the smoke kep’ th’ chimbley clear. Wal, th’ cold spell it seemed like it’d never let up. An’ every night we’d cut cards for a man t’ stay over the fire when th’ rest turned in, to watch th’ fire, not let it go out. An’ one night Noggin, that was one of th’ fellers, he got the low card and stayed with th’ fire. Wal, I guess ol’ Noggin got sleepy what with th’ Applejack he’d put away an’ all. An’ he took him a nap. An’ meanwhile th’ fire died, an’ next thing we was in a fix. Th’ chimbley plugfull of icicles, so tough an’ so thick that there wasn’t no draft come down enough to light a match and make even a stick burn. Wal, there we was due to suffocate an’ freeze at th’ same time. No heat, no air, an’ it gettin’ colder by th’ minute. So what to do? Warn’t but one thing—dig ourselfs out. So th’ bunch of us we got out our cross saws an’ some band saws we had an’ we got out picks an’ one thing or another, an’ opened up th’ door (lucky it opened in, cause a solid wall of ice hit right smack up against th’ bunkhouse on all sides). An’ we commenced to saw ourselfs a tunnel through that ice. Now, th’ bunkhouse was set in a sort of gully-like, with th’ front facing a hill, see? Only to the back th’ ground was flat for quite some space to th’ other side of the gully. An’ we figgered to dig out toward th’ hill an’ first thing you know, diggin up-slope that way, you’d hit the surface, seein’ the snow, before it froze solid, had drifted down into th’ gully. An’ most likely left th’ top a’ the hill at least shallow enough so when you got that far you’d be above the drift.

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The Midwest | Noggin and the Applejack

Now un’erstan’ we could’t hardly see our way, th’ ice bein’ so deep an’ thick it shut out all but a little bit a’ daylight. An’ bein’ way above our heads—four times as tall as a man, at least—we couldn’t see above us just where we was goin’. Wal, it musta been near onto a week we dug along that tunnel expectin’ t’ reach th’ top where th’ hill sloped enough. Course th’ bigger an’ longer th’ tunnel got, th’ more air we had, but whew! how cold it was. Ef it hadn’t been for that Applejack whiskey—(we had a-plenty a jugs of it on hand, an we took aplenty with us)—I doubt of a one of us woulda come out a’ that ordeal alive. But as it was we had away t’ keep us warm inside anyhow. Wal, by golly, as I was sayin’, we sawed an’ dug and sawed an’ dug for it musta been a week or more. An’ it looked like we’d never make it to th’ top. An’ the ice seemin’ t’ get denser an’ the light comin’ through fainter. But we went on sawin’ an’ diggin’ our tunnel for ’nother week or two, every day expectin’ to hit the top. Wal, now Noggin—he was th’ feller let the fire die out—we penalised him, see? We made him stay at th’ cabin and never told him where th’ Applejack was hid. It was in th’ bottom o’ th’ wood barrel all th’ time—An’ by not lettin’ him go ’long with us an’ cuttin’ down on his liquor, we figured that was a fit punishment for a feller who’d lay down on watch an’ maybe ’danger th’ lives of his pals that way like he done. So, wal, like I said, we was diggin’ an’ diggin’ an’ sawin’ an’ sawin’, an’ with very discouragin’ results. An’ I tell yuh it was so cold that our hands froze to th’ sawhandles an’ when we laid down now an’ then, usually on Sundays, t’ get a little shuteye, we’d have to sleep with our saw arm ’tached up to the handles where th’ saws were stuck in the ice. Now we never knew if it was hardly night or day an’ so a-course we had to make our own system of keepin’ track of th’ days passin’. So we had a timekeeper who did nothin’ but stand an’ count th’ saw strokes of one feller, an, we figgered roughly five billion, four million, eight thousand, six hundred an’ ninety-nine saw strokes made about twenty-four hours. (Them boys we had up there in th’ ’Consin hills could saw fast alright.) An so we counted th’ days that way. An’ Sunday, like I said, we set apart for sleep, figgerin’ one sleep a week ought to be a-plenty for tough, hardy fellers like us jacks, ’specially in an emergency. Wal, wakin’ up an’ startin’ work Monday morning was sure a problem, ’count we’d have to pick th’ icicles offen our beards an’ out-a our eyelashes, an’ sometimes hold a lighted match in our mouths so as to thaw a hole down our throats for th’ Applejack to run down. Y’know, a good whiskey is a godsend in cold weather. Yup, this here Applejack—I reckon you wonder why it didn’t freeze too, bein’ a liquid. Wal,

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y’know why in winter they put alcohol in car radiators—? Yup, that Applejack was good stuff by golly—about 112 percent! So we went on a diggin’. Now, course all the ice we dug away, it had t’ go someplace, didn’t it? It had to take up space some place. An’ so th’ only thing we could do was keep pushin’ it behind us, makin’ th’ tunnel, an’ by an’ by all th’ space in back of us was filled up, so we was standin’ in a sort of room-like, an’ diggin’. An’ this way, not seein’ either back’ards or for’ards, we had very little notion where we was headin’, ’cept we kep’ a-headin’ as close as we could figger for th’ side a that hill. Golly, that was an awful long cold spell that year. ’Cordin’ to our figgerin’, when we’d been diggin’ fer two month an’ eight days, it was time for th’ thaw to set in, but nope, it kep’ as cold as ever. It was so cold that pipe smokin’ got to be a menace. How was that—? Why, you’d light up an’ you’d puff an’ you’d happen t’ blow a ring or two—an’ what happened? It was so cold that th’ smoke rings would freeze solid, like doughnuts, an’ drop down on yuh. One feller nearly got his eye put out from havin’ a frozen smoke ring drop back into his face. Wal, anyhow, we just kep on diggin’—an’ t’ make th’ story short, I’ll take you t’ th’ end right now. Yup, one day we hit th’ end a’ our trail at last. It was three months an’ 24 days to be exact when we quit diggin’. Know why? We finally hit right up against th’ bunkhouse door! Yup. Right where we started from—right at th’ front door. Naturally, just like children lost in th’ wood, we traveled ’round in a perfec’ circle. We’d swung way out to th’ left, away from th’ hill, made a wide circle over flat land an’ fetched up back where we started from. Wal, some of th’ boys was for bein’ discouraged. But right away I figgered that things was gonna be alright. Cause through th’ crack o’ th’ door I seen firelight. Yup, we clomped in, an there we seen how Noggin was all humped up cozy afore th’ fire, which was blazin’ away pretty as yuh please, an’ him cuddlin’ a jug of Applejack like it was a baby, an’ a big contented grin on his face. An’ when we come in froze stiff, our saws an’ picks hangin’ off our hands froze solid, why ol’ Noggin he commenced t’ laugh. An’ he laughed till he was tied in knots. “I been here soft an’ warm a gettin’ myself liquored up nice,” he says. “While you fellers been traipsin’ off to hell an’ gone through th’ cold. Ef that’s punishin’,” he says, “punish me some more. I like it.” Wal, we axed him how he got th’ fire started, an’ after while he up an’ told how he poked around an’ poked aroun’ till he found where th’ Applejack was hid—an’ when he found it bottom o’ th’ woodbox, it was a cinch to pour a little

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The Midwest | Nebraska Weather

on the fire an’ with that firewater wettin’ th’ wood, th’ touch of a match sent th’ flames roarin’ up an’ thawed out that chimbley in no time. Wal, we settled down to wait for th’ thaw, an’ it wasn’t long afore all that ice loosened an’ slid down th’ gully to th’ river. An’ soon after that we had th’ logs rollin’ again. But Noggin never got tire ribbin’ us about how we was for punishin’ him, an’ the Applejack startin’ th’ fire an’ all.... Yup, by golly, yuh gotta admit there ain’t nothin’ like good ol’ 112 percent in cold weather....!

NEBRASKA WEATHER Tradition Bearer: E. O. Skeidler Source: Hartman, George. “Interview of E. O. Skeidler.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 18 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/ wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Nebraska National Origin: German American

The following tall tales are bound together as comments both on the severity of the weather on the Nebraska plains and the survival ability of a resourceful pioneer. In all three cases, the performer of these mock personal experience narratives finds himself in a desperate situation due to the unpredictability and brutality of prairie storms. By keeping his wits about him, he survives all three trials unharmed.

The Dachshund and the Downpour

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came from Germany many years ago and settled in Atkinson and took up farming.

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In Nebraska in those days there wasn’t very many good dogs, no dogs like we had in Germany like the Dachshunds. So I sent back to Germany having one of my relatives ship me a Genuine German Dachshund. Several weeks later I received word from the depot that my dog had arrived and I went down to get it. I drove a wagon down to the depot and got my crate with the dog in it. I thought that I wouldn’t uncrate it until I got home so I put the crate in back of the wagon. As I started back to my farm it started raining. I was driving two fast horses so I whipped them and they started with the speed of lightning. They ran so fast that the rain did not catch me or get me or the horses wet. The rain as I looked back was a cloudburst. I arrived at the farm, drove in the barn. I looked back in the wagon and the poor dog was drowned and the horses and me were not even wet.

The Buckskin Harness

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went down to the general store and bought a new buckskin harness. I put it on my horses and thought I would go out in field and haul in a load of hay. I went out in the field and loaded my wagon with hay. Just as I started to return back to my barn it started to rain. It simply poured down! I started up to get back and the new harness stretched and left me and the wagon there and the horses stretched the harness clear to the barn! I walked back to the barn and the rain stopped and the sun came out very hot. My horses were standing by the barn with the new harness still stretched from them clear to the field. As the sun beat down on the harness the harness warped and here came the wagon with the load of hay finally stopping just right where it belonged—behind the horses!

The Big Cyclone

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was out feeding my hogs one day when all of a sudden a cyclone came up and carried me and a hog a mile up in the air! There we was, way up in the clouds, the hog and me remaining stationary up there held up by the cyclone. I had to think quick on how to get down safely to the earth so I grabbed the hog by the tail, and as we were on the edge of the cyclone I shoved the hog out of the cyclone and down we went for about 100 feet and then I pushed the hog back into the cyclone, I kept doing this until the hog and me were safely back on the ground again!

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The Midwest | Dividing the Chicken

DIVIDING THE CHICKEN Tradition Bearer: Julian Christensen Source: Taylor, Archer. “An Old-World Tale from Minnesota.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 555–56. Date: 1885 Original Source: Minnesota National Origin: Irish American

Folklorist Archer Taylor notes that versions of this tale date back to the seventh century. In its present incarnation, the plot exists as an ethnic joke. During the period of anti-Irish sentiment in which it was recorded, such jokes commonly promoted a derisive view of the Irish (see, for example, Vol. II, “The Irishman and the Pumpkin,” p. 73, and “The Sea Tick and the Irishman,” p. 74). In this case, an Irish trickster gains the advantage.

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nce there was an old Irish tramp. He came to a farmer’s and asked for some dinner. The farmer told him to come in and sit down to dinner. There were a German and a Frenchman there too. The farmer said: “Well, you are the last man to come; you shall cut and serve the chicken.” The Irishman agreed, and they brought him a whole chicken. He cut off the head and gave it to the farmer, and said, “You are the head man here. You shall have the head.” He cut off the neck and gave it to the farmer’s wife, and said, “You are next to the head, so you shall have the neck.” He cut off the wings and gave one to each of the two daughters of the farmer, and said, “You will soon fly away from the home nest, and you shall each have a wing.” He said to the Frenchman and the German, “You two poor fellows have a long way to go to get home,” and gave each of them a foot. Then he said, “I am just a poor old Irish tramp. I’ll eat what is left.”

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SACRED TALES

THE TRAVELER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Radin, Paul. “Literary Aspects of Winnebago Mythology.” Journal of American Folklore 39 (1926): 37–45. Date: 1926 Original Source: Winnebago National Origin: Native American

Although it possesses all the attributes that contemporary folklorists identify with myth, “The Traveler” contains the eyewitness testimony of a living individual as a final validating device. The conflict on the supernatural level between the Waterspirits and Thunderbird is important in Winnebago cosmology. This theme of conflict between the Waterspirits and Thunderbird, the importance of family (and, by extension, one’s people), and the use of the vision quest to acquire a guardian spirit are all explored in this narrative. An implicit warning is that, as in classical Greek mythology, the supernatural beings are entirely willing to exploit humans for their own ends.


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arthmaker created four large Waterspirits for this continent. The youngest one was placed at a place called Long Lake (south of St. Paul, Minn.). Long Lake and the Big Water (Missisippi) are both Waterspirit villages. The Mississippi is called the road. The Waterspirits do not have many children. Spirits are not like human beings; they have one, two, or at most four children. The youngest of the four Waterspirits had one child. They were black Waterspirits and they had bobbed tails; their child was just like them. As soon as he was born he began moving about, he would never remain quiet. As he grew older he became more and more active and when he learned how to crawl around, he was never quiet for a moment. Finally he began to go out of doors. After some time the old Waterspirit gave a feast and invited many people. At this feast he gave his child a name. He called him Chief Child. The child from this time on became worse and worse. Finally he began to walk around the village. He went all around it and soon became acquainted with the people living in it. He entered all the lodges in his village. As he grew older he enlarged the circle of his traveling. He traveled all over this world, and one by one he became acquainted with all the people who live here. Finally he traveled over all the four worlds and everyone knew him. They began to call him Traveler. They would never call him by his real name; even the children knew him and called him Traveler. After awhile he began to travel over the ocean. Thus he acted and thus he visited every lodge and saw everybody down to the children. He visited all the villages that exist. It was only once in a great while that he would return to his home. His father told him not to travel around so much but he paid no attention to his father’s words. After he had visited every place in the ocean, then, it is said, he began visiting all the places under the earth. There he visited all the villages. He also visited all the private dwellings and everyone knew him even down to the children. Then he went visiting in the heavens. Everywhere he went they called him Traveler. Finally he went back home and lay down, it is said. That same evening, someone came and told his father that he was to go to such and such a place. The old man went and was gone all night. In the morning he returned and the old woman offered him food but he said that he did not care to eat and he refused. He did not eat anything. Thus he sat all day and was very quiet and did nothing but smoke. When he finished smoking he sat with bowed head, and as quickly as he raised his head he would fill his pipe again. Thus he would act until evening. Then he would go out again and not return until morning. He would come back very early. Then again he would refuse to eat and sit there evidently thinking about something all day.

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The Midwest | The Traveler

He never spoke a word. In the evening, he went out again and remained out all night. Then he would return early in the morning. After he had done this a number of times, Traveler spoke to him and said, “What is it you go out to do every night, father? And why do you not eat when you get back in the morning, and why do you sit with bowed head all day thinking about something? Why are you doing these things? I think you ought to tell me.” Then the old man answered and said, “You, of course, never think. You are wayward. Indeed, most truly can it be said that you are a wayward person. Our people are thinking both by day and by night and are quiet. We know that our life is going to be hard and we are trying to think of how to overcome the threatening misfortunes. All this we are thinking about. But what are you doing? You are merely foolish; you never think of anything. All the great chiefs are going to be killed and even now they are counseling us how to prevent it. The Thunder-chief has a son who has been fasting for a long time and he has been blessed with the power to kill all the great Waterspirits, and tomorrow he is going to kill them. Tomorrow at noon is the time, that we are all to hold a council over any means of safety we can think of. If he kills the great ones first, then he will afterwards kill the others and then there will be no Waterspirits left after a while. For this reason we are thoroughly frightened. All the spirits that exist seem to have blessed the chief’s son and it is really impossible to combat him, for he is far more powerful than any of us. He is really invincible. That is what they are counseling over. “But you are foolish, and you never think of anything. Ever since you were born we have had worry on your account. You never worried about anything. You never did anything that was right. All that you ever did was to travel over the earth and let the people make fun of you. They have nicknamed you the Traveler, instead of calling you by your real name that I gave you. You have trampled upon the name I gave you. Your actions are more significant than the name I gave you. That is why they called you the Traveler. Traveler! Such a name! They are merely making fun of you. Although Earthmaker did not make me thus (i.e., to have a son like you) nevertheless you have caused me to be so. I am one of the greatest spirits Earthmaker created. He molded me with his own hands, and I was not born (from a woman’s womb).” Thus the old man spoke. Then Traveler said, “Now then, my father, I am the only child you have but ever since I was born you have never spoken a kind word to me. Every time you speak you scold me. This earth, the seas, the places under the earth, the places in the heavens, all these have I visited and all the lodges in these villages have I entered and yet I never heard anyone speak to his children as you have always spoken to me. You never spoken kindly to me. But, father, what are you saying? How can it be? You said that you were not born, that you were one of the greatest spirits Earthmaker ever created;

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that he molded you with his own hands. Only just now you have said that, and yet what manner of being must he be who can kill a creation of Earthmaker’s? And yet you say that the one who is to do it, to kill you, is one who was born of a woman’s womb? How can it be possible for such a one to overcome you? Indeed, I do not believe it possible that one born of a woman’s womb can kill one whom Earthmaker created with his own hands. You are always uneasy about something and have no confidence in yourself. I will meet the son of the Thunderbird first, and afterwards, if he overcomes me, you can do as you please with me.” “My, my! Just listen to the way he talks! Why, what do you amount to? Even those who are vastly superior to you have never dared to speak in that way. You don’t amount to anything. Why, you were not even able to fast! You have not even blackened your face! You have indeed said a shameless thing! It would be foolish of you to meet him first, and indeed why should you do it? Your name would become notorious all over the world, and what a bad name it would be! The Traveler! A name that was given as an insult! And you to meet the Thunderbird’s son first! Why, it would become known everywhere and it would be a shameful thing. Don’t speak of it again. Stop (talking about) it. It will be a shameful thing for me to hear of it. It is enough that people are making fun of you. But do not speak of your intention again. Although you are wayward and have no sense of shame, nevertheless, don’t let anyone hear of it.” Thus the old man spoke. “Father, I have said it already, and I will do as I have said; nothing that you can say will shake me. Indeed, your words urge me on. Whatever is to happen, let it happen. Let me die first. As I am the one who is being ridiculed, let the one who is being ridiculed die first, so that it may be known all over the world. Then the people will know that I died for them, my own people. Then they will really have reason to make fun of me” (i.e., not because he died for them but because he was defeated by a Thunderbird). Then the old man said: “My son, you are my only so; you are my only child and I love you with a selfish love. I did not mean to scold you, I merely wanted to tell you all the wrong things that you have done so that you might rectify them and live in the right way afterward. My son, ever since you were born you have been wayward and I have spoken to you at all times with the purpose of making you act right. My son, I did not speak to you, when I scolded you, with any hatred in my heart, for I love you very much, so do not do anything rash. Do not go out to fight the Thunderbird for if anything happens to you, what will we do? We should not be able to endure it. And my son, if you really have any reason to believe that you can overcome the Thunderbird, put off your combat with him until we are all gone and then, if there is no help for it, you may do as you like. Do not do it now, however, for you will cause us to worry very much.”

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When his father had finished, his mother began to speak to him, “My son, I, too, like your father love you selfishly. Do not carry out your plan now for if you were to die before us, we should not be able to bear it. Your father is right.” Thus the woman pleaded with him earnestly, but the Traveler replied: “Father, mother, nothing that you can say will shake me in my resolve. I have given you my word and I will do as I have said. And, father, when you go out again tonight, I want you to tell the people what I have told you. Remember that I will not go back on my word.” But the old man said again: “My son, do not do it.” Thus he pleaded with him again but without avail. Then his mother also pleaded with him again but in vain. He would not draw back. “My son,” said the old man then, “I see that with all our arguments we have not been able to shake you in your purpose. I thought that even if you have confidence in yourself, you might let one of the greater spirits try first. However, you do not wish it that way. The spirits at their council said that whosoever should be able to kill the son of the Thunderbird would be made the chief of this earth, and that there would be erected for him a lodge in the center of the earth where it is thickest and where no harm will ever be able to reach him. There, in the lodge made of iron, would he live. This will be the reward of the one who rescues us.” In the evening, when his father went out, the Traveler went along with him. Finally, they came to a long lodge extending toward the east. When they came near, there to their surprise some people were standing outside the lodge around an open camp fire. They were all young men. Father and son entered. The lodge was full of people. Four persons acted as attendants and went around filling the pipes of the people sitting there. As soon as a person had exhausted his tobacco, the attendants would fill his pipe again. Those who acted as attendants were the otter, the wolf, the loon, and the crying swan. Then the father of the Traveler rose and told those who were assembled what his son had said, and he told them also what he had answered him. All those present expressed their assent. “Now then, it is good. Where is your son?” So one of the attendants said, “Outside there are a few young men standing around a fire that they have built for themselves and there I saw him talking to them.” “Go and call him,” they said. So one of the attendants went out and going up to the young man said, “Hello, the people inside are asking for you.” The Traveler did not say anything but merely laughed and went in. “Now then, make room for him in the middle of the lodge,” the people said. So they made a place for him near his father. Immediately an attendant took his pipe and filled it and handed it to him. Thus

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he sat smoking. After awhile, someone rose and told him what his father had said, namely, that whosoever overcame the son of the Thunderbird would be made chief of this earth. Then toward the end of his speech he thanked the Traveler for what he was about to do and told him that no one else had said anything like it. Then the Traveler arose and told them what his father had done; how he had returned every morning and not eaten anything all day; how, finally, he had scolded him and how he had exchanged words with his father, and he continued saying that he would not go back on his word. “Indeed, I will not sit down again but will immediately start out to make my preparations. Perhaps I may overcome the Thunderbird. So have your soldiers ready and when it is time, get the lodge ready. Wherever you intend to place the lodge, be sure that you make it strong. Well, see that it is ready in time.” At the spot where he stood was the center pole of the lodge. At the base of this pole was a hole and through this he crawled and came out on the other side, under the earth. He appeared right near his home. There he took what he needed and started out again. He crawled down through the base of the center pole again, and continued traveling under the earth. Finally he came to the mouth of the Mississippi, and proceeded up that river until he had passed its source and neared a dried-up spring that was hardly noticeable; all that one could see was a moist spot. Originally, this spring was a door to a lodge that in former times had stood there. It was a Waterspirit lodge and he entered it (the ruins). He repaired the lodge and placed guards at the entrance. There he lived. The spring was very pleasant to behold so there he remained. Soon he noticed that some human being was fasting there, so he had someone call him. This attendant told the young man who was fasting that he had been sent after him and that he was to go back with him. When the young man had been brought into the presence of the Traveler, the latter said, “Now then, grandson, I will bless you. Never before have I blessed a human being. You are the first one to receive a blessing from me. Because you have made yourself suffer so much, because you have thirsted yourself to death and made yourself truly pitiable, you shall live the full extent of life. You shall die of old age. Remember that your natural life is very short. I was not born of a woman’s womb, but Earthmaker molded me with his own hands.” Then the young man went away and told his father about it. “Father, last night I dreamt,” and he told him about the blessing of the Waterspirit. “My son, it is good. The Waterspirits are the greatest spirits of the world. You have had a good dream.” Then the young man fasted again and after four days and nights of fasting, the attendants of the Traveler again came after him. “Grandson,” said the

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Traveler, “I bless you because you made yourself a pitiable object (in your weeping). I am one of the greatest spirits Earthmaker created and I have never blessed anyone before. Now I have blessed you and you need not fast any longer. All the spirits know I have blessed you and no one else will say anything to you (i.e., bless you). And, indeed, who is my equal? Who could give you a greater blessing than I. So do not fast any more. You shall never be in want of anything. Your lodge shall always be supplied with the things you need.” Then the young man looked at the lodge and saw it filled with all that was valuable. “Now then,” continued the Traveler, “with all this I bless you.” Then the young man went away and told his father the next morning that he had dreamt again. His father said, “My son, it is a good dream. So fast again.” Then the young man fasted again for four nights and four days, and at the end of that time, the attendants of Traveler came after him again. When he was brought once more to Traveler, the latter said, “Now then, my grandson, I bless you. This I told you before and I also told you to stop fasting, yet you persist in fasting. With all the things that you could possibly desire, I have blessed you; with all the things that human beings possess, with all the things that animals possess, these I have given to you.” Then the young man went away again and told his father. “Now then, my son, it is good. I told you to fast again and you have done it. Indeed it is good. These Waterspirits are very great spirits. So, my son, fast again.” So the young man fasted again for four nights and, once more, Traveler sent for him. “Now then, my grandson,” said Traveler, “stop fasting. I told you that long ago, but evidently I could not make you understand. I knew right along, however, that you were seeking that which I am now about to give you. Of what use is it to kill anyone? Earthmaker did not create me for that purpose, but nevertheless I am in control of war blessings. The first time you go on the warpath, you will be the leader. You will be given (as a victim) a man who possesses no weapons (with which to defend himself). Go, for you shall be victorious. The second time you go on the warpath, if you so wish it, you may have two men. The third time you will kill three, and the fourth time, you may have a whole village. I thought that it would not be necessary for you to use my body (i.e., medicines), but now I will let you see it. Tomorrow at noon, you will see me and then you may make medicine objects for yourself (from my bones). As long as the human race shall endure so long will this medicine-box made from my bones endure. When I say ‘day’ I mean what I call ‘day’ which you call the middle of the summer. That is what I mean. And when I say my body is here, I do not mean in this precise spot. My body is the water and wherever there is water, there you will see me. When it is time for you to come I will let you know. I bless you, my grandson, and I want you to bring

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your relatives with you when you go to obtain your medicine-box. I shall see to it that the animals you desire come out of the water. I will feed you all. Now, grandson, what more could you want? So do not fast again; go immediately to your house. Remember, you must come back in the morning (i.e., at noon).” Then the young man went home and told his father all about it. “My son, this is good. You have dreamt for all your people. I thought it would happen thus and that is why I wished you to continue fasting.” Then his father thanked him again. Now the young man stopped fasting. Then the people of the youth’s village were told of the promise of the Waterspirit, so they all moved to another place. When they got there, they found many bears, otters, beaver, etc. They had indeed very much food. They lived very near the spring. They were able to get many furs and succeeded in killing many deer. In the spring they moved back again to their old village, where they sold their furs. Then they went back to their home. Now the summer had come and the time mentioned by Traveler was near. Then Traveler said to the youth, “Come alone and bring your offerings in a boat.” It is said that the place was called Big Lake (Lake Winnebago). The next morning, at the appointed time, the young man went there. He put all the necessary things into his boat and started out. About noon he thought he noticed something, so he looked carefully and there he saw unexpectedly a drizzling rain and he heard a roaring sound and the earth shook. The roaring was very loud and in the mist he saw a man. He was smiling. Above the place he stood were the colors of the rainbow; and there were eight rainbows above him. Around the man’s waist was wrapped four times the tail of a Waterspirit. (The Waterspirits are able to reach anything with their tails, even to a height four times that of the trees; so high can they swing their tails in which is their strength. This Waterspirit was a bob-tailed one. When he fought his tail was visible.) The Waterspirit had been rendered unconscious. Neither of the two combatants (i.e., the Waterspirit and the Thunderbird) was able to extricate himself from the other’s grasp. When the Waterspirit began to exert his power, he would pull the Thunderbird almost under the water, and when the Thunderbird began to exert his power, he would lift the Waterspirit nearly out of the water. Suddenly the Waterspirit said to his grandson, “My grandson, it is all your fault that I have come to this, for I blessed you and I promised to show myself to you. This one here (my enemy) heard it and came first. My grandson, he has caused me to suffer very much so shoot him for my sake.” Then the Thunderbird said, “Ah, my younger brother, what this one says is not true. My younger brother, he is an enemy of yours, so shoot him for my sake, for he has caused me to suffer very much.”

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Traveler replied, “Now, grandson, he is not telling you the truth. If he was such a friend of yours, why did he never pay any attention to you? Indeed he is not telling you the truth. He has never done for you what I have done. If he is your brother and if he is telling you the truth, you would have known it long ago. So shoot him for me. He has caused me to suffer very much.” “My younger brother, he is not telling you the truth. He has not blessed you in reality (i.e., to benefit you), but he has blessed you so that he might get you to come here to help him. We are indeed brothers, but this one is your enemy and he would never bless us or bless me. My younger brother, he has caused me to suffer, so shoot him for me now.” Thus they continued for a long time. Whenever the Waterspirit spoke, the young man would believe him, and whenever the Thunderbird spoke the young man would believe him in turn. Finally the young man was convinced that the Thunderbird was right, and he made ready to shoot the Waterspirit. The latter knowing this said to the young man, “Well, go ahead and shoot me. But in truth you do not appreciate what I have done for you. Remember this too: if you shoot me I am not the only Waterspirit in existence. Remember that the water is my body. You shall never dare to touch water, for it will be the body of a Waterspirit that you are touching and it will always remind you of me. All the Waterspirits hear me. You yourself, however, will not escape.” Thus he frightened him and the young man shot the Thunderbird. “O my! O my! My younger brother, he did not conquer me fairly. Indeed we have not been defeated fairly. Had I known that he would do this, I also would have blessed you as he did. He defeated us by treachery; younger brother. This must have been his intention for he covered his tracks when he came here. Younger brother, he lied to you, when he spoke to you about himself. He told you that he was one of the greatest spirits Earthmaker created, but that is not true; he is only the son of one of them. He was born of a woman’s womb. He is merely the son of one of the great spirits that Earthmaker placed in Long Lake. All that he has told you is untrue. Younger brother, you however began it and you will therefore not live much longer. Even now, as you go home, you will meet a large war party and you will be the first one to be killed. You have brought ruin on all your relatives, for they too will be slain. Younger brother, he has tricked us. Now, that is all.” That was all. Thunderbird was taken under the water. The young man’s heart was filled with remorse, but it was of no avail, for he had already shot the Thunderbird. Then he went home and told his father what had happened. The old man spoke a good deal but nothing could now be done. There was no help for it. Then both started out and on the way, they met a large

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war party and all the occupants of the old man’s lodge were killed. Those not related to him were not harmed at all. As soon as the Waterspirit was under the surface of the water, he had the soldiers who were in readiness bind the Thunderbird and take him back to the lodge where the Waterspirits had held their council. There all the spirits who exist on this earth came to see the Traveler. The lodge was entirely filled. (It was their purpose) to have the Thunderbird lie stretched out until his entrails were white and then they were to eat him. A person named Kenaxga not long ago came from the lodge of the Waterspirit and told of seeing the Thunderbird there. In the center of the lodge he lay bound with irons. He said that when the Waterspirits filled his pipe, he (Kenaxga) took it and let the Thunderbird smoke it for a while, and the latter was very thankful. So there Kenaxga saw him. This is a true story and it occurred even after the Whites came to this continent. They also know of these things. It is indeed true that Kenaxga saw the Thunderbird and the Waterspirits about to devour him. The relatives of Traveler were very thankful for what he had done. In the beginning they did not think that he was capable of doing it. As he was their only son, his parents feared for him. Of all the spirits that exist on this earth, Traveler is the chief.

PROVIDENCE HOLE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Weippiert, G. W. “Legends of Iowa.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 288–89. Date: 1889 Original Source: Iowa National Origin: European American

The local legend of Providence Hole provides a specific instance of divine intervention to save a child. Such tales provide historical depth to a region and reinforce religious faith.

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carcely less interesting is a bit of legendary talk current in the region of the Wyoming Hills (a chain of mound-like elevations located on the western shore of the Mississippi River, between the towns of Davenport and Muscatine, Iowa). These hills were once upon a time the meeting place of thousands of Indians, and hundreds of their dead were buried in gigantic mounds constructed on the crests of the elevations. When the white settlers first appeared, they received a cold welcome from the red men who wandered through the country which was once their own, but had been ceded to the United States government by their chiefs. The savages carried vengeance in their hearts and murder in their eyes; and many a bold agriculturist, who had braved the hardships of pioneer life to acquire some land for his family, never returned from his cornfield, and the wailing and lamentations of widowed women and fatherless children were echoed from one farm to the other almost every week. One of these men went out one Sunday morning to collect his cattle. He ascended one of the sloping hills, not noticing the form of an Indian who was lying concealed among the tall weeds growing on the summit. The settler’s foot never crossed the threshold of his home again. He was cruelly murdered by the hidden foe, and his body thrown in the waters of the Mississippi. His wife, growing anxious about his welfare, at noon sent out her little daughter to hasten her father’s return. The child, inured to danger, undertook the task; but had not proceeded far when she noticed a red man on the hill, and, turning around, one behind her. Escape seemed impossible; but just at that moment a crevice large enough to conceal her opened in the side of the hill. She sought the refuge thus providentially offered; and as soon as she had concealed herself the opening closed, and to her startled sight was revealed a cavern of large dimensions, of which she was the only occupant. Not until the following evening did the crevice open again. The girl, almost famished by this time, crept out of her hiding-place, and, seeing that all danger was past, ran home, where she related her strange story to a number of neighbors who had met at the cabin to solve the mystery of her disappearance. Subsequent searches failed to reveal a cavern anywhere near where the girl had been so miraculously saved; but it would, nevertheless, be a dangerous thing to doubt the veracity of this tale in the presence of the few survivors of those stirring times; and popular taste has applied to the hill, which will sooner or later be made famous by this story, the not very euphonic but very significant name of “Providence Hole.” This pretty piece of fiction, the writer is constrained to add, has a prototype in a German story, but it is doubtful whether the people who repeated it on the

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banks of the Mississippi fifty years ago were aware of the existence of the Teutonic fable. It is safe to claim the story of Providence Hole as a purely Western production, which, when properly embellished, will be entitled to rank with the highest specimens of folklore.

RESCUE BY LIGHTNING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Weippiert, G. W. “Legends of Iowa.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 289. Date: 1889 Original Source: Iowa National Origin: European American

This local legend, like the tale of “Providence Hole” (p. 236), provides historical dimensions for the locale and reinforces the belief that God protects the innocent. Unlike the cavern of the former narrative, however, the “tree made famous by this incident is still standing,” providing physical testimony of the veracity of the event.

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nother and scarcely less interesting instance of providential interference with the affairs of men has many believers among the good folks inhabiting the bottom lands of the Cedar near its confluence with the Iowa River. In the early days of Iowa this part of the territory was inhabited by a wild, desperate class of people, who lived on what they could steal from more industrious neighbors. Horse-stealing was the favorite pursuit of the male portion of this community, and many enterprising men saw the fruits of their toil destroyed for want of live-stock which disappeared at the most inopportune times. Horsethieves in those days expected no mercy when they had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the settlers; and when one bright June morning in the year 1840, nine of them were caught by a detachment of outraged farmers, they prepared themselves to meet death with bold faces.

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The Midwest | The Rolling Skull

The gang was conducted to a huge oak tree on the banks of the Cedar River, whose nine branches invited the settlers to finish their work of vengeance. One man after the other was supplied with a hempen neck-tie, and arrangements were made to send them to kingdom come at the same instant. The signal was given. A fierce stroke of lightning and a deafening roar of thunder followed the command which was to end the earthly existence of nine human beings. Eight bodies dangled in the air. The ninth was lying on the ground, saved by the lightning which had ripped the branch on which he was hanging from the trunk of the tree. It was a miracle, for the man, after recovering from his stupor, proved his innocence to the satisfaction of the “vigilants” (vigilantes). The eight thieves had met their fate, but Providence interfered in a way that could not be misunderstood to save the life of the guiltless. The tree made famous by this incident is still standing, at least it was two years ago, and the strange tale here related has become a treasured legend among the old settlers of the vicinity, which is no longer the hiding-place of desperadoes, but a veritable Eden inhabited by prosperous and intelligent farmers.

THE ROLLING SKULL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kercheval, George Truman. “An Otoe and an Omaha Tale.” The Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 201–4. Date: 1893 Original Source: Omaha National Origin: Native American

The patterns of four that dominate the following tale signal its native American origin. The rolling skull (or head) is widely distributed in Native American folktales, from the Algonquin in the Northeast to the Maidu in California. Kinship terms are sometimes simply polite forms of address. However, in this Plains version the kinship terms may be significant; in the Cheyenne version of the tale, the skull is identified as actually belonging to a vengeful sister-in-law. The old man’s final comments

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are somewhat cryptic, but they may be a reference to what happened the last time the female protagonist picked up a mysterious object.

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woman was walking along, she was proud because she had on her finest clothes, and she met another woman, who asked: “Where are you going, sister-in-law?” “I am going off a long ways.” “Let us go together, then,” said the second woman. They walked on, and met a third woman, who asked: “Where are you going?” and when they answered her she said: “I am going also; let us go together;” and they walked along one after the other. They met a fourth woman, who asked: “Where are you going, sister-in-law?” and she also joined them. Walking in single file, the women came to a pile of bones where people had died. The first woman kicked them with her foot, and, turning to the second woman, said: “These belong to you. Carry them.” The second woman kicked the bones with her foot and said contemptuously to the third woman: “These are the bones of your relatives. Carry them.” The third woman kicked them with her foot, and, turning to the fourth woman, said: “These bones belong to you. Carry them.” And the fourth woman answered: “This is the skull of my sister-in-law. You should not be disrespectful. I will carry it along so that you shall respect it.” The women wore a skin belted in at the waist, making a skirt of one part, and leaving the other long enough to cover the back and to draw over the head, and the last woman put it between her back and the blanket, saying: “I shall carry it.” But after a time she wearied of carrying it, and she put it down by the roadside in a place where no one would molest it. But the skull followed them, singing: “There were four women passing along here. One of them is my sister-in-law.” The women heard it singing, and ran. When they camped for the night the skull came up and destroyed the first woman. It bit her and she died. When the three women awoke and found one dead, they fled from the skull, but it followed, singing: “There were four women passing along here. One of them is my sister-in-law.” They ran away from it and camped for the night, but when they awoke in the morning they found another woman had been killed by the skull, so again they fled, but again they heard it singing: “There were four women passing along here. One of them is my sister-in-law.”

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The Midwest | The Rolling Skull

Next morning only one woman awoke, and the skull came up to her and said: “Sister-in-law, carry me again.” She dared not refuse, and after they had gone a short distance the skull said: “Look among the trees until you find one where the raccoons have their nest. Then if you are hungry you shall have something to eat. Look for a certain tree, find the hollow place where the raccoon goes in to its nest and drop me in after it.” The woman did as she was told and she dropped the skull in. It somehow killed the raccoon. After it had got to the bottom of the tree it called: “Cut a hole in this tree and let me out.” The woman cut the hole; first she took the raccoon out from the tree, and then she took the skull out. She cooked the raccoon, then she took the stomach of the raccoon for a bag, and melted down the raccoon fat, put it in the stomach bag and sewed it up. She hid it from the skull; she had a purpose in doing this, and the skull did not know that she had done it, and she carried the bag with her. They stopped twice more during their journey; each time the woman did as the skull directed, and each time she made the bag and filled it and sewed it up, and the skull did not see her. The fourth time the woman hunted for a very large tree, and when she had found it she dropped the skull into the hole and then ran off by herself. The skull called: “I have killed the raccoon. Now let me out.” No answer. Then the skull knew the woman had left, and said: “Wherever you go I shall find you and have my revenge.” It commenced to gnaw a place in the tree to let itself out, and it took it a day and a half to make a hole large enough to get through. When it came out, it went along, saying: “Wherever you go I shall find you and have my revenge.” By and by the woman heard the skull saying that, and she took the bag of raccoon grease and threw it at the skull; it went all over it, and it could not go on, and while it stopped to clean itself the woman ran on ahead. But the skull caught up to her, and she heard it say: “Wherever you go I shall find you and have my revenge.” Then the woman stopped and threw another bag at the skull, and it had to stop and clean itself. The third time it caught up to her, and she threw another bag of grease at it. But the fourth time the woman went on till she came to a woods, but the skull could not reach the woods until the next morning for it had to cross a creek, and so it went back on the side of the hill and had to roll down and so cross the creek. The woman found an old man in the forest making bows and arrows, and she asked him to protect her from the skull, but he paid no attention.

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“Brother, help me! Protect me!” But he took no notice of her. “Uncle, protect me!” He paid no attention. “Father, protect me from the skull!” He did not notice. “Grandfather,” she called, “Help me! Protect me!” “That is the relationship,” he said. He was an immense man, and his long hair was done up in a big knot on the back of his head. He told her to untie it and get in there, so she did so. And he told her to sit there and wait until he was ready. After a while he went on making bows and arrows. Presently the skull came up and went round and round the old man, saying: “Old man give me my woman.” But the old man was silent. Then, said the skull: “Give me the woman I was running after.” But the old man would not answer. When the skull asked for the woman the fourth time, the old man said: “I am tired of you.” So he took a bow and broke the skull in pieces, and he said to the woman: “Get down and gather up these pieces. Pile them up, and set them on fire. After you set them on fire, whatever you see, don’t you touch it. You will be punished if you do.” When the woman saw the fire going down she espied a comb. She picked it up and hid it in her blanket, but it burned her side so badly that she died. The old man said: “I told you not to pick up anything, but you did so. I punish you. Disobedience brings its own punishment.”

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SECULAR TALES A PIONEER CROSSING THE MIDWEST Tradition Bearer: Ed Grantham Source: Hartman, George. “Interview of Ed Grantham.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

Date: 1938 Original Source: Nebraska National Origin: Scots-Irish American

The following oral history is composed of a series of personal experience narratives recalling the forces and personalities that dominated the Plains of the Midwest during the late nineteenth century. Two of the historical figures are well-known today: James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickock (1837–1876) and William Frederick “Buffalo Bill” Cody (1846–1917).

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e left our home, Talasha, Ohio, Aug. 4, 1866, on my 10th birthday. After paying farewell visits to both my father and mother’s kin we entrained for the west at Urbana, Ohio, the latter part of August.


My father was a veteran of the army of the Union side and was discharged at Fort McHenry, Maryland. During his stay at Fort McHenry the son of John [sic] Scott Key, writer of the “Star Spangled Banner,” was a political prisoner at Fort McHenry. As you know, the “Star Spangled Banner” was written on a British Frigate during a bombardment where Key was held a temporary prisoner until after the bombardment was over. My Grandfather served in war of 1812, wounded at battles, and crippled for the rest of his life receiving no pension from government. We made several stops one at Indianapolis, Indiana; Terre Haute, Indiana; and Springfield, Illinois. Father had a cousin at Springfield was a neighbor and friend of Abraham Lincoln. He took us to the Lincoln home and told us many stories of the early life of Lincoln. We boarded the Wabash train for Quincy, Illinois and crossed the Mississippi river at that point. Entrained on Hannibal St. Joe Railroad for St. Joseph, Missouri. There we boarded a steamboat named “City of Denver” landed two days later on the east bank of the Missouri River opposite Plattsmouth, Nebraska. The landing place was called “Betheham Landing.” There were wagons there to take us to Glenwood, Iowa, our destination. The party consisted of father, mother, five children, my aunt Mrs. Robertson and a Miss Cunningham, both teachers. Father came west to take care of a school started by the Methodist Church of Glenwood. The school was a financial failure and closed April 1, 1867. We crossed river at Plattsmouth to Nebraska about middle of April of that year, and settled in the then thriving village of Rock Bluff, now extinct. Rock Bluff was about seven miles down river from Plattsmouth. Was quite a shipping point for grain and hogs on the river. Nebraska had been admitted as a state. The railroad had not reached the Missouri River north of St. Joe. Missouri, hence our trip by boat from St. Joe. The Union Pacific began building out of Omaha the spring of 1867 and had to haul their first engine and a few [cars?] by ox teams from Atlantic, Iowa, to Council Bluffs some 40 miles away. The railroad contracted with the government for so many miles of road and a train of cars by early summer to hold the right to the government land grant, so ties, rails, and train had to be on time. The engine and cars were dismantled and reassembled at Omaha. The territorial capitol was Omaha and was moved to Lincoln the summer of 1867. Lincoln was a small hamlet named Lancaster on the site chosen by the capital commission. I visited Lincoln with my father and W. F. Chapin in August 18, 1867. There were just a few rude houses in Lincoln at that time. W. Chapin

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The Midwest | A Pioneer Crossing the Midwest

moved to Lincoln shortly afterwards and was land commissioner for the Federal Land office at Lincoln and afterwards was elected first mayor of Lincoln. We lived in Rock Bluff until the spring of 1869 when we moved to Saline County to homestead. Our home was 3/4 of a mile north of Swan City, at that time county seat of that county. From our first house there was neither a house nor a tree to be seen. The earlier settlers had all located on the streams to be near and acquire what timber there was. There were no trees on the high lands nor even on the bottom lands at any distance from the streams. Prairie fires swept the country, prevented the growth of trees on the great prairie, extending for hundreds of miles. We had everything burned on our place, excepting our dugout, stable and house in spring of 1870. A neighbor set fire on a tract of land he wished to break up and the high wind swept the fire down along his buildings and burned all of them except the house. He lost a horse, some 300 bushels of wheat, all of his corn and was burned himself so badly his life was despaired of for a time. Not able to work for months. Carried scars to his grave. Fires swept over our own homestead and burned our hay and field. In 1873–74, grasshoppers cleaned us out. 1873 they came in millions and destroyed all of the corn. We had 50 acres of corn just tasseling out. We left home to attend church about 10:30 a.m. and when we returned home about 1 p.m. there was nothing left but stubs about a foot high. They cleaned up everything but the small grain, prairie grass and sorghum that a few people had planted to make syrup. They would not touch the cane and grain that had been harvested and stacked. Red pepper and tobacco was their delight. An old Yankee neighbor had a tobacco patch that they cleaned out. The old gent was peeved about his tobacco and said that they added insult to injury by sitting on the poles of his corral and spitting tobacco juice in his face. After they had cleaned out the country they migrated but left millions of eggs that hatched out the next spring in time to destroy the wheat and oats but left after the small grain was gone. Then came another disaster, drought and hot winds came and burned up the corn. That left the homesteads in bad shape. No food, no money. Of course most of the pioneers were poor and came west to make their homes for themselves. Many were discouraged for ample reason. Most of them stuck it out, some too gritty to leave and some too poor. In the fall of 1874, I was 18 years of age, and I went with an old hunter by the name of Abe Cox out of the Solomon River country in western Kansas to lay in the supply of buffalo meat. On that trip I killed my first and only buffalo.

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Mr. Cox got several. We jerked and dried the wagon load of meat that carried us through the winter and had enough to help some of the neighbors, too. The dry hot winds of the plains cured that meat so hard that the pieces were nearly hard as a piece of stove wood and would keep indefinitely and was good “belly timber” as Abe Cox would term it. After we left the settlement some 40 miles west of home we did not see a human being until we got back some four weeks later. Plenty of Cheyenne Indians in western Kansas in those times, but we met none of them on our trip which no doubt was fortunate for us. Uncle Abe Cox was a bad man for Indians to fool with, but I was not anxious to meet any of the gentry. We lived, as I mention before, 3/4 of a mile north of Swan City at that time, county seat of Saline County. Saline County was in the west tier of organized counties and the law such as it was taken care of by U.S. marshals out in the unorganized country. In May, 1871 Wild Bill Hickock was Deputy U.S. Marshall and brought three prisoners to Swan City for trial. There was no court house, no jail and as the next term of court did not convene until the following October. Bill Hickok had to herd those prisoners around there until Court opened. The sheriff lived two miles west of town, but had no place to keep them, so it was up to Bill Hickock to “ride herd” on them which was an old cowboy expression. I got quite well acquainted with Wild Bill during the time he was there and found him a very quiet unassuming man but I should of hated to arouse the tiger in him without doubt. Those fellows he was “herding” were of the same mind as they were very lamb-like. He even borrowed shot-guns and took them (those prisoners) prairie chicken hunting. When they got to the hunting grounds he gave each a gun and started them out in front of him, he following so 30 to 50 feet behind them with those six-guns right under his hands. Those fellows shot just chickens and no breaks toward Bill. They knew better. I was along once, driving the wagon for them and they got plenty of game. I have seen Bill at target practice many times. I have thrown up bottles and empty cans for him to shoot at. He would not draw a gun until the target left my hand, then, in a flash he drew and fired, seldom missing, often shooting with both guns. Wild Bill afterwards went down to Kansas at Abilene. He was marshal of the town down there on the great cattle trails from Texas to the north. The law was so lax that the gamblers and wild cowboys made living almost impossible there for law-abiding citizens. Wild Bill was employed to come and tame the town and he did a good job of it. From there he drifted to Deadwood, South Dakota where he was shot and killed by McCall. This was due because it was

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The Midwest | General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana

the first time that Hickok ever was known to turn his back to the door. He was playing cards. McCall shot him in the back. I met Buffalo Bill in 1881, at North Platte, Nebraska. He lived on a ranch four miles west of town. Saw him often. I never was attracted to Buffalo Bill as I was to Wild Bill. Wild Bill was kind of a fellow that young children would follow around. Never heard Wild Bill swear around children and very seldom swear. He was a quiet fellow. I saw the “Plainsmen” movie and Gary Cooper played a good part. One thing that was wrong, though, was the way that they shot their pistols in the movie. In the movie, they made a “cross draw,” but in reality Wild Bill Hickok drew his gun straight up. Right hand gun from right side. Big Bill Staley was one of the early frontier characters of Saline County. Big Bill opened a saloon at Swan City. My father, being a Methodist preacher and Bill being quite friendly with him, invited my father to preach a sermon in the saloon before he opened up. My father accepted the invitation and used the bar as a pulpit. Just at the beginning of the services, some hoodlums thought they would break up the meeting. Bill walked behind the bar and got his six-shooters, walked to the door and told the fellows to “stop that racket” and come into the meeting and if they continued the racket there would be a funeral instead of a meeting. The hoodlums left and the meeting went on undisturbed. In traveling the highways laid by the government surveyors in long days ago, we find much jogging and angling in some of the woods due to the fact that a lot of surveyors were drunk when they were surveying. A good example of it is the roads around Beatrice, this is what the old settlers say, anyhow.

GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN’S RAID THROUGH SOUTHERN INDIANA Tradition Bearer: Middleton Robertson Source: Monroe, Grace. “Interview of Middleton Robertson.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Indiana

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National Origin: European American

From June 11 to July 26, 1863, Confederate Brigadier General John Hunt Morgan led an incursion of southern Cavalry into the Union states of Indiana and Ohio. The eyewitness accounts that follow attest to the power of war in the memories of a civilian populace. Although Morgan’s Raid, as it came to be called, was highly publicized, its historical significance ultimately was overshadowed by the Vicksburg and Gettysburg campaigns that were being waged at the same time. The two descriptions of the raid below are composed of a combination of local legends and personal experience narratives.

O

n the 11th day of July 1863, General John H. Morgan and his army passed through Graham township, Jefferson county, in his flight through southern Indiana, from Kentucky to Ohio. It is not the purpose of this article to point out his objectives in making this invasion. The historians have already done this as satisfactorily, perhaps, as can be done. General Morgan, not being a trained soldier, did not rank in ability with the best military leaders of the Southern Confederacy, but he was a courageous officer, and General Grant, in authority for the statement, said that in his military operations in Kentucky and Tennessee, Morgan killed, wounded, and captured several times the member under his command at any one time. At the time of the raid I was not at home in Graham township, which was less than a mile from the line of march of the enemy army, but was away temporarily visiting my uncle, Dr. N. D. Gaddy, at Weston, in Jennings county, and so did not see any of the rebels. Of course there were no telephones or radios in those days, but we kept fairly well advised as to what was going on outside of our community. Hearing of a movement among the citizens to assemble at Vernon and engage the enemy in battle, my uncle joined them. I see him now through the eyes of memory as he rode away that Sunday morning in company with some of his neighbors, his rifle on his shoulder and with enough bullets in his ammunition pouch that I had helped him mould, to send the souls of scores of rebels to purgatory. The day passed, but no sound of cannon came our way, leading us to believe there was no battle in progress. After hours of waiting for him, my uncle returned, not

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bearing on his person any marks of carnage or strife, but bringing the glad tidings that Morgan had gone without unleashing his guns in the destruction of life or property. Not years prior to his death, G. W. Whitsitt, who for a long period was well known in this part of the county by reason of his musical talent, informed me that he was in Vernon at that critical period of its history, and that a regiment of Union soldiers from Michigan were there, also a considerable number of citizen soldiers, and that he was present and over-heard a conversation between General Lee Wallace who was in command and the colonel of the Michigan regiment, in which the latter begged permission to lead an attack against the enemy, but the general was firm in his opposition alleging that in view of the superior strength of the fee, such a move would result in a useless waste of life. The most vivid remembrance I have of any experience in these troubulous times was of a happening a few days after Morgan had gone out of the state. Two men came along, riding fast and furiously past my uncle’s, pausing just long enough to tell us that the rebel general, Forrest, has destroyed Paris by fire and was coming our way, burning, burning, burning buildings and killing men. My uncle assigned me two tasks—one to assist in burying a box of silver coins amounting in value, I suspect, to several hundred dollars, any my other job was to walk over to the home of his father-in-law and give warning to the family of impending danger, the distance being about a mile and in part through a dark woodland. I was younger then than I am now, being in my 12th year and not overstocked with that admirable quality of the mind called courage. I discharged my trust, but not without realizing that the sense of fear had not been left out of my makeup. But the supreme peril was yet to come. It was not long until a body of armed men on horseback came into view. Surely, we thought, this must be Forrest and his army and the end of the world, but we were unduly alarmed, for when the men came close, and I don’t know why we did not run away, they told us they were not rebels, but for the Union, and it was they who were at Paris and that it was through the distorted imaginations of some parties who had seen them that had spread the rumors of disaster and death. An imaginary danger for the time being is as nerve racking as an actual one, for while one thinks he is in danger, to him it is real and palpable. Learning that we had been deceived, whether intentionally of otherwise, by the excited horsemen, the black cloud of fear lifted and passed away, and from that day to this I have never felt any danger imminent to myself or country from armed rebellion or foreign fee. About a fortnight after Morgan had come and gone I returned to my home in Graham township. The perspective was about the same, no marks of vandalism were observable except the loss of three good horses. There had

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been a forcible transfer of the title to ownership from the family to the Southern Confederacy. On the morning of July 11th my brother, Philander, had gone to a mill about three miles east of our house on land now owned by (Hiram?) Poster, in a twohorse wagon, where he had exchanged wheat for flour. The day was fair and no portents were in the sky or impending danger until on the return trip he reached a point in the road opposite Pisgah church, when suddenly about fifty men appeared in view and soon demanded that he get out of the wagon and unharness the horses. Being slow to obey, they persuaded him to hurry by pointing their guns in his direction. They took the horses, and they were good ones, and made him walk in front of them to the creek, about half a mile north of the church, where they bade him go home. Before he reached home the marauders had visited the premises and taken from the stable a fine young black mare, the idol of the family. My oldest sister, Nancy, though habitually of a mild and equable temper, became so angry when she saw her pet mare being taken away, that she told those sons of Dixie that she thought them abusive, but she did not accomplish more than if instead she had given them her blessing—the benison of good will, for they took her beautiful mare away and she never saw her more. This was one of the great sorrows of her life. My home was not the only one visited by the troopers. Almost all the good horses near the line of march had been taken. There was one marked exception. James Dowy Robertson, better known in this vicinity as “Uncle ([Doc?])” lost only one horse and saved four. His eldest son, Melville, was home on his summer vacation from college and happened to look toward the south and saw a large body of horsemen in a high point in the road where John Stewart now lives, heading in the direction of his home, acting with quick presence of mind, he went to the barn and rushed off four good horses to a thicket in the back part of the farm and tied them near together so they did not get lonesome and whiny. All four horses escaped capture. Returning to the house he found home rebels ransacking it. Uncle Doc had recently became the owner of a new pair of fine boots and one rebel, evidently having some sense of humor, picked up the boots and said: “This fellow has some good boots and I believe I will trade with him,” and so he did. By reason of some offensive remark, Melville was compelled to go with the rebels as far as Dupont, where he was released. Later he joined the Union army, was captured in his first battle, east into a rebel prison and there contracted typhoid fever which ended his life—another sacrifice in the cause of human liberty. Uncle Aquilla Robertson, better known as “Uncle Quill,” and a brother to Uncle Doc, was less fortunate than his brother in saving his horses, as all three

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of his were taken. His youngest daughter Mrs. Rebecca McClelland of Deputy, remembers well the leading events of the Morgan raid. This is her story: I lived with my father, less than half a mile of the road over which Morgan and his army passed. We could see the cavalry and artillery as they passed along the road. We first saw that they were nearly all day passing from about 8:30 in the forenoon. The most exciting scene in the drama was when a bunch of rebels come into the yard, clamoring for something to eat, one insistent fellow attempting to go into the kitchen in spite of a refusal of my stepmother to admit him, and so she flourished a butcher knife in his face saying: “I’ll let you know I am one of the blue hen’s chickens from the state of Virginia and if you make any other attempt to enter here I’ll cut your heart out.” Eyeing her intently for an instant, the rebel said, “I know them Virginians will fight like the devil and I have no doubt you mean what you say.” He then went away and left her, for the time being, mistress of the situation. Next morning July 12th at about 6:30, while we were at family devotions, my father leading in prayer, several armed men in federal uniform entered, disregarding the usual civilities on entering a home, and in a rough and overbearing manner demanded something to eat. Being Union soldiers, we were glad to feed them. Father ended his prayer rather abruptly, as any other good man would have done under the circumstances. Regarding the number of men in each army, my impression is that according to the estimates of the people at that time that there were somewhere between four and five thousand men in each army. This chronicle would not be complete without some reference to another prayer, but made on the day of the raid. There then lived in this township a local preacher, Reuben Rice by name. He was an ardent Methodist and a militant abolitionist. These facts together with his heavy artillery voice when in prayer made him a distinctive citizen in the community. It was currently reported and generally believed that some rebels called upon him and under threat of death commanded him to get down on his knees and pray for Jeff Davis and the success of the Southern government, which being under duress he did so, but “prayer being the soul’s sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed,” it was really no prayer, but more lip service. It accomplished no good. Rice lived for years and scores of years after John Morgan and the Southern Confederacy were dead as an Egyptian mummy, and all through these years prayer was a part of his daily program. Maybe the rebels felt that their government needed praying for. It was certainly in a bad way at the time. Evidence was multiplying fast that the Lord was “trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,” for one week before this time Lee and his splendid army were defeated at Gettysburg, and hurled back across the Maryland border, and Grant, after long, patient and

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laborous effort, had captured Vicksburg. Surely the clock had struck the hour marking the beginning of the end of the Southern Confederacy. Dr. C. H. McCaslin, now of Kansas City, Mo., was at the time of the Morgan raid a boy of about my age, but much larger and braver. He lived on what is now the E. J. Wolf farm, the dwelling house being within 100 ft. of the road over which the armies of Morgan and Hobson passed. From a recent letter I rec’d from him, he had this to say about the Morgan raid: “When John Morgan’s raid through Jefferson county occurred, I was plowing corn. I looked up the road and saw a company of soldiers on horseback. I supposed it was the home guard going to Washington, Indiana, where the company at Parid, Ind., had been ordered. Morgan had telegraphed Governor [Oliver P.] Morton that he was going that way. My brother was at home on a furlow and he went with the Paris home guard. The rebels were all day passing our home, and I wish to state that my mother was sick in bed and I sent to the spring for water. An officer approached and asked if I wanted water. I told him my mother was sick and wanted a drink and he ordered his soldiers to stand back and let me fill my bucket. They had several carriages which in those days were known as rockaways. Whether General Morgan was riding in one of them or not, I cannot say. They took all of the horses within the radius of two or three miles on each side of the road. They told us there would be a larger army the next day and that they would burn houses and barns, but General Hobson and Shackelford of the Union army followed them. There was an incident on the day of the raid that gave a touch of comedy to the tragic side of the picture. An aunt of mine whom I shall call “Aunt Julia,” who evinced considerable excitement when she learned that Morgan was near, lived in a large house well stored with valuable goods and furnishings. Wishing to salvage something of great worth from the coming destruction, in her confusion she selected a mirror and hastily took it to the garden and buried it. This seems ludicrous in view of the fact that she made no effort to save things more valuable, but perhaps there was method in her madness, for, after all, what is there about a home which a woman prizes more than a looking glass? If the searchlight of truth were applied to all the facts connected with the Morgan raid, it would awaken a memory not complimentary to the national government. Morgan’s men, about as fast as they captured and appropriated good horses, discarded those they did not care to use longer, and quite a number of these horses were taken over by farmers and were fed, groomed and taken care of until they were fit for farm work. My brother appropriated two of these horses and just as he in common with his neighbors felt that they had some amends for their losses, the national government sent agents around and

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The Midwest | General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana II: Ripley County

through might, not right, took possession of these horses without any compensation to the farmers whatever. This was not only flagrantly unjust, but it was obviously unwise. Here was a government in a great war and needing provisions to feed the armies and navies and were depending in part on these very farmers to supply the sinews of war in food stuffs and at the same time taking from them the means and the vehicles of production needful to help the cause along. Later a concerted effort was made to induce congress to appropriate money to reimburse the farmers for their losses sustained by reason of the stated, but these claims were never allowed. For more than three score years and ten the body of John Morgan has slept in the dust of the earth, but the government he sought to destroy still lives at Washington and the flag he dishonored and tried to cast aside still waves in undiminished splendor “o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.”

GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN’S RAID THROUGH SOUTHERN INDIANA II: RIPLEY COUNTY Tradition Bearer: Minnie Wycloff Source: McHenry, Lawrence. “Interview of Minnie Wycloff.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938–1939 Original Source: Indiana National Origin: European American

The following account offers a different perspective than the preceding narrative (“General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana,” p. 247) on Morgan’s Raid.

M

organ and his raiders entered Ripley from Jennings County on Sunday, July 13, 1863. Their first stop was at Rexville in Shelby township, where a general store was looted.

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From Rexville they marched to Versailles where they were met at the new courthouse by a hurriedly summoned band of the militia and citizens. The raiders seized the guns belonging to the militia and broke them against the corner of the courthouse, which at that time was not completed. The Deputy County Treasurer, B. F. Spencer, had buried the county funds for safety from the raiders. The treasurer’s office was looted and it is reported that several thousand dollars was taken by the raiders. Private citizens having funds or valuable jewelry and silverware hid them in a safe place. Many housewives hung their jewelry in the bean vines and other secret hiding places. Horses were hidden as well as possible in advance of the raiders, as they constantly seize fresh horses, leaving worn out nags, occasionally, in their stead. Housewives were ordered to prepare meals for the marauding cavalry and feed was appropriated for their animals, all available supplies were used or carried away. The detachment, to be known forever in American history as Morgan’s Raiders, did not march in a compact body but followed a general course in scattered units, the central force of about three thousand men, containing the leaders—John Morgan and his two lieutenants. Many interesting stories have been told of their behavior while in this county. One of these was that Morgan’s army stopped at a farm house and were sleeping on the porch. The well at the farm house had been dipped dry for the raiders and their horses. One of them asked a small boy at the farm to dip him a drink of water for which he would give the boy some marbles. The water was given for which he received a bountiful supply of marbles. Many years later while he was in Louisville, Ky. on business he met the same donor of the marbles and their acquaintance was renewed only in a different manner. Morgan and his army passed through and had burned the bridge over Laughry Creek and Greasy Run. This article of the Morgan’s raid is taken from John Robert’s clippings of the daily newspaper and is as follows: “Morgan forced the father of John Roberts to help roll the cars to the center of the bridges, after they had taken him prisoner. He said that Colonel Basil Duke gave orders to burn all railroad property and to take what property from the citizens they needed for the army but not to destroy private property. He said to Mr. Roberts, “Old man if you could only see our country, down south, how we have been driven from our homes and our houses burned you might feel yourself lucky to have fallen into more generous hands than those of the Yankees.”

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Mr. Roberts replied, that, “I believe you are telling the truth, as I have two boys in the Union army, and if things are damaged as badly in the south as they write home it must be terrible.” The Colonel said, ‘We have not come here to destroy private property but to show you boys that you are on the wrong side. We are here to give you people a chance to help toward a good cause. We are very much in need of good horses. Our horses were good but are worn out with rapid marching.” Basil Duke wrote a detailed account of the raid from his personal experiences and the official records of the expedition, giving facts, figures, lists of officers and men and a continuous narrative of the route and incidents of the famous raid. It accomplished nothing of importance for the South. Morgan had expected the Knights of the Golden Circle in southern Indiana to join him as Confederates and thus increase his force to a strength that would aid him in capturing Indianapolis. In this expectation he was entirely disappointed. Put to the test the “Butternuts” or the “Copperheads” failed to rally to his support. Instead his men were scattered, captured, and lost by various mishaps every day of the hurried route of the fleeing raiders through Indiana and Ohio. From Versailles the raiders moved on. Stragglers spread throughout the entire county, looking for horses, food and valuables. One group went to Napoleon via Osgood, from there to New Point in Decatur County. Then back into Ripley County into Batesville where they pitched camp for the night. Batesville citizens of 1863, still remaining in the community, recall the five or six dusty and frayed looking Confederate soldiers who rode into Hunterville on the Newpoint road and ordered dinner at the tavern there. While waiting for the meal to be prepared they observed another group of buildings farther east along the C. C .C. & St. L. Railroad and learning this was a larger town known as Batesville, cancelled their order for dinner and rode on in hopes of getting better fare. Perhaps they were not disappointed. There were five tall buildings among lower ones in Batesville at that time. One was the newly built Boehringer Hall, three stories above a basement floor. Blue and white pigeons sat in flocks on its roof. The hungry men in tattered gray uniforms shot a number of the birds and feasted a little later at the expense of Mr. Boehringer and Mr. J. Thomas, whose boarding house stood near the ambitious Boehringer Hall apartment, office and boarding house combined. General Lew Wallace was encamped near Surman, north and west in the locality of (Newtown?). He had been ordered to Surman, just a railroad station and a few houses at that time, to intercept Morgan’s advance toward Indianapolis. He was camped there for several days, arriving in Ripley County

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in advance of Morgan’s raiders. There must have been a few Knights of the Golden Circle who kept their vows of loyalty to the Southern Confederacy in spite of failure to enlist in the invading army. Else Gen. Wallace should have been able to have captured the fleeing Southern leader at his brief night camp three miles south of Sunman. Five or six miles separated the camps, but Morgan was away across in Dearborn County by New (Alsace?) and Harrison into Ohio before the Union leader learned of his proximity. The pursuing Union troops under Lieut. Edward Hobson rode hard after the raiders the following day July 13, 1863, but the first Morgan and his equally dashing lieutenants Duke and Dick Morgan had already reached the Ohio River beyond Cincinnati. The raiders threw away smoked hams, looted from a meat curing plant at Dupont, a bird cage or two, bolts of cloth carried from the store, a little country-general store at Rexville; tin [ware?], coffee-grinders, all kinds of kitchen utensils, dry goods and small groceries were strewn along the route of the raiders as they galloped and galloped on their way. Morgan the raider and Morgan’s terrible men are characterized in the poem “Kentucky Belle”; the author of this poem overlooked the long ride through Indiana before the raiders “swept into Ohio’s cornfields, the deep green shoulderhigh July cornfields.” Yet the longer part of this famous raid led across Crawford, Clark, Jennings, Jefferson, Ripley and Dearborn Counties in Indiana. Pages of incidents of the brief ride of Morgan’s men and their brief rest in Ripley County could be told and written from the stories of eye-witnesses and participants among Ripley County citizens. A few Ripley County men were taken along with the raiders as “guides” to the next point desirable to reach toward Cincinnati, as the dash toward Indianapolis collapsed into flight. These men were accused by their neighbors of being members of the “ButternutCopperhead” organizations, whether justly in any case was never proven. The routed Home Guards and citizens at Versailles and in other counties avoided bloodshed by their inability to oppose the marauders. The leaders of the raid were gallant Southern gentlemen at heart and brothers across the river of the people through whose states they led their line of march. Southern Indiana was settled by men from Kentucky and Virginia more largely than from any other source. Back of Kentucky’s settlement they came from Pennsylvania, Maryland and the Carolinas into the blue-grass country of Daniel Boone. Blood Brothers of one race and one country, they recognized each other when face to face. At Versailles Col. Morgan demanded the funds from the safe of the county treasurer. The treasury was in the charge of Deputy B. F. Spencer, who had safely buried the county funds hours before Morgan arrived. He opened the safe and

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gave the rebel leader the cash, $5000. A number of purses also lay in the safe. “What are those?” inquired the raider. “They are purses of money placed here by several widowed ladies for safekeeping,” the gallant Spencer, of Kentucky blood, himself answered the Confederate leader. “Well, keep them safe. I never robbed a widow yet,” was Morgan’s farewell word as he ordered his men to remount and to ride, out of Versailles to the north and east via Pierceville and Old Milan to the halting-place near the DearbornRipley County lines between Clinton and the railroad beyond which lay Gen. Wallace’s camp of Union soldiers. They fed from beef taken from Sunman farms and adjoining neighbors. A few hours of galloping, a few hours of rest and sentries on the alert and Morgan had come and gone across Ripley County; across southeastern Indiana, into Ohio, into the past, into history. A day’s march only, leaving the years only to piece together the local accounts of his raid as an addition to lieutenant Basil Duke’s graphic and authentic record from the raider’s own viewpoint. Wm. H. O’Brien has written a pamphlet on Dearborn County’s part in this story. The Historical Society has placed along the route commemorative markers. At Rexville, Versailles, on the Milan road at the Hassmer home, just north of Versailles; at Pierceville, Old Milan at Governor Harding Home, and at St. Paul’s Church south of Sunman, the Ripley County markers show that “Colonel John Morgan passed here on July 12, 1863.” Other markers are needed to tell the story of this incident to the posterity. Col. John Morgan’s famous raid into southern Indiana in July 1863 was planned as a parallel to Gen. Robert E. Lee’s dash into Pennsylvania at the same period. One of the dates of world history, as well as Civil War history is the Gettysburg battle date, July 1, 2, and 3, of 1863. Lincoln’s Gettysburg address, given a few months later at the dedication of the battlefield as a national cemetery, has immortalized the major offensive of the Confederate armies in an effort to move the war by these invasions, into northern territory. Morgan’s raid is more famous in local historical records than in national ones as it was of little importance and was considered by many a mere skirmish for the glory of its leaders. The six thousand men of Morgan’s Cavalry command crossed the Ohio River into Indiana near Mauckport and circumscribed a curve across southeastern Indiana and southwestern Ohio that was more of a route rather than a raid. Morgan was followed by the Union Lieutenant Colonel Edward Hobson with a detachment of infantry. About a twenty-four advance was held by the Confederates for most of the route until the main body of the troops was captured, a remnant only escaping back across the Ohio River. The raiders carried a few pieces of artillery which were

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never used. They robbed farms, stores and dwellings of food supplies for men and horses, cash and in some cases anything that could by carried away. Bird-cages, clocks, tin-ware, bolts of cloth and such property, entirely useless to the raiders was included in their loot and finally thrown away along the line of march as the raiders were hourly pushed into a hurried, disordered riot of escape from the pursuing union soldier. Only a few civilians were fired upon by the raiders.

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THE MID-ATLANTIC

Introduction

T

he Mid-Atlantic region, as defined by The Greenwood Library of American Folktales, encompasses the modern states of Delaware, Maryland, New Jersey, and Virginia. One factor that gives the Mid-Atlantic its unique qualities is the fact that there is a “North-South” split among the states. Unlike the Northeast (in which all states entered the Civil War on the Union side) and the Midwest (which, with the exeption of “Bloody Kansas” [see p. 149] and Morgan’s incursion into Indiana, avoided the conflict entirely), slavery was legal in the Mid-Atlantic states of Delaware, Maryland (which did not officially secede), and Virginia, but New Jersey remained allied to the Union. This loyalty made New Jersey a refuge for African Americans who sought to escape bondage, and that fact figures prominently in the narrative “Grandfather’s Escape to Free Haven” (p. 272). The topography of the region includes seacoasts, flat level plains, and mountains. Virginia alone, in fact, contains tidal plains, mountain ranges (Blue Ridge, Alleghany, and Appalachian), the Shenandoah Valley, and the Appalachian Plateau. Temperatures in the Mid-Atlantic region vary from the subtropical along the southern coasts to snow in the mountain ranges. Although heavily agricultural from the seventeenth into the nineteenth centuries, industrialization and urbanization have steadily increased, particularly in New Jersey and in the Philadelphia and Washington DC areas. The folktales of the Mid-Atlantic region bear the traces of three powerful cultural influences. These ethnic tradtitions arise from the English founders of the major Mid-Atlantic colonies, the descendants of African Americans who were brought into the region as slaves during the plantation period, and the


Germans who immigrated to the Americas during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (see “Northeast: Introduction,” p. 3). Before turning to these three traditions, however, the relative paucity of Native American influence merits discussion. Prior to the European settlement of the Mid-Atlantic region, the area accomodated a significant Native American population. They cultivated corn, squash, and other domesticated plant foods and supplemented these resources by hunting and gathering. Many of these cultures were virtually eradicated by the European push to gain footholds in the colonies and by epidemic disease to which the native peoples had no immunity. Surviving groups (for example, the Cherokee and the Tuscarora) moved to the west. Surviving groups moved to the west across the mountains or to the north to avoid destruction. Some Native Americans married into the African American or European American communities, thus losing all but symbolic tribal identity. There are traces of this heritage in the present collection, however. Regarding “Rabbit Escapes from the Pea Patch” (p. 298), a common tale in African American repertoires that was collected in Virginia, folklorist Elsie Clews Parsons notes a resemblance to a Cherokee narrative. At the time of English settlement in Virginia, the Cherokee were one of the major Native American groups inhabiting the territory. If Parsons is correct, their influence on the African American body of narrative persisted into the twentieth century. A second narrative from the same county in Virginia, “Rabbit Seeks Meat” (p. 303), is a composite of European, African American, and Native American tale types and motifs. The English founders of Jamestown in the colony of Virginia in 1607 have made obvious contributions to the traditional narratives of the Mid-Atlantic both through the tales transmitted through their own descendants and through the borrowings and subsequent adaptations of the European repertoires by African American tradition bearers. “Jack and the Bean-Pole” (p. 275), for example, is a modernized, localized African American variant from Maryland of the well-known European ordinary folktale “Jack and the Beanstalk” (AT328). Two other folktales—“Tablecloth, Donkey, and Club” (AT563) (p. 279, also from Maryland) and “Magic Flight” (AT314) (p. 278, from Virginia)—are additional examples of the same process of culture contact resulting in shared cultural artifacts. Turning to traditions within the English-descended community, the local legend “The British Are Coming” (p. 282) suggests the ways in which the effects of the Revolutionary War extended even to remote corners of states that were not primary battlefronts. “The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge” (p. 324) and “Mark Flaherty” (p. 344) provide additional New World folktales from those who settled in the Mid-Atlantic from the British Isles.

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The Mid-Atlantic | Introduction

Historically, African Americans comprised approximately half the population of Virginia. This was the group upon whose forced labor the vast tobacco, cotton, and hemp plantations depended. Likewise, both Delaware and Maryland were states where human bondage was legal until after the Civil War. Slaves brought not only their labor into bondage but a vast repertoire of traditional lore that was preserved within the folktale corpus of the Mid-Atlantic. Many of the narratives are variants of the animal tales of Rabbit, Bear, Fox, Wolf, and others discussed in Volume II: The South and the Caribbean. Representative examples are “Playing Dead Twice in the Road” (p. 285), “How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse” (p. 290), and “Rabbit, Fox, and the Tarbaby” (p. 295). Others concentrate on many of the same figures of the supernatural world who appeared in the South, for example, “Out of Her Skin” (Vol. I, p. 334), “The Snake-Wife” (Vol. I, p. 336), and “The Doe with a Ring” (Vol. I, p. 337). To avoid unnecessary repetition, the reader is referred to the lengthy discussion of these tale types included in the Introduction to Volume II and to the cross-references for individual tales. Another set of tales comparable to those collected in the South are what have been called John and Master tales—humorous narratives that depict the interactions between a clever slave and his often less-than-clever master. In the MidAtlantic, “The Single Ball” (p. 318) is a variant of “Lies Too Far Apart” (Vol. II, p. 126). Unlike the Southern John and Master tale, however, the slave in the tale collected in Virginia does not rebuke his master for lying. “Getting Rid of the Overseer” (p. 294) provides a more satisfying conclusion for the African American trickster, who uses his wits to frame perhaps the primary symbol of the oppressiveness of the plantation system on a daily level—the Overseer. In the more contemporary narratives of African Americans in confrontation with the plantation and later the Jim Crow system, “To Torment Already” (p. 360) and “Rank” (p. 361), the white “system” is represented by the military. A harsher version of the John and Master relationship appears in another Virginia narrative, “Going to Heaven” (p. 358). In this joke, the protagonist never turns the tables on his master’s sacrilegious and sadistic practical joke. Unfortunately, this latter case may better reflect life under the plantation system. A final class of tales in the African American repertoire of this region focuses on an “Irishman” who is usually portrayed as a numskull figure. (See, for example, “Moon Cheese: Two Irishmen at the Well,” on p. 312.) Parsons contends that this cycle of ethnic jokes was first brought to the attention of folklorists by Emma Bacon’s research in Virginia. Finally, as noted in the “Introduction” to the Northeastern region, as early as the seventeenth- century German speaking immigrants came to Pennsylvania

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as well as other colonies in the Americas from southwest Germany, Alsace, and Switzerland. Additional German arrivals and the descendants of the earlier arrivals spread out into western and northern Maryland as well as the Shenandoah Valley and northwestern mountains of Virginia. The descendants of these early immigrants developed a distinctive and tenacious culture in the areas in which they settled. One of the more distinctive elements is the practice of traditional magical-religious healing called pow-wowing by most outsiders or brauche in the communities in which it is practiced. Diseases recognized by academic medicine are treated by brauchers; two of the diseases mentioned in the personal experience narrative entitled “Cures of a Maryland Witch” (p. 330) are Botts, an ailment in horses caused by the larvae of the botfly, and Erysipelas, a skin infection generally caused by the genus of bacteria called Streptococcus. The majority of the narratives in this collection, however, are devoted to the supernatural beliefs that are a part of the group’s heritage. The folktales of the Mid-Atlantic region attest to the cultural and historical continuities between the Northeastern and Southern regions of the United States; nevertheless, these tales retain their own distinctive character.

SUGGESTED READINGS Barden, Thomas E., ed. Virginia Folk Legends. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1991. Bierhorst, John, ed. White Deer and Other Stories Told by the Lenape. New York: W. Morrow, 1995. Carey, George. Maryland Folklore. Centreville, MD: Tidewater Publishers, 1989. Halpert, Herbert. Folktales and Legends from the New Jersey Pines: A Collection and a Study. Bloomington: Indiana University, 1947. McMahon, William H. Pine Barrens Legends, Lore, and Lies. Wilmington, DE: Middle Atlantic Press, 1980.

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ORIGINS

JACK-O’-MY-LANTERN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Newell, William Wells. “The Ignus Fatuus, Its Character and Legendary Origin.” Journal of American Folklore 17 (1904): 39–41. Date: 1904 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

Ignis Fatuous (literally, “foolish fire”) has been identified as foxfire, swamp gas, will-o-the-wisp, the spirits of the dead, and, in the legend below, as “Jack-O’-My-Lantern.” William Wells Newell, citing W. Wirt Sikes, describes the hideous swamp “goblin” as being preternaturally strong and swift though no taller than five feet, covered with hair, and able to leap long distances. Other commentators differ on the apparition’s exact attributes, but in all cases the Jack-O’-My-Lantern is associated with the Devil and seems to be out to harm any mortal crossing its path. In this narrative, he even surpasses the Devil himself in deceit and guile. See the original version of this legend in the Appendix.


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nce there was a man name Jack. He was a mighty wicked man, an’ treat he wife an’ children like a dog. He did n’ do nothin’ but drink from morning til night, an’ it wasn’t no use to say nothin’ at all to ’im ’cause he was just as ambitious as a mad dog. Well sir, he drink an’ he drink til whiskey couldn’t make him drunk; but at last it burn him up inside; an’ then the Devil come for him. When Jack see the Devil, he was so scared he couldn’t do anymore than drop in the floor. Then he beg the Devil to let him off just a little while, but the Devil say, “Naw Jack, I ain’t goin’ wait no longer; my wife, Abbie Sheens, is expecting you.” So the Devil start off pretty brisk’ an’ Jack was obliged to follow, till they come to a grog shop. “Mr. Devil,” said Jack, “don’ you’ wan’ a drink?” “Well,” said the Devil, “I believe I does, but I ain’t got no small change; we don’t keep no change down there.” “Tell you what you do, Mr. Devil,” said Jack. “I got one ten cent in my pocket; you change yourself into another ten cent, an’ we can get two drinks, an’ then you can change yourself back again.” So the Devil change hisself into a ten cent, an’ Jack pick him up, but instead of going in the grog shop, Jack clap the ten cent in he pocket-book that he hadn’t took out of he pocket before, ’cause he didn’t want the Devil to see that the clasp was in the shape of a cross. He shut it tight, an’ there he had the Devil, an’ it wasn’t no use for him to struggle, ’cause he couldn’t get by that cross. Well sir, first he swear and threaten Jack with what he was goin’ to do to him, an’ then he begun to beg, but Jack just turn round an’ start to go home. Then the Devil say, “Jack, if you’ll lemme out o’ here, I’ll let you’ off for a whole year, I will, for truth. Lemme go Jack, ’cause Abbie Sheens is too lazy to put the brush on the fire, an’ it’ll all go out if I ain’t there for’ long, to tend to it.” Then Jack say to hisself, “I have a great mind to let ’im go, ’cause in a whole year I kin repent and get religion an’ get shed of him that there way.” Then he say, “Mr. Devil, I’ll let you out if you declare for gracious you won’t come after me for twelve month.” Then the Devil promise before Jack undo the clasp, an’ by the time Jack got he pocket-book open he was gone. Then Jack say to hisself, “Well, now I goin’ to repent an’ get religion sure; but it ain’t no use bein’ in no hurry; the last’ six month will be plenty o’ time. Where that ten cent? Here ’tis. I going get me a drink.” When the six month was gone, Jack allowed one month would be time enough to repent, and when the last month come, Jack say he going have one more spree, an’ then he would have a week or ten days left an’ that was plenty o’ time, ’cause he done heard o’ folks repenting on their death bed. Then he

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went on a spree for’ sure, an’ when the last’ week come, Jack had the delirium tremblin’s, an’ the first thing he knowed there was the Devil at the door, an’ Jack had to get out of he bed and go ’long with him. After a while there pass a tree full o’ great big red apples. “Don’ you’ wan’ some apples, Mr. Devil?” said Jack. “You can get some if you want them,” said the Devil, an’ he stop an’ look up in the tree. “How you expect a man with delirium tremblin’s to climb a tree?” said Jack. “You catch hold the bough, an’ I’ll push you up in the crotch, an’ then you’ kin get all you’ wants.” So Jack push ’im in the crotch, an’ the Devil begin to feel the apples to get a ripe one. While he was doin’ that, Jack whip he knife out of he pocket, an’ cut a cross in the bark of the tree, just unther the Devil, an’ the Devil holler, “Tzip! Something nurr but me then. What are you doin’ down there, Jack? I goin’ cut you’ heart out.” But he couldn’t get down while that cross was there, an’ Jack just sat down on the grass, an’ watch ’im raging an’ swearing an’ cussing. Jack kept him there all night tell ’twas close to day, an’ then the Devil change he tune, an’ he say, “Jack, lemme get down here an’ I’ll give you another year.” “Give me nothin’!” said Jack, an’ stretch hisself out on the grass. After a while, ’bout sun up, the Devil say, “Jack, cut dis thing off here an’ lemme get down, an’ I’11 give you ten year.” “Naw siree,” said Jack, “I won’ let you get down less you declare for gracious that you won’t never come after me no more.” When the Devil find Jack was hard as a rock, he agreed, an’ declared for gracious that he wouldn’t never come for Jack again, an’ Jack cut the cross off the tree, and the Devil left without a word. After that Jack never thought no more about repenting, ’cause he wasn’t afraid of the Devil, an’ he didn’t want to go where there wasn’t no whiskey. Then he live until he body wore out, an’ he was obliged to die. First he went to the gate o’ heaven, but the angel just shake he head. Then he went’ to the gate o’ Hell, but when word come that Jack was there, the Devil holler to the imps. “Shut the do’ an’ don’ let that man come in here; he done treat me scandalous. Tell ’im to go ’long back where he come from.” Then Jack say, “How I goin’ find my way back in the dark? Give me a lantern.” Then the Devil take a chunk out of the fire, an’ say, “Here, take this, and don’t you never come back here no mo’.” Then Jack take the chunk o’ fire an’ start back, but when he come to a marsh, he done got lost, an’ he ain’t never find he way out since.

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HOW THE JAYS SAVED THEIR SOULS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Showers, Susan. “Two Negro Stories Concerning the Jay.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 74. Date: 1898 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

In this animal fable, the blue jays attempt to outsmart the Devil. Unable to accomplish this, they must turn to raw force. Within this short tale are the opposite extremes of the African American folk hero: the trickster and the badman.

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n every Friday, it is said, the blue jay goes to hell to carry sand to burn other people’s souls with. One day, as he got ready to start on his journey, he thought how much he loved to see souls jump and burn. One day, as the jay went down to hell, the Devil said to him, “You and I must make an agreement in some way, so that you will get pay for your work.” “All right,” said the jay, and the Devil told him that if he would bring sand to burn the people with, he would not bother the jay’s family if ever they had a chance to come to hell. The jay thought he could act sharp with the Devil, so he came back home, and told every other jay to carry water, so they could put out the fire when the Devil got one of them. So then every Friday the jays started to hell with water and sand, but it was not very long before the Devil caught up with the jays. The next Friday they went, and before they reached hell they met the Devil’s two sons. The two boys went back with them, and carried them all into the house, and asked them what they were bringing the water for. The old jays said, “For us to drink while we sit and see the souls burn.” The Devil fastened the door and caught them all, and cut off their wings. They all cried, “Jay! Jay! Jay! Jay!” but the Devil said, “The next souls on hand to burn are the jays.” When the Devil had finished cutting their wings, he told them to come on and go out and see souls burn. They were all weeping and shaking hands with

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The Mid-Atlantic | Trouble (Rabbit Loses His Tail)

each other, and the old jay told them that when the Devil tried to catch them, they must all fly up and scratch him in the face. They tried it, and put the Devil’s eyes out, and then started back home. They said, “We never want to go to hell again, for the Devil is just as delighted to burn jays’ souls as those of any other birds.” Now, on every Friday the jays go off and have a picnic, and do not go to hell.

TROUBLE (RABBIT LOSES HIS TAIL) Tradition Bearer: Ella Anderson Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 272. Date: ca. 19?? Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The plot of this tale apparently arises from Brer Turkey’s taking offense at Brer Rabbit’s pointing out Turkey’s red eyes. Turning the tables on the trickster, Turkey lures Rabbit into trouble by a play on words.

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he turkey and the rabbit were once going through an old field, and the rabbit asked the turkey what made his eyes so red. Brer Turkey told him it was trouble. Then Brer Rabbit asked him what trouble was. Brer Turkey said, “Come with me into the field, and I will show you trouble.” Brer Turkey made believe he was after water, but he was only setting the field a-fire in different places. By and by Brer Rabbit heard the fire begin to roar. “Brer Turkey! Brer Turkey!” he cried, “how are you going to get out of this field?” Brer Turkey said he was going to fly out. “Take me with you, Brer Turkey!” said the rabbit. But Brer Turkey said he could hardly get himself out.

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Brer Rabbit ran through the fire, and that is how he lost his tail. The fire caught it and burned it off. And Brer Rabbit has never had a tail since.

WHY FROG LIVES IN THE WATER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 266–67. Date: ca. 1900? Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Exploiting the trust of a romantic rival is a common motif in the animal tales of the Mid-Atlantic and Southern regions. Compare terrapin’s way of dealing with frog to Rabbit’s in “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse” (Vol. II, p. 56).

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nce there was a frog and a terrapin who were going to see the same girl. The girl said that she would have the one that could sing the most beautiful song. Then the frog began to sing, “Cluck u-lu-lu, cluck u-lu-lu!” The terrapin was frightened because the frog sang such a beautiful song, and he tried to sing too; but he could only say, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem!” The girl said that the frog’s song was the best. Then the terrapin said, “Come, let us go down to the creek and get a drink, and we will try again.” The frog agreed, and they started for the creek. The frog got there first, and sat down on the bank to wait; and while he waited, he began to sing. Soon the terrapin came up softly behind the frog and pushed him into the water, and spoiled his song. Then the girl said she would have the terrapin. The frog grieved so, that he never came out on the land to live any more.

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The Mid-Atlantic | How the Moors Came to be in Delaware

HOW THE MOORS CAME TO BE IN DELAWARE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Taylor, Helen Louise, and Rebecca Wolcott. “Items from New Castle, Delaware.” Journal of American Folklore 51 (1938): 93–94. Date: 1938 Original Source: Delaware National Origin: Unavailable

Legends are often employed to fill in gaps in the folk group’s knowledge. Those things in a local environment that are physically or socially distinctive are likely to be the subject of “folk speculation.” When such speculation addresses the needs of the group (that is, when it adequately fills in the gaps), it passes into the traditional repertoire of the region. The following tale exemplifies the process.

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n the southern part of Delaware, mostly in Sussex County, there is a group of people about 6,000 in number whom their neighbors call the Moors. They have dusky skins, straight dark hair, and very dark eyes. They intermarry with the Nanticoke Indians and will not associate with the negroes, nor will the white people associate with them. The Moors are employed as servants or as tenants on farms. The report that they are of Italian or Portuguese origin is denied. Several different conjectures are current as to their origin. According to H. M. M. a shipload of slaves was wrecked off the Delaware capes. The survivors intermarried with the Indians and the “Moors” are descended from these people. L. R. R. of New Castle says that in the seventeenth century a vessel was shipwrecked off the Delaware capes, several of whose passengers, all of them Africans and among them a young African prince, reached shore safely and there found an isolated white woman living in a clearing tilling the land. The young prince married her and their offspring are the Moors. Mrs. W. believes that the lone survivor of a late-seventeenth-century shipwreck was a red-headed Irish-man. He came ashore and found the only inhabitants of lower Delaware to be Indians. He married an Indian maiden and the Moors trace their descent from these two. Occasionally one of the Moors is red-headed, and a

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red-headed Indian used to crop out among the Nanticokes. The people were called Moors because the Irishman supposedly had Spanish blood, since the Spanish Armada was wrecked a century before on the coast of Ireland.

GRANDFATHER’S ESCAPE TO FREE HAVEN Tradition Bearer: Mary Thomas Source: Hubert, Levi C. “Interview of Mary Thomas.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: New Jersey National Origin: African American

In this segment of her family saga, Mary Thomas provides precise details dating back a century at the time of the telling. Although various historical elements may be lost or altered during the process of oral transmission, narratives such as the following fill in crucial gaps in our historical knowledge. It is a useful exercise to compare this detailed narrative told within the folk group to the preceding legend “How the Moors Came to Be in Delaware,” which was transmitted by outsiders.

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s a child I remember hearing the old folks telling me of their terrible life which they led on the large farms of Maryland before the Emancipation.

My grandfather had been a chieftain’s son [in Africa], and he remembered the time when he was a little fellow, playing with some other boys on the banks of the sea, and a band of men swooped down on them and carried them from their own people. My grandfather remembered the heavy gold bracelets and armlets of his rank and those slave-stealers took the gold ornaments from him. My grandfather had a black mark about an inch wide running down his forehead to the tip of his nose. This mark was the sign of his tribe. He was tall

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The Mid-Atlantic | Grandfather’s Escape to Free Haven

and very much respected by the other slaves and the slave-holder down in Maryland. He married, raised a family and grew old. Even in his old age he was a valuable piece of property, but soon he became useless in the fields and his master agreed to give him his freedom. But the old man, my grandfather, asked for the freedom of his youngest son, who was my father. This the master refused to do at first but at the earnest insistence of my grandfather, he agreed … upon condition that the son, who was a great swimmer and diver, should dive into the Chesapeake Bay where a ship had sunk years before with a load of iron. If the son were successful in bringing to the surface this load of iron, then my grandfather and his son, my father, should go free. My grandfather tied a rope around my father’s waist and for over three months the two of them brought the pieces of iron to the shore for old master. They say that sometimes the son stayed under the water so long that my grandfather had to drag him up from the wreck and lay him on the ground and work over him like you’d work over a drowned person. Day after day the two worked hard and finally there wasn’t no more iron down there and they told the master so and he came down to the wreck and found out they was telling the truth, but still he wouldn’t let them go. The old man, yes, but not the son who was handy around the place, an’ everything. But my grandfather kept asking for his son and the old master said that if the two of them brought up the sound timbers of the old wreck, then he would keep his word and let them go. So my grandfather and his son, my father, between them brought up all the sound timber that was part of the wreck. It was cheaper to get this wood and iron from the wreck than to buy it, so the master wanted it. The wreck had stayed down on the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay for over twenty years but nobody except my father had been able to dive that deep. So you see it was just like trading off some of the young slaves on the farm to be able to get the iron and wood. When the two finished that chore, and it was a mighty big chore, too, they went up to the big house and asked for their freedom. The master sent them back to their cabin and said that since the old man wasn’t no good any more, and it just cost the master money to feed him, he could go whenever he pleased, but the son was going to stay on the farm and if he tried any foolishness, he would sell him south. Selling a slave south meant that the slave would be taken to one of the slave trader’s jails and put on the block and be sold to some plantation way down south. And no worser thing could happen. Many a family was separated like that, mothers from their children, fathers from their children, wives from their husbands, and the old folks say that a pretty girl fetched (brought) a higher price and didn’t have to work in

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the fields. These young girls, with no one to protect them, were used by their masters and bore children for them. These white masters were the ones who didn’t respect our women and all the mixing up today in the south is the result of this power the law gave over our women. Well, when the old man and his son knew it was no use, that their master did not intend to let them go, they began to plot an escape. They knew of the Underground Railroad, they knew that if they could get to Baltimore, they would meet friends who would see them to Philadelphia and there the Friends (Quakers) would either let them settle there or send them to other people who would get them safely over the border into Canada. Well, one night my grandfather and my father made up their minds and my grandfather could read and write so he wrote hisself out a pass. Any slave who went off the farm had to have a pass signed by the master or he would be picked up by a sheriff and put in jail and be whipped. So my grandfather had this pass and got safely through to Baltimore. There they hid for several days and waited for an agent of the Underground Railroad. One night they were dressed in some calico homespun like a woman and rode to Philadelphia on the back seat of a wagon loaded with fish. In Philadelphia, the town was being searched by slave-holders looking for runaway slaves, so the people where they were supposed to stay in Philadelphia hurried them across the river about ten miles. My grandfather and my father stayed across the Delaware from Philadelphia, helping a farmer harvest his crops, and they built a cabin and soon other escaped slaves from among their former neighbors slipped into New Jersey where they were. Finally there was almost a hundred escaped slaves in the one spot and because they were free at last and this place was a haven just like the Bible talked about, they decided to stay there and so they got together and called the place Free Haven. My uncle says that he reached there by hiding in the woods all day and walking at night. So many people came from Maryland that they changed the name of the little village to Snow Hill, which was the name of the town nearest the farms from which all or most of the people had run away from. The post office people made them change the name again and now it is Lawnside, but I was born there sixty-four years ago and I still think of it as Free Haven.

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JACK AND THE BEAN-POLE Tradition Bearer: Mary Smith Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 212–13. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

This ordinary folktale is an African American variant of the wellknown European tale “Jack and the Beanstalk” (AT328). The narrative shows localization and modernization by disguising Jack as a newsboy during one of his visits to the giant’s castle; locating the castle on a hilltop rather than in the sky; and substituting a bean-pole for a beanstalk. Jack, in this version, is shown to be reclaiming family property rather than stealing from the giant.


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ack an’ his mother lived together, an’ they had planted some beans. And it seemed that one bean had strayed off from the rest, an’ it grew up right alongside of the house. Their house was right below a hill, and Jack had always wondered what was on top of the hill. So one day Jack climbed a bean-pole to get up to the top of the hill. So, when he had got to the top, he saw a palace, an’ he went to this place to see who lived there. So, when he had got there, he found it was a giant’s castle, but the giant wasn’t at home. But his wife was. Jack was tired and hungry. So he asked the lady to take him in and give him something to eat. So she did so. But she told him not to let her husband catch him there. So, while Jack was eating, the giant came to the door. She told Jack to hide, an’ Jack hid in the chest behind the door. So the giant came in. He said, “Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishmun.” He said, “Be he alive or be he dead, Fe, fi, fo, fum!” But his wife told him that he didn’t, that it was only some mutton that she was cooking. So the giant sat down to eat his supper; and after he had finished eating, he called to his wife, and told her to bring him the wonder-box, which he was supposed to have taken from Jack’s father before Jack’s father died. So, while the giant was sitting there looking in the box, he fell asleep. An’ Jack slipped out of the chest behind the door, an’ took the wonder-box home to his mother. So it wasn’t very long till Jack made up his mind to make another trip back to the castle of the giant. So, when Jack went back this time, he tried to put on like another poor little boy that was half starved. So he begged entrance at the door of the castle from the wife. And she didn’t want to have him in, and she told him about the boy that had took the wonder-box from her husband. So he begged so hard that she left him in, an’ she gave him some bread and milk to eat. And again, while Jack was eating, the giant came. And as he came in the door, he said,

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The Mid-Atlantic | Jack and the Bean-Pole

“Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishmun.” He said, “Be he alive or be he dead, Fe, fi, fo, fum!” And Jack jumped in the salt-cellar. His wife said, “No, there hasn’t been any one here today.” She says, “I’m only roastin’ some pork for your supper.” So, after he ate his supper, the giant sent for his golden hen that lay the golden egg. So his wife went and brought it for him. And while the giant was playing with the egg that the hen had laid, he fell fast asleep. An’ Jack carried off the hen and the egg down the bean-stalk to where his mother lived. But Jack still thought that he wanted to visit the castle again. So this time, when he went up the bean-stalk to the giant’s castle, he was in the appearance of a newsboy selling papers. So, while the wife went to get the money to buy a paper, the giant appeared, and Jack hid in the closet. And the giant repeated again, “Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishmun.” He said, “Be he alive or be he dead, Fe, fi, fo, fum!” So the wife said, “No, there hasn’t been any one here today.” And after the giant had ate his supper, he called for his harp, the only thing that he had left, an’ this was a magic harp. So it commenced to play, an’ it played so sweetly that the giant fell fast asleep and commenced to snore. And as the harp stopped playing, Jack came out of the closet, took the harp, and started to the door. But the harp began to play, and it woke the giant up. An’ the giant followed Jack out of the door, an’ Jack run as fast as he could down the bean-stalk, an’ the giant started to follow. But as the giant reached the top, Jack cut down the bean-stalk with an axe; an’ as the giant stepped on, he fell down an’ broke his neck.

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An’ Jack and his mother always lived happy afterward with the property of the father which the giant had stolen an’ Jack had restored again.

MAGIC FLIGHT Tradition Bearer: Lucy Morris Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 280–81. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The following narrative is a variant of the magical flight theme. This brief ordinary folktale focuses primarily on the “Obstacle Flight” (AT314), in which ordinary objects magically transform themselves into obstacles to delay pursuit.

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as a little girl named Katie; and an old woman lived in a house by herself, and everybody believed she was a witch. As Katie was passin’ by, the old woman opened the door and told her to come in, and the little girl went in and saw a beautiful room with lots of pretty pictures; and the old woman said she would give her some apples to eat. And after she finished eating the apples, the old woman told her to stay with her all the time. An’ then Katie remembered that her mother sent her on an errand to get something for supper. She told the old woman that she would stay, but she had to get something for her mother for supper, else she wouldn’ have anything. An’ the witch told her she could have anything she wanted; and she took a wand and hit the table, an’ in Katie’s mother’s house there came lots of good things, and she was wonderin’ where they came from. And Katie ’greed to stay with the witch for a week. An’ at the end of the week she had a dream. She dreamed that an elf came and told her that the witch was goin’ to kill her. The next night she dreamed the same thing. The elf

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The Mid-Atlantic | Tablecloth, Donkey, and Club

left her a comb and a handkerchief, and told her to drop them when the witch came after her. She jumped out the window in the middle of the night; and as she was almos’ nearin’ home, she looked behind and saw the witch comin’ after her. So she dropped her comb, an’ a fores’ grew up; and it took the witch a long time to get through. Then, after she got through, Katie dropped her handkerchief, and a river came. An’ the witch had to cross the river. As she was almos’ home, she came to a woods where a wood-cutter was cuttin’ down some trees. The woodcutter saw the witch, so he cut off her haid. He took Katie home. And her mother told her what came of children that disobeyed.

TABLECLOTH, DONKEY, AND CLUB Tradition Bearer: Helen Seeny Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 210–12. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

This African American variant of “The Table, the Ass, and the Stick” (AT563) contains the classic motifs of the Old World versions of this ordinary folktale. The final beating at the end is a touch of poetic justice.

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nce upon a time there lived a woman an’ a boy in a house together, Jack an’ his mother. An’ Jack’s father was dead. So Jack’s mother planted some barley. An’ she told Jack to get the barley. Jack was lazy, an’ he didn’t want to gather it. So one day she whipped him with a broomstick, an’ made him go to gather it. An’ Jack made up his mind then that he would go an’ gather the barley. So when he went to gather the barley, the wind had blown it away. There was an oak-tree standin’ in the field where the barley had been, so Jack picked up a club an’ commenced to beat on the tree.

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So there came along a little old man while Jack was beatin’ on the tree. An’ he said to Jack, “Jack, my son, what are you doin’?” An’ he said, “I’m beatin’ the wind for blowing my barley away.” So the little man reached in his pocket, an’ he took out something that looked to be a handkerchief to Jack. An’ instead of being a handkerchief, it was a tablecloth. An’ so the old man said, “Spread, tablecloth, spread!” An’ so it spread, and there was a lot of all different kinds of food on it. So the of man said to Jack, “Take this home, an’ it will pay your mother for the barley.” But instead of going home, Jack went to a half-way house to play, an’ he staid there all night. An’ he said to the people when he went to bed, “Do not tell this tablecloth to spread.” But as soon as he was in bed, they told the tablecloth to spread. So in place of Jack’s tablecloth they put their own, an’ kept Jack’s. So the next mornin’ Jack got up overjoyed, an’ took the tablecloth an’ ran home. So he says to his mother, “Mother, I have something to pay for all your good barley, even though the wind has blown it away.” He says, “just tell this table-cloth to spread.” An’ they told the tablecloth to spread, an’, instead of spreading, it lay still. So his mother whipped him an’ sent him out again. And he went down the field an’ beat the same oak-tree. And the little old man came along again, an’ he said, “Jack, my son, what are you doing today?” So he says, “Didn’t the tablecloth repay your mother for the barley?” An’ Jack said, “No, when I told it to spread, it lay still on the table.” So by this time there came a donkey up. So the little old man he said, “Tell this donkey to shake.” An’ Jack told the donkey to shake. An’ he shook a pack of gold out of one foot, and a pack of silver out of the other. But, instead of going home this night, he went back to the halfway house again; but he cautioned them to be sure not to tell the donkey to shake. But it wasn’t long before he had gone to bed but they went to the stable and told the donkey to shake. And when they found out that he shook a pack of gold out of one foot, an’ a pack of silver out of the other, they put their donkey in place of his. So the next mornin’ he got up an’ rode the donkey home to his mother; an’ he said to her, “Now, this time, mother, I really have got something that will pay you for your barley.” He says, “Let’s tell this donkey to shake.” But the donkey stood still. So the old lady beat him an’ sent him away again. So this time, while he was beatin’ on the tree, the little old man came along again. So he says, “Jack, my son, what are you doin’ this mornin’?” Jack says, “I’m still beatin’ the wind for blowing my barley away.” So this time the little old man gave Jack a club. An’ he told Jack whatever he wanted the club to beat, to tell it, “Beat, club, beat!”

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So Jack went to the half-way house again with the club. So he said to de people before he went to bed, “Be sure and don’t tell this club to beat.” So Jack went up-stairs, but he didn’t go to bed this time; an’ wasn’t long till he heard the old man say, “Beat, club, beat!” an’ the club commenced to beat on the man. And the old man stood it as long as he could, an’ the woman told it to beat her. So they couldn’t stand it no longer, so they called for Jack. When Jack came down, he asked them what was the matter. And the man said he had told the club to beat, an’ it beat on him. So Jack says, “Give me my donkey an’ tablecloth, and I’ll stop the club from beatin’.” So, to keep from gettin’ beat any more, they give Jack his donkey and tablecloth. So Jack took the donkey an’ the tablecloth an’ the club, all three, home to his mother. So Jack says, “Mother, I am quite sure this time I have more than enough to pay you for all the barley you have planted.” So he says, “Tell this tablecloth to spread.” So he says, “Tell this donkey to shake.” An’ then he says, “Tell this club to beat.” An’ it beat her. And he says, “That’s the way it felt when you beat me.” So, after it beat her a while, he told it to stop. An’ after the club had stopped beatin’, they lived happy together always after, by the use of the tablecloth, club, an’ donkey.

ABOVE GROUND AND BELOW GROUND Tradition Bearer: Loneva Willoughby Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 277–78. Date: ca. 1900? Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

As usual Rabbit turns the tables on Fox in this variant of AT1030, “The Crop Division,” proving once again that in African American tradition, he is the better trickster.

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nce a rabbit and a fox undertook to work a farm together. They made an agreement that the rabbit was to have all that grew above the ground, and the fox all that grew below the ground. The first year they planted peas. When the peas were ripe, the rabbit had them all. Buh Fox was angry at this, and said the rabbit cheated him Buh Rabbit said, “Don’t let’s quarrel! I will tell you how to settle this fuss. Next year you shall have all that grows above the ground, and I will have what grows below.” So it was agreed. The next year they planted potatoes; and again they had trouble, for Buh Rabbit got all the crop. He kept on that way until he starved the fox to death. Then he had all the crop, and all the land too. Buh Rabbit sure is sharp.

THE BRITISH ARE COMING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Taylor, Helen Louise, and Rebecca Wolcott. “Items from New Castle, Delaware.” Journal of American Folklore 51 (1938): 93. Date: 1938 Original Source: Delaware National Origin: European American

These two related local legends serve the primary function of accounting for notable features in the region’s landscape. Moreover, the second legend places a local in the position of a trickster who acquires the labor of foreign mercenaries by exploiting their cowardice.

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n the middle of the Delaware River a little below New Castle is a small island called Pea Patch Island. The story is that it was formed long ago when a schooner dumped over a cargo of peas, which sprouted and grew finally to form the island. * * *

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or the whole distance along the Brandywine Creek between Smith’s Bridge and Thomson’s Bridge there is a wide, dry raceway. Tradition has it that at the time of the Revolutionary War a canny Quaker who lived nearby wished to open up a flour mill. In order to dig the raceway he hired some Hessians who had deserted the British ranks just about the time of the Battle of Brandywine. When the raceway was within about three feet of completion, the Quaker hurried toward the workers shouting, “The British are coming!” Of course the Hessians dropped their spades and fled and the raceway cost the Quaker nothing. Since there has never been a flour mill at that spot, the story is mere folklore, perhaps based on the Uncle Remus tales of Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, in which the rabbit always manages to outwit the fox in the same sort of way that the Quaker outwitted the Hessians.

DOES A COW HAVE PIGS? Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 358–59. Date: 1919 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The following tale is unusual in that Rabbit and Wolf work together for a common cause. In most African American tales featuring these two characters, Wolf plays the fool to Rabbit’s trickster; see, for example, “Brer Rabbit Dines on Brer Wolf” (p. 301).

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rer Bar an’ Brer Wolf lived together on a fa’m. Brer Bar had a cow, an’ Brer Wolf had a sow. One mornin’ Brer Bar an’ Brer Wolf went out to the barn, and the sow came up with ten pigs. Brer Bar said ’twas his pigs his cow had. Brer Wolf said his sow had dem pigs. So dey couldn’ agree. Dey said dey’d take it to court. Brer Bar says he get Brer Frawg fur his lawyer, kase he was wise. Brer Wolf

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says ’11 get Brer Rabbit, though he’s a mighty triflin’ man. So dey to meet de nex’ day in de ba’n-yard t’ree o’clock, Brer ’Possum an’ Sis ’Possum, Brer Coon an’ Sis Coon, an’ Brer Bull-Frawg an’ all de critturs ’round. Brer Buzzard said he’d come, kase he may have to clean up some of dem dead, kase he know dey goin’ to kill somebudy. Nex’ day everybudy come a-skippin’ an’ a-hoppin’. Brer Frawg wus dar sittin’ up on de jedge stan’, waitin’ fur Brer Rabbit. Brer Rabbit ain’t tu’n up yet. ’Bout four o’clock dey all say, “Well, I guess we’ll give Brer Bar de pigs, kase Brer Rabbit ain’t here to argy his case.” All at once dey heard a voice up de road, an’ dey see de dus’ jus’ a-flyin’. Brer Rabbit jus’ kickin’ up San’ a-runnin’. Den all at once he come a-rushin’ into de court-house, a-puffin’ an’ a-pantin’, all out of breaf. “Ladies an’ gents, Ise sor’ to be late. Ise mean to gitshhere on time, but I had to see ’bout a bery important business to my faders.” Brer Frawg he ’lowed, “Your fader! Whoever heard talk ’bout you havin’ a fader?” Brer Rabbit he hollowed, “Ladies and gents! How many ever heard of a cow havin’ pigs?”—“No! No!” cried de crowd. “Well, de sow an’ pigs are yourn.” An’ he won de case. Den dey give a party for Brer Rabbit, an’ Miss Meadows an’ all de gals were dar. Brer Rabbit was in love with one of de Miss Meadows. Brer Nophy (Wolf) got his fiddle an’ played dis tune: Brer Rab-bit put on Brer Rab-bit’s hat, Brer Rab-bit took his coat an’ spats, Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, gal! Pop eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja-ane! Met Brer Rab-bit on de way, I ask him where he gwine, I yank your stars an’ I bless my soul, I hunt fo’ de musca-dine’ Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, gal! Pop eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja–ane! Jaw-bone walk-a, jaw-bone talk, jaw-bone ca-ter wid a knife an’ fork. Hang my jaw-bone on de fence, I hab’n seen noth-in’ of my jaw-bone sence. Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, gal! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja-ane!

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PLAYING DEAD TWICE IN THE ROAD

The trickster tale of “Playing Dead Twice in the Road” provides a clear example of the dynamic process in folklore that produces variants of the same tale plot when the tale is told by different performers. The three variants all come from the same area, and each narrative follows the same basic plot outline. In each, a rabbit is trickster rabbit. However, the variation occurs with the choice of three different dupes for the three versions of the same tale.

Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 267–69. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

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nce a rabbit and wolf went out one day to catch some fish. The wolf caught all the fish, and the rabbit didn’t catch any.

So the rabbit said to himself, “I am going home to my wife.” Then he said to the wolf, “Brer Wolf, you have caught all the fish, and I have not caught any; and tomorrow morning your wife will be eating fish, and mine will be quarreling.” “I don’t care,” said Brer Wolf. “Please give me some fish for my wife!” “I’ll not, Brer Rabbit.” Then Brer Rabbit said to himself, “Never mind! I will go and lie in the road where Brer Wolf has got to come along.” Brer Rabbit went and laid in the middle of the road. The wolf came along with his basket of fish. The old rabbit pretended to be dead.

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Brer Wolf kicked him over, and said, “Ha! Here is an old dead rabbit,” and passed on. The rabbit went under the hill and got in the road again, and lay in the road as if he was dead. The old wolf came on and kicked him over, and said, “Ha! Here is another dead rabbit,” and passed on. Brer Rabbit went around him and got into the road again. When Brer Wolf came along to this dead rabbit, he set his basket of fish down, and went back to get the first rabbit; and then the rabbit got his basket of fish.

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 267–69. Date: ca. 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

A

rabbit once said to a fox, “Let us go fishing!” “All right!” said the fox. The fox took the basket and went in the boat; while the rabbit sat upon the hill and played the violin, which she said would make the fish bite. When she saw that the fox had his basket full of fish, she ran down the path some distance, feigning to be dead. When the fox came along and saw her, he wondered, but passed on. After the fox had passed some way, the rabbit jumped up and ran through the bushes, heading the fox, and lay down in the road as before. And the rabbit did this way the third time; and when the fox found the third dead rabbit, he said that he would go back and count them. He put his fish down by this last dead rabbit, and went back to count; but when he returned, he had found no dead rabbits and his fish were gone; for, when he turned his back, the rabbit got up and took the basket of fish away.

Variant C Tradition Bearer: W. O. Clayton Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 267–69. Date: 1903

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Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

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ear St. Louis there lived a bear who loved to go a-fishing. Once he fished all day in the Mississippi River. A cunning little hare thought of a trick to play Bear to rob him of his nice string of fish. He ran around in front of the bear, and lay down across his path as if he was dead. The bear kicked him, and, seeing he was stiff, jumped over him. The hare got up and ran around the bear, and lay down across his path again. “There lays another old dead hare,” said the bear. The hare jumped up and ran around a third time, and lay down across the bear’s path. “What a nice meal I should have if I had those two which are left behind!” said the bear. He laid down his fish and went back to get them. He could not find them, and when he hurried back to get his fish, there was no trace of them, nor of the hare which he had left with the fish.

PLAYING GODFATHER Tradition Bearer: Ruth Holmes Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 215–16. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The following is one of the more popular American trickster tales: “Theft of Butter (Honey) by Playing Godfather” (AT15). Variants of AT15 are found elsewhere in this collection (see “Playing Godfather,” p. 287).

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nce there was a family of bears. They lived in a little hut in the woods. One day father Bear went to town and bought a large tub of butter. On his way home he met b’o’ Wolf. The wolf says to b’o’ Bear, “What have you got there?” He says, “Some butter for my family.”

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The wolf says to b’o’ Bear, “How long do you think that butter’s going to last you?” He said, “It will last over winter.” So they all went out to work in the field. B’o’ Wolf say, “Listen! I hear my wife callin’ me.” So he left the field an’ snuk around back of b’o’ Bear’s house. He went in an’ ate the top off b’o’ Bear’s butter. Then he went back to the field an’ said to b’o’ Bear, “I had a little niece born today;” and b’o’ Bear said, “What did you name it?” He said, “I named it Top-Off.” So the next day they was out in the field again, and he said to b’o’ Bear, “Listen! Don’t you hear my wife callin’ me again?” B’o’ Bear said, “No, I don’t hear no one callin’ you.” He said, “Well, I do. I mus’ go.” So he goes back to b’o’ Bear’s house, an’ eats half of the butter. So he comes back again, an’ says, “I had another niece born.” An’ b’o’ Bear says, “What did you name her this time?” He said, “Oh, I named her Half-Gone.” He said, “Half-Gone, that’s a peculiar name!” So the third day he went back an’ finished it. So b’o’ Wolf said to b’o’ Bear, “This was the last one she’s goin’ to have. Because it was the last one, I named it All-Gone.” So the corn and potatoes was ripe in b’o’ Bear’s field, an’ he was goin’ to have a big supper. So they had a big time, Mis’ Bear an’ b’o’ Bear fixin’ for the supper. So they went to look for the butter, an’ it was gone. So b’o’ Bear he didn’t know what to make of that. So he said to b’o’ Fox, “Some-body takin’ my butter, an’ I’m goin’ to give a party, an’ after the party I’m goin’ to have everybody sit in a row in the sun, an’ the one that had taken the butter it will show on their mouth.” An’ b’o’ Fox said, “I don’t blame yer, b’o’ Bear.” So b’o’ Bear gave a big party, an’ he invited all his friends. He told them how he missed his butter. They all agreed with his plans. So, after the party was over, they all sat in a circle in the sun, an’ the grease was all runnin’ down brer Fox’s mouth, an’ all their eyes were turned to b’o’ Fox. So b’o’ Bear said to b’o’ Fox, “I’ll let you off this time, but next time I’ll hang yer.” So the party ended, an’ they all went on their way.

POSSUM AND WEASEL HAVE A FALLING OUT Tradition Bearer: Gladys Stewart Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 254–55.

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Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The particulars of this extremely popular American folktale (“Playing the Godfather”) vary across regions, between ethnic groups, and over time. The themes, however—greed, deception, and a warning against placing too much trust in one’s fellows—remain constant.

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ne day Bro’ ’Possum gathered a large kettle of peas and put them in a kettle to cook. In the meantime he ask’ Sister Weasel to come over and help him work in the garden and have dinner with him. Sister Weasel came, and, as she couldn’t leave her three little babies home, she brought them along, too. Bro’ ’Possum had told Sister Weasel abou’ the peas he had on cooking; and the whole time she was working, she was thinking of how she could get into the house to eat them befo’ Bro’ ’Possum did. At last the thought came to her mind that she would tell Bro’ ’Possum to let her go into the house to name one of her babies. When she thought the peas were done, she said, “Bro’ ’Possum, got to go in de house to name one ob my babies. Won’t be gone long.” “All right, Sis’ Weasel! Don’t stay long!” Sister Weasel went into the house, and found the peas nice and done. So she ate the top off and ran back to work. “What did you name your baby, Sister Weasel?” asked Bro’ ’Possum. “TopOff,” answered Sister Weasel, working all the time. In a few minutes Sister Weasel felt hungry again; and she said to Bro’ ’Possum,”Bro’ ’Possum, I got go in and name my second baby.” “All right, Sister Weasel! But don’t stay long!” said Bro’ ’Possum. Sister Weasel went in this time and ate half of the peas. This time, when she came out, Bro’ ’Possum asked, “Well, Sister Weasel, what did you name this one?” “Half-Gone,” said Sister Weasel, and away she went chopping in the garden. Pretty soon she felt hungry again; for, once she had tasted those peas, she couldn’t stop until she had eaten them. So she said, “Bro’ ’Possum, let me go in now and name my last baby, and I won’t bother you anymore.” Bro’ ’Possum gave his consent. This time Sister Weasel cleaned the kettle, and came running out agin.

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“What did you name this baby, Sister Weasel?” asked Bro’ ’Possum. “All-Gone,” said Sister Weasel, and went hard at her work. Pretty soon Bro’ ’Possum noticed that Sister Weasel was getting sluggish on the job, and he thought that she was hungry. So he said, “Come, Sister Weasel, let’s eat the kettle of peas, and we will feel more like working.” “All right!” said Sister Weasel. When Bro’ ’Possum went into the house and found that the peas had gone, he became very angry, and told Sister Weasel that she had eaten all his peas. “Now, Bro’ ’Possum, I haven’t eaten your peas,” said Sister Weasel. “You have eaten my peas, Sister Weasel, and I am going to eat you for my dinner.” When Sister Weasel heard this, she became frightened, for well she knew that Bro’ ’Possum would eat her up with little trouble. But what was she to do? Bro’ ’Possum’s garden, which he loved dearly, was a long ways from the house, but one with a keen eye could see all over the garden. Sister Weasel knew that Bro’ ’Possum could not do this, on account of his poor sight. So she said, “O Bro’ ’Possum! just look how the Wren children are stealing your crop!” At this Bro’ ’Possum forgot all about his peas, an’ ran down to his garden. In the meantime Sister Weasel grabbed her babies and ran as fast as she could to the woods and hid. After she got herself hidden, she laughed to herself of how she had fooled Bro’ ’Possum.

HOW MR. HARE PROVED THAT MR. FOX WAS HIS RIDING HORSE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bullock, Mrs. Walter R. “The Collection of Maryland Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 7–16. Date: 1898 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

This widely distributed tale (AT72) in which a trickster figure humiliates a romantic rival typically ends with two drastically different episodes. In one type, such as “On Horseback” (Vol. II, p. 61) in the Cajun tradition and “Mr.

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Deer’s My Riding Horse” in the African American corpus (Vol. II, p. 56), the tale ends with the humiliation of the trickster’s rival. In the other type, such as the Creek’s “Rabbit Rides Wolf” (Vol. II, p. 58) and the following tale, “How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse,” the conclusion is much more sinister, with a final trick ending in violent death.

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here was two girls, an’ Mr. Fox an’ Mr. Hare was a-courtin’ them, they was their two escorts; an’ every time Mr. Hare ’d go to see de girls, an’ Mr. Fox wasn’t there, dey’d keep askin’ him, “Whare’s Mr. Fox?” an’ tellin’ him ’bout Mr. Fox dat, Mr. Fox says dis, en Mr. Fox says dat. So Mr. Hare kinder crossed his lags, an said, “Yo’s all keeps a talkin’ ’bout Mr. Fox. Mr. Fox is my ridin’-hoss in wet weather,” an’ de girls didn’t believe him. So w’en Mr. Fox comes de nex’ day, deys tole ’im ’bout it, an’ what Mr. Hare’d done said; so he goes back to Mr. Hare an’ gets after ’im ’bout it. An’ Mr. Hare said he didn’t say so, de girls was a makin’ fun of ’im, en said to Mr. Hare, “Come, let’s go down dere tomorrow en prove it to dem.” So Mr. Fox says all right, en when de nex’ mornin’ come, Mr. Hare tole Mr. Fox that ’e was sick en could’n walk dere. So den Mr. Fox said ’e tote ’im; an’ Mr. Hare said all right, but ’e must have a saddle fer to holed himse’f on by. So Mr. Fox sed he’d get all of dem things den, but ’e had to get off when dey was near there, and Mr. Hare said all right. En whilst Mr. Fox was a-gettin’ them other things, Mr. Hare was secretin’ a pair of spurs ’bout ’is person, an’ when Mr. Fox come he gets on, an’ ’way dey goes. Directly Mr. Fox says, “What yo’ doin’, Brer Hare?” “I just is fixin’ my foot in de stirrup, Brer Fox.” Presen’ly Mr. Fox says, “W’at’s yo’ doin’, Brer Hare?” “Nothin’ but turnin’ my pant leg down,” and all de time he was a puttin’ on de spurs. Presen’ly de got near to de house, an’ Mr. Fox says, “Get down,” an’ Mr. Hare says, “Oh, please take me a little bit farther. I’s so monstrus weak I can’t get along.” So Mr. Fox went on til he got nearly to de house, den Mr. Fox said, “Now get down,” and wit’ dat Mr. Hare, he slapped dem spurs into ’im, an’ came plump down on him wit’ dat switch, en made Mr. Fox go a flyin’ down de road, right pass de girls door; an’ Mr. Hare holler out, “See, ladies; I done tole you dat Mr. Fox was my ridin’-hoss,” en de girls laugh til dey pretty nigh cried, en Mr. Hare he jumped right off at de door, an’ Mr. Fox was so insulted, en mighty cut up like, dat he jus’ kept right on down de road to de wood, en waited til Mr. Hare come ’long.

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En after Mr. Hare sit en talk wid de girls, he went on down de road; he knewed what’s comin’, en Mr. Fox comes out en grabs Mr. Hare, en says he’s goin’ to kill ’im. Mr. Hare says, “Oh, please don’t kill me now, Brer Fox, en I’ll show yo’ where’s some honey.” Den Mr. Fox t’inks he’ll find out where’s de honey first. So Mr. Hare takes ’im to de bee tree, en tells ’im to put his head in de hollow en he’p hisse’f; and whilst Mr. Fox was a tryin’ to eat de honey, de bee stung ’im so, til ’is head done commenced to swell, so dat he couldn’t get it out of de hollow, so ’e den tole Mr. Hare to please to go after de Doctor. An’ Mr. Hare wen’ off down to de creek an rolled an skipped an jumped, an rolled an skipped an jumped, an rolled an skipped an jumped; an den come back an tole Mr. Fox dat de Doctor said dat he couldn’t come, an said de Docto’ said, “Where han’s can’t go, de head’s got no business.” Den Mr. Fox commenced to beg Mr. Hare to please go back after de Doctor, en Mr. Hare said, “I hears a pack o’ hounds.” So den Mr. Fox jerk ’is head outer de hollow en t’row’is head all up, an dat was de last of ’im, en Mr. Hare didn’t admit to no murder either.

DOG AND DOG-HEAD Tradition Bearer: La Patten Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 269–70. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The first irony of this tale is the episode in which Rabbit accuses Frog of eating jointly owned rice, which is reminiscent of Rabbit’s tricks in the “Playing Godfather” tales. The final irony—Frog’s deceiving Rabbit, the master trickster—gives the story an unusual twist. The trips to London to buy and sell goods suggest the influence of European tales. In her compilation of Jamaican trickster tales, Martha Warren Beckwith notes that, while the story is “told everywhere in Jamaica,” she was able to find no African variants (1924: 243). This and the fact that it is much less

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common in the American South in the early twentieth century leads to the conclusion that this is a fairly modern tale.

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he rabbit and the frog were partners, and they were living on the same plantation. They had raised some rice, and were going to London with it: so they sacked it up and got ready to start. The rabbit could travel faster than the frog, so he would stop once in a while to wait for the frog. “Ber Frog, can’ you come no faster den dat?” said Ber Rabbit. “You jus’ go on, Ber Rabbit, I be dar,” said the frog. “Yes, I know you will when you eat up all the rice,” said Ber Rabbit. The rabbit thought that the frog was eating the rice because the frog panted under his throat, and the rabbit thought he was chewing. “Well,” said the rabbit, “I ask to eat some mine, too,” said the rabbit. “You shall not eat all your rice and be fat, and me be poor.” So the rabbit began to eat, and ate till he ate all his rice mostly. They both wanted to buy a hound, so they could catch a deer. When they go to London, the frog had enough to buy him a hound, but the rabbit had just enough to buy him a dog’s head. On the way back home the frog’s dog jumped a deer and caught it. The frog could not keep up with the dog, but the rabbit he kept up and did the hallowing. When the dog caught the deer, b’o’ Rabbit ran the frog’s dog away, and put his dog-head there. When the frog got there, Ber Rabbit said, “Ber Frog, I thought your dog was some ’count, but that there dog-head of mine he can fly. Jus’ look how he stick to dat deer! Your old dog scared to go there. Hold him dog-head! Don’ let him go!” “Now, Ber Frog, you go over there whar you see that fire at and get some fire, and I will give you half.” They saw the moon rising, and they thought it was a fire. Ber Frog went hopping just as fast as he could. Soon as he thought he was far enough so that the rabbit could not see him, he hopped behind a large tree and soon came back. “Ber Rabbit, dat man would not let me have no fire.” Den Ber Rabbit look in de wes’ and saw a star. “Well, yonder is a man; go over there.” Away Ber Frog went, but soon came back again. “Ber Rabbit, dat man say you come. I walk too slow.” Away Ber Rabbit went, leaving Ber Frog to watch till he come. Ber Rabbit soon came again. “Ber Frog, that man live too far that a-way.” “Well, Ber Rabbit, jus’ go right over dar to dat man, he don’ live very far. You can go dar.” “Ber Frog, you oughter go, for somebody might take dat deer

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away from you.”—“No, dey won’t, neither! I’m a man, a good man, too,” said Ber Frog. So Ber Rabbit went again. While Ber Rabbit was gone, Ber Frog hid the deer so Ber Rabbit could not see him. Then he went jumping up and scream an’ holler, an’ call, “Ber Rabbit, Ber Rabbit!” Ber Rabbit came running. “Wha’ de matter? Wha’ de matter?” “A great big red-eyed man don’ come an’ took that deer ’way from me.” “Look a-here Ber Frog, yo’ done say his eyes was red?” “Yes, his eyes was red,” Ber Frog he say. “Well, I don’ keer,” say Ber Rabbit. “Any old fool ought know a old dead dog-head can’t catch no deer. Yo’ old dog caught him. I jus’ make fool out you.” “Ber Rabbit, I knowed dat you was lying. I don’ carried dat deer home. I knowed my dog caught dat deer. I ain’t goin’ give you a bit, neither. Now you go ’long to your house. I go to mine.” And away they both went.

GETTING RID OF THE OVERSEER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 253. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Prior to the Civil War, the slave populations of American plantations were at the mercy of the white overseer. Along with his African American second-in-command, the head man or driver, the overseer was the real law that governed the life of the bondsperson. The primary interest of the overseer was not the well-being of the labor source but maintaining high levels of production. It is reported that overseers were recruited from the meanest of the Southern whites.

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here was once a man, an’ he had an overseer an’ a head man. An’ when the overseer was supposed to be watchin’, he would go out to see his girl and leave the head man to watch. An’ every mornin’ one sheep was missing, until one day the man said, “Every day one of the sheep are gone.” So that night, instead of the overseer goin’ to see the girl, he watched and seed what the head man did; an’ when the head man picked up the sheep, the overseer said, “Ha, ha! You’re the one that been taking away the sheep! Now you take that sheep and carry it to the man.” The head man reached down after the sheep, and picked it up and let it fall, and said, “I can’t carry it. I bet you can’t pick that sheep up.” And while the overseer was pickin’ the sheep up, the head man reached and got his gun, and said, “Now you carry that sheep to the man.” An’ he made him carry the sheep to the man, an’ said, “Here’s the man that was takin’ away your sheep.” So that’s the way that the man lost his job.

RABBIT, FOX, AND THE TARBABY Tradition Bearer: Charles E. Flagg Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 256–57. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

In this classic and internationally distributed tale, the trickster Rabbit uses his wits to escape a situation created by his greed. The “mock plea” that enables Rabbit to outwit ’Possum is a classic conclusion to the tale. More unusual is the fact that Fox, also a trickster but often Rabbit’s dupe, is allowed to have the last and wisest word.

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nce Broder Rabbit and Broder Fox decided to be friends. So they were to go out at night to steal from Broder ’Possum, but it seemed dat Broder Rabbit would try and play off on Broder Fox. Well, they went on; Broder Rabbit pretended to be Broder ’Possum’s best friend.

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Well, Broder ’Possum said to Broder Rabbit one day, “Look here, Broder Rabbit, does you know dat somebody is stealing all my milk and corn?” Broder Rabbit he laughed, and said, “Well, Broder ’Possum, that’s too bad! Us ought to catch that person, and what we do for him will be a plenty.” Broder ’Possum thought Broder Rabbit was de man who was robbing him, so he fixed a trap for him. So one night Broder ’Possum set up a tar man near his corn-crib. Up comes Broder Fox and Rabbit with their sacks. Broder Fox he spy the man, he stops; but Mr. Rabbit he walks on; and when he saw the man, he was frightened very much, but he took courage and went on. He walked up to the tar man and railed out, “Oh, yes! I cotch you here at Broder ’Possum’s crib. You de fellow been stealing corn.” The man didn’t speak. Then Broder Rabbit walked up to strike him. He slapped the man, and his hand stuck. “Let my hand go! I got anoder one here.” He then pound away with the other hand, and that stuck. “You better let go my hands! I got two foots here.” Then he pound away again, and his foot stuck. He kicked again, and his other foot stuck. “You better let my foots go! I got a head here, I’ll butt you.” Then he gave a hard butt, and there he was hard and fast for Broder ’Possum the next morning. Well, the next morning Broder ’Possum came down and found Broder Rabbit stuck fast to the tar man. “O Broder Rabbit! I thought I would catch you. You are the one who has been stealing from me.” “Oh, no, Broder ’Possum! I was just watching to see if I could catch anybody for you, and, come to behold, I cotched this man. I walked up and spoke, and he wouldn’t speak, so I struck him; and every time I struck him, my hands and feet would stick, so I kept him until this morning for you.” “Well, that’s all right, Broder Rabbit. I put this man here just to catch you. So now I am going to punish you.” “Lord! Broder ’Possum, what is you goin’ to do to me?” “I am going to throw you in the river.” “Oh, please throw me in right now, Broder ’Possum! I likes dat very much.”—“No, I won’t throw you there, I’ll put you in the fire.” “Oh, I don’t care! I want to go in the fire, I am cold. Please put me in now, Broder ’Possum!” “No, I won’t do that, I’ll tie you and throw you in the brier-patch.” “O Broder ’Possum! please don’t throw me in the patch, those briers will stick me to death.” “Well, I am going to throw you in, anyway.” Then he bound Broder Rabbit and threw him into the patch, but the rabbit was just where he wanted to be. After he was loosed, he laughed at Broder ’Possum, and went on his way with Broder Fox.

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The Mid-Atlantic | Take My Place

“Well,” said Broder Fox, “I guess, when you goin’ steal again, you will be a little more shy.”

TAKE MY PLACE Tradition Bearer: E. E. Edwards Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 261. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Rabbit turns his talents as trickster against Wolf, one of his most common adversaries in American folk tradition. The tale culminates in Wolf’s voluntary drowning in a variant of the “fatal deception” motif (K842).

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ne day Brer Rabbit stole some cabbage from Brer Wolf. Brer Wolf caught Brer Rabbit and put him into a hollow log, and put a block of wood into each end to prevent Brer Rabbit from getting out. He said that he was going to starve Brer Rabbit to death. After Brer Rabbit had been in there a half a day, Brer Wolf passed by and hailed him. “Hello, Brer Rabbit!” said he. Brer Rabbit answered, “Hello!” The next day Brer Wolf passed again. Brer Rabbit spoke so low that he could scarcely be heard. Brer Wolf said to himself, “He is ’most dead.” About noon Brer Wolf came back again, and hailed, but received no answer. Brer Wolf got an axe and pounded upon the log, but he got no answer. He then called and called, but no answer. So he said, “Brer Rabbit is dead.” Brer Wolf took the block out of the end of the log, laughed to himself, and walked away. After he was gone, Brer Rabbit laughed, too. He came out of the log greatly tickled at Brer Wolf’s foolishness. In a few days he met Brer Wolf.

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Brer Wolf said, “Hello, Brer Rabbit! I thought you were dead.” Then he caught Brer Rabbit again, and decided to box him up and throw him into the river. Brer Wolf called Brer Bear, Brer Elephant, and Brer Fox to see the fun. After Brer Rabbit was put into the box, it was found that there were no nails to nail the cover down with. So they put the cover on, and all went away after nails. As soon as they were gone, Brer Rabbit came out. He found a stone, and put it in the box and fitted the cover on, just as before. When Brer Wolf came back without looking into the box, he and his friends began to nail down the cover of the box. When they were ready, they said good-bye to Brer Rabbit, but he would not speak. They laughed, and said he was mad. Then they flung the box into the river, and it sank. In two or three days Brer Rabbit came back with cheese and butter and milk and gold and silver. He gave them all some, and thanked them for throwing him into the river. He told them that he had had a good time. Then Brer Wolf asked them to put him into a box and throw him into the river. They did it, but have not seen him since.

RABBIT ESCAPES FROM THE PEA PATCH Tradition Bearer: Sarah Demmings Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 273–74. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Tales featuring Brer Rabbit often document his ability to use singing, dancing, fiddling, and other frivolous talents to attain his goals. Folklorist Elsie Clews Parsons notes the tale’s resemblance to a Cherokee narrative, making “Rabbit Escapes from the Pea Patch” an example of mutual influence between ethnic traditions.

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The Mid-Atlantic | Rabbit Escapes from the Pea Patch

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nce a girl was picking peas in a pea-patch, and a rabbit came along. Brer Rabbit went to eating peas. He found them so good, that he kept eating and singing, too.

“Picking peas, Land on my knees. Heard old woman call Right over there.” By this time the girl stopped and listened to the rabbit. As soon as he had finished his song, she said, “Sing that song again,” and the rabbit sang again. “Picking peas, Land on my knees. Heard old woman call Right over you.” While he was singing, she caught him and carried him to the house, and told her father and mother to listen to Brer Rabbit sing. The mother said, “Put him on the floor.” Then Brer Rabbit sang, “Picking peas, Land on my knees. Heard old woman call Right over you.” When he had finished, they said, “Sing that song again.” Brer Rabbit say, “Put me on the bed, and I will.” So the little girl put him on the bed, and he sang the same song again. Then the father and mother said, “Sing that song again.” Brer Rabbit say, “Put me in the window, and I will.” So they put him in the window; and he sang, “Picking peas, picking peas, Land on my knees. Heard old woman call Right over you.” And with that he jumped out of the window and ran away into the woods, and they never saw Brer Rabbit again.

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IN THE BEE TREE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 266–67. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Rabbit’s ploys for escaping Buzzard’s wrath are common elements in trickster tales. Here, Rabbit offers a bribe to appeal to Buzzard’s gluttony, allowing the dupe to trap himself. Rabbit’s final trick on Buzzard and his closing retort border on the sadistic, however.

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rer Buzzard was going to kill Brer Rabbit. One day Brer Buzzard met Brer Rabbit in the road. Brer Rabbit had two jugs of syrup. Brer Buzzard said, “If you don’t give me one of those jugs, I will kill you.” He gave one of them to Brer Buzzard. Then Brer Buzzard said, “You will have to give me both jugs.” Brer Rabbit did so. “Now I have both jugs,” said Brer Buzzard, “and I am going to kill you, anyhow.” Brer Rabbit said, “Brer Buzzard, please let me off, and I will carry you to a bee-tree.” Brer Buzzard said, “All right!” They went on; and when they got to the tree, Brer Rabbit went up first and ate honey until he saw the bees and came down. Then Brer Buzzard went up. He was so greedy, that the bees stung him on the head. It swelled in the hollow so that he could not get it out. Then Brer Buzzard said to Brer Rabbit, “Run for the doctor, and ask him what I shall do!” Brer Rabbit ran around the tree, and said, “Two good wrings and one good snatch.” But that wouldn’t do. Brer Rabbit ran around the tree again, and said, “Take the hatchet and chop it out.” Brer Buzzard said, “Come on, and get it out for me!”

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The Mid-Atlantic | Brer Rabbit Dines on Brer Wolf

Brer Rabbit went up there and chopped around, and then cut his head off. Then Brer Rabbit got a piece of mud and put it on his neck, and said, “Now flutter, now flutter, if you can!”

BRER RABBIT DINES ON BRER WOLF Tradition Bearer: W. P. Narcom Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 267–69. Date: 1903 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

As in the preceding animal tale “In the Bee Tree,” a confrontation between Rabbit and a would-be murderer goes badly for the trickster’s adversary. The ending is a variation on a motif (K891.1) most familiar as the concluding episode of “The Three Little Pigs.”

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long time ago Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit were good friends, but for some reason or other they became deadly enemies. Brer Wolf decided to do Brer Rabbit harm. Brer Rabbit stayed in his house most of the time, so Brer Wolf couldn’t get at him. Wolf, however, thought of a way to get him out by stratagem. He knew that Brer Rabbit liked fruit: so he went to Brer Rabbit’s door one night, and told him he knew where some fine large apples grew, and asked him if he would like to go and get some. Brer Rabbit very politely accepted the invitation, and agreed to go for the apples next morning at five o’clock. Brer Wolf trotted off home to dream of the sweet revenge he was going to have on Brer Rabbit, but Brer Rabbit was on to his tricks. Promptly at three o’clock he went after his apples, and was back quite a while before five o’clock.

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As the clocks struck five, Brer Wolf tapped on the door. “Are you ready to go for dem apples, Brer Rabbit?” says ’e. Brer Rabbit says, “La’, Brer Wolf, my watch said five o’clock long ’go, and I thought you wasn’t comin’, so Ise done been.” Brer Wolf was so mad he couldn’t stand still; but he did not give up his hope for revenge, so he told Brer Rabbit ’bout some peaches which were farther away from Brer Rabbit’s house than the apples. Brer Rabbit gladly consented to go, this time at four o’clock; but when Brer Wolf came after him next morning, he had been fooled again, and Brer Rabbit was inside enjoying his peaches. This time Brer Wolf was so mad dat his hair turned gray, but he wouldn’t give up. He decided to send Brer Rabbit on a fool’s errand: so he told him about some fine pears. They grew on a distant hill very far away. There wa’n’t no pears dere at all. Brer Wolf jest want to get Brer Rabbit out of his house one more time. They agreed to go at three o’clock this time. Brer Rabbit started out ahead of time, as usual; but Brer Wolf, who had caught on to him, started out early too. He first caught sight of Brer Rabbit sittin’ on de hill resting, den he kinder laughed up his sleeve when he thought how tired he must be from walking so far, an’ how mad he must be for bein’ fooled. After waiting a while, so’s to catch his wind, he started out as if to speak to Brer Rabbit. Brer Rabbit knew there was trouble in the wind: so, as soon as he saw Brer Wolf comin’, he made a break for home. Right down de hill he went, and Brer Wolf started right behind him. It was a race for life; and Brer Rabbit did his level best, while old Brer Wolf was equal to the occasion. They ran through cornfields, through woods and across fields, ’til they got in sight of Brer Rabbit’s house. The sight of the house gave Brer Rabbit new courage and strength; so that he made a final break, and got in the house and locked the door just as Brer Wolf rushed ’ginst it. Brer Wolf tried all of his force to open the door; and as he failed, he decided to come down the chimney. Brer Rabbit had no intention of letting any one come down the chimney after him: so he just set a big kettle of boiling water right under the chimney; and when Brer Wolf dropped down, he went smack into the kettle. Den Brer Rabbit slapped on de cover, and he had Brer Wolf just where he wanted him. Brer Wolf make all kinds of whining entreaties for Brer Rabbit to let him out, but it wasn’t no better for him. Brer Rabbit made a fine stew of Brer Wolf, and eat apple-sauce and peaches along with him. After this he went after fruit whenever he got ready, without fear of being caught by Brer Wolf.

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The Mid-Atlantic | Rabbit Seeks Meat

IN LIQUOR Tradition Bearer: Samuel D. Holloway Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 279. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

This short animal tale combines two classic tale types: “Wait Until I Get Dry” (AT122H) and “A Drunkard’s Promise” (AT111A).

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rer Rat fell into a barrel of whiskey one day, and couldn’t get out: so he cries to Brer Cat, and says, “Brer Cat, if you take me out of this barrel, and when I dry, I’ll let you eat me.” “All right!” says Brer Cat. So Brer Cat took Brer Rat out of the barrel of whiskey and put him in the sun so that he would dry quickly. Meantime Brer Rat was looking for some hole that he might run into. Finally he saw one, and with a jump he hid himself. Then Brer Cat says, “Oh, no! That’s not fair, Brer Rat.” “What’s not fair?” “You said, if I took you out of that barrel of whiskey, you would let me eat you when you dry.” “A man’s liable to say anything when he’s in liquor.”

RABBIT SEEKS MEAT Tradition Bearer: Boyd Rhetta Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 277. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

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The following animal tale is a composite of tales and motifs found in African American, Native American, and European American tradition. The trickster hunter using his wits rather than any real hunting skill is a constant in the tale, but the characters by whom he is commanded (the king’s daughter and his wife), the prey (alligator, panther, and elephant), and the settings (a medieval kingdom and the modern South) suggest a variety of narrative and cultural influences.

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he king’s daughter was rich, and she wanted some alligator-meat to eat. The rabbit took his harp and went to the creek, and began to sing on his harp. The alligator came out to join in a dance; but the rabbit struck after him with a large club, so he went back. The rabbit went and killed a squirrel, and dressed himself in the squirrel’s skin. He went back to the pond and began playing again. The alligator came out and played. The rabbit walked around playing until he got a chance to kill the alligator. He killed him, and carried him to his wife. Then the rabbit’s wife said that she wanted some panther-meat. The rabbit went to the woods and built a fire and blew a horn; and when the panther came, he told him that he would let him eat him if he would come through his fire. “I will,” said the panther; but the panther did not know about the rabbit’s tar baby in the middle of the fire. It caught him, and he died. The rabbit took him to his wife. When the rabbit and his wife were nearly ready to go to their new place, his wife asked for some elephant-meat. She did not think that he could get elephant’s meat; but he said, “I can get any kind of meat.” He met the elephant, and said, “I heard that you could carry a stack of hay, a can of oil, a box of matches, and me on the top.” “I can,” said the elephant. “Why, do you want to try it?” “Yes. I don’t believe you can,” said the rabbit. They got the hay on the elephant’s back, and the rabbit got upon the hay and took the oil and matches. As the elephant walked on, the rabbit put his oil on the hay. He thought the oil would sting the elephant; but before the elephant could speak, he said, “Hay stings people backs, don’t it, brother Elephant? “ “Yes,” said the elephant, “but I don’t mind that.” When they got nearly to the place where the rabbit would have to get down, the rabbit lighted a match and stuck it to the hay. Then he got down, and said, “What is that on your back?”

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The Mid-Atlantic | Lion Brooks No Rival

After the elephant died, he took some of the meat to his wife. Soon after this the rabbit and his wife moved to their new place in Georgia.

LION BROOKS NO RIVAL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 264. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Rabbit uses wit to overcome tyranny in this African American example of AT92, an animal tale with an international distribution in both oral and literary renderings.

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ion was supposed to be the head of all the beast in that place. He got so lazy ev’ry day, he had an animal come in ev’ry day so he could eat it. Ev’y day an animal went in. So finally it came the rabbit’s turn to go in. He was one of the wisest animals of that time. He was supposed to be there at twelve o’clock. He came hoppin’ along the road, stoppin’ everywhere, lookin’ at everything, until it threw him off time. Wonders, where he goin’, what could he do to keep the lion from gettin’ so angry with him. So finally he came across a well. The thought came to him as he looked into the well, he saw his shadow; he had a scheme to fool the lion. He had been told by the other animals that any way he could get rid of the lion, they would pay him, give him praise of being the wisest animal of the forest. He entered the lion’s room pretendin’ he had been runnin’, doin’ all he could to get there on time. The lion asked him why he was so late. The rabbit began to tell him the story why he was so late. So he tol’ the lion, if he didn’

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believe what he had tol’ him, to follow him, and he would show him. So the lion went with the rabbit to the well. The rabbit tol’ the lion to get up on the curb of the well and look down into the well, and he would see what had delayed him. So he did. When he looked into the water, he saw another face, not knowing that it was himself. He frowned, he grit his teeth, and the other lion did the same thing. The lion on top, thinking that he was master of all the beasts of the forest, jumped into the well, and that was the last of the lion. And the rabbit got the praise of being the wisest beast of the forest.

THE WATCHER TRICKED Tradition Bearer: Josephine Johnson Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 262–64. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

After being deceived by Rabbit’s flattery, Buzzard turns trickster by playing on Fox’s greed.

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nce there was a fox and a buzzard who were good friends. They used to go hunting together. One day they took their guns and went a-hunting. They came to a tree where there was a holler in the tree. Ol’ fox decided there was somethin’ up the holler, a rabbit or somethin’. So he got some dry wood and made a fire in the holler, and smoked it. He smoked and smoked it, and nothin’ came down. But he was sure there was somethin’ up there. So he tol’ the turkey-buzzard to stay and watch the holler, and see that nothin’ came down, while he went back home to get an axe to cut the tree down. The buzzard promised that he’d do so. The fox went home to get an axe, and the buzzard set down by the tree to watch the holler.

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The Mid-Atlantic | The Watcher Tricked

While the fox had been talkin’ to the buzzard, the rabbit had been thinkin’ of some way to come down the holler. So after de fox left, Rabbit said to de buzzard, “Mr. Buzzard, they tell me you have silver eyes and a gold bill.” An’ the buzzard said, “Well, so I have.” The rabbit said, “Look up yonder an’ let me see them!” An’ the buzzard was very glad to show his gold bill and silver eyes. So he poked his head in the holler and looked up at the rabbit. The rabbit raked up a handful of trash and threw in his eyes. The buzzard went off to get some water to wash his eyes; and while he was gone, the rabbit came down. The buzzard came back and sat down by de holler and waited for the fox. Fox came and cut down the tree, and didn’ see the rabbit run or anything. So he ask, “Mr. Buzzard, where is dat rabbit? “ And de buzzard said, “He was up dere de las’ time I see him.” So de fox decided to split de holler open. He split it, and still didn’ see any rabbit; an’ he ask again, “Mr. Buzzard, where is de rabbit?” Buzzard said, “He was up dere de las’ time I saw him.” Den de fox got angry wid de buzzard, and ran at him with his axe to kill him. And de buzzard ran and ran so fast, dat he split his dress wide open, and he took de two sides of his dress and commence to fly, used dem for wings. So you see de buzzard’s been flyin’ ever since. Buzzard was angry wid de fox, and wanted to get even with him: so one day he came flyin’ over de fox, singin’, “Way down yonder, whey I come from, Dey t’row away meat, Dey t’row away bread. Everyt’ing good dey t’row away.” And de fox say, “What’s that, Mr. Buzzard? Sing dat again.” And de buzzard sang it: “Way down yonder, whey I come from, Dey t’row away meat, Dey t’row away bread. Everyt’ing good dey t’row away.” Fox asked de buzzard, “Mr. Buzzard, could you take me down there?” Buzzard say, “Yes, jump up on my back.” Fox got on de buzzard back. Buzzard went flyin’ ’round. He went way up in de air. When he’d gotten high enough to kill the fox, he turned from one side

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to the other. Every time he turned, de fox would run to de other side, and de buzzard saw he couldn’ turn him off in dat way. So he turned over upside down, and Fox fell to de ground and was killed.

VOICE ABOVE Tradition Bearer: Ruth Holmes Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 216–17. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The inclusion of an electric chair as the means of execution is a way of adapting an older tale to a more modern audience. Contradictory elements, such as changing a hanging to an electrocution and holding an execution in church, underscore the fact that narrative consistency may be lost in the immediacy of oral performance.

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rer Fox was goin’ round makin’ a lot of trouble. So he drove brother Bear’s wife from home by goin’ round makin’ mischief on her. Said he seen her go down to the pond and flirt with brother Turtle. So after she had gone, it was too late for brother Bear, an’ he was sorry. So they made up their minds to hang him. So brother Bear an’ a lot of his friends got a rope an’ hid behind some thickets. When brother Fox went by, they caught him an’ take him to the church. So Brer Fox said, “Please let me go say good-bye to my wife an’ children first.” Brer Bear was the judge. He gave Brer Fox five minutes. He went down to a large pond, an’ he met his friend the stork. He sat down an’ began to cry. The stork said, “What’s the matter, friend of mine? Can I help you out any way?” Brother Fox said, “Oh, yes! They’re goin’ to hang me.”

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The Mid-Atlantic | Three Ends

He said, “You go on ahead of me, an’ when they start to hang me, you git up in the ceilin’, an’ jus’ say these words, `Don’t kill him, don’t kill him!’” So the stork said “All right!” So he went to the church, and the bear was very glad to have him. The stork got in a corner by himself. They put Brer Fox in the electric chair, an’ was jus’ gettin’ ready to push the button, an’ the stork flew up in the ceilin’ an’ begin to sing, “Don’t kill him, don’t kill him!” An’ they all stopped an’ listened; and brother Fox said, “Listen! do you hear that?” An’ Brother Bear say, “Yes, what is it?” He said, “The Lord sendin’ his angels down to tell yer not to kill me.” So they all got scared an’ left the church, an’ left brother Fox in the ’lectric chair. An’ when they had gone, brer Fox got way up in top of a big tree, an’ he laughed an’ laughed till he cried. He said, “O Brer Bear! I got the best of you, after all.” That’s all.

THREE ENDS Tradition Bearer: W. Young Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 304. Date: 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Folklorist Elsie Clews Parsons has credited A. M. Bacon with drawing attention to the existence of an important body of “Irish jokes” in the repertoire of African Americans in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. While most of these ethnic jokes cast the Irishman in the numskull role, the following tale allows Pat to win the day and the captain’s daughter with a clever play on words.

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nce there was a sea-captain who thought he would have some fun with one of his witty Irish sailors. The captain said to him, “Pat, here is a piece of rope. If you find three ends to it, you can marry the best-looking of my daughters, and she is very beautiful.” Pat took the rope, and studied and studied and studied for several days. He never even ate his meals, and the captain had a hard time trying to get him to work. At last Pat went to the captain and said that he had found three ends to the rope, and called the captain to the ship’s side. He showed the captain both ends of the rope, and then threw it over-board, and said, “Faith, and there’s the other end.”

THREE MORE FOOLS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 306–7. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

“Three More Fools” is another of the African American ethnic jokes casting an Irishman in the role of fool. The tale is actually a collage of numskull stories: “The Cow is Taken to the Roof to Graze” (AT1210), “Jumping into the Breeches” (AT1286), and “Mr. Hard-times” (compare this fragment to “Mr. Hard Time,” Vol. II, p. 260).

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n Irishman who had not been in this country very long, fell in love with an American girl; but the girl’s father objected to her marrying him, because he was such a fool. He told the Irishman that if he would go off and find another such big fool, he might marry his daughter. So he went off looking for a fool; and he found a man who had moss all over the top of his house, and had put his cow up on the top of the house to eat off

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The Mid-Atlantic | Chair on His Head

the moss. Then he found another man who didn’t know how to get into a pair of trousers: so he hung them up in a tree, and climbed up and jumped down into them. Another man brought some money that he had saved up for a long time to his wife, and said, “Put this money away for hard times; and when Mr. HardTimes comes, you give that money to him, and not to any one else.” But someone out of doors who wanted to get the money heard their conversation; and when the husband had gone, he knocked on the door. The woman went to the door, and said, “Good-morning! Who are you?” The man said, “I am John Hard-Times.” She said, “Oh, you must be the man my husband meant for me to give the money to!” and the man said yes, he was. So she went and got the money which she had put away very carefully, and gave it to him, and he went off. When her husband returned and heard what she had done, he was much disturbed, of course, and said to her, “All right! Pull the door behind you, and come and find the man.” And he started off; and she takes the door off the hinges and drags it behind her, and he looks back and sees her. Well, finally they find Mr. HardTimes and get the money back; and finally, I believe, he kills her, she is so stupid. So the young man finds out all these fools; and, as it turns out, the old man is the biggest fool of all, and the young fellow marries his daughter.

CHAIR ON HIS HEAD Tradition Bearer: Wesley D. Elam Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 301. Date: 1920 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

This numskull story based on “Mistaken Identities” (AT1319) plays on the newly arrived Irishman’s ignorance of the rural countryside where he has chosen to make his new home.

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wo Irishmen. One of them had been in America quite a while, and he knew about the deer. He took this new Irishman out with him, gave him a gun. He put him on a stand. He tol’ him, he says, “The first thing you see comin’ by here makin’ high jumps,” he says, “shoot him.” Tol’ him, “After you shoot him and sure you kill him, blow your horn.” So pretty soon, while he was on the stand, a frog runnin’ out of the way of a snake came by, jumpin’ as high as he could to get out of the way of the snake. This Irishman saw him, put up his gun and shot him, shot him and blew his horn, blew his horn, blew his horn. The other feller didn’t come for quite a while, seen the deer hadn’ gotten there that quick. While he was there waitin’ for the other Irishman to come, a real deer came runnin’ by. He saw him, big thing, with a set of horns on his head. He ran out the way. So pretty soon afterwards the other Irishman came, said, “Did you get him, Pat?” “Yes, by Jesus! I got him.” Took him down there and showed him the frog, said, “This isn’t any deer, Pat. Did you see any deer comin’ down here?” No, he hadn’ seen any deer; said, “I saw somethin’ comin’ through here with a chair on his head, but I didn’ see no deer.”

MOON CHEESE: TWO IRISHMEN AT THE WELL Tradition Bearer: E. M. Evans Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 302. Date: 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

This narrative is a recasting of the numskull story “Diving for Cheese” (AT1336) into one of the “foolish Irishman” ethnic jokes popular in the Mid-Atlantic and Southern African American communities in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The last sentence is a

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formulaic ending similar to those found in the traditional tales of both European Americans and African Americans.

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nce upon a time two Irishmen came to a well as they were traveling through the country one night. One of them happened to look down into a well, and saw the moon, which he took to be a cake of cheese. Calling the other, he said, “Faith, Pat, and ma Jesus, here is a cake of cheese! How are we going to get it?” The other said, “Pat, you catch hold of the top of the well, and I will go down and catch hold of your feet, then we shall be able to reach the cheese.” So these two went down, one hanging to the other’s feet. The one at the top said, “Faith, Pat, and ma Jesus, hold on, Pat! Let me spit on my hand and catch a fresh grip!” So he let go his hold to catch a fresh grip, and they both went tumbling down into the well. I do not know whether they got the cheese or not; the person that told the story to me said he left about that time.

WHERE’S MR. MCGINNIS? Tradition Bearer: R. R. Moton Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 302. Date: 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Another Irish ethnic joke, some variants of this tale of the fool’s attempt to break the news of a husband’s death gently sometimes substitutes “Want to bet?” for the far harsher punch line given here.

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hey say that the Irish laborers never work so faithfully as when the train is coming, because often the railroad-inspectors are on the train, and they notice if they leave off work too soon. Once a working-man was killed by working too long when the train was coming; and the foreman said to an Irishman there, “Go and tell Mrs. McGinnis that her husband was killed by the train.” Pat started off quickly; but the foreman called him back, and said, “Tell it to her gently.” Pat hurried to the house, and said to the woman, “O Mrs. McGinnis! Where’s Mr. McGinnis?” “Down on the railroad working,” said Mrs. McGinnis. “You’re a liar,” said Pat, “he’s dead.”

THE RACE Tradition Bearer: Mary Smith Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 214. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The following animal tale demonstrates the vitality of the race between the tortoise and the hare (AT275A) in twentieth-century African American repertoires. In this tale, Rabbit displays one of the classic flaws of trickster figures—arrogance.

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nce upon a time there was a tortoise and a rabbit lived in a forest together. So the rabbit says to the tortoise, “How slow you walk!”

So there was a river not far away, where water-lilies grew. So the tortoise said to the rabbit, “I’ll run a race with you.”

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So the rabbit laughed at the tortoise. So the rabbit asked where he wanted to run a race to. The tortoise said, “Down to the river, where the water-lilies grew.” And the rabbit said, “You’ll grow old and die before you get there.” But the turtle said to the rabbit, “Who shall we have for a judge to this race?” An’ the rabbit said, “We’ll get Mr. Wolf for a judge.” So they said, one, two, three, an’ away they went. So the rabbit ran right fast till he got in sight of the river where the water-lilies grew. And he lay down in the shade to rest. While he was resting, he fell fast asleep. And when he awoke again, it was the next day at dinner-time. So he was very hungry; and he ran into a near field an’ eat some clover, an’ he didn’t know that the tortoise had passed him while he was asleep. So after he had ate his dinner, he ran right fast to the goal. But who should he find when he got there, waiting for him, but the tortoise who he had laughed at the day before.

DIVIDING THE SOULS Tradition Bearer: Ruth Holmes Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 215. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

“Preacher” often appears as a stock character in African American jokes such as this variant of “Voices from the Graveyard” (AT1676C). In these tales, Preacher is exposed for not abiding by the high standards he professes. In the present instance, there seems to be some doubt as to whether the Devil or God has been able to claim his soul.

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nce there were two men, an’ they were out one afternoon fishin’. They caught a large basket of fish. It was growin’ towards evening.

One of the men says, “Where shall we go to count the fish?” The other man says, “Oh, we’ll find a place.” So they went on till they come to a graveyard. So they stopped. They went in an’ started a-countin’, “One for me, an’ one for you.” (They had dropped two fish on the road.) They kept on saying, “One for me an’ one for you, two for me an’ two for you.” One of the preacher’s friends come along. He stopped an’ listened. He thought the Devil and the Lord was in the graveyard dividin’ up people. So he goes to the preacher’s house. And he said, “Reverend John, your preachin’s true, but the Devil an’ the Lord’s in the grave-yard dividin’ up people.” Says, “How do you know? I don’t believe you.” Says, “Well, get your hat and come an’ see.” When they had got to the graveyard, they heard the two fishermen say, “Let us go after the other two!” So they both ran home as fast as they could go.

FIRST OUT Variant A Tradition Bearer: Fred Davenport Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 299. Date: Unavailable Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Mutt and Jeff were characters from a newspaper comic strip created in 1907 by cartoonist Bud Fisher (1885–1954). In Variant A of “First Out,” the names of the characters serve as generic numskull figures. Variant B,

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given the statements made about Dutchmen’s mental capacities and the criminal act upon which the plot is built, functions as an ethnic joke. The name “Pat,” however, is closely associated with Irish jokes. In fact, the casting of “Dutchman” in the numskull role is unusual in this regional context.

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nce Mutt and Jeff got together, thinking what they wanted to do. “Say, Jeff! I know where I can get me some meat. Let’s go round yonder and see that house to-night! There’s a cow round there I want to get.” They got there that night ’bout twelve o’clock. Mutt tol’ Jeff, “Take this axe. I wantcher ter hit the first thing that come out in the head.” So Mutt went in, and lef’ Jeff on the outside. Cow had a young calf, Mutt didn’ know it. Cows are very bad when they have young calves. Mutt went under the house (in olden time people used to keep the cow under the house) to get the cow. The cow run him out first. So Jeff struck him on the head and knocked him to de groun’. When he became conscious, he asked Jeff, “What didcher hit me for? What didcher mean?” Jeff said, “Nothing, only to do what you tol’ me to do.”

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Augustine O. Green Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 299–300. Date: ca. 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

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tory about two Dutchmen. They went out one night to ketch some sheep. They knew where it was a pas’ure, and to this pas’ure there was only one gate. Dutch people they don’t seem to remember as well as we do, and one of the men told Sam to go ’roun’ in the pas’ure and drive the sheep to him. An’ Sam went in at this gate, and this other man was called Pat. Pat stayed at the gate; and when Pat sent Sam in, he said, if anything came at the gate, he was goin’ to kill it. Sam went in the pas’ure and roamed all aroun’, but he couldn’ fin’ any sheep.

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After he had hunted all round in the pas’ure, he had forgotten what Pat had told him, and, not thinking, came back to the same place that he went in. Pat not knowin’ any better, when Sam came up through the gate, Pat took him for a sheep. Pat was standin’ outside the gate with a large club; and, when Sam came out, Pat struck him with the club and knocked him out. At the same time Pat thought that Sam had a sheep; but when he came to find out, he had knocked Pat in the head. Pat said to himself, “This will end up my tryin’ to get other people’s sheep.”

THE SINGLE BALL Tradition Bearer: Brown, Payton Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 292. Date: 1920 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

“The Single Ball” is virtually identical to the tale “Lies Too Far Apart” (Vol. II, p. 126), with the exception that Jake does not take the liberty to admonish his master about his “damn lies.”

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here was once a slave and his master. The slave could tell any kind of a tale for his master, so his master used to take him around with him to visit his friends. On one occasion the master told the following tale, and asked Jake, his slave, to verify it and also tell jus’ how it was done. “Yesterday Jake and I were out on East Mountain, huntin’, and we saw a deer on West Mountain. And I aimed, and shot the deer through his right hindheel and his right ear with one shot. Didn’t I do it, Jake?” “Yes, sah, master! you certainly did it.” “Well, all right, Jake! You jus’ tell this gentleman how I did it.”

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Jake scratched his head and thought a moment, and said, “Oh, yes master, you mean the deer dat was scratchin’ his head? De deer had his right foot up, scratch his right ear, when master shot, and the bullet went through his right heel and his ear.” It was a very plausible story; but Jake turned to his master, and said, “Look here, master, please get dem shots a little closer together nex’ time.”

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SACRED TALES THE TRAVELING PREACHER AT THE HAUNTED HOUSE Tradition Bearer: Johnson, Elsie Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 288–89. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The fact that details such as place, date, or other localizing elements have not been provided in the following narrative suggests that it is not a local legend. Instead, it is a more generalized narrative attesting to the power of the preacher’s faith and especially to the power of calling on Christ’s name to dispel evil.

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here was a traveling preacher who was looking for a place to stay just for one night. He went to a very rich family and ask them, if they had a room, would they let him stay until morning. They told him that they did not have a room there, but there was an old house that sat over there in the


field, it was very haunty, and “If you can stay, you are welcome to it, for several men have been there, but did not come out again.” The preacher went over there to the old house, opened the door, and went upstairs, made himself a good fire in the fireplace, and sat there reading his Bible until twelve o’clock. He heard the dishes and pans rattling, and the chairs moving about, and some one scuffling around the floor. He said to himself, “I did not know that there were another family in here.” He did not pay any attention to that, he went on reading his Bible. After awhile he heard some one coming scuffling up the stairs. They said to him, “Mr. White said come down and have supper.” “Tell him that I am not at all hungry, I have just been to supper.” The second time he sent a cat. It scratched on the door and said, “Mr. White says please come down and have supper.” “Tell him that I do not care for any-thing, I have just been to supper.” The third time he said, “Mr. White says, if you don’t come down, you wish you had.” The preacher began to feel frighten’, and said, “I will be down there in a minute.” The preacher went down there to supper. There was a table all set with pretty dishes and plenty to eat. All the chairs around the table were filled with people except one, and that was for the preacher. When he sat down, they ask him if he would bless the table. He said, “Yes, I will.” This is the blessing that he said: “Good Lord, make us thankful for what we are about to receive, for Christ sake. Amen.” When he raised his head up, everybody was gone, and he was left there in the dark. He had to feel his way back up to his room. This was the only man ever lived there that did not get killed or ran away before morning. The next morning the preacher left the house, and thanked the people for letting him stay there.

THE DISMEMBERED GHOST Tradition Bearer: Ruth Holmes Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 217. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

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The following tale presents a contrast to the preceding narrative, “The Traveling Preacher at the Haunted House.” Whereas the preacher was able to banish the spirits that had killed or driven off all those who previously had tried to stay in the haunted house, the card players are powerless in spite of their bravado. The implication, of course, is that their “evil” lifestyle delivered them into the hands of dark forces.

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nce there was a man, an’ he wanted a place to lodge jus’ fur the night, him an’ his friends. So the man saw a little light ’tween the trees, an’ he followed the light. It led him to a little house way back in the woods. It was an old man standin’ in the door. The man says, “Say, Mister, have you got a place where I can lodge all night?” He says, “There’s a little house back there, but it’s haunted. If you can stay in it, all right.” He says, “I can stay any place the Devil can stay.” So he says, “Come on, fellers, we’ve got a good place!” So the man says, “We can have a nice game of cards here too.” They all got around the table, an’ had jus’ finished a game of cards, when one man looked up, an’ a pair of legs came down. He said, “Come on, let’s go!” The other men said, “Let’s stay here an’ see what the end of it is.” So they played a second game, an’ a body came down. An’ they kep’ on playin’, an’ two arms came down. The other man says, “How much longer you goin’ to stay here?” He said,” Don’t be so scared! nothin’ ain’t goin’ to bother you.” He says, “I’m right here; if anything bothers you, it will bother me too.” Then the head come down. The man that was standin’ in the middle of the floor said, “Well, what are yer doin’ playin’ cards in my house?” So they all got up from the table, lef’ everything they had, an’ ran to the man’s house. The man says, “What’s the matter, fellers?” The men say, “We can’t stay in that place.” The man says, “Well, you said you could live anywhere the Devil was.” They say, “I know, but I can’t live there.” That’s all.

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THE BLACK DOG OF THE BLUE RIDGE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Herrick, Mrs. R. F. “The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 151–52. Date: 1907 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: European American

The following supernatural legend alludes to the belief that “unfinished business”—family left unprovided for or improper burial rites, for example— are the source of hauntings. In most cases the ghost is that of the deceased. In this case, however, the dog is said to serve as his master’s surrogate.

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n Botetourt County, Virginia, there is a pass that was much traveled by people going to Bedford County and by visitors to mineral springs in the vicinity. In the year 1683 the report was spread that at the wildest part of the trail in this pass there appeared at sunset a great black dog, who, with majestic tread, walked in a listening attitude about two hundred feet and then turned and walked back. Thus he passed back and forth like a sentinel on guard, always appearing at sunset to keep his nightly vigil and disappearing again at dawn. And so the whispering went with bated breath from one to another, until it had traveled from one end of the state to the other. Parties of young cavaliers were made up to watch for the black dog. Many saw him. Some believed him to be a veritable dog sent by some master to watch, others believed him to be a witch dog. A party decided to go through the pass at night, well armed, to see if the dog would molest them. Choosing a night when the moon was full they mounted good horses and sallied forth. Each saw a great dog larger than any dog they had ever seen, and, clapping spurs to their horses, they rode forward. But they had not calculated on the fear of their steeds. When they approached the dog, the horses snorted with fear, and in spite of whip, spur, and rein gave him a wide berth, while he marched on as serenely as if no one were near. The party was unable to force their horses to take the pass again until after daylight. Then they were laughed at by their comrades to whom they told their

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experiences. Thereupon they decided to lie in ambush, kill the dog, and bring in his hide. The next night found the young men well hidden behind rocks and bushes with guns in hand. As the last ray of sunlight kissed the highest peak of the Blue Ridge, the black dog appeared at the lower end of his walk and came majestically toward them. When he came opposite, every gun cracked. When the smoke cleared away, the great dog was turning at the end of his walk, seemingly unconscious of the presence of the hunters. Again and again they fired and still the dog walked his beat. And fear caught the hearts of the hunters, and they fled wildly away to their companions, and the black dog held the pass at night unmolested. Time passed, and year after year went by, until seven years had come and gone, when a beautiful woman came over from the old country, trying to find her husband who eight years before had come to make a home for her in the new land. She traced him to Bedford County and from there all trace of him was lost. Many remembered the tall, handsome man and his dog. Then there came to her ear the tale of the vigil of the great dog of the mountain pass, and she pleaded with the people to take her to see him, saying that if he was her husband’s dog he would know her. A party was made up and before night they arrived at the gap. The lady dismounted, and walked to the place where the nightly watch was kept. As the shadows grew long, the party fell back on the trail, leaving the lady alone, and as the sun sank into his purple bed of splendor the great dog appeared. Walking to the lady, he laid his great head in her lap for a moment, then turning he walked a short way from the trail, looking back to see that she was following. He led her until he paused by a large rock, where he gently scratched the ground, gave a long, low wail, and disappeared. The lady called the party to her and asked them to dig. As they had no implements, and she refused to leave, one of them rode back for help. When they dug be-low the surface they found the skeleton of a man and the hair and bones of a great dog. They found a seal ring on the hand of the man and a heraldic embroidery in silk that the wife recognized. She removed the bones for proper burial and returned to her old home. It was never known who had killed the man. But from that time to this the great dog, having finished his faithful work, has never appeared again.

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HUSBAND TELLS OF TREASURE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Taylor, Helen Louise, and Rebecca Wolcott. “Items from New Castle, Delaware.” Journal of American Folklore 51 (1938): 92–93. Date: 1938 Original Source: Delaware National Origin: African American

As noted regarding the preceding legend, “The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge,” hauntings are commonly associated with the dead’s concern for the living. In this local legend, a deceased husband attempts to provide for the welfare of his surviving wife.

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he ground is believed to rise in the dark and sink in the light of the moon. Spirits are abroad in the dark of the moon. Recently a negress, who had rented a house on a farm, went to the owner and said that the spirit of her dead husband came to her every night to tell her that a treasure was buried in the yard near that house, and asked permission to dig for the treasure. She had already secured the services of another negro who had the power of locating treasure with a divining rod. As the divining rod had pointed right at the spot specified by the dead husband’s spirit, hopes were high. The negress was careful to dig in the dark of the moon when the treasure would be nearer the surface of the earth, and when her husband’s spirit also would remain beside her, for digging in the light of the moon “scares them ha’nts away.” Whether the treasure was found is not known. The spirit still haunted the house to such an extent that no negroes would live there and the house was finally torn down.

THE THIEF AT THE HAUNTED HOUSE Tradition Bearer: Duncan Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 289.

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Date: ca. 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Dog ghosts are a common motif in African American supernatural legend and folk belief. Ghostly lights as signs of dangerous supernatural beings are a cross-cultural motif (see, for example, “Jack-O’-My Lantern,” p. 265). Malefactors who have supernatural encounters often are changed for the better, and this is the case in the following tale.

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nce upon a time was a family of people who were different from all the people around them. They had very nice stock around them, a large orchard, all kinds of poultry, and a beautiful flower-yard. When one of the family died, they that remained buried the one that was dead. When all of them died but one, he became very lonely and died very soon. There was not any one to bury him, so he lay on his bed and decayed. After his death the house was said to be haunted, and no one could go inside of it. The next year after the last one of this family died, the fruit-trees bore a tremendous quantity of fruit, but no one came to get it. When people rode along the road which was near the house, they were often tempted to take some of the fruit that hung over the road; but when they put their hands to get the fruit, some one would speak to them and frighten them, so that they would forget the fruit. One day an old man who was a thief came by the house, and saw all the fruit and the poultry, and a large number of eggs lying under the flowers. He asked the people around why they did not get some of those things that were wasting there. The people answered by telling him if he could get any of them, he might have them. “Very well,” replied the old man, “I will have some of those things before I sleep tonight.” So he laid his coat that had his arms down just a little ways from the house, and stopped there until night came. As soon as it was a little dark, the man arose and went inside of the orchard, and tied eight hens which were up a large apple-tree to roost. When he had tied the eight, he discovered a light somewhere, he did not know where. He looked down on the ground, and there were two large dogs

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with lamps on their heads, which were giving him a good light. When he saw this, he became so frightened that he turned the hens loose and fell backwards out of the tree. The dogs jumped after him just as soon as he got to the ground. The man jumped up and began to run as fast as he could, with the dogs right behind him. His home was about four miles, and he ran every step of it. When he got to his house, he fell in the door speechless, and lay speechless for a long time. When he came to his senses, he told his wife and family about what had happened to him. After that there was not a man in the community that was any more honest than he was. He had been a rogue all of his life up to this time. After this happened he always worked for what he got.

MR. PEACOCK AND THE DEADLY GHOST Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bergen, Fanny D. “On the Eastern Shore.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 298–99. Date: 1889 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

In the following legend, the haunting is due to a crime the ghost committed while alive. As punishment, she is compelled to linger in spirit form. Folklorist Fanny D. Bergen reports that the act of reading the Bible backward and forward is tied to a belief in the area that reading the Bible backward prevents spirits from entering a house, while reading it forward prevents any who are already in the house from doing harm. The original transcription of the tale was Bergen’s attempt to faithfully reproduce the performer’s dialect. Unfortunately, it is cumbersome and an example of the difficulties of improvising a means of transcribing dialect (for the original transcription, see the Appendix, p. 363).

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bout two years ago, I reckon, an ole man died in the place where I used to live. He lef’ a heap o’ property to his heirs; there was a right smart head o’ children (i.e. there were many children), an’ he give ’em every one a farm, an there was one more farm yet left over. ’T was a good farm, an’ the house all furnished up, but no one didn’ care to live there, for they all said the house was haunted. But one of the heirs, he said he didn’ feel no way feared but he could lay that ghost, so’s to live there. An’ they told him the farm was his if he could lay the ghost. So he went to a man of the name of Peacock, that lived neighbor to him (he wasn’t church-member), an’ offered him a heap o’ money to go an’ lay that ghost. Mr. Peacock he went that same night to the house, takin’ his Bible along, an’ he set there a readin’ it backwards an’ forwards; he did n’ mind none whether the ghost come a-nigh or not. Sure enough the ghost come along while he was a-readin’, an’ it went all about through the house, so’s Mr. Peacock could hear it goin’ into the different rooms an’ a-movin’ things this-a-way an’ that-a-way. But he did n’ let on to hear the ghost, no indeed, but he kep’ a-readin’ away to his Bible. After a while, the ghost blowed out his lamp, but he jes lit it an’ read on ’n’ then he went into the bedroom an’ lay down. That sorter made the ghost mad, so’s it come into the bedroom, an’ he see it like as if ’t was an ole woman. For there was an ole woman’s ghost that haunted the house anyhow; they said it couldn’ rest nohow ’count o’ the murder the ole lady done whilst she was alive. Anyhow Mr. Peacock see her reach out her arm, long an’ skinny-like, under the bed, ’n’ she jes’ turned it over with him on it. But he only crept out from under it ’n’ went back inter the kitchen an’ begun to read away in his Bible. An’ there he stayed all night, ol’y afore day the ghost come once more ’n’ said, “If you come back here again, yo’ re a dead man.” Well, nex’ night Mr. Peacock come back again, yes indeed, and he’d got two preachers to come, too, ’n’ try to lay that ghost. One was a Methodis’ ’n’ the other was a Catholic, an’ they both brought their Bibles, ’n’ all of ’em kept areadin’ forward ’n’ backward. ’T wan’t no time at all till that ghost came again, an’ then it just’ went on most outrageous. The Methodis’, he didn’ stay to hear much o’ the racket till out he run, an’ never come back that night. The Catholic, he held out a good bit, but ’fore long he run an’ lef’ Peacock to stay it out by himself. Well, they say the ghost never spoke to him no mo’, but sure enough, in the mornin’, there was Peacock a-lyin’ dead, with his head cut clean off, yes indeed, sir! An’ there ain’t no one never tried to lay that ghost since.

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CURES OF A MARYLAND WITCH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wrenshall, Letitia Humphreys. “Incantations and Popular Healing in Maryland and Pennsylvania.” The Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 268–71. Date: 1901 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: German American

Pow-wow doctors in the German tradition are magical-religious healers who use incantations, holy words, and holy actions to heal both animals and humans. Folklorist Letitia Humphreys Wrenshall’s account of the personal experience narratives of a Maryland “witch” clearly identifies her resource person as operating within this folk tradition. Two of the more obscure diseases mentioned in the narrative are Botts, an ailment in horses caused by the larvae of the botfly and Erysipelas, a skin infection generally caused by the group A streptococci.

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ast autumn I had the opportunity of making personal observations amongst the people living in the mountain valleys of western Maryland and Pennsylvania, and especially as to their ways of affording relief in many bodily ailments. It is most interesting to see the entire faith of the country patients in their sometimes called witch doctors, and the quiet acquiescence of some of the town folks in these practices. In Pennsylvania the practice is called “powwow”; in Maryland it is spoken of as “trying for it,” and there is no doubt that the Maryland incantations are borrowed from the German; indeed, positive proof of this is found in South Mountain, the home of magic (of this species) in Maryland. Among the women of the region patchwork is their sole indulgence. I was so fortunate as to obtain from a most accomplished weaver of quilt pieces and spells much information upon “trying for it” and some of her “words.” She was a gentle, quiet-spoken woman, living in her own thick-walled stone house, very comfortably surrounded, and supplied by all that was yielded from a wellcared-for place of several acres. She practiced her faith, and to her it was truly a faith.

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I asked her if she made any effort to place her will in submission and supplication [to God] when she “tried for it.” She looked at me in surprise, and said very seriously, “If I didn’t do that, I couldn’t cure. That’s the way I do it.” She then complained, almost to tears, that some people thought she did it in other ways, and said she was a witch, and nothing hurt her as bad as that. She had perfect faith in her powers and her formulas, and told me instance after instance where she had “tried for it,” and accomplished the cure. A few typical ones I will give you. Mostly her cases were for “livergrowded children” I asked her to tell me the meaning of this term. She explained, “when they are cross and peaky, and don’t grow, just cry all the time.” “A wheal in the eye [inflamed eye]” was another, also all kinds of hemorrhage. “Botts in horses?” I asked. “Oh, yes, often cured them and burns and cuts of all kinds.” She could always blow the fire out. The practice of treating burns by words, blowing, and movements of the hands, is very general in the mountains, and I have always been able to trace it to German origin. Words often used are these: “Clear out, brand, but never in. Be thou cold or hot, thou must cease to burn. May God guard thy blood, thy flesh, thy marrow, and thy bones, and every artery, great and small. They all shall be guarded and protected in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” Erysipelas can be cured by taking a red hot brand from the fire, and passing it three times over the person’s face, saying the words. This ordeal by fire was not fancied by some of the patients, so my witch told me; she sometimes put coals on a shovel, and waved it over the face, saying: “Three holy men went out walking, They did bless the heat and the burning, They blessed that it might not increase, They blessed that it might quickly cease, And guard against inflammation and mortification In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” My witch was especially proud of her ability to stop hemorrhages, and here comes in the absent treatment. She said it was not necessary for her to see the patients; they might be far away. Only the first name must be known and pronounced exactly, also the side of the body from which the blood came, the right or left side; this was essential. She always stopped it. Not long before I talked with her, she had been called between midnight and morning to go to a young man some miles away, who was bleeding severely.

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He had had a number of teeth extracted, and when the messenger left was “pretty near dead;” nothing stopped the blood. She asked for the necessary information (his name, and which side of the mouth was bleeding), then told the messenger to go back; she would “try for it.” When he reached home, the bleeding had stopped, and when she inquired the time of relief, found it was just after she had said her words. Two formulas for stopping bleeding are: On Christ’s grave grows three roses; The first is kind, The second is valued among rulers, The third stops blood. Stop, blood, thou must, and, wound, thou must heal, In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Another charm: As soon as cut, say, “Blessed wound, blessed hour, blessed be the day on which Christ was born. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” After my second or third visit to the gentle witch, who was pretty, rosy, and plump, she told me how she had learnt to “try for it.” When as a child she had been adopted by an aunt who had married a “German man,” and he had taught her how to use the words, how to speak them, how to move her hands (much value is attached to the movements of the hands), and, dying, bequeathed to her his precious book. She showed me the book, which had been translated from the German in 1820. The preface stated that the translator had put it into English greatly against his wife’s wish, but he was old, he had no one to leave his book to, and he did not wish his wonderful knowledge to die with him, and accordingly translated it into English, which was generally spoken about him. My witch would not part with her book. No, she must leave it to her daughter. She could not sell it; money could not buy it. If she had no daughter, she would give it to me, but could not sell it. I might study it all I wanted, but she could not part with it.

CURING A BEWITCHED COW Tradition Bearer: “Grandmother” Eiler Source: Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 39.

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Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: German American

Remedies for common ailments, whether natural or supernatural, are known not just to specialists but to many members of the community, as this personal experience narrative attests. Ferula asafetida was also known as “devil’s dung” due to a strong offensive odor. It was used to ward off illness and, in this tradition, to thwart witches. The supernatural attack on an animal or person motivated by envy is a widely distributed belief.

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hen Grandmother Eiler was young she had a cow of her own raising, of which she was very proud. One evening at milking time, a certain woman passed through the barnyard, stopped, and looked the cow all over. “I was foolish enough to tell her all about the cow, how gentle she was, how much milk she was giving, and all that, and she said I certainly had a fine cow. Well, the next morning that cow couldn’t stand on her feet, and there she lay in the stable till father came home from the mountain, where he was cutting wood. He said it was all plain enough, when I told him everything, but he wondered I hadn’t had better sense. However, he knew just what to do. He rubbed the cow all over with asafoetida, saying words all the time. And the next day, when I went into the barn, there she stood on her four legs, eating like a hound. Witches can’t stand assafoetida.”

BINDING A DOG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 44. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: German American

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This personal experience narrative illustrates the practice of sympathetic magic by the folk group. Just as the knife was driven into the stake, the dog was “bound” (or staked) to his spot behind the house.

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he year 1899, though a good apple year, was an off one for peaches. But some friends of mine contrived to get a taste at least, which was more than the most of us had. Coming home late one night, these young men passed a place where the only peaches in the neighborhood were said to be. They all “felt for peaches,” as their peculiar idiom has it, and the coincidence of opportunity with capacity struck them all. But the owner of the peaches was like-wise the owner of a savage dog, that, howling as he prowled, seemed to realize that eternal vigilance was the price of peaches. But one of the party bethought him how to lay the dog. He took his pocket-knife and drove the blade into a stake of the stakeand-rider fence, saying three times, “Dog, keep your mouth shut until I release you.” In the language of an eye-witness, “That dog nearly tore his toe-nails off getting to the back of the house. And there he stayed, with never a word out of him, until we had all the peaches we wanted. Of course, we only took a few to eat. As Jake pulled the knife out, the dog flew around the house again, raging like mad, and we made good time down the road!”

OUT OF HER SKIN Tradition Bearer: Helen Seeney Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 209. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The belief that witches slip out of their skins (and, in some cases, replace it with that of another species) is cross-culturally distributed; in

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the United States, for example, it is held by African Americans in the South, European Americans in the Northeast, and Native Americans in the Southwest. The idea that salt is a powerful substance to ward off or destroy evil is similarly well-known.

T

here was a man, an’ he had a wife, an’ everybody said she was a witch. They would complain ’bout the nightime they would hear a hollerin’ an’ say it was a witch. So this ol’ man he wanted to find out whether his wife really was a witch. So he stayed awake one night to watch her. So she got up ’bout twelve o’clock o’night, an’ she shook herself, an’ her skin all came off. So he was watchin’ all the time. An’ after she went out, he found the skin all fixed up like a person sittin’ in the corner. So he got up an’ takin’ her skin an’ filled it full o’ salt. So when the ol’ woman came round about four o’clock in the mornin’, an’ she went to put her skin on, an’ she pulled an’ pulled, an’ so she got it half way on an’ couldn’t get it any further. So de ol’ man he jumped up, an’ he frightened her so, she fell down dead with her skin half way on.

OUT OF THEIR SKINS Tradition Bearer: Helen Seeney Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Tales from Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 209–10. Date: 1917 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

Both this legend and the preceding legend, “Out of Her Skin,” were collected from Helen Seeney. The belief in witches slipping out of their skins to do mischief remains constant across both narratives. This tale, however, adds additional details: the means by which witches remove

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their skins, the belief that witches enter and leave rooms via keyholes, and the shape taken by the flying witch.

O

nce was a man and a woman, and they was both witches. And once they was out one night and didn’t have no place to go. And so they went to some man and woman’s house. And they give ’em a place to stay for de night. So round about twelve o’clock the old woman got up an’ she rubbed her skin, and her skin all fell off. And the man did the same. So when she got ready to go out, she puts a white cap on her head, an’ she said, “I cast away.” And he said, “I after you.” And so they went out, an’ they went to some man’s store. And they went in there to take things, and they made a bargain they would divide even up. So after they got ’em, the ol’ woman seemed to think the of man was takin’ more than what belonged to him. So when she got ready to go, she wanted to punish him. And she didn’t know no other way, so she snatched this white cap off his head. And she said, “I cast away.” An’ he said, “I after you.” But he forgot he didn’t have his cap on his head, so he couldn’t get out. So de nex’ mornin’, when de man came down to the store, he found the ol’ man couldn’t get out thro’ the keyhole. When they found him, he didn’t have no skin on him. The man said a man like that didn’t have no business to be livin’ in the world, so they was going to have him hung. So they had this man all in the wagon to take him to be hung. So they looked up in the sky, an’ they seen something flyin’. Looked like a big bird, yet too large to be a bird. So what they thought to be a bird lit down on this wagon what the man was in, and it was the ol’ woman. So she put this white cap on this ol’ man’s head, an’ she said, “I cast away,” an’ he said, “I after you.” And they both got away free. That’s all.

THE SNAKE-WIFE Tradition Bearer: Young African American woman Source: Bergen, Fanny D. “Two Witch Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 68–69. Date: 1899

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Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The motif of the animal spouse is not unique to African American folktales. For example, in the present volume, the tale “Rose” (a variant of “Beauty and the Beast,” AT425C) shows the animal spouse in a benevolent aspect (p. 50). When the shape-shifting spouse is encountered in African American tradition, however, the character is malevolent. The snake-wife is not explicitly labeled as a witch, but the same defense, salt, is used against both witches and the snake-wife.

O

nce there was a man that had a snake for a wife. But he didn’t know she was a snake, till one day one of his friends said to him: “Do you know you got a snake for a wife? She don’t look like a snake, looks like a woman: but she is a snake, and I’ll tell ye how I know. When she bakes bread she always bakes two batches, some for you that’s got salt in it, an’ some for herself that ain’t got any in. Now if ye want to ketch her, I’ll tell ye how to do. You jest put a pinch of salt into the bread she makes fer herself.” So he watched his chance and put in the salt, and sure ’nuff, when she ate a piece o’ that bread she turned into a snake, and run up the chimney fast as she could go. And when the other man see her do that he jest hollered, “Make a big fire, an that’ll kill her sure.” So they made a big fire right quick, and that killed her.

THE DOE WITH A RING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Cross, Tom Peete. “Folk-Lore from the Southern States.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 251–55. Date: 1909 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

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The appearance of a wound on the body of a witch that corresponds to a wound inflicted on a suspicious animal is a common means of identifying a shape-shifter in legends and ordinary folktales. The weapon used to inflict the wound, like the rifle loaded with “four-pence ha’penny cut into four parts” is often described as extraordinary.

W

itches have the power of assuming the forms of various lower animals. I heard from an old negro woman in Norfolk, Virginia, of a shopkeeper who had a personal experience with a witch. His mother-inlaw practiced the black art. The family lived in rooms above the store, and one morning the proprietor found the old lady crouching down in the form of a buzzard in the corner of the shop. He kept the bird till it changed into its proper human shape. The following story, which I heard in Smithfield, Virginia, from the old negro woman mentioned above, is of considerable interest as suggesting a wellknown cycle of mediaeval stories. A witch, who became enamored of a man on a neighboring estate, changed herself into a doe and appeared at the “hog-feeding place.” The man shot at the deer, but with no effect. On mentioning the occurrence, he was instructed to load his gun with a four-pence ha’penny cut into four parts. This he did, and succeeded in shooting off one of the animal’s feet. In the foot he found a ring, which he recognized as belonging to the woman. Meeting her afterwards, he asked to see the hand on which she usually wore the ring. She at first evaded the request, but on being pressed, revealed the fact that one of her hands was missing.

WOMAN CAT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 283–84. Date: ca. 1899 Original Source: Virginia

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National Origin: African American

The existence of multiple variants of this tale suggests that it is a significant local legend in the community of performance. It is, in fact, a European tale that has been adopted by African American narrators. The shape-shifting and wounding motifs seen in the previous witch narratives from this region appear in both variants included below. Variant B is the more elaborate of the two, and the fact that the cat interferes with the reading not just of any book but the Bible is worth noting.

Variant A

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ong, long ago there lived an old miller. His family was very small. There was no one but him and his wife alone. This old man was not very rich, and had to work very hard to save what he had. His mill was the greater part of his property. He ran it day and night, or the larger part of the night. His wife was an old witch, and would come to the mill every night while this old man was there. She came in the form of a cat. The old man would stop his mill after everybody was gone with their meal. He would spend the other part of the night reading. This cat would come every night and get in his lap. Sometimes the cat would not let him read, she would make so much noise. The old man was very tired of her. One day he was telling one of his friends about the cat, how it acted. This friend called himself very wise. So he said that it was the miller’s wife. This friend told him how he could prove that it was his wife. The miller was told to cut off one of the cat’s paws; and if it was his wife, it would be her finger. The miller laughed at his friend, but he did as he was told. The cat came in that night as usual, and sat in the miller’s lap. The miller began playing with her; and while he was playing, he slipped out his knife and cut off one of her paws. The cat left the mill as quick as she could. The miller put the paw in his pocket, and it turned into a finger. The miller went home the next morning, and found his wife in bed claiming she was sick.

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Variant B

O

nce upon a time there was a man whose wife was a witch, and he owned a grist-mill. He employed a man to keep the mill. Every night this keeper would light his candle and read his Bible. After a few nights a cat would come in and get upon the table and put out the light. Finally the old mill-keeper became enraged, and cut the cat’s left paw off. The cat hurried out on three legs. As soon as the man cut off the paw, it became a hand, upon which was a beautiful ring. On it was the name of his employer’s wife. The next morning the old keeper went to the house and asked to see the lady, without explaining his business. The landlord objected, of course, as the lady was ill in bed. Then the man drew from his pocket this hand, and told the full story. The husband looked at the ring and knew it. Then he carried the man into his chamber, and told her that this man wanted to see her. The man wanted to shake her hand. She refused. Then he took from his pocket this hand and ring. Her husband was there, and she knew he would not want her any more. So she got up out of the bed and began to plan for her departure. She ordered a boy to go to the store and bring her two tin plates, but not to put his tongue to them; if so, he would break her craft. The boy got the plates and did not fail to put his tongue to them. The witch took the plates, placed them to her side, and became a bird. She took her flight; and, after getting a few rods in the air, the plates fell off, leaving her without wings: hence she fell to the ground and smashed into bits. These bits became moles, and burrowed in the ground.

THE BROTHERS WHO MARRIED WITCHES Tradition Bearer: Young African American woman Source: Bergen, Fanny D. “Two Witch Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 68. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

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The inclusion of a variant of the tale of the miller and witch wife at the end of this narrative attests to the plot’s popularity throughout the MidAtlantic region. The flight and escape of the first brother’s wife is reminiscent of “Out of Their Skins” (p. 335).

O

nce there was a man who kept a store, and his wife was a witch, but he didn’t know it. They kept having things stolen from the store, and couldn’t find out who took them. It was really the clerk that stole them, and the storekeeper’s wife always helped him to get away, for after he’d stolen anything she’d say, “Over the woods and over the water, follow me.” And then he’d fly off with her to some safe place, where he could hide the things, and then fly back to the edge of the town, and from there he’d walk to the store, so he couldn’t never be caught. At last the storekeeper watched one night, and caught the clerk stealing, and they was going to hang him for it. But when he was on the gallows, the witch came along and said, “Off the gal-lows, and over the water, follow me.” And so he got off clear. The storekeeper had a brother that had a wife that was a witch, too. This brother was a miller, and he had a heap of trouble about getting any one to tend the mill nights, because the men he’d get would either get scared away, or else if they stayed they surely got killed. Anyhow, the miller got one man that said he wasn’t afraid to stay and watch, if they’d give him a sword and a butcher-knife. So they gave them to him, and he lighted a row of lights, and took his sword and his knife and laid down to watch. Pretty soon in came a lot of black cats, “miaou, miaou,” and one of them began to go around and pat out the lights with her paw. The man, he got up and cut at her with the sword, and cut off her paw, and then they all ran out and left him. He found a hand lying there and picked it up, and it had a gold ring on it, like one the miller’s wife wore. In the morning the miller’s wife was sick, and they sent the man that watched for the doctor. When the doctor came, he found her in bed in a great deal of misery, and he asked her to let him feel her pulse. She put out her left hand to him, and kept her right hand all the time under the bed-clothes. The doctor, he asked her to put out her right hand, and when he got hold of it he found it was cut off. And that week she died.

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TRAPPING A HAG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: “Beliefs of Southern Negroes Concerning Hags.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 66–67. Date: 1894 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

“Hag-craft” refers to a belief in the “night hag,” an individual who can travel in body or spirit to torment a victim at night. See “New Hampshire Witches” (p. 112) for a general discussion of the belief. The following legend functions as a belief tale.

T

here is another way by which suspicions of hag-craft may be proved or disproved. A neighbor comes to see you whom you suspect. Would you be certain in regard to the matter, give your visitor a seat near the fire, and then, when she is not looking, steal quietly up behind her and stick a fork into the floor under her chair. By this means you have pinned her hag-spirit to the floor, and the old woman cannot or will not withdraw her bodily presence until the fork is withdrawn. This story told by a young woman of my acquaintance illustrates this method of identifying a hag. She remembers how, when she was a little girl, her mother was greatly troubled by the nightly visitation of one of these tormentors. She finally fixed her suspicion upon a neighbor, and told her children that she believed old Aunt So-and-So was at the bottom of all her troubles. Accordingly the children, with the desire of verifying their mother’s suspicions, took council together and arrived at a conclusion. The next time old aunty called, she found a nice comfortable chair awaiting her close by the fire, and an urgent invitation to sit down in it. As soon as she became absorbed in conversation, one of the children stole up behind her and stuck a steel fork into the floor under the chair. Aunty had only run in for a few minutes, but she spent the morning. The day moved on, and was near its

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The Mid-Atlantic | Keeping Off Witches

end, but still aunty sat in the chair by the fire, never offering to stir. She was the hag, and her spirit was pinned down to the floor by that three-tined steel fork. At last the mother, who had been making signs to the children that they must take that fork out, took them aside and told them that, if the fork was not removed at once, they should get a whipping that they would long remember. Under this threat the child who had stuck the fork into the floor came up again behind the chair and drew it out, and the old aunty rose and politely withdrew, leaving behind her a certainty where before there had been suspicion.

KEEPING OFF WITCHES Tradition Bearer: Georgie (African American) Source: Minor, Mary Willis. “How to Keep Off Witches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 76. Date: 1898 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

This series of interconnected personal experience narratives supports belief in “hagging” (see the preceding tale). They supplement the general belief with specific instances and offer advice for coping with this supernatural dilemma.

M

y mother, she knew a woman that was mightily bothered by a witch. Ev’y night, soon as de woman went to bed and turn over on her back, dat witch would come and jump on her and ride her hard, so she couldn’ move. So one night she fix for dat witch. She put pins in de seat of a chair, and when de witch come, she sat right down on de pins. Witches have to sit down befo’ dey can get out de skin; dey can’t ride you long as dey is in dey skin. Well, de witch sat down on de pins, and she stuck fas’. She could n’ get out of her skin, and she could n’ get up out of de chair, and she beg de woman to let her go, and she promise, if she did, she wouldn’ come back no more.

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Den de woman let her go. No ma’m, I ain’t never seen no witch, but I got a horseshoe up over my door. Dey say de witch got to travel all over de road dat horseshoe been ’fo’ she can get in de house, and time she get back ’t would be day. Some folks puts a sifter over de door, and de witch got to count all de holes in dat sifter, and a witch can’t count but five; and when she gets to the five, she jumps through dat hole and is gone. Some folks can see witches better than others. Abby’s son Allan, he went with me one night last fall to sit up with a girl that died, and all along the road he ’d stop and say he saw somethin’, and then he would walk around and say somethin’ was in his path, he couldn’ pass. Sometimes it was a dog, and sometimes it was a man with his head off, but I ain’t seen nothin’, and I ain’t goin’ with him no more.

MARK FLAHERTY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Curtin, Jeremiah. “European Folklore in the United States.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 56–57. Date: 1889 Original Source: Washington DC National Origin: Irish American

The following legend from Irish American tradition provides evidence for the cross-cultural circulation of tales of the hag experience in the Mid-Atlantic region. The phenomenon and belief tales associated with it appear to be universal and have been transmitted for millennia. The onset of an attack in an open field is atypical, but the most important traits are present. Validating devices for this belief tale include elements such as the victim’s full name and testimony by an eyewitness.

T

here was a man named Mark Flaherty, who took a horse to pasture one evening after sunset. He drove to the middle of the field, and while taking the bridle from the horse’s head felt the presence of some one behind,

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just near his shoulder, and heard a voice calling to him. The moment he let the horse go, he turned to see who was speaking. No one. Mark was astonished, for the field was smooth, not a clump of bushes nor a stone in it from one end to the other. There was no hiding-place, yet not a soul was to be seen. The “owner of the voice” had disappeared as if the ground had swallowed him. After waiting a moment, Mark turned to go home, but with the first step he heard a great noise, as if from the flapping of sails and the whistling of wind through the rigging of a great ship in a storm. Mark looked around on every side; there wasn’t a living creature in the field barring the horse and himself. The noise was from an unseen power. Filled with terror, and thinking that his last hour had come, he hurried home, but the noise continued till he entered the house. Mark could hardly breathe; he went to bed but could not sleep, something oppressed him with a weight like that of a heavy man, but no man was there. All night he lay awake, covered with a cold sweat, and in mortal terror from some enemy near at hand. Next morning his hair was perfectly white, though brown the day before. After that evening in the pasture, whenever Mark was out of doors after sunset, he always heard a voice, and saw a man stealing after him, but when he turned straight on this man he disappeared. Mark was so troubled by this, that he stopped going out after sunset; he lost his health, and soon was nothing but skin and bone. At the end of three years, when Mark was at death’s door, an old beggar came to his house, and said, “You must go to the bees, and get honey, enough to anoint yourself from the crown of your head to the sole of your feet. You must leave no part untouched, and you must rub it in well. You must get the first honey of young bees, and get it yourself, for it will not have the power if another gets it for you. The bees go to every flower in the world, and take the good that is in it out of it, and the honey has the virtue of them all; it will cure you and bring back the color to your hair and your face.” Mark got the honey, and spent all one evening in rubbing himself carefully from head to foot, leaving no part untouched. Next morning he was as well as ever, and his hair as brown as it was on the evening he drove the horse to pasture. Mark heard no more voices, and was never again dogged by the twilight spy. The woman who told this story declared that she knew Mark Flaherty before the evening of the voice, when his hair was brown; saw him a couple of days later, when it was white; and again after the honey cure when it was brown a second time.

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VENGEANCE ON A WITCH RIDER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wrenshall, Letitia Humphreys. “Incantations and Popular Healing in Maryland and Pennsylvania.” The Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 268–74. Date: 1901 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: Unavailable

As the following tale illustrates, not all remedies for witch attacks were supernatural. Some, such as this, removed the source of fear by direct means.

I

n November a poor, old woman sitting by her window in her lonely mountain cabin at Big Otter, Clay Co., Virginia was fired on and instantly killed. A man arrested on suspicion confessed to the deed, claiming that at different times during the past three months he had been ridden by her all over Clay and Calhoun counties in witch fashion. On one occasion the old lady’s house appeared to him to be a blacksmith’s forge, and he was compelled to shoe his horse there at night. On a certain time, the witch appeared and told him that “that would be the last time he would ever shoe his horse,” and in a day or two afterward the horse died.

THE CAPTIVE WITCH WIFE Tradition Bearer: Miss K.’s Father Source: Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 40. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: German American

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This legend reveals a more benign side of the night hag. Although a knowledge of laws that govern the witch allows her to be controlled, the narrative demonstrates that she can never be fully “domesticated.”

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iss K.’s father, when a youth in Germany, had a friend whose rest was disturbed by nightmare. At last he concluded that a witch was troubling him, and proceeded to entrap her by stopping up every crevice and keyhole in the room. (Mindful of the fact, of course, that for witches this is law, “where they have entered in, there also they withdraw.”) The next morning he found a beautiful girl cowering in the cupboard. He put her to work as a servant about the house. But eventually, thinking her reformation complete, he married her and lived happily for several years. Sometimes, though, she would sigh, and say she longed to see beautiful France again. One day she was missing, and her little child, just tall enough to reach the keyhole, told how she had removed the stopping for her. She was never seen again, having of course “taken French leave” through the keyhole. The same story is told of a miller in Frederick County (Maryland). He, too, domesticated a witch-maiden, having caught her in the same way. But, years after, he incautiously opened the keyhole, and found himself a grass widower.

WITCH’S APPRENTICE Tradition Bearer: “Aunt” Sarah Source: Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 40–41. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

The following personal experience narrative of acquiring powers associated with hoodoo (African American magical practice) indicates that

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the art of conjuring is more a learned mechanical procedure than a set of powers acquired from entering into an agreement with a supernatural agent. In this way, there is a marked difference between hoodoo and the European concept of witchcraft.

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unt Sarah was very black and very old. She was fond of her pipe. Yes, she learnt to smoke from her mammy, who learnt it from her grandmammy, who was a witch. This grandmother was phthisicky (suffered from consumption), and often called for her pipe at night, as smoking relieved her. It was her granddaughter’s duty to fill her pipe just before going to bed, and also to get up and light it, if necessary. Some nights, though, the grandmother would say, “Guess you need n’t fix my pipe to-night; I don’t reckon I’ll want it,” and on those nights, if the grand-daughter woke up, she found herself alone, and her mother and grandmother gone. One night when grandmother had declined her pipe, she only pretended to be asleep, and saw the two women get the lump of rabbit’s fat off the mantelpiece, rub themselves all over, and say, “Up and out and away we go!” The third time, away they flew up the chimney. She quickly got up, rubbed herself with rabbit’s fat, saying, “Up and about and away we go!” And up and about she went, flying around the room, bumping and thumping herself against wall and rafters until daylight. Her “vaulting ambition” was not repressed, however, by this experience. The next time she observed more closely, and saw that her maternal relatives greased themselves with downward strokes, and said, not “Up and about,” but “Up and out and away we go!” She carefully repeated this procedure, and slipped up the chimney after them. Mammy and grandmammy each took a horse out of the field, leaving nothing for her but a yearling. So she took the yearling and rode gloriously till cock-crow.

DEATH BY CONJURING Tradition Bearer: Julien A. Hall Source: Hall, Julien A. “Negro Conjuring and Tricking.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 242–43.

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Date: 1896 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: European American

Julien A. Hall reports on African American folk belief from an outsider’s perspective in this personal experience narrative. “Tricking” in this context means placing a spell on a victim, but it may also be used as a term for hoodoo practice in general. Another synonym is “conjuration” (or “conjuring”). Although Hall’s attitudes toward African American culture reflect his times, the following tale maintains a relatively detached attitude toward the presentation of the events as he observed them.

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case of conjuring is in progress near my home now, and I will give the main facts in order to show that the superstition, or whatever it should be called, is as strong now as it ever was. I live on a big Virginian plantation, and some five or six negro families have their cabins near the big house, numbering in all about thirty-five people. At the beginning of this year, a likely young negro was hired to wait about the house and drive the carriage. He is about twenty-five years of age, strong, active, and sensible, and, thinking intelligently and originally, altogether an unusually fine specimen and an all-round handy fellow. All during the year we have congratulated ourselves on having such a good servant, as they are rare in this part of the country. Tom is his name, and as soon as he became domesticated in his new home he begun to pay attention to one of the dusky lassies on the place. Susan was much pleased at the notice, was always lively and in a good humor, and on Sundays and church-nights she dressed in her best, in order to complete her conquest of Tom’s affections. But suddenly, for some reason, Tom cooled off and began to cast sheep’s eyes at another girl. Susan lost her high spirits and became gloomy and dejected; she scarcely ever left her mother’s cabin, and seemed heart-broken. But Tom continued as bright and lively as ever, and progressed as well with his second choice as with his first. Presently, however, a change came over him also, and he complained of being sick and having “a misery.” Tom had been taking his meals in the kitchen where Susan’s mother is cook, and we supposed he feared the old cook would trick him, as he requested his mistress to give him rations; this she did, and he began to take

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his meals with one of his married friends on the place. One morning, about a month ago, Tom did not come to his work at the usual time, and later in the day he sent word by another negro that he was sick and had gone to see a doctor; he returned in a day or two, but looked thin and badly, and he soon said that the place did not agree with him and he would go off for a change and try to get better. He was off for ten days, and about a week ago he returned, looking much better, and he said he was now all right. While he was away the last time, we were told that Tom believed that Susan had tricked him, and that he would never get well unless he went a long way off; but seeing him looking so much better, we hoped he would get over his scare and settle down to work. But he soon seemed downcast and drooping again, and two days ago he came to his mistress and told her he would have to leave, that he had no health here, and could never have any, as “some-body had given him some nasty poison stuff that made him sick.” He left last night and has not returned; but his sister came this morning and confirmed what we had heard, that Tom believed Susan had tricked him, and that he would never be well again; she also said that they worked with him all last night, that he was ill and nervous and could not hold himself still. The fact is that the poor fellow is scared nearly to death, and unless he can be “unconjured” he will probably go into a decline and soon die. The foregoing are actual facts that have occurred before me in the time mentioned.

THE SIX WITCHES Tradition Bearer: Burrell, W. S. Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 266–67. Date: 1903 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

Although the following tale in some ways resembles a local legend, the absence of localizing details prevents it from being classified in this way. In some ways the narrative resembles “Witch’s Apprentice” (p. 347) in the use of “mechanical” actions and incantations and the novice’s inept attempts to imitate the experienced witches, for example. This story,

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however, has a sinister conclusion that suggests the considerable power that witches were assumed to command.

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nce upon a time there was a house which was scarcely noticed, that stood just outside of a very famous little village. In this house lived an old lady and her five daughters. The house looked terribly bad outside; but if any one had gone inside of it, they would have found it very different from the outside. The old lady and her five daughters were witches, and it is said that they got all they wanted from the village stores. One afternoon two travelers happened by this house just about sunset, and asked if they might stay all night. The old lady told them they could if they would be satisfied with the place she would give them, as she was not a rich person. The men told her it was all right, just so they were not out of doors. She asked them to come and sit down, she would have them something to eat in a few minutes. So she did. And the two men ate, and then went to bed very soon, for they were very tired from walking so hard. One of them went to sleep very soon after he got into bed; but the other one would not go to sleep, because he thought the old lady and her daughters were up to something. Just as soon as the old lady and the family thought the men were asleep, they reached up the chimney and (each) got an old greasy horn of juice and put to their mouths, then said a few words’ and was gone. The man that was not asleep grew very much frightened for a while, but soon got over it. As soon as he got over his fright, he got up and put on his clothes, and looked for the horns that the old lady and the five daughters used. He succeeded in finding the horns up the chimney. And as soon as he got them, he put one of them in his mouth and said a few words, and out he went. When he stopped, he was in a man’s store in the village, where he found, to his surprise, the old lady and her daughters. He did not know how he got in the store: so he went up to the old lady and began to talk with her, but she gave him no answer. The old lady looked at her daughters, and said a few words which the man could not understand; and out they went, and left the man alone in the store. The man said as near as he could the same things that the old lady said, but could not get out. He would rise up as far as the ceiling of the store and strike his head, but could not get out. When day came, the poor man was so afraid, that he did not know what to do. The clerk of the store came down very soon and unlocked the door. “I have been missing things out of my store for a long time,” replied the clerk, thinking that the man had hidden himself in the store before he closed it the night before.

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“Oh, no!” replied the man. “If you will allow me a chance, I will tell you just how I happened to be here.” So he told the clerk all about it, and also took the clerk to the old lady’s house, where his partner was. When the clerk entered the old lady’s house, he saw several things that he knew he had in his store and had missed them. So he went back to the village, and sent the sheriff after the old lady and her daughters, and let the man go free. When the old lady and her daughters were brought to trial, they were guarded by the sheriff; and when they got ready to pass the sentence on them, they began to sing a little song, which everyone wanted to hear. They sang for about fifteen minutes; and as they sang, they began to move directly upwards until they got so far up in the air that a person could hardly see them, and then disappeared. Those that were guards began to quarrel with each other because one did not shoot and the other did not shoot. So they got mad, and began shooting each other.

BATTLING WITCHES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 42. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: German American

The following belief tales take the form of legends. In the German descended tradition of Maryland the “evil eye” is considered a conscious attack. In some traditions, however, the harm inflicted by an admiring or envious glance may be unintentional. The positive supernatural practices that are used against witches, portrayed in the following tale, are called “trying for” in Maryland (See “Cures of a Maryland Witch,” pp. 330). The techniques seem based in part on sympathetic magic—an image of an individual maintains a sympathy to the individual to the extent that shooting the image will damage the model for that image.

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any stories point to a belief in the evil eye. Children fall sick or cry incessantly after having been admired or caressed by some suspicious person.

The hero of the following tale was surely no faint-heart. The pleasure of a young man’s visit to a young lady was sadly marred by the ill-timed antics of a black cat, which, every night, would appear in the room and fly about from floor to ceiling in the most surprising manner. Sometimes a black squirrel would relieve the cat, but continue the acrobatic performance. All the time there was a terrific accompaniment, as of droves of rats, scratching and scrambling in the walls and under the floor. At last, being properly advised, he provided himself with a pistol and a silver bullet, stopped up the keyhole, and waited. But that night the cat didn’t come back, nor the squirrel, and the powers of darkness no longer interfered with the course of true love. The lady in the case, mindful of her own difficulties, no doubt, now tries for witches with great success. Note that it takes a silver bullet to bring down a witch. You have only to aim at her picture and the ball will take effect wherever she may be. And as I was advised, “If you can’t get hold of her photograph, just draw off her profile on the end of the barn, and shoot at that.” Your silver bullet is easily made by beating up a silver quarter or ten-cent piece.

MATE TO THE DEVIL Tradition Bearer: Betty Wiley Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 282–83. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The following legend differs from other examples from the Mid-Atlantic region included in this collection by virtue of the fact that the witch’s power is attributed to her alliance with the Devil.

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nce there was a woman who could do anything she wished to do. If she didn’t like some one, she would speak to him, and in that way hurt him; and if one of her friends should get cross with another person that she didn’t like, she would throw something on the ground and make something that belonged to that person fall dead. In that way she threw a dipper of water on the ground for spite to a man, and made one of his fine horses fall dead in the street. This woman was said to be a mate to the Devil, and he could give her power to hurt any one that she didn’t like or got cross with. She had power to kill if she would only speak when she was angry. There were a great many rooms to her house; and in one of the rooms up in the fourth story was a dark room, always with a blue candle in there burning, and an old man said to be the Devil. This man stayed in there always, and never came out. The way he was seen was by a very small window. He at length opened it, and an old woman was going by, when she saw him. This story is what she told.

SOUL OR SOLE Tradition Bearer: William Herbert Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 282. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

In African American tradition, secular music was commonly regarded as sinful. Folk belief claimed that one could acquire musical talent by going to the crossroads at midnight and selling one’s soul to the Devil. The best known legends concerning this belief grew up around blues musician Robert Johnson (1911–1938) and alleged that he had acquired his talent by this means. In the following tale the female protagonist acquires her talent but tricks the “master” (presumably the Devil, the master trickster) out of his price by means of a simple pun.

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The Mid-Atlantic | Soul or Sole

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nce upon a time there lived a girl. She wanted to know any kind of dance, and sing any kind of song. One day while she was alone, a man stood before her. He said, “You are always thinking about dancing and singing.” He said, “If you want to, I will make you (able to do) so as long as you want to. You must give your soul to my master when your time is up.” “I should like to be with him for twenty-eight years,” she said. The time rolled by quickly. When her time was up, she heard a loud noise, saying, “I am coming! I am coming! I am coming after you! According to your word, I am coming after you!” The master had come after her soul. She did not want to give him her real soul. She took up an old shoe-sole and threw it at him. The ugly, man-like thing did not know the difference, and he was contented.

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SECULAR TALES JUDGMENT DAY Tradition Bearer: W. T. Anderson Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 305. Date: 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The following joke comments on the insincerity of conversion experiences triggered by duress.

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ncle Sam and Pat were out hunting one night, when, about twelve o’clock, there came up a terrible storm. It grew worse, and there came a crack of lightning. Pat got up in the tree; but Uncle Sam thought the day of judgment was surely coming and he knelt down and began to pray. He wanted Pat to pray, too; but Pat didn’t believe in the day of judgment, and wouldn’t. Then there came another crack of lightning, which made Pat drop out of the tree; and he fell down on his knees, too, and began to pray, “O Lord! If judgment day is coming, save my soul, if I’ve got one!”


GOING TO HEAVEN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 294–95. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The tale repertoires of the former slave-holding regions contain a significant number of tales pitting master against slave. In many of these jokes, the master is outwitted by a clever bondsman. In the present case, the protagonist never gets the advantage and finally, due to the master’s sadistic practical joke, loses the faith that had been his last hope. As such, the tale offers comments on both the master and the religion that the master advocates.

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nce there was an old slave who prayed to the Lord that he would take him home, soul and body. At last, one day when his master was gone off, he told his wife that next day he would bid the world good-bye, for the Lord had made known to him that he was going to take him up, soul and body. So next day he went out to a tree where he often went, and prayed, “O Godie! Take me to the place where people don’t have to work! Master give five hundred lashes every night and morning.” His master was out in the bushes, and heard everything that was said. So he went to town and bought a line and windlass. He took the line and climbed to the top of the tree. By and by the old slave came back, and prayed, “O Lord! Take me to heaven, where massa can’t beat me any more! Send me a line from heaven!” He looked up, and there was the line. He took hold of the rope and put it around his neck. He said, “Lord, Ise ready to go.” Now his master began to draw him up. The slave said, “Wait, Lord! Let me down again!” He let him down.

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The Mid-Atlantic | The Lord and Langton

He then said, “God, I ready! Let me go again!” and he started up again. Then he said, “O Lord! let me down again, and get some moss hay and put it on my neck!” He put the hay on his neck. Then he said, “I go now, I know. Farewell, everything!” He left the ground. He did very well till he got up about nine hundred feet, then he got to whirling around. He said, “O Lord! let me back!” but his master did not let him back. Ile said, “O God! don’t you hear me? Let me back!” His master then got so ticklish until he turned the windlass loose, and down he fell. When he reached the ground, he had no breath left. He lay there like a dead man for a long time. When he came to his right sense, he got up and ran home. When he got home, he said, “Alice, I want you tell me what you praying to God for. You just as well pray to the Devil: for God made known to me that He was going to take me where He is; and when He got me way up, He let me fall back to the ground. I ain’t goin’ pray no mo’, an’ I don’ want to see you pray no more. You is just losing your time, and you might get more sleep. I don’ want see you at such a thing again.”

THE LORD AND LANGTON Tradition Bearer: Pratt Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 295. Date: 1899 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The joke “The Lord and Langton” shares with “Going to Heaven” the theme of a practical joke based on an answered prayer. In the current narrative, however, the tricksters are not identified as white, no physical pain is inflicted on a socially powerless victim, and Langton foolishly tries to deceive God or his emissaries. As a result, this narrative offers a

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comic insight into human nature rather than a bitter comment on the social system of the region.

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nce there was an old man named Langton; and whenever he prayed, he would say, “O Lord! please come and take poor Langton home out of his suffering!” Every night he did that, people began to notice it: so some mischievous boys said that they would try his faith. One night they came to the old man’s door, and waited until the old man began to pray. When he got to his old saying, one of them knocked on the door, “Bam, bam, bam!” The old man stopped praying and listened, and no one said anything. After a while he began again; and soon he said, “O Lord! please come and take poor Langton home out of his sufferings!” One of the boys knocked on the door, “Blip, blip, blip!” The old man stopped again, and asked, “Who is that?” One of them replied, “The Lord has come to take poor Langton home out of his sufferings.” The man jumped off his knees and blew the light out, then with a very excited voice exclaimed, “Langton has been dead and gone a fortnight!”

TO TORMENT ALREADY Tradition Bearer: Wesley D. Elam Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 310–11. Date: 1920 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

The joke that follows is a “John and Master” tale updated to comment on the inequities of the U.S. Army during World War I, which perpetu-

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The Mid-Atlantic | Rank

ated many of the worst aspects of civilian life for African Americans. John, as usual, triumphs by the punch line.

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white sergeant and a white corporal and John died and went to heaven. Said, of course, the sergeant was in front, and the corporal behind, and John in the rear of all. Sergeant went up to St. Peter’s gate, and St. Peter asked him what was he doing there. Said he came to heaven. St. Peter asked him, “What have you done to be permitted to the Kingdom of Heaven?” Said he’d been over the top sev’el times and killed sev’el Germans. So St. Peter told him, said, “I’m sorry, but you ain’t done enough to be admitted to the Kingdom of Heaven.” So he sent him to Torment. So up went the corporal. He asked the corporal what he’d done to deserve the right to the Kingdom of Heaven. He told him he had captured a machinegun, won a croix de guerre and a distinguished service-cross. So he told him he was sorry, but he couldn’t be permitted on that. This time the colored feller walked up; and he said, “I walked up and told St. Peter the truth. Asked me what I’d done to be admitted. I tol’ him I’d been down there at Brest for the last eighteen months in a stevedore regiment. “He tol’ me, ‘Come on up, John! You been to Torment already.’”

RANK Tradition Bearer: Wesley D. Elam Source: Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 311. Date: 1920 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

As a naive character, the private simultaneously shows his ignorance of the military hierarchy and the failure of that system to educate him in its

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nuances. Ultimately, however, the African American private is the victim (albeit the comic one) of another system over which he has no control.

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out a colored private doing guard-duty. When he firs’ went to camp, sergeant had entire charge of him, knew nothing about any other officers. Considered sergeant highest man in the army. One night sergeant said, “Have you seen the colonel anywhere ’round here to-night?” “No, I haven’ seen any colonel.” He was gone for few minutes, came back again. “Have you seen the colonel ’round here?” “No, I haven’ seen any colonel.” Little later an officer came up to him. He hollered to him. “Is that the way you salute an officer? I’m the colonel of this post.” He brought his gun down to present. Said, “You the colonel of this post? You better go to that guard-house and see the sergeant. He’s been looking for you all night. He’ll give you the devil when he sees you.”

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Appendix: Original Versions

NORTHEAST Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird Tradition Bearer: Charles Penny Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “A West Indian Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 442–43. Date: 1919 Original Source: New York National Origin: African American (Trinidad)

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ne time there was a little girl called Babe, and Babe was livin’ at she nenine (godmother). One day Babe did want to see she muma and she pupa, so she asked she nenine to le’ she go to see them. Now, on the way dere was a very deep river, an’ this day dere was a big shower of rain an’ the whole place was covered over with water. When Babe reached the river an’ couldn’ get over, she begin cryin’. Den a mama glau (mermaid) came up an’ asked Babe what she was cryin’ fo’. Babe tell she that she want to go over an’ see she muma an’ she pupa, but she couldn’ get over de river. De mama glau tell she, “I will take you over de river, but you musn’ let nobody know how you get over.” So Mama Glau carry Babe over de river. Now you know Kiliburi (humming-bird) got very light ears. Mama Glau call Kilibwi and sen’ him to listen to hear if Babe would tell anybody how she got


over de ’iver. Babe reached de house, an’ everybody was surprise; an’ dey wanted to fin’ out how she got over, because dey all did know dat de river did wash away de whole place. Babe keep on tellin’ dem dat she cross it she self. But dey wouldn’ believe she. Den in a easy way she tell dem, “Mama Glau cross me.” Kilibwi was very far, but he hear Babe, an’ he begin singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Kilibwi come right up to de house, singin’, Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Now, when Babe was goin’ back, she muma an’ she pupa know dat if Kilibwi reach Mama Glau firs’ an’ tell she that Babe give out de secret, Mama Glau would kill Babe, so dey pick a lot of flowers an’ scatter dem in de road. Kilibwi come down, singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” But he was so greedy, he had to stop to suck these flowers. So Babe reach de river before Kilibwi, an’ she tell Mama Glau dat she didn’ tell anybody how she get over. So Mama Glau cross she over again. Now, Mr. Kilibwi come down, singin’, “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” So Mama Glau says to Kilibwi, “Get on me right shoulder an’ sing dat song.” He sing it on de right shoulder. She say, “Get on me left shoulder.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” She say, “Get on me right ear.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.”

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Appendix: Original Versions | The Northeast

She say, “Get on me left ear.” “Casa bilau bilau bil I Babe qui toyai Mama Glau.” Den she say, “Get in de palm of me lef’ han’.” An’ after he get t’rough singin’, Mama Glau hit him one slap an’ grin’ him up. An’ de foam you see on de river whenever de rain fall is from Kilibwi. De people kill Mama Glau an’ buil’ a bridge over de river.

The Birds Take Back Their Feathers; The Insult Midstream; Playing Dead Tradition Bearer: Matheus Dias Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Ten Folktales from the Cape Verde Islands.” Journal of American Folklore 30 (1917): 231–35. Date: 1917 Original Source: Rhode Island National Origin: African (Cape Verde)

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r’ un lob’ e un tubinh’. Tenba un’ balh’ na lheu. Tubinh’ ungana Lob’. Ell’ fral cuma er’ fest’ a ca balh’. Lob’ pedi pas’ pa’ pistal penn’ pa’ ell’ pode ba es’ fest’ na lheu. Pas’ dal penn’. Ell’ ba lheu. Nobe hor’, balh’ cunga. Lob’ staba cu raib’ pamode é balh’ e ca fest’. Lob’ purgunta Tubinh’ se ca ten nad’ qi cume? Tubinh’ raspondel, “Nao, es’ é ca fest’, é balh’.” Prumer’ qi balh’ é Corb’. Lob’ cu raib’ cunga cant’— “Corb’ pret’! Bu cuda ma bo é gent’. Bo é bunit’ Se bu ca to staba So to grabata milh’ de gent’ na cob’.” Corb’ tumal se penn’. Sugund’ sahi to balh’ é Manelob’. Lob’ cant’— yes” Manelob’!

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Bu cuda ma bo é gent’. Bo é bunit’ Se bu ca to staba So to bisia burr’ cu cabr’ mort’ pa’ bu cume.” Manelob’ tumal se penn’. Out’o to balha é passadinh’. Lob’ cant’— yes” Passadinh’! Bu cuda ma bo é gent’. Bu ca olh’ pa’ qel bu boc’ brumelh’ Se ca hera pa’ bu boc’ Bo hera bunit’.” Pasadinh’ tumal se penn’. O’t’o to balha é Chinchirot’— “E bu Chinchirot’ Bu cuda ma bo é gent’. Bu ca rapara pa’ bu bariga grand’ a pe dalgad’ Se ca hera pa’ qel Bo hera bunit’.” Chinchirot’ tumal se penn’. Out’o to balha é Sotador. Lob’ cant’— “E bu Sotador! Bu cuda ma bo é gent’. Si bu ca to staba traz de galinh’ de gent’ tud’ hor’ Bo hera bunit’.” Sotador turnal se penn’ que ell’ daba ell’. Out’o to balha e Galinh’ de Gine. Lob’ cant’— “Bu Galinh’ de Gine! Bu cuda ma bu é gent’, Ma’ bu ca rapara pa’ qel bu cabeg’ sec’. Se ca pa bu cabeg’ Bo hera bunit’.” Galinh’ tumal se penn’. Seis hor’ de palmanhan, balh’ caba’, tud’ ’es ba pa’ ses cas’. ’es dixa Lob’ ell’ so’ na lheu. Lob’ cunga to chora. Nes hor’ ben to passa Tia Peix’ Caball’. Ell’ purgunta Lob,’ “Cusa qi bu ten?”—“Pas’ pistan ses penn’, un ben balh’, ora qi manxe, ’es tuma ses penn’, ’es ba, ’es dixan’li me so’.” Peix’ Caball’ fral, “Se bu ca hera malbad’ un to lebabo pa’ terr’.” Lob’ prometel, “Se nha leban pa’ nha terr’, un to paga nha ben.”—“Bon, salta na nha cost’.” E peix’

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cunga to nada’ pa’ terr’. Na metad’ de ca.minh’, Lob’ fra, “O qi grand’ mama! O qi un chiga terr’, un to rincal un del for’.” Peix’ Caball’ purguntal, “Cusa qi bu fra?” “Nada, un fra ma bu é nadader’.” ’Sim qi ’es chiga terr’, Lob’ bua na terr’, ell’ rincal un mama sqerd’ de Peix’ Caball’. Peix’ Caball’ fica detad’ na prai’, to chora. Tubinh’ ben to passa, ell’ purguntal cusa qi ell’ sta chora’. Peix’ Caball’ fra Tubinh’, “Un tras Lob’ de qel lheu, ’sim qi ell’ chiga terr’ ell’ rincan nha mama.” Tubinh’ fral, “Se bu to pagan algun cusa, un to po nha Ti’ Lob’ dent’ de bu mon.”—“Tia Peixe Caball’ fral, “Se bu po Lob’ na nha mon, un to pagabo cusa qi bu pedin.” Tubinh’ ba pa’ cas’. Ell’ chiga pert’ de cas’, ell’ chuma, se mulhe’ rixo. Ell’ fral, “Panh’ fac’, machad’, tagara, nu ba pa’ bera mar’ mata’ un bac’ qi sta la detad’.” Lob’ staba pert’, ell’ obi, ell’ fra, “Tubinh’, qel bac’ é de me a ca de bo, un dixal Ii. Se bu po mon nel, un to dabo un tir’.” Antan Lob’ fra se mulhe’, “Panh’ nha fac’, machad’, tagara, nu ba pa’ prai’.” Ell’ chiga prai’, ell’ subi riba de Peix’. Caball’ pel mata’. Peix’ Caball’ pegal na un pern’, lebal pa’ mar’. Mulhe’ de Lob’ bira to chora, Lob’ chumal, “Mulher, ca bu chora, ell’ sta brinca cu me, ell’ ca to fasen nada.” Peix’ Caball’ murgulha cu ell’ pa’ fund’. ’es ben ribs, Lob’ olha mulher to chora. Ell’ fral, “Ca bu chora, ell’ sta brinca, cu me. Se ell’ ba fund’, ell’ ca ben mas, antan chora.” Peix’ Caball’ murgulha mas fund’. Lob’ quas’ fogad’. Ell’ chuma se mulher, ell’ fral, “Chora, ago é hor’ de chora’, es’ éé ca brincadera.” Peix’ cre ranjal. Ell’ murgulha cu ell’ pa’ fund’. E ’li é fim de ’Nho’ Lob’.

Di Granni Shdil Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Hoffman, W. J. “Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans III.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 192–202. Date: 1889 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: German American

W

i di Granni Shdı¯l do¯d war, hen si `n sil’wer fär”d`l in ia luft’ro¯r gfunńa un `s hot ke¯sa das si da˘rćh des u¯ńa tswai´wel farshdikt´ is. An’ihau, ¯r ı kshpuk is als an al´la tsaita in der nacht im haus rum gangá. Si hen `s als di shte¯k of un ab härä gen, di di´ra sin als len of un tsu¯ gangá, and in fa˘rshı¯´dena we¯´gha hots ´s ˘a´rik unhe¯mlich gemacht´ fa˘r dı¯wı¯

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im haus gewânt´ hen, fa˘r al das si gewist’ hen das ken kfor drin war far di ur’sach das di alt Gran’ni `n gu’ti al’ti sel gewest´ wa˘. ˘ns fun den mitglı¯´der fun ärä famı¯lía das mol därt gewänt´ hen wâr `n ćE halb´sinich me¯d`l, das di ainbilda grikt hot tsu ärä wo¯’ret së’ghärn tsä ge¯n we¯´ghä dem kshpuk. Di wô’ret se¯’ghärn hot ärä ksât si sot he¯m gên, al dı¯´ ra im haus, ânńa ¯en’ni, tsu mach’a, und derno¯’ im dunk”la tsa hok’ka and tsa wâr’ta färs kshpuk wid’ter tsa kum’ma, and der âghäblik’ das es an der shte¯k ân’fangt tsa shtai’gha sot si ha˘r’icha and di drep’pa tse¯’la. No, wans kshpuk fär’tich wär dro’wa mit em rum dap’pa und es wär wid’ter am runner kum’ma, sot si em no¯ ge¯n und hin’ersich runner kum’ma and so¯ fı¯l drep’pa tse¯la das es kshpuk gemacht’ hot wi `s nuf gangä is. Des hot `s me¯d”l gedu¯’n fun end tsu end; und tsait sele¯é¯m is der al’tä Gran’ni it kshpuk nim’mi ke¯rt war’rä.

Der Tshe¯k Shtraus Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Hoffman, W. J. “Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans III.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 193–94. Date: 1889 Original Source: Pennsylvania National Origin: German American

D

er Tshe¯k Shtraus hot als der nâ all ’ should be ´ma kat a’rik ä’werglä’wish tsa sain, und hot in di hex’a gegläbt’.

Shpo¯t en nacht war är mol of `m he¯m’we¯k fum shpär’iyä-un är hot tsim’lich wait tsa gel, kat—hot är gedenkt’ wan är i’wer di fel’der gengt ke¯mt är he¯m eb di âlta ma˘r’iyets uf wä’rä. Ens fun dä felder das er darich tsä gen kot hot wä’rä uf’gewaksa mit hek’ka un där’na, un är is net wait där’ich nain kum’ma eb di rânka `n hill kshmis’sa hen. No hot ar grad geglâbt’ das di hex’a färur’sacht hen, un är hot of en’ mol geglâbt das är si dish’dera kent wan är i’na wen’ich du¯’wak ge¯bt, so hot är mo¯l en shdik hill gshmis’sa un is wid’der an’fanga tsa shpring’a. Är is net wait kum’ma eb är wid’der gshtärtst is, and wi är wid’der of gshtan’na is hot är noch emol’ en shdik du¯’wak hill gshmis’sa fa˘r di hexa’ tsarik’ hal’ta. Der Tshe¯k war im An’fang gu¯t bewârt’ mit plok du¯’wak, di sa˘rt das si gails ben he¯’sa, a’wer bai der tsait das är da˘r’ich sel hek’ka feld kum’ma is and di hex’a

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betsâlt, hot är niks i’werich kat. Doch hot är sich a’rik glik’lich ke’sa das ar net men gelid’ta hot das der ferlusht’ im du¯’wak un `n fa˘rshun’eni haut. Der Tshe¯k hot als ˘ar’iya tsai’ta kat noch saim fa˘rtse’las, wi °n Is un’glik i’wernum’ma hot da˘r’ich di hex’a. AI’les das är ge’e¯ghend hot, sain fı¯, hink’l und en’ta, wa’rä alsamol’ fa˘rhext, un är hot im end gâr ken en’ta men tsı¯’ghä ken’na. Da˘r’ich di hexarai’ sin di so mâ’gher wa’rä das si alsämol’ yusht dar’ich shwach’he¯t ken grâs men rop’pa hen ken’na. No hot är gedenkt’ das fa˘r’laicht `s gras fa˘rhext’ wâr, wail mol de¯l fun sai’na en’ta gebrowirt’ hen grâs tsä rop’pa hen si sich aus der haut getso’gha, no hot är der dru’w’1 kat si ne¯ksht ans fair tsä le¯´ghä bis wid’der `n nai’i haut un fed’tera raus gewak’sä sin. Des wâr tsu¯ fı¯l fa˘r der Tshe¯k, so hot är uf kärt en’ta tsä tsı¯´ghä.

The Suit the Sparrow Won Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Accumulative Tales Told by Cape Verde Islanders in New England.” Journal of American Folklore 33 (1920): 34–37. Date: 1920 Original Source: Cape Verde National Origin: Cape Verde, Africa

P

ardal temba urn gran’ di milh’. Ele bua, êle ba passa pa’ casa di re’. Gran’ di milh’ ’scapal di boc’, cahi dent’ di polon. Ele ba, êle fra, “Who’ Re’ fra polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Re’ fral, “Mi m ca ten nad’ qui faze cu ele.” Ele dixa re’. Ele ba p’undi rainh’. Ele fra, “‘Nha’ Rainh, nha po mal cu Who’ Re’, Who’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pe di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Rainh’ fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu ele.” Ele dixa ’Nha’ Rainh’. Ele ba p’undi rat’. Ele fra, “Rat’, cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu Who’ Re’, Who’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta p6 di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Rat’ fral, “Mi m ca tem. nad’ qui faze cu êle.” Ele dixa rat’. Ele ba p’undi gat’. Ele fra, “Gat’, corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu Who’ Re’, Who’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta p6 di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe.

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Gat’ fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu ele.” Ele dixa gat’. Ele ba p’und’ cacho’. Ele fra, “Cacho’, corre tras di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu Who’ “Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta p6 di polon, polon clan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Cacho’ fral, “Mi m ca tem qui faze cu ele.” Ele dixa cacho’. Ele ba p’undi manduc’. Ele fra, “Manduc’, manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tras di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu ’Nho’ Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pé di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Manduc’ fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu ele.” Ele dixa manduc’. Ele ba p’undi lum’. Ele fra, “Lumi, quema manduc’, manduc’ manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tras di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainha’ po mal cu ’Nho’ Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pé di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Lumi fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu êle.” Ele dixa lumi. Ele ba p’undi ago. Ele fra, “Ago, paga lumi, lumi quema manduc’, manduc’ manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tra’ di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu ’Nho’ Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta p6 di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Ago fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu êle.” Ele dixa ago. Ele ba p’undi toro. Ele fra, “Toro, bibe ago, ago paga lumi, lumi quema manduc’, manduc’ manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tra’ di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu ’Nho’ Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pe de polon, polon clan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Toro fral, “Mi m ca tem nad’ qui faze cu êle.” Ele dixa toro. Ele ba p’undi faca. Ele fra, “Faca, mata toro, toro bibe ago, ago quema manduc’, manduc’ manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tra’ di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu ’Nho’ Rei, ’Nho’ Rei po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pk di polon, polon dan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Fac’ ca fra nad’. Ell’ torna fral, “Fac’, mata toro, toro bibe ago, ago paga lumi, lumi quema manduc’, manduc’ manduca cacho’, cacho’ corre tras di gat’, gat’ corr’ tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu ’Nho’

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Appendix: Original Versions | The Mid-Atlantic

Re’, ’Nho’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ cort’ pé di polon, polon clan nha gran’ di milh’.” Ai, ai, ai, jel doc’, jel sabe. Fac’ zuni ting! Fac’ bua, êle cahi dent di gurdura, êle bua fora out’o bes. Ele bua p’êle corta toro piscoÇ’, toro bibe ago, ago paga lumi, lumi quema manduc’, manduc’ lomba cach’, cach’ corre tras di gat’, gat’ corre tras di rat’, rat’ cume saia di ’Nha’ Rainh’, ’Nha’ Rainh’ po mal cu Who’ Re’, Who’ Re’ po mal cu machad’, machad’ corta pé di polon, polon arbri, pardal bua p’ra ba’x’, ele panha se gran’ di milh’. Pardal canta pa’ ’Nho’ Re’, “Ami que pardal quen qui temba dimand’ contra bo pa’ sete ann’ y un dia, quen qui ganhal.”

MID-ATLANTIC Jack-O’-M-Lantern Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Newell, William Wells. “The Ignus Fatuus, Its Character and Legendary Origin.” Journal of American Folklore 17 (1904): 39–41. Date: 1904 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

O

nce dey wuz a man name Jack. He wuz a mighty weeked man, an’ treat he wife an’ chil’en like a dawg. He did n’ do nuttin’ but drink from mawin’ tell night, an’ ’twarn’ no use to say nuttin’ ’tall to ’im ’cause he wuz jes’ ez ambitious ez a mad dawg. Well suh, he drink an’ he drink tell whiskey could n’ mek ’im drunk; but et las’ hit bu’n ’im up inside; an’ den de Debble come fur ’im. When Jack see de Debble, he wuz so skeart he leettle mo’n er drapt in de flo’. Den he bague de Debble to let ’im off jes’ a leetle while, but de Debble say—“Naw Jack, I ain’ gwine wait no longer; my wife, Abbie Sheens, is speckin’ yo’.” So de Debble start off pretty bris’ an’ Jack wuz ’bleeged to foller, tell dey come to a grog shop. Mr. Debble,” said Jack, “don’ yo’ wan’ a drink?

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“Well,” said de Debble, “I b’leeve I does, but I ain’ got no small change; we don’ keep no change down dyah.” Tell yo’ wotcher do, Mr. Debble,” said Jack. “I got one ten cent en my pocket; yo’ change yo’sef inter nurr ten cent, an’ we kin git two drinks, an’ den yo’ kin change yo’sef back agin.” So de Debble change hisse’f inter a ten cent, an’ Jack pick ’im up; but stid o’ gwine in de grog shop, Jack clap de ten cent in he pocket-book dat he had n’t took outen he pocket befo’, ’cause he did n’ wan’ de Debble to see dat de ketch wuz in de shape ob a cross. He shet it tight, an’ dyah he had de Debble, an’ ’twarn’ no use fur ’im to struggle, ’cause he could n’ git by dat cross. Well suh; fus’ he swar and threat’n Jack wid what he wuz gwine do to ’im, an’ den he begun to bague, but Jack jes’ tu’n roun’ an’ start to go home. Den de Debble say, “Jack, of yo’ll lemme out o’ hyah, I’ll let yo’ off fur a whole year, I will, fur trufe. Lemme go Jack, ’cause Abbie Sheens is too lazy to put de bresh on de fire, an’ hit ’11 all go black out if I ain’ dyah fo’ long, to ten’ to it.” Den Jack say ter hisse’f, “I gret mine to let ’im go, ’cause in a whole year I kin ’pent and git ’ligion an’ git shet on ’im dat er way.” Den he say, “Mr. Debble, I’ll letcher out of yo’ ’clar fo’ gracious yo’ won’ come after me fur twel munt.” Den de Debble promise befo’ Jack undo de clasp, an’ by de time Jack got he pocket-book open he wuz gone. Den Jack say to hisse’f, “Well, now I gwine to ’pent an’ git ’ligion sho’; but ’t ain’ no use bein’ in no hurry; de las’ six munt will be plenty o’ time. Whar dat ten cent? Hyah ’t is. I gwine git me a drink.” When de six munt wuz gone, Jack ’lowed one munt would be time ’nuff to ’pent, and when de las’ munt come, Jack say he gwine hab one mo’ spree, an’ den he would have a week er ten days lef’ an’ dat wuz plenty o’ time, ’cause he done hearn o’ folks ’penting on dey death bade. Den he went on a spree fo’ sho’, an’ when de las’ week come, Jack had ’lirium trimblins, an’ de fus’ ting he knowed dyah wuz de Debble at de do’, an’ Jack had to git outen he bade and go ’long wid ’im. After a while dey pas a tree full o’ gret big red apples. “Don’ yo’ wan’ some apples, Mr. Debble?” said Jack. “Yo’ kin git some of yo’ wan’ em,” said de Debble, an’ he stop an’ look up in de tree. “How yo’ speck a man wid ’lirium trimblins to climb a tree?” said Jack. “Yo’ cotch hole de bough, an’ I’ll push yer up in de crotch, an’ den yo’ kin git all yo’ wants.” So Jack push ’im in de crotch, an’ de Debble ’gin to feel de apples to git a meller one. While he wuz doin’ dat, Jack whip he knife outen he pocket, an’ cut a cross in de bark ob de tree, jes’ under de Debble, an’ de Debble holler, “Tzip! Sumpi’ nurr but me den. Wotcher doin’ down dyah, Jack? I gwine cut yo’ heart out.”

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But he could n’ git down while dat cross wuz dyah, an’ Jack jes’ sot down on de grars, an’ watch ’im ragin’ an’ swarin’ an’ cussin’. Jack kep’ ’im dyah all night tell ’twuz gret big day, an’ den de Debble change he chune, an’ he say, “Jack, lemme git down hyah an’ I’ll gib yo’ nurr year.” “Gimme nuttin’!” said Jack, an’ stretch hisse’f out on de grars. Arfter a while, ’bout sun up, de Debble say,— “Jack, cut dis t’ing offen hyah an’ lemme git down, an’ I’ll gib yo’ ten year.” “Naw surree,” said Jack, “I won’ letcher git down less yo’ ’clar fo’ gracious dat yo’ won’ nuver come arfter me no mo’.” When de Debble fine Jack wuz hard ez a rock, he ’greed, an’ ’clared fo’ gracious dat he wouldn’ nuver come fur Jack agin, an’ Jack cut de cross offen de tree, and de Debble lef’ widout a word. Arfter dat Jack nuver thought no mo’ ’bout ’pentin’, ’cause he warn’ feared ob de Debble, an’ he did n’ wan’ to go whar dey warn’ no whiskey. Den he lib on tell he body war out, an’ he wuz’ bleeged to die. Fus’ he went to de gate o’ heaven, but de angel jes’ shake he hade. Den he wen’ to de gate o’ hell, but when wud come dat Jack wuz dyah, de Debble holler to de imps. “Shet de do’ an’ don’ let dat man come in hyah; he done treat me scanlous. Tell ’im to go ’long back whar he come frum.” Den Jack say,— “How I gwine fine my way back in de dark? Gimme a lantern.” Den de Debble tek a chunk outen de fire, an’ say, “Hyah, tek dis, and dontcher nuver come back hyah no mo’.” Den Jack tek de chunk o’ fire an’ start back, but when he come to a ma’sh, he done got los’, an’ he ain’ nuver fine he way out sence.

How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bullock, Mrs. Walter R. “The Collection of Maryland Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 7–16. Date: 1898 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

D

er wuz two girls, en Mr. Fox en Mr. Har’ wuz a co’tin’ wun dem, dey wuz dere two esco’ts; en ebery time Mr. Har’ ’d go ter seed de girls, en Mr. Fox wuz n’t dar, dey’d keep er axin’ him, “Whar’s Mr. Fox?” en tellin’ him ’bout Mr. Fox, dat Mr. Fox sez dis, en Mr. Fox sez dat.

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So Mr. Har’ kinder crossed his lags, en sed, “Yo’s all keeps a talkin’ ’bout Mr. Fox. Mr. Fox is my ridin’-hoss in wed wedder,” en de girls didn’t bleeb him. So w’en Mr. Fox comes de nex’ day, deys tole ’im ’bout hit, en w’at Mr. Har’ ’d done sed; so he goes back ter Mr. Har’s en gits arter ’im ’bout hit. En Mr. Har’ sed he didn’t sez so, de girls wuz a makin’ fun ub ’im, en sed to Mr. Har’, “Come, let’s go down dere termorrow en prove hit dem.” So Mr. Fox sez all right, en w’en de nex’ mornin’ come, Mr. Har’ tole Mr. Fox dat ’e wuz sick en could’n walk dere. So den Mr. Fox sed ’e tote ’im; en Mr. Har’ sed all right, but ’e must hab a saddle fer to hole himse’f on by. So Mr. Fox sed he’d git all ub dem den, but ’e ’atter get off w’en dey wuz neah dar, and Mr. Har’ sed all right. En whilst Mr. Fox wuz a giten’ deze udder thinks, Mr. Har’ wuz screden’ a pa’ar spurs ’bout ’is pussin, en w’en Mr. Fox come he gits on, en way dey goes. D’reckly Mr. Fox sez, “What yo’ doin’, Brer Har’?” “I dis ez fixen’ my foot in de sturip, Brer Fox.” Presen’ly Mr. Fox sez, “W’at’s yo’ doin’, Brer Har’?” “Nufin’ but turnin’ my pant leg down,” and all de time he wuz a puttin’ on de spurs. Presen’ly de got neah ter de house, en Mr. Fox sez, “Git down,” en Mr. Har’ sez, “Oh, please take me a little bit farder. I’s so monstrus weak I can’t git along.” So Mr. Fox went on twill he got neahly ter de house, den Mr. Fox sed, “Now git down,” and wid dat Mr. Har’, he slapped dem spurs inter ’im, en came plump down on him wid dat switch, en made Mr. Fox go a flyin’ down de road, right pass de gerls do’; ’en Mr. Har’ holler out, “See, ladies; I don tole you dat Mr. Fox wuz my ridin’-hoss,” en de gerls laf twill dey putty nigh cried, en Mr. Har’ he jumped right off at de do’, en Mr. Fox wuz so ’sulted, en mity cut up like, dat he des kept right on down, de road to de wood, en waited twill Mr. Har’ come ’long. En arter Mr. Har’ sit en talk wid de gerls, he went on down de road; he knewed what’s comin’, en Mr. Fox comes out en grabs Mr. Har’, en sez he’s gwinter kill ’im. Mr. Har’ sez, “Oh, please don’t kill me now, Brer Fox, en I’ll show yo’ war’s some honey.” Den Mr. Fox t’inks he’ll find out whar’s de honey fust. So Mr. Har’ takes ’im to de bee tree, en tells ’im to put his head in de holla’ en he’p hisse’f; and whilst Mr. Fox wuz a tryin’ to eat de honey, de bee stung ’im so, twill ’is head dun ’menced to swell, so dat he couddent git it outer de holla’, so ’e den tole Mr. Har’ to please to go a’ter de Docto’. En Mr. Har’ wen’ off down ter de branch en rolled en skipped en jumped, en rolled en skipped en jumped, en rolled en skipped en jumped; en den come

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back en tole Mr. Fox dat de Docto’ sed dat he couldn’t come, en sed de Docto’ sed, “Whar han’s can’t go, de head’s no bizness.” Den Mr. Fox ’menced to beg Mr. Har’ ter please go back arter de Docto’, en Mr. Har’ sed, “I yeahs a pack o’ hounds.” So den Mr. Fox juck ’is head outer de holla en t’ow ’is head all up, en dat wuz de last ub ’im, en Mr. Har’ did n’t ’mit no mudder edder.

Does a Cow Have Pigs? Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 358–59. Date: 1919 Original Source: Virginia National Origin: African American

B

rer Bar an’ Brer Wolf lived together on a fa’m. Brer Bar had a cow, an’ Brer Wolf had a sow. One mornin’ Brer Bar an’ Brer Wolf went out to the barn, and the sow came up with ten pigs. Brer Bar said ’twas his pigs his cow had. Brer Wolf said his sow had dem pigs. So dey couldn’ agree. Dey said dey’d take it to court. Brer Bar says he get Brer Frawg fur his lawyer, kase he was wise. Brer Wolf says ’11 get Brer Rabbit, though he’s a mighty triflin’ man. So dey to meet de nex’ day in de ba’n-yard t’ree o’clock, Brer ’Possum an’ Sis ’Possum, Brer Coon an’ Sis Coon, an’ Brer Bull-Frawg an’ all de critturs ’round. Brer Buzzard said he’d come, kase he may have to clean up some of dem dead, kase he know dey goin’ to kill somebudy. Nex’ day everybudy come a-skippin’ an’ a-hoppin’. Brer Frawg wus dar sittin’ up on de jedge stan’, waitin’ fur Brer Rabbit. Brer Rabbit ain’t tu’n up yet. ’Bout four o’clock dey all say, “Well, I guess we’ll give Brer Bar de pigs, kase Brer Rabbit ain’t here to argy his case.” All at once dey heard a voice up de road, an’ dey see de dus’ jus’ a-flyin’. Brer Rabbit jus’ kickin’ up san’ a-runnin’. Den all at once he come a-rushin’ into de court-house, a-puffin’ an’ a-pantin’, all out of breaf. “Ladies an’ gents, Ise sor’ to be late. Ise mean to gitshhere on time, but I had to see ’bout a bery important business to my faders.” Brer Frawg he ’lowed, “Your fader! Whoever heard talk ’bout you havin’ a fader?” Brer Rabbit he hollowed, “Ladies and gents! How many ever heard of a cow havin’ pigs?”—“No! No!” cried de crowd. “Well, de sow an’ pigs are yourn.” An’ he won de case. Den dey give a party for Brer Rabbit, an’ Miss

375


Meadows an’ all de gals were dar. Brer Rabbit was in love with one of de Miss Meadows. Brer Nophy (Wolf) got his fiddle an’ played dis tune: Brer Rab-bit put on Brer Rab-bit’s hat, Brer Rab-bit took his coat an’ spats, Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, Rit. hoo, gall Pop eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja-ane! Met Brer Rab-bit on de way, I ask him where he gwine, I yank your stars an’ I bless my soul, I hunt fo’ de musca-dine’ Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, gal! Pop eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja-ane! Jaw-bone walk-a, jaw-bone talk, jaw-bone ca-ter wid a knife an’ fork. Hang my jaw-bone on de fence, I hab’n seen noth-in’ of my jaw-bone sence. Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, gal! Big eye, Brer Rab-bit, hoo, hoo! O Miss Li-za Ja-ane!

Mr. Peacock and the Deadly Ghost Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bergen, Fanny D. “On the Eastern Shore.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 298–99. Date: 1889 Original Source: Maryland National Origin: African American

A

bout two years ago, I reckon, an ole man died in the place whar I useter live.’ He lef’ a heap o’ proputty ter his heirs; the’ was a right smart head o’ childun, an’ he give ’em ev’y one a farm, an the’ was one mo’ farm yit lef’ over. ’T was a good farm, an’ the house all furnished up, but no one did n’

376


keer ter live thar, fer they close up this space, all said the house was haanted. But one of the heirs, he said he did n’ feel no way feared but he could lay that ghost, so’s ter live thar. An’ they tole him the farm was his of he could lay the ghost. So he went ter a man of the name of Peacock, that lived neighbor ter him, an’ ’t was a church-member, an’ offered him a heap o’ money ter go an’ lay that ghost. Mr. Peacock he went that same night ter the house, takin’ his Bible along, an’ he set thar a readin’ it back-wards an’ forwards; he did n’ mind none whether the ghost come a-nigh or not. Sho’ ’nuff the ghost come along while he was a-readin’, An’ it went all about thoo the house, so’s Mr. Peacock could hear it goin’ inter the diffunt rooms an’ a-movin’ things this-a-way an’ that-a-way. But he did n’ let on ter heah the ghost, no indeed, but he kep’ a-readin’ away ter his Bible. Atter a while, the ghost blowed out his lamp, but he jes lit it an’ read on ’n’ then he went inter the bedroom an’ lay down. That sorter made the ghost mad, so ’s it come inter the bedroom, an’ he see it like as of ’t was an ole woman. Fer the’ was an ole woman’s ghost that haanted the house anyhow; they said it could n’ res’ nohow ’count o’ the murder the ole lady done whilst she was alive. Anyhow Mr. Peacock see her reach out her arm, long an’ skinny-like, under the bed, ’n’ she jes’ turned it over so i with him on it. But he on’y crep’ out fum under it ’n’ went back inter the kitchen an’ begun ter read away in his Bible. An’ thar he stayed all night, on’y afore day the ghost come once mo’ ’n’ said, “Ef yo’ come back yer again, yo’ re a dead man.” Well, nex’ night Mr. Peacock come back again, yes indeed, and he’d got two preachers ter come, too, ’n’ try ter lay that ghost. One was a Methodis’ ’n’ the other was a Catholic, an’ they both brought their Bibles, ’n’ all of ’em kep’ areadin’ forward ’n’ backward. ’T wan’t no time at all tell that ghost came again, an’ then it jes’ went on mos’ outrageous. The Methodis’, he didn’ stay ter hear much o’ the racket tell out he run, an’ never come back that night. The Catholic, he held out a good bit, but ’fore long he run an’ lef’ Peacock ter stay it out by himself. “Well, they say the ghost never spoke ter him no mo’, but sho’ ’nuff, in the mornin’, thar was Peacock a-lyin’ dead, with his head cut clean off,—yes indeed, sir!—an’ the’ ain’t no one never tried ter lay that ghost sence.”

377

Glossary

anecdote: Single episode narrative, regarded as true and commonly concentrating on an individual animal tale: Narratives told as conscious fictions in which the characters, though they speak and behave like human beings, are animals. These animal characters are commonly stock types. For example, in many Native American traditions, Coyote is regarded as an exploitive, impulsive manipulator. In African American tales, Rabbit is typecast in the same role. The tales are most often moralistic (“don’t be greedy”) or etiological (why the frog has no tail) in intent. belief tales: Legends or personal experience narratives that are told with the purpose of validating a particular folk belief. culture hero: Character in myth who finishes the work that brings technology (usually symbolized as fire), laws, religion, and other elements of culture to humans. Culture heroes may take over the business of creating order out of chaos where a Supreme Creator left off. Therefore, the culture hero serves as a secondary creator or transformer of the universe. The culture hero transforms the universe by means of gifts into a universe in which humans can live. In some myths, the culture hero cleanses the universe of those things which threaten human existence: monsters, cannibals, or meteorological phenomena. fable: Fictional narrative ending with a didactic message that is often couched in the form of a “moral” or proverb. family saga: Chronologically and often thematically linked collection of legends constituting the folk history of a particular family, usually over several generations. The term was coined by folklorist Mody Coggin Boatright.


formulaic: Refers to conventional elements that recur in folk narrative. Examples include clichés, structural patterns, and stock characters or situations. framing: The act of setting apart a traditional performance from other types of activity by words, occasions of performance, or other distinguishing features. genre: Type or category legend: Narrative told as truth and set in the historical past, which does not depart from the present reality of the members of the group local legend: Legends derived from and closely associated with specific places and events believed to have occurred in those locales motif: Small element of traditional narrative content; an event, object, concept, or pattern myth: Narratives that explain the will (or intent) and the workings (or orderly principles) of a group’s major supernatural figures. Myth is set in a world which predates the present reality. natural context: Setting, in all its elements, in which a performance would ordinarily take place. numskull: Character who behaves in an absurdly ignorant fashion, also called “noodle.” ordinary folktale: Highly formulaic and structured fictional narrative that is popularly referred to as “fairytale” and designated by folklorists as märchen or “wonder tale.” Term coined by folklorist Stith Thompson personal experience narrative: First-person narrative intended as truth personal legend: Narrative intended as truth told about a specific (usually well-known) individual stock character: Recurent narrative character who invariably plays a stereotyped role such as trickster or fool tale type: Standard, recurrent folk narrative plot tall tale: Fictional narrative often told as a first-hand experience, which gradually introduces hyperbole until it becomes so great that the audience realizes the tale is a lie trickster: Characters who defy the limits of propriety and often gender and species. Tricksters live on the margins of their worlds by their wits and are often regarded as possessing supernatural powers. Often a mythic figure such as Coyote or Hare will function as both culture hero and trickster. validating device: Any element occurring within a traditional narrative that is intended to convince listeners that the tale is true. variant: Version of a standard tale type

380

Bibliography to Volume I

Aarne, Antti, and Stith Thompson. The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography. 2nd rev. ed. Folklore Fellows Communications 184. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1964. Aaron, Abe. “Interview of Cab Drivers.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Algren, Nelson. “Interview of Davey Day.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 11 November 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Allen, Barbara, and Thomas Schlereth. A Sense of Place: American Regional Cultures. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1990. Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 250–327. Baker, Ronald L. Hoosier Folk Legends. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982. Barden, Thomas E., ed. Virginia Folk Legends. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1991. Baughman, Ernest W. Type- and Motif-Index of the Folk Tales of England and North America. The Hague: Mouton, 1966. Beauchamp, W. M. “Onondaga Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 173–89. Beck, Horace. Gluskap the Liar and Other Indian Tales. Freeport, ME: Bond Wheelright, 1966.


Beckwith, Martha Warren. Jamaica Anansi Stories. New York: American Folklore Society, 1924. “Beliefs of Southern Negroes Concerning Hags.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 66–67. Bergen, Fanny D. “Borrowing Trouble.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 55–59. ———. “On the Eastern Shore.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 295–300. ———. “Two Witch Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 68–69. Bierhorst, John, ed. White Deer and Other Stories Told by the Lenape. New York: W. Morrow, 1995. Boatright, Mody Coggin. Mody Boatright, Folklorist: A Collection of Essays. Edited by Ernest B. Speck. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973. Botkin, Benjamin A. A Treasury of American Folklore: The Stories, Legends, Tall Tales, Traditions, Ballads and Songs of the American People. New York: Crown, 1944. ———. A Treasury of New England Folklore. New York: Crown, 1944. Brendle, Thomas R., and William S. Troxell. Pennsylvania German Folk Tales, Legends, Once-upon-a-time Stories, Maxims, and Sayings. Norristown: Pennsylvania German Society, 1944. Bullock, Mrs. Walter R. “The Collection of Maryland Folklore” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 7–16. Byrd, Frank. “Interview of Leroy Spriggs.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Carey, George. Maryland Folklore. Centreville, MD: Tidewater, 1989. Clough, Ben C. “Legends of Chappaquiddick.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 553–54. Conant, L. “English Folktales in America: The Three Brothers and the Hag.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 143–44. Currier, John McNab. “Contributions to the Folk-Lore of New England.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 291–93. Curtin, Jeremiah. “European Folklore in the United States.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 56–59. ———. Seneca Indian Myths. New York: W. P. Dutton, 1922. Reprint, New York: Dover, 2001. Dorsey, J. Owen. “Abstracts of Omaha and Ponka Myths, II.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 204–8.

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Seip, Elisabeth Cloud. “Witch-Finding in Western Maryland.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 39–44. Showers, Susan. “Two Negro Stories Concerning the Jay.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 74. Shuman, Amy. “Dismantling Local Culture.” Western Folklore 52 (1993): 345–64. Skinner, Alanson. “European Folk-Tales Collected Among the Menominee Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 64–80. Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 357–83. Speck, Frank G. “European Folk-Tales among the Penobscot.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 81–84. ———. “Penobscot Transformer Tales.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1918): 187–244. Spencer, J. “Shawnee Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 319–26. Suplee, Laura M. “The Legend of Money Cove.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 272–73. Swenson, May. “Interview of Anca Vrbooska.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Taylor, Archer. “An Old-World Tale from Minnesota.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 555–56. Taylor, Helen Louise, and Rebecca Wolcott. “Items from New Castle, Delaware.” Journal of American Folklore 51 (1938): 92–94. Thomas, Howard. Folklore from the Adirondack Foothills. Prospect, NY: Prospect Books, 1958. Thompson, Stith. The Motif Index of Folk Literature. Rev. ed. 6 vols. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1955–1958. Weippiert, G. W. “Legends of Iowa.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 287–90. Welsch, Roger. Shingling the Fog and Other Plains Lies. Chicago: Swallow, 1972. Williams, Mentor L., ed. Schoolcraft’s Indian Legends. East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1956. Wilson, Howard Barrett. “Notes of Syrian Folk-Lore Collected in Boston.” Journal of American Folklore 16 (1903): 133–47.

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Wrenshall, Letitia Humphreys. “Incantations and Popular Healing in Maryland and Pennsylvania.” The Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 268–74. Zingerle, Ignaz and Joseph. Kinder und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Zingerle. Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner’schen Buchhandlung, 1852.

387

General Bibliography

Aarne, Antti, and Stith Thompson. The Types of the Folktale: A Classification and Bibliography. 2nd rev. ed. Folklore Fellows Communications 184. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1964. Aaron, Abe. “Interview of Cab Drivers.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Abrahams, Roger D., ed. African American Folktales: Stories from Black Traditions in the New World. New York: Pantheon, 1985. ———. The Man-of-Words in the West Indies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983. Alaska Judicial Council. “Resolving Disputes Locally: A Statewide Report and Directory.” Alaska Judicial Council. 9 December 2005. http://www.ajc.state.ak.us/index.htm. Algren, Nelson. “Interview of Davey Day.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 11 November 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Allen, Barbara, and Thomas Schlereth. A Sense of Place: American Regional Cultures. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1990. Ancelet, Barry Jean. “The Cajun Who Went to Harvard: Identity in the Oral Tradition of South Louisiana.” The Journal of Popular Culture 23 (1989): 101–15.


Angermiller, Florence. “Interview of Jack Robert Grigsby.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Bacon, A. M., and E. C. Parsons. “Folk-Lore from Elizabeth City County, Virginia.” Journal of American Folklore 35 (1922): 250–327. Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 284–92. ———. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 19–32. ———. “Tales of the Rabbit from Georgia Negroes.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 108–15. Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 125–36. Baker, Ronald L. Hoosier Folk Legends. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1982. Balilci, Asen. The Netsilik Eskimo. Garden City, NY: Natural History Press, 1970. Banister, Manly Andrew C. “Interview of James E. Twadell.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Barden, Thomas E., ed. Virginia Folk Legends. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1991. Bates, William C. “Creole Folk-Lore from Jamaica II: Nancy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 121–28. Baughman, Ernest W. Type- and Motif-Index of the Folk Tales of England and North America. The Hague: Mouton, 1966. Beauchamp, W. M. “Onondaga Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 173–89. Beck, Horace. Gluskap the Liar and Other Indian Tales. Freeport, ME: Bond Wheelright, 1966. Beckwith, Martha Warren. Hawaiian Mythology. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940. ———. Jamaica Anansi Stories. New York: American Folklore Society, 1924. “Beliefs of Southern Negroes Concerning Hags.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 66–67. Bergen, Fanny D. “Borrowing Trouble.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 55–59.

390


———. “On the Eastern Shore.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 295–300. ———. “Two Witch Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 68–69. Bierhorst, John, ed. White Deer and Other Stories Told by the Lenape. New York: W. Morrow, 1995. Boas, Franz. Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. ———. “Notes on the Eskimo of Port Clarence, Alaska.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 205–8. ———. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 257–68. ———. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 35–48. Boatright, Mody Coggin. Mody Boatright, Folklorist: A Collection of Essays. Edited by Ernest B. Speck. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973. Botkin, Benjamin A. A Treasury of American Folklore: The Stories, Legends, Tall Tales, Traditions, Ballads and Songs of the American People. New York: Crown, 1944. ———. A Treasury of New England Folklore. New York: Crown, 1944. Bourke, John G. “Notes on Apache Mythology.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 209–12. ———. “Popular Medicines, Customs and Superstitions of the Rio Grande.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 119–46. Bowman, Earl. “Interview of Harry Reece.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of William D. Naylor.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Brendle, Thomas R., and William S. Troxell. Pennsylvania German Folk Tales, Legends, Once-upon-a-time Stories, Maxims, and Sayings. Norristown: Pennsylvania German Society, 1944. Bullock, Mrs. Walter R. “The Collection of Maryland Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 7–16. Bunter, Rosa. “Ghosts as Guardians of Hidden Treasure.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 64–65.

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404

Cumulative Index Boldface numbers refer to volume numbers.

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace “A Bewitched Churning,” 2:174 “A Bewitched Gun,” 2:6, 2:179 “A Drunkard’s Promise,” 1:303 “A Giant’s Rock-Throwing,” 3:281 “A Loup Garou Disguises as a Beggar,” 2:289 “A Messenger to the Indians,” 3:241 “A Patriot’s Answer to an Iraqi,” 4:183 “A Pioneer Crossing the Midwest,” 1:148, 1:243 “A Sight of Alligators,” 2:124 “A Wonderful Testimony,” 3:242 A`yûn’inï (“Swimmer”), 2:28 “A Zange Disguises as a Snake,” 2:287 Abenaki, 1:4, 1:12, 1:29; tales, 1:18, 1:64 “Above Ground and Below Ground,” 1:281

Abrahams, Roger, 2:39, 2:205 Achomawi, 3:271; tales, 3:271 Acoma Pueblo: corn/agriculture influencing mythology, 3:7; kinship structure, 3:8; sacred number “four,” 3:7–8; tales, 3:7 “Adam and Eve,” 2:231, 2:291 “The Adams Diggings,” 3:4, 3:92 “The Adventures of Haininu and Baumegwesu,” 3:305 African American jokes: ethnic jokes, 1:309, 2:42, 2:73, 2:74, 2:75, 2:223; master/slave, 1:263, 1:358, 1:360, 2:122; preacher as stock character, 1:315, 2:78, 2:167, 2:206 African American tales, 1:138; and Brer Rabbit, 2:5; Caribbean, 2:231–44, 2:245–75, 2:277–90, 2:291–300; with cowboy, 3:224; and dangers of nonsensical behavior motif, 2:39; and dangers of “putting on airs,” 2:92; and dog ghost motif, 1:327; Jamaica, 1:292; Mid-Atlantic, 1:265–70, 1:272–82, 1:283–323, 1:326–29, 1:334–44, 1:347, 1:350, 1:353, 1:357–62; Northeast, 1:138; Plains and

Plateau, 3:223; and “signifying” (rhetorical device), 2:85, 2:104; South, 2:20, 2:25–28, 2:31–34, 2:36–46, 2:56, 2:62–71, 2:73–76, 2:77, 2:83–87, 2:91, 2:96, 2:106, 2:121, 2:126, 2:130, 2:131, 2:149, 2:159–71, 2:194, 2:199–209, 2:223, 2:226; tradition in MidAtlantic, 1:261, 1:263; Trinidad, 1:42, 1:363 African tales: Cape Verde, 1:94, 1:141, 1:365; and influence in South and Caribbean, 2:4, 2:277, 2:280, 2:286; Zomo the Hare, 2:94 Ahahe, 3:212 “Aiini,” 1:148, 1:178 “Akua,” 3:292 Alabama, 2:2; tales, 2:21, 2:98, 2:100 Aleuts, 4:3, 4:5, 4:42; tales, 4:42, 4:146, 4:148, 4:151. See also Inuit Algonquian cultures, 1:4, 1:291:147; migration to Midwest, 1:148, 1:149; push west, 3:179 “All Dressed Up and No Place to Go,” 2:223

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace “Allen Chesser’s Initiation: The Bear Fight,” 2:46; original version, 2:305 “Alligators in the Toilet,” 4:274 Alsea, 4:116; tales, 4:116 Alutiiq, 4:5 Ambers, Lou, 1:190 American Revolution, 1:148 “American Vampires,” 1:120 “American Women vs. the Taliban,” 4:272 “Amhuluk, the Monster of the Mountain Pool,” 4:142 “An Act of Kindness,” 4:176 Anansi, 2:33, 2:236, 2:249, 2:250, 2:252, 2:270; Jamaica Anansi Stories, 2:242, 2:298 “Anansi and the Lady in the Well,” 2:270 Anasazi, 3:36 Ancelet, Barry Jean, 2:119 Anderson, Ella, 1:269 Anderson, Mrs. C. A., 4:42, 4:146, 4:151 Anderson, W. T., 1:357 Anecdotes, 1:149, 4:279 “Anger Management,” 4:218 Anglo American tales: Northeast, 1:26, 1:50, 1:54, 1:72, 1:77, 1:87, 1:104, 1:107, 1:112, 1:120, 1:123, 1:143; Northwest, 4:45; South, 2:79, 2:115, 2:132, 2:137, 2:155, 2:171, 2:172, 2:174, 2:178, 2:179, 2:193, 2:195, 2:196; tradition in Mid-Atlantic, 1:261; tradition in Southwest, 3:5, 3:86

406

Animal tales/fables, 1:42, 1:149, 1:168, 1:263, 1:268, 1:314, 3:306, 4:279; animal spouse, 1:337, 2:277; animal/fish allows itself to be taken motif, 4:4; animals in night quarters motif, 1:55; bear, 1:21, 2:28; coyote, 3:22, 3:109, 3:111, 3:228, 3:230, 3:268, 3:306, 3:331, 4:16, 4:74; and exploits of trickster/culture hero, 2:31; “The Fish Lover,” 2:298; fox, 3:22, 3:115; Frog and fresh water, connection between (Northwest), 4:141; imitation and acceptance themes, 3:109; nurture motif, 1:45; Prairie Falcon, 3:268, 3:335, 3:367; Raven, 4:40, 4:99; salmon, 4:3, 4:4; snakes, 2:35, 3:365. See also Trickster legends “Annancy and the Yam Hills,” 2:250 “The Antelope Boy,” 3:41, 3:47 Apaches, 3:36; common tale with Northern Athabascan, 4:86; and the horse, 3:5; Jicarilla, 3:4; tales, 3:17, 3:20, 3:22, 3:115; Warm Spring and Victorio’s War, 3:84 Appalachian region, 2:5–6 “Are You Man?” 2:107, 2:220 Arikara, 1:149, 3:132; and Skidi Pawnee, 3:160; tales, 3:159 “Arikara Creation,” 3:159 “The Arkansas Shakes,” 2:127 Armenian tales: Northeast, 1:100 Armstrong, Henry, 1:190 “Arrow Young Men: Creation of the World,” 4:7, 4:11 “Ash Girl,” 3:77 Athabascan people, 3:4, 3:5, 4:35. See also Apaches; Navajo; Ts’ets’a¯’ut “Attacker in the Backseat,” 4:192 “Aunt” Sarah, 1:347 Austin, Stephen F., 3:5 Austin, Tom, 3:287, 3:342 “Avenging Ghosts,” 2:192, 2:196

“B’ Helephant and B’V’wale (Brother Elephant and Brother Whale),” 2:313 Babcock, Maud May, 3:242 Baca, Elfego, 3:4, 3:63 Bacon, A. M., 1:309 Bacon, Emma, 1:263 “Bale of Cotton or Bag of Salt,” 2:259 Barrett, Richard, 2:231, 2:291 Barrow, Louise Lavinia, 2:253, 2:254 Batchler, E. V., 3:92 “Battle with the Comanches,” 1:148, 1:193 “Battling Witches,” 1:352 Bear, 1:21 “Bear Maiden,” 1:148, 1:173 Bear Songs. See “Origin of the Bear: The Bear Songs” “Beauty and the Beast,” 1:50, 1:337 “The Beaver and the Woodrat,” 4:115 Beckwith, Martha, 1:292, 2:242, 2:250, 2:298, 3:274–75, 3:312 Belief tales, 1:120, 1:342, 1:352, 2:168, 2:197, 3:123, 3:353, 4:279; validating devices for, 1:344 “The Bell Witch,” 2:181 Bella Bella, 4:35 “The Bent Gun,” 2:130 Berdache, 2:21 Bergen, Fanny D., 1:57, 1:328 “The Bewitched Mill,” 1:110 “The Bewitched Wives,” 4:143 Bible: backward reading of, 2:194 Big Beaver, 3:361 “The Big Cyclone,” 1:224 “Big Fred,” 4:120 Big Man-eater, 2:98, 2:100 Big Turtle, 1:149, 1:188 “The Big Worm,” 2:279; original version, 2:318 “Bill Foscett,” 3:133, 3:220 Billy the Kid, 3:86

Cumulative Index

Biloxi tales, 2:54 “Binding a Dog,” 1:333 “The Birds Take Back Their Feathers; The Insult Midstream; Playing Dead,” 1:94; original version, 1:365 “Black Cat and the Sable,” 1:12, 1:17 “The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge,” 1:262, 1:324, 1:326 “Black Vote Cancelled,” 4:253 Blackfoot, 3:132; tales, 3:257 Bleeker, Larene K., 3:250 “Bloody Kansas,” 1:149, 1:261 “The Blue Bucket Mine,” 4:6, 4:47 “Blue Jay and His Sister,” 4:100 Bluejacket, Charles, 1:169 Boas, Franz, 4:27, 4:30, 4:40, 4:44, 4:89, 4:136 “Body Part Initiation,” 4:193; variant B, 4:194; variant C, 4:195 Bonney, William H., 3:86 “Booger Red,” 3:4, 3:68 Bookie (Hyena): and Rabbit, 2:258 Boqui and Lapin tales, 1:94, 2:71 Botts, 1:264, 1:330 “Boudreaux and the Cottonmouth,” 2:119 Bouki: and Anansi tales, 1:94; and Lapin (examples of culture borrowing), 2:55, 2:262; and Rabbit tales, 1:94, 2:255 Bouqui/Bouqi: and Lapin (examples of culture borrowing), 2:4, 2:49, 2:61, 2:71, 2:109, 2:258 “Bouqui and Lapin: The Smokehouse,” 2:108 Bourke, John G., 3:124 “Boxer Davey Day,” 1:149, 1:190 “Boycott Dunkin’ Donuts,” 4:270 Boyer, Laura, 4:196 Brauche/braucherei, 1:122, 1:264 “The Brave Tailor,” 2:245; variant B, 2:248 “Bremen Town Musicians,” 1:55

“Brer Deer is my Ridin’ Horse,” 1:270 “Brer Rabbit Deer,” 2:59 “Brer Rabbit Dines on Brer Wolf,” 1:301 “Brer Rabbit’s Cool Air Swing,” 2:85 “Briar-patch Punishment for Rabbit,” 2:233 “The Bride from the Underworld,” 3:297 “The Bride of the Evil One,” 2:198 “The British Are Coming,” 1:262, 1:282 “Brother and Sister,” 4:40 “The Brother and Sister Who Became Hair-Seals,” 4:148 “Brother Elephant and Brother Whale,” 2:237; original version, 2:313 “Brother Rabbit an’ Brother TarBaby,” 2:232 “Brother Rabbit an’ Tarbaby,” 2:50, 2:53 “Brother Rabbit, Brother Booky, and Brother Cow,” 2:4, 2:255, 2:258; variant B, 2:257 Brotherhood of Penitents, 3:127 “The Brothers Who Married Witches,” 1:340 Brown, Mary, 1:50 Brown, Payton, 1:318 Brown, Zenobia, 2:162 Brujeria, 3:121, 3:124; “Curanderas and Brujas,” 3:124–26 Buchanan, George, 2:132–33, 2:293 Buchanan, Jim, 4:11, 4:55, 4:66 “The Buck Fight,” 2:123 “The Buckskin Harness,” 1:224 Buell, Jane, 1:111 Buell, Mrs. William, 1:52, 1:97, 1:107 Buffalo, 3:131, 3:133 “Buffalo Bill,” 1:148, 1:243; Wild West Show, 3:68 Buki, 2:262

Bunyan, Paul: tall tale vs. comic anecdote, 4:120 Burdash, Peter, 3:159 Burrell, W. S., 1:350 “Bush Refuses to Sell Home to Blacks,” 4:191 Bushotter, George, 3:261 “Cab Driver Con Man,” 1:149, 1:194 Cabeza de Vaca, Álvar Núñez, 3:5 “Cajun Cockfight,” 2:120 Cajuns, 2:4, 2:258; tales, 2:49, 2:61, 2:71, 2:108, 2:111, 2:113, 2:118, 2:119, 2:120, Campbell, John, 2:130 Candomble, 2:20 “The Cannibal and His Wives,” 3:173 “The Captive Witch Wife,” 1:346 “Car Jacking Scheme,” 4:206 Carib, 2:1–2 Caribbean: diversity of, 2:1; extent of, 2:1; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 2:245–75; influence of African cultures on, 2:4–5; influence on South, 2:5; and Native American cultures, 2:1–2; “old story” (tales with African origins), 2:280; origins, tales of, 2:231–44; sacred tales of the supernatural, 2:277–90; secular tales of the supernatural, 2:291–300; terrain, 2:1; unifying factors in tales, 2:6; use of opening and closing rhymes, 2:258 Carrington, Samuel, 2:245, 2:251 Cason Lee, Annie, 3:181 Catawba, 1:33 Caul: folk belief in importance of, 2:168 Cayuga nation, 1:5 “Centipede,” 3:326, 3:336; variant B, 3:330 “Chair on His Head,” 1:311

407

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace “Chef Sampson Lands Mr. Trout,” 1:138 “Chef Watkins’ Alibi,” 1:139 Cherokee, 1:32–33, 1:262, 1:298, 2:2, 2:76; belief in “the immortals,” 2:213; North Carolina (Eastern Band), 2:2–3; ravens in sacred formulas, 2:176; tales, 2:11, 2:29, 2:35, 2:101, 2:175, 2:213 Chesser, Allen, 2:46, 2:123, 2:124, 2:305 Chesser, Sam, 2:217 Cheyenne, 3:132, 3:179; tales, 3:178, 3:185, 3:262, 3:361 Chickasaw, 2:2; moieties, 2:76; tales, 2:76 “The Chief’s Daughters,” 1:149, 1:176 “The Children of the Dog,” 4:51 Chinook tales, 4:43, 4:100, 4:113, 4:127 Chipo, 3:305, 3:335 Chippewa (Ojibway) tales, 1:147 “The Chloroformed Roommate,” 4:204 Choctaw, 2:2, 2:21, 2:76 “The Chosen Suitor,” 2:205, 2:277, 2:298 “The Chosen Suitor: The Forbidden Room,” 2:204; original version, 2:311 Christensen, Julian, 1:225 “Christians Charged for Reading Bible in Prison,” 4:241 Christophe, Henri, 2:294 “Chronic Dehydration,” 4:169 Chumash, 3:268

408

Circuses, 3:68 “Citibank Boycott,” 4:271 Civil War: and Mid-Atlantic, 1:261; and Midwest, 1:149, 1:248; and Plains and Plateau, 3:132; and West, 3:267 Clarke, Alexander, 1:9 Clatsop, 4:43 Clayton, W. O., 1:286 “Clothing Caught in a Graveyard,” 1:115 Coates, Maurice, 3:83 “Cock’s Breakfast,” 2:242 Cody, William Frederick “Buffalo Bill,” 1:148, 243; Wild West Show, 3:68 Comanches (Southern Plains), 3:132, 3:230; tales, 3:231. See also Shoshonean Comanches Comic anecdotes, 4:120 “Contempt for His Torturers,” 1:6, 1:131 Cook, Captain James, 3:269 “‘Coon in the Box,” 2:121 Coos, 4:12; tales, 4:12, 4:55, 4:66 Corbett, James John “Gentleman Jim,” 3:238 Coushatta/Cousatti, 2:2, 2:20 “The Cow Is Taken to the Roof to Graze,” 1:310 “Coyote and Beaver,” 4:86 “Coyote and His Sister Robin,” 3:268, 3:367 “Coyote and Pitch,” 4:84; tar baby similarities, 4:85 “Coyote and Raccoon,” 4:82 “Coyote and the Buffalo,” 3:132, 3:228 “Coyote and the Grizzly Bears,” 3:339–41; formulaic closing, 3:339 “Coyote and the Old Woman,” 4:73 “Coyote and the Stump-Man,” 4:92 “Coyote and the Sun,” 3:344 “The Coyote and the Woodpecker,” 3:109, 3:115

“Coyote and Wolf,” 3:342 “Coyote Arranges the Seasons of the Year,” 4:20 “Coyote Creates Taboos,” 4:4, 4:127, 4:141 “Coyote Frees the Salmon,” 4:25 “Coyote’s Amorous Adventures,” 4:83 “Coyote’s Theft of Fire,” 3:132, 3:164, 3:173 Creation myths. See Origins “Creation of Man,” 3:274 “The Creation of the Indians,” 3:278 Creek Confederation, 2:2, 2:21, 2:58, 2:76, 2:105; tales, 2:59, 2:103, 2:105, 2:151; and ties to African Americans, 2:105 Creole traditions, 2:3, 2:224 “The Crop Division,” 1:281 “Crossing the Plains from Kentucky,” 3:132, 3:181 Cultee, Charles, 4:43, 4:100, 4:113, 4:127 Cultural contact, 1:262, 1:298, 1:344, 2:5, 2:56, 3:4, 3:17, 3:77, 3:115; among Pueblo peoples, 3:47; Lapin/Bouqui/Rabbit examples, 2:4, 2:49, 2:101, 2:103, 2:105 Culture heroes, 1:4, 2:20, 3:20, 3:165, 3:189, 3:306, 4:14, 4:279; abilities, 1:202; characteristics, 3:173; coyote, 4:93; divine twins, 1:9, 1:12, 3:47, 3:59, 3:206, 3:213; and flow of power, 3:135; Papa, 3:293; Prairie Falcon, 3:268; Raven, 4:40, 4:99, 4:134; and technology, 2:99, 3:22; Uuyot (Wuyoot), 3:289; Wakea, 3:293. See also Trickster legends “Curanderas and Brujas,” 3:5, 3:124–26 “Curanderas and Brujas II,” 3:125“Cures of a Maryland Witch,” 1:264, 1:330, 1:352

Cumulative Index

“Curing a Bewitched Cow,” 1:332 Cushing, Frank Hamilton, 3:52 Cusick, Albert, 1:20 Cyberspace, 4:163; sacred tales of the supernatural, 4:241–51; secular tales of the supernatural, 4:253–78; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 4:175–239; origins, tales of, 4:165–74 “The Dachshund and the Downpour,” 1:223 Dakota, 1:149, 3:132, 3:251; tales, 3:261 “The Dalai Lama’s Instructions for Life,” 4:245 Dalton Gang, 3:220 Danballah, 2:288 “Date Rape Drug,” 4:203 Davenport, Fred, 1:316 Day, Davey, 1:190 “Dayday Agastin,” 2:4, 2:295 “De Big Worrum (The Big Worm),” 2:318 “De Story of de Man and Six Poached Eggs,” 2:293 “Deadly Ball Pits,” 4:266 “Death Blow to a Witch,” 1:112 “Death by Conjuring,” 1:348 “The Death of the Grizzly Bears,” 4:79, 4:89 “Death of William Hung,” 4:229 “Debit Card Abuse by Katrina Victims,” 4:277 “Deceptive Tug-of-war,” 2:238 Demmings, Sarah, 1:298 “The Demon Lover,” 2:199 DePoe, Charlie, 4:7, 4:20, 4:73, 4:86 “Devil’s Bride Rescued by Brother,” 2:205 “Devil’s dung” (ferula asafetida), 1:333 Dias, Matheus, 1:94, 1:365 “The Dismembered Ghost,” 1:322

“The Disobedient Boy Who Became a Prince,” 1:5, 1:69 “Dividing the Chicken,” 1:225 “Dividing the Souls,” 1:315 “The Doe with a Ring,” 1:263, 3:123 “Does a Cow Have Pigs?” 1:283; original version, 1:375 “Dog and Dog Head,” 1:292 Dolores, Juan, 3:111 “The Doom of the Katt-a-quins,” 4:3, 4:133 Dorsey, George A., 3:251 “Dr. B., Witch Doctor,” 1:6, 1:109 “Dr. Know-All,” 2:122 Duncan, 1:326 Dutch: influence in the Northeast, 1:6 “E-Mail Charge,” 4:262; variant B, 4:263 Earth Mother motif, 1:9 “Earthdiver” mythic type, 1:9, 1:151, 1:160, 3:277 “Education for a Carpenter’s Son,” 2:294 Edwards, Charles, 2:298 Edwards Claudel, Leona, 2:108 Edwards, E. E., 1:297 Edwards, George W., 2:235, 2:239, 2:240, 2:248, 2:260, 2:277, 2:283 “809 Scam,” 4:211; variant B, 4:213; variant C, 4:215 Eiler, “Grandmother,” 1:332 Elam, Wesley D., 1:311, 1:360, 1:361 “Elevator Intimidation,” 4:254 “Elfego Baca,” 3:63 “Enmity of Fowl and Cockroach,” 2:242 Eskimo, 4:3, 4:5; belief in monsters, 4:37 habitat, 4:33; sea spirit, 4:33; shaman traditions, 4:54, 4:144; tales, 4:32, 4:34, 4:36, 4:38, 4:54, 4:98, 4:143, 4:145. See also Yupik (Eskimo) culture

Estes, George, 4:124 European American tales: Cyberspace, 4:211; Mid-Atlantic, 1:282, 1:324, 1:348; Midwest, 1:190, 1:216, 1:219, 1:236, 1:238, 1:247, 1:253; Northeast, 1:92, 1:93, 1:126; Northwest, 4:47, 4:94, 4:120, 4:124; Plains and Plateau, 3:181, 3:220, 3:233, 3:238, 3:241, 3:242, 3:245, 3:248, 3:250; South, 2:46, 2:87, 2:110, 2:123, 2:124, 2:127, 2:130, 2:134, 2:140, 2:145, 2:181, 2:209, 2:217, 2:305; Southwest, 3:68, 3:83, 3:92, 3:98, 3:103; West, 3:346 Evans, E. M., 1:312 “Evil eye,” 1:352 Exile motif, 1:45 Extraordinary birth motif, 1:45 “The Eye-Juggler,” 3:230 Fable, 4:279; “Fable of the Animals,” 4:14. See also Animal tales/fables “Fable of the Animals,” 4:14 Family sagas, 1:272, 3:132, 3:181, 4:45, 4:279 “The Fight between the Coyote People and the Bat People,” 4:91 “The Fight with the Giant Witch,” 1:4, 1:64 “Finally Putting to Rest E-Mail Myths,” 4:226 Fire: and culture hero, 4:16; stealing of, 3:23, 3:287, 4:18; symbolism in myth, 2:151, 3:165 “First Out,” 1:316; variant B, 1:317 “The Fish Lover,” 2:298 Fitzsimmons, Robert James “Bob,” 3:238 “Five Civilized Tribes,” 2:2, 2:3, 2:76 “The Five Grizzly Bears,” 4:66, 4:79, 4:89 Flagg, Charles E., 1:295

409

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace “The Fleeing Pancake,” 1:87 Fletcher, Alice C., 1:168 “The Flood,” 1:147, 1:151 “Folk Bible,” 2:291 “Folk speculation”: and legends, 1:271 Folktale, ordinary, 4:280 Foolish John character. See Jean Sot “The Forgetful Boy,” 1:104 Formulaic, 4:280 Fornander, Abraham, 3:312 Fortier, Alcee, 2:225 Foscett, Marshall W. S., 3:133 “Fox and Deer,” 3:115 “Fox and Kingfisher,” 3:115, 3:116 “Fox and Mountain Lion,” 3:115, 3:117 “Fox and Rabbit,” 3:118 “The Fox and the Wolf,” 2:76 “Fox and Wolf,” 1:148, 1:198, 2:59 Fox peoples. See Mesquakie (Fox) “The Fox [Wolf] Hangs by His Teeth to the Horse’s Tail,” 2:77 Foxfire, 1:265 Framing, 4:280 “Free Honda,” 4:235 French influence: Cajun traditions, 2:4; in Caribbean, 2:3; Creole traditions, 2:3–4; French American tales, 2:222, 2:224, 2:312; French and Indian War, 1:148, 1:162; in Midwest, 1:148, 1:179, 1:208; and Native Americans, 2:55; in Northeast, 1:5; in South, 2:3–4 Frisco Affair, 3:63 “Froth of Water,” 1:45

410

“The Further Adventures of NoTongue,” 3:199 Fuseli, John Henry, 1:112 Gabe, 1:28 “Ga’na’a’s Adventures among the Cherokee,” 1:4, 1:5, 1:32 Gardner, Emelyn, 1:97 “Gasoline Company Boycott,” 4:259; variant B, 4:261 “General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana,” 1:149, 1:247 “General John H. Morgan’s Raid Through Southern Indiana II: Ripley County,” 1:253 Genre, 4:280. See also Motifs/tale types Gentry, Jane, 2:79, 2:115, 2:134, 2:137, 2:145, 2:152, 2:155 “George and Saddam,” 4:228 Georgie (African-American), 1:343 German: influence in Mid-Atlantic tradition, 1:262, 1:264, 1:330–35, 1:346, 1:352; influence in Northeast, 1:6; Midwest tales, 1:223; Northeast tales, 1:52, 1:97, 1:107, 1:111, 1:115, 1:121, 1:126, 1:263 “Getting Rid of the Overseer,” 1:263, 1:294 Ghost Dance Religion, 3:269, 3:361 “Ghost Legends of the Blue Mountains,” 1:3, 1:121 “The Ghost of Alex,” 2:209 “The Ghost Penitente,” 3:5, 3:127 “Ghost Wife,” 3:261 “The Ghosts of the Blue Mountain,” 1:6 “The Giant Woman,” 4:55, 66; variant B, 4:58; variant C, 4:60 Gill, Fred, 2:271 “The Girl and the Fish,” 2:298; original version, 2:319 “Girl as helper in hero’s flight” motif, 1:52, 2:272

“The Girl Who Married Her Brother,” 4:71, 4:82 “The Girls Who Married Stars,” 4:61 “The Give-away,” 2:254 “The Giver Creates the World,” 4:7, 4:12, 4:20 Gladden, George, 3:86 Glooscap, 1:4, 1:12; “Glooscap,” 1:12, 1:45 “Gluska’be Steals Summer for the People, Escapes from the Crows, and Overcomes Winter ,” 1:4, 1:15, 1:45 “Gluska’be the Deceiver,” 1:61 “Go to School,” 4:259 “Going to Heaven,” 1:263, 1:358, 1:359 “The Gold Brick,” 4:124 “The Gold Bug,” 1:27 “Goofer dust,” 2:168 “Grandfather’s Escape to Free Haven,” 1:261, 1:272 “Grandmother O-Ne-Ha-Tah, Mother Oo-Kwa-E, and the Lost Boy,” 1:5, 1:20–21 Grandmother Spider, 3:58 “Grandmother’s Revenge,” 4:182 “Di Granni Shdil,” 1:367. See also Granny Steel “Granny Cobb, the Witch,” 1:110, 1:111 “Granny Steel,” 1:6, 1:125; original version, 1:367 Grantham, Ed, 1:243 La Graisse [The Grease Girl], 2:3, 2:312 Graveyard dirt, power of, 2:168 “The Grease Girl,” 2:222; original version, 2:312 “The Great Snowfall,” 4:89 Greeley, Horace, 2:227 Green, Augustine O., 1:317 Green, Valerie, 2:118, 4:217 Grigsby, Jack Robert, 3:86 Grimm, Brothers, 1:55, 1:97

Cumulative Index

“Guantanamo Bay Detainees,” 4:273 Guardian spirit complex, 1:37, 1:64–65, 1:116–17, 4:5 “Guarding the Door,” 2:260 Guerin, Aneus, 2:49, 2:61, 2:71 “Gullibility Virus,” 4:221 “Hag-craft,” 1:342, 1:343 “Hag experience” as cross-cultural psycho-physiological phenomenon, 1:112 “Hag Riding,” 1:112 Haitian Revolution, 2:5 Hall, Julien A., 1:348 Hamilton, Annette, 3:233 “Handshake Assault,” 4:203 Hansel and Gretel, 2:98 “Hardy Hardback,” 2:145 Harris, Joel Chandler, 2:37, 2:94, 2:233 “The Haunted House,” 2:206 “Hawaiian Chant,” 3:275 Haydon, Mrs., 3:344 Hayward, Silvanus, 1:104 “He-Man from the West,” 3:238 Healers: curandero/curandera, 3:121; myths about, 3:284 “Hell, Bob and Me Planted ‘Em,” 3:346 “Hellhound Comes for a Drunkard,” 2:162 “Hellhound on My Trail,” 2:162 “Help from old man” motif, 1:69 “The Helpers,” 2:145 Hembree, William Harry, 4:47 Heracles, 1:45 Herbert, William, 1:354 Los Hermanos Penitente, 3:127 “The Hero Twins,” 3:47 Heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, tales of: Caribbean, 2:245–75; Cyberspace, 4:175–239; MidAtlantic, 1:275–319; Midwest, 1:173–225; Northeast, 1:45–105; Northwest, 4:51–125; Plains and

Plateau, 3:185–239; South, 2:49–157; Southwest, 3:47–119; West, 3:297–352 Hickock, James Butler “Wild Bill,” 1:148, 1:243 Hidatsas, 3:132, 3:206; tales, 3:206 “History of a Buffalo Hunter,” 3:79 Hitchitee/Hitchiti, 2:2, 2:53; tales, 2:94 “HIV Needles,” 4:205 Holding Eagle, James, 3:192, 3:199 Holloway, Samuel D., 1:303 Holmes, Ruth, 1:287, 1:308, 1:315, 1:322 “Home Depot Boycott,” 4:186 Hoodoo: Hoodoo War, 3:86; Brer Rabbit’s use of, 2:27, 2:96; “tricking,” 1:349; vs. witchcraft, 1:348 Hooks, Matthew “Bones,” 3:223 Hopi, 3:57; tales, 3:57, 3:59, 3:60 “Hotline to Heaven,” 4:249 “The House Carpenter,” 2:199 “How Brer Fox Dreamed He Eat ’Possum,” 2:64, 2:83 “How Brer Rabbit Bring Dust Out of the Rock,” 2:5, 2:149 “How Brer Rabbit Practice Medicine,” 2:49–50, 2:66 “How Come Brer Bear Sleep in the Winter,” 2:31 “How Come Mr. Buzzard to Have a Bald Head,” 2:33 “How Come Pigs Can See the Wind,” 2:36 “How Fox Dreamed He Eat Possum,” 2:240 “How Jack Went to Seek His Fortune,” 1:54; version B, 1:57; version C, 1:59 “How Many Aggie Foremen Does It Take,” 4:187 “How Milu Became the King of Ghosts,” 3:284, 3:297 “How Money Cove Got its Name,” 1:4, 1:26

“How Mr. Hare Proved that Mr. Fox Was His Riding Horse,” 1:263, 1:290; original version, 1:373 “How Sheep and Horses and Burros Came to the Zuni,” 3:4, 3:24 “How the Big Turtle Went on the Warpath,” 1:149, 1:187 “How the Coyote Married His Daughter,” 3:339, 3:341 “How the Deer Obtained His Horns,” 2:101 “How the Jays Saved Their Souls,” 1:268 “How the Lee Family Came to Oregon,” 4:6, 4:45 “How the Moors Came to Be in Delaware,” 1:271 “How the Saboba People Came to California,” 3:268, 3:289 “How the Twins Killed the Giant Elk,” 3:59 “How the Twins of War and Chance Fared with the Unborn-Made Men of the Underworld,” 3:52 “How the Twins Visited the Sun,” 3:57, 3:59 “How the Whites Became Rich,” 3:178 “How the Wildcat Got Its Spots,” 1:169 “How Tiyo Punished Man-Eagle,” 3:60 Howard, Mr., 2:174 Howard, Willam T., 2:179 Hufford, David, 1:112 Humboldt Joe, 3:331 Hungarian tales, 1:41, 1:85, 1:132 “Hunting Exploits of the God K’Mukamtch,” 4:65 Huron, 1:4–5, 1:12; contact with the French, 1:5; tales, 1:9, 1:36, 1:116 “Husband Tells of Treasure,” 1:326 Ictinike, 1:149, 1:158 Ignis Fatuous, 1:265

411

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace Imus, Charles, 4:156 “In Liquor,” 1:303 “In the Bee Tree,” 1:300 “In the Cow’s Belly,” 2:257 “Incriminating the Other Fellow,” 2:62; original version, 2:309 Indian Removal Act (1830), 2:2 Indian Territory, 2:2, 2:105, 3:132 Inuit, 4:3, 4:5 Irish American tales: Mid-Atlantic, 1:344; Midwest, 1:194, 1:225; Northeast, 1:81, 1:91; Northwest, 4:156 “The Irishman and the Pumpkin,” 1:225, 2:73, 2:223 Iroquois Confederacy, 1:4–5, 1:128, 1:164; contact with the French, 1:5; legends, 1:4; and Shawnee, 1:148 Irving, Washington, 1:122 Isleta Pueblo: moieties, 3:42; tales, 3:41, 3:47, 3:109; Tiwa, 3:42 “It Was So Cold That…,” 1:147, 1:216 Ivanoff, Mrs. R., 3:238 “Jack and the Bean Pole,” 1:262, 1:275 “Jack and the Bean Tree,” 2:5, 2:98 “Jack and the Beanstalk,” 2:6, 2:134 “Jack and the Fire Dragaman,” 2:140 “Jack-O’-M-Lantern,” 1:371 “Jack-O’-My-Lantern,” 1:265, 1:327; original version, 1:371 “Jack the Giant Killer,” 2:6, 2:79 Jackson, Henry, Jr., 1:190

412

Jackson, “Pappy,” 2:220 Jackson, Thomas, 4:116 “Jake Strauss,” 1:6, 1:115; original version, 1:368 “James Harris,” 2:199 “Jane Fonda Nomination,” 4:189; variant B, 4:191 “Jean Sot Feeds Cows Needles,” 2:4, 2:110 Jean Sot, 2:4; stock character, 2:113 “Jean Sot Kills the Duck,” 2:4, 2:111 “Jean Sot and the Cowhide,” 2:113 Jeffries, James Jackson “Jim,” 3:238 Jenkins, Julius, 2:204 Jenks, Albert Ernest, 1:173 “Jim Johns and the Tiger,” 2:217 John and Master tales, 1:263, 1:360, 2:122, 2:126 “John Kerry’s Medals,” 4:166 “John the Fool and John the Smart,” 2:262 Johnson, Arthur John “Jack,” 3:238 Johnson, Elsie, 1:321 Johnson, Josephine, 1:306 Johnson, Robert, 1:354, 2:37, 2:162 Johnson, Sextus E., 3:241 “Joke on Jake,” 3:132, 3:233 Jokes, 1:104, 1:148, 1:263, 1:357, 1:359, 2:73, 2:120, 2:167, 2:208, 4:100; articulating intergroup strife, 2:259; beleaguered wife stock character, 2:167; Boudreaux stock character, 2:119; Cajun jokes, 2:119; drunkard stock character, 2:167; ethnic, 1:225, 1:263, 1:309, 1:310, 1:312, 1:313, 1:317, 2:73, 2:74, 2:75, 2:223, 2:260, 3:233; master/slave, 1:263, 1:358, 1:360, 2:122; myth parody, 2:243; practical, 4:100; Preacher as stock character, 1:315, 2:78, 2:167, 2:206. See also African American jokes; John and Master tales Joseph, Termeus, 2:286

Joshua, 4:7; tales, 4:7, 4:74, 4:86 “Judgment Day,” 1:357 “Jumping into the Breeches,” 1:310 Kalapuya, 4:142; tales, 4:142 “Kamapuaa on Oahu and Kauai,” 3:318 “Kampuaa Legends: Legends of the Hog God,” 3:312 “Kanati and Selu: The Origin of Corn and Game,” 2:11, Karok, 4:14; tales, 4:14, 4:16, 4:25 “Katrina Blunders,” 4:275 “Katrina Worker Report,” 4:208 Kearny, Stephen W., 3:5 “Keeping off Witches,” 1:343 “Kentucky Fried Chicken Becomes KFC,” 4:165 Kickapoo, 1:147, 1:149, 1:162, 1:164–65; tales, 1:188 Kidd, Captain, 1:27 “The Killing of the Dutchman,” 4:94 “The Kind and the Unkind Girls,” 2:224 “The King and Old George Buchanan,” 2:132 Klamath Billie, 4:18, 4:28, 4:71, 4:79, 4:82, 4:83, 4:84, 4:91, 4:92, 4:96 Kroeber, A. L., 3:179, 4:37 La Foria, 3:17, 3:19, 3:22, 3:114 La Patten, 1:292 Lakota, 3:132; Ogalala (Sioux), 3:188, 3:227, 3:254; tales, 3:188 “Lazy Jack and His Calf Skin,” 1:77, 2:115 “Lazy Maria,” 1:97 “ Legend of Sattik,” 4:4, 4:140 “Legend of the Breadfruit Tree,” 3:269, 3:292 “Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe,” 3:132, 3:251 “Legendary Origin of the Kickapoos,” 1:149, 1:164

Cumulative Index

Legends, 1:328, 1:344, 1:347, 1:353, 1:354, 2:155, 3:84, 3:181, 4:54, 4:280; local, 1:148, 1:236, 1:262, 1:282, 1:326, 1:338, 3:233, 4:280; of lost treasures/gold mines, 3:93; and myths (examples), 3:251, 3:282; with personal experience narrative (hybrid genre), 4:47; romanticizing of frontier violence, 4:95; supernatural, 1:324, 2:172, 2:181, 2:193, 2:289, 3:121; uses of, 1:271, 1:342, 2:197 Lenexa, 1:164 “Lies Too Far Apart,” 1:263, 1:318, 2:126 “Life Lessons,” 4:246 “Life Without Black People,” 4:170 Lindsey, Robert, 3:220 “The Lion and the Unicorn,” 2:87 “Lion Brooks No Rival,” 1:305 Lion, Newell, 1:15, 45, 61 “The Little Alligator’s Problem,” 4:258 “The Little Cakeen,” 1:87 “Little Girl, Mama Glau, and Humming-Bird,” 1:4, 1:42; original version, 1:363 “The Little Man,” 1:124 Loa/lwa, 2:286–87 Lockheart, Sol, 2:163 Lonely habitats, 1:3 “Long Tail and Spotted Body Rescue their Nephews Who Become the Twin Monster Killers,” 3:206 Longley, Bill (William Preston), 3:86 “The Lord and Langton,” 1:359 Losero, José Pedro, 3:289 Loup garou, 2:286, 2:289 Lovewinner, Nate “Deadwood Dick,” 3:224 Lowry, Annie, 3:326 Luiseño, 3:268, 3:289; tales, 3:365 Lummis, Charles, 3:47

Lying, tales of, 1:91, 1:92, 2:79, 4:138 Madden, Joseph, 2:207 “The Maddest Man in Town,” 4:156 Magic: sympathetic, 1:352, 2:178 “The Magic Cowhide,” 2:115 “Magic Flight,” 1:262, 2:271 “Magic stick beats person” motif, 1:69 “Magic wishing object” motif, 1:69 “Magical Flight,” 3:257 Maidu, 3:339; tales, 3:339, 3:341 “The Making of the World,” 1:5, 1:12, 1:37, 3:277 Maliseet, 1:4; tales, 1:12, 1:29 “Mall Abduction Ploys,” 4:196 “The Man and Woman Who Became Sea-Otters,” 4:146, 4:148 “The Man Who Brought Water to Atami,” 3:364 Manabozho, 1:151; “Manabozho Gets Scared and Takes a Journey,” 1:202 Mandan, 1:149, 3:132, 3:160, 3:192; “four-nights’ story,” 3:193; tales, 3:193, 3:199 Manitous, 1:166 Maples, Eldora Scott, 2:209 Märchen (European), 2:94, 2:137, 2:145, 2:152, 2:222, 2:224, 2:233 Maria Antonia, 3:124 Marius, Ulysse, 2:289 “Mark Flaherty,” 1:262, 1:344 “The Marmot Woman,” 4:136 “The Marvelous Potato,” 2:131 “The Marvelous Vegetable,” 2:132 Mason County War, 3:86 “Mate to the Death,” 1:353 “Matthew ‘Bones’ Hooks, Cowboy,” 3:132, 3:224 Matthews, Washington, 3:36 Mattice, Fred, 1:109 Mattoal, 4:141; tales, 4:140

“Meeting with Wovoka,” 3:269, 361 Menominee, 1:178; tales, 1:178, 1:198 Mesquakie (Fox), 1:147, 1:149, 1:159; “People of the Red Earth,” 1:167; tales, 1:148, 1:160, 1:162, 1:165, 1:193 “Meteor Hell! Cicero Done It!,” 3:3, 3:103 Mexican American tales, 3:63, 3:79, 3:121, 3:124, 3:125 Mexican War, 3:5, 133 Mid-Atlantic: cultural influences/ethnic traditions, 1:261–62; extent of, 1:261; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 1:275–319; origins, tales of, 1:265–74; and Native American influences, 1:262; North-South split, 1:261; sacred tales of the supernatural, 1:321–55; secular tales of the supernatural, 1:357–62; topography, 1:261 Midwest: extent of, 1:147; Great Lakes influence, 1:147; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 1:173–225; multicultural aspects of, 1:149; origins, tales of, 1:151–71; sacred tales of the supernatural, 1:227–42; secular tales of the supernatural, 1:243–58; sense of region, 1:149 Miller, Della, 1:77 “ Miller’s Witch Wife,” 2:6, 2:171, 2:197, 3:123 “Miraculous Healing by One of the Three Nephites,” 3:250 “Mistaken Identities,” 1:311 Moapa (Southern Paiute), 3:278–79; tales, 3:279 Modoc, 4:65; tales, 4:65, 115 Mohawk nation, 1:5, 1:29 “The Mohawks on the War-Path,” 1:4, 1:28 “Money Talks,” 4:267

413

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace Mono, 3:268, 3:277; tales, 3:277, 3:306, 3:335, 3:367, 3:369 “Moon Cheese: Two Irishmen at the Well,” 1:263, 1:312 Mooney, James, 2:176 Morgan, John Hunt, 1:248 Morgan, Richard, 2:242 Mormons, 3:133, 3:241 Morris, Lucy, 1:278 Moses, 1:45 Mother Corn Ceremony, 3:160 “Mother Holle,” 1:97 “The Mother of All Urban Legends,” 4:223 Motifs/tale types, 4:280; aimless wandering of trickster, 1:202; animal/fish allows itself to be taken, 4:4; animal motifs, 1:45, 1:55; animal spouse motif, 1:337, 2:277, 2:298; “awl elbow witches,” 1:179; bargain with death, 2:161; belief tales, 1:120; brain over brawn, 2:238; cannibal figure, 2:98, 2:100, 3:173, 3:200, 4:55; Cinderella, 1:50, 3:4, 3:77; composites (examples of), 1:304; dead horse, 2:59; demon lover, 2:199; Devil’s questions, 2:199; divided village (Wichita motif), 3:213; dog ghosts, 1:327; “earthd iver,” 1:9, 1:151, 1:160, 3:277; Earth Mother, 1:9; evil father-inlaw, 1:179; exile, 1:45; exploiting trust of romantic rival, 1:270; extraordinary birth, 1:45; “fall from grace,” 2:19; “fatal deception,” 1:297; girl helper in hero’s flight, 1:52, 2:272; Jack tales, 2:5,

414

2:149; John and Master tales, 1:263; jokes, 1:148; kind and unkind, 1:73; lying, tales of, 1:91, 1:92, 3:103; magic canoe, 1:179; magic object, 1:69; magic stick beats person, 1:69; “mock plea,” 1:295; numbskull stories, 1:311, 2:75, 2:121; Obstacle Flight, 2:199, 2:205, 3:255; ogres duped to fight each other, 2:79; ordinary folktales, 1:179; orphan and grandparents, 4:79; personal experience narratives, 1:148, 1:149; pirate legends, 1:4, 1:26; rolling skull, 1:239; rope to climb to heavens, 4:93; sacred numbers, 3:7, 3:36; shape-shifting, 1:122, 1:337, 2:86, 2:249, 2:286; “squeezing the stone,” 2:79; Star Husband Type I (wish to marry a star), 4:61; stupid stories depending on a pun, 2:111; tarbaby, 2:55; task for suitors/bride as prize, 1:69; theft of butter (honey) by playing godfather, 2:64, 2:240; transformation motifs, 1:110, 3:257; trial of three brothers, 2:273; trickster greed, 1:196, 1:289, 2:106; twins, 1:9, 1:12, 2:11, 3:47, 3:52, 3:206, 3:213; two sisters, 3:8; “unfinished business,” 1:324; and validating devices, 1:227; wisdom of age, 2:107, 2:221; wish to marry a star (Star Husband Type I), 1:176; witches “riding” victims, 1:110; young woman defying parent, 4:38 Mountain Chief, Walter, 3:257 “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse,” 1:290, 2:4, 2:56, 2:58; original version, 2:307 “Mr. Hard-Time,” 1:310, 2:260 “Mr. Hard-times,” 1:310 “Mr. Jones’s Advice,” 4:175

“Mr. Peacock and the Deadly Ghost,” 1:328; original version, 1:376 Miss K.’s Father, 1:346 Murray, Harry, 2:243 “Muskrat’s Tail,” 1:149, 1:168 “My Son Ali,” 1:100 “The Mysterious Deer,” 2:197 Myths, 4:280; alternative look at original sin, 2:231; and legends (examples), 3:251, 3:282; memory culture vs. sacred narrative, 3:279; and primary food groups for Native Americans, 2:18; uses, 3:297; Ute, 3:173 Nakassungnaitut, 4:37 “Nancy and the Honey Tree,” 2:235 Nancy, Ann, 2:33 “Nancy fools His Wife,” 2:248, 2:270 Narcom, W. P., 1:301 Narrative performance, 1:41 Natchez, 2:2; tales, 2:18, 2:53 Native American cultures: in Caribbean, 2:1–2; Indian Removal Act (1830), 2:2; of MidAtlantic, 1:262; of Midwest, 1:147–49; of Northeast, 1:4; in Northwest, 4:3–5; in Plains and Plateau, 3:131–33; of South, 2:2; in Southwest, 3:4–5; in West, 3:268 Native American tales: Achomawi, 3:271; Acoma Pueblo, 3:7; Alabama, 2:21, 2:98, 2:100; Aleut, 4:42, 4:146, 4:148, 4:151; Alsea, 4:117; Apache, 3:17, 3:20, 3:22, 3:115; Arikara, 3:159; Biloxi, 2:54; Blackfoot, 3:257; Cherokee, 2:11, 2:29, 2:35, 2:101, 2:175, 2:213; Cheyenne, 3:178, 3:185, 3:262, 3:361; Chinook, 4:43, 4:100, 4:113, 4:127; Comanche, 3:230; Coos, 4:11, 4:55, 4:66; Creek, 2:58,

Cumulative Index

2:103, 2:105, 2:151; Dakota, 3:261; Eskimo, 4:32, 4:34, 4:36, 4:38, 4:54, 4:98, 4:143, 4:145; Hidatsa, 3:206; Hitchitee, 2:94; Hopi, 3:57, 3:59, 3:60; Huron, 1:9, 1:36, 1:116; Joshua, 4:7, 4:20, 4:74, 4:86; Kalapuya, 4:142; Karok, 4:14, 4:16, 4:25; Luiseño, 3:365; Maidu, 3:339, 3:341; Maliseet, 1:12, 1:29; Mandan, 3:192, 3:199; Mattoal, 4:141; Menominee, 1:178, 1:198; Mesquakie (Fox), 1:159, 1:162, 1:165, 1:193; Modoc, 4:65, 4:115; Mono, 3:277, 3:306, 3:335, 3:367, 3:369; Natchez, 2:18, 2:53; Ojibwa (Great Lakes), 1:151, 1:173, 1:202; Omaha, 1:158, 1:168, 1:188, 1:196, 1:239; Onondaga, 1:20, 3:327; Oto, 1:176; Paiute, 3:278, 3:287, 3:331, 3:342; Papago, 3:111; Passamoquoddy, 1:17, 1:64; Penobscot, 1:16, 1:45, 1:62, 1:69; Seneca, 1:32, 1:127, 1:188; Shasta, 4:18, 4:28, 4:71, 4:79, 4:82, 4:83, 4:85, 4:91, 4:92, 4:96; Shawnee, 1:164, 1:169, 1:170; Sioux, 3:188, 3:227, 3:251, 3:254; Tiwa, 3:42, 3:47, 3:109; Tlingit, 4:133; Ts’ets’a¯út, 4:27, 4:29, 4:40, 4:51, 4:61, 4:89, 4:136, 4:138; Ute, 3:164, 3:173; Wichita, 3:135, 3:136–59, 3:212; Winnebago, 1:188, 1:207, 1:227; Yurok, 3:344; Zuni Pueblo, 3:24, 3:52, 3:77 Natural context, 4:280 Navajo, 3:4; importance of “four,” 3:36; tales, 3:35 “The Navy Seal and the Atheist,” 4:178 Naylor, William D., 2:127 “Nebraska Weather,” 1:148, 1:223 “Neiman Marcus Cookies,” 4:265

“New Hampshire Witches,” 1:112, 1:342 New Jersey, 1:261 New Plymouth, 1:5 Newell, William Wells, 1:121, 1:265 “The Night Beauty,” 2:4, 2:281, 2:285 “Night-hag,” 1:342, 1:347, 2:172, 2:174, 2:178 “The Nightmare,” 1:112 Nights with Uncle Remus, 2:37 “90# Scam,” 4:216; variant B, 4:217 “Nobleman and the Minister,” 1:132 “Noggin and the Applejack,” 1:147, 1:219 “Noqoìlpi, the Gambler,” 3:4, 3:35 Northeast: diversity, 1:6; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 1:45–105; extent of, 1:3; origins, tales of, 1:9–44; populations, 1:3; sacred tales of the supernatural, 1:107–30; secular tales of the supernatural, 1:131–44; terrain, 1:3 Northern Plains Classic cultures (Native American), 3:132, 3:251 Northwest: Arctic and sub-Arctic environments, 4:5; Arctic and sub-Arctic social organization, 4:6; European influence, 4:6; extent of, 4:3; heroes/heroines/ tricksters/fools, 4:51–125; logging camp raconteur, 4:120; Native American cultures, 4:3; origins, tales of, 4:7–49; Pacific Northwest, 4:3; sacred tales of the supernatural, 4:127–49; salmon, importance of, 4:3, 4; secular tales of the supernatural, 4:151–59; social stratification (Northwest Coast societies), 4:4–5; and sororal polygyny, 4:97; terrain, 4:3–4 Nuliajuk, 4:33

Numbers, formulaic use of, 3:7, 3:36 Numskull stories, 1:311, 1:312, 4:280; “Numskull Talks to Himself and Frightens Robbers Away,” 2:113 “Obstacle Flight,” 1:278, 3:255 Occupations, tales about, 1:4, 1:149 Ogoun, 2:20, 2:287 Ojibway (Chippewa), 1:162; tales, 1:147, 1:151, 1:202 “Ol’ Rabbit An’ De Dawg He Stole,” 2:42; original version, 2:301 “Old Bluebeard,” 2:137; variant B (“Jack and the Fire Dragaman”), 2:140 “Old Foster,” 2:98, 2:155 “Old William,” 2:198 “The Old Woman and Her Child,” 2:285 Omahas, 1:148, 1:149; tales, 1:158, 1:168, 1:188, 1:196, 1:239 “On Horseback,” 1:290, 2:4, 2:56, 2:58, 2:61, 2:258 “One of the Three Nephites Brings a Special Spiritual Message,” 3:248 Oneida nation, 1:5 Onondaga nation, 1:5, 1:20; tales, 1:21 “Organ Theft Parody,” 4:225 “Origin of Acoma,” 2:11, 3:4, 3:17, 3:42 “The Origin of Corn,” 2:18 “The Origin of Death,” 4:28; differences from Judaeo-Christian tradition, 4:29 “Origin of Fire,” 3:22, 4:16, 4:26 “Origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman,” 4:32, 4:34, 4:36 “Origin of the Alabama Indians,” 2:21 “Origin of the Animals,” 3:19 “Origin of the Apaches,” 3:17

415

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace “Origin of the Bear: The Bear Songs,” 2:28 “The Origin of the Narwhal,” 4:34 “The Origin of the Sauks and Foxes,” 1:165 “The Origin of the Seasons and of the Mountains,” 4:27, 4:30; similarities to Tlingit narrative, 4:27 “Origin of the Universe,” 3:132, 3:213 “The Origin of Vegetation,” 1:149, 1:158 “The Origin of Woman,” 2:243; original version, 2:314 Origins: tales of, 2:25; Caribbean, 2:231–44; Cyber Region, 4:165–74; Mid-Atlantic, 1:265–74; Midwest, 1:151–71; Northeast, 1:9–44; Northwest, 4:7–49; Plains and Plateau, 3:135–84; South, 2:11–48; Southwest, 3:7–45; West, 3:271–96 “The Orphan and the Turkeys,” 1:196, 1:202 Osagiwag`. See Sauk Otos, 1:148, 1:149; tales, 1:149, 1:176 “Out of Her Skin,” 1:263, 1:334, 1:335 “Out of Their Skins,” 1:335, 1:341 “Outwitting the King,” 1:7, 1:89 Ozarks, 2:5 Pa-skin, 1:173 Paiute: “football,” 3:327; Northern (Paviotso), 3:287; Southern

416

(Moapa), 3:278; tales, 3:278, 3:288, 3:326, 3:331, 3:342 Palmer, Francis L., 1:54 Papa, 3:293 Papago, 3:111; tales, 3:111 Parsiow, Alonzo, 1:91 Parsons, Elsie Clews, 1:94, 1:262, 1:298, 1:309, 2:5, 3:77 Passamoquoddy: tales, 1:17, 1:64 “Paul Heym, the Wizard of Lebanon,” 1:122 Pavawut, 3:365 Pawnee: Skidi and Arikaras, 3:160 “Pele and Kamapuaa,” 3:322 “Pele’s Long Sleep,” 3:269, 3:353 Pennsylvania Dutch, 1:6 Penny, Charles, 1:42, 1:363 Penobscot, 1:4, 1:12; tales, 1:5, 1:16, 1:45, 1:61, 1:69 People of the Red Earth. See Mesquakie (Fox) “Perfume Mugger,” 4:199; variant B, 4:200; variant C, 4:201 Personal experience narrative, 1:148, 1:149, 1:243, 1:264, 1:330, 1:334, 1:343, 1:347, 2:6, 2:46, 2:123, 2:124, 2:162, 2:168, 2:217, 3:68, 3:80, 3:86, 3:224, 3:233, 3:362, 4:95, 4:121, 4:124, 4:157, 4:280; “testimony,” 2:163 Personal legend, 4:280 Personal vision quests, 3:193 Peterson, Albert, 1:93 Phillips, Percy, 3:251 “Phoebe Ward, Witch,” 2:172, 2:181 Phratries, 1:170 Pickett, William “Bill,” 3:224 Pilgrims, 1:5 Pimona, Molly Kinsman, 3:277, 3:369, 3:377 Pirate legends, 1:4, 1:26 Plains and Plateau: extent of, 3:131; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 3:185–239; Hispanic influences, 3:132; horses, introduction of,

3:132, 3:179, 3:230; Mormons, 3:133; Native American inhabitants, 3:131–33; origins, tales of, 3:135–84; sacred tales of the supernatural, 3:241–63 Plains people, 3:4 “Playing Dead Twice in the Road,” 1:263; variant A, 1:285; variant B, 1:286; variant C, 1:286 “Playing Godfather,” 1:287, 2:64, 2:67, 2:240 “Playing Mourner,” 2:64, 2:240 Poe, Edgar Allan, 1:27 “Poison Payphone,” 4:205 “Poison Perfume,” 4:198; variant B, 4:199 “Poisoned Coca-Cola,” 4:269 Polish tales, 1:131 Ponca, 1:149 Poohegans, 1:64–65 Porcupine, 1:21; tale bearer, 3:361 “Possessed of Two Spirits,” 2:164, 2:167 “Possum and Weasel Have a Falling Out,” 1:288 Pow-wowing, 1:122, 1:264, 1:330 Power and social stratification theme, 1:41, 1:86 “Prairie Falcon’s Contest with Meadowlark,” 3:335, 3:367 Pratt, 1:359 “President Bush’s IQ,” 4:255 “Priceless,” 4:188 Privett, Mollie, 3:68 Privett, Samuel Thomas (“Booger Red”), 3:4, 3:68 “Proctor and Gamble and Liz Claiborne Confess to Church of Satan on Sally,” 4:242 Protest tales, 2:227; and modeling oppression, 2:233 “Providence Hole,” 1:148, 1:236, 1:238 Pueblo, 3:4; matrilineal clans, 3:8 “Pumpkin Sold as an Ass’s Egg,” 2:73

Cumulative Index

“Qautipalung,” 4:145, 4:148 “Qauxsaqssuq,” 4:54 “Rabbit and Big Man-Eater,” 2:100 “The Rabbit and the Frenchman,” 2:4, 2:49, 2:54, 2:233 “Rabbit Escapes from the Pea Patch,” 1:262, 1:298 “Rabbit Fools Alligator,” 2:103 “Rabbit, Fox, and the Tarbaby,” 1:263, 1:295 “Rabbit Gets a Turkey for Wildcat,” 2:105 “Rabbit Kills Big Man-Eater,” 2:98, 3:173 “Rabbit Makes Deer His Riding Horse,” 2:61 “Rabbit Rides Wolf,” 1:291, 2:4, 2:56, 2:58 “Rabbit Seeks Meat,” 1:262, 1:303 “Rabbit Steals Fire,” 2:151 “The Race,” 1:314 “Race with a Ghost,” 2:207 Racial tension, 1:6–7; tales of racism, 3:132, 3:224 Railroad Tom, 3:330 “Railway Chefs,” 1:4, 1:6–7, 1:138 “Range Life in Texas,” 3:3–4, 3:86 “Rank,” 1:263, 1:361 “The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance,” 2:35 “The Raven Mocker,” 2:175 “Recovering the Sun,” 4:38 “Red Bull,” 4:168 “Redneck Vasectomy,” 4:232 Reece, Harry, 3:98, 3:103, 3:346 “Rescue by Lightning,” 1:238 “Rescued from the Loups Garous by Loa Saint James,” 2:286 “Restroom Kidnapping,” 4:202 “Return of Siegfried,” 1:122 “Return of the Ghost Wife,” 2:195 Revenants, belief in, 2:193, 2:196 Rhetta, Boyd, 1:303 “The Rich Adolescent’s Chain Letter,” 4:237

“The Rich Ghost,” 2:194 “Riders Pursued by Ghosts,” 2:196 Ridge Walker, 3:361 “Rip Van Winkle,” 1:122 Rivers, John, 1:216, 1:219 “The Robber Bridegroom,” 2:155 Robertson, Middleton, 1:247 Robertson, Steve, 3:98, 3:103 “Robin and Blue Jay,” 4:113 Robinson, Braziel, 2:164, 2:167 “The Rolling Skull,” 1:149, 1:239, 3:255 Romulus and Remus, 1:45 “Rose,” 1:50, 1:337 “Rough justice” of small communities, 2:219 Roys, Fred, 4:120 “Runaway Scrape,” 2:22 Rural experience, 1:7 “Rusty Jack,” 1:77 S., T., 1:194 Saboba, 3:268, 3:289; tales, 3:289 “The Sack of Peas and the Mule,” 2:71 Sacred tales of the supernatural: Caribbean, 2:277–90; Cyber Region, 4:241–51; Mid-Atlantic, 1:321–55; Midwest, 1:227–42; Northeast, 1:107–30; Northwest, 4:127–49; Plains and Plateau, 3:241–63; South, 2:159–215; Southwest, 3:121–28; West, 3:353–86 “The Sad Woman,” 4:42 Salt as antidote to evil (cross-cultural belief), 1:335, 1:337 Sanpwels, 2:289 Santeria, 2:20 Sauk, 1:147, 1:162, 1:166, 1:193 Scots-Irish tales, 1:243 Scott, Billy, 2:209 “The Sea Tick and the Irishman,” 1:225, 2:74, 2:223 “The Secret Room,” 1:107

Secular tales of the supernatural: Caribbean, 2:291–300; Cyber Region, 4:253–78; Mid-Atlantic, 1:357–62; Midwest, 1:243–58; Northeast, 1:131–44; Northwest, 4:151–59; South, 2:217–27 Sedna, 4:33 “Seeking Trouble,” 2:251; original versions, 2:315–18; variant B, 2:253; variant C, 2:254 Seeney, Helen, 1:279, 1:334, 1:335 Selmore, Peter, 1:17 Seminoles, 2:2, 2:76; and Africandescended population, 2:2 Seneca nation, 1:5; tales, 1:32, 1:127, 1:188 Seoqgwageono, 1:33 Sequoia, 2:2; transcription syllabary, 2:2, 2:29 “7-Eleven Terrorism,” 4:271 Shaman traditions (Eskimo), 4:54, 4:144 Shape-shifting, 1:122, 1:337, 2:27, 2:53, 2:79, 2:249, 2:286, 4:51; recognition of, 1:338, 4:136. See also Transformation motifs Shasta, 4:18, 4:29, 4:83; tales, 4:18, 4:28, 4:71, 4:79, 4:82, 4:83, 4:84, 4:91, 4:92, 4:96 Shawnee, 1:148, 1:149, 1:164; clans, 1:169, 1:170; tales, 1:164, 1:169, 1:170 “Shooting Grasshoppers,” 2:75 Shoshonean Comanches, and Algonquian peoples, 1:148; and the horse, 3:5 “Signifying” (rhetorical device), 2:85, 2:104 Sikes, W. Wirt, 1:265 “Silver Fox Creates the World and Humans,” 3:271 Simpson, George Eaton, 2:287 “The Singing Bone,” 2:285 Singing Jack, 3:372 “The Single Ball,” 1:263, 1:318

417

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace Siouans, 1:176; and Algonquian peoples, 1:148 Siwash, 3:289 “The Six Witches,” 1:350 Skeidler, E. O., 1:223 Skinner, Alanson, 1:179 “Slavemaster,” 4:218 Smalley, Lisa, 2:119 Smith, Jane Lee, 4:45 Smith, Mary, 1:275, 1:314 Smith, Pedro, 2:248 “The Snake-Wife,” 1:263, 1:336 “Sol Lockheart’s Call,” 2:163 “The Solomon Cycle,” 2:291 “Some of Coyote’s Adventures,” 3:111 Somers, Abe, 3:361 “Sonachi,” 3:25 “The Song of the Coffee Pot,” 1:4, 1:134 “Soul or Sole,” 1:354 South: Appalachian region, 2:5–6; Cajun traditions, 2:4; Creole traditions, 2:3; diversity of, 2:1; extent of, 2:1; heroes/heroines/ tricksters/fools, 2:49–157; influence of African cultures on, 2:4–5; influence of Caribbean on, 2:5; Native American cultures, 2:2; origins, tales of, 2:11–48; sacred tales of the supernatural, 2:159–215; secular tales of the supernatural, 2:217–27; terrain, 2:1; unifying factors in tales, 2:6 Southwest: cultures influencing the region, 3:4; extent of, 3:3; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 3:47–119; occupations and oral

418

tradition, 3:3–4; origins, tales of, 3:7–45; sacred tales of the supernatural, 3:121–28; terrain, 3:3 Spanish influence: in Caribbean, 2:3; in Plains and Plateau, 3:132; in Southwest, 3:5, 3:77; Spanish American tales, 3:123, 3:127; in West (California and Nevada), 3:268 “The Spanish Moss,” 2:160 “The Sperrit House,” 2:257SpiderWoman, 3:58, 3:60 “Spielberg’s Crusade (Parody?),” 4:169 “The Spirit Defenders of Nïkwäsï, 2:213 Spriggs, Leroy, 1:138 St. James, 2:286–87 Star Husband Type tale, 1:176 Status elevation after exile motif, 1:45 Steiner, Roland, 2:163 Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1:27 Stewart, Gladys, 1:288 Stewart, Sam, 3:125 Stock character, 4:280 “The Stone Boy,” 3:188 “The Story of Lodge Boy, AfterBirth Boy, and Double-Face,” 2:11 “The Story of No-Tongue,” 3:192, 3:206; further adventures, 3:199–205 “The Story of Skunk,” 4:116 “The Suit the Sparrow Won,” 1:140; original version, 1:369 Sullivan, John L., 3:238 Supernatural legends: blacksmith, significance of, 2:20; continuity of dead with living, 2:209; envy as a motivator for attack, 1:333; haunting of violent death site, 1:124. See also Sacred tales of the supernatural; Secular tales of the supernatural

“Supernatural Legends of Chappaquiddick,” 1:3, 1:123 Swamp “goblin,” 1:265 Swanton, John R., 2:76 Sweat lodge, 3:189 Syrian American tales, 1:89, 1:134 “T-Bone Steak,” 4:179 “The Table, the Ass, and the Stick,” 2:273 “Tablecloth, Donkey, and Club,” 1:262, 1:279, 2:273 Taboo/tabu, 3:293, 4:141; food sources, 4:127 “The Tail Fisher,” 2:239 Taino, 2:1–2 Takanakapsaluk, 4:33 “Take My Place,” 1:297 “Tales from Northern Michigan,” 4:231. See also Animal tales/fables “Tales of Fox,” 3:114–19 Tales, variations in (examples), 3:369–86 “The Talking Eggs,” 2:4, 2:224 Tall tales, 1:147, 1:148, 1:216, 1:220, 1:223, 2:75, 2:123, 2:125, 2:127, 2:130, 2:131, 3:238, 4:280; environmental focus, 2:132, 3:3, 3:98, 3:103, 3:346; framing devices, 3:99; Pennsylvania, 1:6; traditional motifs, 2:131 “The Tarbaby,” 2:2, 2:49, 2:52, 2:233 “The Tarbaby and the Rabbit,” 2:233 Tasks for suitor/bride as prize motif, 1:69 “The Tasks of Rabbit,” 2:53, 2:93 Taylor, Archer, 1:225 “Teamster Boycott,” 4:184 “Terrorist Halloween Attacks on Malls,” 4:268 Texas Revolution (1836), 2:22 “The Theft of Fire,” 3:287, 4:14, 4:18, 4:29

Cumulative Index

“The Theft of Pine Nuts,” 3:331 “Them Petrified Buzzards,” 3:3, 3:98, 3:103 “The Thief at the Haunted House,” 1:326 Thomas, Mary, 1:272 Thompson, Stith, 4:61 “The Three Brothers and the Hag,” 1:72 “Three Ends,” 1:309 “The Three Little Pigs,” 1:301 “Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf,” 2:36 “Three Men of Galway,” 1:4, 1:81 “Three More Fools,” 1:310 “The Three Nephites,” 3:133, 3:241–50 “The Three Sons,” 2:273 Thruston, H. S., 1:59 “Thunder and His Son-In-Law,” 4:96 Thunderbird, 1:227 “The Thunderers,” 1:36 “Thursdays Off,” 1:4, 1:40 “Ti Jean Cannot Tell a Lie,” 2:118 Ti-Malice, 2:262 “Ticket Rip-Off,” 4:257 “Tijaiha the Sorcerer,” 1:5, 1:116 “Tim Murphy’s Escape,” 1:4, 1:7, 1:91 Tlingit, 4:3, 4:27, 4:40, 4:134, 4:136, 4:138; tales, 4:133 “To Torment Already,” 1:263, 1:360 “Toilet Paper Miracle,” 4:233 Totem poles, 4:4 “‘Touched by and Angel’ Cancellation,” 4:244 Transcriptions, difficulties with dialect, 1:328 Transformation motifs, 2:236, 3:213, 4:40; human-to-constellations, 3:257; of witches, 1:110, 2:171 (see also Shape-shifting) “Trapping a Hag,” 1:342 “The Traveler,” 1:227

“The Traveling Preacher at the Haunted House,” 1:321, 1:323 Treasure Island, 1:27 “Tricking,” 1:349; Mole, 3:60 Trickster legends, 1:7, 1:149, 4:280; African American, 1:263; aimless wandering, 1:202; Anansi, 2:33, 2:236, 2:252; Ann Nancy, 2:33; Antelope Boy, 3:42; antisocial behavior of tricksters, 3:341; arrogance flaw, 1:314; attributes, 2:94, 2:106, 2:233, 3:344, 4:65, 4:86; Big Turtle, 1:149, 1:188; Black Cat, 1:17; Blue Jay, 4:100, 4:113; Brer Rabbit (African American trickster), 2:5, 2:27, 2:78, 2:83, 2:85, 2:106, 2:233; Buzzard (wrath in trickster tales), 1:300, 1:306; Cockroach, 2:242; “courting tricks,” 2:149; Coyote, 3:109, 3:111, 3:228, 3:268, 3:306, 3:331, 3:336, 3:339, 3:341, 3:343, 3:367, 4:26, 4:74, 4:79; Fox, 1:293, 2:83, 3:22–23, 3:115; Glooscap, 1:4, 1:64–65; Gluska’be, 1:16, 1:62; Ictinike, 1:149, 1:158; and imitation, 3:109; impulsivity, 4:74; Manabozho, 1:151, 1:202; Orphan, 1:196; pairing with dupe, 1:198, 2:64; Rabbit, 1:196, 1:269, 1:281, 1:283, 1:295, 1:297, 1:300, 1:306, 2:32, 2:61, 2:252; Raven, 4:40, 4:99; theft of food, 2:240; Ti Jean (Little John), 2:119; Ti-Malice, 2:262; Wolf (as dupe), 1:283, 1:297, 2:62, 2:67; Zomo the Hare (West Africa), 2:94. See also Heroes/heroines/ tricksters/fools, tales of “Trouble (Rabbit Loses His Tail),” 1:269 Tsatiselu, 3:24, 3:77 Ts’ets’a¯út, 4:27; influence of Tlingit, 4:136; tales, 4:27, 4:29,

4:40, 4:51, 4:61, 4:89, 4:136, 4:138 “Der Tshe¯k Shtraus,”, 1:368. See also “Jake Strauss” “The Turkey Herd,” 3:4, 3:77 Turtle, 1:207; “Turtle Trying to Get Credit,” 1:148, 1:207 “Turtle Trying to Get Credit,” 1:148, 1:207 Tuscarora nation, 1:5, 1:33 Twadell, James E., 4:94 Twins, 1:9, 1:12, 2:11, 3:206 “The Twist-Mouth Family,” 1:143 “The Two Boys Who Slew Monsters and Became Stars,” 2:12, 3:47, 3:212, 4:61 “Two Faces,” 3:262 Unangan, 4:42 “Under the Green Old Oak Tree,” 2:283 Unifying factors in tales, 1:6–7 “United Empire Loyalists,” 2:5 The “unmade,” 3:52 “The Unseen Helpers,” 1:5, 1:127 Urban centers: and Old World ethnic traditions, 1:3–4 Ute: and horses, 3:165; tales, 3:164, 3:173 Uuyot (Wuyoot), 3:289 Validating devices, 2:125, 4:47, 4:280 “The Vanishing Hitch-hiker and the Cabbie,” 1:4, 1:126 Variants, 4:280 Vasques, Manuel Jesus, 3:4, 3:79 Velbrun, Bertrand, 2:287 “Vengeance on a Witch Rider,” 1:346 “Victorio’s Raid,” 3:4, 3:83 Vidrine, Jack, 2:113 “The Visit to the Sky,” 4:138 Vodun religion (Haiti), 2:287 “Voice Above,” 1:308 “Voices in the Frying Pan,” 2:130

419

Cumulative Index

1: The Northeast, The Midwest, The Mid-Atlantic 2: The South, The Caribbean 3: The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West 4: The Northwest, Cyberspace von Münchhausen, Baron Karl Friedrich Hieronymus, 3:99 Vrbooska, Anca, 1:40, 1:85, 1:132 “Wabasaiy,” 1:147, 1:162, 1:193 Waí-hu-si-wa, 3:52 “Wailing Wall,” 4:250 “Wait Until I Get Dry,” 1:303 Wakea, 3:293 “Wal-Mart Boycott,” 4:185 “Walking Skeleton,” 3:369; variant B, 3:372; variant C, 3:377 “Wanted for Attempted Murder,” 4:234 Ward, Monroe, 2:87, 2:140 Ward, Miles, 2:87, 2:140 “The Watcher Tricked,” 1:306 Waterspirits, 1:227 Wendat (Wyandot), 1:4, 1:9 West (California and Nevada), 3:267–69; gold rush, 3:268; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 3:305, 326–46; origins, tales of, 3:271, 277–81, 287–92; post–Civil war pressures, 3:268; pre-European contact cultures, 3:268; sacred tales of the supernatural, 3:361, 364–86; Spanish influence, 3:268; terrain, 3:267 West (Hawaii), 3:267, 269; extent, 3:269; heroes/heroines/tricksters/fools, 3:297, 312–26; nature gods (“akua”), 3:292; origins, tales of, 3:274, 3:281, 3:284, 3:292; sacred tales of the supernatural, 3:353; terrain, 3:269; ti plant, 3:284

420

“When Brer Deer and Brer Terrapin Runned a Race,” 2:92 “When Brer Frog Give a Big Dining,” 2:106 “When Brer ’Possum Attend Miss Fox’s House-Party,” 2:64, 2:91 “When Brer Rabbit Help Brer Terrapin,” 2:96 “When Brer Rabbit Saw Brer Dog’s Mouth So Brer Dog Can Whistle,” 2:40 “When Brer Rabbit Was Presidin’ Elder,” 2:77 “When Brer Wolf Have His Corn Shucking,” 2:69 “When Mr. Pine Tree and Mr. Oak Tree Fall Out,” 2:25 “When Mr. Terrapin Went Riding on the Clouds,” 2:218 “When Raven Wanted to Marry Snowbird and Fly with the Geese,” 4:98 “When the World Was Formed,” 3:17 “Where Did Adam Hide,” 2:166; original version, 2:310 “Where’s Mr. McGinnis?” 1:313 White, Joseph (Mandarong), 1:36, 1:116 “White Substance Delays Aggie Football Practice,” 4:230 “Whiteberry Whittington,” 1:52, 2:152 “Why Frog Lives in the Water,” 1:270 “Why Mr. Owl Can’t Sing,” 2:38 “Why Rabbit Has a Short Tail,” 2:239 “Why the Deer has a Short Tail,” 1:149, 1:170 “Why the People Tote Brer Rabbit Foot in their Pocket,” 2:26, 2:40 “Why the Spider Never Got in the Ark,” 2:159 “Why We Love Children,” 4:172

Wichita, 3:131–32, 3:135; divided village motif, 3:213; tales, 3:136–59, 3:212 “Wild Bill,” 1:148, 1:243 Wild Bunch, 3:221 Wiley, Betty, 1:353 Wilkenson, Susie, 2:132 Will, George F., 3:193 Willoughby, Loneva, 1:281 Wiltse, A. S., 2:197 “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby,” 2:4, 2:49, 2:53, 2:64, 2:233, 2:258 Winnebago: cosmology, 1:227; tales, 1:188, 1:207, 1:227; War (1827), 1:148 “Wisa’kä,” 1:149, 1:159 “The Witch and the Boiler,” 2:174, 2:178, 2:180 “Witch Flights,” 3:5, 3:121, 3:124 Witchcraft: punishment for, 3:125; vs. hoodoo, 1:348 Witches, 1:65; ability to slip out of their skin (cross-cultural belief), 1:334, 4:136; “awl-elbow,” 1:179; borrowing object of victim motif, 1:112; cross-cultural “hag experience,” 1:112; little boy witch, 2:204; “riding” of victims motifs, 1:110, 2:178; salt as antidote to evil (cross-cultural belief), 1:334; shape-shifting, 1:122, 2:27; transformation motifs, 1:110, 2:171; with two hearts (Hopi), 3:58. See also Brujeria; Pavawut “Witches Discovered,” 3:5, 3:122, 3:124 “Witch’s Apprentice,” 1:347, 1:350 Wolf Clan, 1:128 “Wolf of the Greenwood,” 1:6, 1:52, 2:152 “The Wolf Overeats in the Cellar,” 2:109 Wollman, Mr., 1:131 “Woman Cat,” 1:338, 3:123; variant A, 1:339; variant B, 1:340

Cumulative Index

“The Woman Who Married a Dog,” 4:36 “The Woman Who Was Fond of Intestines,” 4:151 “The Woman with a Bear Lover,” 3:254, 3:257 “The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story,” 2:233 Wood, Joseph, 3:248 Woodchuck, Grandmother of Gluska’be, 1:62 Woods, Merle, 2:257, 2:285 “World Trade Center Survivor’s Son Joins the Terrorists,” 4:207

Wounded Knee Massacre, 3:362 Wovoka (Paiute prophet), 3:269, 3:361 Wrenshall, Letitia Humphreys, 1:330 Wycloff, Minnie, 1:253

Buffalo,” 3:132, 3:185 Young, W., 1:309 “Your Horse Stays Outside,” 2:226 Yupik (Eskimo) culture, 4:3, 4:5 Yurok, 3:344; tales, 3:344

“The Xudele,” 4:29, 4:33

Zange, 2:288 Ziegler, Wesley, 3:245 “Ziegler’s Conversion,” 3:245 Zuni Pueblo, 3:24, 36, 52; formulaic introduction to tales, 3:25; tales, 3:5, 3:52, 3:77

Yoruba traditions, 2:20 “You Hear a Lot of Them Things,” 1:6, 1:92 “Young Men Who Killed the Horned Serpent and Released the

421

About the Editor

T

homas A. Green is Associate Professor of Anthropology at Texas A&M University. His many books include Martial Arts in the Modern World (Praeger, 2003), Martial Arts of the World: An Encyclopedia (2001), Folklore: An Encyclopedia of Beliefs, Customs, Tales, Music, and Art (1997), and The Language of Riddles: New Perspectives (1984).


The Greenwood Library of American Folktales VOLUME II

The South, The Caribbean





Contents

VOLUME II Introduction The South Origins Kanati and Selu: The Origin of Corn and Game The Origin of Corn The Man Who Invented Fire Origin of the Alabama Indians When Mr. Pine Tree and Mr. Oak Tree Fall Out Why the People Tote Brer Rabbit Foot in their Pocket Origin of the Bear: The Bear Songs How Come Brer Bear Sleep in the Winter How Come Mr. Buzzard to Have a Bald Head The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance How Come Pigs Can See the Wind Why Mr. Owl Can’t Sing When Brer Rabbit Saw Brer Dog’s Mouth So Brer Dog Can Whistle Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole Allen Chesser’s Initiation: The Bear Fight

1 9 11 11 18 20 21 25 26 28 31 33 35 36 38 40 42 46

Contents

Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby The Tarbaby The Rabbit and the Frenchman Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse Rabbit Rides Wolf On Horseback Incriminating the Other Fellow Playing Godfather How Brer Rabbit Practice Medicine When Brer Wolf Have His Corn Shucking The Sack of Peas and the Mule The Irishman and the Pumpkin The Sea Tick and the Irishman Shooting Grasshoppers The Fox and the Wolf When Brer Rabbit Was Presidin’ Elder Jack the Giant Killer How Brer Fox Dream He Eat Brer ’Possum Brer Rabbit’s Cool Air Swing The Lion and the Unicorn When Brer ’Possum Attend Miss Fox’s House-Party The Tasks of Rabbit When Brer Rabbit Help Brer Terrapin Rabbit Kills Big Man-eater Rabbit and Big Man-eater How the Deer Obtained His Horns Rabbit Fools Alligator Rabbit Gets a Turkey for Wildcat When Brer Frog Give a Big Dining Bouqui and Lapin: The Smokehouse Jean Sot Feeds Cows Needles Jean Sot Kills the Duck Jean Sot and the Cowhide

vi

49 49 52 54 56 58 61 62 64 66 69 71 73 74 75 76 77 79 83 85 87 91 93 96 98 100 101 103 105 106 108 110 111 113

Contents

Lazy Jack and His Calf Skin Ti Jean Cannot Tell a Lie Boudreaux and the Cottonmouth Cajun Cockfight ’Coon in the Box The Buck Fight A Sight of Alligators Lies Too Far Apart The Arkansas Shakes Voices in the Frying Pan The Bent Gun The Marvelous Potato The King and Old George Buchanan Jack and the Beanstalk Old Bluebeard Hardy Hardback How Brer Rabbit Bring Dust Out of the Rock Rabbit Steals Fire Whiteberry Whittington Old Foster The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales Why the Spider Never Got in the Ark The Spanish Moss Hellhound Comes for a Drunkard Sol Lockheart’s Call Where Did Adam Hide? Possessed of Two Spirits Miller’s Witch Wife Phoebe Ward, Witch A Bewitched Churning The Raven Mocker The Witch and the Boiler A Bewitched Gun The Bell Witch

115 118 119 120 121 123 124 126 127 130 130 131 132 134 137 145 149 151 152 155 159 159 160 162 163 166 167 171 172 174 175 178 179 181

vii

Contents

Avenging Ghosts The Rich Ghost Return of the Ghost Wife Riders Pursued by Ghosts The Mysterious Deer The Bride of the Evil One The Chosen Suitor: The Forbidden Room The Haunted House Race with a Ghost The Ghost of Alex The Spirit Defenders of Nïkwäsï’ The Powers That Be: Secular Tales Jim Johns and the Tiger When Mr. Terrapin Went Riding on the Clouds Are You Man? The Grease Girl All Dressed Up and No Place to Go The Talking Eggs Your Horse Stays Outside

192 194 195 196 197 198 204 206 207 209 213 217 217 218 220 222 223 224 226

The Caribbean Origins Adam and Eve Brother Rabbit an’ Brother Tar-Baby Nancy and the Honey Tree Brother Elephant and Brother Whale Why Rabbit Has a Short Tail Playing Mourner Cock’s Breakfast The Origin of Woman Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools The Brave Tailor Nancy Fools His Wife Annancy and the Yam Hills

229 231 231 232 235 237 239 240 242 243 245 245 248 250

viii

Contents

Seeking Trouble Brother Rabbit, Brother Booky, and Brother Cow The Sperrit House Bale of Cotton or Bag of Salt Mr. Hard Time John the Fool and John the Smart Anansi and the Lady in the Well Magic Flight The Three Sons

251 255 257 259 260 262 270 271 273

The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales The Chosen Suitor The Big Worm The Night Beauty Under the Green Old Oak Tree The Old Woman and Her Child Rescued from the Loups Garous by Loa Saint James A Zange Disguises as a Snake A Loup Garou Disguises as a Beggar

277 277 279 281 283 285 286 287 289

The Powers That Be: Secular Tales The Solomon Cycle De Story of de Man and Six Poached Eggs Education for a Carpenter’s Son Dayday Agastin The Girl and the Fish

291 291 293 294 295 298


301

The South Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole Allen Chesser’s Initiation: The Bear Fight Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse Incriminating the Other Fellow Where Did Adam Hide? The Chosen Suitor: The Forbidden Room La Graisse [The Grease Girl]

301 301 305 307 309 310 311 312

ix

Contents

The Caribbean B’ Helephant and B’V’wale (Brother Elephant and Brother Whale) The Origin of Woman Seeking Trouble De Big Worrum (The Big Worm) The Girl and the Fish Glossary Bibliography to Volume II General Bibliography Cumulative Index

x

313 313 314 315 318 319 321 323 327 343

Introduction

T

he South, for the purposes of the present collection, includes the states of Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and West Virginia. Volume II of the Greenwood Library of American Folktales also includes the Caribbean region for the purpose of noting continuities among European, Native American, and African-descended traditions of the western hemisphere. The Caribbean coverage is focused on the Anglophonic West Indies (especially Antigua, the Bahamas, Barbados, and Jamaica) and Haiti due to the crucial and continuing ties between these islands and the coastal areas of the southern United States. Geographic, occupational, and cultural diversity mark this area. The South and the Caribbean include a range of terrains from coastal areas to mountain highlands. As a result, the occupations and concerns derived from the area are diverse. Subsistence is provided by farming (from the plantation to the garden plot), maritime occupations, hunting, and various combinations of the three. Cultural influences from Native American, African, and European traditions (particularly British, French, and Spanish) coexist. Distinctions between important traditions in the region have been made by both outside observers and by the communities themselves. Native Americans provided the baseline cultures in the area under consideration. However, their influence on the narratives of the indigenous populations of the Caribbean and the South differed drastically. At the time of European contact, the Caribbean was inhabited by cultures that had migrated from the South American mainland. The primary groups at the time of European contact were identified as the Taino and the Carib, from whom the name for the area was

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales | Volume II

derived. A combination of military action beginning in the late fifteenth century and diseases brought first from Europe and later from Africa via the slave trade decimated the native population of the islands. As a result, the impact of Native Caribbean oral traditions on the folktale corpus was minimal. In contrast, the Native North American cultures made a lasting imprint on the folk narratives of the southern United States. Among the major native cultures in the area under consideration during the early period of contact was the Natchez—a culture of such complexity that it was unrivaled north of Mexico. By the middle of the eighteenth century, however, the Natchez, who had settled along the eastern bank of the Mississippi River, had been destroyed as a distinct cultural entity. However, individuals survived, passing along oral traditions such as those contained in this volume. Influences from neighboring non-Native cultures are readily apparent in tales such as “The Tarbaby” (p. 52). The Cherokee, along with the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, and Seminoles, were one of the “Five Civilized Tribes.” Of these groups, the influence of the Choctaw and the Chickasaw declined during the historical period following European contact. The Creek Confederation was an alliance of various groups including the Alabama, Coushatta, and Hitchitee, whose traditions are represented in the present collection of tales. The Seminole emerged in historical times as a splinter group of the Creek Confederation that went on to absorb smaller indigenous groups in its territory and a considerable number of fugitive slaves of African descent. The impact of the African-descended population is apparent in many of the tales from Native Americans in this region. Cherokee influence merits particular notice. At various points in their history they resided in Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, and West Virginia. The Cherokee were the most numerous culture in the Southeastern United States and ultimately the most influential throughout the period of European contact. In 1827, they approved a constitution that created a government with three distinct branches (executive, legislative, and judicial) modeled on the governmental structure of the United States and adopted a syllabary created by the Sequoia for writing their language. By the late 1820s, the Cherokee would seem to serve as a model for adaptation and accommodation. In 1830, however, Congress passed the Indian Removal Act, which called for the relocation of the Cherokee and other Native Americans of the Southeast to Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). In 1838, the Cherokees, with the exception of a small band who had taken refuge in the North Carolina mountains, were forcibly removed from Georgia and driven to Oklahoma. The North Carolina Cherokees, who came to be known as the Eastern Band of the Cherokee, were eventually allowed to remain. They maintained many of their

2

Introduction

oral traditions, often preserving them in manuscript form by means of the Sequoia syllabary. The traditional narratives of the “Five Civilized Tribes” contained in this volume range from indigenous myths to tales that represent obvious adaptations of the narratives of those African American and European communities with whom Native Americans shared territory. European footholds were established early on by explorers. Spanish influence entered into the Caribbean in the late fifteenth century and into the southern United States in the early sixteenth century. The British established colonies in the Carolinas and the Caribbean in the late-sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. The French became a factor in the Caribbean in the middle of the seventeenth century and in the southern United States by the end of the century. While all these European contacts made an impact on the South, in the coastal states, French heritage, and to a lesser degree Spanish heritage, is strikingly represented in Creole traditions. Some have contended that the term used to designate New World traditions entails the meanings of the Spanish term criollo (a resident of the New World of European ancestry). The academic usage of the term “creole,” however, refers to a language that began as a “pidgin,” a language that arises from contact between groups who share no common language. The pidgin is created from elements of the languages of the groups in contact as a linguistic compromise to serve temporary communication needs. If a pidgin goes on to become a group’s native language and, as a result, develops the capacity to serve the needs of that group of native speakers, it comes to be called a creole. Used in reference to culture, a creole or creolization describes the convergence—in any sphere—of distinctive cultural traits that results in a new form. The term has been commonly used as a label for the cultural mix of traits found in Louisiana and the West Indies. In Louisiana, the definition of creole has fluctuated with social changes. In its earliest usage, it included colonists of European descent born in the Americas, slaves of African descent, and free people of color. After Spain’s assumption of control over the Louisiana Territory in 1768 and the subsequent immigration of French aristocrats fleeing the revolution at home, Acadians from Canada, and elites from St. Domingue (modern Haiti), French ancestry became the major criterion for defining “creole” along with the association of high socioeconomic status. After the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 and throughout the “American period,” French ancestry, French creole dialect, and racial difference developed as the defining features of creole identity (Dubois and Melançon 2000). The tales in this volume that have been labeled as creole, either by tradition bearers or collectors, stress European as distinct from African roots. This is the case with both tales from the southern United States (see “La Graisse,” p.

3


312, and “The Talking Eggs,” p. 224) and the Caribbean (see “The Night Beauty,” p. 281, and “Dayday Agastin,” p. 295). As noted, Cajuns are the descendents of Europeans of French ancestry who were exiled from Acadia (now Nova Scotia, Canada) by the British, who began a systematic program of deportation in 1755. Some Acadians deported from Canada found refuge in the French Caribbean; others found their way to territory inhabited primarily by Native Americans, which may account for the shared tales among the Cajun corpus and the repertoires of Native Americans in the southeastern United States. See, for example, “The Rabbit and the Frenchman” (p. 54), and compare the tale “On Horseback” (p. 61) to “Rabbit Rides Wolf” (p. 58). The largest, and historically the most identifiable, Cajun population settled in what was then the Louisiana Territory. Maintaining a separate identity, these southern Cajuns held on to French narratives featuring Jean Sot (Foolish John), featured in “Jean Sot Feeds Cows Needles” (p. 110) and “Jean Sot Kills the Duck” (p. 111). However, the preservation of identity does not entail insulation from neighbors occupying the same region or ossification of the tale repertoire. The tales of Lapin and Bouqui provide particularly useful examples of borrowing between the Cajun and the African American communities. Particular tales, such as “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” (p. 49), survived in both ethnic traditions. Moreover, the name Bouqui, the comic foil for the trickster Lapin (Rabbit) in the Cajun cycle of trickster tales, means “hyena,” a word borrowed from a West African language called Wolof. Bouqui, under a variety of spellings, is found not only in the United States but in the Caribbean as well (see “Brother Rabbit, Brother Booky, and Brother Cow,” p. 255). Moreover, ample evidence of sharing among Cajun, African American, and Native Americans is provided by a comparison of the Cajun tale “On Horseback” (p. 61) to “Rabbit Rides Wolf” (p. 58) and the African American “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse” (p. 56). The folktales in this collection demonstrate the early and profound influence of African cultures—especially in the coastal South and the Caribbean. The African influence appears in the vast corpus of the African American community as well as in the European and Native American repertoires. The enslavement and importation of Africans into the Caribbean (beginning in the late sixteenth century) and colonial America (beginning with the Jamestown, Virginia, colony in 1619) eventually provided a major source of African influence. This was especially true in the coastal states of the South with the development of a plantation economy following the explosive growth of the cotton-farming industry caused by the invention of the cotton gin in 1793. A

4

Introduction

similar expansion of the commerce in African slaves in the Caribbean had attended the switch from tobacco to production. Although the enactment of legislation in 1808 banned the importation of slaves into the United States, the American South did not become a sealed environment. Around this period, refugees from the Haitian Revolution—some of African ancestry—made their way to areas of the coastal United States. Even earlier, the historical record shows that in the wake of the colonial Revolution against the British “United Empire Loyalists” (Tories) emigrated to the British Caribbean from the Carolinas, taking with them their household slaves. This immigration, Elsie Clews Parsons argues (1917), provides at least part of the explanation for the continuities between the Southern and Caribbean repertoires a century after the official U.S. ban on African slave commerce. Other than their labor, these captive Africans also brought their indigenous traditions. In the past, the issue of the eventual impact of these African traditions on African America was hotly contested, with one side contending that they had been destroyed by the repressive institution of slavery and the other arguing for the survival of Africanisms in the Western Hemisphere. Late in the twentieth century a compromise was reached. The solution proposed that African American culture was neither a simple reaction to the slavery encountered in the Americas nor an equally unmediated relocation of Old World forms into new contexts. The notion of creolization was adopted to describe the convergence in any sphere of distinctive cultural traits that results in a new form. Thus, African and European expressive culture met and produced new products that bore the marks of both worlds—see, for example, “How Brer Rabbit Bring Dust Out of the Rock” (p. 149), a tale in which European and European American Jack tale motifs and plot structures converge with the African American trickster Brer Rabbit. The Appalachian region is also relevant to this volume. The southern Appalachian region encompasses West Virginia as well as large areas of North and South Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia and portions of Alabama, Georgia, and Mississippi. The European ethnic makeup of the region is historically composed of northern English and Scots-Irish who had been settled in Ulster during the early seventeenth century. A century later, many had immigrated to the American colonies and pushed westward into the Appalachian region between 1718 and 1775. Later, settlers from the southern Appalachian region moved on to the Ozarks, limited here to the northern Arkansas and southern Missouri area. These immigrants, though not the first of European descent to settle there, eventually became the largest faction. As a result, they became the dominant influence on traditional narratives in the

5


area. The relative isolation of the rural communities in the southern highlands encouraged the preservation of archaic British dialect features as well as various genres of folklore and folklife. For example, localized versions of English folktales such as “Jack and the Beanstalk” (see “Jack and the Beanstalk,” p. 134, and “Jack the Giant Killer,” p. 79) were collected in the early decades of the twentieth century along with personal experience narratives and legends of witchcraft and hauntings, as in “A Bewitched Gun” (p. 179) and “Miller’s Witch Wife” (p. 171). Despite the diversity of these regions, unifying factors may be seen within the tales of this volume. Shared cultural concerns derived from a common origin stimulated by continued contact between the coastal south and the Caribbean were at work to mobilize continuities within the New World African traditions. Social tensions between the empowered and the misused encouraged the sharing of trickster narratives across cultural boundaries. Living in close proximity in a common environment promotes similarities in lifestyles and material culture and commonalities in the expression of sentiments regarding the shared way of life. The following narratives are driven by the historical, social, and environmental features particular to the region. As in the other volumes in this series, although efforts have been made to preserve the flavor of the original transcriptions of these tales, when necessary, tales have been modified for readability by contemporary, nonspecialist readers. Unedited versions of many of the tales are included in the Appendix to this volume to illustrate the nature of their original renderings.

SUGGESTED READINGS Abrahams, Roger D., ed. African American Folktales: Stories from Black Traditions in the New World. New York: Pantheon, 1985. ———. The Man-of-Words in the West Indies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983. Ancelet, Barry Jean. Cajun and Creole Folktales: The French Oral Tradition of South Louisiana. Jackson: The University Press of Mississippi, 1994. Bascom, William. African Folktales in the New World. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1992. Beckwith, Martha Warren. Jamaica Anansi Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 17. New York: American Folklore Society, 1924. Botkin, Benjamin A. A Treasury of Southern Folklore: Stories, Ballads, Traditions and Folkways of the People of the South. New York: Crown, 1949.

6

Introduction

Campbell, Marie. Tales from the Cloud Walking Country. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1958. Claudel, Calvin Andre. Fools and Rascals: Folktales of Louisiana and Their Backgrounds. Baton Rouge, LA: Legacy, 1978. Courlander, Harold. Afro-American Folklore. New York: Crown, 1976. Crowley, Daniel. I Could Talk Old Story Good. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1966. Dance, Daryl. Folklore from Contemporary Jamaicans. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1985. Dorson, Richard. American Negro Folktales. Greenwich, CT: Fawcett, 1967. Harris, Joel Chandler. The Complete Tales of Uncle Remus. Compiled by Richard Chase. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1953. Hurston, Zora Neale. Mules and Men. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1936. Martin, Howard N. Myths and Folktales of the Alabama-Coashatta Indians. Austin, TX: Encino Press, 1987. Mooney, James. James Mooney’s History, Myths, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees. Asheville, NC: Historical Images, 1992. ———. Myths of the Cherokee. New York: Dover, 1995. Randolph, Vance. The Devil’s Pretty Daughter, and Other Ozark Folktales. New York: Columbia University Press, 1955. ———. We Always Lie to Strangers: Tall Tales from the Ozarks. New York: Columbia University Press, 1951. Roberts, Leonard W. South from Hell-fer-Sartin: Kentucky Mountain Folktales. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1988. Swanton, John R. Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929.

7

THE SOUTH

ORIGINS

KANATI AND SELU: THE ORIGIN OF CORN AND GAME Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokees.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 98–106. Date: 1887 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

The following myth required anyone who heard it to fast and take a ritual bath presided over by a holy man. Connected to this myth is a series of events occurring later in the first age of the Cherokee in which the people, starving from a lack of game, sent for the brothers who returned and gave them the rituals to use for calling game. This myth alludes to a range of esoteric knowledge shared by the traditional Cherokee. For example, the myth establishes the intimate relationship between Kanati (representative of hunters in general) and the wolf, thus establishing the animal’s protected status among any Cherokee desiring a successful hunt. Similar narratives focused on two brothers—one of whom is “tame” while the other is “wild” and lives on the margins of society and at the edge of the social order—are distributed widely in Native American tradition. “The Story of Lodge Boy, After-Birth Boy and Double-Face” among the Omaha is one such closely related example. For another example of the “twin motif,” see also “Origin of Acoma” (Vol. III, p. 7) and


“The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars” (Vol. III, p. 212) in the present collection.

W

hen I was a boy, this is what the old men told me they had heard when they were boys.

Long ages ago, soon after the world was made, a hunter and his wife lived at Looking-glass Mountain, with their only child, a little boy. The father’s name was Kanati, “The Lucky Hunter,” and his wife was called Selu, “Corn.” No matter when Kanati went into the woods, he never failed to bring back a load of game, which his wife cut up and prepared, washing the blood from the meat in the river near the house. The little boy used to play down by the river every day, and one morning the old people thought they heard laughing and talking in the bushes, as though there were two children there. When the boy came home at night, his parents asked who had been playing with him all day. “He comes out of the water,” said the boy, “and he calls himself my elder brother. He says his mother was cruel to him, and threw him into the river.” Then they knew that the strange boy had sprung from the blood of the game which Selu had washed off at the river’s edge. Every day, when the little boy went out to play, the other would join him; but, as he always went back into the water, the old people never had a chance to see him. At last, one evening, Kanati said to his son, “To-morrow, when the other boy comes to play with you, get him to wrestle with you, and when you have your arms around him hold on to him and call for us.” The boy promised to do as he was told; so the next day, as soon as his playmate appeared, he challenged him to a wrestling-match. The other agreed at once, but as soon as they had their arms around each other Kanati’s boy began to scream for his father. The old folks at once came running down, and when the wild boy saw them he struggled to free himself, and cried out, “Let me go! You threw me away!” But his brother held on until his parents reached the spot, when they seized the wild boy and took him home with them. They kept him in the house until they had tamed him, but he was always wild and artful in his disposition, and was the leader of his brother in every mischief. Before long the old people discovered that he was one of those persons endowed with magic powers, and they called him, “He who grew up Wild.” Whenever Kanati went into the mountains he always brought back a fat buck or doe, or maybe a couple of turkeys. One day the wild boy said to his

12

The South | Kanati and Selu: The Origin of Corn and Game

brother, “I wonder where our father gets all that game; let’s follow him next time, and find out.” A few days afterward, Kanati took a bow and some feathers in his hand, and started off. The boys waited a little while, and then started after him, keeping out of sight, until they saw their father go into a swamp where there were a great many of the reeds that hunters use to make arrow-shafts. Then the wild boy changed himself into a puff of bird’s down, which the wind took up and carried until it alighted upon Kanati’s shoulder just as he entered the swamp, but Kanati knew nothing about it. The hunter then cut reeds, fitted the feathers to them, and made some arrows, and the wild boy—in his other shape—thought, “I wonder what those things are for.” When Kanati had his arrows finished, he came out of the swamp and went on again. The wind blew the down from his shoulder; it fell in the woods, when the wild boy took his right shape again, and went back and told his brother what he had seen. Keeping out of sight of their father, they followed him up the mountain until he stopped at a certain place and lifted up a large rock. At once a buck came running out, which Kanati shot, and then, lifting it upon his back, he started home again. “Oho!” said the boys, “he keeps all the deer shut up in that hole, and whenever he wants venison he just lets one out, and kills it with those things he made in the swamp.” They hurried and reached home before their father, who had the heavy deer to carry, so that he did not know they had followed him. A few days after, the boys went back to the swamp, cut some reeds and made seven arrows, and then started up the mountain to where their father kept the game. When they got to the place they lifted up the rock, and a deer came running out. Just as they drew back to shoot it, another came out, and then another, and another, until the boys got confused and forgot what they were about. In those days all the deer had their tails hanging down, like other animals, but, as a buck was running past, the wild boy struck its tail with his arrow so that it stood straight out behind. This pleased the boys, and when the next one ran by, the other brother struck his tail so that it pointed upward. The boys thought this was good sport, and when the next one ran past, the wild boy struck his tail so that it stood straight up, and his brother struck the next one so hard with his arrow that the deer’s tail was curled over his back. The boys thought this was very pretty, and ever since the deer has carried his tail over his back. The deer continued to pass until the last one had come out of the hole and escaped into the forest. Then followed droves of raccoons, rabbits, and all the other four-footed animals. Last came great flocks of turkeys, pigeons, and partridges that darkened the air like a cloud, and made such a noise with their wings that Kanati, sitting at home, heard the sound like distant thunder on the

13


mountains, and said to himself, “My bad boys have got into trouble. I must go and see what they are doing.” So Kanati went up the mountain, and when he came to the place where he kept the game he found the two boys standing by the rock, and all the birds and animals were gone. He was furious, but, without saying a word, he went down into the cave and kicked the covers off four jars in one corner, when out swarmed bed-bugs, fleas, lice, and gnats, and got all over the boys. They screamed with pain and terror, and tried to beat off the insects; but the thousands of insects crawled over them, and bit and stung them, until both dropped down nearly dead from exhaustion. Kanati stood looking on until he thought they had been punished enough, when be brushed off the vermin, and proceeded to give the boys a lecture. “Now, you rascals,” said he, “you have always had plenty to eat, and never had to work for it. Whenever you were hungry, all I had to do was to come up here and get a deer or a turkey, and bring it home for your mother to cook. But now you have let out all the animals, and after this, when you want a deer to eat, you will have to hunt all over the woods for it, and then maybe not find one. Go home now to your mother, while I see if I can find something to eat for supper.” When the boys reached home again they were very tired and hungry and asked their mother for something to eat. “There is no meat,” said Selu, “but wait a little while, and I will get you something.” So she took a basket and started out to the provision-house.... This provision-house was built upon poles high up from the ground, to keep it out of the reach of animals, and had a ladder to climb up by, and one door, but no other opening. Every day, when Selu got ready to cook the dinner, she would go out to the provision-house with a basket, and bring it back full of corn and beans. The boys had never been inside the provision-house, and wondered where all the corn and beans could come from, as the house was not a very large one; so, as soon as Selu went out of the door, the wild boy said to his brother, “Let’s go and see what she does.” They ran around and climbed up at the back of the provision-house, and pulled out a piece of clay from between the logs, so that they could look in. There they saw Selu standing in the middle of the room, with the basket in front of her on the floor. Leaning over the basket, she rubbed her stomach—so—and the basket was half-full of corn. Then she rubbed under her arm-pits—so—and the basket was full to the top with beans. The brothers looked at each other, and said, “This will never do; our mother is a witch. If we eat any of that it will poison us. We must kill her.”

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When the boys came back into the house, Selu knew their thoughts before they spoke. “So you are going to kill me!” said Selu. “Yes,” said the boys; “you are a witch.” “Well,” said their mother, “when you have killed me, clear a large piece of ground in front of the house, and drag my body seven times around the circle. Then drag me seven times over the ground inside the circle, and stay up all night and watch, and in the morning you will have plenty of corn.” Then the boys killed her with their clubs, and cut off her head, and put it up on the roof of the house, and told it to look for her husband. Then they set to work to clear the ground in front of the house, but, instead of clearing the whole piece, they cleared only seven little spots. This is the reason why corn now grows only in a few places instead of over the whole world. Then they dragged the body of Selu around the circles, and wherever her blood fell on the ground the corn sprang up. But, instead of dragging her body seven times across the ground, they did this only twice, which is the reason why the Indians still work their crop but twice. The two brothers sat up and watched their corn all night, and in the morning it was fully grown and ripe. When Kanati came home at last, he looked around, but could not see Selu anywhere, so he asked the boys where their mother was. “She was a witch, and we killed her,” said the boys; “there is her head up there on top of the house.” When Kanati saw his wife’s head on the roof he was very angry, and said, “I won’t stay with you any longer. I am going to the...[Wolf] people.” So he started off, but, before he had gone far, the wild boy changed himself again to a tuft of down, which fell on Kanati’s shoulder. When Kanati reached the settlement of the Wolf people, they were holding a council in the town-house.... He went in and sat down, with the tuft of bird’s down on his shoulder. When the Wolf chief asked him his business, he said, “I have two bad boys at home, and I want you to go in seven days from now and play against them.” Kanati spoke as though he wanted them to play a game of ball, but the wolves knew that he meant for them to come and kill the two boys. The wolves promised to go. Then the bird’s down blew off from Kanati’s shoulder, and the smoke carried it up through the hole in the roof of the town-house. When it came down on the ground outside, the wild boy took his right shape again, and went home and told his brother all that he had heard in the town-house. When Kanati left the Wolf people, he did not return home, but went on farther. The boys then began to get ready for the wolves, and the wild boy—the magician—told his brother what to do. They ran around the house in a wide circle

15


until they had made a trail all around it, excepting on the side from which the wolves would come, where they left a small open space. Then they made four large bundles of arrows, and placed them at four different points on the outside of the circle, after which they hid themselves in the woods and waited for the wolves. On the appointed day a whole army of wolves came and surrounded the house, to kill the boys. The wolves did not notice the trail around the house, because they came in where the boys had left the opening, but the moment they were inside the circle the trail changed to a high fence, and shut them in. Then the boys on the outside took their arrows and began shooting them down, and, as the wolves could not jump over the fence, they were all killed excepting a few, which escaped through the opening into a great swamp close by. Then the boys ran around the swamp, and a circle of fire sprang up in their tracks, and set fire to the grass and bushes, and burned up nearly all the other wolves. Only two or three got away, and these were all the wolves which were left in the whole world. Soon afterward some strangers from a distance, who heard that the brothers had a wonderful grain from which they made bread, came to ask for some; for none but Selu and her family had ever known corn before. The boys gave them seven grains of corn, which they told them to plant the next night on their way home, sitting up all night to watch the corn, which would have seven ripe ears in the morning. These they were to plant the next night, and watch in the same way; and so on every night until they reached home, when they would have corn enough to supply the whole people. The strangers lived seven days’ journey away. They took the seven grains of corn, and started home again. That night they planted the seven grains, and watched all through the darkness until morning, when they saw seven tall stalks, each stalk bearing a ripened ear. They gathered the ears with gladness, and went on their way. The next night they planted all their corn, and guarded it with wakeful care until daybreak, when they found an abundant increase. But the way was long and the sun was hot, and the people grew tired. On the last night before reaching home they fell asleep, and in the morning the corn they had planted had not even sprouted. They brought with them to their settlement what corn they had left, and planted it, and with care and attention were able to raise a crop. But ever since the corn must be watched and tended through half the year, which before would grow and ripen in a night. As Kanati did not return, the boys at last concluded to go and see if they could find him. The wild boy got a wheel and rolled it toward the direction where it is always night. In a little while the wheel came rolling back, and the boys knew their father was not there. Then the wild boy rolled it to the south and to the north, and each time the wheel came back to him, and they knew

16


their father was not there. Then he rolled it toward the Sun Land, and it did not return. “Our father is there,” said the wild boy, “let us go and find him.” So the two brothers set off toward the east, and after traveling a long time they came upon Kanati, walking along, with a little dog by his side. “You bad boys,” said their father, “have you come here?” “Yes,” they answered; “we always accomplish what we start out to do—we are men!” “This dog overtook me four days ago,” then said Kanati; but the boys knew that the dog was the wheel which they had sent after him to find him. “Well,” said Kanati, “as you have found me, we may as well travel together, but I will take the lead.” Soon they came to a swamp, and Kanati told them there was a dangerous thing there, and they must keep away from it. Then he went on ahead, but as soon as he was out of sight the wild boy said to his brother, “Come and let us see what is in the swamp.” They went in together, and in the middle of the swamp they found a large panther, asleep. The wild boy got out an arrow, and shot the panther in the side of the head. The panther turned his head, and the other boy shot him on that side. He turned his head away again, and the two brothers shot together, but the panther was not hurt by the arrows, and paid no more attention to the boys. They came out of the swamp, and soon overtook Kanati, waiting for them. “Did you find it?” asked Kanati. “Yes,” said the boys, “we found it, but it never hurt us. We are men.” Kanati was surprised, but said nothing, and they went on again. After a while Kanati turned to them, and said, “Now you must be careful. We are coming to a tribe called the ‘Cookers’ [i.e., Cannibals], and if they get you they will put you in a pot and feast on you.” Then he went on ahead. Soon the boys came to a tree which had been struck by lightning, and the wild boy directed his brother to gather some of the splinters from the tree, and told him what to do with them. In a little while they came to the settlement of the cannibals, who, as soon as they saw the boys, came running out, crying, “Good! Here are two nice, fat strangers. Now we’ll have a grand feast!” They caught the boys and dragged them into the town-house, and sent word to all the people of the settlement to come to the feast. They made up a great fire, filled a large pot with water and set it to boiling, and then seized the wild boy and threw him into the pot, and put the lid on it. His brother was not frightened in the least, and made no attempt to escape, but quietly knelt down and began putting the splinters into the fire, as if to make it burn better. When the cannibals thought the meat was about ready, they lifted the lid from the pot, and

17


that instant a blinding light filled the town-house, and the lightning began to dart from one side to the other, beating down the cannibals until not one of them was left alive. Then the lightning went up through the smoke-hole, and the next moment there were the two boys standing outside the town-house as though nothing had happened. They went on, and soon met Kanati, who seemed much surprised to see them, and said, “What! Are you here again?” “Oh, yes, we never give up. We are great men!” “What did the cannibals do to you?” “We met them, and they brought us to their town-house, but they never hurt us.” Kanati said nothing more, and they went on. Kanati soon got out of sight of the boys, but they kept on until they came to the end of the world, where the sun comes out. The sky was just coming down when they got there, but they waited until it went up again, and then they went through and climbed up on the other side. There they found Kanati and Selu sitting together. The old folks received them kindly, and were glad to see them, and told them they might stay there a while, but then they must go to live where the sun goes down. The boys stayed with their parents seven days, and then went on toward the sunset land, where they are still living.

THE ORIGIN OF CORN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Page 230 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Natchez National Origin: Native American

The three primary food crops for Native American gardening cultures were corn, beans, and squash, and the importance of these plant foods is highlighted in the myths of these groups. The following myth performs this function and goes on to underscore the consequences of directing

18

The South | The Origin of Corn

disrespectful behavior to the supernatural powers that control food sources. The “fall from grace” due to curiosity provides interesting parallels to Judaeo-Christian beliefs and may have been a later modification of the myth as it existed prior to European contact.

C

orn-woman lived at a certain place in company with twin girls. When the corn was all gone she went into the corn house, taking two baskets, and came out with the baskets full. They lived on the hominy which she made from this. One time the girls looked into this corn house and saw nothing there. They said to each other, “Where does she get it? Next time she goes in there we will creep up and watch her.” When the corn was all gone she started to go in and they saw her. So they crept after her and when she entered and closed the door they peeped through a crack. They saw her set down the basket, stand astride of it and rub and shake herself, and there was a noise, as if something fell off. In this way she filled one basket with corn. Then she stood over the other, rubbed herself and shook, the noise was heard and that basket was full of beans. After that the girls ran away. “Let us not eat it,” they said. “She defecates and then feeds us with the excrement.” So when the hominy was cooked they did not eat it, and from that she knew they had seen her. “Since you think it is filthy, you will have to help yourselves from now on. Kill me and burn my body. When summer comes things will spring up on the place where it was burned and you must cultivate them, and when they are matured they will be your food.” They killed Corn-woman and burned her body and when summer came corn, beans, and pumpkins sprang up. They kept cultivating these and every day, when they stopped, stuck their hoes up in the ground and went away. But on their return more ground would be hoed and the hoes would be sticking up in different places. They said, “Let us creep up and find out who is hoeing for us,” and they did so. When they looked they saw that the hoes were doing it of themselves and they laughed. Immediately the hoes fell down and did not work for them any more. They did not know that it was just those two hoes which were helping them and they themselves spoiled it.

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THE MAN WHO INVENTED FIRE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 273. Date: 1925 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: African American

The following tale is a straightforward narrative of a culture hero acquiring fire, an event that led to the dominion of man over nature and the animal world. The fact that the culture hero, “the inventor of fire,” is a blacksmith is significant. In both Africa and the Americas the blacksmith has supernatural significance. The profession in West Africa is surrounded with a supernatural aura. Moreover, in West African Yoruba and Yoruba-influenced traditions in the New World (Santeria and candomble, for example), Ogun is a powerful supernatural figure who is associated, among other things, with the blacksmith and with the realm of technology in general.

O

nce upon a time men didn’t have fire. It was a long time before fire ever been invented.

Man lived in another part of the country an’ didn’t know anything about fire. He was a blacksmith and made swords. When it was cold he piled leaves around the feets of his wife and baby to keep them warm. Fire jumped from his anvil and lit the leaves. He knew then he had invented fire. He called all his friends and told them he had invented fire. Then one day Bear came and took the baby. Bear doesn’t like fire. Mother came back from the woods and she didn’t know what to do. So she got some fire, put it in her hands and hunted Bear. Bear got frightened and dropped the baby.

20

The South | Origin of the Alabama Indians

So he came across where Zebra lived telling about his invention of fire. He sold fire by coals. He killed deer and bees and hung these up in his cave. With the fire he learned to cook meat in his cave. So he invited his friends to a dinner. He showed how fire cooked meat. He told them all about how he had did. He told them about fishing and hunting and they came and stayed a long time with him and lived with him. Then they selected him as king and ruler.

ORIGIN OF THE ALABAMA INDIANS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 118–21 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: Native American

Initially the following narrative displays traits of myth in its motifs of migration across a great ocean and the invention of weapons and the means to make fire. For the most part, however, plausible events are set in the historical past, leading to the tale’s classification as a legend. Actual events and names are used in the narrative. The Alabama and the Cousatti, with whom they eventually became affiliated, were members of the Creek Confederacy in what eventually became Alabama. At this time in their history, they fought the Choctaw mentioned in the “Origin of the Alabama Indians.” The berdache mentioned in the narrative was a male transvestite who acted socially as a woman; the role was neither uncommon nor maligned in many Native American cultures. By the early nineteenth century they had moved to Texas and established several villages; the most prominent was Peach Tree Village, where they relied primarily on hunting and gathering and horticulture. The episode in which the Alabama befriended and fed white refugees

21


seems based on the “Runaway Scrape” and other events of the Texas Revolution of 1836.

F

ormerly the ocean was not as large as it is today, and at that time the Alabama Indians, who lived upon the other side, came westward across it in canoes. When they had gotten about halfway over they came upon an island where they rested and fished. Then they resumed their journey and presently reached this land. At first they lived upon acorns, and they also roasted and ate cane sprouts. Later they made bows and arrows with which to kill deer, and having nothing with which to cut up the meat they used sharp rocks. They also had to learn how to kindle a fire. To accomplish this they used as a drill the stem of a weed called “plant-with-which-to-make-fire” which is like sassafras and the wood of a tree called bass for a base stick. Traveling inland, they established their village near a river and lived there for a long time. Presently they came in contact with the Choctaw and warred against them, almost destroying one Choctaw town, so that the Choctaw became disheartened and wanted to make peace. For this purpose they selected a poor man, promising that, if he were successful, they would give him the two daughters of a certain prominent woman. They gave him a white deerskin shirt and white deerskin leggings and moccasins, put a string of white beads about his neck and a rattle in his hand. Thus provided, the man crossed to the first Alabama village shaking his rattle and singing as he went. When the Alabama heard him they came out, took hold of him, and accompanied him back. On coming near the town they raised him on their backs and entered the place in this manner, singing continually. They set him down and he talked to them for a long time, laying down one string of white beads as he did so. Then he set out for another village, accompanied as before. On the way one of them seized a gun and shot under him. Another ran toward him and discharged a gun near his ear. At the next village he made another long talk and laid out a second string of white beads. He did the same at the third village. Then he returned to his people and they gave him the girls as they had promised, but soon afterwards he lay down and died. One summer a man said he wanted to go west and several wished to accompany him, but a berdache (“half-man”) tried to stop them. “Why are you going?” he said. “I am going in order to kill and eat turkey, deer, and other game animals; after that I will return.” “There are plenty of turkey and deer here,” said

22

The South | Origin of the Alabama Indians

the berdache, but the other persisted in his plan and after they had disputed for some time the berdache said, “You are a man but you want to run away. I will not run. I will not run, although my grandfather used to say that the English, Ålåta, and French are all hard fighters. When they come, I will take a knife, lie down under the bed, and keep striking at them until they kill me.” Nevertheless the man and his friends started off. They came to a river, made canoes, and proceeded along it a great distance until they finally reached a Choctaw settlement. They stopped for a while, thinking that these people were friends, but presently they observed that they were making arrows, so they became frightened and reentered their canoes. Following the river, they came upon many bears swimming across and some wanted to kill them, but others said, “Don’t shoot,” and they kept on. Presently they heard the sound of firearms behind and said to one another, “People are following us.” Not long afterwards they came upon a creek emptying into the river, its mouth almost obscured by canes, and they shoved their canoes into it and waited. After a while they heard the Choctaw canoes pass on up, so they remained where they were all that night. When it was nearly day they heard the sound of returning paddles and after they had died away they continued their journey. After they had gone on for some time the Alabama came to the house of a white man. He exchanged corn for venison and told them that the route by the river which they had intended to take was very long, so he tied oxen to their canoes and dragged them across a narrow place. Then they paddled along for some time and reached a trading house belonging to a white blacksmith. They procured from him old knives and axes in exchange for venison. Some Choctaw lived there who said to them, “There is no war here. There is peace. We are friends of the Alabama.” Afterwards, however, some of both tribes got drunk on whisky obtained at the store and wanted to fight. But the Alabama who had remained sober took their friends down to the canoes, put them in, and started along. As they pushed off the Choctaw stood near the shore and shot at them until they got out into the middle of the river. Later they went back to the store and found that the Choctaw were all gone, so they had the blacksmith make knives for them and sharpen their old axes. The white people came from the other side of the ocean long after the Alabama had crossed and tried to buy land from them. They would get the Indians drunk, and when they had become sober they would find bags of money hung to their necks in payment for land. It was after they had sold their lands in this way that they came westward.

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After leaving the blacksmith the Alabama came to Bayou Boeuf. Later they moved to Opelousas, La., and still later to Tyler County, Tex. Afterwards they settled Peach-tree village. There were many Alabama at that time and they separated into a number of villages. One was north of North Woodville and was called “Cane Island” and afterwards simply island, because some canes were found near the creek. They were living in these towns when the Mexican War broke out. When the Mexicans were here the white men came and built a town, putting up stores. After a while they heard that the Mexicans and whites were coming to fight with each other, and the people all ran off. They left their stores and went away. While they were moving on without stopping, it rained and the white girls walked along with their dresses half soaked. Some were weeping. Continuing on in this way they passed through Peach-tree village. Some of them were perishing with hunger and asked the Indians for food. Then they gave them milk, but instead of drinking it they gave it to the children. Just after the whites had left, the Mexicans came to this town, and their soldiers opened the stores which they had abandoned and used the goods. By and by they wanted to cross a big river there and threw bales of cotton into the water and crossed upon them. When they got over they found that the Indians had a camp on this side. They did not like them and wanted to kill them. But instead of killing them they drove them back and made them stay on the other side of the river. The Indians walked while two Mexicans rode on each horse. After that the white people came to fight. Some of them went round the town and broke down a bridge over a bad creek, so that when the Mexicans arrived they could not cross and all were killed. Their general Santa Anna, escaped alone on his horse. He fell down in a swampy place but got up and ran on and lay down in a thicket. While he lay there two deer whistled, and the whites came up and captured him. Then they demanded his land of him, and he left the people, got into a boat, and went away. Another party of whites reached that town and the Mexicans all ran off. Some Mexicans who were drunk remained walking about holding each other up, and the whites threw them down and stabbed them. When the Mexicans ran off they had just been cooking and left earthen pots full of peas mixed with red peppers on the fire. When the white men saw the Indians there they recognized them and had them recross the river. “Hang up something white and stay by it,” they said, “lest those coming after us make trouble.” So they hung up a white cloth and remained by it.

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The South | When Mr. Pine Tree and Mr. Oak Tree Fall Out

WHEN MR. PINE TREE AND MR. OAK TREE FALL OUT Tradition Bearer: Source: Backus, Emma M. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 29–30. Date: 1900 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

Beyond illustrating how jealousy can lead to a permanent rift between friends, the following tale presents an example of minding someone else’s business. Gossip, backbiting, and rumor are particularly destructive in small traditional communities such as the ones in which this tale arose and was perpetuated. “When Mr. Pine Tree and Mr. Oak Tree Fall Out,” like most origin tales, goes beyond ecological explanations to present a social message.

M

r. Pine Tree and Mr. Oak Tree used to be great friends and live in peace side by side, until Mr. Oak Tree he get jealous of Mr. Pine Tree ’cause Mr. Pine Tree he keep his fine green clothes on all winter; but jest as sure as cold weather come Mr. Oak Tree’s clothes they fade out a most ugly sort of color and fall off, and that make Mr. Oak Tree jealous to see hisself and his family with just few faded old clothes on their backs, while his neighbor, Mr. Pine Tree and his family, stand up proudful with all their fine green clothes on. Mr. Oak Tree he grow more jealous year by year, but he keep it all to hisself, ’cause Mr. Oak Tree he don’t know just what he going do about it. One year the people was looking for a place to have the camp-meeting. Now they always have the camp-meeting on big grove hill, where Mr. Oak Tree and Mr. Pine Tree grow side by side, and Mr. Oak Tree and Mr. Pine Tree, both powerful prideful, ’cause they have the camp-meeting there.

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But one time the people come, and instead of placing round the seats and breshin’ up the grounds, they go ’bout tearing everything up and toting them over in the big pine grove, where Mr. Pine Tree live all by hisself. Mr. Oak Tree he hear the people talking, and they say it am much nicer in Mr. Pine Tree’s house, ’cause he have a nice carpet on the ground, while Mr. Oak Tree’s house all covered with dirty old leaves. Well, it nigh ’bout break Mr. Oak Tree’s heart, that it do, ’deed and double ’deed it do; and Mr. Wind, he done see how Mr. Oak Tree drooping and mourning, and Mr. Wind he ask Mr. Oak Tree what his trouble. Mr. Oak Tree he tell Mr. Wind all ’bout it, and Mr. Wind he say to Mr. Oak Tree, “Cheer up, cheer up!” and Mr. Wind he tell Mr. Oak Tree how he going help him get the best of Mr. Pine Tree. So all winter Mr. Wind, every day, and all enduring the night, he take the dirty old leaves from Mr. Oak Tree’s floor and carry them all over and spread them all over Mr. Pine Tree’s fine carpet. Mr. Pine Tree he don’t like it, but he can’t help hisself ’cause what Mr. Wind want to do he going to do it, Mr. Wind is. But when camp-meeting time come, Mr. Oak Tree he stand there, and he see the people come and rake off all his leaves, what Mr. Wind done carry on Mr. Pine Tree’s carpet. Then Mr. Oak Tree he say he can’t bear it no more, and Mr. Oak Tree he tell Mr. Pine Tree how they can’t live together no more; and Mr. Oak Tree he say, he will go to the plains and Mr. Pine Tree can go to the mountain; or he say, will Mr. Pine Tree take the plains and let Mr. Oak Tree go to the mountains? Mr. Pine Tree he ’low how he will take the plains and let Mr. Oak Tree go to the mountains; and Mr. Pine Tree he go to the plains, and Mr. Oak Tree he take the up country, and they don’ live together no more. But they still on the watch-out; for when Mr. Oak Tree leave a field, directly here come Mr. Pine Tree, and when Mr. Pine Tree leave a field, sure enough up come Mr. Oak Tree; but they don’t live together friendly like no more.

WHY THE PEOPLE TOTE BRER RABBIT FOOT IN THEIR POCKET Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Tales of the Rabbit from Georgia Negroes.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 109–11.

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The South | Why the People Tote Brer Rabbit Foot in their Pocket

Date: 1900 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

Rabbit, as a trickster figure in African American folklore, at times acts in the community’s interest. In this tale, Brer Rabbit uses more than his wits to overcome Ole Mammy Witch Wise; he turns to his knowledge of the occult practices of the shape-shifting witches who slip off their skins in order to cause nocturnal mischief, thus revealing himself to be “wise” as well. In other tales, Brer Rabbit displays his skill in conjuration and hoodoo. This knowledge allows him to save the community from Mammy Wise Witch and marks his foot as a powerful protective amulet.

W

hy do people tote Brer Rabbit’s foot in their pocket? Well, sir, that’s cause Ole Brer Rabbit done killed the last witch what ever live.

They tells how they done hang some of ’em, and burn some, till they get mighty scarce, but there was one ole witch what was risin’ on five hundred years old, and ’cause she keep clear of all the folks what try to catch her, they done name her Ole Mammy Witch Wise. Well, she do carry on to beat all them times, she ’witch all the folks, and she ’witch all the animals, and when they go to get their meal out some of the gardens, she just ’witch them animals, and they can’t get in to save ’em, and they all nigh ’bout starved out, that they was, and they all hold a big consultation and talk over what they gwine do. They was a mighty ornery lookin’ set, just nigh ’bout skin an’ bone, but when Ole Brer Rabbit come in, they observe how he mighty plump and in fine order, and they ask him, however he so mighty prosp’rous and they all in such powerful trouble. And then he allow, Brer Rabbit did, dat Ole Mammy Witch Wise can’t ’witch him, and he go in the gardens more same as ever. Why, Ole Mammy Wise don’t ’low the animals get in the garden, she just want the pick of ’em herself, cause she don’t have no garden that year; but when she set her mind on some Major Brayton’s peas, she just put the pot on the fire, an’ when the water bile smart, she just talk in the pot and say, “Bile peas, bile peas,” and there they come, sure ’nough, for dinner; but you see if the animals

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done been troubling them peas, and there ain’t no peas on the vine, then she call ’em in the pot. So she just keep the creeters out till they nigh ’bout broke down, and they ask Brer Rabbit, can’t he help ’em? Brer Rabbit scratch he head, but he don’t say nothin’, ’cause I tell you, when Ole Brer Rabbit tell what he gwine do, then you just well know that just what he ain’ gwine do, ’cause he’s a man what don’t tell what he mind set on. So he don’t make no promise, but he study constant how he gwine kill Ole Mammy Witch Wise. He know all ’bout how the old woman slip her skin every night, and all the folks done try all the plans to keep her out till the rooster crow in the morning, ’cause every witch, what’s out the skin when the roosters crow, can’t never get in the skin no mo’; but they never get the best of the Ole MammyWitch Wise, and she rising five hundred years old. Brer Rabbit he go off hisself, and set in the sun on the sand bed and rum’nate. And you may be sure, when you see the old man set all to hisself on the sand bed, he mind just working. Well, sir, that night, he go in the garden and take a good turn of peppers, and tote them up to Ole Mammy Witch Wise house, and just he ’spect, there he find her skin in the porch, just where she slip it off to go on her tricks, and what you ’spect he do? Well, sir, he just mash them peppers to a mush, and rub ’em all inside the Ole MammyWitch Wise skin, and then he set hisself under the porch for to watch. Just ’fore crowing time, sure ’nough, there come the ole woman, sailing along in a hurry, ’cause she know she ain’t got long, but when she go for to put on her skin, it certainly do bite her, and she say, “Skinnie, skinnie, don’t you know me, skinnie?” But it bite more same than before, and while she fooling with it, sure ’nough the rooster done crow, and the ole woman just fall over in a fit. And in the morning Brer Rabbit notify the animals, and they gravel a place and burn her. And the people, they find out how Brer Rabbit get the best of the Mammy Witch Wise, and then they tell the white folks, and that why nigh ’bout all the rich white folks totes a rabbit foot in their pocket, ’cause it keeps off all the bad luck, and it do that, sure’s yo’ born.

ORIGIN OF THE BEAR: THE BEAR SONGS Tradition Bearer: A`yûn’inï (“Swimmer”) Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Pages 325–26 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900.

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The South | Origin of the Bear: The Bear Songs

Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

In the Cherokee worldview, Bear maintained a kinship to humans because he was descended from one of their clans during the mythic period. The widely held Native American belief that animals grant success to hunters who follow the proper rituals of respect is apparent in this myth of the origin of bears and the songs used to call them forth to be hunted. Like Cherokee sung incantations in general, the Bear Songs, when repeated precisely, have an ability to focus supernatural power and bring about a desired end. This myth is especially valuable because it was transcribed by Cherokee ritual expert Swimmer himself using the syllabary invented by Sequoia discussed in the “Introduction” (p. 1). Thus, there is far less of an opportunity for “interference” (extrapolation and reinterpretation) from the collector than was usually the case in the context of fieldwork.

L

ong ago there was a Cherokee clan called the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, and in one family of this clan was a boy who used to leave home and be gone all day in the mountains. After a while he went oftener and stayed longer, until at last he would not eat in the house at all, but started off at daybreak and did not come back until night. His parents scolded, but that did no good, and the boy, still went every day until they noticed that long brown hair was beginning to grow out all over his body. Then they wondered and asked him why it was that he wanted to be so much in the woods that he would not even eat at home. Said the boy, “I find plenty to eat there, and it is better than the corn and beans we have in the settlements, and pretty soon I am going into the woods to stay all the time.” His parents were worried and begged him not to leave them, but he said, “It is better there than here, and you see I am beginning to be different already, so that I can not live here any longer. If you will come with me, there is plenty for all of us and you will never have to work for it; but if you want to come you must first fast seven days.”

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The father and mother talked it over and then told the headmen of the clan. They held a council about the matter and after everything had been said they decided: “Here we must work hard and have not always enough. There he says there is always plenty without work. We will go with him.” So they fasted seven days, and on the seventh morning all the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï left the settlement and started for the mountains as the boy led the way. When the people of the other towns heard of it they were very sorry and sent their headmen to persuade the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï to stay at home and not go into the woods to live. The messengers found them already on the way, and were surprised to notice that their bodies were beginning to be covered with hair like that of animals, because for seven days they had not taken human food and their nature was changing. The Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï would not come back, but said, “We are going where there is always plenty to eat. Hereafter we shall be called bears, and when you yourselves are hungry come into the woods and call us and we shall come to give you our own flesh. You need not be afraid to kill us, for we shall live always.” Then they taught the messengers the songs with which to call them, and the bear hunters have these songs still. When they had finished the songs the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï started on again and the messengers turned back to the settlements, but after going a little way they looked back and saw a drove of bears going into the woods.

First Bear Song

H

e-e! Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, akwandu’li e’lanti’ ginûn’ti, Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, akwandu’li e’lanti’ ginûn’ti—Yû! He-e! The Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, I want to lay them low on the ground, The Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, the Ani’-Tsâ’gûhï, I want to lay them low on the ground—Yû!

The bear hunter starts out each morning fasting and does not eat until near evening. He sings this song as he leaves camp, and again the next morning, but never twice the same day.

Second Bear Song

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his song also is sung by the bear hunter, in order to attract the bears, while on his way from the camp to the place where he expects to hunt during the day. The melody is simple and plaintive.

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The South | How Come Brer Bear Sleep in the Winter

He-e! Hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, Tsistuyi’ nehandu’yanû’, Tsistuyi’ nehandu’yanû’—Yoho-o! He-e! Hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, Kuwâhi’ nehandu’yanû’, Kuwâhi’ nehandu’yanû’—Yoho-o! He-e! Hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, Uyâhye’ nehandu’yanû’, Uyâhye’ nehandu’yanû’—Yoho-o! He-e! Hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, hayuya’haniwä’, Gâte’gwâ’ nehandu’yanû’, Gâte’gwâ’ nehandu’yanû’—Yoho-o! (Recited) Ûlë-`nû’ asëhï’ tadeyâ’statakûhï’ gûñ’näge astû’ tsïkï’ He! Hayuya’haniwä’ (four times), In Tsistu’yï you were conceived (two times)—Yoho! He! Hayuya’haniwä’ (four times), In Kuwâ’hï you were conceived (two times)—Yoho! He! Hayuya’haniwä’ (four times), In Uyâ’hye you were conceived (two times)—Yoho! He! Hayuya’haniwä’ (four times), In Gâte’gwâ you were conceived (two times)—Yoho! And now surely we and the good black things, the best of all, shall see each other.

HOW COME BRER BEAR SLEEP IN THE WINTER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 287–88. Date: 1898 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

The exploits of a trickster or culture hero are commonly celebrated in the animal fables and the origin tales that arise not only in African

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American repertoires but in the traditional narratives of many of the world’s cultures. Rabbit usually plays the role of master trickster, but this narrative deviates from that model and instead celebrates cooperation and community action. In concert, the group bands together to manage the behavior of a larger and more powerful tyrant. As such, the tale offers alternative strategies to trickster’s wily deviance or the outlaw hero’s bold frontal attacks for dealing with a common threat. The threat is simply diminished, however, rather than eliminated because of individual frailties—“a meddlesomeness to move them rocks.” Thus, the narrative simultaneously praises cooperation and warns against potential pitfalls to community action. Neither message would have been lost on the African American audiences for whom the tale originally was performed.

W

hen the animals was young, Brer Bar, he never sleep in the winter, no more’n the rest. The way it was in them days, old man Bar was flying roun’ more same than the other creeters, and he was the meanest one in the lot, and ’cause he the biggest he get in he mind that he king of the country, and the way he put on the animals was scand’lous, that it was. Well, the animals was all crossways wid the old man a long time, but they bound to step up when he tell ’em, cause you kin see in these times old Brer Bar ain’t a powerful man, but he just on the onery side, was what he was in the old times. ’Pears like all the animals is getting mighty low down these here times, ’cept old Sis Coon, and sure you born she get more heady every year. Well, they talk it over ’twixt themselves many and many a day, how they going to take down Mr. Bar. They know he mighty fond of sleepin’ in the dark, and one day Brer Rabbit ’low that they stop the old man up when he sleep in a dark tree; he take a mighty long nap, and they get a little comfort. So they all watch out, and when the old man sleep that night in a hollow tree they all turn in and tote rocks and brush, and stop up the hole. And sure ’nough, when morning come, Brer Bar don’t know it, and he just sleep on; when he wake up he see it all dark, and he say day ain’t break yet, and he turn over and go sleep, and there the old man sleep just that a way till the leaves turn out the trees, and I ’spect the old man been sleeping there to this day; but the animals, they all hold the old man dead for sure, and they just feel a meddlesomness to move them rocks; and when they let the light in, old Brer Bar he just crack he eye and stretch hisself and come out, and when he see the spring done come he say, the old man did, that he done had a mighty

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The South | How Come Mr. Buzzard to Have a Bald Head

comfortable winter, and from that time every year, when the cold come, old Brer Bar go to sleep.

HOW COME MR. BUZZARD TO HAVE A BALD HEAD Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 288–89. Date: 1898 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

Ann Nancy, the protagonist of this tale, is a North American incarnation of Anansi, the familiar West African and Caribbean trickster. As a result of the process of oral transmission, in which “Anansi” is homophonous with “Ann Nancy,” he is given a name that is more comprehensible in nineteenth-century North Carolina. With this transformation comes a change in gender from male to female in keeping with the name shift. These changes in the West African and West Indian tale illustrate principles of localization discussed in the Introduction. As is the case with her Caribbean and Continental African counterpart, however, Ann Nancy is an anthropomorphic spider with a penchant for pranks and an insatiable appetite. As with most other trickster figures, Ann Nancy lives by her wits—usually at the expense of her neighbors—employing subterfuge to gain her selfish ends and to extricate herself from the trouble which inevitably comes from her schemes. Ann Nancy, as noted by the narrator, is particularly mean-spirited and unforgiving. Her “sour” mind and temper not only fulfill her desire for revenge but also forever alter Buzzard’s appearance and appetite.

O

ne day, in the old times, Ann Nancy started out to find a good place for to build her house; she walk on till she find a break in a nice damp rock, and she set down to rest, and take ’servation of the points to throw her threads.

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Presently, she hear a great floppin’ of wings, and the old Mr. Buzzard come flying down and light on the rock, with a big piece of meat in he mouth. Ann Nancy, she scroon in the rock and look out, and she hear Mr. Buzzard say, “Good safe, good safe, come down, come down,” and sure ’nough, when he say it three times, a safe come down, and Mr. Buzzard, he open the door and put in he meat and say, “Good safe, good safe, go up, go up,” and it go up aright, and Mr. Buzzard fly away. Then Ann Nancy, she set and study ’bout it, ’cause she done see the safe was full of all the good things she ever hear of, and it come across her mind to call it and see if it come down; so she say, like Mr. Buzzard, “Good safe, good safe, come down, come down,” and sure ’nough, when she say it three times, down it come, and she open the door and step in, and she say, “Good safe, good safe, go up, go up,” and up she go, and she eat her fill, and have a fine time. Directly she hear a voice say, “Good safe, good safe, come down, come down,” and the safe start down, and Ann Nancy, she so scared, she don’t know what to do, but she say soft and quickly, “Good safe, go up,” and it stop, and go up a little, but Mr. Buzzard say, “Good safe, come down, come down,” and down it start, and poor Ann Nancy whisper quick, “Go up, good safe, go up,” and it go back. And so they go for a long time, only Mr. Buzzard can’t hear Ann Nancy, ’cause she whisper soft to the safe, and he cock he eye in ’stonishment to see the old safe bob up and down, like it gone ’stracted [distracted, crazy]. So they keep on, “Good safe, good safe, come down,” “Good safe, good safe, go up,” till poor Ann Nancy’s brain get ’fused [confused], and she make a slip and say, “Good safe, come down,” and down it come. Mr. Buzzard, he open the do’, and there he find Ann Nancy, and he say, “Oh you poor mis’rable creeter,” and he just ’bout to eat her up, when poor Ann Nancy, she begged so hard, and compliment his fine presence, and compare how he sail in the clouds while she ’bliged [is obliged] to crawl in the dirt, till he that proudful and set up he feel mighty pardoning spirit, and he let her go. But Ann Nancy ain’t got no gratitude in her mind; she feel she looked down on by all the creeters, and it sour her mind and temper. She ain’t gwine forget anybody what cross her path, no, that she don’t, and while she spin her house she just study constant how she gwine get the best of every creeter. She knew Mr. Buzzard’s weak point am he stomach, and one day she make it out dat she make a dining, and ’vite Mr. Buzzard and Miss Buzzard and the children. Ann Nancy, she know how to set out a-dining for sure, and when they all done got sot down to the table, and she mighty busy passing the hot coffee to Mr. Buzzard and the little Buzzards, she have a powerful big pot of scalding water ready, and she slop it all over poor old Mr. Buzzard’s head, and the poor old man

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The South | The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance

go bald-headed from that day. And he don’t forget it on Ann Nancy, ’cause you see she de onliest creeter on the top side the earth what Mr. Buzzard don’t eat.

THE RATTLESNAKE’S VENGEANCE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable (perhaps Swimmer, see “Origin of the Bear: The Bear Songs,” p. 28) Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Page 306 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. Date: 1898 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

According to Cherokee tradition, snakes were supernatural beings possessing power over meteorological phenomena as well as over plant and animal life. The narrative traditions contain an extensive selection of myths and legends devoted to snakes both natural and mythic. Snakes are the focus of prayers and rituals, and rattlesnakes are invested with particular power. Although killing them is usually an invitation to disaster (as in the following myth), holy persons who are trained in the appropriate rites, songs, and prayers may kill them in order to obtain teeth, rattles, flesh, or oil for medicinal or religious purposes. “The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance” reveals the character of this animal and relates the origin of one of the ritual songs associated with the feared and venerated rattlesnake.

O

ne day in the old times when we could still talk with other creatures, while some children were playing about the house, their mother inside heard them scream. Running out she found that a rattlesnake had crawled from the grass, and taking up a stick she killed it. The father was out hunting in the mountains, and that evening when coming home after dark through the gap he heard a strange wailing sound. Looking about he found that he had come into the

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midst of a whole company of rattlesnakes, which all had their mouths open and seemed to be crying. He asked them the reason of their trouble, and they told him that his own wife had that day killed their chief, the Yellow Rattlesnake, and they were just now about to send the Black Rattlesnake to take revenge. The hunter said he was very sorry, but they told him that if he spoke the truth he must be ready to make satisfaction and give his wife as a sacrifice for the life of their chief. Not knowing what might happen otherwise, he consented. They then told him that the Black Rattlesnake would go home with him and coil up just outside the door in the dark. He must go inside, where he would find his wife awaiting him, and ask her to get him a drink of fresh water from the spring. That was all. He went home and knew that the Black Rattlesnake was following. It was night when he arrived and very dark, but he found his wife waiting with his supper ready. He sat down and asked for a drink of water. She handed him a gourd full from the jar, but he said he wanted it fresh from the spring, so she took a bowl and went out of the door. The next moment he heard a cry, and going out he found that the Black Rattlesnake had bitten her and that she was already dying. He stayed with her until she was dead, when the Black Rattlesnake came out from the grass again and said his tribe was now satisfied. He then taught the hunter a prayer song, and said, “When you meet any of us hereafter sing this song and we will not hurt you; but if by accident one of us should bite one of your people then sing this song over him and he will recover.” And the Cherokee have kept the song to this day.

HOW COME PIGS CAN SEE THE WIND Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 285–86. Date: 1898 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

This tale is reminiscent of the well-known “Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf,” which was popular in the late nineteenth century. In fact,

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The South | How Come Pigs Can See the Wind

Joel Chandler Harris included a wolf and pig tale in his Nights with Uncle Remus, published in 1883. Unlike either Chandler’s version or the tales of the Big Bad Wolf familiar to American children, this is an origin narrative. Brer Wolf calls on Satan for help, and the encounter ends badly for Sis Pig. The collector provided no contextual information nor commentary along with the folktale, but several features of the tale invite further speculation. For instance, Brer Wolf claims that he is “the master,” leading to Sis Pig’s surrender of four of her five offspring. This action reflects the bondsperson’s plight and also casts light on the master’s character. In addition, Brer Wolf enlists Satan’s aid only to find himself frightened out of his wits by his pact. Similar pacts throughout African American tradition elicit similar consequences; perhaps the best known is the legend of blues musician Robert Johnson (1911–1938) selling his soul to the Devil at the crossroads.

D

id you done hear how come that old Sis Pig can see the wind? Well, to be sure, ain’t you never hear that? Well, don’t you take noticement, many and many a time, how unrestful, and ’stracted like, the pigs is, when the wind blows, and how they squeal, and run this here way and that here way, like they’s ’stracted? Well, sir, all dat gwine on is along of the fact that they can see the wind. One time the old sow, she have five little pigs—four black and one white one. Now old Brer Wolf, he have a mighty good mouth for pig meat, and he go every night and walk round and round Miss Pig’s house, but Sis Pig, she have the door lock fast. One night, he dress up just like he was a man, and he put a tall hat on he head, and shoes on he foots; he take a sack of corn, and he walk hard, and make a mighty fuss on the brick walk, right up to the door, and he knock loud on the door in a great haste, and Sis Pig, she say, “Who there?” and Brer Wolf say up, loud and powerful, Brer Wolf did, “Quit your fooling, old woman, I is the master, come for to put my mark on the new pigs; turn ’em loose here lively.” And old Sis Pig, she mighty skeered, but she feared not to turn ’em out; so she crack the door, and turn out the four black pigs, but the little white pig, he am her eyeballs, the little white pig was, and when he turn come, she just shut the door and hold it fast. And Brer Wolf, he put down the corn, and just pick up the four little pigs and tote ’em off home; but when they done gone, he mouth hone for the little

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pig, but Sis Pig, she keep him mighty close. One night Brer Wolf was wandering up and down the woods, and he meet up with old Satan, and he ask Brer Wolf, old Satan did, can he help him, and Brer Wolf he just tell him what on he mind, and old Satan told him to lead on to Miss Pig’s house, and he help him out. So Brer Wolf he lead on, and directly there Sis Pig’s house, and old Satan, he ’gin to puff and blow, and puff and blow, till Brer Wolf he that skeered, Brer Wolf is, that he hair fairly stand on end; and Miss Pig she done hear the mighty wind, and the house a-cracking, and they hear her inside down on her knees, just calling on God A’mighty for mercy; but old Satan, he puff and blow, and puff and blow, and the house crack and tremble, and he say, old Satan did, “You hear this here mighty wind, Sis Pig, but if you look this here way you can see it.” And Sis Pig, she that skeered, she crack the door and look out, and there she see old Satan’s breath, like red smoke, blowing on the house, and from that day the pigs can see the wind, and it look red, the wind look red, sir. How we know that? I tell you how we know that, sir: if anybody miss a pig and take the milk, then they can see the wind, and they done tell it was red.

WHY MR. OWL CAN’T SING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 134–35. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

This tale, along with explaining the origin of the owl’s cry and current habitat, underscores the value of responsibility and respectability—qualities needed to preserve one’s social standing in the traditional communities in which this and similar tales circulate. Choosing the frivolous activities of singing and fiddling over his domestic responsibilities of staying home to mind the children, Mr. Owl falls victim to the trifling of Miss Cuckoo—the very image of irresponsibility and disrespectability. As a result, his family is fragmented, his previous social status is undermined,

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The South | Why Mr. Owl Can’t Sing

and he loses the fine singing voice that led to his downfall. All in all, Mr. Owl illustrates the dangers of nonsensical behavior and the ways in which it can stand in opposition to respectability and domesticity. See Roger Abrahams 1983 and 1985 works for discussions of these central concepts in African American culture.

W

hen Mr. Owl was young, he could sing to beat all the birds in the woods. This ole man what you see flying about calling “whoo, whoo!” In the ole time, he could sing so fine that he teach the singing-school. In them days Mr. Owl he never wander round, like he do in these here times, ’cause he have a happy home, and he stay home with his wife and children, like a ’spectable man. But that poor ole man done see a heap of trouble in he time, he shore has; and it all come along ’cause of that trifling no count Miss Cuckoo, what too sorry to build her nest fer herself, but go about laying her eggs in her neighbors’ nests. In the old time, Mr. and Miss Owl they belong to the quality; and they have a shore ’nuff quality house, not like these little houses what you see these here times, what secondary people live in. One night Miss Owl she go out to pay a visit, and she leave Mr. Owl at home to mind the children; but directly she gone, Mr. Owl he take he fiddle under he arm, and go off to he singing-school. Then that trifling no count Miss Cuckoo come sailing along calling “Cuckoo, cuckoo!” And she leave her eggs in Miss Owl’s fine nest, and then she go sailing off, calling, “Cuckoo, cuckoo!” Now, presently Miss Owl she come home; and when she find that egg in her nest, she rare end charge on the poor ole man to beat all; and she tell him she never live with him no more til he tell her who lay that egg; but the poor ole man can’t tell her, ’cause he don’t know hisself. But Miss Owl she be mighty proud-spirited; and what she done say, she done say. So the ole man he leave he fine home, and he go wandering through the woods looking for the one what lay that egg and make all he trouble. And the ole man he that sorrowful he can’t sing no more, but jest go sailing ’bout, asking, “Whoo, whoo!” But Mr. Owl he never find out to this day who lay that egg, and so Miss Owl never live with him no more; but he keep on asking, “Whoo, whoo?” And now it done been that long, the poor ole man plum forgot how to sing, and he don’t play he fiddle no more, and can’t say nothing but “Whoo, whoo!”

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WHEN BRER RABBIT SAW BRER DOG’S MOUTH SO BRER DOG CAN WHISTLE Tradition Bearer: Unknown Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 125–26. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

The behavior of Brer Rabbit in the following tale is more representative of his usual nature in the African American tradition than was his altruism in “Why the People Tote Brer Rabbit Foot in their Pocket.” Brer Rabbit, despite “know[ing] in his own mind Brer Dog ain’ going to whistle,” saws Brer Dog’s mouth anyway. As in many of his escapades, the trickster’s motivation is simply to stir up trouble. Also typical is the fact that both Brer Rabbit and the butt of his trick, Brer Dog, suffer injuries that mark them and set up their social relationship from that day forward.

I

n the ole times, when Brer Dog a-roaming through the woods, he come up with Brer Rabbit, Brer Dog do. Brer Rabbit he set on the sand just awhistling, and a-picking of the banjo. Now, in them times Brer Rabbit was a master-hand with the banjo. These here hard times ’pears like Brer Rabbit done forget how to whistle, and you don’ hear him pick the banjo no more; but in the ole times Brer Rabbit he whistle and frolic, and frolic and whistle, from morning til night. Well, Brer Dog he mighty envious of Brer Rabbit, ’cause Brer Dog he can’t whistle, and he can’t sing, Brer Dog can’t. Brer Dog he think he give anything in reason if he could whistle like Brer Rabbit, so Brer Dog he beg Brer Rabbit to learn hisself to whistle. Now, Brer Dog he called the most reliable man in the county; and he have some standing, Brer Dog do; and he have right smart of sense, Brer Dog have;

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The South | When Brer Rabbit Saw Brer Dog’s Mouth So Brer Dog Can Whistle

but bless you, Sir, Brer Dog he can’t conjure ’longside that Ole Brer Rabbit, that he can’t. Well, when Brer Dog beg Brer Rabbit will he learn hisself to whistle, Brer Rabbit he say, “Brer Dog, your mouth ain’t shape for whistling.” Brer Rabbit he say, “Name of goodness, Brer Dog, how come you studying ’bout whistling with that mouth? Now, Brer Dog, you just watch my mouth and try youself”; and Brer Rabbit he just corner up his mouth and whistle to beat all. Brer Dog he try his best to corner up his mouth like Brer Rabbit; but he can’t do it, Brer Dog can’t. But the more Brer Dog watch Brer Rabbit whistle, the more envious Brer Dog get to whistle hisself. Now, Brer Dog he know how Brer Rabbit are a doctor; so Brer Dog he ask Brer Rabbit can he fix his mouth so he can whistle? Brer Rabbit, he ’low as how he might fix Brer Dog’s mouth so he can whistle just tolerable, but Brer Rabbit he ’low how he have to saw the corners of Brer Dog’s mouth right smart; and he ’low, Brer Rabbit do, how “it be mighty worrisome for Brer Dog.” Now, Brer Dog, he that envious to whistle like Brer Rabbit, Brer Dog he ’clare he let Brer Rabbit saw his mouth. Brer Rabbit he say as how he don’ want deceive Brer Dog; and he say, Brer Rabbit do, as how he ain’ gwine promise to make Brer Dog whistle more same as hisself, but he say he “make Brer Dog whistle tolerable.” So Brer Rabbit he get his saw, and he saw a slit in the corners Brer Dog’s mouth. It nateraly just nigh ’bout kill Ole Brer Dog; but Brer Dog he are a thorough-going man, and what Brer Dog say he going to do, he going to do, he sure is. So Brer Dog he just hold hisself together, and let Brer Rabbit saw his mouth. Now, Brer Rabbit he know in his own mind Brer Dog ain’ going to whistle sure ’nough, but Brer Rabbit he don’ know just what Brer Dog going to say; so when Brer Rabbit get through a-sawing of Brer Dog’s mouth, Brer Rabbit he say, “Now try if you can whistle!” Brer Dog he open his mouth, and he try to whistle; and he say, “Bow, wow, wow!” Brer Dog do say that for a fact. Well, when Brer Rabbit hear Brer Dog whistle that there way, Brer Rabbit he that scared he just turn and fly for home; but Brer Dog he that mad, when he hears hisself whistle that there way, he say he going to finish Ole Brer Rabbit: so Brer Dog he put out after Brer Rabbit just a-hollering, “Bow wow, bow wow, bow wow!” Now, in them times, Brer Rabbit he have a long bushy tail. Brer Rabbit he mighty proud of his tail in the ole times. Well, Brer Rabbit he do his best, and he just burn the wind through the woods; but Brer Dog he just going on the jump, “Bow wow, bow wow!”

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Presently Brer Dog he see Brer Rabbit, and he think he got him; and Brer Dog he open his mouth and jump for Brer Rabbit, and Brer Dog he just bite Brer Rabbit’s fine tail plum off. That how come Brer Rabbit have such little no-count tail these here times; and Brer Dog he that mad with ole Brer Rabbit ’cause he saw his mouth, when he run Brer Rabbit through the woods, he still holler, “Bow wow, bow wow!” And you take noticement how, when Brer Rabbit hear Brer Dog say that, Brer Rabbit he just pick up his foots and fly, ’cause Brer Rabbit done remember how he done saw Brer Dog’s mouth.

OL’ RABBIT AN’ DE DAWG HE STOLE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Owen, Mary A. “Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1890): 135–38. Date: 1890 Original Source: Missouri National Origin: African American

The animal tale of “Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole” offers an elaborate explanation of the reason dogs chase rabbits. In this case, Rabbit’s powers as a conjure man (practitioner of folk magic) bring him more attention than he intends. Along the way, the tradition bearer develops stock derisive images of European Americans and Native Americans. A major portion of the original attempt at rendering the rural African American Southern dialect has been modified. The original version is included in the Appendix to this volume.

I

n de good ole times, Ole Rabbit he wasn’t bothered none by de neighbors. It was miles to de corner of any one of hims fiel’.

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The South | Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole

After awhile, Mister Injun an’ he folkses set ’em up a settlement, but dat ain’ nothin’, ’cause Injun folks was always a-paradin’ aroun’ an’ a-catchin up dey baggage an’ a-movin’ it here an’ yonder. By an’ by, though, de white men come ’long a-choppin’ down de trees an’ adiggin’ up de earth. Den all de critters pack dey go-to-meetin’ clothes in their pillow-case an’ get ready to start, ’cause dey know dat Mister White Man come for to stay, an’ he ain’ one o’ de kind dat want to sleep three in de bed an’ dey ain’ ne’er. Dat is all of ’em ’cept Ole Chuffy Rabbit an’ de Squirrel family set out. Dey two allow dey goin’ to tough it out awhile longer. What pester Ole Chuffy mo’ den all de res’ was dat white man’s dawg. It wasn’t like dem Injun dawgs, dat’s a-scatterin’ roun’ de country today an’ in de pot tomorrow (i.e., get eaten tomorrow). It was one o’ dem sharp-nosed houn’ dawgs dat hunt all day an’ howl all night. It was as still as a fox on a turkey-hunt from de mawnin’ til candle-light, but jess wait til de sun go down an’ de moon come up an’ Oh Lawd! Ah, oo-oo-oo-wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Hear it go from mos’ sun-down to mos’ sun-up, an’ dat was de mos’ aggravatingest soun’ dat de Ole Boy e’er put in de throat of a livin’ critter. It distracted Ole Rabbit. He flounce roun’ in de bed like a cat-fish on de hook. He groan an’ he grunt, an’ he turn an’ roll, an’ he jus’ can’t get no good res’. Ole Miss Rabbit she obliged to roll de bed-covers roun’ her ears, she dat scandalized. “Why don’t yo’ get outen de bed an’ turn yo’ shoe wid de bottom-side up an’ set your bare foot onto it?” she say. “Dat make any dawg stop he yowlin’.” “Well! ain’ I done it forty-eleven time?” say Ole Man Rabbit jus’ a-foamin’ an’ a-snortin’. “Ain’ I been a-hoppin’ in an’ out de bed all de lib-long night? ’Cause it stop ’em for a half a jiff an’ den it tune up agin ’for I jus’ kin get de bed warm under me.” Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, OW! Dat ole houn’ fetch a yowl dat far make de man in de moon blink. “Cuss dat ole dawg! Cuss him say I! Why don’t dat ole fool dat own him stuff a corn-cob down he throat, or chop him into sausage meat?” says Ole Rabbit, says ’e. “I givin’ up on de sleepin’ question tonight,” says ’e, “but I lay I ain’ disturbed like dis in my res’ tomorrer,” says ’e. Wid dat he bounce out on de floor an’ haul on he britches an’ light a candle; an’ he take dat candle in he han’ an’ he go pokin’ round’ amongst de shadows like he a-huntin’ for sumpin’. Scratch, scratch! Scuffle, scuffle! He go in de corners of de cupboard. “Ah oo-oo-oo! Wow, ow, ow!” go de houn’ outside.

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Scratch, scratch! scuffle, scuffle! Ah oo-oo-oo! Wow, ow, ow! Scratch, scratch! Scuffle, scuffle! Ah oo-oo-oo! Wow, ow, ow! An’ so dey keep it up, til ole Miss Rabbit is as mad at one as the other. “What is you doin’, Mister Rabbit?” she say aging an’ aging, but Ole Chuff ain’ satisfy ’bout dat. Directly, though, when he get through an’ blow out de candle an’ de day goin’ to broke, she been noticin’ dat he step sorta lop-side. “What is de matter, Mister Rabbit?” she ask. “Is you run a brier into yo’ foot?” “No,” says ’e, mighty short, “I ain’ got no brier in my foot dat I knows of, but I gotta brier in my mine ’bout de size of a snipe-bill, of I ain’ mistookened.” At dat she let fly a swam o’ questions, but he jus’ grin dry an’ say— “Ask me no questions an’ I tell yo’ no lies. Don’t bother me, ole woman (old woman, wife). I ain’ feel very strong in de head dis mornin’, an’ I might have to answer questions wid my fist if I gets pestered.” Dat shut ’er up, in due course, an’ she set in to gettin’ breakfast. Pretty soon she holler out— “Who been touchin’ de bread? Somebody been a-cuttin’ de bread! I lay I got to trounce greedy chilluns for dat. Appear like I can’t set down nothin’ dese days but dey got to muss in it! I goin’ to cut me a big hick’ry limb’ dis mornin’ an’ see if I can’t lick some manners into de whole kit an’ caboodle of ’em! In de meanwhiles o’ gettin’ dat limb’ I goin’ to smack de jaws of de whole crowd.” “No yo’ ain’,” says Ole Rabbit, says ’e. “Jus’ left dem young uns o’ mine ’lone. Dey ain’ done nuttin’. I cut dat bread, an’ I got dat bread, an’ I ain’ goin’ to eat ’er up.” Pretty soon ole Miss Rabbit sing out agin. “Who been cuttin’ de bakin (bacon) fat?” says she, “an’ cuttin’ it crooked too,” says she. “I lay I jus’ leave de breakfast an’ set out ’n’ get dat limb’ right now,” says she. “No, yo’ won’t,” says Ole Rabbit, says ’e. “I ain’ goin’ to have de sense beat outten dem young uns o’ mine. I took dat fat an’ I got dat fat, an’ if I haggle de slice (cut the slice crooked) dat my look out,” says ’e. “I paid for it, an’ I goin’ to cut it wid de saw or de scissor, if I feel like it,” says ’e. Wid dat he get up an’ walk off, lim-petty-limp. Miss Rabbit ain’ see no mo’ of ’im ‘til sundown. Den he come in lookin’ mighty tuckered out, but jus’ a-grinnin’ like a baked skunk. He set down he did, an’ et like he been holler clear to he toes, but he won’t say nuttin’. When he get through he sorter stretch hissef an’ say, “I goin’ to go to bed. I got a heap o’ sleep to make up, an’ I lay no dawg ain’ goin’ to ’sturb my res’ dis night.”

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Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole

An’ dey don’t. Dey wasn’t a soun’, an’ Miss Rabbit make a great admiration at dat in her mind, but she ain’ got nobody to talk it over with til de nex’ mornin’, when Ole Rabbit get up as gay an’ sassy as a yearlin’. Den ’e have de big tale to tell, an’ dis was what he tell ’er— When he was a-foolin’ in de cupboard he get ’im a piece o’ bread, an’ he tie dat on he foot. Den he cut ’im a slice o’ bakin’, an’ he put dat on top de bread. Den he slip on he shoe an’ he start out. Dat he do ’cause he goin’ to fix ’im some shoe-bread for feed to dat dawg, ’cause if yo’ wear bread in yo’ shoe an’ den give it to a dawg, an he eat it, dat dawg your’n. He goin’ to foller yo’ to de ends o’ de Earth, dat he am. De bakin he put against dat bread give it a good taste, an’ to fool de folks what see ’im, ’cause he goin’ to let on like he run a brier in he foot an’ tuck ’n’ putt on dat bakin for to draw out de soreness an’ keep ’im from agettin’ de lock-jaw. Well, he tromp roun’ til de white man go to de fiel’, an’ den he sorter slip up easy-like, an’ he fling dat shoe-bread afront o’ dat ole houn’ dawg. It gulp it down in jus’ one swaller. Yo’ know dem houn’ dawgs jus’ always been hongry sense de minute dey was barn, an’ yo’ can’t fill him up no mo’ ’n if dey got holes in him de same es a collander. De minute dat shoe-bread been swaller, dat Ole houn’-dawg jus’ naturally long after Ole Rabbit. He tuck out after ’im through’ de brush so swif’ dat it sorter scare Ole Chuffy. He was jus’ a-studyin’ ’bout a-leadin’ dat houn’ to de creek, an’ a-tyin’ a rock roun’ he neck an’ a-drownin’ him, but dis here terrible hurry surprise ’im so dat he jus’ run like de Ole Boy was a-tryin’ to catch ’im. Here dey had it! Up hill an’ down holler, across de fiel’ an’ roun’ de stump, over an’ under, roun’ an’ roun’, catch if yo’ kin an’ follow if yo’ can’t. O sirs, dat was a race! No tellin’ how it might have come out of Ole Rab hadn’t run across an Injun man wid a bow an’ arrow. De Injun gun to fit de arrow to de string for to shoot dat Chuffy Rabbit, when he holler out loud as he could holler for de shortness of he breath, “Oh! Hold on, Mister Injun Man, hole on a minute. I’m a-fetchin’ yo’ a present,” says ’e, “a mighty nice present,” says ’e. “What yo’ fetch?” says de Injun Man, kind o’ suspicious-like. “It’s a dawg,” says Ole Rabbit, a-working he ears an’ a-flinchin’ he nose, ’cause he here dat dawn a-cracklin’ through’ de brush, “a mighty nice fat dawg, Mister Injun Man. I here tell dat yo’ ole woman was poorly, an’ I was a-bringin’ dies here houn’ dawg so yo’ could make a stew oaten him,” says ’e. “I’d a-fetch him ready cook,” says ’e, “but my ole woman jus’ nowhere ’long o’ yon in de

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makin’ o’ stews,” says ’e. “I was for fetchin’ have string o’ onions for seas’ in an’ den I don’t know if yo’ like him wid onions,” says ’e. De Injun certainly was tickle wid dat lollygag, but he don’t say much. He jus’ sorter grunt an’ look towards de brush. “Dat him! Dat my houn’-dawg a-comin’!” say Ole Rabbit a-flinchin’ mo’ an’ mo’ as de cracklin’ come nearer. “Yo’ bettah shoot him, jus’ as ’e bounce outen de brush, ’cause dat a monstrous shy dawg, monstrous shy! He won’t foller nobody but me, an’ I can’t go ’long home wid yo’ an’ take him, ’cause I’m lame. Las’ night I couldn’t sleep my lef’ behin’ foot hurt so, an’ now I got him tie up in bakin fat. Shoot him right here, Mister Injun! Dat de bes’ an’ de safes’, come on!” Jus’ dat minute out jump de dawg, an’—zim!—Mister Injun jus’ shoot him an’ pin him to de groun’. Den Ole Man Rabbit mop de sweat offen he face an’ lope off home, leas’ dat de tale he tell de family, an’ if it ain’t true nobody ain’t a-denyin’ it dese days, an’ as he say to he ole woman, bit a good laughin’ tale today, but twas monstrous solemn yesterday. Since dat time all de houn’ dawgs is surely conjure, ’cause if dey catch a glimpse of a rabbit tail out dey take out after it.

ALLEN CHESSER’S INITIATION: THE BEAR FIGHT Tradition Bearer: Allen Chesser Source: Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 409–10. Date: ca. 1914 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: European American

Allen Chesser’s personal experience narrative focuses on the dangers of life in the Georgia swamps during his boyhood in the late nineteenth century. While some elements seem to border on fiction, the story never slips into tall tale mode.

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The South | Allen Chesser’s Initiation: The Bear Fight

N

ow I’ll tell yet about that Bear fight, if you’ll get your book. “I must tell yet how come we come to go. I was a boy; I reckon ten or twelve years old, an’ the other boys ’uz older. I ’uz off with my bow an’ arrow some’eres, an’ they went off an’ lef’ me; took the gun an’ the dogs. “They lef’ one gun, an’ hit was an of flint-an’-steel. As true a shootin’ gun as I ever shot, too. I taken that gun, an’ went to Hurst Island. Wal, when I walked out on the island, I didn’t have to look, there was the Bear right there. An’ I, yet know, could ’a’ killed with all ease of I had a mind to-if I’d had the sense I have now-but I thought I had to be right close on to ’im. “An’ while I was a-slippin’ to get close to ’im, he jumped up a tree. He went about two jumps up the tree (I could hear ’is paws hit the tree), an’ slung ’is head off on each side, thisaway an’ thataway, an’ then ’e come down. He took ’is time, an’ went noselin’ about, feedin’ on palmetto buds. An’ ’e drifted off in the bay, an’ me along after ’im, tryin’ to get a chance to shoot. Pokin’ along an’ feedin’ along. As fur as he went, I went. An’ I got, I reckon, in about ten steps from ’im. Lost all my good chances to kill ’im out on the island, an’ had ’im there in that bay. I couldn’t see nothin’ of ’im but ’is head. When I decided to shoot (I got a notion to shoot then), I aimed through the bushes to strike ’is body, an’ I shot. Of course, them kind of ball is easy turned. An’ of course I missed ’imp clear— never touched ’imp. So I stood still, an’ so did the Bear. An’ ’e stood there, I reckon, somethin’ like a quarter of a minute, somethin’ like a few breaths. An’ ’e commenced grumblin’, growlin’; I could hear ’imp jest as plain, in ’is manner. An’ the notion struck me; I had better get out of that bay. So I went, an’ I went in a hurry, too. I didn’t look for a Bear of nothin’, only for a way to get out of that bay, quick. I got out to the island. The island was burnt off, an’ the grass ’uz only about that high [stretching out his hand a foot above the ground]; looked pretty an’ green. So I went out about, I reckon, seventy-five yards on the island. The notion struck me I better load my gun. An’ I sot my gun down jest like that [butt touching the ground, barrel at a slant], an’ I was a-pourin’ my charge of powder in. An’ I raised my head an’ looked back to see of I could see anything of the Bear; an’ shore enough he come right on my trail. So I pulled out my knife an’ opened it, an’ stuck it in the ground right down beside me, so of I come in close contact, I’d have a chance to use it. So I kep’ on loadin’ then jest as fast as I could (kep’ the balls aroun’ loose in my pocket), an’ a-lookin’ for the Bear, an’ he kep’ a-comin’, too. “So there ’us an ol’ log that had fell, lyin’ jest like that, an’ ’e come to the top of the log (some of rotten limbs), an’ he ’uz a-gnawin’ on them limbs, poppin’ the limbs an’ throwin’ the bark off’n ’em.’ “Wha’d he do that for?” I ventured to ask.

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“He ’uz mad. He walked jest like a billy goat (you’ve seen ’em when they’re mad—feel bigitty), an’ ’e had ’is ears hugged right close to ’is head, jest thataway, an’ I was settin’ about four er five steps from the stump of that tree. An’ ’e got through gnawin’ there (at the other end of the log). He raised ’is head up, jest looked right at me, jest as straight as he could do it. An’ ’e grinned. An’ I could see ’is teeth a-shinin’, jest as pretty an’ white. Didn’t open ’is mouth, jest there with ’is ears laid back. “He started to walk then, right aside of the log, till ’e got to the stump. An’ then ’e put in to gnaw on it, jest like ’e had on the top, an’ jest like he’d be gnawin’ on me in a minute, I thought, an’ me a-loadin’ all that time. I ’uz about done loadin’ then. I’d turned the gun down then to put the primin’ in the pan. Wal, I ’uz down on my knees. I jest squatted down thataway. I took deliberate aim at ’im, too, an’ shot. I knowed it had to be a dead shot, or me catched one or another. Spang said the rifle, an’ at the crack of the gun the Bear dashed. An’ I rise an’ took right after ’im. Now there was a chase, shore as you’re livin’. Wal, it ’uz about a hunderd yards, I reckon, to the swamp on the other side. I made a brave run that far. I thought I’d see ’im fall any minute, an’ I wanted to see that sight. “So when ’e landed inter the bushes, I stopped. I reckon I ’uz about thirty steps behind ’im. The next thing occurred to my mind ’uz to get out of that place. So I went an’ got my knife an’ my gun-stick. An’ I had a bay, I reckon, about three-quarters of a mile through, an’ the water about up to here [indicating his waist-line] on me. So your better know I ’uz makin’ all the railroad time I could. “Now all this [that follows] is imagination, I know it wuzn’t so, but I’m goin’ to tell you. I could hear that Bear come a-sousin’ right in behind me. “So that’s about all of it. I come back home. That’s jest about how near I come to gettin’ Bear-catched. The next stump he’d ’a’ gnawed on, I reckon ’u’d a’ been me. “I’ve had lots of contests with Bears an’ Alligators an’ things, but that’s about as near as I ever come to gettin’ Bear catched. “It took me from about one o’clock in the day to about sundown. “When the Bear ’uz up that tree, it ’uz only about sixty yards; I could ’a’ broke a ten-cent piece on ’im—a dollar anyhow. Them kind of guns shore shot true. “That ’uz my initiation, an’ it ’uz a pretty bad un, too. Like George Stokes said that time he got catched in the storm, with the timber fallin’ all about ’im, I wouldn’t ’a’ given ten cents fer my chances.”

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THE WINE, THE FARM, THE PRINCESS, AND THE TARBABY Tradition Bearer: Aneus Guerin Source: Claudel, Calvin. “Louisiana Tales of Jean Sot and Boqui and Lapin.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 8 (1944): 288–91. Date: 1931 Original Source: Aneus Guerin, Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana. Recorded by Lafayette Jarreau, “Creole Folklore of Pointe Coupee Parish.” MA thesis, Louisiana State University, 1931. National Origin: Cajun

The Cajun cycle of Lapin and Bouqui tales casts Lapin (French, “Rabbit”) in his common role of trickster and Bouqui (apparently derived from the Wolof word for “hyena,” as noted on p. 4) as Lapin’s foil and the butt of all his jokes. The Lapin and Bouqui cycle in general and “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” in particular show the influence of African American tradition. In this regard, this tale should be compared to the two Native American tales that follow: “The Tarbaby” (p. 52) and “The Rabbit and the Frenchman” (p. 54). Crosscultural borrowing and adaptation to the Southern environment are striking in these three tales. In addition, this tale, composed of several narratives that are capable of standing alone, should be compared to other trickster narratives in this collection, especially “How Brer


Rabbit Practice Medicine” (p. 66) and “Brother Rabbit an’ Brother TarBaby” (p. 232).

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ne day Comrade Lapin was working with Comrade Bouqui on a farm. They were cropping together that year, and they had arranged to divide the crop equally at the end of the year. It was very hot that day, and Comrade Lapin wanted to fool Comrade Bouqui in some way or other. “What do you say if we buy a jug of wine today?” suggested Lapin. “Fine!” agreed Bouqui. “You will go get it yourself.” Comrade Lapin went to fetch the wine. When he returned, he put it in a ditch where there was shade. He went to work again, but did not try to keep up with Bouqui. He took his time, cheating on his comrade. Bouqui was working fast to get finished, and Lapin was far behind. Suddenly Lapin exclaimed: “Ooh!” “What’s the matter?” requested Bouqui. “There’s someone calling me,” explained Lapin. “Go see who it is,” suggested Bouqui. Lapin left, went toward the jug and took a drink. When he returned, Bouqui asked him why he had stayed so long. “I was called for a christening,” explained Lapin. “Is that so?” questioned Bouqui. “What did you name the baby?” “I named him First-One,” continued Lapin. They started working, and soon Comrade Lapin was called again. He went to take another big drink. When he returned, he told Bouqui it was another christening and he had called the baby Second-One. Next he went to perform a third christening and named this baby ThirdOne. This time he finished drinking all the wine, turning the jug over before he returned to his work. “Ah now!” exclaimed Bouqui when it was time to quit, “let’s go drink us some wine now.” They went to the jug and saw it was turned over. There was not a drop of wine left in the jug. “Too bad!” declared Lapin. “Our wine is all lost.” Bouqui was sad, disappointed and tired. Comrade Lapin felt good as he returned to his cabin. A little while after that Bouqui and Lapin went into the field to see their potatoes. There was a good crop. The potato plants were big and full of flowers. They stayed there a long time, talking and admiring their labor.

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The South | The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby

“It’s almost time to dig our potatoes,” said Lapin “How are we going to divide our crop? Do you want to take the roots, and I’ll take the plant?” “Oh no!” replied Bouqui, “myself I want the pretty plant.” “As you wish,” agreed Lapin. When they took in the potato crop, Bouqui brought all the pretty plants into his storeroom. He had nothing at all. Lapin took the roots, and he had food for the whole year. Later on it was time to harvest the crop of corn. Bouqui made up his mind that Lapin would not fool him on the corn. He said he wanted the roots this time, and Lapin told him to choose as he wanted again. Bouqui took the roots, taking them to his storeroom, and he had nothing. Lapin took the stalks, and he had a lot to eat for the whole year. During the winter Bouqui went to ask Lapin for something to eat. Lapin refused him. Bouqui almost died from hunger that year, and he decided not to work on shares with Comrade Lapin anymore. Comrade Bouqui was very dissatisfied, but he was to be still more unhappy yet before he would be done with Lapin. They were courting the same girl, a princess. She was a pretty girl, and she liked Lapin better. Bouqui was jealous, and he wanted to know whether he or Lapin would marry the girl. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” suggested Comrade Bouqui to Lapin one day. “We’ll have a race. We’ll leave here together tomorrow morning. He who gets at the girl’s place first will marry her.” “Fine!” agreed Lapin. “We shall run a race.” As they had planned, the following morning they started the race. Comrade Lapin beat him by a long distance. When Bouqui got there, he asked Lapin to give him another chance. “What do you want to do this time, Comrade Bouqui?” asked Lapin. “Let’s see,” thought Bouqui, scratching his head. “Oh yes! Let’s boil a big pot of water, and he who jumps over it wins the girl. Do you want to try that?” “As for me, I’ll do whatever you want,” replied Lapin. They boiled some water until it was boiling over. They placed it in the yard by the house, and it was decided that Lapin should jump first. Lapin started running to make his jump; but when he got up to the big pot, fear seized him and he did not jump. “It’s high, yes!” exclaimed Lapin. He tried again. This time he jumped it. “It’s your turn now, Bouqui,” said Lapin. Bouqui started running. When he jumped, he fell into the middle of the pot. The water was so hot, he was cooked before he could count to four.

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After that Bouqui’s family had a grudge against Lapin. They blamed Lapin for the death of their son, Bouqui; and they watched for the chance to pay him back in the same way. Comrade Lapin would come to steal water from their well every night. Now old man Bouqui knew it was Lapin who was stealing his water. When Lapin came for water that night, he saw a little tarbaby. He could not make out who it was. He walked all around it, looking closely. Finally he got up enough courage to talk to it. “Get away from that well!” cried Lapin. But it did not act as if it heard. Lapin advanced more closely, crying out: “Go away! Go away, before I hit you a blow with my foot.” But it did not pay any attention at all. Comrade Lapin struck a blow with his foot, and his foot stayed stuck. “Let my foot go!” cried Lapin. “Let me go, or I’ll strike you with my other foot.” As he struck, the other foot stayed stuck, too. Lapin struck with his other two, and they stayed stuck, too. Then he struck with his head, his body, all staying stuck on the tarbaby. Lapin was well caught. The following morning old Bouqui found Lapin in his trap. “Now I have you!” exclaimed he. “I will go kill you, and I think I’ll burn you.” “Burn me if you will!” cried Lapin, “But I beg of you not to throw me into the briars behind the fence there. That would be too mean a death.” “I am going to give you the worst death I know,” added old man Bouqui, “and it’s into the briars you go.” He went off with Lapin, to throw him into the briars. When he got by the fence, he threw him over. Lapin fell into the middle of the briar patch. Old Bouqui looked through a crack to see him die, but Lapin only laughed at him. Bouqui realized his mistake, but too late. “You threw me exactly into my home here,” shouted back Lapin, running quickly toward his place. “He’s a bad fellow, yes, that Lapin!” exclaimed old Bouqui to himself, turning homeward very regretful.

THE TARBABY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 258–59 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929.

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The South | The Tarbaby

Date: 1929 Original Source: Natchez National Origin: Native American

The following narrative offers another version of the widespread Tarbaby tale type (AT175), known not only in the Americas but also in the Old World. There are many similarities, such as the “Briar patch punishment for Rabbit” (AT1310 A), but unlike the Cajun example of “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” (p. 49) and the Caribbean “Brother Rabbit an’ Brother Tar-Baby” (p. 232), the trickster hero Rabbit plays the role of shapeshifter by literally donning the skin of gray squirrel to gain initial access to the well. This disguise is also used in “Tasks of Rabbit,” which is collected among the neighboring Hitchiti; however, the change of species is magical rather than mechanical in their tale. Taking on the shape of another being by donning its skin is commonly associated with witchcraft—but not in this case, it seems. Also, no apparent significance can be found for Rabbit’s decision to adopt gray squirrel’s shape. Therefore, the similarity may indicate an exchange of motifs among neighboring groups sharing a common environment and way of life in the same region. It is ironic that Rabbit, who is seen to be the master of disguise in most narratives, is trapped by a similarly false image.

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ll of the wild animals appointed a time to dig for water and when the time came assembled and began digging. But presently Rabbit gave up digging, and the others went on digging without him. They found water. Then they stationed two people to watch it. But Rabbit became very thirsty. He killed a gray squirrel, stripped off its hide, got into it, and came to the watchers. It was Rabbit who did it, but in the form of the gray squirrel he said that he had become very thirsty for lack of water. “You may drink water because you are just a gray squirrel,” they said to him, and he drank. He drank all he wanted and went away. Then he pulled off the hide. But when he thought of going back to drink again the hide had become hard and he could not get it on, so when he became thirsty he dipped up the water at night. But when he set out water for his visitors they said to him, “Where did you find it?” and he answered, “I got it from the dew.” Then, following the tracks by

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the water, they saw signs of Rabbit, made an image of a person out of pitch and set it up near the place where they had dug the well. The next night Rabbit came and stood there. “Who are you?” he said. There was no reply and he continued, “If you do not speak I will strike you.” Rabbit struck it with one hand and his hand stuck to it. “Let me go. If you do not let me go I will strike you with my other hand,” he said, and he struck it with that hand. When he hit it that hand also stuck. “Let me go. Stop holding me. If you do not let me go I will kick you,” he said, and he kicked it. When he kicked it his foot stuck. “If you do not let go I will kick you with my other foot,” he said, and he kicked it with that foot. When he did so his other foot stuck. “Let me go,” he said, “I have my head left, and if you do not let me go I will butt you.” He pulled back and forth to get free and butted it with his head and his head stuck. Then he hung there all doubled up. While he was hanging there day came. And when it was light the water watchers came and found Rabbit hanging there. They picked him up, made a prisoner of him, and carried him off. They assembled together to kill him. “Let us throw him into the fire,” they said, but Rabbit laughed and replied, “Nothing can happen to me there. That is where I travel around.” “If that is the case we must kill him some other way,” they said, and after they had debated a long time concluded, “Let us tie a rock around his neck and throw him into the water,” but Rabbit laughed and called out, “I live all the time in water. Nothing can happen to me there.” “Well,” they said, “he will be hard to kill. How can we kill him?” After all had conferred for a while, they said, “I wonder what would become of him if we threw him into a brier patch?” At that Rabbit cried out loudly. “Now you have killed me,” he said. “Now we have killed him,” they replied. “If we had known that at first we would have had him killed already,” so they carried him to a brier thicket, Rabbit weeping unceasingly as he was dragged along. Then they threw him into the brier thicket with all their strength, and he fell down, got up, and ran off at once, whooping.

THE RABBIT AND THE FRENCHMAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dorsey, J. Owen. “Two Biloxi Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 48–49. Date: 1892 Original Source: Biloxi

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The South | The Rabbit and the Frenchman

National Origin: Native American

The following trickster tale was collected in central Louisiana from an elderly woman who was a “survivor of the Biloxi tribe.” The narrator told the tale in her native language, and the text was translated during performances by her daughter and son-in-law. The tale is an obvious borrowing; it bears striking resemblance to the Lapin and Bouqui tale, “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” (p. 49) as well as the tarbaby motif found in neighboring African American traditions. The substitution of “Frenchman” for Bouqui as the butt of Rabbit’s tricks likely signifies enduring Native American enmity toward the historical incursions of the French.

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he Rabbit and the Frenchman were two friends. The Rabbit aided the Frenchman, agreeing to work a piece of land on shares. The first season they planted potatoes. The Rabbit, having been told to select his share of the crop, chose the potato vines, and devoured them all. The next season they planted corn. This year the Rabbit said, “I will eat the roots.” So he pulled up all the corn by the roots, but he found nothing to satisfy his hunger. Then the Frenchman said, “Let us dig a well.” But the Rabbit did not wish to work any longer with his friend. Said he to the Frenchman, “If you wish to dig a well, I shall not help you.” “Oho,” said the Frenchman, “you shall not drink any of the water from the well.” “That does not matter,” replied the Rabbit, “I am accustomed to licking the dew from the ground.” The Frenchman, suspecting mischief, made a tarbaby, which he stood up close to the well. The Rabbit approached the well, carrying a long piece of cane and a tin bucket. On reaching the well he addressed the tarbaby, who remained silent. “Friend, what is the matter? Are you angry?” said the Rabbit. Still the tarbaby said nothing. So the Rabbit hit him with one forepaw, which stuck there. “Let me go or I will hit you on the other side,” exclaimed the Rabbit. And when he found that the tarbaby paid no attention to him, he hit him with his other forepaw, which stuck to the tarbaby. “I will kick you,” said the Rabbit. But when he kicked the tarbaby, the hind foot stuck. “I will kick you with the other

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foot,” said the Rabbit. And when he did so, that foot, too, stuck to the tarbaby. Then the Rabbit resembled a ball, because his feet were sticking to the tarbaby, and he could neither stand nor recline. Just at this time the Frenchman approached. He tied the legs of the Rabbit together, laid him down and scolded him. Then the Rabbit pretended to be in great fear of a brier patch. “As you are in such fear of a brier patch,” said the Frenchman, “I will throw you into one.” “Oh, no,” replied the Rabbit. “I will throw you into the brier patch,” responded the Frenchman. “I am much afraid of it,” said the Rabbit. “As you are in such dread of it,” said the Frenchman, “I will throw you into it.” So he seized the Rabbit, and threw him into the brier patch. The Rabbit fell at some distance from the Frenchman. But instead of being injured, he sprang up and ran off laughing at the trick which he had played on the Frenchman.

MR. DEER’S MY RIDING HORSE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Johnston, Mrs. William Preston. “Two Negro Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 195–96. Date: 1896 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: African American

The following tale of Rabbit feigning illness in order to humiliate a gullible romantic rival enjoys wide distribution throughout the South. In some versions, Fox or an animal other than Deer becomes Rabbit’s steed and, thus, the butt of his joke. The tale is not limited to African American communities; extensive borrowing occurs between the various ethnic groups inhabiting the region. For example, see the Louisiana French tale of Lapin and Bouqui, “On Horseback” (p. 61) for a variant of “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse” and the narrative “Rabbit Rides Wolf” (p. 58) for the Native American take on the same plot. In all versions,

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The South | Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse

however, Rabbit exploits a personality trait, such as Deer’s kind heart, to defeat a romantic rival and, in the process, humiliate him.

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ell, once upon a time, when Mr. Rabbit was young and frisky, he went a courting Miss Fox, who lived way far back in the thick woods. Mr. Fox an’ his family was very skeery, an’ they very seldom come outer the wood ’cept for a little walk in the clearin’ near the big house, sometimes when the moon shine bright; so they did n’ know many people ’sides Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Deer. Mr. Deer he had his eyes set on Miss Fox, too. But he didn’t suspicion Mr. Rabbit was a lookin’ that way, but kep’ on being jus’ as friendly with Mr. Rabbit as he ever been. One day Mr. Rabbit call on Miss Fox, and wile they was talkin’, Miss Fox she tells him what a fine gentleman she thinks Mr. Deer is. Mr. Rabbit jes threw back his head and he laugh and he laugh. “What you laughing ’bout?” Miss Fox says; and Mr. Rabbit he jes laugh on an’ won’t tell her, an’ Miss Fox she jes kept’ on pestering Mr. Rabbit to tell her what he’s laughing ’bout, an’ at las’ Mr. Rabbit stop laughing an’ say, “Miss Fox, you bear me witness I didn’t want to tell you, but you jes made me. Miss Fox, you call Mr. Deer a fine gentleman; Miss Fox, Mr. Deer is my riding horse!” Miss Fox she nearly fell over in a faintin’ fit, and she say she don’t believe it, and she will not till Mr. Rabbit give her the proof. An’ Mr. Rabbit he says, “Will you believe it if you sees me riding pass yo’ door?” and Miss Fox says she will, and she won’t have nothin’ to do with Mr. Deer if the story is true. Now, Mr. Rabbit is been fixing up a plan for some time to git Mr. Deer outer his way; so he says good evenin’ to Miss Fox, and clips it off to Mr. Deer’s house, and Mr. Rabbit he so friendly with Mr. Deer he don’t suspec’ nothin’. Presently Mr. Rabbit jes fall over double in his chair and groan and moan, and Mr. Deer he says, “What’s the matter, Mr. Rabbit, is you sick?” But Mr. Rabbit he jes groan; then Mr. Rabbit fall off the cheer and roll on the floor, and Mr. Deer says, “What ails you, Mr. Rabbit, is you sick?” And Mr. Rabbit he jes groans out, “Oh, Mr. Deer, I’m dying; take me home, take me home.” An’ Mr. Deer he’s mighty kindhearted, and he says, “Get up on my back, and I’ll tote you home”; but Mr. Rabbit says, “Oh, Mr. Deer, I’m so sick, I can’t set on your back ’less you put a saddle on.” So Mr. Deer put on a saddle.

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Mr. Rabbit says, “can’t steady myself ’less you put my feets in the stirrups.” So he put his feets in the stirrups. “Oh, Mr. Deer, I can’t hold on ’less you put on a bridle.” So he put on a bridle. “Oh, Mr. Deer, I don’t feel all right ’less I had a whip in my hand.” So Mr. Deer puts the whip in his hand. “Now I’m ready, Mr. Deer,” says Mr. Rabbit, “but go mighty easy, for I’m likely to die any minute. Please take the shortcut through the wood, Mr. Deer, so I kin get home soon.” So Mr. Deer took the short cut, an’ forgot that it took him pass Miss Fox’s house. Jes as he ’membered it, an’ was ’bout to turn back, Mr. Rabbit, who had slipped a pair of spurs on unbeknownst to him, stuck ’em into his sides, and at the same time laid the whip on so that po’ Mr. Deer was crazy with the pain, and ran as fas’ as his legs could carry him right by where Miss Fox was standin’ on the gallery, and Mr. Rabbit a standin’ up in his stirrups and hollerin’, “Didn’t I tell you Mr. Deer was my riding horse!” But after a while Miss Fox she found out ’bout Mr. Rabbit’s trick on Mr. Deer, and she wouldn’t have nothin’ more to do with him.

RABBIT RIDES WOLF Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 64–66 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Creek National Origin: Native American

This is another impressive example of the ways in which neighboring cultures influence one another’s folktale repertoires. This tale appears in Cajun tradition as “On Horseback” (p. 61) and in the African American corpus as “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse” (p. 56). Such cross-fertilization should come as no surprise; the Creek Confederacy had extensive contact, including intermarriage, with the French from at least the early

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The South | Rabbit Rides Wolf

eighteenth century and with Africans and African Americans since the beginning of the Southern slave trade. Compared to Lapin in “On Horseback,” the Rabbit’s motivation for humiliating Wolf in this narrative and Brer Rabbit’s similar treatment of Deer in “Brer Rabbit Deer” are far more reasonable. Notice the similarities between the dead horse motif here and in “The Fox and the Wolf” (p. 76).

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ome girls lived not far from Rabbit and Wolf, and Rabbit thought he would like to visit them. So one time he called upon Wolf and said, “Let us go visiting.” Wolf said, “All right,” and they started off. When they got to the place the girls told them to sit down and they took a great liking to Wolf, who had a good time with them while Rabbit had to sit by and look on. Of course he was not pleased at this turn of affairs and said presently, “We had better be going back.” But Wolf replied, “Let us wait a while longer,” and they remained until it was late. Before they left Rabbit got a chance to speak to one of the girls so that Wolf would not overhear and he said, “The one you are having so much sport with is my old horse.” “I think you are lying,” said the girl. “I am not. You shall see me ride him up here to-morrow.” “If we see you ride him up we’ll believe you.” When they started off the girls said, “Well, call again.” Wolf was anxious to do so and early next morning be called upon Rabbit, whose house was much nearer, and said, “Are we going?” “I was sick all night,” Rabbit answered, “and I hardly feel able to go.” Wolf urged him, but he said at first that be really wasn’t able to. Finally, however, he said, “If you will let me ride you I might go along just for company.” So Wolf agreed to carry him astride of his back. But then Rabbit said, “I would like to put a saddle on you so as to brace myself,” and Wolf agreed to it. “I believe it would be better,” added Rabbit, “if I should bridle you.” Wolf did not like this idea but Rabbit said, “Then I could hold on better and manage to get there,” so Wolf finally consented to be bridled. Finally Rabbit wanted to put on spurs. Wolf replied, “I am too ticklish,” but Rabbit said, “I will not spur you with them. I will hold them away from you but it would be nicer to have them on,” so Wolf finally agreed, saying only, “I am very ticklish; you must not spur me.” “When we get near the house,” said Rabbit, “we will take everything off of you and walk the rest of the way.” So Rabbit and Wolf started on, but when they were nearly in sight of the house Rabbit plunged the spurs into Wolf and before he knew it they had passed right by the house. Then Rabbit said, “They have seen you now. I will tie you

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here and go up to see them and come back after a while and let you go.” So Rabbit went to the house and said to the girls, “You all saw it, did you not?” “Yes,” they answered, and he sat down and had a good time with them. After a while Rabbit thought he ought to let Wolf go and started back to the place where he was fastened. He knew that Wolf was angry with him and thought up a way by which he could loose him with safety to himself. First he found a thin hollow log which he beat upon as if it were a drum. Then he ran up to Wolf as fast as he could go and cried out, “Do you know they are hunting for you? You heard the drum just now. The soldiers are after you.” Wolf was very much frightened and said “Let me go.” Rabbit was purposely a little slow in untying him and he had barely gotten him freed when Wolf broke away and went off as fast as he could run. Then Rabbit returned to the house and remained there as if he were already a married man. Near this house was a large peach orchard and one day Rabbit said to the girls, “I will shake the peaches off for you.” So they all went to the orchard together and he climbed up into a tree to shake the peaches off. While he was there Wolf came toward them and called out, “Old fellow, I am not going to let you alone.” By that time he was almost under the tree. Then Rabbit shouted out loud as if to people at a distance, “Here is that fellow for whom you are always hunting,” and Wolf ran away again. Some time after this, while Rabbit was lying close under a tree bent over near the ground, he saw Wolf coming. Then he stood up with the tree extended over his shoulder as if he were trying to hold it up. When Wolf saw him he said, “I have you now.” Rabbit, however, called out, “They told me to hold this tree up all day with the great power I have and for it they would give me four hogs. I don’t like hog meat but you do, so you might get it if you take my place.” Wolf’s greed was excited by this and he was willing to hold up the tree. Then Rabbit said, “If you yield only a little it will give way, so you must hold it tight.” And he ran off. Wolf stood under the tree so long that finally he felt he could stand it no longer and he jumped away quickly so that it would not fall upon him. Then he saw that it was a growing tree rooted in the earth. “That Rabbit is the biggest liar,” he exclaimed, “if I can catch him I will certainly fix him.” After that Wolf hunted about for Rabbit once more and finally came upon him in a nice grassy place. He was about to spring upon him when Rabbit said, “My friend, don’t punish me. I have food for you. There is a horse lying out yonder.” Wolf’s appetite was again moved at the prospect and he decided to go along. Then Rabbit said, “It is pretty close to a house, therefore it would be well for me to tie your tail to the horse’s tail so that you can drag it off to a place where you can feast at leisure.” So Rabbit tied the two tails together. But the

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The South | On Horseback

horse was only asleep, not dead, as Wolf supposed, and Rabbit ran around to its head and kicked it. At once the horse jumped up and was so frightened that it kicked and kicked until it kicked Wolf to death.

ON HORSEBACK Tradition Bearer: Aneus Guerin Source: Claudel, Calvin. “Louisiana Tales of Jean Sot and Boqui and Lapin.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 8 (1944): 294–95. Date: 1931 Original Source: Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana. Recorded by Lafayette Jarreau, “Creole Folklore of Pointe Coupee Parish.” MA thesis, Louisiana State University, 1931. National Origin: Cajun

This tale, in which Lapin chooses to humiliate Bouqui in front of some female friends, is very similar to “Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse” (p. 307). However, unlike Rabbit, whose motive is to eliminate a romantic competitor, Lapin demonstrates no motive beyond the trickster’s standard desire to stir up trouble.

O

ne day Comrade Lapin and Comrade Bouqui planned to go see some girls together. Bouqui was to come to meet Lapin at his house at four o’clock Sunday afternoon, and they would go together. At four o’clock Bouqui arrived. “Well now, let’s go,” he called to Lapin. “I don’t think I can go,” replied Lapin. “I was coming down my steps yesterday, and I fell down. I really believe I broke my foot, because I can’t walk.” “Can’t you walk just a little bit?” asked Bouqui very disappointedly. “The only way I can go with you is if you carry me,” suggested Lapin. “I’ll carry you until we get to the big-gate,” agreed Bouqui. “But I’ll put you down there, and you will have to walk the rest of the way, because the girls will laugh at me if they see that you ride me like a horse.”

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Lapin put on a pair of spurs and mounted Bouqui. When they got to the biggate, Lapin got down but could not make a single step, his foot hurt him so much. “I can’t make it,” complained Lapin. “If you want me to go all the way, you will be obliged to carry me a little farther.” “Oh well! Get upon my back again,” agreed Bouqui. Bouqui did not want to leave his friend there and would do anything to help him. When they passed the house, the girls were all upon the gallery. Seeing Lapin seated upon Bouqui, they wanted to laugh, but they did not laugh, because they did not want to hurt Bouqui’s feelings. Poor Bouqui placed himself next to the steps, and Lapin bounded upon the gallery, completely well. Lapin then turned toward the girls, saying: “Didn’t I always tell you Bouqui was my horse!” The girls could no longer withhold themselves. They almost burst with laughter at Bouqui, right in front of him. He was so ashamed he was all miserable. So he excused himself right away and left.

INCRIMINATING THE OTHER FELLOW Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 366–67. Date: 1919 Original Source: South Carolina National Origin: African American

Wolf attempts to trick his rival Rabbit into a false confession by leading him into singing a chorus that incriminates him. As usual in this pairing, Rabbit triumphs over Wolf and his clumsy scheme.

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iss Kingdeer of Coon Swamp had two da’ghters, and Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit was in love with the young Miss Kingdeer. Young Miss Kingdeer allowed she loved Brer Rabbit better than she did Brer Wolf.

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The South | Incriminating the Other Fellow

Brer Wolf he got jealous, and say he’s goin’ to git even with Brer Rabbit by killing Miss Kingdeer’s goat, cause she say anybody who’d kill that goat, her father would horn ’im. So Brer Rabbit and Brer Wolf went to call on Miss Kingdeer; and when dey was goin’ back home, Brer Wolf said to Brer Rabbit, “Ye must excuse me for not going home all de way wid you, ’cause I promised to call on Brer ’Possum wife, who is mighty sick.” Brer Rabbit allowed, “I’d go along wid you, but I’m mighty feeble myself tonight.” So Brer Wolf left Brer Rabbit, an’ went back in the field an’ kill Miss Kingdeer’s goat. Next day he went callin’ on Miss Kingdeer to see what dey’d say, like he know nothin’ about it. “Good-mornin’, Miss Kingdeer!” says Brer Wolf, “how’s your ma?” “She’s between de gate-posts an’ de hinges dis mornin’, Brer Wolf, how is you?” “Well, I’m kind of hucckumso.” “Brer Wolf, has you heard about our goat? Someone killed her last night.” Brer Wolf he made out he’s so ’stonished. “Miss Kingdeer, I think I know who killed dat dere goat, nobody but Brer Rabbit, ’cause I saw him amblin’ across de field after he left de house last night!” Miss Kingdeer is very sorry ’cause she loved Brer Rabbit an’ didn’t want Brer Rabbit killed. “I don’t t’ink he’d do dat, ’cause he done loved dat goat,” says she. “Well, I’ll make him tell you himself dat he killed dat goat.” An’ he went, an’ he went ’round to Brer Rabbit’s house. “Mornin’, Brer Rabbit! How is you today?” “Kinder poorly, Brer Wolf, kinder poorly. How’s you?” “Well, I’m between de hawk an’ de break-down, ain’t much myself today. Brer Rabbit, I got a scheme on foot; I thought we’d serenade de girls tonight. I done told dem what a good bass-singer you is; we’ll practice de song. I’ll play de fiddle, and den we’ll go under de window an’ sing, an’ den de ladies’ll come out an’ invite us in!” Brer Rabbit agreed, an’ same night dey went up to Miss Kingdeer’s house an’ stood under de window. Brer Wolf chumin de fiddle— plum, plum, plum! Chan, chan, chan! Brer Rab-bit is a trick-y man, and ev-ery-bod-y know. Did you kill Miss King-deer’s goat and ev-ery-bod-y know? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and ev-ery-bod-y know. Chorus.

Rio Brer Rab-bit, Pop-eyed rab-bit, Buck-eye rab-bit.

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“Ladies,” said Brer Wolf, “I told you Brer Rabbit killed Miss Kingdeer’s goat, ’cause he done tell you.” Den Brer Rabbit threw up his hands, an’ said, “Brer Wolf got this game up on me, ’cause he’s jealous!” Miss Kingdeer says she didn’t believe Brer Rabbit killed de goat, and Brer Wolf is de fox dat is de finder, an’ he’s done killed dat goat, an’ she called for her pa. Den Brer Wolf licked out an’ tore down de road at such a rate, you couldn’t see him running for de sand. Miss Kingdeer an’ Brer Rabbit got so tickled, dey had to hold their sides to keep from poppin’. Brer Wolf is runnin’ yet from Kingdeer.

PLAYING GODFATHER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 237–38. Date: 1927 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

This tale type—AT 15 or “Theft of Butter (Honey) by Playing Godfather”—is distributed widely throughout the South and the Caribbean. For example, compare this tale to “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” (p. 49) and “Playing Mourner” (p. 240). Typically the trickster, Rabbit, shifts the blame for the theft onto one of the dupes. The slow-witted Possum also appears as Rabbit’s victim in “How Brer Fox Dream He Eat Brer ’Possum” (p. 83) and “When Brer ’Possum Attend Miss Fox’s House-Party” (p. 91).

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abbit an’ Fox make a proposition once to start farmin’. Dey bought lot of groceries for the year, butter, coffee, everything you could mention. So the butter was the most important. So they all went out in the field to work.

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The South | Playing Godfather

Rabbit studied a plan to leave Possum an’ Fox in the field an’ make believe that someone was callin’ him away. So he let on someone callin’ him, “Yoo-hooyoo-hoo-yoo-hoo!” So Fox an’ Possum said, “What’s that?” Rabbit said, “Aw, I can’t work here for bein’ bothered by these people. I’m goin’ this time but I won’t go no more.” So Rabbit goes to the house an’ sees the bucket o’ butter. He ate some of the butter. Pretty soon he come back. Pretty soon somebody callin’, “Yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo!” So they all said, “What’s the matter, Brother Rabbit?” Rabbit said, “Aw, they want me to christen another baby. These people are botherin’ me too much. I’m not goin’.” So they all said, “You better go ahead. Hurry on.” So he went an’ got another stomach full o’ butter. So when he come back they said, “Well, what did you name the baby?” He said, “Just begun.” So pretty soon they heard somebody callin’, “Yoohoo-yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo.” So they all said, “What’s the matter, Brother Rabbit?” Rabbit said, “Aw, those people just won’t let me alone. They want me to christen another child. I’m not goin’ this time, tho’, deed I’m not.” But they all said, “You better go ahead.” So he went an’ got some more butter. So he come back an’ they asked him what name the baby had. He said, “Pretty Well On The Way.” He comes back an’ works a little while an’ somebody yells, “Yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo.” They all said, “What’s that?” So Rabbit said, “Aw, it’s them same people want me to come christen another baby. I’m not goin’, I tell you.” They said, “You better go ahead.” So he went off an’ eat some more butter. When he come back they asked him what the baby’s name was. He said, “About Quarter Gone.” So he went on workin’ some more an’ somebody yelled, “Yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo.” They said, “What’s that?” He said, “It’s those same people again. I tell you I just won’t go an’ christen any more of their children.” But they said, “You better go on ahead.” So he went off an’ eat some more of the butter. When he returned they asked him what was the child’s name. He said, “Half Gone.” So he went on back to work. This time somebody yelled, “Yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo-yoo-hoo.” So they all said, “What’s that?” He said, “Doggone the luck, you know that’s rotten. A fellow can’t work here for those people callin’ on you to christen their children.”

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So they all said, “You better go on ahead.” He went on an’ eat some more of the butter. When he come back he said, “Well I christened another child.” They said, “What you name him?” He said, “Quarter Left.” So he come on back, work awhile, an’ pretty soon somebody cry, “Heh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h.” Rabbit say, “Doggone the luck. I ain’t goin’ this time. By God they want to run a fellow to death.” So they all said, “You better go on ahead.” So he went this time an’ eat all the butter. When he come back they said, “What happened this time?” He said, “I had another child to christen.” They said, “What did you name him?” He said “All Gone.” Well about the middle o’ June they was gonna open the keg of butter. The crops were half grown. So when they got there the butter was all gone. They all said, “Who stole the butter?” Rabbit didn’t know; Fox didn’t know; Possum didn’t know. So Rabbit say, “I tell you, Possum, he been layin’ around dat house all time. I believe he must o’ done it.” So he said, “Let’s build a big fire. Then all three of us will lay aroun’ the fire, an’ whoever et the butter the grease will come out o’ his stomach.” So they made a big fire an’ everybody went to sleep but Rabbit. So he peeped. Everybody sound asleep. So Rabbit say, “All right, I got him now.” So he took his tail an’ greased it an’ his belly right good. He oiled Fox up too. So pretty soon Fox woke up. He spied Possum an’ cried, “Dah, dah, I tot’ you, Possum done it!” Possum woke up an’ looked aroun’. He say, “Hey there, Fox, you had some too; look at your belly.” Fox made for Rabbit but Rabbit got away. So Fox struck Possum a lick an’ Possum went through the blaze of fire. That’s why his tail is bare of hair today.

HOW BRER RABBIT PRACTICE MEDICINE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Tales of the Rabbit from Georgia Negroes.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 108–9. Date: 1899 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

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The South | How Brer Rabbit Practice Medicine

At its heart, the following tale of Brer Rabbit contains messages concerning why Rabbit (and perhaps all con men, for that matter) can make his way so successfully in society. Poor judgment leads Brer Wolf to take him on as a partner despite his “bad name for a partner.” Then, gullibility and avarice set Wolf up for the “fool’s bargain” Rabbit proposes. When Brer Rabbit’s ploy is discovered and a jury is being selected to decide the disposition of the money from their venture, Sheriff Coon is given the job of finding bigger fools than the plaintiff and defendant to sit on the jury. When Coon is successful, the judge, plaintiff, jury, and spectators become so caught up in the courtroom drama that Rabbit is able to win the day by keeping his wits about him and putting his ethics on hold. Compare this to “Playing Godfather” (p. 64).

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le Brer Rabbit had a bad name for a partner, but one time he get Mr. Wolf to work a crop on shares with him, and they have a ’greement writ out on paper, how in the harvest they goin’ to divide half and half. Mr. Rabbit know Ole Mr. Wolf mighty good hand in the field, and sure to make a good crop. But when Ole Brer Rabbit set in to work, he get mighty tired, and the corn rows, they look so mighty long, and he ’gin to lag behind and work he brain. Presen’ly he jump to the work, and make he hoe cut the air, and soon catch up with Mr. Wolf, and he open the subject of the education in medicine, and he tell how he am a reg’lar doctor, and got his ’plomy in a frame to home, but he say he don’t know how all the patients goin’ get on now he turn over the farming, and Ole Mr. Wolf ask how much money he get for he doctoring, and when he hear so much, he tell Mr. Rabbit to go when he have a call, and put by the money, and in the fall put in the crop money and then divide. So that night Mr. Rabbit, he instruct his children how they got for to run and call him frequent, and how they got to tell Mr. Wolf they wants the doctor. And sure ’nough, Mr. Rabbit ain’t more’n in the front row next day, when here come little Rab all out of breath and say, “Somebody send in great ’stress for the doctor.” Mr. Rabbit make out like he can’t go and leave Mr. Wolf to do all the work, but Mr. Wolf studying ’bout that big fee Brer Rabbit goin’ turn in to the company, and he tell him, “Go ’long, he can get on with the work.” So Mr. Rabbit clips off in great haste, and he just go down on the edge of the woods, and what you ’spect he do? Well, sir, he just stretch hisself out in the

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shade of a swamp maple and take a nap, while Ole Mr. Wolf was working in the corn rows in the hot sun. When Mr. Rabbit sleep he nap out, he set up and rub he eyes, then he mosey off down by the spring for a drink, then he come running and puffing like he been running a mile, and tell Mr. Wolf what a mighty sick patient he got, and make out like he that wore out he can’t more’n move the hoe. Well, when they come back from dinner, Mr. Rabbit, he strike and make he hoe fly, but directly here come little Rab for the doctor, and Ole Mr. Rabbit, he take hisself off for ’nother nap, and matters goes on just dis here way all summer. Ole Mr. Wolf, he have to do all the work, but he comfort himself with the reflection, that he have half them big fees what Brer Rabbit turning in to the company money. Well, when the fodder done pulled, and all the crop done sold, and they go for to count the money, Mr. Wolf ask Brer Rabbit where the doctor’s fees what he goin’ turn in. Brer Rabbit say they all such slow pay, he can’t collect it. Then they fell out, and Mr. Wolf that mad, he say he goin’ eat Brer Rabbit right there, and make an end of he tricks. But Mr. Rabbit beg that they take the trouble up to the court-house to Judge Bar. So they mosey off to the court-house, and the old judge say it were a jury case, and he send Sheriff Coon out to fetch the jurymans, and he say, “Don’ you fetch no mans here, ’cepter they be more fool than the parties in the case.” But Sheriff Coon ’low he don’ know where he goin’ find any man what’s more fool than Brer Wolf’s in dis here case, but he take out down the county, and by and by he seed a man rolling a wheelbarrow what ain’t got nothing in it round the house and round the house, and he ask him what he doing that for? And he say, he trying to wheel some sunshine in the house. Sheriff Coon say, “You is the man I wants to come with me and sot on the jury.” They go ’long, and directly they see a man pulling a long rope up a tall tree that stand ’longside a house; they ask him what he goin’ do? He say he goin’ to haul a bull up on top of the house to eat the moss off the roof, and Sheriff Coon say, “I’ll be bound you is my man for the jury, and you must go long with we all to the court.” So they take their way back to the court-house, then they have a great time taking evidence and argufying. Ole Brer Wolf, he set up there, and ’sider every word of the evidence, but Ole Brer Rabbit he lean back and shut he eye, and work he brain on he own account. He settin’ right close to the door; when the lawyer done get everybody worked up so they take no noticement, Brer Rabbit just slip softly out the back door, and he creep ’round the side of the cabin back to where Ole Judge Bar set wid de bag of money on the floor, and what you ’spect? When they all talking,

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The South | When Brer Wolf Have His Corn Shucking

Ole Brer Rabbit just slide he hand in the crack, and softly slip out the bag of money, and take out home, and leave the case in the care of the court. That just like Ole man Rabbit.

WHEN BRER WOLF HAVE HIS CORN SHUCKING Tradition Bearer: Source: Backus, Emma M. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 21–22. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

“When Brer Wolf Have His Corn Shucking” details another of Brer Rabbit’s clever turns to gain the upper hand over his romantic rivals. In this case, Brer Rabbit must win a contest to remove the most shucks from fresh corn in an allotted time. Aware of his limitations (aversion to work) and his advantages (charm and dancing ability), he connives to confuse the outcome of the shucking contest and to put the decision in the hands of Miss Wolf, whose affections he courts while his competitors devote themselves to the original, but ultimately irrelevant, shucking contest.

B

rer Wolf he make a powerful crop of corn one year, and he turn it over in his mind how he going to get all that corn shucked, cause Brer Wolf mighty unpopular man with his neighbors, and when Brer Wolf have a corn shucking the creeters don’t turn out, like they do when Sis Coon have a corn shucking. But Brer Wolf he have a powerful handsome daughter on the carpet. All the chaps about the county has their heads set to step up to Brer Wolf’s daughter. So Brer Wolf he send out word how the chap what shucks the most corn at his shucking shall have his handsome daughter.

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Well, the chaps they come from the fur end of Columbia County, and some come over from Richmond County, and they set to work, and they make the shucks fly, and each chap have a pile to hisself. Brer Coon he mighty set on Brer Wolf’s daughter, and Brer Coon he know hisself are powerful likely corn shucker, and Brer Coon he ’low to hisself how he have a right smart chance to get the gal. Brer Fox his head done plum turned when Miss Wolf roll her handsome eyes at hisself; and so Brer Fox he get a pile to hisself and fall to work. Now old Brer Rabbit his heart set on the gal, but Brer Rabbit he are a mighty poor corn shucker. Brer Rabbit he jest naturally know he don’ stand no chance shucking a pile of corn and making time against Brer Coon. So Brer Rabbit he don’t waste hisself, Brer Rabbit don’t, but Brer Rabbit he take his hat off and he go up to Brer Wolf, and he make his bow, and he ask Brer Wolf, if he learn his daughter to dance, can he have her? But Brer Wolf he say, “What I said I said.” Well, Brer Rabbit he feel terrible put down, but he fall to, and he act most survigorous [to survive with vigor]. He sing and he dance, and he dance and he sing, and he amuse the company most ’greeable like; and he sing before the gals, and he dance before the gals, and he show them the new step and the new shuffle, Brer Rabbit do. Brer Coon he just turn his eye on Brer Rabbit ’casionly, but he don’t pay no ’tention to his acting and frolicking. Brer Coon he just make time with his corn shucking, ’til Brer Coon’s pile it make three times the pile of the other chaps. When it come time for Brer Wolf to come round and count his piles, Brer Rabbit he set down long side Brer Coon, and he fall to shucking corn to beat all. When Brer Wolf come round, Brer Rabbit he certainly do make the shucks fly powerful, ’cause the old rascal just been cutting up and acting all the evening, and he ain’t tired like the other chaps. When Brer Wolf see the great pile so much bigger than what all the other chaps got, Brer Wolf he say, “What for both you chaps shuck on one pile?” Brer Coon he ’low that all his pile. He ’low, Brer Coon do, how Brer Rabbit been cutting up and frolicking all the evening, and he just now come and set down ’longside his pile. Brer Rabbit he say he swear and kiss the book, this my pile. Brer Coon he just been frolickin’ and going on all the evening to beat all; he make us laugh nigh ’bout fit to kill ourselves, while I done work my hands plum to the bone. Now he set hisself down here and say it his pile. Brer Wolf he say he leave it out to the company. But the chaps they don’t want Brer Rabbit to have the gal, and they don’t want Brer Coon to have the gal, so they won’t take sides; they ’low they been working so powerful hard, they

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The South | The Sack of Peas and the Mule

don’t take noticement of Brer Coon or Brer Rabbit. Then Brer Wolf he ’low he leave it out to the gals. Now. Miss Wolf she been favoring Brer Rabbit all the evening. Brer Rabbit dancing and singing plum turned Miss Wolf’s head, so Miss Wolf she say, “It most surely are Brer Rabbit’s pile.” Miss Wolf she say she “plum ’stonished how Brer Coon can story so.” Brer Rabbit he take the gal and go off home clipity, clipity. Poor old Brer Coon he take hisself off home, he so tired he can scarcely hold hisself together.

THE SACK OF PEAS AND THE MULE Tradition Bearer: Aneus Guerin Source: Claudel, Calvin. “Louisiana Tales of Jean Sot and Boqui and Lapin.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 8 (1944): 292–94. Date: 1931 Original Source: Pointe Coupee Parish, Louisiana. Recorded by Lafayette Jarreau, “Creole Folklore of Pointe Coupee Parish.” MA thesis, Louisiana State University, 1931. National Origin: Cajun

In the following narrative, Lapin takes advantage of Bouqui’s appetite in order to acquire a free mule by very indirect means. Considering Bouqui easier prey than the farmer who owns the mule he covets, Lapin manipulates his victim into trading his beautiful wife for the mule and a sack of peas to start a vegetable farm. Much of the tale hangs on Bouqui’s poor powers of observation. He does not appreciate how beautiful his wife is until he has initiated the trade and alienated her. He is unable to recognize the dearly bought mule after its tail has been bobbed, and at last, he is deceived into seeing a drowning mule in a bundle of floating hair.

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ne day Bouqui went to visit Lapin. While at the dinner table Bouqui noticed what fine vegetables Lapin’s wife served—squash, pumpkin and fine celery salad.

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“What fine food you have, Lapin!” remarked Bouqui. “I wish I had such wonderful vegetables for my household.” “I raise them on my farm,” replied Lapin. “Why don’t you start a vegetable farm yourself and farm the way I do?” “That’s a good idea,” ventured Bouqui. “But I have no mule or seed to start such a farm.” After they had all eaten a while, Lapin said to Bouqui: “I know just the thing for you, Bouqui. A farmer nearby has a mule and a sack of peas. You can probably make a bargain with him to get them. You can use the peas to start a crop.” “But what can I offer him, Lapin?” questioned Bouqui. “I have no money. My wife is all I’ve got.” “I’ll tell you what,” proposed Lapin. “Trade your wife for his mule and the peas.... I’m sure he’ll accept. I’ll talk to him and fix it up for you.... Tomorrow I’ll come to see you.” After Bouqui had returned home, he pondered over Lapin’s proposition. Finally he said to his wife, who was indeed very pretty: “My wife, I have been thinking about swapping you for a mule and a sack of peas. We can’t live in this poverty. So I really need a mule more than I need you.” Next day Bouqui heard Lapin knock at the door. “I have brought the mule and sack of peas,” explained Lapin. “All you have to do now is get your wife over to the farmer’s place. He has agreed to the bargain.” At first Bouqui was reluctant, for he had noticed how his wife was pretty, and he really wanted to keep her. However, his wife came up just then with her clothes all bundled and packed ready to leave and said: “No, Bouqui, I shall go.... You were stupid enough to want to trade me for a mule and a sack of peas. So I’m going to leave you now for the farmer.... Goodbye.” This settled the bargain. Bouqui’s wife left, carrying her bundle. Bouqui kept the mule and the sack of peas, and Lapin went home. Now it happened that Lapin really wanted the mule for himself. So he began to devise a trick to get the mule away from Bouqui. That night he went to Bouqui’s barn, unlocked the door and started to lead the mule to his own place. While on his way home, he clipped off the end of the mule’s tail and threw it into a pond nearby, where there was a very deep hole. Next day Bouqui came to Lapin’s house and knocked at the door. “Lapin,” began Bouqui, “someone must have stolen my mule. Have you seen him?” “Why no,” replied Lapin.

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The South | The Irishman and the Pumpkin

Just then Bouqui noticed his mule in Lapin’s barn, and he exclaimed: “That looks very much like my mule!” “Of course not,” added Lapin. “That mule has a bobbed tail. Your mule has a long tail.” That’s true enough,” answered Bouqui, shaking his head, however, in a puzzled fashion. “I’ll go help you to look for your mule, Bouqui,” offered Lapin, feigning sympathy. So the two started off together. Finally Lapin reached the pond and exclaimed: “There! Your mule slipped into the deep hole of the pond. I see his tail sticking out of the water.” Lapin walked out over the water on a fallen tree to the place where the piece of tail was floating. He reached down and pulled and pulled on the tail, making out as if he was trying to pull up the mule on the other end of the tail. Finally he flew backwards out of the water, holding the tail in his hands. “You see, Bouqui,” explained Lapin. “Your mule fell in here and drowned. I pulled so hard, his tail came off.... It’s no use; he is lost under the water.” “Yes, that’s too bad,” replied Bouqui, as he left with a look of despair.

THE IRISHMAN AND THE PUMPKIN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: “The Irishman and the Pumpkin.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 226. Date: 1899 Original Source: Southern Workman, May 1899. National Origin: African American

The following ethnic joke, which casts “the Irishman” in the role of numskull, is representative of the tales about a character whose actions are typified by “rustic simplicity.” Such tales comprised a significant segment of the African American folktale corpus in the nineteenth century. This particular tale (AT 1319, “Pumpkin Sold as an Ass’s Egg”) appears in a number of variants throughout the American South.

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nce there was a man driving along the road with a pair of mules and a load of pumpkins, when an Irishman stopped him and wanted to know what those things were that he had in his cart. The man replied they were mule’s eggs, and told the Irishman that, if he would put one on the south side of a hill and sit on it, it would hatch out a mule. So the Irishman bought one, and carried it up on the south side of a hill and sat down on it and soon went to sleep. Of course he fell off, and the pumpkin went rolling over and over down the hill and into the brush; out jumped a rabbit and went running off. “Koop, colie! Koop, colie! Here’s your mammy,” called the Irishman, but the rabbit wouldn’t stop. So the Irishman went back to the other man and said he wanted another mule’s egg; the first one hatched into a mighty fine colt, but it ran so fast he couldn’t catch it, and he would like to buy another.

THE SEA TICK AND THE IRISHMAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: “The Sea Tick and the Irishman.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 226. Date: 1899 Original Source: Southern Workman, May 1899. National Origin: African American

In this pair of ethnic jokes, the Irishman is cast again as the numskull figure. The first narrative depends on a pun: tick is both an insect and an onomapoetic rendering of the sound a timepiece makes. The second reveals the Irishman to be a “tenderfoot,” uninitiated to life outside the city and too primitive to recognize a pocket watch. As a result, he mistakes the shape and sounds of a watch and chain for a rattlesnake.

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n Irishman had heard of sea ticks but had never seen one, though he wanted to very much. Once he was walking along the beach, and found a watch, dropped by someone who had gone on ahead of him.

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The South | Shooting Grasshoppers

The Irishman had never seen a watch before; so when he heard it ticking he said, “Be Jasus, it’s a long time I’ve been hearing of sea ticks, and here I’ve got one.” Then he got a stick and beat the watch until it stopped ticking. * * * n the other version the Irishman is walking in the woods, and sees a watch with a long chain lying in his path. When he hears it ticking he says, “Faith, there’s a rattlesnake!” and gets a rock and smashes it all to pieces.

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SHOOTING GRASSHOPPERS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 267. Date: 1925 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

In this ethnic joke from the Irish Pat and Mike cycle, the ignorance of a “tenderfoot” with no knowledge of woodcraft or common devices is used to create the numskull image. Qualities of the tall tale appear in the first person conclusion of the joke and the treatment of the hindquarter of a grasshopper as game to be borne home over the hunter’s shoulder. Formulaic closing statements in which the narrator becomes part of the concluding action are not uncommon in traditional tales.

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at an’ Mike seen a man with a shotgun on his shoulder in the woods, an’ they asked him what was that he had. He told ’em dat was a gun.

So the Irishman said, “A gun, I think you say gun, didn’t you? I never have heard the name of a gun. What do you do with it?” So de man said, “I shoot game wid it.” The Irishman say, “Faith, Mike, what do you call game?”

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He said, “Birds or anything like that.” So de man shot a bird an’ showed what he was talking about, an’ den dey wanted to buy de gun. Pat said, “How much you want fo’ de gun?” De man said, “One hundred dollars.” So each one paid fifty dollars apiece an’ got it. So one taken de gun an’ de other one walk behind huntin’ the game. So dey got where some grasshoppers flew on his chest. Mike said, “I would shoot dem off,” but he beckoned to Pat wid his fingers. Mike said, “Pat, I’m gonna shoot.” So Pat shot an’ killed de grasshopper an’ Pat too. But he found de thigh of de grasshopper an’ hung him on his shoulder an’ left, an’ I left too.

THE FOX AND THE WOLF Tradition Bearer: Josiah Mikey (Ca`bi’tci, “clearing”) Source: Speck, Frank G. “European Tales among the Chickasaw Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 292. Date: 1913 Original Source: Chickasaw National Origin: Native American

Originally residing in the Mississippi Valley region, the Chickasaw were one of the Five Civilized Tribes discussed in the Introduction. The other four were the Cherokee, Choctaw, Creek, and Seminole. In the 1830s they were relocated to Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). The Chickasaw divided themselves into two moieties (“halves”), each composed of several exogamous clans. According to the narrator, this tale was “told by the Fox band to make fun of the wolf, and get the Wolf band to hurrah for the Fox band.” Although this explains what seems to be an unmotivated prank by Fox, the collector does not note the existence of either a Fox or Wolf band among the Chickasaw. A narrative collected by John R. Swanton, however, accounts for the origin of the Fox clan, and among the Cherokee, the Wolf clan is prominent. The fact that the tale was collected almost a century after relocation may

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The South | When Brer Rabbit Was Presidin’ Elder

account for such discrepancies. These stories that are set in a period when animals and men spoke the same language are regarded as a distinct genre, but interestingly this particular tale seems to be one of European origin (AT47A, “The Fox [Wolf] Hangs by his Teeth to the Horse’s Tail”) borrowed and adapted to suit the needs of the Chickasaw.

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he Fox and the Wolf were friends. One time they agreed to go hunting. The Fox went off in one direction, and so did the Wolf in another direction. The Fox traveled in a circle, and by and by ran across the Wolf. He asked him what luck he had had. The Wolf told him that he had met with a Dog, and asked the Dog why he liked to stay around human beings. Said the Dog, “I like them because they defend me.” Then he asked the Dog how they defended him. Said he, “Look behind that tree!” Now, there stood a man with a gun. Then the Wolf was terrified, ran off, and forgot about hunting until he met the Fox. Now, the Fox told what luck he had had. He had had good luck. He told the Wolf that he found a dead horse; but the horse was lying very near a road, and he was afraid to tackle him alone. He told the Wolf, however, that if he would help him carry the horse off, they would have a feast. The Wolf agreed, and they went to where the dead horse was. They stopped nearby. The Wolf wouldn’t believe the horse was dead. He told the Fox to bring him a handful of hair. The Fox brought him a handful of hair, and the Wolf smelled it. Said he, “Yes, he’s been dead quite a while.” So now the Wolf and Fox consulted how to carry the dead horse away. The Wolf allowed the Fox to tie his tail to the dead horse’s tail, and the Fox took hold of his head to pull him off. When the Wolf was securely tied to the horse’s tail, the Fox went over to his place near the head to get hold. Then suddenly he scratched the horse on the nose; and being, in truth, only asleep, the horse woke up, and dashed away, dragging the Wolf. Then the Fox shouted to the Wolf, “Hurrah for me, my friend!” but the Wolf cried in despair, “How can I hurrah, when I’m up in the air?”

WHEN BRER RABBIT WAS PRESIDIN’ ELDER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 20–21.

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In the African American folktale corpus, the stock character of “Preacher,” like “Rabbit,” appears as a figure who creates a façade to exploit gullible members of the community with the power of wit and words. This critique of “Preacher” puts Brer Rabbit in the role of selfappointed presiding elder (in this case, a traveling preacher). At first offended to the point of “churching” (evicting from membership) Brer Rabbit, the congregation demonstrates similar greed by finally taking such a “good paying member” back into the fold.

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ow Brer Rabbit he never get to be no sure ’nough presidin’ elder. Brer Rabbit he always been a meeting going man, but it all along [alongside] of his trifling ways that he never get no higher than a steward in the church. Brer Rabbit he never get to be a preacher, not to say a sure ’nough presidin’ elder. But one year Brer Rabbit he get powerful ambitious. He see all his neighbors building fine houses, and Brer Rabbit he say to hisself he going to have a fine house. So Brer Rabbit he study and he study how he going get the money for his house, and one day he say to Miss Rabbit, “You bresh up my meeting clothes.” So Miss Rabbit she get out Brer Rabbit’s meeting clothes, and bresh ’em up, and take a few stitches, and make the buttons fast. One Saturday Brer Rabbit he put on all his meeting clothes, and his church hat, and take his bible and hymn-book, and cut hisself a fine walking cane, and Brer Rabbit he start off. Brer Rabbit he take the circuit, and he preach in every church, and Brer Rabbit he say how he be the presidin’ elder of the district, and how he taking up a collection to build a new parsonage; and being as Brer Rabbit am a powerful preacher when he aim to try hisself, and preach in the spirit, the people they give with a free hand. Brer Rabbit he know what he doing, Brer Rabbit do, and he ride the circuit just before Christmas, and they tells how nigh ’bout the lastest one enduring the whole circuit done rob his Christmas for Brer Rabbit’s parsonage.

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The South | Jack the Giant Killer

Well, when they see Brer Rabbit’s fine house going up and hear how Brer Rabbit done used they alls money, well, there was a time, you may be sure, and they church Brer Rabbit; but Brer Rabbit he don’t trouble hisself, he just go on and build his fine house. But bless you, the last shingle ain’t laid before here they come begging Brer Rabbit to come back in the church, ’cause Brer Rabbit be a good paying member. So Brer Rabbit he go back in the church and he live in his fine house and hold his head powerful high, and what the people done say they done say, but you may be sure they don’ say a word when Brer Rabbit listen.

JACK THE GIANT KILLER Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 351–54. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

The following tale is an American version of the English märchen “Jack the Giant-Killer” (AT 328), in which the protagonist uses his wits to trick and eliminate a family of giants. In his European American incarnation, the trickster turns the tables on his more powerful adversaries not by his own powers of shape-shifting, conjuring, or other supernatural means but by sleight of hand, folk psychology, and, at last, lying. The American tale shares familiar motifs with its European variants, for example, “ogres duped into fighting each other” (K771), “squeezing the stone” (K62), and “trickster shouts to warn people” at a distance (K18.1).

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ne time they was a fine wealthy man lived way out in the forest. But he couldn’t have nothing, hogs and sheep and cows and such like because the giants killed ’em. So he went out and put him up an ad-ver-tisement (Put up a board or hew out the side of a tree and write what he want to.) So he

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put up one for someone to clear land. Little old boy Jack saw hit and he tramped and tramped until he got away out in the forest and he called, “Hello.” Old man hollered, “What’ll ye have?” Jack says, “I’ve come to clear yer land.” “All right,” says the man. It was Sunday evenin’ un they ’uz havin’ supper. The old lady says, “What’ll ye have for supper, Jack?” He said mush and milk. While they was makin’ the supper a preacher come in an’ they sit the mush away and they fried him a chicken and fixed some coffee and fixed a good supper. After supper Jack tol’ ’em he wanted a piece of leather so he made him a pouch, a sort of haversack thing to tie around his waist. Next morning they got up, asked Jack what he’d have for breakfast. Said, “Jest give me that cold mush and milk.” He’d take a spoonful and then poke one in a hole in his pouch. So he got it full. Then he said he was ready to go to work. So man says, now he says, “Jack, I don’t want you to back out, but I’m no a wantin’ any land cleared. I want to kill them giants over there and I’ll give a thousand dollars a head for them—some of ’em has two heads, and I’ll give you five hundred dollars down, and five hundred dollars when you come back.” Jack says, “Give me a tomihawk (that’s a thing like a hatchet ’cept it has two heads to hit. They used hit in olden times. Indians use to use hit to scalp with.) and I may be in for dinner, and hit may be night when I git in.” So they give him a tomihawk and he went over in the forest and climb a great long pine. Along about one o’clock he looked way down in the holler and saw a great old giant a comin’ up with two heads. So he says to himself, “Land I’m gone.” So the old giant come up, and he says, “What are you doin’ up there?” Jack says, “I’m a clearin’ timber.” Giant says, “Come down from there, you ain’t got sense enough to clear timber, you have to have an ax and chop down timber.” So Jack come down a little way. “Have ye had yer dinner?” says the Giant. Jack says, “I’ve had my dinner.” Giant says, “I’m sorry, I jest come to ask you to come down and take dinner with me. Come down, let’s wrestle and play a while.” Jack says, “All right, bedads, I’ll be down.” So Jack come down and down, till he got right on a limb a top the giant. He had no idea of comin’ down when he started, jest tryin’ to bluff the giant. Jack says to the giant, “I can do somethin’ you can’t do.” Giant says, “What is hit?” Jack says, “I can squeeze milk out of a flint rock.” Giant says, “Oh ye can’t do hit?” Jack says, “Yes I can, you hand me up one and I’ll show you.” So Giant handed him up one, and Jack gits hit right close to his little old pouch and squeezes milk out on the rock and drapped the milk on the giant. Giant says, “Hand me down that rock; if you can squeeze milk out of hit, I can.” Jack handed it down to the giant. The giant was so stout that when he put his

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The South | Jack the Giant Killer

hands to hit, he just crushed it into powder. Jack says, “I told you you couldn’t squeeze milk out of hit. I can do something else you can’t do.” “What’s that?” “I kin take a knife and cut my belly open and sew hit up again.” Giant says, “Oh you can’t neither.” “Yes, I can,” says Jack. “I’ll show you, hand me your knife.” So the giant hands him up his knife and Jack cut that pouch open and sewed hit up again. “Now didn’t I tell you I could?” Giant says, “Hand me down that knife,” and he just rip his belly open and fell over dead. So Jack crawled back down and took his tomihawk and cut off his head. And that evening late he come waggin’ him in a giant’s head. That jest tickled the forest man and he paid Jack a heap of money and says, “Now Jack, if you kin jest get the rest of ’em; they’s a whole family of ’em.” So next morning Jack took his tomihawk (or Tommy hatchet) and went over and climb the big old pine agin. So long about noon he looked down the holler and he saw two giants a comin’ each with two heads on. So they begin to get closter and closter. Jack climb down and took out down the holler and as he went he filled his shirt tail with rocks. After a while he come to a big old holler log and he climb in hit with his shirt tail plumb full of rocks. So the giants went up and mourned over their brother. And they went down past Jack sayin’, “Poor brother, if we jest knew who it was a murdered him, we’d shore fix him.” Jack was a layin’ in there with his heart jest a beatin’. They past the log and said, “Let’s pick up this log and carry hit down to poor old mother for some kindlin.” So they each took an end and carried hit a little ways. Jack thought he’d try his rocks on ’em. So he crawled up pretty close to the end and throwed a rock and hit one of the giants. Giant says to other one, “What you hit me for?” Giant says, “I didn’t hit you.” “Yes, you did too.” Then Jack crawled back and throwed a rock at the other giant. “What you hit me for? I never hit you.” “I didn’t hit you.” “Yes you did too.” So they fit and they fit and fit and directly they killed each other; one fell one side of the log dead and the other on the other side. So Jack crawled out and cut their heads off and went on back home. So he was gettin’ him a pretty good load of money and was gettin’ awfully tickled. The forest man were plumb tickled too and said, “Jack, if you jest can get the rest. But watch out they don’t get you.” “Bedads they won’t git me,” says Jack. So next morning he says, “Give me my tomihawk,” and he went on out. So along in the evenin’ he looked down the holler and saw a little old giant comin’

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up about his size. “Well,” says Jack, “I’ve about got ’em from the looks of this one.” This little giant come up a talkin’ to hisself. Looked up in the tree and saw Jack sittin’ there. “Stranger, can you tell me who has killed my poor old brothers?” “Yes, I killed your brothers, and bedad, I’ll come down and kill you if you fool with me.” “Oh please, Jack, please Jack, I’m all the child my mother’s got left, and you kill me there won’t be nobody to git her wood this winter and she’ll freeze to death. If you’ll come down I’ll take you home with me and we’ll have the best dinner.” So Jack went on down. Giant went to his mother and says, “Jack come home with me, and he says he’s the one who killed brothers but he’s not much.” So Giant’s mother says, “Well, come on in Jack, you’uns go out and play pitch crowbar awhile.” Jack couldn’t lift it. Little old giant pick hit up and throwed hit about one hundred yards. Jack went over and picked up one end and begin to holler, “Hey, uncle. Hey, uncle.” Giant says, “Hey, Jack, what you hollerin’ about?” “I’ve got an uncle in the Illinois who is a blacksmith and I thought I’d jest pitch hit to him.” “Oh don’t do that Jack, hit’s all we have.” “Well if I can’t pitch hit to Illinois, I won’t pitch hit at all.” Little old giant slipped back to the house, “Mother, I don’t believe Jack is much stout.” “Well, we’ll see,” says the mother. “Here boys, take these pails down to the river.” Little old giant took the buckets and when he got to the river he stove in his bucket and put hit up full and then he stove Jack’s in and put hit up full. Jack begun to roll up his sleeves. Little old giant says, “What you goin’ to do Jack?” “Oh thought I’d carry up the river.” “Oh don’t Jack, mother might walk in her sleep and fall in.” “All right,” says Jack, “but I wouldn’t be ketched a carryin’ that little old bucket.” So they went on back. The mother had a big hot oven sittin’ in front of the fire with a plank across hit. “Get on this plank Jack and I’ll ride ye,” says she. So Jack got up un she shuck him and shuck him trying to shake him into the oven but he fell off on the wrong side. “Let me show you,” says old mother giant, and she got on and Jack give her a shake and popped her in the oven, and he had him a baked giant in a minute. Little old giant came in, says, “Mother, mother, I smell Jack.” Jack says, “No you don’t, that’s your mother ye smell.” When little old giant sees Jack, he begin to holler, “Oh Jack, I’ll give ye anything if you won’t kill me.” “All right, give me a suit of invisible clothes.” So he give him invisible suit and Jack just went over the house and took what he wanted, all that was any account, because the giant couldn’t see him. And Jack took a sword and walked

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The South | How Brer Fox Dream He Eat Brer ’Possum

up to the little old giant and stuck hit in him and went and got him some silver and when I left there, Jack was plumb rich.

HOW BRER FOX DREAM HE EAT BRER ’POSSUM Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 132–33. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

This narrative pairs two traditional adversaries, Brer Fox (the clever) and Brer Rabbit (the tricky), in an uneasy alliance. Although the tale does deal with the origins of Brer ’Possum’s hairless tail, the major focus is on the fragile nature of the social bonds between members of the community. Brer Rabbit, as usual, is ruled by his appetites, and Brer Fox is betrayed by a “fatal” flaw. Given the number of loopholes in the social contract, vigilance must be the order of the day. Trust may be betrayed by self-interest, and even the power of the law is no match for the guile of the trickster.

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n the old times Brer ’Possum he have a long, wide, bushy tail like Brer Fox. Well, one day Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox get a mighty honein’ to set er tooth in some fresh meat, and they both start off for to find some, and directly they find Brer ’Possum up a black gum-tree. Now, in them times Brer Rabbit he can climb well as any other of the creatures, ’case he has sharp claws like a cat; and he don’t set down to nobody on climbing, Brer Rabbit don’t. So when they find Brer ’Possum way up in the top of the gum-tree, Brer Rabbit he jest climb up after Brer ’Possum, Brer Rabbit do; and jest before he reach him, Brer ’Possum he wind his tail on the limb, an’ hang wid he head down, an’ swing hisself out.

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Brer Rabbit he standing on the limb; an’ he reach out, and he grab Brer ’Possum’s tail nigh the stump, Brer Rabbit do; and Brer ’Possum he swing hisself out, and try to reach another limb with he hand; and every time Brer ’Possum swing out, Brer Rabbit’s hand slip a little on Brer ’Possum’s tail; and next time Brer ’Possum swing and reach out, Brer Rabbit he hand slip a little more, til Brer Rabbit he done skin the whole of Brer ’Possum’s tail; an’ Brer ’Possum fall to the ground, where Brer Fox done wait for him, and Brer Fox done caught him and kill him; but since that day Brer ’Possum he never have no hair on his tail. Then Brer Rabbit he come down, Brer Rabbit did, and they study how’s der bestest and soonest way to cook Brer ’Possum, ’cause dey both jes a-droolin’ for some fresh meat. Brer Fox he say, “he take Brer ’Possum home and cook him,” and he invite Brer Rabbit to come and dine with him. Brer Rabbit agrees to that, so Brer Fox he takes Brer ’Possum home and he fly round to beat all, Brer Fox do; and he gets some nice fat bacon and yams, and he just cooks dat ’Possum up fine and brown. Then Brer Fox he get mighty tired, and he say, “I ’clare, I plum too tired out to eat. I don’t know if I better eat that ’Possum now, and go to sleep and dream about him, or whether I better go to sleep and dream about him first, and then wake up and eat him”; and he lay down on the bed to study a minute, and first thing Brer Fox knowed he fast asleep. Directly here come Brer Rabbit, he knock on the door, but he ain’t get no answer; but he smell dat ’Possum, and the bacon and the yams, and the sage, and he most ’stracted [distracted] to set he tooth in it. He crack the door softly, and he find Brer Fox fast asleep on the bed, an’ the nice dinner all smoking hot on the table. Brer Rabbit he just draw up and set to, Brer Rabbit do. He eat one hind-leg; and it so fine, he say to hisself he bound to try a fore-leg, and then Brer Rabbit ’low [allows] he bound to try the other hind-leg. Well, sir, dat old man Rabbit he set there and eat til the lastest mouthful of that ’Possum done gone. Then he just turn to wonderin’, Brer Rabbit did, what Brer Fox gwine to say when he done wake up and find the bestest bits of that ’Possum gone. Brer Rabbit he find hisself in a right delicate situation, and was disturbed, Brer Rabbit was; but he say to hisself he gwine fool Brer Fox; and Brer Rabbit he take all the bones, and he put them on the floor in a row round Brer Fox’s head; and he take the marrow-grease, and he rub it softly on the whiskers round Brer Fox’s mouth; then he go out softly and close the door, and put he eye to the key-hole. Directly Brer Fox he yawn and stretch hisself and wake up; and course his mind turn to that ’Possum, and he rise up; and shorely he most powerful astonished when he see the dish empty, and the bones all ’bout hisself on the floor.

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The South | Brer Rabbit’s Cool Air Swing

Directly here come Brer Rabbit’s knock. Brer Fox say, “Come in!” and Brer Rabbit say, “Brer Fox, I come for my share of that ’Possum.” Brer Fox say, “Fore de Lord, Brer Rabbit, where that ’Possum gone?” and he fling he hand at the bones on the floor. Brer Rabbit he snap he eye, like he most mighty got a way with [upset]; and he say, “Brer Fox, I heard the creatures tell heap a powerful hard tales on yourself, but I ’clare, I never think you treat a friend dis here way.” Then Brer Fox he swear and kiss the book [swear on the Bible] he ain’t set a tooth in that ’Possum. Then Brer Rabbit he look most mighty puzzled; and at last he say, “Brer Fox, I tell you what you done done, you just eat the lastest mouthful of that ’Possum in your sleep.” Brer Fox he rare and charge, and swear he ain’t “even got the taste of ’Possum in he mouth.” Then Brer Rabbit he take Brer Fox to the glass, and make Brer Fox look at hisself; and he say, Brer Rabbit did, “Brer Fox, how come all that fresh marrowgrease on your whiskers?” and Brer Fox he look mighty set down on; and he say, “Well, all I ’low dat the most unsatisfying ’Possum I ever set a tooth in.”

BRER RABBIT’S COOL AIR SWING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 22–24. Date: 1900 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

In this narrative, Brer Rabbit plays the role of the trickster to its fullest extent. He deceives the powerful Brer Wolf with an outright lie. In order to get Brer Squirrel to release him from the knots tied by Mr. Man, he uses the African American rhetorical device of “signifying,” or indirect persuasion. In describing his situation to Brer Squirrel, Brer Rabbit is not a bound captive seeking a means of escape—he is enjoying a “cool air swing.” The deception is so convincing that Squirrel begs to take a turn in the “swing,” unties the knots, and takes Rabbit’s place. There is

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even the motif of trickster as shapeshifter in Mr. Man’s observation that, “I done hear of many and many your fine tricks, but I never done hear you turn yourself into a squirrel before.”

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r. Man he have a fine garden. Brer Rabbit he visit Mr. Man’s garden every day and destroy the everything in it, ’til Mr. Man plum wore out with old Brer Rabbit. Mr. Man he set a trap for old Brer Rabbit down ’longside the big road. One day when Mr. Man going down to the cross-roads, he look in his trap, and sure ’nough, there old Brer Rabbit. Mr. Man he say, “Oh, so old man, here you is. Now I’ll have you for my dinner.” Mr. Man he take a cord from his pocket, and tie Brer Rabbit high on a limb of a sweet gum tree, and he leave Brer Rabbit swinging there ’til he come back from the cross-roads, when he aim to fetch Brer Rabbit home and cook him for his dinner. Brer Rabbit he swing this away in the wind and that away in the wind, and he swing this away in the wind and that away in the wind, and he think he time done come. Poor old Brer Rabbit don’t know where he’s at. Presently here come Brer Wolf loping down the big road. When Brer Wolf see old Brer Rabbit swinging this away and that away in the wind, Brer Wolf he stop short and he say, “God a’ mighty, man! What you doing up there?” Brer Rabbit he say, “This just my cool air swing. I just taking a swing this morning.” But Brer Rabbit he just know Brer Wolf going to make way with him. Brer Rabbit he just turn it over in his mind which way he going to get to. The wind it swing poor Brer Rabbit way out this away and way out that away. While Brer Rabbit swinging, he work his brain, too. Brer Wolf he say, “Brer Rabbit, I got you fast; now I going eat you up.” Brer Rabbit he say, “Brer Wolf, open your mouth and shut your eyes, and I’ll jump plum in your mouth.” So Brer Wolf turn his head up and shut his eyes. Brer Rabbit he feel in his pocket and take out some pepper, and Brer Rabbit he throw it plum down Brer Wolf’s throat. Brer Wolf he nigh ’bout ’stracted with the misery. He cough and he roll in the dirt, and he get up and he strike out for home, coughing to beat all. And Brer Rabbit he swing this away and that away in the wind. Presently here come Brer Squirrel. When Brer Squirrel he see the wind swing Brer Rabbit way out this away and way out that away, Brer Squirrel he that ’stonished, he stop short. Brer Squirrel he say, “Fore the Lord, Brer Rabbit, what you done done to yourself this here time?”

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The South | The Lion and the Unicorn

Brer Rabbit he say, “This here is my cool air swing, Brer Squirrel. I taking a fine swing this morning.” And the wind it swing Brer Rabbit way out this away and way back that away. Brer Rabbit he fold his hands, and look mighty restful and happy, like he settin’ back fanning hisself on his front porch. Brer Squirrel he say, “Please sir, Brer Rabbit, let me try your swing one time.” Brer Rabbit he say, “Certainly, Brer Squirrel, you do me proud,” and Brer Rabbit he make like he make haste to turn hisself loose. Presently Brer Rabbit he say, “Come up here, Brer Squirrel, and give me a hand with this knot,” and Brer Squirrel he make haste to go up and turn Brer Rabbit loose, and Brer Rabbit he make Brer Squirrel fast to the cord. The wind it swing Brer Squirrel way out this away and way out that away, and Brer Squirrel he think it fine. Brer Rabbit he say, “I go down to the spring to get a fresh drink. You can swing ’til I come back.” Brer Squirrel he say, “Take your time, Brer Rabbit, take your time.” Brer Rabbit he take his time, and scratch out for home fast as he can go, and he ain’t caring how long Brer Squirrel swing. Brer Squirrel he swing this away and he swing that away, and he think it fine. Presently here come Mr. Man. When Mr. Man he see Brer Squirrel, he plum ’stonished. He say, “Oh, so old man, I done hear of many and many your fine tricks, but I never done hear you turn yourself into a squirrel before. Powerful kind of you, Brer Rabbit, to give me fine squirrel dinner.” Mr. Man he take Brer Squirrel home and cook him for dinner.

THE LION AND THE UNICORN Tradition Bearers: Monroe Ward and Miles Ward Source: Chase, Richard. “The Lion and the Unicorn.” The Southern Folklore Quarterly 1 (1937): 16–19. Date: 1937 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: European American

As in many variants of the well-known European märchen on which “The Lion and the Unicorn” is modeled, this Jack tale is built around

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the unlikely hero’s inadvertent successes in defeating wild animals. His conquests are based not on hunting skill nor on cleverness but on lucky accidents. Beyond luck, Jack’s primary attribute in the tale is audacity in asserting his prowess. The invariable conclusion of this tale, and the others of the cycle, is that Jack ends up rich.

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ack started out one time to try his fortune. Told his mother he couldn’t do any good there at home. So he went traveling about over the country, and was going past a saw mill ’side the road, picked up a little thin piece of plank looked rather nice. He laid down under a tree to rest a while and got to shaving on that plank till finally he’d made him a paddle. He didn’t know what he’d do with it, just carried it along. He struck out directly through a pasture field, come to where a bunch of flies had lit down on a cow-pile. So Jack cut loose with his paddle and come down on ’em, then he looked to see how many he’d killed. Well, he went on down the road and come to a blacksmith shop. Jack went in and got the blacksmith to make him some big letters for his belt, said: “Strong Man Jack Killed Seven at a Whack.” So Jack put that around him and went on. Pretty soon here come the King riding on his horse, says, “Hello, Jack. What’s all that writing you got around you?” So the King read it, says to Jack, “You must be a pretty brave fellow.” “Not so awful. I can do some things.” “Well, if you’re up to that sign on your belt, I got a job for you. How’d you like to take a chance on killing a wild boar? There’s one over on the side of the mountain yonder been killing lots of sheep. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you kill it. All my men are scared of it.” “Well,” says Jack, “I’ll try.” Jack got the King to pay him five hundred down, and then the King says, “Come on, Jack, I’ll go with you and show you what mountain it uses on.” So Jack says, “If I can find it, King, I’ll sure kill it.” Jack knew if the King’s men were scared of it, it must be awful dangerous. The King took him over in the mountain a right smart piece, got to looking around kind of nervous, stopped his horse directly, says, “Now, Jack, you’ll have to go on up in the mountain and find it. I got important business back home.” Then he turned his horse around and just lit out. Jack said he’d wait a little while and then he’d slip out before that wild boar smelled him. He’d got five

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The South | The Lion and the Unicorn

hundred dollars, and he didn’t want to get mixed up with no wild hog. But when he started back to the road, he heard it breaking brush up the mountain, making an awful racket, then he saw it coming. So Jack took out across the field, him and the boar, whippety cut! Whippety cut! And the wild hog just a-gaining. Well, Jack saw an old waste-house with no roof on it, standing down the field a ways, so he made for it, run in the door, and scrambled up the wall. The old hog was right on him and got a piece out of Jack’s coat tail, Then he stood there with his forefeet up on the wall, looking for Jack. Well, Jack clumb down the outside and run around and pushed the door to and propped it with some timbers. Then he went on back to the King’s house. “Well, Jack, did you have any luck?” “No, I couldn’t find no wild hog. I hunted all over that mountain, didn’t see nothing.” “Why, Jack, that wild boar just makes for anybody goes up there, time he smells ’em.” “Well, a little old boar shoat come bristling up to me, kept follering me around, I kicked it over several times, but the blame thing got playful and jerked a piece out of my coat tail. Made me a little mad then so I took it by the tail and ear, throwed it in an old waste-house up there and barred him in. You can go up and look if you want to.” When the King rode up there and saw it was that boar, he like to beat his horse to death getting back. Then he blowed his horn and fifty or sixty men come up. They took a lot of Winchester rifles and went up to that old waste-house; but they was so scared that they wouldn’t go close enough to get a shoot at it. Jack said he wasn’t scared so he went down with a rifle and poked it in there and shot two or three times. That old hog commenced tearing around inside and tore the house plumb down. He give one kick, knocked the chimney down and one of the rocks took him between the eyes and he keeled over dead. So the men skinned it out, and it made two wagon loads of meat. The King paid Jack the rest of the thousand dollars, said he had another job for him. Jack asked him what it was. “They say there’s a unicorn using back here on another mountain, doing a lot of damage to people’s livestock. It’s a lot more dangerous than that boar, but a brave feller like you, Jack, ought not to have any trouble killing it. I’ll pay you another thousand dollars, too.” Well, Jack couldn’t back out of it, but before he said he would try it he got the King to pay him five hundred down. When the King took Jack up there and left him, Jack watched him out of sight, then he says, “I’ll just get out of here now. I’m not going to fool around and get killed. I got my money, I’ll just go another way.”

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But Jack hadn’t got out of the woods when he heard unicorn a-coming. So he started running around in among them trees as hard as he could go. He looked back and saw that horn making a lunge for the middle of his back so he grabbed hold of a little white oak and swung around behind it. The unicorn swerved at him, but he hit that oak and stove his horn plumb through it. And when Jack saw it come through, he took some nails out of his overall pocket, grabbed him up a rock, and wedged the horn in tight. Then he went on back to the King. “What luck you have this time, Jack?” “Why, King, I didn’t see no unicorn.” “Now that’s a curious thing to me. Nobody else ever went in there but what that unicorn come right after ’em.” “Well, some kind of little old yearling bull, didn’t have but one horn, come down there bawling and pawing the ground. Follered me around so close it kind of aggravated me finally. So I took it by the tail and stove its horn through a tree. I reckon it’s still fastened up where I left it. You can go up there and see if you want to.” So Jack took the King where it was, and when he saw it he whirled his horse and got back in a hurry. The men got their rifles but they were too scared to go close enough to get a shoot at it. So Jack went up to the unicorn, took a switch and hit it, says, “See, men, there’s not a bit of harm in him.” The men finally shot it and when it fell it tore that tree plumb up by the roots. Then they skinned it and brought back the hide. The King paid Jack the other five hundred and Jack was just about to leave when the King called him, says, “Jack, they’ve just brought in word that a lion has come over the mountain and been using around a settlement over there killing everything it comes across, cattle and horses, and they say it’s done killed several men tried to go after it. I told them about you, Jack, and they made me promise to send you.” “Well, King, that sounds like the dangerest thing of all.” “I’ll pay you nother thousand dollars for it, Jack.” “I don’t know as I favor working any more right now, King. I said I’d be back home tonight and they’ll be looking for me in. Besides I’m tired out with all that running around I done already.” “Come on now, Jack, I’ll pay you two thousand.” “Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to study on it a while.” “Here’s a thousand dollars right now, son. I’d sure like to get shed of that lion.” “I’ll do it then, I reckon.” So the King took Jack up behind him on his horse and they rode over to where they said the lion was. Then the King said he’d not venture any further, so Jack slipped off the horse, and the King says to him, “When it smells you, Jack, you’ll sure hear from it,” and then he put out like a streak.

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The South | When Brer ’Possum Attend Miss Fox’s House-Party

Well, Jack said he had three thousand dollars and he’d go a different direction and get back home. But before he’d started hardly, that old lion smelt him and commenced roaring up in the woods, roared so he jarred the mountain. “Lordy me!” says Jack, “I’m a goner this time.” He didn’t waste no time running, he made for the closest scaly-bark sapling and skinned up it like a squirrel. The old lion jumped up on the tree a time or two and then prowled around looking up at Jack. Then the lion commenced gnawing on the tree and Jack was just about scared to death. He got it gnawed about half through, when he quit and laid down and went to sleep right against the foot of the tree. Well, Jack had heard that lions were hard to wake up, so he thought he’d better take a chance and try to slip down and get away before it woke up again. He got down about halfway all right, but he was looking so hard at the lion’s eyes that he didn’t see when he set his foot on a prickly snag. Well, that snag broke with him and he went scooting down and landed right straddle of the lion’s back. Well, the old lion started in roaring and jumping and humping around but Jack just held on. And directly the lion got to running and he was so scared he didn’t know that he was headed right for town. All the people come out shouting and hollering and the King’s men started in to shooting at it till finally they tumbled it up. When they done that Jack picked himself up out of the dirt and come over where the King was, says, “Look a-here, King, I’m mad.” “Why, how come, Jack?” “These men have done killed your lion.” “My lion? What you mean, son?” “Why, King, I’d a-not had him killed for three thousand dollars; I was just riding him down here to get him broke in for you a ridey horse.” So the King went over to where his men were and raised a rumpus with ’em, says, “Why, I’d a-felt big riding that lion around. Now you men will have to pay Jack three thousand dollars for killing that lion.” So Jack went home with six thousand dollars in his pocket, and the last time I was down there he was still rich.

WHEN BRER ’POSSUM ATTEND MISS FOX’S HOUSE-PARTY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 130–31.

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This tale of the disastrous end of the imposter at the house party carries a message found in many of the animal tales in the Southern African American corpus: “putting on airs” leads to trouble. Brer ’Possum, though rich, was just “poor white trash.” In spite of help from Brer Rabbit, whose stock and trade was such subterfuge, ’Possum finds himself unable to control his true nature and is found out.

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nce long before the war, when times was good, Miss Fox she set out for to give a house-party, Miss Fox did.

And Miss Fox she ’low she ain’ going invite any person to her house-party ’cepting the quality; and when Brer Fox he just mention Brer ’Possum’s name, Miss Fox she rare and charge, Miss Fox do. She give it to Brer Fox, and she ’low how she don’t invite no poor white trash to her house-party; and she ’low, Miss Fox do, how Brer Fox must set his mind on giving a tacky party. Brer Fox he ’low how Brer ’Possum ain’t no poor white trash; but Miss Fox she ’clare Brer ’Possum ain’t no more than a half-strainer, and so Miss Fox she don’t invite Brer ’Possum to her house-party. Well, Brer ’Possum he feel mighty broke up when he hear all the other creeters talking about the house-party, ’case Brer ’Possum he have plenty money. Brer ’Possum are a mighty shifty man, and always have plenty money. Well, Brer ’Possum he tell Brer Rabbit how he feel ’bout Miss Fox houseparty; and he ask Brer Rabbit, Brer ’Possum do, why he don’ be invited. Brer Rabbit he ’low it all because Brer ’Possum don’t hold up his head and wear store clothes; and Brer Rabbit he advise Brer ’Possum to order hisself some real quality clothes, and a churn hat, and go to Miss Fox house-party; and he ’low, Brer Rabbit do, how they won’t know Brer ’Possum, and mistake hisself sure for some man from the city.

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The South | The Tasks of Rabbit

So ole Brer ’Possum he got plenty money, and he go to the city, Brer ’Possum do; and he order just a quality suit of clothes, Brer ’Possum do; and he go to the barber, and get hisself shaved, and his hair cut, and he present hisself at Miss Fox house-party. Well, you may be sure Brer ’Possum he receive flattering attention, he surely did; and every last one of the people asking, “Who that fine gentleman?” “Who that city gentleman?” “Who that distinguished-looking gentleman?” and Brer Rabbit he make hisself forward to introduce Brer ’Possum right and left, “My friend Mr. Potsum from Augusta!” That old Brer Rabbit he done say “Potsum,” ’cause in case they find him out, that old Brer Rabbit he going swear and kiss the book [swear on the Bible] he done say ’Possum, all the time. That just exactly what that old man Rabbit going to do. But, Lord bless you! They all that taken up with the fine gentleman, they don’ spicion hisself; and he pass a mighty proudful evening, Brer ’Possum do. But when it come retiring-time, and the gentlemans all get their candles, and ’scorted to their rooms, Brer ’Possum he look at the white bed, and he look all ’bout the room, and he feel powerful uncomfortable, Brer ’Possum do, ’case Brer ’Possum he never sleep in a bed in all his born days. Brer ’Possum he just can’t sleep in a bed. The poor old man he walk round the room, and round the room, ’til the house get asleep; and he take off all his fine clothes, and he open the door softly, and step out all to hisself, he powerful tired; and he just climb a tree what stand by the porch, and hang hisself off by his tail and fall asleep. In the morning, when Miss Fox get up and open the door, she see Brer ’Possum hanging from the limb. She that astonished she can’t believe her eyes; but Miss Fox know a fine fat ’Possum when she see him, she surely do. Well, Miss Fox she catch hold of Brer ’Possum and kill him, and dress him, and serve him up on the breakfast-table; and the guests they compliment Miss Fox on her fine ’Possum breakfast; but when they go call the fine gentleman from the City, they just find his fine clothes, but they never suspicion where he done gone, ’til many day after, when old Brer Rabbit he done let the secret out.

THE TASKS OF RABBIT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 104–5 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929.

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Date: 1929 Original Source: Hitchiti National Origin: Native American

“The Tasks of Rabbit” bears the marks of a Native American myth, an African trickster tale, an African American animal tale, and a European märchen. The episode in which Rabbit is given his physical attributes is a common mythic motif. Rabbit’s initial encounter with a supernatural helper and the obligation to complete three tasks suggest the motifs and repetitive patterns of the European magic tale. The tale plot itself is found in Africa; the tale here is a variant of the West African tale of Zomo the Hare who must use his wits to perform three equally “impossible tasks.” An African American variant was documented by Joel Chandler Harris. The distribution of iterations of this tale throughout the region demonstrates the continuing contact among the culture bearers regardless of ethnicity. Throughout the tale Rabbit displays his range of trickster attributes: he shapeshifts into a squirrel in his persona of Rabbit the conjurer, and he is able to control other characters by capitalizing on their own weaknesses in his role of master manipulator.

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abbit asked food of an old man. Then the old man said to him, “Kill an alligator and bring it to me and when I see it I will enumerate to you all of the various kinds of food that you may eat.” Rabbit started along thinking over what he should say to the Alligator in order to kill him. He got close to a river and thought, “I might tell him this.” He went into the water and spoke aloud to any Alligator that was in the water, “Are you here, old person?” “Yes, I am here,” the Alligator answered. “Why have you come here?” asked the Alligator, and Rabbit said, “Because they told me to bring you to fashion a wooden spoon.” “All right, I will fashion it,” the Alligator answered, and he came out. Now Rabbit started on ahead, and when he got some distance away Rabbit thought of a way to kill him. He picked up a stick and beat the Alligator repeatedly, but the latter ran back to the water and, with Rabbit still beating him, jumped into the stream and swam away. Rabbit stopped. He did not know how he was to make him believe again. Then he thought, “I might tell him this.”

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The South | The Tasks of Rabbit

He turned himself into a gray squirrel. There was a tree that hung over the water and bent down toward it, and the Rabbit thus turned into a gray squirrel, sat on the top of that tree and made a chattering noise which the Alligator heard as he lay in the water. “I am getting tired of your noise,” said the Alligator finally. “Well,” Rabbit answered, “the old man told Rabbit to bring you to chop out a wooden spoon for him. He went and has not returned, so he said to me, ‘Go and see what is the matter.’ That is why I am here.” “One was around talking like that,” said the Alligator, “and beat me a lot, and in spite of what you are saying you might do the same thing.” “Rabbit is always a fool, they say. He came over and treated you so because he is just a fool. He came over because the old man wants to employ you to chop out a wooden spoon, but he treated you abominably. But come out and chop it for me and I will take it back.” He came out and followed him. Both set out. When they got near the place where he had beaten him before the Alligator said, “Right here Rabbit beat me.” After he had told him, they reached the place, and, while they were going along a little beyond it, the Alligator said, “If Rabbit had known where to hit me in order to kill me he could have done so. He did not know and so I am alive.” “Where does one have to hit you to kill you?” the Gray Squirrel asked the Alligator. “My hip joint is the place on which to hit me. Then when I stop and raise my head, all that is necessary is to hit me on the back of my head. One must do that in order to kill me, but Rabbit did not know it. He hit me in another place and did not kill me.” Now while they were going on Rabbit again picked up a stick he found, turned and ran back to the Alligator and hit him on the hip joint. This stopped him and when the Alligator threw his head up he hit him upon the back of it and killed him. Then he cut off his tail, impaled it on the stick and took it to the old man. But the old man said to him, “Pick up a sackful of ants and bring them back.” So Rabbit took a sack and started off. He arrived at the Ants’ home and said to them, “Many people were saying that the Ants can not fill this sack, but I said it could be filled, and so I have come here to prove it.” When Rabbit told the Ants this they said, “There are many of us here. We can fill that sack.” He opened the sack and all of the Ants went in, and then he closed it. When he brought it back the old man said, “Kill a rattlesnake and bring it to me.” He started off again and came to a place where he had noticed a rattlesnake was living. He sharpened a short stick at one end and carried it along. Then Rabbit said to the Rattlesnake, “People were saying, you are of about the

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length of this stick. ‘No, he is a long fellow,’ I said to them, and, when they would not believe me, I said, ‘Well then, I will go and measure him,’ and so I am here.” The Snake answered, “I am not a small fellow.” He stretched out, and while he lay there Rabbit began measuring him from the end of his tail toward the bead. But when he got as far as the back of his head with the sharp stick, he stuck it through into the ground and killed him. He took him up and came back with him. When he brought the body of the Rattlesnake to the old man the latter said, “I do not know what else to ask of you. Come to me.” So Rabbit went up to the old man and the latter pulled his ears up and down. He stretched his long ears straight up. He slapped one cheek and made it flat. He did the same thing to both, so that both cheeks became flat. This is how it is told.

WHEN BRER RABBIT HELP BRER TERRAPIN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 128–30. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

In this tale, Brer Rabbit relies both on his wits and on his reputation as a conjurer and a practitioner of hoodoo (traditional African-descended magical techniques used to influence events and persons or cure disease). The talents of conjurer and hoodoo practitioner appear from time to time in the traditional narratives, and Brer Rabbit may be portrayed as a genuine hoodoo doctor or may simply take on this persona to carry out his schemes. Relying on his powers to terrorize his neighbors, Brer Wolf attempts to enlist Rabbit’s aid in his plan to destroy Brer Terrapin. Instead, Brer Rabbit uses his deceptive abilities to put the fear of conjuration into Wolf. The power of the left eye to enact supernatural work is an authentic touch added by the narrator.

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The South | When Brer Rabbit Help Brer Terrapin

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n the ole days Brer Wolf he have a mighty grudge against Brer Terrapin, Brer Wolf do; and one day Brer Wolf come up with old Brer Terrapin in the woods; and he say, Brer Wolf do, how he just going to make a end of ole Brer Terrapin. But Brer Terrapin he just draw in his foots and shut the door; and he draw in his arms and shut the door; and then if the ole man don’t bodaciously draw in his head and shut the door right in Brer Wolf’s face. That make ole Brer Wolf mighty angry, sure it naturally do; but he bound he ain’t going to be outdone that way, and he study ’bout how he going smash Brer Terrapin’s house in; but there ain’ no rock there, and he feared to leave the ole man, ’cause he know directly he leave him the ole chap going open the doors of his house and tote hisself off. Well, while Brer Wolf study ’bout it, here come Brer Rabbit; but he make like he don’t see Brer Wolf, ’case they ain’t the bestest of friends in them days, Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit ain’t, no, that they ain’t. But Brer Wolf he call out, he do, “O Brer Rabbit, Brer Rabbit, come here!” So Brer Rabbit he draw up, and he see Ole Brer Terrapin’s house with the doors all shut; and he say, “Morning, Brer Terrapin!” But Brer Terrapin never crack his door; so Brer Wolf say, he do, “Brer Rabbit, you stay here and watch the ole man, while I go and fetch a rock to smash his house!” And Brer Wolf he take hisself off. Directly Brer Wolf gone, ole Brer Terrapin he open his door and peek out. Now, Brer Rabbit and Brer Terrapin was the best friends in the ole time; and Brer Rabbit, he say, he do, “Now, Brer Terrapin, Brer Wolf done gone for to tote a rock to smash your house”; and Brer Terrapin say he going move on. Then Brer Rabbit know if Brer Wolf come back and find he let Brer Terrapin make off with his house, Brer Wolf going fault hisself; and Brer Wolf are a strong man, and he are a bad man; and poor ole Brer Rabbit he take his hindermost hand and he scratch his head, and clip off right smart. Brer Rabbit was a pert man them days. Directly he come up with ole Sis Cow, and he say, “Howdy, Sis Cow? Is you got a tick you could lend out to your friends?” and he take a tick and tote it back, and put it on the rock just where Brer Terrapin was. Presently here come Brer Wolf back, totin’ a big rock; and he see Brer Rabbit just tearing his hair and fanning his hands, and crying, “Oh, dear! oh, dear! I’se feared of my power, I’se feared of my power!” but Brer Wolf he say, “Where ole man Terrapin gone with his house? I done told you to watch.” But Brer Rabbit he only cry the more, and he say, “That what I done tell you, don’t you see what my power done done? There all what left of poor ole Brer Terrapin

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right there.” And Brer Rabbit he look that sorrowful-like, he near ’bout broke down, and he point to the cow-tick. But Brer Wolf he done live on the plantation with Brer Rabbit many a day; and Brer Wolf he say, “Quit your fooling, ole man. You done turn Brer Terrapin loose, and I just going to use this here rock to smash your head.” Then Brer Rabbit he make haste to make out to Brer Wolf how that little chap surely are all what’s left of poor ole Brer Terrapin. And Brer Rabbit he make out how the power are in his left eye to make a big man perish away; and Brer Rabbit he ’low how he just happen to strike his left eye on his ole friend Brer Terrapin, and directly he get smaller and smaller, ’til that all there be left of the poor ole man. When Brer Rabbit say that, he turn and cut his left eye sharp at Brer Wolf, Brer Rabbit do. Brer Wolf he just look once on the little tick, and he say, “Don’ look at me, Brer Rabbit! Don’ look at me!” and Brer Wolf he strike out, and he just burn the wind for the woods. Then Brer Rabbit he clip it off down the road ’til he come up with ole Brer Terrapin; and they strike a fire, and make a good pot of coffee, and talk it over.

RABBIT KILLS BIG MAN-EATER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Page 161 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: Native American

Big Man-eater appears in a number of traditional tales from the Native American Southeast. The cannibal figure strikes at a particularly fearful element in the human psyche and is found in such widely dispersed forms as the Windigo figure of the subarctic, the Giant at the top of Jack’s beanstalk (See “Jack and the Beanstalk,” p. 134 in present collection), Hansel and Gretel’s witch, and “Old Foster” of the southern highlands

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The South | Rabbit Kills Big Man-eater

(p. 155). Rabbit exercises his power of deception in this narrative to play the role of culture hero, the life-enhancing persona of the trickster. Although the culture hero brings technology and social order in many traditions, his role as a monster slayer who cleanses the natural order and makes the universe safe for humanity also is well-represented. In typical fashion, Rabbit changes shapes and even gender to gain the advantage over his monstrous adversary.

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ig Man-eater lived with his wife at a certain place and wanted to kill human beings. People heard of it and said, “They want to kill us,” and all were afraid. Then Rabbit said, “Give me an old dress,” and they gave it to him. He said, “Give me an old blanket,” and they gave that to him. Then he put on the dress, wrapped up his head in the old blanket, and started off. When he reached the place and stood in the yard Big Man-eater’s wife saw him and came out, and asked who he was. “I am your youngest aunt who has traveled to this place,” he said. “Come in,” said Big Man-eater’s wife, so he started to go in. “Sit down,” she said, and down he sat. Then they gave the supposed aunt some hard deer meat to eat, but he said, “I can’t eat that, because I have no teeth. I need a hatchet, for I can’t eat that [as it is].” So they gave him a hatchet and he chopped the dry venison into small pieces and ate them. Then he said, “That is the way I always eat it.” Now Big Man-eater lay down but the two women sat still by the fire. Rabbit said to Big Man-eater’s wife, “When your husband is asleep what kind of noise does he make?” “When he is not sleeping very soundly he makes a noise like ‘sololon sololon.’ When he makes a noise like ‘soloñ soloñ’ he is very sound asleep.” “I will stay all night with you; in the morning I will start on,” said Rabbit. So Big Man-eater’s wife lay down and Rabbit lay down close to the fire. As he lay there he listened to the noises Big Man-eater was making. Then he slept and made a noise like “sololon sololon.” After some time he made a noise like “soloñ soloñ.” Then Rabbit took the hatchet and, after he had sat close to Big Maneater for a while listening, he struck him with it in the neck and cut his head off. Then he threw off his old dress and blanket, shouted, jumped up and down several times, went out of the house, and ran off.

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RABBIT AND BIG MAN-EATER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 159-60 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: Native American

The following myth is another in the cycle of adventures of Rabbit and Big Man-eater discussed in the introductory remarks to the preceding narrative.

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ig Man-eater traveled along until he came to a town where he killed and ate all of the people. On the way to another town he met Rabbit, who said, “At this town all the people have run off. I kill and eat people and here are their bones.” When he met Big Man-eater he carried over his shoulder a child with a stick run through it. Then they sat down beside the trail to defecate. Both shut their eyes, and when they defecated Big Man-eater evacuated bones while Rabbit passed only grass. Rabbit opened his eyes, picked up Big Man-eater’s excrement and put it under himself and took his own and placed it under Big Man-eater. When both finally opened their eyes, Big Man-eater said, “I never passed anything like this before.” The next time both defecated with their eyes open and Rabbit passed nothing but grass while Big Man-eater defecated bones. After that they struck up a friendship. Rabbit said, “Let us go to Treefalling-down Camp.” So they set out. When they arrived Rabbit said, “Wait right here while I hunt for a good camping place.” He went on until he saw a tree that shook and was ready to fall, when he called his companion. “Over here there is a good place,” he said and Big Man-eater went there. When night came, both lay down, and, while Big Man-eater slept, Rabbit awoke and pushed the tree down upon him. Then he threw small limbs upon himself and made a noise as if he had been hurt. Big Man-eater pushed the tree away and woke up. “This camp is always like that,” said Rabbit.

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The South | How the Deer Obtained His Horns

Next time Rabbit said, “Let us go to Ashes-thrown-on Camp,” and they started off. When they got there and had made camp Rabbit picked up a quantity of wood, kindled it, and made a big fire. But after the two had lain down Rabbit awoke, gathered up a lot of hot ashes on some bark with which he had provided himself, and threw them on Big Man-eater. On himself he threw cold ashes. Big Man-eater was badly hurt. In the morning Rabbit said, “Let us go to Jumping-bluff Creek,” and they started on. After they had traveled for a while they reached the place and went down the creek. “Let us jump across it and back four times,” said Rabbit. Rabbit jumped first four times. When Big Man-eater prepared to jump Rabbit held for him the bag he was carrying. Before Big Man-eater had jumped four times he fell from the bluff into the water. The water rose and Big Man-eater went down into it. “My friend is gone; he is going far out into the sea,” said Rabbit. Rabbit, however, took Big Man-eater’s bag and started home.

HOW THE DEER OBTAINED HIS HORNS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokees” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 106–8. Date: 1887 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

In this myth from the Cherokee, Rabbit plays his familiar role of trickster. The myth of “Kanati and Selu” focused on sacred features of the Cherokee world. In these trickster myths, however, the origins of the animals’ attributes and the phenomena of the physical universe are at times overshadowed by the amusement value of the escapades of characters such as Rabbit. Therefore, the tales invite comparison to the African American tales of Brer Rabbit and the Cajun Comrade Lapin. These narrative similarities comprise an interesting continuity across the South.

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n the old days the animals were fond of amusement, and were constantly getting up grand meetings and contests of various kinds, with prizes for the winner. On one occasion a prize was offered to the animal with the finest coat, and although the otter deserved to win it, the rabbit stole his coat, and nearly got the prize for himself. After a while the animals got together again, and made a large pair of horns, to be given to the best runner. The race was to be through a thicket, and the one who made the best time, with the horns on his head, was to get them. Everybody knew from the first that either the deer or the rabbit would be the winner, but bets were high on the rabbit, who was a great runner and a general favorite. But the rabbit had no tail, and always went by jumps, and his friends were afraid that the horns would make him fall over in the bushes unless he had something to balance them, so they fixed up a tail for him with a stick and some bird’s down. “Now,” says the rabbit, “let me look over the ground where I am to run.” So he went into the thicket, and was gone so long that at last one of the animals went to see what had become of him, and there he found the rabbit hard at work gnawing down bushes and cutting off the hanging limbs of the trees, and making a road for himself clear through to the other side of the swamp. The messenger did not let the rabbit see him, but came back quietly and told his story to the others. Pretty soon the rabbit came out again, ready to put on the horns and begin the race, but several of the animals said that he had been gone so long that it looked as if he must have been cutting a road through the bushes. The rabbit denied it up and down, but they all went into the thicket, and there was the open road, sure enough. Then the chief got very angry, and said to the rabbit, “Since you are so fond of the business, you may spend the rest of your life gnawing twigs and bushes,” and so the rabbit does to this day. The other animals would not allow the rabbit to run at all now, so they put the horns on the deer, who plunged into the worst part of the thicket, and made his way out to the other side, then turned round and came back again on a different track, in such fine style that everyone said he had won the horns. But the rabbit felt sore about it, and resolved to get even with him. One day, soon after the contest for the horns, the rabbit stretched a large grapevine across the trail, and gnawed it nearly in two in the middle. Then he went back a piece, took a good run, and jumped up at the vine. He kept on running and jumping up at the vine, until the deer came along and asked him what he was doing. “Don’t you see?” says the rabbit. “I’m so strong that I can bite through that grape-vine at one jump.” The deer could hardly believe this, and wanted to see it done. So the rabbit ran back, made a tremendous spring, and bit through the vine where he had gnawed it

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The South | Rabbit Fools Alligator

before. The deer, when he saw that, said, “Well; I can do it if you can.” So the rabbit stretched a larger grape-vine across the trail, but without gnawing it in the middle. Then the deer ran back as he had seen the rabbit do, made a powerful spring, and struck the grape-vine right in the centre; but it only flew back, and threw him over on his head. He tried again and again, until he was all bruised and bleeding. “Let me see your teeth,” at last said the rabbit. So the deer showed him his teeth, which were long and sharp, like a wolf’s teeth. “No wonder you can’t do it,” says the rabbit; “your teeth are too blunt to bite anything. Let me sharpen them for you, like mine. My teeth are so sharp that I can cut through a stick just like a knife.” And he showed him a blacklocust twig, of which rabbits gnaw the young shoots, which he had shaved off as well as a knife could do it, just in rabbit fashion. The deer thought that was just the thing. So the rabbit got a hard stone, with rough edges, and filed and filed away at the deer’s teeth, until they were filed down almost to the gums. “Now try it,” says the rabbit. So the deer tried again, but this time he couldn’t bite at all. “Now you’ve paid for your horns,” said the rabbit, as he laughed and started home through the bushes. Ever since then the deer’s teeth are so blunt that he cannot chew anything but grass and leaves.

RABBIT FOOLS ALLIGATOR Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 52–53 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Creek National Origin: Native American

In the following Creek tale, Rabbit’s malicious persona exemplifies the trickster. The narrative is of particular interest for the variety of cultural influences it displays. The devil is an obvious European introduction to

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the tale, whereas Rabbit is an indigenous trickster in African (as hare), African American, and Native American traditions. Rabbit’s strategy of asking an apparently innocent question designed to victimize Alligator by means of his own vanity, however, could be classified as “signifying,” the African American rhetorical strategy of directing by indirection.

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he Alligator was sunning himself on a log when the Rabbit said to him: “Mr. Alligator, did you ever see the devil?” “No, Mr. Rabbit, but I am not afraid to see him,” replied the Alligator. “Well, I saw the devil, and he said you were afraid to look at him,” said the Rabbit. “I’m not afraid of him, and you tell him so,” bravely responded the Alligator. “Are you willing to crawl up the hill to-morrow and let me show you the devil?” asked the Rabbit. “Yes, I am willing,” said the Alligator. The Rabbit spoke up and said, “Now Mr. Alligator, when you see smoke rising don’t be afraid, the devil will be just starting out.” “You need not be so particular about me. I am not afraid,” said he. “Now when you see birds flying and deer running past you don’t get scared.” “I shall not get scared.” “When you hear fire crackling close to you and the grass burning all around you, don’t get scared. The devil will come along and you can get a good look at him,” and with this advice the Rabbit left. The next day he returned and told Alligator to crawl out and lie in the high grass and wait until the devil came. So out crawled the Alligator and took his position in the grass as directed by the Rabbit. When he saw the Alligator so far from the water the Rabbit laughed to himself. He ran across the prairie till he reached a burning stump, got a chunk of fire, and returned to a spot near his confiding friend, where he kindled the grass and soon had the pleasure of seeing a blaze all around the Alligator. Then, running to a sandy place where there was no grass, he sat down to see the fun. He had not long to wait, for when the smoke rose in clouds and the birds flew by, and the animals ran for life over the prairie, the Alligator cried out: “Oh, Mr. Rabbit, what’s that?” The Rabbit answered: “Oh, you lie still; that’s nothing but the devil starting out.” Soon the fire began to crackle and roar, and the flames swept over the prairie, and the Alligator called: “Oh, Mr. Rabbit, what’s that?” “Oh, that’s the devil’s breath. Don’t be scared. You will see him directly.” The Rabbit rolled over in the sand and kicked his heels in the air. The fire came nearer and nearer and began to burn the grass all around the Alligator, and under him,

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The South | Rabbit Gets a Turkey for Wildcat

till he rolled and twisted in pain. “Don’t be scared, Mr. Alligator. Just lie still a little longer and the devil will be right there and you can get a good look at him,” cried out the Rabbit, as he saw the movements of the Alligator. But the latter could stand it no longer and started down the hill to the water through the burning grass, snapping his teeth and rolling over in pain, while the Rabbit laughed and jumped in delight, saying, “Wait, Mr. Alligator, don’t be in such a hurry. You are not afraid of the devil.” But the Alligator tumbled into the water to cool his roasted skin, and wondered how the Rabbit could stand such awful scenes.

RABBIT GETS A TURKEY FOR WILDCAT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Pages 47–48 in Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Creek National Origin: Native American

The Creek Nation was a confederation of tribes in the “deep” southern states of Georgia, Alabama, and contiguous areas. Prior to their removal to “Indian Territory” (Oklahoma), the Creeks developed close ties with African Americans, offering refuge to runaway slaves. These ties undoubtedly influenced the animal tales that were collected from their descendants in later centuries. The following narrative is one such tale. In it, trickster Rabbit reveals his willingness to sacrifice his neighbors to save himself. Typically he couples his guile with the character flaws of his victims to attain his ends.

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Rabbit was overtaken by a Wildcat, who threatened to kill and eat him. The Rabbit said: “Do not kill me; I will bring you a turkey.” The Wildcat consented to let Rabbit try, so he ran into the woods to find the turkey, first telling the Wildcat to lie down and pretend he was dead.

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Rabbit soon found some turkeys and told them the Wildcat was dead and proposed that they all go and dance and sing around his body. The turkeys agreed and went with Rabbit and when they saw the Wildcat’s body stretched on the ground and his mouth and eyes looking white as if he were flyblown (for Rabbit had rubbed rotten wood on the edges of his eyes and mouth) they were satisfied that he was really dead. Rabbit took his place at the head of the Wildcat and began to beat his drum and to sing while the turkeys danced around him. After the song and dance had continued a while they heard Rabbit sing: “Jump up and catch the red leg, Jump up and catch the red leg.” “Why, he is dead and cannot jump,” they said, but since they objected, he promised not to say that any more. So Rabbit sang and drummed away and the turkeys again danced around their enemy’s body; but soon Rabbit sang in a low tone: “Jump up and catch the biggest, Jump up and catch the biggest.” The turkeys stopped their dance, but too late, for the Wildcat jumped up and caught the biggest gobbler. Rabbit ran away to the woods and the turkeys pursued him, threatening to kill him for his trickery. They chased him round and round the trees till at last one of the turkeys bit at his long tail and bit it off, and ever since that time all rabbits have had short tails.

WHEN BRER FROG GIVE A BIG DINING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 25–26. Date: 1900 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

In this tale, which demonstrates the trickster’s penchant for being ruled by his appetites rather than prudence, Brer Rabbit brings about his own downfall. First, by crashing a party lured by the smell of fried fish, and then by falling into a trap set with the same bait, Rabbit finds himself

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The South | When Brer Frog Give a Big Dining

literally out of his element. This narrative of the trickster tricked pits an elder’s wisdom against the brash schemes of a consummate African American con artist. In this case at least, the “spry old man” beats the young trickster. This triumph of the wisdom of age over the bravado of youth is echoed in “Are You Man?” (p. 220).

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rer Frog he think he give a big dining to all his friends, so he send out invitations to all his friends to come down and eat fried fish with him.

Brer Frog he invite Brer Fox and his wife, and Brer Wolf and his wife, and Brer Coon and his wife, and Brer Possum and his wife, but he don’ invite Brer Rabbit, Brer Frog don’, ’cause there be hard feelings between Brer Frog and Brer Rabbit from way back. When the creeters all went past Brer Rabbit’s house on their way to the dining, they ask Brer Rabbit, why he don’t go to Brer Frog’s dining? Brer Rabbit he say, he ain’ invited, and he ’low he ain’t powerful fond of fried fish nohow. So they pass on, and when they come to the branch [creek], they find Brer Frog frying fish over twenty little fires. Brer Frog he hop round from one fryingpan to the other, like a spry old man like he is. Directly Brer Rabbit he smell the fish frying where he set on the porch. It smell so powerful good, Brer Rabbit he just can’t stand it. He take his way down to the branch, and he see Brer Frog taking off the fish from his twenty little fires, and set it on the table. Brer Rabbit he slip into the swamp and make a big noise. The creeters they say, “What that!” Brer Rabbit he make a big noise. Once more Brer Fox he say, “Where we going fly to?” Brer Frog he say, “I know the best place for me to get at.” He just give one jump over all the creeters’ heads and go plunk into the water. Brer Terrapin he go slippin’ and slidin’ one side, then the other, and he go splash in the water; the other creeters, they just strike out for home. Brer Rabbit he go up to the table and he eat his fill of fried fish. Now Brer Frog are a mighty cold-blooded kind of a man; nobody ever see Brer Frog in a passion. Brer Frog’s eyes on the top of his head. All the time while Brer Rabbit was eating that fried fish, Brer Frog he set down in the water looking straight up at Brer Rabbit, and Brer Frog he was studying; but Brer Rabbit he don’t know that.

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Brer Frog he take it mighty hard, ’case Brer Rabbit break up his dining, and he study to hisself how he going punish Brer Rabbit. Sure enough, a week later, Brer Frog he send out invitations to all the other creeters to another dining. So the creeters all set out, and as they go past Brer Rabbit’s house they stop, and ask Brer Rabbit why he don’ go to Brer Frog’s dining? Brer Rabbit he say his mouth ain’t set for fried fish, and he ’low he powerful busy anyhow, and can’t leave home. The creeters they make haste, and when they get to the branch they see the bank all covered with little fires, and a pan of fish frying on every fire, and Brer Frog hopping from one frying-pan to the other, and turning the fish; and Brer Frog he hop up and whisper in the ear of each one of his guests. Then Brer Frog he set the table. Brer Rabbit he set upon his porch smoking his pipe, and the smell of the fish frying come up on the wind, and Brer Rabbit he just can’t stand it. He say he bound to set a tooth in that fish. So Brer Rabbit he go clipity clipity down to the branch, and he find the table done set, and it certainly do look powerful tempting. Brer Rabbit he go in the edge of the swamp and make a big noise; the creeters they just strike out and fly for home. Brer Frog he say, “I know the nighest place for me to get,” and he jumped plum over the table and go in the water “Kersplash!” Then Brer Rabbit he jump on the table. Now that just what Brer Frog know Brer Rabbit going do, and Brer Frog he done set the table on a plank, on the edge of the water, and he done put leaves and bresh all round the plank, so Brer Rabbit ain’ see how it done set on the water; and when Brer Rabbit jump on the plank, over it go, and Brer Rabbit and all the fishes go “Kersplash!” down to the bottom. Brer Frog he right down there, and Brer Frog he say, “Oho, Brer Rabbit, you is mighty kind to fetch my dinner down to me,” and Brer Frog he say, “You is my master many a day on land, Brer Rabbit, but I is your master in the water.” And Brer Frog he kill old Brer Rabbit and eat him up.

BOUQUI AND LAPIN: THE SMOKEHOUSE Tradition Bearer: Leona Edwards Claudel Source: Claudel, Calvin, and J.-M. Carrier. “Three Tales from the French Folklore of Louisiana.” Journal of American Folklore 56 (1943): 43–44. Date: 1943

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The South | Bouqui and Lapin: The Smokehouse

Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

The following tale is unusual in that Lapin the trickster demonstrates uncharacteristic restraint in satisfying his appetite. The act of sharing his secret for obtaining meat with his customary foil Bouqui is out of character also. More in keeping with the plot of the Lapin and Bouqui cycle, however, is the fact that Lapin escapes unscathed with his booty while Bouqui, as a consequence of his uncontrollable greed, is left with the blame for past and present crimes and rewarded with a beating in this variant of “The Wolf Overeats in the Cellar” (AT 41).

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ouqui, who was very poor, went to Lapin the rabbit’s house to eat supper. Bouqui said to Lapin: “Lapin, you surely make good gumbo; it has in it the best meat I’ve ever tasted. Where do you get such good meat?” Now at first Lapin did not wish to tell his comrade Bouqui where he got the meat, but he finally answered: “It’s smoked meat. If you can keep a secret, I’ll tell you where I get it. There’s a farmer nearby, an old French farmer, who has a smokehouse. In it are all sorts of hams and sausages. I got the meat from his smokehouse.” “Oh, I want to go get some of this smoked meat myself,” exclaimed Bouqui. “Lapin, you must show me how you do it.” “I cannot take you there,” began Lapin, “because you know how stupid you are, Bouqui. You’ll tell everybody in the neighborhood, and we’ll get caught. Besides you are too greedy; you’ll want to go every day.” “Please, Lapin; please take me along with you,” begged Bouqui. “All right,” finally gave in Lapin. “Come tomorrow and spend the night with me. We shall get up early when the roosters crow and pay the smokehouse a visit.” Bouqui arrived at Lapin’s house the next night very early, carrying along with him his blanket. After they were inside, Lapin said: “Now let’s go to bed, and when the roosters crow, we’ll get up and go to the smokehouse.” They went to bed; Lapin fell fast asleep. At about midnight he was awakened by a noise from the henhouse; the chickens were roosting in disorder and making a noise and cackling. Lapin went out to see. Bouqui was up and pushing a pole at the chickens to make the roosters crow. He was anxious to leave for the smokehouse.

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“Bouqui, let those chickens alone and come back to bed!” cried Lapin. Again Lapin fell sound asleep. Later he was awakened once more, this time by a loud cackling from the hens. “Bouqui, O Bouqui!” called Lapin; “it’s not time to go yet. I said to wait until the roosters crow. They will know when to crow. Then it will be time for us to leave.” Finally the roosters crowed. Bouqui and Lapin set out. In the gray light of the early morning Lapin saw Bouqui was carrying something. He asked: “What are you carrying, Bouqui?” “My blanket,” answered Bouqui. “But what are you going to do with that?” questioned Lapin. “Why, carry out sausages and hams,” said Bouqui. Then Lapin said in anger: “You are too greedy, Bouqui. We had better be careful not to get caught.” Bouqui entered first into the hole at the back of the smokehouse, and after him came Lapin. Bouqui spread his blanket on the ground in the middle of the smokehouse and began to select and pile up the hams. Lapin had taken one sausage and was ready to leave through the hole. He whispered to Bouqui: “Hurry, Bouqui; it’s time to leave.” “Yes, all right, but wait another moment,” answered Bouqui. Bouqui was now piling sausages on his blanket over the hams. It was now growing late, and the sun was about to come up. “Hurry, hurry, Bouqui,” cried Lapin from the outside where he was waiting. “I hear someone coming.” The farmer was coming. Bouqui had made a bundle of the pile of smoked meat. He first went out and began to tug, to get the load through the hole. As Bouqui pulled harder and harder, the more it seemed that the blanket of hams and sausages stuck on the inside. By then it was broad daylight; and up came the farmer, who exclaimed: “Ho! Ho! There, so you have been entering my smokehouse and stealing my meat.” He was carrying a switch. Bouqui wanted to leave but could not seem to let go the end of the blanket. The farmer caught him. He whipped and whipped Bouqui, as Lapin ran away.

JEAN SOT FEEDS COWS NEEDLES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Ray, Marie. “Jean Sotte Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 364.

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The South | Jean Sot Kills the Duck

Date: 1908 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: European American

The following narrative (a variant of AT1345, “Stupid Stories Depending on a Pun”) casts Jean Sot (French, “John the Fool”) in the numskull role once again. In this case, his linguistic misinterpretation has no saving grace.

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ean Sot’s old mother was in despair over the stupidity of her boy, but thought she would try him again, hoping he would do better. So calling him, and giving him some money, she said, “My son, I want a paper of needles, and you must go down the road to the village and buy me one, but do not lose it on the way.” Jean Sot promised to be careful and went off in high glee, for he liked to go on errands to the village. He knew just where to go; and, having counted out the money to the old dame who gave him the needles, he started down the lane which led to his home. He had not gone far when he met a number of cows, who, when they saw him, lifted their heads and cried, “A-moo, a-moo!” and turned into a barnyard. Jean Sotte, thinking they were calling him, followed; and when they continued to cry “A-moo!” he said, “Well, if it is the needles (a pun on French aiguille, “needle”) you want, here they are!” and he sprinkled them all over the straw they were eating. Then he went home; and when the old woman asked where the needles were she had sent him for, he said, “Mother, I obeyed you: I did not lose them, but, when the cows cried so for them, I was obliged to give them to them on their hay.”

JEAN SOT KILLS THE DUCK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Ray, Marie. “Jean Sotte Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 364–65. Date: 1908

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Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

Jean Sot commonly reveals his stupidity when justifying the logic that motivates his unconventional actions. In this narrative, however, he attempts to conceal a minor crime by committing and then confessing to a worse one.

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here was an old woman who had two sons—one so simple that he received the name of Jean Sotte, and the other so bright and intelligent that he was known as Jean Esprit. One day the old woman said to Jean Sotte, “My son, I am old and stiff, but you are young and active and can go on my errands; so go into the storeroom and bring me a bottle of wine you will find there.” Jean Sotte went to the storeroom, and, having found the bottle, he thought he would take out the cork and make sure it was wine; and when he had smelled it, he thought he would taste it to be sure it was all right; but the wine was so good and old, he soon felt very merry, and continued to drink until the bottle was quite empty. Now, in a corner of the room an old duck had made her nest in some straw; and when Jean Sotte began capering around, she cried out, “Quack, quack!”and flapped her wings, which so frightened him that he caught her by the neck, and wrung her head off, and seated himself on her eggs. The old woman, having waited some time for Jean Sotte’s return, determined to see what was keeping him. What was her surprise, on hobbling to the storeroom, to find her old duck dead and Jean Sotte sitting on her nest. “Silly boy!” she said, “why have you killed my duck, why are you sitting on the nest, and where is the bottle of wine you were to bring me?” “Mother,” said Jean Sotte, rolling his head and looking very sleepy, “I drank the wine; and when the old duck saw me, she cried out, and I knew she would tell you, so I killed her to keep her from telling; and, now she is dead, you will never know!”

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The South | Jean Sot and the Cowhide

JEAN SOT AND THE COWHIDE Tradition Bearer: Jack Vidrine Source: Claudel, Calvin. “Louisiana Tales of Jean Sot and Bouqui and Lapin.” The Southern Folklore Quarterly 8 (1944): 297–98. Date: 1944 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

In the opening episode of this Cajun comic tale, Jean Sot kills the family’s cow. In any other case, the misinterpretation of his mother’s instructions leading to this act would seem a willful attempt to misconstrue. In the case of Jean Sot, however, such behavior is consistent with the stock character. In a later episode in the tale, due to a misinterpretation of Jean’s words by a group of robbers, he turns folly to fortune. The following tale (1653F, “Numskull Talks to Himself and Frightens Robbers Away”) and motifs from it are found throughout the South. Foolish John and his mother lived by the bayou in Louisiana and they spoke French. He was such a foolish lad he misunderstood everything he was told.

“Foolish John, go get the cow by the bayou and drive her into the lot,” said his mother. In the French they spoke, “to drive” can also mean “to push.” So Foolish John went to fetch the wheelbarrow and rolled it out to where the cow was pasturing. He placed her into the wheelbarrow and rolled her home. When he reached home, he was panting and sweating like a horse. “What in the world are you doing, Foolish John?” questioned his mother. “Well, Mama, you told me to push the cow here, and that’s what I’m doing.” “Fool! Will you ever learn anything!” exclaimed the exasperated woman. “Now take that cow out of there and go milk her.” As with many words that have double meanings, “to milk” also meant “to shoot.”

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While his mother was busy inside, Foolish John went to get the gun and shot the cow. When he appeared inside without the milk, his mother became worried. “Foolish John, where is the milk for supper?” she asked. “Why, Mama, I thought you meant for me to shoot the cow with a gun.... That’s what I did,” replied the lad. “Ah, foolish son!” she cried, “killing our only cow.... Now you must go skin her and sell the hide so we can buy food, because we don’t have milk.... Hurry now!” Foolish John fetched the big butcher knife, strung the cow up to a tree by her hind legs and skinned her—head, feet and everything. He put the hide over his head and set out for town. As he walked under the hide, he looked like a strange beast. It was getting dark and growing cold, for it was almost winter. He reached a tree that was losing its leaves. The tree groaned and shivered as the cold wind whistled through its limbs. “That poor tree must be cold,” remarked Foolish John to himself. “I’ll cover it with this hide to keep it warm.” He began climbing the tree with the cowhide still on his head. When he was up in the top ready to place the hide over the tree, a band of seven men suddenly came and sat down in a circle under the tree. They were robbers with a huge sack of money. The chief began to divide the money. “This is for me.... That’s for you,” counted the chief as he placed each robber’s share before him. Everytime he said this, Foolish John would pluck a hair from his cowhide and cry, “And one hair for me-eee!” “Listen, listen, the Old Devil!” would exclaim one of the robbers, and the chief would start to divide again. The dividing and counting continued far into the night, and each time the chief would say, “This is for me.... That’s for you,” Foolish John would add while plucking out hair, “And one hair for me-eee!” Finally when they had all the money spread out, and Foolish John had picked his cowhide clean, he suddenly lost his grip on the limb he was holding and crashed to the ground right into the middle of the circle of thieves. When they beheld this strange apparition with horns, they all took to their heels and fled. Foolish John gathered up the money, placed the hide over the tree and went back home. “Well, how much did you get for the hide?” inquired his mother. “I collected a dollar for every hair on the hide,” answered Foolish John, laying down the heavy sack load of money. “Foolish John!” exclaimed the mother with joy, “sometimes I think you are not so foolish!”

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The South | Lazy Jack and His Calf Skin

LAZY JACK AND HIS CALF SKIN Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 343–46. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

Jack inherits a calf at his parents’ death, but because of his lazy disposition, he lets his calf starve to death. He is rejected by his brothers Will and Tom but becomes wealthy in spite of his laziness. Unlike the crafty Jack seen in the other Jack tales in this collection, the protagonist of this version of “The Magic Cowhide” (AT1535) virtually falls into good fortune rather than striving to make his way in the world.

T

hey was an old man and old woman had three sons, Jack, Will and Tom. Jack was awful lazy. So they didn’t give Jack anything when they see they had to die, with the exception of one little old poor calf and Jack was too lazy to feed hit. So the other boys was over in the new ground a clearin’ away and Jack’s little old calf were over there a buzzin’ round eatin’ lin bushes and such, and they cut a tree down and killed hit. So they come on over to the house and said, “Killed your little old calf over there, Jack. You can go over and skin hit and eat hit or just let hit lay there.” “Bedads, I’ll go over and skin hit,” says Jack. So he went over and skinned hit and come on back and grilled the meat. He sit there in a corner and grilled and grilled hit ’til he got the meat all eat up. When he got the meat all eat up the hide was good and dry. So he got the hide down and he sewed hit all up good and he left the tail on and filled hit with old shucks and cobs so when he shuck hit he could make hit rattle good. So he took hit by the tail and started off down the road one morning, a draggin’ hit all day until late that evenin’ he come to a house. He called, “Hello! Can I stop here this evenin’?”

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Woman come to the door, says, “Yes, I guess ye can. My husband’s gone but Mr. Passenger’s here and I guess ye can stop the night.” So she met Jack at the door and jest sent him on up stairs. Didn’t offer him no supper or nothin’. So, instead of gettin’ in bed, Jack lay down on the floor and peeked thru a knot hole to see what they all did there and he saw her fix the finest supper. They jest had everything that cud be thought of, baked pig and stuffed goose and roast chicken and pies and cakes. And her and Mr. Passenger sat down and started eatin’. So Jack was a lyin’ up there jest starved to death. So they eat all they cud eat, then took and put hit all away and got out all kinds of drinks. Jack watched good where they put hit. So they was sittin’ a drinkin’ and they heard her husband come a whistlin’. So the old man said, “Where’ll I git. Where’ll I git.” She said, “Jump in that big chest and I’ll lock you up.” So he run jumped in the chest and she run got all the drinks put away and she run jumped in the bed. So the husband come in and said, “Old woman, got anything cooked to eat around here?” “Yes, I guess you’ll find some bread on the table,” she says. So Jack saw the man a eatin’ down there so he dragged the cowhide around and old man said, “What’s that?” Woman says, “Little old crazy boy stopped here to stay the night. Guess that’s him makin’ that noise.” Man said, “What’s his name?” “Says his name’s Jack.” So the man hollered, “Jack, come down here and have some supper with me.” Jack says, “Don’t care if I do.” So Jack didn’t eat two bites of the bread ’fore he stuck his hand back and shuck that cowhide so hit made a noise. So he fired in on the old cowhide and went to beatin’ on hit. “Shut your mouth, you blabber mouthed thing,” he says. Old man says, “What’s hit sayin’, Jack? What’s hit sayin’?” Jack says, “Oh I don’t want to tell, the big mouthed thing. I’m afraid hit will make the woman of the house mad.” Man says, “Now, you go ahead and tell me. I don’t care for the woman of the house. You tell me what hit said.” Jack says, “Well, hit says over there in that buffet there’s roast pig and stuffed goose and roast chicken and pies and cakes.” Man says, “Is they, old woman?” “Yes, little bit I was a savin’ fur my kinfolks.” Man says, “Jack and I er your kinfolks, you bring ’em out here.” So the old woman got up and set ’em out all the good eatings. They didn’t eat long ’fore Jack reached out and shuck the little old calf ag’in. Said, “You shut your mouth, you blabber mouthed thing.”

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The South | Lazy Jack and His Calf Skin

Old man says, “What’s hit saying Jack? What’s hit sayin?” “Oh, I don’t want to tell,” says Jack, “I’m afraid hit will make the woman of the house mad.” “Now, you go ahead and tell me,” says the man. “Well, hit says over in that cabinet is whiskey and brandy and gin and all manner of drinks.” “Is they, old woman?” “Yes, little I was savin’ for my kinfolks.” “Well, Jack and me ’er your kinfolks, you bring ’em out here.” So she brung ’em out. The man begin to git a little foxy. “What’ll you sell that fer?” “Oh, I couldn’t sell hit.” “I’ll give you five hundred guineas for hit.” “Well,” Jack says, “if you give me that chest over there and five hundred guineas you kin have hit.” (My mammy always told that a five dollar bill was as much as a guinea.) So old woman says, “You can’t sell that old chest. That’s a chest my poor old father give me.” Man says, “I bought that chest and I paid fer hit too, and I’m a goin’ to sell hit.” So the man and Jack traded and the man helped Jack git the old chest up on his shoulders. So Jack carried the old chest a little ways. He didn’t want hit ’cept to tease the Old Passenger. He said, “I’ll jest drap this in the well.” Old Passenger says, “Oh don’t put me in the well. I’ll poke you out five hundred guineas if you’ll not put me in the well.” So Jack put down the chest and took the five hundred guineas that the Old Passenger poked out. Jack jest took hit and went on. Old Passenger didn’t have sense enough to say if you’ll let me out. So some people come along and heard the Old Passenger a hollerin’ and they run back to a house and said they was a takin’ chest up the road. They let the Old Passenger out. Jack went on home and he had him a load of money. So his brothers said, “Jack, where’d you git all that money.” “Sold my cowhide, how’d you think I’d get hit?” So his brothers run out and shot some big fine horses and skun ’em. And they didn’t give ’em time to dry or nothin! They jest sewed ’em up and started. So the flies just got after them and they drug ’em around and nobody wouldn’t let ’em come in with old green flies. So they come home and says, “Jack, we’re a-goin’ to kill you. You can have your choice. You can be shot, hung, or drown.”

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He said, “Well, I reckon you kin jest drown me.” So they sewed ’im up in a sheet and Jack walked with ’em about a mile down to the river. So when they got down there they poked Jack in but they didn’t have no string to tie him. Their conscious was so guilty over killin’ their brother neither one of them wanted to go back to the house to git a string. “Well, ye can both go back,” says Jack, “I’ll not leave.” So while Jack was a layin’ there a man come up the road with a big immense sheep drove. “Stranger, what are you doin’ here?” “I’m fixin’ to fly to heaven,” says Jack. “In a few minutes two little angels will come and fly up to Heaven with me.” So the man said, “I’m old now and if you’ll let me go to heaven in your place I’ll give you my sheep drove.” So Jack says, “All right,” and he jumped out and drove his sheep up the road a bit and then he come back and helped the old man git in the sheet. He saw his brothers a-comin’ and he hide in the thicket. So they come on down and tied up the sheet and throwed hit in the river. So then Jack started to holler, “Sheep! Sheep! Open up the gates and let me in.” “Where’d ye git them sheep?” says his brothers. “Got ’em in the river. Where did you think I got ’em?” “Oh, Jack, you reckon we could git a sheep drove?” “I reckon so, but I’m not a-goin’ to fix up your sheets. You’ll have to yourselves. I’ll throw you in. I could have got a lot more if you’d throwed me out in the river farther.” So they throwed one of the brothers and he begin to kick about. “What’s he doin’ that fur?” says the other. “Oh, he’s gathering his sheep.” “Oh, Jack, hurry up and throw me in fore he gits ’em all. Throw me farther.” So Jack throwed him in and then he driv his sheep drove home and when I left there Jack was rich.

TI JEAN CANNOT TELL A LIE Tradition Bearer: Valerie Green Source: Personal communication Date: 2000 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

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The South | Boudreaux and the Cottonmouth

Ti Jean (French, “Little John”) is a trickster figure found throughout French-descended traditions in the Americas. Unlike many such figures, this character has successfully survived in contemporary joke repertoires. Compare this character to Boudreaux in the narrative “Boudreaux and the Cottonmouth” (p. 119).

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arly one morning, Ti Jean was walking along the bank of the bayou behind his house. All of a sudden, he noticed that the family outhouse, located right on the bank, was sliding into the bayou. He decided to help it out and picked up a big tree limb and hit the outhouse til it fell into the water. Later, when Ti Jean got home his papa met him at the door and said, “Ti Jean, did you knock that outhouse into the bayou?” “Papa,” the boy answered, “like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie. I did it.” “Ti Jean, come with me to the woodshed. You are going to get the whipping of your life!” Ti Jean looked up at his father and said, “Papa, when George Washington told his papa that he had chopped down the cherry tree, his papa didn’t give him a whipping.” “Mais no (French, “But no”), Ti Jean, but George Washington’s papa wasn’t in that cherry tree when he cut it down, either.”

BOUDREAUX AND THE COTTONMOUTH Tradition Bearer: Lisa Smalley Source: Personal communication Date: 1985 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

The stock character of “Cajun” in jokes, as folklorist Barry Jean Ancelet has pointed out, can speak neither English nor French, is incapable of

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being educated, and is rural and stubborn. Boudreaux is far and away the supreme stock Cajun who can be a wily trickster or an impregnable numskull. In contemporary intra-group narratives, however, Boudreaux’s foolishness is intended to attack the stereotype rather than the stereotyped.

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oudreaux tell this story ’bout when he been fishin’ down at da bayou one night and he done run outta bait. He got ready bout to leave when he seen a big snake with a frog in his mouth, so he decide to steal dat frog from de snake. Dat snake, he be a cottonmouth water moccasin, so he have to be real careful not to git bit. He sneak up behind dat snake and grab him round da neck. Dat snake squirm and twist tryin’ to git loose from Boudreaux, and he don’t let go of dat frog. No. Now, Boudreaux need dat frog, so reach into his back pocket and pull out a little bottle of whiskey he keep in there. Den he pour a little bit o’ dat whiskey in da corner o’ dat snake’s mouth just to make him relax a little bit. Da snake swallow down dat whiskey and turn loose of dat frog. Boudreaux take da frog outta da snake’s mouth and let da cottonmouth loose and he swim away slow and happy. Den, he put the frog on his hood and goes back to fishin’. In a few minutes, Boudreaux hear a splashing down in the water by him and feel somethin’ bumpin’ against his leg. He look down, and what you t’ink he see? It dat water moccasin an’ he lookin’ up at Boudreaux and got another frog in his mouth.

CAJUN COCKFIGHT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Personal communication Date: 2001 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: Cajun

The following joke puts together two regional stereotypes: the Aggies (students and graduates of Texas A&M University who are commonly

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The South | ’Coon in the Box

cast in the numskull role in the South and Southwestern regions) and the Cajuns, who (as noted in the introduction to “Boudreaux and the Cottonmouth,” p. 119) have been similarly stereotyped. In this contemporary trickster tale, however, the Aggies, the Cajun bettors, and (one can assume) a Cajun detective turn the tables on detractors with the aid of the Mafia.

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he Louisiana State Police received reports of illegal cock fights being held in the area around Lafayette, and duly dispatched the infamous Detective Desormeaux to investigate. Desormeaux reported to his sergeant the next morning. “Dey is t’ree main groups in dis cock fightin’,” Desormeaux began. “Good work Desormeaux! Who are they?” the sergeant asked. Desormeaux replied confidently, “De Aggies, de Cajuns, and de Mafia.” Puzzled, the sergeant asked, “How did you find that out in one night?” “Well,” said Desormeaux, “I went down and done seed dat cock fight, I knowed de Aggies was involved when a duck was entered in de fight.” The sergeant nodded. “Ok, I’ll buy that, but what about the others?” Desormeaux intoned knowingly, “Well, I knowed de Cajuns was involved when somebody bet on de duck.” “Ah,” sighed the sergeant. “And how did you deduce that the Mafia was involved?” “De duck won.”

’COON IN THE BOX Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 265–66 Date: 1925 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

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In this classic example of the John and Master cycle, Jack uses his repertoire of eavesdropping, wit, and even sham fortune telling to advance and maintain his position with Master. When at last he believes his subterfuge has been found out, he significantly saves the day by his use of a racist and derogatory term for African American; thus, from weakness and apparent denigration yet another advantage emerges. The tale is commonly found as an episode of “Dr. Know-All” (AT 1641; the motif is N688).

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hite man had a slave; his name was Jack. This slave let on he know everything. Wasn’t a thing he didn’t let on he knew. Every night this man would talk to his wife. He’d say, “Y’know Jack, he’s a smart slave, smartest slave I ever knew.” One night he was talkin’ to his wife, and Jack he was eavesdroppin’. Man says, “Y’know, wife, the slaves are about done in de bottoms, I think I’ll send ’em down to de new lands.” So nex’ day he goes to Jack an’ says, “Oh, Jack.” Jack says, “Yassir, master.” “What’s on fo’ t’day.” Jack says, “Well de slaves done pretty good in de bottoms, t’morrer y’ goin’ send us to de new lands.” So de master said to his wife, “Y’know, dat’s a smart slave. I asked him today what I was gonna do, an’ he tol’ me jus’ what I tol’ you las’ night. Said slaves done so good in de bottoms gonna send ’em to de new lands.” So nex’ mornin’ Master said to Jack, “Say, Jack, hitch up fifteen or sixteen wagons, I’m gonna send ’em to de grocery.” So Jack said, “Yassir, master, I know ’xactly what you want.” So de man said to his wife, “You know dat slave’s a fortune teller.” So dey goes to town, an’ in town de master meets another plantation owner. So dis man had a barrel an’ dere was a ’coon in dat barrel. So Jack’s master said, “Say, I bet you I kin tell you ’xactly what’s in dat barrel.” De other man says, “Whut you bet?” So de master says, “Le’s bet my plantation ’gainst yours.” So de other plantation owner says, “All right, my plantation ’gainst yours. Now whut’s in de barrel?” So de master says to Jack, “Come here, Jack.” Jack says, “Whut you want, master?” Master says, “Y’got t’ tell me whut’s in dis man’s barrel.”

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The South | The Buck Fight

Jack says, “I got t’ tell you whut’s in dis here barrel?” De master says, “Yes, or you’re a dead man.” So Jack commenced scratchin’ his head. He says, “Off it right now, cause he’s wool gatherin’.” So he couldn’t guess whut was in de barrel. He says to his master, “Send to town an’ git me twelve deck o’ cards.” Dey got him de cards. He tore open a deck. He wanted to whisper. He tear open another deck. He wanted to whisper. Den he says, “Aha, master, git me another twelve decks.” So he wanted to whisper. He tore open one deck after de other. Den he say, “Well, oh, sen’ git me twelve mo’.” So he looked through eleven decks, den he fell back against a tree an said, “Well, oh master,” an’ he shook his head, “y’ caught de ’coon [derogatory term for African American] at las’.” De master won de bet an’ he said to de other plantation owner, “I tol’ you he could do it, I tol’ you he could do it.” Ol’ Jack he ups an’ says, “I could ha’ tell you when I fust cooked up here, but I only wanted to have some fun. I know dat was a racoon in dat barrel.”

THE BUCK FIGHT Tradition Bearer: Allen Chesser Source: Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 414–15. Date: ca. 1914 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: European American

During the mating season, bucks (male deer) fight for territory and mating rights to does (female deer) by clashing antlers in the fashion described in this personal experience narrative. Injuries to the deer are rare, but such accounts often provide raw material for tall tales.

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ew hunters are so fortunate as to witness the sort of affair that Allen Chesser here describes.

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“I seen two of buck hitch an’ fight one time, to see which one wuz the best man. I wuz in gunshot of ’em at the time. I wuz a-huntin’ on Black Jack Island, and it wuz soon one mornin’. I got up in gunshot of one buck. He raised ’is head up an’ looked down the swamp, an’ I knowed ’e seen somethin’. There wuz another buck, he’d come out an’ wuz a-watchin’ this un. This un wuz standin’ right still. I knowed ’e couldn’t git away without my shootin’ of ’im, an’ I thought I’d watch an’ wait. “Wal, when ’e started, he come right on out. An’ I soon saw he didn’t see me. He wuz lookin’ right at the other one. He come up within, I reckon, ten or fifteen steps of the other one, an’ ’e stopped again. The other hadn’t moved. He stood right there with ’is head raised up an’ ’is horns a-glitterin’. They stood still, I reckon, fer as much as a minute. All at once, that un that had come out of that point, begun to circle. Started ’is circle right around ’im. Went aroun’, I expec’, two or three times, an’ ev’ry circle he’d come in closeter. “An’ ’e got ’is circle out, the last circle he made aroun’. I suppose he wuz within five or six yards. His hair wuz jest turned the wrong way, bristled back. An’ ’e got right in front of ’im, an’ made a dash jest like that, an’ the other one, he catched ’im. I thought I’d see a big scuffle, but I didn’t. It happened so quick I couldn’t tell, but one whipped, an’ I don’t know which one it wuz. But there wuz a poppin’ of horns. The one that run, he done some runnin’, too. He got away from that place. “The one that wuz left, he stood there lookin’ after ’im, jest thataway. An’ I got ’im to tannin’. I put a ball right through ’im. He run, I reckon, fifteen or twenty steps, an’ tumbled right over. “That happened on Black Jack Island, on a point that’s called Bee Tree Point, about, I reckon, three an’ a half miles from the east end.”

A SIGHT OF ALLIGATORS Tradition Bearer: Allen Chesser Source: Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 417–18. Date: ca. 1914 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: European American

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The South | A Sight of Alligators

“A Sight of Alligators” is another personal experience narrative that borders on the tall tale genre. Note the validating devices included, such as a willingness to admit that the story is unbelievable and calling on an eyewitness to the events.

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n the following day our talk was still of reptiles, and particularly of one whose size and habits lend it distinction above all others of the swamp. There is also a melancholy interest in the present story, for such a sight as Allen Chesser here describes, harking back to days of long ago, will never again be witnessed in our day. Years before I knew him, other life-long residents of the swamp had told me how it used to seem, at times, as if one could walk across an Okefinokee lake on Gator backs. So the abundance reported here is readily comprehensible; it was before the days when hide-hunters had so greatly reduced the ranks of this interesting saurian. Later in the season I visited the exact scene of the story, and saw how accurately the spot had been described. Even within the past ten years or so, during a single night Allen Chesser and a companion killed fifty-eight Alligators on Buzzard Roost Lake, which is scarcely a quarter of a mile in its greatest diameter. “Now I want to tell you about a sight of Alligators I seed one time. I’m satisfied there ain’t many people willin’ to believe such a story as that, but it’s true. That occurred at the Buzzard Roost Lake. Here the lake [scratching a diagram on the ground], an’ here’s a little run goes out about thirty yards broad. An’ right here at the en’ is a little round lake. These Alligators, I suppose, they must ’a’ driv’ all the fish out of this big lake, an’ down this road [the outlet]. It was in between daylight an’ sunrise. I heerd the racket before I got there. Me an’ my brother Sam was together. “I reckon there was five er six hunderd birds aroun’ the edge of that lake scoggins (herons), blue an’ white uns, an’ all kinds. “We heerd the racket, an’ moved on cautiously. We didn’t know whut it meant, but we could hear the water jest a-churnin’. Our business was to go ahuntin’ on Number One Island, an’ that was the only way we could go. We got in sight, an’ there was a sight to look at. I never seed such a sight before in my life. “The birds, Preachers, they’re a powerful shy bird. They cared nothin’ a-tall fer us. Run our boat right in the edge of the lake. The Alligators cared nothin’ fer us. There must ’a’ been three hunderd uv ’em. They’d catch fish that long

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[indicating about a foot and a half]. Ef they’d catch a perch, you’d hear ’im flutterin’ in their mouth-thrrr, jest like a-that. An’ the funny part, there’d be a Gator sometimes that high [indicating about a yard] out of the water an’ ernother un on to ’is tail. He’d think it was a fish. “When he’d catch a fish, jest stick ’is head up thataway, an’ ernother un tryin’ to git it away from ’im. They’d go right under our boat. Wouldn’ pay no attention to us. We stayed there till the sun was about an hour high. “We fell to shootin’, an’ it was either fourteen or sixteen we killed before they took any notice a-tall. An’ when they did take a notion to git away, there was a sight to look at when they commenced smellin’ the blood. They started down that road. They was that thick, I could ’a’ walked down that road on Gator heads. My brother up yonder’ll identify to it. It’s true. “We went on then; they give us space. The scoggins, when the Gators begun to leave, they lef’ too. They was there from Salt-water Cranes right down to little fellers. They picked up the fish aroun’ the edge. Them Gators had the little fish run out, an’ they’d lodge aroun’ the edge. “Whenever one Gator ’u’d freeze on to ernother un’s tail, it was a sight. He’d jump plumb out of the water. “Ev’rything was agitated that mornin’, the birds an’ the Alligators, an’ even I was amused. “There must ’a’ been five hunderd of the birds. Even the Injun Pullet (green heron) was there, a-gittin’ his mess.”

LIES TOO FAR APART Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 266. Date: 1925 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: African American

In this John and Master tale, the slave is again demonstrated to be superior to the master. “Jack” rescues “Marster” by manufacturing, on the spot,

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The South | The Arkansas Shakes

a scenario to fit the latter’s implausible lie. The bondsman then takes the liberty of admonishing his owner to learn to lie better in the future.

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fellow had his lady along with him n’ they all went together. They prove everything by Jack.

So this fellow said to the crowd, “Today I shot a deer through the foot an’ head all at the same time an’ killed it, didn’t I do that, Jack?” So they asked Jack to explain how that happened. Jack scratched his head an’ said, “Well, the deer was runnin’ an’ the hounds was chasin’. So the deer stopped to listen t’ see where the hound was an’ just then put its foot up to its ear. That’s when Marster shot him an’ the bullet went through the foot an’ through his head.” So when Jack an’ the master was by themselves, Jack said. “Look here, Marster, I want you to get your damn lies closer together.”

THE ARKANSAS SHAKES Tradition Bearer: William D. Naylor Source: Bowman, Earl. “Interview of William D. Naylor.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: William D. Naylor National Origin: European American

Using a common theme for the tall tale, the narrator offers an exaggerated comment on the Arkansas environment through a tale describing a distinctive illness brought on by living in the state. The narrator introduces specific names and locations to establish his credibility.

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Such validating devices coupled with the gradual introduction of exaggeration are the marks of the well-crafted tall tale.

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ne of Doc. Porter’s most powerful and popular Kickapoo Indian medicines, that we used to sell when I was with his medicine show, was his “Chill and Ague Eliminator.” It was put up in a square pint bottle and Doc guaranteed that two bottles would drive out the worst case of chills on the market. Whether it would or not I don’t know. But I do know it was mighty potent and...bitter. I think it was probably a straight “emulsion” of quinine and whiskey and the directions told the “patient” to take enough of it before his chill started to make him go to sleep. Doc’s theory was, no doubt, that if a person about to have a chill could be gotten drunk enough to go to sleep he’d sleep through his chill period and if he did have one in his sleep, he’d never know he had it when he waked up and naturally think he had missed it entirely and was cured! Doc’s medicine was strong but it wouldn’t have worked on the kind of chills people got down in the Ozark country of Arkansas, South Missouri and over in the Indian Territory where I spent a lot of time in the carnival business and exhibiting “dancing turkeys” and other things at country fairs. Down in that country people didn’t call chills and ague, “chills and ague”; they called it the “shakes.” And that was the right name. For when a man with the “shakes” started to shake, he shook! He couldn’t stop shaking till the chill was over. There were two kinds, the “every-other-day shakes,” and the “every-day shakes.” I had both kinds. They started on me as the every-other-day kind and after a week or two turned into the every-day kind, then switched back and forth that way, first one sort and then the other till I finally got rid of them. The “shakes” were so common in the Ozark country along back in the 1890s, about the time the Star [Gang?] was being busted up in the Indian Territory and Al [Jennings?] was holding up the M. K. & T. trains, that practically everybody would have them some time or other. And people would talk about their “shakes” with a sort of pride, something like a lot of people like to talk in these later days of their “operations” after they’ve been to the hospital and had something cut out. The harder a man shook when he had the “shakes” the prouder he seemed to be!

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The South | The Arkansas Shakes

That vanity of affliction, you might say, brought about one of the queerest contests that was ever pulled off, I suppose. To me, and I saw it, it had frog-jumping matches, horn toad races, cock-roach fights, and all that stuff beaten a mile. It was out in the Arkansas River bottomlands country not far from Van Buren, during the fall of 1897 or 1896, if I remember right. Anyhow, I know it was in the fall for two reasons, first because the fall was when people had most of their shakes, and the pecans were ripe. Pecans, you know grow naturally on the river bottomlands down in that country and the harvest of nuts adds quite a bit to the incomes of the natives who shake them down out of the trees and sell them. There were a couple of brothers-in-law, had married sisters, who lived on adjoining farms and like is sometimes the case among country people they suffered from a sort of mutual jealousy. Their names were Toliver Green and Hank Breckenridge. Each thought his hound dogs were better than the other’s hound dogs, that his hogs grew faster and fatter, his cow gave more milk, his mule could kick harder, or he could shoot a squirrel out of a taller tree with a single ball rifle, or excel in some other way—and the result was a continual boasting when together. They both happened to get the shakes at the same time and it happened too, that their chills ran on the same hourly schedule and would hit them at about the same time each day. Toliver Green vowed that the chills he had were the hardest chills any man in Arkansas ever had or ever could have; Breckenridge had the same opinion and made the same boast about his own shakes. The result was that they agreed to match “shakes” and Green challenged Breckenridge to shake it out in a pecan tree! Each was to climb a pecan tree just as his chill was about due to start and see which shook the tree cleanest of pecans before it was over. The shaking match took place in Toliver Green’s pasture in the Arkansas River bottoms. It was well advertised and a big crowd of natives came to see it. An old Justice of the Peace (I don’t recall his name) was to judge the contest. Although it was my chill day too, I went out to see it, and it was one of the queerest contests I ever witnessed. Green and Breckenridge picked out a couple of good tall pecan trees; each climbed his tree, straddled a limb, wrapped his legs around the trunk of the tree and started to shake...and after each started he couldn’t stop till his chill had run its course. Well, at first those darned pecans began to sort of dribble down out of the trees, like slow rain or hail, then as the chills got to work in earnest and speeded up Green and Breckenridge’s shakes the pecans were coming down in a regular machine-gun tattoo as they hit the ground.

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It lasted for an hour and then each climbed down...and there wasn’t a pecan left an either tree! So, the old Justice of the Peace declared it a draw...and that’s they way it ended. It was kind of funny seeing those two leather-[cheeked?] farmers up in those pecan trees with the “shakes,” the pecans raining down on the ground...I was sort of glad Doc Porter’s “Eliminator” wasn’t too all-fired potent—in Arkansas.

VOICES IN THE FRYING PAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 261. Date: 1925 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

This tall tale (AT 1889F, “Frozen Words”), masquerading at first as a personal experience narrative, contrasts the narrator’s native region, the South, with the region “far up north.” The residents of the North are characterized as speaking an incomprehensible language, and the climate is indicated as being so cold that words freeze on being uttered.

I

have been so far up north until I couldn’t understand anything anybody said. I got a gang of fryin’ pans an’ everybody I would meet I would hold it in front of them an’ ketch their voices. The voices froze in the fryin’ pan an’ said, “Good morning.”

THE BENT GUN Tradition Bearer: John Campbell Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 374.

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The South | The Marvelous Potato

Date: 1923 Original Source: Tennessee National Origin: European American

According to the narrator, this tall tale (“Gun Barrel Bent to Make Spectacular Shot,”AT1890E and motif X1122.3.1) is typical of those performed among men as they sat around seeing “who could tell the biggest [lie].” Hunting in this community and during this time period was not only a supplement to farming but a means of establishing status among one’s peers by demonstrating woodcraft. The bent gun used to shoot around corners, trees, or, as in this case, mountains is a common tall tale motif.

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here was a man use to hunt on a little old round mountain and they was a deer there and jest couldn’t git it. He chase it and chase and it ’ud go round and round the mountain and he couldn’t git clost enough to hit it. So he went on home and made the barrel of his gun jest to the curve of the mountain and he went on back to where he could see the deer and then he fired and after a while here come the deer jest a splittin’ past him and then he heard the bullet jest a whistling after the deer and they went round that little old mountain two or three times that away, but after a while the bullet ketched up to the deer and kill it and he took it on home.

THE MARVELOUS POTATO Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 260. Date: 1925 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: African American

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Tall tales often focus on the environment: its rigors, unique qualities, or bounty. Such is the case the following narrative of soil rich enough to produce a gargantuan potato. As with many of the tales of this type, it is introduced as a personal experience narrative in order to encourage initial belief until the borders of credibility snap with the discovery of a trail leading into the tuber. Variants of the narrative (AT 1860D, “The Marvelous Vegetable”) are distributed internationally.

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y daddy growed potatoes once an’ he had one that was so big he said, “Mama, go out an’ see the potato.” So they got plowin’ up around that potato, they took two mules an’ run up to dat potato. It was rough on the mules. So they got a big whup to whup those mules. They thought it might be a root. No, it wasn’t no root. They kept on an’ kept on. Pretty soon they found a trail. There was a hole in the groun’. Then they come to some pig tracks. They was another hole an’ they was hogs up there in that hole way up in that tater. Them hogs wouldn’t never get hungry. It was a sow an’ twenty-four pigs.

THE KING AND OLD GEORGE BUCHANAN Tradition Bearer: Susie Wilkenson Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 370–71. Date: 1923 Original Source: Tennessee National Origin: Anglo American

The historical George Buchanan (1506–1582) was a man of letters: a poet, politician, and tutor to James VI of Scotland. Buchanan was a notorious social critic of high Catholic officials and Mary Queen of Scots, as well as an early supporter of the Reformation. The anecdotes

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The South | The King and Old George Buchanan

of Buchanan that captured the folk imagination, however, are more likely to have circulated orally and to have been influenced by “The Witty and Entertaining Exploits of George Buchanan, Commonly Called the King’s Fool,” which is found in an original London manuscript dated 1725 and another British edition probably printed in 1850. There is also “The Witty Exploits of Mr. George Buchanan, the King’s Fool,” included in Sir George Douglas’ 1901 Scottish Fairy and Folktales published in the United States. In both his folk and official biographies, however, George Buchanan gains fame for exposing and defeating folly by recourse to wit.

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n olden times they was a king (jest a king of the United States, I reckon— that’s jest the way they told hit) and they was old George Buchanan, he was called the king’s fool, and he didn’t like the way the king made the rules. The king made a law that anyone come in and asked him to pardon ’em he’d pardon ’em and not law ’em. George Buchanan didn’t like this law, so he kept a doin’ things and then askin’ the king to pardon him. Finally at last he come in and told the king to pardon him fer knockin’ a man’s hat off the bridge and the king did and then George said, “His head was in hit.” But the king had done pardoned him and couldn’t do nothing. The king told him he’d behead him if he didn’t come to the king’s house to-morrow at noon, “Clothed and onclothed, riding and walking.” So George tore one breech leg, one shoe and one sock, one half his shirt. He bridled his old ram sheep and put a saddle on hit and throwed one leg over hit and time of day come he went hoppin’ up to the king’s door. So the king says, “I thought I told you to come clothed and onclothed and a ridin’ and a walkin’ both.” “I did, sir,” says George. “Part of me’s clothed, part of me’s onclothed, one of my legs rode and one walked.” So the king took him to be his fool but before he took him he went to George’s house; wasn’t anyone there but George’s sister who was in back room. King says, “Where’s your mammy?” and George says, “She took some honey to go to town to buy some sweetenin’.” (Took some honey and went to git some sugar.) He headed the king that way. “Where’s your poppy?” “He’s gone to the woods. What he kills he’ll throw away and what he don’t kill he’ll bring back.” (He uz picking off lice.) “What’s your sister doin’?”

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“She’s in the back room mournin’ fer what she did last year.” (She uz having a baby.) You see George headed (out-witted) the king every time. So George, he was called the king’s fool. So he tried to do one thing and another to make the king make good laws. The king had a law that a man could burn his own house down anytime he had a mind to. So George built a house next to the king’s and filled hit with shavin’s. King says, “George, what er you doin’?” George says, “I’m fixin’ to burn my house.” King says, “George, you can’t do that, hit’ll ketch my house.” George says, “Hit’s the law.” So king says, “If you won’t burn hit I’ll pay you a good price.” George says, “All right, if you make a law that you can’t burn a house without you tear hit down and pile hit up.” That’s the law now. The king keep a pardonin’ George fer things he’d do, and after awhile he told him that whatever George wished he could have. So George wished to be the king and the king his fool. So the king says, “George, you headed me all the time, now you got my seat.” So George sat up there a while and then give hit back to the king if the king ’ud promise not to grant nothing until he seed what he was a grantin’. So the king told him, “Now, George, you leave here and don’t you show yourself on Scotland land anymore.” So George he left and put England dirt in the bottom of his shoes and got England dirt and put in his hat and he come where they was havin’ court, and the king said, “Fetch him here; I told him I’d behead him if he ever stood on Scotland land anymore.” And they went and fetched him and he says, “I’m standing on England land and livin’ under England land.” So he headed the king agin. And the king never could head George and George never would let the king make no bad laws.

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 365–66. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: European American

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The South | Jack and the Beanstalk

In this version of “The Boy Steals the Giant’s Treasure” (AT 328), best known in English-speaking tradition as “Jack and the Beanstalk,” the protagonist is not the victim of an apparently foolish trade. Instead, an abusive grandmother sets the plot into action. As with the other European tales adopted into the repertoires of the southern highlands, the circumstances of the tale are localized to an American rural setting rather than the vaguely medieval one of European variants.

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nce there was a little boy and he didn’t have no mother or no father and his grandmother was a raising him and she ’uz awfully mean to him. So she whipped him one morning and she whipped him awfully hard and he was cryin’. So she was sweepin’ the house and she swept up a bean and she says, “Here, take this bean and go out and plant hit and make you a bean tree.” He went out and planted hit and he played around all day and was very good after that. So next morning he got up and ran out early to see about his bean tree and hit had growed to the top of the house. So he run and said, “Grandmother, my bean tree is as high as the house.” So she slapped his face and said, “Go on out of here, you know hit’s not up yet.” When she went out, sure enough hit was high as the house. So hit made her kind a sorry and she give him a piece of bread and butter. So next morning he jumped up and ran out and says, “Granny, my bean tree’s as high as the sky.” So she slapped him again and says, “Son, don’t come in here telling such lies as that, you know hits not as high as the sky.” So after a while when she got thru cleanin’ up she went out and sure enough hit did look like the bean tree had growed up thru the sky. So Jack played around all that day and looked at his bean tree and next day he decided he’d climb hit. So he started and he told his grandmother, “I’ll hack you off a mess of beans as I go up.” So he clumb and clumb and throwed her down the beans. After a while he come to a big field. So he got out and got to wandering around in that field and he saw a house. So he went to this house and then he saw the old giant’s wife was a sittin’ thar and she says, “Law, little boy, what you doin’ here? Don’t you know the giant will be in directly?” “Oh, hide me, do please hide me,” says Jack. And after a while she hid him under the bed. So directly the old giant come in and says, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I

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smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread and butter.” His wife says, “Aw now, Poppy, don’t talk that way, that was just a little old boy that was here this evenin’ and he’s gone now.” So the giant et his supper and Jack lay there under the bed and he looked out at the giant’s boots and a gun. Fastened to the bed cords they was the prettiest china bells. So he wanted the china bells and he wanted the boots and he wanted the giant’s gun. So he laid there ’til they was all asleepin’ and he eased out and got the giant’s gun and down the bean stalk he went. So he laid around all next day, he rested and next morning he started to climb the bean stalk again. So he clumb back up the field and went back to the giant’s house. “Law, Jack, what you come back for? The giant thinks you stole his gun and he’ll sure eat you up.” “No, no, he won’t, jest let me crawl under the bed one more night.” So she let him crawl under the bed. So the old giant come in says, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread and butter.” “Aw, Poppy, don’t talk that way, hit’s jest that little old poor boy comin’ back here everyday.” So Jack, he laid there and studied what he’d get next, so way in the night he got out and got the giant’s boots and went down the bean tree. So after he got down he laid around two or three days, but he wanted them bells so he decided he’d go again. So he clumb up the bean tree and went to the giant’s house and when the giant’s wife saw him she says, “Law, Jack, the giant’s awfully mad at you, he thinks you stole his boots. You better go way before he ketches you.” “Aw, he wont ketch me, jest let me come in one more time.” So he crawled under the bed. So the giant come home and says, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread and butter.” “Law now, Poppy,” says his wife, “that little old boy’s been here but he ain’t comin’ back again.” So Jack laid there under the bed and he begun untying the bells and every now and then one ud make a noise and the old giant ud say, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread and butter.” Then another bell ud go “dingle” and he’d say, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread and butter.” So finally at last Jack, he got ’em all untied from the bed cords and got ’em down. And he started out for the bean stalk and they begun to go “dingle.” And the giant says, “Fi fo fiddledy fun, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Dead or alive I’ll have his bones to eat with my bread

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and butter.” And took out after Jack. And when they got to the bean stalk, Jack clumb down and then he looked up and here come the giant right after him. And Jack hollers, “Give me a hand ax, granny, give me a hand ax.” And he begun to hack and hack and down come the bean tree and down come the giant too.

OLD BLUEBEARD Variant A: Old Bluebeard Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 341–43. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

Although the following narrative—with its relatively complex plot, monstrous antagonist, and descent into a magical realm—resembles the European märchen, its setting, characters, and occupations are localized to the rural southern highlands of the United States. Featuring the exploits of a clever hero Jack, who is often the youngest of three brothers, the tale is one of a widely distributed cycle derived from European models. Jack, unlike his brothers, offers hospitality to the ogre, and this may be the reason for his successes in the tale. Despite the name differences—Variant A, “Old Bluebeard,” and Variant B, “Jack and the Fire Dragaman”—there seems to be no difference between attributes and behavior of the antagonists in the two narratives.

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ne time they was an old man and woman had three sons, Jack, Will and Tom. Will was the oldest one, Tom he was next and Jack was the least one. The old woman and the old man died and left Jack, Will and Tom

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to look after the place. They was workin’ away over in the field and each took his time goin’ to git dinner. Tom, he was the oldest, was first and he tried to see what a good dinner he could git up. He hung the meat up afore the fire to boil and he fixed some turnips and some potatoes and fixed everything nice for his brothers and when hit was ready he went out to blow the horn—they didn’t have no dinner bell in them days—and when he blowed the horn down the holler he saw an old man comin’ with his beard as blue as indigo, his teeth as long as pipe stems and his thumbs tucked behind him. And the man says, “Have ye anything to eat?” Will says, “No,” cuz he didn’t want the old man to come in and eat up the nice dinner he’d fixed up for his brothers. Old Bluebeard says, “Well, I’ll see about hit!” And he went in and eat up everything Will had cooked up. And Will had to fly around and fix up something for his brothers. He fixed up what he could, but he couldn’t fix much cuz he didn’t have time. Then he went out and blowed down the holler and when his brothers come in they says, “What in the world took you so long to fix up such a shabby dinner?” And Will says, “Well, I fixed ye up a good dinner, but when I went out to blow for ye to come in an old man come up the holler with his beard as blue as indigo, his teeth as long as pipe stems and his thumbs tucked behind him and he walked in and ate up everything I’d fixed. So I had to fly around and fix you something else.” Tom says, “Well, I knowed he wouldn’t have eat it all up if I’d been here.” Will says, “All right tomorrow is your day and we’ll see what he does to you.” So next morning Tom put him on some meat to boil in front the fire and when he come in from the new ground he got him some turnips and potatoes and pumpkin and baked him some bread and fixed him up a good dinner. And when he went out to blow the horn he saw an old man comin’ up the holler with his beard as blue as indigo, his teeth as long as pipe stems and his thumbs tucked behind him and he said, “Have ye anything to eat?” And Tom says, “No.” Old Blue-beard says, “Well, we’ll see about that.” And he went in and eat up everything Tom had fixed except jest a little bit of pumpkin. And Tom had to fly around and git up something for his brothers and when they come in Jack says, “Why didn’t you keep him from eatin’ hit up?” Tom says, “Tomorrow is your time to git dinner and see if you can keep him from hit.” And Jack says, “Bedad, I will.”

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So next day Jack put him some meat to boil in the fireplace and got some turnips and potatoes and fixed ’em and when he went out to blow the horn for his brothers to come in, Old Bluebeard was a comin’ up the holler with his beard as blue as indigo, his teeth as long as pipe stems and his thumbs tucked behind him. Jack says, “Now, uncle, you jest come in and have something to eat.” Old Bluebeard says, “No, I don’t want anything.” Jack says, “Yes, but you must come in and have dinner with us.” Old Bluebeard says, “No, I don’t want to,” and he took around the house and took out down the holler. Jack took out down the holler after him and saw him git down a den—a hole in the ground—and when the brothers come home and Jack was gone they thought Old Bluebeard had eat Jack up ’stead of his dinner but after a while Jack come in and they says, “Jack, where you bin?” Jack says, “I been watchin’ Old Bluebeard, watchin’ where he went to, and I watched him go down a hole in the ground and I’m goin’ to foller him.” So Jack took a big old bushel basket out and put a strop on hit and him and his brothers went to Old Bluebeard’s hole. Will says he was a-goin’ down. Jack says, “We’ll take turns. Will, go first.” So Will he climbed in the basket and they let him down in the hole and when he shuck the rope they pulled him up and asked him what he found. Will says, “Well, I went until I saw a house and then I shuck the rope.” “Oh pshaw, Will, what did you shake the rope then fer? Why didn’t you find out what was in the house?” Will says, “Well, you go in and find out.” Tom says, “All right I will.” So he clumb in the basket and went down ’til he was on top the house and then he shuck the rope and they pulled him up. When he told ’em he shuck the rope when he was on top of the house, Jack says, “You’re nary one no account but me.” So he went down and looked in the room and there sat the prettiest woman he ever saw in his life. And Jack says, “Oh! You’re the prettiest woman I ever saw in my life and you’re goin’ to be my wife.” “No,” she said, “Old Bluebeard will git you. You better git out of here.” “Oh no, he won’t,” says Jack. “He’s a good friend of mine and I’m goin’ to take you up and marry you.” “No,” she said, “you wait ’til you get down to the next house. You won’t think nothin’ of me when you see her.” So Jack put her in the basket and shuck the rope. And when she come out, Will says, “Oh! You’re the prettiest woman I ever saw in my life!” and Tom said, “Oh! You’re the prettiest woman I ever saw in my life.” Jack went on down to the next house and looked in and there the prettiest woman he ever did see, the other wasn’t nothing along side this one. Jack says,

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“You’re prettiest woman I ever saw and you’re goin’ to be my wife. My brothers can have the other one but I’m goin’ to have you.” She says, “Oh no, Jack, when you go down to the other house you won’t think nothin’ of me.” “Yes, I will too,” says Jack. “You jest come git in this basket.” So he put her in the basket and shuck the rope. Then he went down to the next house and there was the prettiest woman. Jack says, “Oh! You’re jest the prettiest woman I ever did see and you’re goin’ to be my wife. My brother’s kin have the other two but you’re goin’ to be my wife. Come git in this basket.” But afore she was pulled up she give him a red ribbon and told him to plait it in her hair so he’d know her when she come out and she give him a wishin’ ring. Jack put her in the basket and shuck the rope. When the brothers saw her they stopped talkin’ to the other two and fell in love with her right away. Tom says, “You’re goin’ to be my wife,” Will says, “No, she’s goin’ to be mine.” And they started fight-in’. She says, “I won’t have nary one. I’m goin’ to marry Jack.” They said, “No, you won’t fer we’ll leave Jack down there.” So they pulled up the basket and they commenced to fight and left Jack down there. Jack jest sit there and Old Bluebeard come in and walked around but he didn’t give Jack nothin’ to eat. Jack jest sit there and after a while he turned the ring on his finger seein’ how he’d fell away and said, “I wish I was in my old corner beside the fire smokin’ my old chunky pipe.” And there he was and there was the woman with red ribbon plaited in her hair and she said, “Oh Jack!” And they was married and they uz rich when I left there.

Variant B: Jack and the Fire Dragaman Tradition Bearer: Monroe Ward and Miles Ward Source: Chase, Richard. “Jack and the Fire Dragaman.” The Southern Folklore Quarterly 5 (1941): 151–55. Date: 1941 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: European American

W

ell, hit’s said that one time Jack and his two brothers, Will and Tom, wuz a-layin’ around home; wuzn’t none of ’em doin’ no good, so their daddy decided he’d set ’em to work. He had him a tract of land out

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in a wilderness of a place back up on the mountain. Told the boys they could go up there and work it. Said he’d give it to ’em. It wuz a right far ways from where anybody lived at, so they fixed ’em up a wagon load of rations and stuff for housekeepin’ and pulled out. There wuzn’t no house up there, so they cut poles and notched ’em up a shack. They had to go to work in a hurry to git out any crop and they set right in to clearin’ ’em a new ground. They decided one boy’d have to stay to the house till twelve and do the cookin’. First day Tom and Jack left Will there. Will went to fixin’ around and got dinner ready, went out and blowed the horn to call Tom and Jack, looked down the holler and seed a giant a-comin’. Had him a pipe about four foot long, and his long old blue beard drug the ground. When Will seed the old giant wuz headed right for the house, he run and got behind the door, pulled it back on him and scrouged back ag’inst the wall jest a-shakin’ like a leaf. Old Bluebeard come on in the house, throwed the cloth back off the dishes, eat ever’ bite on the table and sopped the plates. Went to the fire and lit his pipe; the smoke jest come a-bilin’ out. Then he went on back down the holler. Tom and Jack come on in directly, says, “Why in the world ain’t ye got us no dinner, Will?” “Law me!” says Will, “If you’d ’a seed what I seed, you’d a not thought about no dinner. Old Fire Dragaman come up here, eat ever’ bite on the table, and sopped the plates.” Tom and Jack laughed right smart at Will. Will says, “You’uns needn’t to laugh. Hit’ll be your turn tomor’, Tom.” So they fixed up what vittles they could and they all went back to work in the new ground. Next day Tom got dinner, went out and blowed the horn. There come old Fire Dragaman. “Law me!” says Tom, “Where’ll I git?” He run and scrambled under the bed. Old Fire Dragaman come on in, eat ever’thing on the table, sopped the plates, and licked out all the pots. Lit his old pipe and pulled out down the holler, the blot, smoke jest a-bilin’ like smoke comin’ out a chimley. Hit’uz a sight to look at. Will and Jack come in, says, “Where’s dinner at?” “Dinner, the nation! Old Fire Dragaman come back up here. Law me! Hit’uz the beatenist thing I ever seed!” Will says, “Where wuz you at, Tom?” “Well I’ll just tell ye,” says Tom, “I’uz down under the bed.”

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Jack laughed, and Will and Tom says, “You jest wait about laughin’, Jack. Hit’ll be your time tomor’.” Next day Will and Tom went to the new ground. They got to laughin’ about where Jack’d hide at when old Fire Dragaman come, Jack fixed up ever’thing for dinner, went out about twelve and blowed the horn. Looked down the wilderness, seed old Fire Dragaman a-comin’. Jack went on back in the house, started puttin’ stuff on the table. Never paid no attention to old Bluebeard, jest went right on a-fixin’ dinner. Old Fire Dragaman come on in. Jack ’uz scoopin’ up a mess of beans out the pot, says, “Why hello, daddy.” “Howdy, son.” “Come on in, daddy. Git you a chair. Dinner’s about ready; jest stay and eat with us.” “No I thank ye. I couldn’t stay.” “Hit’s on the table. Come on set down.” “No. I jest stopped to light my pipe.” “Come on, daddy. Let’s eat.” “No, much obliged. I got no time.” Old Fire Dragaman went to git him a coal of fire, got the biggest chunk in the fireplace, stuck it down in his old pipe and started on back. Jack took out and follered him with all the smoke a-bilin’ out; watched where he went to, seed him go down a big straight hole in the ground. Will and Tom come on to the house, seed Jack wuz gone. Will says, “I reckon that’s the last of Jack. I bet ye a dollar old Fire Dragaman’s done took him off and eat him. Dinner’s still on the table.” So they set down and went to eatin’. Jack come on in directly. Will and Tom says, “Whare’n the world ye been, Jack? We allowed old Fire Dragaman had done eat ye up.” “I been watchin’ where old Fire Dragaman went to.” “How come dinner still on the table?” “I tried my best to git him to eat,” says Jack; “He jest lit his old pipe and went on back. I follered him, seed him go in a big hole out yonder.” “You right sure ye ain’t lyin’, Jack?” “Why no,” says Jack. “You boys come with me and you kin see the place where he went in at. Let’s us git a rope and basket so we kin go in that hole and see what’s down there.” So they got ’em a big basket made out of splits, and gathered up a long rope they’d done made out of hickory bark, and Jack took ’em on down to old Fire Dragaman’s den.

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“Will, you the oldest,” says Jack. “We’ll let you go down first. If you see any danger, you shake the rope and we’ll pull ye back up.” Will got in the basket, says: “You recollect now; whenever I shake that rope, you’uns pull me out in a hurry.” So they let him down. Directly the rope shook; they jerked the basket back out, says, “What’d ye see, Will?” “Seed a big house.” Then they slapped Tom in the basket and let him down; rope shook; they hauled him up. “What’d ye see, Tom?” “Seed a house and the barn.” Then they got Jack in the basket, let him down. Jack got down on top of the house, let the basket slip down over the eaves, and right on down in the yard. Jack got out, went and knocked on the door. The prettiest girl Jack ever had seed come out. He started right in to courtin’ her, says, “I’m goin’ to git you out of here.” She says, “I got another sister in the next room yonder, prettier’n me. You git her out, too.” So Jack went on in the next room. That second girl wuz a heap prettier’n the first, and Jack went to talkin’ to her and wuz a-courtin’ right on. Said he’d git her out of that place. She says, “I got another sister in the next room, prettier’n me. Don’t ye want to git her out, too?” So he went on in. Time Jack seed that ’un he knowed she ’uz the prettiest girl ever lived, so he started in right off talkin’ courtin’ talk to her; plumb forgot about them other two. That girl said to Jack, says, “Old Fire Dragaman’ll be back here any minute now. Time he finds you here he’ll start spittin’ balls of fire.” So she went and opened up an old chest, took out a big sword and a box of ointment, says, “If one of them balls of fire hits ye, Jack, you rub on a little of this medicine right quick, and this here swords the only thing kin hurt old Fire Dragaman. You watch out now and kill him if ye kin.” Well, old Bluebeard come in the door directly, seed Jack, and commenced spittin’ balls of fire around in there, some of ’em big as pumpkins. Jack he’uz jest a-dodgin’ around tryin’ to git at the old giant with that sword. Once in a while one of them fireballs would glance him but Jack rubbed on that ointment and it didn’t even make a blister. Fin’lly Jack clipped him with that sword, took his head clean off.

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Then Jack made that girl promise she’d marry him. So she took a red ribbon and got Jack to plait it in her hair. Then she give Jack a wishin’ ring. He put it on his finger and they went on out and got them other two girls. They wuz awful pleased. Told Jack they’uz such little bits of children when old Bluebeard ketched ’em they barely could recollect when they first come down there. Well, Jack put the first one in the basket and shook the rope. Will and Tom hauled her up, and when they seed her they commenced fightin’ right off to see which one would marry her. She told ’em, says, “I got another sister down there.” “Is she prettier’n you?” says Will. She says to him, says, “I ain’t sayin’.” Will and Tom chunked the basket down in a hurry. Jack put the next girl in, shook the rope. Time Will and Tom seed her they both asked her to marry, and went to knockin’ and beatin’ one another over gittin’ her. She stopped ’em, says, “We got one more sister down there.” “Is she prettier’n you?” says Will. She says to him, says, “You kin see for yourself.” So they slammed the basket down, jerked that last girl out. “Law me!” says Will, “This here’s the one I’m a-goin’ to marry.” “Oh no you ain’t!” Tom says; “you’ll marry me, won’t ye now?” “No,” says the girl, “I’ve done promised to marry Jack.” “Blame Jack,” says Will, “he kin jest stay in there,” and he took the basket and rope, throwed ’em down the hole. “There ain’t nothin’ much to eat down there,” says the girl; “He’ll starve to death.” “That’s jest what we want him to do,” says Will, and they took them girls on back up to the house. Well, Jack eat ever’thing he could find down there, but in about three days he seed the rations wuz runnin’ awful low. Then he scrapped up ever’thing there wuz left and he wuz plumb out of vittles didn’t know what he would do. In about a week Jack had commenced to git awful pore. Happened he looked at his hand, turned that ring to see how much he’d fell off, says, “I wish I wuz back home settin’ in my mother’s chimley corner smokin’ my old chunky pipe.” And next thing, there he wuz. Jack’s mother asked him how come he wuzn’t up at the new ground. Jack told her that wuz jest where he wuz started. When Jack got up there, Will and Tom wuz still a-fightin’ over that youngest girl. Jack come on in the house and seed she still had that red ribbon in her hair, and she come over to him, says, “Oh Jack!”

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The South | Hardy Hardback

So Jack got the youngest and Tom got the next ’un, and that throwed Will to take the oldest. And the last time I’uz down there they’d done built ’em three pole cabins and they wuz all doin’ pretty well.

HARDY HARDBACK Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 347–49. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: European American

“Hardy Hardback” is an American recreation of “The Helpers” (AT 513), in which Jack is rewarded for his kindness to a stranger by advice that allows him to rescue a princess from enchantment by assembling a group of extraordinary companions who help him defeat the king’s witch and make his fortune. As with the other märchen from the southern highlands, the king’s domain is localized in the region, complete with mountains, farm houses, and livestock. Jack’s success results not from cleverness or luck in this tale but from kindness.

A

man, an old king, he got so rich that he put out an oration that anyone that could do more than his old witch or could find anyone who could do more might have his youngest daughter and half his kingdom. So they was an old poor man and he had three sons, Jack, Will and Tom. And they decided that they’d try for a fortune. So Will he told his mother he was going over to the king’s house to see if he could break the enchantment of the lady. He had to walk way long ways. His mother cooked him up a haversack full of rations.

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So Will started out but if he couldn’t do as much as the old king’s witch could, the king would kill him, cut his head off and set it up on a pole. So when he got over to the king’s house he hollered, “Hello,” and the king come out and said, “What’ll you have?” He said, “I come over to see if I could break the enchantment of the lady.” King says, “Now if ye can’t do as much as my witch, I’ll kill ye and cut your head off and set hit up on a pole.” “I know hit,” says Will. King says, “Do you think ye can hit the iron hackle as hard as my witch can?” “Yes, bedads, I think I can.” King says, “Come, old witch,” and she popped her back against that hackle and popped like a rubber ball and danced all over the floor. Will he come in and pounced agin that hackle and stove hit through his body and hit killed him and the king cut his head off and set hit up on a pole. So then Tom decided he wanted to go. His mother said, “Oh Tom, don’t go, Will was killed.” “Well, bedads I’m going anyway,” says Tom. So Tom, he starts out and meets the same little old dried up man that Will met, so he said, “Good morning, Tom.” Tom says, “Good morning.” He said, “Where ye started?” Tom says, “None of yer business.” So Tom had his haversack of rations and he tramped a long ways over to the king’s house and he says, “Hello,” and the king come out and says, “What’ll ye have?” Tom says, “I come over to see if I could break the enchantment of the lady.” “Well, if ye don’t, I’ll kill ye,” says the king. “Ye know that, don’t ye?” “Yes I know hit,” says Tom. “Come in,” says the king. “Can ye hit that iron hackle with your back as hard as my old witch can, or can ye find anyone who can?” “Yes, bedads, I think I can.” So the old witch come in, hit agin the iron hackle, bounced off like a rubber ball and danced all over the floor. Tom he come in, stove his back against the hackle and hit stove into his back and killed him. King cut his head off, put hit up on the pole. By that time he was a gettin’ a pretty long pole full of heads. So Jack decided he wanted to go and he got to beggin’ his mother to cook up a haversack full of rations. Mother said, “Now, Jack, you’re all we’ve got.” Jack said he was a goin’ anyway. But his mother wouldn’t cook up a haversack full of rations so he jest took some old dried bread an’ started out.

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When Jack got out he met the same little dried up man. He says, “Good morning, Jack.” Jack says, “Good morning, father—good morning, uncle, ain’t ye a goin’ to have some breakfast with me?” “Where ye started, Jack?” “Well, uncle, I’ve started to try to make a ship sail on dry land.” “Well, you take my stick, Jack, an’ go back around the way I’ve come to a spring. And you stir my stick in that there spring until hit turns to wine and you’ll see a new tin bucket and tin cup. When ye get back here I’ll have yer ship made.” So Jack went and stirred in the spring until hit turned to wine and there sat the tin bucket and he filled hit and come back and the little old man had the ship made, and they sat down and eat their bread and drank their wine. He said, “Now, Jack, you git in this ship and say, ‘Sail, ship sail’ and hit’ll sail. Now, Jack, you take in every man that you see between here and the king’s house. Now when you see a man you say, ‘Hey! What’s your name?’ and when he tells you say, ‘Come here and git in this ship and say, ‘Sail, ship, sail,’ and it will sail right along.” So Jack was sailing along and he looked up on the mountains and he saw a man hitting his back against the trees and knockin’ ’em every which away. Jack say, “Hey! What’s your name?” “Hardy Hardback.” “Hardy Hardback? Hardy hard back I think you are, come an’ get in here.” So they sailed on a little ways and he saw a man out in the pasture jest a eatin’ up the sheep and hogs. “Hey! What’s your name?” says Jack. “Eat Well.” “Eat Well? Eat well I think you are, come and get in here.” Went on a little ways and he saw a man up the holler jest drinking up the little springs and branches. Says, “What’s your name?” “Drink Well.” “Drink Well? Drink well I think you are. Get in here.” So Drink Well got in and Jack said, “Sail, ship, sail,” and it sailed right on. So went a little ways and saw a man running. He’d run a ways on one leg, then take hit up and run a while on t’other. Jack says, “Hey! What’s your name?” “Run Well.” “Run Well? Run well I think you are. Come git in here.” So Run Well got in and they sailed right out; went a little further saw a man standing with a gun like he was a shootin’ a hare in the skies. “Hey! What’s your name?” says Jack. “Shoot Well.” “Shoot Well? Shoot well I think you are,” says Jack. “Come on git in here.”

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So he got in and Jack said, “Sail, ship, sail,” and they sailed right out. Little further saw a man a listenin’. He’d put one hand over one ear, and one over the t’other. “Hey. What’s your name?” says Jack. “Hark Well.” “Hark Well? Hark well I think you are. Come on git in here.” So Hark Well got in and Jack says, “Sail, ship, sail,” and it sailed right out. So they sailed on a little ways ’til they got to the king’s house. Jack hollered, “Hello,” and the king come out and says, “What will ye have?” Jack says, “I come over to see if I could break the enchantment of the lady.” “Well, if you don’t, I’ll kill ye.” “Yes, I know hit, “says Jack. Said, “Do you think you can hit the iron hackle as hard as my old witch can, or can ye find anyone who can?” “Yes, bedads, I think I can.” So the king called his old witch and she stabbed her back agin the iron hackle and bounced off like a rubber ball and danced all over the room. “Hardy Hardback, come in here,” says Jack. Hardy Hardback come in and struck that iron hackle and stove hit through the wall, jumped off on the floor and danced all over. King says, “Well, now do you think you can eat as much as my old witch can, or can ye find anyone who can?” “Yes, I think I can. Come in here, Eat Well.” So Eat Well come in and they assigned each a horse apiece. Eat Well jumped out and eat up his horse, and a cow or two, and a couple of sheep, and some pigs, and the old witch didn’t have one horse eat up. So they called ’em in. Said, “Well, now do you think you can drink as much as my old witch can, or can ye find anyone who can?” “Yes, I think I can,” says Jack. “Drink Well, come in here.” So they assigned them a creek apiece and Drink Well jumped in and drank his up, and a spring or two, and was drinking the river up when they called ’em in. “Well now,” says the king, “can you find a man that can run as fast as my old witch can?” “Yes, I think I can. Run Well, come in here.” So they give ’em an egg shell apiece and started ’em to the ocean after an egg shell full of water. So Run Well run on to the ocean got his water and come on back and met the old witch half way. She said, “I’m tired.” He said, “I’m tired, too.” She says, “Let’s sit down and rest and not run ourselves to death for other people.” So they went up above the road a few steps to a nice grassy place and sat down and rested. She says, “Lay yer head over here and rest.” She had an old

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The South | How Brer Rabbit Bring Dust Out of the Rock

jaw bone in her pocket and if she could git anybody to sleep and put that under their head they wouldn’t wake up until that was knocked out. So Run Well being tired, she waited ’til he was asleep and put that jaw bone under his head. She poured his egg shell out and started on to the ocean. Jack began to get uneasy and said, “Hark Well, hark well and see where Run Well’s at.” “Jack, he’s layin’ asleep half way between here and the ocean with a jaw bone under his head, and he’ll never wake ’til that’s knocked out.” “Shoot Well, shoot well and shoot hit out,” says Jack. So Shoot Well shot and knocked hit out. Run Well jumped up and picked up his egg shell and started to the ocean. When he was comin’ back he ketched up to the old witch and knocked the old witch, and come on back to the king’s house. And they was married ’fore the old witch got there and when I left they was rich.

HOW BRER RABBIT BRING DUST OUT OF THE ROCK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Tales of the Rabbit from Georgia Negroes.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 113–14. Date: 1899 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

Brer Rabbit’s trick of seeming to strike dust from a rock, despite the failure of other stronger competitors, is reminiscent of the European and European American Jack Tales in which Jack uses similar slight of hand to appear to squeeze milk from a stone to intimidate giants and ogres. Unlike Jack, however, Brer Rabbit uses his deception to exploit yet another in a long line of reluctant fathers-in-law, shrugging off his ploy as just one of “his courting tricks.” As Brer Rabbit once again subverts a competition designed to take him out of the running, the social message is again the triumph of brain over brawn and the flexibility of rules.

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M

r. Fox, he have a mighty handsome daughter, and all the chaps was flying round her to beat all. Brer Coon, Brer Wolf, Brer Rabbit, and Brer Possum was a courting of her constant, and they all ask Brer Fox for he daughter. Now the gal, she favor Brer Rabbit in her mind, but she don’t let on who her favor is, but just snap her eyes on ’em all. Now Ole Brer Rabbit, he ain’t so mighty handsome, and he ain’t no proudful man, that’s sure, but somehow it ’pears like he do have a mighty taking way with the gals. Well, when they all done ask Ole Man Fox for his daughter, he ask the gal, do she want Brer Wolf? And she toss her head and ’low Brer Wolf too bodaciously selfish; she say, “Brer Wolf’s wife never get a bite of chicken breast while she live.” Then the Ole man, he ask her how she like Brer Possum. and she just giggle and ’low “Brer Possum mighty ornery leetle Ole man, and he ’longs to a low family anyhow.” And Ole Man Fox, he ’low, “Dat’s so for a fact,” and he sound her affections for Brer Coon, but she make out Brer Coon pass all endurance. Then the Ole man he tell her Brer Rabbit done ask for her too, and she make out like she mighty took ’back, and ’low she don’t want none of that lot. Then Ole Brer Fox, he say that the gal was too much for him; but he tell the chaps to bring up the big stone hammer, and they can all try their strength on the big step rock what they use for a horse block, and the one what can pound dust out of the rock shall have the gal. Then Brer Rabbit, he feel mighty set down on, ’cause he know all the chaps can swing the stone hammer to beat hisself, and he go off sorrowful like and set on the sand bank. He set a while and look east, and then he turn and set a while and look west, but maybe you don’t know, sir, Brer Rabbit sense never come to hisself ’cepting when he look north. When it just come to hisself what he goin’ to do, he jump up and clip it off home, and he hunt up the slippers and he fill them with ashes, and Lord bless your soul, the ole chap know just what them slippers do ’bout the dust out of the rock. Well, the next morning they was all there soon. Ole Brer Rabbit, the last one, come limping up like he mighty lame, and being so, he the last one on the land, ’cause he have last chance. Now Brer Wolf, he take the big hammer and he fetch it down hard, and Brer Wolf mighty strong man in them days, but he ain’t fetch no dust. Then Brer Coon and Brer Possum, they try, but Ole Man Fox he say, he don’t see no dust, and Miss Fox she behind the window curtain and giggle, and Ole Man Fox he

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The South | Rabbit Steals Fire

curl the lip and he say, “Brer Rabbit, it you turn now.” Brer Wolf he look on mighty scornful, and Brer Rabbit have just all he can do to fetch up the big hammer; it so hard he just have to stand on tiptoe in he slippers, and when the hammer come down, he heels come down sish, and the dust fly so they can’t see the ole chap for the dust. But Ole Brer Rabbit, he don’t count that nothing but just one of his courting tricks.

RABBIT STEALS FIRE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Swanton, John R. Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Date: 1929 Original Source: Creek National Origin: Native American

In myth, fire symbolizes technology in general, and one of the common exploits of the culture hero is the theft of fire. In the overwhelming majority of cases, the bringer of fire in other narratives serves as a trickster figure. Although there is an innate irony in the coupling of the wily exploiter and the clever culture bearer, the combination is appropriate; innovation must deviate from the norm by definition, and who deviates better than the trickster? In the following myth, Rabbit uses his duplicity to serve humanity rather than for his own selfish ends.

A

ll the people came together and said: “How shall we obtain fire?” It was agreed that Rabbit should try to obtain fire for the people.

He went across the great water to the east. He was received gladly, and a great dance was arranged. Then Rabbit entered the dancing circle, gaily

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dressed, and wearing a peculiar cap on his head into which he had stuck four sticks of rosin. As the people danced they approached nearer and nearer the sacred fire in the center of the circle. The Rabbit also danced nearer and nearer the fire. The dancers began to bow to the sacred fire, lower and lower. Rabbit also bowed to the fire, lower and lower. Suddenly, as he bowed very low, the sticks of rosin caught fire and his head was a blaze of flame. The people were amazed at the impious stranger who had dared to touch the sacred fire. They ran at him in anger, and away ran Rabbit, the people pursuing him. He ran to the great water and plunged in, while the people stopped on the shore. Rabbit swam across the great water, with the flames blazing from his cap. He returned to his people, who thus obtained fire from the east.

WHITEBERRY WHITTINGTON Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 357–59. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

The present tale combines some of the traditional motifs associated with the tale type “The Girl as Helper in the Hero’s Flight” (AT313), with the commonsense solutions often found in American versions of the older European märchen. For example, rather than the real wife magically awakening Whiteberry from an enchanted sleep (motifs D1971 and D2006.1.1), Whiteberry simply does not take laudanum on the third night and remains awake. The abuses suffered by the lowborn heroine of the tale at the hands of her social superiors suggests a subtext about the folk group’s view of both gender and class disparity. Compare this to “Wolf of the Greenwood” (Vol. I, p. 52).

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The South | Whiteberry Whittington

W

hiteberry Whittington was a hired boy and he lived with the king, and he loved the hired girl. So he was out helpin’ to kill beef one day and he got some blood on his shirt. The king’s daughter she was kinda in love with him. So when he got back he says to the hired girl and the king’s girl, “Whichever one washes this stain out my shirt, that’s the one I’m goin’ to marry.” So the hired girl she washed hit out, he knowed she would, and he married her and lived with her until they had three children. One day King’s daughter says, “I washed that shirt and you said whichever one washed that stain out your shirt, that’s the one you was goin’ to marry.” “Yes, I did,” says Whiteberry Whittington, so he left with the king’s daughter. And the hired girl she was home jest a mournin’, and at last old woman come by and says, “Why are you always a grievin’ and a cryin’?” The hired girl told her how her husband had left her and gone away with the king’s daughter. Old woman says, “If you’ll give me one of these children, I’ll tell you where your husband is. But,” she says, “you’ll have to climb the glassy hills and wade the bloody seas to git to him.” “I don’t mind that but I hate to give up one of my little children.” She wasn’t a aimin’ to give hit up to her at all. Old woman says, “Well, when you find your husband you kin come back and git the child.” So she wouldn’t give it to her and the old woman says, “Well, now listen, if you give me this child, I’ll give you this beautiful fan and help you git your husband.” So she give her a child and started on her way with the two children and she traveled and traveled until she met another old woman who looked like the first one. “Oh! these two pretty children,” she says. “You’ve jest got to give me one of them.” So the hired girl says, “No, I’ve already had to give one to the old witch and I can’t give way nary ’nother one.” Old woman says, “You’ll never find your husband if you don’t give me one of them children.” Girl says, “Oh, I can’t give nary ’nother child.” Old woman says, “Give me one of them children and I’ll give you this pretty comb and it’ll help your husband to love you and I’ll help you find him.” So she give the old woman one of the children and she took the comb and started on. So she clumb the glassy hills and waded the bloody seas and went on. Traveled on for about two more days and met another old woman who says, “Oh, this pretty baby, I’m bound to have this pretty baby.”

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“No, I jest can’t give you this baby. I’ve had to give the other two children to the old witches and I have to hunt my husband and I jest don’t believe I could live if I had to give up this one.” The old woman says, “If you’ll give me this one, I’ll give you this pretty string of beads, and if you don’t, you’ll never find your husband and you’ll never live neither.” So she took the string of beads and give the old witch the child and went on to the place her husband and the king’s daughter was, and it warnt but a day or two before she saw Whiteberry Whittington, and it wasn’t but a few more days ’fore she saw the king’s daughter. King’s daughter says, “Oh, that pretty fan, I’ve got to have that pretty fan.” “No,” hired girl says, “You got my man and that’s enough for you.” “No, I’ve got to have that fan; I’ll send my husband over to spend the night with you.” He wasn’t her husband of course because he’d married the hired girl. The king’s daughter jest said that. She was anxious to git him to come over so she could tell him how the king’s daughter had lied her and lied him. So she give the king’s daughter the fan. So the king’s daughter went home and told him he was to go over. So he went over, he jest minded the king’s daughter like he was a little brown puppy, and the king’s daughter says, “You got to take this dose of laudanum because I don’t want her a talkin’ to you.” So when he got over there, she wanted him to have some supper with her. But he said no, he was sleepy and wanted to go to bed. So she fixed the bed and he went to bed. She crawled in behind him. So she says, “I’ve clumb the glassy hills and waded the bloody seas, My three little babes I’ve give for thee. Turn over to me, my fair Whittington.” But he was jest so sound asleep he couldn’t wake. So in two or three days the king’s daughter happened to notice the comb. “Oh, what’ll you take for that comb; I just must have that comb.” “No, you have my man and that’s enough for you.” “Say, if you’ll give me that comb, I’ll send him back to stay all night with you.” So she give her the comb. So the king’s daughter give him another dose of laudanum and he wouldn’t eat no supper and all during the night she’d talk to him, but couldn’t git him to wake enough to speak to. She’d say, “I’ve clumb the glassy hills and waded the bloody seas, my three little babes I’ve give for thee. Turn over to me, Whiteberry Whittington.” He’d never move. So in two or three days the king’s daughter saw her beads. “Oh, I’m jest bound to have them beads.”

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The South | Old Foster

“No, you got my man, you got my fan, you got my comb. I’m jest not goin’ to let you have these beads.” “I’ll let my man come and stay all night with you if you’ll jest let me have them beads.” So she let her have the beads. So that night when she give the laudanum to Whiteberry Whittington, he jest spit hit down in his boot and went on over. So she told him what a hard time she’d had to git to him, how she had had to give up her children. She told him that the king’s daughter lied to him and that she was the one that washed the blood out. So he went back to the king’s daughter and says, “You jest lied me and I’m goin’ back with my wife, kill the old witches and git my children.” So he took his wife and they went on back and stopped at every house and killed the old witch and took the children and when I left there, they was rich and livin’ happy.

OLD FOSTER Tradition Bearer: Jane Gentry Source: Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 361–63. Date: 1923 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

The following narrative, with its historical setting and plausible, if gory, events, could easily pass as a legend. This tale of Mr. Foster, a serial murderer and cannibal, and his apparently reluctant accomplice, Jack, is a North Carolina variant of a folktale with an international distribution, “The Robber Bridegroom” (AT955).

T

hey use to be an old man, he lived way over in the forest by hisself, and all he lived on was he caught women and boiled ’em in front of the fire and eat ’em. Now the way my mother told me, he’d go into the villages and tell ’em this and that and get ’em to come out and catch ’em and jest boil

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they breasts. That’s what she told me, and then I’ve heard hit that he jest eat ’em. Well, they was a beautiful stout woman, he liked ’em the best (he’d a been right after me and your mother) so every day he’d come over to this woman’s house and he’d tell her to please come over to see his house. “Why, Mr. Foster, I can’t find the way.” “Yes, you can. I’ll take a spool of red silk thread out of my pocket and I’ll start windin’ hit on the bushes and hit’ll carry ye straight to my house.” So she promised him one day she’d come. So she got her dinner over one day and she started. So she follered the red silk thread and went on over to his house. When she got there, there was a poor little old boy sittin’ over the fire a boilin’ meat. And he says, “Laws, Aunt,”—she uz his aunt—“what er you doin’ here? Foster kills every woman uz comes here. You leave here jest as quick as you can.” She started to jump out the door and she saw Foster a comin’ with two young women, one under each arm. So she run back and says, “Jack, honey, what’ll I do, I see him a cumin’? “Jump in that old closet under the stair and I’ll lock you in,” says Jack. So she jumped in and Jack locked her in. So Foster come in and he was jest talkin’ and a laughin’ with those two girls and tellin’ the most tales, and he was goin’ to taken ’em over to a corn shuckin’ next day. Foster says, “Come on in and have supper with me.” So Jack put up some boiled meat and water. That’s all they had. As soon as the girls stepped in and seed the circumstance and seed their time had come their countenance fell. Foster says, “You better come in and eat, maybe the last chance you’ll ever have.” Girls both jumped up and started to run. Foster jumps up and ketched ’em, and gets his tomihawk and starts up stairs with ’em. Stairs was shaky and rattly, and as they went up one of the girls wretched her hand back and caught hold of a step and Foster jest took his tomihawk and hacked her hand off. Hit drapped into whar she was. She laid on in there until next day after Foster went out then Jack let her out. She jest walked over to where the corn shuckin’ was. When she got there Foster was there. She didn’t know how to git Foster destroyed. The people thought these people got out in the forest and the wild animals would ketch ’em. So she says, “I dreamt an awful dream last night. I dreamed I lived close to Foster’s house and he was always a wantin’ me to come to his house.” Foster says, “Well, that ain’t so, and hit shan’t be so, and God forbid hit ever should be so.” She went right on, “And I dreamt he put out a red thread and I follered hit to his house and there uz Jack broilin’ women’s breasts in front the fire.” Foster says, “Well, that ain’t so, and hit shan’t be so, and God forbid hit ever should be so.”

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The South | Old Foster

She went right on, “And he says, ‘What er you doin’ here? Foster kills every woman as comes here.’” Foster says, “Well, that ain’t so, and hit shan’t be so, and God forbid hit ever should be so.” She went right on, “And I seed Foster a-comin’ with two girls. And when they git thar the girls their hearts failed ’em and Foster ketched ’em and gets his tomihawk and starts upstairs with ’em.” Foster says, “Well, that ain’t so, and hit shan’t be so, and God forbid hit ever should be so.” She went right on, “The stairs was shaky and rattly and as they went up, one of the girls wretched her hand back and caught hold of a step and Foster jest took his tomihawk and hacked her hand off.” Foster says, “Well, that ain’t so, and hit shan’t be so, and God forbid hit ever should be so.” She says, “Hit is so, and hit shall be so and here I’ve got the hand to show.” And they knowed the two girls was missin’ and they knowed hit was so, so they lynched Foster and then they went and got Jack and bound him out.

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WHY THE SPIDER NEVER GOT IN THE ARK Tradition Bearer: Unknown Source: Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 285–86. Date: 1898 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

The Biblical version of Noah and the flood identifies the rainbow as God’s pledge that water would not be used again to destroy humanity. This oral narrative notes the presence of another sort of sign—the spider. This tale—with its God of the mountain, plagues and famine, and people celebrating Satan with a sinful frolic—incorporates motifs from the Hebrew exodus from Egypt which, according to Biblical history, occurred after the flood. Therefore, the spider was not on the ark but was created by the Old Testament God who used a giant spider as an instrument to punish human wickedness. The instrument of divine justice was allowed to live on in diminished form as a warning for potential sinners.


T

he spider ain’t one of the sure ’nough creeping things what was in the ark, bless your soul no, Miss, that he ain’t; the spider am on this here earth just as a ’minder what we be fetch back to, if we don’t walk with the Lord Jesus. In the long time back, the black man he have no Lord Jesus, he only have the great God of the mountain; and the black man he mighty big sinner, and the great God, he just ’bliged to hold the sinner in, and sometimes he have to make a instrument. Well, Miss, one year the peoples was mighty gone away; I can’t just tell you all the sins they done commit, ’cause I’s mighty old, and I’ve seen a heap of trouble, and when I done hear the old folks tell it I was just a chap, but the great God he send the fever, and he make all the crops burn up on the face of the earth, and he do heap more works, and ever what I just disremembers; I’ve seen a heap of trouble, Miss, but they hard-headed and rebelling, they just go on after Satan. And the great God, he have to make a instrument, and he do it this here way. The great feast time was come, the sacred feast when they all know they have to bring the offerings to the great God; but old Satan, he ’suade them to have it a dance feast; and the great God, he knew what a worsting in they mind, so in the night, before he make a instrument, he make a great spider, more big than that church over there, Miss, and before daybreak that spider done spin a web more than a mile; it take in all the feast ground, but it so fine no sinner man could see it; and when they go up to the sinful frolic, that web it just take them in, and they go round and round on it, till they come to the great spider’s mouth, and he swallow them up, the last one of them. After that the spider, he get smaller and smaller, till these here times he just a little chap, what the Lord just suffer to go about for a ’minder, but he was never in the ark, Lord bless you, no, Miss.

THE SPANISH MOSS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 135–36. Date: 1912 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

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The South | The Spanish Moss

This moral tale of the origin of Spanish moss (Tillandsia useneoides), a plant that hangs from trees in gray threadlike clusters and grows throughout the South, carries a warning that a bargain with Death is usually no bargain at all. The protagonist’s fear of death leads to a worse fate.

L

ong time ago there was a powerful wicked man. He was that sinful, that Death he don’t have the heart to cut him off in his sins, ’cepten’ he give him a warning. So one day Death he appear to the wicked man, and he tell him how that day week he goin’ come for him. The wicked man he that frightened, he get on his knees and beg Death to let him live a little longer. The wicked man he take on, and he beg, ’til Death he promise he won’t come for him ’til he give him one more warning. Well, the years go by, but the wicked man he grow more wicked; and one day Death he appear to him again, and Death he tell the wicked man how that day week he goin’ come for him; but the wicked man he more frightened than what he was before; and he get on his knees, the wicked man do, and beg Death to let him live a little longer; and Death he promise the wicked man how before he come for him he goin’ send him a token what he can see or what he can hear. Well, the years go by; and the wicked man he get a powerful old man; he deaf and blind, and he jest drag hisself about. One day Death he done come for the wicked man once more, but the wicked man he say how Death done promise him he won’t come for him ’til he send him a token what he can see or hear; and Death he say he done send a token what he can see. Then the wicked man he say how he can’t see no token, ’cause he say how he done blind. Then Death he say how he done send a token what he can hear. But the wicked man he say how he plum deaf, and he say how he can’t hear no token; and he beg Death that hard to let him live, that Death he get plum outdone with the wicked man, and Death he jest go off and leave him to hisself. And the wicked man he jest wander about the woods, and his children all die, and his friends all die. Still he jest wander about the woods. He blind, and he can’t see; and he deaf, and he can’t hear. He that blind he can’t see to find no food; and he that deaf he never know when anybody try to speak to him. And the wicked man he done perish away ’til he jest a shadow with long hair. His hair it grow longer and longer, and it blow in the wind; and still he can’t die, ’cause Death he done pass him by.

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So he here to wander and blow about in the woods, and he perish away’ til all you can see is his powerful long hair blowing all ’bout the trees; and his hair it done blow about the trees ’til it done grow fast, and now you-all folks done calls it Spanish Moss.

HELLHOUND COMES FOR A DRUNKARD Tradition Bearer: Zenobia Brown Source: Williams, Ellis. “Interview of Zenobia Brown.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 20 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

This personal experience narrative carries messages about the wages of sin and the punishment of a neglectful spouse. In African American tradition the most famous Hellhound is undoubtedly the one that is featured in the song “Hellhound on my Trail” by Mississippi blues legend Robert Johnson (1911–1938).

I

n a little hamlet outside of Wilmington, North Carolina, about twenty years ago I had an experience which I hope shall never be mine again and which will remain with me to the end of time. It concerned my stepfather, a man of about fifty-five, and who was up to that time an extraordinarily heavy drinker who denied himself of many comforts in order that his rapacious greed for drink could be satisfied. My mother, a woman then of about fifty, was a very kindly and devout soul whose mature years were spent in the varied activities of the church and home where she labored unceasingly to keep body and soul together. Oft-times I would see her on her bended knees praying for my dad to do right and change his bad ways. She would talk to him continuously but her preachments always

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The South | Sol Lockheart’s Call

went unheeded. In her every talk she would warn that the devil would get him if he continued, but he always dismissed her lightly with a wave of the hand. It was on a Sunday morning that Martin started on one of his sprees, running it well into the night. He arrived home around midnight in an almost helpless condition and had to be put to bed. He was hardly in bed more than an hour when my mother, attracted by an unusual noise in the room, proceeded to investigate the sounds which sounded like a combination of grumbling and moaning. As we entered the room we found Martin crawling on his all fours groaning and moaning with the bed covers around him and going towards a locked door that led to the porch that opened upon a running brook. As we endeavored to get him back in bed we beheld out of nowhere a huge animal with a dog-like appearance and with eyes the size of saucers standing inside the door. We stood petrified as Martin crawled twice towards the object still moaning and groaning. The third time he started towards the object my mother screamed and grabbed him by the foot. Her action seemed to have broken the spell and the object disappeared. The screams brought neighbors to the house who assisted in putting him back in bed. From that instant Martin was very sick and remained in bed until he died. He was never able to recall the incident. Were it not true that my mother witnessed the happenings, and discussed it with me over a period of years, I would have sworn it was an optical illusion.

SOL LOCKHEART’S CALL Tradition Bearer: Sol Lockheart Source: Steiner, Roland. “Sol Lockheart’s Call.” Journal of American Folklore 48 (1900): 67–70. Date: 1900 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

The following personal experience narrative is classified in the Protestant religion as “testimony,” which is the reporting of one’s religious

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experience as a means of affirming one’s faith or of converting others to belief. In this case, Sol Lockheart, a licensed (as distinct from fully ordained) minister recounts his call to the Christian ministry, an occupation that he pursued part-time while employed taking care of stock for collector Roland Steiner. During the course of his call, he is struck blind and receives a vision from Christ—an experience reminiscent of many elements of the Apostle Paul’s call to preach while on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1–9). Lockheart’s notion that man is influenced by both a good and bad conscience recalls Braziel Robinson’s two spirits (“Possessed of Two Spirits,” p. 167). Unlike Robinson, Sol Lockheart rejects the belief in conjuring and hoodoo, although he is reported in Steiner’s gloss of this narrative to be a traditional healer who uses magico-religious techniques.

W

hen a man starts to pray, he has a conscience to tell him when and where; then he has at the same time a conscience to tell him not to go and pray. The first is a good spirit, the last is a bad spirit. Maybe you may be lying in bed at midnight, eating breakfast or dinner, or between meals. The good spirit may say, “Go in the swamp to pray,” night or day. If you follow the good one, you will receive good; if the bad one, you will get nothing. I have to work out and find the difference between the two spirits. I felt sometimes like obeying the good spirit and sometimes the bad, and I continued to live to obey it better, and was one morning, just at daylight, called out by it into a gully; and when I got there and sat down, I lost my sight, and I heard a voice at my head saying: “When a child learns to read it don’t forget for seventyfive or eighty years; write and send your mistress word and give her thanks for teaching your lips to pray, and tell her to get right, if she ain’t right”; and then there rose a dead head before me, with rotten teeth; the head seemed all torn up, a terrible sight; the sight made me sick and blind for three days. A woman in the presence of me said, “Give me a pipe of tobacco”; another one said, “You don’t use tobacco, just use at it” [i.e., “you don’t use very much tobacco”]; a voice said, “Go and set you out a tobacco plant, and let it grow to about one and a half feet, and there is a little worm on the plant.” And he showed me the plant, a pretty green plant, and I never saw as pretty a tobacco plant—“the worm eats it and lives on it. Methodists live by the power of God, the Baptists live off of grace; go and tell all the Methodists they are wrong.” Three days after that I was in the field ploughing, a sunshiny morning; there came a west wind as a fire and lifted me up, and showed me a ladder from the

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The South | Sol Lockheart’s Call

northwest, that passed right along by me, about two miles from me; the voice told me to go to it and be baptized. I saw the church, and in it twelve people, and in the pulpit a colored man preaching. I could see half his body; the twelve people were in front of him, and I saw myself sitting behind him in the pulpit, and by that spirit and that sign I was showed I was called to preach. The end of the ladder at the church was light and bright; the end away from the church ran up into the sky and was dark; if it had a been bright I would have seen into heaven. I told my experience in April eleven years ago, and was baptized the third Sunday in May. As my experience I told the three deacons and our minister what I had seen and heard. When they carried me to the water I lost my sight again, got into the water about waist deep; my breath left me; a voice spoke at my right ear, “Brother Lockheart, I baptize you.” I was sick all the time from the time I saw the head till I was baptized. Tuesday night, after I was baptized, I fell from my chair dead, and when I fell back a cloud passed over me darker than any black night, and from that I got well; that night was the best night’s rest I ever had. Two days after that I was ploughing in the field, turned my mule round and sat on my plough-stock; a voice spoke in midday, “What makes me Black?” The skin and hair shows it; if you look upon a hill and see two black men standing, you say there stands two Blacks; if you see two white men, you say there stands two white men; that is to show the difference between the two, skin and hair. I saw the master and servant walk out one day; the master got snake-bit, but by the help of God he got well, and he found the servant, the black man, knew the snake was there before it bit him, but would not tell him. The master would never like the servant no more for not telling him. The servant wants the master to tell him the terror that is in death and hell, but he won’t tell him on account of the snake. Now you can see clearly to pull the mote out of your brother’s eye. Two days after that I saw the heavens open and a white cloud come out about the size of a man’s hand; it spread to the size of a table-cloth, closed to the size of a man’s hand again, then again spread out to the size of a table-cloth and then closed out of sight, like a door closing in the heavens: then the next day, early in the morning, I saw the spirit of God, like a bird, like a rain-crow in shape, but the color of a dove: it had wide wings; as it passed by on the right side, it burnt inside of me like a flame of fire, and run me nearly crazy for about five minutes, and then I was all right again. About a week after that I was walking along from the field, when the horn blew for dinner. I walked right up to a coffin on two little benches; it was painted a dark red, and on each side were silver handles, and when I first saw it I was badly frightened and stopped and

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looked in it, till when I got quiet, it was empty, but lined, with a pillow at the head. When I got over my fear a voice spoke at the head of the coffin and said, “Your body shall lie in that and rest in the shade,” and then, as soon as the voice ceased speaking, the coffin disappeared, and then I began preaching. About a year after I was called, I went on a journey preaching. I walked all the way for about forty miles. I walked, for the commandment says you must not use your critter on the Sabbath day. When I was coming home, I felt great pain, as if someone was driving nails in me. It was nine o’clock Saturday morning. Sunday morning about the same time, I saw in the road before me the likeness of a man, clothed in a long white gown; he turned my mind round, just like a wheel turning round. The next day, at the same time, I saw the same spirit again, who said to me, “You have a purple gown made like mine.” The spirit looked like a young white man, clean-faced; his hair was kinder straw-colored, and hung down to his shoulders. For three days he kept after me till I had one made, and on a Friday I felt something in my shoes. I couldn’t keep them on, until Saturday evening, and then a voice spoke and said, “Take off those shoes and go to Cermonia church to-morrow barefoot and preach.” I now preach like the Apostles, with my purple gown on and barefoot, at my own church, Mt. Pleasant, near Grovetown, Georgia. One night I prayed to the Lord to let me visit Heaven, and then fell into a deep sleep, and then I began a journey up in the sky. I soon came to a fine building, and it was paled round with white palings. I walked up in front of the gate; the gate was shut. I looked through the gate, and saw a white man standing in the door of the house. The house was built round, of white stone, and the house was full of windows, as high as I could see. I could not see to the top of the house. All the windows were full of little children. I didn’t see any grown folks there I expect, what I see and know in this world, they are powerful scarce up there in Heaven.

WHERE DID ADAM HIDE? Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 371–72. Date: 1919 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

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The South | Possessed of Two Spirits

The following joke plays three stock characters from American regional folklore against each other: the preacher, the drunkard, and the beleaguered wife. The comic misunderstanding of conversations due to rural backwardness is a common motif.

D

e preacher went out to see an ol’ woman who lived out so far, never did get to church. He asked if she heard ’bout Jesus, ’bout how he died.

“Is he dead? I didn’ know he was dead. You wouldn’ know yourself, bein’ back here in de woods. An’ I don’ take de paper.” De preacher said he would come next week to catechize them. Nex’ week she sent de ol’ man, Adam, to de store to buy molasses. Adam took the money and bought some liquor. She sent de boy to de neighbor, Sister Clarinda, to borrow some ’lasses. Sister Clarindy didn’t have but a cupful, so she let her have dat. She made de molasses pone (flat cake made with cornmeal). Adam came in drunk. She put him under de bed. Tol’ him to stay dere. She didn’t want de preacher to see him. So after dinner de preacher got his catechism out an’ ask some questions. “De Lord made Adam firstest, den he made Eve lastest. Put them together. One day de Lord came an’ called, ‘Adam!’ He called again, ‘O Adam!’ De Lord got mad, an’ hollered, ‘You Adam!’ Now, where did Adam hide when de Lord call um?” De ol’ woman said, “Somebody been tellin’ you somet’in’.” “Now, my sister, dis is de catechism.” “Ain’t somebody been tellin’ you somet’in’?” “I don’ know, my sister. Dis here was de catechism. Adam was in de garden. Adam hide. Now, I’m askin’ you dis question, ‘Where did Adam hide when de Lord call?’” De ol’ woman put her head under de bed an’ call, “You, Adam, come f’om under dat bed! Come on out! De preacher done know all ’bout you. You come out from there!”

POSSESSED OF TWO SPIRITS Tradition Bearer: Braziel Robinson Source: Steiner, Roland. “Braziel Robinson Possessed of Two Spirits.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 226–28.

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In terms of structure, “Possessed of Two Spirits” is best classified as a personal experience narrative. In terms of function, this first-person account of an individual experience serves as a belief tale because it exemplifies and reinforces the narrator’s belief in the powers of conjuration (supernatural manipulation) possessed by root doctors (spiritual practitioners from African American tradition). The overall system mastered by conjuremen or root doctors has been labeled hoodoo, and these experts are often referred to as “two-headed doctors” in tribute to their cognizance of both the natural and supernatural world. The present narrative contains references to both culturally specific beliefs (the power of graveyard dirt, sometimes called “goofer dust,” to affect the living) and more universal folk beliefs (the powers of second sight conferred by being “born with the caul,” a delivery in which the birth sac is draped over the newborn’s face). Typically, the more tightly structured of Robinson’s narratives (such as his being conjured in May 1898) are framed by affirmations and descriptions of belief in the supernatural.

I

am not a preacher, but a member of the church, but I can make a few remarks in church, I have a seat in conference, I can see spirits, I have two spirits, one that prowls around, and one that stays in my body. The reason I have two spirits is because I was born with a double caul. People can see spirits if they are born with one caul, but nobody can have two spirits unless they are born with a double caul, very few people have two spirits. I was walking along and met a strange spirit, and then I heard a stick crack behind me and turned round and heard my prowling spirit tell the strange spirit it was me, not to bother me, and then the strange spirit went away and left me alone. My two spirits are good spirits, and have power over evil spirits, and unless my mind is evil, can keep me from harm. If my mind is evil my two spirits try to win me, if I won’t listen to them, then they leave me and make room for evil spirits and then I’m lost forever, mine have never left me, and they won’t if I can help it, as I shall try to keep in the path.”

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The South | Possessed of Two Spirits

Here he took the quid of tobacco out of his mouth, and rolling it in his hand for a few minutes, resumed: “Spirits are around about all the time, dogs and horses can see them as well as people, they don’t walk on the ground, I see them all the time, but I never speak to one unless he speaks to me first, I just walk along as if I saw nothing, you must never speak first to a spirit. When he speaks to me and I speak back I always cross myself, and if it is a good spirit, it tells me something to help me, if it is a bad spirit, it disappears, it can’t stand the cross. Sometimes two or more spirits are together, but they are either all good, or all bad spirits, they don’t mix like people on earth, good and bad together. “Good spirits have more power than bad spirits, but they can’t help the evil spirits from doing us harm. We were all born to have trouble, and only God can protect us. Sometimes the good spirits let the evil spirits try to make you fall, but I won’t listen to the evil spirits. “When a person sees a spirit, he can tell whether it is a good spirit or a bad spirit by the color, good spirits are always white, and bad spirits are always black. When a person sees a bad spirit, it sometimes looks like a black man with no head, and then changes into a black cat, dog, or hog, or cow, sometimes the cow has only one horn and it stands out between the eyes. I never saw them change into a black bird; a man told me he saw one in the shape of a black owl; but I have seen good spirits change into white doves, but never saw one in shape of a cat, have seen them in the shape of men and children, some with wings and some without, then I have seen them look like a mist or a small white cloud. When a person is sick and meets good. spirits near enough to feel the air from their bodies, or wings, he generally gets well. Anyone can feel a spirit passing by, though only a few can see it. I’ve seen a great many together at one time, but that was generally about dusk. I never saw them flying two or three along together. Good and bad spirits fly, but a bad spirit can’t fly away up high in the air, he is obleeged [obliged] to stay close to the ground. If a person follows a bad spirit, it will lead him into all kinds of bad places, in ditches, briers. A bad spirit is obleeged to stay in the body where it was born, all the time. If one has two spirits, the one outside wanders about, it is not always with you. If it is near and sees any danger, it comes and tells the spirit inside of you, so it can keep you from harm. Sometimes it can’t, for the danger is greater than any spirit can ward off, then one’s got to look higher. “I’ve heard spirits talk to themselves, they talk in a whisper like, sometimes you can tell what they’re saying, and sometimes you can’t. I don’t think the spirit in the body has to suffer for the sins of the body it is in, as it is always telling you to do right. I can’t tell, some things are hidden from us.

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“People born with a caul generally live to be old. The caul is always buried in a graveyard. “Children born with a caul talk sooner than other children, and have lot more sense. “I was conjured in May 1898, while hoeing cotton, I took off my shoes and hoed two rows, then I felt strange, my feet begun to swell, and then my legs, and then, I couldn’t walk. I had to stop and go home. Just as I stepped in the house, I felt the terriblest pain in my jints [joints], I sat down and thought, and then looked in my shoes, I found some yaller [yellow] dirt, and knew it was graveyard dirt, then I knew I was conjured, I then hunted about to find if there was any conjure in the house and found a bag under my doorstep. I opened the bag and found, some small roots about an inch long, some black hair, a piece of snake skin, and some graveyard dirt, dark-yaller, right off some coffin. I took the bag and dug a hole in the public road in front of my house, and buried it with the dirt out of my shoes, and throwed some red pepper all around the house. I didn’t get any better, and went and saw a root-doctor, who told me he could take off the conjure, he gave me a cup of tea to drink and biled [boiled] up something and put it in a jug to wash my feet and legs with, but it ain’t done me much good, he ain’t got enough power, I am gwine [going] to see one in Augusta, who has great power, and can tell me who conjured me. They say root-doctors have power over spirits, who will tell them who does the conjuring; they ginerally [sic] uses yerbs [herbs] gathered on the changes of the moon, and must be got at night. People git conjur[e] from the root-doctors and one root-doctor often works against another, the one that has the most power does the work. “People gits most conjured by giving them snake’s heads, lizards, and scorpions, dried and beat up into powder and putting it in the food or water they drink, and then they gits full of the varmints; I saw a root-doctor cut out of a man’s leg a lizard and a grasshopper, and then he got well. Some conjur ain’t to kill, but to make a person sick or make him have pain, and then conjur is put on the ground in the path where the person to be conjured goes, it is put down on a young moon, a growing moon, so the conjur will rise up and grow, so the person stepping over it will git conjured. Sometimes they roll it up in a ball and tie it to a string and hang it from a limb, so the person to be conjured, coming by, touches the ball, and the work’s done, and he gits conjured in the part that strikes the ball, the ball is small and tied by a thread so a person can’t see it. There are many ways to conjur, I knew a man that was conjured by putting graveyard dirt under his house in small piles and it almost killed him, and his wife. The dirt made holes in the ground, for it will always go back as deep as you got it, it goes down to where it naturally belongs.

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The South | Miller’s Witch Wife

“Only root-doctors can git the graveyard dirt, they know what kind to git and when, the hants [haunts, i.e., ghosts] won’t let everybody git it, they must git it thro’ some kind of spell, for the graveyard dirt works trouble ’til it gits back inter [into] the ground, and then wears off. It must git down to the same depth it was took from, that is as deep as the coffin lid was from the surface of the ground.”

MILLER’S WITCH WIFE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 115. Date: 1894 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: Anglo American

The belief in the witch’s ability to transform into the shape of another creature by literally taking on the skin of an animal or by using other means of ritual transformation is widely held. An equally familiar motif in stories of supernatural transformation is the exposure of the shapeshifter by means of a mutilation that has occurred when he or she was in altered form and persists after the return to human shape.

M

r. H owned a mill among the Smoky Mountains in Georgia. Three of his millers died successively of some obscure disease that the doctors could not diagnose. All these men were unmarried, and lived in the mill itself. Their illnesses were brief, and it was observed that when attacked they all vainly attempted to make some communication to their friends. This it was supposed had reference to the mysterious cause that hurried them to the grave. People began at once to feel a dread of these premises, and particularly of a long, low room off the entrance, in which these unfortunate men sat of an evening and slept. Nobody could be induced to take the place made vacant, and

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it seemed as if the establishment was to be abandoned, when one of the neighbors who lived a short distance down the stream volunteered to run the mill. He ground his axe, and came the same evening. While kindling a fire on the hearth a brindled cat glided out of the chimney, and without exciting any special attention on his part at this time, ensconced herself in a dark corner near the door. He soon had a cheerful blaze, and sat down by a table in front of it to read his Bible. But as time passed a feeling of uneasiness, of which he was conscious from the first, grew upon him, and gradually deepened into a kind of horror. It was utterly unconnected with any definite apprehension, or sense of real danger. Then the cat got up and wailed at the door, clawing to be let out. She rubbed against his legs, and looked up at him. Instantly an awful half-recognition of those eyes shot through his brain, and leaping up he seized the axe and struck at her, cutting off one foot. With a wild woman’s scream the creature darted up the chimney and disappeared, while he, thoroughly unnerved, hastened home, and found his wife bleeding to death from a severed hand.

PHOEBE WARD, WITCH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Cross, Tom Peete. “Folk-Lore from the Southern States.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 254–55. Date: 1909 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: Anglo American

The fear of the night hag (the witch who comes in the night) is a terror that crosses cultures and regional boundaries. The following legend cycle alludes to many of the widely held beliefs about this supernatural figure, including her need to remove her skin, her ability to slip through tiny openings, and the ways of repelling her attacks.

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The South | Phoebe Ward, Witch

T

he early years of Phoebe Ward, witch, are shrouded in mystery. It is known that she was a woman of bad morals. No one seemed to know anything of her past. She was an old, old woman when this account begins. “Phoebe Ward had no fixed home. She lived here and there, first at one place and then at another in Northampton County, North Carolina. She stayed in a hut or any shelter whatsoever that was granted her. “She made her living by begging from place to place. Most people were afraid to refuse her, lest she should apply her witchcraft to them. When she found a house at which people were particularly kind to her, there she stopped and abused their kindness. Hence the people resorted to a number of methods to keep her away. For instance, when they saw her coming, they would stick pins point-up into the chair-bottoms, and then offer her one of these chairs. It is said that she could always tell when the chair was thus fixed, and would never sit in it. Also, they would throw red pepper into the fire, and Phoebe would leave as soon as she smelled it burning. “Among her arts it is said that she could ride persons at night (the same as nightmares), that she could ride horses at night, and that when the mane was tangled in the morning it was because the witch had made stirrups of the plaits. She was said to be able to go through key-holes, and to be able to make a horse jump across a river as if it were a ditch. She was credited with possessing a sort of grease which she could apply, and then slip out of her skin and go out on her night rambles, and on her return get back again. It is said that once she was making a little bull jump across the river, and as she said, ‘Through thick, through thin; ’way over in the hagerleen,’ the animal rose and started. When he was about half way over, she said, ‘That was a damn’d good jump,’ and down the bull came into the river. (The witch is not to speak while she is crossing.) “To keep the witch away people nailed horse-shoes with the toe up over the stable-doors. To keep her from riding persons at night, they hung up sieves over the door. The witch would have to go through all the meshes before she could enter, and by the time she could get through, it would be day, and she would be caught. “Phoebe came near meeting a tragic death before her allotted time was out. One night several men of the neighborhood gathered around a brandy-barrel. As the liquor flowed, their spirits rose, and they were on the lookout for some fun. “They went over to where Phoebe was staying and found her asleep. Thinking she was dead, they shrouded her, and proceeded to hold the wake. They were soon back at their demijohns, and while they were standing in one corner of the room drinking, there came a cracked, weak voice from the other corner, where the supposed corpse was lying out, ‘Give me a little; it’s mighty cold out here.’

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“They all fled but one, Uncle Bennie, and he was too drunk to move. When things became quiet and Phoebe repeated her request, he said, ‘Hush, you damn’d b—h, I’m goin’ to bury you in the mornin’.’ “The others were afraid to return that night, but did so the next morning, and found Bennie and Phoebe sitting before the fire, contented, warm, and drinking brandy. “After this Phoebe lived several years, making her livelihood by begging. Her last days were as mysterious as her early life had been.”

A BEWITCHED CHURNING Tradition Bearer: Mr. Howard Source: Wiltse, Henry M. “In the Southern Field of Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 210–11. Date: 1900 Original Source: Tennessee National Origin: Anglo American

This legend embedded within a personal experience narrative gives the account of the narrator’s being compelled to sign the book of witches. He alleges that he acquired an ability to manipulate others and recalls being ridden by witches to nocturnal gatherings. The latter is a variant of the “night hag” belief discussed in the introduction to “The Witch and the Boiler” (p. 178).

I

was working for a man,” he said, “whose wife was regarded as a witch. One day I saw her put a very small quantity of milk into the churn and go to churning. There was not over a teacupful, or such a matter, of it. But after a while I saw her put some white powder into it. She got a big lot of butter. I noticed where she put the powder, and the first chance that I got I stole some of it and went home.

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The South | The Raven Mocker

“I asked mother to let me have some milk. She thought I wanted it to drink, and gave it to me. But I put it in the churn, put in some of the powder, and I got more butter than she usually got from a whole churn full of milk. “On my way back to the farm where I worked I met a very small, darkhaired, red-complected man, that I had never seen before. He said to me, ‘You have used some of my material, and now you must put your name in my book.’ “I asked him what he meant, and he said I had made butter with his material, and I’d got to put my name down in his book. I hated like the mischief to do it, but was afraid of him, and decided to do what he said. So, following his directions, I scratched my arm until the blood came, and with it I wrote my name in a little book which he handed to me. He then went away, seeming to feel satisfied, and I have never seen him since.” The old man told Mr. Howard that the witches had several times turned him into a horse and had ridden him off to their night frolics. He could remember distinctly looking at himself and thinking with pride what a fine horse he was. He said that on one of these occasions they rode him through a lot of brierbushes, and the next morning his hands were full of briers. He also claimed to have learned the secrets of witchcraft, and declared that he could do anything with Mr. Howard that he pleased by simply thinking it, and offered to demonstrate his ability to do so by practical experiments.

THE RAVEN MOCKER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Pages 401–3 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. Date: 1898 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

In traditional Cherokee theories of disease causation and cure, death is due to a personal attack, which may come from a nonhuman supernatural

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source or from a human agent such as a witch. The witch, in general, carries out his or her mischief under cover of darkness; therefore, the Cherokee term for witch translates as “night-goer.” In his analysis of Cherokee sacred formulas, James Mooney discusses ravens as agents who never fail to take disease away from the afflicted individual and hide these afflictions in mountain crevices at the cardinal points on the Cherokee compass.

O

f all the Cherokee wizards or witches the most dreaded is the Raven Mocker, the one that robs the dying man of life. They are of either sex and there is no sure way to know one, though they usually look withered and old, because they have added so many lives to their own. At night, when someone is sick or dying in the settlement, the Raven Mocker goes to the place to take the life. He flies through the air in fiery shape, with arms outstretched like wings, and sparks trailing behind, and a rushing sound like the noise of a strong wind. Every little while as he flies he makes a cry like the cry of a raven when it “dives” in the air—not like the common raven cry—and those who hear are afraid, because they know that some man’s life will soon go out. When the Raven Mocker comes to the house he finds others of his kind waiting there, and unless there is a doctor on guard who knows bow to drive them away they go inside, all invisible, and frighten and torment the sick man until they kill him. Sometimes to do this they even lift him from the bed and throw him on the floor, but his friends who are with him think he is only struggling for breath. After the witches kill him they take out his heart and eat it, and so add to their own lives as many days or years as they have taken from his. No one in the room can see them, and there is no sear where they take out the heart, but yet there is no heart left in the body. Only one who has the right medicine can recognize a Raven Mocker, and if such a man stays in the room with the sick person these witches are afraid to come in, and retreat as soon as they see him, because when one of them is recognized in his right shape he must die within seven days. There was once a man who had this medicine and used to hunt for Raven Mockers, and killed several. When the friends of a dying person know that there is no more hope they always try to have one of these medicine men stay in the house and watch the body until it is buried, because after burial the witches do not steal the heart.

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The South | The Raven Mocker

The other witches are jealous of the Raven Mockers and afraid to come into the same house with one. Once a man who had the witch medicine was watching by a sick man and saw these other witches outside trying to get in. All at once they heard a Raven Mocker cry overhead and the others scattered “like a flock of pigeons when the hawk swoops.” When at last a Raven Mocker dies these other witches sometimes take revenge by digging up the body and abusing it. The following is told on the reservation as an actual happening: A young man had been out on a hunting trip and was on his way home when night came on while he was still a long distance from the settlement. He knew of a house not far off the trail where an old man and his wife lived, so he turned in that direction to look for a place to sleep until morning. When he got to the house there was nobody in it. He looked into the sweatlodge and found no one there either. He thought maybe they had gone after water, and so stretched himself out in the farther corner to sleep. Very soon he heard a raven cry outside, and in a little while afterwards the old man came into the sweat lodge and sat down by the fire without noticing the young man, who kept still in the dark corner. Soon there was another raven cry outside, and the old man said to himself, “Now my wife is coming,” and sure enough in a little while the old woman came in and sat down by her husband. Then the young man knew they were Raven Mockers and he was frightened and kept very quiet. Said the old man to his wife, “Well, what luck did you have?” “None,” said the old woman, “there were too many doctors watching. What luck did you have?” “I got what I went for,” said the old man, “there is no reason to fail, but you never have luck. Take this and cook it and lets have something to eat.” She fixed the fire and then the young man smelled meat roasting and thought it smelled sweeter than any meat he had ever tasted. He peeped out from one eye, and it looked like a man’s heart roasting on a stick. Suddenly the old woman said to her husband, “Who is over in the corner?” “Nobody,” said the old man. “Yes, there is,” said the old woman, “I hear him snoring,” and she stirred the fire until it blazed and lighted up the whole place, and there was the young man lying in the corner. He kept quiet and pretended to be asleep. The old man made a noise at the fire to wake him, but still he pretended to sleep. Then the old man came over and shook him, and he sat up and rubbed his eyes as if he had been asleep all the time. Now it was near daylight and the old woman was out in the other house getting breakfast ready, but the hunter could hear her crying to herself. “Why is your wife crying?” he asked the old man. “Oh, she has lost some of her friends lately and feels lonesome,” said her husband; but the young man knew that she was crying because he had heard them talking.

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When they came out to breakfast the old man put a bowl of corn mush before him and said, “This is all we have—we have had no meat for a long time.” After breakfast the young man started on again, but when he had gone a little way the old man ran after him with a fine piece of beadwork and gave it to him, saying, “Take this, and don’t tell anybody what you heard last night, because my wife and I are always quarreling that way.” The young man took the piece, but when he came to the first creek he threw it into the water and then went on to the settlement. There he told the whole story, and a party of warriors started back with him to kill the Raven Mockers. When they reached the place it was seven days after the first night. They found the old man and his wife lying dead in the house, so they set fire to it and burned it and the witches together.

THE WITCH AND THE BOILER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 116–17. Date: 1894 Original Source: Tennessee National Origin: Anglo American

The legend of “The Witch and the Boiler” illustrates common practices attributed to witches and to those who attempt to combat their negative influences. One of the witch’s means of revenge in this narrative is “dancing” on the chest of her victim. In the literature on supernatural assault, this is called being “ridden” (attacked) by a “night hag” or simply “hagging.” These attacks are accompanied by paralysis and a feeling of an oppressive weight bearing down on the chest of the victim. The principles of “sympathetic magic” (the concept that phenomena can be made to influence each other at a distance by means of the proper magical rituals) are seen in the measures taken by the witch doctor, who used the organs of a sheep who was killed by supernatural assault to affect the agent of that attack. At the root of this diagnosis and cure is the principle of contagion: objects that have once been in contact continue to influence each other.

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The South | A Bewitched Gun

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n animal killed by witchcraft should be burnt, partly because that is the best and most effectual way of destroying things that are infected, and also for the reason that in more than one way this may be made to affect the witch; she can be fascinated or punished. One of the parties implicated related the effects of fire in the case of a Tennessean sorceress who had done much harm. An incredulous and stupid person, such as exists in every community, borrowed a boiler from her and refused to return it. Then she came every night and danced on him till he nearly fainted. There was no doubt about this, because she permitted herself to be seen. Each day, also, one of his sheep reared up, gave two or three jumps, and fell dead. At length the “witch doctor” was called in, and he, being a pious man and a member of the church, advised his patient to try the effect of honesty and give back the boiler. This he did, but the witch laughed at him, and things went on as before. It was now evident that her machinations were prompted by malice, and not resorted to from a sense of justice, so the doctor directed him to eviscerate the next sheep that died, to do this alone, and in perfect silence. Moreover, on no account to lend or give away any article, however trifling its value, until the effect of his charm had been fully tried. Having taken out the lungs and heart, they were to be carried home, the kitchen cleared, and these organs laid upon a bed of live embers. While procuring them, the witch’s granddaughter, “a right smart shoot of a girl, training for a witch herself,” saw what he was doing as she passed through his field, and, anticipating the result, ran home, saying that her “Granny” would shortly be ill. Such was indeed the case, for no sooner had the sheep’s vitals been placed upon the coals than her shrieks alarmed the neighborhood. A crowd gathered that seems to have had some inkling of what was going on, for a committee of women inspected the sufferer by force, and found her breast completely charred. The spell was broken before fatal consequences ensued, and from that time the persecutions and losses which had persisted so long came to an end.

A BEWITCHED GUN Tradition Bearer: William T. Howard Source: Wiltse, Henry M. “In the Southern Field of Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 209–10. Date: 1900 Original Source: Mr. Massengale, Tennessee National Origin: Anglo American

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This account of the removal of a negative influence from a bewitched rifle provides supplemental information about the role of the witch doctor in the southern highlands. The legend provides an additional example of the intimate connection between a bewitched object and the source of the bewitchment, as discussed in the introduction to “The Witch and the Boiler” (p. 178).

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r.., was reared in the Cumberland Mountains. I know him as a reliable man. He writes that some years since, while collecting for a sewingmachine company, he passed three days at the home of a Mr. Massengale who was then about eighty years of age, but was as physically and mentally vigorous as most men in middle life. He was a strong believer in witchcraft, and some of the stories which he related Mr. Howard has given me in the old gentleman’s own language, as nearly as he can recall it. “For many years,” said he, “I made my living by hunting, and many deer, bear, turkeys, and all sorts of varmints to be found in these mountings, have I killed. “I was considered a powerful good shot with a rifle, and that I certainly was. “One morning, howsom’ever, I went out, and the first thing I knew I had a fine shot at a big deer, which was standing stock-still, broadside toward me. I raised my gun, took good aim, and expected of course to drop him dead in his tracks. But I missed him, point blank. He made a few jumps and then stood stockstill until I had wasted three shots on him, and hadn’t cut a hair. Then he ran off. “This sort of thing went on for several days. I had lots of powerful fine close shots, but couldn’t hit a thing. “I told my wife that there was something awful wrong, either with me or with the gun. She told me I had better go to the witch-doctor, as it was likely my gun was bewitched. “I went to the witch-doctor, who told me to go into the woods near a certain house, pick out a tree, and name it after the woman who lived there. He said she was a witch, and had bewitched my gun. He said after I had named the tree as he directed I must shoot at it, and listen to see if there was any noise made at the house—for if I hit the tree the witch would be hurt, and then my gun would be all right. “I did as he said, and at the first crack of the gun I heard the woman cry out, as if she had been hit instead of the tree. I went to the tree and found that it

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The South | The Bell Witch

was hit. From that time on my gun was as good as ever, and my shooting was as reliable as it had ever been.”

THE BELL WITCH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Hudson, Arthur Palmer, and Pete Kyle McCarter. “The Bell Witch of Tennessee and Mississippi: A Folk Legend.” Journal of American Folklore 47 (1934): 46–58. Date: 1934 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: European American

This extended version of the legend of one of the South’s most famous hauntings depicts a ghost who shares the qualities of the night hag described elsewhere in this collection (see, for example, “Phoebe Ward, Witch” p. 172): “something cold and heavy had been sitting on her breast, sucking her breath and pressing the life out of her.” Throughout the narrative the old female slave proves to be a living compendium of supernatural lore.

B

ack in the days before the War there lived somewhere in old North Carolina a man by the name of John Bell. Bell was a planter and was wellfixed. He had a good-sized plantation and a dozen slaves of field-hand age, and mules and cows and hogs a-plenty. His family was made up of his wife, a daughter thirteen or fourteen years old they say was mighty pretty, and two or three young-uns that don’t figure much in this story. Until he hired him an overseer, Bell got along fine. The overseer was a Simon Legree sort of fellow, always at sixes and sevens with other folks, and especially with the slaves. He didn’t even mind jawing (arguing) with his boss. They say Mr. Bell was half a mind to fire the scoundrel and hire another one. But he tended to his business. He had a way with the women-folks. Some say he had an eye open for Mary, the daughter. And Mrs.

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Bell stood up for him. So he stayed on for a good while, and the longer he stayed the uppityer he got. Whenever he and Bell had a row—and their rows got bigger and bitterer—the overseer went out and blacksnaked three or four slaves, for they were the only critters in the shape of man that he could abuse without a comeback. He was the worst kind of a bully, and a man of high temper, in fact, a regular overseer of the kind you hear about in Yankee stories. Mr. Bell had a tall temper too, and the men did not spend a lot of time patting each other on the back and bragging about each other’s good points. A stand-up fight was bound to come off. It did. Some say it was about the way the overseer had beat up one of the slaves. Some say it was about something Mr. Bell heard and saw from behind a cotton-house one day when Mary rode through the field where the overseer was working a gang of slaves. Bell went away blowing smoke from his pistol barrel, and mumbling something about white trash. The overseer didn’t go away at all. Of course Bell was brought into court, but he plead self-defense, and the jury let him off. He went home, hired him another overseer, and allowed that everything was settled. But the truth was that everything was now plumb unsettled. That year and the next and the next the crops on the Bell place were an out-and-out failure: bumblebee cotton and scraggly tobacco and nubbin corn. His mules died of colic or some strange disease like it. His cows and hogs got sick of something the horse-doctors couldn’t cure. He had to sell his slaves one by one, all except an old woman. Finally he went broke. He got what he could for his land—lock, stock, and barrel—and moved with his family to Tennessee. They say that where he settled down the town of Bell, Tennessee, was named for him. Anyway, he bought him a house and a patch of land near the home of old Andy Jackson, who had knocked off from being President and was living in a big house called The Hermitage. Not long after the move to Tennessee, strange things began to happen in the Bell home. The children got into the habit of tumbling, or being tumbled, out of bed at least once a week, and of waking up every morning with every stitch of the bed-clothes snatched off and their hair all tangled and mussed up. Now for young-uns to tumble out of bed and to wake up in the morning with their heads uncombed is a mighty strange thing, and the Bells realized it. The children couldn’t explain this carrying-on, for they were always asleep till they hit the floor; and it was a peculiar fact that they were never tumbled out while awake. The old slave woman told them it was the ha’nt (“haunt,” ghost) of the overseer Mr. Bell had killed that was pestering the children. She was as superstitious as any other slave, and she said she had always felt jubous about what the ha’nt of a man like the overseer would do. But she had spunk, and one day

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she allowed she would find out whether she was right by spending the night under the young-uns’ bed. In the middle of the night Mr. and Mrs. Bell were fetched out of their bed by a squall like a panther’s. When they lit a lamp and ran into the room, they found the old slave woman sprawled in the middle of the floor, dripping cold sweat like an ash-hopper (receptacle for ashes from a wood-burning stove), her face grayblue as sugar-cane peeling, and her eyes like saucers in a dish-pan. She was stiffjointed and tongue-tied. When they got her sitting up and her tongue loosened, she screeched: “Hit’s him! Hit’s him! ’Fore Gawd, hit’s him! Hit peenched me all over, stuck pins in me, snatched de keenks outen ma haiuh, an’ whup me, bawd Gawd, how hit whup me, whup me limber an’ whup me stiff, whup me jes’ lack him. Ain’t gwine back dauh no mo’, ain’t gwine back dauh no mo’.” The Bells were so scared they told some of the neighbors. Old Andy Jackson heard about it and decided to ride over. He didn’t take any stock in ha’nts, and as he rode through the gate he spoke his mind out loud about tarnation fools that believed slave tales about them. He hadn’t got the words out of his mouth before something whaled him over the head and skipped his hat twenty or thirty yards back down the road. Old Andy didn’t say any more. He motioned his slave boy to hand him his hat, and he went away from there. It seems like the Witch could get hungry like folks, and was satisfied with folks’ grub. But it had to be the best. One day the old slave woman came tearing into the front room where Mrs. Bell was quilting and said the Witch was back in the kitchen drinking up all the sweet milk. Mrs. Bell was scared and said the old woman was lying. “Come see fo’ yo’se’f, missus. Come see fo’ yo’se’f. Ah was back dauh amixin’ up de biscuit, an’ Ah retched ovah to git a cup o’ miu’k, an’ fo’ Gawd, de cup was in de middle o’ de auh, an’ de miu’k was a-runnin’ rat outen hit—an’ hit wa’n’t gwine nowheah, missus—hit wa’n’t gwine nowheah. Jes’ run outen de cup, an’ den Ah couldn’ see hit no mo’.” “You’re just seeing things,” said Mrs. Bell. “Jes’ whut Ah ain’ doin’—ain’ seein’ de miu’k. Go on back in de kitchen efen you don’ believe hit. Go on back dauh an’ look fo’ yo’se’f.... No, ma’am, Ah hain’ gwine back in dat place. No, ma’am, dat ha’nt kin guzzle an’ bile up all de miu’k de cows evah give ’fo’ Ah raise mah finger to stop hit.” Mrs. Bell went back into the kitchen and looked. There was a cup there that had had milk in it, and the milk was gone, sure as shootin’. She was now as scared as the old slave woman, and sent right away for her husband to come out of the field.

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They couldn’t figure out how a ghost could drink milk, or what becomes of the milk if he does. Does the milk dry up into the ghost of itself? If not, where does it go when the ghost swallows it? Ghosts can’t be seen. At least, this one couldn’t. They could see through where it was. If they could see through it, why couldn’t they see the milk as plain when it was inside the ghost as when it was outside? The old slave woman said the milk was running out of the cup, but it “wa’n’t gwine nowheah.” An old Holy Roller preacher from down in Tallahatchie bottom who rode over to talk about it argued that if the old woman’s tale was so, milk must be of a higher class than folks. When it turns into the soul of itself, it leaves nothing behind; but folks leave behind a corpse that must be covered up with dirt right away. Folks argued about it on front galleries in the summer time and around the fire in winter—but they didn’t argue about it on the Bells’ front gallery or by the Bells’ fire. And the preachers preached about it at camp meetings. But the Witch didn’t let up on the Bells’ grub. No one ever saw it; but lots of times some member of the family would see something to eat dive out of the cupboard or pop out of the safe. The Witch’s favorite was cream, and he got to skimming it from every pan in the spring-house. The Bells were never able to get any butter from the churning. Mr. Bell might have stood for having his young-uns’ rest disturbed and his old slave woman all tore up this way, but he couldn’t stand for letting the ghost eat him out of house and home. So he called the family together and allowed he would move again—this time to Mississippi, where land was rich and cheap. Mrs. Bell raised up. “Pa,” said she, “it seems like to me we have been gettin’ along tolerable well here. I don’t see any use moving away. What would be to keep the Witch from following us down there?” “Nothing in the world,” spoke up a hide-bottomed chair from a corner of the room. “I’ll follow you wherever you go,” the Chair went on. “And I’ll tell you what: if you stay on here, I won’t bother you much; but if you go traipsing off to Mississippi—well, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” Mr. Bell was scared and bothered, but he studied a while and screwed up his courage enough to ask the Witch why he couldn’t live where he pleased. But there was no answer. He asked some more questions. But the Chair had lapsed into the habit of silence that chairs have. Mary, Mr. Bell’s daughter, was now old enough to argue with the old folks about things. She was pretty as a spotted puppy, they say, and had lots of spunk and took after her pa. She sided with him. Girls always like to be moving. So when the family got over its scare about the Chair they argued back and forth. But finally Mrs. Bell and what they remembered about the Witch

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got the upper hand. Mr. Bell and Mary gave up the idea of moving to Mississippi—for a while anyway. And for a while the Witch eased up on them. It even did some good turns. One day Mr. Bell was talking of visiting a family across the creek where he had heard everybody was sick. “I have just come from there,” said a Voice from the eight-day clock, and went on to tell how well everybody was and what everybody was doing. Later Mr. Bell met up with a member of the family and learned that everything the Witch said was so. Maybe because she had taken sides with him in the argument about going to Mississippi, the Witch was partial to Mrs. Bell. The old slave woman said the ha’nt sided with her because she had stood up for the overseer when Mr. Bell wanted to fire him in North Carolina. One Christmas time the family was invited to a taffy-pulling. Mrs. Bell was sick and couldn’t go. They talked about whether they ought to go off and leave their mammy feeling poorly. Mr. Bell was invited too, and they needed him to do the driving; so Mary and the children begged him to take them. Mrs. Bell told them to go ahead, she didn’t need them and could make out all right. So they all piled into the wagon and started. But before they got far one of the wagon wheels flew off and let the axle down into the road with a bump. It looked like a common accident, and the old man climbed down and put the wheel back on the axle and stuck the linchpin in. He looked at all the other linchpins and saw they were on all right. Before long another wheel flew off. They looked on the ground for the linchpin but couldn’t find it there. Mr. Bell whittled a new one, and when he went to put the wheel back on he found the old one in place. He fixed the wheel and drove off again, telling all of the children to watch all of the wheels. Soon they saw something like a streak of moonshine dart around the wagon, and all four wheels flew off, and the wagon dropped kersplash into a mud-hole. They put them back on, turned round, and drove back home, going quiet and easy, like sitting on eggs. When they got there, they found their mammy sitting up by the Christmas tree eating a plate of fresh strawberries, and feeling lots better. Other pranks were laid to the Witch. Often when the old man and the boys would go to the stable to catch the horses and mules for the day’s plowing or a trip to town, the critters would back their ears and rare and kick and stomp like hornets or yellow-jackets were after them. Some morning they would be puny as chickens with the pip, and caked with sweat and mud, and their manes and tails tangled in witch-locks. The neighbors said that off and on they met an unbridled and barebacked horse, and the horse would stop, and something on

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his back that they couldn’t see would talk to them—but not long—they had business the other way. Maybe because Mary had sided with her pa against her mammy and the Witch, the Witch was harder on her after the argument than on anybody else. She would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying that something cold and heavy had been sitting on her breast, sucking her breath and pressing the life out of her. One time she was getting ready to go to a play-party. Some of the young sprouts were waiting for her in the front room. While she was combing her long, black hair, it suddenly was full of cuckleburs. She tugged and pulled and broke the comb to untangle it, and when she couldn’t, she leaned on the bureau and cried. “I put them in your hair,” said the Witch from the looking-glass. “You’ve got no business going to the party. Stay here with me. I can say sweet things to you.” She screamed, and the young fellows rushed in the room, and when she told them about the Voice they shot at the glass with their pistols. But the glass didn’t break. And the Witch caught every bullet and pitched it into their vest pockets and laughed. So they called it a draw and went out of there. And Mary stayed at home. Mary was now mighty near grown. She had turned out to be a beautiful woman. She had lots of beaux. But whenever one of them screwed himself up to the point of popping the question he always found that the words stuck in his throat and his face and ears burned. For young fellows these were strange signs. But it was always that way. And none of them seemed to be able to ask Mary the question. They laid it on the Witch, and finally quit hitching their horses to the Bell fence. All but one. His name was Gardner. He was a catch for any girl, smart as a briar, good-looking, easy-going and open-hearted, and the owner of rich bottom land, a passel of slaves, and a home as big as the courthouse, with columns as tall and white. He got all wrapped up in Mary, and they say Mary was leaning to him. The way of the Witch with him was different, more businesslike. Maybe it was because the Witch realized this was the man Mary was setting her heart on. One night when Gardner was walking up the row of cedars in the Bell yard to see Mary, something he couldn’t see reached out from a big cedar and touched him on the shoulder, and a voice said, “Wait a minute.” Gardner was afraid to wait, but he was more afraid to run. So he waited. “You might as well understand, here and now, that you are not going to have Mary Bell.” “Why not?” Gardner asked.

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“You might have guessed from all that’s happened round here. I’m in love with her myself. It’s going to be hard to get her consent, and it may be harder to get the old man’s. But she’s not going to marry you. I’ll see to that. If you open your mouth about it tonight, you’ll be dead as a door-nail before morning.” Gardner studied a while and said, “If you’d only come out like a man.” The cedar tree stepped out and snatched his hat off and stomped it. “Well, I reckon I’ll have to lay off for a while,” says Gardner. “But I do love her, and I’d go to the end of the world for....” “Well, you don’t have to go that far, and it wouldn’t do you any good if you did, and if you love her the only way you can keep her out of hell is to get out yourself. If you keep on hanging round here, I’ll make it hell for you. Now this is how far you go. Pack up your traps and get out of the country, hide and hair. Go any place you think the Bells won’t hear tell of you—and go before breakfast. If you slip out quiet without raising any rookus I’ll never pester you again. What’s more, on the day you get married I’ll give you a pair of new boots you’ll be proud of all your life.” Gardner couldn’t see why the Witch’s promise of a pair of wedding boots was in the same class as the threat of death before breakfast, but he didn’t split hairs, and he didn’t argue any more. He picked up his hat, sneaked back to his horse, and rode off. He never said or wrote a thing to the Bells about what had happened, part because he was scared, but more because he was ashamed of being scared. He left the neighborhood before sunup and moved to the western part of the state. He got somebody else to sell out for him. They say the town of Gardner, where he settled, was named after him when he got old and respected. After he had been there a while he fell in love with a girl and got engaged to her. And they say that when he was dressing for the wedding he couldn’t find his boots. He looked high and low, every place a pair of boots was liable to be and lots of places where they couldn’t possibly be, but no boots could he find. He was about to give up and go to his wedding in his sock feet, when a Voice told him to crawl out from under the bed and look in the bed. And there between the sheets he found a pair of shiny new boots. He put them on and went his way rejoicing and thinking of how well a ghost kept his word, and wondering if the boots would ever wear out and if they were like the Seven-League boots he had read about in old McGuffey. But they looked like natural boots. He told some of his friends how he had got them. They thought he was a liar. But they had to own up they were wrong. One day Gardner’s house-boy made a mistake and carried them instead of another pair to a cobbler. The cobbler said they were in perfect shape, that they

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were not made by mortal hands, and that the soles were sewed on in a way that no man or man-made machine could have stitched them. And there is a lady in this neighborhood who has seen the boots. While Gardner’s mind was getting mossed over about Mary, Mr. Bell decided again to move to Mississippi. It looked like his move from North Carolina was jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but he figured maybe the skillet wouldn’t be any hotter. Gardner’s break-up with Mary and Mary not marrying hung heavy on his mind. Mrs. Bell raised up again, telling him about rolling stones. And the Witch horned in. By this time the family got used to the Witch and would talk free with him, but respectful. Every time the question came up there was a row between Mr. Bell and Mary on one side and Mrs. Bell and the Witch on the other. The old slave woman told Mr. Bell the ha’nt didn’t want him to move because he was afraid of witch hunters in Mississippi. She said there were powerful ones down there. And so one winter after the crops had petered out on him again, he sold his place dirt cheap. But the old slave woman told him to wait till spring to start. She said Easter was early that year and there would be plenty of time to pitch a crop. Good Friday would be a good day to leave, she said, for the ha’nt would have to go back to his grave and stay three days under the ground and would be puny-like several days more. While he was in good working order he could be in two or three places at once and be in any of them in the bat of an eye, but then he would have to lie low, and that would give them plenty of start. So Mr. Bell early on Good Friday stacked his furniture and duds in a couple of wagons, climbed into the front one with Mary, put the old slave woman and his biggest boy into the hind one, and told Mrs. Bell, “Git in with old Patsy if you’re a-comin’, and don’t forgit the young-uns.” And that was the way the Bell family came to Mississippi. Mr. Bell bought him a little place in Panola County, ten miles east of Batesville on the Oxford road. He was all ready to begin life over again without supernatural interference. But the Witch made a quick come-back, not before the family got there, but before they moved into their new home. When Mr. Bell first got to Batesville, or Panola as they called it then, he left the family there and went out to look at the land he aimed to buy. When he got a place that suited him, he went back to town for his family and stuff. There was some sort of hitch, and the wagons did not get started till late in the evening. As the wagons moved slowly out of town, dark clouds began to roll up in the south and west, and before they had gone three miles the storm broke. Dark came on earlier than usual, for the clouds hid the sun. The rain beat down on the wagon covers. Every now and then the lightning flashes lit up the swaying

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trees on each side of the road, the draggle-tailed horses, and the road itself,a long, muddy creek, and then it was dark as a stack of black cats. The folks all stopped talking. There was nothing to listen to but the beating rain and the thunder and the suck of the horses’ feet and the wheels in the mud. All at once the hind wagon, with the family in it, slid to the side of the road and sunk into the mud up to the bed. Mr. Bell saw it in a lightning flash and came back. It couldn’t be moved; the horses had no foothold, and the wheels were in too deep. The fix they were in wasn’t dangerous, but it was mighty uncomfortable. And then the Witch took a hand. “If you’ll go back to your wagon and stop your cussin’,” said the empty dark beside the wagon, “I’ll get you out. Hump it back to your wagon now—light a shuck!” Mr. Bell waded back and crawled in. And then the horses and the wagon and the furniture and the family and the dog under the wagon and the calf tied behind and everything else but the mud on the wheels riz up about eight feet high and floated down the road till they were just behind the front wagon, and then they settled down easy and went on home without any trouble. The family got settled down in their two-story double-loghouse amongst the cedars on the Oxford road. A few nights later, the Witch spoke up from one of the andirons and told Mr. and Mrs. Bell he was in love with Mary. He said he wanted to marry her. Mr. Bell was shocked and surprised. He explained, respectful but emphatic like, that he could never dream of letting a daughter of his marry a ghost, not even so noble a ghost like the one he was talking with. “I got a claim on you, John Bell,” said the Witch. “I got a claim on you and on yours. I got a claim.” And his voice was deep and hollow-like. This was a point Mr. Bell maybe didn’t want to hear any more about. So he said, “Have you spoken to Mary?” “No, not spoken.” “Well, how do you know she would have you?” “I don’t. But I haven’t got any reason to believe she wouldn’t love me. She’s never seen me. She doesn’t know whether she would or not. Maybe she would consider it an honor to be married to a ghost. Not many girls are, you know. Why, it would make her famous.” “I don’t want any daughter of mine getting famous that way. And besides, what if you were to have children? What in the world do you reckon they’d be like? Like you or her? Maybe half good human meat and bone, and the other half sight unseen. Or maybe they’d be the vanishin’ kind and goin’ round here

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and raisin’ hell invisible. Do you think I want a passel of soap-suds young-uns floatin’ round here and poppin’ up into puffs of wind every time I p’inted to the stovewood pile or sprouts on a ditch bank? Not on your life. I reckon plain flesh and blood’s good enough for Mary.” “But, John Bell, I love Mary. And remember. Remember.” “So do I, and that’s why I’m not a-goin’ to let you marry her. Why, when she got old and hard-favored I reckon you’d quit her for some young hussy. You could do it easy enough. Mary’d have a hard time keepin’ up with a stack of wind and a voice, and I’d have a hard time trackin’ down and shootin’ a low-down, no-count dust devil. When Mary marries, she marries a man that’s solid and alive in body.” “I gather, John Bell, that you’re opposed to me courting your daughter. But she’s the one to say, and I’m going to talk to her about it. You’ll be my father-inlaw yet, or you’ll be a-mourning, a-mourning.” “But what kind of wedding would it be like?” Mrs. Bell put in. “Think of it. Mary standing in front of the preacher and the preacher saying, ‘Do you take this woman?’ to a vase of flowers. And the ring floating down to Mary from the hanging-lamp maybe, or rising up from under a bench. I won’t stand for it. I’ve stood for a lot of things, and you can’t say I haven’t been a friend to you. But I won’t stand for Mary being a laughing-stock and disgrace to the family.” “If we’re a-goin’ to add to this family,” Mr. Bell took up, “we’re a-goin’ to be able to see what we’re addin’. I don’t even know what shape you’ve got, if any.” “Oh, I can give you some idea what shape I have. I’ll let you shake hands with me. But you must promise not to squeeze. We’re very delicate, especially when we touch folks. Here, hold out your hand, and I’ll put mine in it.” Mr. Bell held out his hand, felt something, and grabbed it. It was, he said later, the hand of a new-born baby—soft and crinkly and warm and just about the size of a new-born baby’s hand. “How big are you all over?” he asked. “I can’t tell you that.” “Well, there’s one other thing I want to know. How do you get into this house any time you want to when every window and door is locked and barred? Do you ooze through the walls?” “No. It’s a lot easier than that. If you’ll watch the corner of the ceiling up there, you’ll see.” And all the rest of his life Mr. Bell swore to trustworthy witnesses that he saw the corner of the ceiling raised a good three feet and then let down again, all without the slightest racket. “Do you mean to tell me that anything with a hand like that can h’ist the top off of the house that a-way?”

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“Sure,” came the answer. “But about Mary. I’m going to talk to her right off.” “Don’t,” said Mr. Bell. “Do you want to drive her crazy?” But the meeting was over, for there was no answer. And the fire had died down, and the andiron looked glum. The story is kind of skimpy here. Nobody seems to know what the Witch said to Mary or what Mary said to the Witch. But the family noticed next day that she was drooping and wasn’t minding what was going on around her. For days she wandered about the house and up and down the yard under the gloomy old cedars, like somebody sleep-walking. And the color left her face, and deep in her wide-open black eyes was a far-away look, like she was trying to see something that ought to be but wasn’t there. Every day she got up later and went to bed earlier. And finally there came a day when she didn’t get up at all. In the evening a screech-owl hollered in a cedar right by the gallery. That night her fever was high, and by midnight she was raving. “We’ve put off seein’ a doctor too long,” said Mrs. Bell. “The roads like they are, it’ll take me two hours goin’ and him and me two hours comin’,” said Mr. Bell. “It’ll be might’ nigh daylight before we get back. But I reckon you’re right, and I’ll go as quick as I can saddle a horse.” “No use,” said a Voice. “All the doctors and medicines in the world won’t cure her. But if you want one, I’ll get him, and get him a lot quicker than you can.” The doctor got there just as the old eight-day clock struck one. “I heard somebody hollering at my window about midnight, telling me to come out here right away. When I got to the door, nobody was there; but I thought I’d better come anyway.” He was a young doctor just starting out. “Say, what kind of road overseer and gang do you fellows have out this way? Last time I came over this road, about Christmas, it was the worst I ever saw. Why, I picked up a Stetson hat in the middle of a mud-hole near the four-mile board, and by George there was a man under it. ‘You’re in the middle of a bad fix, old man,’ I said. ‘Hell,’ he said, ‘that ain’t nothin’ to the fix this mule’s in under me.’ I had to lift up my feet half the way to keep them from dragging in the mud by the horse’s belly. But to-night my horse skimmed over it in an hour. Well, who’s sick out here?” “It’s her mind and nerves,” he told them after he had questioned them and examined Mary. “I won’t conceal from you, she’s in pretty bad shape. And medicine won’t do her any good. You’ve just got to be gentle and careful with her. Humor her and be patient with her. I’ll give her something to put her to sleep when she gets like this. Watch her close and don’t let her get lonesome. She’s young and strong and ought to come round in time.”

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But she never did. For a month she lay there on the bed, looking at nothing and yet straining to see something. Something too far off. At night her pa and ma took turns sitting up. They didn’t want the neighbors in. They called the doctor back a few times, but he shook his head and said he couldn’t do any more. So they would watch and wait, wanting to do something, but helpless. One night her ma was sitting there, holding Mary’s hand and stroking the dark hair back from her forehead. Suddenly Mary pushed her mother away and sat up and looked across the foot of the bed, as if somebody was standing there. “Mamma,” she whispered, “Mamma.... I see him.... at last.... And I think.... I think.... I’m going.... to love him.” And she died with the only expression of happiness they had seen on her face in months. Some folks have tried to explain Mary’s strange death. A few say the Witch tortured her continually and kept her in such constant terror that her mind was affected. Others have heard that a school teacher ventriloquist that was jealous of Gardner played tricks on her and the family, and then when she wouldn’t have him tormented and frightened her to death. Some believe she was in love with the overseer from the first, and then when he was killed she was in love with the Witch and didn’t want to live because she knew she would never be happy with him until she too became a ghost. But she died, just the same. And they say that on the day of the funeral, when the coffin was carried from the house to a wagon a great black bird flew down from the sky and hung in the air just above the wagon. And around its neck was a bell that tolled in the mournfullest tone ever heard by the ear of man. And when the funeral procession began to move, the great bird floated just in front of it all the way to the grave-yard and circled round and round the grave during the burial, the bell tolling all the while. And when the mound was rounded up, the bird swung high up in the air and flew away to the west and finally became just a little speck above the treetops and disappeared. But long after it was gone the mourning notes of the bell floated back to those who stood and watched.

AVENGING GHOSTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 110–11.

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The South | Avenging Ghosts

Date: 1894 Original Source: West Virginia National Origin: Anglo American

The following supernatural legends represent the belief in revenants, deceased persons who appear to the living after death. Belief in revenants is closely linked to the belief systems of the community and their messages concerning not only death but ethics and the appropriate behavior and social roles of community members. It is believed that the appearance of revenants is the result of an unfulfilled duty either on the part of the deceased or the community of the living. In the cases below, the revenants seek the justice that was denied them in life.

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ometimes an apparition comes on a mission of justice; at others, ghosts revisit “the glimpses of the moon,” inspired with the desire for vengeance.

Before the separation of West Virginia from the mother State, Colonel murdered one of his slave women with aggravated circumstances of cruelty. The crime could not be proved against him, and his act remained unpunished by law. But when investigation was at an end, and it became evident that nothing would be done, a white dog made its appearance upon the estate. Numbers saw it, and knew it for a specter by its vanishing while in full view. This goblin brute hunted the man to death. It followed and went before him, came into his room, haunted the guilty being night and day, until he pined away, and, having made a confession, died. * * * miser, whose ruined house still stands, disappeared and was never seen again.

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Two single women, living in a poor way in the neighborhood, suddenly came into possession of money, concerning which they gave an improbable account. Inquiry was made, but it came to naught. The dead man’s ghost, however, headless and bleeding, walked upon the hill where their cottage stood. It passed along the garden fence between sunset and dark, and the elder of these murderesses was soon literally frightened to death.

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Her companion lived longer and suffered more. She wasted away, said one of the many persons from whom I heard this tale, “till nothing of her was left but a little pile of bones.” Then death came, and it took four strong men to lift the coffin in which her body was enclosed. The hidden money was there. * * * headless horseman rides upon the road near Indian Fort, in the foothills of Cumberland Mountain. His story is unknown, and this phantom’s wanderings are apparently objectless. Nevertheless he is ill to meet, for this brings misfortune, and those who have seen it had reason to regret their encounter.

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THE RICH GHOST Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Bunter, Rosa. “Ghosts as Guardians of Hidden Treasure.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 64–65 Date: 1899 Original Source: Southern Workman and Hampton School Record, March 1898. National Origin: African American

A gloss appended to the original source of this tale asserts that, “If [a ghost is] met with courage, he rewards those who speak to him, as he is in many cases the guardian of concealed treasure.” The pale ghost of this narrative manifests a solicitous concern for a living relative and rewards the female protagonist for her help in fulfilling his mission. The belief in the power of reading a Bible verse backward is more commonly associated with evil forms of conjuration rather than exorcisms of this sort, however.

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nce upon a time, in a lonely little house upon a hill, there lived a man and his wife. The husband worked down in the town all day, and the wife worked at home alone. Every day, at noon, when the clock was

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The South | Return of the Ghost Wife

striking twelve, she was startled by the pale, ghost-like figure of a man that stood in the doorway and watched her. She was very much frightened, and told her husband that she could not stay in that house any longer. But they were very poor, and the rent was cheaper than they could find elsewhere. While the husband was looking for another house, the preacher came to see the wife. She told him about the pale-faced ghost that continually watched her. The preacher told her to sit down before her looking-glass with her back to the door and read a certain passage from the Bible backward. Then she must turn her chair around, look the ghost in the face and ask him, “What do you want here?” The very next day she did as she was told. At first her voice trembled and she did not think that she could finish, but strength came to her and she read it. Then she turned upon the ghost and asked him the question. His face was frightful to look upon, but he told her to take her hoe and follow him. He led her to a lonely spot and rolled away a large stone and commanded her to dig. She dug until she was exhausted and the hoe fell from her hand. He jerked it up and dug until she had regained her strength. Then she commenced to dig again and at last struck something hard. He commanded her to stop, then stooped down and with wonderful strength drew up a large earthen pot. Upon taking off the cover, she saw, by the dim light of the setting sun, gold and silver coins in great abundance. The ghost told her to go home and tear the plastering from off the western corner of her little one-room house, and she would find a package of letters. From these she must get his brother’s address and send him half of the hidden treasure. The other half was for herself. She did as she was told. The pale-faced ghost was never seen again, and she was made a rich woman and they lived happily ever afterward.

RETURN OF THE GHOST WIFE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 109. Date: 1894 Original Source: West Virginia National Origin: Anglo American

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The revenants who appeared in the legends titled “Avenging Ghosts” (p. 192) were victims of violent crimes who had returned to pursue justice. The appearance of revenants, therefore, is the result of an unfulfilled duty either on the part of the deceased or the community of the living. In this case, the community of the living (in the person of the ghost’s widowed husband and his new wife) neglected its obligations (the violation of an oath not to remarry) to the dead person (the deceased wife) after death.

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iss F, who was not born on Christmas week, and therefore had no natural power of seeing spirits, related the apparition of her brother’s first wife. This lady was devotedly attached to her husband, and when in the last stage of consumption could not die until he made an oath to remain single for the remainder of his life. Not long after he perjured himself, but the peace of that household was gone. Ever after there was “a sense of something moving to and fro” upon them all. His sister, in common with the rest, heard the sighs and sobs of the disconsolate ghost, she saw her dim figure floating through the dusk, and was chilled to the heart by its icy atmosphere as the spirit went by in passages or upon the stairs.

RIDERS PURSUED BY GHOSTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 110. Date: 1894 Original Source: West Virginia National Origin: Anglo American

The following two legends provide no explanation for the supernatural assaults they recount, beyond the fact that the road by Crackwhip

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The South | The Mysterious Deer

Furnace is “haunted.” The black bear that screams in a human voice suggests the shape-shifting witch motif seen in “Miller’s Witch Wife” (p. 171). The inability of a malevolent supernatural creature to cross running water is a common folk belief in the southern highlands as well as other European American traditions.

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r. B, going home one night by Crackwhip Furnace, then abandoned, beheld the likeness of a black bear in front, but it screamed horribly at him with a human voice. His horse was terrified, and when the thing came nearer and screamed again, he rode for his life. Half a mile away from the spot this same dreadful cry sounded in his ears shriller and more appalling than before. * * * r. C, riding on the same road one dark autumnal evening, suddenly found his mare attacked by an invisible adversary. Blows were struck at her head, but the animal, though snorting, plunging, and rearing in terror, could not stir from the place; something met it at every turn. The rider tried to pray, but in vain. He was able to think the words, yet not to utter them. In his extremity the name of God at last burst from his lips. At once the horse sprang forward, and clasping its neck the pair dashed down hill into a brook. Whatever it was that beset them could not follow across flowing water, but a shriek that shook his heart swept by him as he fled.

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THE MYSTERIOUS DEER Tradition Bearer: A. S. Wiltse Source: Wiltse, Henry M. “In the Southern Field of Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 211. Date: 1900 Original Source: Tennessee National Origin: Anglo American

The following legend operates as a belief tale intended to substantiate the existence of a white deer that displayed an uncanny ability to avoid

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death, screamed with the voice of a human being, and had the ability to exact supernatural revenge on a hunter who had wounded it.

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here is quite a prevalent belief among mountaineers in the existence of a mysterious deer, of which they stand in no inconsiderable awe. I have heard of a hunter in upper East Tennessee, who claims to have shot at this deer, or one of these deer, under a misapprehension. The bullet came back and lodged in his own leg, and he shows the scar in apparent confidence that the evidence is conclusive. Dr. A. S. Wiltse, who has for many years practiced his profession in the Cumberland Mountains, and who takes a deep interest in the mountain people and their peculiarities, writes me this version of the deer myth, secured from a celebrated hunter named Jackson Howard. The language of the original relator is reproduced as nearly as practicable: “El Moore is a good hunter, and a splendid good shot, too. But he gat into a streak o’ mighty ornery luck one time jes’ on account of one of them thar white deer. He tole me all about hit with ’is own lips, an’ El is a mighty truthful man. “He said he war out a’ huntin’ one mornin’, an’ he come onter a white deer, an’ hit war not more ’n fifteen er twenty feet from him. “He fired at hit, but never touch a hair. That deer jes’ stood still until he’d a-wasted seven or eight shots on hit. Then hit run off, an’ he tried his gun on a spot in a tree, an’ the bullet went straight to their mark. “He got his dander up then, an’ laid for that white deer, an’ he wasted a powerful lot more ammunition on hit, until fin’ly ’e plugged hit in the shoulder. “But he was mighty sorry for that, right then an’ for a long time afterwards. He said hit made the sorrowfulest noise ’at he ever heard in all of his life. An’ from that day twelvemonth hit war impossible for El ter kill any kind of deer whatsomever. He could kill other kinds of varmints all right enough, but kill a deer he couldn’t.”

THE BRIDE OF THE EVIL ONE Tradition Bearer: An African American gardener known as “Old William” Source: Cooke, Elizabeth Johnston. “English Folk-Tales in America. The Bride of the Evil One.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 126–30.

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The South | The Bride of the Evil One

Date: 1899 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: African American

This tale of the demon lover who comes to claim the rich, beautiful, and heretofore inaccessible Maritta warns of the dangers of avarice. This narrative plot is distributed cross-culturally. “The Demon Lover” (also known as “James Harris” and “The House Carpenter”) presents the plot in the form of a British ballad. The motifs of the closing test of the Devil’s questions and the Obstacle Flight enjoy a similar popularity. Localization of what is undoubtedly an old tale is seen in Satan’s breakfast of buckwheat cakes and his spending his days in his blacksmith shop overseeing “his hands” at work.

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n former times there lived, on a great plantation far out in the country, the richest and most beautiful lady in the world. Her name was Maritta, and she was beloved by all who knew her, especially so by her parents, with whom she dwelt. She was so rich that one could not count her wealth in many days; and her home was a palace, filled with rare things from all quarters of the globe. Rich hangings of damask and tapestry adorned the walls, and massive and wonderfully carved furniture filled the rooms. Instead of gilt, as is usual in splendid mansions, the mirrors and pictures were framed in gold, silver, and even precious stones. Then, the dining-table was a wonder to behold—glittering with costly glass and golden service. The lady Maritta always ate from a jeweled platter with a golden spoon; and her rooms were filled with wondrous vases, containing delicious spices and rare perfumes of many kinds. Half the brave and daring fine gentlemen of her country had sought her hand in marriage; but her parents always declared that each was not rich enough. So loath were her parents to give her up, that they finally said she should never marry unless she could view her suitor ten thousand miles down the road. Now, as roads in general are not straight for so great a distance, to say nothing of one’s eyesight, the poor lady was quite in despair, and had almost decided to remain a spinster.

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At last the Evil One, seeing the covetousness of this old couple, procured for himself an equipage of great magnificence, and went a-wooing. His coach was made of beaten gold, so ablaze with precious stones that the sun seemed mean in comparison with it. Maritta beheld it thirty thousand miles off, and all the household were called out to view it; for such a wonder had never been seen in that part of the world. But so great was the Evil One’s power for conjuring that he was a very short time in arriving. He drove up to the door with so grand a dash and clatter and style that Maritta thought she had never beheld as princely a personage. When he had alighted most gracefully, uncovering [removing his hat] and bowing to the mother and father, he knelt at the feet of Maritta, kissed her hand, and turning to her astonished parents, asked the hand of their daughter in marriage. So pleased were they all with his appearance that the wedding was hastened that very day. After the marriage compact was completed Maritta bade adieu to her proud parents; and tripping lightly into his coach, they drove away with great effect. Then they journeyed and journeyed, and every fine house or plantation which they approached, Maritta would exclaim, “Is that your home, my dear?” “No, darling,” he would reply with a knowing smile, “my house is another cut to [different from] that.” Still they journeyed, and just as Maritta was beginning to feel very weary they approached a great hill, from which was issuing a cloud of black smoke, and she could perceive an enormous hole in the side of the hill, which appeared like the entrance to a tunnel. The horses were now prancing and chafing at the bits in a most terrifying manner; and Maritta thought she saw flames coming from out their nostrils. just as she was catching her breath to ask the meaning of it all, the coach and party plunged suddenly into the mouth of the yawning crater, and they sank down, down into that place which is called Torment. The poor trembling lady went into a swoon, and knew nothing more until she awoke in the House of Satan. But she did not yet know that it was the Evil One whom she had married, nor that, worse still, he was already a married man when she had made his acquaintance. Neither did she know that the frightful old crone was his other wife. Satan’s manner had also undergone a decided change; and he, who had been so charming a lover, was now a blustering, insolent master. Lifting his voice until it shook the house, as when it thunders, he stormed around, beating the old hag, killing her uncanny black cat, and raising a tumult generally. Then, ordering the hag to cook him some buckwheat cakes for breakfast, he stamped out of the house, towards his blacksmith shop, to see how his hands were doing their work. While the wretched young wife sat in her parlor, looking very mournful and lovely, wiping her eyes and feeling greatly mystified, the old hag was turning her cakes on the

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griddle and growing more and more jealous of this beautiful new wife who was to take her place. Finally she left the cakes and came and stood by Maritta. “My child,” quoth she, “my dear daughter, have you married that man?” “Yes, dame,” replied the pretty Maritta. “Well, my child,” said she, “you have married nothing but the Devil.” At this the wretched young wife uttered a scream and would have swooned again, except that the hag grasped her by the arm, and putting a rough horny hand over Maritta’s mouth, said in a low and surly voice, near her ear: “Hist! Should he hear you, he will kill us both! Only do my bidding, and keep a quiet tongue, and I will show you how to make your escape.” At this Maritta sat up quite straight, and said in trembling tones: “Good dame, prithee tell me, and I will obey, and when I am free, I will send you five millions of dollars.” But the forlorn hag only shook her head, replying: “Money I ask not, for it is of no use to such as I; but listen well.” Then seating herself on the floor at the feet of Maritta, her black hair hanging in tangles about her sharp ugly face, like so many serpents, she continued in this wise: “He has two roosters who are his spies, and you must give them a bushel of corn to pacify them—but I shall steal the corn for you. He also has two oxen; one is as swift of foot as the wind can blow; the other can only travel half as fast. You will have to choose the last, as the swift one is too well guarded for us to reach him. The slower one is tethered just outside the door. Come!” she cried to Maritta, who would have held back, “a faint heart will only dwell in Torment.” At this thought the poor Maritta roused herself, and summoned all her strength. Her hair had now fallen loose and she was all in tears. But she mounted quickly, looking over her shoulder, to see if he was coming even then. “But dame,” cried she, “will he not overtake me, if his ox is so much more fleet of foot than mine?” “Hold your slippery tongue,” replied the hag, “and mark my words. Here is a reticule [a drawstring bag] to hang at your side; this is a brickbat which I put in the bottom, and on that I place a turkey egg and a goose egg. When you feel the hot steam coming near you, drop the brickbat—for he will soon return, and missing you, will start on your chase, mounted on the ox. As he approaches near, you will feel the heat of his breath like hot steam. When you drop the brickbat a wall will spring up from the earth to the sky; and the Devil cannot pass it until he tears down every brick, and throws it out of sight. When you feel the hot steam again, drop the turkey egg, and there will come a river; and when he reaches this river he cannot cross over until his ox drinks all the water. Do the same with the goose egg, and a river will again flow behind you, thus giving

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you more time in which to reach home. Now off with you, and Devil take you, if you don’t hold on tight and keep up your spirits. But, hark ye, if he catches you, I will poison you when you come back. At this terrible threat the lovely Maritta was so frightened that she forgot to thank the old hag or say good-by. In the twinkling of an eye the weird-looking creature had raised her mighty arm, and gurgling out a frightful laugh, she lashed the ox with a huge whip. Away he sped, verily as fleet as the wind, with the beautiful lady clinging on, her arms wound around his neck, and her soft face buried in his shaggy hair. Onward they floated, above the earth, it seemed to Maritta, over hills and plains, through brake and swamp. Just as the lady began to rejoice at being set free, for it seemed a kind ox, and, after all, it was not so very hard to hold on, as she glided along, she heard a piercing shriek behind her; and suddenly a burning hot steam seemed to envelop her. Thinking of the brickbat, in an instant she snatched it from the reticule—almost breaking the eggs in her haste—and flung it behind her, nearly suffocated with the heat. Then she turned to look and lo! A great dark wall shut the awful sight from her gaze. Onward, onward they sped, as she urged the ox by kind words, stroking his great neck with her delicate white hands. After they had traversed a great distance, Maritta began to think of home and the loved ones, when her reveries were broken by a gaunt black hand clutching at her hair over the back of the ox; and again she felt the intense heat. Too terrified to put her hand in the reticule, she gave it a shake, and the turkey egg fell to the ground. On the instant water was flowing all about her, cooling the air and quite reviving her. Then a harsh voice fell upon her ear, crying: “Drink, drink, I tell you; mighty hard on you, but you must drink!” Soon the river was left far behind, and again Maritta aroused herself as she began to notice many familiar landmarks, which told that she was nearing home. After urging the ox on at a great rate for many more miles, she dropped the goose egg, in order to give herself ample time, although as yet she had not again felt the approach of her fiendish husband. At length the welcome sight of her own broad fields greeted her anxious and weary eyes; and soon her dear home arose upon the horizon. With a few more strides the wonderful ox halted at her own very door, and she fell from his back more dead than alive. For some moments she was unable to rise and embrace her alarmed parents, who had seen her approach. They had only had time to retire into the house, when Satan rode up to the steps. Throwing himself from the ox, he banged for admittance, in a vastly different manner from that of his first visit. But the father confronted him, and he had to content himself with talking to Maritta over her father’s shoulders, while

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the poor lady was cowering in a corner of the room clinging to her mother. However, the touch of loving parental arms soon reassured her, and she demanded of Satan what he wished further. “I have,” replied his Satanic majesty, “three questions to propound to you; and if not properly answered, I shall take you by force again to my realms.” Then placing his feet wide apart, with head thrown back, one arm akimbo on his hip, and snapping the fingers of his other hand, he sang in an impudent, swaggering manner: What is whiter than any snow? What is whiter than any snow? Who fell in the colley well? The gentle Maritta lifted her soft eyes, and raising her sweet voice sang in a pure and tender strain: Heaven is whiter than any snow, Heaven is whiter than any snow, Who fell in the colley well? “Yes, ma’am,” replied Satan, rather taken aback. “That’s right.” Then he continued: What is deeper than any well? What is deeper than any well? Who fell in the colley well? Maritta replied in the same strain: Hell is deeper than any well, Hell is deeper than any well, Who fell in the colley well? Again the Evil One took up his strain: What is greener than any grass? What is greener than any grass? Who fell in the colley well? Maritta lifted her voice a third time:

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Poison is greener than any grass, Poison is greener than any grass, Who fell in the colley well? Greatly confounded at her answers, the Evil One stamped his feet in such a manner that smoke and sparks flew upward, and an odor of sulphur filled the room. Then turning on his heels be cried to the mother that he had left a note under the doorsteps with the Devil’s own riddle on it. A thousand or more acres of green corn grew about the house; and the Devil, pulling it all up by the roots, carried it in his hands, tore the roof off the mansion, and raising a fearful storm, disappeared in it. When the storm had abated, the mountains around about were all leveled to the ground. After the panic caused by his wonderful conjuring had subsided, the mother bethought herself of the note, and when found it read as follows: Nine little white blocks into a pen, One little red block rolled over them. None could guess it save Maritta, who said it meant the teeth and tongue.

THE CHOSEN SUITOR: THE FORBIDDEN ROOM Tradition Bearer: Julius Jenkins Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. Pages 47–48 in Folk-Lore of the Sea Islands, South Carolina. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 16. New York: American Folklore Society, 1923. Date: 1923 Original Source: South Carolina National Origin: African American

The following tale presents a “John” character who differs from the African American John or Jack seen in other tales in this collection. The John of “The Chosen Suitor” is a “little boy witch” with a supernatural ability to see the intentions of his sister’s suitors. Rather than seeking his help, the sister forces him to hide when the King comes courting. John’s

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The South | The Chosen Suitor: The Forbidden Room

claims that the King is the Devil in disguise are met with physical abuse. Roger Abrahams, in his book African American Folktales (22–24), explains the power of this stock character by attributing to him the power that comes from living between customary categories as is the case with trickster. When he rescues his sister, the little witch boy uses his power to help them escape the Devil by turning ordinary objects into obstacles to impede pursuit (a folktale motif commonly called the “obstacle flight”). The act results in raised social status for little John. This tale shares with others in the collection the dangers inherent in judging by surface appearances only. Variants of this tale (AT312C, “Devil’s Bride Rescued by Brother”) are found both along the southern coast of the United States and throughout the Caribbean. (Compare the tale to the Caribbean “The Chosen Suitor,” p. 277). The original Gullah rendering of this tale appears in the appendix to this volume (p. 311).

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n’ he [John] had a sister. An’ dis king was payin’ dis boy sister address [courting his sister]. Dis little boy was a witch, could tell whether his sister goin’ to get a good husban’ o’ not. So when dis man come, his sister always put dis boy underneat’ de step, an’ put him to bed. So den dis little boy wake up an’ tell his sister, “Sister, you married to de Devil.” Sister slap him aroun’ an’ kick him, wouldn’ listen de boy. So, sure enough, he [she] married de man against de boy. Man carry his sister from there an’ carry her to his house, little over t’irty or forty miles. So, after carryin’ dis woman many nights an’ many days, dis boy know exactly how dis man was treatin’ his sister. One day de man han’ his wife seven key. An’ he had seven room in de house. But he show him [her] de room, an’ say, “Use de six room; but de seven room don’ use it, don’ go in dat room!” So one day his wife say to herself, “I got all de key. I wan’ to see what is in dat room.” He husban’ been ’bout twenty-five mile from there when she said dat. She wen’ into de room, open de room. When she open de room, was nothin’ but de wife dis man married, de skeleton hung up in de room. Dis one fall down, faint, right to de do’, Less dan half an hour she come to her sense. He lock de do’ back. Gone, set down, take her as the room. Husban’ drive up to de do’ at de time, an’ tell um, “Dis night you will be in dat room.” Forty mile from her broder den. So her broder know dat his sister have a fast’ horse. An’ he took seven needle with him. He started fo’ his sister den. He reached his sister’s place ’bout four o’clock. Sister was to put to deat’ at firs’ dark.

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When he see dat his broder-in-law come, he welcome him like any broderin-law do, like not’in’ goin’ to be done. Dis king ask him what his horse eat? He tol’ him, “I feed my horse wid cotton-seed.” Dis king den had to go half a mile from dis house to his nex’ neighbor to get cotton-seed for his broder-in-law horse. When he gone, he tell his sister, “Sister, take not’in’, jump in de buggy!” Dey had fo’ty miles to go. When he get a half a mile from de house, he han’ his sister dese seven needle. He said, “Sister, he done hitch up his horse, he comin’ after us.” Drop one o’ de needle, an’ it become a swamp across de road. De king drive until he come to de swamp. He had to turn back home an’ get a grubbin’-hoe an’ axe to cut t’rough there. All dat time John was goin’ wid his sister. De king was a witch himself. He cut um so quick, he was on dem again. He [she] drop anoder needle. Den it become a ocean across de road. He had to sup [sip] up all dat water befo’ he could star’ again. When dey was one mile of John house where his sister live, he tell his sister t’row all de needle out his han’. Dey become an ocean. Dey cross de oder side den. He drive down here. When he get to de ocean, he had to stop, couldn’ get any furder. John an’ his sister arrive his of cabin where de king carry her from. An’ dis sister gave de broder what she used to kick about lovin’ praise. An’ John save his sister life.

THE HAUNTED HOUSE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 258–59. Date: 1925 Original Source: Alabama National Origin: African American

Preacher, often a stock character in African American folktales, is tested in this comic narrative and is shown to be less than perfect. Armed with

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The South | Race with a Ghost

his Bible and his religious faith, he takes on the ghosts haunting a house and learns that “Patience” is not always a virtue.

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out a preacher. So was a haunted house. Could nobody stay in it. Everybody go in there, the hants [ghost] run them out. So the preacher says, “I believe I’ll go in that house. Ain’t no hants kin run me out.” So he takes his grip, a hymn book an’ a Bible, an’ he went in the house. An’ so he got in the bed an’ he locked the door before he got in bed. He turned his head over against the wall. The door came open with a slam-bam. So he turned over, look over at the door. So he sees a ghost looked just like a cat settin’ up in a chair with his front paws up. So the man turned his head back to the wall. So after he turned his head back, the door opened again, slam. He was just tremblin’ in bed. Second spirit what come in asked the other what he was waitin’ for. The first spirit said, “Patience.” So they just went to rockin’ in the chair. When the man turned his head again the door opened and slammed again, and another spirit walked in. The spirit said, “What you waitin’ for?” The other spirits said, “Patience.” So all these of ’em went to rockin’. Man was so skeered in bed, he didn’t see no way to git out. They was settin’ between him an’ the door. So they couldn’t skeer him out. The big one said, “What-are-you-waitin’-on?” One of them said, “He-just-havin’-fits-in-the-bed.” The other one said, “Let’s start now.” So the man jumped out of bed clean over their heads an’ ran out the door. So when he got out he looked back at ’em and said, “Tell Patience. I been an’ gone.”

RACE WITH A GHOST Tradition Bearer: Joseph Madden Source: Hubert, Levi. “Interview of Joseph Madden.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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Date: 1938 Original Source: Unavailable National Origin: African American

The following joke depicts the powers of fear of the supernatural to make one of the characters forget the infirmities of age when confronted by a ghost. Given that the tale is set in the South, told by an African American who has migrated to New York, and that the older of the two protagonists is the more obviously frightened, the tale may represent a rejection of what the narrator considers the superstitions of the South. In any case, the grandson rejects all filial duties in an effort to save himself. Along the way he outruns a rabbit, perhaps an unconscious allusion to the notoriously elusive anthropomorphized Rabbit of other African American folktales.

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youth, agile, strong and supple, was walking along a country road, accompanied by his aged grandfather, almost incapacitated by the infirmities of age and compelled to hobble along in an uncertain fashion, assisted by a cane and the firm arm of the grandson. The two were compelled to make frequent halts by the wayside and although they had started their journey while the sun was still high, yet the pauses which the old man requested had stretched their trip until the afternoon sun had long before hidden itself behind the towering pines in the western hills. On one of their pauses they seated themselves on a stone which lay beside the road, and there the old man rested and attempted to catch his breath and fight off the overpowering fatigue which further impeded his slow progress. They had no sooner seated themselves than a ghostly figure also seated himself beside them. “There don’t seem to be but three of us here tonight,” commented the addition to the group. One quick look and the young fellow got to his feet and saw that a cemetery skirted the road at that point. “Yea, but there ain’t gonna be but the two of you in a minute,” so off he went, disregarding his grandfather’s plea not to be left behind. As the grandson

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The South | The Ghost of Alex

ran down the road, he surprised a rabbit hurrying along. “Git outta the way, rabbit, and let somebody run as kin run.” The distance covered by the running youngster was a little over five miles, and he did it in double-quick time. But, just as he reached home and tried to close the door after him, he felt someone pushing against it and heard his grandfather say, “Don’t slam the door in your poor old grandpappy’s face, son.”

THE GHOST OF ALEX Tradition Bearer: Eldora Scott Maples Source: Mosley, Ruby. “Interview of Eldora Scott Maples.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Missouri National Origin: European American

The legend of “The Ghost of Alex,” actually a series of interrelated legends, is an example of family folklore. Although the narratives are performed for outsiders, the primary audience for and focus of the tales is the Scott family. The fact that the narratives began as personal experience narratives recounted by Billy Scott and eventually developed into legends transmitted by his daughter and, presumably, other members of the family speaks not only to the belief in Alex but to the family’s sense of shared identity and history. Among other messages conveyed by the following tale is the sense that there is a continuity of the deceased with the living; the former care about the living and may intervene at important junctures in their lives.

M

y father, Billy Scott, was born in Joplin, Missouri, where he lived most of his life.

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When my father was twelve years of age he heard a strange tap, tap one night as he lay in bed that sounded as if water was dripping from the top of the house down to a feather mattress. The tap, tap come repeatedly through a duration of a year or more before he recognized that some message was trying to be revealed. The tap, tap, tap, appeared so frequently that they soon ceased to be taps but were an insistent stream, then stopped when the usual tap, tap, tap, began as before. While in that lone room in the stillness of the night with blared eyes the constant tap, tap, never varying from sound except by frequency, my father decided that the visitor was a ghost. Many times the entire family searched for the ghastly specter but it was never physically located even though one could hear the sound. One time Grandmother Scott said, “Billy, someone’s spirit has come to watch over you.” It did through the remaining years. My father had tried every way plausible to locate some physical cause of the tapper, although his efforts were in vain. One lonely, quiet night he was listening to the insistent tapping when he decided to talk to his spiritual companion, the question came up as to how he might receive an answer. Finally the two decided to work out a code as: two taps for yes, and one tap for no. Thus the conversation began. Of course father wanted to know who the tapper was and if he was either of his favorite generals, Hannibal or Napoleon; the answer came with one tap which meant no. He asked about several other celebrities and found the tapper to be Alexander the Great, therefore he was and is until this day, called Alex by the Scott generation. He is known by the entire family and is recognized by advice at intervals, which proves helpful in many instances. My father was almost a genius in regard to Latin, Greek and French languages; also a lover of history, therefore he had an understanding of theosophy that would be meaningless to the ordinary person. I will relate several of Alex’s theurgies which saved my father’s life several times. Alex reported the death of my mother’s first born; a son’s life saved when a war ship was blown up. I could name minor incidents reported by Alex that would fill a book. Father, just an ordinary boy at 17 years of age, went over to a boy friend’s to play a little game of poker, lost his money and started home. The vicinity of Joplin was sparsely populated and the wooded section made a very desirable place for a riff-raff of robbers to harbor as there was money in “them there hills,” of the new mining town, as it is today in the oil boom towns. Father was a little shaky as he had to cross a little ravine. The paths were connected by a foot log crossing the stream, a big tree spread her branches in every direction, one going directly over the path. When father came near the tree he was frightened out

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of his wits by hand clutches on his trembling shoulders. He wheeled around to recognize his assailant when he found himself alone. He grabbed a stick and searched the underbrush on either side of the path for his assailant but found no one. He gave up with disgust and turned homeward. As he got back to the big tree he discovered a huge panther sitting on the limb of the tree that extended over the trail. He retraced his tracks, whistled to his boy friends, they brought the dogs and gave chase but the panther disappeared. Father went home and stretched out for a good night’s sleep, when the tap, tap, met his ears. He asked Alex if he had saved him from the panther and his answer was two taps, which meant yes. Alex vanished and didn’t bother any more that night. In case father didn’t recognize Alex’s presence, he was gently touched on the shoulder or an arm. One night Alex was tapping and father was so tired and sleepy he said, “Go away Alex, I’m too tired to talk with you tonight,” Alex continued the tap, tap indefinately [sic] until he became so tiresome that father said, “Get out of here, you damned son-o-a-b.” At these words father was struck on the head by a magic blow of a streak of blind lightning which left him unconscious for hours. The next morning he was so weak that he could hardly get out of the bed of cold sweat. His headache lasted several days and he never refused to recognize Alex [again?]. Alex was silent for several months. Father would call on him and pray that he would return and he did. Alex saved father again, when working in a lead and zinc mine at Joplin. Father’s ears were trained to catch Alex’s taps instantly, as they were unexpected warnings which were often urgent. On this occasion they struck an especially rich vein of lead and zinc. The miners were enthusiastically working to obtain as much ore as possible. Father heard a tap, tap, on his shovel handle and felt the light brush of a magic hand on his shoulder. He felt Alex’s presence, looked up in time to see thousands of tons of dirt caving in when he shouted, “My God, men, get out of the way!” They all dashed down the tunnel where they were saved again. Alex came tapping that night and father thanked him for his warning. The shaft of a mine was dug straight down as a well or cellar, then the vein of zinc or lead was traced and its course was followed as far as the wealth was obtainable. The whole set-up was similar to a large house with a hallway leading to each room. My father and his partner were forty feet below the surface, digging zinc. One that far under the ground never knew what was happening on top. The railroads in the mine were always graveled which caused a grinding sound when walked upon. My father and his partner heard footsteps come to the turn and stop. His co-worker said, “I heard someone coming, Billy.” Then dad answered, “I thought I heard someone too.” They walked around the

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bend and saw no one. When they resumed their work, footsteps were heard again. They knew that they could see anyone that entered the mine, from the place they worked. The footsteps were heard for the third time and dad felt the light brush of someone’s hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here! Something must be wrong,” cried [D]ad. “I’m coming, I won’t stay where hants walk,” replied the partner. They rushed out to the drift in the shaft and before they arrived in the shaft they were met by the water that was waist deep and still flowing in torrents. Dad’s partner couldn’t swim a lick but he helped him to get a hold on the pump. Father rang the bell but no answer came; no bucket was let down to them. The engineer was asleep on the job—I will explain that the engineer’s job was to keep the water pumped out of the mine. The pump was run by steam as there was no electricity in those days; when the fire died out the pump stopped and the engineer slept on, even though the partner was almost exhausted, dad pulled him up the forty foot ladder to safety. Again Alex had saved his life. The workers on top only smiled when dad and his partner related how Alex had saved them, but the partner thanked God for the warning. Father and mother were as elated over their first born as any ordinary new parents, no other child was ever so perfectly sweet. Father was making good money and sent mother on a ten days’ visit with relatives to show the new offspring. Everyone was well and happy. When they had been gone four or five days Alex came to my father in the mines and gave his tap, tap, on the shovel handle. His first thoughts were of mother and baby. He asked Alex if it was his wife. He tapped once, meaning no. A lump came in his throat as he knew it must be the baby. When he hesitated to ask about the baby, Alex kept knocking. Then he asked, “Is it my baby?” Alex tapped twice. He asked if it was sick. Alex tapped once. With a weak body and trembling voice he asked if baby was dead, when the answer was two sad taps on the shovel handle. At these taps father dropped his shovel and went home and waited for a message from mother, which came stating that baby was dead. Alex was a true and faithful spiritual companion that guided the Scott family in many tragical hours. When Bob’s ship went down, Alex comforted the family. My brother, Bob, did service in the World War, his duty was fireman on the W.P.A. San Diego, the largest ship convoy at that time. Father was at his usual task when Alex, true to his watchfulness throughout the many years, come to warn dad about the boy. Naturally in those trying times of war when Alex kept his insistent knocking, dad’s thoughts turned to Bob. As [on?] so many occasions he was reluctant to ask this time if his visit concerned Bob. Finally he secured enough courage to force the words from his lips. Alex’s answer was tap, tap, meaning yes. He asked, “Is Bob dead?” and waited restlessly for the answer. Relief surged through him

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The South | The Spirit Defenders of Nïkwäsï’

and tears came in his eyes as Alex gave one joyous tap, no. Father shouted, “Bob is alive! Bob is alive!” That was all that mattered at that time. Father came running home, telling us that Bob was alive, and found us with broken hearts, grieving over Bob’s death as we had read in the Fort Worth Record where the bottom was blown out of Bob’s ship on the morning of July 19, 1918. Mother’s faith in Alex at that time fell to nothing as she stated, “Alex’s hind end is full of blue mud, Bob can’t be alive.” Later news came that Bob was alive. All belief in Alex was strengthened and the family lived under the guidance of Alex. The Dr. on the ship was a German spy and his communications with friends set the trap to blow the ship up fifty miles from New York, near Fire Island. Thus through the years, Alex warned my father of death and he passed the news on to mother, whose faith was built up enough that she prepared for the departure which came as predicted. Alex comes to Bob and me now but neither of us talk to him. I cannot encourage such a character as it worries me to think of him and if he revealed more I would certainly believe every tap which would cause me to live a life of unrest. Therefore, Alex is regarded as a sacred mystery that runs in the bones of the Scott family. When he taps we know that something is going to happen, good or bad. We never question Alex’s theurgy and receive the tragedies as God sends them.

THE SPIRIT DEFENDERS OF NÏKWÄSÏ’ Source: Mooney, James. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Pages 336–37 in Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. Date: 1898 Original Source: Cherokee National Origin: Native American

In Cherokee belief, the Nûñnë’hï (“the immortals”) were a spirit race who lived much as humans did. They were invisible except when they wanted to be seen. In traditional narrative, they are depicted as benevolent protectors of the Cherokee.

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L

ong ago a powerful unknown tribe invaded the country from the southeast, killing people and destroying settlements wherever they went. No leader could stand against them, and in a little while they had wasted all the lower settlements and advanced into the mountains. The warriors of the old town of Nïkwäsï’, on the head of Little Tennessee, gathered their wives and children into the townhouse and kept scouts constantly on the lookout for the presence of danger. One morning just before daybreak the spies saw the enemy approaching and at once gave the alarm. The Nïkwäsï’ men seized their arms and rushed out to meet the attack, but after a long, hard fight they found themselves overpowered and began to retreat, when suddenly a stranger stood among them and shouted to the chief to call off his men and he himself would drive back the enemy. From the dress and language of the stranger the Nïkwäsï’ people thought him a chief who had come with reinforcements from the Overhill settlements in Tennessee. They fell back along the trail, and as they came near the townhouse they saw a great company of warriors coming out from the side of the mound as through an open doorway. Then they knew that their friends were the Nûñnë’hï, the Immortals, although no one had ever heard before that they lived under Nïkwäsï’ mound. The Nûñnë’hï poured out by hundreds, armed and painted for the fight, and the most curious thing about it all was that they became invisible as soon as they were fairly outside of the settlement, so that although the enemy saw the glancing arrow or the rushing tomahawk, and felt the stroke, he could not see who sent it. Before such invisible foes the invaders soon had to retreat, going first south along the ridge to where it joins the main ridge which separates the French Broad from the Tuckasegee, and then turning with it to the northeast. As they retreated they tried to shield themselves behind rocks and trees, but the Nûñnë’hï arrows went around the rocks and killed them from the other side, and they could find no hiding place. All along the ridge they fell, until when they reached the head of Tuckasegee not more than half a dozen were left alive, and in despair they sat down and cried out for mercy. Ever since then the Cherokee have called the place Dayûlsûñ’yï, “Where they cried.” Then the Nûñnë’hï chief told them they had deserved their punishment for attacking a peaceful tribe, and he spared their lives and told them to go home and take the news to their people. This was the Indian custom, always to spare a few to carry back the news of defeat. They went home toward the north and the Nûñnë’hï went back to the mound. And they are still there, because, in the last war, when a strong party of Federal troops came to surprise a handful of Confederates posted there they saw

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so many soldiers guarding the town that they were afraid and went away without making an attack. * * * here is another story, that once while all the warriors of a certain town were off on a hunt, or at a dance in another settlement, one old man was chopping wood on the side of the ridge when suddenly a party of the enemy came upon him—Shawano, Seneca, or some other tribe. Throwing his hatchet at the nearest one, he turned and ran for the house to get his gun and make the best defense that he might. On coming out at once with the gun he was surprised to find a large body of strange warriors driving back the enemy. It was no time for questions, and taking his place with the others, they fought hard until the enemy was pressed back up the creek and finally broke and retreated across the mountain. When it was over and there was time to breathe again, the old man turned to thank his new friends, but found that he was alone—they had disappeared as though the mountain had swallowed them. Then he knew that they were the Nûñnë’hï, who had come to help their friends, the Cherokee.

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SECULAR TALES

JIM JOHNS AND THE TIGER Tradition Bearer: Sam Chesser Source: Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 410–11. Date: ca. 1914 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: European American

The following personal legend warns of the dangers of the surrounding environment, in this case a swamp at the border of Georgia and Florida where even the most experienced locals can find themselves in peril at any moment. The protagonist is a model for imitation by learning from the potentially fatal incident.

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n the old days Black Jack Island was a virgin wilderness of longleaf pine, miles in area. It was a particularly favored hunting-ground and the scene of many a stirring adventure. The “Tiger” of this story, and of Okefinokee speech in general, is the Florida Cougar (Felix coryi), which has lingered in the swamp fastnesses almost, if not quite, to the present day.


Sam Chesser, the elder brother of Allen, was also given to reviving old memories during his occasional visits to camp. “Did my buddy ever tell you of the Tiger that Jim Johns run into over on Black Jack? The three of us wuz over there on a big hunt. We carried Jim along with us. We trained ’im up, an’ he become a good hunter. “Allen wuz off some’eres, an’ Jim an me made a sets fer Deer. Then Jim wanted ter go fire-lightin’ on that night, but I wuz worried out an’ stayed in camp. So Jim went down the island with ’is lantern. The woods is right open there, with palmetto bushes about that high [indicating a height of about three feet]. Wal, Jim seed a yearlin’ fawn or two, their eyes shinin’ in the light. Then when ’e got closer, he seed some big eyes a-shinin’, right down in the grass. He thought it ’uz a Coon er somethin’, an’ moved on up. Finally he saw two big eyes a-blazin’, an’ ’is head an’ breast a-shinin’ in the light. I heerd ’is shot, an’ in jest a few minutes Jim ’uz back in camp, a-rattlin’ the dishes, though he’d ben quite a piece off.” “Jim had knocked ’is shanks all up on stumps an’ logs,” interpolated Tom Chesser, who was listening with enjoyment to his father’s tale. “I sat right up then,” the old man continued, “an’ says: ‘Why, whut’s the matter, Jim?’” “Sam,” ’e says, “I come jest as near to gittin’ Tiger-catched as a man ever could. He ’uz shore a big un.” “I reckon it ’uz a Tiger all right.” At that my own curiosity got the better of me. “Why, didn’t he kill it?” “No, sir.” “Didn’t he go back the next morning to see if he’d hit it?” “No, sir. An’ ’e didn’t go fire-lightin’ no more, neither.”

WHEN MR. TERRAPIN WENT RIDING ON THE CLOUDS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 285–86. Date: 1898 Original Source: North Carolina National Origin: African American

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The South | When Mr. Terrapin Went Riding on the Clouds

In small traditional communities in which regular face-to-face interaction is the order of the day, gossipers, backbiters, and similar malcontents are likely to receive “rough justice” to preserve the social order. The best outcome of such scenarios is realized in this tale in which the grumbling Mr. Terrapin gets his wish, regrets it, and reforms.

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ave they done tell you ’bout ole Mr. Grumble Terrapin? Well, one day ole Brer Terrapin was mighty bad, and making up a poor mouth, and agrumbling and a-fussing, ’cause he have to creep on the ground. When he meet Brer Rabbit, he grumble ’cause he can’t run like Brer Rabbit, an’ when he meet Brer Buzzard he grumble ’cause he can’t fly in the clouds like Brer Buzzard, and so grumble, grumble, constant. Well, the folkses stand it till they nigh ’bout wore out, and so they ’gree amongst theyselves, the folkses did, and they ’gree how they goin’ take Brer Terrapin up in the clouds and drop him. So one day, when Brer Terrapin grumble to Miss Crow he can’t fly in the clouds, Miss Crow she say, she did, “Brer Terrapin, go get on my back, and I give you a ride in the clouds.” So Brer Terrapin, he mighty set up in he mind, and he get on Miss Crow’s back, and they sail off fine, and they sails this here way, and they sails that there way. Brer Terrapin, he look down on all he friends, and he feel that proudful he don’t take no noticement when they take off they hats to hisself. But presently Miss Crow she get tired, and so she say, old Miss Crow did, “This here just as high as I can go, Brer Terrapin, but here come Brer Buzzard; he can fly heap higher than what I can, Brer Buzzard can, and you just get on his back, and he sail you heap higher.” So Brer Terrapin, he get on Brer Buzzard back, and they sail up higher and higher, till Brer Terrapin can’t make out he friends when they take off they hats to hisself, and he say that the bestest day of his life, Brer Terrapin do, and they sails over the woods, and they sails over the waters. Then Brer Buzzard, he get broke down a-toting Brer Terrapin, and he ’low: “This here just as high as I can go, Brer Terrapin, but there come Miss Hawk; she can go a heap higher than what I can,” and Miss Hawk she say she be delighted to take Brer Terrapin to ride,that just what Miss Hawk done tell Brer Terrapin.

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So Brer Terrapin, he get on Miss Hawk’s back, and they go higher and higher, and Brer Terrapin he ’joy it fine, and he say to hisself, “I’se getting up in the clouds now, sure ’nough.” But directly here come King Eagle, and he say, “Oho, Brer Terrapin, you don’t call this here sailing. Oho, Sis Hawk, if you goin’ sail Brer Terrapin, why don’t you take him up where he can get a sight?” But Miss Hawk, she ’bliged to ’low that just as high as she can go. Then King Eagle say, “Well, just get on my back, and get a sure ’nough ride.” So Brer Terrapin, he get on King Eagle’s back, and they go up and up, till ole Brer Terrapin he get skeered, and he beg King Eagle to get down; but King Eagle, he just laugh and sail higher and higher, till old Brer Terrapin say to hisself he wish he never study ’bout flying in the clouds, and he say, Brer Terrapin did: “Oh please, King Eagle, take me down; I that skeered, I’se ’bout to drop,” and he fault hisself cause he was such a grumbling fool, and he say to hisself, if he ever get on he own foots once more, he never grumble ’cause he can’t fly in the clouds, but King Eagle, he just make like he goin’ up higher and higher, and poor old Brer Terrapin, he dat skeered, he can’t hold on much more, and he ’bout lose he hold. Just den he think how he got a spool of thread in he pocket, what Miss Terrapin done send him to fetch home from the store that day, and he tie the end to King Eagle’s leg, unbeknownst to him, Brer Terrapin did, and then he drop de spool, and he take hold of the thread, and hold it fast in he hands, and he slip down to the ground, and you never hear old Brer Terrapin grumble ’cause he can’t run or fly, ’cause the old man he done fly that here day to satisfy hisself, that he did, sure’s you’re born, he did fly that there day.

ARE YOU MAN? Tradition Bearer: “Pappy” Jackson Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 243. Date: 1925 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: African American

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The South | Are You Man?

The most obvious social message in this tale is the admonition to follow the advice of one’s elders. The narrative further warns that being assured of one’s own strength and status may lead to destruction. Rabbit, though a relatively minor character in this story, plays the pivotal role of the trickster who overcomes strength with wit—and a more powerful accomplice.

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n old lion lied over on his death bed. He told his son, “Son, meet everything on earth but man. You’ll be all right so long as you meet everything on earth but man.” So the son listened to the words of his father for a while. So the older he got the more ambitious he became. He runs up on Rabbit one day an’ said to him, “Are you man?” Rabbit was scared out o’ his wits an’ said, “I’m nothin’ but a poor cottontail; by God, dogs, cats, everything runs me.” So Lion ran off. He met a donkey. He run up on Donkey an’ knocked him down. He said to him, “Are you man?” Donkey said, “No, I’m not man. Children n’ everything comes along an’ knocks me about.” So Lion runs up on ’nother rabbit. He wanted know from him was he man. Rabbit said, “No, I ain’t nothin’ but a rabbit. But I can show you man; you want to see man?” Lion says, “Yes.” Rabbit says, “Well, ’bout an’ hour from now you will see him.” So Lion says, “All right.” So Rabbit ran off an’ met a man. He said, “There’s a bad animal out here to meet you. He’s the king of the world. He wants to see who is man, he is so great.” So the man was layin’ behind a big oak tree. He had a double barrel rifle. He said to Rabbit, “Now let’s see if he is around.” Rabbit said, “Yes, he’s just aroun’ the corner. Don’t fail to sting him.” So he went an’ called Lion. The man fired a shot at him an’ he fell. He got up an’ the man fired another shot; he fell again. He got up again an’ the man fired another shot. This time the lion fell an’ did not get up. He said, “Ah, Rabbit, you’re the one who led me to my slaughter. By God, you did me nothin’. I promised I pay you. It’s painin’ now. Ah, it’s a bad thing to be disobedient. If I had listened to my father I would still be living and happy.”

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THE GREASE GIRL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fortier, Alcee. “Louisianian Nursery-Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 140–42. Date: 1888 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: French American

“The Grease Girl” bears the traits of the European märchen or magic tale by virtue of its aristocratic personnel, romance between a prince and a commoner, and the device of the animal helper for the heroine. The plot resolution differs drastically from the märchen’s usual triumph and elevation of the protagonist. At the heart of this tale is a message best summed up by the collector when the Grease Girl is rejected by the prince: “Such is the inconstancy of man.”

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here was once a lady who had four daughters. They were so pretty that everybody wanted to marry them. They were called La Graisse [grease], Depomme [apple], Banane [banana], and Pacane [pecan]. La Graisse was the prettiest, but she never went out in the sun, because they were afraid that she would melt. La Graisse used to go out every day in a beautiful golden carriage. The son of the king saw her every day, but La Graisse was so pretty and the carriage shone so much that it dazzled his eyes, and he had to rub them in order to be able to see. The king’s son was in love with La Graisse. He ran to the mother to ask her to let him marry her; but the mother, who knew that La Graisse was the prettiest of her daughters, wanted to marry the others first. She called Depomme: “Depomme oh! Orimomo, orimomo!” Depomme came, but the gentleman looked at her well, and said that it was not the one he wanted; she would spoil too quickly. The mother called: “Banane oh! Orimomo, orimomo!” Banane came. The gentleman did not want her; she would rot too quickly. The mother called: “Pacane oh! Orimomo, orimomo!” Pacane came. The gentleman said Pacane would become rancid. At last the mother called: “La

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The South | All Dressed Up and No Place to Go

Graisse oh! Orimomo, orimomo!” La Graisse came. As soon as he saw her he took her, and led her to his beautiful house and married her. The king’s son went hunting every day. While he was not there, the servants tormented La Graisse. She was afraid to tell her husband, and she did all they wanted. One day the cook told her that she did not want to cook the dinner; that La Graisse had to do it herself. Poor La Graisse! She cried and cried, but they forced her to stay by the fire. But she was melting and melting. In the end, there was nothing but La Graisse [grease] everywhere; the kitchen was full of it. The little bird of La Graisse saw that. It dipped its wings into the grease; it flew in the wood to the gentleman; it flapped its wings in his face. The gentleman saw the grease which was on the wings; he thought of his dear La Graisse; he galloped home; he found his wife all melted on the floor. He was so sorry that he picked up all the grease and put it in an old bath-tub, and when the grease was cold it became a woman again. But she was never as pretty as before; for the earth had mixed with the grease, and she was all yellow and dirty. Her husband did not love her any more, and sent her back to her mother.

ALL DRESSED UP AND NO PLACE TO GO Tradition Bearer: Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 268. Date: 1925 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

This ethnic joke represents the “Pat and Mike” cycle that proved popular among not only African Americans but various other American groups in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Despite the ironic fate of the arrogant Mike of this narrative, he does not fulfill the numskull stereotype of similar Irish jokes. For example, compare this tale to “The Irishman and the Pumpkin” (p. 73) and “The Sea Tick and the Irishman” (p. 74).

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at and Mike were arguin’ one afternoon on the sidewalk. Mike said to Pat, “What’s all this talk about heaven an’ hell? I don’t believe there is no heaven. I don’t believe there is no hell. I don’t believe any of that stuff. Why should a person worry about that?” Pat went home that afternoon an’ overloaded his stomach. Pretty soon he died of indigestion. Mike came over the next day to see his friend lyin’ in the coffin. All the people were sittin’ there. Mike began to laugh. People wondered at the wake, an’ pretty soon somebody asked him, “What’s the trouble?” Mike said, “Oh, nothin’, only yesterday I an’ my friend Pat was talkin’ on the corner of heaven an’ hell, an’ he told me that there was neither heaven nor neither hell, an’ there was no need to make preparations for either place, an’ the part that tickled me was to see Pat lyin’ out all dressed up an’ no place to go.”

THE TALKING EGGS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fortier, Alcee. “Louisianian Nursery-Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 142–45. Date: 1888 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: French American

The following Creole folktale, a variant of “The Kind and the Unkind Girls” (AT480), develops the typical märchen plot in which the protagonist Blanche is in miserable circumstances at the mercy of her mother and her self-indulgent sister Rose. After meeting a supernatural helper disguised as a beggar who follows her to her home through a gamut of extraordinary events and creatures, Blanche is rewarded for being kind and trusting. The punishment meted out to Rose when she tries to follow Blanche’s path without mending her foul disposition gives this tale

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The South | The Talking Eggs

the moral impact commonly associated with the märchen. Folklorist Alcee Fortier contends that the tale is based on a French model.

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here was once a lady who had two daughters; they were called Rose and Blanche. Rose was bad, and Blanche was good; but the mother liked Rose better, although she was bad, because she was her very picture. She would compel Blanche to do all the work, while Rose was seated in her rocking-chair. One day she sent Blanche to the well to get some water in a bucket. When Blanche arrived at the well, she saw an old woman, who said to her: “Pray, my little one, give me some water; I am very thirsty.” “Yes, aunt,” said Blanche, “here is some water”; and Blanche rinsed her bucket, and gave her good fresh water to drink. “Thank you, my child, you are a good girl; God will bless you.” A few days after, the mother was so bad to Blanche that she ran away into the woods. She cried, and knew not where to go, because she was afraid to return home. She saw the same old woman, who was walking in front of her. “Ah! My child, why are you crying? What hurts you?” “Ah, aunt, mamma has beaten me, and I am afraid to return to the cabin.” “Well, my child, come with me; I will give you supper and a bed; but you must promise me not to laugh at anything which you will see.” She took Blanche’s hand, and they began to walk in the wood. As they advanced, the bushes of thorns opened before them, and closed behind their backs. A little farther on, Blanche saw two axes, which were fighting; she found that very strange, but she said nothing. They walked farther, and behold! it was two arms which were fighting; a little farther, two legs; at last, she saw two heads which were fighting, and which said: “Blanche, good-morning, my child; God will help you.” At last they arrived at the cabin of the old woman, who said to Blanche: “Make some fire, my child, to cook the supper”; and she sat down near the fireplace, and took off her head. She placed it on her knees, and began to louse herself. Blanche found that very strange; she was afraid, but she said nothing. The old woman put back her head in its place, and gave Blanche a large bone to put on the fire for their supper. Blanche put the bone in the pot. Lo! in a moment the pot was full of good meat. She gave Blanche a grain of rice to pound with the pestle, and thereupon the mortar became full of rice. After they had taken their supper, the old woman said to Blanche: “Pray, my child, scratch my back.” Blanche scratched her back,

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but her hand was all cut, because the old woman’s back was covered with broken glass. When she saw that Blanche’s hand was bleeding, she only blew on it, and the hand was cured. When Blanche got up the next morning, the old woman said to her: “You must go home now, but as you are a good girl I want to make you a present of the talking eggs. Go to the chicken-house; all the eggs which say ‘Take me,’ you must take them; all those which will say ‘Do not take me,’ you must not take. When you will be on the road, throw the eggs behind your back to break them.” As Blanche walked, she broke the eggs. Many pretty things came out of those eggs. It was now diamonds, now gold, a beautiful carriage, beautiful dresses. When she arrived at her mother’s, she had so many fine things that the house was full of them. Therefore her mother was very glad to see her. The next day, she said to Rose: “You must go to the woods to look for this same old woman; you must have fine dresses like Blanche.” Rose went to the woods, and she met the old woman, who told her to come to her cabin; but when she saw the axes, the arms, the legs, the heads, fighting, and the old woman taking off her head to louse herself, she began to laugh and to ridicule everything she saw. Therefore the old woman said: “Ah! My child, you are not a good girl; God will punish you.” The next day she said to Rose: “I don’t want to send you back with nothing: go to the chicken-house, and take the eggs which say ‘Do not take me.’” Rose went to the chicken-house. All the eggs began to say: “Take me,” “Don’t take me”; “Take me,” “Don’t take me.” Rose was so bad that she said: “Ah, yes, you say ‘Don’t take me,’ but you are precisely those I want.” She took all the eggs which said “Don’t take me,” and she went away with them. As she walked, she broke the eggs, and there came out a quantity of snakes, toads, frogs, which began to run after her. There were even a quantity of whips, which whipped her. Rose ran and shrieked. She arrived at her mother’s so tired that she was not able to speak. When her mother saw all the beasts and the whips which were chasing her, she was so angry that she sent her away like a dog, and told her to go to live in the woods.

YOUR HORSE STAYS OUTSIDE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 274–75.

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The South | Your Horse Stays Outside

Date: 1925 Original Source: Mississippi National Origin: African American

This protest tale comments on the social conditions that began under the plantation system and continued into the post-Civil War Jim Crow era by projecting racism into the afterlife. As the plot of the tale runs, even the staunch abolitionist Horace Greeley (1811–1872), who had been the founding editor of the New York Tribune, a Congressman, and a U.S. Presidential candidate, could not desegregate Heaven. Choosing to disguise Brother Abraham Jasper as Greeley’s horse offers additional commentary on the status of African Americans as perceived by the narrator.

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l’ Brother Abraham Jasper he died. Well, he went to heaven as they say. When he got there they wouldn’t admit him. Old Salt [Saint] Peter wouldn’t let him in. Ol’ Abraham said, “Well, things ain’t here like I thought they was. I’m goin’ back.” So he met Ol’ Brother Horace Greeley goin’ to the same place he comin’ from. Greeley said to him, “Well, hello Brother Jasper, where you been?” Brother Jasper said, “I just been to heaven.” “Well, what you comin’ back for?” Brother Jasper said, “Well, ol’ Brother Salt Peter wouldn’t let me in.” Brother Horace Greeley said, “Well now, that’s too bad. Now I’m gonna work a plan to git you in. Well now, you just let me get on your back an’ when I get there I’ll let on you’re my horse an’ we’ll both get inside the gates.” So Brother Horace Greeley rode on Brother Jasper’s back. When they got to the gates of [Heaven] Salt Peter said, “Whoa there, who’s there?” “Brother Horace Greeley.” Ol’ Salt Peter said, “Is you ridin’ or walkin’?” Brother Horace Greeley said, “Ridin’ on a horse.” Ol’ Salt Peter said, “Hitch your horse outside an’ come on in.”

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THE CARIBBEAN

ORIGINS

ADAM AND EVE Tradition Bearer: Richard Barrett Source: Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 300–301. Date: 1929–1930 Original Source: Nassau, Bahamas National Origin: African American

The following myth offers an alternative look at the concept of original sin through an episode of adultery between Eve and the Devil and the subsequent marriage of Cain to a gorilla.

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he reason the world is so wicked is because the first child born in the world was a bastard. Cain was a bastard child. He was the son of the Devil. One day Adam was working out in the field and the Devil turned himself into a good-looking man and come to see Eve. He had been wanting to get up to her for a long time. So he showed Eve this deep point about everything and got Eve all excited about this apple tree.


So they went out under the apple tree and Eve parted with what she didn’t know she had. She bit Satan on the neck and shoulder. They was under the tree and that’s why people make love under trees today. So he knowed there was going to be some hereafter to the thing, so he put her up to get Adam into it, too. So soon as Adam come home Eve started in on him and kept on till he got mixed up in it. Next day Eve had on a pretty calico dress and Adam was dressed, too, when God come and drove them off. Adam blamed Eve because he knowed something was wrong—but he didn’t know what. Way after, Adam and Eve often quarreled about how she come to know what she knowed. Adam would ask her: “Did Satan do with you as I do?” She would say: “Naw, honey, didn’t I tell you he just told me about it, and I told you just as he told me.” “But, Eve, I can’t understand why you didn’t call me to talk with him and let him tell me instead of you lying about with him all the afternoon like you did.” That is the way they used to fuss about Satan. So when Cain was born Adam saw he looked just like Satan and not a bit like him, and they fussed some more; but Eve stuck to her point and Adam had to shut up. When Abel was born he compared the children, and there wasn’t no comparison between them. So that is why Cain hated Abel, because they was not whole brothers. And that is why God wouldn’t accept Cain’s sacrifice—because he was the Devil’s son. And that is why he accepted Abel’s sacrifice—because he was Adam’s son. So when Cain killed Abel he fled away and married a gorilla. So all of the people in the world come from Cain and that gorilla. That is how the animal got into us. That’s how come those old patriarchs used to live so long. They was close to the gorilla and strong. That’s why old Methusaleh lived nine hundred sixty-nine years—he was just full of that old gorilla blood. As time goes on that old animal blood works out and leaves the human blood. That is why they say we are growing weaker and wiser.

BROTHER RABBIT AN’ BROTHER TAR-BABY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 50–51.

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The Caribbean | Brother Rabbit an’ Brother Tar-Baby

Date: 1891 Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

This tale enjoys a general popularity due to a widely read version, “The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story,” by Joel Chandler Harris; the twentiethcentury Walt Disney print and film versions; and a wide oral distribution as well (see in this collection “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby,” “The Tar Baby,” and “The Rabbit and the Frenchman”). The tale of “The Tarbaby and the Rabbit” (AT175), usually coupled with the “Briar-patch Punishment for Rabbit” (AT1310), enjoys worldwide distribution, with versions found in South and East Asia, Africa, and Europe, as well as the western hemisphere. The formulaic opening marker, “Once it was a time a very good time/De monkey chewed tobacco an’ ’e spit white lime,” is equivalent to the familiar “Once upon a time” of the märchen. As is common in African American tradition, Rabbit is a trickster figure living by his wits, outsmarting stronger beings, and overcoming superior numbers to achieve his ends. Given the position in which the African bondsperson was placed in the New World context, Rabbit’s antics may serve not only as comic catharsis but also as models for emulation under social oppression. In this version, Rabbit plays out both his strengths (cleverness and audacity) and weaknesses (selfishness and impulsiveness) in his effort to obtain the necessities of life at the expense of others’ labor. Nevertheless, Rabbit plays a common role of tricksters in transforming the world, taking vengeance on the other animals by forcing them from their initial anthropomorphic lifestyle and condemning them to run wild in the bush.

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nce it was a time, a very good time, De monkey chewed tobacco an’ ’e spit white lime.

So dis day Brother Rabbit, Brother Bouki (hyena), Brother Tiger, Brother Lizard, Brother Elephant, Brother Goat, Brother Sheep, Brother Rat, Brother Cricket; all o’ de creatures, all kind, so now dey say, “Brother Rabbit, you goin’ help dig well?” Brother Rabbit say, “No!”

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Dey say, “When you wan’ water, how you goin’ manage?” ’E say, “Get it an’ drink it.” Dey say, “Brother Rabbit, you goin’ help cut field?” Brother Rabbit say, “No!” Dey say, “When you’re hungry, ho’ you goin’ manage?” “Get it an’ eat it.” So all of ’em gone to work. Dey went; dey dig well first. Nex’ dey cut field. Now dis day Brother Rabbit come. Dey leave Brother Lizard home to mind de well. So now Brother Rabbit say, “Brother Lizard, you wan’ to see who can make de mostest noise in de trash?” Brother Lizard say, “Yes!” Brother Rabbit say, “You go in dat big heap o’ trash dere an’ I go in dat over dere” (Brother Rabbit did wan’ to get his water now). Brother Lizard gone in de trash; ’e kick up. While ’e was makin’ noise in de trash, Brother Rabbit dip ’e bucket full o’ water. He’s gone! So no’ when Brother Elephant come, an’ all de other animals come out of de field, Brother Elephant say, “Brother Lizard, did you let Brother Rabbit come here today an’ take dat water?” Brother Lizard say, “I couldn’t help it!” ’e say, “’E tell me to go in de trash to see who could make the mostest noise.” Now de nex’ day dey leave Brother Bouki home to mind de well. Now Brother Rabbit come. ’E say, “Brother Bouki, you wan’ to see who can run de fastes’?” Brother Bouki say, “Yes.” ’E say, “You go dat side, an’ le’ me go dis side.” Good! Brother Bouki break off; ’e gone a runnin’. Soon as Brother Bouki git out o’ sight Brother Rabbit dip ’e bucket; ’e gone. So no’ when Brother Elephant and the rest of ’em come dey say, “Brother Bouki, you let Brother Rabbit come ’ere again today and take our water?” ’E say, “’E tell me to have a race to see who could run de fastes’, an’ soon’s I git a little ways ’e take de water an’ gone.” So Brother Elephant say, “I know how to ketch him!” All of ’em went to de pine yard. Dey make one big tar-baby. Dey stick ’im up to de well. Brother Rabbit come. ’E say, “Hun! Dey leave my dear home to min’ de well today.” Brother Rabbit say, “Come, my dear, le’ me kiss you!” Soon as ’e kiss ’er his lip stick fas’. Brother Rabbit say, “Mind you better le’ go”; ’e say, “You see dis biggy, biggy hand here”; ’e say, “If I slap you wid dat I kill you.” No’ when Brother Rabbit fire, so, ’e han’ stick. Brother Rabbit say, “Min’ you better le’ go

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The Caribbean | Nancy and the Honey Tree

me”; ’e say, “You see dis biggy, biggy han’ here; if I slap you wid dat I kill you.” Soon as Brother Rabbit slap wid de other han’, so, ’e stick. Brother Rabbit say, “You see dis biggy, biggy foot here? My pa’,” say, “’f I kick anybody wid my biggy, biggy foot I kill ’em.” Soon as ’e fire his foot, so, it stick. Brother Rabbit say, “Min’ you better le’ go me.” Good! soon as ’e fire his foot, so, it stick. Now Brother Rabbit jus’ was hangin’; hangin’ on de tar-baby. Brother Bouki come runnin’ out firs’. ’E say, “Ha! We got ’im today! We got ’im today!” ’e gone back to de field; ’e tell Brother Elephant; ’e say, “Ha! Brother Elephant; we got ’im today!” Then all of ’em gone out now dey ketch Brother Rabbit. Now dey did wan’ to kill Brother Rabbit; dey didn’t know where to t’row ’im. Brother Rabbit say, “’f you t’row me in de sea” (you know ’f dey had t’row Brother Rabbit in de sea, dey’d a kill ’im), Brother Rabbit say, “’f you t’row me in de sea you won’t hurt me a bit.” Brother Rabbit say, “’f you t’row me in de fine grass, you kill me an’ all my family.” Dey take Brother Rabbit. Dey t’row ’im in de fine grass. Brother Rabbit jump up; ’e put off a runnin’. So now Brother Rabbit say, “Hey! Ketch me ’f you could.” All of ’em went away now. Now one day dey [the other animals] was all sittin’ down eatin’. Dey had one big house; de house was full o’ all kinds o’ animals. Brother Rabbit gone; ’e git up on top de house; ’e make one big hole in de roof o’ de house. Brother Rabbit sing out, “Now, John Fire, go out!” Brother Rabbit let go a barrel o’ mud; let it run right down inside de house. When ’e let go de barrel o’ mud, so, everyone of ’em take to de bush, right wild; gone right over in de bush. Brother Rabbit make all of ’em went wild; till dis day you see all de animals wild. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

NANCY AND THE HONEY TREE Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 51–52.

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Date: 1921 Original Source: Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

This tale of the trickster Anansi (Nancy in this version) is a popular one in the West Indies. The narrative portrays Anansi as both trickster and dupe when he matches wits with Monkey. Supernatural elements include the speaking tree, the transformation of Nancy, and the power of the word “Wheelum,” which causes the tree to wheel around and throw its victims. In a Jamaican variant collected by Martha Warren Beckwith in 1924, the word is “Fling-a-mile” rather than “Wheelum.”

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hile Nancy was goin’ on dis day, he see dis tree. Come up to dis tree, an’ say, “Ah! Dis a pretty little tree. Dis honey tree is a pretty little tree.”

De tree say dat he mus’ call ’em “Wheelum.” Nancy laugh, an’ say dat it was a honey tree. Dat he not need to call it “wheelum.” Den Nancy get up in dat tree, an’ start to suck de honey. He suck till he get all de honey what he want. Den he got stuck when he go to pull off from de tree. He twist, but he can’t loose himself. Nancy start to beg. Say, “Please, Mr. Honey-Tree, don’ catch me! Leave me go, please, Mr. Honey-Tree!” Honey-Tree say, “My name not Honey-Tree. My name Wheelum.” Nancy say, “Alright, Mr. Wheelum! Dat all right! Please let me go, Mr. Wheelum!” When Nancy say “Wheelum,” de tree start to spin. Dat tree wheel an’ wheel. When it have him goin’ round so, yap it loose him. Nancy was put at a distance by dis tree. He land, an’ pick hisself well hurted by dis tree call “Wheelum.” Now Nancy come, an’ all prepare to fool some a dese other animals wid dis tree. Soon he see Bro’ Cow comin’. Bro’ Cow he a stupid one, an’ Nancy pick him quick. Say, “O Bro’ Cow! Ah done find one very sweet tree.” Bro’ Cow say, “Where dis tree? Show me it!” An’ Nancy carry him to where dis tree was. When he got him dere, he tell him dat he mus’ suck, an’ he will get all de honey dat he can eat. Bro’ Cow did suck. When he finish, he not able to loose hisself. He cry, an’ tell Bro’ Nancy to help get him off. Nancy laughin’ for fair now. Cow beg de tree to let he go. De tree say it name Wheelum. Den when Cow say “Wheelum,” de tree t’row him

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The Caribbean | Brother Elephant and Brother Whale

also at a distance. An’ he was hurted too. Bro’ Nancy have all dis sport. He fool some dese other animals wid dis same honey tree. By an’ by he see Bro’ Monkey. Now, Bro’ Monkey was in dis tree, an’ see all dat Nancy do. He come down, an’ pass to where Nancy was. Nancy greet him. Say, “Well, Bro’ Monkey, jus’ de man I like to see. Jus’ de man. Bro’, dere is a honey tree dat has so sweet t’ing; an’ I going to carry you dere, bro’.” De monkey was willin’, an’ Nancy took him. Dey come to dis tree. Nancy tell Monkey dat he must suck. Monkey answer dat he will not suck till Nancy firs’ suck. Nancy say, “What matter, bro’? Dat is sweet dere. You go. I have finish my suck. What matter you? Not want dat sweet t’ing dere! Come on, Bro’ Monkey! Suck from dis tree!” But Monkey refuse to suck till Nancy go firs’ to suck. No matter what Nancy say, he still will not suck firs’. After dis, Nancy go to de tree, an’ whisper, “Ah goin’ suck firs’, Bro’ HoneyTree, but don’ hol’ me! Hear, Bro’ Honey-Tree, don’ hol’ me!” De honey tree answer dat it will not hol’ him. Den Nancy say, “Alright, Bro’ Monkey! I going suck firs’. We going get full of dis honey.” Nancy went, an’ he suck. But Monkey did not suck. De tree hol’ him; an’ no matter what he say, de tree not loose him. Monkey had in dis time gone to a distance. Here he put up a tall spike. Dese spike were jus’ where de tree was t’rowin’. Monkey tell Nancy dat he going tell de tree wheelum. Nancy say, “No!” Monkey he in all kind of glee an’ jump ’round. Nancy he keep beggin’ dat tree please let he go. Dis de tree would not do. Nancy say, “Please don’ hol’ me, Bro’ Honey-Tree! Please let me go, Bro’ Honey-Tree!” Tree say, “My name not Honey-Tree. My name Wheelum.” Den Bro’ Monkey shout, “Wheelum, wheelum, wheelum!” An’ de tree turn an’ commence to spin about. De tree wheel an’ wheel. Yap de tree let Nancy go, an’ he land upon dis spike. Nancy he turn to spider, an’ run in de cassy tree. I went through Miss Havercomb alley, An’ I see a lead was bendin’; So da lead ben’, So da story en’.

BROTHER ELEPHANT AND BROTHER WHALE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. Page 65 in Bahama Songs and Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 3. New York: American Folklore Society, 1895.

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“Brother Elephant and Brother Whale,” a variant of “Deceptive Tug-ofwar” (AT291), is distributed in the West Indies, the American South, and African South America. Brother Rabbit (B’Rabby) indulges in his pastime of stirring up trouble by issuing false challenges that pit unwitting competitors against each other. Along the way, there is another object lesson concerning the power of brain over brawn.

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Now dis day Brother Rabbit was walkin’ ’long de shore. ’E see Brother Whale. ’E say, “Brother Whale!” Brother Whale say, “Hey!” Brother Rabbit, “Brother Whale, I bet I could pull you on de shore!” Brother Whale, “You can’t!” Brother Rabbit say, “I bet you t’ree t’ousan’ dollar!” Whale say, “All right!” ’E gone. ’E meet Brother Elephant. ’E say, “Brother Elephant,” ’e say, “I bet I could pull you in de sea!” Brother Elephant say, “Me!” ’E say, “Dey ain’t any man in de worl’ can pull me in de sea!” Brother Rabbit, “I’ll try it to-morrow at twelve o’clock.” ’E gone an’ get a heap o’ rope. ’E say, “Now today we’ll try.” ’E tie one end of the rope aroun’ Brother Whale’s neck, and den ’e tie one end aroun’ Brother Elephant’s neck. ’E say, “When you hear me say, set taut, you mus’ set taut.” ’E say, “Pull away!” When Brother Whale pull, ’e pull Brother Elephant in de surf o’ de sea. ’E say, “You think dis little Brother Rabbit doin’ all o’ dat!”

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The Caribbean | Why Rabbit Has a Short Tail

When Brother Elephant pull it, ’e pull Brother Whale in de surf o’ de sea. Brother Whale catch underneath one shelf o’ de rock, and Brother Elephant catch to one big tree. Den de two of ’em pull so heavy de rope broke. Brother Whale went in de ocean and Brother Elephant went way over in de pine-yard. Das why you see Brother Whale in de ocean today and das why you see Brother Elephant over in de pine bushes today. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

WHY RABBIT HAS A SHORT TAIL Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 49–50. Date: 1921 Original Source: George W. Edwards, Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

In this tale of the master trickster tricked, Rabbit seems a particularly easy dupe. The narrative resembles “The Tail-fisher” (AT2). In the classic model, however, Bear or Wolf is tricked into using his tail to fish through a hole in the ice. The ice freezes around the tail, and when the tail-fisher is compelled to escape, the originally long tail is bobbed. Caribbean environmental factors obviously require a modification of this plot.

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is was how dis come, Rabbit once have a tail long like dem other an’mals. Not short all de time.

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On dis occasion Rabbit was goin’ about, an’ he was hot. Dis was summer, an’ everyt’ing was hot. Rabbit he had run all over, was feelin’ warm. By a’ by he come to where Bro’ Barracuda was. When Bro’ Rabbit come near to de water, Bro’ Barracuda speak to him. Say, “Why is it dat you so warm, Bro’ Rabbit?” Rabbit tell him dat is so warm ’round here, an’ dat he been runnin’ all ’bout. He not able to stay cool. Den Bro’ Barracuda fool Rabbit. An’ Rabbit is a smart one. Bro’ Barracuda say, “Bro’ Rabbit, I will tell you which way you can get cool.” Rabbit he glad for dat, an’ ask de Barracuda to please do dis. Bro’ Barracuda say dat Rabbit must come up to dis piece of wood what is over de water, an’ let he tail hang down into de water. “In dis way, Bro’ Rabbit, de cool from de water will go up from you’ tail, an’ you will not be warm.” Rabbit not against dis, an’ he come. Now, when Rabbit come up to dis piece a wood, he drop his tail to de water. Den Bro’ Barracuda sneak up to Rabbit tail, an’ he bit it off. Dat how Barracuda fool Rabbit, an’ is why Rabbit has dat short tail. Finish.

PLAYING MOURNER Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 61–62. Date: 1921 Original Source: George W. Edwards, Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

The theft of food by a trickster is a common folktale motif. This tale of rat’s betrayal of his friend cat closely resembles “Theft of Butter (Honey) by Playing Godfather” (AT15). Variants of AT15 are found elsewhere in this collection (see “Playing Godfather,” p. 64). The following narrative departs from AT15, however, in its omission of the concluding motif of pinning the food theft on the victim (see “How Brer Fox Dream He Eat Brer ’Possum” p. 83). “Playing Mourner” concludes

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The Caribbean | Playing Mourner

instead with justice for the offender, which serves to explain the origin of the enmity between cats and rats.

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ussy and Rat was great friends. Dey was all de time in each other company. On dis occasion Pussy learn dat his father is dead. Rat cry an’ tell him dat he sorry. Pussy is sick at dis. Dese two prepare to go to de wake. Pussy not feelin’ well. Rat pretend dat he is sick too. Dey both had a big barrel of rice. Before dey go to de wake, dey is goin’ to cook dis rice. Dey cook it. When de wake is over, dey will come for de rice. Both put a big cover over dis rice. De rice was finish. Also dey was to take somet’ing for dis wake. Dey had a tambourine, a triangle, an’ a fiddle-bow. Dey prepare dese to take. At de wake dey will have dese. Pussy say, “Come, Bro’ Rat! Me father dead. We goin’ to de wake now.” “Dat is all right,” Rat tell him. An’ dey went. When dey gone some ways, Rat say, “Ah, Bro’ Pussy! me forget de tambourine. Goin’ back to get it.” Pussy tell him he mus’ hurry. He father dead, an’ de wake done commence. Rat went back. He hop in de kettle an’ eat some of de rice. Now he come again. Dey went on. Pussy cryin’ ’cause he father dead. Rat he cry too. Dey have de tambourine. Rat stop here. Say, “Ah, Bro’ Pussy! we done forget de triangle. Can’t go widout de triangle.” “Bro’ Rat, how go off widout de triangle? We need dem t’ings for to have at de wake.” Rat tol’ him dat is “you’ father,” an’ he will go back for de triangle. Bro’ Pussy consent, an’ Rat went back to their house. When he get back again, he jump in de kettle wid de rice. Eat full. Now he come, an’ dey go on. Pussy cryin’ an’ Rat bawlin’. Pussy say, “Step up dere, Bro’ Rat! We is behin’ for de wake now. My father mus’ need for me to get to de wake.” Dey almos’ dere. Rat stop. Say, “What happen to de fiddle-bow? You has de fiddle-bow?” Pussy has not it. He excite dat dey no have de fiddle-bow. Rat tell him dat is all right, an’ dat he goin’ get it. “You’ father dead, and me goin’ bring back dat fiddle-bow. You is wait here. Jus’ wait at dis point for me. I goin’ back.” An’ Pussy let Rat go back. Rat get back, an’ he clean de pot. Not any rice in it. In dis time Pussy start to t’ink dat Rat fool him. An’ he come back. When he is dere, he not see nothin’. Look around, Bro’ Rat not in sight. He move all round, can’t find he friend. By an’ by he hear sound: “Chip, chip, chip, chip, chip, chip, chip, chip!”

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Dis sound is at de kettle. Soft, Pussy move to it. He creep up to it. Hear, “Chip, chip, chip, chip, chip!” Now he know where was Bro’ Rat. De cover is on de pot. Bro’ Pussy get to de cover. Jump on it. Cry, “Well, Bro’ Rat, I’s got you at it. So you is in dere. I goin’ kill you, Bro’ Rat.” Rat beg him not to kill ’im. Say, “Please don’ kill me, Bro’ Pussy! Do anyt’ing to me, but please don’ kill me!” Bro’ Pussy insist dat he was goin’ kill him. Rat beg dat he don’t. Say he must not kill ’em. Den Pussy agree not to kill him, an’ open de top. Rat hop out. Pussy jump on him. Den John Cowrie (cat) lift him. He toss him. He let him go, den catch him. He beat him. He t’row him. He pounce on him. Beat him, but he did not kill him. He do dis till Rat was dead. But he did not kill him. He played him till he dead. Dat is why cat play wid de rat dat dey caught.

COCK’S BREAKFAST Tradition Bearer: Richard Morgan Source: Beckwith, Martha Warren. Page 61 in Jamaica Anansi Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 17. New York: American Folklore Society, 1924. Date: 1924 Original Source: Santa Cruz Mountains, Jamaica National Origin: African American

The tale of “Cock’s Breakfast” casts Cockroach in the role of the trickster. In fact, Martha Warren Beckwith suggests in Jamaica Anansi Stories (1924) a comparison between Cockroach and the more famous African and African American trickster Anansi (260). Cockroach is featured in similar tales in Caribbean tradition. The present narrative is built on motif A2494.5.18, “Enmity of Fowl and Cockroach.”

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ne day Cockroach said to Cock, “Brother Cock, get little breakfas’, so I will come an’ have breakfas’ wid you.” Cock said yes. Cockroach come, Cockroach eat. When he done ’e said, “Brother Cock, when you know time my breakfas’ ready, come.”

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The Caribbean | The Origin of Woman

Cock said, “How mus’ I know?” Cockroach said, “I will gi’ you a sign. When you hear I make noise, don’ come; but when you hear I stay still in de yard you mus’ come.” When Cock go, he didn’t fin’ Cockroach. Cock return back to his yard. Secon’ day, Cockroach come an’ say, “Oh, Brother Cock! after I lef’ you here, I got pain all over my skin so I go an’ lie down, I couldn’t look a t’ing; but t’-day you can come.” Cock do de same, go to de yard, didn’t fin’ him, return back. When he got halfway, he hear in Cockroach house, “Ring a ting ting, Me know fool for fool!” Cock take time, tip on him toe. An’ go long to one gourd, he hear cockroach in de gourd. An’ Cock take him beak, lick him out de gourd. Cockroach run out. Cock pick him up an’ swaller him. So from dat day, not a cockroach walk a fowl yard anymore.

THE ORIGIN OF WOMAN Tradition Bearer: Harry Murray Source: Bates, William C. “Creole Folk-Lore from Jamaica II: Nancy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 124–25. Date: 1896 Original Source: Jamaica National Origin: African American

The following “origin” tale, embedded within an argument between a husband and wife, does not serve as an explanation like the myth that it parodies; rather, it is an example of a comic anecdote turning on an alleged gender difference based on a flawed act of creation. See the appendix to this volume for the unedited version of this narrative.

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discussion arose between black Lizzie and her husband upon the origin of man. Harry laid it down for an axiom that he was made from the dust of the earth, because the minister said so. “I make out o’ dust fe’ sartin.” To him, according to the story, Lizzie replied: “Me no make out o’ none dirt.” Then Harry: “Ef you don’ make out o’ dirt, wha’ you make out o’? You make out o’ dirt, yes!” “I don’t make out o’ notin’ o’ de skin.” “Den wha’ you make out o’? You mus’ make out o’ some golden thing or another, den?” “I don’ make out o’ no golden thing, an’ I don’ make out o’ none dirt. I make out o’ bone.” “Make out o’ wha’?” “Bone!” “Bone?” “Yes, bone to be sho’.” “Wha’ kin’ o’ bone?” “Rib’s bone! You na hea’ minista’ say so?” “Well, I don’ know what to say ’bout dat; I don’ like to say dat wha’ minista’ say not de truth; but I mean fe’ say, when minista’ read ’bout dat rib’s bone, him must mean white woman, because dem white, so de bone white. Ef you make de same, you’ skin would a been white.” “Cho,” said Lizzie, “ef you had opened your ears instead of sleeping, you would a hea’ de minsta’ say de skin notin’, but de blood, da de thing, because in de book say, dat white-o, brown-o, black-o, all make de same blood; you eba’ see white blood an’ black blood?” “Look you,” said Harry, “It you know how me Uncle Jame use to say woman came in dis worl’?” “Cho, no bother me.” “Never min’, I going tell you. Dem make two men; de first one he made very well, but when dem make de other one, it’s kinda spoil. Den as dem look upon it, so it began to jump about, and shake him head, and do all kind o’ stupid thing, like a how woman goes on. Den one o’ dem hold him, say, ‘Wha’ kind o’ thing you?’ Den de oder say: ‘Cho, him no use, him can’ talk.’ Every day him was like a dummy, till one day dem hol’ him so, examine him tongue, den dem see de tongue tie; dem take a razor, cut it. As dem cut it so, bam! De thing mouth begin to fly, dem couldn’t stop it. Dem say: ‘Well, dem sorry dey ever cut de tongue.’ From dat time, it make you hear dem say: ‘ef you wan’ woman to be good, give her ’tump o’ tongue (stump of tongue, a tongue-tie).’”

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THE BRAVE TAILOR Variant A Tradition Bearer: Samuel Carrington Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 272–74. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

In the first Caribbean variant of “The Brave Tailor” (AT1640), Mr. Tailor accomplishes the task of taming a bear—a challenge issued by the queen for those wishing to win her daughter’s hand—by the use of his wits rather than by luck (as is the case in some European variants). When the mother and daughter later turn on him, his wits and boldness continue to save him, until he gives in to greed. In the much


shorter Variant B, words are the only weapons the tailor needs to remain in control.

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ncet it was a tailor. He was sittin’ down eatin’ some rotten cheese. The fly begin to humbug him. So wid dat he fired a slap and he killed seven. He says, “Ah, I am a tailor by name and a tailor by trade. I fired a nice slap and I killed seven, and if I had a fired a little harder, I’d a killed seventy-seven.” Write it on his belt and walk about wid the belt. Wid dat the queen saw him and widdat large number he killed. She had a bear to tame. She tol’ him if he was to tame dat bear dat she would give him her daughter. Wid dat she tol’ him she would give him fifty horse guard to go widhim when he go to tame this bear. He said he don’t wish de horse guard, he’ll go his own self. Got him some walnuts and he fill his pocket and he got him some rock stones and he fill his pocket, too. Soon de bear see him, he got his fiddle and de bear begin to dance. Diddle diddle, diddle diddle He diddle do, he dance, he dance. After he dance de bear begin to get hungry, which Mr. Tailor was hungry too, so he out wid few of dese walnuts and begin to eat. He fling a few to de bear and he begin to eat too. Fling some mix up with the rock stones. Broke out ev’y one his teeth, dese rock stones did. So as he got dose out he begin to play again. High diddle, high dooddle High diddle do. He begin to dance. He got close him, he out with his scissors and cut off his smellers. After he cut his smellers off, he took his scissors and he clip his nails, all his nails, his paws. Got on the back of him and he ride him all over the pen. Came down and told dem he tamed de bear. Went wid de many horse guard to the queen, he went to the pen and got on him and ride him. Ev’y person den could ride him. Well, they came back. Got married to de daughter. After dat, one day ridin’ out de horse flung him down. Tol’ his wife dat she’d have his pants to mend. She cried, didn’ knowin’ dat she would have to do dat. Now dey want him destroy’, the mother did.

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The Caribbean | The Brave Tailor

The queen tol’ him dat she had three giants to behead and dis Mr. Tailor was to tek ’em, otherwise Mr. Tailor was to be behead. She tol’ him she would send horse guard with him. He says he didn’ need dem. He was out in de forest in a great large place by himself den. Mr. Tailor went on and whils’ he gone on, he got plenty of stones and pebbles and put in his pocket. He reached dere at night and he seen de light, and dere was a large tree in front of de buildin’, and he got up in de tree, and whils’ de giants was playin’ and droppin’ to sleep, he was out wid his stones and fired through the window and hit one. He that got hit told the other, “Man, stop it! Let me get ma rest!” Wid dat he went back to sleep, and he struck him again. “If you struck me again, man, the two of us will fight.” Wid dat he went back and he struck him again. De two-head giant and de three-head giant cot (caught) hold to fight den. De three-head giant cut off de two-head giant head. After dat de three-head giant felt so lonely now, so sorry, he fell asleep. Mr. Tailor den come down off the tree, took the sword and chop de threehead giant one off. He carried it home to de queen. So den all dese men got afear’ of him, see what he can do, all de queen horse guard. Wid dat he used to pass ev’y mornin’, see a little fellow, he goes about, hears dese queen horse guard goin’ to come for him at night. Mr. Tailor gives de little boy a couple of coppers ev’y mornin’ and ev’y mornin’ little boy told what was goin’ to do. And when dey was goin’ to send seventy-five horse guard for him he kep’ awake. When dey came he cried out, “I am a tailor by name, I am a tailor by trade, I fired a nice slap, I killed seven, and if I had fired a little harder, I had killed seventy-seven.” They star’ back, gone back, says de horse star’ back, horse couldn’t stan’ the voice of him. Nex’ mornin’ little boy says, “Dey sent seventy-five for you, tonight goin’ to send a hundred for you.” Says all right, gives little boy a couple of coppers. Soon as one hundred was come, said, “Come on, I killed de two-head giant and I killed de three-head giant, and I fired a nice slap.” And de hundred start back. Wid dat dey went back and said, “Ah, Mr. Tailor can’t be took in, it’s no use worryin’ wid him.” Wid dat it come on nex’ mornin’ he didn’ give little boy anythin’. Little boy went to de queen and said if she was to make him and his family happy, he would behead Mr. Tailor. Queen has arrange upon to make him and family happy. Got a sharp sword and come along nex’ mornin’. (Mr. Tailor) says, “Little boy, anythin’?”

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Says, “No, sir.” Boy had a sharp sword. Soon as he did, he step behind and took his head clean off. Got on de horse and took up his head and carried to de queen, and so he and his family was happy from dat. Dat was de las’ end of Mr. Tailor.

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Pedro Smith Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 272–74. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

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ailor was sittin’ in his tailor shop one day, when de woman pass’ sayin’, “Get your sponge.” De tailor bought a piece for a penny, placed it on his table. When de flies got on, he caught at his belt and killed seven of the flies with one blow. Then he wrote on his belt, “What a mighty man am I to kill seven at one blow.” The king heard about it and asked him if he would marry his daughter so as to protect her. But one night he talked in his sleep, saying it was only seven flies he had killed, instead of seven men. The princess told her father and placed some soldiers behind the door to kill him. He got up in de night, and said, “I killed seven men with one blow and what about you couple of men standin’ behind the door?” At that de soldiers run and the tailor and his wife lived happily after.

NANCY FOOLS HIS WIFE Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 49–50. Date: 1921 Original Source: Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

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The Caribbean | Nancy Fools His Wife

Nancy (Anansi) turns tragedy to selfish triumph by claiming to his wife that his arm was lost not as punishment for a crime but in a work accident. His use of disguise to deceive his wife out of her only possessions suggests the trickster’s common ploy of “shapeshifting.”

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is Nancy was real smart. He have wife too, an’ a son name Little Toukouma. On one day when Nancy was out stealin’, he get his arm caught, an’ it was cut off. Some man stuff he was stealin’ when de arm get caught, an’ it take off. Dis arm got take jus’ at de elbow. When Nancy come home, his wife say, “Ah, Nancy! How you get your arm cut off?” Nancy say he been to a mill workin’, when it caught his arm an’ tear it off. He say dat it took all his arm. Dey was sorry fer Nancy, an’ he don’ do nothin’ now. He eat all dat he could get. An’ when da wife she gone, Nancy take all de food from de little Toukouma. Dis boy would be dere wid de food, an’ Nancy would come to him. Say, “Gi’ me dat food, or ah show you me stump.” Den de boy go shoutin’, for he afraid to have Nancy show him de stump a his arm. While he cryin’, de wife come, an’ say Nancy refuse to admit dat he show de boy de stump. Dis day come when Nancy want to get all de food what his wife got. Now, de woman had two pigs and a field of yams. Nancy try to t’ink how he could get dese. Each day she go to feed de pigs an’ work de yams. Nancy make up his mind dat he must get dem. On dis day Nancy he stay in de bed. Make out dat he sick. Say, “Wife, me so sick! O wife! Me too sick. Me too sick.” De woman tell him dat he must go to de doctor. Nancy say, “Ah, wife, me too sick. Me can’t go, wife. Me too sick, wife.” He roll an’ toss about, an’ de woman t’ink he about to die. Nancy tell her, “Wife, you go get de doctor! Wife, me too sick. You go!” She t’ink dat her husban’ was really sick, an’ she start fer de doctor. When she gone, Nancy up from de bed an’ take another road, so dat he come out in front of where de woman is goin’. When Nancy get dere [to meet her on the road], he have another kind a coat, so dat de woman not able to know he her own husban’. She come along. Nancy come out. Say to her, “Whar you goin’, Mrs. Anancy?” She tell him dat her husban’ so sick. Dat he look like he goin’ to die. She goin’ to get de doctor to come. He tell her dat she is doin’ de right, an’ dat she must be sure to get de doctor for him. So she went. Nancy take by different road, and he come to de place where de doctor live. When de woman come, he take bearing like he de doctor. She come to dis place.

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Say, “O doctor! Nancy is too sick. Me ’fraid he will die. Me here to bring you to him.” Den Nancy say to her. She not know who he was. All time t’ink dat dis was de doctor. “Well, Mrs. Anancy, dat is too bad. Dis is what you try to make you’ husban’ better. You has two pigs an’ a field a yams. If you kill dem pigs an’ cook ’em up wid jus’ de hair off, also cook up de yam wid dem, dat will cure you’ husban’.” Dese pigs an’ de field a yam was all dat dis woman had. But she fool. De doctor say dat no matter what Nancy say, she mus’ give him dese t’ings, or he will die. She got home. Nancy was dere now in bed. Groanin’ like he was goin’ to die. Ask her what de doctor tell her. She say dat de doctor say she mus’ kill a pig wid only de hair off, an’ cook wid de yams. Nancy say, “Don’ do it, wife! Don’ kill you’ pig! Me not satisfy you kill de pig.” He foolin’ her now, an’ she was sure to kill dem. So she have one pig kill, an’ did as de doctor tol’ her. When she bring de pig an’ yams to Nancy, he eat it all. On de next day she ask him how he feel. He say, “O wife! Me sure to die. Me too sick.” Den she tol’ him dat she was goin’ to kill de other pig. Nancy say, “No!” But she sure dat only way to save Nancy, an’ she did it. She bring de food. Nancy eat every bit a dis, an’ not give his wife an’ Little Toukouma any. Dat’s de way Nancy fool his wife. Finish.

ANNANCY AND THE YAM HILLS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smith, Pamela Coleman. “Two Negro Stories from Jamaica.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 278. Date: 1896 Original Source: Kingston, Jamaica National Origin: African American

“Annancy and the Yam Hills” shows the Caribbean and African trickster in a typical attempt to satisfy his own needs at his neighbor’s expense. In a gloss on a variant of this tale, Martha Warren Beckwith claims that the story turns on a belief that it is “unlucky to reveal to others a marvel one

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The Caribbean | Seeking Trouble

has seen oneself, or to repeat certain taboo words” (1924, 254). In any case Annancy, rather than being constrained by the witch queen’s tyranny, finds a way to subvert it, at least temporarily. The concluding maxim concerning the penalty for greed is a common way of ending Annancy tales in some Caribbean traditions.

O

ne time Annancy lived in a country where de Queen’s name was Five, an’ she was a witch; an’ she says whoever say “five” was to fall down dead.

It was very hungry times, an’ so Annancy go build himself a little house by de side of de river. An’ him make five yam hills. An’ when anybody come to get water at de river he call dem an’ say: “I beg you tell me how many yam hills I have here. I can’t count whoever well.” So den dey would come in an’ say, “One, two, three, four, five!” an’ fall down dead. Then Annancy take dem an’ corn dem in his barrel [preserved dem in brine] an’ eat dem, an’ so he live in hungry times—in plenty. So time go on, an’ one day Guinea fowl come dat way, an’ Annancy say: “Beg you, Missus, tell me how many yam hills have I here.” So Guinea fowl go an’ sit on hill an’ say: “One, two, three, four, an’ de one I am sittin’ on!” “Cho!” say Annancy; “you don’t count it right!” An’ Guinea fowl move to another yam hill an’ say: “Yes, one, two, three, four, an’ de one I am sittin’ on.” “He! You don’t count right at all!” “How you count, den?” “Why dis way,” say Annancy: “One, two, three, four, FIVE!” an’ he fell down dead, an’ Guinea fowl eat him up! Dis story show dat “Greedy choke puppy.”

SEEKING TROUBLE Variant A Tradition Bearer: Samuel Carrington Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 267–68.

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Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

In this first variant, Nancy (Anancy), the most notorious of the Caribbean tricksters, appears to manipulate others for no other reason than to stir up trouble—and perhaps to make a meal out of his friend Rabbit. The contests of Anancy or Rabbit using their wits versus the strength of Tiger and Wild Hog are common in Caribbean tradition. Strangely, Variant B substitutes Tiger for the Anancy figure. In all three versions of the tale, however, Rabbit proves clever enough to escape the menu, even when pitted against Anancy.

I

t was a rabbit once. He was a tailor. He says he never know trouble, but Nancy tol’ him to follow him, “Get a bag and come on with me.”

So, dey went in de wood and dey find de tiger young ones. Nancy put his one in de bag whole, make like he was a-tearin’ of it to pieces. Ber Rabbit tore up his one in pieces. Ber Nancy tell Ber Rabbit, “Let us go now.” On der journey dey met Ber Tiger. Ber Nancy says, “Ber Tiger, I ha’ been in de wood, and find yer young ones, so I ha’ brought dem for yer.” The reply to Ber Nancy, de tiger tell him, “I thank you, Ber Nancy.” He says, “Empty dem out de bag for me.” Ber Nancy beat out his, skipping about. He says, “Ber Rabbit, you empty out yours now.” When Ber Rabbit empty out, his only was tore in pieces. Ragin’ and foamin’ tiger made for Ber Rabbit ter catch him. Ber Rabbit was off runnin’. When he got to a crack Ber Tiger was taking hold of him. Down in de crack he went. Ber Tiger leave Ber Nancy in charge of him now, went in de wood for Wil’ Hawg to dig him out. Ber Rabbit says, “Ber Nancy, I was an ol’ man about eighty, I never knows trouble.” Ber Rabbit ask Ber Nancy to release him. He says, “No, I could not do dat, man, I am leave in charge of you.” He says, “Do, release me, dis is trouble.” He says, “No, man.” He says, “I put you in trouble and I am going to take you out of trouble.” He says, “When Ber Wil’ Hawg come, he will dig you out and Ber Tiger and he will destroy you. But by I put you in trouble, I will release

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The Caribbean | Seeking Trouble

you again. While Ber Hawg a diggin’ for you, you scratch back de mould into his eyes, he’ll come to me to blow it out. I will blow the first stuff out his eyes, though the next time he’ll ha’ to apply to Ber Tiger.” He done so, asked him to blow it, he blow it. When he come Ber Tiger, he afraid of Ber Tiger, but he did ask him to blow it out, and de water jump in Ber Tiger mouth outer Wil’ Hawg eyes. He start at him to run him down. Ber Nancy says, “Ber Rabbit, dis yer chance, cut for yer han’.” With dat Ber Nancy turn back, he says, “Man, you left him the first time to watch him, but not dis time.” He says, “If I had a couple of wil’ hawg, I couldn’ ha’ trust to dat.” Ber Tiger den had a ball, invite all of de high fellows, tell dem to invite Ber Rabbit, too. Ber Rabbit says when Ber Tiger die he will go to de funeral. Went back and told Ber Tiger to invite Mr. Tie-low, Mr. No-wag and other official to come to encourage Mr. Rabbit to come to de funeral. “And I will catch him and we’ll ha’ a nice dinner off of him.” Funeral take place at three o’clock. Ber Rabbit appear hisself. Soon as he come he begin to brush his feet. “Come in, Ber Rabbit,” he says. “I don’t like to come in a man drawing-room, my feet is dirty, you know.” He says, “When he die did he give a large blow (i.e., did he break wind)?” “No, he did not give a large blow when he died.” He says, “Well, I never know a man die and never blow yet.” He stepped back and he told Ber Tiger, he said, “I never knowed a dead man blowed yet.”

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Louise Lavinia Barrow Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 268. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

O

ncet it was a rabbit, a wil’ hawg and a tiger. De tiger strip de wil’ hawg young one in half.

De wil’ hawg meet up wid de rabbit and say, “Ber Rabbit, ye see my young one?” He said, “Go ’long out dere, I got one here in my bag. Go ’long out dere!”

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Ber Tiger got de oder wil’ hawg young one rip up in half. De Tiger tell de rabbit to jump down in de hole and when de hawg come, to take up a handful of gravel and throw in his face and blin’ him. De rabbit did do so, and when de wil’ hawg beg de tiger to blow it out of his eyes, he say he would not. He said, “Do, God bless you, blow it out of my eyes for me.” And jus’ as Tiger blew out of Wil’ Hawg eyes, he taste de saliva. “Man, you are sweet enough, why I think of you flesh much sweeter (than rabbit’s).” He make a snatch den at de tiger and de tiger make an escape and get away from him. An’ dat wa’ de end.

Variant C: The Give-away Tradition Bearer: Louise Lavinia Barrow Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 268. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

D

e meaning to dat is de rabbit an’ de tiger was good frien’s. De rabbit provoke de tiger and den de tiger get his frien’s an’ arrange ter kill de rabbit.

De tiger and de wil’ hawg was good frien’s. Summon up his frien’s den to eat de rabbit. De tiger sen’ to de rabbit, sayin’ de wil’ hawg was dead, so as to get de chance to eat him [rabbit.] An’ when de rabbit get to de do’, he wouldn’t go inside, he stay outside. De tiger say, “Frien’ come in, your frien’ has dead.” De rabbit den ask de tiger if de wil’ hawg did pass de wind when he die, an’ he say no. De rabbit say den, “Mus’ touch him, and if he pass de wind, he dead.” He did touch him and he pass de win’. He say, “Impossible for a dead man to pass de win’.” An’ he say good mornin’ and he was gone.

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The Caribbean | Brother Rabbit, Brother Booky, and Brother Cow

BROTHER RABBIT, BROTHER BOOKY, AND BROTHER COW Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 50–51. Date: 1891 Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

In the usual pairing of Rabbit and Booky (spelled variously as Bouqui, Bouki, Bookie), Booky plays the foil to Rabbit and serves as the butt of all his jokes. In this tale, however, Bouki imitates Rabbit, tries his hand at being a con man, triumphs over his targets, and wins Rabbit’s praise. In Variant B, the would-be trickster is not so lucky.

O


Now dis day it was Brother Rabbit an’ Brother Booky. The wind was blowin’; dey did n’ have nuthin’ to eat; dey could n’ ketch no fish. Dey was travelin’ along to see if dey could n’ find something to eat. An’ now when Brother Rabbit look ’e see one big cow; ’e gone to de cow. Den ’e take his hand an’ spank on de cow bottom. ’E say, “Open, Kabendye, open!” When de cow bottom open Brother Rabbit jump in with his knife an’ his pan. ’E cut his pan full o’ meat. Brother Rabbit say, “Open, Kabendye, open!” an’ de cow bottom open an’ Brother Rabbit jump out. Good! Now Brother Rabbit was goin’ home; his pan full o’ meat. Brother Booky see Brother Rabbit; say, “Brother Rabbit, where you get all dat meat?” Brother Booky say, “’F you don’ tell me where you get all dat meat I goin’ tell!”

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Brother Rabbit say, “Go right down dere where you see one big cow.” Brother Booky say, “Hall right!” Brother Rabbit say,” When you get dere you must take your han’ an’ spank hard on de cow bottom an’ say, “Open, Kabendye, open!” Brother Rabbit say, “Soon as dey open you must jump in.” Den ’e say, “You see one big t’ing inside dere; you must n’ cut dat!” Brother Rabbit say, “Mind, ’f you cut dat de cow goin’ to fall down dead.” Brother Booky gone. When ’e got dere ’e take his hand; ’e spank on de cow bottom an’ ’e say, “Open, Kabendye, open.” Den ’e jump in. Brother Booky cut, ’e cut, ’e cut his hand full! Brother Booky wan’ satisfied; ’e went an’ ’e cut de cow heart; de cow fall down; Bran’, ’e dead! Den Brother Booky say, “Open, Kabendye, open!” After ’e foun’ de cow bottom could n’ open, ’e went inside de cow mouth. Nex’ mornin’, when de people come to feed ’im, dey found de cow dead. Now dey begin to clean de cow; skin ’im. After dey done clean ’im dey cut ’im open; dey take out all his guts. Brother Booky was inside de maw; swell up. De woman say, “Cut dat big t’ing open. See what in dere!” After dat dey went to cut it open; den Brother Booky jump ’way yonder. Dey did n’ see ’im. Brother Booky say, “See what you t’row on me. Ma jus’ sent me down here to buy fresh beef, den you go t’row all dis nasty stuff on me!” De people say, “Hush, don’ cry, we give you half o’ de cow!” Brother Booky say, “I don’ want no half!” ’E say, “I goin’ to carry you to jail!” Den de man say, “No, Brother Booky, we give you half o’ de cow!” De man goin’ t’row another stinkin’ pan o’ water an’ blood out. Brother Booky jump ’way yonder [in order to be splashed by the water and blood]. De man t’row it on Brother Booky. Den Brother Booky say, “Now I ain’ goin’ to stop; I goin’ carry you right to de jail!” De man say, “Hush, Brother Booky, don’ cry, I goin’ give you half o’ de cow!” Anyhow, dey give Brother Booky half o’ de cow. Brother Booky take it on his shoulder; ’e gone. When ’e look ’e see Brother Rabbit. Brother Rabbit say, “Hey, where you get all o’ dat meat?” Brother Booky say, “I went down dere; I cut dat big, big t’ing in de cow, an’ de cow fall down dead.” Den ’e say, “When de people come in de mornin’ to kill de cow,” ’e say, “I was inside de cow; when dey cut dat big t’ing I jump ’way yonder; I say, “See what you t’row ’pon me!” ’E say, “Den dey give me half o’ de cow.” Brother Rabbit say, “Dat’s de way to do!” E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

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The Caribbean | The Sperrit House

Variant B: In the Cow’s Belly Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 54. Date: 1921 Original Source: Antigua National Origin: African American

O

nce was a time when dere was not much to eat. Nancy he went out, an’ come to a cow. He gwine jump in dis cow. He say, “Open, Toukouma, open!” An de cow open behin’. He went in. In dere he cut off all de flesh he want. He fill da sacks he got. Den he say da same, an’ cow open. He went home wid de flesh. Toukouma had a little datter. Send dis datter to get fire. Chil’ see dat Nancy was cookin’. Don’ know what it is. She wanted to know. Every fire dat she got, she put it out. She put out all de fire he gi’ her. An’ de chil’ got a bit a de meat. De bit which she get, one strand stick in her teeth. Goin’ home she grin’ her teeth to her fader. An’ he went to Nancy to know where he could get dis flesh. Nancy tol’ him about de same cow. Unknowing to Nancy, Toukouma went to dis cow. He get in dis cow da same way. Toukouma greedy, cut out de main guts. De cow fall, an’ he not able to get out. De owner, seein’ dat he cow dead an’ de big bump in de belly, wondered what is it. Dey cut dis open, an’ find it is Toukouma. He receive a beating, an’ t’row away de meat from him.

THE SPERRIT HOUSE Tradition Bearer: Merle Woods Source: Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 306–7. Date: 1929–1930 Original Source: Nassau, Bahamas National Origin: African American

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The pairing of Rabbit and Bookie (Hyena) is common not only in the Caribbean (as in “Brother Rabbit, Brother Booky, and Brother Cow,” p. 255) but also in other traditions sharing regions with African-descended cultures. The Louisiana Cajun tales “On Horseback” (p. 61) and “The Wine, the Farm, the Princess, and the Tarbaby” (p. 49) also rely on the stock characters Rabbit (Lapin) and Bouqui. “The Sperrit House” paints a typical portrait of Bookie as a blundering, greedy character. In the following narrative, rather than Bookie serving as the foil for Rabbit, Rabbit simply provides the means for Bookie to get in trouble. Rabbit, in fact, proves the more sensible of the two, but he cannot influence Bookie to exercise the same good judgment. The rhymed opening and closing of the tale follow a familiar Caribbean formula.

O

nce upon a time was a good old time. Monkey chew tobacco and spit white lime.

Now it was Brer Bookie and Brer Rabbit used to go out stealing. Go to de sperrit (spirit) house and this night Brer Bookie see Brer Rabbit coming down wid a dray (low, heavy horse cart without sides used for hauling) load of things. Brer Bookie say: “Brer Rabbit, where you get all these good things from?” He scratch he head. Brer Rabbit tell him: “From de sperrit house and tomorrow morning at six o’clock I will take you get something, too.” Bookie wake up at five o’clock and say to Brer Rabbit: “Six o’clock now time to go. Six o’clock now time to go.” Rabbit say: “Naw, it ain’t six o’clock yet.” So Bookie catch a big fire in de yard to say daylight come. Rabbit say: “No, mon, daylight ain’t come yet.” So when six o’clock come, Brer Rabbit put on his clothes and both of them went till they come to de sperrit house. When they come there Rabbit say: “My house come down so low.” And de house come down and they went in and Brer Bookie say: “Mon, good food in here, good food in here. I will cook a pot of peas and rice.” And he did and both of them sit down and eat. And when it was time for them to go, Brer Bookie didn’t went. He say: “Mon, I got to stay and eat.”

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The Caribbean | Bale of Cotton or Bag of Salt

And Brer Rabbit went out and said: “My house, my house, go up so high.” And de house went up. And when it was time for de sperrits to come, they said: “My house, my house, come down so low.” And they went in and said: “Someone has been in here.” They begin to cook peas and rice and salt, but when it was finish de sperrit give his little girl a pan full and she went by de bed to sit down and eat. Bookie had done hid under de bed from de sperrits. Bookie say to her: “Gimme some, gimme some.” And he beg and beg all from her. And she went and ask her father for more and de father give it to her, and he eat all dat from de little girl. And she went and ask for more and her father say: “Your gut must be as a barrel, eh?” After Bookie done eat all dat from her, she say: “I got two, papa. One on top de bed and one underneath de bed.” Then de sperrit get a sea rod and beat him—Bookie—wid it. All de time de house going up, going up, and he t’row him out and broke Bookie neck. Biddy, biddy bend, My story is end. Turn loose de rooster.

BALE OF COTTON OR BAG OF SALT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 276. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

The following joke articulates the intergroup strife between Jamaica and Barbados from the Barbadian perspective. The Barbadian, apparently relying on the Jamaican to make an inappropriate choice, allows the

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other to choose between two burdens to carry to Heaven. The choices suggest greed on the Jamaican’s part, owing to his choice of the larger, more valuable but ultimately less portable of the two items. This results in the Barbadian having the last laugh from Heaven as the Jamaican remains tied to earth by an unwise choice. This brief narrative, therefore, combines both the attributes of an ethnic joke and a moral tale.

A

little joke a man was giving me one time about a Jamaican and a Barbadian. All told him they was going to Heaven. So they had two things to carry along, a bale of cotton, and a bag of salt. The Jamaican says, “Barbadian, choose first. The Barbadian says, “No, Jamaican, you choose first.” The Jamaican went for the bale of cotton, the Barbadian ran for the bag of salt. Before they start now the rain came down and the salt giff (melt away), and the Barbadian went up light. The Jamaican never get there, the cotton was too heavy.

MR. HARD TIME Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 81–82. Date: 1921 Original Source: Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

The foolish misunderstandings of a husband’s orders to his wife lead first to disaster then to wealth in this variant of “Guarding the Door” (AT1653A).

Y 260

ou see, it was like dis. A man was goin’ out one day, an’ he took his money an’ give it to his wife, an’ tell her to keep it for hard time. At da same time, you know, he had owed a man by da name of Mr. Hard Time.

The Caribbean | Mr. Hard Time

His wife misunderstand him, an’ pay it all to Mr. Hard Time. When da husban’ come home, she tol’ him, “Mr. Hard Time was here, an’ I pay him all da money you gave.” You can picture dat man feelin’, for it was all da money he had. Man got ’rouse’, an’ start to quarrel with his wife. Den he tol’ her to close de door an’ follow him. Instead of she closin’ de door, she lift up de door an’ put it on her shoulder. An dey went travelin’ through a wood. Whiles’ dey was goin’ on, you know, dey saw all kinds of food under a tree, an’ dey sat down an’ was ready to eat some of what was dere. In da meantime dey heard a set of robbers comin’, an’ both clambered up in da tree. Dis woman climb da tree with dis heavy door on her back, too. Well, da robbers come an’ form a circle under da tree. Dey bring in all dere gold, an’ had it under dis tree. Well, da robbers didn’t see dem. Den da woman said de door was hurtin’ her shoulders, an’ she were goin’ to t’row it; an’ her husban’ tell her not to do it, da robbers see it an’ kill dem. An’ she t’rowed it down. Da robbers got scared, an’ said, “Da Lord has sent us vengeance in an earthquake.” ’Cause dat door came crashin’ down. So dey run an’ make anodar camp. Dere was a little boy with dem. Dey sent him back to see what had become of da gold. Da little boy came along whistlin’. Da man tol’ him dat’s not da way to whistle—come, an’ he’ll show him how to whistle like a man. He tell him to long out [stick out] his tongue an’ let him scrape it. Da man did scrape a little of da boy’s tongue, an’ he whistle a little clearer. Den he ask him, “Don’t you see you whistle clearer?” Da boy say, “Yes,” an’ ask him to scrape a little more. Da boy long out his tongue, an’ da man cut off a piece of his tongue. At dat da boy run back to da robbers, goin’, “Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma!” talkin’ like a man who is dumb. At dat da robbers got scared an’ start to run too, an’ dey run in da sea an’ all over. Some turn shark, some turn whale, some turn ballyho [a fish], some turn turtle—dey turn all different kind a animal. During dis time da man an’ woman took to carry home da gold. Dey brought back a wagon an’ carry away da rest of da stuff. An’ I, da storyteller, got some of dat money, an’ became rich myself. And I went through Miss Havercomb alley, An’ I see a lead was bendin’; So de lead ben’, So de story en’.

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JOHN THE FOOL AND JOHN THE SMART Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Comhaire-Sylvain, Suzanne. “Creole Tales from Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 50 (1937): 274–81. Date: 1930 Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

“John the Fool and John the Smart” represents one of the more complex tales in the current collection. Burdened with a well-intentioned but foolish brother, John the Smart is dragged along in the wake of John the Fool’s foolish antics and impulsive choices, from the killing of their mother with boiling bath water (motif K1462) through confrontations with devils in groups and in single combat to winning the hand of a princess—all due to John the Fool’s miscues. Ti-Malice and Buki are well-known folktale characters; Ti-Malice is the true trickster, whereas Buki (compare to “Bouqui and Lapin: The Smokehouse,” p. 108) is the genuine fool. In this narrative, John the Fool unwittingly combines attributes of both.

V

oila! There was a very old woman who had twin boys, one was called John the Fool, the other John the Smart. John the Fool used to stay at home with his mother to watch the shop, John the Smart used to go to the market. One day John the Smart was sick, he sent his brother. John the Fool asked for a lot of money for all the purchases he thought necessary. His mother gave him a large quantity of two-cob coins, amounting to three gourdes. He set forth. “Thus, if I meet some beggars, I shall have enough money to give them.” This idea in his head, before turning the crossroad he thought he had heard one. He did not turn back but looked aside and saw his shadow walking behind him. “Very well, you may go, here are two cobs!” He threw away two cobs and walked on. At another crossroad he again saw his shadow.

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The Caribbean | John the Fool and John the Smart

“I am in a hurry, dear, I cannot stay. Here are two cobs, take it all the same!” He threw away the money and went on. Each time he had this thought he looked aside and saw his shadow. “What a lot of beggars! It is a procession! Why do these people walk like that behind me? Maybe my brother told them I had some money.” When he had only two gourdins more, he told the shadow: “Friend, I have already given away all my money, go to my home to get some more.” The shadow still followed him. “How stubborn this man is!” John the Fool turned round angrily, the shadow disappeared. “When a man knows how to speak with people. I am a superman!” When he reached the market he thought his brother had asked for spinach. They sold him a small bundle for ten cobs. He chided: “Thieves! You have me pay ten cobs for a tiny bundle of weeds. I do not want it. Keep your thing!” He entered a small shop where they sold tafia. He asked for ten cobs. They poured it in his bottle. The liquid reached the height of two spread fingers. The man was dissatisfied. “How stupid I would be to stay here and lose my money! Madam, I am not asking for alms, I am buying, take back your thing and return my money.” The merchant protested shouting, John the Fool shouted back. He had the woman take back her tafia to get his bottle. Disgusted he went away. On the roadside he saw wild spinach, he plucked it and filled his bottle in the river. When he reached home John the Smart asked: “Where are the goods I asked you to buy?” “These people are thieves. They thought they could deceive me. They sold for spinach a handful of weeds and wanted me to pay quite a sum for it. If you want weeds, here are some, gratis! They gave me two fingers of tafia for ten cobs, I left it to them, here is God’s tafia gratis! I had forgotten the other errands...” “Where is my money?” “Your money? As soon as I had passed the door a lot of beggars set to walk behind me, I gave them the whole money. There is two gourdins left, take them!” “John the Fool, my poor brother! I am obliged to go to town, you will stay here to give mother her bath. Don’t forget, a lukewarm bath!” Now the old lady was paralysed, she could watch the shop but one had to help her to get dressed, to eat, to walk, she could not even blow her nose alone. John the Fool put water on the fire, he had his mother sit at the bottom of the bath and threw a boilerful of hot water upon her. The old lady died without a word.

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“How pleased mother is with her bath! Look at her laugh, she cannot close her mouth. Let me give you your pipe!” He did not wait for an answer and thrust the old woman’s pipe down into her throat. “When you want to get out, call me to help you!” He sat down at the doorsill and forgot the mother. When John the Smart came back he told him: “My dear! How happy the old lady is about her bath! She laughed so much that her mouth remained opened. I gave her her pipe.” John the Smart, who knew his brother, felt uncomfortable and ran into the house. “Mother, Mother!” He came nearer: “John the Fool, the old woman is dead, you have killed our mother!” John the Fool burst into shrieks (if I may say so without lacking respect for the audience). “Don’t cry, poor brother, it is not your fault, God has made you this way, I ought not to forget that.” They made the funeral and sold the house to get some money: John the Smart wanted to travel. He gathered all his clothes in a big bundle and put all his money in a silk handkerchief which he placed in the middle of the bundle. John the Fool took his game cock, his razor and a calabash of water. While walking John the Smart said: “I have forgotten my pot!” Now if you are looking for an obliging man and do not take John the Fool you will not find any. He darted homeward and came back with a door on his back. “What do you want me to do with that?” “Did you not ask for your door?” “How foolish! Take the door back where it belongs, it will hinder our walking.” “No! I will not make this journey another time!” They walked a great deal. Night came. They saw a big wood and as they were afraid of beasts and of bad people they climbed up a tree. This tree was a very large kapok tree; they sat in a fork, John the Fool pulled up the door and held it upright in the branches. He put the cock in the pocket of his jacket and the calabash in the pocket of his trousers. They slept. In the middle of the night they heard some noise and got up. (Under the tree) they saw a big trestle table with cloth, silver-plate and all kinds of good things to eat or drink. In a corner there were four big bags well tied up. A great quantity of small devils were frolicking around the table. How they were frolicking! John the Smart said: (“I want some wine!) I am thirsty for wine.” “I do not have any, here is water!”

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John the Fool passed the calabash. He took it awkwardly, the water fell on the tablecloth of the devils. They laughed merrily. “Here is the dew! Our business is blessed!” All of them got up, they began to dance and to sing and made a large ring around the table. John the Fool wanted to see everything but the table prevented it. “I will let it fall!” “Look out! Watch out for your life, these people will strangle you.” “Have you forgotten my razor?” He dropped the door! It fell in the middle of the table, put out the lamp of the devils and crashed the glassware and china. “Earthquake, earthquake!” The devils vanished away. John the Fool came down with his brother and they lighted a candle. John the Smart examined the bags, found them filled with money and put one into his bundle. John the Fool sat beside the table and ate till full. While he was eating, one of the devils came back. These devils were big-headed dwarfs of the size of a ten-year-old child with a long beard. The dwarf gazed for a long time. John the Fool shaved his beard with his razor. The devil laughed. John the Fool shaved half his beard and asked him: “Do you want to shave? At your service. But before that I want to know only one thing, let me see the string of your tongue, open your mouth!” The devil opened his mouth. John the Fool severed his tongue. The devil howled and ran to his people. “What is the matter? Where is our money?” “Tru-ru-ru-ru-ru!” He showed them his maimed tongue. They sent another devil. Now John the Fool was eating in the dark with his brother, the lamp had remained on the table; when the devil arrived they saw him while he could not see them, they jumped on him and severed his tongue. John the Smart said: “Let us take all the bags and go away!” “They are too heavy. My dear! I don’t want to get sick!” They left. They walked and walked. They reached a town where they did not see anybody. All the houses and shops were brightly lighted, there were lamps and candles everywhere but no man or animal was in sight. As they stared at this, a calabash rolled near them. John the Fool touched his brother: “Take care of your feet!” Another calabash came to meet the first, there was a conversation. The brothers stayed on the side of the hilly road. Calabashes appeared tumbling down the slope, they came into collision, they gathered and whispered. The brothers did not understand a word.

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Then a calabash marched up to John the Fool: “You are foreigners?” “Yes, Mrs. Calabash. But, tell me, is there anything else than calabashes? I did not see anybody. How can a calabash speak?” “Shut up, child! We are men like you but we are obliged to live in calabashes, the master of the town is a frightful devil. For six months we have been in the night, because fearing robbers he has hidden the key of daylight in the middle of his heart. If he were to find you here walking like a man surely he would eat you! Here are two empty calabashes, get in!” John the Smart was a man who did not like to get into trouble. He asked, “How can we manage? We are too big.” “Look at this hole! Put the point of your foot into it, the whole foot will pass, push a little, the whole leg will pass, your body will reduce, it will grow smaller and smaller, push on, it will slip to the bottom of the calabash.” Smart did as he was told, these people were right, he disappeared into the hole. The Fool stood alone. “Get into your house!” “I, never! I am not a coward, the devil may kill me. I will not creep into a calabash. You are all dastards! All the men I have seen in the town let only one devil rule them (this way)? You consent to lose the daylight and live like beasts, what did I say? Worse than beasts, there are walking beasts, as for you, you can only roll. No, gentlemen, I will stay upright, if I die I will die like a man, not like a beast!” At this moment, John the Fool’s cock crowed: “Ko-kee-yoo-koo! Ko-keeyoo-koo!” The devil had given orders to kill all cocks, the crowd vanished. “This man is crazy! If the Master believes we are his accomplices he will kill us!” The cock felt it was four o’clock, as he did not see the sun, he crowed again: “Ko-kee-yoo-koo!” From very far a confused roar was heard in answer: “I have told the day it would break no more. I have told the day it would break no more. Either on this side or on the other. I have told the day it would break no more!” “Aha!” John the Fool also sang: “I tell the day it must break anew. I tell the day it must break anew.

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Either on this side or on the other. I tell the day it must break anew!” The devil’s song was coming nearer and nearer, and always louder. “I have told the day it would break no more. I have told the day it would break no more Either on this side or on the other. I have told the day it would break no more!” John the Fool swelled his whole body, he shouted so as to cover the voice of the devil. “I tell the day it must break anew. I tell the day it must break anew. Either on this side or on the other. I tell the day it must break anew!” The devil appeared: he was taller than this house, when he sang everything shook. “I have told the day it would break no more. I have told the day it would break no more. Either on this side or on the other. I have told the day it would break no more!” John the Fool prepared his razor. “I tell the day it must break anew. I tell the day it must break anew. Either on this side or on the other. I tell the day it must break anew!” They fought relentlessly. John the Fool goaded him with his razor, he cut him, he carved him, he did not leave to the devil time enough to breathe. The devil was tired. The Fool plunged the razor into his temple, the devil cried and died. The Fool hurled him on the ground and opened his heart, he found a small box with a tiny lock in which the key was hung. He turned the key and the sun shone, it was daylight. During the time all these things were happening, John the Smart was talking merrily with the people (in the calabashes). They told him there was a king

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who ruled the country (before) the devil came and stole the key of daylight. The king was greatly offended, but he was afraid to fight the devil, so he promised that the man who would bring back the key would marry his legitimate daughter. John the Smart approached his brother. “Hand me the key, I want to see something!” “Here it is!” John the Fool did not look at him, he was lecturing the crowd. “Gentlemen, come out of your calabashes, don’t be afraid, you are men anew. I am your chief, my brother is your lieutenant. Where has he gone? John the Smart, John the Smart!” The Smart was far away. With his money he had hired a horse and rushed to the Palace. The guards stopped him. “Tell the king I have come to him with news of his key.” The king came. “What do you know?” He held his tongue and handed the key. “Where is the box?” “Good Lord! I was galloping so fast that the box has dropped.” “Don’t take it so to heart, that’s nothing. I will have another one made, only the key was indispensable. Now tell me how you managed to kill this big devil.” John the Smart sat down. Everything the Fool had done he said it was himself. The king was glad, he called his children and his wife, introduced Monsieur and betrothed him to the girl. John the Fool was looking for his brother. He left his money and his commanding position to walk and search. He stopped everybody he met to ask if they had not seen the other one. “John the Smart is like Ti-Malice, he cannot be dead. I must find him!” One day he was overtired, he sat down in a crossroad to eat a cassava soaked in cane syrup. He heard two women talking: “My dear, what a beautiful wedding it will be! These people have prepared such a quantity of food!” John the Fool listened more carefully, his mouth watered. He understood it was the king’s daughter who was to marry the man who had killed the devil, the same man who had caused the day to break. He felt unable to realize how this could be done: “I am the man they are talking about! I don’t want to be married to somebody I do not know, to a girl I have never seen, she may be hunchbacked! I don’t want, I do not want that at all! I am going to the king!” He reached the Palace. The guards stopped him. “No trespassing. What do you want?”

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“I want to speak to the king.” “Have you an appointment? What have you to tell him?” “Is that your business? What insolence! You don’t want me to come in, very well I will call the king from here.” The fellow began to shout: “King, king! They oppose my entering here, come out to meet me! King, kiing!” The soldiers tried to silence him, the more they tried, the more he shouted. The king appeared at the window. “Let him speak. You, what do you want?” “King, I heard everybody announce the wedding of your daughter with the man who had killed the devil who kept day from breaking. King, I am this man and I have come to tell you not to be in such a hurry. How could I want your daughter, I don’t know her!” “This man is mad!” “You are the mad man! Listen, king, here is your box!” “How did you lose the key?” “It was never lost, I lent it to my brother who wanted to see how it was made.” John the Fool did not look like a liar. The king understood there was some deceit in the whole thing. He sent for his (future) son-in-law who came in splendidly dressed. John the Fool rushed to his neck: “Where were you! I thought you were lost. What fine clothes, dear, how elegant!” “When will you stop with your bad manners? You have crumpled my jacket so it looks chawed by an ox.’’ The king asked them very severely: “Now, gentlemen, explain to me what I see. You wanted to fool me!” John the Smart was ashamed but the Fool told the old man: “Is it your business, king? You have your key and you have your box. You had promised your daughter to the man who would bring back the key, he did it, give him your daughter, I will not be jealous!” The Fool came a little nearer: “You had never spoken of the box, I have brought your box, you cannot leave me without compensation, do you have something for me?” “Listen! Both of you are twins, is it not true? You look so much alike. I will appoint you general, I have other daughters...” “Ach, king! Ambition kills the rat. When I passed through the yard I smelt all kinds of good flavours, my heart was thrilled. Would you care to appoint me your kitchen inspector?” “Oh my! Buki is Buki.”

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ANANSI AND THE LADY IN THE WELL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Trowbridge, Ada Wilson. “Negro Customs and Folk-Stories of Jamaica.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 283–84. Date: 1896 Original Source: Jamaica National Origin: African American

Anansi, often simply called “Nancy” in Jamaican tradition, plays out the ambiguities of tricksters cross-culturally. While identified with a large, black spider found throughout the islands, in the “Nancy tales” he may take on human form along with his human attributes. Often turning his guile to selfish and even sadistic ends, in the tale of “Anansi and the Lady in the Well,” he acts as a compassionate intermediary between an abused wife and her neglected child. Although his motivations remain unknowable, the same figure who, in “Nancy Fools His Wife,” reveals himself to be an abusive father and an exploitive spouse intervenes to help the victims of an abusive and exploitive male figure.

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nce it was a time when there was a good queen. An’ she have husban’ an’ one pretty baby. An’ she have one little pet dog, who go trot, trot, all ’bout de house after her. Now de husban’ he t’ink nothin’ at all of him wife, an’ he say to himse’f. “I put dat queen down de ole well, and den I get another mo’ beau’ful queen.” Den he do dis same t’ing what he t’ink in him ole black heart. Now de queen she fall way down to de bottom of de well an’ she can’t scramble out no way, an’ jus’ sit all de day and cry fu’ her baby. By an’ by Nancy he come scrape, scrape, crup, crup, down de side de well an’ say: “Howdy! W’at fo’ you cry, me lady?” De queen say: “Howdy, Nancy! Me cry fo’ me baby.” “Jus’ jump on me back,” say Nancy, “an’ I fetch you’ out dat well.”

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The Caribbean | Magic Flight

He take de queen on him back and go scrape, scrape, crup, crup, up de side de well. Den he say: “Now run! Wash de baby, an’ me fetch you down de well again befo’ your husban’ catch you.” Den she run to de door an’ sing: O-pen de do’, my lit-tle dog-gie! An’ de little dog sing: Yes, fo’ certain, my fair la-dy! Den she sing ’gain: Fetch the baby, my lit-tle dog-gie! An’ de little dog sing: Yes, fo’ certain, my fair la-dy! An’ so till all de t’ings fetched* an’ de baby all wash, dress, an’ sleep so sweet. Den she run back to Nancy an’ he take her on him back an’ go scrape, scrape, crup, crup, back down de well ’gain. An’ ev’ry day Nancy come dis way and say: “Howdy, me lady!” and take de queen on him back an’ fetch her out de well, an’ she wash an’ dress dat baby till him grow big boy. *In telling this story the narrator will often sing for each article of the baby’s toilette, and sing the reply of the dog, in the simple measures given above.

MAGIC FLIGHT Tradition Bearer: Fred Gill Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 275. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

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The following ordinary folktale is a brief version of the internationally distributed “The Girl as Helper in the Hero’s Flight” (AT313). In this tale the male hero plays a subordinate role to his female benefactor, who helps him escape from bondage to her father by cleverness and magic.

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nce ’pon a time and a very long time. A young feller and a giant played dice. The giant told the boy, if he wanted, he would give him his daughter and make him rich. But if he won the boy would have to undertake great tasks. The giant succeeded in winning from the boy, took the boy to his home and told him to cut down a large tree. As soon as he had cut the tree, the tree sprung up again, and the giant’s daughter gave the boy an ax which cut down the tree at one blow. The giant then gave him another job. Cut down the hill. The more he cut, the higher the hill grew. The giant’s daughter gave him a drill which struck the hill down with one blow. The girl told the boy she would get him away from the place. Said her father had three horses, one which could go sixty miles an hour, another fifty, the last one, forty. She took the one that goes sixty, and gave the boy the one that goes fifty and left the other one for her father. They started up. As soon as they passed a great forest the father shouted, “How did you pass through?” The girl said, “I eat and my horse eat, too.” The father and his horse eat so much that they could scarcely move. As soon as the girl and the boy had passed a river, the father shouted out, “How did you get through?” The girl said, “I drink and my horse drank, too.” The father and his horse drank until their bowels were burst, and the girl and the boy were married and lived happily after that. I jump on a wire and the wire ben’, That’s the way the story end.

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The Caribbean | The Three Sons

THE THREE SONS Tradition Bearer: Merle Woods Source: Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 307–9. Date: 1929–1930 Original Source: Nassau, Bahamas National Origin: African American

This classic Old World ordinary folktale (“The Table, the Ass, and the Stick,” AT563) can be found in the present collection in both this Caribbean variant and the Mid-Atlantic variant “Tablecloth, Donkey, and Club” (Vol. I, p. 279). This tale type begins with a child cast out due to stupidity; in the Bahamian variant, however, three sons are cast out because of the lies told by a talking goat. Further, this tale is developed according to another common European formula, the trials of three brothers. This constitutes an important structural difference between both the usual structure of AT563 and the Mid-Atlantic variant.

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nce upon a time was a good old time, Monkey chew tobacco and spit white lime.

There was a man. He had three sons. One day he send de eldest out into de woods to feed de goat. And de son looked for de greenest place to feed de goat. And when he was ready to go home he asked de goat have he had sufficient and de goat said, “I had enough till I hardly can pull.” When de goat went home, de father asked de son if he give de goat a plenty of food. And de son said: “Yes, I have give it plenty.” And de father asked de goat had he have enough and de goat said: “I hadn’t hardly anything.” So he beat that son out and drove him away. And de next day he sent de other son wid de goat and de son looked for de greenest place to feed de goat. And when he was going home he asked de goat if he had sufficient and de goat said: “I had enough till I hardly could pull.”

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When de son went home de father asked if he give de goat plenty and he said: “I have give him enough till he said he hardly could pull.” De father asked de goat if he had sufficient and he said: “I had hardly anything.” And he beat that son and he stoned him away. De next day he sent de last son and when de son went he looked for de best spot he could find. And when he was going home he asked de goat if he had sufficient and de goat said de same as he told de other two. When he got home de father asked de son, who said: “I gave de goat plenty so he hardly could pull.” And when he asked de goat he said he hardly had anything. So he stoned that son out. And de next day de father went and he looked for de best place and when he was coming home he asked de goat if he had sufficient and de goat said: “I had enough till I hardly could pull.” And when he get home he asked de goat had he had enough and de goat said: “I hadn’t hardly anything.” So he said: “You was de cause of my three sons not being here today,” and he killed de goat and sent it away. And de eldest son was coming home then, and de man who he was working wid give him a table. And he said, “This is not an ordinary table. Just as you say ‘Table be covered’ de table will have all kind of nice food on it.” When he come that night he stopped at de restaurant and then he begin to eat. He say to de landlord: “I could get better food than all of you all.” Just as he say “Table be covered” de daintiest food come on and everybody wanted some, and he give everybody some. And after he lodged there that night, while he was asleep de landlord stole away his table and put his table there and when he wake up that morning, he didn’t notice this table. He just take it up and went on and when he get home he told his father he have got a table can be covered wid de best food. Just as I say: “Table be covered” de best food come on. So he called all de neighbors around and people was saying: “We won’t have to eat no dinner at home then.” So he said: “Table be covered,” and nothing come on de table. He was shame and de people had to went back without anything. And de father said: “I have to take up my needle and thread again.” Next day de other son come. And when he was leaving his master give him a donkey and he told him: “This is not an ordinary donkey. Soon as you say ‘brickle-a-brick,’ piles of gold will come.” So he came to de same restaurant. When he get his food he give de man a piece of gold he asked de boy where he get it. And he didn’t say anything. He went outside and said “brickle-a-brick” and piles of gold came on de tablecloth.

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The Caribbean | The Three Sons

And de landlord was peeping through a hole and he saw him, and after that he tied his donkey and that night he went to bed. While he was ’sleep de landlord went and stole his donkey and put his donkey in place. And next morning he didn’t notice de donkey. He went home and told his father about his donkey and he called all de neighbors around. When de neighbors came he said “brickle-a-brick” and de donkey didn’t do anything. And he was so shame and he wrote to de youngest brother and telling him what de landlord had stole from de two brothers. So when de last son was leaving his master give a stick in de sack. He said: “This is not an ordinary stick. Just as you say ‘Stick out de sack,’ it will jump out and beat up your enemies.” And when he come de landlord was watching this bag. When he went to bed he played sleep. De landlord went and take de bag away and de boy get up and say “stick out de sack” and de stick jumped out and beat up de man. He had to plead for mercy. De boy say: “Stick in de bag, if you promise to give me de two things you stole from my brothers I’ll have mercy on you.” And he promise him that he will give back de table and de donkey. And he give it to him. And he went home wid all to his father and brothers and de father said: “At last I will put down my needle and thread.” Biddy, biddy, biddy, my story is ended. I let go Dorothy and hold you.

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THE CHOSEN SUITOR Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 62–63. Date: 1921 Original Source: George W. Edwards, Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

The story of a young woman’s marriage to an animal (boar, snake, and bull, among others) in human disguise is a common West Indian tale. The young woman’s savior is most often her brother, and this is the case in “The Chosen Suitor” (p. 277), a tale from the southern United States. The boy is despised because of some physical affliction—in this tale he has leprosy, in others the affliction is yaws, a clubfoot, or an infestation of vermin. Despite the loathing of others, he is an “ol’ witch boy” who is able to perceive the suitor’s disguise and compel him to reveal himself. Commentators are in general agreement that this tale is of African origin.


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ere’s a woman had one daughter an’ one son. Dis boy coco-bay (leprosy) boy, an’ he was an ol’ witch too. Dis woman wouldn’t allow da girl to court anybody, you know. So one day Bro’ Boar-Hog came dere, properly dressed same as any gentleman. When he want to drop off his clothes, he had a song to sing. Da day when dis Bro’ Boar-Hog come to see da daughter, da son tell his mother, “Ma, don’ let sister marry to dis man, for he’s a boar-hog!” Da mother drive him off, an’ say dat he was rude. She say dat dis man was a gentleman. He tol’ da mother, “All right! You will see.” One day da mother give him some food to carry to dis man, all tied up nicely on a tray. When da boy reach to da yard, he got behind a tree. While he got behind da tree, he see dis boarhog rootin’ up de ground. An’ dis boar-hog root all de ground, like ten men with forks. Dis boy stay behind da tree an’ see all he do. When da boy see him, he wait a little; den da boy say, “Ahem!” Boar-Hog jump around; he start to say, “Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um!” Dat caused his clothes to jump right on him accordin’ as he sing da song. He step out, put his two hands in his pocket, an’ say, “Boy, see how I plough up dis land!” He boast about da work he do on da field. Den he say to da boy, “How long you come?” Boy say, “Just come.” He took da food an’ carry it in da house, an’ tell da boy all right, he can go home. Da boy didn’t go home. He got behind de tree again. When Bro’ Boar-Hog t’ought da boy gone, he had a long trough, an’ he dump all de food in da trough. He t’row a bucket a water in too. Den, when he done, he start to say, “Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um!” An’ all his clothes drop off. He went in da trough. All dat time da boy watchin’ him, you know. Boy start for home now, an’ tell his mother all what he see. Da grandfather tell him all right, dey’ll catch him. De daughter an’ mother didn’t believe, but da grandfather believed.

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The Caribbean | The Big Worm

So dat same afternoon dis Bro’ Boar-Hog came to da house all dressed up in frock-coat. As he come in da house, he start talkin’ an’ laughin’ wid da mother an’ daughter. During dis time da ol’ man had his gun prepare. Little boy take up his fife an’ start to play da same song: “Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um!” Bro’ Boar-Hog say, “What vulgar song dat boy singin’!” He start to movin’. He not able to keep still, ’cause his tail comin’ out fast. Quick he say, “Stop it, stop it! Let’s go out for a walk! Let’s go out for a walk! I can’t stay here.” So dey all went out, da daughter, da mother, an’ da grandfather. After dey was goin’ on, dey was talkin’ when Bro’ Boar-Hog look back, he see da boy was comin’. He say, “Where dat boy goin’, where he goin’? Turn him back. I don’t want to be in his company.” So da grandfather tol’ him let da boy alone, let him go for a walk too. Grandfather say, “Play, boy! Play, boy!” Da boy start, “Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um! Indiana, Indiana, um, um!” His beaver [hat] drop off. Den he play on again da same song: his coat drop, his shirt drop. All drop save his pant. Da ol’ man tell him, “Play, boy! Play, play, play!” An’ his pant drop off. Dey see his long tail show, an’ he start to run. Da ol’ man point da gun at him an’ shoot him dead. “An’ I went through Miss Havercomb alley, An’ I see a lead was bending; So da lead ben’, So da story en’.”

THE BIG WORM Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. Pages 72–73 in Bahama Songs and Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 3. New York: American Folklore Society, 1895.

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“The Big Worm” is a member of the class of stories known in the Bahamas as “old story.” These stories are, at their cores, of African rather than European origin. See the appendix to this volume (p. 301) for the original version of this tale.

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So once there was a man; he had two sons; dey did n’ have no fire. All dey had to eat was raw potatoes. Now de man send dis boy to look for fire. De boy walk; he walk; he walk till ’e saw smoke rising. When ’e gone ’e get to dat fire. When ’e get there, he saw a worm was full o’ fire. De boy say, “Dimme some fan!” (Give me some fire). De worm say, “’T ain’, ’t ain’ none; jus’ enough for me.” De worm say, “Come in little closer.” Good! Soon as de boy wen’ a little closer, when ’e went to reach de fire de worm swallow ’im down. Den de boy wen’ down, right down, down inside de worm till ’e stop. De boy met whole lot o’ people what de worm did swallow. So now de man tell de other son, “I wonder where my son gone?” De other son say, “Pa, I goin’ look for him.” ’e walk, ’e walk, ’e walk till ’e come to this big worm, what had de fire in his mouth. So now de boy went to de worm. De boy say, “Dimme some fan!” De worm say, “Keelie o’ fire” (Come and get fire). De boy say, “Do i en e [untranslated, perhaps a retention from an African language], dimme some fan?” De worm say, “Come a little closer.” De worm say, “Time for Joe come” (Time to go home). De worm say, “Keelie o’ fire.” When de boy wen’ to get de fire so, de worm swallow him down. De boy wen’; ’e wen’ down; ’e wen’ down, till ’e met ’e brother. Now de boy father say, “My two sons gone an’ I might as well gone too.” De man take ’e lan’ (lance); it fairly glisten, it so sharp. When ’e get there where de worm was wid de fire in he mouth, de man say, “Dimme some fan?”

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The Caribbean | The Night Beauty

De worm say, “You too do fur me!” (You’re too much for me). De worm say, “Keelie o’ fire.” When de man wen’ to get de fire, so, de worm wen’ to swallow him. De man take he’ lan’; as ’e was goin’ down ’e cut de worm; ’e cut de worm till ’e cut de worm right open an’ all de people come, an’ dat was a big city right there. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

THE NIGHT BEAUTY Tradition Bearer: Unnamed twenty-year-old Haitian woman Source: Comhaire-Sylvain, Suzanne. “Creole Tales from Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 50 (1937): 215–17. Date: 1930 Original Source: Baconoir (Nippes), Haiti National Origin: African American

“The Night Beauty” is a Haitian Creole version of “The Singing Bone” (AT780). The plot is based on the spirit of a murder victim calling out for justice through a bone (as in this case), other remains, or an instrument made from the victim’s body (see “Under the Green Old Oak Tree,” p. 283, for a variant from the Anglo-phonic West Indies). The type is found in poetic as well as prose versions.

N

ow there was a girl. She was so pretty that they called her the Night Beauty. Brothers and sisters, all of them were jealous, they would have liked her to die but nobody knew it. They shut the lady in the house all day long: “You get sick easily; better to work double in the field than to sit up with somebody with fever.”

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When there was a dance or a wake in the neighbourhood, those people went on: “But look at the face of the person who would like to go out! The part under your eyes is blackish. Either Mayotte or Sonson will stay with you. Don’t cry, we will tell you all that happens.” Well! One day when she was sitting very quietly, her elbow on the window, gazing at the frolics of the butterflies, the King’s child happened to pass nearby. What a pretty girl! His heart jumped. He came again in the afternoon, he entered the house, he spoke with the people. The next day he did the same, he could not go away; he lingered in the house of these people. This love was a wonderful love! He sent to the Night Beauty a bouquet of flowers as high as this [gesture to show the height], made only of roses. Now the eldest brother, the most jealous one, waited till his mother had gone with all the children, he hurled the flowers on the ground, he stamped, he trampled upon them and strangled the girl. When he had finished, he carried the corpse very far away and after sunset he dug her grave in a cornfield. In the evening when the King’s child came, he found everybody in tears. “What has happened?” “We do not see the Night Beauty, we do not know where she is!” They searched very thoroughly, by day, by night, nothing! Three years passed away. The King’s child married another girl, but for all that he did not forget the Night Beauty. He gave some money to her people. They bought land. Now the cornfield was included in the land they had bought. One day of duty service [collective cooperative labor] they were digging to plant, a small bone leaped from a hole and fell on the road. The younger sister of Beauty was passing. Pass by, dear sister of mine, pass by. Then pass by, dear sister of mine. Pass by, dear sister of mine, pass by. Then pass by, dear sister of mine. Oh yes! the Night Beauty has been killed Because of a bunch of roses. The girl was frightened, she ran to look for her mother and her elder brother. As soon as the woman appeared, the bone took it up:

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The Caribbean | Under the Green Old Oak Tree

Pass by, dear mother of mine, pass by. Then pass by, dear mother of mine. Pass by, dear mother of mine, pass by. Then pass by, dear mother of mine. Oh yes! the Night Beauty has been killed Because of a bunch of roses! She passed by. The brother stopped for a moment. Pass by, criminal, pass by. Then pass by, criminal. Pass by, criminal, pass by. Then pass by, criminal. O yes! you have killed the Night Beauty Because of a bunch of roses! He stopped up his ears so as not to hear. He ran very far away. He went through the town like a flonde [very swift fish]; still running, he reached the country, the hills, he ran on; [another] town, he ran on, more hills. When he felt himself dying he stopped a little, then resumed his race. One day when thunder was roaring he lost himself in the woods. The mother went back home, but the thought of her daughter’s death did not leave her mind, it gnawed her continuously. It was not yet one month after the bone had sung [when] they brought the woman [mother] to the cemetery.

UNDER THE GREEN OLD OAK TREE Tradition Bearer: George W. Edwards Source: Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 62–63. Date: 1921 Original Source: Green Bay, Antigua National Origin: African American

“Under the Green Old Oak Tree” offers another variant of “The Singing Bone” (AT780) tale type discussed in the introduction to “The Night

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Beauty” (p. 281). The following version is of interest for at least two reasons. This variant is much closer to the “classic” plot; the bone is crafted into a musical instrument prior to making its accusation. Second, the current rendering bears more of the marks of oral transmission, whereas “The Night Beauty” reads like a literary reworking of this tale type.

D

is a nice little story. Der woman had two chil’ren. One was a boy, an’ der oder was a girl. De fader a dese chil’ren die. Moder decide to marry again. She marry to anoder man. Each day dese chil’ren did go to de mountain to get flowers. Dey went on dis day. Girl had a better bucket den what de broder got. Dey cumin’ wid de flowers. On his way home, de boy stop wid de gal. He t’inkin’ some evil plan. Want dis bucket which was his sister. She would not consent to gi’ him dis bucket. He t’ink it best to kill der sister. He kill de sister. He kill dis girl near to a big oak tree. An’ he hide her dere. After he kill her, he go home. Can’t give no account a he sister. Dey all went to search for de girl, but none can find her. Der broder stay home. Month gone. Shepherd-boy dat is comin’ down de mountain meet [finds] a big bone like a flute. He pick dis bone under dat same tree. He took up de bone an’ play. Comin’ home wid de flock, he play on de bone. It play a sweet tune: “My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me. My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me Under de green of oak tree, an’ den he buryth me.” Dat’s all it could play. It play sweet, you know. Comin’ home, all dat hear dis tune beg de boy for a play on it. He give dem a play. Now he way down de mountain. Mos’ to where de moder is livin’. He meet de moder. She ask him for a play. He give her a play. As quick as she play, t’ing say, “My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play. My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play.” She drop an’ faint, but never die. All de people was lookin’ for de girl. Dis broder meet de boy. He ask him for a play. Take de bone an’ start. T’ing say,

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The Caribbean | The Old Woman and Her Child

“My broder, it is you dat has killed me. My broder, it is you dat has killed me.” An’ dere he faints an’ dies. Dat is de end a da green of oak tree.

THE OLD WOMAN AND HER CHILD Tradition Bearer: Merle Woods Source: Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 303–4. Date: 1929–1930 Original Source: Nassau, Bahamas National Origin: African American

This tale, like “The Night Beauty” (p. 281) and “Under the Green Old Oak Tree” (p. 283), offers another variant of “The Singing Bone” tale type. Unlike the more common motive for murder in the usual variants of the tale (sibling rivalry), “The Old Woman and Her Child” constructs a chilling scenario of a mother testing her child’s kindness to a stranger and rewarding that kindness with death.

O

nce there was an old woman who had a little girl. One day she was sending her out with some fig. She said to the little girl: “Don’t give anybody a fig.” “All right, mama.” Then she went on her way. “Nice fig to sell.” Her mama came to her in a form of an old woman. “Do, child, give me a fig.” “Mama say that I must not give anybody a fig.” “Do give me if only five fig.” “Mama say that I must not give anybody a fig.” She give the old woman five fig and when she went home her mama asked her if she give anybody a fig.

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“Mama, I did not give anybody a fig.” She said, “I give an old woman fig.” She send the little girl out for the hatchet and lay the child neck over the butcher block and chop the child neck off and put it under the pepper tree. And when the father came home he asked for the little girl. His wife said that she send her out and her husband went to the pepper tree and begin to pick pepper. “Do, my father, don’t pull my hair for mama has kill me for one fig.” The father call his wife and asked her where is the little girl and she said: “I send she out pick on pepper.” When she pick the pepper the child said: “Do, my mama, don’t pull my hair for you has kill me for five little fig.” Then the husband send his wife for the butcher block and hatchet and chop off her head and put it in the oven and burn it. Bid bid biddy My story is end.

RESCUED FROM THE LOUPS GAROUS BY LOA SAINT JAMES Tradition Bearer: Termeus Joseph Source: Simpson, George E. “Loup Garou and Loa Tales from Northern Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 55 (1942): 222–23. Date: 1942 Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

Loup garou literally translates as “werewolf.” This term was borrowed from the French, but the concept of loup garou in African-descended Caribbean traditions typically does not entail transformation into a wolf. The Haitian version of the loup garou is a shapeshifter that is capable of removing its skin and assuming any shape necessary to accomplish its goals. In this context, Saint James is synonymous with

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The Caribbean | A Zange Disguises as a Snake

the powerful loa or lwa (supernatural figure), Ogoun. Among other attributes, Ogoun is a lwa who deals with warfare and may remove obstacles from the path of the faithful.

A

woman went to Bahon to attend the burial service of her brother. After the service she told her husband that she was going to her home in Grande Riviere. He protested, but she said that she had a good horse, and that she was not afraid to go alone. She started from Bahon about one o’clock in the morning, and after traveling a short distance she heard someone say, “Now I am going to maltreat you, as you have maltreated me.” Then she heard the voice of her brother who had been captured by the loups garous. Evil spirits took her and her brother to their camp, where the chief of the loups garous first offered them kola and cooked maize, and then passed judgment upon them. “You may kill them now,” he said. A loup garou stepped forward and thrust a knife into her brother’s neck. He fell to the ground, and when the loup garou struck him and kicked him he became a bull. They intended to kill the woman, too, but she was a faithful servant of Saint James, and he saved her from the fate of her brother.

A ZANGE DISGUISES AS A SNAKE Tradition Bearer: Bertrand Velbrun Source: Simpson, George E. “Loup Garou and Loa Tales from Northern Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 55 (1942): 224–25. Date: 1942 Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

George Eaton Simpson, in his introductory remarks to the following legend, asserts that zange is a synonym for loa (also “lwa”), a supernatural being of the Haitian vodun religion. The snake is important to vodun; for

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example, Danballah, one of the major lwa, is represented as a snake. According to another source, the zange is actually the anj (also “ange”) that returns to the “ancestral waters” (the spiritual realm or realm of ancestral spirits), and this is the meaning of “the capital of the Zanges under the water.” In this realm the zange/anj is judged in the afterlife as the judge hears the case of the peasant and the disguised zange.

E

very Friday for seven weeks a peasant saw a big snake lying at the entrance to his courtyard. The peasant was afraid to enter his yard while the snake was there. Finally he took a cane and struck the snake on its kidneys, but he did not kill it and the snake ran away. The next night the man dreamed that two soldiers came to his house and arrested him. A few minutes later he found himself in a large pond and was drowned. Within a short time he was in Ville-au-Camp, the capital of the Zanges under the water. This country seemed very mysterious to him, and he noticed that everyone was busy. He soon found himself in the courthouse where a judge sat listening to some cases. A man who seemed to be sick was sitting in one corner of the courtroom. The judge announced a decision, called the next case, and the man who seemed to be sick got up and came before the judge. He spoke these words: “Your honor, I went for seven Fridays to visit this farmer,” and he pointed to the peasant who had struck the big snake. “Last Friday he became very angry and struck me on the kidneys without cause and thus brought on my disease. I demand justice.” The judge asked the peasant to reply to this charge and the man said, “Your Honor, every Friday when I tried to enter my yard I found a very formidable snake at my gate, and I was too frightened to enter when it was there. Last Friday I was forced to defend myself, but I had no way of knowing that the big snake was a zange. Your Honor, I did not intend to commit a crime and I am sure that you will give me my freedom.” The judge called the plaintiff and said to him: “Is it true that you changed yourself into a big snake to frighten him and to stop him when he wanted to come into his house?” “Yes, Your Honor, but I was simply joking.” The judge said to him: “You are a wretched man. This farmer was right in defending himself because you are a very ugly snake. You shall be thrown in prison.” Two guards stepped up and arrested the Zange and took him away to prison.

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The Caribbean | A Loup Garou Disguises as a Beggar

Then the judge said to the peasant: “We are sorry that a very bad Zange caused you this great inconvenience. You are now free and I shall see to it that you are returned safely to your home.” The soldiers then escorted the peasant to his house. The peasant awoke, but he was still afraid.

A LOUP GAROU DISGUISES AS A BEGGAR Tradition Bearer: Ulysse Marius Source: Simpson, George E. “Loup Garou and Loa Tales from Northern Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 55 (1942): 221–22. Date: 1942 Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

The following legend opens with the familiar feature of a powerful benefactor disguised as a helpless beggar. Although the disguised beggar and his followers are called loups garous, their role in the narrative seems more like the sanpwels (literally “without skins,” due to their reputations for removing their skins before changing their physical forms). According to some sources, the sanpwels, unlike the loups garous who threaten the social order, are an organization with supernatural sanction to punish improper behavior within the community and extend its protection to the just and the kind.

S

ometimes one meets a poor man who begs along the road, but who is really the chief of the loups garous. There is such a man, who seems to be poor and sick, living in Plaisance. One evening a woman merchant from Cape Haitian told him she wished to return home that night. He told her that it was very dangerous for anyone to travel at night because the night does not belong to the living. He said: “The day is for the living, but the night is full of mysteries. However, if you wish to travel to the Cape tonight, I can give you the proper

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authorization.” He then handed her a goblet and said: “If you should meet some loups garous who ask for your authorization show them this goblet, and they will leave you alone.” The woman took the poor man’s gift and thanked him. A few hours later she started to walk to the Cape, but about ten o’clock she met five men who acted very strangely and said to her: “It is not permissible for a woman to travel alone at night. Where is your authorization?” The traveler showed them the goblet given to her by the old man. The men bowed respectfully and let her pass. Later she met a group of ten men and one of them said: “Who gave you the right to travel alone at night? I must stop you.” Another said: “Before stopping this woman we had better ask her something about her authorization.” The woman produced the goblet again and the man who had intended to stop her said: “You are a great person. You have a powerful friend.” The woman continued for some time unmolested. As she approached a crossroads she encountered a large group of at least one hundred persons who were singing. One man stopped her and said: “I must take you to the great chief. You are too bold. You should not be traveling alone at night.” The woman was conducted to the chief who wore very expensive clothes and looked like a king. He said to her, “Who gave you the right to travel alone at night? The night is not yours. You have the day and that is enough. Where is your authorization?” The woman again showed the goblet and the chief smiled and said: “Your authorization is good. You may continue your journey.” The following week the woman merchant returned to Plaisance and saw the poor man begging in the market. He said to her: “My friend, I am very glad to see you. What have you brought me from the Cape?” The woman gave him some money, some syrup, some codfish, a loaf of bread and a ring. The poor man said to her: “I see that you are a good person, that you are grateful, and I am very glad. Did you recognize me the other night?” The woman replied that she had not recognized him. “During my journey I met several groups of persons who demanded my authorization. Each time I showed them your goblet and they immediately freed me.” The beggar answered, “I was the chief before whom you were brought.”

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THE SOLOMON CYCLE Tradition Bearer: Richard Barrett Source: Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 301–3. Date: 1929–1930 Original Source: Nassau, Bahamas National Origin: African American

Tales of this type, which improvise on and extrapolate from preexisting religious narratives, may be said to constitute a “folk Bible” that accompanies the written text. The focus of the “Solomon Cycle,” in spite of its source, is about the secular rather than the sacred qualities of Solomon. The tradition bearer Richard Barrett, who also performed “Adam and Eve” (p. 231) for folklorist Zora Neale Hurston, seems to specialize such semimythic tales.


Variant A

D

o you know why Solomon said, “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity and a vexation of spirit”? Well, you see, Solomon married up thousands of women. They say them folks way back didn’t have no sense, but Solomon was the wisest man that ever lived. He had a room in that gold palace with a glass ceiling in it. Whenever one of his new wives would be brought to him, before he would see her he would sit and talk with her awhile in that room over the glass floor. If she looked to suit him, he would excuse himself and make out he had some business out in the yard. Then he would go into that room with the glass ceiling and look up at the girl sitting upstairs. Well, after he had done married hundred of girls he got a little old. He wasn’t so old in years, but he was all tired out. Then here comes the Queen of Sheba to visit him. She was very beautiful and everything, and Solomon took her right up to the room and entertained for a while. Then he went downstairs and peeped up. She was beautiful every way he looked at her, but he realized his constitution was wore away. Then Solomon took off his crown and dashed it against the wall and said: “All is vanity and a vexation of spirit.”

Variant B

W

hen the Queen of Sheba visited Solomon she fell in love with him right away, but he talked very slow. So she said to him: “King Solomon, I want something.” He said: “You can have anything you want, even to half of my kingdom. What is it you want?” She says: “I want some water to drink.” Old Solomon called a man and told him to bring her some water in a golden goblet. She said: “No, I don’t want no water out of no golden goblet. I want a drink of living water, and I don’t want no water out of no well; I don’t want no water out of no lake; I don’t want no water out of no river, nor no stream, nor no pump. But I am thirsty, I want a drink!” So Solomon called one of his men and told him to take his fastest race horse and put him on the track and to take a basin with him and to run that horse until he sweat that bowl full of sweat. After a while the man come back with the bowl of horse-sweat and Solomon put it in a golden bowl and handed it to Sheba to drink.

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The Caribbean | De Story of de Man and Six Poached Eggs

She throwed it on the ground and told him: “I heard that you was a very wise man, but you don’t know how to quench thirst.” So she went on home.

Variant C

W

hen the Queen of Sheba come to Solomon he loved her as soon as he saw her, but she acted so indifferent he didn’t know how to get up to her.

So you know he was a very wise man, so he thought up a scheme. So he told her: “Now, Queen of Sheba, you mustn’t steal nothing while you are here in my kingdom. If you do, I will punish you in any way I want to. You will have to do anything I say.” She said: “Oh no, I don’t steal.” So he give her a great banquet, and everything was salty. He didn’t have a drop of drinking water nowhere. There was a fountain out on the lawn and that was the only water to be found around the palace. After the dinner was over, Solomon run out and hid in the bushes close to the fountain and waited. Pretty soon the Queen sneaked up to the fountain and got a drink of water. Soon as she got through, Solomon rose up and said: “Unh hunk, Queen of Sheba, I told you not to steal and here you are stealing my water.” He called the servants and had her took right into the palace. She was in his power then.

DE STORY OF DE MAN AND SIX POACHED EGGS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smith, Pamela Coleman. “Two Negro Stories from Jamaica.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 278. Date: 1896 Original Source: Kingston, Jamaica National Origin: African Caribbean

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The following tale is derived from an English source, “The Witty Exploits of Mr. George Buchanan, the King’s Fool.” Buchanan, although he survives in folk narrative as a “fool” in the Elizabethan tradition, was known as a social reformer and served as a tutor to James VI of Scotland as well as an advisor. See the southern highlands tale “The King and Old George Buchanan” (p. 132) for another example.

O

nce a man go travelin’ an’ he get hungry, so he stop at a tavern an’ order somethin’ to eat, so dey bring him six poached eggs. He eat dem, but he did not have any money, so he say he would come back an’ pay. In six years—or maybe it was more—he come back an’ pay sixpence for de eggs. But den de tavern keeper say dat if he had not eaten de six poached eggs dey might have been chickens, an’ den de chickens would have grown up an’ hatch more chickens, an’ dey more—an’ more—an’ more—an’ tell de man he must pay six pounds instead of sixpence. An’ de man say he would not. So dey go to de judge. An’ while dey was conversin’ a boy come in with a bundle under his arm. An’ de judge say: “What you got in de bundle?” an’ de boy say, “Parch’peas,” say, “What you goin’ do with dem?” “Plant dem, sir!” “Hi,” say de judge, “You can’t plant parch’peas, dey won’t grow!” “Well, sir, an’ poached eggs won’t hatch!” So dey dismiss de man an’ he never pay a penny! Dis story show dat you mus’ never count you’ eggs before dey hatch!

EDUCATION FOR A CARPENTER’S SON Tradition Bearer: J. B. Cineas’ great-grandmother Source: Simpson, George E., and J. B. Cineas. “Folk Tales of Haitian Heroes.” Journal of American Folklore 54 (1941): 179. Date: 1941 Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

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The Caribbean | Dayday Agastin

Henri Christophe (1767–1820) was a Haitian military leader and statesman who participated in the Haitian Revolution of 1791 and rose to the rank of general. He eventually became president of Haiti and, on making Haiti a kingdom in 1811, ruled as Henri I. Regarded as tyrannical by his opposition, he also was noted for his dedication to education. Both qualities are combined in the following legend.

O

ne day the King [Henri Christophe] stopped at a carpenter shop in Quartier-Morin, admired the man’s work and complimented him on it. As he was about to leave he noticed a young apprentice who seemed to be indifferent about his tasks. “Who is this young boy?” “King, he is my son. I am teaching him the carpenter’s trade.” “That is very well but he is too young yet. He should be in school. If he knew how to read and write he would surpass you and become a good artisan. I have established schools. Why don’t you send this boy to school?” “King, I am not ready yet. I am preparing his clothes.” “That is not a good reason. He can go to school as he is. I shall give you eight days to put your son in school.” After the King had left the peasant said to himself, “You are King and therefore rich. I have only this boy to help me.” The following week the King returned to the carpenter shop. Surprised, the man said, “King, my little boy had malaria and the tailor has not finished his clothes.” “I shall allow you a fortnight because of the illness and the tailor,” said the King, who was boiling inwardly with anger. The carpenter said to himself, “Oh, this troublesome man! Why does he think he can make my son go to school? He should tend to his own business.” When at the end of two weeks he saw the King’s procession approaching he was terrified. With bulging eyes and broken voice he threw himself at the feet of Christophe, “King! King! The little boy...” “I understand. It is easy to see that you are an abnormal man. Your ears are not placed as other men’s are but seem to be located on your rear. It is too bad. Gentlemen, do your duty. Diable canaille!” Four men seized the obstinate carpenter and by giving him a good beating put his ears in place, and the child went to school.

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DAYDAY AGASTIN Tradition Bearer: Unnamed Informant from Sault du Baril, Haiti Source: Comhaire-Sylvain, Suzanne. “Creole Tales from Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 50 (1937): 247. Date: 1937 (collected 1930) Original Source: Haiti National Origin: African American

Overtly, the tale of “Dayday Agastin” presents a narrative on infidelity and revenge. The female protagonist is at the mercy of a persistent young stranger and a domineering husband. The fact that she gives in to the stranger’s request to sleep with her so easily may be interpreted as a comment on how lightly she takes her wedding vows. On the other hand, charms and spells are commonly framed as chants, rhymes, or songs, and the stranger’s seduction is cast in song. As a result, Dayday Agastin may be seen as an innocent victim rather than an adulteress.

T

here was a beautiful young woman who lived all alone with her husband in a small house in the mountains. There were no neighbours, only fields in this place. Now, the man went to town to arrange a land business; he told the woman he would be away three days, to be careful, and not to open the door to anybody after sunset. Nowadays people are robbers, moreover they are too pert. The man went away. He had not been away for two hours when the woman was in need of wood to light a fire. She went to her wood pile which was put away in the kitchen, the wood was used up. “What a bore for me! My husband is gone, I have nobody to cut wood for me!” She went toward the main road to see if she could find somebody to cut wood for her. She waited very long. When the sun began to go down, she saw a young man coming along the road. “Good morning, Madam!” “Do you want a small, well-paid job? Come and cut my wood.” “Where?”

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The Caribbean | Dayday Agastin

“Walk along a little with me!” The man came and accepted the work, but he had not given ten ax strokes when the trunk cracked. It fell on the foot of the man and wounded it severely. He sang: Dayday Agastin who called me Who called me to cut wood Wood has cut my foot! Oh! Dayday Agastin Give me the thing so that I may go You don’t see that the wood has cut my foot! Dayday Agastin gave him his pay so that he could go away. The man was not able to walk. He advanced the good foot, he stumbled, he advanced the wounded foot, he fell down. How it ached! The man asked her to stay for the night in the yard. “You may. Here is a mat to lie down.” The sun set, the woman ate, she gave the man broth, then she closed her door to sleep. She had hardly put her head on her pillow when the song took up: Dayday Agastin who called me Who called me to cut wood Wood has cut my foot! Oh! Dayday Agastin Give me the thing so that I may go You don’t see that the wood has cut my foot! “What is the matter with this man to complain like that? What do you want? You took your money already! Speak!” “That’s nothing, Madam, I have a shooting pain in the foot, I cannot sleep in the night dew, that is why I was singing that song.” “Put your mat inside the doorsill and shut up! I want to sleep.” He stopped a little. When he saw that the lady was asleep, he resumed: Dayday Agastin who called me Who called me to cut wood Wood has cut my foot! Oh! Dayday Agastin Give me the thing so that I may go

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You don’t see that the wood has cut my foot! “What is your purpose, Sir, did I not tell you that I wanted to sleep? What is the thing I would have to give you?” “Let me come into your bed, I will tell you which thing.” Dayday Agastin told him to come. She gave him what he wanted and the man let her sleep. Four o’clock struck, they were asleep, five o’clock, they were asleep. Now, the master of the house, the husband of Dayday Agastin, had begun to settle his business, he saw it would be too long, he entrusted it to a friend and went back to the hills the same day, so that his wife should not stay alone very long in the house: there are so many wicked people! He arrived very early in the morning. He saw the door open, he came in and saw Dayday Agastin lying in bed with a young man, he went for his gun and aimed, they were still asleep, he fired three times. Then he came back to town. He left the two dead bodies in the bed.

THE GIRL AND THE FISH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore: Fairy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 247. Date: 1891 Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

Collector Charles Edwards notes that catching the tiny fish that gather in old conch shells is a common pastime for children in the Bahamas. Martha Warren Beckwith, in her discussion of this tale type that she labels “The Fish Lover,” notes that it is common in Jamaica and distributed widely in the West Indies in her 1924 book Jamaica Anansi Stories. The theme—that violations of the natural order cannot be tolerated— is in some ways reminiscent of “The Chosen Suitor” (p. 277). This tale, of course, lacks the supernatural elements of “Suitor.”

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The Caribbean | The Girl and the Fish

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his day this girl wen’ down to de sea for salt water. She catch one little fish out de conch shell. She name ’im Choncho-wally. She put ’im in de well. Ev’ry morning she use to put some of her breakfas’ in de bucket an’ carry to de fish; an’ some of her dinner, an’ some of her supper. She feed ’im till ’e get a big fish. This mornin’, when she wen’ to carry de breakfas’ for ’im, she sing: “Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” ’E comes up an’ she feed ’im. Den she let ’im go down. When she wen’ home, de boy say, “Pa, sister got somet’in’ inside de well.” Den de nex’ day she come; bring vittles again for ’im. De man say to de boy, “You go behin’ de tree an’ listen to what she goin’ sing.” De gal sing: “Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” Huh! De boy catch it [hears her song]; ’e gone; tell ’e pa. De boy say, “Pa, sister say, ‘Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,’ etc. De man go; ’e took ’e grange [fish spear], ’e sing, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” etc. De fish come up; ’e strike ’im. ’E carry ‘im home an’ they had some for dinner. De gal say, “I bet you this nice fish!” Den de gal took some in de bucket to carry to de fish. Den when de gal wen’ to de well to call de fish, she sing, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” She sing again, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” She ain’ hear no fish, an’ she ain’ see none. She sing again,

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“Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” She begin to cry now, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wall-y Don’t you wan’ to mar-ry me, My daddy short-tail.” Den she wen’ home to de house, behin’ de house, an’ she cry ’erself to death. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

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THE SOUTH Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Owen, Mary A. “Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1890): 135–38. Date: 1890 Original Source: Missouri National Origin: African American

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n de good ole times, Ole Rabbit he wuzzen’ scrouge none by de nabuz. Hit wuz miles ter de cornder ob enny un ob ums fiel’.

Atter wiles, Mistah Injun an’ he folkses sot um up er sottlemint, but dat ain’ nuttin, kase deco Injun folks wuz alluz a-perawdin’ eroun’ an’ a-ketchin up dey plundah, an’ a-movin’ it hyeah an’ yondah. Bimeby, dough, de wite men come ’long a-choppin’ down de trees an’ a-diggin’ up de yeath. Den all de crittuz pack dey go-ter-meetin’ close in er piller-case an’ git ready ter staht, kase dey know dat Mistah Wite Man come foh ter stay, an’ he ain’ one o’ de kine dat wanter sleep free two in de bed an’ dey ain’ ne’er.


Dat is all on um cep Ole Chuffy Rabbit an’ de Squirl fambly sot out. Dey two ’low dey gwine ter tough hit out while longah. Wat pester Ole Chuffy mo’ den all de res’ wuz dat wite man’s dawg. Hit wuzzen’ lak dem Injun dawgs, dat’s a-scatterin’ roun’ de kyentry ter day an’ in de pot ter morrer. Hit wuz one o’ dem shahpnose houn’-dawgs dat hunt all day an’ howl all night. Hit wuz es still ez er fox on er tucky-hunt fum de mawnin’ twell cannel-light, but des wait twell de sun go down an’ de moon come up an’—oh Lawd! Ah, oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Heah hit go fum mos’ sun-down ter mos’ sun-up, an’ dat wuz de mos’ aggervaxines’ soun’ dat de Ole Boy e’er putt in de thote ob er libin crittur. Hit des’ stractid Ole Rabbit. He flounce roun’ in de bed lak er cat-fish on de hook. He groan an’ he grunt, an’ he tuhn an’ be roll, an’ he des kyarn’ git no good res’. He bin un o’ de smoove torkin’ kine gin’ly, but dat houn’ mek ’im cuss twell ole Miss Rabbit she bleege ter roll de bed-kivuz roun’ huh yeahs, she dat scannelize. “Wy doan’ yo’ git outen de baid an’ tuhn yo’ shoe wid de bottom-side up an’ set yo’ bar foot onter hit?” she say. “Dat mek enny dawg stop he yowlin’.” “Well! Ain’ I done hit forty-leben time?” say Ole Man Rabbit des a-fumin’ an’ a-snortin’. “Ain’ I bin a-hoppin’ in an’ out de baid all de lib-long night? Cose hit stop um foh er half er jiff an’ den hit chune up ergin ’foh I des kin git de baid wahm unner me.” Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, ow! Ah oo-oo-oo, wow, ow, OW! Dat ole houn’ fetch er yowl dat far mek de man in de moon blink. “Cuss dat ole dawg! Cuss um say I! Wy doan’ dat ole fool dat own um stuff er cawn-cob down he frote, ur chop um inter sassige-meat?” sez Ole Rabbit, sez ’e. “I gin up on de sleepin’ queschun ter night,” sez ’e, “but I lay I ain’ ’sturb lak dis in my res’ termorrer,” sez ’e. Wid dat he bounce out on de flo’ an’ haul on he britches an’ light ’er tollerdip; an’ he tek dat toller-dip in he han’ an’ he go pokin’ roun’ mungs de shadders lak he a-huntin’ foh sumpin’. Scratch, scratch! scuffle, scuffle! he go in de cornderz ob de cubbered. Ah oo-oo-oo! wow, ow, ow! go de houn’ outside. Scratch, scratch! scuffle, scuffle! Ah oo-oo-oo! wow, ow, ow! Scratch, scratch! scuffle, scuffle! Ah oo-oo-oo! wow, ow, ow! An’ so dey keep hit up, twell ole Miss Rabbit des ez mad at one ez turr. “Wot is yo’ doin’, Mistah Rabbit?” she say agin an’ ’gin; but Ole Chuff ain’ satify ’er bout dat. Treckly, dough, wen he git thu an’ blow out de cannel an’ de day gunter broke, she bin nodiss dat he step sorter lop-side. “Wat is de mattah, Mistah

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Appendix: Original Versions | The South

Rabbit?” she ax. “Is yo’ run er brier inter yo’ foot?” “No,” sez ’e, mighty shawt, “I ain’ got no brier in my foot dat I knows un, but I gotter brier in my mine ’bout de size ob er snipe-bill, of I ain’ mistookened.” At dat she let fly er swam o’ queschins, but he des grin dry an’ say— “Ax me no queschins an’ I tell yo’ no lies. Doan’ bodder me, ole ooman (old woman, wife). I ain’ feel berry strong in de haid dis mawnin’, an’ I mought hatter anser queschins wid my fist of I gits pestered.” Dat shet ’er up, in cose, an’ she sot in ter gittin’ brekfus. Putty soon she holler out, “Who bin techin’ de braid? Somebody bin a-cuttin’ de braid! I lay I gotter trounce deco greedy chilluns foh dat. Pear lak I kyarn’ set down nuttin’ dese days but dey gotter muss in hit! I gwine ter cut me er big hick’ry lim’ dis mawnin’ an’ see of I kyarn’ lick some mannuz inter de whole kit an’ bilin’ un um! In de meanwiles o’ gittin’ dat lim’ I gwine ter smack de jaws ob de whole crowd.” “No yo’ ain’,” sez Ole Rabbit, sez ’e. “Des lef dem young uns o’ mine ’lone. Dey ain’ done nuttin. I cut dat braid, an’ I got dat braid, an’ I ain’ gwine ter gin ’er up.” Putty soon ole Miss Rabbit sing out ergin. “Who bin cuttin’ de bakin (bacon) fat?” sez she, “an’ cuttin’ hit crookid too,” sez she. “I lay I des leaf de brekfus an’ set out ’n’ git dat lim’ right now,” sez she. “No, yo’ woan’,” sez Ole Rabbit, sez ’e. “I ain’ gwine ter hab de sense w’ale outen dem young uns o’ mine. I tuck dat fat an’ I got dat fat, an’ of I haggle de slice dat my look out,” sez ’e. “I paid foh hit, an’ I gwine ter cut hit wid de saw ur de scissuz, of I feel lak hit,” sez ’e. Wid dat he git up an’ walk off, lim-petty-limp. Miss Rabbit ain’ see no mo’ un ’im twell sundown. Den he come in lookin’ mighty tuckahd out, but des a-grinnin’ lak er bake skunk. He sot down he did, an’ et lak he bin holler clar to he toes, but he woan’ say nuttin. Wen he git thu he sorter stretch hissef an’ say, “I gwine ter go ter baid. I gotter heap o’ sleep ter mek up, an’ I lay no dawg ain’ gwine ter ’sturb my res’ dis night.” An’ dey doan’. Dey wuzzen’ er soun’, an’ Miss Rabbit mek er gret miration at dat in huh min’, but she ain’ got nobody ter tork hit unter twell de nex’ mawnin’, wen Ole Rabbit git up ez gay an’ sassy ez er yeahlin’. Den ’e hab de big tale ter tell, an’ dis wuz wut he tell ’er: Wen he wuz a-foolin’ in de cubberd he git ’im er piece o’ braid, an’ he tie dat on he foot. Den he cut ’im er slice o’ bakin, an’ he putt dat on top de braid. Den he slip on he shoe an’ he staht out. Dat he do kase he gwine ter fix ’im some shoe-braid foh feed ter dat dawg, kase of yo’ wah braid in yo’ shoe an’ den gin hit unter er dawg, an he eat hit, dat dawg yo’n. He gwine ter foller yo’ ter de eens o’ de yeath, dat he am. De bakin he put on ter gin dat braid er good tase, an’ ter fool de folks wut see ’im, kase he gwineter let on lak he run er brier in he

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foot an’ tuck ’n’ putt on dat bakin foh ter dror out de so’ness an’ kip ’im fum agettin’ de lock-jaw. Well, he tromp roun’ twell de wite man go ter de fiel’, an’ den he sorter slip up easy-like, an’ he fling dat shoe-braid afront o’ dat Ole houn’-dawg. Hit gulf hit down in des one swaller. Yo’ know dem houn’-dawgs des alluz bin hongry sence de minnit dey wuz bawn, an’ yo’ kyarn’ fill um up no mo’ ’n of dey got holes in um de same ez er cullendah. De minnit dat shoe-braid bin swaller, dat Ole houn’-dawg des natchelly hone atter Ole Rabbit. He tuck out atter ’im thu’ de bresh so swif’ dat hit sorter skeer Ole Chuffy. He was des a-studyin’ ’bout a-leadin’ dat houn’ ter de crik, an’ a-tyin’ a rock roun’ he neck an’ a-drowndin’ um, but dis hyeah turrible hurry ’sprize ’im so dat he des run lak de Ole Boy wuz a-tryin’ ter ketch ’im. Hyeah dey had hit! Up hill an’ down holler, crost de fiel’ an’ roun’ de stump, obah an’ undah, roun’ an’ roun’, ketch of yo’ kin an’ foller of yo’ kyarn’. O suz, dat wuz er race! No tellin’ how hit mought er come out of Ole Rab hedn’ run crost an Injun man wid er bow an’ arrer. De Injun gun ter fit de arrer ter de string foh ter shoot dat Chuffy Rabbit, wen he holler out loud ez he c’d holler foh de shawtness ob he bref— “Oh! hole on, Mistah Injun Man, hole on er minnit. I’m a-fetchin’ yo’ er present,” sez ’e, “er mighty nice present,” sez ’e. “Wut yo’ fetch?” sez de Injun Man, kine o’ spishis-lak. “Hit’s er dawg,” sez Ole Rabbit, a-wuhkin he yeahs an’ a-flinchin’ he nose, kase he hyeah dat dawg a-cracklin’ thu’ de bresh, “a mighty nice fat dawg, Mistah Injun Man. I hyeah tell dat yo’ ole ooman wuz po’ly, an’ I wuz a-brungin’ dis hyeah houn’-dawg sost yo’ c’d mek er stchew outen um,” sez ’e. “I’d a-fotch um ready cook,” sez ’e, “but my ole ooman des nowurz ’long o’ yo’n in de mekin’ o’ stchews,” sez ’e. “I wuz foh fetchin’ er string o’ inguns foh seas’nin an’ den I doan’ know of yo’ lak um wid inguns,” sez ’e. De Injun suttinly wuz tickle wid dat lallygag, but he doan’ say much. He des sorter grunt an’ look todes de bresh. “Dat um! dat my houn’-dawg a-comin’!” say Ole Rabbit a-flinchin’ mo’ an’ mo’ ez de cracklin’ come a-nighah. “Yo’ bettah shoot um, des ez ’e bonce outen de bresh, kase dat er mon’sus shy dawg, mon’sus shy! He woan’ foller nobody but me, an’ I kyarn’ go ’long home wid yo’ an’ tek um, kase Ise lame. Las’ night I c’d’n sleep my lef’ ban’ hine foot huht so, an’ now I got um tie up in bakin fat. Shoot um right hyeah, Mistah Injun! Dat de bes’ an’ de safes’, mon!” Des dat minnit out jump de dawg, an’—zim!—Mistah Injun des shoot um an’ pin um to de groun’.

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Den Ole Man Rabbit mop de sweat offen he face an’ lope off home, leas’ dat de tale he tell de fambly, an’ of tain’ true nobody ain’ a-’nyin’ hit dese days, an’ ez he say ter he ole ooman, bit er good laughin’ tale ter day, but twuz mon’sus solemncholly yistiddy. Sence dat time all de houn’-dawgs is sholy cunjer, kase of dey kech er gimpse ob er rabbit tail out dey putt atter hit.

Allen Chesser’s Initiation: The Bear Fight Tradition Bearer: Allen Chesser Source: Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 409–10. Date: ca. 1914 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: European American

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ow I’ll tell yet erbout that Bear fight, of yer’ll git yer book. “I must tell yet how come we come ter go. I wuz a boy, I reckon ten er twelve yurs old, an’ the other boys ’uz older. I ’uz off with muh bow an’ arrer some’eres, an’ they went off an’ lef’ me; tuk the gun an’ the dogs. “They lef’ one gun, an’ hit wuz an of flint-an’-steel. As true a shootin’ gun as I ever shot, too. I taken that gun, an’ went ter Hurst Islant. Wal, when I walked out on the islant, I didn’t haf ter look, there wuz the Bear right there. An’ I, yet know, could ’a’ killed with all ease ef I had a mind ter—ef I’d had the sense I have now—but I thought I had ter be right close on ter ’im. “An’ while I wuz a-slippin’ ter git close-ter ter ’im, he jumped up a tree. He went erbout two jumps up the tree (I could hear ’is paws hit the tree), an’ slung ’is haid off on each side, thisaway an’ thataway, an’ then ’e come down. He tuk ’is time, an’ went noselin’ erbout, feedin’ on pa’meeter buds. An’ ’e drifted off in the bay, an’ me erlong after ’im, tryin’ ter git a chance ter shoot. Pokin’ erlong an’ feedin’ erlong. As fur as he went, I went. An’ I got, I reckon, in erbout ten steps er ’im. Lost all muh good chances ter kill ’im out on the islant, an’ had ’im there in that bay. I couldn’t see nothin’ er ’im but ’is haid. When I decided ter shoot (I got a notion ter shoot then), I aimed through the bushes ter strike ’is body, an’ I shot. Uv cose, them kind er ball is easy turned. An’ uv cose I missed ’im clair—never teched ’im. So I stood still, an’ so did the Bear. An’ ’e stood there, I reckon, somep’n like a quarter er a minute, somep’n like a few breaths. An’ ’e commenced grumblin’, growlin’; I could hear ’im jest as plain, in ’is

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manner. An’ the notion struck me, I had better git out er that bay. So I went, an’ I went in a hurry, too. I didn’t look fer a Bear er nothin’, only fer a way ter git out er that bay, quick. I got out ter the islant. The islant wuz burnt off, an’ the grass ’uz only erbout that high [stretching out his hand a foot above the ground]; looked prooty an’ green. So I went out erbout, I reckon, seventy-five yards on the islant. The notion struck me I better load muh gun. An’ I sot muh gun down jest like that [butt touching the ground, barrel at a slant], an’ I wuz a-pourin’ muh charge er powder in. An’ I raised muh haid an’ looked back ter see of I could see any-thing er the Bear; an’ shore enough he come right on muh trail. So I pulled out muh knife an’ opened it, an’ stuck it in the ground right down beside me, so of I come in close contact, I’d have a chance ter use it. So I kep’ on loadin’ then jest as fast as I could (kep’ the balls aroun’ loose in muh pocket), an’ a-lookin’ fer the Bear, an’ he kep’ a-comin’, too. “So there ’uz an ol’ log that had fell, lyin’ jest like that, an’ ’e come ter the top er the log (some of rotten limbs), an’ he ’uz a-gnawin’ on them limbs, poppin’ the limbs an’ throwin’ the bark off’n ’em.” “Wha’d he do that for?” I ventured to ask. “He ’uz mad. He walked jest like a billy goat (you’ve seen ’em when they’re mad—feel bigitty), an’ ’e had ’is yurs hugged right close ter ’is haid, jest thataway, an’ I wuz settin’ erbout four er five steps frum the stump er that tree. An’ ’e got through gnawin’ there (at the other end er the log). He raised ’is haid up, jest looked right at me, jest as straight as he could do it. An’ ’e grinned. An’ I could see ’is teeth a-shinin’, jest as prooty an’ white. Didn’t open ’is mouth, jest there with ’is yurs laid back. “He started ter walk then, right aside er the log, till ’e got ter the stump. An’ then ’e put in ter gnaw on it, jest like ’e had on the top, an’ jest like ’e’d be gnawin’ on me in a minute, I thought, an’ me a-loadin’ all that time. I ’uz erbout done loadin’ then. I’d turned the gun down then ter put the primin’ in the pan. Wal, I ’uz down on muh knees. I jest squatted down thataway. I tuk delib’rate aim at ’im, too, an’ shot. I knowed it had ter be a dead shot, er me ketched one er nuther. Spang said the rifle, an’ at the crack er the gun the Bear dashed. An’ I riz an’ tuk right after ’im. Now there wuz a chase, shore as you’re livin’. Wal, it ’uz erbout a hunderd yards, I reckon, ter the swamp on the other side. I made a brave run that far. I thought I’d see ’im fall any minute, an’ I wanted ter see that sight. “So when ’e landed inter the bushes, I stopped. I reckon I ’uz erbout thirty steps behind ’im. The next thing occurred ter my mind ’uz ter git out er that place. So I went an’ got muh knife an’ muh gun-stick. An’ I had a bay, I reckon, erbout three-quarters uv a mile through, an’ the water erbout up ter hyere [indicating his waist-line] on me. So yer better know I ’uz makin’ all the railroad time I could.

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“Now all this [that follows] is imagination, I know it wuzn’t so, but I’m goin’ ter tell yer. I could hear that Bear come a-sousin’ right in behind me. “So that’s erbout all uv it. I come back home. That’s jest erbout how near I come ter gittin’ Bear-ketched. The next stump he’d ’a’ gnawed on, I reckon ’u’d a’ ben me. “I’ve had lots uv contests with Bears an’ Alligators an’ things, but that’s erbout as near as I ever come ter gittin’ Bear-ketched. “It tuk me frum erbout one o’clock in the day ter erbout sundown. “When the Bear ’uz up that tree, it ’uz only erbout sixty yards; I could ’a’ broke a ten-cent piece on ’im—a dollar anyhow. Them kind er guns shore shot true. “That ’uz my initiation, an’ it ’uz a prooty bad un, too. Like George Stokes said that time he got ketched in the storm, with the timber fallin’ all erbout ’im, I wouldn’t ’a’ given ten cents fer muh chances.”

Mr. Deer’s My Riding Horse Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Johnston, Mrs. William Preston. “Two Negro Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 196–98. Date: 1896 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: African American

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ow, children, I’m tired tellin’ you every even’ ’bout Mr. Rabbit and the Tar-Baby over and over agin; I’ll see of I can’t ’member a story Mammy used ter tell ’bout “Mr. Deer’s my riding horse.” Well, onct upon a time, when Mr. Rabbit was young and frisky, he went a courting Miss Fox, who lived way far back in the thick woods. Mr. Fox an’ his family was very skeery, an’ they very seldom come outer the wood ’cep’ for a little walk in the clearin’ near the big house, sometimes when the moon shine bright; so they did n’ know many people ’sides Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Deer. Mr. Deer he had his eyes set on Miss Fox, too. But he din’ suspicion Mr. Rabbit was a lookin’ that way, but kep’ on being jus’ as frenly with Mr. Rabbit as he ever been. One day Mr. Rabbit call on Miss Fox, and wile they was tawkin, Miss Fox she tells him what a fine gentleman she thinks Mr. Deer is. Mr. Rabbit jes threw back his head and he laf and he laf.

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“What you laffin ’bout?” Miss Fox says; and Mr. Rabbit he jes laf on an’ wone tell her, an’ Miss Fox she jes kep’ on pestering Mr. Rabbit to tell her what he’s laffin ’bout, an’ at las’ Mr. Rabbit stop laffin an’ say, “Miss Fox, you bear me witness I did n’ want to tell you, but you jes made me. Miss Fox, you call Mr. Deer a fine gentleman; Miss Fox, Mr. Deer is my riding horse!” Miss Fox she nearly fell over in a faintin’ fit, and she say she done bleve it, and she will not till Mr. Rabbit give her the proof. An’ Mr. Rabbit he says, “Will you bleve it of you sees me riding pass yo’ do’?” and Miss Fox says she will, and she wone have nothin’ to do with Mr. Deer if the story is true. Now, Mr. Rabbit is ben fixing up a plan for some time to git Mr. Deer outer his way; so he says good even’ to Miss Fox, and clips it off to Mr. Deer’s house, and Mr. Rabbit he so frenly with Mr. Deer he done suspec’ nothin’. Presently Mr. Rabbit jes fall over double in his cheer and groan and moan, and Mr. Deer he says, “What’s the matter, Mr. Rabbit, is you sick?” But Mr. Rabbit he jes groan; then Mr. Rabbit fall off the cheer and roll on the floor, and Mr. Deer says, “What ails you, Mr. Rabbit, is you sick?” And Mr. Rabbit he jes groans out, “Oh, Mr. Deer, I’m dying; take me home, take me home.” An’ Mr. Deer he’s mighty kinehearted, and he says, “Get up on my back, and I’ll tote you home”; but Mr. Rabbit says, “Oh, Mr. Deer, I’m so sick, I can’t set on your back ’less you put a saddle on.” So Mr. Deer put on a saddle. Mr. Rabbit says, “I can’t steady myself ’less you put my feets in the stirrups.” So he put his feets in the stirrups. “Oh, Mr. Deer, I can’t hold on ’less you put on a bridle.” So he put on a bridle. “Oh, Mr. Deer, I done feel all right ’less I had a whip in my hand.” So Mr. Deer puts the whip in his hand. “Now I’m ready, Mr. Deer,” says Mr. Rabbit, “but go mighty easy, for I’m likely to die any minute. Please take the short cut through the wood, Mr. Deer, so I kin get home soon.” So Mr. Deer took the short cut, an’ forgot that it took him pass Miss Fox’s house. Jes’ as he ’membered it, an’ was ’bout to turn back, Mr. Rabbit, who had slipped a pair of spurs on unbeknownst to him, stuck ’em into his sides, and at the same time laid the whip on so that po’ Mr. Deer was crazy with the pain, and ran as fas’ as his legs could carry him right by where Miss Fox was standin’ on the gallery, and Mr. Rabbit a standin’ up in his stirrups and hollerin’, “Didn’t I tell you Mr. Deer was my riding horse!” But after a while Miss Fox she found out ’bout Mr. Rabbit’s trick on Mr. Deer, and she wouldn’t have nothin’ more to do with him.

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Incriminating the Other Fellow Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 366–67. Date: 1919 Original Source: South Carolina National Origin: African American

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iss Kingdeer of Coon Swamp had two da’ghters, and Brer Wolf and Brer Rabbit was in love with the young Miss Kingdeer. Young Miss Kingdeer ’lowed she loved Brer Rabbit better than she did Brer Wolf. Brer Wolf he got jealous, and say he’s goin’ to git even with Brer Rabbit by killing Miss Kingdeer’s goat, ’kase she say anybody who’d kill that goat, her father would horn ’im. So Brer Rabbit and Brer Wolf went to call on Miss Kingdeer; and when dey was gwine back home, Brer Wolf said to Brer Rabbit, “Ye must ’scuse me for not going home all de way wid you, ’kase I promised to call on Brer ’Possum wife, who is mighty sick.” Brer Rabbit ’lowed, “I’d go along wid you, but I’m mighty feeble myself to-night.” So Brer Wolf left Brer Rabbit, an’ went back in the field an’ kill Miss Kingdeer’s goat. Next day he went callin’ on Miss Kingdeer to see what dey’d say, like he know nothin’ about it. “Goodmornin’, Miss Kingdeer!” says Brer Wolf, “how’s your ma?”—“She’s between de gate-posts an’ de hinges dis mornin’, Brer Wolf, how is you?”—“Well, I’m kinder hucckumso.”—“Brer Wolf, has you hearn about our goat? Someone killed her last night.” Brer Wolf he made out he’s so ’stonished. “Miss Kingdeer, I think I know who killed dat dere goat, nobody but Brer Rabbit, ’kase I saw him preamblin’ a-cross de field after he left de house last night!” Miss Kingdeer is very sorry ’cause she loved Brer Rabbit an’ didn’t want Brer Rabbit killed. “I don’t t’ink he’d do dat, ’kase he done loved dat goat,” says she. “Well, I’d make him tell you himself dat he killed dat goat.” An’ he went, an’ he went ’round to Brer Rabbit’s house. “Mornin’, Brer Rabbit! how is you today?”—“Kinder po’ly, Brer Wolf, kinder po’ly. How’s you?”—“Well, I’m between de hawk an’ de break-down, ain’t much myself today. Brer Rabbit, I got a scheme on foot; I thought we’d serenade de girls to-night. I done told dem what a good bass-singer you is; we’ll practise de song. I’ll play de fiddle, and den we’ll go under de window an’ sing, an’ den de ladies ’ll come out an’ invite us in!” Brer Rabbit agreed, an’ same

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night dey went up to Miss Kingdeer’s house an’ stood under de window. Brer Numphit (Wolf) chumin de fiddle—plum, plum, plum! chan, chan, chan! Brer Rab—bit is a trick—y man, and ev—ery—bod—y know. Did you kill Miss King—deer’s goat and ev—ery—bod—y know? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and ev—ery—bod—y know. Chorus. Rio Brer Rab—bit, Pop—eyed rab—bit, Buck—eye rab—bit, “Ladies,” said Brer Wolf, “I told you Brer Rabbit killed Miss Kingdeer’s goat, ’kase he done tell you.” Den Brer Rabbit threw up his hands, an’ said, “Brer Numphy got this game up on me, ’kase he’s jealous!” Miss Kingdeer says she didn’t believe Brer Rabbit killed de goat, and Brer Wolf is de fox dat is de finder, an’ he’s done killed dat goat, an’ she called for her pa. Den Brer Numphit licked out an’ tore down de road at such a rate, you couldn’t see him running for de sand. Miss Kingdeer an’ Brer Rabbit got so tickled, dey had to hold deir sides to keep from poppin’. Brer Wolf is runnin’ yet from Kingdeer.

Where Did Adam Hide? Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 371–72. Date: 1919 Original Source: Georgia National Origin: African American

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e preacher went out to see an ol’ woman who lived out so far, never did get to chu’ch. Asked if she heard ’bout Jesus, ’bout how he died. “Is he dead? I didn’ know he was dead. You wouldn’ know yourself, bein’ back here in de woods. An’ I don’ take de paper.” De preacher said he would come next week to catechize um. Nex’ week sent de ol’ man to de store to buy molasses. Adam took the money and bought some liquor. Sent de boy to de neighbor, Sister Clarinda, to borrow some ’lasses. Sister

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Clarindy did have but a cupful, so she let her have dat. Made de molasses pone. Adam came in drunk. She put him under de bed. Tol’ him to stay dere. Didn’t want de preacher to see him. So after dinner de preacher got his catechism out an’ ask some questions. “De Lord made Adam fustes’, den he made Eve lastes’. Put um togeder. One day de Lord came an’ called, ‘Adam!’ He called again, ‘O Adam!’ De Lord got mad, an’ hollered, ‘You Adam!’ Now, where did Adam hide when de Lord call um?” De ol’ woman said, “Some-body been tellin’ you somet’in’.” “Now, my sister, dis is de catechizum.” “Ain’t somebody been tellin’ you somet’in’?” “I don’ know, my sister. Dis here was de catechizum. Adam was in de gyarden. Adam hide. Now, I’m askin’ you dis question, Where did Adam hide when de Lord call?” De ol’ woman put her head under de bed an’ call, “You, Adam, come f’om under dat bed! Come on out! De preacher done know all ’bout ’um. You come out dah!”

The Chosen Suitor: The Forbidden Room Tradition Bearer: Julius Jenkins Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. Pages 47–48 in Folk-Lore of the Sea Islands, South Carolina. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 16. New York: American Folklore Society, 1923. Date: 1923 Original Source: South Carolina National Origin: African American

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s a boy name John. An’ he had a sister. An’ dis king was payin’ dis boy sister address. Dis little boy was a witch, could tell whe’ his sister goin’ to get a good husban’ o’ not. So when dis man come, his sister always put dis boy underneat’ de step, an’ put him to bed. So den dis little boy wake up an’ tell his sister, “Sister, you married to de Debil.” Sister slap him aroun’ an’ kick him, wouldn’ listen de boy. So, sure enough, he [she] married de man against de boy. Man kyarry his sister from dere an’ kyarry him to his house, little over t’irty or forty miles. So, after kyarrin’ dis woman summuch nights an’ summuch days, dis boy know exaxly how dis man was treatin’ his sister. One day de man han’ his wife sewen key. An’ he had sewen room in de house. But he show him [her] de room, an’ say, “Use de six room; but de seven room don’ use it, don’ go in dat room!” So one day his wife say to heself, “I got all de key. I wan’ to see what is in dat room.” He husban’ been ’bout twenty-five mile from dere

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when he [she] said dat. He [she] wen’ into de room, open de room. When he open de room, was nothin’ but de wife dis man married, de skeleton hung up in de room. Dis one fall down, faint, right to de do’. Less dan half an hour he come to his sense. He lock de do’ back. Gone, set down. Husban’ drive up to de do’ at de time, an’ tell um, “Dis night you will be in dat room.” Forty mile from his [her] broder den. So his broder know dat his sister have a fas’ horse. An’ he took sewen needle wid him. He started fo’ his sister den. He ritched his sister’s place ’bout fo’ o’clock. Sister was to put to deat’ at fus’ dark. When he see dat his broder-in-law come, he welcome him like any broder-in-law do, like not’in’ goin’ to be done. Dis king ask him what his horse eat? He tol’ him, “I feed my horse wid cotton-seed.” Dis king den had to go half a mile from dis house to his nex’ neighbor to get cotton-seed for his broder-in-law horse. When he gone, he tell his sister, “Sister, take not’in’, jump in de buggy!” Dey had fo’ty miles to go. When he get a half a mile from de house, he han’ his sister dese sewen needle. He said, “Sister, he done hitch up his horse, he comin’ after us.” Drop one o’ de needle, an’ it become a swamp across de road. De king drive until he come to de swamp. He had to tu’n back home an’ get a grubbin’-hoe an’ axe to cut t’rough dere. All dat time John was goin’ wid his sister. De king was a witch himself. He cut um so quick, he was on dem again. He [she] drop anoder needle. Den it become a ocean across de road. He had to sup up all dat water befo’ he could star’ again. When dey was one mile of John house where his sister live, he tell his sister t’row all de needle out his han’. Dey become an ocean. Dey cross de oder side den. He drive down here. When he get to de ocean, he had to stop, couldn’ get any furder. John an’ his sister ’rive his ol’ cabin whey de king kyarry him [her] from. An’ dis sister gave de broder what he [she] used to kick about lovin’ praise. An’ John save his sister life.

La Graisse [The Grease Girl] Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fortier, Alcee. “Louisianian Nursery-Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 140–42. Date: 1888 Original Source: Louisiana National Origin: French American

Y

avé eune madame ki té gagnin cate filles. Yé té si joli, ké tout moune té oulé marié aver yé. Yé té pelé yé: La Graisse, Dépomme, Banane, et Pacane. La Graisse té pli joli, mais lé to jamin sorti dans soleil pasqué yé

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Appendix: Original Versions | The Caribbean

té pér lé va fonne. La Graisse to sorti tou les jou dans eune bel carosse en or. Fi léroi té oua li tou les jou, mais La Graisse té si joli et carosse li té si apé brillé ké so zié té fait li mal; li té gagnin pou frotté yé pou oua clair. Fi léroi té limmin La Graisse: li couri chez moman la pou mandé li pou marié avec La Graisse, mais moman la ki té connin La Graisse té pli joli, lé té oulé marié les otes avant. Li pé1é Dépomme: “Dépomme oh! orimomo, orimomo!” Dépomme vini, mais michié la gardé li ben, li dit c’est pas cila là mo oulé, li sré gaté trop vite. Moman pélé: “Banane oh! orimomo, orimomo!” Banane vini, Michié té pas oulé, li dit la connin pourri trop vite. Moman pélé: “Pacane oh! orimomo, orimomo.” Pacane vini. Michié dit pacane va vini rance. Enfin moman pélé La Graisse: “La Graisse oh! orimomo, orimomo.” La Graisse vini. Sito li oua La Graisse, li prend li et ménin li dans so bel la maison, et li marié li. Fi léroi té couri la chasse tou les jou: pendant li té pas la, domestiques té fait la Graisse tout plein la misère. Li té pér dit so mari, et li té fait tout ça yé oulé. Eune jou kisinière la dit, li vé pas fait dinin. I faut La Graisse fait li. Pauvre La Graisse li crié, li crié, mais yé forcé li pour resté coté di fé: mais li tapé fonne fonne. A la fin yavé pli qué La Graisse partout, la kisine la té tout plein. Piti zozo La Graisse oua ça, li trempé so zaile dans La Graisse. Li volé dans bois coté michié la, si batte so zaile dans so figuire. Michié la oua La Graisse ki té on so zaile, li pensé so chère La Graisse, li galopé chez li, li trouvé so femme tout fonne par terre. Li té si chagrin, li ramassé tout La Graisse, et metté li dans vie baignoire, et quand La Graisse la vini fret, li to eune femme encor. Mais li té jamin si jolie com avant, pasqué la terre té mé1é avé li, et li té tout jaune et sale. So mari té pli limmin li et renvoyé li coté so moman.

THE CARIBBEAN B’ Helephant and B’ V’wale (Brother Elephant and Brother Whale) Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. Page 65 in Bahama Songs and Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 3. New York: American Folklore Society, 1895. Date: 1895

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Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

O


Now dis day B’ Rabby vwas walkin’ ’long de shore. ’E see B’ V’wale. ’E say, “B’ V’wale!” B’ V’wale say, “Hey!” B’ Rabby, “B’ V’wale, I bet I could pull you on de shore!” B’ V’wale, “You cahnt!” B’ Rabby say, “I bet you tree t’ousan’ dollar!” Vw’ale say, “Hall right!” ’e gone. ’E meet B’ Helephant. ’E say, “B’ Helephant,” ’e say, “I bet I could pull you in de sea!” B’ Helephant say, “Me!” ’e “Dey ain’t ary man in de worl’ can pull me in de sea!” B’ Rabby, “I’ll try it to-morrow at twelve o’clock.” ’E gone an’ get a heap o’ rope. ’E say, “Now to-day we’ll try.” ’E tie one rope aroun’ B’ V’wale’s neck, and den ’e tie one aroun’ B’ Helephant’s neck. ’E say, “Vw’en you hear me say, ‘set taut,’ you mus’ set taut.” ’E say, “Pull avay!” Vw’en B’ V’wale pull, ’e pull B’ Helephant in de surf o’ de sea. ’E say, “You t’ink dis little B’ Rabby doin’ all o’ dat!” W’en B’ Helephant pull ’t, ’e pull B’ V’wale in de surf o’ de sea. B’ V’wale ketch underneath one shelf o’ de rock, and B’ Helephant ketch to one big tree. Den de two on ’em pull so heavy de rope broke. B’ V’wale went in de ocean and B’ Helephant vwen’ vay over in pine-yard. Das v’y you see B’ V’wale in de ocean to-day, and das v’y you see B’ Helephant over in de pine bushes to-day. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Hax my captain an’ my crew.

The Origin of Woman Tradition Bearer: Harry Murray Source: Bates, William C. “Creole Folk-Lore from Jamaica II: Nancy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 124–25. Date: 1896

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Original Source: Jamaica National Origin: African American

A

discussion arose between black Lizzie and her husband upon the origin of man. Harry laid it down for an axiom that he was made from the dust of the earth, because the minister said so. “I mek out o’ dust fe’ sartin.” To him, according to the story, Lizzie replies: “Me no mek out o’ none dirt.” Then Harry: “Ef you don’ mek out o’ dirt, wha’ you mek out o’? You mek out o’ dirt, yes!” “I don’t mek out o’ notin’ o’ de kin’.” “Den wha’ you mek out o’? You mus’ mek out o’ some goolin’ (golden) ting or noder, den?” “I don’ mek out o’ no goolin’ ting, an’ I don’ mek out o’ none dirt. I mek out o’ bone.” “Mek out o’ wha’?” “Bone!” “Bone?” “Yes, bone to be sho’.” “Wha’ kin’ o’ bone?” “Rib’s bone! You na hea’ minista’ say so?” “Well, I don’ know wha’ fe’ say ’bout dat; I don’ like fe’ say dat wha’ minista’ say not de trut’; but I mean fe’ say, when minista’ read ’bout dat rib’s bone, him must mean buckra ooman [white woman], becasin so dem white, so de bone white. Ef you mek de same, you’ ’kin would a ben white.” “Cho,” said Lizzie, “ef you ben open you’ ears, ’tidda da sleep, you would a hea’ de minsta’ say de ’kin notin’, but de blood, da de ting, becasin in de book say, dat white-o, brown-o, black-o, all mek de same blood; you eba’ see white blood an’ black blood?” “Look you,” said Harry, “It you know how me uncle Jame use fe’ to say ooman came in dis worl’?” “Cho, no boda’ me.” “Neba’ min’, I da go tell you. Dem mek two men; de fuss one mek berry well, but when dem mek de oder one, it kinda’ ’poil. Den as dem look upon it, so it da jump about, and shake him head, and do all kin’ o’ ’tupid ting, like a how ooman hab fe’ go on. Den one o’ dem hol’ him, say, ‘Wha’ kin’ o’ ting you?’ Den de oder say: ‘Cho, him no use, him can’ talk.’ Ebery day him da go on like a dummy, till one day dem hol’ him so, ’zaman him tongue, den dem see de tongue tie; dem tek a raza’, cut it. As dem cut it so, bam! de ting mout begin da fly, dem coud n’ ’top it. Dem say: ‘Well, dem sorry dey eber cut de tongue.’ From dat time, it mek you hear dem say: ‘ef you wan’ ooman fe’ good, gib him ’tump o’ tongue’” (stump of tongue, a tongue-tie).

Seeking Trouble Variant A Tradition Bearer: Samuel Carrington Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 267–68.

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Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

I

t was a rabbit oncet. He was a tailor. He says he never know trouble, but Nancy tol’ him to follow him, “Get a bag and come on with me.” So be, dey went in de wood and dey find de tiyger young ones. Nancy put his one in de bag whole, make like he was atearin’ of it to pieces. Ber Rabbit tore up his one in pieces. Ber Nancy tell Ber Rabbit, “Let us go now.” On der journey dey met Ber Tiyger. Ber Nancy says, “Ber Tiyger, I have been in de wood, and find yer young ones, so I have brought dem for yer.” The reply to Ber Nancy, de tiyger tell him, “I thank you, Ber Nancy.” He says, “Empty dem out de bag for me.” Ber Nancy beat out his, skipping about. He says, “Ber Rabbit, you empty out yours now.” When Ber Rabbit empty out, his only was tore in pieces. Wid de frome (?) and de splunge the tiyger made for Ber Rabbit ter ketch him. Ber Rabbit was off runnin’. When he got to a crack Ber Tiyger was taking hold of him. Down in de crack he went. Ber Tiyger leave Ber Nancy in charge of him now, went in de wood for Wil’ Hawg to dig him out. Ber Rabbit says, “Ber Nancy, I was an ol’ man about eighty, I never knows trouble.” Ber Rabbit ask Ber Nancy to release him. He says, “No, I could not do dat, man, I am leave in charge of you.” He says, “Do, release me, dis is trouble.” He says, “No, man.” He says, “I put you in trouble and I am going to take you out of trouble.” He says, “When Ber Wil’ Hawg come, he will dig you out and Ber Tiyger and he will destroy you. But by I put you in trouble, I will release you again. While Ber Hawg a diggin’ for you, you scratch back de moul’ into his eyes, he’ll come to me to blow it out. I will blow the first stuff out his eyes, though the next time he’ll have to apply to Ber Tiyger.” He done so, axed him to blow it, he blow it. When he come Ber Tiyger, he afraid of Ber Tiyger, but he did ask him to blow it out, and de water jump in Ber Tiyger mouth outer Wil’ Hawg eyes. He star’ at him to run him down. Ber Nancy says, “Ber Rabbit, dis yer chance, cut for yer han’.” With dat Ber Nancy turn back, he says, “Man, you left him the first time to watch him, but not dis time.” He says, “If I had a couple of wil’ hawg, I couldn’ ha’ trust to dat.” Ber Tiyger den had ball, invite all of de high fellows, tell dem to invite Ber Rabbit, too. Ber Rabbit says when Ber Tiyger die he will go to de funeral. Went back and told Ber Tiyger to invite Mr. Tie-low, Mr. No-wag and other official to come to encourage Mr. Rabbit to come to de funeral. “And I will ketch him and we’ll have a nice dinner off of him.” Funeral take place at three o’clock. Ber Rabbit appear hisself. Soon as he come he begin to brush his feet. “Come in, Ber

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Rabbit,” he says. “I don’t like to come in a man drawing-room, my feet is dirty, you know.” He says, “When he die did he give a large blow?”—“No, he did not give a large blow when he died.” He says, “Well, I never know a man die and never blow yit.” He stepped back and he told Ber Tiyger, he said, “I never knowed a dead man blowed yet.” Variant B Tradition Bearer: Louise Lavinia Barrow Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 268. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

O

ncet it was a rabbit, a wil’ hawg and a tiyger. De tiyger strip de wil’ hawg young one in half. De wil’ hawg meet up wid de rabbit and say, “Ber Rabbit, ye see my young one?” He said, “Go ’long out dere, I got one here in my bag. Go long out dere!” Ber Tiyger got de oder one rip up in half. De Tiyger tell de rabbit to jump down in de hole and when de hawg come, to tek up a handful of gravel and throw in his face and blin’ him. De rabbit did do so, and when de wil’ hawg baig de tiyger to blow hit out of his eyes, he say he would not. He said, “Do, God bless you, blow it out of my eyes for me.” And jus’ as Tiyger blew out of Wil’ Hawg eyes, he taste de saliva. “Man, you are sweet enough, whay I think of you flesh much sweeter.” He make a snatch den at de tiyger and de tiyger make an escape and get away from him. An, dat wa’ de end. Variant C

Tradition Bearer: Louise Lavinia Barrow Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 268. Date: 1925 Original Source: Barbados National Origin: African American

D

e meaning to dat is de rabbit an’ de tiyger was good frien’s. De rabbit p’ovo’ de tiyger and den de tiyger get his frien’s an’ arrange ter kill de rabbit. De tiyger and de wil’ hawg was good frien’s. Sum’ up his frien’s

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den to eat de rabbit. De tiyger sen’ to de rabbit, sayin’ de wil’ hawg was daid, so as to get de chance to eat him [rabbit]. An’ when de rabbit get to de do’, he wouldn’t go inside, he stay outside. De tiyger say, “Frien’ come in, your frien’ has daid.” De rabbit den axe de tiyger if de wil’ hawg did pass de wind when he die, an’ he say no. De rabbit say den, “Mus’ touch him, and if he pass de wind, he daid.” He did touch him and he pass de win’. He say, “Impossible for a daid man to pass de win’.” An’ he say good mawnin’ and he was gone.

De Big Worrum (The Big Worm) Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. Pages 72–73 in Bahama Songs and Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 3. New York: American Folklore Society, 1895. Date: 1895 Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

O

nce it vwas a time, a very good time, De monkey chewed tobacco an’ ’e spit white lime.

So dis day it vwas a man; he had two sons; dey did n’ have no fire. Hall dey had to heat vwas raw potatoes. Now de man sen’ dis boy to look for fire. De boy vwalk; he vwalk; he vwalk till vw’en ’e look ’e see one smoke. Vw’en ’e gone ’e git to dat fire. Vw’en ’e get dere, de worrum vwas full o’ fire. De boy say, “Dimme some fan!” (Give me some fire). De worrum say, “’T ain’, ’t ain’ none; jes’ do fur me.” De worrum say, “Come in little closer.” Good! Soon as de boy vwen’ a little closer, vw’en ’e vwen’ to reach de fire de worrum swallow ’im down. Den de boy vwen’ down, right down, down inside de worrum till ’e stop. De boy met whole lot o’ people vwat de worrum did swallow. So now de man tell de hudder son, “I wonder whey my son gone?” De hudder son say, “Pa, I goin’ look fur him.” ’e vwalk, ’e vwalk, ’e vwalk till ’e come to this big worrum, vw’at had de fire in his mouth. So now de boy vwen’ to de worrum. De boy say, “Dimme some fan!” De worrum say, “Keelie o’ fire” (Come and get fire). De boy say, “Do i en e, dimme some fan?” De worrum say, “Come a little closer.” De worrum say, “Time for Joe come” (Time to go home). De worrum

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say, “Keelie o’ fire.” Vw’en de boy vwen’ to get de fire so, de worrum swallow him down. De boy vwen’; ’e vwen’ down; ’e vwen’ down, till ’e met ’e brudder. Now de boy fadder say, “My two sons gone an’ I might as vwell gone too.” De man take ’e lan’ (lance); it fairly glisten, it so sharp. Vw’en ’e get dere whey de worrum vwas wid de fire in he mouth, de man say, “Dimme some fan?” De worrum say, “You too do fur me!” (You’re too much for me). De worrum say, “Keelie o’ fire.” Vw’en de man vwen’ to get de fire, so, de worrum vwen’ to swallow ’im. De man take he’ lan’; as ’e vwas goin’ down ’e cut de worrum; ’e cut de worrum till ’e cut de worrum right open an’ all de people come, an’ dat vwas a big city right dere. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Hax my captain an’ my crew.

The Girl and the Fish Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Edwards, Charles L. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore: Fairy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 247. Date: 1891 Original Source: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas National Origin: African American

D

is day dis girl vwen’ down to de sea for salt vwatah. She ketch one little fish hout de conch shell. She name ’im Choncho-wally. She put ’im in de vwell. Ev’ry mohnen she use to put some ’er breakfas’ in de bucket an’ carry to de fish; an’ some ’er dinner, an’ some ’er supper. She feed ’im till ’e get a big fish. Dis mohnin’, vw’en she vwen’ to cahy de breakfas’ for ’im, she sing— Conch-o, Conch-o-wall—y, Don’t you vwan’ to mar-ry me, My deddy short-tail? ’E comes up an’ she feed ’im. Den she let ’im go down. Vw’en she vwen’ home, de boy say, “Pa, siste’ got somet’in’ inside de vwell.”

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Den de nex’ day she come; bring vittles again for ’im. De man say to de boy, “You go behin’ de tree an’ listen to vw’at she goin’ sing.” De gal sing— Conch-o, Conch-o-wall—y, Don’t you vwan’ to marr-y me, My deddy short-tail? Huh! De boy ketch it; ’e gone; tell ’e pa. De boy say, “Pa, sister say, ‘Concho, Conch-o-wally,’” etc. De man go; ’e took he grange, ’e sing, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” Don’t you vwan’ to marry me, My deddy short-tail? De fish come hup; ’e strike ’im. ’E carry ’im home an’ dey had some fur dinner. De gal say, “I bet you dis nice fish!” Den de gal took some in de bucket to cahy to de fish. Den vw’en de gal vwen’ to de vwell to call de fish, she sing, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” Don’t you vwan’ to marry me, My deddy short-tail? She sing again, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” Don’t you vwan’ to marry me, My deddy short-tail?” She ain’ hear no fish, an’ she ain’ see none. She sing again, “Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” Don’t you vwan’ to marry me, My deddy short-tail? She begin to cry now, ““Conch-o, Conch-o-wally,” Don’t you vwan’ to marry me, My deddy short-tail? Den she vwen’ home to de house, behin’ de house, an’ she cry ’erself to death. E bo ban, my story’s en’, If you don’t believe my story’s true, Ask my captain an’ my crew.

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Glossary




322

Bibliography to Volume II

Abrahams, Roger D., ed. African American Folktales: Stories from Black Traditions in the New World. New York: Pantheon, 1985. ———. The Man-of-Words in the West Indies. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983. Ancelet, Barry Jean. “The Cajun Who Went to Harvard: Identity in the Oral Tradition of South Louisiana.” Journal of Popular Culture 23 (1989): 101–15. Backus, Emma M. “Animal Tales from North Carolina.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 284–92. ———. “Folk-Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 19–32. ———. “Tales of the Rabbit from Georgia Negroes.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 108–15. Backus, Emma M., and Ethel Hatton Leitner. “Negro Tales from Georgia.” Journal of American Folklore 25 (1912): 125–36. Bates, William C. “Creole Folk-Lore from Jamaica II: Nancy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 121–28. Beckwith, Martha Warren. Jamaica Anansi Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 17. New York: American Folklore Society, 1924. Bowman, Earl. “Interview of William D. Naylor.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.


Bunter, Rosa. “Ghosts as Guardians of Hidden Treasure.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 64–65. Carter, Isabel Gordon. “Mountain White Folk-Lore: Tales from the Southern Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 340–74. Chase, Richard. “Jack and the Fire Dragaman.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 5 (1941): 151–55. ———. “The Lion and the Unicorn.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 1 (1937): 15–19. Claudel, Calvin. “Louisiana Tales of Jean Sot and Boqui and Lapin.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 8 (1944): 287–99. Claudel, Calvin, and J.-M. Carrier. “Three Tales from the French Folklore of Louisiana.” Journal of American Folklore 56 (1943): 38–44. Comhaire-Sylvain, Suzanne. “Creole Tales from Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 50 (1937): 207–95. Cooke, Elizabeth Johnston. “English Folk-Tales in America. The Bride of the Evil One.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 126–30. Cross, Tom Peete. “Folk-Lore from the Southern States.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 251–55. Dorsey, J. Owen. “Two Biloxi Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 48–50. Douglas, Sir George. “The Witty Exploits of Mr. George Buchanan, the King’s Fool.” Scottish Fairy and Folktales. New York: A. L. Burt Company, 1901. Dubois, Sylvie, and Barbara M. Horvath. “Creoles and Cajuns: A Portrait in Black and White.” American Speech 78 (2003): 192–207. Dubois, Sylvie, and Megan Melançon. “Creole Is; Creole Ain’t: Diachronic and Synchronic Attitudes Toward Creole French Identity in Southern Louisiana.” Language in Society 29 (2000): 237–58. Edwards, Charles L. Bahama Songs and Stories. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 3. New York: American Folklore Society, 1895. ———. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 47–54. ———. “Some Tales from Bahama Folk-Lore: Fairy Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 247–52. Fauset, Arthur Huff. “Negro Folk Tales from the South (Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana).” Journal of American Folklore 40 (1927): 213–303. Fischer, David Hackett. Albion’s Seed: Four British Folkways in America. New York: Oxford University Press, l989. Fortier, Alcee. “Louisianian Nursery-Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 140–45.

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Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 407–20. Hubert, Levi. “Interview of Joseph Madden.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Hudson, Arthur Palmer, and Pete Kyle McCarter. “The Bell Witch of Tennessee and Mississippi: A Folk Legend.” Journal of American Folklore 47 (1934): 46–58. Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 294–312. “The Irishman and the Pumpkin.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 226. Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 40–88. Johnston, Mrs. William Preston. “Two Negro Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 194–98. McNeil, W. K. Ozark Country. Oxford: University Press of Mississippi, 1995. Miller, E. Joan Wilson. “Ozark Culture Region as Revealed by Traditional Materials.” Annals of the Association of American Geographers 58 (1968): 51–77. Mooney, James. James Mooney’s History, Myths, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees. Asheville, NC: Historical Images, 1992. ———. “Myths of the Cherokees.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 97–108. ———. “Myths of the Cherokee.” Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897–1898, Part I. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1900. ———. “The Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees.” Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1891. Mosley, Ruby. “Interview of Eldora Scott Maples.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Owen, Mary A. “Ol’ Rabbit an’ de Dawg He Stole.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1890): 135–38. Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Barbados Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 38 (1925): 267–92. ———. Folk-Lore of the Sea Islands, South Carolina. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 16. New York: American Folklore Society, 1923.

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Porter, J. Hampden. “Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Mountain Whites of the Alleghenies.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 105–17. Rath, Richard Cullen. “Drums and Power: Ways of Creolizing Music in Coastal South Carolina and Georgia, 1730–1790.” Pages 99-130 in Creolization in the Americas, edited by David Buisseret and Steven G. Rheinhardt. College Station: University of Texas at Arlington Press, 2000. Ray, Marie. “Jean Sotte Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 364–65. “The Sea Tick and the Irishman.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 226. Simpson, George E. “Loup Garou and Loa Tales from Northern Haiti.” Journal of American Folklore 55 (1942): 219–27. Simpson, George E., and J. B. Cineas. “Folk Tales of Haitian Heroes.” Journal of American Folklore 54 (1941): 176–85. Smiley, Portia. “Folk-Lore from Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida.” Journal of American Folklore 32 (1919): 357–83. Smith, Pamela Coleman. “Two Negro Stories from Jamaica.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 278. Speck, Frank G. “European Tales among the Chickasaw Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 292. Spitzer, Nicholas R. “All Things Creole: Mout de tour le monde.” Journal of American Folklore 116 (2003): 57–72. Steiner, Roland. “Braziel Robinson Possessed of Two Spirits.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 226–28. ———. “Sol Lockheart’s Call.” Journal of American Folklore 48 (1900): 67–70. Swanton, John R. Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88.Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1929. Trowbridge, Ada Wilson. “Negro Customs and Folk-Stories of Jamaica.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 279–87. Wiltse, Henry M. “In the Southern Field of Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 209–12.

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———. “Huron Folklore III: The Legend of the Thunderers.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 189–94. Hall, Julien A. “Negro Conjuring and Tricking.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 241–43. Halpert, Herbert. Folktales and Legends from the New Jersey Pines: A Collection and a Study. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1947. ———. “Pennsylvania Fairylore and Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 58 (1945): 130–34. Harper, Francis. “Tales of the Okefinoke.” American Speech 1 (1926): 407–20. Hartman, George. “Interview of Ed Grantham.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of E. O. Skeidler.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 18 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Hayward, Silvanus. “English Folktales in America II.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 291–95. Henning, D. C. “Tales of the Blue Mountains in Pennsylvania.” Miners’ Journal (Pottsdam, PA), March 26, 1897. Herrick, Mrs. R. F. “The Black Dog of the Blue Ridge.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 151–52. Hoffman, W. J. “Folklore of the Pennsylvania Germans III.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 191–202. Hubert, Levi. “Interview of Joseph Madden.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of Mary Thomas.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Hudson, Arthur Palmer, and Pete Kyle McCarter. “The Bell Witch of Tennessee and Mississippi: A Folk Legend.” Journal of American Folklore 47 (1934): 46–58. Hufford, David. The Terror That Comes in the Night: An Experience-Centered Study of Supernatural Assault Traditions. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982.

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Hurston, Zora Neale. “Dance Songs and Tales from the Bahamas.” Journal of American Folklore 43 (1930): 294–312. “Interview of Bones Hooks.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. “Interview of E. V. Batchler.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. “The Irishman and the Pumpkin.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 226. Jack, Edward. “Maliseet Legends.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 193–208. James, George Wharton. “A Saboba Origin Myth.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 36–39. Jarreau, Lafayette, “Creole Folklore of Pointe Coupee Parish.” MA thesis, Louisiana State University, 1931. Jenks, Albert Ernest. “The Bear Maiden: An Ojibwa Folk-Tale from Lac Courte Oreille Reservation, Wisconsin.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 33–35.Johnson, Clifton. “The Twist-Mouth Family.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 322–23. Johnson, John H. “Folk-Lore from Antigua, British West Indies.” Journal of American Folklore 34 (1921): 40–88. Johnston, Mrs. William Preston. “Two Negro Folktales.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 194–98. Jones, William. “Notes on the Fox Indians.” Journal of American Folklore 24 (1911): 209–37. Kamenskii, Annatolii. Tlingit Indians of Alaska. Translated and with an introduction and supplementary material by Sergei Kan. Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 1985. Kawaharada, Dennis. Ancient Oahu: Stories from Fornander & Thrum. Honolulu: Kalamaku Press, 2001. Kercheval, George Truman. “An Otoe and an Omaha Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 199–204. Kittredge, George Lyman. “English Folktales in America.” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 291–95. Knox, Robert H. “A Blackfoot Version of the Magical Flight.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 401–3.

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———. Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu. Boston: G.H. Ellis Press, 1915. ———. Hawaiian Legends of Volcanoes. Boston: G.H. Ellis Press, 1916. Will, George F. “No-Tongue, A Mandan Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 331–37. ———. “No-Tongue, A Mandan Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 29 (1916): 402–6. Williams, Ellis. “Interview of Zenobia Brown.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 20 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Williams, Mentor L., ed. Schoolcraft’s Indian Legends. East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1956. Wilson, Howard Barrett. “Notes of Syrian Folk-Lore Collected in Boston.” Journal of American Folklore 16 (1903): 133–47. Wiltse, Henry M. “In the Southern Field of Folk-Lore.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 209–12. Wissler, Clark. “Some Dakota Myths I.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 121–31. ———. “Some Dakota Myths II.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 195–206. “Witchcraft in New Mexico.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 167–68. Wrenn, Sarah B. “Interview of Annie Cason Lee.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 11 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of Jane Lee Smith.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Wrenshall, Letitia Humphreys. “Incantations and Popular Healing in Maryland and Pennsylvania.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 268–74. Zingerle, Ignaz and Joseph. Kinder- und Hausmärchen, gesammelt durch die Brüder Zingerle. Innsbruck: Verlag der Wagner’schen Buchhandlung, 1852.

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About the Editor

T



The Greenwood Library of American Folktales VOLUME III

The Southwest, The Plains and Plateau, The West





Contents

VOLUME III The Southwest Introduction Origins Origin of Acoma Origin of the Apaches Origin of the Animals Origin of Fire How Sheep and Horses and Burros Came to the Zuni Noqoìlpi, the Gambler: A Navajo Myth The Antelope Boy Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools The Hero Twins How the Twins of War and Chance Fared with the Unborn-Made Men of the Underworld How the Twins Visited the Sun How the Twins Killed the Giant Elk How Tiyo Punished Man-Eagle

1 3 7 7 17 19 22 24 35 41 47 47 52 57 59 60

Contents

Elfego Baca Booger Red The Turkey Herd History of a Buffalo Hunter Victorio’s Raid Range Life in Texas The Adams Diggings Them Petrified Buzzards Meteor Hell! Cicero Done It The Coyote and the Woodpecker Some of Coyote’s Adventures Tales of Fox

63 68 77 79 83 86 92 98 103 109 111 114

The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales Witch Flights Witches Discovered Curanderas and Brujas I Curanderas and Brujas II The Ghost Penitente

121 121 122 124 125 127

The Plains and Plateau

129

Introduction

131

Origins Origin of the Universe Arikara Creation Coyote’s Theft of Fire The Cannibal and His Wives How the Whites Became Rich Crossing the Plains from Kentucky

135 135 159 164 173 178 181

Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools Young Men Who Killed the Horned Serpent and Released the Buffalo The Stone Boy The Story of No-Tongue The Further Adventures of No-Tongue

185 185 188 192 199

vi

Contents

Long Tail and Spotted Body Rescue their Nephews Who Become the Twin Monster Killers The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars Bill Foscett Matthew “Bones” Hooks, Cowboy Coyote and the Buffalo The Eye-Juggler Joke on Jake He-man from the West The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales The Three Nephites Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe The Woman with a Bear Lover Magical Flight Ghost Wife Two Faces

206 212 220 224 228 230 233 238 241 241 251 254 257 261 262

The West Introduction Origins Silver Fox Creates the World and Humans Creation of Man The Making of the World The Creation of the Indians A Giant’s Rock-Throwing How Milu Became the King of Ghosts The Theft of Fire How the Saboba People Came to California Legend of the Breadfruit Tree Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools The Bride from the Underworld The Adventures of Haininu and Baumegwesu Kampuaa Legends: Legends of the Hog God Centipede

265 267 271 271 274 277 278 281 284 287 289 292 297 297 305 312 326

vii

Contents

The Theft of Pine Nuts Prairie Falcon’s Contest with Meadowlark Coyote and the Grizzly Bears How the Coyote Married His Daughter Coyote and Wolf Coyote and the Sun Hell, Bob and Me Planted ’em The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales Pele’s Long Sleep Meeting with Wovoka The Man Who Brought Water to Atami Coyote and His Sister Robin Walking Skeleton Glossary Bibliography to Volume III General Bibliography Cumulative Index

viii

331 335 339 341 342 344 346 353 353 361 364 367 369 387 389 395 411

THE SOUTHWEST

Introduction

F

or purposes of The Greenwood Library of American Folktales, the Southwest is limited to Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. The landscape of these states varies from thickly forested areas of the piney woods in East Texas to cedar and oak as one moves further into the state or into the mountains of New Mexico. The Gulf Coast of Texas is contrasted with the deserts of New Mexico and Arizona. The plains give way to rolling hill country and mountains crop up at various locations in this region. With its dramatic extremes of blasting heat, temperatures reaching as high as 125 degrees in the Sonoran desert, and bitter cold in the higher elevations of the Rocky Mountains in Arizona and New Mexico, the climate itself has inspired the folk imagination—particularly tall tales. “Them Petrified Buzzards” (p. 98) tells the story of a desert heat so dry that buzzards ossified while wheeling through the sky in search of a meal; the buzzards continued their petrified hovering, though, unable to change altitude because of their stone wings. Other features of the landscape received similar treatment. According to “Meteor Hell! Cicero Done It!” Meteor Crater—near Arizona cities Winslow and Flagstaff— was the work not of a meteorite’s impact with Earth, but resulted from the efforts of a Paiute goat named Cicero. The Southwestern region’s ecology has in turn given rise to a variety of occupations and the lifestyles attendant upon them. Fertile flatlands and river bottoms, the coasts, the open plains, and mountain ranges supported farming, commercial and subsistence fishing, gathering, ranching, mining, subsistence hunting and—before the virtual extermination of the great bison herds—hide hunting. Each of these vocations has left its mark on oral tradition. “Range Life

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales | Volume III

in Texas” (p. 86) provides the details of a working Texas cowboy, while “Booger Red” (p. 68) takes Samuel Thomas (“Booger Red”) Privett from his boyhood on a spread in Dublin, Texas, to starring in the most well-known circuses and wild west shows of the turn of the century. Gunfighters and lawmen of New Mexico are celebrated equally in the oral autobiography of Mexican American folk hero Elfego Baca (p. 63), as are Buffalo Hunters who, in the words of Manuel Jesus Vasques, “never held one single penny in his hand” while his patron lived (see “History of a Buffalo Hunter,” p. 79). Elsewhere in the state, miners toiled and prospectors searched for the “mother load” as described in “The Adams Diggings” (p. 92). The business of raising crops under difficult situations is explored from the European American perspective in “Victorio’s Raid” (p. 83), and the sacred nature of the same enterprise emerges from the Native American “Origin of Acoma” (p. 7). While it is an extreme oversimplification, particularly in the twenty-first century, to claim that the Southwest Region has been marked by the coming together of three cultures—the Native American, the Hispanic, and the Anglo American—these cultures traditionally have been recognized as having exerted early and profound influence on the region. Before turning to these, however, it should be noted that Americans of African, Asian, continental European, and Middle Eastern descent have made their unique impressions of the Southwest. Moreover, to presume that there is a uniform “Native American” culture among the various indigenous cultures—Pueblo, Athabascan, Plains, and others that inhabited the area—does an equal disservice. With this disclaimer, it is now possible to consider a sample of the folktales that arose from the mix of cultures in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Turning first to the Native American, a concern with the origin of the environment and those elements of it that provide subsistence becomes immediately apparent. In “Origin of Acoma” (p. 7)—the origin myth of village dwelling Native American horticulturists—the maturation of the world mimics the growth of the corn plant and outlines the social principles necessary to farm in the middle of the desert. Occupying the same region with overlapping territory but different lifestyles, the Athabascan Jicarilla Apaches in “Origin of the Apaches” (p. 17) and the Navajo in “Noqoìlpi, the Gambler: A Navajo Myth” (p. 35) offer different views of the history and construction of the universe. “The Turkey Herd” (p. 77), a Pueblo “Cinderella,” and “How Sheep and Horses and Burros Came to the Zuni” (p. 24) result from creative culture contact between Native American and Hispanic Cultures. Unfortunately, many of these native cultures were displaced and some were eradicated by the arrival of the next groups to arrive in the Southwest.

4

The Southwest | Introduction

The Spanish culture, in the person of Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, was the first European element to enter the Southwest Region (1528). After Cabeza de Vaca’s travels through Texas and New Mexico, he returned to Spain with the stories of vast riches that led to the introduction of not only the Spanish language and culture, but also the livestock that generated the Zuni narrative mentioned in the preceding paragraph. The horse, in particular, when taken up by the Southern Plains Shoshoneanses and Athabascan people (the Comanche and Apache, respectively), caused a cultural revolution that inevitably appeared in the folktales of the Southwest and at a somewhat later date in the culture of the Plains and Plateau Region. With the Spanish came both European folklore and Roman Catholicism. Individually and in combination with Native American perceptions of the supernatural, belief tales, personal experience narratives, and legends such as “Witch Flights” (p. 121), “Witches Discovered” (p. 122), “Curanderas and Brujas” (pp. 124 and 125), and “The Ghost Penitente” (p. 127) produced a potent mix of both religion and magic and also mysticism and medicine that was preserved in narratives. The Anglo American presence was introduced to the Southwest in Texas in 1823 with the founding of a colony on the Brazos River by Stephen F. Austin. In 1846, during the Mexican War, United States troops were led by General Stephen W. Kearny into Santa Fe and occupied the city in. The United States took possession of New Mexico and most of Arizona at the end of the war in 1848. Settlement of the area accelerated after the end of the Civil War in 1865, thus, increasing the “Anglo” population (a population that consisted not simply of Anglo Americans, but also African Americans and other ethnic groups). In the context of the present collection of American folktales, the cowboy, the farmer, the prospector and the lawman—who was compelled to keep order among them (all of whom have been mentioned in earlier paragraphs)—stand out protagonists. Each of these groups has memorialized in folk narrative its heroes, its antagonists and its human symbols. Each of these figures represents the response to the Southwestern environment, dictated by their worldview, their ambitions, and their historical niche.

SUGGESTED READINGS Boatright, Mody Coggin. Mody Boatright, Folklorist: A Collection of Essays. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973.

5


Espinosa, Aurelio. The Folklore of Spain in the American Southwest: Traditional Spanish Folk Literature in Northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado. Edited by J. Manuel Espinosa. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985. Farrer, Claire. Thunder Rides a Black Horse: Mescalero Apaches and the Mythic Present. 2nd edition. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press, 1996. Matthews, Washington. Navajo Legends. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 5. New York: American Folklore Society, 1897. Parsons, Elsie Clews. Kiowa Tales. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 22. New York: American Folklore Society, 1929. ———. Tewa Tales. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 19. New York: American Folklore Society, 1926. Weigle, Martha and Peter White. The Lore of New Mexico. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988. West, John O. Mexican-American Folklore. Little Rock, AR: August House, 1988.

6

ORIGINS

ORIGIN OF ACOMA Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Stirling, Matthew W. Pages 1–10 in Origin Myth of Acoma and Other Records. Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 135. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1942. Date: 1928 Original Source: Acoma Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

As with all myths of origin, this one from Acoma Pueblo details the ways in which the orderly universe develops from primal chaos. The physical environment and its life forms are created, as are technology, religious practice, and elements of the social structure. The residents of Acoma are traditionally farmers who rely on the meager New Mexico rainfall rather than on the irrigation used by the Pueblos farther to the east. The image used to depict the development of the current order suggests maturation and emergence from an underground world; it is derived from the model of the growing corn plant—the primary Acoma crop and, therefore, the basis of traditional subsistence. The central place of the plant in practical and ceremonial life and the role of the sun in the nurturing of the plant are depicted in the myth. The kiva, the underground site of Pueblo religious life, re-creates Shipapu, which is identified in this narrative as the original source of life. The primacy of the sacred number “four” is


reflected in, for example, the presence of four directions, four kinds of pine trees, four seeds, and four mountains. The Acoma, like the rest of the Western Pueblos, emphasize clans related through the female line and women own both houses and gardens. The female gender of the primal pair establishes these kinship and ownership patterns. The two sisters embody messages concerning traditional ethics and morality, as well. Iatiku’s altruistic behavior is regarded as more appropriately Pueblo than is Nautsiti’s self-absorption and hoarding. Thus, in a later myth, Nautsiti eventually “disappears into the East”—her behavior becoming increasingly less appropriate by Western Pueblo standards—while Iatiku remains to establish clans, ceremonies, and other features of Acoma culture.

I

n the beginning two female human beings were born. These two children were born underground at a place called Shipapu. As they grew up, they began to be aware of each other. There was no light and they could only feel each other. Being in the dark they grew slowly. After they had grown considerably, a Spirit whom they afterward called Tsichtinako spoke to them, and they found that it would give them nourishment. After they had grown large enough to think for themselves, they spoke to the Spirit when it had come to them one day and asked it to make itself known to them and to say whether it was male or female, but it replied only that it was not allowed to meet with them. They then asked why they were living in the dark without knowing each other by name, but the Spirit answered that they were nuk’timi (under the earth); but they were to be patient in waiting until everything was ready for them to go up into the light. So they waited a long time, and as they grew they learned their language from Tsichtinako. When all was ready, they found a present from Tsichtinako, two baskets of seeds and little images of all the different animals (there were to be) in the world. The Spirit said they were sent by their father. They asked who was meant ¯ ch’tsiti and that he by their father, and Tsichtinako replied that his name was U wished them to take their baskets out into the light, when the time came. Tsichtinako instructed them, “You will find the seeds of four kinds of pine trees, la¯’khok, ge¯i’etsu (dyai’its), wanu¯ka, and la˘’nye, in your baskets. You are to plant these seeds and will use the trees to get up into the light.” They could not see the things in their baskets but feeling each object in turn they asked, “Is this it?” until the seeds were found. They then planted the seeds as Tsichtinako instructed. All of the four seeds sprouted, but in the darkness the trees grew

8

The Southwest | Origin of Acoma

very slowly and the two sisters became very anxious to reach the light as they waited this long time. They slept for many years as they had no use for eyes. Each time they awoke they would feel the trees to see how they were growing. The tree la˘’nye grew faster than the others and after a very long time pushed a hole through the earth for them and let in a very little light. The others stopped growing, at various heights, when this happened. The hole that the tree la˘’nye made was not large enough for them to pass through, so Tsichtinako advised them to look again in their baskets where they would find the image of an animal called dyu·pi (badger) and tell it to become alive. They told it to live, and it did so as they spoke, exclaiming, “A’uha! Why have you given me life?” They told it not to be afraid nor to worry about coming to life. “We have brought you to life because you are to be useful.” Tsichtinako spoke to them again, instructing them to tell Badger to climb the pine tree, to bore a hole large enough for them to crawl up, cautioning him not to go out into the light, but to return, when the hole was finished. Badger climbed the tree and after he had dug a hole large enough, returned saying that he had done his work. They thanked him and said, “As a reward you will come up with us to the light and thereafter you will live happily. You will always know how to dig and your home will be in the ground where you will be neither too hot nor too cold.” Tsichtinako now spoke again, telling them to look in the basket for Ta¯wa¯i’nu ¯ (locust), giving it life and asking it to smooth the hole by plastering. It too was to be cautioned to return. This they did and Locust smoothed the hole but, having finished, went out into the light. When it returned reporting that it had done its work, they asked it if it had gone out. Locust said no, and every time he was asked he replied no, until the fourth time when he admitted that he had gone out. They asked Locust what it was like outside. Locust replied that it was just tsı¯’ı¯tı¯ (laid out flat). They said, “From now on you will be known as Tsi·k’a˘. You will also come up with us, but you will be punished for disobedience by being allowed out only a short time. Your home will be in the ground and you will have to return when the weather is bad. You will soon die but you will be reborn each season.” The hole now let light into the place where the two sisters were, and Tsichtinako spoke to them, “Now is the time you are to go out. You are able to take your baskets with you. In them you will find pollen and sacred corn meal. When you reach the top, you will wait for the Sun to come up and that direction will be called ha’nami (east). With the pollen and the sacred corn meal you will pray to the Sun. You will thank the Sun for bringing you to light, ask for a long life and happiness, and for success in the purpose for which you were created.” Tsichtinako then taught them the prayers and the creation song, which they were to sing. This took a long while, but finally the sisters followed by

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Badger and Locust, went out into the light, climbing the pine tree. Badger was very strong and skillful and helped them. On reaching the earth, they set down their baskets and saw for the first time what they had. The earth was soft and spongy under their feet as they walked, and they said, “This is not ripe.” They stood waiting for the Sun, not knowing where it would appear. Gradually it grew lighter and finally the Sun came up. Before they began to pray, Tsichtinako told them they were facing east and that their right side, the side their best aim was on, would be known as ku¯’a¯ime¯ (south) and the left ti dyami (north) while behind at their backs was the direction pu¯na’me (west) where the Sun would go down. They had already learned while underground the direction nu˘k’u˘mi (down) and later, when they asked where their father was, they were told tyunami (four skies above.) And as they waited to pray to the Sun, the girl on the right moved her best hand and was named Iatiku, which meant “bringing to life.” Tsichtinako then told her to name her sister, but it took a long time. Finally Tsichtinako noticed that the other had more in her basket, so Tsichtinako told Iatiku to name her thus, and Iatiku called her Nautsiti, which meant “more of everything in the basket.” They now prayed to the Sun as they had been taught by Tsichtinako, and sang the creation song. Their eyes hurt for they were not accustomed to the strong light. For the first time they asked Tsichtinako why they were on earth and why they were created. Tsichtinako replied, “I did not make you. Your father, Uchtsiti made you, and it is he who has made the world, the Sun which you have seen, the sky, and many other things which you will see. But Uchtsiti says the world is not yet completed, not yet satisfactory, as he wants it. This is the reason he has made you. You will rule and bring to life the rest of the things he has given you in the baskets.” The sisters then asked how they themselves had come into being. Tsichtinako answered saying, “Uchtsiti first made the world. He threw a clot of his own blood into space and by his power it grew and grew until it became the earth. Then Uchtsiti planted you in this and by it you were nourished as you developed. Now that you have emerged from within the earth, you will have to provide nourishment for yourselves. I will instruct you in this.” They then asked where their father lived and Tsichtinako replied, “You will never see your father, he lives four skies above, and has made you to live in this world. He has made you in the image of himself.” So they asked why Tsichtinako did not become visible to them, but Tsichtinako replied, “I don’t know how to live like a human being. I have been asked by Uchtsiti to look after you and to teach you. I will always guide you.” And they asked again how they were to live, whether they could go down once more under the ground, for they were afraid of the winds and rains and their eyes were hurt by the light. Tsichtinako replied that Uchtsiti

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would take care of that and would furnish them means to keep warm and change the atmosphere so that they would get used to it. At the end of the first day, when it became dark they were much frightened, for they had not understood that the Sun would set and thought that Tsichtinako had betrayed them. “Tsichtinako! Tsichtinako! You told us we were to come into the light,” they cried, “why, then, is it dark?” So Tsichtinako explained, “This is the way it will always be. The Sun will go down and the next day come up anew in the east. When it is dark you are to rest and sleep as you slept when all was dark.” So they were satisfied and slept. They rose to meet the Sun, praying to it as they had been told, and were happy when it came up again, for they were warm and their faith in Tsichtinako was restored. Tsichtinako next said to them, “Now that you have your names, you will pray with your names and your clan names so that the Sun will know you and recognize you.” Tsichtinako asked Nautsiti which clan she wished to belong to. Nautsiti answered, “I wish to see the Sun, that is the clan I will be.” The spirit told Nautsiti to ask Iatiku what clan she wanted. Iatiku thought for a long time but finally she noticed that she had the seed from which sacred meal was made in her basket and no other kind of seeds. She thought, “With this name I shall be very proud, for it has been chosen for nourishment and it is sacred.” So she said, “I will be Corn clan.” They then waited for the Sunto come up. When it appeared, Tsichtinako once more advised them to sing the first song and to pray, not forgetting their name and their clan name in starting their prayer. After the prayer they were to sing the second song. When the Sun appeared it was too bright for Iatiku and it hurt her eyes. She wondered if Nautsiti’s eyes hurt her, too, so she put her head down and sideways, letting her hair fall, and looked at Nautsiti. By doing this the light did not strike her squarely in the face and her hair cast a shade. Tsichtinako said, “Iatiku, the Sun has not appeared for you. Look at Nautsiti, see how strongly the light is striking her. Notice how white she looks.” And although Iatiku turned to the Sun, it did not make her as white as Nautsiti, and Iatiku’s mind was slowed up while Nautsiti’s mind was made fast. But both of them remembered everything and did everything as they were taught. When they had completed their prayers to the Sun, Tsichtinako said, “You have done everything well and now you are both to take up your baskets and you must look to the north, west, south, and east, for you are now to pray to the Earth to accept the things in the basket and to give them life. First you must pray to the north, at the same time lift up your baskets in that direction. You will then do the same to the west, then to the south and east.” They did as they

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were told and did it well. And Tsichtinako, said to them, “From now on you will rule in every direction, north, west, south, and east.” They now questioned Tsichtinako again so that they would understand more clearly why they were given the baskets and their contents, and Tsichtinako replied, “Everything in the baskets is to be created by your word, for you are made in the image of Uchtsiti and your word will be as powerful as his word. He has created you to help him complete the world. You are to plant the seeds of the different plants to be used when anything is needed. I shall always be ready to point out to you the various plants and animals.” The sisters did not realize that they were not taking food and did not understand when Tsichtinako told them they were to plant seeds to give them nourishment. But they were always ready to do as Tsichtinako, asked, and she told them to plant first that which would maintain life, grains of corp. “When this plant grows,” said Tsichtinako, “it will produce a part which I will point out to you. This will be taken as food.” Everything in the basket was in pairs and the sisters planted two of each kind of corn. The corn grew very slowly so Tsichtinako told them to plant ˘sthe ı ˘ (the earliest plant to come up in the spring; gray with a small white flower; dies quickly) and to transmit its power of early ripening to the corn. They were very interested in the corn and watched it every day as it grew. Tsichtinako showed them where the pollen came out. “That you will call ku ¯’a˘ch’tı¯mu,” she said, “there the pollen win [will?] appear. When the pollen is plentiful, you will gather it, and with it and corn meal you will pray to the rising Sun each morning.” This they did always, but Nautsiti was sometimes a little lazy. After some time the corn ripened. Tsichtinako told them to look at it and to gather some. They saw that the corn was hard and they picked four ears. Iatiku took two ears carefully without hurting the plant, but Nautsiti jerked hers off roughly. Iatiku noticed this and cautioned her sister not to ruin the plants. They took the ears of corn to Tsichtinako saying, “We have brought the corn, it is ripe.” Tsichtinako agreed and explained that the corn ears when cooked would be their food. They did not understand this and asked what they would cook with. Tsichtinako then told them that Uchtsiti would give them fire. That night as they sat around they saw a red light drop from the sky. After they had seen it, Tsichtinako told them it was fire, and that they were to go over and get some of it. They asked with what, and she told them to get it with a flat rock because it was very hot and they could not take it in their hands. After getting it with a rock, they asked what they were to do with it, and were told they were to make a fire, to go to the pine tree they had planted, to break off some of the branches and put them in the fire. They went to the tree and broke some of the

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twigs from it. When they got back to the fire, they were told to throw the twigs down. They did so and a large pile of wood appeared there. Tsichtinako told them this wood would last many years till there was time for trees to grow, and showed them how to build a fire. She told them that with the flames from the fire they would keep warm and would cook their food. Tsichtinako next taught them how to roast the corn. “When it is cooked,” she explained, “you are to eat it. This will be the first time you have eaten, for you have been fasting for a long time and Uchtsiti has been nourishing you. You will find salt in your baskets; with this you will season the corn.” They began to look for this and Tsichtinako pointed it out to them. As soon as they were told this, Nautsiti grabbed some corn and salt. She was the first to taste them and exclaimed that they were very good, but Iatiku was slower. After Nautsiti had eaten part, she gave it to Iatiku to taste. When both had eaten, Tsichtinako told them that this was the way they were going to live, and be nourished. They were very thankful, saying, “You have treated us well,” They asked if this would be their only food. Tsichtinako said, “No, you have many other things in your baskets; many seeds and images of animals, all in pairs. Some will be eaten and taken for nourishment by you.” After they had used the salt, they were asked by Tsichtinako to give life to this salt by praying to the Earth, first in the north direction, then in the west, then in the south, and then in the east. And when they did so, salt appeared in each of these directions. Tsichtinako then instructed them to take always the husks from the corn carefully and to dry them. They were then instructed to plant ha˘’mi (tobacco). When the plant matured, they were taught how to roll the leaves in corn husks and to smoke it. (Even now in ceremonies the corn husks must be torn with the fingers and tied in the center with a little strip of corn husk. It may not be cut by artificial means. You smoke in order to make your prayers merge into the minds of the gods to whom prayer is addressed. This will also compel obedience. If a man smokes when a request is made of him, he must obey that request.) They were then told to place the tobacco with the pollen and the corn meal and to remember that these three were always to be together, and to be used in making prayers. Now they were told that they were to give life to an animal whose flesh they were going to use for food. Tsichtinako named this animal as Ba’shya (kangaroo mouse) and also taught them the first song to be sung to animals. She told them to sing this song in order to make the images alive, and pointed out the images to them in the basket. They did everything as they were taught. They sang the song to the image and with the word, “Come to life, Bashya,” it came to life. As it did so it asked, “Why have I come to life?” Tsichtinako told it not to ask any questions because,

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“It is you that is going to give life to other life.” After this was done, Nautsiti and Iatiku, told this animal that it was going to live on the ground and said to it, “Go now and increase.” After the animal increased, Tsichtinako told the sisters to kill one of the animals. “Now eat the two together, the corn and the field mouse, and also the salt to see how it tastes.” She had already told them never to let out the fire that had been given to them. They acted according to Tsichtinako’s instructions. They roasted their corn and roasted the flesh of the field mouse with some salt on it. After it was cooked, Tsichtinako told them to pray with the food, not with all of it, but with little pieces from each—corn, flesh, and salt. Each sister did this and prayed to Uchtsiti, the creator of the world, who lives up in the fourth sky. Tsichtinako told them they were to do this always before eating. After this they ate the food. There was not very much of the meat, but it was good. They did not know that there were to be bones but these were not hard and they broke them with their teeth. They liked the flesh so well that they asked Tsichtinako if they might have something larger that would yield more flesh. Tsichtinako answered that they would find other things in their baskets. They went back to them, and Tsichtinako said they would find Tsu ¯’na (rat) and another animal Katsa (mole) and also Nı¯te (prairie dog). “Go, make these images alive,” said Tsichtinako, pointing them out according to their names. They were to do this in the same way as with Bashya. Tsichtinako also told them that these animals were to be used as food and that they must tell each of these animals to live in the ground because as yet there was no shade on earth to live in. “But before you give life to them,” said Tsichtinako, “it is necessary that you plant seeds of grass which will be the food for them.” Tsichtinako pointed out the seeds they were to plant, and they took the seeds of the grasses and scattered them first to the North, next to the West, then some to the South, and then to the East. And immediately grass covered the ground. They then took the images and prayed to the cardinal points, and, according to the instructions of Tsichtinako, gave life to all of these animals, giving them names as they came to life. Each one as it came to life asked why it had come to life but Tsichtinako told them not to ask questions, that they would give life to other life. As before, the sisters told the animals to increase. After all of this was done, they proceeded to eat the new animals after praying with them, doing just as they did before. The two sisters were now very happy, they had plenty and some to spare. “It is not yet time for the larger animals to be given life,” said Tsichtinako, “first the world must have sufficient plants and small animals to feed them.” After a long time, Tsichtinako spoke to them, “What we are going to do now concerns the earth. We are going to make the mountains.” She told them to remember the words she was going to say. They were to say, “Kaweshtima ko¯ti

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(North Mountain), appear in the north, and we will always know you to be in that direction.” Tsichtinako also pointed out an article in the basket that she named ya’o¯ni (stone) and instructed them to throw the stone to the north direction as they spoke the words. When they did so, a big mountain appeared in the north. After they had done this, Tsichtinako instructed them to do the same thing in the west, but to name this mountain Tsipı¯na koti, and in the south, naming it Da’o¯tyuma koti, and in the east, naming it G’u¯chana koti. After all this was done, Tsichtinako spoke again and told them, “Now that you have all the mountains around you with plains, mesas, and canyons, you must make the growing things of these places.” Tsichtinako told them to go back to the trees which they had planted underground, lakhok, geietsu, wanuka, and la˘’nye. She told them to take the seeds from these trees, and they did so. Following her instructions they spread some to each of the four directions, naming the mountains in each direction, and saying, “Grow in North Mountain, grow in West Mountain, etc.” Tsichtinako said to them, “These are going to be tall trees; from them you will get logs. Later you will build houses and will use these.” They asked if that was all that was going to grow on the mountains, and Tsichtinako said, “No, there are many other seeds left in your baskets. You have seeds of trees which are going to yield food. You will find dyai’its (pinon tree), se¯’isha (kind of cedar), hapani (oak, acorn) and maka’yawi (walnut).” She again instructed them what to do and taught them the prayer to use, which was: “From now on, grow in this mountain and yield fruit which will be used as food. Your places are to be in the mountains. You will grow and be useful.” When everything had been done well, Tsichtinako told (them) that there were many smaller seeds left in the baskets and she gave a name to each, telling them to fill the rest of the land. These seeds were planted on every one of the four mountains and in the rest of the world. Tsichtinako spoke to the sisters again and told them, “You still have seeds in your baskets which you will know as scuts’o¯ibewi (wild fruits). These trees you will grow around you and care for.” But they mistook the instructions and instead of instructing them to grow nearby, they named the mountains, and that is where they grew. But there were also some that grew close around. It is not known how long they had to wait for these things to happen, but it was a very long time. They noticed that the wild plants grew very fast and produced much fruit, but Tsichtinako had not told them whether or not to eat these, so they left them alone. They saw that there were still seeds and images in their baskets, and asked Tsichtinako how many more kinds there were. Tsichtinako, said there were yet many other seeds, which would also be important food. They would grow quickly and easily and she named them squash and beans. They were instructed to act with them as with the other seeds, and these also grew into plants. After

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a time, when they were ripe, Tsichtinako pointed out the parts of the plants which they were to use as food. Iatiku later asked Tsichtinako, “What remains in my basket?” and she was answered, “You have still many animals; these will be multiplied to populate the mountains.” And as the two grew larger, they required more food. Tsichtinako saw this and told them that they were now to bring to life larger animals. She said they would find in their baskets cottontails, jackrabbits, antelope, and water deer. They were told to give life to these animals and to send them into the open plains. Everything was done as before, and when they killed the animals for food they were always careful to pray to their father as before. As they again asked Tsichtinako what remained in their baskets, Tsichtinako said, “You have images of the still bigger game. You will find deer, elk, mountain sheep, and bison.” Iatiku asked where these animals were to be told to live and Tsichtinako told them that the elk and deer were to live in the lower mountains and the mountain sheep higher and in the rougher places. The bison, however, were to live on the plains. They followed the instructions and gave life to these animals and told them to go to these places to live and multiply. They again tried all these different animals for food. Their flesh was very good and always they prayed to Uchtsiti before tasting them. In Nautsiti’s basket there were many more things left than in Iatiku’s. Nautsiti was selfish and hoarded her images, but Iatiku was ready to let her seeds and images be used. She was more interested in seeing things grow. They again asked what remained, and Tsichtinako replied, “You will find lion, wolf, wildcat and bear. These are strong beasts; they are going to use as food the same game that you also use. There is now game enough for them.” When all these had been selected they were brought to life in the same manner as before. The sisters again asked what was in their baskets, and they were told, “You will find birds which will fly in the air. These birds win also use small game for their food. You will find in the basket the eagles and the hawks.” Tsichtinako pointed these out to them and they brought them to life. The birds flew up into the high mountains and over the plains. The sisters told the birds to use small game for food, and again Iatiku asked what was in the basket. Tsichtinako pointed out smaller birds, which would populate the country, each living in a different kind of region. They were then given life, as the animals before them. The birds were of many and bright colors, some were blue. The wild turkey was among them and they were instructed to tell it not to fly easily like the others. They were told to tell these birds that their food was to be the different seeds on the mountains and the plains. And all these, animals were sampled for food after they had been given life. Again Iatiku asked what remained in the baskets, because she found things there that were thorny. Tsichtinako told them their

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The Southwest | Origin of the Apaches

names. They were the various cacti and were said to be very good for food. But Tsichtinako explained that most were intended for animals to eat. All these were planted as before and tried for food, and they found that some tasted good. After they asked again what was left, Tsichtinako pointed out to them that there were still fish, water snakes, and turtles, of which there were many kinds of each. They gave life to them as before and told them all to live in the water as instructed. Tsichtinako pointed out several that were to be used for food. They tried them all for food, and they found that some were good, and others poor, but offered prayers to all and gave thanks to Uchtsiti. So it happened that many animals came alive in the world and they all increased.

ORIGIN OF THE APACHES Tradition Bearer: Laforia Source: Russell, Frank. “Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 253–54. Date: ca. 1898 Original Source: Jicarilla Apache (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

The following myth varies from “When the World Was Formed” (Bourke 1890, 209–12), also a Jicarilla narrative. Differences in the “same” sacred narrative when related by different tradition bearers is not unusual in those cultures in which there are “competing” myths owned by different lineages, clans, or holy persons. Although there are references to physical features of the Jicarilla world and the deification of wind, the primary concern of this narrative is on human relations ranging from the evil caused by witchcraft to the scattering of the original people into the various Apache bands and distinct languages associated with each. The emergence of the people from an underground world may result from the influence of the neighboring Pueblo cultures (compare this myth to “Origin of Acoma,” p. 7).

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I

n the under-world, Un-go-ya-yen-ni, there was no sun, moon, or light of any kind, except that emanating from large eagle feathers which the people carried about with them. This method of lighting proved unsatisfactory, and the head men of the tribe gathered in council to devise some plan for lighting the world more brightly. One of the chiefs suggested that they make a sun and a moon. A great disk of yellow paint was made upon the ground, and then placed in the sky. Although this miniature creation was too small to give much light, it was allowed to make one circuit of the heavens ere it was taken down and made larger. Four times the sun set and rose, and four times it was enlarged, before it was “as large as the earth and gave plenty of light.” In the underworld dwelt a wizard and a witch, who were much incensed at man’s presumption, and made such attempts to destroy the new luminaries that both the sun and the moon fled from the lower world, leaving it again in darkness, and made their escape to this earth, where they have never been molested, so that, until the present time, they continue to shine by night and by day. The loss of the sun and moon brought the people together, that they might take council concerning the means of restoring the lost light. Long they danced and sang, and made medicine. At length it was decided that they should go in search of the sun. The Indian medicine men caused four mountains to spring up, which grew by night with great noise, and rested by day. The mountains increased in size until the fourth night, when they nearly reached the sky. Four boys were sent to seek the cause of the failure of the mountains to reach the opening in the sky, through which the sun and moon had disappeared. The boys followed the tracks of two girls who had caused the mountains to stop growing, until they reached some burrows in the side of the mountain, where all trace of the two females disappeared. When their story was told to the people, the medicine-men said, “You who have injured us shall be transformed into rabbits, that you may be of some use to mankind; your bodies shall be eaten,” and the rabbit has been used for food by the human race down to the present day. All then journeyed to the tops of the mountains, where a ladder was built that reached the aperture in the sky or roof of the underworld. The badger was then sent out to explore the earth above; the messenger soon returned, and reported water everywhere except around the margin of the opening. The legs of the badger were covered with mud, which accounts for their dark color at the present day. Four days later, the turkey was sent to see if the waters had subsided. The turkey reported no land yet to be seen above. As the turkey came in contact

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The Southwest | Origin of the Animals

with the foam of the flood surrounding the opening, his tail became wet and heavy; in shaking this he scattered filmy drops upon his wings, and that is why the feathers of the turkey to the present day present an iridescent play of colors. Then the Wind came to the anxious people and said, “If you will ask me to help you, I will drive back the water for you.” Thus the first prayers came to be addressed to the Wind, which yet remains a powerful deity. When the Wind had rolled back the waters to the limits of the present ocean, the Indians began to ascend the ladder; four times the ladder broke with them, and four times it was replaced by a new one. All the people reached the new world except one old woman, too old and infirm to climb the ladder, who said to them: “I do not wish to leave the land of my youth. Go your way and leave me here; you will come back to join me when you die. You have forgotten one thing; you will soon discover what it is.” For four days after their emergence no one could sleep; then the people remembered the warning of the old woman, and two boys were sent down to the under-world to learn what it was that had been forgotten. The old woman said in reply to their question, “You forgot to take lice with you; without them you cannot sleep.” She took two black ones from her hair and two white ones from her body, saying, “These will be all you will need, for they will increase night and day.” So it has happened that the Apaches sleep well to this day because they harbor these parasites upon their bodies. So well had the Wind performed his task of drying up the waters, that none remained for the people to drink; but prayers addressed to that deity were answered by the appearance of the present springs and rivers. The few lakes that occur in the Apache country are remnants of the primeval ocean. All the inhabitants of the earth were then Apaches, but the Cheyennes and Utes were soon created from willows. The supreme god, Yi-na-yes-gon-i, directed the people westward; as they journeyed, small parties became separated, and settled by the wayside. These were given different names and languages.

ORIGIN OF THE ANIMALS Tradition Bearer: La Foria Source: Russell, Frank. “Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 259–61.

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Date: ca. 1898 Original Source: Jicarilla Apache (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

The myth “Origin of the Animals” resumes the narrative of the creation of the Jicarilla world where “Origin of the Apaches” (p. 17)—also performed by La Foria—left off, because while the latter is concerned with the creation of the first physical state of the cosmos by deities and culture heroes, this tale turns to human efforts to secure the game animals needed to survive through magic and guile. Just as human cleverness obtained access to game, however, human peevishness destroyed the short-lived harmony between man and animals.

W

hen the Apaches emerged from the under-world, they traveled southward on foot for four days. They had no other food than the seeds of two plants from which they made a sort of flour by grinding between stones. When they camped for the fourth time, one of the tipis stood somewhat apart from the others. While the owner and his wife were absent from this lodge, a Raven brought a bow and a quiver of arrows, and hung them upon the lodge poles. The children within took down the quiver, and found some meat in it; they ate this, and at once became very fat. When the mother returned, she saw the grease on the hands and cheeks of the children, and was told how the food had been obtained. The woman hastened to her husband with the tale. Marveling at the appearance of the children, the people gathered to await the reappearance of the Raven, which subsisted upon such remarkable food. When the Raven found the food had been stolen from the quiver, he flew away toward the eastward; his destination was a mountain just beyond the range of vision of the Indians. A bat, however, followed the flight of the Raven, and informed them where the Raven had alighted. That night, a council of the whole tribe was held, and it was decided that they should go to the home of the Raven, and try to obtain from him the food which had wrought such a miraculous change in those who had partaken of it. At the end of four days they came to a place where a large number of logs were lying in irregular heaps. Many ravens were seen, but they avoided the Indians, and

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The Southwest | Origin of the Animals

no information could be obtained from them. At one point they discovered a great circle of ashes where the ravens were accustomed to cook their meals. Again a council was held, and they talked over the problem of how to spy upon the ravens, and learn whence they obtained the precious animal food. That night the medicine men transformed a boy into a puppy, and concealed him in the bushes near the camp. After the Indians had departed, next morning the ravens came, as is their habit, to examine the abandoned camp. One of the young ravens found the puppy, and was so pleased with it that he exclaimed, “This shall be my puppy!” When he carried home his prize his parents told him to throw it away. He begged permission to keep it, but agreed to give it up if the puppy winked when a splinter of burning wood was waved before its eyes. As the puppy possessed much more than canine intelligence, it stared during the test without the quiver of an eye-lid. So the young raven won consent to keep the puppy, which he placed under his own blanket, where it remained until evening. At sunset the puppy peeped from his cover, and saw an old raven brush aside the ashes of the fireplace, and take up a large flat stone which disclosed an opening beneath; through this he disappeared, but arose again with a buffalo, which was killed and eaten by the ravens. For four days the puppy remained at the camp of the ravens, and each evening he saw a buffalo brought up from the depths and devoured. Satisfied that he had discovered the source from which the ravens derived their food, the puppy resumed the form of a boy on the morning of the fifth day, and, with a white eagle feather in one hand and a black one in the other, descended through the opening beneath the fireplace, as he had seen the ravens do. In the under-world in which he found himself he saw four buffaloes. He placed the white eagle-feather in the mouth of the nearest Buffalo, and commanded it to follow him, but the Buffalo told him to go on to the last of the four and take it. This the boy tried to do, but the fourth Buffalo sent him back to the first, in whose mouth the boy again thrust the feather, declaring it to be the king of animals. He then returned to the world above, followed by all the animals at present upon the surface of the earth, except those specially created later, such, for example, as the horse and aquatic animals. As the large herd of animals passed through the hole, one of the ravens awoke, and hastened to clap down the stone covering the opening, but he was too late to prevent their escape. Seeing that they had passed from his control into that of man, he exclaimed, “When you kill any of these animals you must at least leave their eyes for me.”

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Attended by the troop of beasts of many species, the boy followed the track made by the departing Apaches. On the site of their first camp he found a fire stick or poker of which he inquired, “When did my people leave here?” “Three days ago,” was the reply. At the next camping-place was an abandoned ladder of which he asked, “When did my people leave here?” “Two days ago,” replied the ladder. Continuing his journey the boy soon reached the third camping-place, where he questioned a second fire stick, and learned that the people had been gone but one day. At the fourth camp another ladder answered his question, with the news that the Indians had left there that morning. That evening he overtook them and entered the camp, the herd of animals following him like a flock of sheep. One old woman who lived in a brush lodge became vexed at the deer, which ate the covering of her rude shelter. Snatching up a stick from the fire, she struck the deer over the nose, to which the white ashes adhered, causing the white mark, which we see on the nose of that animal at the present time. “Hereafter you shall avoid mankind; your nose will tell you when you are near them,” said she. Thus terminated the brief period of harmony between man and the beast; they left the camp at once, going farther each day, until on the fourth they disappeared from sight. That night the Apaches prayed for the return of the animals, that they might use them for food, and that is why animals approach nearer the camps now at night than at any other time. They never come very close, because the old woman told them to be guided by their noses and avoid the Indians.

ORIGIN OF FIRE Tradition Bearer: Laforia Source: Russell, Frank. “Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 261–62. Date: ca. 1898 Original Source: Jicarilla Apache (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

Fox is given the role of culture hero in the following myth. In contrast to Coyote, who plays a similar role in “When the World Was Formed”

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The Southwest | Origin of Fire

(Bourke 1890, 209–12), Fox maintains more of the qualities of trickster. He tries to acquire the cry and flying ability of the geese, but is unable to exercise sufficient restraint to do so. The inventiveness, coupled with deceit fueled by curiosity—is a cross-cultural combination in trickster figures—allows him to successfully steal fire. His theft, however, seems little more than a prank in contrast to other mythological fire-stealers, such as the Greek Prometheus.

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t that early day the trees could talk, but the people could not burn them, as they were without fire. Fire was at length obtained through the instrumentality of the Fox. One day Fox went to visit the geese whose cry he wished to learn. They promised to teach him, but it would be necessary for him to accompany them in their flights, in order to receive instruction. They gave him wings with which to fly, but cautioned him not to open his eyes while using them. When the geese rose in flight Fox flew with them. As darkness came on, they passed over the enclosure where the fireflies lived. Some gleams from their flickering fires penetrated the eyelids of Fox, causing him to open his eyes. His wings at once failed to support him, and he fell within the walls of the corral in which were pitched the tents of the fireflies. Two flies went to see the fallen Fox, who gave each a necklace of juniper berries to induce them to tell him where he could pass the wall that surrounded them. The fireflies showed Fox a cedar tree that would bend down at command and assist anyone to pass over the wall. In the evening Fox went to the spring where the fireflies obtained water, and found colored earths suitable for paint, with which he gave himself a coat of white. Returning to the camp, he told the fireflies that they ought to have a feast; they should dance and make merry, and he would give them a new musical instrument. They agreed to his proposal, and gathered wood for a great campfire, which they ignited by their own glow. Before the ceremonies began, Fox tied shreds of cedar bark to his tail, and then made a drum, the first ever constructed, which he beat for some time. Tired of beating the drum, he gave it to one of the fireflies and moved nearer the fire, into which he thrust his tail, in opposition to the advice of those about him, who said it would surely burn.

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“I am a medicine-man,” said Fox, “and my tail will not burn.” However, he kept a close watch upon it, and when the bark was burning well he said, “It is too warm for me here; stand aside and let me go where it is cooler.” Fox ran away with tail blazing, followed by the fireflies, who cried, “Stop, you do not know the road; come back.” Straight to the cedar-tree Fox ran, and called, “Bend down to me, my tree, bend down.” The tree lifted him out of the enclosure, and on he ran, still pursued by the fireflies. As he passed along, the brush and wood on either side was ignited by the sparks, which fell from the burning cedar, and fire was widely spread over the earth. Fox became fatigued from running, and gave the firebrand to the hawk, which carried it on, and finally delivered it to the brown crane. This bird flew far southward, but not so far but that one tree was not reached, and it will not burn to this day. The fireflies pursued Fox to his burrow and informed him that, as punishment for having stolen fire from them and spread it abroad over the land, he should never be permitted to use it himself.

HOW SHEEP AND HORSES AND BURROS CAME TO THE ZUNI Tradition Bearer: Tsatiselu Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Pueblo Indian Folk-tales, Probably of Spanish Provenience.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 245–55. Date: ca. 1918 Original Source: Zuni Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

This is an extraordinary narrative that mixes plot elements of the European ordinary folktale, such as a cruel father-in-law and the reversal of fortune on the part of the protagonist, with Native American traditional beliefs like Kolowisi the water serpent who lives in and protects underground springs, the cornmeal road from Zuni ritual, and the magical use of the deer heart. An appropriately Pueblo moral about the

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The Southwest | How Sheep and Horses and Burros Came to the Zuni

virtue of dedication and hard work is substituted for the European “happily ever after” conclusion. The opening of the tale with “Sonachi” is a formulaic introduction for Zuni tales.

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onachi long ago, in the village of Heshshotoula, the son of a priest married a girl of another village. After they were married, he saw that her moccasins were all worn out, so he told her he would make her a new pair. After he had finished one for her left foot, she put it on to see if it fitted. She kept it on. With it on, she went down the hill to sit down. Over at Alahohankwi Kyatolunnapkwi lived a Water Serpent who stole all the girls he could. Says he to himself, “Hey! There lives a girl married to the son of a priest, and I see her alone. I am going to get her.” So he stretches himself, and lands by the side of the girl, who was sitting down; and he says, “I have come after you.” She asks, “Where do you live?” He says, “Just over the way. I will bring you back in a little while.” She did not want to go with him, but the Water Serpent said, “You must go, I won’t go without you.” The girl said, “How am I to go?” He told her to get on his back and shut her eyes. She got on his back and shut her eyes, and the Water Serpent stretched himself, and they reached his home. He told her to open her eyes. “We are here. You wanted to come, so you will have to stay, although you have on just one moccasin.” The Water Serpent puts a chair in the middle of the room, and the girl sits down. The Water Serpent wraps him-self around her so his face is near hers, and they sit there and talk. The husband finished the other shoe, and waited for his wife to come in. She did not come. He asks, “Where is the elder sister?” The younger sister says, “I don’t know.” They all went out to look for her. They found where she had sat down, but she was nowhere to be seen. The young man says, “To-morrow I will go and search for her. Maybe I shall find her or die.” The next morning his mother gave him a bundle of meal, and he started out towards the east; and he prayed, “I am going out to find my wife, and I want you to show me the way.” He sprinkled the meal, and it made a road before him, and he followed it. He went on until noon, when he sat down to eat his lunch. While he was eating, a big eagle from his home by the ocean, saw him sitting there; and he said to himself, “I wonder who that can be! It must be the

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husband of the girl who was stolen by the Water Serpent. He must be looking for her. I will fly down and see him.” So the eagle flew to where the young man sat, and said, “Konotewananate.” The man said, “Ketsanishi.” The eagle asked, “Why are you sitting here alone and so sad?” The young man replied, “I am hunting for my wife; someone stole her yesterday.” The eagle said, “Don’t be sad! You are on the right road, and you will find her. This road leads to the ocean, and she is in the home of the Water Serpent. He is the one that stole her from you. You keep on this road; and when you get there, don’t do anything until I come; then I will tell you what to do. You will be on the road four days.” “But my lunch is about all gone,” replied the young man. The eagle said, “Never mind! You will be taken care of.” Then the eagle flew back to his home. The young man went on until night. He rested, and he went on the next day and the next, and he went on until the morning of the fourth day. He went on until he came to a place of sand, and he sat down and ate the last of his lunch. Then he went on until night. He reached the side of the ocean, and he said, “This must be the place.” He sat down by a large tree. When he hears the flapping of wings, he says to himself, “You are coming. Who else can it be?” The eagle alighted at his feet. He says, “My child, have you come?” “Yes. Is this the place?” “Yes. Is your lunch all gone?” “Yes.” The eagle says, “I have brought you something to eat;” and he gave the young man something like a deer-heart, saying, “After you eat this, you will never want for anything to eat.” While the young man was eating, the eagle by his magic took the young man’s heart out and put in its place the heart of a Negro. The eagle says, “My child, your wife is here, but you are not to have her yet. You are to go towards the east; and whatever you find to do, you are to do without asking any questions. When it becomes dark, wherever you are, you are to spend the night, whether you are in a house or out of doors in the woods. Then, when you are tired of wandering around, you are to come back to this place, and I will see you again.” So the eagle flew back to his home. The young man went on for a while; and he looked down at his clothes, and they had become rags, and he had been turned into a ragged Mexican. He went on until the sun went down. He sat down in a grassy place, and said, “I will stay here for the night.”

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He looked around, and up out of the ground plates of food appeared; and he said, “This must be for me.” So he ate; and when he had enough, the things went back into the ground. When he got sleepy, he turned around, and he saw a bed before him; and he said, “This must be for me. This is what the eagle meant when he said that I would be taken care of.” He lay down and went to sleep. Next morning he woke up and built a fire; and his bed had gone away, and his breakfast was before him. He ate, and then went on until he got to where Ley had his sheep. He got to a little knoll, and looked down and saw the sheep and the herder. Says he to him-self, “I wonder whose sheep these are! There are only a few. They must belong to Ley. But last year the country was full of Ley’s sheep, of his cattle, horses, and burros, and now there is only a small herd left. I wonder what became of them! I will talk to the herder.” He goes up to the herder, and says, “How are you?” And the herder looks up, and sees a very ragged man standing there, and he says, “Who are you, and where are you from?” The young man says, “I am just going about the country.” The herder asks, “What are you doing? Do you work?” The young man says, “Yes, I do any-thing I find to do. Whose sheep are these?” The herder says, “They belong to Ley.” The young man asks, “Are you working for Ley?” The herder says, “Yes, but my time is up, and I am just waiting for the overseer to find someone to take my place. Won’t you help me to-morrow? The overseer will be here, and maybe he will let you take my place.” They spent the night with each other. The next day the overseer says to Ley, “The herder’s time is up. Who is to take his place?” Ley says, “I do not know. You had better go and see him, and maybe he will stay a while longer.” The overseer hitches up the team and goes to the camp. When he gets there, he sees two men sitting there. “I wonder who the other man is! I never saw him before,” says he to himself. He drives up, and says, “Halloo! How are you?” “We are well,” they answer. The overseer says, “Who is this man, and where is he from?” “He came yesterday,” says the herder. The overseer asks the Zuni, “Where are you from?” The Zuni says, “I am from the west. I am just working at anything I find to do.” “Will you work for us?” asks the overseer. “Yes, I will.”

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“All right!” says the overseer. “But you must not go on the side of the hill where the ocean is. You can graze everywhere but on that side.” “All right! I will do what you say.” The overseer and the herder got into the buggy and went back to Ley’s house. The Zuni took the sheep out to graze; and after a while he saw another man like himself, a man all in rags, coming towards him. When the man got near, the Zuni said, “Who are you, and where did you come from?” The man said, “This way am I come. I do anything I find to do.” “All right!” says the Zunii. “You are to call me ‘elder brother,’ and you are to be my younger brother. To-morrow Ley’s overseer will be here, and maybe he will let you help me.” The next day the overseer comes, and sees the other man, and asks who he is; and the Zuni says, “My younger brother, and he wants to help me.” “All right!” says the overseer. “He may help; but you must not go near the ocean, for that is where Ley lost all his sheep.”—“We won’t go near there,” they replied. The overseer went home, and the two herded until night. The next morning the elder brother says, “Younger brother, you are to herd the horses and cattle, and I will herd the sheep.” And the Zuni, by his magic heart, caused a big horse, saddle, and cowboy clothes, to appear a little ways from them. And as the other man turned around, he saw them, and he said, “Elder brother, whose horse is that standing there?” And the elder brother said, “It is yours. That is the horse and clothes that you are to use in herding Ley’s cattle and horses. You can’t herd in those rags. So go get the horse and bring him here, and take off those rags and put on the other clothes.” The younger brother did as he was told, and he got on the horse and rode away after the cattle. After he had gone, the elder brother turned the sheep out; and says he to himself, “I am going over the way they told me not to go, to see why it is that they do not want me to go over there.” He goes over the hill, and he sees nothing but water. He says to himself, “I can’t do anything alone. I shall have to have someone to help me. [He, having the magic heart, saw where all Ley’s herds had gone to.] So I shall have to call on my father Cougar to help me.” He calls to the cougar; and he comes and he says, “My child, why have you called me?” The elder brother says, “Water Serpent has been killing all of Ley’s sheep, cattle, and horses, and I want you to help. When I go into the water and he starts after me, I want you to grab him.”—“All right!” says the cougar. The young man takes

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off his clothes, sprinkles the meal, and goes into the water. Water Serpent sees him, and makes a leap at him. Before he gets to the man, the cougar grabs him by the jaws and begins to drag him out. When he drags him out, Ley’s sheep begin to come out of Water Serpent’s stomach, all that had been eaten months before. He kept pulling at him, and all the sheep came; then the burros with herder’s packs on their backs came out; then the cattle began to come. He was just about half way out, when the cougar said, “I am getting tired. I can’t hold any longer.” So the man said, “Turn him loose.” So he let go, and Water Serpent went back into the water. They looked around, and the whole place was full of sheep and cattle. The elder brother calls to his younger brother to come and get the cattle and put them with the others. The younger brother says, “Whose are these?” The elder brother says, “They are ours. They belong to Ley.” The younger brother took the cattle and put them with the others. The elder brother says, “See, my father. Look around for the biggest sheep you can find, kill it, and take it home, so you can eat it and be strong, for to-morrow we are to fight again. They are not all out yet.” The cougar catches a big sheep and goes home. Next day the younger brother takes the cattle out to graze, and the elder brother takes his sheep and goes where they told him not to. He calls to his father Cougar to come. He comes, and says, “My child, konotewananate.” “Ketsanishi, father,” says he. “We are to fight again.” And he pulls his clothes off and goes into the water. Water Serpent sees him; and just about the time he is going to eat the young man, the cougar grabs him by the jaws and begins to pull him out. When he is half way out, the sheep, cattle, burros, and horses come out. “I am getting tired,” says the cougar. “I can’t hold him any longer.” “Turn him aloose,” the man says. So the cougar turns him loose, and he goes back into the water. The man tells the cougar to catch another sheep, so that he can have a good meal and be ready for a fight again the next day. He catches one and goes home. The elder brother takes his sheep and goes back to the corral; but there are so many, they can’t all get into it. The whole country was full of sheep, cattle, burros, and horses. The men ate their supper and went to bed. The next day the overseer came; and he saw a fine horse saddled, and a man with nice clothes on, and the place full of herds. He asks, “Whose horse is this, and whose sheep, cattle, and horses are these?” And the elder brother says, “They are Ley’s. Go and see if they are his. You know those that were lost.” The overseer went and looked at them; and he comes back, and says, “Where did all these come from? Most of them were killed long ago.”

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them rattling the dishes, getting ready their dinner. When it was ready, they were asked to eat. After they had gotten through eating, they came into the room where Ley, his wife, and the overseer were sitting. They were asked to sit down. After they sat down, Ley says, “Because of you we have all of our stock back, and we are as well off as we were before. I have four rooms filled with gold and silver. Maybe I shall have enough to pay you. Tell me how much you want. Name your price.” The elder brother says, “We do not want any money. All I want is the handkerchief of your eldest daughter.” Ley says, “Are you crazy? If that is all you want, you may have it.” He says to the overseer, “Go into the other room and ask the elder sister to give it to you.” He goes into the other room and asks the elder sister for it; and she laughs, and says, “He wants it. Give it to him.” And she hands him her handkerchief. He takes it and gives it to the elder brother, who takes it and puts it in his pocket, with an end sticking out. Ley turns to the other and asks what he wants; and he says, “I want the gold cup that the younger sister drinks out of.” The overseer goes into the ether room and tells the younger sister that he wants her gold cup. She gives it to him, and says, “If that is all he wants, let him have it.” He takes the cup and gives it to the younger brother. They both rose, and said, “We have got all the pay we want. We are going.” They went out. Ley and his family did not know what to think. Four days the two men wandered around in the streets, and at night they would sleep in Ley’s chicken-coop with the chickens. Ley sent word out that in four days he wanted all the young men from everywhere to come to his place, and his daughters would choose from the crowd two men whom they would marry. On the fourth day the Americans, Mexicans, and all were there from everywhere. Ley asked if all were there, and they said, “Yes.” The two girls were sitting on two gold chairs on a porch that had been built for them, and the men were all to pass before them. When all was ready, the men passed by, and no one was selected. The girls would not have any of them. None were left but the two herders. “Come,” says the elder brother, “let’s try! Maybe we shall be chosen.” They went; and as they passed by the nice-looking men, the men said, “Look at those two ragged men! Do they think they will be chosen after all we fine ones have been refused?” But they did not heed anyone; and when they got to where the sisters were, both the sisters rose, and said to the two men, “You are our choice. You have our handkerchief and cup in your pockets. Come, let’s go into the house!” They went into the house and told their father they had chosen these two.

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Ley was angry, and said, “No, I don’t want them for sons-in-law. They are too dirty and ragged. They are nothing but herders.” His daughters said, “But for them, you would not have all your stock again. You must think what they have done for you.” Ley told them, “If you want them, you will have to leave my house. You are no longer my daughters. If you want to be poor, go with them.” He turned them all out. They wandered around during the day, and at night they would sleep in Ley’s chicken-house. After a few days Ley wrote them a note, saying, “I have sent for all my soldiers, and you are to be killed.” The elder brother sent a note, saying, “All right! We are not afraid.” The night before they were to be killed, the elder brother selected a big open space where there were no houses, and told the others that they would spend the night there instead of in the chicken-coop. They all lay down; and the men wrapped up in the skirts of their wives and went to sleep. After the others were asleep, the elder brother got up and went to the middle of the place, and called to his father, who lived four worlds below, whose heart he had, and said, “I want soldiers, a big fine house with everything in it, servants and all, plenty of big black horses; for tomorrow we are going to fight, and see who is the stronger.” Then he went back to sleep, for he knew by his magic heart that everything would be as he asked. Next morning, when they woke up, they were in a fine house, with everything they could wish for. They looked out, and the whole place was covered with black soldiers. The wife of the elder brother said, “Whose house and horses and soldiers are these?” And he said, “They are ours. Today your father is to have us killed. I borrowed these soldiers from the underworld. They are not real people. They are raw people (non-Zunis).” At noon Ley’s over-seer brought over a note, saying they were to be killed. They wrote a note back, saying, “All right! We are not afraid, for you can’t kill our soldiers.” After dinner Ley brought out his soldiers and lined them up. There were eight lines. Then the elder brother lined up his, and there were nine lines. The Whites shot at the Blacks, but not one fell. They shot at them until all their shells were shot. Now the Blacks began to shoot at the others; and all Ley’s soldiers were killed, and the people all fled to the hills. No one was left but Ley and his wife. Ley’s sons-in-law went to him, and said, “We have come to kill you ourselves.” “You started the fight, we did not.” Ley said, “My children, if you will spare me, I will become your herdsman. All of my money, houses, stock, and everything are yours if you will not kill me. You will become Ley, and I shall be you.”

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They granted him his wish; and Ley went to herding sheep, and his wife went with him as cook. The two herders became Ley. At night the elder brother told his soldiers to go back to their home. They had done as he wanted them, so they went back. After a few days the elder brother said, “Younger brother, you are to be Ley. I am going back to my home. It is not to be that I live here. I am of another people.” His wife wanted to go with him; but he told her she could not go, that he was to go alone. He started out; and when he had gone a ways, he saw a crowd around a pole. On top of the pole was a shoe with five dollars in gold in it, and whoever climbed up there and got the money won. They all had tried, but no one had climbed up. Someone said, “Here comes a man. Maybe he can climb and get it.” He began to climb; and as he was climbing, he prayed to his fathers of the underworld to help him. He went up and got the shoe, and brought it down. He goes again on his way. As he goes along, he says to himself, “I wonder how far I am from my wife! I should like to see her.” At night he comes to a grassy place, and he builds a fire; and a table with everything to eat appears, and he eats, and the table disappears; and when he gets sleepy, the bed comps up, and he goes to sleep. He gets up and he goes on. After four days, he gets to where his wife is. He sits there and waits for the eagle to come. And while he is sitting there, the eagle flies down to where he is. He says, “My child, have you come? And what is in your mind?” The young man says, “I want my wife. I love her; and if you can help me, I shall be glad.” “All right!” says the eagle. “But you will have to be brave and not give up. I shall go first and see how things are. Maybe she is dead. When you were at Ley’s, the one that stole her you almost killed. He is sick now. When the cougar caught him, she was looking from the window at you.” The eagle went, and found Water Serpent dead. The girl was sitting beside him, for there was no way for her to get out. The eagle went in, and said, “How are you, my child, and how is your husband?” “He is dead,” she said. The eagle said, “Your husband wants you, but how can he come in when you have people here watching you?” She said, “You must find a way to get him here, and then we will try and get away.” So the eagle flew back to where the young man was sitting, and said, “I have come after you to take you to your wife. Get on my back, and we will go.” The young man got on his back and flew to his wife.

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He got off, and he said, “I have come for you. I started a long time ago; but our father, the eagle, changed my road. We will go home.” She says, “All right! I love you, and will do as you say.” He calls all the Zuni from the different directions, and tells them he has come for his wife, and asks if he may take her. They say, “Yes;” and they bring them beads, white and coral and turquoise; and one brought a shule (a blanket made of reeds), and they wrapped the beads in it and gave it to them. They told him he was not to sleep with his wife, and not for anything was he to leave her or the beads alone at any time on his way. “If you do, we shall get her again.” The young man said, “I want the heart of Water Serpent to take with me.” So they gave him the heart with the beads. They got on the back of the eagle, and they flew out of the house of the Water Serpent. The eagle put them down, and told them not to forget what they had been told. They went on their way. At night they did not sleep together, and he slept with the beads under his head. Next day they went on; and the next day, as they were just a little way from home, they stopped; and the man told his wife, “You sit on these beads while I look around some.” She sat down on the beads, and he passed out of sight. Water Serpent, by his magic (aiuchiana), sees her sitting there alone, and he stretches himself and lands where she is, and says, “I have come after you. Your husband does not love you. He did not do as he was told.” And he takes her and the beads back to his home. The young man saw a deer; he killed it, and took out the heart. He made a bundle of the meat. When he went back to where he left his wife, she was not there. Then he remembered what he had been told, and he knew where she had gone. He knew he had done wrong in leaving her alone. The eagle saw him, and he flew to where he was sitting, and said, “How are you?” And the young man said, “I am happy and not happy, for I have lost my wife. I did wrong in leaving her; but I saw a deer and ran after it, and when I came back, she was gone.” “Too bad,” says the eagle, “and you so near home too. What have you on the fire?” And the young man says, “The heart of the deer.” “Give it to me,” says the eagle. And he gave it to him. The eagle kept it a little while, then gave it to him, and said, “Eat it; and when you have eaten it, the heart I gave you will come back to me, and you will have your own heart again. As you go home, whatever you find, know that I have sent it to you. As you go home, you

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The elder brother says, “They did not come from anywhere. We just found them. We know how to herd.” “Thanks,” says the over-seer. “Even if Ley has four rooms filled with gold and silver, maybe he will have enough to pay you; for you have found all of his stock, and made him a rich man again. I will go and tell him; and if he does not believe me, I will bring him, so that he may see for himself. I am going.” After he had gone, the herders sat down and ate. When they got through, the younger brother got on his horse and went after his cattle. The elder brother took his sheep and went to the ocean, and called for his father to come. When he reached there, the elder brother said, “This is our last fight.” He pulled his clothes off and went into the water. Water Serpent leaped at him, but the cougar has him by the jaws, and begins to pull him until he is almost out. The horses all begin to come out; and when all that were in had come out, the young man cried to the cougar to let him go. “His face is so sore, he won’t be able to kill anything else.” The cougar let go, and he went back into the water. While they had been fighting, Ley had come to the camp, and, not finding anyone, started out to hunt them, and met them as they were coming over the hill. They all went back to camp. Ley says, “Thanks, my child! A long time ago Ley had lots of stock, but they most all were killed. Where did you get all these sheep?” The young man says, “I did not get them anywhere. I just found them. Look around for yourself and see if they are all here.” Ley looks, and finds that they are all back again, and says, “You must know how to herd. Thanks! Maybe I shall have enough to pay you. No matter how much you want, I won’t say no. When is your time up?” “Two days from now,” the young man replies. “All right!” says Ley. “Maybe I can find someone to take your place. We must go now; and when I find someone, I will bring him, and take you back with me.” The next day they found a man to take their place. The next day they took the new herder to the camp; and the two men went back with the overseer, who said, “Maybe Ley can pay you what he owes. We will see when we get there.” Before they reached Ley’s house, the elder brother says, “Younger brother, how is it to be? What are we to ask for?” The younger brother says, “I don’t know. Whatever you say.” The elder brother says, “What do we want with money? I want no money, but I want the handkerchief of his eldest daughter.” The younger brother says, “I want the gold cup the youngest daughter drinks out of.” “All right! That is what we shall ask for.” When they got there, Ley’s overseer set out gold chairs for them to sit on. In the other room they could hear

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The Southwest | Noqoìlpi, the Gambler: A Navajo Myth

will find something. Tomorrow go to the west, the next day go to the south, the next, to the east; and whatever you see, know that I have taken pity on you and sent it.” The eagle flew away, and the young man started on. Pretty soon he saw a flock of sheep; and he said, “This must be what you were going to give me.” He goes behind them and drives them home. Before he gets home, his little sister sees him, and she tells the others that the elder brother is coming and bringing something with him. But they did not believe her. Her father comes out, and sees him, and goes to meet him, and says, “My child, have you come home, and what are these?” His son says, “They are sheep.” “But what are sheep?” he asks. “They are good to eat; and if we are careful, we shall have many. Put them into a corral, and to-morrow you can take them out to graze.” After supper they ask him if he found his wife. He tells all about Ley and where he had been, and how he had almost brought his wife home. But he had not done as he was told, and she was taken back again. “Too bad,” they said. “You did not love her enough to do as you were told. She did right in going back.” The next morning he went out, and he saw a big deer. He killed it. He turned around, and he saw a horse with a saddle on. He went up to it and caught it. He thinks, “This must be what I was to get.” He puts his deer-meat on its back and goes home. His little sister was looking for him, and she says, “Elder brother is coming and leading something.” They go to meet him, and ask what he has. He tells them it is a horse. They ask him what a horse is. He tells them that it is to ride. The next day he went out, and he killed a deer and found a mule. The next day he went out, and he found a burro and brought it home. They had never seen any-thing like them, and they did not know their names. So by the goodness of his father the eagle he became rich. Thus it happens, that if anyone tries hard enough, he will be able to find something. Thus ends the story.

NOQOÌLPI, THE GAMBLER: A NAVAJO MYTH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Matthews, Washington. “Noqoìlpi, the Gambler: A Navajo Myth.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 89–94.

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Date: ca. 1889 Original Source: Navajo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

According to folklorist Washington Matthews, “In the cañon of the Chaco, in northern New Mexico, there are many ruins of ancient pueblos which are still in a fair state of preservation, in some of them entire apartments being yet, it is said, intact. One of the largest of these is called by the Navajos Kintyèl or Kintyèli, which signifies ‘Broad-house.’ It figures frequently in their legends.” These are ruins of dwellings built by the Anasazi who occupied the area from about 1 CE to 1300 CE, farming corn, beans, and squash. There are varied opinions concerning the reasons for the abandonment of the cliff dwellings and the fragmenting of the Anasazi culture; their descendants are probably the modern Zuni Pueblo. Some scholars contend that the Navajo migrated to the area as early as 1000 CE, which would place them in the area before the Anasazi abandonment. At the time of their arrival, the Navajo, like the Apache, were hunters and gatherers. They were strongly influenced by the sedentary Pueblo farmers, which wrought changes in areas such as their means of obtaining subsistence and their religious life. The formulaic use of the number four is common not only in Navajo tradition, but also among the majority of Native American groups. The story of “Noqoìlpi, the Gambler” is a single episode in the Navajo myth of the creation and their migration to the Southwest.

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ome time before, there had descended among the Pueblos, from the heavens, a divine gambler or gambling-god, named Noqoìlpi, or He-who-winsmen (at play); his talisman was a great piece of turquoise. When he came, he challenged the people to all sorts of games and contests, and in all of these he was successful. He won from them, first their property, then their women and children, and finally some of the men themselves. Then he told them he would give them part of their property back in payment if they would build a great house; so when the Navajos came, the Pueblos were busy building in order that they might release their enthralled relatives and

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their property. They were also busy making a racetrack, and preparing for all kinds of games of chance and skill. When all was ready, and four days notice had been given, twelve men came from the neighboring pueblo of Kinçolíj (Blue-house) to compete with the great gambler. They bet their own persons, and after a brief contest they lost themselves to Noqoìlpi. Again a notice of four days was given, and again twelve men of Kinçolíj—relatives of the former twelve—came to play, and these also lost themselves. For the third time an announcement, four days in advance of a game, was given; this time some women were among the twelve contestants, and they too lost themselves. All were put to work on the building of Kintyèl as soon as they forfeited their liberty. At the end of another four days the children of these men and women came to try to win back their parents, but they succeeded only in adding themselves to the number of the gambler’s slaves. On a fifth trial, after four days’ warning, twelve leading men of Blue-house were lost, among them the chief of the pueblo. On a sixth duly announced gambling-day twelve more men, all important persons, staked their liberty and lost it. Up to this time the Navajos had kept count of the winnings of Noqoìlpi, but afterwards people from other pueblos came in such numbers to play and lose that they could keep count no longer. In addition to their own persons the later victims brought in beads, shells, turquoise, and all sorts of valuables, and gambled them away. With the labor of all these slaves it was not long until the great Kintyèl was finished. But all this time the Navajos had been merely spectators, and had taken no part in the games. One day the voice of the beneficent god Qastcèyalçi was heard faintly in the distance crying his usual call “hu`hu`hu`hu`.” His voice was heard, as it is always heard, four times, each time nearer and nearer, and immediately after the last call, which was loud and clear, Qastcèyalçi appeared at the door of a hut where dwelt a young couple who had no children, and with them he communicated by means of signs. He told them that the people of Kinçolíj had lost at game with Noqoìlpi two great shells, the greatest treasures of the pueblo; that the Sun had coveted these shells, and had begged them from the gambler; that the latter had refused the request of the Sun and the Sun was angry. In consequence of all this, as Qastcèyalçi related, in twelve days from his visit certain divine personages would meet in the mountains, in a place that he designated, to hold a great ceremony. He invited the young man to be present at the ceremony, and disappeared. The Navajo kept count of the passing days; on the twelfth day he repaired to the appointed place, and there he found a great assemblage of the gods. There were Qastcèyalçi, Qastcèqogan and his son, Níltci, the Wind, Tcalyèl, the Darkness, Tcàapani, the Bat, Klictsò, the Great Snake, Tsilkàli (a little bird),

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Nasísi, the Gopher, and many others. Beside these, there were present a number of pets or domesticated animals belonging to the gambler, who were dissatisfied with their lot, were anxious to be free, and would gladly obtain their share of the spoils in case their master was ruined. Níltci, the Wind, had spoken to them, and they had come to enter into the plot against Noqoìlpi. All night the gods danced and sang, and performed their mystic rites, for the purpose of giving to the son of Qastcèqogan powers as a gambler equal to those of Noqoìlpi. When the morning came they washed the young neophyte all over, dried him with corn meal, dressed him in clothes exactly like those the gambler wore, and in every way made him look as much like the gambler as possible, and then they counseled as to what other means they should take to out-wit Noqoìlpi. In the first place, they desired to find out how he felt about having refused to his father, the Sun, the two great shells. “I will do this,” said Níltci, the Wind, “for I can penetrate everywhere, and no one can see me;” but the others said, “No, you can go everywhere, but you cannot travel without making a noise and disturbing people. Let Tcalyèl, the Darkness, go on this errand, for he also goes wherever he wills, yet he makes no noise.” So Tcalyèl went to the gambler’s house, entered his room, went all through his body while he slept, and searched well his mind, and he came back saying, “Noqoìlpi is sorry for what he has done.” Níltci, however, did not believe this; so, although his services had been before refused, he repaired to the chamber where the gambler slept, and went all through his body and searched well his mind; but he too came back saying Noqoìlpi was sorry that he had refused to give the great shells to his father. One of the games they proposed to play is called çàka-çqadsàç, or the thirteen chips; it is played with thirteen thin flat pieces of wood, which are colored red on one side and left white or uncolored on the other side. Success depends on the number of chips, which, being thrown upward, fall with their white sides up. “Leave the game to me,” said the Bat; “I have made thirteen chips that are white on both sides. I will hide myself in the ceiling, and when our champion throws up his chips I will grasp them and throw down my chips instead.” Another game they were to play is called nanjoj; it is played with two long sticks or poles, of peculiar shape and construction (one marked with red and the other with black), and a single hoop. A long many-tailed string, called the “turkey-claw,” is secured to the centre of each pole. “Leave nanjoj to me,” said the Great Snake; “I will hide myself in the hoop and make it fall where I please.” Another game was one called tsínbetsil, or push-on-the-wood; in this the contestants push against a tree until it is torn from its roots and falls.

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“I will see that this game is won,” said Nasísi, the Gopher; “I will gnaw the roots of the tree, so that he who shoves it may easily make it fall.” In the game of tcol, or ball, the object was to hit the ball so that it would fall beyond a certain line. “I will win this game for you,” said the little bird, Tsilkáli, “for I will hide within the ball, and fly with it wherever I want to go. Do not hit the ball hard; give it only a light tap, and depend on me to carry it.” The pets of the gambler begged the Wind to blow hard, so that they might have an excuse to give their master for not keeping due watch when he was in danger, and in the morning the Wind blew for them a strong gale. At dawn the whole party of conspirators left the mountain, and came down to the brow of the canyon to watch until sunrise. Noqoìlpi had two wives, who were the prettiest women in the whole land. Wherever she went, each carried in her hand a stick with something tied on the end of it, as a sign that she was the wife of the great gambler. It was their custom for one of them to go every morning at sunrise to a neighboring spring to get water. So at sunrise the watchers on the brow of the cliff saw one of the wives coming out of the gambler’s house with a water jar on her head, whereupon the son of Qastcèqogan descended into the canyon, and followed her to the spring. She was not aware of his presence until she had filled her water-jar; then she supposed it to be her own husband, whom the youth was dressed and adorned to represent, and she allowed him to approach her. She soon discovered her error, however, but deeming it prudent to say nothing, she suffered him to follow her into the house. As he entered, he observed that many of the slaves had already assembled; perhaps they were aware that some trouble was in store for their master. The latter looked up with an angry face; he felt jealous when he saw the stranger entering immediately after his wife. He said nothing of this, however, but asked at once the important question, “Have you come to gamble with me?” This he repeated four times, and each time the young Qastcèqogan said “No.” Thinking the stranger feared to play with him, Noqoìlpi went on challenging him recklessly. “I’ll bet myself against yourself;” “I’ll bet my feet against your feet;” “I’ll bet my legs against your legs;” and so on he offered to bet every and any part of his body against the same part of his adversary, ending by mentioning his hair. In the mean time the party of divine ones, who had been watching from above, came down, and people from the neighboring pueblos came in, and among these were two boys, who were dressed in costumes similar to those worn by the wives of the gambler. The young Qastcèqogan pointed to these and said, “I will bet my wives my against your wives.”

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The great gambler accepted the wager, and the four persons, two women and two mock women, were placed sitting in a row near the wall. First they played the game of thirteen chips. The Bat assisted, as he had promised the son of Qastcèqogan, and the latter soon won the game, and with it the wives of Noqoìlpi. This was the only game played inside the house; then all went out of doors, and games of various kinds were played. First they tried nanjoj. The track already prepared lay east and west, but, prompted by the wind god, the stranger insisted on having a track made from north to south, and again, at the bidding of the Wind, he chose the red stick. The son of Qastcèqogan threw the wheel: at first it seemed about to fall on the gambler’s pole, in the “turkey-claw” of which it was entangled; but to the great surprise of the gambler it extricated itself, rolled farther on, and fell on the pole of his opponent. The latter ran to pick up the ring, lest Noqoìlpi in doing so might hurt the Snake inside; but the gambler was so angry that he threw his stick away and gave up the game, hoping to do better in the next contest, which was that of pushing down trees. For this the great gambler pointed out two small trees, but his opponent insisted that larger trees must be found. After some search they agreed upon two of good size, which grew close together, and of these the wind-god told the youth which one he must select. The gambler strained with all his might at his tree, but could not move it, while his opponent, when his turn came, shoved the other tree prostrate with little effort, for its roots had all been severed by the Gopher. Then followed a variety of games, on which Noqoìlpi staked his wealth in shells and precious stones, his houses, and many of his slaves, and lost all. The last game was that of the ball. On the line over which the ball was to be knocked all the people were assembled: on one side were those who still remained slaves; on the other side were the freedmen and those who had come to wager themselves, hoping to rescue their kinsmen. Noqoìlpi bet on this game the last of his slaves and his own person. The gambler struck his ball a heavy blow, but it did not reach the line; the stranger gave his but a light tap, and the bird within it flew with it far beyond the line, where at the released captives jumped over the line and joined their people. The victor ordered all the shell beads and precious stones and the great shells to be brought forth. He gave the beads and shells to Qastèyalçi, that they might be distributed among the gods; the two great shells were given to the Sun. In the mean time Noqoìlpi sat to one side saying bitter things, bemoaning his fate, and cursing and threatening his enemies: “I will kill you all with the lightning. I will send war and disease among you. May the cold freeze you! May the fire burn you! May the waters drown you!” he cried.

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The Southwest | The Antelope Boy

“He has cursed enough,” whispered Níltci to the son of Qastcèqogan. “Put an end to his angry words.” So the young victor called Noqoìlpi to him, and said, “You have bet yourself and have lost; you are now my slave and must do my bidding. You are not a god, for my power has prevailed against yours.” The victor had a bow of magic power named the Bow of Darkness; he bent this upwards, and placing the string on the ground, he bade his illustrious slave stand on the string; then he shot Noqoìlpi up into the sky as if he had been an arrow. Up and up he went, growing smaller and smaller to the sight till he faded to a mere speck, and finally disappeared altogether. As he flew upwards he was heard to mutter in the angry tones of abuse and imprecation, until he was too far away to be heard; but no one could distinguish anything he said as he ascended. He flew up in the sky until he came to the home of Bekotcic-e, the god who carries the moon, and who is supposed by the Navajos to be identical with the god of the Americans. He is very old, and dwells in a long row of stone houses. When Noqoìlpi arrived at the house of Bekotcic-e, he related to the latter all his misadventures in the lower world and said, “Now I am poor, and this is why I have come to see you.” “You need be poor no longer,” said Bekotcic-e “I will provide for you.” So he made for the gambler pets or domestic animals of new kinds, different than those he had in the Chaco valley; he made for him sheep, asses, horses, swine, goats, and fowls. He also gave him bayeta, and other cloths of bright colors, more beautiful than those woven by his slaves at Kintyèli. He made, too, a new people, the Mexicans, for the gambler to rule over, and then he sent him back to this world again, but he descended far to the south of his former abode, and reached the earth in old Mexico. Noqoìlpi’s people increased greatly in Mexico, and after a while they began to move toward the north, and build towns along the Rio Grande. Noqoìlpi came with them until they arrived at a place north of Santa Fe. There they ceased building, and he returned to old Mexico, where he still lives, and where he is now the Nakài C-igÍni, or God of the Mexicans.

THE ANTELOPE BOY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Lummis, Charles. “The Antelope Boy.” Pages 12–21 in Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories. New York: Century, 1910.

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Date: 1910. Original Source: Isleta Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

The Tiwa of Isleta, like the Acoma (see “Origin of Acoma,” p. 7), developed an agricultural way of life based on raising corn, beans, and squash. The diet provided by these crops was supplemented by hunting, as was the case with Acoma. Eastern, or Rio Grande, Pueblos such as Isleta— unlike the Western Pueblo of Acoma—relied on irrigation for their crops and thus developed a strong village identity and loyalty. The village was divided into halves, called moieties: the Summer People and the Winter People. Each of the moieties had a cacique (principal religious authority) who governed the village’s religious life for half the year. The caciques were elders who were chosen for wisdom, even temperament, and their ability to maintain village harmony. They stood in polar opposition to the witches who play so prominent a role in the following myth. The cigarettes smoked by Antelope Boy to create rain clouds are the equivalent to the pipe that is familiar to other Native American traditions. The power of Antelope Boy comes from both his animal spirit helpers and from his marginal status as a human who was raised by antelopes. This marginality is also an attribute of trickster.

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nce upon a time there were two towns of the Tiwa, called White Village and Yellow Village. A man of White village and his wife were attacked by Apaches while out on the plains one day, and took refuge in a cave, where they were besieged. And there a boy was born to them. The father was killed in an attempt to return to his village for help; and starvation finally forced the mother to crawl forth by night seeking roots to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to her own village, and it was several days before she could return to the cave—only to find it empty. The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure. Just then a Coyote was passing, and heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked it up and carried it across the plain until he came to a herd of antelopes. Among them was a MotherAntelope that had lost her fawn; and going to her the Coyote said: “Here is a poor thing that is left by its people. Will you take care of it?”

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The Mother Antelope, remembering her own baby, with tears said “Yes,” and at once adopted the tiny stranger, while the Coyote thanked her and went home. So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and grew up among them until he was about twelve years old. Then it happened that a hunter came out from White village for antelopes, and found this herd. Stalking them carefully, he shot one with an arrow. The rest started off, running like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as they were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter was much surprised, and, shouldering his game, walked back to the village, deep in thought. Here he told the Cacique what he had seen. Next day the crier was sent out to call upon all the people to prepare for a great hunt, in four days, to capture the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes. While preparations were going on in the village, the antelopes in some way heard of the intended hunt and its purpose. The Mother-Antelope was very sad when she heard it, and at first would say nothing, but at last she called her adopted son to her and said: “Son, you have heard that the people of White village are coming to hunt. But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take you. They will surround us, intending to let all the antelopes escape from the circle. You must follow me where I break through the line, and your real mother will be coming on the northeast side in a white manta (robe). I will pass close to her, and you must stagger and fall where she can catch you.” On the fourth day all the people went out upon the plains. They found and surrounded the herd of antelopes, which ran about in a circle when the hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller, and the antelopes began to break through; but the hunters paid no attention to them, keeping their eyes upon the boy. At last he and his antelope mother were the only ones left, and when she broke through the line on the northeast he followed her and fell at the feet of his own human mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in her arms. Amid great rejoicing he was taken to White village, and there he told the principales (Council of advisors) how he had been left in the cave, how the Coyote had pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had reared him as her own son. It was not long before all the country round about heard of the Antelope Boy and of his marvelous fleetness of foot. You must know that the antelopes never comb their hair, and while among them the boy’s head had grown very bushy. So the people called him Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh (big-headed little boy). Among the other villages that heard of his prowess was Yellow Village, all of whose people “had the bad road.” They had a wonderful runner named Péek’hoo (Deer-foot), and very soon they sent a challenge to White village for a championship race. Four days were to be given for preparation, to make bets,

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and the like. The race was to be around the world. Each village was to stake all its property and the lives of all its people on the result of the race. So powerful were the witches of Yellow Village that they felt safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people of White village were ashamed to decline the challenge. The day came, and the starting-point was surrounded by all the people of the two villages, dressed in their best. On each side were huge piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and all the other property of the people. The runner for the Yellow Village was a tall, sinewy athlete, strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope Boy appeared for the other side, the witches set up a howl of derision, and began to strike their rivals and jeer at them, saying, “We might as well begin to kill you now! What can that little thing do?” At the word “Hái-ko!” (“Go!”) the two runners started toward the east like the wind. The Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but Deer-foot, by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and flew lightly over the lad, saying, “We do this way to each other!” The Antelope Boy kept running, but his heart was very heavy, for he knew that no feet could equal the swift flight of the hawk. But just as he came halfway to the east, a Mole came up from its burrow and said: “My son, where are you going so fast with a sad face?” The lad explained that the race was for the property and lives of all his people; and that the witch-runner had turned to a hawk and left him far behind. “Then, my son,” said the Mole, “I will be he that shall help you. Only sit down here a little while, and I will give you something to carry.” The boy sat down, and the Mole dived into the hole, but soon came back with four cigarettes. Holding them out, the Mole said, “Now, my son, when you have reached the east and turned north, smoke one; when you have reached the north and turn west, smoke another; when you turn south, another, and when you turn east again, another. Go!” The boy ran on, and soon reached the east. Turning his face to the north he smoked the first cigarette. No sooner was it finished than he became a young antelope; and at the same instant a furious rain began. Refreshed by the cool drops, he started like an arrow from the bow. Halfway to the north he came to a large tree; and there sat the hawk, drenched and chilled, unable to fly, and crying piteously. “Now, friend, we too do this to each other,” called the boy-antelope as he dashed past. But just as he reached the north, the hawk—which had become dry after the short rain—caught up and passed him, saying, “We too do this to each other!” The boy-antelope turned westward, and smoked the second cigarette; and at once another terrific rain began. Halfway to the west he again passed the

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hawk shivering and crying in a tree, and unable to fly; but as he was about to turn to the south, the hawk passed him with the customary taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette brought another storm, and again the antelope passed the wet hawk halfway, and again the hawk dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him as he was turning to the east for the homestretch. Here again the boyantelope stopped and smoked a cigarette—the fourth and last. Again a short, hard rain came, and again he passed the water-bound hawk halfway. Knowing the witchcraft of their neighbors, the people of White village had made the condition that, in whatever shape the racers might run the rest of the course, they must resume human form upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn, which was in sight of the goal. The last wetting of the hawk’s feathers delayed it so that the antelope reached the hill just ahead; and there, resuming their natural shapes, the two runners came sweeping down the home stretch, straining every nerve. But the Antelope Boy gained at each stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt confident that he was their champion, and again began to push, and taunt, and jeer at the others. But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy turned to mourning. The people of White village burned all the witches upon the spot, in a great pile of corn; but somehow one escaped, and from him come all the witches that trouble us to this day. The property of the witches was taken to White village; and as it was more than that village could hold, the surplus was sent to Isleta, where we enjoy it to this day; and later the people themselves moved here. And even now, when we dig in that little hill on the other side of the pool, we find charred corncobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people of the Yellow Village.

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THE HERO TWINS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Lummis, Charles. “The Hero Twins.” Pages 206–14 in Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories. New York: Century, 1910. Date: 1910. Original Source: Isleta Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

According to Charles Lummis, who collected the following myth at Isleta Pueblo, the narrative was imported into the Tiwa village by Keres (Quères) speakers from the villages of Laguna and Acoma that were given refuge from crop failure brought on by a drought and stayed to become residents of Isleta. The Hero Twins are prominent figures in Pueblo myth as tricksters and culture heroes. Similar twin figures, in fact, are found throughout Native North America (see, for example, the Wichita “The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars,” p. 212). For further discussion of Isleta religious life, see “The Antelope Boy” (p. 41).


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áw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee, as the Hero Twins are named in Quères, had the Sun for a father. Their mother died when they were born, and lay lifeless upon the hot plain. But the two wonderful boys, as soon as they were a minute old, were big and strong, and began playing. There chanced to be in a cliff to the southward a nest of white crows; and presently the young crows said: “Nana, what is that over there? Isn’t it two babies?” “Yes,” replied the Mother-Crow, when she had taken a look. “Wait and I will bring them.” So she brought the boys safely, and then their dead mother; and, rubbing a magic herb on the body of the latter, soon brought her to life. By this time Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee were sizable boys, and the mother started homeward with them. “Now,” said she when they reached the edge of the valley and could look across to that wondrous rock whereon stands Acoma, “go to yonder town, my sons, for that is where live your grandfather and grandmother, my parents; and I will wait here. Go ye in at the west end of the town and stand at the south end of the council-grounds until someone speaks to you; and ask them to take you to the Cacique, for he is your grandfather. You will know his house, for the ladder to it has three uprights instead of two. When you go in and tell your story, he will ask you a question to see if you are really his grandchildren, and will give you four chances to answer what he has in a bag in the corner. No one has ever been able to guess what is in it, but there are birds.” The Twins did as they were bidden, and presently came to Acoma and found the house of the old Cacique. When they entered and told their story, he said: “Now I will try you. What is in yonder bag?” “A rattlesnake,” said the boys. “No,” said the Cacique, “it is not a rattlesnake. Try again.” “Birds,” said the boys. “Yes, they are birds. Now I know that you are truly my grandchildren, for no one else could ever guess.” And he welcomed them gladly, and sent them back with new dresses and jewelry to bring their mother. When she was about to arrive, the Twins ran ahead to the house and told her father, mother, and sister to leave the house until she should enter; but not knowing what was to come, they would not go out. When she had climbed the big ladder to the roof and started down through the trap-door by the room-ladder, her sister cried out with joy at seeing her, and she was so startled that she fell from the ladder and broke her neck, and never could be brought to life again. Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee grew up to astounding adventures and achievements. While still very young in years, they did very remarkable things; for they had a miraculously rapid growth, and at an age when other boys were

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The Southwest | The Hero Twins

toddling about home, these Hero Twins had already become very famous hunters and warriors. They were very fond of stories of adventure, like less precocious lads; and after the death of their mother they kept their grandmother busy telling them strange tales. She had a great many anecdotes of a certain ogre-giantess who lived in the dark gorges of the mountains to the South, and so much did Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee hear of this wonderful personage— who was the terror of all that country—that their boyish ambition was fired. One day when their grandmother was busy they stole away from home with their bows and arrows, and walked miles and miles, till they came to a great forest at the foot of the mountain. In the edge of it sat the old Giant-woman, dozing in the sun, with a huge basket beside her. She was so enormous and looked so fierce that the boys’ hearts stood still, and they would have hidden, but just then she caught sight of them, and called: “Come, little boys, and get into this basket of mine, and I will take you to my house.” “Very well,” said Máw-Sahv, bravely hiding his alarm. “If you will take us through this big forest, which we would like to see, we will go with you.” The Giant-woman promised, and the lads clambered into her basket, which she took upon her back and started off. As she passed through the woods, the boys grabbed lumps of pitch from the tall pines and smeared it all over her head and back so softly that she did not notice it. Once she sat down to rest, and the boys slyly put a lot of big stones in the basket, set fire to her pitched hair, and hurriedly climbed a tall pine. Presently the Giant-woman got up and started on toward home; but in a minute or two her head and manta were all of a blaze. With a howl that shook the earth, she dropped the basket and rolled on the ground, grinding her great head into the sand until she at last got the fire extinguished. But she was badly scorched and very angry, and still angrier when she looked in the basket and found only a lot of stones. She retraced her steps until she found the boys hidden in the pine-tree, and said to them: “Come down, children, and get into my basket, that I may take you to my house, for now we are almost there.” The boys, knowing that she could easily break down the tree if they refused, came down. They got into the basket, and soon she brought them to her home in the mountain. She set them down upon the ground and said: “Now, boys, go and bring me a lot of wood, that I may make a fire in the oven and bake you some sweet cakes.” The boys gathered a big pile of wood, with which she built a roaring fire in the adobe oven outside the house. Then she took them and washed them very carefully, and taking them by the necks, thrust them into the glowing oven and sealed the door with a great, flat rock, and left them there to be roasted.

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But the Trues were friends of the Hero Twins, and did not let the heat harm them at all. When the old Giant-woman had gone into the house, Máw-Sahv and Oó-yah-wee broke the smaller stone that closed the smoke-hole of the oven, and crawled out from their fiery prison unsinged. They ran around and caught snakes and toads and gathered up dirt and dropped them down into the oven through the smoke-hole; and then, watching when the Giant-woman’s back was turned, they sneaked into the house and hid in a huge clay jar on the shelf. Very early in the morning the Giant-woman’s baby began to cry for some boy-meat. “Wait till it is well cooked,” said the mother; and hushed the child till the sun was well up. Then she went out and unsealed the oven, and brought in the sad mess the boys had put there. “They have cooked away to almost nothing,” she said; and she and the Giant-baby sat down to eat. “Isn’t this nice?” said the baby; and Máw-Sahv could not help saying, “You nasty things, to like that!” “Eh? Who is that?” cried the Giant-woman, looking around till she found the boys hidden in the jar. So she told them to come down, and gave them some sweet cakes, and then sent them out to bring her some more wood. It was evening when they returned with a big load of wood, which MáwSahv had taken pains to get green. He had also picked up in the mountains a long, sharp splinter of quartz. The evening was cool, and they built a big fire in the fireplace. But immediately, as the boys had planned, the green wood began to smoke at a dreadful rate, and soon the room was so dense with it that they all began to cough and strangle. The Giant-woman got up and opened the window and put her head out for a breath of fresh air; and Máw-Sahv, pulling out the white-hot splinter of quartz from the fire, stabbed her in the back so that she died. Then they killed the Giant-baby, and at last felt that they were safe. Now the Giant-woman’s house was a very large one, and ran far back into the very heart of the mountain. Having got rid of their enemies, the Hero Twins decided to explore the house; and, taking their bows and arrows, started boldly down into the deep, dark rooms. After traveling a long way in the dark, they came to a huge room in which corn and melons and pumpkins were growing abundantly. On and on they went, till at last they heard the growl of distant thunder. Following the sound, they came presently to a room in the solid rock, wherein the lightning was stored. Going in, they took the lightning and played with it awhile, throwing it from one to the other, and at last started home, carrying their strange toy with them. When they reached Acoma and told their grandmother of their wonderful adventures, she held up her withered old hands in amazement. And she was nearly scared to death when they began to play with the lightning, throwing it around the house as though it had been a harmless ball, while the thunder rumbled till it shook

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The Southwest | The Hero Twins

the great rock of Acoma. They had the blue lightning, which belongs in the West; and the yellow lightning of the North; and the red lightning of the East; and the white lightning of the South; and with all these they played merrily. But it was not very long till Shée-wo-nah, the Storm-King, had occasion to use the lightning; and when he looked in the room where he was wont to keep it, and found it gone, his wrath knew no bounds. He started out to find who had stolen it; and passing by Acoma he heard the thunder as the Hero Twins were playing ball with the lightning. He pounded on the door and ordered them to give him his lightning, but the boys refused. Then he summoned the storm, and it began to rain and blow fearfully outside; while within the boys rattled their thunder in loud defiance, regardless of their grandmother’s entreaties to give the Storm-King his lightning. It kept raining violently, however, and the water came pouring down the chimney until the room was nearly full, and they were in great danger of drowning. But luckily for them, the Trues were still mindful of them; and just in the nick of time sent their servant, Tee-oh-pee, the Badger, who is the best of diggers, to dig a hole up through the floor; all the water ran out, and they were saved. And so the Hero Twins outwitted the Storm-King. South of Acoma, in the pine-clad gorges and mesas, the world was full of Bears. There was one old She-Bear in particular, so huge and fierce that all men feared her; and not even the boldest hunter dared go to the south—for there she had her home with her two sons. Máw-sahv and Oó-yah-wee were famous hunters, and always wished to go south; but their grandmother always forbade them. One day, however, they stole away from the house, and got into the canyon. At last they came to the SheBear’s house; and there was old Quée-ah asleep in front of the door. Máw-sahv crept up very carefully and threw in her face a lot of ground chile, and ran. At that the She-Bear began to sneeze, ah-hútch! Ah-hútch! She could not stop, and kept making ah-hútch until she sneezed herself to death. Then the Twins took their thunder-knives and skinned her. They stuffed the great hide with grass, so that it looked like a Bear again, and tied a buckskin rope around its neck. “Now,” said Máw-sahv, “We will give our grandma a trick!” So, taking hold of the rope, they ran toward Acoma, and the Bear came behind them as if leaping. Their grandmother was going for water; and from the top of the cliff she saw them running so in the valley, and the Bear jumping behind them. She ran to her house and painted one side of her face black with charcoal, and the other side red with the blood of an animal; and, taking a bag

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of ashes, ran down the cliff and out at the Bear, to make it leave the boys and come after her. But when she saw the trick, she reproved the boys for their rashness—but in her heart she was very proud of them.

HOW THE TWINS OF WAR AND CHANCE FARED WITH THE UNBORN-MADE MEN OF THE UNDERWORLD Tradition Bearer: Waí-hu-si-wa Source: Cushing, Frank Hamilton. “A Zuni Folk-tale of the Underworld.” Journal of American Folklore 5 (1892): 49–56. Date: 1892 Original Source: Zuni (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

The Zuni like the people of Acoma are dryland farmers with an extremely sophisticated system of metaphysics. According to their view, the universe was generated from the darkness by the action of light, which generated haze. In their philosophy, beings pass through stages of “becoming,” analogous to the growth of plants from green to mature to the finished state of death. As the following myth notes, the phases are cyclical and circular, like the seasons on which the Zuni depend: the first stage of infancy and the last stages of the elderly are identical in many features. Similarly, as folklorist Frank Hamilton Cushing writes, the “unmade were misty inversions of humans” and other “Made” beings such as the Twins of War and Chance.

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t seems—so the words of the grandfathers say—that in the Underworld were many strange things and beings, even villages of men, long ago. But the people of those villages were unborn—made—more like the ghosts of the dead than ourselves, yet more like our-selves than are the ghosts of the dead, for as

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The Southwest | How the Twins Fared with the Men of the Underworld

the dead are more finished of being than we are, they were less so, as smoke, being hazy, is less fine than mist, which is filmy; or as green corn, though raw is soft, like cooked corn which is done (like the dead), both softer than ripe corn which, though raw, is hardened by age (as we are of meat). And also, these people were, you see, dead in a way, in that they had not yet begun to live; that is, as we live, in the daylight fashion. And so, it would seem, partly like ourselves, they had bodies, and partly like the dead they had no bodies, for being unfinished they were unfixed. And whereas the dead are like the wind, and take form from within of their own wills, these people were really like the smoke, taking form from without of the outward touching of things, even as growing and unripe grains and fruits do. Well, in consequence, it was passing strange what a state they were in! Bethink ye! Their persons were much the reverse of our own, for wherein we are hard, they were soft, pliable. Wherein we are most completed, they were most unfinished; for not having even the organs of digestion, whereby we fare lustily, food in its solidity was to them destructive, whereas to us it is sustaining. When, therefore, they would eat, they dreaded most the food itself, taking thought not to touch it, and merely absorbing the mist thereof. As fishes fare chiefly on water and birds on air, so these people ate by gulping down the steam and savor of their cooked things whilst cooking or still hot; then they threw the real food away, forsooth! Now, the Twain Little-ones, Á-hai-yú-ta and Má-tsai-lé-ma, were ever seeking scenes of contention; for what was deathly and dreadful to others was lively and delightful to them; so that cries of distress were ever their calls of invitation, as to a feast or dance is the call of a priest to us. On a day when the world was quiet, they were sitting by the side of a deep pool. They heard curious sounds coming up through the waters, as though the bubbles were made by moans of the waters affrighted. “Uh!” said the elder. “What is that?” The younger brother turned his ear to the ground and listened. “There is trouble down there, dire trouble, for the people of the Underworld are shrieking war-cries like daft warriors and wailing like murder-mourners. What can be the matter? Let us descend and see!” “Just so!” said Á-hai-yú-ta. Then they covered their heads with their cord-shields—turned upside down—and shut their eyes and stepped into the deep pool. “Now we are in the dark,” said they, “like the dark down there. Well then, by means of the dark let us go down,” for they had wondrous power, had those twain; the magic of in-knowing-how-thought had they.

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Down like light through dark places they went; dry through the waters; straight toward that village in the Underworld. “Whew! The poor wretches are already dead,” said they, and rotting,—for their noses were sooner accustomed to the dark than their eyes which they now opened. “We might as well have spared ourselves the coming, and stayed above,” said Á-hai-yú-ta. “Nay, not so,” said Ma-tsai-1e-ma. “Let us go on and see how they lived, even if they are dead.” “Very well,” said the elder; and as they fared toward the village they could see quite plainly now; for they had made it dark—to themselves—by shutting their eyes in the daylight above, so now they made it light—to themselves—by opening their eyes in the darkness below, and simply looking. It was their way, you know! “Well, well!” said Má-tsai-lé-ma as they came nearer and the stench doubled. “Look at the village; it is full of people; the more they smell of carrion the more they seem alive!” “Yes!” exclaimed Á-hai-yú-ta. “But look here! It is food we smell; cooked food, all thrown away, as we throw away bones and corncobs because they are too hard to eat and profitless withal! What, now, can be the meaning of this?” “What, indeed! Who can know save by knowing,” replied the younger brother. “Come, let us lie low and watch.” So they went very quietly close to the village, crouched down and peered in. Some people inside were about to eat. They took fine food steaming hot from the cooking pots and placed it low down in wide trenchers; then they gathered around and sipped in the steam and savor with every appearance of satisfaction; but they were as chary of touching the food or of letting the food touch them as though it were the vilest of refuse. “Did you see that?” queried the younger brother. “By the delight of Death, but...” “Hist!” said the elder. “If they are people of that sort, feeding upon the savor of food, then they will hear the suggestions of sounds better than the sounds themselves, and the very Demon Fathers would not know how to fare with such people or to fight them, either!” Hah! But already the people had heard! They set up a clamor of war, swarming out to seek the enemy; as well they might, for who would think favorably of a sneaking stranger under the shade of a house wall watching the food of another! Why, dogs growl even at their own offspring for the like of that!

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The Southwest | How the Twins Fared with the Men of the Underworld

“Where? Who? What is it?” cried the people, rushing hither and thither like ants in a shower. “Hah! There they are! There! Quick!” said they, pointing to the Twain who were cutting away to the nearest hillock. And immediately they fell to singing their war-cry as they ran headlong toward the two, and then they began shouting: “Tread them both into the ground! Smite them both! Fan them out!” But the Twain laughed and quickly drew their arrows and loosed them amongst the crowd. Pit! Tsok! Sang the arrows through and through the people, but never a one fell! “Why, how now is this?” cried the elder brother. “We’ll club them, then!” said Má-tsai-lé-ma, and he whipped out his war-club and sprang to meet the foremost, whom he pummelled well and sorely over the head and shoulders. Yet the man was only confused (he was too soft and unstable to be hurt); but another, rushing in at one side, was hit by one of the shield-feathers and fell to the ground like smoke driven down under a hawk’s wing! “Hold, brother, I have it! Hold!” cried Á-hai-yú-ta. Then he snatched up a bunch of dry plume-grass, and leaped forward. Swish! Two ways he swept the faces and breasts of the pursuers. Lo! Right and left they fell like bees in a rainstorm, and quickly sued for mercy, screeching and running at the mere sight of the grass straws. “You fools,” cried the brothers. “Why, then, did ye set upon us? We came for to help you and were merely looking ahead as becomes strangers in strange places, when you come running out like a mess of mad flies. Call us coyotesneaks, do you? But there! Rest fearless! We hunger; give us to eat.” So they led the Twain into the court within the town, and quickly brought steaming hot food for them. They sat down and began to blow the food to cool it; whereupon the people cried out in dismay: “Hold! Hold, ye heedless strangers; do not waste precious food like that! For shame!” “Waste food? Ha! This is the way we eat!” said they; and clutching up huge morsels they crammed their mouths full and bolted them almost whole. The people were so horrified and sickened at sight of this, that some of them sweated furiously, which was their way of vomiting, whilst others, stouter of thought, cried, “Hold! Hold! Ye will die; ye will surely sicken and die if the stuff do but touch ye!” “Ho! Ho!” cried the two, eating more lustily than ever. “Eat thus and harden yourselves, you poor, soft things you!” Just then there was a great commotion. Everyone rushed to the shelter of the walls and houses, shouting to them to leave off and follow quickly.

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“What is it?” asked they, looking up and all around. “Woe, woe! The gods are angry with us this day and blowing arrows at us. They will kill you both! Hurry!” A big puff of wind was blowing over, scattering slivers and straws before it; that was all! “Brother,” said the elder, “this will not do. These people must be taught to eat and be hardened. But let us take a little sleep first, then we will look to this.” They propped themselves up against a wall, set their shields in front of them, and fell asleep. Not long after they awakened suddenly. Those strange people were trying to drag them out to bury them, but were afraid to touch them now, for they thought them dead stuff—more dead than alive. The younger brother punched the elder with his elbow, and both pretended to gasp, then kept very still. The people succeeded at last in rolling them out of the court, like spoiling bodies, and were about to mingle them with the refuse when they suddenly let go and set up a great wail, shouting, “War! Murder!” “How now?” cried the two, jumping up. Whereupon the people stared and chattered in greater fright than ever at seeing the dead seemingly come to life! “What’s the matter, you fool people?” “Akaa! Kaa!” cried a flock of jays. “Hear that!” said the villagers. “Hear that, and ask ‘What’s the matter?’ The jays are coming; whoever they light on dies!—run you two! Aii! Murder!” And they left off their standing as though chased by demons. On one or two of the hindmost some jays alighted. They fell dead as though struck by lightning! “Why, see that said the elder brother, “these people die if only birds light on them!” “Hold on there!” said the younger brother. “Look here! You fearsome things.” So they pulled hairs from some scalplocks they had, and made snares of them, and whenever the jays flew at them, caught them with the nooses until they had caught everyone. Then they pinched them dead and took them into the town and roasted them. “This is the way,” said they, as they ate the jays by morsels. And the people crowded around and shouted “Look! Look! Why they eat the very enemy—say nothing of refuse!” And although they dreaded the couple they became very conciliatory and gave them a fit place to bide in. The very next day there was another alarm. The two ran out to learn what was the matter. For a long time they could see nothing, but at last they met some people fleeing into the town. Chasing after them was a cooking pot with earrings of onions. It was boiling furiously and belching forth hot wind and steam and spluttering mush in every direction. If ever so little of the mush hit the people they fell over and died.

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The Southwest | How the Twins Visited the Sun

“He!” cried the Twain. “As if food-stuff were made to make people afraid!” Whereupon they twitched the earrings off the pot and ate them with all the mush that was in the pot, which they forthwith kicked to pieces vigorously. Then the people crowded still closer around them, wondering to one another that they could vanquish all enemies by eating them with such impunity, and they begged the Twain to teach them how to do it. So they gathered a great council of the villagers, and when they found that these poor people were only half finished, they cut vents in them (such as were not afraid to let them), and made them eat solid food, by means of which they were hardened and became men of meat then and there, instead of having to get killed after the manner of the fearful, and others of their kind beforetime, in order to ascend to the daylight and take their places in men born of men! And for this reason, behold! A newborn child may eat only of wind-stuff until his cord of viewless sustenance has been severed, and then only by sucking milk, or soft food first and with much distress. Behold! And we may now see why like new-born children are the very aged; childish withal—not only toothless too, but also sure to die of diarrhea if they eat ever so little save the soft parts and broths of cooked food. For are not the babes new-come from the Shi-u-na (hazy, steam-growing) world; and are not the aged about to enter the Shi po-lo-a (mist-enshrouded) world, where cooked food unconsumed is never needed by the fully dead?

HOW THE TWINS VISITED THE SUN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fewkes, J. Walter. “The Destruction of the Tusayan Monsters.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 136–37. Date: ca. 1895 Original Source: Hopi (Arizona) National Origin: Native American

The Hopi was a farming culture that relied on rainfall to grow crops of corn, beans, and squash. Given the fact that they were at the mercy of forces of nature, great energy was devoted to religious ceremonies that

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literally caused natural acts such as rainfall to occur. Religious life was developed through the religious societies and clans headed by strong females. Spider-Woman, the mother of the Twins, was an especially powerful female figure. Hopi witches who were believed to be possessed of “two hearts” were traced back to mythic times and Spider-Woman (or Grandmother Spider as she is sometimes called) who brought both death and witchcraft into the lives of the people.

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he Twins lived with Spider-Woman, their mother, on the west side of Mt. Taylor, and desired to see the home of their father. Spider-Woman gave them as a charm a kind of meal, and directed that when they met the guardians of the home of the Sun, to chew a little and spurt it upon them. The Twins journeyed far to the sunrise where the Sun’s home is entered through a canon in the sky. There Bear, Mountain Lion, Snake, and “Canyon Closing” keep watch. The sky is solid in this place, and the walls of the entrance are constantly opening and closing, and would crush any unauthorized person who attempted passing through. As the Twins approached the ever fierce watchers, the trail lay along a narrow way; they found it led them to a place on one side of which was the face of a vertical cliff, and on the other a precipice which sunk sheer to the Below (Underworld). An old man sat there, with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up close to his chin. When they attempted to pass, the old man suddenly thrust out his legs, trying to knock the passers over the cliff. But they leaped back and saved themselves, and in reply to a protest the old man said his legs were cramped and he simply extended them for relief. Whereupon the hero remembered the charm which he had for the southwest direction, and spurted it upon the old man and forced the malignant old fellow to remain quite still with legs drawn up, until the Twins had passed. They then went on to the watchers, guardians of the entrance to the Sun’s house, whom they subdued in the same manner. They also spurted the charm on the sides of the cliff, so that it ceased its oscillation and remained open until they had passed. These dangers being past, they entered the Sun’s house and were greeted by the Sun’s wife, who laid them on a bed of mats. Soon Sun came home from his trip through the underworld, saying, “I smell strange children here; when men go away their wives receive the embraces of strangers. Where are the children whom you have?” So she brought the Twins to him, and he put them in a flint

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The Southwest | How the Twins Killed the Giant Elk

oven and made a hot fire. After a while, when he opened the door of the oven, the Twins capered out laughing and dancing about his knees, and he knew that they were his sons.

HOW THE TWINS KILLED THE GIANT ELK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fewkes, J. Walter. “The Destruction of the Tusayan Monsters.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 135–36. Date: ca. 1895 Original Source: Hopi (Arizona) National Origin: Native American

Moving beyond the role of mischievous young tricksters that they embodied in “How the Twins Visited the Sun” (p. 57), the Hopi Twins mature into culture heroes in this myth. They do so by ridding the land of a monster and giving Chipmunk its distinctive markings.

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reat Elk was one day lying down in a valley near Mount Taylor (one of the San Francisco mountains), and the Twins went out against him. Mole met them and said, “Do not encounter him, for he is mighty, and may kill you; wait here, and I will help you.” Mole then excavated four chambers in the earth, one below the other, and made the Twins remain in the upper one. He dug a long tunnel, and coming up under Elk, plucked a little soft hair from over his heart, at which Elk turned his head and looked down, but Mole said, “Be not angry, I only want a little soft down to make a bed for my children.” So Elk allowed him to continue the plucking. But Mole took away enough fur to leave the skin quite bare over the heart. He returned to the Twins and told them what he had done. Then each Twin threw his lightning, and wounded Elk, who sprang to his feet, and charged them, but the Twins concealed themselves in the upper chamber, and when Elk tried to gore them. His horns were not long enough; again he

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charged, and thrust his horns downward, but the Twins had safely retreated to the second chamber; again he tried to reach them, but they were safe in the third room. They retreated to the fourth chamber, and when Elk made another attempt he fell dead. Chipmunk hurried to them, and after thanking the Twins said he had come to show them how to cut up the monster’s body, which with his sharp teeth he soon accomplished. One of the Twins thanked Chipmunk, and stooping he dipped the tips of the first two fingers of his right hand in Elk’s blood, and, drawing them along the body of Chipmunk, made on it the marks that he still bears.

HOW TIYO PUNISHED MAN-EAGLE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Fewkes, J. Walter. “The Destruction of the Tusayan Monsters.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 132–37. Date: ca. 1895 Original Source: Hopi (Arizona) National Origin: Native American

Tiyo, in the following Hopi myth, is not a culture hero like the Twins. Although he serves one of the functions associated with the culture hero when he destroys the monster Man-Eagle, he does so only because he has enlisted powerful allies. The familiar figure Spider-Woman shows her abilities as a shape-shifter (a trait associated with witches), as well as her knowledge of medicines such as “charm flour” (bewitched corn meal). In contrast to his role in European culture, Mole has been shown to be an important character in Pueblo mythology. He is an underground hunter who demonstrates talents as a trickster as he works behind the scenes in Tiyo’s physical contests against Man-Eagle. The ravages of Man-Eagle extended over the whole earth and afflicted all people. He carried off their women and maids, and took them to his home in the sky, where he slept with them as he wished during four nights and then devoured them.

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The Southwest | How Tiyo Punished Man-Eagle

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he Youth, while on his way to the San Francisco mountains, met at the foothills the Pinon Maids, dressed in mantles of pinon bark and grass. There likewise he found Spider-Woman and Mole. After they had greeted him and bade him be seated, they inquired where he was going. He replied that Man-Eagle had carried off his bride, and that he sought to bring her back. “I will aid you,” said Spider-Woman, and told the Pinon Maids to gather pinon gum, wash it, and make a garment in exact imitation of the flint arrowhead armor, which Man-Eagle is said to wear. The Pinon Maids bathed themselves, gathered and washed the gum, and made the desired garment for Spider-Woman, who gave it with charm flour to the Youth. Then she changed herself into a spider, so small as to be invisible, and perched on the Youth’s right ear, that she might whisper her advice. Mole led the way to the top of the mountains, but the Pinon Maids remained behind. When they reached the summit, Eagle swooped down; they got on his back, and he soared aloft with them until he was tired; Hawk came close by, they were transferred to his back, and he carried them still higher in the sky. When he was weary, Gray Hawk took them and mounted the heavens with them, until he could go no farther, and Red Hawk received the burden; thus for an immense distance upward they flew, until the adventurers reached a passageway through which the Youth, Spider-Woman, and Mole passed, and saw the white house in which Man-Eagle lived. Spider-Woman advised the Youth, before mounting the ladder that led into this house, to pluck a handful of sumac berries and give them to Lizard, who received them with thanks, chewed them, and gave him back the cud. The ladder of the house had for each rung a sharp stone like a knife, which would lacerate the hands and feet of anyone who attempted to climb it. The Youth rubbed these sharp edges with the chewed berries and instantly they became dull, and he was able to climb the ladder without cutting himself. Upon entering the house of Man-Eagle, one of the first objects which met his eye was the fabulous flint arrow-head garment hanging on a peg in a recess, and he at once exchanged it for his own, the imitation which the Pinon Maids had manufactured. Glancing into another recess, he saw Man-Eagle and his lost wife. He called out to her that he had come to rescue her from the monster, and she replied that she was glad, but that he could not do so as no one ever left the place alive. Youth replied, “Have no fear; you will soon be mine again.” So powerful was Spider-Woman’s charm that it prevented Man-Eagle from hearing the conversation, but he soon awoke and put on the imitation flint garment without detecting the fraud. He then for the first time became aware of the Youth’s presence, and demanded what he wished.

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“I have come to take my wife home” responded the hero. Man-Eagle said, “We must gamble to decide that, and you must abide the consequences, for if you lose I shall slay you,” to which the Youth agreed. Man-Eagle brought out a huge pipe, larger than a man’s head, and having filled it with tobacco gave it to the hero, saying: “you must smoke this entirely out, and if you become dizzy or nauseated, you lose.” So the Youth lit the pipe and smoked but exhaled nothing. He kept the pipe aglow and swallowed all the smoke, and felt no ill effect, for he passed it through his body into an underground passageway that Mole had dug. Man-Eagle was amazed, and asked what had become of the smoke. The Youth going to the door showed him great clouds of dense smoke issuing from the four cardinal points, and the monster saw that he had lost. But Man-Eagle tried a second time with the hero. He brought out two deer antlers, saying: “We will each choose one and he who fails to break the one he has chosen loses.” The antler that he laid down on the northwest side was a real antler, but that on the southeast was an imitation made of brittle wood. SpiderWoman prompted the Youth to demand the first choice, but Man-Eagle refused him that right. After the Youth had insisted four times, Man-Eagle yielded, and the hero chose the brittle antler and tore its prongs asunder, but Man-Eagle could not break the real antler, and thus lost a second time. Man-Eagle had two fine large pine-trees growing near his house, and said to the hero, “You choose one of these trees and I will take the other, and whoever plucks one up by the roots shall win.” Now Mole had burrowed under one of them, and had gnawed through all its roots, cutting them off, and had run through his tunnel and was sitting at its mouth, peering through the grass anxious to see Youth win. The hero, with the help of his grandmother, chose the tree that Mole had prepared, and plucked it up, and threw it over the cliff, but Man-Eagle struggled with the other tree and could not move it, so he was unhappy in his third defeat. Then Man-Eagle spread a great supply of food on the floor and said to Youth that he must eat all at one sitting. Tiyo (the Youth) sat and ate all the meat, bread, and porridge, emptying one food basin after another, and showed no sign of being satisfied before all was consumed; for Mole had again assisted him, and dug a large hole below to receive it, and the Youth was a winner the fourth time. Man-Eagle then made a great wood-pile and directed Tiyo to sit upon it, saying he would ignite it, and that if the Youth were unharmed he would submit himself to the same test. The Youth took his allotted place, and Man-Eagle set fire to the pile of wood at the four cardinal points, and it speedily was ablaze. The arrowheads of which the flint armor was made were coated with ice, which

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The Southwest | Elfego Baca

melted so that water trickled down and prevented Youth from being burnt, and all the woodpile was consumed, leaving Tiyo unharmed. The monster was filled with wonder, and grieved very much when he saw Youth making another great pile of wood. Still, thinking that he wore his fireproof suit, he mounted the woodpile, which Youth lit at the four cardinal points. The fuel blazed up, and as soon as the fire caught the imitation garment of gum, it ignited with a flash and the monster was consumed. At the prompting of Spider-Woman Tiyo approached the ashes, took the charm in his mouth and spurted it over them, when suddenly a handsome man arose. Then SpiderWoman said to him, “Will you refrain from killing people, will you forsake your evil habits?” Man-Eagle assented with a fervent promise, and the Youth rejoicing ran to his wife, embraced her and set free all the captive women wives of the Hopi and other peoples, of whom there were many. Eagle and Hawk carried them to the earth.

ELFEGO BACA Tradition Bearer: Elfego Baca Source: Smith, Janet. “Interview of Elfego Baca.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1936 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: Mexican American

Elfego Baca (1865–1945) was a lawman, gunfighter, lawyer, and politician at various points in his life. The Frisco Affair mentioned in passing refers to an incident that took place in Frisco, New Mexico, when Baca was nineteen. Baca was deputized by the local deputy sheriff to arrest a gang of cowboys that had turned murderous. The ensuing events included a gunfight, an arrest, and the death of one of the men whose horse fell on top of him during the excitement. The arrested cowboy was fined for disorderly conduct, and later Baca was compelled to hold off a reputed eighty cowboys from a refuge in a shack for thirty-six hours. He

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survived by lying flat on the dirt floor, dug below ground level. From this legendary event his reputation grew for the next sixty years. In 1958, Disney Studios made a film of his life.

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never wanted to kill anybody,” Elfego Baca told me, “but if a man had it in his mind to kill me, I made it my business to get him first.”

Elfego Baca belongs to the six-shooter epoch of American history. Those were the days when hard-shooting Texas cowboys invaded the territory of New Mexico, driving their herds of longhorns over the sheep ranges of the New Mexicans, for whom they had little liking or respect. Differences were settled quickly, with few words and a gun. Those were the days of Billy the Kid, with whom Elfego, at the age of seventeen, made a tour of the gambling joints in Old Albuquerque. In the words of Kyle Crichton, who wrote Elfego Baca’s biography, “the life of Elfego Baca makes Billy the Kid look like a piker.” Harvey Ferguson calls him “a knight-errant from the romantic point of view if ever the six-shooter West produced one. And yet Mr. Baca is not a man who lives in his past. “I wonder what I can tell you,” he said when I asked him for pioneer stories. “I don’t remember so much about those things now. Why don’t you read the book Mr. Crichton wrote about me?” He searched about his desk and brought out two newspaper clippings of letters he had written recently to the Albuquerque Journal on local politics. The newspaper had deleted two of the more outspoken paragraphs. Mr. Baca was annoyed. I tried to draw Mr. Baca away from present day polities to stories of his unusual past, but he does not talk readily about himself, although he seemed anxious to help me. Elfego Baca is a kindly courteous gentleman who is concerned to see that his visitor has the coolest spot in the room. He brought out books and articles that had been written about him, but he did not seem inclined to reminiscing and answered my questions briefly. “Crichton tells about that in his book” or “Yes, I knew Billy the Kid.” Finally I asked him at random if he knew anything about the famous old Manzano Gang which I had frequently seen mentioned in connection with Torrance County. He replied that he broke up that gang when he was Sheriff of Socorro County.

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“There were ten of them,” he said, “and I got nine. The only reason I didn’t get the other one was that he got over the border and was shot before I got to him. They used to go to a place near Belen and empty the freight cars of grain and one thing and another. Finally they killed a man at La Jolla. Contreros was his name. A very rich man with lots of money in his house, all gold. I got them for that. They were all convicted and sent to the Pen.” Mr. Baca settled back in his chair and made some remark about the late Senator Cutting whose photograph stood on his desk. I persisted about the Manzano Gang. “I wish you’d tell me more about that gang. How you got them, and the whole story.” “Well,” he said, “after that man Contreros was shot, they called me up at my office in Socorro and told me that he was dying. I promised to get the murderers in forty-eight hours. That was my rule. Never any longer than forty-eight hours.” Mr. Baca suspected certain men, but when a telephone call to Albuquerque established the fact that they had been in that city at the time of the killing, his next thought was of the Manzano Gang. Accompanied by two men, he started out on horseback in the direction of La Jolla. Just as the sun was rising; they came to the ranch of Lazaro Cordova. They rode into the stable and found Cordova’s son-in-law, Prancasio Saiz already busy with his horse. “Good morning,” said Elfego, “what are you doing with your horse so early in the morning?” Saiz replied that he was merely brushing him down a little. Mr. Baca walked over and placed his hand on the saddle. It was wet inside. The saddle blanket was steaming. He looked more closely at the horse. At first sight it had appeared to be a pinto, white with brown spots. Mr. Baca thought he remembered that Saiz rode a white horse. “What happened to that horse?” he asked. The man replied that the boys had had the horse out the day before and had painted the spots on him with a kind of berry that makes reddish-brown spots. “Just for a joke,” he added. “Where’s your father-in-law?” asked Mr. Baca. Saiz said that his father-in-law had gone the day before to a fiesta at La Jolla and had not returned. “I understand you’re a pretty good shot,” said Sheriff Baca. “You’d better come along, and help me round up some men I’m after for the killing of Contreros in La Jolla.” Saiz said that he had work to do on the ranch, but at the insistence of Mr. Baca, he saddled his horse and rode out with the three men.

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“About as far as from here to the station,” went on Mr. Baca, “was a graveyard where the gang was supposed to camp out. I rode over to it and found where they had lunched the day before. There were sardine cans and cracker boxes and one thing and another. Then I found where one of them had had a call to nature. I told one of my men to put it in a can. Saiz didn’t know about this, and in a little while he went over behind some mesquite bushes and had a call to nature. After he came back I sent my man over, and by God it was the same stuff—the same beans and red chili seeds! So I put Saiz under arrest and sent him back to the jail at Socorro with one of my deputies, although he kept saying he couldn’t see what I was arresting him for.” Mr. Baca and his other deputy proceeded in the direction of La Jolla. Before long they saw a man on horseback coming toward them. “He was running that horse like everything. When we met I saw that he was a Texan. Doc Something or other was his name. I can’t remember now. But he was a pretty tough man.” “You a Sheriff?” he said to Mr. Baca. “No,” replied Mr. Baca, “no, I’m not a Sheriff. Don’t have nothing to do with the law, in fact. “You’re pretty heavily armed,” remarked the man suspiciously. “I generally arm myself this way when I go for a trip in the country,” answered Baca, displaying his field glasses. “I think it’s safer.” “Well, if you want fresh horses, you can get them at my ranch, a piece down the road,” said the Texan. Mr. Baca figured that this was an attempt to throw him off the trail, so as soon as the Texan was out of sight, he struck out east over the mountains for Manzano. Just as he was entering the village he saw two of the gang coming down the hill afoot leading their horses. He placed them under arrest and sent them back to Socorro with his other deputy. It was about two o’clock in the morning when Mr. Baca passed the Cordova ranch again on his way back. He roused Lazaro Cordova, who had returned from La Jolla by that time, and told him to dress and come with him to Socorro. “The old man didn’t want to come,” said Mr. Baca, “and kept asking what you want with me anyhow?’ I told him that he was under arrest, and on the way to Socorro I told him that unless he and his son-in-law came across with a complete statement about the whole gang, I would hang both of them, for I had the goods on them and knew all right that they were both in on the killing of Contreros. I put him in the same cell with his son-in-law, and told him it was up to him to bring Saiz around. They came through with the statement. I kept on

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catching the rest of the gang, until I had them all. All but the one who got himself shot before I caught up with him.” “If you ever go to Socorro you ask Billy Newcomb, the Sheriff down there now to show you the records. You might see the place on the way down where they buried a cowboy I shot. It’s a little way off the main road though. “That was a long time before I was a real Sheriff. In those days I was a selfmade deputy. I had a badge I made for myself, and if they didn’t believe I was a deputy, they’d better believe it, because I made ’em believe it.” “I had gone to Escondida a little way from Socorro to visit my uncle. A couple of Texas cowboys had been shooting up the town of Socorro. They hadn’t hurt anybody that time. Only frightened some girls. That’s the way they did in those days—ride through a town shooting at dogs and cats and if somebody happened to get in the way—powie!—too bad for him. The Sheriff came to Escondida after them. By that time they were making a couple of Mexicans dance, shooting up the ground around their feet. The Sheriff said to me ‘Baca, if you want to help, come along, but there’s going to be shooting.’” “We rode after them and I shot one of them about three hundred yards away. The other got away—too many cottonwood trees in the way. “Somebody asked me what that cowboy’s name was. I said I didn’t know. He wasn’t able to tell me by the time I caught up with him.” I asked what the Sheriff’s name was, and when Mr. Baca said it was Pete Simpson, I said, “The one you were electioneering for the time of the Frisco affair when you held off about 80 cowboys for over 36 hours.” This is the one of Mr. Baca’s exploits that has been most frequently written about. “Hell, I wasn’t electioneering for him,” he said. “I don’t know where they got that idea. I couldn’t have made a speech to save my life. And I didn’t wear a Prince Albert coat either. They didn’t have such things in this country in those days.” “Is it true that you ate dinner afterward with French and some other men who had been shooting at you, and talked the affair over,” I asked. “I ate dinner with some men afterward but I don’t remember who they were now. I don’t think that man French was there at all, although he must have been in the neighborhood, as he seemed to know all about it. But I don’t remember him. Jim Cook was one that was shooting at me though. He was a pretty tough man, but he came near getting it.” He showed me a photograph that Jim Cook had sent him recently. The picture showed an old man who still looks as though he could not be easily trifled with. It was inscribed “To Elfego Baca in memory of that day at Frisco.” “Did you see the letter that Englishman wrote to Crichton? He wanted to hang me. ‘Why don’t you hang that little Mexican so-and-so?’ he asked. I said,

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‘Why don’t you be the one to do it?’ and pulled my guns, and wooo, he wasn’t so eager. You know I surrendered only on condition that I keep my guns. They placed six guards over me, but they rode 25 steps ahead of me all the way to Socorro. “Those were great old days. Everything is very quiet now, isn’t it?” said Mr. Baca looking up. “I think I’ll run for something this fall, but I don’t know what yet.”

BOOGER RED Tradition Bearer: Mollie Privett Source: Doyle, Elizabeth. “Interview of Mollie Privett.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Texas National Origin: European American

The following oral biography of Samuel Thomas (“Booger Red”) Privett narrated by his widow, Mollie Privett, is composed of legends from Booger Red’s early life and Mrs. Privett’s personal experience narratives after their marriage 1895. The collected tales present a remarkable history of life in the Southwest and on the circus and wild-west show circuit during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The family saga takes Booger Red from his early days on a Texas ranch to his career as an independent performer and as a star in such famous shows as Al G. Barnes Circus, the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus (in its heyday the second largest circus in the world next to the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus), and even Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show.

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t is admitted by all that the movies have produced some wonderful horsemen but the master of them all was never filmed,” so says the old timer in any crowd of rodeo fans. They hold one name over all others as the greatest

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The Southwest | Booger Red

bronc rider that America has ever produced. Few people ever knew his real name which was Samuel Thomas Privett, but his nickname, “Booger Red” was famous and for a quarter of a century he was known to thousands as the greatest master of outlaw horses in America. He was born on a ranch near Dublin, Erath County, Texas, December 29, 1864 and as a youth seemed to possess all the vim, vigor, and vitality that makes the red-head outstanding. At the age of 10 he began riding wild calves on his father’s ranch and by the time he was 12-years of age he was widely known as the Red-Headed Kid Bronc Rider and was already on the road to fame. He was the youngest of a large family and was always trying to imitate some stunt of his older brother’s. In attempting to make his own fireworks on his 13th Christmas as he had seen others do, he and a pal crammed a lot of gun powder into a hole bored into an old tree stump and when it exploded it killed his friend and blew him about twenty feet. His face was hopelessly burned and for six months he did not see daylight. His eyes were cut open three times and his mouth and nose twice. As he was being carried to the hospital in a farm wagon, a small boy friend hopped on the side of the wagon, looked over at Red and thoughtlessly remarked, ‘Gee, but Red is sure a booger now, ain’t he?’ Thus, the famous “Booger Red” nickname, which went with him to his grave. His parents died when he was 15 years old and he started out in the world to make his own way at the job which he loved most, that of breaking wild horses. None were too bad for him to tackle and he made a name for himself in a country where there were plenty of bronc scratchers. By the time he was grown he had saved enough to buy and stock a small ranch near Sabinal, Texas, but he soon sold that and purchased the wagon yard in San Angelo, Texas. He married Mollie Webb at the little west Texas town of Bronte, in 1895. She and their six children who became famous in show life were great assets to the show business, which he established later. He died of Bright’s disease at Miami, Oklahoma, in 1924. His widow Mrs. Mollie Webb Privett who lives with her aged mother in San Angelo, Texas, relates the following: “While we were running the wagon yard in San Angelo, people from all over the southwest would bring wild horses to Mr. Privett to ride. He had never been thrown and of course there were those who were envious and wanted to see his laurels hauled down. One man even brought along a camera with his outlaw horse, so sure was he that no one could ride him; he was going to take a picture of Booger Red as he was thrown. The picture was not taken and during the ride the man himself became so excited that he threw away his camera and joined in the applause.

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“Booger Red had the utmost confidence in his ability to ride and he wasn’t afraid to back it up with cash. One year during a San Angelo Fair a man imported a famous young horse from Montana and bet his whole bankroll that Booger Red could not ride him. Other bets were piled up and excitement ran high. The horse was a dun color with a black stripe right down his back and the same black stripes encircled his legs. He was sixteen hands high and altogether a magnificent looking creature. As Booger Red mounted him he was very cautious not to excite him and the horse actually stood dead still for a moment, then Booger Red yelled to the crowd, ‘Folks, he’s come all the way down here from Montana to get a booger on his back and here we go.’ With that he thumbed him in the neck and the battle was on. So was Booger at the end of the ride but I’ll have to admit that there were times I believe that I had as much confidence in his ability to ride as he did himself but this was the toughest number I had ever seen him tackle. “The money won was used to buy the horse and we called him Montana Gyp. This was only one of the many battles between Booger Red and Montana Gyp, as each ride was only a temporary conquering and the spirit of Montana Gyp was never conquered. For twenty-three years almost daily, some times ten or fifteen times daily this battle was renewed. Old Montana never threw Booger Red but he tried, just as hard the last time as he did the first. “I often think of when he rode him here once at a San Angelo Fair. He bucked all over the grounds then broke through the fence and out through a bunch of horses that were tied on the outside. One horse became so frightened that he reared up and fell on his head and broke his neck. Booger was with him when he stopped, though, and rode him back on the tracks. As he rode by the grandstand he said, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I knew I was ugly but I never knew before that I was ugly enough to scare a horse to death.’ They tried to pay the man for his horse but he wanted an exorbitant price and refused any reasonable offer, saying that he had rather have nothing at all than less than he asked. “Another time at the Fair here he rode a big old white steer that was said to be ride proof. Many bronc busters had tried him but had been thrown. He was so wild that the rider had to climb up on the gate and drop on his as he came through. Booger Red hit on him backwards, so he grabbed him by the tail and pulled it up over his shoulder with one hand and used the other to fan himself with his big white hat, as he came by the grandstand. He really got a hand on that ride. “I used to have to exercise the show horses around the tracks when we were not showing. Ella and Roy were little shavers then but I usually left Roy at the grandstand with Ella but not without a squall. He would cry to ride in the little

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two-wheeled carriage I drove. ‘Stick him down in the foot of that thing and let the horses out,’ his daddy said to me one morning, ‘one time will do him.’ I stuck his feet through the slats in the bottom of the thing and put the horses out at their best. When we got back to the grandstand you couldn’t tell what that kid was. His eyes, nose, and mouth were filled with dirt and as his daddy predicted he was cured of wanting to ride. “The children were already as fond of horses as their father was. We got them a little paint horse when he was 2 years old and kept him until he was 25. All six of the children learned to ride on little Prince. He was the smartest horse I ever saw. One of his many intelligent acts was to stop at a railroad crossing if he heard a train blow, and no amount of whipping could force him to cross until he saw the train go by. The children could ride just as long as one could stick on anywhere. We kept him twenty-three years and when he died at Miami, Oklahoma, we buried him with much grief and ceremony. “After we bought old Gyp and he and Mr. Privett became the attraction at every show, the idea of a Wild West Show of our own was born in our minds, so we got our small possessions together and started out with two bucking horses, a covered wagon, and two buggies. The teams and little Prince were just family equipment. “Mr. Privett originated the act of riding with his thumbs in his suspenders and looking back at the crowd. It had always been the custom up to then for the bronc rider to keep his eye directly on the mount in an effort to anticipate his next movement but Booger Red would tuck his thumbs in his suspenders and look all about, talking to his audience as he rode. “We started off showing in ball parks with a 25¢ admission charge and did well from the beginning. Our success always out-balanced the usual knocks and bumps encountered. “Booger was a proud, clean fellow, always so jovial and witty that he made everyone, including himself, either forget his misfortune or regard it only as an asset to his business. His announcements were always wound up with, ‘Come and see him ride, the ugliest man dead or alive, Booger Red.’ “We had lots of fun and many good times. We put on a show once at a church in Midlothian, Texas. The ‘old man’ (Booger Red) was always donating our exhibitions to some charitable cause and on this particular occasion a woman rider was needed and I could not fill the place, so Booger put on my skirt and hat and a good wig and would have fooled everyone, I believe, if he had not failed to fasten them on rights; but when the horse made two or three rounds, off came his entire disguise. The crowd went wild when they saw that it was Booger Red himself.

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“Our camp life was our most fun while we traveled in wagons, camping on streams and in the most beautiful places we could find. We always had a general clean up, even to washing the harness at such times. “Each Saturday night we would have Kangaroo Court. There were regular rules to be obeyed and when they were broken the victim was put on trial in regular cowboy style. On one occasion the ‘old man’ (Booger Red) was the offender. He had gotten about half sore one morning when the boys were late to breakfast and had rung a third bell after the first for rising, and the second for breakfast had been rung. He was tried, found guilty and sentenced to ten licks with the chaps as he was bent over a wagon tongue. He was a good sport and started off taking his medicine like a man, when Jack Lewis who loved him like a daddy ran into the guy, caught his arm and stopped the punishment. This created the great excitement and Jack was then tried for contempt of court and sentenced to double punishment. The usual punishment was to have to buy candy for the ladies or cigars for the men. “Many people try to say that show people are no good, etc., but I’ve seen more honesty and true principle shown by show people than many so-called higher-ups. I was just talking the other day about a boy we had with us down in East Texas. We called him Texas Kid and loved him like one of the family. He took sick down there and Mr. Privett sent him to the hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas. We continued with our shows but one night when we had a nice crowd, we all kept feeling so depressed that we couldn’t seem to get going. Even the band couldn’t play right and just before we were to start everything the ‘old man’ received a telegram stating that Texas Kid was dead. We all just went to pieces and Mr. Privett went out and read the message to the crowd, offering them a free pass the next night if they would excuse us and come back. They removed their hats and filed out of the tent in respectful order. The next night the crowd was almost double and not one would accept the free pass. ‘Use the extra money to defray funeral expenses,’ they would say, and that was what was done. “Many were the kind deeds I have seen the ‘old man’ perform. He was a funloving, witty man and carried on a lot in a joking way but when it came right down to principle and honesty he couldn’t be beat. I have seen him go out to a little bunch of ragged children and say, ‘Boys, aren’t you coming in the show?’ ‘We’d sure love to, Mr. Red,’ they would reply, ‘but we ain’t got no money.’ ‘Come on in,’ he would say, ‘and bring me some money next year when I come back here.’ It was surprising how many little shavers would walk up to him at different towns and offer him money, long after he had forgotten all about them. He always gave the money back to them but that was his lesson in honesty for them. The same was true of old or trampy people who could not pay their way

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into the show and many times I have seen him call back the customers for change, which in their excitement they would leave at the ticket window. “Booger Red was not a drinking man but he was broadminded and lenient with his boys. On Christmas Eve, one year, he told all the boys that if they would perform good that night they could have four days for celebration, with the lid off. That was the funniest four days I ever spent. The “old man” (Booger Red) set a keg of beer on the Christmas table and every fellow had his own cup. It seemed each one had an extra stunt all his own to pull off. “The boys all called me Mother and they took a notion for hot biscuits one day. I cooked their biscuits in a dutch oven aver an open campfire. ‘Why, I can’t cook biscuits today, boys.’ I said, ‘it is raining and will put out the fire.’ ‘Make ’em, Mother, make ’em,’ they all shouted, ‘we will get out there and hold our slickers over you and the fire while you cook them.’ That was too much and I made up the dough while they built the fire under the canopy of slickers and we cooked and ate biscuits like that until every one was filled. “At one time we were at Mill Creek, Oklahoma, during a big picnic and the crowd insisted that we put on a morning as well as an afternoon show. We tried it but somehow the usual time of day for the performances threw us off balance and every thing went wrong. Several riders were thrown and the whole thing was a flop. We felt sure that we would have no audience that afternoon but I guess our reputation was bigger than our blunders for the crowd very soon outgrew the tent and Mr. Privett raised the side walls and told them to stack up, all outsiders free. Pretty soon all the trees around the tent were filled and I believe we put on one of the best shows we ever produced. “Booger Red always advertised ahead of his appearances for people to bring in anything they could lead, drive, drag, or ship, and he would ride it or pay the standing forfeit of $100.00. He never had to pay off and there were plenty of bad horses brought in. He won twenty-three first prizes in all and rode at the World’s Fair at T. Louis forty years ago when Will Rogers and Tom Mix made their first public appearance. “His bronc riding saddle was merely a frame or tree, certainly no fancy affair but almost as famous as the ‘old man’ himself. “In a rodeo contest in Fort Worth once he won $500.00 and a fine saddle. When he went to the hotel with the rest of the crowd he took both his old and new saddle with him and hastily checked the new saddle as his buddies were rushing him to come on and eat. He pitched the old one in as he rushed after the boys. ‘Come back,’ yelled the clerk, ‘you haven’t checked your other saddle.’ ‘That’s all right,’ Booger shouted back, ‘if anyone uglier than I comes along just give it to him.’

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“Our show was growing all the time. He now had twenty-two broncos, twelve saddle horses and thirty-two wagons and had become known as the best Wild West Show on the road. It was then that the circus sought us out. He sold everything except our best bucking horses and went with the circus. We traveled by rail then and our good old wagon days were over. At different times we were with Al G. Barnes, Hagenbeck-Wallace, Buffalo Bill, and others. “I have to laugh every time I think of an incident which took place while we were with the Barnes Circus. Booger had twenty-five or thirty bucking horses, all good performers and with them and our crew we put on the Wild West part of the show. He wanted a strong line in the parade so we dressed up every thing available and put them on horses. Old Frog Horn Clancy was our announcer and when he came out to tell them of the fame of Booger Red’s wife it was pitiful how he spread it on. In truth I was not much of a rider but the way Frog Horn Clancy told them of the loving cups and handsome prizes I had won would have convinced the most skeptical. His blarney extended into “time” and my horse became very restless, so when he finally did close his spiel with, ‘Behold the famous Mrs. Privett in action,’ my horse lurched forward with an impatient gesture that sent me right off on my head. Wonder of wonders that I was not killed but I was hardly hurt. Tickled at my plight, but shamed to tears, I gathered myself up with all possible haste and ran from the tent as the applause died upon the lips of my spectators. “In show life there is sadness as well as gladness; lots of fun and some sorrow, like when we were to show in Wichita Falls (Texas) once. We were approaching the town and were met out on the highway by Pat Flynn’s brother who knew we were coming in and who had come on out to meet his brother in an effort to persuade him to quit the bronco riding business. Booger Red had taught little Pat to ride and he was good, also crazy about riding, much to the objection of his family. We were all crazy about Pat and hated to see him leave us but he had already promised his brother that he would go home with him the next day. A few hours before the show we all began to feel some of our old signs of depressed feelings returning. We couldn’t account for this but it was so noticeable that we all commented on it. Pat’s brother begged him not to ride that night. ‘Ah, just this last time,’ begged Pat, ‘you know we are going home tomorrow and I want to ride for the last time.’ ‘O.K.,’ said his brother, ‘if you will let me hold the horse.’ Mr. Privett knew he did not know how to stub a horse and he insisted that he keep out of it. Nothing else would do him however, and in getting off to an awkward start the horse became excited and broke away in a wild run, tangling himself in the rope and falling. He slung little Pat’s head against a tent pole and crushed his skull. Feeling the sense of depression that I

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had before the show began, I had remained at the wagon. When I noticed the awful stillness, the hushed exclamations, and then the agonized groans of the audience, I knew the thing had happened but who the victim was I was not to know until Thomas, my son, came running out to the wagon and said, ‘Oh! Mama, little Pat is killed.’ He was not really dead right then but he never regained consciousness and died about two hours later. Mr. Privett rushed to him and held his bleeding head on his lap until the inquest was held. No means of cleaning ever removed that dying blood from the ‘old man’s’ chaps and jacket. The body was sent to the boy’s hometown in Oklahoma and we all felt that we had lost one of our best boys. “While we were with the Barnes Circus, Mr. Privett had Alexander here in San Angelo (Texas) make him a fine silver mounted saddle and ship it to him. Of course it had ‘Booger Red’ and our address, all over the big wooden box. When it arrived at the station and was being unloaded the children all gathered around and began saying to each other, ‘Booger Red has arrived, he’s in that box.’ Excitement grew until I really believe some of the grown-ups believed it too. Booger Red enjoyed the joke so much that he would walk around the box and tell the children that they should have Booger Red some thing there to eat when he came out, that he would be hungry. By the time the box was opened the kids had enough peanuts, candy, milk, and sandwiches there to feed several people. When the box was opened and the saddle taken out, the look of disappointment on the poor little kiddies’ faces was pitiful. The ‘old man’ enjoyed the joke so much that her repeated it in several towns where he showed. “Booger had many wonderful horses and riders in his different shows but always it took Montana Gyp and Booger Red to produce the star act in any show. We kept the old horse over twenty years and when he died we had another funeral and the family grief was not far different from our experience when little Prince died. “Some of our famous horses were: Flaxy, Moon, Texas Boy, Rocky Mountain Steve, Black Diamond, Grey Wolf, Hell Set, and old Pay Day. Texas Boy was the one that never pitched twice the same way and Booger Red maintained a standing offer of $50.00 per minute to anyone who stayed on him but he was the only one ever to win the money. They were all bad horses but none ever equalled old Montana Gyp with the ‘old man.’ He held one grudge against the horse though, until his dying day. In 1915 he won the world’s championship at the San Francisco World’s air and received a $750.00 silver mounted saddle and one day after he had ridden his old horse down and thought he was conquered for that once, he made an extra lunge just as the ‘old man’ was dismounting, causing the

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rowel of his spur to make an ugly scratch across the seat of his beautiful saddle. He often remarked that he would never forgive the horse for this one deed. “Booger Red’s last performance was at the Fat Stock Show at Fort Worth (Texas) in 1924 just a short time before he died. He had retired and went to Fort Worth just to see the show. To keep from being recognized he wore a cap instead of his big white hat, and low quarters instead of boots and slipped in on the top seat of the grandstand. He was enjoying the performances when trouble arose in the arena with an outlaw horse. The rider was thrown and the crowd yelled, ‘Give us Booger Red.’ He sat as still as a mouse until an old lady at his elbow recognized him and shrieked, ‘Here he is!’ The crowd went wild and would not be put off. He made his way calmly down through the audience until he reached the bottom step where he was hoisted on the shoulders of the cheering throng and carried to the arena. He rode the old horse to a finish and many said it was the prettiest riding they ever saw. He was at that time probably the oldest man on record to make such a ride. “He had lots of trouble during the last years of his performances with Movie Companies trying to steal pictures of him. Many were the times he would start into the arena and see a machine set up in some obscure place, but they never tricked him. If he had lived until the picture business became more prominent he would have been as famous in the Movie world as he was in the show life of his day. “He always thought of his family first and was a kind husband and father, doing all the good he could wherever he was. “He died in March 1924, at Miami, Oklahoma, with these words on his lips, ‘Boys, I’m leaving it with you. Take good care of mama and little Bill. Always be honest, for it pays in the long run. Have all the fun you can while you live, for when you are dead you are a long time dead.’ “After his death the children and I went back to the Buchanan Shows and tried to carry on but it was never the same any more. Ella, the eldest girl who had done a beautiful riding and roping act with her father for sometime, rushed from the arena in tears the first time she attempted to put on the act without her father. “All the children were taught the riding and roping acts and were called famous by many. “We are all pretty well scattered now though, Ella married one of her father’s performers by the name of Linton and they are with the Tom Mix Circus in California. Roy never went back to the show after the World War. He has a nice family and is in the oil business in Electra, Texas. Thomas is with the Ringland Circus in New York. Luther is in California. Alta, who suffered a broken leg in

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The Southwest | The Turkey Herd

the Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus, married a Mr. Fuch and lives in San Angelo; and Little Bill as we all call the baby who weighs only 115 pounds, trains race stock on the Santa Anita track at Arcada, California. “Thomas and a bunch of boys went to Belgium in 1937 and put on a Wild West Show in answer to a request from there and when they were through showing they wouldn’t pay them. They had to sell all of their saddles and equipment to live until relatives could send for them. It cost over $100.00 to get Thomas back across the ‘pond.’ “They then attempted to pull the same stunt with Tom Mix but before he started he asked them to put up a forfeit. When they refused he broke up the plans and never went. “I’ve never learned to drive an automobile. I didn’t take any hat off to any man when it came to handling a team but I tell them when they start making cars without fenders so I can see where my wheels are going I will learn to drive then.”

THE TURKEY HERD Tradition Bearer: Tsatiselu Source: Parsons, Elsie Clews. “Pueblo Indian Folk-tales, Probably of Spanish Provenience.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 234–35. Date: ca. 1918 Original Source: Zuni Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

The following Zuni folktale is likely to be a variant of the European tale best known to contemporary readers as “Cinderella” (AT510A). This adaptation stresses the heroine’s subjugation to her sisters far less than it stresses her alliance with the animal world in the form of a flock of turkeys. The latter motif is stressed in many European versions; in the German version of the tale “Ash Girl,” for example, Ash Girl is aided in her endeavors by pigeons. As folklorist Elsie Clews Parsons suggests, this tale is more likely to have been borrowed from Spanish sources than to have been Native American in origin.

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L

ong ago at Kyakima lived a girl who spent all her time herding turkeys. She never did anything for her sisters. Nobody would comb her hair. It was all in a snarl. Her sisters would tell her to cook. They would say, “Why do you so love the turkeys?” She did not answer. After her sisters had cooked, she would take the bread and go out and tend the turkeys. At Matsaki they were dancing lapalehakya. They were dancing for the third time, when the turkey-girl said, “Younger sisters!” The turkeys said, “What?” The girl said, “I want to go and see the dance.” The turkeys said, “You are too dirty to go.” She repeated, “I want to go.” The turkeys said, “Let us eat the lice out of her hair!” Then each ate lice from her hair. Then an elder-sister turkey clapped her wings, and down from the air fell women’s moccasins (mokwawe). Then her younger sister (ikina) clapped her wings, and down from the air fell a blanket dress (yatone). Then another elder sister clapped her wings, and down from the air fell a belt (ehnina). A younger sister clapped her wings, and a pitone fell down. An elder sister clapped, and a blanket (eha) fell down. The little younger sister (an hani tsanna) clapped, and a hair belt (tsutokehnina) fell down. An elder sister turkey said, “Is this all you want?” The girl said, “Yes.” She put on the moccasins and the clothing. The turkeys put up her hair in a queue. She said to the turkeys, “I will comeback before sundown.” She went to her house, and made a little cloth bag, and filled it with meal. Then she went on to Mat-saki. Her sisters said, “Has she gone to the dance?” One said, “Yes.” “She is too dirty to go.” After she reached Matsaki, as she stood there, the dance-director asked if she would dance. She said, “Yes.” She danced all day. When the sun set, she finished dancing, and ran back to the turkeys. The turkeys had said, when she did not come, “We must not go on living here. Our sister does not love us.” When she arrived, they were not there. They were on top of a little hill, singing,— “Kyana to to kyana to to kyana to to ye uli uli uli to to to to.”

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The Southwest | History of a Buffalo Hunter

They flew down to Kyakima. They went on as fast as they could until they came to turkey-tracks. There they drank at the spring. Their tracks were from north, south, east, west. After they drank, they flew to Shoakoskwikwi. They reached a high rock. They sat on it, and sang,— “Kyana to to kyana to to kyana to to ye uli uli uli to to to to.” When Turkey Girl arrived, the turkeys were not there. She saw their tracks. She followed the tracks on a run. At Tonateanawa she saw where they had drunk. She ran on. Then she lost their tracks. She went back to her house. The turkeys had flown to Shoakoskwikwi, to the spring there. That is why at Shoakoskwikwi you see wild turkeys. The girl came back to her house crying. Her sisters said, “Don’t cry! You did not return on time. You did not love them.” The girl stayed and cooked for her sisters. Thus it was long ago.

HISTORY OF A BUFFALO HUNTER Tradition Bearer: Manuel Jesus Vasques Source: Tejada, Simeon. “Interview of Manuel Jesus Vasques.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: Mexican American

The passing of the great bison, or buffalo, herds on the Plains has been incorporated into every American school child’s history text. The image of the white hide hunters and their Sharps rifles is a staple of pop culture in media from the “dime novel” to the Hollywood feature film. The reality of this life has not survived with these media depictions. Manuel

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Jesus Vasques—hunting with a lance from horseback, making his patron a wealthy man while “never holding a single penny in his hand”—knew the reality of the buffalo hunter and horse trader intimately. His account is contained in the following personal experience narrative.

D

on Manuel Jesus Vasques was born in the settlement of Chamisal, Taos County, New Mexico on the 31st day of January of the year 1856. He himself does not know how he came to live at the home of Don Juan Policarpio Romero of the village of Penasco but at the age of eight he was herdboy for a flock of goats belonging to Don Juan Policarpio Romero and continued as such until he married Rosario Fresquez of Penasco. After he was married he practiced carpentry, making coffins for the dead, during the great smallpox plague of the year 1875. There were days in which four or five deaths occurred and Don Manuel could not make coffins enough to supply the demand and there was no other carpenter in Penasco. Some of the dead were placed on poles and dragged to the cemetery by burros. While the epidemic raged Don Manuel continued making coffins and when it had subsided in Penasco, Don Juan Policarpio sent him to Ocate, Chacon, and Santa Clara, now known as Wagon Mound, to make coffins at those places. In the year 1877 Don Policarpio sent Don Manuel Jesus Vasques in company with other men to the plains on a buffalo hunt. He left Penasco with a Navajo Indian called Juan Jesus Romero, whom Don Policarpio Romero had raised. Alvino Ortega and Jesus Maria Ortega of the settlement of El Llano de San Juan (Plains of Saint John) as well as some thirty other men went with them on the buffalo hunt. They took with them fifteen ox drawn carts, the oxen’s horns were tied securely to the yokes with straps of ox-hide. This group of men met in Penasco on the 15th of November, 1877 before setting out on the hunt. They set the same day for Mora, there they were joined by more men and more carts, from there they went to Ocate and there also, they were joined by more men and more carts. From this place they traveled as far as the Colorado River, which they crossed below what is now the town of Springer in Colfax County. At that time there was not a single house there, or at least they saw none, nor did they see any footprints and there was no trail of any kind. They were traveling towards the state of Oklahoma and reached Chico, also in Colfax County, New Mexico. At this place they camped for a few days in order to rest their oxen. A meeting was called with the object of placing someone of them at the head of the expedition; votes were cast and Don Alvino

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The Southwest | History of a Buffalo Hunter

Ortega of the Llano de San Juan received a majority of votes and was given the title of “Comandante,” Commander. From this time on nothing was done except at the express command of Don Alvino Ortega, he ordered the oxen to be yoked, he gave the order to make camp, to water the animals, he also ordered mounted men to ride ahead to scout for signs of Indians who might cause them trouble, and to reconnoiter ahead for water for since there was no road over the prairies it was quite possible and dangerous that at any moment they might suddenly come upon a deep canon or swollen stream which they would not be able to cross. These scouts would ride ahead of the caravan, returning to the camp each night. They passed close to the site of the city of Clayton by way of a spring called El Ojo del Cibolo (Buffalo Spring) and continued across Texas to enter Oklahoma at a point called Punta de Agua (Waterhole). It took them a month to reach buffalo country. At a point called Pilares a buffalo bull was killed which furnished them meat for a few days. From Pilares the expedition traveled for three or four days more until it reached a river called Rio de las Nutrias (Beaver River). They camped a short ways down the stream and began hunting buffaloes. The hunt continued until they had killed enough buffaloes to fill fifty carts with the meat. Only the meat that could be cut into large strips was used, that is, the hindquarters, the hump. The buffalo fat was saved also. The hunt was conducted on horseback and lances were the weapons used. The commander would order the men to form a line placing the hunters mounted on the swifter horses at each end so that when they advanced on a herd of buffalo the ends of the line would lead the rest in an encircling movement of the beasts. When the men were formed in line and before they launched themselves on the buffalo the Commander would ask that they all pray together and ask the Almighty God for strength in the impending hunt. When the Commander was heard to say, “Ave Maria Purissima” (Hail Holy Mary) the line would move forward as one man the end men on their swifter horses outdistancing the rest so as to encircle the herd, which was to be attacked. Some of the men designated as skinners followed the hunt driving burros before them. These men skinned the fat cows only for the dead animals were so plentiful that they would ignore the bulls and lean cows. They would pack the buffalo meat into camp where they would cut it into convenient sized strips after which they would slice it very t thin and hang it up to dry on poles. The “cecina” or jerked meat was prepared in the following manner; long strips were cut from the carcasses, for this, men expert at the job were

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selected. After the meat had cooled it was spread on hides and tramped on until it was drained of blood and then as we have already stated the cecinas were hung on poles to dry in the sun. After it had dried they would stack it up like cordwood, each pile containing enough meat to load three or four carts. As soon as the Commander thought that sufficient meat had been prepared to fill all of the ox-carts he would give orders to cease killing buffaloes. He then would assign three or four carts to each pile of meat and he himself would divide the meat according to the different kinds, larger pieces, meat from the hump and the tallow; the smaller pieces were anybody’s property in any quantity desired. In loading the meat the same method was used as in loading fodder, some would load the meat on the cart while the owner of the cart would trample it down so as to get as much of a load on the cart as he possibly could and all that the oxen would be able to haul home. After the carts were loaded a party of ten Plains Indians of the Kiowa tribe suddenly rode into camp. The Indians asked for something to eat and their request was complied with. After they had eaten some of the party thought it would be a good idea to kill the Indians, arguing that they were only ten in number and could be safely dispatched whereas if they were allowed to leave they might apprise others of their tribe and return in larger numbers to kill the members of the hunting party and steal the meat. Don Manuel Jesus Vasques opposed this plan. The Indians were ordered out of camp. They retired a short distance but followed the homeward bound caravan for a long distance. The following morning on orders of the Commander the long trek home was begun in earnest. At the crossing of the Nutrias River the ox-cart belonging to the only American in the party became stuck in midstream. This American lived in Ocate. After all the rest of the ox-carts had safely crossed the river, all of the party helped in extricating the American’s cart from the river and onto dry land. The actual hunting of the buffaloes lasted one month, the trip to and from the hunting grounds required a month’s travel each so that the whole trip lasted three months. It took three months of that winter for the entire trip. This expedition was free of any dispute or fight of any kind, whatever Don Manuel ordered was executed and the whole expedition got along very agreeably. When Don Manual Jesus Vasquez returned to Penasco preparations were being made for another expedition to the country of the Comanches and Cayguas (Kiowas) towards Kansas. Don Manual Jesus Vasques went on this trip also. The object of this trip was the buying of horses from the Comanches and Kiowas. On this trip burros loaded with bread were taken along. The bread was a certain kind of bread called Comanche bread. This bread was made of wheat flour but without yeast so that the bread was as hard or harder than a rock; and was traded

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The Southwest | Victorio’s Raid

to the Indians for horses. The Indians were Kiowas and Comanches. A “trinca” of bread was given for each horse. A “trinca” was half a sack of bread or in other words a sack of bread for a pair of horses. At this time the Indians already were receiving some aid from the government and they would feed those who went to trade with them, they had plenty of coffee and sugar. Twenty men went on this trading expedition and they brought fifteen horses back to Penasco with them. The most of the men who went on this expedition worked for wages, small wages however, no one of them ever made more than 50¢ a day. Yet Don Juan Policarpio Romero never paid Don Manuel Jesus Vasques a single cent for his labors, as shepherd for his flock of goats nor for the making of coffins, nor for his services as a buffalo hunter or horse trader with the Indians, but he did keep Don Manuel and his family. While his patron lived Don Manuel never held one single penny in his hand. Don Manuel Jesus Vasques who is alive today at the age of 83 says that he never recollects having seen the inside of a school house, but that his patron taught him how to sign his name. Don Juan Policarpio left or designated Don Manuel as one of his heirs and the sons of Don Juan Policarpio Romero gave him four goats and asked him to sign a paper which attested that he had received his share of the inheritance, and he not knowing how to read signed. The Probate Judge at Taos called him before him and asked Don Manuel if he was content and satisfied and upon his answering that he was, he signed the paper or document.

VICTORIO’S RAID Tradition Bearer: Maurice Coates Source: Totty, Francis. “Interview of Maurice Coates.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: European American

Victorio’s War against the European Americans who moved into the Southwest after the Civil War lasted from 1879 to 1880. The cause of

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the war was the repeated breaking of a promise to provide Victorio’s Warm Springs Apache in New Mexico Territory with its own reservation. Ultimately, Victorio led his band throughout the New Mexico and Arizona Territories waging guerilla warfare, terrorizing residents, and fleeing across the border into Mexico to evade the U.S. Army forces sent to subdue him. It was in Mexico that Victorio and the remainder of his band—by then numbering fewer than eighty—were penned in and killed in 1880. At its greatest strength, his band numbered fewer than two hundred. The following legend is important both for its account of one of the events in this campaign and also for the clash of cultures the narrator’s words reveal.

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n 1878 Jim Keller, Maurice Coates, John Roberts, W. H. Beavers, Robert Stubblefield and Morris Smith and family left Prescott Arizona for the Frisco Valley, where they settled. Late in May of 1879 we were out in the field plowing when a roving band of Apaches, five in number, fired upon us. We made a rush for the house and after getting our guns we crossed the Frisco river up into the Cedars, we were at the present site of Glenwood when we saw the Indians coming. Deming was going on down the valley to warn the settlers and Houston, Beaver, Keller and I hid, after staking out a horse as a decoy. We fired on the Indians when they came in sight for they had made for the horse as they were all afoot. Deming came back as he was afraid that the Indians were heavily armed and he was taking too much of a risk to continue on down the valley. We fired too low and broke three of the warriors’ legs, one of the warriors had been left on the hill to watch, and the others when we fired ran up the hill to escape. We camped for the night and the next morning took the trail of the Indian that we had injured that went over the hill; we saw an Indian up in the hill covered with a blanket. Mr. Foster thinking that the warrior was dead lifted up the blanket and was surprised to find that the man had been asleep. Mr. Foster raised his gun to shoot. The Indian began to beg for his life, but Foster was so disgusted with the raids of the Indians that he pulled the trigger and blowed the Indian’s head off. Terrible was a son-in-law of Victorio and was killed by us during the fight, we soon heard that Victorio was on the warpath as he was going to revenge the death of his son-in-law.

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The Southwest | Victorio’s Raid

During the month of April, 1880, there were many rumors that Victorio was out. Steve, a sub-chief of the Apaches, was up in the hills, was up in the [White?] Rocks country camping for Indians on the warpath. Steve was on a hunting trip when Victorio arrived on the scene and tried to get him to throw in with him to attack the settlers in the territory. Victorio became angry with Steve because he wouldn’t attack the whites, and attacked the sub-chief. Three of Victorio’s warriors were killed and Steve left the region. On April the 28th Victorio made his presence known by appearing at the location of the Conney Mine killing two men. The rest of the party hid out and brought the news into the camp that the Indians had attacked and killed two of their group. Jim Cooney and Jack [Chick?] went to give the alarm while another group went Clairmont to give the alarm. George Doyle and John Lambert remained on the grounds. The tribe soon took over the mining camp and burned the cabins. Around noon one of the braves took a mirror and tied it around his neck. The squaws were soon fighting for a chance to get a glimpse of their dirty features in the mirror. When Chick and Conney arrived with the news that Brightman and one other had been killed, we began at once to get out and round up the live stock. We spent the entire night on the range hunting the stock. Conney and Chick went to the Meader ranch to carry the news, and Mr. Meader made the remark that, “Well we have the garden planted and I don’t think the Indians are going to bother us.” Mrs. Meader remarked that she believed the report and started at once to mold bullets. Conney desired to return to camp, and Mrs. Meader begged him to not leave, but he insisted that he was going and it was not long until the horses of Chick and Conney returned without riders. When the horses were seen without their riders the alarm was sent out at once. Mr. Elliot rushed over to the Meader ranch and gave the alarm. The Meader family started at once for the Roberts ranch. On the way over the Indians fired upon the family and as the wagon was between the house and the Indians there wasn’t much that the people in the cabin could do to help the family. Agnes Meader Snyder had an arrow shot through her bonnet, was as near as the Indians came to hitting any of the members of the family. Mrs. Meader had the people to fill of the barrels and tubs with water before the water was cut off, and it was only a short time after the vessels were filled that the ditch was cut. Five of we men decided to go behind the house and shoot at the Indians. They were out there only a short time when they were fired upon. We made a run for the house. I lost my belt of cartridges and pistol.

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There was a horse picketed some forty feet from the house. An Indian tried to get the horse. When he raised up to cut the rope, he was surprised with a shot from Jim Keller’s gun. Some time later when it was decided safe to go out to where the Indian was it was found that he had on the gun that had been lost earlier in the day. The body of the Indian was removed during the night from where it was laying. Wilcox raised up to look over the barricade and was shot through the heart. The only member of the party to be killed after the fight started. A rescue party was sent from Silver City to the aid of the besieged, but as the Indians left the morning after the fight they were not to be found.

RANGE LIFE IN TEXAS Tradition Bearer: Jack Robert Grigsby Source: Angermiller, Florence. “Interview of Jack Robert Grigsby.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Texas National Origin: Anglo American

Most of the historical accounts that find their way into print chronicle significant turning points in political careers, national crises, and major encounters between political systems. The autobiography that follows includes a personal experience narrative that includes the notorious figures Billy the Kid and William H. Bonney (1859?–1881). It also makes passing references to lesser known, but no less deadly, gunmen, Bill (William Preston) Longley (1851–1878), notorious for his hate crimes against Blacks after the Civil War, and George Gladden, a central figure in what came to be known as the Mason County War. The Mason County War, also known as the Hoodoo War, took place in Texas in the decade after the Civil War. More importantly, however, the following are the vivid memories of a fairly average man caught up in the turmoil of Reconstruction and the changes brought by the turn of the twentieth

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The Southwest | Range Life in Texas

century. This is a life that many lived in the Southwest, but few have passed along to the twenty-first century.

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was born in Tyler, Texas, August 26, 1854, coming to this country in November, 1870. I was about sixteen years old when I came here. I was raised an orphan. I don’t ever remember seeing my mother, and my father died when I was six or seven years old. After that I lived first one place and another till I came out here. I started work on a ranch when I first got to this country, working for Will Pruitt. I just lived in the woods, for there were very few people here at that time. I worked for Mr. Pruitt about six years, just working for my board and clothes, and it wasn’t many clothes either. I went part of the way up the trail to Oklahoma, twice with stuff for Will Pruitt. But he would always turn me back at Red River. He knew that I had a half brother living on up in Oklahoma and I always thought he did this so I wouldn’t find my brother and stay with him, for he wanted me to work for him. I would come all the way back from Red River alone. Sometimes I would meet up with herds on the way and sometimes I would ride all the way back without seeing anyone. I have had all kinds of ups and downs in the cattle business. Once we took a bunch of cattle to the old Woodhull ranch out south of Spofford. Part of the herd belonged to Mr. Furness. He had come up here and bought them up, and we got twenty-five cents a head for all we delivered, and furnished ourselves. But we had to pay for all we lost. One night we had camped about where Cline is now and had put the herd in a corner of a pasture for the night. We were herding them too, but along in the night something scared them and they run through all three of those wire fences. As we would turn them from one string they would go into another. But we only lost two. One broke its shoulder and one got away. It was a steer that belonged to old Man Vogel and three years later Millard Parkerson caught him and sold him for old Man Vogel. But the one that got its shoulder broke didn’t cost us anything for it belonged to one of the boys in the bunch. Our boss wanted to get there with the cattle looking good. So after we crossed Turkey Creek, we heard the train coming and he asked us to take the cattle a mile or so away from the track so the train wouldn’t stampede ’em. Well, we all had cattle in the outfit and we made it up to hold them right to the track. So we took our slickers from behind our saddles and whipped the herd right up

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to the track. We had to do some riding for about two miles, for those cattle really did run. But we stayed with ’em. The boss sure got red but it didn’t do him any good. The next day we got to the ranch and was going down on a creek to camp, and one of the boys roped the pack horseman and he went to pitching and scattered skillets, frying pans, coffee pots and all our grub everywhere. But we got everything back but our grub. So we went up to the house and told Mr. Furness what had happened. He told us to come on up to the house and stay. So we helped him brand out his cattle, and he give us enough grub to get back home. Yes, we always used a packhorse to carry our grub for we worked in this rough country and there were no roads, so we had no use for a chuck wagon. Except one time when we made a trip up on the divide above Leakey. Well, there was no road and the wagon broke down. We had gotten ahead with the herd, so some of the boys went back to see what was wrong and to get some corn from the wagon to feed the horses. The man saw a light out across the country and came back and told us it was Indians. So we had to get out and round up the horses. We built a brush pen to put them in and guarded them all night. The next morning we had gotten breakfast and started to eat. But it was always the custom then, when the cowboys were eating, for someone to keep watch for Indians. Well, one of the boys got up to look and saw a big bunch of men coming. He says, ‘Boys, here they come!’ But it turned out to be soldiers and they had seen us and thought we were Indians. So the boss got up and hollered at them to wait and the officer in charge come on up to the camp. We had killed a beef the evening before, so we gave them part of that and they gave us about twenty-five pounds of coffee. One time Joe Pan Pelt came to work with our outfit down here about Rio Frio. Well, we always turned all the horses loose at night except one or two we kept to ride after the others next morning. We never cared what we kept up to ride—just anything, no matter how they were. The boys always took it turn about going after the horses in the morning, so it came Joe’s time to get the horses. It was a cold, frosty morning and he said he didn’t want to get on the horse. But I told him yes, he must go. So he got on the horse and he began pitching and finally turned a somersault with him. He got up and said he couldn’t ride the horse again. But I told him we had those horses there to ride and if he didn’t ride him I couldn’t keep him for I couldn’t afford to keep a hand that could not ride the horses. So he got on him again and that time he rode him. Joe Collins used to come out in this country and buy fat cattle and take them to New Orleans and ship them from there. I have seen him ride into cow camp with a morral (nose bag) full of gold and go off and leave it there maybe

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all night and no one ever bothered it. I guess if someone had taken it he would have just been killed and that would have been all there would have been to it. There wasn’t any court. Uvalde was the nearest post-office. Old Man Schwartz used to come to the cow camps with his hack peddling dry goods and lots of times he would stay all night. He always went prepared to camp, for them days you couldn’t always make it to a house for the night. But he would always sell something to the cowboys, such as gloves and if they didn’t have the money they got them just the same. And I don’t believe those cowboys ever beat him out of a quarter. He was sure a fine old man. I thought a lot of him. When I first commenced work for myself I had some awful mean horses. I traded for the meanest ones I could get, so the boys wouldn’t ride ’em when I was gone. I had one I only rode every three days. Well, he was so mean I would have to tie him to a tree and beat him up before I could get a bridle on him, for he sure would fight. I broke a horse down here once for Mart Pruitt. He finally traded him to Calvin Bowles. The horse was getting tender-footed so I met Calvin one day and told him his horse needed shoeing. He said yes, but he was too mean to shoe. But the old blacksmith in Leakey come out and said he could handle him. Well, they brought the horse down and the old blacksmith fooled around him a little while and finally dropped the rope. I said, ‘Don’t do that; he’ll run off.’ He told me to just let him alone he would handle him. So he went in and got his nails and hammer and horseshoes and put the shoes on him and the horse never moved. I don’t know what he did to the horse for after that he was just as mean to kick anyone else as he ever was. Yes, times are quite different now to what they used to be. I remember when Old Man Hanson come in here and taken up a preemption of a hundred and sixty acres. Hatten Elms come along and wanted to trade him out of it. Elms asked him what he would take for it and he said, ‘Two cows and calves,’ which meant about eight dollars for a cow and calf. Well, they traded for about a week, and then Elms backed out. So you can imagine about what land was worth then. Once the Indians come into the country and was stealing horses. Well, we heard of them and the settlers got together and took their trail down here about Rio Frio. We followed them on across the Seco to the Sabinal Canyon and on to Frio Town, down by Old Man Westfall’s ranch, which was a big cow ranch. And when we crossed the Frio near where Loma Vista is now, we had run out of food and were sure hungry. We hadn’t had anything to eat for several days but a little coffee. There didn’t seem to be any stock in that country then. But we finally met a Mexican sheepherder with a herd of sheep and asked him for one. He said we would have to go see the boss. We didn’t have time to fool around

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hunting the boss. So Joe Van-Pelt jumped off his horse and shot at a big old mutton and killed two. We took them on down to a little creek and cooked them and the eighteen of us ate every bit of those two sheep. The Indians killed nineteen people before they reached the Rio Grande. Well, we went on for a day or two without overtaking them and some of the men got discouraged and kept dropping out till there was only five of us left. We had appointed Henry Patterson as captain. So he decided it was best to go back to Uvalde and wire Lieutenant Bullis for help so he met us here with his Seminole Indian soldiers and we took up the trail again and followed it on to the Rio Grande. But they had already gone across. We could see men riding back and forth and we were satisfied it was these Indians, but we were not allowed to go after them. They killed one man by the name of Byrd and about five of his men who was herding sheep for him. Mr. Byrd was in his buggy when the Indians overtaken him and after they killed him, they taken everything he had in the buggy and his buggy harness. They cut the leather harness up in little pieces and scattered it along the way. Of course it was of no value to them. But we found it as we followed the trail. They had also gone by the Mount Woodward ranch and killed two or three men there. We didn’t see anyone as we passed the ranch. We wasn’t bothered about seeing people—we was just following that Indian trail. Another time we followed a bunch of Indians over on Dry Frio. They had killed a man by the name of Terry and captured his two children a little boy and a little girl. The girl’s name was Mattie and the boy’s name was Joe. But Joe had fought them so hard they knocked him in the head and left him for dead, right before his little sister’s eyes. But he didn’t die. Well, we rode all night that night till daylight. At daylight we took up the trail again and overtaken them just before noon. They didn’t offer to fight for it was raining and their bowstrings were wet. They couldn’t shoot and that gave us the best of them. One old Indian was off ahead of the others and they were crossing a creek when we begin to shoot at them. We followed them on into a shin-oak thicket. After awhile we come into a little opening and just as we got to this opening we saw the little girl. It looked like she had just been kicked off of the horse by the old Indian she was riding behind. She had an Indian blanket wrapped around her and when she saw us she started to run. But we told her to wait, we wouldn’t hurt her, so she sat down on the blanket and waited. We went on after the Indians, still shooting at them every chance we got. Finally we got so close to the old Indian that had dropped the little girl that we could see him kick his horse every jump trying to make him go faster. Anyway, he had a bed tick around him and we found that full of bullet holes and bloody. I don’t know if we killed any or not but there was plenty of blood along the trail.

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He ran on till he got to a ridge and when he went over this ridge and into another thicket, we was close enough to see he carried a long lance in his hand. None of us wanted him bad enough to go in there after him, for you know they can throw those old lances through you. We got the little girl and started back home. On the way back we found a lot of stuff the Indians had lost, such as goat hides and one buffalo robe. It was cold and everything was wet. So we picked them up and took them to camp and used them for bedding. Just before night someone said, ‘Do you suppose these things have lice?’ But we slept on them just the same. Yes, we got plenty lice. When we got back to Old Man Shores’ where we were in cow camp, we took a big wash pot, got off down on the river and cleaned up. We boiled all our clothes and tied the buffalo robe in the river for about three days. Jim Avant took the little girl on to his home, but he had to stay in camp with the rest till he got rid of those lice. Mrs. Avant took the little girl and combed and washed the lice out of her hair, and washed the paint off of her face that the Indians had put on it. And she put clean clothes on her. Every family in the whole country wanted the little girl, but she didn’t want to stay with any of them. She wanted to stay with us men who had rescued her from the Indians. When they did take her back to her mother, she went with a herd of fat cattle that Pruitt was taking to San Antonio. When they got to San Antonio, she wouldn’t get on the stage coach to go home unless one of the cowboys went along, so one of them got on the coach up with the driver and put the little girl back inside with the mail. There was a little window in the top where she could see the cowboy sitting up on top. Well, when they got down the road a piece, they picked up another passenger so the cowboy slipped off and this man took his place. The little girl didn’t know the difference. But I never saw her after that. I knew Billy the Kid. He stayed in camp with us down here about Hackberry once for about a week. He rode into camp one day and his horse was rode down. He told us his name was Word and he wanted to stay a few days. I told him all right. So he stayed on and helped us round up cattle till one day he got into a fight with a Negro we had working with the outfit. Billy cut the Negro across the side of the face and down the back with a long butcher knife. The Negro finally run. And when he stopped, I walked over to where he was and he said, ‘Mr. Jack, please don’t let him hurt me any more!’ About that time Billy came up and said, ‘Oh, shut your damn mouth. I have already done all to you that I want to.’ Billy stood there and wiped the blood off of the knife with his hands and looked at the cut on the man as unconcerned as if he hadn’t done a thing. But he left after that. He was afraid the officers would hear of this and would get him for other things he was wanted for.

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When he left camp he went on up to Bill Patterson’s ranch and got a job going up the trail to Kansas that spring. They said he stayed with them part of the way back home, but stopped one day away out on the prairie and took his bed but turned his horse a-loose. So they left him right there without a horse. They said they guessed he didn’t want to get any closer to Texas. I knew several other desperados. Among them was Bill Longley, George Gladden, John Beard and Lew Sawyers. They all come through this one winter at different times. They didn’t do any kind of work while they was here but they took in all the dances. There was one man, a desperado, come in to this country one time. I can’t remember his name right now. Anyway he stayed over on the West Prong a lot. I don’t know what he had done, no telling what. Anyway, while he was staying up on the West Prong, he shot a Mexican one day just to try out his gun. The Mexican was about two hundred and fifty yards away and as he stooped over to dig a hole this man shot him in the hip. I met the man about a mile down the road just after it had happened but he didn’t say a word about what he had done. Well, the (Texas) Rangers come in and got after him and caught him away from home without a horse. But he got away from them and Old Man Lyman Smith helped him get out of the country by exchanging clothes with him so he would be disguised and wouldn’t get caught. Those fellows were very peaceful and nice unless trouble come up. I was married to Miss Jennie Horton in January 1888. We were married right up the river here about a half-mile in my wife’s parent’s home. We walked on down here after the wedding and have been here ever since. But I had to give a dance at Leakey in the courthouse that night to keep the boys from shivareeing us. We had a big supper and danced till about four o’clock, then it came up a big, snow storm and we had to go home to keep from freezing. It was one of the biggest snowstorms I ever saw in this country. I guess me getting married caused it.

THE ADAMS DIGGINGS Tradition Bearer: E. V. Batchler Source: Batchler, E. V. “Autobiographcial Account by E. V. Batchler.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938

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The Southwest | The Adams Diggings

Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: European American

The following is one of the many legends of lost treasures and gold mines that circulated throughout the Southwest. Many were lured by the tales, but virtually all came away disappointed.

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ince I came to New Mexico, eighteen years ago, I have heard stories of the wealth of the famous, old, lost Adams Diggings Mine. I have heard at least a dozen different stories and each succeeding story made the mine richer both in actual gold value and romantic interest. As is often the way with lost mines of this type, it all depends on who you listen to, whether the mine gets richer or not. It always seemed strange to me that nearly every old-timer will swear that he knows more about a fabulously rich, lost mine than any other old prospector. He will try to discredit other prospectors who have searched for the mine and in an effort to tell something “bigger,” magnify its riches by many times what others have estimated it at. In reality, none of them know or have the slightest idea as to the value of the lost mine, because it has never been found. The current story based on a story from the El Paso Herald is that a bunch of men, among them Edward Adams, who purportedly found the mine that was later named for him, organized an expedition to go to California. Their probable starting place was Magdalena. They traveled in a northwesterly direction, until somewhere between Magdalena and old Fort San Rafael, they camped on a little stream. One of the men noticed gold in the stream and excitedly revealed his discovery to the rest. Adams, who knew a little more about mining than his companions, decided that the gold washed into the stream from a rich outcropping above the camp. Taking his partner, a man by the name of Davidson with him, he left camp and traveled up the canyon about a mile to try to discover the “mother lode.” A little while after they had disappeared around a bend in the creek, the expedition was attacked by Apaches, and as they caught the encampment totally unprepared, the Indians massacred every man in camp. Adams and Davidson heard the firing, and guessed its cause, took to the cover of the bushes on the nearby hillside. After hiding for several hours, the two men cautiously made their way over the hill and saw that the Apaches had

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left, secure in the belief that they had killed all the men of the expedition, and had taken all the mules and horses with them. After burying all the dead, Adams and Davidson knocked a few pieces of gold-bearing ore off an outcropping of quarts that they believed to be the “mother lode.” They then purported made their way to Fort San Rafael, where they said they asked for aid to go back and find the gold and were refused by the officer in charge. They then made their way afoot and after perilous hardships and a great deal of suffering, came into the little town of Reserve, in what is now Catron County. It is said that they showed the ore to several of the natives, and then after borrowing some money on the strength of the richness of the ore, bought horses and went to Pima, Arizona, where Adams had friends whom he thought had enough money to properly outfit an expedition to return to the place where he had found the gold. The expedition was organized, and traveled from Pima to Alma and thence to the immediate locality where Adams was supposed to have found the gold. But through some freak of nature or loss of direction, they could not find the gold, or even the place where the men had been massacred. Perhaps it was because Adams and Davidson both were notoriously poor in remembering directions. Many expeditions have been organized since then, but to this day, the Adams Diggings remains as much a mystery as when Adams first told of it. Now I am going to tell a story that is almost completely at variance with the story printed by the El Paso Herald. It is a first-hand story from the lips of Bob Lewis, pioneer, old-time prospector, cowboy and for the better part of his manhood, a frontier peace officer and a personal friend of Edward Adams. Bob is a big man, well over six-feet and weighing in the vicinity of two hundred pounds. He always have a jovial greeting and manner, and has the map of Ireland printed all over his face. Big, rough and burly, he has been the bane of many crooks and lawbreaker in his County. He lives in Magdalena. He has been over nearly every section of the southwestern corner of the State of New Mexico, and knows its rugged terrain as well or better than nearly any other man. He is renowned for his lack of fear, and truthfulness. That is why I believe his account of the Adams Diggings far more than any of the others I have heard. Here is the story in his own words: “Sure I knowed old Adams. I knowed him before he left Magdalena, and after he came back. Never was a bigger old liar. He’d tell a lie when the truth would fit better. He was used to braggin’ and stretchin’ the truth. He was drinkin’ man too. I knowed him to stay drunk six months out of the year, and then go on and throw a big drunk the rest of the year.”

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It was in the early part of August, 1864, when Adams and about seven other men organized a trappin’ expedition and started up in the northwestern part of the state to trap beaver. They started early and intended to get their camp set up before cold weather came. They camped on a little stream not far from old Fort San Fafael, which is now Fort Wingate and has been moved a few miles from the old site of Fort San Rafael. Now I don’t know this for certain, but I believe from events, which I will try to explain later, that just about dark, a caravan from California stopped and threw camp with Adams party. They had stopped at Fort Wingate two days before and had told the commanding officer that they were transporting between sixty and eighty thousand dollars in placer gold from California to some of the Eastern states. I know that they were never seen after the time Adams party was wiped out by the Indians, so I believe that they camped with Adams party and met the same fate. I know from Adams personal character, that he was not above ambushing such a caravan. I did not know Davidson, but as he was Adams sidekick, I believe he throwed in with Adams and the two of ’em made plans to hijack the California outfit and steal their gold. An encampment like that, in those days, usually got us an hour or two before daylight, in order to make an early start. It is said that Adams and Davidson made an excuse to go and gather some wood, as wood had been scarce the evening before and they had not been able to obtain a sufficient supply. I believe that Adams and Davidson absented themselves from camp, so they could go down country a few miles and find a suitable place for waylaying the California outfit. While they were gone, and it must have been just as good daylight came, because that is the time when Indians usually attack, a big bunch of Apaches attacked the camp. So complete must have been the surprise, that the white men could not have had a very good chance to grab their guns and defend themselves. Every man in that camp was killed, scalped and their bodies mutilated, and all their provisions, horses and mules stolen by the Apaches. When Adams and Davidson returned to camp, they must have congratulated themselves on the luck that had caused them to absent themselves from camp. Rummaging around among the supplies, Adams must have found the gold the California outfit had been carrying. As proof of this, I later saw a handful of this gold that Adams had save when he buried the rest and it was a quality entirely foreign to that part of New Mexico and identical with some I had seen from California Diggin’s. The pellets were about the size of a pinhead, up

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to as big as a pinto bean, and I knew that nobody ever found that kind of gold in the parts of New Mexico I have prospected over. After burying the gold in what they considered a safe place, the two made their way afoot, supposedly, to Fort San Rafael, where they said they reported the massacre to the authorities in charge and petitioned aid from the commanding officer to go back and help them relocate a mine they had found and to view the remains of the Indian attack. I do not believe this last part, because many years later, I happened to be in Evans [?], in March 1890, where Adams, who had been drinkin’ pretty heavy, related a story of how he had gone to Fort San Rafael, on a certain day (he mentioned the exact date, which I can not now remember) in August, 1864, and petitioned the commanding officer for aid to return to give decent burial to the massacred party and offer him and Davidson protection while they tried to relocate a rich gold claim. There happened to be an old, retired Army officer in the saloon who had listened intently to Adams story. This man was Captain Sanborn, who was considered a heavy drinker. However, he did not appear to be drunk at this particular time, and he answered Adams: “Sir, since the latter part of your speech concerns me, and it is most damaging to my character, I now take it upon myself to refute your statements and call you a contemptible, damned liar. I happened to be the commanding officer of Fort San Rafael at the time of which you are talking. I recall the day of which you speak very clearly and to my knowledge you never set foot in that Fort in your life. It could never be said truthfully that Cap Sanborn ever refused aid to anybody within a weeks march of my post who needed it.” “Who’s a damn liar?” bellowed Adams. “Yuh better eat them words cap, or me an’ you are agoin’ to tangle right here an’ now. Bigod! I don’t like army officers anyway, so I might as well wipe up th’ floor with one of ’em right now.” Saying which, he started for Sanborn. Cap Sanborn ran behind the lunch counter and grabbed a big butcher knife and jumped over the counter. Adams ran out the front door and Sanborn chased him for a couple of blocks shouting that Adams was the dirtiest liar that ever lived. He could not catch Adams, and returned to the saloon, where he again told everybody in hearing distance that Adams had not ever been to Fort San Rafael. From the above incident I drew the conclusion that Adams and Davidson never went to Fort San Rafael at all, but passed a considerable distance to the south in an effort to avoid it. They limped into the little town of Reserve, sorefooted and half-starved.

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It was in Reserve that Adams showed a couple of pieces of ore in quartz form that was exceedingly rich, and stated that it was from the mine he had found before the Indians had massacred his party. He made no mention of the California expedition. I later saw the same samples Adams had shown in Reserve and recalled that Adams had showed me one of the samples before he left Magdalena in 1864. He had told me then that he had given an Indian some whiskey for the samples and had promised him more if he would show him where he got the samples. If Adams story he told in Reserve about these samples had been true, there would indeed have been a substantial claim to his having found a rich mine. But to my knowledge, no ore of similar quality has ever been found, and the Indian who gave the samples to Adams must be long since dead and the place he found the samples will probably never be found. Adams didn’t dare show any of the gold at that time he had stolen and buried. Therefore he and Davidson separated, Adams going to Pima, Arizona to obtain money and supplies from friends to outfit an expedition to later come back and salvage the gold. Davidson went on a supposed visit to see some relatives in Louisiana. Adams was successful in his attempt to raise an expedition, and he sent for Davidson who returned from Louisiana and the expedition met him in Alma, a little town just south of Reserve. They could not find any gold, and Adams later made several solitary trips in search of it, but never had any luck. Several expeditions have been organized and sent forth in an effort to find the Adams Diggings, but all have met with defeat. It was in 1818 that I decided to see if I couldn’t find the bodies of the men who were massacred in Adams’ party. Adams had told me that they had camped about fifteen miles north of three peaks that rose up from the plain and were a considerable distance from any other mountains. I got to thinkin’ and the only three peaks I knew of between Gallup and Magdalena, were the Tres Montosas, which are only about fifteen miles west of Magdalena. Figuring about fifteen or twenty miles north of there, I went to North Lake. A few miles north of North Lake, I found the bodies of five men, all buried in one hole. I could find no clue to any gold from anything in the vicinity, so I came back to town and reported the finding of the bodies. It is my belief that the bodies I found were the remains of part of Adams expedition, but of course I can’t prove this. But there is one thing I do know. That is that an old fellow I know, found about twenty thousand dollars buried about five miles north of North Lake, and only a few miles from the place I discovered their bodies. This mans name is Jose Maria Jaramillo, and this what he

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told me. But when I asked him if the twenty thousand was in gold dust, he would not tell me. “That’s the way a lot of their old, ‘rich-nice’ stories get started,” finished old Bob. “I’ve heard that the definition of a miner is a damn liar with a hole in the ground. And a prospector is a damn liar without anything but a dang good imagination. You can talk to most of ’em, and dang near ever’ one of ’em tells you about some rich prospect they struck. But they’re always broke and beggin’ a grubstake. If their mines was half as rich as their imaginations, they could take a handpick, and a gold pan and make more money in a month than most bank presidents could by wearin’ out a half a dozen fountains pens. It’s true that sometimes a prospector does hit it rich, but when he does, he generally don’t talk and brag on it, but gets busy and gets some capital interested and starts workin’ it. That’s my story of the Adams Diggings. It is one of the richest mines in the world in the mind of a danged old liar like I knowed Ed Adams to be, and in the minds of a bunch of old, dream-crazy prospectors who ain’t got no more sense than to believe in it.”

THEM PETRIFIED BUZZARDS Tradition Bearer: Harry Reece Source: Bowman, Earl. “Interview of Harry Reece.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Arizona National Origin: European American

This tale, attributed to Steve Robertson and recounted by his nephew Harry Reece, develops a typical tall tale theme in its exaggerated focus on the rigors of the Arizona climate. More than a playful attempt to enhance a regional reputation, a narrative of this sort, by implication, increases the stature of those who are able to survive the rigorous natural elements they describe. In the present case, the survivors overcome a blistering summer whose heat petrifies buzzards in mid-air. Therefore,

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The Southwest | Them Petrified Buzzards

it functions as tongue-in-cheek bragging. The repudiation of lies and liars that precedes and follows this tale is a typical way of framing such narratives. Moreover, Uncle Steve’s tale, in relying on the audience’s ignorance of the West, is typical of the tall tales included in explorers’ accounts of their exploits. See, for example, the literary contributions of Karl Friedrich Hieronymus Baron von Münchhausen, an eighteenthcentury German aristocrat so noted for telling tall tales that his name became synonymous with the genre.

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y Uncle Steve Robertson was a native of the State of Missouri or Arkansas; he was not certain which, because he said he was born so close to the line that sometimes he thought it was on one side and sometimes on the other. He also said that one reason he didn’t remember which State it was, was because he started Out West when he was so young that it really didn’t matter whether he was born in Missouri or Arkansas; he was satisfied just to be born, and was willing to let it go at that. Anyway, my Uncle Steve Robertson was a great pioneer in his day, before any government irrigation projects were built in the West, and he knew all about shooting bear and deer and fighting Indians, and settling in out-of-theway places where people had to depend mostly on themselves and each other and there were not any electric lights or telephones or radios or WPA’s or PWA’s or AAA’s or things like that to distract their attentions, and post offices were quite far apart indeed. So, people depended to a large extent upon themselves and not to any great extent to or on anything else. My Uncle Steve’s idea of “Out West” was anywhere west of the east line of the Indian Territory (Uncle Steve never did get around to calling it “Oklahoma” because he said that that did not seem natural!)—he also thought that “Out West” was bounded on the south by the Big Bend country of the Rio Grande and on the north by the last peak of the Bitterroot Mountains in Idaho and which leaned over into Canada. So, Uncle Steve had quite a large idea of what “Out West” really was, and he also had quite a lot of experience with it. Naturally, also, my Uncle Steve Robertson accumulated a vast knowledge of and quite a few strange experiences during the many years he was a great “pioneer of the far ‘Out West’” and which, I am sorry to say, quite a lot of people in New York, and especially around the Washington Square district, do not yet realize ever existed—or for that matter may still exist to some extent.

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Also, my Uncle Steve used to say that the one damned thing he could not endure was ... “a danged double talkin’ liar ... one of them ‘rubber-tongued’ persons who could stretch the truth till she would crack, and keep on stretchin’ it, and still expect people to believe it.” My Uncle Steve always began his “tall tales,” (for I am afraid that they were “tall” tales, and some of them very tall indeed!) with the preliminary statement that he ‘just couldn’t stand any damn person that “’zagerates!” When we were on a fishing trip one time he told me about how the petrified forests of Arizona happened to be petrified—and also about ‘the petrified buzzards’ ... It was a hot and dry season and I had mentioned it because the water in the creek where we were fishing was almost all dried up, and that was Uncle Steve’s excuse to tell me about a really hot and dry season he once experienced in Arizona. “It was back in ... now danged if I remember jest which year it was back in,” Uncle Steve said, “but anyhow it was the year that old Geronimo was loaded on the train at Bowie, Arizona, when the government sent him to Florida to keep him from butchering people in Arizona. Well, that was the year that it was in, and it shore-as-hell was a hot and dry year in Arizona. “Bob White an’ me had a little cow outfit in partnership down close to the Mexican line, and we was gettin’ along pretty well. We’d took up some land ... about two sections ... and dug some wells and built some ditches so we could irrigate a little ground around the place. We had windmills to pump water out of the wells into a pond and the ditches, and our nine or ten hundred head of cattle had pretty good feed on the range. And outside of havin’ to shoot a few Apaches now and then, before the government got rid of them, we was doin’ fairly well and was contented enough, I reckon. “At first, ‘Mam’ White, that was Bob’s wife, was a little lonesome because there wasn’t no frogs to croak down by th’ pond or along th’ ditches at night. She said she plumb missed frogs a-croakin’ an’ if there was jest some frogs she could hear croak of a’ evenin’ she’d be about as happy as she used to be back in Slippery Elm County, Arkansas, where she was born, and her pa and ma still lived. Well, Bob was always sentimental and he fixed it for Mam. He sent back to Arkansas and had a few settin’s of frog eggs sent out to her. So, Mam set ’em an’ they hatched out jest fine, and before long, when the sun went down behind old Apache Peak of an’ evenin’, frogs was croakin’ all over th’ place and Mam was plumb happy. “Like I said, everything was goin’ smooth an’ pleasant and we was prosperous till it began to get hot and dry one summer ... hotter an’ dryer, I-Gawd, than anybody’d ever knowed it to be in that part of Arizona before, an’ the first thing

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The Southwest | Them Petrified Buzzards

me realized them damn pumps wasn’t suckin’ nothing out of them wells but hot air, and th’ alfalfa was withered and Mam’s marigolds she’d planted by the side of the house was all dead and dried up, too. “And in addition to that, them nine or ten hundred head of cattle Bob an’ me had out there on th’ range was staggerin’ around, so cussed thirsty an’ dried out, that when they’d walk their livers and hearts and lungs or whatever was loose inside of them would rattle against their hides like seeds shakin’ around in a ripe gourd. Yeah, that’s jest th’ way they’d sound! And when one of them got tired walkin’ around, hearin’ hisself or herself as the case might be, rattlin’ like a gourd that ain’t got nothin’ in it but some seeds, and finally laid down, well, danged if he or she or it didn’t jest naturally petrify, plumb solid. That’s when them poor buzzards got a awful shock. “They’d be wheelin’ around, jest wheelin’ around watchin’ for a cow or a steer brute to topple over, and as soon as they’d see one topple, down they’d swoop thinkin’ they’d make a meal on it, and when they’d try to take a bite out of that petrified carcass they’d bust their poor bills off, and there they was ... plumb helpless, so they’d topple over, too—and in a minute they’d be petrified themselves! “Well, the rest of them damn buzzards that hadn’t come down and was still wheelin’ ’round up there in the hell-blisterin’ heat and dryness, would wonder what th’ hell had happened to their brother buzzards, layin’ down there all petrified beside them petrified cattle; they’d be scairt to come down, and jest keep on wheelin’ and wheelin’ and gettin’ more and more bewildered till damned if they wouldn’t petrify themselves up there in the sky without ever knowin’ it— and that’s the way it was.... Thousands and thousands, hell, millions of buzzards jest wheelin’ and wheelin’ around ’way up in that hot, sizzlin’ Arizona atmosphere—and all so damned petrified they couldn’t do nothin’ but keep on wheelin’ and wheelin’ without ever makin’ a sound or flappin’ a doggone wing— Gawd, it was a gruesome sight! “Yeah, them damned buzzards—all petrified and everything jest wheelin’ and wheelin’ around up there in th’ sky, was a terrible thing to look at, but, I-Gawd, bad off as they was they didn’t suffer as much as them poor wild hydrophobia cats that got so dry that they couldn’t even foam at th’ mouth when they’d have hydrophobia fits.... That was one of the pitifullest sights I ever seen. A poor hydrophobia cat tryin’ to foam at th’ mouth when he’s havin’ a fit, and not be able to do nothin’ only spit out a little stream of dry, kind of chalky dust, instead of good rich foam like he’d naturally do! It sure as hell was pitiful to look at... “But them hydrophobia cats wasn’t no worse off than all them poor ants jest crawlin’ around on the sand under th’ blazin’ sun, without a drop to drink, jest swelterin’ and dryin’ up till eventually they’d be in such agony they’d double

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over an’ bite themselves on their own belly-band, an’ commit suicide an’ perish in misery ... Gawd, I’ll bet ten billion ants ... damn nice big red Arizona ants committed suicide on our ranch alone! It’s a awful thing to see a poor damn ant so thirsty an’ hot an’ dried out that it doubles over an’ gnaws its own belly-band in two ... It sure is. “Still, I reckon th’ worst sufferin’ was done by them miserable danged frogs; all them frogs Mam had hatched out from them settin’s of frog eggs Bob had had sent out from Arkansas ... They got so dry, they jest kind of shriveled up and all wrinkled sort-of-like, well, like a prune that has been layin’ out in th’ sun too long. That’s jest th’ way their hides looked—jest shriveled up an’ wrinkled like a prune, or worse. But th’ worst of it was when they didn’t have no water to waller in any more, and sort of soak ’em up; I-Gawd, when the sun would go down behind old Apache Peak an’ them poor frogs would open their mouths and try to croak, like Mam loved to hear ’em do of an evenin’, all th’ poor damn things could do was jest sort of whistle.... It was terrible, th’ most agonizin’ and heart-wrenchin’ thing anybody can imagine. Yes, sir, I-Gawd, if you ever saw a poor shriveled frog tryin’ to croak, and not be able to get anything out but jest a measly little damn whistle, it’s th, saddest thing you ever saw! “It sure was distressin’.... Them poor frogs gaspin’ out little dinky whistles instead of good solid croaks, was what settled it. When it got that dry, Mam, Bob’s wife, couldn’t stand it no longer. She’d listen to them frogs tryin’ to croak—and jest break down with grief. She jest couldn’t stand it. So, finally, after all then buzzards was petrified and most of them ants had committed suicide and them hydrophobia cats ’most plumb forgot how to foam at the mouth, and at last them helpless cussed frogs was whistlin’ ’stead of croakin’, Mam said to me an’ Bob one day: “We’re goin’ to move out of this cussed place, Bob White and Steve Robertson. When it gets so danged dry that even a buzzard petrifies and even a frog can’t croak, I-Gawd, it’s time to go somewhere else.” That’s what Mam said. And Bob an’ me always did believe in lettin’ the women folks have their way, so, I-Gawd, we moved. An’ damned if I know whether it ever did rain an’ bust th’ dry spell, or not. Maybe it did an’ maybe it didn’t. But while we was present it was one hell of a dry spell—and I imagine if anybody went down there to that part of Arizona they could still see some of them petrified trees layin’ around on the ground (’cause—while I didn’t mention it before—even most of th’ damn trees got to be petrified, too, before things was done with)— an’ I also imagine that anybody would probably see some of them poor petrified buzzards still wheelin’ an’ wheelin’ and wheelin’ around and around, ’way up there in the air ... never makin’ a sound an’ never flappin’ a wing ... Jest petrified as hell, an’ unable to do anything about it!”

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The Southwest | Meteor Hell! Cicero Done It

My Uncle Steve Robertson was a very great pioneer in his day, and no doubt had many wonderful and thrilling experiences in the very far Out West, and— as I said before—he was one of those sturdy old ex-Rebel soldiers who could not “endure a danged liar an’ depised any ornery man that ’xaggerates.” Perhaps that is why I loved him; he was my favorite Uncle ... the one with whom I liked best to go fishing, or on camping-out trips.

METEOR HELL! CICERO DONE IT Tradition Bearer: Harry Reece Source: Bowman, Earl. “Interview of Harry Reece.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: Arizona National Origin: European American

As was the case with the previous narrative, “Them Petrified Buzzards” (p. 98) this tall tale is attributed to “Uncle” Steve Robertson and recounted by his nephew Harry Reece. Like “Buzzards,” “Meteor Hell” is a typical in its exaggerated focus on the rigors of the Arizona climate. The narrator further adopts a persona who lies with the greatest sincerity while cursing “some danged liars.” As is commonly the case with tall tales, this story abounds with pseudo-verifications as in the tale’s quote, “if they don’t believe you, take ’em out there an’ show them th’ Hole, its still there ain’t it? They can see for themselves th’ damned thing’s there—An’ that ought to be proof enough for anybody.”

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y Uncle Steve Robertson told me how the “Great Hole” (which some people think was made by a meteor) happens to be out in the very middle of the vast, almost level Arizona desert. He told me about it one night when we were camped over in the Lost River country where we had gone

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with a pack outfit, aiming ultimately to get up into the Stanley Basin part of the Sawtooth Mountains and perhaps get ourselves a mountain sheep or, if our luck was good, maybe a mountain goat. My Uncle Steve was such a great pioneer in the very Far West that there were few things indeed whether of natural, human or animal phenomenon of those early-settler days which he could not tell about and that too with the greatest of sincerity. So, Uncle Steve told me about the “Big Hole.” We had been out through the “lavas” where there are many strange sinkholes, lava-pots, and other weird and ghostly formations in the volcanic desolation of that mighty interesting corner of Idaho. (I think that it has been made into a National Park by the Government and is now called “The Craters of The Moon”). Anyhow, it’s fascinating and one kind of feels like he is ... on the desolate Moon when he is wandering around in the silence that is always there. After supper, both of us entirely full of Little Lost River trout, we were lying by the camp fire listening to the coyotes and just sort of thinking ... maybe about what we’d seen that day, so I mentioned to Uncle Steve that once down in Arizona I had come onto a Great Hole, several hundred feet deep and nearly a mile across from lip to lip, right out there in the flat desert and as far as I could see there wasn’t the slightest excuse for it being there. But some people, I told my Uncle Steve, had the idea that a big meteor had fallen there one time and caved in the earth and that probably that was why the hole was there. My Uncle Steve then told me just how it happened. “Yeah, I-Gawd, since you mention it, I remember that damned hole out there in Arizony,” my Uncle Steve exclaimed. “In fact, by gosh, Bob White and me was right there and practically saw it made.... But, Meteor, hell, Cicero done it. ’Twant no dammed meteor a-tall! “But maybe, to be plumb reliable an’ truthful an’ not ’xaggerate an’ stretch things like some danged liars does, Bob an’ me wasn’t on the ’xact spot where th’ hole is when she was made, an’ maybe we didn’t ’xactly see th’ cussed thing made, but I-Gawd we was as clost as anybody ought to be an’ we sure as hell heard her when she was made. They ain’t no doubtin’ that! “An’ like I said, twasn’t no cussed ‘meteor’ that made it. ‘Cicero’ which was Bob’s and my goat done it an’ he done a hell of a good job when he done it. “That was one thing I admired about ‘Cicero.’ He was one of th’ thoroughest damned goats I ever seen an’ when he done anything whether it was eatin’, or buttin’ or, I-Gawd, even smellin’ he done it right or he didn’t do it a-tall.... Fer instance, if Cicero started to eatin’ anything he et it all ’fore he’d quit, if he

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started to buttin’ anything he’d keep buttin’ the danged thing till he busted it or butted it out of his way, that’s all there was to it; an’ when it come to smellin’, well, hell there jest ain’t no describin’ how p’rsistent he was about that! “But Cicero was a Papago Injun goat (to be plumb honest an’ truthful, Bob an’ me stole him from some Papago Injuns an’ thats how we come to have him in the’ first place) an’ that’s that way the Papago Injun goats is. They ain’t nothin’ they won’t undertake an’ when they undertake it, I-Gawd they finish it up. “Bob an’ me’d never possessed a goat back in Arkansas an’ natcherally when him an’ me an’ Mam (she was Bob’s wife) went out to Arizony an’ we heard about th’ buttin’ power of them Papago Injun goats, Bob an’ me thought that by rights we ought to git ourselves one jest to see if all we’d heard about ’em was th’ truth, besides we figgered that probably we’d need one some time.... ’Cause we’d heard how powerful they was in an emergency when it come to buttin’. Why, I-Gawd all th’ freighters haulin’ ore from Bisbee an’ so forth always had a Papago Injun goat in their outfit so’s when they’d git stuck in th’ sand with a load of ore an’ their six or eight mule-team couldn’t budge it they’d jest take their Papago Goat back a ways an’ turn him loose an’ tell him to butt th’ hind end of their wagon an’ I’ Gawd he’d butt her a couple of butts an’ away they’d go! What them six or eight mules couldn’t do, that danged Papago Injun goat could accomplish with jest a few brief butts. “So, when Bob an’ me got a chance we stole Cicero an’ took him home. “Mam (Bob’s wife) wasn’t so hellish enthusiastic about Cicero when she first saw him. “‘My Gawd,’ Mam says when she saw Bob an’ me leadin’ Cicero up to the ranch, ‘what have you danged fools gone an’ brang home now? Ain’t there enough disagreeable features on this cussed desert out here in Arizony without you goin’ an’ gittin’ a doggone Papago Injun goat for a body to be dodgin’ an’ also smellin’ all th’ time? Jest when I’m gittin’ used to smellin’ Arizony skunks an’ Arizony vinagaroons an’ Arizony carrion when a steer or cow dies an’ the buzzards let it ripen too long before cleanin’ it up, I-Gawd you go an’ bring home a danged Papago Injun goat for me to also smell. When I married you, Bob White, I promised to “love, honor an’ obey” but darned if I promised to smell Papago Injun goats for you! So, you can take him right back where you got him or take him out behind th’ corral an’ shoot him, I don’t give a dang which, before he butts th’ britches off of you an’ Steve Robertson an’ smells me out of house an’ home!’ “But Bob he always had a soothin’ way with wimmen so he jest said, ‘Why, Mam, Steve an’ me thought Cicero would be a kind of surprise to you an’ we stole him jest so you could have somethin’ else to smell a while besides them other things an’ he’d be a sort of change for you—But now you go an’ scold us

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for bringin’ him home! You’ve plumb hurt our feelin’s Mam ’cause we brung him home jest for you an’ now you go an’ ... an’ ... resent him! I-Gawd, you see, Steve,’ Bob says, ‘that’s the way it is—A Man goes an’ does his damndest to do somethin’ for a woman like stealin’ a goat for her to smell or something an’ then she gives him hell for it! That’s th’ way wimmen is, they never appreciate nothin’ an’ I-Gawd I don’t blame you for shyin’ off from ’em like you do Steve an’ never gittin’ married or nothin’....’ “Bob winked at me when he said it an’ ’course I knowed he was jest ‘softtalkin’ Mam but I-Gawd it worked an’ Mam repented and said, ‘Alright, dadgum you, Bob White—you know cussed well no woman can resist that, danged honey-tongue-of yourn—If it hadn’t been for it I’d still be down in Arkansas enjoyin’ paw-paws an’ persimmons in Mam an’ Pap’s peaceful home down on th’ old Sac River! So, you an’ Steve Robertson can keep your cussed Papago Injun goat but I’m promising you one thing and that is that if he ever butts me once I’ll bust him twice! I’ll smell Him ... but I’ll be danged if I’ll be butted by him, that’s all there is to it, Bob White!’ “So, Bob an’ me kept Cicero an’ if we hadn’t there probably wouldn’t be that damned Big Hole out in th’ middle of that Arizony desert you mentioned a while ago. “To start with, that danged hole wasn’t a hole but was Injun Head Butts ... one of them cussed mountains that sticks itself right up all alone as if it doesn’t want any other mountain neighbors close to it.... Sort of like Big Butte, over there th’ other side of Lost River Sinks, where we was today. “An’ Injun Butte was practically solid rock to begin with ... jest a great big bump of rock stickin’ up out of the’ desert.... Then, I Gawd, Cicero turned that damned Butte into a hole in th’ ground! “Yeah, it wasn’t no danged ‘Meteor,’ Cicero done it. “I-Gawd, I ought to know. Bob White an’ Mam an’ me an’ Cicero was there when it happened ... After it happened, well, Bob an’ Mam an’ me was still there but where th’ hell Cicero was ... that’s a mystery nobody ain’t ever solved yet an’ I don’t reckon they ever will! “It happened th’ year before th’ big dry spell, th’ one I told you about, maybe you remember it, when it got so dry an’ hot that even th’ damned buzzards wheelin’ around up in th’ sky an’ practically everything else includin’ th’ cattle an’ the trees out in th’ forest jest up an’ petrified from th’ heat and th’ dryness. “Well, Bob an’ Mam an’ me decided to take a trip up to North Arizony an’ see if maybe there wasn’t better grazin’ for our cattle up there than there was down along th’ Santa Cruz river in south Arizony where we’d started our cowoutfit when we come out from Arkansaw, so we travelled up there.

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“Natcherally, Cicero went along. Bob an’ me had trained him to go along with us wherever we went with a wagon-outfit so if we got stuck in the sand he could butt us out like th’ ore freighters had their Papago Injun goats do when they got stuck. “So, we got up there to where there was a little spring ... Arsenic Springs they called it ’cause th’ water would physic anybody worse than hell but it was all there was an’ they had to drink it anyhow ... about two miles from old Injun Head Butte an’ we camped there. “Everything would a’ been all right only there was a couple of prospectors already camped there who was figgerin’ on doin’ some prospectin’ on Injun Head Butte ’cause a old Hopi Injun Chief had told ’em there was a lost gold mine somewhere on th’ Butte. “Them damned prospectors had a whole burro load of dynamite with them an’ had spread it out in th’ shade of a Joshua tree to sort of cool off and ... well, to make a long story short, while Bob an’ Mam an’ me was gittin’ our camp set an’ not payin’ much attention to Cicero th’ damn fool found that dynamite an’ ’fore he quit he’d et every last cussed stick of it! Th’ first thing Bob an’ me knowed about what had happened was when one of th’ prospectors ... Dirty Shirt Smith was his name ... caught Cicero jest swallerin’ th’ last damned stick of dynamite they had, an’ he come runnin’ over to our camp yellin’—‘Hey, your cussed doggone goat has et up all our dynamite every damned drop of it! Now, how th’ hell is Solemn Johnson (that was th’ other prospector’s name) an’ me goin’ to do any balstin’ to find that damned lost gold mine that old Injun Chief told us was on Injun Head Butte? How th’ hell are we goin’ to—You gotta pay us for that dynamite your goat et!’ “I ain’t worryin’ about payin’ for your damned dynamite,’ Bob up an’ told him. ‘What I’m worryin’ about is that cussed goat runnin’ loose around here with all that high explosive in him. If he ever gits th’ idea that ’cause our wagon’s standin’ still we’re stuck an’ need buttin’ out, or if he starts in to practicin’ buttin’ like Pago Injun goats does, well, Gawd help us all, that’s all I can say!’ “Mam she got excited too an’ says, ‘Bob White, for Gawd’s sakes, you an’ Steve Robertson figger out some scheme to keep that goat from stirrin’ around much till he either sweats all that dynamite out of his system or digests it or something. If he goes off anywheres clost to us there wont be nothin’ but fragments of us left! For Gawd’s sake tie him up or something but do it an far away from camp as possible—Maybe you’d ought to give him a dose of castor oil, that might help!’ Mam says. “‘Yeah,’ Bob says, ‘an’ who th’ hell would straddle him an’ hold him while I’m givin’ it to him ... an’ take a chance of him goin’ off while they’re straddle of him?’ “Mam realized th’ danger of it an’ didn’t insist on us givin’ Cicero castor oil.

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“So Bob an’ took Cicero an’ tied him to a Joshua tree about a hundred yards from camp an’ everything seemed safe an’ sound for th’ time being. “Mam, she quieted down an’ after supper we all went to bed ... lettin’ the’ white Arizony moonlight stream over th’ desert calm an’ serene like. “Fore I went to bed I looked out where Cicero was tied an’ he was layin’ there peaceful an’ quiet as if eatin’ sixty or seventy sticks of dynamite was jest a incident an’ didn’t have no significance a-tall. “Bout three o’clock in th’ mornin’ I reckon it was I waked up all of a sudden with a sort of p’resentiment—I think that’s what you call it when you think somethin’ terrible’s about to happen—pressin’ down on me. Anyhow, I felt it i’ my marrow that Gawd only knowed what might take place any minute. “Natcherally, when I was a little awaker I remember about Cicero eatin’ that dynamite an’ the first thing I done was to peer out through th’ moonlight an’ see if he was still tied to th’ Joshua tree an’ still keepin’ still till th’ dynamite was absorbed out of his system— “I-Gawd, that’s when I got a shock. Cicero was gone. “He’d gnawed his rope in two an’ escaped. “Then I snuck over to where Bob was sleepin’ an’ shook him an’ says, ‘Bob, fer Gawd’s sake wake up! Cicero’s loose an’ prowlin’ around somewhere with all that dynamite in him an’ Gawd only knows what’s liable to happen!’ “Bob waked up and says, ‘My Gawd, Steve, don’t wake Mam ... she’s tired an’ needs her rest (Bob was always like that, awful considerate of Mam) an’ besides if she wakes up an’ realizes Cicero’s loose she’ll raise hell an’ I’m too dammed worried to have any woman raisin’ hell with me at this time of night! But where th’ hell do you reckon Cicero’s gone to, Steve?’ “‘Danged if I know,’ I told Bob, ‘but th’ chances is he’s wanderin’ around in th’ moonlight huntin’ something to practice buttin’ on—Only, I-Gawd,’ I says, ‘if he find it I hope to Gawd it’s a good ways from camp!’ “‘I-Gawd, so do I,’ Bob said. An’ then it happened— “Sounded jest exactly like th’ world had come to a end. “Th’ long an’ th’ short of it was, th’ next mornin’ there wasn’t no danged Injun Head Butte out there on th’ Arizony desert. There was jest a hell of a big hole in th’ ground where she had been. Bob an’ me knowed what had happened. “Cicero had wandered around huntin’ somethin’ to practice butting on an’ in that moonlight he’d saw Injun Head Butte. She looked danged good an’ solid so he thought he’d practice on her. An’, natcherally, when he hit here with all that dynamite in him he jest went off. That’s all there was to it. “An’ when he went off he jest ripped old Injun Head Butte out by th’ roots ... an’ there couldn’t be nothin’ left but jest a hole where she had been!

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The Southwest | The Coyote and the Woodpecker

“So, that’s the way it was—An’ I don’t give a dang what anybody says— even them cussed ‘scientists’ that thinks they know such a hell of a lot ... an’ [calim] that that Big Hole out in Arizony was made by a meteor... [They] gits crazy ideas sometimes. They jost don’t know th’ inside story of them things like us Pioneers of th’ Far West does, that’s all. “But th’ next time anybody tells you that that hole was made by a ‘meteor’ jest tell them, ‘Meteor hell, Cicero done it’. “An’ I-Gawd, if they don’t believe you, take ’em out there an’ show them th’ Hole, its still there ain’t it? They can see for themselves th’ damned thing’s there—An’ that ought to be proof enough for anybody.”

THE COYOTE AND THE WOODPECKER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Lummis, Charles. “The Coyote and the Woodpecker.” Pages 49–52 in Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories. New York: Century, 1910. Date: 1910. Original Source: Isleta Pueblo (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

This story of the trickster trying to imitate another occurs in other variants in the Southwest (See, for example, the Jicarilla Apache, “Tales of Fox: Fox and Kingfisher,” p. 116). As in the tale types designated by folklorist Stith Thompson as animal tales, “The Coyote and the Woodpecker” offers a moral lesson. The philosophy of acceptance and noncompetitiveness is consistent with general Pueblo worldview and morality.

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ell, once upon a time a Coyote and his family lived near the edge of a wood. There was a big hollow tree there, and in it lived an old Woodpecker and his wife and children. One day as the Coyote-father was strolling along the edge of the forest he met the Woodpecker-father. “Good evening,” said the Coyote; how do you do today, friend?”

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“Very well, thank you; and how are you, friend?” So they stopped and talked together awhile; and when they were about to go apart the Coyote said: “Friend Woodpecker, why do you not come as friends to see us? Come to our house to supper this evening, and bring your family.” “Thank you, friend Coyote,” said the Woodpecker; “we will come with joy.” So that evening, when the Coyote-mother had made supper ready, there came the Woodpecker-father and the Woodpecker-mother with their three children. When they had come in, all five of the Woodpeckers stretched themselves as they do after flying, and by that showed their pretty feathers—for the Woodpecker has yellow and red marks under its wings. While, they were eating supper, too, they sometimes spread their wings, and displayed their bright underside. They praised the supper highly, and said the Coyote-mother was a perfect housekeeper. When it was time to go, they thanked the Coyotes very kindly and invited them to come to supper at their house the following evening. But when they were gone, the Coyote-father could hold himself no longer, and he said: “Did you see what airs those Woodpeckers put on? Always showing off their bright feathers? But I want them to know that the Coyotes are equal to them. I’ll show them!” Next day, the Coyote-father had all his family at work bringing wood, and built a great fire in front of his house. When it was time to go to the house of the Woodpeckers he called his wife and children to the fire, and lashed a burning stick under each of their arms, with the burning end pointing forward; and then he fixed himself in the same way. “Now,” said he, “we will show them! When we get there, you must lift up your arms now and then, to show them that we are as good as the Woodpeckers.” When they came to the house of the Woodpeckers and went in, all the Coyotes kept lifting their arms often, to show the bright coals underneath. But as they sat down to supper, one Coyote-girl gave a shriek and said: “Oh, papa! My fire is burning me!” “Be patient, my daughter,” said the Coyote-father, severely, “and do not cry about little things.” “Ow!” cried the other Coyote-girl in a moment, “my fire has gone out!” This was more than the Coyote-father could stand, and he reproved her angrily. “But how is it, friend Coyote,” said the Woodpecker, politely, “that your colors are so bright at first, but very soon become black?” “Oh, that is the beauty of our colors,” replied the Coyote, smothering his rage; “that they are not always the same—like other people’s—but turn all shades.”

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The Southwest | Some of Coyote’s Adventures

But the Coyotes were very uncomfortable, and made an excuse to hurry home as soon as they could. When they got there, the Coyote-father whipped them all for exposing him to be laughed at. But the Woodpecker-father gathered his children around him, and said: “Now, my children, you see what the Coyotes have done. Never in your life try to appear what you are not. Be just what you really are, and put on no false colors.”

SOME OF COYOTE’S ADVENTURES Tradition Bearer: Juan Dolores Source: Kroeber, Henriette Rothschild. “Papago Coyote Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 340–42. Date: ca. 1909 Original Source: Papago (Arizona) National Origin: Native American

The Papago are members of a desert culture, different branches of which maintain two different means of subsistence: either they practice hunting and gathering in the harsh environment, or they practice agriculture using irrigation or flood-farming depending on the availability of the water supply. The following tale shows the trickster, Coyote, at his worst. He will not provide for his family, preferring to be a nuisance and a drain on limited community resources until his wife strikes at his pride. Coyote demonstrates supernatural power by bewitching small animals through song, but, in an ironic reversal, he is enthralled in the same fashion by even smaller and weaker animals. Throughout the narrative, Coyote is manipulated by these smaller, weaker creatures that exploit his character flaws. Overall, the tale is a portrait of trickster at his least admirable and most deceitful.

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short time after Coyote married, he became careless about his appearance, and grew sleepy, lazy, and indifferent. There came a time when he had to provide for four children.

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To hunt deer was hard work, so he and his wife went about visiting relatives. When they were given food, they always called the children, so that they could eat too. The women said many ugly things about them, and these finally reached the ears of his wife. One night she became enraged at what was told her. She ordered Coyote to hunt. She refused to continue begging, and said, unless he decided to provide for her and the children, she would return to her father. Coyote’s pride was touched at being ordered about by a woman, and being spoken to in such harsh terms. In the morning he went out. He said, “I will not chase deer all day. I will kill birds or little beasts, for any meat is sweet when one is hungry. I will play my tricks and catch game.” He walked along and soon came within sight of a flock of quail. He commenced singing a song, something like— “Little quail, what are you thinking about, flying away so quickly?” This song he repeated until all but one quail had flown. He stopped singing then, and said,— “That is good, one is left. I shall catch it and make a meal of it.” He set about his self-imposed task, caught and devoured the bird, well satisfied with a good meal. For a time he rested, and then went leisurely along until he came to a grassy valley. There he came on a gathering, and sang a song, as follows:— “Little rats, little rats, There you are running, One stumbles and falls, It is crippled and cannot run.” In this way Coyote is enabled to catch a rat. But not satisfied with one as a meal, he repeats the luring chant three times more, and each time successfully catches food. On four rats he has fed this time, satisfied his hunger, and goes on. He leaves the valley and climbs the mountain. There he comes to a cave, which is full of flies. He tells them, “Flies, you are making fun of me.” They answer, “No, uncle, we are singing because we are glad to see you. We need some help. Panther comes here to sleep. When he goes to sleep, if anyone by accident touches his whiskers, he wakes up, growls, paws over the cave, and kills many of us.” The flies, knowing Coyote, are ready to trick him, and instead of a song of welcome, they hum, and ask Coyote to dance. The dance excites Coyote and makes him dizzy. During the singing and dancing, Coyote is asked continually

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The Southwest | Some of Coyote’s Adventures

not to forget to lend his aid in killing Panther. The words fascinate him, and he helps chant the verses. “Flies, flies, Are closing up the cave, Closing up the cave. Whoever flies out Must keep a straight path, For the opening is narrowing.” He is unable to distinguish how their numbers lessen, and how, at the end of each rhythmic bar, several flies escape through the narrow opening, until the last one wings his way out, leaving only a little air hole. Only when the last fly is gone, and the victim is left alone, does he come face to face with the fact that he has been unaware of all that transpired about him, and that he is enclosed in the cave. He is compelled to wait for Panther, and hopes to be released unharmed on the plea of relationship. Panther comes. Seeing the cave closed up except for a little air hole, he looks in and sees Coyote, his uncle, his mother’s brother. Anger overcomes him, and he accuses Coyote of having closed the cave. He roars and paws the ground, and in his rage breaks into the cave, catches Coyote, and is about to kill him. Coyote begs to live a moment longer. He wants to pray to Tsi’iho to care for his wife and his children. He tells his nephew,— “Listen until you hear a whistle. Then rush behind the brush and kill me quickly.” Coyote then goes behind a bush, making a pretence of prayer. On his way he catches a ground squirrel, and carries him to a safe hiding-place. After some moments he buries the squirrel upright in the ground. Coyote then says, “Be quiet, I will return.” He runs off, and escapes. The little squirrel remains quiet for some time, then becomes restless and wishes to free himself from the ground. He is unable to effect it himself. In ground-squirrel fashion, he emits his call, which is like a low whistle. This attracts Panther, who follows the sound, and to his astonishment sees the embedded squirrel. He roars, “What are you doing here?” In a feeble trembling voice the squirrel explains. Panther is satisfied, and the squirrel is turned loose. After all this escapade, Coyote gets thirsty. He looks for water. He comes to a dried-up pond. In a crack in the mud is a cricket singing a song. Coyote thinks the cricket is making fun of him, and decides to look for the little chirper, but it is a vain endeavor. He is about to turn away. This encourages the cricket, which again sings, this time in truth making fun of the trickster.

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In one verse he ridicules his eyes because they are all tear-stained. In the second he makes fun of his tail, which is scraggy and turned downward, instead of as in early youth, thick, bushy, and carried erect. Gleefully the cricket continues his song. Coyote, not able to resist the temptation, returns to seek the mocker anew. Again thwarted, he determines not to turn again, but to continue his way into the valley. He walks along listlessly, and unobservant that it has rained and snowed in the high mountains, and that the water is rushing down into the valley. He walks along drowsily and tired, heedless of the fact that the water is about to overtake him. Suddenly he looks around, and to his consternation sees what is happening. In haste he climbs a tree and sits waiting for the waters to recede. While he is perched there, a Crane flies into a neighboring tree. Gleefully the bird sings,— “It is going down, It is going down, It is getting less, It is getting less, It has gone down.” To prove that such is the fact, each time that he comes to the word “down,” he stretches out his foot and brings up some mud to show that the water is receding. Coyote repeats the bird’s song, and imitates the action. Having shorter legs, and being in a higher tree, his efforts are of no avail, and he remains treed. When the water is low enough, the Crane steps down and invites his neighbor to do likewise. Unwilling to be taunted, Coyote accepts the invitation. But the water is still high and the current strong, and he is carried along with the stream. He is almost drowned. He calls for help. Out of sheer pity the Crane comes to his rescue and carries him ashore. Coyote thanks him, and explains that the accident is due to the Crane’s having longer legs than he. Many insincere thanks are spoken by Coyote to his rescuer, and he says, “Since you have saved my life, I will try to do something good for you some of these days.”

TALES OF FOX Tradition Bearer: Laforia Source: Russell, Frank. “Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 265–68.

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The Southwest | Tales of Fox

Date: ca. 1898 Original Source: Jicarilla Apache (New Mexico) National Origin: Native American

Fox is the Jicarilla trickster. His reputation as a trickster with potentially weaknesses precedes him, leading both Deer and Rabbit to exploit his foolish nature. The cruel results of their pranks may seem unmotivated, but practical jokes with sadistic results are common in trickster tales. Also common is the explanation of features such as the Fox’s characteristic cry and eye color. “Fox and Kingfisher” portrays Coyote trying to play the host in an episode reminiscent of “The Coyote and the Woodpecker” (p. 109). Fox’s invitations and imitations, in “Fox and Kingfisher” and in “Fox and Mountain Lion,” are motivated more by the desire to impress than to be hospitable. The final “tar baby” episode is only the most obvious of many borrowed features in the tale.

Fox and Deer

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s Fox was going along he met a Deer with two spotted fawns beside her. “What have you done,” said he, “to make your children spotted like that?” “I made a big fire of cedar wood and placed them before it. The sparks thrown off burned the spots which you see,” answered the Deer. Fox was pleased with the color of the fawns, so he went home and told his children to gather cedar wood for a large fire. When the fire was burning well, he put the young foxes in a row before the fire, as he supposed the Deer had done. When he found that they did not change color, he pushed them into the fire and covered them with ashes, thinking he had not applied sufficient heat at first. As the fire went out, he saw their white teeth gleaming where the skin had shriveled away and exposed them. “Ah, you will be very pretty now,” said he. Fox pulled his offspring from the ashes, expecting to find them much changed in color, and so they were—black, shrivelled, and dead. Fox next thought of revenge upon the Deer, which he found in a grove of cottonwoods. He built a fire around them, but they ran through it and escaped.

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Fox was so disappointed that he set up a cry of woe, a means of expression, which he has retained from that day to this.

Fox and Kingfisher

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s Fox went on his way he met Kingfisher, whom he accompanied to his home. Kingfisher said that he had no food to offer his visitor, so he would go and catch some fish for Fox. He broke through six inches of ice on the river and caught two fish, which he cooked and set before his guest. Fox was pleased with his entertainment, and invited the Kingfisher to return the call. In due time the Kingfisher came to the home of the Fox, who said, “I have no food to offer you;” then he went down to the river, thinking to secure fish in the same manner as the Kingfisher had done. Fox leaped from the high bank, but instead of breaking through the ice he broke his head and killed himself. Kingfisher went to him, caught him up by the tail, and swung Fox around to the right four times, thereby restoring him to life. Kingfisher caught some fish, and they ate together. “I am a medicine-man,” said Kingfisher; “that is why I can do these things. You must never try to catch fish in that way again.” After the departure of Kingfisher, Fox paid a visit to the home of Prairiedog, where he was cordially received. Prairie-dog put four sticks, each about a foot in length, in the ashes of the camp-fire; when these were removed, they proved to be four nicely roasted prairie-dogs, which were served for Fox’s dinner. Fox invited the Prairie-dog to return the visit, which in a short time the latter did. Fox placed four sticks in the fire to roast, but they were consumed by it, and instead of palatable food to set before his guest he had nothing but ashes. Prairie-dog said to Fox, “You must not attempt to do that. I am a medicineman; that is why I can transform the wood to flesh.” Prairie-dog then prepared a meal as he done before, and they dined. Fox went to visit Buffalo, who exclaimed, “What shall I do? I have no food to offer you.” Buffalo was equal to the emergency, however; he shot an arrow upward, which struck in his own back as it returned. When he pulled this out, a kidney and the fat surrounding it came out also. This he cooked for Fox, and added a choice morsel from his own nose. As usual, Fox extended an invitation to his host to return the visit. When Buffalo came to call upon Fox, the latter covered his head with weeds in imitation of the head of the Buffalo. Fox thought he could provide food for their dinner as the Buffalo had done, so fired an arrow into the air; but when

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it came close to him on its return flight, he became frightened and ran away. Buffalo then furnished meat for their meal as on the previous occasion. “You must not try this,” said he; “I am a medicine-man; that is why I have the power.” Some time afterward, as Fox was journeying along, he met an Elk, lying beside the trail. He was frightened when he saw the antlers of the Elk moving, and jumped to avoid what seemed to be a falling tree. “Sit down beside me,” said the Elk. “Don’t be afraid.” “The tree will fall on us,” replied Fox. “Oh, sit down; it won’t fall. I have no food to offer you, but I will provide some.” The Elk cut steaks from his own quarter, which the Fox ate, and before leaving Fox invited the Elk to return the visit. When Elk came to see Fox, the latter tried unsuccessfully to cut flesh from his own meagre flanks; then he drove sharpened sticks into his nose, and allowed the blood to run out upon the grass. This he tried in vain to transform into meat, and again he was indebted to his guest for a meal. “I am a medicine-man; that is why I can do this,” said Elk.

Fox and Mountain Lion

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ox could find nothing to eat for a long time, so that he grew weak and thin. While on a journey in search of food he met the Mountain Lion, who, taking pity upon his unhappy condition, said, “I will hunt for you, and you shall grow fat again.” The Fox agreed to this, and they went on together to a much frequented spring. Mountain Lion told Fox to keep watch while he slept if a cloud of dust was to be seen arising from the approach of animals Fox was to waken him. Fox presently beheld the dust caused by the approach of a drove of horses. Fox wakened Mountain Lion, who said, “Just observe how I catch horses.” As one of the animals went down to the spring to drink, he sprang upon it, and fastened his fangs in its throat, clawing its legs and shoulders until it fell dying at the water’s edge. Mountain Lion brought the horse up to the rock, and laid it before the Fox. Stay here, eat, drink, and grow fat,” said he. Fox thought he had learned how to kill horses, so when the Coyote came along he volunteered to secure one for him. Fox jumped upon the neck of the horse, as Mountain Lion had done, but became entangled in its mane and was killed.

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Fox and Rabbit

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ox one day met a Rabbit who was sewing a sack. “What do you intend to do with that sack?” asked he.

“I am making this coat to protect myself from being killed by the hard hail which we are going to have today,” replied Rabbit. “My friend, you know how to make them; give me this coat and make another for your-self.” Rabbit agreed to this, and Fox put on the sack over his head. Rabbit then hung him on a limb and pelted him with stones, while Fox, thinking it was hail striking him, endured the punishment as long as he could, but finally fell nearly dead from the tree, and looked out, to see no signs of hail, but discovered the Rabbit running away. Fox wished to avenge himself by killing Rabbit, and set off in pursuit of him. When overtaken Rabbit was chewing soft gum with which to make spectacles. Fox’s curiosity was stronger than his passion for revenge. “What are you making those for?” said he. “It is going to be very hot, and I am making them to protect my eyes,” answered Rabbit. “Let me have this pair; you know how to make them and can make yourself another pair.” “Very well,” said Rabbit, and he put the eye-shields on Fox, who could then see nothing, as the gum was soft and filled his eyes. Rabbit set fire to the brush all around Fox, who was badly singed in running through it. The gum melted in the fire, and yet remains as the dark rings around his eyes. Fox again started on the trail of Rabbit, with the determination of eating him as soon as he saw him. He found Rabbit sitting beside the opening of a beehive. “I am going to eat you,” said Fox; “you have tried to kill me.” “You must not kill me,” replied Rabbit. “I am teaching these children,” and he closed the opening of the hive, so that Fox could not see what was inside. Fox desired very much to see what was in the hive making such a noise. “If you wish to see, stay here and teach them while I rest. When it is dinner time, strike them with a club,” said Rabbit, who then ran away. Fox patiently awaited the dinner hour, and then struck the hive with such force that he broke into it. The bees poured out and stung him until he rolled in agony. “When I see you again, I will kill you before you can say a word,” declared he, as he started after Rabbit again.

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Fox tracked the Rabbit to a small hole in the fence around a field of watermelons belonging to a Mexican. The Rabbit had entered to steal, and was angered at sight of the gum figure of a man which the owner of the field had placed beside the path. “What do you desire from me?” he cried, as he struck at the figure with his fore-foot, which stuck fast in the soft gum. He struck at the gum with every foot, and even his head was soon stuck in the gum. Thus Fox found him. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “They put me in here because I would not eat chicken for them,” said Rabbit. “I will take your place,” said Fox; “I know how to eat chicken.” The Mexican found him in the morning and skinned him, and then let him go, still on the trail of the Rabbit, who had so frequently outwitted him.

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THE POWERS THAT BE: SACRED TALES WITCH FLIGHTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: “Witchcraft in New Mexico.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 167–68. Date: 1888 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: Mexican American

This series of legends gives the general outlines of brujeria (often translated as “witchcraft”), a practice that embodies elements of both indigenous and Christian belief. The bruja (female) or brujo (male) is generally considered to constitute the opposite end of the spectrum of Hispanic magical-religious practice from the curandero (male healer) or curandera (female healer).

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very paisano in New Mexico can tell you the witches’ strange habits, their marvelous powers, and their baleful deeds. They never injure the dumb animals, but woe to the human being who incurs their displeasure. Few, indeed, are bold enough to brave their wrath. If a witch asks for food, wood, clothing, or


anything else, none dare say her nay. Nor dare anyone eat what a witch proffers; for, if he does, some animal, alive and gnawing, will form in his stomach. By day the witches wear their familiar human form; but at night, dressed in strange animal shapes, they fly abroad to hold witch meetings in the mountains, or to wreak their evil wills. In a dark night you may see them flying through the sky like so many balls of fire, and there are comparatively few Mexicans in the territory who have not seen this weird sight! For these nocturnal sallies the witches wear their own bodies, but take the legs and eyes of a coyote or other animal, leaving their own at home. Juan Perea, a male witch, who died here in San Mateo some months ago, met with a strange misfortune in this wise: He had gone off with the eyes of a cat, and during his absence a dog knocked over the table and ate up Juan’s own eyes; so the unfortunate witch had to wear cat’s eyes all the rest of his life. Before they can fly, witches are obliged to cry out, “Sin Dios, sin Santa Maria!” (Without God and without the Holy Virgin) whereupon they mount up into the air without difficulty. If you are on good terms with a witch you may persuade her to carry you on her back from here to New York in a second. She blindfolds you and enjoins strict silence. If you utter a word you find yourself alone in some vast wilderness, and if you cry, “God, save me!” you fall from a fearful height to the ground, but are luckily never killed by the fall. There are several courageous people in the territory who have made journeys thus upon the backs of witches. Lorenzo Labadie, a man of prominence in New Mexico, once unknowingly hired a witch as nurse for his baby. He lived in Las Vegas. Some months afterward there was a ball at Puerta de Luna, a couple of hundred miles south, and friends of the family were astonished to see the nurse and baby there. “Where is Senor Labadie and his family?” they asked. The nurse replied that they were at a house a few miles distant, but too tired to come to the ball. The friends went there next day and found the Labadies had not been there. Suspecting the nurse to be a witch, they wrote to Don Lorenzo, who only knew that the nurse and baby were in his house when he went to bed, and there also when he woke up. It being plain, therefore, to the most casual observer, that the woman was a witch, he promptly discharged her.

WITCHES DISCOVERED Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Espinosa, Aurelio M. “New Mexican Spanish Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 223 (1910): 397–98.

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Date: 1910 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: Spanish American

In the Southwest, witches were traditionally believed to take on the shapes of owls, foxes, and coyotes to work their evil deeds. As seen in other belief tales in this collection, when a human suspect shows wounds similar to those of a witch in animal form, guilt is assumed. See, for example, “The Doe with a Ring” (Vol. I, p. 337), “Woman Cat” (Vol. I, p. 338), and “The Miller’s Witch Wife” (Vol. II, p. 171).

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n a certain village in northern New Mexico, which was considered a favorite rendezvous for witches, a certain house had been surrounded for various nights by owls and foxes (the fox is another animal whose form witches like to take). Fearing harm from witches, since the hooting of the owls and the howling of the foxes had become almost insufferable, men went out to meet them with bows and arrows. The owls and foxes disappeared in all directions, with the exception of one old fox, which had been wounded near the heart by an arrow. No one dared to approach the wounded fox, however; and the next morning it was discovered that an old lady, a witch, living nearby, was in her death-bed, with an arrow-wound near the heart. On another occasion a man was riding on a fast horse and saw a fox. He started in pursuit; and after a long chase, when the fox was very tired and was already dragging its tongue along the ground, a sudden transformation took place. At a sharp turn of the road the fox stopped, and the rider did the same. To his amazement, he at once perceived a gray-haired woman sitting on a stone and panting in a terrible manner. Recognizing in her an old woman who was his neighbor, and whom he had suspected of being a witch, he went his way and troubled her no more. The brujas (generally women) are women who are wicked (pautadas con el diablo) and non-Christian. By confessing their sins to a priest, repenting, and abandoning their devilish ways, they may become good Christian women. A certain witch desired to forsake her evil ways and save her soul, since those who die witches cannot expect salvation. She confessed to a priest, and

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gave him a large bundle in the shape of a ball, which consisted largely of old rags, and pins stuck into it, the source and cause of her evil powers. The priest took the diabolical bundle and threw it into a fire, where, after bounding and rebounding for several minutes in an infernal manner, it was consumed, and the compact with the Devil ceased (ya no estaba pautada con el diablo).

CURANDERAS AND BRUJAS I Tradition Bearer: Maria Antonia Source: Bourke, John G. “Popular Medicines, Customs and Superstitions of the Rio Grande.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 142–43. Date: ca. 1894 Original Source: Texas National Origin: Mexican American

John G. Bourke’s comments on the following legends offer the cultural outsider’s perspective on brujeria (Spanish for “witchcraft”) and curandismo (Spanish for “curing”) in the Southwest. See “Witch Flights” (p. 121) and “Witches Discovered” (p. 122) for the insider’s perspective on these traditions.

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aria Antonia was emphatic in her expression of belief that there were lots of “brujas” (witches) around, who took delight in doing harm to you personally, or in spreading sickness among your cattle, blighting your crops, or ruining your fruit-trees. Everybody believed in witches; there might be some fool “Americanos” who would say they did not, but she was sure that they were only talking for talk’s sake. Once there was a man down here (Rio Grande City, Texas) who owed a washerwoman five dollars and refused to pay her. Now this washerwoman was a witch, and she filled this man full of worms, but Maria Antonia was called in just in time and gave him a strong emetic and a strong purge, and then dosed

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him with a decoction of Yerba de Cancer, Yerba Gonzalez, and Guayuli, and expelled thirteen worms (“gusanos”) with green heads and white bodies.

CURANDERAS AND BRUJAS II Tradition Bearer: Sam Stewart Source: Bourke, John G. “Popular Medicines, Customs and Superstitions of the Rio Grande.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 144–46. Date: ca. 1894 Original Source: Texas National Origin: Mexican American

The last punishment inflicted for witchcraft within the limits of the United States was that imposed by Judge Sam Stewart of Rio Grande City (Fort Ringgold), Texas, in 1886.

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s nearly as I can arrange the story from my notes and my recollection of the judge’s account, it was about like this: A young man of good Mexican family was slowly wasting away under the attack of a disease, the exact nature of which quite baffled the local medical talent. All the medicines on sale in the “Botica del Aguila” (Eagle Drug Store) had been sampled to no purpose, and the sick man’s condition had become deplorable. The physicians, who disagreed in everything else, concurred upon the one point that he had but a few days longer to live. At this juncture, a friend suggested to the mother that she call in one of the numerous old hags, who, under the name of “curanderas,” combine in equal portions a knowledge of kitchen botany, the black art, humbuggery pure and simple, and a familiarity with just enough prayers and litanies to give a specious varnish to the more objectionable features of their profession. The “curandera” responded promptly, and made her diagnosis almost with a glance of the eye. “Your son,” she said to the grief-stricken mother, “has neither consumption nor paralysis. The doctors can’t tell what ails him, but I can see it all, and with the power of God can soon make him well again.”

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“What is the matter with him, then, my dear little friend?” “Black Thomas cats. When I came into the room, the floor was a foot deep with Thomas cats, which had jumped out of your son’s throat, but they became frightened when they saw me and scampered back again. I’ll soon get rid of them all.” Her intentions may have been good, but she got rid of nothing. Her “remedies” produced no effect, and the patient kept on sinking. Just then a rival “curandera” came up to the mother and said: “That woman is deceiving you. She don’t know what she’s talking about. Why your son never has been troubled by Thomas cats, but I can tell you at once what ails him.” “Tell me, then, in the name of God.” “It is bull-frogs. I can see them jumping over each other and running into and out from his mouth.” To make a long story short, the first “curandera” would not give up the case, but insisted on holding on to what, in the language of today, would be called a decidedly soft snap, and the town, as is usual in such cases, taking up a quarrel in which it didn’t have the slightest interest, became divided into the two bitterly hostile factions of the “bull-froggers” and the “Thomas-catters.” The street became blocked with a crowd of partisans and excitement ran high. Judge Stewart surrounded the whole gang and had them run down to court, where he dismissed all but the ten “curanderas” (for there were ten altogether), who were loudly proclaiming their influence with witches. “Have you ever seen any witches?” he asked of the first. “Oh yes, indeed, many times. Why only last Wednesday, the witches picked me up at midnight and took me out on the Corpus Christi road, and up above the clouds, where they played pelota (foot-ball) with me, and when they got tired of that, they dropped me into a mesquite thicket, and here you see my clothes all torn to rags to prove that I am telling the truth.” The next one said she could get into any house, no matter whether the doors were open or shut. The third could tell where to find hidden money, and so on through the list. The judge wasted no time on the culprits, but fined them all ten dollars apiece, and sentenced them to a month each in the county jail, and when they begged for clemency and told him that they were poor humble women, he brusquely replied: “That’s nothing. You can all get out through the keyholes, and you all know where to find buried money to pay your fines. That is all there is about it.”

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The Southwest | The Ghost Penitente

THE GHOST PENITENTE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Espinosa, Aurelio M. “New Mexican Spanish Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 223 (1910): 397–98. Date: 1910 Original Source: New Mexico National Origin: Spanish American

Los Hermanos Penitente, the Brotherhood of Penitents, are a religious society operating outside the boundaries of official Roman Catholicism. They demonstrate their piety by acts of self-flagellation, cross-bearing, and on Good Friday by the crucifixion of a member.

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certain evening during holy week the Penitentes entered the church in Taos for the purpose of flogging themselves. After flogging themselves in the usual manner, they left the church. As they departed, however, they heard the floggings of a Penitente who seemed to have remained in the church. The elder brother (hermano mayor) counted his Penitentes, and no one was missing. To the astonishment of the other Penitentes, the one in the church continued his flagellation, and they decided to return. No one dared to re-enter the church, however; and while they disputed in silence and made various conjectures as to what the presence of an unknown Penitente might mean, the floggings became harder and harder. At last one of the Penitentes volunteered to enter alone; but, as he opened the door, he discovered that the one who was scourging himself mercilessly was high above in the choir, and it was necessary to obtain a lighted candle before venturing to ascend to the choir in the darkness. He procured a lighted candle and attempted to ascend. But, lo! He could not, for every time he reached the top of the stairs, the Penitente whom he plainly saw there, flogging himself, would approach and put out his candle. After trying for several times, the brave Penitente gave up the attempt, and all decided to leave the unknown and mysterious stranger alone in the church. As they departed, they saw the mysterious Penitente leave the church and turn

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in an opposite direction. They again consulted one another, and decided to follow him. They did so; and, since the stranger walked slowly, scourging himself continuously and brutally, they were soon at a short distance from him. The majority of the flagellants followed slowly behind; while the brave one, who had previously attempted to ascend to the choir, advanced to the side of the mysterious stranger and walked slowly by him. He did not cease scourging himself, though his body was visibly becoming very weak, and blood was flowing freely from his mutilated back. Thus the whole procession continued in the silence of the night, the stranger leading the Penitentes through abrupt paths and up a steep and high mountain. At last, when all were nearly dead with fatigue, the mysterious Penitente suddenly disappeared, leaving his good companion and the other Penitentes in the greatest consternation. The Penitentes later explained that this was doubtless the soul of a dead Penitente who had not done his duty in life, a false Penitente, and God had sent him back to earth to scourge himself properly, before allowing him to enter heaven

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THE PLAINS AND PLATEAU

Introduction

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hose states in the region classified by The Greenwood Library of American Folktales—Kansas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Wyoming, North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, and Utah—are the states most people associate with the Western frontier and the culture of the covered wagon, the cattle drive, and the nomadic Native American Plains cultures. Most of the area, in fact, is referred to as the Great Plains. Once referred to as the Great American Desert, the Plains continue through these states with little interruption until they reach the Rocky Mountains, which extend from Canada into Colorado and northern New Mexico. Some parts of the region exhibit extreme variations in terrain, rainfall, vegetation, and temperature. Utah, for example, is home to both the Mojave Desert and also the Wasatch Mountains, which remain covered in snow for most of the year. The earliest Native American inhabitants of the Great Plains and the plateau region were sedentary horticulturists or hunters and gatherers. Some groups had migrated into the area of their own volition; others were driven west by pressures generated by the increasing settlement to the east by Americans of European descent. The Wichita were representative of the farming cultures on the southern fringes of the region. The Wichita grew the staple of Native American farmers, corn. In addition, they grew tobacco as a sacred plant used for ritual purposes and other food crops such as squash, beans, pumpkins, and melons. Even the sedentary cultures in the region engaged in a seasonal buffalo hunt. Although the Wichita villages of grass-covered pole huts do not suggest a high level of cultural


development, their cosmology was sophisticated and, as one of their myths— “Origin of the Universe” (p. 135)—demonstrates, accounted for both the natural and the social order. At the northern extreme of the Great Plains, the Arikaras, Mandans, and Hidatsas enjoyed a settled lifestyle as well, living in well-protected villages of earth-lodge dwellings. They developed a rich mythological repertoire and ceremonial life as they tended fields of corn, beans, and squash, and—like the other sedentary Plains cultures—engaged in seasonal buffalo hunts. Even before Europeans themselves became a significant factor in the lives of the indigenous Great Plains cultures, the horses that Europeans introduced made their way from the Spanish incursions and from the southern Great Plains northward to the Canadian border. The horses radically changed the lifestyles of both the Southern Plains cultures—such as the Comanches of Kansas, Oklahoma, and the Texas Panhandle—and also, later, the Northern Plains Classic cultures including the Cheyenne, Blackfoot, Dakota, and Lakota. All became master equestrians and came to rely on the horse for mobility and the buffalo for subsistence. “Young Men Who Killed the Horned Serpent and Released the Buffalo” (p. 185), “Coyote and the Buffalo” (p. 228), and “Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe” (p. 251) are among the folktales that draw on this way of life for their themes and characters. To the western extremes of the region, in Utah and Colorado, the Utes pursued an equestrian nomadic lifestyle and expressed their worldview through stories of their culture hero and trickster, Coyote (see, for example, “Coyote’s Theft of Fire,” p. 164). Hispanic influence persisted in the Great Plains and the plateau region, especially in the states that, until the conclusion of the Mexican War in 1848, had been first Spanish, then Mexican, territory. The relevant states in this category include Utah and parts of Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, and Wyoming. With the opening of these territories for settlement, Americans ultimately discovered the farming potential of the Great Plains. Even those who merely passed across them left their narrative records of hardships and encounters with the Great Plains cultures, as in the family saga “Crossing the Plains from Kentucky” (p. 181). Many were induced to stay on the Great Plains and the plateau region for a variety of reasons, however. Even Oklahoma, which—until the great westward migrations following the Civil War—had been a dumping ground for dispossessed Native Americans, became prime territory for those Americans and a good number of immigrants looking for a fresh start. A variety of occupations drew them on. Some immigrated to become small-town businessmen, as in “Joke on Jake” (p. 233). Others became cowboys, and some overcame racism in the bargain, in the tradition of “Matthew ‘Bones’ Hooks,

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Cowboy” (p. 224). Still others, like Marshall W. S. Foscett in “Bill Foscett” (p. 220), tried to maintain order among the rest who were busy trying to make a profit through driving cattle to Dodge City, Kansas, through the Colorado Gold Rush, or by robbing those who did succeed. Yet another significant group among the many who were drawn to the Great Plains and the plateau region were those who sought religious freedom in the Utah desert—the Mormons, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints. This faction first arrived in the Salt Lake Valley in 1847, the year before the Mexican War erupted and eventually led to Utah becoming part of the United States as a result of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. Despite a long period of turmoil, the Mormons remained a strong presence in the area as reflected in the legends of “The Three Nephites” (p. 241), which is about the supernatural benefactors to the Mormon community. The Great Plains and the plateau regions were, throughout the nineteenth century, synonymous with the American frontier. With the virtual extinction of the great buffalo herds, the pacification—and in some cases extermination—of the Native American cultures in the heart of the United States, and the crossing of the continent with railroads, by the end of the century the American frontier survived almost exclusively in its folk narratives and the memories of their performers.

SUGGESTED READINGS Dooling, D. M. The Sons of the Wind. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1992. Fife, Austin, and Alta Fife. Saints of Sage and Saddle: Folklore Among the Mormons. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1956. Koch, William E. Folklore from Kansas. Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 1980. Marriott, Alice, and Carol K. Rachlin. Plains Indian Mythology. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1975. Smith, Anne M., ed. Shoshone Tales. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press.

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ORIGINS ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dorsey, George A. “Wichita Tales. 1. Origin.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 215–39. Date: 1902 Original Source: Wichita National Origin: Native American

The Wichita proper were one band of the Wichita Confederacy who at various historical periods occupied territory on the Southern Great Plains—modern Kansas, Oklahoma, and northern Texas. They lived in dome-shaped dwellings and built their villages along streams. They grew crops of corn, melons, and tobacco and engaged in a seasonal buffalo hunt. As the following myth of creation demonstrates, the Wichita developed a complex system of sacred narratives that accounted for both the natural and the social order. “The Origin of the Universe” offers a rare example of a myth that describes creation from the first chaotic state of the universe to contemporary times. Appearing in the detailed descriptions of the following narrative are the relationships of humans to both animals and supernatural forms, the flow of power between worlds by means of culture heroes, and the development of cultural institutions such as the healing and religious rituals.


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n the times at the beginning, there was no sun, no moon, no stars, nor did the earth exist as it does now. Time passed on and Darkness only lived. With the lapse of time came a woman, Watsikatsia, made after the form of the man Darkness. The woman found an ear of corn in front of her, while before Darkness was placed an arrow. They did not know what these objects were nor where they came from, but they knew that they were for their use. The woman wondered what the ear of corn was for, and Darkness, by the gift of Man-Never-Knownon-Earth, was able to tell her that the corn was for her to eat. Then Darkness wondered what the arrow was for, and the woman, by aid from the same power, was able to tell him that with the arrow he was to kill game. The time now arrived when Man-Never-Known-on-Earth promised them that he would make more people. So a village soon sprang into existence with many families. And according to the wish of Man-Never-Known-on-Earth a certain person was to be chief, and his name was to be Boy-Chief. Man-NeverKnown-on-Earth also decreed that the name of the village should be Wandering-Village, which meant that the people should not travel on their feet, as people do now, but should wander like spirits, they could think of a distant point and be there at once. After a while Darkness and the woman (Watsikatsia) began to wonder why so many things had happened, why there were so many people. For there were crowds and crowds of people. There were so many people that Darkness told them to scatter, to divide into parties and go off in different directions. After this, Darkness began to get power to foretell things. Once he told Watsikatsia everything, that he was about to go to a certain being over there, Man-Never-Known-on-Earth. When he was ready to go he reached down at his left side and with his right hand and brought up a ball. Then he reached down with his left hand at his right side and brought up a belt. Then he reached down in front, touched the ball to the belt and brought up a shinny stick [a curved stick used to play a game similar to field hockey]. He took the ball, tossed it up and struck it with the stick. As the ball flew he went with it. Thus he went on towards the place for which he had set out and where he expected to find Man-Never-Known-on-Earth. Now Man-Never-Known-on-Earth had great power and knew that this man was coming to pay him a visit. (The object of this man’s visit was that power be given him so that there should be light on the face of the earth.) Again he tossed the ball, struck it and traveled through space with it, but he was not there yet. So he knew that he could not depend on the ball. Then he took his bow and arrow, which he had brought with him, shot the arrow and flew with it. This he did a second, third, and fourth time, but he had

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not yet arrived. Still he knew that he had to get there. Then he remembered that he could run. So he made one long run and stopped to rest. Then he ran again, and a third and fourth time. He had now made twelve trials and knew that he was near the place of his journey. Now he came across a grass lodge and he knew that someone lived there. Before he got right at the lodge, he heard somebody speaking to him, telling him the object of his journey: for Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell lived there. Darkness at once asked for something to eat. Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell asked him inside the lodge. When Darkness entered he saw light; for the lodge was filled with bright light. As he had come on a long journey he was very tired and hungry, and again asked for food. So Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell reached down behind him and brought up four grains of corn. Darkness began eating, and the four grains were more than he could eat, so full did they make him. Then they began to talk and Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell said to Darkness: “Man-Never-Known-onEarth has made me also; the time is coming nearer; it will not be long until we are able to go around everywhere.” So after they had stayed there in the grass lodge a long time, they went outside and faced east. Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell then told Darkness to look, and there was water almost as far as they could see. On the opposite bank they saw a man. This man told them to make haste and cut a stick. Then he said to them, “There are three animals in the water traveling towards you. Do not kill the first or the second, but kill the third, which is half black and half white.” Then Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell said: “We are not quite ready;” for he was just making his arrows. Then the man said: “Hurry and make your arrows!” Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell replied: “We are about ready; we have the bow, arrows, and sinew, but the arrows are not quite dry.” Man-with-GreatPower-to-Foretell again cried out, “We are about ready; we have fixed the sinew.” Again the man called to them to hurry. Then Man-with-Great-Powerto-Foretell said, “We are about to feather the arrows.” The man again called to them to hurry. Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell replied. “We are ready now; we are ready to draw the arrows, for we have trimmed the feathers.” While they were working they saw the three animals draw closer. Again the man called out, “Don’t shoot the first or the second, but kill the third, which is half black and half white.” Then he said, “They are closer to you. I go now. I will never be here any more. When you go back, tell your people that there will be such a word as Hosaiisida (Last-Star-after-Light) and that I will

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appear from time to time.” After he had spoken, they looked, but the man was gone; they looked higher and saw him as a star of bright light, for he was YoungStar, or the morning star. It now grew a little lighter and they saw the three animals still closer to them, and they saw that they were deer and that they were standing on the water. Then Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell shouted, and the first deer jumped up on the bank to the south of the place where they stood, and it was black; then the second deer jumped up, it was white; then the half black and half white deer jumped up on the bank, and Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell shot it on its side. Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell now told Darkness that that was the power given to man, that when you go after game such weapons would be used. Then he added: “I will not be on earth much longer, but I will be seen at times.” Darkness now looked, but Man-with-Great-Power-to-Foretell was gone; he looked toward the east and there he saw him as the sun; and his name was SunGod. Then it became light and they knew that the first deer was day, the second night, and the third, which they had killed, was day and night, and that henceforth there was to be day and night. These three deer became the three stars which we see every night in the west. When these things had happened, Darkness turned and faced the west. All was bright with light now. He began his journey back to the point from which he had set out. As he went he travelled very fast; for he now had power to travel very fast. Indeed, so rapidly did he travel that he arrived home early that day. When he got home he found all kinds of people, but they did not know him and asked him who he was. As he also knew no one, he asked where he could go for shelter. He was told to go to the west edge of the village, where he would find a large lodge belonging to Boy-Chief. So Darkness went there for shelter. He asked Boy-Chief how many more villages there were like that one. Boy-Chief replied that in the south there was one with a chief named Wolf-Robe, who had great power like Man-with-GreatPower-to-Foretell. Then Boy-Chief asked Darkness where he had been, and he replied that he had been to a certain place where he had met Man-with-Great-Power-toForetell and Young-Star. Then Darkness asked Boy-Chief to assemble everyone in the village in order that they might hear what he had to say. Boy-Chief called for all to come, and a great crowd gathered about the lodge. Boy-Chief then announced that all were present and asked him what he had to say. Then Darkness told them that he and his woman were the first beings created and that Man-Never-Known-on-Earth had given them power to

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carry out his work, and that they were going to do it. “Therefore,” added Darkness, “I have come before you again, to tell you that after I have done this work for you I will have to leave you.” After he had said this he commanded all the people to return to their homes and tell everything he had said. Then he started on his journey to the south village and soon arrived. Again he asked where he could find shelter, and was told as before to go to a certain place at the edge of the village, where he would find the headman, who would treat him well. He went to that house and met the chief, who asked him what he had to say. He replied that he had something to say, and asked the chief to assemble all his people. So someone was sent around to tell the people of the village to gather at the chief’s place. Now before Darkness had arrived in this village three people had predicted his arrival, for they had great power in those days; so they were not surprised when he came. The crowd came and he told them they were to have such a game as shinny ball. He reached down with his right hand on his left side and produced a ball, and then reached down on his right side with his left hand and brought up a shinny stick. These he showed the people and told them they were for their use. Then he commanded the people to gather just outside the village at about evening time, and then he set the time for play. They went as he told them. When they were all there he tossed the ball toward the north and traveled with it. It went a long ways. When it lit he picked it up and struck it with the stick and drove the ball back south, then said that the point where he stood when he struck the ball would be called “flowing water” (the goal). Then he took the ball, tossed it, went with it, and again struck it southward. Where it hit was the second “flowing water,” or goal. Between these two goals or bases was level ground, and in both directions as far as you could see. Then he divided the men into two parties, and placed one at each goal. Between these two parties and in the centre of the field he placed two men, one from each of the two parties. He gave one man the ball and told him to toss it up. As the ball was tossed he told the other man to strike it towards the south. He did so and drove the ball towards his opponents on the south. Now they played, and the north side drove the ball to the south goal and won. They then changed goals and the other side won. Then Darkness said that they had played enough. Before the shinny ball game began, Darkness had asked that a lodge be emptied and cleaned out. It was now late in the afternoon. He now entered the lodge, but first told the people to go to their homes, that the times were drawing near when things would change, for the powers which had been given to people were increasing, “And now,” he said finally, “I go. I am to leave you, but I am also to be seen.” He made his final appearance, the people went to their

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homes and he entered the prepared lodge, and when he appeared again it was to bring light into darkness. By this time the power which Man-Never-Known-on-Earth had first given people had developed and the people were very powerful, but they used their power for bad purposes. The first woman, Watsikatsia, now appeared in this village and asked for shelter. She was told to go to a certain place, but she was warned that the chief had greatly changed and that now he was an enemy to his visitors. She replied that she had great powers, given her by Man-Never-Known-on-Earth, that she could do anything. Her informant told her that she would arrive in the morning. She would find someone inquiring for her who wanted her to go on a journey with him. The next morning she arrived at the lodge of the chief, and shortly after she went after water, when she heard someone inquiring for her. This was a man who was acting for, or the servant of Without-Good-Power, son of Wolf-Robe. Now Without-Good-Power was a very bad man, while his father was just as good as ever, and had never abused the power, which Man-Never-Known-on-Earth had given him. This servant of Without-Good-Power now told her to get ready to travel, as Without-Good-Power was going to war, and she must go along. Without-Good-Power now started and a great crowd followed. He told his followers that be was not going very far, only to a place called Eyes-likeMountains, which stood in the water. After they had gone a short way WithoutGood-Power ordered the people to stop for a while so that he could make a sacrifice, by offering his pipe to everyone to smoke. While he was doing this, with his followers sitting around him in a circle, there appeared on his right side and on his left side a bow. All at once these two bows turned into two snakes and began to fight each other. Then Without-Good-Power asked the people to interpret the meaning of this event. A certain man spoke up and said it meant thus and so. Then Without-Good-Power said that his interpretation was wrong and he got up and went where the man was and killed him with a club. Then the woman spoke up and said that Without-Good-Power’s powers were great, but were not all beneficial to the people, for Without-Good-Power had killed people before this time when they had failed to interpret properly. She now said, “The meaning of what has just happened is that the village which we have left is being attacked by a certain kind of enemy.” After she had made this interpretation, all the people turned back to go home. When they had arrived the woman called all the women together and told them that everywhere she went she had certain great powers, and that the last

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place where she had been was Place-where-Corn-is-Raised. Then she told the women that power would be given to them, so that they could kill many animals for food, that after taking the hide off all they had to do was to take the hide by one side, shake it, and it would be a robe, that they should take the bark from the trees, save it, sprinkle it on the robe from end to end, and that power would be given them to take up anything and pack it on their back. She also said that the time was coming when certain of their powers would be cut off and all would be just ordinary people; also that she would soon no longer appear as she was, but in a different form. Soon after that she was changed into a bird with bright red feathers; for she had had red hair. It had now come to pass that, after all these things had happened, WolfRobe, the chief of the south village, was an old man, and nearly everything went wrong; the people were no longer good. Wolf-Robe had told them to go ahead and do as they pleased. Now there was a certain wise man living north of Wolf-Robe, who spoke out and said that this condition could not last, and that there would soon appear a man, by the name of Howling-Boy, who would do things. He also said that the people were not living naturally, that they were exercising too much supernatural power, and that there were certain people who considered themselves greater than Man-Never-Known-on-Earth. In addition to Howling-Boy, who was to appear, another man would appear, whose name was to be Heard-Cryingin-His-Mother’s-Womb (although people thought that what they heard crying was a knife which the woman carried at her side). Now the wise man advised the chief, Wolf-Robe, to select all his men who were capable of traveling fast to go out to look for these two men who were to appear. Wolf-Robe selected only four, two of the number being brothers, and they started, one in each direction, to hunt for the two men, and also to tell other people to look for them and to go to the village. People began to come in from far and wide. Finally it was announced that all were in the village. Then a certain man appeared and gave his name as Howling-Boy, and presently the other man, Heard-Crying-in-His-Mother’s-Womb, appeared. The latter told the chief that he had great power, and enumerated what he could do. The chief admitted that he was a man of great power. Heard-Crying-in-His-Mother’s-Womb then said, “I always have known what you have in your mind. Now say what you have in your mind, for it is best for the people to hear what you have to say in my presence.” The chief then talked and said that there were too many people who were bad, who used too much unnatural power, that he ordered all such people to be destroyed; and that he left the performance of this task to Howling-Boy and

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Heard-Crying-in-His-Mother’s-Womb. He also added that his son was a bad man and that he could not account for it, as he himself was a good man and did not practice so much power as did his son. Howling Boy then announced that he would delegate his share of the killing of bad people to Heard-Crying-in-His-Mother’s-Womb. So Heard-Crying-inHis-Mother’s-Womb accepted the task in accordance with the chief’s orders. Heard-Crying in-His-Mother’s-Womb now arose, saying that he would begin his work at once, and that the chief’s son would be the first to be destroyed. So he took his bow, found the chief’s son and destroyed him, tearing him to pieces. Then he went on with his work of killing the bad people, shouting before he got to each one, so that his victim would get excited and could not move or do anything. As he encountered each, he also would tell what great powers he had, and that the people thought they had greater powers than anybody else. He also would tell them that Man-Never-Known-on-Earth had given them great powers, but that they had not acted as he wanted them to. Next he went to a lodge where there was a large family, the father of which had a head with two faces; this man he killed, telling him if he ever lived again he would have less power. Then he went to another man, whose name was Haitskaria, and who was a creature like an alligator and who burnt the ground over which he traveled. He told Haitskaria that he was there to destroy him, and that if he ever lived again he would have less power. Then he went to another lodge, where he met a family of Mountain-Lions, consisting of father and mother and two children. He told them he had come to destroy them, that they had lived a bad life. They begged him not to carry out his orders, but to let them live and continue the possession of their power. But he told them he would have to carry out his order, and that if they came to life again they would have less power. Then he went on to the mountains where there was a cave. As he approached he hallooed and saw a great crowd of Scalped or Bloody-Head people. When he drew near they ran into the cave. He went to the opening and told them that power had been given him to destroy them because they were bad; that he would have to carry out the order which had been given him by the chief; that they thought they had greater powers than any living being, and that they abused them. Finally one of the men came from the cave and asked what right he had to say and do these things. In reply he told him that a Creator had given them this power so that they might be great, but that they had gone beyond this power. Then he began to kill them, and left only two, a man and a woman.

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Then, having done his work, he returned to the village, where he told the chief that he had destroyed the meanest and most powerful creatures. He added, “Now I have fulfilled your orders, and now I want to find out what you have in your mind.” The chief then announced that everyone would be changed into another form, that there would be many human beings, but he advised that everyone do as he pleased; that is, if any wished to change into animals they might do so. After Wolf-Robe had made this announcement, he told the people that he had made his choice and had decided to become an animal. So he went on his way, taking with him his walking stick and robe and leaving his other possessions behind, and journeyed to the nearest body of water. There he went down into the water, dived, and after coming up he went out on the other side a wolf. Then Heard-Crying-in-His-Mother’s-Womb said that something charmed him to the water, drew him towards it. So he went to the water, although he did not want to go, dived to the bottom and saw a woman whose name was Womanin-Water-Never-Seen. As he did not want to stay there he came to the surface, spouted water up in the air and went up and away with it, and became Weather (that is, lightning, rain, etc.). After he had disappeared, all the people got vessels, went to the water, filled them, and carried water home to their families. Then some of them put water on their fires, and as the steam ascended up in the air they went with it and so became birds; other beings went their way to the woods, prairies, and mountains and became various kinds of animals, while the remainder of the people lived on in the same place. Without-Good-Power was among these people who remained, and he still had great powers. He announced that he would continue to live with the people. His powers were especially great in doctoring, so great that he could by a simple command change any person into another form. Thus if he saw any of his enemies coming around his lodge he would command them to stop and then they would vanish; sometimes he would change them into wood. Then he decided to give a new name to the group of people who lived about and he changed the name from Okaitshideia (Village) to Katskara (Village). Then Without-Good-Power went on to a place where there was an earth lodge, which he entered. Within he put his hand to the wall of the lodge and it left the imprint of his hand in color, and wherever he touched the wall there was the imprint in a different color. Now the owner of the lodge knew that Without-Good-Power had great powers, among them that of changing people into different forms, so when Without-Good-Power shouted, the man ran out and started north, but he was changed into a bird, Gtataikwa (its name coming from its peculiar cry, just as if someone were going to strike it). Still another

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man ran out of the lodge and started north, but he was changed into a star (not the morning star). Time passed on and the people remembered how things used to be. A certain young man, Every-Direction, went out on an expedition with twelve men. Time passed on and they did not return till about spring. The people wondered why they were gone so long. In the village at the northeast corner lived an old man and an old woman, who had a little orphaned grandson whose name was Of-Unknown-Parents. This boy finally went into the center of the village and told the people that the thirteen who had gone on the expedition were no longer alive, but had gone into the ground, and that no one of them would return. Then Of-UnknownParents said that some hunters should go out for two days and look for a certain place where there would be some people coming out of the ground, enough to form a village. When it was night the boy went to bed, but before he went to sleep he heard someone calling him. He arose and went out on the northwest side of the lodge. There he saw someone standing, who told Of-Unknown-Parents that he was mistaken, that his prophecy would not come true. He also told OfUnknown-Parents that his father had sent him down to appear before him and tell him this, that a year hence something would happen, which would be done by his father, and that he would appear to him again. Now at that time the chief’s wife, who had a son among the thirteen, which had disappeared, was confined and brought forth four children shaped like dogs. When one day old, they had grown, and when three days old they had grown so fast that they played with the children. But they were mean and ran over the children. When they were grown up, the chief was tired of them and got people to carry them off to the west, as he did not like them. But on the way the dogs, who were now very large, swallowed up the people who were taking them away, and none of the people ever returned. As time went on, other people would go out where these monstrous creatures lived, but they had such long necks that they would reach out and get them and swallow them. So the people finally got excited and moved the village. The older people talked much and said that although the Creator had made everything it seemed that he had also made monsters to destroy everyone, and that if things went on in this way more bad things would be done. Time passed on and the people would not go to the west for fear of the monsters. So the chief selected four men to visit the place of the old village, but they returned safe. Now the old man and woman and their grandson, Of-Unknown-Parents, had been left at the old village. One night the person who had formerly

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appeared to the boy again visited him. He said, “At noon, go to a certain place due north of here, and I will appear to you.” The next day at noon the boy went to a hill in the north where he had been told to go, and there he saw this person. He called the boy to him and told him that his father did not like the way things were going and that he would have to destroy everything. Then he told the boy to return to the village and tell the people that they were to be destroyed, that if they did not believe him, to repeat the message. Then Of-Unknown-Parents said his father was tired of the monsters and that he wished to destroy them. The person then told the boy he must do certain things: that he must get the twelve longest canes he could find, fasten them together, and give them to a certain woman (Spider-Woman) who lived in the village, that he must tell this woman to get her servant (Mouse-Woman) to go about and get a big lot of corn of all colors and bring it to her master; that when this was done he must put the canes in the ground up to five joints; that after this four days would elapse and at the end of that time to be on the lookout for something to happen, for some-thing would come from the north. He also said that there was a certain thing in the water that would destroy the four monsters, and that now it was time for him to depart. Now the boy returned to the village and told the chief what was to happen, but the chief would not believe him. Then he went to the Spider-Woman and told her as he had been commanded. She was pleased to hear the story and was willing to do whatever the boy told her to do. After the people had heard the news some would not believe, especially the people who wished to live longer. But many believed the boy’s story. Spider-Woman now got the twelve long canes and sent her servant out to get whatever seeds she could find. She got seeds of corn, beans, pumpkins, watermelons, and seeds of every kind that she could find. Then Spider-Woman first filled some of the joints with corn seed and closed the cane up, then she put in some pumpkin seed and closed it up, and so on, filling the canes with all the seeds. When night came, Of-Unknown-Parents returned to Spider-Woman and asked her what she had done. She told him that she had done everything except to put the canes in the ground. So Of-Unknown-Parents told her to take the rib of a buffalo and dig a hole in the ground. She did so, and said there was one thing more to be done, and that was to raise the canes and put them in the ground up to the fifth joint. Of-Unknown-Parents said that he would attend to that. So he went away for a little while and returned. Then he commanded a small whirlwind to blow, and it raised the canes right up, and Spider-Woman

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and Of-Unknown-Parents placed them in the hole up to the fifth joint as they had been commanded. The time was now come for something to happen. At noon they looked north and saw something like a wind blowing, but it was the fowls of the air all headed south. After they had passed came the animals, the buffalo first, then the deer, and so on. When the people saw these things they were excited. A little later they looked north and saw great floods of water coming very fast, and they saw the thing that was to destroy the four monsters. It was a great turtle, which had broken out of the water and was headed toward the monsters. On it came, and went under their feet, where it stopped. On came the great floods of water. So Spider-Woman, who had helped Of-Unknown-Parents put up the canes, now began climbing at the bottom and soon reached the top of the twelve canes. Then she let down a rope and drew her husband to the top, and then let down the rope and drew up the boy to the top, and then drew up Mouse-Woman. She now made a place on the top with a good shelter, but so made that the water would leak through. The time was now late in the evening and the water was to the tops of the lodges in the village. The monsters could hardly stand still, it was so slippery. Late in the evening it was more difficult for them to stand still, and one said to the other three, “My brothers, my legs are giving out, and I will have to fall. I will fall that way (north) and when the time comes in later generations that direction will be called ‘North.’” The next day the backs of these monsters could only just be seen, and one of them said to the other two, “Brothers, do the best you can; I have to fall; my legs are giving out; I will fall in that direction (east), and in later times people will call that direction ‘Point-Where-Sun-Rises.’” On the next day the water was higher and the people on the canes were getting uneasy. The water was now up to the necks of the two monsters. The one said to the other: “Brother, you are the youngest of us four; you will have to get along the best you can; I am going to fall; I am giving out; the direction I am going to fall is that way (south), and by later generations it will be called ‘South.’” The fourth day of the flood came. The fourth monster had to hold his head back to keep the water out of his face. He said that he could tell nobody what was going to happen, as his three brothers had perished, but that he would have to fall towards that point where the sun goes down, and it would be called “West.” From that time it was twelve days more before the flood passed on. Nothing could be seen, no village, no people, only some water and a little earth. The ground was all soft. At this time everything was still. There was no wind. But a certain person appeared who came from above, of the name of

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Man-Going-All-Around, who had power to dry all slime. He appeared from the northeast direction and was headed southwest. While on his way he saw something like a shadow shining on the ground. He wondered what it was and thought he had better go over to see. When he got over to the place he saw something on the ground, shaped like a human being. Examining it closely he saw that it was molded like a woman. Man-Going-All-Around went on in another direction. Time passed and he went all around and again came to the same place where he had seen the form of a woman in earth. He now saw that the upper half of the image, as it lay at full length on its back, was alive, and that the lower half was still mud. Then he saw further that the woman had given birth to a child (Standing-Sweet-Grass), which was nursing, on her breast. After seeing this he went on again on his journey. Then came a bird, a dove, and it saw something on the ground; it went to see what was there. When it got near it lighted on the ground and saw the woman sitting up on the ground with the child in her lap. The dove had a piece of grass in its mouth. In the meantime Man-Going-All-Around had passed on over a place where he thought he heard someone beating a drum. Then he re-turned a third time to the woman, told her to rise and accompany him. He took her to the place where he had heard the noise of drums. He went in with Shadow-Woman and the child and saw that he was in a room shaped like a beaver’s lodge, and that it was deep down under the water. The name of the lodge was Place-of-Beavers or Beavers’Lodge. When he entered the room he saw many people sitting about. He also saw a young man lying on a bed. Then he told the woman that she was to live with this man who was on the bed, and the man accepted the offer. After Shadow-Woman had lived in the lodge with the man for five days, her child (Standing-Sweet-Grass) had grown rapidly and was now a boy and could talk. The boy said to his mother, “I am going to begin my work. When I begin this work I want you to keep continent till I finish my work.” At this time his mother told him that he was the son of no man on earth, but of Man-Above. The next day Standing-Sweet-Grass went out in a northwest direction. After he had gone on a while, he stopped, facing the north-west. Then he turned towards the east and saw the same man (Man-Going-All-Around) who had taken him and his mother into the lodge. This man now discovered the place where the people were on top of the canes. All this time it had been still and there had been no wind; only where he went was there wind. Having reached the spot where the canes stood, he was told by Spider-Woman, who was on top of the canes, to look out for the boy, Of-Unknown-Parents, who was coming down the rope. So Spider-Woman let down the rope with the boy on the

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end of it. When Of-Unknown-Parents was down, he was told to command the wind to blow from the north, east, south, and west, into the ground. Then the canes began to go down to-ward the west, and it was found that the water had sunk as far as the fourth joint of the canes, so that they lacked but one more joint of reaching the bottom. When they were all down the boy from the Placeof-Beavers told them to go with him to his home, saying that there were many people there. Then they set out, carrying the canes with them, Spider-Woman holding the canes at the middle, with Mouse-Woman at one end and OfUnknown-Parents at the other. When they arrived at the Place-of-Beavers they all went in, except StandingSweet-Grass, and saw crowds of people, birds, and animals. Having entered, Shadow-Woman got up and went to the strangers and told them that she was glad to see them. They re-plied that it was a fact that she was glad to see them, for they had some things for her. Then they opened the canes and divided the seeds, the men putting them in wrappers. Then all the seeds were given to Shadow-Woman for her use in beginning her life. Standing-Sweet-Grass, Shadow-Woman’s son, now came down into the lodge to see what they had. After he had seen everything he said it was time for everybody to lie down and go to sleep. Early the next day after all had awoke, Standing-Sweet-Grass got up and had a talk with his mother. He told her that the seeds had been given her by these people for her use, and for the use of all when they should increase in numbers, and that she should distribute them so that they would always be in use. He himself, he said, had to go on with his work. So he started on a journey, going south. He commanded the trees to grow and they grew; he commanded the water to flow and it flowed, as he had commanded. After the great flood of waters there were many forms left in the mud, these he commanded to change into hills and mountains. He commanded the wild animals to roam over the prairies and through the forests. When he had done these things he returned to his mother and told her to remember what he had said to her, that everything must be straight with her while he was doing his work. Then he commanded the birds to leave the Beaver-Lodge, saying that hereafter human beings would sometimes need to use them for food and other things. When he had given this command, the birds all left the lodge, saying first they wished to go near him. So when they left they all gathered around him. The boy told them that his mother had not obeyed him and had therefore done him wrong, hence he would not return to her, but would go to his father, the Man-Above. While the birds were still around him the boy put them in a

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trance and when they came to they realized that the boy had disappeared, but where he had stood they saw a little bunch of standing sweet-grass. After all this had happened, Shadow-Woman, the mother of StandingSweet-Grass, and her husband moved out of the Place-of-Beavers and erected a lodge of their own. Soon the woman became pregnant and a little later she gave birth to a child, which was a girl. In those times everything grew very rapidly and soon the girl could move about. Time passed on and Shadow-Woman soon gave birth to an-other child, which was a boy, so that they had now a girl and a boy. Time passed on and the boy asked his mother if they could not put up another and a better lodge, so that they might have more room. The mother said yes; so the boy and his sister went and got some mud, blood, and sand, mixed them and molded them into an axe that was to be used in cutting the timber. Then the husband of Shadow-Woman had killed a buffalo while hunting and had brought in the four shoulder blades. They were to be used in digging. With these tools the boy and girl went to work and built a house, a dug-out. They all moved in to the new lodge and the boy and girl married and they soon had a girl baby and then again very soon they had a boy baby. In the meantime, Shadow-Woman had given birth to another boy, and the children all grew very fast. Then the first pair of children, which were married, said to their mother that they ought to make another and a larger house. This they did, and they moved into it, and the boy’s wife was now pregnant again. Time passed on and the boy was now a man, but he was mean and abused his father and mother. Finally the mother told him that it was not right for him to act this way. She also said that the time was about come when she (ShadowWoman) and her husband would have to go to someplace else. By this time the second girl and second boy of Shadow-Woman were married. They decided to build still another house, into which this couple moved. They now had made pottery to boil meat in, while the newly married couple had brought in a stone with which they were to make a corn grinder. Time passed on and everything grew rapidly, and soon Shadow-Woman gave birth to a third girl, and soon after to a third boy, and then they grew rapidly, were soon married, and the second couple built a lodge for them. The time now came when the old people called all their children and grandchildren to their lodge, saying to them that they had something to say to them. The mother, when they were all together, told her children that there was some person (above) who had made them and who had given them power, that she was the mother of another son (Standing-Sweet-Grass) who had disappeared, that only by believing that the Man-Above had given them these things could they rely on getting everything. Now in those times it was always the case that the oldest

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children were the meanest and the youngest the smartest, hence the oldest daughter and the oldest son did not seem to pay any attention to what the mother said. Time passed on and the three families increased and the three lodges became crowded. So the children, as they married, moved out and built new lodges for themselves. The oldest son kept on abusing his mother, and she had grown more and more tired of this treatment, and she decided to move away off. When she had come to this decision, her husband said that he would go with her. So they started on a journey and went due north. After they had gone a long distance they stopped, and Shadow-Woman asked her husband to what place he wanted to go. He started on alone and went in a northwest direction, where he became Clearness-after-a-Rain. Then Shadow-Woman went alone on her way toward the north, where she disappeared and became Rain-Woman. Time passed on and there was now a large village of the descendants of these people, for they had increased and increased. There were now three head men: the first chief was named Boy-Chief; the second chief was named Coup-Sticks, for he had two red painted sticks which he used after any brave act; the third chief was named Everywhere-Always-Brave, for in attacks on enemies he had been very brave, had done everything, and had gone every place. The village itself where all these people lived was called Village-by-Side-of-Big-Elm-Tree. Now, if since the time of that village seven men had each lived one hundred years and each man had been born on the day of the death of the other, the seventh man would be alive now and if he should live one hundred years, at his death it would be seven hundred years since the time of the Village-by-Side-ofBig-Elm-Tree. Time passed on, and this village was attacked by enemies (Apache). In the fight, one of the chiefs killed a chief of the enemy. After the fight they found that of their own people no one was killed and that the enemy had lost one. So the chief invited all his people around the big elm-tree, and gave out four drums, two on each side, and they had a Victory dance. When the dance began it happened that there were so many people around the tree and the drums were making so much noise that the elm-tree began to shake and quiver, and the people saw that the tree was enjoying itself and taking part in the dance. As they danced the women would get partners to dance with. After this dance the chiefs came together in council, and said that they ought to go and look for another place to live in instead of the old place, so they invited everybody to be present, and when the people had all arrived they told them what they had decided to do. This decision was then announced to all the people. Then they moved under the leadership of Boy-Chief. At those times all

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had to pack their belongings on their back. Thus they journeyed on and came to a place where they built new houses, and the new village they called Perchedupon-a-Mountain. The people would make journeys to their old homes to fetch things they had left behind. At the time of the new village there was a big band of people living very near them and called Pawnees. Time went on and matters progressed as usual; they raised their crops, and the men hunted game. The men used to go out in a party, and when they came to buffalo or other game they would make a surround, for they had no horses, and their weapons were stone-pointed arrows and stone knives. Now of the two big bands (Wichita and Pawnee) there were five chiefs, two of them being Pawnee. They all came together in council, and, in talking over matters, they decided that the time had come for the two bands to depart from each other. One band was to travel northward (the Pawnee), while their own band (the Wichita) with three chiefs was to travel southward. It was spring, and the band (Wichita) kept traveling toward the south. On their way they would stop a little while, but still they went south, looking over the country to spy out the best place for their homes. But they returned to the place where there were some mountains (Perched-Upon-a-Mountain). It was now about the middle of hot weather. They found that the Pawnee chiefs with their band had gone on to the north. Then they invited all the people about them and told them that they had selected a fine place for their new homes and that soon they would move thither. Finally they all began to move, packing things on their backs and on dog travois. It took a long time to get to the place. When they got there they called their village Village-on-North-Slope-withWind-from-the-North. A little while after they had settled here, enemies began to appear: the Apache would come from the southwest, and the Osage from the northeast. Now there was living at the time an old man who was always giving good advice to the men, especially to the young men, telling them what was right, and the best ways to do things. So now he announced to the young men that there would be a race on the following morning. The next morning he started off for the race, in a northeasterly direction, taking with him all the young men who wished to run. Arriving at the starting-place, the old man told them that the Man-Above had given them all their power; that these races were for exercise, to make them strong, that they were never to eat anything before the race. Then the time came for the start. They all ran a little way, then they turned and went back to the old man. They did this three times and at the fourth time the race began in

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earnest. At the end of the race all the young men were told by the old man to go to the nearest stream, dive in the water, and drink a lot of water and vomit it all up again. This was the rule of the race. The village had now been founded about one year, and they raised a crop to sustain them. They now decided to move camp again. So they packed their things on their backs and on the dog travois and set out on a journey, crossing a river, and went on to a place, which the three chiefs had selected for them. They halted at the bend of the river, where the river had a long straight course toward the east. At night it seemed as if the moon were traveling on the water. Sometimes the river was dry and it had a sandy bed, and then it seemed as though the moon were coming along on the sand. So they named the place Moon-Coming-on-Sand. At this place there was good protection from the enemy and they lived there a long time, forgetting their desire to move on to a better place. The old chiefs had ordered the people to make dug-out lodges, and they were secure from the enemy. By this time the three old chiefs bad grown very old, and were so feeble that they had to be led around. Also by this time the chiefs had grown sons who had become head men in their fathers’ places. But the tribe had not yet arrived at the place in the high mountains (Wichita Mountains), which the old man had chosen. And now the three old chiefs, Coup-Sticks, Boy-Chief, and Everywhere-Always-Brave, died of old age. Time passed on, and one of the young chiefs said it was time to continue their journey to the place, which their fathers had selected for their homes. They now set out again toward the south, but on the way, at a certain place on a rocky ford of the river (near Chilocco) the son of old Coup-Sticks separated from the other two young chiefs and with his band drifted toward the east and made a new settlement near the mouth of Black Bear creek. The other two chiefs with their bands continued their journey and stopped at a place known as High-Hills-Extending-into-River (near the Red Hills at Watonga). They did not stay there long, and soon moved south again. This time they started down in two bands, for there were so many of them. One band settled on top of the hills, and their village was called High-land Village (head of McCusky Canyon), while the other band settled at Lowland Village. When they were all settled, the people used to go out on hunting trips, and often they would look toward the southwest where they could see the mountains (Wichita) and they would often say among themselves, “Those mountains have been selected for our home.” So they called the mountains “Our Mountains,” and they often wondered what was over there. Now at this time there was a certain woman who had heard much about the mountains and she wanted to move there, but she died of old age.

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At that time there was off to the east of the village a lake and in the middle of the lake was an island with large cottonwood trees on it. In a tree was a nest of bald eagles. The men were always going out hunting, and one day a young man went off that way to hunt. He stopped at the edge of the lake and heard some kind of noise up in the air. He looked up and saw an eagle rapidly descending; it lit on a tree on the island. Then the eagle spoke to the young man, telling him not to go back home but to stay there, as he had some power he wanted to give him. When it was late in the evening the eagle came down from the nest and requested the young man to come up close to where he was, that he must not be afraid, for the water was shallow. So the young man waded over to the island and went up close to the eagle, from which he received power. The eagle asked the young man if he had seen him descend, whereupon the young man replied that he had, and the eagle told him that this was the way he always looked out for his prey and that this was the power that he had given him. He also said that if at any time anyone should kill a bald eagle he should go and take it to the right side of the wind and take out the eagle’s wing-bone and make of it a whistle for his use; but he was forbidden to kill the eagle himself. After saying this, the eagle continued that he was, of course, one of the fowls of the air, but that once he had been a human being having great powers; that he would give him these powers, though less marked in degree than those which he himself possessed; that he would be useful to him during his life. The eagle also told the young man that he could not say that he should live forever, but that someday he would have to die; that these powers were good until death; that they were of use in doctoring. The eagle also told the young man that he would give him power to start up a dance, which would be for the people, to be called the deer dance. Then the eagle said, “Come closer,” whereupon he blew breath in the young man’s mouth, giving him power with which to make himself useful while on expeditions and while doctoring or in dancing. The young man now took his quiver and returned home and went to bed. While sleeping, he dreamed that someone was talking to him; he did not know who it was, or where he was, but he heard a confirmation that the eagle had given to him power, that it was for his own good, and that it would make him a useful man. On awaking, the young man at first thought that someone had actually spoken to him, but it was only a dream. After this, time passed on, and the head man of Lowland Village sent for some man from Highland Village to come down to his camp, telling them that he wanted to move to the point south and west, which he had selected. Four

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men were selected to go down to the Lowland Village chief. They were told on arriving that he wanted to go at once to this spot, that if at any time they should get ready, they would find him there, and that as the country was becoming familiar to all hunters they all would know the way. The time came when this chief set out with his party for the spot which he had chosen, where they finally arrived, finding that a place had been selected for their home, and they named the place Place-of-Rock-Extending-over-Water (at the west end of the Wichita range). Now on the day of the departure of this party, a second party, ignorant of the plans of the first party, set out for the same place. After the first party had arrived in their new home, the man who had received the power from the eagle bade the people to allow him to make his sacrifice to the eagle by taking his pipe, and thus taking possession of the country. The second party now made their appearance, coming to the very same spot selected by the first party. The time was now come for the young man to make his offering. Calling upon all, men, women, and children, to arrange themselves in a line from north to south, facing the east, and to sit upon the ground; this done, he passed in front of the line and received from them a small buffalo robe which he placed upon the ground. He then took out of his bundle tobacco seeds and filled his pipe. When the first man made his offering to the above, it meant that they asked the Man-Above to let the people have no trouble, and that they might live without experiencing hard times. By puffing smoke to the south he meant to ask of the South star, which has power to care for a person while out on an expedition, that their people, while out on the expedition, might be under his care and always return home safe. By puffing smoke to the north he meant to ask the North star to watch over their children, that they might grow and be without sickness. By puffing smoke to the east he was making an offering to the Sun, that the people whenever traveling might be in his care. After these things had come to pass, the people announced that they had seen everything that had been done, that now all the people, especially the women, could go out and stake out their homes in security. He also said that in the middle of the projected village there were to be poles put up for a place for their dances. He also told his people that if he had done his duty aright, on the next morning there would be a fog, for a sign thereof. He then selected two of the strongest men to hold the robe down. They also got two pieces of soap weed, with which he made fire. Then he lighted his pipe, and puffed on it and blew smoke four times to the above, four times to the west, to the south, to the north, and to the east. After he had done this he gave it to the man on the right, who was holding the robe,

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and he, taking the pipe so that the opening of the bowl pointed toward the northwest, emptied it. When the next day came there was a dense fog, showing that he had made his offering in the way that power had been given him. Now the time had come to make their village, and by the time they had put their houses up, they began to get things ready to build the dance lodge. First they cut poles. They then hewed them on the sides so that they would bend. This man now selected a certain woman to do this work, telling her how to put the poles up, and told her to send someone after water-moss and bring it there. Then they took the first pole, put it on the east side, dug a hole, put the moss in it and the pole on top of it. Then they put in position poles on the south, west, and north sides. They then took four more poles and put one on the east, one on the south, one on the west, and one on the north side. Then they all went on with the work, all taking part in finishing the lodge. They made the poles meet at the top, and got bark (soap weed), took it on the south-west and put it in hot ashes, which softened it so that they could use it to tie the poles with. They took willows and used them for cross-binders. Then they began to put on the grass covering. This was easy work, for they used bark and buffalo hides cut in strips to tie the grass in position. This finished the dance lodge. Then the man announced that in the middle of summer, about the time of the gathering of the corn, he would give them a dance, inviting everybody. In some of the houses they had a whole buffalo hide sewed up, full of corn, and in some it seemed as though a live buffalo were standing up. In other houses the corn was piled up on the top of the arbor. Time passed on, and the moon began to shine in the early part of the night, i. e. the moon was full. He now said that the time was come for a dance; so he called in all the older people, and got the young boys to go toward the west to gather sage, who, when they had brought it, went around, first on the north side, then by the east side, then to the south side, and finally to the lodge, where they entered. They were told to leave the sage by the south door. Then the man took the sage and spread it out around the lodge, beginning on the south side and continuing it on around to the west side of the north door; then he began spreading it on the east side of the north door, continuing around to the east side of the south door. Thus a barren space was left in front of the two doors. Then he took the remainder of the sage and started a fire. All the old people were now asked to enter the lodge and to take with them their rattles. He now sent a man after four bows, which when they had brought them he placed on the west side of the south door, together with four rattles.

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At the opening of the dance the servant (i. e. the man who had gotten the bows) was selected to pick out the singers, one group of four for the west side, one group of four for the north side, one group of four for the east side, and one group of four for the south side, one of each group being the leader and having power to make the people eat the red berries. Just before they began to sing there came a woman with a boy about fifteen years old, to have some medicine given him by the doctors in order that he might possess the same power that they had. So the mother made the offering to the people that always came first, that is, corn and pumpkin. Then a leader of the dance told the people to get ready; that the singers were getting ready to sing four songs. Then the leader announced that the next day would be the day for the regular ceremony, and that there should be no boy present. Then the four singers began to sing and the boy was placed on the north side of the fire, facing south. A big fire had been started and the people began to dance, including the boy. While the singing was going on the leader announced that the songs would be sung by the four singers sitting on the south side, that four more songs would be sung by the four singers on the west side, four by the four men on the north side, and four by those on the east side that in that way they should sing thereafter. Passing the bows from one singer to another, they danced four days and four nights. The leader now announced to the people that they should be getting ready to give the boy the red bean. While the dancing was going on the leader asked certain men from the west side if they could not give the boy the bean so that he could make him able to be like themselves. A certain man was selected to attend to this matter, and he sent the boy to a certain man on the east side, who accepted the order, and took charge of the boy, whereupon he arose, took a sage and went around the fire four times, from north to east, then to the south and west. He then passed the sage around the fire four times. Then, holding one end in his mouth and the other in his hand, he gave it a shake, and two beans fell out, which he ground up in his mouth into a dough. He then made four passes toward the boy’s mouth, and made him swallow it at once. Then they went on with the dance, all having whistles with breath feathers on the end, some being of the stork and some of the eagle. The leader arose with an eagle-wing fan in his hand and a bone whistle in his mouth. Then he got the stuffed eagle in his arms, which, the people noticed, moved. Then reaching around over the fire with his right hand he produced a bean, put it in his mouth and chewed it. He then put the bean on his whistle, carried it from south to north, passed it over the fire, approached the boy, and put it in his mouth. (These beans should never be chewed, but should be swallowed whole.)

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It was now late in the evening, and the boy was no longer able to dance alone. This is the condition one should be in who wished to become a member of this dancing society. The boy had cramps in his arms and legs, and it was apparent that he was no longer able to dance alone, so his mother assisted him. At noon on the following day the boy was unable to move, which was evidently on account of cramps. He was in a bad condition, so they laid him flat upon the ground, face downward, and with head to the west. Now it was the custom when a person during initiation fell into this condition to apply the jaw of the gar pike to any portion of his body to see if the scratching could be felt. If so he was obliged to get up and continue to dance. But in this case they employed a stone, instead of the jaw of the gar pike, to scratch him with. On finding that the scratching produced no sensation, some became fearful and excited, thinking the boy to have been killed. The leader then selected four men to carry him off on a robe to the east of the lodge and lay him upon a slight elevation. After they had obtained a robe they carried the boy as instructed and laid him on the ground, where they left him. The leader then instructed the dancers to dance until the four days had expired. At the approach of the third night the boy had a vision. It seemed as though someone had appeared to him, asking him to get up, as that was his grave. The voice also told him that the dance was one of the most powerful that had ever been given, and that the dancers had done right to bring him there, as he (the speaker) would give him great powers. After he awoke, the boy looked around, but saw nobody, though on the ground he saw something that had been dead a long time. He saw the thing move, and it told the boy that it would be seen of him. Finally the dead person arose, and the boy saw that he was very slender. He said to the boy, “I died as I am.” The boy looked back again and the dead person was changed. From now on, till the daylight came, this man spoke to the boy, saying that he would disappear. Then the man leaned over, and was gone. The boy fell over on the same place and slept. While he was sleeping, the skeleton told him that he was giving him powers. Day came. The dance continued. The leader forbade the people to go to the place where the boy was lying. Night came again, when the object again appeared to the boy. He said, “Wake up, you have slept too much.” The boy woke, rose up, and found the man sitting in front of him. After he had appeared, he told the boy that he would tell him who he was. He was once, he said, the head man of the people who had lived there, and that he had died

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from sickness. He also told him that his name was Bear. Now that he had given the boy powers, he told him that he should never eat the flesh of the bear. While they were talking, day had come. Bear had disappeared, the boy lying in the same way as before and going to sleep. This was the final day of the dance. Then the people thought that the boy had died and that the leader had obtained certain power from the animals. Night came again, and Bear appeared to the boy the third time and talked as before. The boy now arose, looked at Bear, who was now before him. Bear seemed different. He now saw that it was a man, that he was painted up and had on a necklace of bear claws. The man now spoke and told the boy that he had brought these things to him; if anything should happen, these things would be of use to him. Thus, he was to use the necklace in times of war, and if he went before his enemies he should wear it upside down, but while doctoring he was to wear the necklace with the claws down. The man also said to the boy that he was dead, never to live again, but that the boy would live again, but was at that time in a dead state, and that it would be night before he would come to life again. The people at the lodge were uneasy, thinking the boy to be dead, but the leader persisted in his statement that the boy would live again at the end of four days. On the second night the Bear man again appeared and talked with the boy. He told him that he would give him power which would be valuable in doctoring a sick person that when anyone was very sick he should get a feather from the wing of a buzzard and cut the sick man open with it; thus he could cure lung trouble. Then he disappeared as the day drew near. On the third night the Bear man again talked with the boy and disappeared with the coming of morning. Night came again, and the boy was again awakened by this same man telling him to rise and stand on his feet. He then said to him that when the time came for him to meet his death, it would not be through war, but by sickness. The Bear man also told the boy that he had come to his real life again and would have to return to his home, but that there was one thing that he could not do, viz., live forever, but that he must die some time. He also told him things that he should do that would never fail him, that in his doctoring he should never fail. After these powers had been given him, the boy was told that he had all the powers which the Bear had, and that if he should have any children, as soon as they were old enough, he should tell them what he had told the boy and give them these powers, so that the Bear man’s powers might never run out, but be perpetuated by the children. Then he told the boy that he would have to leave him, as he had given him all his powers. All at once the Bear disappeared. The morning of the fourth day came and the boy rose up. On looking down where this skeleton had lain, he saw nobody there. Then the boy talked

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The Plains and Plateau | Arikara Creation

to himself, saying, “You have given me powers and I will make use of them all the days of my life. Now I will have to leave this place and return home. I, Broken-Leg-Bear, will go back to my home.” During the day Broken-Leg-Bear went back to his home, entered his house, saw his mother. She was glad to see him and he was glad to see her. Then said the boy to his mother, “I have come back again and I am pleased to be back again.” The next day after his return, he heard that some enemies had attacked one end of the village and were pressing the people hard. Then he went out, painted like a bear, with his bear-claw necklace upside down, and with his bow and arrows, and went on his way to the scene of the fight. When he got there he went into the midst of the enemy, relying on the power which had been given, so that he would never be hit, or, if he should be hit, the arrow would break, and that each one of the bear claws had the power to multiply to twenty, and that that would cause the enemy to see him as though he were twenty men for each claw. After his appearance the fight ended. Later on, the time came when a person called on this boy doctor, BrokenLeg-Bear, to treat his son. He offered the boy many things, such as food, robes, and lodges if he should save his son, as he thought that the doctor could surely cure his son. So the Broken-Leg-Bear went to see the sickly son, having his buzzard feather at the back of his head. He came to the place, and there the sick boy lay on the bed, only just alive. He now made every body leave the lodge, while he went through his performances. He took his feather and drew it edgewise over the boy’s body, cutting him open. He looked all through the body and saw that there was a certain sickness in there, which he took out, and the boy was cured. Then be took the feather and passed it over the wound and made the boy whole again. Then he said, “Son, arise! You are healed!” The boy lived. Broken-Leg-Bear performed many other strange things after that, and he was now grown up to be a man. He had a young brother, whose descendants are living today.

ARIKARA CREATION Tradition Bearer: Peter Burdash Source: Grinell, George Bird. “Pawnee Mythology.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893):123–27.

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Date: ca. 1893 Original Source: Arikara National Origin: Native American

The Arikaras were closely related to the Skidi Pawnee and historically lived in close proximity to the Mandans (both of whom are mentioned in this myth) in the Great Plains area. Their villages were composed of earth-lodge dwellings, and they grew corn, beans, and squash, as well as venturing out to engage in seasonal buffalo hunts. The central ritual for the Arikaras was the Mother Corn Ceremony, and each of the bands preserved sacred bundles that were the source of supernatural power and a focus of ritual life.

I

n the beginning Atiuch created the earth and a people of stone. These people were so strong that they had no need of the Creator, and would not obey him. They even defied him; so he determined to put an end to them. He therefore caused a great rain, which fell continuously for many days, until the land was all covered with water, and the trees were dead and the tops of the hills were submerged. Many of these people being big and heavy, and so able to move only slowly, could not reach the tops of the hills, to which all tried to escape for safety, and even those who did so were drowned by the rising waters, which at last covered the whole land. Everything on the earth was dead. [Today in the washed clay bluffs of the bad lands, the horizontal lines of stratification are shown as marking the level of the waters at various times during this flood, and the hard sandstone pinnacles which cap the bluffs, and which. sometimes present a rude semblance of the human form, are pointed out as the remains of these giants.] Now when everything was dead, there was left a mosquito flying about over the water and a little duck swimming on it. These two met, and the duck said to the mosquito, “How is it that you are here?” The mosquito said: “I can live on this foam; how is it with you?” The duck answered, “When I am hungry I can dive down and eat the green weed that grows under the water.” Then said the mosquito: “I am tired of this foam. If you will take me with you to taste of the things of the earth, I shall know that you are true.” So the duck took the mosquito under his wing, where he would keep dry, and dived

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down with him to the bottom of the water, and as soon as they touched the ground all the water disappeared. There was now nothing living on the earth. Then Atiuch determined that he would again make men, and he did so. But again he made them too nearly like himself. They were too powerful, and he was afraid of them, and again destroyed them all. Then he made one man like the men of today. When this man had been created he said to himself, “How is it now? There is still something that does not quite please me.” Then Atiuch made a woman, and set her by the man, and the man said, “You knew why I was not pleased. You knew what I wanted. Now I can walk the earth in gladness.” Atiuch seems to have made men and the animals up above in the sky where he lives, and when he was satisfied with what he had made, he resolved to place them upon the earth. So he called the lightning to put them on the earth, and the lightning caused a cloud to come, and the cloud received what Atiuch had made. But the lightning, acting as he always does, set them down on the earth with a crash, and as the ground was still wet with the water that had covered it, they all sank into the soft earth. This made the lightning feel very badly and he cried, and to this day whenever he strikes the earth he cries. That is what we bear when it thunders. Now all living things were under the ground in confusion and asking one another what each was, but one day, as the mole was digging around, he broke a hole through, so that the light streamed in, and he drew back frightened. He has never had any eyes since; the light put them out. The mole did not want to come out, but all the others came out on to the earth through the hole the mole had made. After they had come out from the ground, the people looked about to see where they should go. They had nothing. They did not know what to do, nor how to support themselves. They began to travel, moving very slowly; but after their third day’s camp, a boy, who had been left behind asleep at the first camp that they had made, overtook the company, carrying in his arms a large bundle. The people asked him what this was. He replied that when he woke up and found the people gone, he cried to Father for help, and Father gave him this bundle, which had taught him to find the way to his people. Then the people were glad, and said that now they would find the way, and they went on. After they had gone a long way, they came to a deep ravine with high steep banks, and they could not cross it. There they had to stop. All came to this place, but they could not get over it. They asked the boy what they should do, and he opened the bundle, and out of it came a bird with a sharp bill, the most sacred of all birds, the bone striker. Wherever this bird strikes its bill it makes a hole. This bird flew over the ravine and began to strike the bank with his bill,

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and flew against the bank again and again, and at last the dirt fell down and filled up the ravine, and made a road for the people to pass across. A part of them passed over, but before all had done so the road closed up, and the ravine became as it had been at first. Those who were behind perished. They were changed into badgers, snakes, and animals living in the ground. They went on farther, and at length came to a thick wood, so thick that they could not pass through it. Here they had to stop, for they did not know how they could pass through this timber. Again they asked the boy what should be done, and he opened the bundle, and an owl came out from it, and went into the wood and made a path through it. A number of the people got through the wood, but some old women and poor children were lagging behind, and the road closed up and caught them, and these were changed to bears, wildcats, elks, and so on. The people went on farther, and came to a big river that poured down and stopped them, and they waited on the bank. When they went to the bundle, a big hawk came out of it. This bird flew across the river and caused the water to stop flowing. They started across the dry river bed, and when part had gone across and were on this side, and some old women and poor children were still in the stream bed, the water began to flow again and drowned them. These people were turned into fishes, and this is why fishes are related to men. They went on until they came to some high hills called the Blue Mountains, and from these mountains they saw a beautiful country that they thought would be good to live in, but when they consulted the boy who carried the bundle he said: “No, we shall see life and live in it.” So they went on. Soon after this some people began to gamble, and one party won everything that the others had, and at last they began to quarrel and then to fight, and the people separated and went different ways, and the animals, which had all this time been with them, got frightened and ran away. But some of the people still remained, and they asked the boy what they should do, and he went to the bundle and took from it a pipe, and when he held up the pipe the fighting ceased. With the pipe was a stone arrow-head, and the boy told them they must make others like this, for from now on they would have to fight; but before this there had been no war. In the bundle also they found an ear of corn. The boy said: “We are to live by this. This is our Mother.” The corn taught them how to make bows and arrows. Now the people no longer spoke one language, and the eight tribes who had run away no longer understood each other and lived together, but wandered about, and the Mother (Atina) no longer remained with them, but left them alone. The ninth or remaining band—which included the Rees, Mandans, and Pawnees—now left the Blue Mountains and traveled on until they reached a

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great river, and then they knew what the boy meant by saying, “We shall see life and live in it.” Life meant the Missouri River, and they said, “This is the place where our Mother means us to live.” The first night they stayed by the river, but they went off in the morning and left behind them two dogs asleep. One was black, the other white; one was male, the other female. At the third camp they said, “This is a good place; we will live here.” They asked the boy what they should do, and he told them that they should separate into three bands; that he would divide the corn among them, and they could plant it. He broke off the nub and gave it to the Mandans, the big end and gave it to the Pawnees, and the middle of the ear he gave to the Rees. To this day the Mandans have the shortest corn, the Rees next in size, and the Pawnees the best and largest. He also took from the bundle beans, which he divided among the people, and the sack of a buffalo’s heart full of tobacco. Here by the river they first planted and ate, and were well off, while the eight bands that had run away were dying of hunger. When they got here they had no fire. They knew nothing of it. They tried to get it from the sun, and sent the swallow to bring it. He flew toward the sun, but could not get the fire, and came back, saying that the sun had burned him. This is why the swallow’s back is black today. The crow was sent. He used to be white, but the sun burned him too. Another kind of bird was sent, and he got the fire. After this they traveled again, and as they traveled they were followed by two great fires that came up on the hills behind them and shut them in, so that they did not know how to escape. The bundle told them to go to a cedar-tree on a precipice, and that if they held fast to this they would not be hurt by these two great bad things. They did so and escaped, but all cedars have been crooked ever since. These two great fires were the two dogs that had been left behind at their first camp. These dogs then came to them and said, “Our hearts are not all bad. We have bitten you because you left us without waking us up, but now we have had our revenge and we want to live with you.” But sickness and death have followed the people ever since they first left these dogs behind. The dogs were taken back into the company and grew old. The female dog grew old and poor, and died first, and was thrown into the river, and after that the male dog died, but before he died they said to him: “Now you are going to die and be with your wife.” “Yes,” he replied. “But you will not hate us. From this time you will eat us, and so you will think well of us. And from the female dog’s skin has come the squash, and you will like this, and on this account, also, you will not hate us.”

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So ever since that day dogs have been raised as friends, and afterwards eaten for revenge, because of their treachery. After this, they looked out on the prairie and saw some great black animals having horns, and they looked as though they were going to attack them. The people dug a hole, and got in and covered it over, and when the buffalo rushed on them they were safe, though their dwelling trembled and the people thought the roof would fall in. Finally someone looked out and saw the buffalo standing around. They did not look very fierce, so forty men, women, and children ventured out, but the buffalo attacked them, tore off their arms and ate them, and tore off their hair. Ever since that time there has been a lock of Ree’s hair in the buffalo’s mouth, hanging down from his chin. One handsome young woman was carried off by the buffalo. They held a council to know what they should do with her. She said she could not travel, and they did not wish to kill her. They did not wish to let her go either. But one night when she was sleeping in the midst of the band, a young bull came to her and pulled her sleeve, and told her to follow him, that he would show her the way back to her people. He did so, and his parting words to her were, “Tell your people that we do not like the bows and arrows that they make, and so we have attacked you.” The young woman was gladly received. They asked the boy with the bundle what should be done with the buffalo. He answered, “The buffalo are to be our food. They ate us first, so now we will always follow them for food. We must make arrows like the one we got with the pipe, and fight the buffalo with them.” After making many arrows of the flint they use for striking fires, they all came out of the hole in the earth and lived by planting and hunting.

COYOTE’S THEFT OF FIRE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Ute Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 252–60. Date: 1900 Original Source: Ute National Origin: Native American

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The Plains and Plateau | Coyote’s Theft of Fire

The Utes territory lay in northern New Mexico, western Colorado, and central Utah. After the arrival of the Europeans, the Utes acquired horses and lived as nomadic hunters and gatherers. There was no real central tribal organization among the various bands of the Utes. Instead, each band had a headman who was agreed upon because of his personal charisma and abilities. The headman had no authority to issue orders or command people or resources. This pattern of leadership is reflected in the following myth of “Coyote’s Theft of Fire.” In the narrative, Coyote’s usual trickster qualities are apparent only in his deceitful acquisition of fire from an outsider group. Otherwise he is purely a culture hero.

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oyote lived with the people of whom he was chief. They had no fire. They gathered large flat rocks and piled them together. Toward evening the racks used to begin to be hot. In the morning Coyote threw water on them; then they steamed, and that made them still hotter. The other people did the same with their heaps. They all used these rocks instead of fire. Now Coyote was lying on his bed in his tent looking before him. Something fell down in front of him. It was a small piece of burnt rush that had gone up with the smoke and had been carried by the wind. Coyote picked it up and put it away. Without delay he went outside and called to his head men to come. They gathered in his tent. He told them about what had fallen down; he said, “This is what I mean. This is what I want you to look at. Here it is. Look at it. What do you think? Do you know what it is? Where does it come from? I wish that you all speak.” They did not speak. They thought about it and were silent. Coyote said, “I do not want that you do that. I want you to talk. In order that we may find this out, I wish you all not to be silent.” Then one of the head chiefs said to him, “We do not know what this is.” They all assented. “Yes,” said Coyote. Then he pointed to one of his men, the Owl. “I select you; bring very many Owls.” He sent another to call the Eagle people; one to bring the Crows; one to the Grouse and the Sage-Hens and the Hummingbird tribe. He also sent to the Hawk-Moths, and to all the kinds of birds. They were to send runners to other tribes, and all were to come to him quickly.

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Then he said to one man, “My friend, go to the river and get reeds. Bring them here.” His friend went to get the reeds. The others went home. Because Coyote had told him to be quick, the one man soon came back bringing reeds. Then Coyote took a stick and crushed the reeds into shreds. He finished this about sunset. When it was dark he called to his friends to come to him again. Then they came. They did not know his plan, and they asked each other, “Why does he do that?” He had a heap of the shredded bark of the reeds. His friends watched him. In the night he told them to go home. It was late. When he was alone he took dark blue paint; he rubbed the paint and the bark together, and the bark became blue. When he rubbed a long time the bark finally became black. It was black like human hair. Coyote could hardly sleep. Now it was morning again. After sunrise he called to his friends to come. He put the shredded bark on his head, and it was like long hair reaching down to the ground. When they came he did not look to them like Coyote, but like another person. Then he asked them, “Who knows why I am doing this? What do you think?” No one of his friends answered. They all sat still. They did not know what his purpose was. “We do not know what this is,” they said. They thought that he asked them merely to trick them, because he himself must know his purpose. Then he sent them home again. When they had gone out he took off his bark hair, wrapped it up, and put it away. Then he thought that the tribes that he had sent for must be coming near. He sent his friends on the hills to look out for them. He told them to go quickly. Then they went as quickly as possible. Coyote hardly slept. He constantly thought about what he had found. Now some of his people met the various tribes coming. The different people continued to arrive at short intervals from different directions. They were all able men, not the entire people. They came towards his tent. He ordered the arriving tribes to go to the tents of his own people and not to camp separately. “Eat quickly and come to council with me,” he told them. They did so. Then all the head men came. They sat in circles in several rows to listen to Coyote. It was night. Continually he asked the new people what the thing was. He asked them from what direction it came, or whether it came from above. It was laid on something and handed from one man to another. Nobody knew what it was. When no one knew it, Coyote said, “I intend to hunt up this thing. I shall find out from where it comes, from what tribe it is, or whether it is from the sky. I want you to search, looking where each of you thinks best. That is why I called you. We will start in the morning.”

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They all said, “Very well, we follow your advice. We will go behind you; we wish that you lead us. That is why we came here.” Now they were ready to start. “Which way would you go?” they asked each other. “I do not know,” they said to each other. Then Coyote spoke, “There is mostly a considerable wind from the West; it does not come from any other direction. I think that is where this thing came from. That is what I think. Let us go there.” Coyote took his bark hair by a carrying-thong. Then they started. Then they camped for the night. That night Coyote had nothing to say. Before it was daylight they went on again. They camped overnight. Coyote said nothing. They went on again. The third night they camped at the foot of a mountain. Next day they climbed the mountain. They stopped at the crest of the range. Coyote asked his people which was the way to go; but none knew. Then Coyote himself spoke. He saw a mountain. It was far off, so that he could hardly see it. It appeared like smoke. He saw only its summit. “We will go straight to that mountain there,” he said. So they went down from their mountain and camped at its foot. Coyote spoke to them there. “I think the place is much farther. I think it is near the mountain that we saw from the summit. My friends, I shall ask for scouts to go ahead.” Then they traveled on, and next camped in the level plain. Again they travelled a whole day. They approached mountains, and made a camp. Coyote said, “We will stay here. To-morrow I wish some of you to go away to look searching all over the world.” The next day he sent a large Red-tailed Hawk up to search. The Hawk came down again in another place. They went towards him. Before they quite reached him, Coyote, who was anxious, said to him, “What did you see, my friend?” The Hawk said, “I saw nothing. I became tired. I could not fly higher. I could not see the edge of the earth. I was not high enough.” “Yes,” said Coyote. He thought who was the best man to send up. “You go,” he said to the Eagle. “I do not think I will reach there,” said the Eagle. Now he started, going up and around, up and around. They could not see him. He was away longer than the Hawk; then he came back. At once Coyote, without waiting, asked him where he had been. The Eagle said, “I could not go farther. It was hard to go farther. I was tired. I saw nothing. Only I saw that the earth looked a little smoky.” Then the others thought that the Hummingbird was the best to go, and that Coyote ought to ask him. “He could do better than the Eagle.” So Coyote went to the Hummingbird. “Try what you can do, my friend. I think you can do something.” The Hummingbird gave no answer; he continued

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to sit. Then he began to make a noise and flew off. They looked after him, but lost him. They could see him no more. He was away a longer time than the other two birds. Coyote asked the rest, “Can you see the Hummingbird returning?” They said to him, “No.” Again he asked them, “Has he not come back yet? Search about! See what has become of him; perhaps he has gone to sleep.” It began to be afternoon when they went away searching. Coyote thought that they were a long time. When they were tired from looking for him, the Hummingbird at last came back. They could hardly see him coming down. They went to him, and all gathered around him. Coyote said, “Well, my friend, how far were you?” For a while the Hummingbird sat still; he said nothing. Then he said, “Very well, I will begin to speak now. At the edge of the earth and the sky, where they are together, I saw something standing. It was very far away. Something was there; I do not think we can reach it. It was a dark thing standing up, and the top was bent over. That was all I saw.” Coyote said, “That is what I thought one of you would see. That is what we are going for. It is from this that the thing came which I found.” Coyote liked very much what the Hummingbird had seen. He said, “My friend, what you say makes my heart feel good.” He was happy and went about among all his people. He could hardly sit still. He did not stay in that place the rest of the afternoon. “We will start and go a distance, then camp again for the night,” he said. Next morning they started again. They went over the mountain and camped at the foot of it on the other side. Again they traveled on and camped in the plain. The next day they crossed another ridge and camped at its farther side. Then Coyote sent some of his people up again to see how near they had come. He sent the Eagle, thinking he might see it now. Soon the Eagle came down again. “My friend, what did you see?” asked Coyote. The Eagle said, “I saw nothing. It is very dangerous to go up. It is very difficult.” Coyote said to the Hummingbird, “Go again, my friend, and see how far from it we are now.” The Hummingbird flew up again. Soon he came back. All gathered around him. The Hummingbird said, “I saw three mountain ranges this side of it. We are approaching it.” Coyote wished to go on. He started again with his people. They camped at the foot of a mountain. Crossing it, they camped at its farther side. From there they went faster, Coyote leading. They went over another range. Then Coyote

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said, “We will go on again to the foot of that mountain. That mountain is the last one. We will stop here and wash and become clean and dress. I think there are people where that is which we saw; therefore wash and decorate yourselves.” Then they did so. Coyote, too, adorned himself. He took the bark and put it into his hair. He spread it all around like hair. He parted it in the middle and wrapped up two long strands of it that reached to his feet; he wrapped them with bark. Before he had finished this he sent the Eagle up again. They were on this side of the third range. Then the Eagle came down again. He said, “We are not very far away now. I saw that which the Hummingbird saw. We are near.” “Yes,” they all said. Then they went to the top of the range. There they counted their people, and divided them into twenties. Each twenty were to go to one tent. Coyote said that he would go to the tent of the head chief, with twenty of his own head men. They descended the mountain. They came near a village that was on the top of a flat hill. Then Coyote spoke to his friends, “We have burned nothing heretofore. Our fire was not fire. We have come to fire now. We will stay here two days. It is the fire for which we have come. We will take it away from them. They will have none left here. Where the origin of the fire is, there they will have no more fire. We will take it to the place where we live, and we will possess it in our own land. I will use this hair of mine to take it away from them. I will deceive these people that have the fire. I will tell them that we wish them to make a large fire. I think that is the best way to do it. What do you think?” “Yes, that is the right way,” they said. Coyote said, “Before we take the fire away from them I shall whoop twice; keep apart by yourselves, ready to go. Do not tell them why we come here. Keep it to yourselves. All of you take my advice: follow it. Do not forget it. We have not the right kind of fire to use, but after we take this we shall possess fire in our land. We will run away. No one of us will stay. I do not think that they will let us escape easily, but they will pursue us and attack us and try to kill us.” “Very well,” they said. Then, Coyote going at the head, they went to the first tent, and he asked where the chief lived. “That is where our chief lives,” they said to him, pointing. “Very well, that is where I will live.” Coyote went there. He shook hands with the chief. “My friend, I became nearly exhausted from traveling,” said Coyote.

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The chief said to him, “Very well. You have reached my house. It is good.” All of Coyote’s men arrived. “Here are my people. You can go to their tents. You can divide and stay with them,” said the chief that owned the fire. Coyote was there overnight. Then he called to his friends, the head men, to gather at the lodge of the chief. Coyote spoke first [to the other chief], “Well, my friend, I traveled. I came here without intending anything. I came only to see you. I desire that you all make a dance for me on the second night. I came very far, and I wish to see a dance; that is what all my people like.” The other chief said, “It is good; I am glad that you came for a, dance. I like it. I will make a big dance for you near where I live.” Before sunset this council was over. After it was dark the chief called out to his people concerning the dance, “Make a dance for these people. They like to see our way of dancing.” They all assented. Coyote said that they were to put out all the large fires when they danced. The fires in the tents were also to have water poured on them. They should have only one large fire. Now they began to assemble. There were very many. They were all [gathered] in one place. All the women and children were there. None were left in the tents. Coyote said, “Let us keep up this fire all the night.” Then he unwrapped the bark and spread it. When he put it on, the people thought he was adorning himself for the dance. He danced all night without resting. He danced continually. At the beginning of daylight he whooped as a signal. Then he said, “I do not mean anything. I only whooped to show that I like this very well, to show that I like this dance. I never had this kind of dance in my land. It makes my heart good to see all these women and fine girls and your way of dancing. I mean nothing wrong.” “Very well,” they said. Then it began to be a little lighter. Coyote got close to the fire and whooped again. He was very close to the fire, dancing about it. Now his people separated from the others; they got ready to start. Coyote took off his bark hair, and seized it in his hands. With it he hit the fire and put it out. The fine shredded bark took all the fire. Coyote was not slow; it was just as he started to run that he hit the fire. He ran as fast he could. All Coyote’s people ran. They made a noise like many horses. There was nothing left for the other people; all the fire was out. They said, “That is what he intended to do [when he came]; now let us kill all his people.” Then they pursued him.

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Coyote was already over the ridge. They could not catch him at once. Then Coyote said to the Eagle, “You can run fast; take this, my friend.” “Yes,” said the Eagle. So the Eagle carried the fire for a distance. Then the Eagle said to the Hummingbird, “My friend, I am nearly exhausted. You take this.” “Very well,” said the Hummingbird, and took the fire. Coyote was far at the rear of his tribe talking to them. “If any of you are tired, and are exhausted, hide somewhere; in this way you will save your lives. When we get over this adventure we shall be safe. In this way we shall be saved by hiding.” He thought that the pursuers would kill anyone whom they ran down. They continued to exchange the fire as they became exhausted; different birds took it. The Hummingbird said to the Hawk-Moth, “I am nearly exhausted. Take it, my friend. I think you are good yet.” “Very well,” said the Hawk-Moth, and took it. Then the Hawks and the various slow birds became exhausted and hid, but the others continued to go on, and at last only the best and fastest birds were left. Coyote saw the other people coming near. He thought who of his people might be the best yet. Then he selected the Chicken-Hawk as the swiftest, and gave him the fire to carry. Coyote asked his friends if they were tired. Then he took the fire himself and ran with it, telling all his people to run after him as hard as they could. Then Coyote held it out, saying, “Someone take it quickly!” And the Hummingbird took it [again] and flew ahead. “Stop! The fire is nearly out,” said Coyote. Then the Hummingbird was angry and gave the fire back to Coyote, though he was already far in the lead. Hummingbird went aside and hid, because he was angry with Coyote. Only four were left now, Coyote, the Eagle, the Chicken-Hawk, and the Hawk-Moth. The rest had scattered as they became exhausted. The pursuers were near Coyote. They were intending to kill him. The Eagle and the two others became exhausted and hid, and Coyote alone was left, running, carrying the fire. There was a little hill. Coyote ran over the top and went into a hole and closed it up with a stone, so that it looked like the ground. He was inside, holding the fire. Only a little spark of it remained. Then he came out again, and, changing his direction somewhat, ran through a ravine that he saw. After a while the other people saw him again. Then they commenced to pursue him once more. At last they said to each other, “Let him go. We will cause rain and then snow. We will make a hard storm and freeze him to death and put the fire out.” Coyote continued to go, and it began to rain much, just as if water were being poured on him. It rained still more, and soon the ground was as if covered by water. All the hollows were

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filled, and the valleys were nearly knee-deep with water. Coyote thought that the fire would soon be gone. He thought, “I am carrying this fire now, and perhaps it will go out soon. I wish I could find someone, some animal living in this land.” He saw a small hill with a few cedars on it. He thought he might stand on the hill and be safe under the cedars, as the valleys would all be filled with water. So he went towards the hill. Before lie reached it, he saw a Black-tailed Rabbit sitting right in the water. Coyote said to him: “Quick, my friend! I have been getting fire from far away. I have it now. It is this fire that has brought me into difficulty, that has caused this rain. This fire will kill me. I am tired. You should know something. You should do something. You should know how to save this fire. Perhaps you do know some way. My friend, you must do it. I think you know something.” He gave him the fire, holding his hand over it. [There was only a finger’s length left.] The Rabbit took it and placed it right under himself. “Do not do that. You are in the water. It will go out. You will put the fire out,” said Coyote. So the Rabbit handed it back to Coyote. When he handed it back to him, more was burning than before. Then Coyote said, “Well, my friend, take it, keep it.” “No,” said the Rabbit [who was offended]. But he told Coyote, “There is a cave in the rock over there; go into it. It will be good.” “Yes,” said Coyote. When he reached the cave, he found some dry sagebrush and dry cedar lying there. Standing by the brush, he thought, “I will make a fire out of this.” So he heaped it, and placed the fire under it, and blew. Then it began to burn. Then he spoke to the dry cedar, “I shall use you. I shall make a large fire out of you. You will be burned.” So he piled the cedar on the sagebrush. He had been shivering, but soon the fire made him feel good. When the rain was over, the snowstorm and West wind were to come, the people had intended, and they should freeze him dead. Now they began. It became very cold. Coyote was in the cave. There was deep water on the ground. This began to become ice. Coyote felt good from the fire. He did not think that he would freeze to death. He began to sleep. During the night he dreamed that it was clear, that everything was gone from the sky, and that there were no clouds. In the morning he awoke. He looked up and saw that the sky was clear, everywhere was ice. Then the South wind came, and the ice all melted. Then Coyote looked for the Rabbit. He was sitting where he had sat last. Then Coyote shot him and killed him. Then he went back to the cave. He took a piece of old dry sage-brush; he bored a hole through it. Then he filled it with coals of fire, and closed it up. He thought that he could carry the fire safely thus.

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The Plains and Plateau | The Cannibal and His Wives

A Rock Squirrel with big ears was there. Coyote said to him, “I have killed your friend [the Rabbit], but you will eat him.” Then the Squirrel went away. Then Coyote put the fire under his belt and went away with it. He went away without looking around, and without watching, just as if he were at home. Then he got back home. He laid down his tube of sagebrush containing the fire. He called together the few men who were left home with the women and children. After they came, he took the fire. It looked only like a stick. He took an arrow point and bored a small hole into the stick. Then he whittled hard greasewood. “Now look, you people,” he said. He told two men to hold the sagebrush firmly to the ground. Then he bored it with the greasewood, and picked up the borings, and put them into dry grass. Blowing upon this, he soon had a fire. “This dry pine-nut will be burned hereafter. Dry cedar will also be burned. Take fire into all the tents. I shall throw away the rocks. There will be fire in every house.” Thus said Coyote. Now all the birds that had become tired and had hidden arrived. Then they all flew back to the places from which they had come; and from that time on they were birds.

THE CANNIBAL AND HIS WIVES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Ute Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 280–85. Date: 1900 Original Source: Ute National Origin: Native American

The young man of this Ute myth, although he is not a candidate for the classic culture hero role, does have at least two of the central characteristics of such a figure. Living alone with his mother outside the protection of the band and the leadership of a headman (see “Coyote’s Theft of Fire,” p. 164, for a discussion of Ute social organization) makes the protagonist a marginal figure. More important, however, is his role of cleansing the environment of monsters, thus making it safe for humanity (compare “Rabbit Kills Big Man-eater,” Vol. II, p. 98). The concluding

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remarks clarify that this is a mythic act that creates a permanent change in the world. The extermination of cannibals by a culture hero is not limited to Native American narrative, but is a cross-culturally distributed motif.

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here was a very large man. He had a big head, a protruding belly, and long feet. He had two wives. They had nothing to eat but ground grassseed. They lived alone, where they saw no one. There was not even game to hunt. The man said to his wives, “Let us go Eastward again. I am tired of eating this grass-seed. I am tired of seeing no tracks, and of seeing no game; therefore I wish to go east.” The next day they moved away. Seeing a mountain, they went up it, then down the other side. They saw a spring and camped there, staying the next day. The man said, “Stay here. I will go on and hunt.” He found the tracks of a man, a woman, and two children. Coming back he said, “I saw the tracks of four persons. I shall go and look for them; perhaps we shall see them living somewhere.” Then he went with his wives to where he had seen the tracks. There they saw two antelopes. “Kill them. I am hungry,” said one of the women to him. “No, they belong to him,” said the man. They followed the tracks and again camped at a spring. Then the man left the two women after saying to them, “I will go after that man and kill him. I want to eat him. I shall bring him back, and you also will like to eat him.” Then he went, watching closely. He saw the man, and shot him. Then he shot the woman and choked the children. He returned to his women and said, “Let us go there. I have killed them all. We will go to butcher them.” So they skinned the man and woman. Then he told one of his wives to skin the boy neatly and carefully. The meat they dried, hanging it up. They stayed there two days. The man ate all the meat. He ate the bones of the feet and every-thing else, throwing nothing away. Then he said, “Stay here; I will travel about to see if I can find anything. I will take the skin of that boy with me.” He ascended a mountain; he peered over the top, but saw nothing. Then he raised his head higher, and saw a tent, with two women and a man near it. He took the stuffed skin of the boy, held it up, and moved it about. The second time he did so, the man saw it, and said to the women, “A boy is up there. Did you see him? I will go up to him.” The cannibal laid the stuffed skin down and hid in the bushes. The man came up and said to the boy, “Who are you? Get up. Can you not sit up?” The cannibal drew his bow and shot the man. He ran a short way, fell, and died. Then the cannibal went on another hill, and did the same there. He held the boy in front of a cedar and made him wave his hand.

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“Did you see that boy? He is over there,” said a young man, who was with the women. He went up the hill. The cannibal laid the boy down, and shot this one, as he had shot the other. Thus he had killed two men. Then he showed the boy in another place; but the women did not come to him. “We will both stay here and wait until the men come,” they said. Then the cannibal made a circuit to the other side of the tent. He approached it and again showed the skin. One of the women saw the boy, and called to him, “Who are you? What tribe are you?” But the man only lowered the boy out of sight, and then made him appear to look again. But the women did not come to him; therefore, he left the hide lying and approached the tent from another side. He came up to the women. “Where is your husband?” he asked. They said to him, “He went there after a boy. A young man also went away after that one and has not come back; perhaps the boy was only playing.” Then he shot both of the women, one after the other. Taking the stuffed hide, he went back to his tent. He told his wives, “I have killed four pieces of game. Let us remove there.” Then they went there and lived in that tent. He said to his women, “Skin this woman well and tan her hide; make it your dress. After three nights, I will go to hunt again.” Then they skinned her. They tanned the skin; they made it stiff and crackling. One of them used it for a dress. The cannibal ate one of the men. He put the head into the fire to roast. “Gather the bones and get the marrow,” he said. Soon the women were fat from eating grease and marrow. After the man had slept three times, he said, “I will kill another one for you now. You stay here and I will go hunting.” Then he went away, taking the boy’s skin. He saw an old man, a woman, and a girl. On the top of the hill, he showed them the boy. The old man said, “I see a boy there. I will go to see what kind of a boy is there.” So he went up and was shot. Again the man showed the boy in another place. The old woman said, “Let us go to see who the boy is. Perhaps someone is living on the other side of the bill now.” Then they both went there. The man put down the stuffed skin and hid behind some cedars. He shot both of the women. Then he went to their tent, but he found no one else there; he had killed all. He went home and told his women. They all went there. He said to them, “Skin this woman, and make a dress of her. I will skin this old man. I think I like his skin for my blanket.” So they skinned them and dried the meat. “Now tan that skin,” he said to one of the women. Then she made it stiff. Then he said, “Remain here. I will hunt again.” Again he went, carrying the boy’s skin. He went far and found no one. In the middle of the day he became tired. He went to a spring and drank, and lay down with the stuffed hide beside him. He slept. Two men came to drink. They found

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him with the stuffed skin of the boy. They spoke to each other, and knew that he was a bad man. They fled. Then he shot at them and killed one. The other one escaped. The cannibal went home and said, “I killed one at the spring; let us go there. One of them escaped.” The women cried. “Why do you cry?” he asked. “They said, “Because you let him escape. I want him.” “Oh!” he said. “I will get him later.” The other man fled. He said to the people, “I saw a bad person. He has a big belly, a big head, and big feet. I saw that he had the skin of a boy. He is bad.” Then they removed to another camp and told those persons there. These also were afraid, and removed to another place. Thus all went away, being much afraid. Only in one camp there remained a young man and his mother. All the others fled. His mother said to him, “Let us flee, my son. He is a bad person; he will kill us.” He said to her, “O no, we will stay here. I want to talk to that one; I think he is my friend.” His mother was much frightened, and continued to tell him to go away. After a while he said to her, “Now, mother, get water in a large basket.” They lived on a slate hill. On the rock he made a small lake with the water that she brought. Ten times she brought him water, and he poured it in. Then he told his mother to grind a basketful of seeds and to cook them. She did this. She was much frightened. “I am afraid,” she said. “I will run away.” He said to her, “No, my mother, do not fear him. Let him come. He will not hurt you. Go and set fire to that cedar so that he will see the smoke, and come to visit us.” The man saw it and told his wives. “Someone is over there. I saw smoke.” They said to him, “Good, you will kill him.” He said to them, “I will go there now; perhaps there are many people. I will stay there one night; perhaps I will kill ten. If I do not come back after one night, you must come after me.” Then he traveled fast. He went on a hill and peered over. The young man was looking for him and saw him. “Look, mother, there is that man,” he said. “Oh, my son, I will run away,” said she. Then the cannibal raised the stuffed skin. The young man cried out, “Why do you do that? Come here, you.” So that one left the skin and went there. His mother said, “He is coming now. Let us run.” “No,” said the young man. She ran a short distance. He called to her, “Come back, my mother. Let him come. Give him this food.” Then she came back to him, shaking. Now the cannibal arrived there. The young man went to him quickly and said, “Well, my friend,” and took his hand. “Sit down there,” he said to him; and the man with the large belly sat down there. “Are you hungry?” he asked him.

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“Yes,” he said. “What do wish? Do you want meat or something else?” he said to him. “Anything,” said the man. “Very well. Do you like this food? It is already cooked,” said the young man. Then he gave him a basketful. That one drank it all. “Have you finished?” he asked the man. He said, “No.” Then he gave him another basketful. Again the man drank this off. The young man said to him, “Where do you live? Where is your tent? What is your purpose in coming here?” The man said to him, “I live far away. I came here with no purpose.” The young man said to him, “Stay here one night. We will talk together.” But that one wished to go back home. The young man said, “Do you wish to urinate or defecate?” “No,” said the man. “When you wish it, do so there,” said the young man to him. After a little while the man said, “I am full now. I must defecate.” The young man said to him, “Very well. Come. I made a lake over there by urinating.” The cannibal said, “Where shall I urinate?” “Here,” said the young man. Then he said, “I have a pretty eagle here on this cliff. Do you wish to see it?” Then the large-bellied one lay down and looked over the jutting cliff to see the eagle. The young man threw him down into the lake. He swam around and around. All about him the rock was steep. He could not get out. The young man watched him. Soon he began to be tired. He went down. Then he came up again; he was nearly dead. At last he drowned. The next day the young man stayed at home. He said to his mother, “Where is your rope? What did you do with it? I wish to pull that man out.” “No. He is a bad man,” she said to him. But he said, “Give me the rope. I will do what is good.” She gave him the rope. He went down to the water and tied the legs and the hands of the man. Then he pulled him up. He butchered him, skinned him, and told his mother to dry the meat. “Why do you do this?” she said. He said to her, “I think his women will come. We will give them his meat to eat and go outside. We will watch what they do.” Then he put the head under the fire in order to cook it. He laid down two large, fat pieces ready cooked. Then he went away behind a rock and watched. He saw two women come.

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They saw the meat hanging to dry, and saw the cooked meat lying there. They sat down and ate it greedily, laughing. One of them said to the other, “Perhaps my husband went to kill the others. He has already killed a fat one.” Soon they had finished. One of them saw the head covered up in the fire. She said, “See the head. Let us eat it.” Then they took it out. “I want part of it,” said the other. Then they cut it in two. They ate it, laughing. One said, “My husband cooks well.” Then one said, “I am sleepy.” The other one said she was sleepy; so they went to sleep. The young man watched them. One began to sleep lightly. Then she awoke. She said, “Get up, my sister! My heart is bad, it hits me hard. I think I ate the flesh of my husband.” The other one said, “Yes, I also feel bad. I do not know what is the trouble. I think the same as you think.” Now they both cried. The young man had been watching them. Now he came and they saw him. He said, “What is the matter with you? Why do you not eat this meat hanging here? Your husband has gone away hunting.” They said to each other, “Perhaps he killed our husband.” Then he said to them, “Yes, I killed your husband. He is a bad man. I will kill you also.” “No, do not kill me,” they cried. He said, “No, I will certainly kill you.” “Do not kill me,” they said. Again he said, “No, I will kill you.” Then he shot them. He killed them both. He said, “That one has killed many persons, but now he is gone. He is killed. People will not do thus any more: They will be friends and will not eat each other. That one was insane.”

HOW THE WHITES BECAME RICH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Cheyenne Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 177–79. Date: 1899 Original Source: Cheyenne National Origin: Native American

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The Plains and Plateau | How the Whites Became Rich

The Cheyenne were a nomadic Northern Plains culture who based their way of life on the horse for mobility (after Europeans introduced the modern horse to the Americas), and the buffalo for subsistence. Originally from the Northeast, this Algonquian nation was pushed west where they settled in the area of the Black Hills in the modern Dakotas and Wyoming. Regarding this narrative, anthropologist A. L. Kroeber notes that it “seems probable that we have not a case of adaptation and corruption of a European original, but a native story which for some reason has attracted European additions, perhaps because exceptionally European in spirit” (177).

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here was a great medicine-man, who was powerful and did injury, but who had a good daughter. He lived near a geyser, in an earth-lodge. Several young men lived with him, and went out hunting for him. He had great quantities of dried buffalo meat hanging all around his lodge. When meat was scarce in a village nearby, he sent his young men to summon the people to him, and then he gave a feast to the various companies. Then this great man told the companies to dress, and dance before him. When the dance was almost over, he announced that he would pick out a young man to be his son-in-law. So he selected a young man, but after the marriage he sent the village away again. He was malicious and did not treat his son-in-law rightly. Every night he had a fire, and slept close by his son-in-law and daughter. When they moved, he raised his head, and said: “Don’t stir! Sleep!” When they talked, or even whispered, he made them be quiet, and ordered them to sleep. Even when they were outside, and spoke against him, he was so powerful that he knew it. The first morning he sent his son-in-law out to cut arrows. He told him that if he brought no smooth, straight sticks, he need not come back. The young man wandered through the woods, but he found only rough sticks, and he was discouraged, and tired, and cried. A person called to him, and asked him why he wept. The young man related his trouble, and the person told him to cut bulrushes of the right length. So he got as many bulrushes as he could carry, and they turned to smooth sticks. Then he went on up a mountain, and cried again. The birds heard him, and asked him why he cried. He said that he could not get

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the eagle-feathers that his father-in-law wanted for feathering the arrows. So the eagle shook himself, and feathers flew out, and he got as many as he could use. Then he returned, carrying the sticks and feathers. His father-in-law had four men who could make bows and arrows, and they began to make the arrows for him. Then he sent his son-in-law to get plums for the arrow-makers. It was nearly winter, and there was no fruit of any sort left, but he told him to get fresh plums, and bring none that were rotten or dried. He knew this was impossible. The young man took a bag, and went out, crying. Again a person asked him why he wept. The young man said it was because he was to get plums for the arrow-makers of his father-in-law. The person told him to go to a plum-bush, and that contains foreign elements, these are not the same in different tribes the tree would shake itself, and only fresh plums would fall from it. All this happened. When the great medicine-man saw his son-in-law returning well loaded, he was pleased and went to meet him. So they made the arrows, and ate the plums. Next morning the great man wanted to play at throwing arrows at a hoop with his son-in-law. They played near the geyser, and the medicine-man pushed his son-in-law into it. Only his bones came out again. Three times the great man had selected a son-in-law, and all this had happened. His daughter did not like his acts; but even when she went far off to tell her husband of his danger, the great man could hear by the wind or the earth what she said. The fourth time he got a very fine young man for son-in-law. He sent him out to drive a buffalo of good age immediately in front of his house, so that he could shoot him with his new arrows. The son-in-law went far off, crying. Seven buffalo were about him, and one asked him what he wanted. The young man told him, but they said they were power-less against this great man, and told him to go farther south. He went on and met four buffalo, who asked him what he wished. But they also were powerless, and sent him farther south. He went on and came to two buffalo. With them the same happened. As he again went on southward, he was so discouraged that he walked with his head down, and when he met a single buffalo, did not stop even when the bull asked him what he wished. Finally he turned around, and told his story. He was hopeless, for the great man could not be cut or burnt or wounded in any way. “He is like this rock,” he said, and pointed to a large black stone. Then the buffalo said: “I will try on this whether I can do anything to him.” He went off east, and charged against the stone, but did not injure it. He charged from the south, from the west, from the north—all vainly. The fifth

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The Plains and Plateau | Crossing the Plains from Kentucky

time he went toward the northeast, and this time he broke a piece out of the rock. Then he told the young man to drive him toward his father-in-law’s house. They arrived there, both seeming completely tired out; the buffalo pretended to be trying to escape, while the young man headed him off. At last, after a long chase, he drove him near his father-in-law’s door. The medicine-man came out with his new arrows, and shot at the bull. When the arrows neared the buffalo, they turned to reeds again, and did not injure him; but to the medicine-man they appeared to enter the bull, and disappear in him. The bull staggered and seemed nearly dead, and the man approached him. The bull staggered farther and farther away from the house, leading the medicine-man with him, so that he might not escape. Then he turned, charged, and tossed him. As the man fell, he tossed him again and again, so that he never touched the ground. Thus he tossed him until he was completely bruised and unable to move. Then they put him in his lodge, covered him with brush and wood, and lit it. The flames burnt higher and higher, but they only heard the medicine-man inside the fire cursing and threatening them with death when he should come out. Then suddenly there were poppings, and explosions, and beads, diamonds, and precious stones flew out of the fire. They were afraid to touch these, for fear the man might then come to life again, and put them back into the fire. But the whites to whom some of them flew kept them, and thus became richer.

CROSSING THE PLAINS FROM KENTUCKY Tradition Bearer: Annie Cason Lee Source: Wrenn, Sarah B. “Interview of Annie Cason Lee.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: Northern Plains National Origin: European American

The following set of legends offers an insight into the crossing of the Plains in the mid-nineteenth century from the perspective of a young

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woman. The following set of narratives is equally valuable for the insights it provides into the family saga.

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y parents, who crossed the plains to Oregon in 1853, were originally from Kentucky. They then had five children, of which one was my sister Miranda. She was a very beautiful girl, quite young, I think not more than fifteen. I remember hearing them tell (There were twelve of us and I was one of the younger ones—born in Oregon) of an outstanding incident of their trip, in the Snake river country. The Indians, while not yet utterly hostile, were not very friendly, with tactics that harassed and worried the emigrants considerably. Every once in a while a bunch of mounted braves would bear down upon the train and demand tribute of anything that took their fancy. It seemed my father had an especially good knife of the hunting or skinning variety. He had this knife in his hands, doing something with it, when one of the Indians, a chief, or at least the leader of his gang, reached down and snatched it out of his hands. Of course there was nothing the white men could do under such circumstances, but, as the saying now is, grin and take it. In that case, however, it was the Indian who took. Then the Indians caught a glimpse of this pretty sister of mine. They decided they wanted her too. They offered to buy her, however, and it took a lot of diplomacy and tact to get out of a most unpleasant situation, and from that time on whenever Indians came in sight, Miranda was hidden down in a little hole they arranged for her, in the bottom of the wagon. As you can imagine, such a way of hiding was far from comfortable for Miranda at times. It was when they were fording the Snake River that mother and the children had a terrifying experience, which, looking back at it from today, seems strange. They reached the fording place late in the day, and, owing to the nearby annoying Indians, were anxious to get on the other side without delay. When the wagons crossed—the women and children being floated across in wagon boxes, made water-proof for that purpose—mother and her children were left on the bank, to be carried over later. In the crossing there was trouble with the stock, and other things of an unforeseen nature happened, and before it was realized darkness had settled down—and there was mother and her little folk, with no food and no protection from the cold, and unfriendly Indians lurking in the background. To attempt to cross the river, cold and swift as it was, in the darkness, was suicide.

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The Plains and Plateau | Crossing the Plains from Kentucky

There was nothing to do but wait till morning, with what feelings may be imagined. Mother always said it was nothing but her trust in God that helped her live through that awful night, as the children and she crowded close together for warmth and comfort, in a silence that formed their only protection from the redskins. At the break of day, of course, they were rescued. It was late in the autumn when they arrived in Portland, where they camped on what is now the block just north of the civic auditorium. Father was a stone mason. He took up a donation land claim in what is now Montavilla, one of his boundary lines running east for a mile along the Base Line, and then one mile north. Father and mother were both very religious, but they were Southerners and they, or at least father had the fiery southern temper. Mother was a charter member of the Centenary Methodist church on East Stark, which was organized at our home at East Sixth and Pine streets. This recalls a story that father never liked very much being reminded of, but the family always, in after years, got quite a laugh out of it. The incident occurred sometime after the Stark Street ferry was in operation under Captain Foster, who was quite a friend of father’s. Father, with one of my older sisters was going over to the Taylor Street Methodist Church. They were descending the ferry slip, and were all ready to step aboard the ferry, when the boat pulled out suddenly, leaving them standing there—and already late for church. Father was furious. He was short and thick-set, with a bull-like neck, and when he was mad he was awful mad. He shook his fist at Captain Foster, up in the pilot-house, and, I guess, Captain Foster must have laughed, for when he returned to the east bank, father was madder than ever and didn’t hesitate to let the world know. The men exchanged ugly words, and one thing led to another, until finally they were at it, hammer and tongs. Foster tried to stick his thumb in father’s eye, in good old frontier-fight fashion, and father grabbed the thumb in his mouth and bit it nearly off. By this time there was a big bunch of spectators, and of course they interfered and separated the two men, and Father, still sputtering, finally returned home, all torn and bloody, and far from looking the respectable, Christian church attendant who had left the house an hour or so earlier. You’d have thought those two men would have been enemies ever after, but they weren’t. The next morning, when father boarded the ferry, he said “Hello, Cap,” and Captain Foster grinned and responded, “Hello, Cas,” and that was the end of it. Father never drank, but he came of a race of drinking men, and he must have liked the taste of liquor. Anyway he was afraid of it. During his life-time he always kept a diary. There were a lot of these in mother’s possession after his

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death. If I had them I could give you a priceless store of folklore and anecdotes, but mother made me promise to burn them at her death and I did. I think one reason she wanted them destroyed was father’s frequent allusion to being tempted of the devil. Over and over again this entry occurred, “Tempted of the devil today.” Once, when he was custodian of a warehouse where liquor was stored, the odor was almost too much for him, so I have been told, and he got down on his knees and prayed for strength to resist the temptation. Well, since he did resist, I think those entries, “Tempted of the devil today,” are something to be proud of, and I’ve sometimes been sorry I destroyed the diaries.

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YOUNG MEN WHO KILLED THE HORNED SERPENT AND RELEASED THE BUFFALO Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Cheyenne Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 179–81. Date: 1899 Original Source: Cheyenne National Origin: Native American

The original lifestyle of hunting and gathering cultures on the Great Plains used dogs for traction. As a result, tipis were small for transport by dogs because they could not travel far in a day. Therefore, bands had to remain close to timber and water. There was buffalo hunting on the Plains before the acquisition of the horse, but in the pre-horse culture this was a seasonal activity only. This stage of Cheyenne pre-horse culture is described in the following myth. The communal hunt required careful preparation and close supervision in order to insure that as much meat as possible would be taken. The cautions about controlling dogs


and proper actions and words in the following narrative allude to these precautions.

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ar away there was a large camp-circle. Food was very scarce, and some persons had starved. One day one of the old men went about inquiring whether the people wanted to travel to a large lake, where ducks and game abounded. They moved camp, packing their goods on dogs. Two young men were sent ahead, but they returned with the news that they had found no game whatever. The children were all crying for food, and the misery was extreme. The people selected two strong young men able to travel four days without food, and told them that they must find something for the whole tribe, and bring back good news. The young men set out and travelled steadily for two days, until they were worn out and slept from the middle of the night until the morning star rose. Then they went on northward again. Finally they came near a large river, and beyond it they saw a blue mountain. The river was slow, smooth, wide, and sandy on both sides, but beyond it rose bluffs, and close behind these the mountain. The two scouts put their clothes on their heads, and entered the river. In the centre, one of them got stuck fast. He shouted that some powerful thing under water was taking him; and he asked his friend to tell his parents not to weep too much for him. The other man crossed in safety. Then his friend called to him to come back and touch him as a farewell. So the other went back into the river, and touched him. Then he went out again, and cried all day, wandering about. A person came to the top of the bank above the river, and asked him why he cried, and whether he could do anything for him. The young man replied that a powerful animal was holding fast his friend in the river, and pointed to him. The person who had come was powerful; he wore a wolf skin, painted red, on his back; it was tied around his neck and waist, so that he looked like a wolf; and he carried a large knife. He dived into the river, and the water moved and waved, and finally an immense snake with black horns came up, and he cut its throat. The man who had been held fast was already cold and stiff in his legs, but the two others dragged him off, and floated him ashore, and laid him in the sun. The rescuer told the other young man: “Go to the mountain, to its stone door, and tell your grandmother that I have killed the animal that I have been after so long.”

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The Plains and Plateau | Young Men Who Killed the Horned Serpent and Released the Buffalo

The young man ran to the foot of the mountain, stood before a flat stone door, and called as he had been told, telling the woman to bring a rope with her. The old woman was glad that the animal had at last been killed. The young man ran back, and was told by the man to help him butcher the snake; then they would carry his friend to his house. They dragged the snake on shore by its horns, and cut it in two, and then into many smaller pieces. They made many trips to the mountain, carrying the meat. Inside, the mountain was like the interior of a tepee, with tent-poles, beds, and so on. Then the young man carried his friend to the mountain, taking him on his back, and holding his hands. The woman made a sweat-house, and he was put into it. The woman told him to try to move. The second time they poured water on the hot rocks he moved a little, the third time more, and after the fourth time he was perfectly well. Then they went into the mountain, and the man told his daughter to cook food,—corn and buffalo meat. This was the first time the young men had seen the daughter, who was very handsome. They ate all the food given them, and were well satisfied. Then the woman asked them why they had come. They told her that they were looking for game for their starving people. The woman said: “It is well, you will have something for your tribe.” Then she asked them what kin they would be to the girl; whether they would be her brothers. While they conferred, she said that they could marry her. The other young man proposed to the one that had been fast that he should marry her; and the latter agreed. They were then all very grateful to each other, and the young man married the girl. The woman told her daughter to take the two young men to the herd of buffalo, and the girl showed them large herds of buffalo, and on the other side wide fields of corn. Then the woman told them to cross the river in the same place as before, and not to look backwards, and to rest four times on their way home. So they travelled for four days. Then an old man cried through the village that they were coming. All their relatives and many others came forward; but when they saw that there were three persons, they held somewhat aloof. They entered a tent, and the new husband told an old man to cry to the people to come to shake hands with his wife and embrace her. This was done, and then the young man said that he brought good news, and that that same night his wife’s herd would come from the mountain. At night long strings of buffalo came, and the people heard them on all sides. Early in the morning they saw the buffalo, as far as they could look. It was announced that the dogs were not to disturb the game. Then the hunt commenced. The buffalo ran when pursued, but always came back. As many were

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killed as could be used, and there was abundance of meat. The chiefs gathered, and resolved that they were thankful to the girl for her kindness, and every family was to bring her a present, the best that they had; and they asked her to take the presents to her parents. So all gave to her, and she started back to her parents with her husband and his friend. When they arrived at the mountain, the man stood there, calling to his wife to come out, for their son-in-law had returned. She embraced the two young men from joy and gratitude. When they returned, the tribe was still hunting successfully, and they were again given presents to bring to the girl’s parents. When they brought presents a second time, the man was still more grateful, and asked his daughter to take a few ears of corn to the tribe. But she, thinking that they had enough with the buffalo, was silent. When her parents asked her why she did not answer, she told them the reason. So they returned, after her parents had warned her not to feel sorry for any buffalo killed in her sight. Soon after, the children drove a young calf toward the village, and the boys shot at it, and it died in front of her tent. As she came out, she said to herself that she pitied the calf. But as she said it, the herd ran back toward the mountain, and nothing could be seen but dust. A crier went about, saying that presents must again be sent to the old man in the mountain. After prayer and with blessings, the two young men and the girl started once more. After four days they arrived. At once the old man told his daughter that she ought to have been careful. But he would not let them return to the tribe. The parents of the young men and their relatives felt lonely at the long absence, and went out alone to cry. But the young men never returned.

THE STONE BOY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wissler, Clark. “Some Dakota Myths II.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 199–202. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Ogalala Lakota (Sioux) National Origin: Native American

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The Plains and Plateau | The Stone Boy

The sweat lodge used for healing and ritual purification is found throughout Native North America and is likely, according to some sources, to have been brought across the Bering Strait during migrations of the ancestors of the Native Americans into the New World. As described in the myth of the culture hero Stone Boy, heated stones (regarded as the “bones” of Mother Earth) are piled inside a covered structure and water is poured over them to produce steam. The emergence from the lodge can be symbolically interpreted as a rebirth reflecting the literal birth of Stone Boy and rebirth of three brothers and four uncles in the course of the following narrative.

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our brothers lived together in the same tipi. One day a strange woman came and stood outside. They sent the youngest brother out to see what it was that stood outside. The youngest brother went out to see, and came back with the information that a woman was standing there. Then the eldest brother said to the youngest, “Call her your sister and invite her inside.” When she was invited she hesitated. She kept her face hidden in her robe. The brothers were cooking buffalo tongues for their meal. They gave some of these to the woman, but she turned her back while eating them so as not to show her face. After a while the three older brothers went out to hunt. The youngest brother was curious to see the face of the woman. So he went to the top of a high hill and sat down. Then he left his robe on the hill and changed himself into a bird. He flew to the tipi and sat upon the poles at the top. He began to sing and to peck upon a pole, looking down at the woman. Now she had her face exposed, and he saw that it was covered with hair. Spread out before her was a robe with a row of scalps half way around it. The woman heard the bird pecking on the poles above, and looking up said, “You bad bird, go away.” Then she began to count the scalps in the row, and, talking to herself, said, “I will take the scalps of these four brothers and fill out this row with them in the order of their ages, beginning with the oldest.” Now when the little bird heard this he returned to the hill, resumed his former shape, and waited for his three brothers. When he saw them coming he went out to meet them. He related what he had seen. Then they planned to take a

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pack strap and boil it so as to make it weak and soft. When this was done they gave it to the woman and sent her out for wood. Now when the woman had gone they took up the bundle she had brought with her and in which she kept the robe with the scalps and tossed it into the fire. Then the brothers went away. The woman gathered together some wood, but every time she tried to tie it up with the pack strap the strap broke. At last she became very angry and said, “I will kill the brothers.” So she returned to the tipi, but found the brothers gone and her bundle burned up. She was very angry. She thrust her hands into the fire and pulled out the robe. Then she took up a large knife, tied an eagle feather on her hair, and started in pursuit of the brothers. As she was very swift, she soon over-took them, and, shaking the knife at them, said, “I will kill you.” All of the brothers shot arrows at her, but could not hit her. She came up, knocked down the oldest, then the second in order, and then the third. The youngest brother stood far off, with a bow and arrows in his hands. The woman ran at him, but a crow that was flying around over his head said, “Young man shoot her in the head where the feather is.” The young man did as directed, and killed the woman. He beheaded her and buried the body. Then he made a fire, heated some stones, and made a sweat house. When this was done, he dragged his three dead brothers into the sweat house, where he began to sing a song and beat with a rattle. Then he poured water upon the heated stones, and as the steam began to rise one of the brothers began to sigh. Then all of them sighed. When the youngest brother poured more water upon the stones, the three brothers came to life again. They all returned to their tipi. One day another young woman came and stood outside of the tipi as before. The youngest brother looked out and said, “My sister, come in.” This woman did not hide her face. After a time she said, “Have you any brothers?” The youngest brother told her that he had. The youngest brother cooked some buffalo tongues and gave one to the woman. She thanked him for this and. they talked pleasantly together. Now the brothers were out hunting for buffalo as before, and the youngest went out to the top of a high hill and left his robe, became a bird, and sat upon the poles on the top of the tipi. He pecked at the poles. The woman looked up and said, “Get away from here. You will spoil my brother’s poles.” Looking down the bird saw a row of moccasins laid out in front of the woman. She put her hand upon one pair saying to herself, “These are for the oldest.” Then she took up another pair, saying, “These are for the next of age.” So she went on until all were provided for.

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The Plains and Plateau | The Stone Boy

Then the bird flew back to the hill and became a boy again. When he met his brothers, he related to them what he had seen. They were all happy. They had as much buffalo meat as they could carry, and when they came into the tipi the woman said, “Oh my, you are good.” At once she began to dry and cook meat. One day the oldest brother went out to hunt, but did not return. The following day the next in order of age went out to search for him, but he never came back. Then the next went out, but he also failed to come back. Then the youngest went out to look for his brothers, and as he did not come back the woman began to cry. She went out to the top of a hill and found a nice smooth round pebble there. So she slept at that place one night and then swallowed the pebble. When she reached the tipi her abdomen had become very much distended. After a little while she gave birth to a child. It was a boy. As this boy grew up he always wanted a bow and arrows. And when he got them he was always shooting at birds and small animals. At last he became a tall man. Some of his uncles’ arrows were still in the tipi, and one day, as he took them down, his mother related the fate of his four uncles. When the young man heard this story he said to his mother, “I shall find them.” “No, you are too young,” said his mother. “No, I am old enough,” said the young man. So the young man started out to search for his uncles. After a time he came to a high hill, from the top of which he saw a little old tipi. He went up to it and looked in at the door. He saw a very old woman in-side. When the old woman saw him she said, “Come in, my grandchild; come in and break my ribs.” As the young man entered, the old woman stooped over toward the ground, and the young man kicked her with his foot until all her ribs were broken. At last, as he kicked, one of the ribs turned inward and pierced the old woman’s heart. This killed her. Looking around inside the tipi, the young man saw the skeletons of many people. These were killed when breaking the old woman’s ribs, because the last rib when broken turned outward and pierced the heart of the kicker. But this young man, who was called the Stone Boy, could not be killed in that way. Among the skeletons in the tipi were those of the four uncles of the Stone Boy. He looked over the bones, then went outside, made a sweat house, and heated some stones. Then he took the bones into the sweat house, sang some songs, and beat with a rattle as his uncle had done. When he poured water on the stones and the steam began to rise, the dead all came to life. The Stone Boy addressed his uncles and said to them, “You are my four uncles who went away and never came back. Now I shall take you home with me.”

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One day Stone Boy said to his mother, “I am going out in this direction” (pointing to the left). “No,” said she, “you must not go that way, for it is dangerous.” “Yes, but I am going that way,” said he. This was in the winter. He came to a very high hill where four girls were sliding down on the snow. “Come chase us,” said they. Stone Boy sat down behind them on the piece of raw hide they were sliding with. At the bottom of the hill they ran against a bank and Stone Boy bumped the girls so hard that they were killed. Then he went home. After a time he went out on another journey, and saw an old buffalo bull hooking at a rock. Stone Boy stood watching him for a while and then said, “What are you doing there?” The buffalo replied: “A man named Stone Boy killed four girls. These girls were four white buffalo, and now all the buffalo are hunting for Stone Boy. So I am practicing my horns on this rock, because Stone Boy is very hard to kill. When winter comes, we shall go out to hunt for Stone Boy.” “I am the one you are looking for,” said Stone Boy to the buffalo, as he shot an arrow into his heart. Then Stone Boy went home, and told his four uncles that they should gather together a lot of brush, because the buffalo were coming, and they would cover the earth. With the brush they built four fences around their tipi. Then the buffalo came. Stone Boy and his uncles shot down many of them with their arrows, but the buffalo tore down one fence after the other until just one remained. But so many buffalo had been killed by this time that the leader of the herd called the others away, and Stone Boy and his uncles were left to live in peace.

THE STORY OF NO-TONGUE Tradition Bearer: James Holding Eagle Source: Will, George F. “No-Tongue, A Mandan Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 331–37. Date: 1913 Original Source: Mandan National Origin: Native American

The Mandans were sedentary farmers who depended primarily on vegetable crops and only secondarily on buffalo and other animals. They

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The Plains and Plateau | The Story of No-Tongue

lived in villages on the northern Great Plains consisting of earth lodges that measured from forty to eighty feet in diameter. They often selected locations protected on two sides by steep river banks, and to protect the open sides they built stockades of upright posts surrounded by a ten to fifteen feet–wide ditch. Care for the members of one’s family was especially important to the Mandan, which made the cannibalism with which the following narrative begins particularly offensive to the group’s moral codes. In order to gain access to the supernatural power that was necessary for any enterprise, the Mandan, like many other Native American cultures, pursued a personal vision quest. The ordeal of NoTongue in obtaining the aid of the Sun and the Moon is only slightly more extreme than the reports of the usual quest. According to the commentary of folklorist George F. Will, this type of story is what is called by the Mandans “a ‘four-nights’ story;’ that is, one which takes for the telling four long winter evenings, when the young people gather around the old lady after the evening work is done” (331).

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t a certain village headed by a certain chief there once lived a man and his wife and their two children,—the elder a girl; the other one (some two years younger), about seven or eight years old, a boy. The woman used to leave the village and go into the woods to do her work of preparing and dressing hides. One day the man followed her to a lonely spot in the woods, and killed her. He cut off one leg, and hid the rest of the body. The leg he smeared with the hair and blood of a deer, then he built a fire and cooked it. After a while, the two children came that way, and their father gave them their mother’s flesh to eat. Then he left them and went back to the village. After a while, the children also returned to the village. There they found themselves avoided by all. Their father had given out the report that they had killed their mother and eaten her flesh. The chief soon called a council to decide what should be done with the children. After some debate, it was determined that they should be taken by the police (military society) out into the woods and lost. So the next day the police took the two children a long ways into the woods, and left them there without food. The children wandered around for several days, living on berries and such roots as they could find. Then, finally, they made their way back to the village again. Once more the children were taken far into the woods and abandoned by the police; but after much suffering, they returned once again to the village.

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Then a council was again called; and it was decided, at their father’s urgent plea, to lose the children once more, and then to leave the village, and move inland for a long stay. So once more the children were taken far into the woods and left; and that night all the inhabitants of the village packed up their belongings and went away. The boy and girl wandered around for many days, barely subsisting on berries and roots. Then, at last, hungry and tired, they got back to the village, only to find it deserted, with no food to be found. They cried about the village for some time, and at last found the trail that their people had left. This trail they followed for several days, and finally, exhausted and almost dead with hunger, came to the tepees of their people. It was evening, and they ventured to enter an old and much worn tepee on the outskirts of the camp. Within was a poor old woman. When she saw them, though she recognized who they were, she felt sorry, and asked them in and gave them food. Then she told them that she would hide them for a day or so, but that all the people were against them, and they must go away. She told them to go back to the village on the river-bank, and told them how to find her house. In the house, she said, was a cache; and she gave directions for finding it. In the cache were corn, beans, squashes, and fat, with dishes, robes, and such utensils as were needed for sewing and cooking. In some way, however, the presence of the children in the camp was suspected; and the police were sent around to search every tepee. When they came to the old woman’s house, she sat by the door. They asked her if the children were inside, and she did not answer. Then they entered, and found them. The chief and the head men debated for a long time as to what should be done with the boy and girl this time; and finally it was decided to send them back to the old village with the police, and give orders to have them killed there. So, on the following day, the police took the two and went back. But when they came to the village, they felt sorry for them and did not want to kill them. So they rolled the two children tightly in a large heavy hide, and bound it firmly round the middle with a thong. The bundle thus made they placed on the very edge of a high, steep bank, at the base of which were many stones. To the bundle they fastened another cord, which they tied to a stake, so that, if the bundle rolled off, it would hang suspended over the edge of the bank. Thus they left the children, who could do nothing to help themselves, and who were so placed that the slightest stirring might cause them to go over the edge. The boy and girl cried almost continuously, stopping only now and then to caution each other against struggling or moving. A long time they lay thus, weeping, and wondering what they had done to deserve such a fate. Then by and by

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they heard a crying from the direction of the village. At first they thought that it was people; but as it came nearer, they recognized it as the howling of a dog. It was a very old dog, whose teeth were nearly worn out; and she was very weak. The dog came up, and began to chew on the thong that fastened the children to the stake. She chewed for a long time, crying, and resting occasionally; and all the time the children were fearful, lest they be pushed over the edge. Finally the dog began to chew on the thong that bound the hide, and the children were still more fearful. But, as the dog chewed, she pulled on the bundle, and gradually drew it back from the edge of the bluff. At last she broke the thong, and the hide loosened. The little girl was able to get out, and help the little boy out. Then they started back to the village to look for the old woman’s house; and as they went along, the old dog (which they had thankfully petted and caressed) followed them. They had no trouble in finding the old woman’s house, and they found the cache just as she had described it. From it they got robes, utensils, and food enough to last them for some time; and the old dog was not forgotten. For a long time they lived thus in the old woman’s house, going out in the daytime to gather roots and berries, and returning at night. After a time, however, the weather began to grow colder; and the girl suggested that they go down into the bottom-land and build them-selves a winter house in the woods. So they went down, and built a very little house,—just big enough for themselves and the dog. They built it just like the earth lodges, with a frame of poles covered with grass and then with earth; and in it they were snug and warm. By this time, however, their food taken from the cache was gone, and they began to be very hungry. All the berries were dried up; and they could not dig roots, because the ground was frozen and the snow was coming. So they had to live entirely on the berries from the wild roses. They lived thus for some time. Every day, as they went out to gather rose-berries, they noticed how thick the rabbits were: so one day the little boy told his sister to make him a bow. The next day the sister worked at the bow, and finally succeeded in making a small one that he could handle. Then the little boy went out with his bow, and practiced a great deal. Finally, on the first day, he managed to kill one rabbit, which he took home to his sister. She dressed the rabbit, and saved the skin. After this, the boy kept on hunting with his bow, and soon became a good hunter, and would bring in a number of rabbits every day. Thus they lived along comfortably for some time, together with the old dog. One day the boy got close to a wolf on the edge of the bank, and managed to kill it. He dragged it home, and they made a robe from its hide. One day, after thinking for a long time, the girl told her brother that she thought he ought to go up on the hill and fast and pray, as the warriors do. In

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that way, they might get many good things, and good spirits would come to him. The boy did not understand what she meant at first; but she explained it to him, and he agreed to go. They had plenty of rabbits on hand, so that he did not need to hunt. So the sister took the rabbit-skins and made him warm mittens and other warm things to wear, for it was very cold. Then she told him to remember whatever appeared to him, and, if he was asked for anything, he must at once give it. So, after dressing warm, he went up on a high hill before sunrise, and stood there all day, fasting and praying. Meanwhile the sister sat at home in the house. She was sorry for her brother, all alone and cold on the hill, and he was so little. And she cried all day. When he came back at night, she asked him if he had seen anything; but he said that he had not. The next day he went again, very early, as before, and stood on the hill all day; and his sister staid at home and cried. That night, when his sister asked him if he had seen anything, he said that he had. He said that two men came to him out of the air, just as the sun was coming up. One of them asked him for something; but he did not just understand him, and, before he could answer, the man said to his companion, “He does not want to give it.” And they disappeared before he could answer. As they went away, they sang a song. The next morning the little boy prepared to go up on the hill again. His sister told him, if the men came again, to quickly give them what they asked for. So he went up on the hill, and again the men came just as the sun was rising. One man asked him for his tongue. The little boy took his knife with one hand, and tried to pull out his tongue with the other. But it always slipped from his fingers, and he could not hold it. And again the two men disappeared. As they went, they sang the same song. When the boy told his sister what had happened, she got a little stick and made it very sharp. In the morning, when the little boy was ready to go up on the hill, she gave him the stick, and told him to stick it through his tongue when the men came, and then he could pull it out and cut it off easily. So the little boy went up on the hill; and his sister cried and cried at the thought of her poor little brother having to cut off his tongue. The men came once more, just at sunrise; and one of them again asked the little boy for his tongue. He pierced his tongue with the sharp stick, and thus was able to pull it out. He cut it off and handed it to the man. Then the man said, “That is a brave man! No one can get the best of him.” And he said to the boy, “I will make you a great hunter and warrior, and you will be very powerful.” Then the two men went away as before, singing the same song.

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The little boy went back to his sister, crying, and with the blood running out of his mouth and over his clothes. His sister cried more than ever when she saw him. But she washed him up, and made him as comfortable as she could. He felt very bad for several days, but after that he was all right again. One night there came two strange persons to their lodge, and the boy asked his sister to wait on them. After eating, these men went out without saying a word to them. Then the boy began to hunt again, and one day, on the edge of a high bluff, he met two men. They spoke to him, and said that they were the two men who came to his lodge one night, and they said they had a nice meal. They told him that they had been killed under that bluff, and that they made their home there now; that they knew all the hardships that he and his sister had endured; and that they were the ones who helped them get through all this hardship. They continued to talk to the boy, saying they knew that two persons had, come to him when he was on the hill. The one that had promised to make him powerful was the Sun, they said, the other one was the Moon. The Sun would do all that he had promised; but No-Tongue must be very careful, for the Sun wanted him to die young. The Moon, they said, would help him, and keep him from being killed. Then the two men said they would continue to help No-Tongue (for such he was henceforth called) and his sister. They told him that they would get all the spirits together, and make a big buffalo corral. They said he must go out and pick out a place for the corral on the next day, and then come and show them where it was. After this, the two men went away. On the following day, No-Tongue went out and picked a place for a corral in a deep coulee, ending in a sort of pocket. Then he took the men to see the place. They told him that he and his sister must stay in the house the next day while the spirits built the corral. So the next day the boy and the girl staid in the house. Toward evening, the two men came to them, and told them that the corral was done. But they said that the scaffolds for the meat were to be built the next day, in the woods around the house, and that they must neither go out nor look out. On the following day, then, the two remained shut up in the house again. And all day they heard a great clamor, chopping and hammering, and the sound of many voices, laughing, joking, and giving directions to one another. At night they went out, and saw new meat-scaffolds in every direction as far as they could see. Then the two men came again, and told the children that the first drive would be made on the next day, and that a drive would be made on each day for four days. During this time, the children must remain inside; but each night some of the choicest meat would be placed at their door. Also there would be a white buffalo each day in the herd, and the skin would be placed each night

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at the door. The rest of the meat would be placed on the scaffolds. The two men said that all the birds were going to help them drive the buffalo into the corral. For the next four days the children remained inside, as they had been told. Each day they heard a great noise of birds and the tramping and bellowing of the trapped herds; and each night choice pieces of meat were placed at the door, where they could reach them from within. On the fifth day, the children came out of the lodge and found the scaffolds everywhere covered with meat, ready cut up, and hung up out of reach of the wolves. At their door they found the four white buffalo-skins. They talked over for a long time what they should do with these skins. Finally they decided to save three of them to give to the chief of their people. The other one they gave to the old dog who had saved their lives, and had since been so faithful to them. They fixed up a nice soft bed of it for her. Soon the two men came again to the children. They told No-Tongue that his people were starving, and that they were going to try to come to their old village on the river again. They told the children to prepare everything, and get ready to receive their people and divide the meat among them. Meanwhile the people out on the prairie broke camp, and started to move back. They were nearly starved, and had to travel very slowly on account of the old people, the women, and the children, who were hardly able to walk. The chief decided to send a party ahead to try and find some food: so nine of the young men were picked, and they went on ahead as fast as they could. The young men came to the village after a long, hard march. The two men had told the children of their coming, and the children had everything ready to receive them. The young men came to the edge of the bank, and saw the smoke from the children’s house. They wondered who it could be, living there in the woods. They feared it might be enemies; but they were so hungry that they decided to go and find out anyhow. So they started out, and soon came to the children’s house. It was now night. The children invited them in, and gave them the food prepared. The two men had given No-Tongue full instructions as to what he should do and what was going to happen all the time. On the following day, the children gave the young men what pemmican they could carry to take back to the rest of the people. They traveled fast, and got the pemmican back to their people as quick as they could. All were nearly starved, yet the pemmican magically increased as it was used up, until everyone was fully fed. After being thus refreshed, and having heard the young men’s story of the abundance of food at the children’s camp, the people pressed on rapidly.

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The Plains and Plateau | The Further Adventures of No-Tongue

The two men kept No-Tongue warned as to the movements of the people, and told him what to do when they came. So the two children, at the suggestion of the men, prepared a great pot of soup, for their father, when he should come to their house. At last the people arrived and the children received them. Then No-Tongue divided the scaffolds of meat, giving an allotted portion to each household. To the chief he also gave the three white-buffalo robes. After this, the father came to the house of the children. To him they gave the soup, and kept urging him to eat, until he had finished it all. In his half-starved condition, the effects were deadly. The father began to be sick before he left their house, and he died before he could get back to the place where the people were camped. For several days the people were busy taking care of their meat. Then they moved back to the old village on the bluff. The chief was very good to No-Tongue, and wished him to marry his daughter and take his own house, saying that he would build himself a new one. Shortly after the people moved back to the village, No-Tongue and his sister moved back also, taking with them the faithful old dog. No-Tongue caused it to be announced that he wished to find out to whom the old dog belonged. Then he led her out into the open place in the village, and all the old women assembled there. They each took their turn, calling to the dog and talking to her; but she lay drowsing, and paid no attention to any of them. Finally all had tried, but one very poor old woman. She declared she did not believe that it could be her dog; for her dog was so old that it must have died long ago. However, her friends persuaded her to try. She went out and spoke to the dog from quite a distance, and the dog paid no attention. Then she approached nearer and called, and the dog roused up. Still nearer she went, and kept calling. The dog stood up, and, as the old woman approached, ran to her with every sign of gladness and recognition. So to this old woman, No-Tongue gave the white-buffalo robe that had been allotted to the old dog.

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF NO-TONGUE Tradition Bearer: James Holding Eagle Source: Will, George F. “The Story of No-Tongue.” Journal of American Folklore 29 (1916): 402–6. Date: ca. 1916 Original Source: Mandan National Origin: Native American

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The following is a continuation of “The Story of No-Tongue” (for background, see p. 192), in which he grows to become a prominent war leader. His supernatural helpers appear again and the two strange men’s prophecies about No-Tongue’s spirit helpers come to pass. No-Tongue’s “spirit father,” the Sun, desires to continue the family tradition of cannibalism begun by No-Tongue’s human father, but the Moon prevents this treachery.

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o-Tongue rested in the village, where he came to be one of the most important men, for some years after his marriage to the daughter of the chief. Then he decided to go on a war-party. He chose only a single friend to accompany him. The two were gone from home but a short time when they found an enemy, whom they succeeded in killing, and whom No-Tongue was the first to strike. After this adventure they returned to the village, and ran around among the houses, shouting what they had done. Then No-Tongue was greatly honored by all the people with a general celebration. After a few months No-Tongue again decided to lead a war-party, and this time he took with him two friends. On this occasion the party met and killed two enemies, and returned in triumph to the village, where they dashed about among the houses, proclaiming a great victory. Again all the people rejoiced and honored NoTongue. Then he invited all the older people to his lodge, and announced to them that thenceforth his name was No-Tongue, and that all the people should call him by that name. Up to that time his name had been known only to his sister. No-Tongue now rested for some time in the village; then he announced that he would once more lead a war-party. This time he took with him a large company of warriors; and the party was again successful, killing three of the enemy and capturing their horses, which they took back with them. They arrived within sight of the village early in the morning, and all rushed triumphantly in among the lodges, proclaiming their conquest. No-Tongue, who was now one of the chiefs, was accorded even greater honor and praise than before, and the whole village held a great rejoicing. After this, No-Tongue remained quietly at home until all the talk and praise over the third exploit had died out. Then he announced a fourth war-party; and all the warriors of the village flocked to join him, for they all remembered his

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great success on former occasions. The party went forth, and met with good fortune, as before. This time they found and killed four enemies, and captured their horses, which were led back in triumph to the village. No-Tongue was once more received with great rejoicing, and was accorded the principal place in the village by all the people. Now, the Sun and the Moon had been looking down on the village all this time, and had seen the exploits of No-Tongue, and the honors that were heaped upon him. So, after the return from the fourth war-party, the Sun said to the Moon, “That son of mine must be very fat, with all the praise and honor he has received, and I will eat him.” And the Moon asked, “How will you manage to eat him?” The Sun replied, “That is easy. I have another brave son. Him I shall have come, and he shall defeat and slay this one, whom I shall then eat.” That evening, when it was dark, the Moon came to No-Tongue and informed him of the Sun’s plans. “Now,” said the Moon to No-Tongue, “your father, the Sun, wants to eat you, and he is going to have another very brave son of his from the Sioux come and kill you. When the time for the battle arrives, get another warrior to dress exactly like yourself and go forth to meet the Sioux. Then the other warrior will be killed, and the Sun will eat him, thinking that it is you.” Then he told No-Tongue to dress poorly, paint himself white, and follow the disguised warrior into the battle. After the warrior had been slain, No-Tongue was to kill the Sioux and cut his head off at once. Then he must carry the head home to his lodge, and offer it a corn-ball to eat, and a pipe to smoke. After that the head would die, and he might throw it away. Soon after, the battle took place; and all occurred as the Moon had said, and No-Tongue acted as the Moon had directed. When the battle was over, the Sun and the Moon both went down to hunt among the bodies, where they found both the disguised warrior and the dead Sioux son. The Sun took the dead Mandan to be No-Tongue, but he wondered very much how the brave Sioux had come to be killed. The Moon told the Sun to take No-Tongue and eat him, while the Moon himself took the dead Sioux home. As the Sun picked up the supposed body of No-Tongue, he was greatly surprised. “Oh, say!” he said to the Moon, “this one is too light, this cannot be No-Tongue. He would be fat and heavy.” But the Moon declared that it was No-Tongue. So each went home with his meat, which he cooked and prepared. However, after the Sun had prepared his feast, he found the meat so lean and tough that he could not eat it. Then he went to the Moon’s house to get some of his meat; but when he arrived, the Moon had already eaten it all up.

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The next morning No-Tongue dressed himself up, and took his place on the roof of his lodge before the Sun was up. So the first thing that his father, the Sun, saw, as he came out of the door of his house, was the figure of No-Tongue. “It certainly is No-Tongue,” he said to the Moon, who had not yet gone down into his own house. As the Sun said this, No-Tongue turned and faced directly toward him, and he cried out, “Yes, it is No-Tongue. I thought he was dead, but here he is, still alive.” “It is all according to your own words,” replied the Moon. “You said that nothing could hurt him, so now you see that even you yourself cannot kill him.” “Yes,” said the Sun, “but what I said then I did not mean. This time I shall surely eat him.” The Moon inquired how he intended to accomplish the destruction of NoTongue this time. “Oh!” answered the Sun, “I have another very brave son among the Cheyennes, and him I shall have come to kill No-Tongue.” That night the Moon once more visited No-Tongue in his lodge, and told him what the Sun was planning. He told No-Tongue that the Sun had decided to have his most beloved Cheyenne son come to kill him; and that this Cheyenne was very powerful, and could not ordinarily be killed, because his father, the Sun, kept him suspended from above by an invisible cord attached to the top of his head. Through this cord, life and strength continually flowed. “You must be on your guard,” the Moon said, “for he is coming tomorrow. He will be dressed exactly like you, and he will motion toward you, urging you to come and meet him. When he does this, you must advance toward him. As you advance, swing and throw your war-club so that it will go just above his head. In that way you will break the invisible cord and can easily kill him.” The battle took place on the next day; and No-Tongue was in the forefront, dressed in his very best and finest clothing. The Cheyenne appeared on the opposite side, dressed exactly like No-Tongue; and the two at once recognized each other, and advanced to the meeting. No-Tongue followed the Moon’s directions, throwing his club as he approached. The aim was true, the cord was broken, and the Cheyenne fell to the ground dead, and was left there, while the rest of the enemy were defeated and dispersed. On his return from the pursuit, No-Tongue cut off the head of the dead Cheyenne, and took it back with him to his lodge. As he was returning, his father, the Sun, came to him, praising him for his bravery, and asked for the head. No-Tongue did not yield to his pleading, however, but only told him to wait a while, and then he should have the head. So No-Tongue went on to his lodge, where he placed some corn-meal in the mouth of the head, and

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also made it smoke. Then it was really dead, and he took it out and gave it to the Sun. On receiving the head, the Sun thought that he would bring back his beloved Cheyenne son to life. So he wrapped it up with sage, and worked a long time with it, moving it about, but all in vain. “I wasted time and waited too long,” he thought. “It is no use.” Then he went to look for the body of the dead Cheyenne, but the Moon had already taken that and made a feast with it. In the morning No-Tongue again dressed in his best, and placed himself on the top of his lodge before the Sun came out of his house, so that once again he was the first thing to meet the Sun’s eyes as he opened his door. The Sun was now very angry; and once more he talked to the Moon, saying that now he would surely have No-Tongue killed. The Moon asked him how he would attempt it this time. “I shall have Big-Voice kill him, and he cannot escape,” answered the Sun. The Moon inquired who Big-Voice was, and the Sun replied that Big-Voice was the Thunder-Bird. That night once again the Moon secretly visited No-Tongue, and told him of the Sun’s latest plans. He told No-Tongue that he must get another friend to dress in his clothes and sleep in his bed that very night, while he himself must go into some obscure old woman’s lodge and conceal himself in a corner under a pile of blankets. As soon as the Moon had gone, No-Tongue found a friend to dress in his clothes and sleep in his bed, while he himself hid as the Moon had directed. He had been hidden only a little while, when the rain started, and soon after that there was a great clap of thunder. Then No-Tongue knew that the Thunder-Bird had killed his friend. After the rain was all over, No-Tongue returned to his own lodge, where he found the dead body of his friend. He prepared the body for burial in a very fine way, and dressed it in his own clothes; then he told all the people to go out to the burial-scaffold with it, and make a great mourning. Soon after, when the Sun came forth from his lodge, he looked toward the village, and saw the finely dressed body on the scaffold, and the great crowd of people about it mourning, and he thought surely that it was No-Tongue. So he came down and took the body, and once more prepared for a feast; but when it was prepared and he started to eat, he found that he had a very lean and tough morsel, and he said to himself that No-Tongue must have changed greatly.

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When the Sun came forth again on the following morning, his eyes once more lighted on the figure of No-Tongue, finely dressed, and posed upon the top of his lodge, and he saw that he had once more been tricked. Toward evening the Sun and the Moon met again, and the Sun related how No-Tongue had fooled him this time. He told the Moon that none of his helpers had succeeded in killing No-Tongue, and that he had finally decided to take the matter into his own hands and dispose of No-Tongue himself. The Moon argued with the Sun, and told him that the failures had all been the Sun’s own fault, that he had promised No-Tongue a long and prosperous life, and that now he was trying to break his own promises. But the Sun remained firm in his decision, and the Moon then asked him how he intended to overcome No-Tongue. The Sun replied that he would turn himself into a huge buffalo-bull with its sides a solid mass of bone where the ribs usually are, and that he would then go into the village and chase No-Tongue until he caught him. The Moon again sought out No-Tongue in the night, and told him that the Sun himself would try to kill him on the morrow, and he told No-Tongue what the Sun had said. Then he added that there would be only one way to kill the great bull, and that would be to shoot him in the neck near the collar-bone. After the Moon left, No-Tongue began to lay his plans for the coming combat, which he knew would be the most severe test of all. A little way outside the village there was a ditch or wash-out just narrow enough for one to jump over it in a very long jump. No-Tongue got the Kill-Deer, who makes the boggy water-holes, to come and make a soft muddy spot just beyond the far side of the ditch, at a spot that No-Tongue had selected. Early the next morning a huge buffalo-bull wandered into the village, and began running about among the houses. The men swarmed out of the lodges, and commenced to shoot arrows at the bull; but they seemed able neither to harm it nor to drive it away. After a time No-Tongue, for whom, of course, the bull had been searching, appeared, but kept at a distance from the bull. Then the bull pretended to be lame in order to draw No-Tongue closer, but he was not deceived. Gradually No-Tongue worked toward the side of the village near which was the wash-out, allowing the bull slowly to get closer to him. Then he started to run, and the bull followed at full speed. No-Tongue made directly for the ditch at the spot selected, and leaped it, evading by a sudden turn the mudhole on the farther side. The bull, in its mad pursuit, leaped the ditch also, but did not see the muddy place, and landed full in the centre of it, where he was soon mired down

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and helpless. Then No-Tongue came up close and shot the bull in the neck near the collar-bone, one arrow on each side. When the bull was dead, all the people gathered, and wanted to cut it up and eat it, and No-Tongue had difficulty in persuading them not to do so; but he told them that it was not a real bull, but a great spirit, and that it would be very dangerous for all of them if it were cut up. Then he told them all to bring large bundles of brush and dry sticks, and to heap them upon and around the dead bull. When a great pile had been built up and the bull was completely hidden, No-Tongue set fire to the brush, which made a big fire and a tremendous smoke, under cover of which the Sun escaped from the body of the bull, and returned to the sky. That evening the Sun and the Moon met as usual, and the Sun told how he had failed to kill No-Tongue, and what a narrow escape he had had. He added that he had finally decided to let No-Tongue live, and to molest him no further, but to keep his first promise. So now No-Tongue lived a contented and quiet life in the village; for by this time he had grown past the age of a warrior, and was becoming old and losing his strength. One day a long hunt was decided upon in the village, and all of the people were to go. After careful preparations, they started out, and with them went the old man No-Tongue. No-Tongue, however, was not very strong; and he traveled along slowly, so that he was soon left by himself, walking along far in the rear. After a time the trail came to a high hill; and when No-Tongue reached the foot of this hill, he sat down on a large stone nearby. Then he took out his pipe, filled it, and was ready for a smoke. As he began to puff on his pipe, two men approached, and seated themselves one on either side of him upon the large stone. No-Tongue recognized the two men as his two fathers, the Sun and the Moon, and he greeted them. Then they all three smoked in turn, and discussed the past life of No-Tongue. The Sun declared that he had fulfilled his promises, and made No-Tongue a great warrior with much honor and glory, and had brought him to a full and prosperous old age. Then the Moon told of all his part in helping No-Tongue toward success and honor, and he told how the Sun had tried to break his promises. The three sat for a long time, talking and smoking, and then the Sun and Moon prepared to go. Just as the Sun was getting up from his seat at the left side of No-Tongue, he thrust the point of his elbow against No-Tongue’s breast, penetrating the ribs and the heart, so that he fell over dead. “He is dead,” said the Sun. “It is better so, for he is now old and losing his strength. It is better not to live too long.”

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And the Sun and Moon went away.

LONG TAIL AND SPOTTED BODY RESCUE THEIR NEPHEWS WHO BECOME THE TWIN MONSTER KILLERS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Matthews, Washington. “A Folk-tale of the Hidatsa Indians.” The Folklore Record 1 (1878): 136–43. Date: 1877 Original Source: Hidatsa National Origin: Native American

Historically, the Hidatsa were a sedentary Great Plains culture living in North Dakota. They were closely allied to the Mandan, and had a lifestyle virtually identical to them (see “The Story of No-Tongue,” p. 192). The Hidatsa Twins cycle—like similar Native American Twin cycles—recounts the exploits of a pair of exceptional brothers who act as culture heroes by cleansing the environment of monsters. In some versions of the myth, they are the nephews or sons of Charred Body, reputed to be the founder of a major Hidatsa clan. Even in this version, Long Tail is the only uncle who is integral to the plot. Less than halfway through the action, both uncles disappear.

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ear the mouth of Burnt Creek, on the east bank of the Missouri, are the vestiges of some large round lodges, which stood there before the Indians came into the land. They were inhabited by several mysterious beings of great power in sorcery. In one of the lodges lived the two great demi-gods Long Tail and Spotted Body; a woman lived with them, who took care of their lodge and who was their wife and sister: and these three were at first the only beings of their kind in the world. In a neighboring lodge lived an evil monster named Big Mouth, “who had a great mouth and no head.” He

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The Plains and Plateau | Long Tail and Spotted Body Rescue their Nephews

hated the members of Long Tail’s lodge, and when he discovered that the woman was about to become a mother, he determined to attempt the destruction of her offspring. When Long Tail and Spotted Body were absent on a hunt one day, Big Mouth entered their lodge, and, addressing the woman, said he was hungry. The woman was greatly frightened, but did not wish to deny him her hospitality; so she proceeded to broil him some meat on the coals. When the meat was cooked, she offered it to him on a wooden dish. He told her that, from the way his mouth was made, he could not eat out of a dish, and the only way she could serve him the food so that he could eat it, was by lying down and placing it on her side. She did as he intimated, when he immediately devoured the meat, and in doing so tore her in pieces. She died, or seemed to die; but the children thus rudely brought into the world were immortal. One of these he seized, and throwing him into the bottom of the lodge said, “Stay there for ever among the rubbish, and let your name be Atutish. The other he took out and threw into a neighboring spring, saying to him, “Your name is Mahas; stay there for ever, where you will love the mud and learn to eat nothing but the worms and reptiles of the spring.” When Long Tail and Spotted Body came home, they were horrified to find their sister slaughtered; they mourned her duly, and then placed her body on a scaffold, as these Indians do. After the funeral they returned hungry to the lodge, and put some meat on the fire to cook. As the pleasant odor of the cooking arose, they heard an infantile voice crying and calling for food. They sought and listened, and sought again, until at length they found Atutish, whom they dragged forth into the light, and knew to be the child, whom they supposed was devoured or lost for ever. Long Tail then placed Atutish on the ground, and, holding his hand some distance above the child’s head, made a wish “that he would grow so high,” and instantly the child attained the stature, mind, and knowledge of a boy about eight years old. Then Long Tail made many inquiries concerning what had happened to him and the whereabouts of his brother; but the child could give no information of what took place during the visit of Big Mouth. In a day or two after this transaction, the elders made for the child a little stick and wheel (such as Indian children use in the game called by the Canadians of the Upper Missouri, roulette), and bade him play round in the neighborhood of the lodge, while they went out to hunt again. While he was playing near the spring, he heard a voice calling to him and saying “miakas” (my elder brother). He looked in the direction from which the voice proceeded, and saw little Mahash looking out of the spring. Wanting a

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playmate, Atutish invited him to come out and play. So Mahash came out, and the two brothers began to amuse themselves. But when Long Tail and his brother approached the lodge, on their return from the hunt, Mahash smelled them far off, rushed away like a frightened beast, and hid himself in the spring. When the elders returned, Atutish told them all that happened while they were gone. They concluded that he of the spring must be their lost child, and devised a plan to rescue him, which they communicated to Atutish. Next morning they made another and smaller roulette-stick, for the enchanted child to play with. Then they divested themselves of their odor as much as possible, and hid themselves near the spring and to the leeward of it. When all was ready, Atutish went to the edge of the spring and cried aloud, “Mahash! Do you want to come out?” Soon the latter lifted his head cautiously out of the spring, raised his upper lip, showing his long white fangs, snuffed the air keenly, looked wildly around him, and drew back again into the water. Atutish then went near where he had seen his brother rise and called again to him, but the child answered from the water that he feared to come out, as he thought he smelt the hunters. “Have no fear,” said Atutish; “the old men are gone out hunting and will not be back till night. I am here alone. Come out to the warm sunlight. We will have a good time playing, and I will give you something nice to eat.” Thus coaxed and reassured, the other ventured out, still looking mistrustfully around him. Atutish then gave him a piece of boiled buffalo tongue to eat, which the little boy said was the best thing he had ever tasted. “Very well,” said Atutish, “let us play, and I will stake the rest of this tongue against some of your frogs and slugs on the game.” Mahash agreed, and soon in the excitement of the play he forgot his fears. They played along with the roulette some time without much advantage on either side, until at length they threw their sticks so evenly that it was impossible to tell which was the furthest from the wheel. They disputed warmly, until Atutish said, “Stoop down and look close and you will see that I have made the best throw.” The other stooped over to observe; and, while his attention was thus engaged, his brother came behind the little fellow, seized him, and held him fast. Atutish then called to the concealed hunters, who ran up, threw a lariat around the struggling captive, and bound him firmly. Having secured the wild boy, their next task was to break the spell by which his tastes and habits were made so unnatural. To accomplish this, Long Tail and Spotted Body put him in the sweat-house, and there steamed him until he was almost exhausted. They then took him out and began to whip him severely. As they plied the lash they made

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wishes, that the keen scent would leave his nose, that the taste for reptiles would leave his month, that the fear of his own kind would leave his heart. As they progressed with this performance, he suddenly cried out to Atutish, “Brother, I remember myself now; I know who I am.” When he said this he was released; and his first impulse was to run to the spring. He ran there, but when he reached the edge he stopped, for he found he no longer loved the black mud and the slimy water, and he returned to the lodge. Long Tail then placed the twins side by side, and holding his extended hand, palm downwards, above their heads, a little further from the ground than on the previous occasion, wished that they would both be “so high”; when at once they grew to the size of boys about fourteen years old, and they grew in wisdom correspondingly. Then Long Tail made bows and hunting-arrows for the boys, and a pair of medicine-arrows for their protection and for use on extraordinary occasions, and he addressed them saying, “You are now big enough to protect yourselves. Go out on the prairie and hunt, and we will see which one of you will be the best hunter.” After that they went out every day and. became expert hunters. Once, as they were looking for game among the hills, they came to a scaffold on which a corpse was laid. “There,” said Atutish, “is the body of our mother. She was murdered, no one knows how.” “Let us try the strength of our medicine arrows upon her,” said Mahash, “perhaps we could bring her back to life.” So saying he stepped close to the scaffold and shot straight up. As the arrow turned to fall, he cried out, “Take care, mother, or you will get hurt,” and, as it descended near the body, the scaffold shook and a low groan was heard. Then Atutish stepped nearly under the scaffold and shot up in the air. As his arrow turned to fall he cried out, “Mother! Mother! Jump quick or the arrow will strike you.” At once she arose, jumped down from the scaffold, and, recognizing her children, embraced them. The boys then asked her who was the author of their calamities, and how it all happened. She pointed to the lodge of Big Mouth, and related all the circumstances of her death. Upon hearing this, the boys swore they would be revenged. Their mother endeavored to dissuade them, describing Big Mouth to them, assuring them that his medicine was potent, and that he certainly would destroy them if they went near him. They paid no attention to her remonstrances, but proceeded to plot the destruction of the monster. Now this Big Month had a very easy way of making a living. He neither trapped nor hunted, nor took pains to cook his food. He simply lay on his back, and when a herd of deer came within sight of his lodge, or a flock of birds flew

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overhead, no matter how far distant, he turned towards them, opened his great mouth, and drew in a big breath, when instantly they fell into his mouth and were swallowed. In a little while the boys had their plans arranged. They built a large fire, and heated some small boulders in it. Then they carried the stones to the top of his lodge, put them near the smoke-hole, and began to imitate a flock of blackbirds. “Go away, little birds,” said Big Mouth, “you are not fit to eat, and I am not hungry, but go away and let me sleep, or I will swallow you.” “We are not afraid of you,” said the boys, and they began to chirp again. At length Big Mouth got angry. He turned up his mouth, opened it wide, and, just as he began to draw his breath to suck them in, the boys stepped aside, and hurled the stones down into the lodge. “Oh, what sharp claws those birds have! They are tearing my throat!” exclaimed the monster, as he swallowed the red-hot rocks. The next moment he roared with pain and rushed for his water jars, drinking immense draughts; but the steam made by the water on the rocks swelled him up, and the more he drank the worse he swelled, until he burst and died. The boys brought the body home, and, after they bad danced sufficiently around it, their mother praised them for what they had done; but she said, “You must not be too venturesome. All these lodges around are inhabited by beings whose power in sorcery is great. You cannot always do as well as you have done this time. You should keep away from the rest of them. There is an old woman in particular whom you must avoid. She is as powerful as Big Mouth; but you cannot kill her in the same way as you killed him, for she catches her food, not in her mouth, but in a basket. Whenever she sees anything that she wants to eat she turns her basket towards it, and it drops in dead. If she sees a flock of wild geese among the clouds, no matter how high they fly, she can bring them down.” When the boys heard this, they said nothing in reply to their mother, but set off secretly to compass the death of the witch. They went to the lodge of the latter, and standing near the door, cried, “Grand-mother, we have come to see you.” “Go away, children, and don’t annoy me,” she replied. “Grandmother, you are very nice and good, and we like you. Won’t you let us in?” continued the boys. “Oh, no,” said she, “I don’t want to hurt you; but be gone, or I will kill you.” Despite this threat, they remained, and again spoke to her, saying, “Grandmother, we have heard that you are very strong medicine, and that you have a wonderful basket that can kill anything. We can scarcely believe this. Won’t you lend us the basket a little while until we see if we can catch some birds

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with it?” She refused the basket at first, but, after much coaxing and flattering, she handed it to them. No sooner were they in possession of the basket, than they turned it upon the witch herself, and she dropped into it dead. After this exploit the mother again praised the boys, but again warned them to beware of the evil genii of the place that she described. One of these was a man with a pair of wonderful moccasins, with which be had only to walk round anything he wanted to kill. Another was a man with a magic knife, with which he could either cut or kill anything that he threw the knife at. These individuals they destroyed in the same manner that they overcame the basket-woman, by coaxing them to lend their magic property, and then slaying the owners with their own weapons. On each occasion the boys retained the charmed articles for their future use. When all this was done, the old mother called her boys and told them there was but one more dangerous being that they had to guard themselves against. She said, “He lives in the sky where you cannot get at him, but he can hurt you, for his arm is so long that it reaches from the heavens to the earth. His name is Long Arm.” “Very well,” said the boys, “we will beware of him.” One morning, soon after receiving this advice, they went out very early to hunt, but could find nothing to kill. They walked and ran many miles, until late in the day, when they became very tired and lay down to sleep on the prairie. As was their custom, they stuck their medicine arrows in the ground, close beside them. The arrows possessed such a charm, that if any danger threatened the boys, they would fall to waken them. While the brothers lay asleep, Long Arm looked down from the clouds, and, beholding them, stretched his great arm down towards them. As the arm descended, the arrows fell hard upon the boys, but the latter were so tired and sleepy that they did not waken, and Long Arm grasped Atutish and bore him to the sky. In a little while Mahash woke up and discovered, to his horror, that the warning arrows had fallen, and that his brother was gone. He looked round carefully on the prairie for the departing tracks of his brother, or for the tracks of the man or the beast that had captured him, but in vain. When at his wits’ end, and almost in despair, he chanced to glance towards the sky, and there, on the face of a high white summer cloud, he saw the doubled track of Long Arm, where he came near the earth and went back. Mahash laid down his bow and arrow and other accoutrements, retaining only his medicine knife, which he concealed in his shirt. He next stuck his magic arrows into the ground and got on top of them, and then he crouched low, strained every muscle, and sprang upwards with all his might. He jumped high enough to catch

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hold of the ragged edge of the cloud. From that time he scrambled higher, until he at last got on Long Arm’s trail, which he followed. For fear of recognition he wished himself smaller, and, becoming a little toddling child, moved on till he came to a great crowd, moving in one direction, with much talk and excitement. He ran up to an old woman who walked a little apart, and asked her what was the matter. She informed him that they had just captured one of the children of the new race which was growing on the earth, a boy who had destroyed many favored genii, and that they were about to kill and burn him. “Grandmother,” said Mahash, “I would like to see this, but I am too little to walk there. Will you carry me?” She took him on her back and brought him to the place where the crowd had gathered. There he saw his brother tied to a stake, and a number of people dancing round him. He thought if he could only reach the post unobserved, and touch the cords with his medicine-knife, he could release his brother, but for some time he was puzzled how to do it. At length he slid down from the old woman’s back, and wished that for a little time he might turn to an ant. He became one, and, as such, crawled through the feet of the crowd and up to the post, where he cut the cords that bound Atutish. When the latter was free, Mahash resumed his proper shape, and they both ran as hard as they could for the edge of the clouds. The crowd pursued them; but, as each foremost runner approached, Mahash threw his knife and disabled him. At last Long Arm started after the brothers, running very fast. As he came within his arm’s length of them, he reached out to grasp one of them. As he did so, Mahash again threw his knife, and severed the great arm from the shoulder. The boys got back safely to the earth. They, having ridded themselves of all their enemies, lived in peace, and in time they moved away from that locality.

THE TWO BOYS WHO SLEW THE MONSTERS AND BECAME STARS Author: Ahahe Source: Dorsey, George A. “The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars.” Journal of American Folklore 17 (1904): 153–60. Date: 1904 Original Source: Wichita

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The Wichita, as discussed in the introduction to “Origin of the Universe” (p. 135), were sedentary farmers and hunters living on the southern areas of the Great Plains and plateau region. The village divided by a street and governed by two different chiefs is a common motif in Wichita myth. The narrative falls into the “twin hero” category, and—as is the case in many similar tales—the more extraordinary and marginal of the two brothers has gifts that allow the boys to accomplish their marvelous deeds of cleansing the world by killing the monsters that reside in each of the cardinal directions (that is, the entire universe is dangerous and in need of taming). The motif of the protagonist’s transformation into a star is common not only in Native American myth, but also worldwide, as in the Greek Heracles cycle, for example.

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here was once a village where there were two chiefs. The village was divided by a street, so that each chief had his part of the village. Each chief had a child. The child of the chief living in the west village was a boy; the child of the chief living in the east village was a girl. The boy and the girl remained single and were not acquainted with each other. In these times, children of prominent families were shown the same respect as was shown to their parents, and they were protected from danger. The chief’s son had a sort of scaffold fixed up for his bed, which was so high that he had to use a ladder to get upon it. When he came down from the bed the ladder was taken away. Once upon a time the young man set out to visit the young woman, to find out what sort of a looking woman she was. He started in the night. At the very same time, the girl set out to visit the young man, to see what sort of looking man he was. They both came into the street-like place, and when they saw one another the girl asked the young man where he was going. The young man replied that he was going to see the chief’s daughter, and he asked her where she was going. She replied that she was going to see the chief’s son, The young man said that he was the chief’s son, and the girl said that she was the chief’s daughter. They were undecided whether to go to the young man’s home or to the girl’s home. They finally decided to go to the young man’s home.

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The next morning, the young man’s people wondered why he was not up as early as usual. It was the custom of all the family to rise early and sit up late, for the people of the village came around to the chief’s place at all times. They generally woke the young man by tapping on the ladder, so they tapped on the ladder to have him come down. When they could not arouse the young man they sent the old mother up to wake him. When she got there she found her son sleeping with another person. She came down and told the others about it. She was sent back to ask them to come down from the bed and have breakfast. When they came down it was found that the son’s companion was the other chief’s daughter. Meanwhile, the other chief wondered why his daughter did not rise as early as usual. It was her custom to rise early and do work inside the lodge. In the village where the girl was from, there lived the Coyote. Since the girl was not to be found, the chief called the men and sent them out to find her. The Coyote was there when the father sent the men in search of his daughter. The Coyote went all through his own side of the village, and then went to the side of the other chief, where he found the girl living with the chief’s son. He went back immediately to the girl’s father and told where he had found her. After she was found, the chief was angry and sent word that she was never to come back to her home; and the young man’s father did not like the way his son had acted. The time came when the young man decided to leave the village. He told his wife to get what she needed to take along for the journey. They started at midnight, and went towards the south. They went a long way and then stopped for rest and fell asleep. On the next day they continued their journey in search of a new home. They traveled for three days, then they found a good place where there was timber and water, and there they made their home. The man went out daily to hunt, so that they might have all the meat they wanted. The woman fixed up a home, building a grass-lodge, and there they resided for a long while. One time, when the man was about to go out hunting, he cut a stick and put some meat on it and set it by the fire to cook. He told his wife that the meat was for someone who would come to visit the place; and that she must not look at him; that when she should hear him talking she should get up in bed and cover her head with a robe. The man left to go hunting that day, and the woman stayed and remembered what she had been told. After her husband had gone the woman heard someone talking, saying that he was coming to get something to eat. When she heard him she went to her bed and covered her head. The visitor came in, took down the meat that the woman’s husband had placed by the fire, and ate it.

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Before leaving, he spoke and said, “I have eaten the meat and will go back home.” When the visitor had gone, the woman got up again, for she had her morning work to do. It was late in the evening when her husband returned from his hunting trip. Every time he went hunting he put the meat up before leaving, and when the visitor came the wife would get in her bed so as not to see who he was. Every time he came in and ate she would listen, and it would sound like two persons eating together. One morning, after her husband had left, the woman made a hole in her robe and took a piece of straw that had a hole in it. When the visitor came she got in her bed and put the robe over her, with the hole over her eye, having the straw in her hand. As soon as the person came in he commenced to eat. After he had finished eating and was starting out, the woman quickly placed the straw in the hole in the robe, looked through it and saw the person. She saw that he had two faces, one face on the front and one on the back side of his head. When she looked at him he turned back, telling the woman that she had disobeyed her husband’s orders and that she would be killed. Thereupon the Double-Faced-Man (Witschatska) took hold of the woman and cut her open. She was pregnant, so that when the Double-Faced-Man cut her open, he took out a young child, which he wrapped with some pieces of a robe and put on the back of some timber in the grass-lodge, and covered the woman again with her robe. Then he took the afterbirth and threw it into the water. When the husband returned, he found that his wife was dead. He was there alone and so he spoke out, saying: “Now you have done wrong, disobeying my orders. I told you never to run any risk, but you made up your mind to look and see what sort of a person that was who came here, and he has killed you.” The man took his wife’s body to the south, laid her on the ground, and covered her with buffalo robes. When he came back he heard a baby crying, and he looked around inside of the lodge, then outside, but he could not find the child. He finally heard the baby crying again and the sound came from behind one of the lodge poles. He looked there and found the child. He cooked some rare meat and had the child suck the juice. In this way the man nourished his child. He stayed with it most of the time, and when hunting, he took the child on his back. Whenever he killed any game he would not hunt any more until all of his meat was gone. This child was a boy, and it was not very long before he began to walk, though his father would still take him on his back when he went hunting. When the child was old enough the father made him a bow and arrows, and left him at home when he went hunting.

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One day when the boy had been left he heard someone saying, “My brother, come out and let us have an arrow game.” When he turned around he saw a boy about his own age standing at the entrance of the grass-lodge. The little boy ran out to see his little visitor, who told him that he was his brother. They fixed up a place and had a game of arrows, which is often played to this day. When Double-Faced-Man had killed the woman, he had taken a stick that she had used for a poker and he thrust it into the afterbirth and threw it in the water. This stick was still fastened in the visiting boy. The boy wondered what this stick was there for. They commenced to play. The visiting boy promised not to tell their father about winning the arrows, and the other boy promised not to tell that he had had company. When the visiting boy left he went towards the river and jumped into the water. When the father came home he asked his boy what had become of his arrows. The boy replied that he had lost all his arrows shooting at birds. His father tried to get him to go where he had been shooting at birds, to see if he could not find the arrows, but the boy said that he could not find the arrows. Next day, the father made other arrows for the boy and then went out hunting again. As soon as the father left, the visiting boy came, calling his brother to come and have another game. They played all day, until the visiting boy won all the arrows, then he left the place, going toward the river. When the man came back from his hunting trip he found the boy with no arrows, and he asked him what had become of them. The boy said that he had lost his arrows by shooting birds. His father asked him to go out and look around for the arrows, but the boy refused, and said that the arrows could not be found. Again the father made more arrows for his boy. After a long time the boy told his father of his brother’s visits. The father undertook to capture the visiting boy one day, and so he postponed his hunting trip until another time. About the time the boy was accustomed to make his appearance, the father hid himself and turned himself into a piece of stick that they used for a poker. The father instructed his son to invite his brother to come in and have something to eat before they should play. As soon as the visiting boy came and called his brother, his brother invited him to come in, but he refused, because he was afraid that the old man might be inside. He looked all around, and when he saw the poker he knew at once that it was the old man, and he went off. The father stayed still all that day, intending to capture the boy. On the next day he again postponed and instructed his boy as before about capturing the visiting boy. About the time for the boy to make his appearance the father hid himself behind the side of the entrance and turned into a piece of straw. When the visiting boy arrived, he called, and his brother invited him in

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again. He looked around in the grass-lodge, but not seeing anything this time, he entered and ate with his brother. The father had told his boy that when his brother came he should get him to look into his hair for lice; then the boy was to look into the visiting boy’s hair, and while he was looking he was to tie his hair so that the father could get a good hold on it. Then he was to call his father. After eating, they both went out to begin their game. They played until the visiting boy won all his brother’s arrows. When they stopped, the boy asked his brother if they might not look into each other’s hair for lice. The visiting boy agreed and looked into his brother’s hair first, then allowed his brother to look into his hair. While the boy was looking into his hair the visiting boy would ask him what he was doing; and he would say that he was having a hard time to part his hair. When he got a good hold of the visiting boy’s hair he called his father. The visiting boy dragged him a good ways before their father reached them. When the old man got hold, the boy was so strong that he dragged both the father and brother toward the river, but the father begged him to stop. They finally released the visiting boy and he jumped in the water and came out again with his arms full of arrows. They started back toward their home. This boy was named Afterbirth-Boy. After that, Afterbirth-Boy began to dwell with his father and brother. When their father would go out hunting the boys would go out and shoot birds. When the father was home he forbid his boys to go to four certain places: one on the north, where there lived a woman; on the east, where there was the Thunderbird that had a nest up in a high tree; on the south, where there lived the Double-Faced-Man. The father made his boys a hoop and commanded them not to roll it toward the west. It was a long time before the boys felt inclined to lengthen their journeys; but after a time, during their father’s absence, Afterbirth-Boy asked his brother to go with him to visit the place at the north, where they were forbidden to go. The brother agreed, and they at once started for the place. On their way, they shot a good many birds, which they carried along with them. When they arrived they saw smoke. The woman who lived there was glad to see the little boys and asked them to her place. They gave her their birds, and went in. The old woman was pleased to get the birds, and said that she always liked to eat birds; then she asked the boys to go to the creek and bring her a pot full of water. She told the boys that she must put the birds in the water and boil them before she could eat them, so the boys went to the creek and brought the pot full of water.

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When they returned with the pot of water the woman hung it over the fire, snatched the boys and threw them in, instead of the birds. The water began to boil and Afterbirth-Boy got on the side where the water was bubbling. He told his brother to make a quick leap, while he did the same. They at once made a quick jump and poured the boiling water upon the old woman and scalded her to death. When they had done this they started back home. They reached home before their father. On their father’s arrival they told him that they had visited the place he had warned them against, and what dangers they had met while visiting the woman, who was the Little-Spider-Woman. The next day they started to visit the Thunderbird. When they came to the place they saw a high tree where was the nest of the Thunderbird. AfterbirthBoy spoke to his brother, saying, “Well, brother, take my arrows and I will climb the tree and see what sort of looking young ones these Thunderbirds have.” He began to climb the tree and all at once he heard thundering and saw a streak of lightning, which struck him and took off his left leg. Afterbirth-Boy told his brother to take care of his leg while he kept on climbing. When he began to climb higher the bird came again. The thundering began and the streak of lightning came down and took off his left arm. Still he kept on, for he was anxious to get to the nest. He was near the nest when his right leg was taken off, so that he had just one arm left when he reached the nest. Now the Thunderbirds did not bother him any more. He picked up one of the young ones and asked whose child he was. The young one replied that he was the child of the Weather-Followed-by-Hard-Winds, and that sometimes he appeared in thunder and lightning. When the boy heard this he threw the bird down, saying that he was not the right kind of a child, and he asked his brother to destroy him. Afterbirth-Boy took another bird and asked him the same question. The young one replied that he was the child of Clear-Weather-with Sun-Rising-Slowly. He put the bird back in the nest, telling him that he was a pretty good child. He took up another, asking whose child he was, and the bird said that he was the child of Cold-Weather-Following-Wind-and-Snow. Afterbirth-Boy dropped him down and said that he was the child of a bad being, and he ordered his brother to put the bird to death. He then picked up the last one and asked whose child he was. The young one answered that he was the child of Foggy-Day-Followed-by-Small-Showers. This child Afterbirth-Boy put back into the nest, telling him that he was the right kind of a child. He then started to climb down with his one arm. When he reached the ground his brother put his right leg on him, and he jumped around

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to see if it was on all right. His brother then put his left arm on him, and he swung it around to see if it was all right. Then the brother put on the left leg, and he felt just as good as he did when he first began to climb the tree. The two boys returned home before their father came back from the chase. When their father came back, Afterbirth-Boy began to tell what they had done while visiting the Thunderbirds and how his limbs were taken off, and the boys laughed to think how Afterbirth-Boy looked with one arm and both legs gone. The father began to think that his boy must have great powers, and he did not say much more to the boys about not going to dangerous places. Some time after, the boys went out again and came to the place where their mother was put after her death. They saw a stone in the shape of a human being, and they both lay on the stone. When they started to get up they found that they were stuck to it, and they both made an effort and got up with the stone. They took it home for their father to use for sharpening his stone knife. When they reached home the old man told them to take the stone back where they had found it. He told them that that was their mother, for she had turned into stone after her death. They took the stone back where they had found it. Some time after, Afterbirth-Boy and his brother started out to the forbidden place where Double-Faced-Man lived who had killed their mother. These creatures were living in a cave. When the boys arrived at the cave they both went in and the Double-Faced-Man’s children came forward and scratched the boys. If there was any blood on their fingers they would put them in their mouths. Afterbirth-Boy took the string of his bow and slew the young ones. He caught the old Double-Faced-Man and tied his bow-string around his neck so that he could take him home to his father to have in the place of a dog. When they returned home the old man walked out, and seeing the old Double-Faced-Man, told his boys to take him off and kill him, and they obeyed. Every day they played, the same as they had always done before, going out shooting birds and playing with their hoop. Afterbirth-Boy said to his brother, “Let us roll the hoop toward the west and see what will happen.” They rolled it toward the west, and it began going faster and faster. The boys kept running after it until they were going so fast that they could not stop. They kept going faster, until they ran into the water where the hoop rolled. When they went into the water they fell in the mouth of a water-monster called, “Kidiarkat,” and he swallowed them. It appeared to them as though they were in a tipi, for the ribs of the monster reminded them of tipi poles. They wondered how they could get out. Afterbirth-Boy took his bow-string with his right hand, drew it through his left hand to stretch it, then swung it round and round. When he first swung it, the

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monster moved. He swung the string the second time, and the monster began to move more. He swung it the third time, and the monster began to move still more. At this time Afterbirth-Boy told his brother that their father was getting uneasy about them and that they must get out of the place at once, for they had been away from home a long time. Again he swung his bow-string, and the monster jumped so high that he fell on the dry land. He opened his mouth and the boys quickly stepped out and started for home. When the boys arrived at the lodge they found no one. Their father had gone off somewhere, but they could not find out where he had gone. Afterbirth-Boy looked all around for his trail, but could find no trace of him. At last he grew weary and decided to wait until night to look for their father. When darkness came, Afterbirth-Boy again looked around to see where his father had gone. He finally found his trail and he followed it with his eye until he found the place where his father had stopped. He called his brother and told him to bring his arrows and to shoot up right straight overhead. The boy brought his arrows and shot one up into the sky. Then he waited for a while and finally saw a drop of blood come down. It was the blood of their father. When the boys did not return, he gave up all hope of ever seeing them again, and so he went up into the sky and became a star. They knew that this blood belonged to their father, and in this way they found out where he had gone. They at once shot up two arrows and then caught hold of them and went up in the sky with the arrows. Now the two brothers stand by their father in the sky.

BILL FOSCETT Tradition Bearer: Robert Lindsey Source: Phipps, Woody. “Interview of Robert Lindsey.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Oklahoma National Origin: European American

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The Plains and Plateau | Bill Foscett

The Dalton Gang mentioned in the following personal experience narrative consisted of the Dalton Brothers, Bob, Grat, Emmet—all of whom served as lawmen before turning to crime—Bill Doolin, William St. Power, Charlie Pierce, George Newcomb, Charlie Bryant, and Richard Broadwell. This notorious crew committed bank and train robberies throughout the Kansas and Oklahoma areas in the early 1890s. Members of the Dalton Gang later formed the nucleus of the equally notorious Wild Bunch.

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n a pool hall, you have time to sit around and talk about things. In fact, that’s almost all you do when you have one. One of my customers was a W. S. “Bill” Foscett. Old Bill didn’t talk much to anybody, and it took me several years to break him down to talking. I knew that he’d been somebody because you could tell it in his eyes, and his bearing. He’d look at you, and you’d feel like he knew your very thoughts. That caused me to sort of cater to him, and try to win his confidence without ever letting him know I was a-doing it. One day, I was talking about the Dalton ranches in Palo Pinto county, and a-wondering if they had any connections with the Dalton outlaws. I was talking about Bob Dalton, and asked Bill if he ever heard of him. He said, “Yes, I knew him well. Truth of it is, I outlawed with him a little.” Being a pretty fair hand a poker playing, I didn’t let my face tell what I felt, and I just let him talk on. He said, “I rode 75 miles to identify Bob after a couple of little old marshals at Chickasha shot him. The way it happened, Bob and a couple other fellows was a-living out in a cabin out of town. They had a woman with ’em, and since they wasn’t atrying to raise nothing, the marshal decided they was bootlegging and went out to see. “Now, they was a ditch that run for about 300 yards away from the cabin, and when the marshalls showed, Bob run down that to get away. The marshals saw him, and a lucky shot kilt him. They went on to the cabin and the woman come out a-running and hollering ‘Now you’ve done it! You’ve kilt my hired man!’ You know, them marshals like to a-fought right there, the other two men had got away but they found three or four of those seamless wheat sacks, full of money. Then they like to a-been another fight over who shot Bob. Each one claiming he shot Bob so he could collect the reward. That was when I was a Territory Marshall out of Fort Smith, Arkansas.”

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Another story he told me was about the first time he went into the Territory as a marshal. I recall that he said it was on one of the first trains to go into the Territory, too. He said, “I was in one of the coaches, and asleep, when all of a sudden, I heard a lot of shots, and felt the train stopping. I got up and ran to the door, which a few of the others did, the most of them trying to hide. Since the shots were spanging against the side of the coaches, I had room a-plenty to see outside. I saw that a band of six men were going to rob the train. You know, I really don’t know what fear really is, and never have. I’ve just felt like all along that when my ticket was punched, I could be doing anything and I’d go anyway, so I jumped down on the ground, filled my fists, and started to shooting away. “The gunmen were on the ground and in plain sight, so I got two of them before the others run. For three–four minutes there, the shots were hitting all around me. The other four men run to their hosses on the other side of the hill, mounted, and rode away with their buddy’s hosses. You see what partners they were. Suppose now that one of those that were shot down happened to get a chance to get away. He couldn’t get away because his hoss was gone, and his partner had took it. “They’d draped a coupla sacks on the ground, and one of ’em had a patch on it that was off of a shirt. I cut that patch out, thinking that it might come in handy someday. About a month later, I was in a cafe, eating breakfast, when four men rode up in a cloud of dust, their hosses all lathered. Well, that was a give away that they were in a hurry to get somewhere. I watched ’em as they eat, and noticed that one of ’em had a shirt just like the patch I was carrying around. I went over to him, matched the patch with a hole in one of ’em’s shirt, throwed down on the whole gang, and marched ’em right out to their hosses where I made ’em ride in fron’ of me to the sheriff’s office. “Another experience I had was once when I was visiting a friend of mine, that was a sheriff in a Kansas town. I found him in a pool room, and as I stood there talking to him, I watched the operator, and thought he acted suspicious. I said to the sheriff, ‘Let’s arrest him.’ “He said, ‘No, that’s a good man.’ “We talked it over, and he gave in, arresting the man. On the way to the jail, we passed a drug store and the man asked to go in and get some smoking. Well, since we really didn’t have nothing on him, the sheriff let him go but we followed him on in. He went to the end of the counter, and on around behind it. I saw him bend over like he was picking up something, and I jerked my six out. He come out with a box, and had his hand on a ’45. I let him get the gun out of the box, then shot his wrist almost in two.

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The Plains and Plateau | Bill Foscett

“He held his wrist and hollered, ‘I’d have got both of you if it hadn’t of been for that red headed gun slinger there.’ Well, you now, they sent me an invitation to his hanging out in Arizona two months later. He’d been wanted out there for years. “There was one thing that happened to me though, where I really should have lost my life. If it hadn’t been for my early training on my dad’s ranch in Kansas when Kansas was the wildest place in the world, with a good many desperadoes running around, I’d never have been able to stand up to this experience. My dad had a saying, ‘That a man can only die once, and he might’s well die a man.’ That’s the way I felt. “This time come about when I decide to visit a friend of mine, that was sheriff in a town after Oklahoma was a State. I’ll send you a clipping from the Kansas City Star that tells a heap of it, but I’ll tell you right now how I recall it. You know, in fast gun action, with your life in danger every minute, a lot goes on that you just nacherly don’t recall. “Well, when I reached the outskirts of this little town, I heard a lot of shooting start. I whipped my hoss up, and saw a gang of men split up, and go in three bunches to’ards some buildings. As I rode in, I saw two or three men on the ground, and I figured it was a holdup. Since I didn’t see my friend anywhere, I figured that they’d already got him. I filled both fist with six shooters, and rode to the center of the town, where I could shoot at all three gangs at the same time when they showed. “What they was really doing, was robbing three places. Two banks, and a big store. Well, I stood in the middle of the street, and every time one of ’em showed, I cut down on him. I was so bust that I never noticed what I was doing, but I did feel queer that I hadn’t felt a shot yet. They were shooting at me from both ends of the street and the store in the middle. After about 15 minutes, which seemed like a month, the shooting stopped and the rest of the men came out with their hands in the air. When the count was taken, I’d accounted for thirteen of ’em. Thirteen of ’em dead, and me without a scratch. I tell you Bob, I’ve really got no claim on my life because the law of averages ought to have taken it then.” Well, old Bill sent me a clipping with a request to send it back when I was done with it. If you went to prove this, I’d suggest you get in touch with the Kansas City Star in Kansas City. They’re bound to have this and you can get the paper’s account of it.

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MATTHEW “BONES” HOOKS, COWBOY Tradition Bearer: Matthew (“Bones”) Hooks Source: “Interview of Bones Hooks.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1940 Original Source: Oklahoma—Texas Panhandle National Origin: African American

Despite their contributions, few contemporary Americans—outside the occasional history buff—know the particulars about the lives of African–American cowboys. Probably two of the most prominent names that made it into the written record include Nate “Deadwood Dick” Lovewinner of an impromptu Fourth of July celebration in Deadwood City, Dakota Territory, in 1876 that captured the popular imagination of the time. Another is William “Bill” Pickett (1870–1932), inventor of the rodeo sport of bulldogging. The many other AfricanAmerican cowboys contended not only with the grueling labor and deprivation of their occupations, but also with racism, as Bones Hooks’s personal experience narratives recount.

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atthew (Bones) Hooks, who for years worked on Panhandle ranches as a horse wrangler and “bronc-buster,” knows many tales of cowboy life in the early days, but he refuses to tell the most interesting ones “because it would rattle skeletons in the closets of prominent families”—oldtimers who are still living or their descendants. Bones, without calling embarrassing names, recites a case in point. Called as a witness before a grand jury recently, he recognized in the judge a pioneer cattleman. “Bones, do you know anyone who has stolen cattle”—the judge caught the glint of memory in the piercing black eyes and hastily added—“now?” And Bones, whose lips had been forming the question, “What time are you talking about, Judge?” could honestly answer, “No.”

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The Plains and Plateau | Matthew “Bones” Hooks, Cowboy

Both of them were recalling a certain day in the past when the judge, then a young man just starting out in the cattle business, and a young Negro cowboy drove a fine young male calf from the pastures of the Capitol Syndicate (XIT Ranch) to the white man’s ranch. The embryo cattleman could not afford to buy a good bull—Bones said “surly”; he would not use the word “bull” before a lady interviewer—which he needed for breeding purposes. He went to the Negro cowboy, who was working at the XIT at the time, and asked him if he knew where he could get one. Bones looked over the range and, seeing no one near, selected a fine-looking calf, which they drove toward the home ranch of the judge-to-be. Coming upon a still better animal, Bones exchanged the tired calf for the other, and proceeded on his way. The young rancher tied up the calf until it was weaned to keep it from getting back with the mother cow. “It took about four days to wean a calf,” said Bones. “After that time he would go down to the water hole and drink and then mosey out on the range and eating grass and forget all about his mamma.” Bones, who was very young when he was working on Panhandle ranches in the days before law and order came, has good reason to remember the Vigilantes who took the place of the “law” in those days. The Negro cowboy, since the death of “Skillety Bill” Johnson of Canadian, is the last person to know the password of the Vigilantes. When Skillety Bill died, persons interested in the history of the Panhandle went through his personal effects. Among his papers they found the notation that Bones was the only person left knowing the password. These same persons went to Bones and asked for the password, but he refused. “I am going to keep my word until I die,” he said, “and then my papers will be left to the museum. The password will be among them.” According to Bones, Skillety Bill got his name because he worked on the Frying Pan Ranch. Cowboys from the Panhandle ranches in the early days went to Mobeetie (early Sweetwater), adjacent to Fort Elliott, to “celebrate.” Negro women in the families of colored troops stationed at the army post would see Bill Johnson coming and say “There comes that Skillety (their version of Frying Pan) Bill fellow.” Skillety Bill figured in one of the most important episodes in Bones’ life. The Negro boy was working at the time in old Greer County, which was a part of the “neutral Strip,” locally called a second “No Man’s Land.” Bones, young and inexperienced, had hired out to wrangle horses for a certain cattleman. One day, while he was tending the horses and minding his own business, Vigilantes rode up and asked him, “Are you working for those cattlemen down the creek?” Bones admitted that he was. Before he could says “Jack Robinson,”

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the Vigilantes jerked him up and started to hang him on the nearest tree. They had already hanged the two white men mentioned to other convenient trees. One of them Bones knew to be innocent. He was only a young boy who had come into the country looking for work two or three days before, who like himself, had hired out to the first men that offered him a job. But the Vigilantes, catching both of the white men with a herd of stolen cattle, took only circumstantial evidence into consideration and hanged them both. Bones was certain that they were going to add him to their victims, when Skillety Bill spoke up in behalf of the colored lad, saying that he was a mere boy, wrangling horses for the boss and only carrying out orders of the cattle thief, whom he had taken to be a bona fide cattleman. “A red-haired man astride a limb of the tree gave the rope around my neck a rough jerk,” Bones vividly recalled; and said, ‘Aw, come on, let’s got it over with’; but Skillety Bill saved my life.” After this narrow escape, Bones went into Oklahoma (then the Indian Territory) and so successfully “lost” himself that his own family and others thought him dead. At last he ventured back into Greer County. Walking through the streets of a Panhandle town, which he refuses to name, he came face to face with the sheriff (Skillety Bill). The sheriff looked at him closely and finally said, “I thought you were dead. How long are you going to be here?” “Only a little bit—a few days,” Bones replied. The sheriff started off down the street, turned back, and said, “How long did you say you were going to be in town? Did you say ‘a little bit’?” Bones, answered quickly, “Yes, sir, a little bit.” He knew what would happen to him if he did not get out of town in a “little bit”—and he got. The pioneer Negro bronco-buster knows cowboy life as few white persons now living. He was an interested listener around the campfires of nearly every ranch in the Panhandle. He heard many a lurid tale around a cow-chip blaze— words that can not be repeated in the hearing of ladies or in polite society. “Every horse, every man, bread and other articles of the camp, had a nickname, often unmentionable in mixed groups,” he said. Bones recalls an incident that occurred during a visit of Mrs. Charles Goodnight to a camp one day. One of the cowboys, who did not know of the lady’s presence, said, “Bones, bring me up a horse.” “Which one?” “That old—,” the cowboy stopped suddenly and clapped his hand over his mouth, preventing the escape of the horse’s unmentionable name when he

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The Plains and Plateau | Matthew “Bones” Hooks, Cowboy

saw Mrs. Goodnight standing there. “You know which one I want, “he added significantly. Bones honors and reveres the pioneer women of his beloved Panhandle, because they helped him as they helped so many others. When the cowboys tormented him—as they were always doing in some fashion—they took his part and made the white boys stop shooting blank cartridges at his feet or whatever they were doing to him at the moment. It was one of those pioneer women who taught Bones not to “cuss.” His favorite byword was “I’ God”—a corruption of “by God.” This pioneer mother came to him one day and said, “Bones, young Bob is taking up your speech and I don’t want him to say ‘I’ God.’ I can’t keep his from saying it as long as he hears you, so I’m going to have to break you of the habit. If you’ll quit, I’ll buy you a Sunday suit.” Bones wanted that suit. When Bob repeated the byword, the Negro boy would say, “Bob, white boys can get suits any time, but this the only way that I can get one. You mustn’t say ‘I’ God,’ or I won’t get that suit.” Bones, who attends every celebration of old-timers, at one of these recent gatherings met the daughter of one of the pioneer families for whom he used to work—he frequently associated with the children of the early settlers, especially the boys. He reminded her of the time when she was a very young lady indeed. At that time she had never seen a colored person. “Remember when you first saw me eating with the other cowboys?” he said. “You peeked out from behind your mother’s skirt and said, ‘Mamma, one of them didn’t wash his face.’” Bones said that he usually ate with the other cow hands. Once, when someone objected to the presence of the Negro boy at the same table, a pioneer housewife told the objector, “Everyone is treated alike at my table.” “In the early days,” Bones said in answer to a question, “when a cowboy died on the trail, accidentally or otherwise, he was buried in a hole dug in the sod without loss of time and without much ceremony. The name of the dead man was sent to his family if anyone knew his real name or who his people were. “Later, coffins were made of pine boards. Those who died were buried as soon as possible in those days, for obvious reasons. Relatives and friends sat up with the dead to keep the cats and dogs away. “Services for the dead were held by a friend or someone who was qualified—later by traveling preachers. Towns were far apart, and preachers and doctors had to go miles and miles to serve these communities. “Meetings”—church services—“were held in the homes of pioneers until churches were built,” he concluded.

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COYOTE AND THE BUFFALO Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wissler, Clark. “Some Dakota Myths I.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 124–26. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Ogalala Lakota (Sioux) National Origin: Native American

The following myth illustrates a typical introduction of Coyote tales, “Once Coyote was walking along.” Coyote’s behavior throughout the narrative is also typical of this trickster. He is motivated by hunger, fear, and curiosity. He attempts to use objects and powers that he does not comprehend and, as a result, ends up in no better condition than he was at the beginning of the adventure.

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nce Coyote was walking along. He had nothing to eat for a long time and was thin and weak. Finally he came to a deserted camp, but could find nothing save the remains of the fire. While he was looking around for food, he came upon a knife and an arrow. He carried them away with him, and when he came to the top of a high hill he saw many buffalo grazing in the valley below. He crept up close to the crest of the hill and looked over. Then he said to himself as he looked at the arrow and the knife, “Now those people kill buffalo with these things.” So he took up the arrow and threw it toward the buffalo, saying, “Now, go and kill the buffalo. Go, hit that one.” The arrow fell down upon the ground and said, “You must take a piece of wood and a string before I can go and kill the buffalo.” Then Coyote went up to a tree, took the knife and cut off one of the branches, trimmed it and peeled off the bark. He twisted the bark into a cord and tied it to the stick. Then he went back, laid the bow on the ground, picked up the arrow, put it on the stick, and said, “Now, go.” The arrow said to him, “No, that is not the way. You must pull on the string.” Then Coyote put the arrow down, took hold of the string, and dragged the bow along the ground.

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The Plains and Plateau | Coyote and the Buffalo

“No, no!” said the arrow, “that is not the way. You must hold me against the stick with one hand and hold the string with the other.” Coyote did so. “Now,” said the arrow, “pull with all your might and then let loose.” The arrow flew towards the buffalo, struck one of them in the side, but did not bring it down. Coyote picked up the knife and ran after the wounded buffalo as fast as he could. He shouted so loud that the wounded buffalo soon fell over from fright. Coyote stopped at once to lick up the blood from his wounds. Then he took up the knife and got ready to butcher the buffalo. Just then he looked up and saw a bear sitting on the other side. “Come on,” said Coyote, “I will give you some.” But the bear did not move. Coyote invited him again. Then he came over and helped Coyote to butcher. Now, Coyote was afraid of the bear and so kept on the other side of the buffalo from him. After a while the blood in Coyote’s stomach began to roll. The bear heard the noise. He stopped and said, “What’s that?” Then Coyote struck his stomach, and said in a loud voice, “Keep quiet, my brother.” “What did your brother say?” said the bear. “Well,” said Coyote, “my brother just said that he eats bear.” The bear was puzzled by this, and started to go away. “Where are you going?” said Coyote. “Oh,” said the bear, “I am just going over the hill.” As soon as the bear was out of sight, Coyote went up on the hill to look, and saw the bear running off as fast as he could. So he called out to the bear, “Come back, come back. I thought you were going to help me with my butchering.” Then Coyote went back to the buffalo, and as there were many leaves upon the ground he covered the meat up with them. Then he went on with his butchering and a magpie flew by. Coyote threw a piece of fat to the bird, saying, “Eat this, and then fly all around the world and tell the people to come here (all the birds and animals). There will be a great feast.” The magpie went out and flew all around the country, inviting all the animals to come to the feast. They soon arrived, and gathered around in a circle. Then Coyote sat down to have a talk with them. As soon as he sat down the night hawk began to fly around over his head and make a noise. “Oh, you get away, you jealous woman,” said Coyote. “I am going to talk now.” Then he tried to get up to begin his speech, but he could not rise. The night hawk had defecated around him, causing him to stick fast to his seat. Then all of the animals sprang up, ran to the carcass, and began to eat. Some of them soon found the meat hidden in the leaves, scratched it out, and ate it. Just

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as the meat was gone, Coyote got loose, but the animals ran away and left him. Then he sat down and cried. After a time he started on his journey again and saw four buffalo. Now he had lost his knife and the arrow. The buffalo were in a hole among some tall grass. “Now, how can I get them,” said Coyote to himself. He went close up to them, and, when the buffalo looked at him, he said, “Brothers, turn me into a buffalo so that I can eat grass.” “Well,” said a bull, “you stand over to one side and do not move.” “Now,” said the buffalo, “get down and roll in the dust.” When Coyote arose, the buffalo charged upon him, but Coyote was afraid and stepped to one side. The buffalo reproved him for this, and reminded him of the injunction to stand still. So they tried it again, but when the buffalo charged, Coyote stepped to one side as before. The buffalo reproved him, but said he would try again. The third time Coyote stepped aside as before. Now the buffalo was very angry, and he told Coyote he would try once more, and that, if he did not stand still, he would kill him. This time Coyote stood still when the buffalo charged. The buffalo tossed him up into the air and as he came down he became a buffalo. At once Coyote began to eat grass. He was very hungry. The buffalo started to go, but Coyote lingered behind eating grass. Finally, he refused to follow altogether, and the herd left him. Coyote saw a wolf, and called out to him, “Here, brother, let me turn you into a buffalo.” Then Coyote instructed the wolf to stand to one side and not to move. Then he told the wolf to roll in the dust as before. When Coyote charged upon the wolf, the latter stepped to one side. This he did three times, but the fourth time he stood still. Coyote said, “Now, I will make you eat grass.” Then he tossed the wolf into the air, but he did not change. Coyote, himself, became a coyote again. Then the wolf began to fight him. Coyote was angry and said, “Now, you have spoiled all my fun, and I will punish you.” So Coyote bit the wolf.

THE EYE-JUGGLER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: St. Clair, H. H., and R. H. Lowie. “Shoshone and Comanche Tales.” The Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 278–79. Date: 1909 Original Source: Comanche

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The Plains and Plateau | The Eye-Juggler


The Comanches were a nomadic culture of the southern Plains (Kansas, Oklahoma, and the Texas Panhandle) who, after the acquisition of the horse, became regarded as master equestrians. Their Coyote narratives more often portray him as a trickster rather than a culture hero. His restless wandering, curiosity, and vanity inevitably leads him into trouble as seen in the widely distributed myth “The Eye Juggler.”

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oyote was always knocking about hunting for something. He came to a creek, where there was nothing but green willows. Two little yellow-birds were playing there. He came up to them. Laughing, they pulled out their eyes and threw them on the trees, while they stood below. “Eyes, fall!” they said. Then their eyes fell back into their sockets. Coyote went to them. He greatly admired their trick. “O brothers! I wish to play that way, too.” “Oh, we won’t show you, you are too mean. You would throw your eyes into any kind of a tree and lose them.” “Oh, no! I would do it just like you.” At last the birds agreed to show him. They pulled out his eyes, threw them up, and said, “Eyes, fall!” Then his eyes fell back again. Coyote was well pleased. He pulled out his eyes himself, threw them up, and said, “Eyes, fall!” They returned to their places. “Let us all go along this creek!” said the birds. “Other people will see us and take a fancy to us.” They went along playing. Coyote said, “I am going over there. I know the trick well now.” He left them. He got to another creek. A common willow-tree was standing there. “There is no need to be afraid of this tree. I’ll try it first.” He pulled out his eyes, and threw them at the tree. “Eyes, fall!” he shouted. His eyes did not fall. He thus became blind. He tied something around his eyes, and left. Walking along the creek, he met two young girls. “What kind of girls are you?” “We are Ya’yaru girls.” “We all belong to the same people, then; I am a Ya’yaru young man.” The two girls did not know he was blind. He asked them, “Where are you going?” “We are going over there.”

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“Well, we will all go together.” They debated the matter, then all went together. One girl said, “Just look at the buffaloes there!” Coyote laughed. “I was wondering how soon you would catch sight of them, that’s why I would not tell you about them.” When they had gone a little farther, one of the girls asked the other, “Why does he not kill one of those buffaloes for us?” Coyote laughed, “I was wondering how long it would take you to think of that, that’s why I would not tell you before. Go around that way to the other side of the buffalo, then they won’t see you. Then they will run here, and I will kill one for us.” They followed his directions. The buffaloes, seeing them, ran towards Coyote. When they came nearer, he shot at them and killed one by chance. When the girls ran up, they said, “He has really killed one.” Coyote laughed. “I was wondering how soon they would see it, that’s what I was thinking about you.” They were skinning and cutting up the buffalo. One of the girls exclaimed, “Oh, isn’t he fat!” Coyote said, “Why, certainly, I was looking for a fat one. I strained my eyes mightily hunting for a fat one.” The two girls said, “Doesn’t he know well how to look for a fat one?” Coyote said, “Do you two cut it up, I will build us a house by the creek.” He went off to make them a lodge. There were big holes in it everywhere, because he was blind. He made it of brush. The two girls came with the meat. They said, “This must be a house built by a blind man, there are holes all over.” Coyote laughed. “Oh, you two don’t understand. Why, I built it this way so that if lots of enemies charge on us, we might go out in any direction. There is no danger here of our being hemmed in.” The girls said, “We did not think of that.” They made their home there, both becoming Coyote’s wives. Once Coyote said to them, “Louse me.” The women sat down, and Coyote placed his head on one, and his feet on the other. For a while they loused him, then he fell asleep. One of the women said, “Let us pull off this rag from his head! He won’t know anything about it, he’s asleep. Let us look at his eyes.” She raised the cover. “Why, he is blind! There are lots of worms in his eyes.” The one on whose lap his head was resting bade her companion bring a stump with lots of ants on it. “Put it under his head, and fetch another one without ants for his feet.”

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The Plains and Plateau | Joke on Jake

After they had fixed the stumps, one of them said, “Let us go now!” The older sister said, “Take hold of those bells!” They got some distance away from Coyote. Shortly after they had left, the ants began to, bite him. He began butting with his head. “Oh, be easy, you two, louse me!” He tried to butt them, but only struck the ground. He woke up, and looked for their trail. Looking back, the women saw him coming. They began to run. “That is surely Coyote there. Let us beat him by that big red bluff.” The older sister said, “Tear off those bells of yours.” She pulled them off. “He can’t see us, he is just following the bells. When we get to the red bluff, drop your bells, and he will fall over it.” Coyote was pursuing them. The woman’s bells were jingling as they ran along. When they got to the cliff, she dropped them. Coyote, hearing the bells, followed after them, and was crushed to pieces. The women went home.

JOKE ON JAKE Tradition Bearer: Annette Hamilton Source: Walden, Wayne. “Interview of Annette Hamilton.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 16 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/ wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Colorado National Origin: European American

The following narrative displays qualities of several common genres. The first person rendition qualifies it as a personal experience narrative. In focusing on a practical joke on a well-known citizen of Eton, Colorado, it can be classified as a local legend, and the feature of Jake’s heavy German accent is a characteristic of the ethnic joke.

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guess it was about two months ago a knock caused me to answer the door, and when I looked out I see a tall, lean and rather ragged old fellow. I knew right away he wasn’t a salesman. For one thing he didn’t spring at me with his sales baloney, nor try to get his foot in the door. He just took off his hat and seemed kind of uncertain how to begin his spiel. Most of ’em have some sort of spiel. He didn’t look so very old—about seventy maybe—and he seemed fairly clean, at least not lousy. And the more I looked at him the more he struck me as someone not of these parts, and possibly not a bum at all. Well, since he didn’t seem to know how to speak up for himself, I finally says, “What is it you want?” and, thinking maybe the man is hungry and a bit embarrassed about asking, I finally says, “Are you hungry?” He was, of course, but I guess he hadn’t planned on negotiating a feed quite so easy as all that. So I says, “Come on in” and so he comes in and I sets him up to the table. I put out some grub before him and made him a pot of coffee—if there was one thing he fell for, it was coffee. After awhile he mentions Colorado. “I’ve been in that state myself,” I says. “I know that old state like a book myself,” I says. I guess that remark jerked the old man out of himself more than anything else I’d said before. He looked at me then with real interest. “Do you really?” he says. “Do you know the Lone Cone country? I used to punch cattle all around that part,” he says. “I’ve rode the range from hell to breakfast all over that district.” From his talk and looks, I guess he wasn’t kiddin’ either. He looked like that was what he’d been. “I did some prospecting up in the hills of Boulder County and I used to work around the northern part of the state quite a bit. Do you know where Eton is?” he asked me. I didn’t remember that town, but when he told me it was near Greeley, not so far south of the Wyoming line, I had an idea. “I had some mighty fine times up in that part of the state,” he said, “but I guess now it’s not the same as it used to be, with the automobile and everything. The open range is about gone,” he says, “a lot of it become fenced in and made farms of. It can’t be the cow country that it used to be.” “I wasn’t around there during the dry spell, when Prohibition hit the country, but I bet it was hell then. It sure must have been dreary. As I recollect the old place, and the fellows I used to know, I don’t see how they put it over,” he says. “Well, thank you, ma’am, for the meal,” he says, “I appreciate it very kindly,” he says, “and I sure was glad to find someone from the old country,” he says as he gets up to go. “That’s all right, if you happen around again, drop in,” I says. “I haven’t much, but a little something to eat won’t break me nor make me, so don’t go hungry,” I tells him. He would have done the dishes, if I’d wanted him, but I

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didn’t care to have him messing around with ’em, probably making the joint worse looking than it was. So he beats it. Well, that visit was, as I said, a couple of months ago, and I’d about forgotten all about it. But, lo and behold! my Mister Man shows up again. I’m going back,” he says, “I’m going back to the old stamping grounds. And being in the neighborhood, I thought I’d call on you again,” he says, “and see if you had any message you wanted me to take along to anyone out there,” he says. “I just can’t think of anybody I might know that you might know, I says, “If I did know anybody you might have known, it would probably be since your day,” I told him, “but thanks, just the same.” But, as he was eating, he gets to telling me about certain people and asking if I knew any of them. It seemed that I didn’t, though. “I bet you know old Jake Snyder, or heard of him anyway. Everybody knew old Jake.” I had to admit that old Jake was not on my calling list, and shameful as it was, I’d never heard tell of him. For a moment I imagined the old man doubted that I’d ever been west of Hoboken, that maybe I was stringing him about being once in Colorado. Anyhow, pretty soon he goes on, evidently giving me the benefit of the doubt. “Old Jake, he says, “was a saloon keeper, and a man that weighed well over three hundred pounds—three twenty seven so he told everybody, and he looked it. And so far as anyone knew he had always been a bachelor. It’s too bad you didn’t know Jake; it would be easier to describe him if you’d a known him.” The old man poured himself another cup of coffee and rolled a cigarette. “Poor old Jake,” the old man sort of chuckled, “about as mean and low-down a trick as the boys could play on him happened one night when the Duke came to town. And gosh, how Jake liked to eat! One reason he bached (remained a bachelor) I guess, was ’cause he didn’t have a woman. They wasn’t many women out there anyway, and what there was didn’t seem to hanker much for Jake. He was too heavy to be in the running, I s’pose. But he wasn’t all fat. He was stout as a bull, and in a rough and tumble fight it would take a darned good man to go up against him.” “But what was the joke they played on him when the Duke came to town?” I asked. “I was comin’ to that,” says the old man, “but I’m glad you reminded me, or I might have strayed off the trail. I was thinking of another time, but I’ll tell you that later. “You see Jake did his batchen in the rear part of the house. The saloon, naturally, was in the front part. So when he wasn’t too busy at the bar, he’d be in the back a cookin’. He was great for dumplings, and bragged that he could make

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as good dumplings as any woman in the country. Well, it happened that several times when Jake cooked a stew with dumplings in it, he’d invite one or two of the boys back to eat with him, and see for themselves how good them dumplings were. But the trouble with Jake was, that when he’d go to test the dumplings, to see if they was done, his test wouldn’t be just a taste, but a whole darned dumpling. And he’d do this testing so often, that by the time the dumplings ought to of been done, they’d all be et up. “It wasn’t that he was greedy or selfish. He’d just kinda forget about his having company for dinner. He was always sorry of course, and would try to fill them up with something else. So whether the dumplings was as good as Jake said they was, no one ever knew. “Jake was so good-natured that even when the boys got stung on his dumplings they didn’t hardly get mad at him. But while they wasn’t mad, some of the boys thought the joke had gone far enough, and it was time to play a joke on Jake. “So they lays their heads together and figures out a plan. There was a fellow around town good on doing ventriloquism—talkin’ down his throat. He might not a been quite what this Charley McCarthy is, but he was so good at it that he had a lot of ’em fooled, includin’ me the first time I heard him. So they gets him as the first move. “Then they borrow a clothes store dummy from Greeley (Colorado). The next thing was to get the dummy trimmed right. After some argument they decides to fix him up like a real dude; as right fresh from England, a member of the House of Lords. Where the Sam Hill they ever got all the duds and trappings they finally dolled him out in, I never heard. “The next thing they does, is to lug this dummy into ol’ Jake’s place and to interduce him as a Duke with plenty of money, and out for a good time. They explains that His Highness was purty drunk as he was, but the rest of ’em wasn’t, and that the Duke wanted his guests to have service and lots of it. What’s more the Duke is sensitive to a slight, but there is one thing he has, besides a bun on, and that was a big wad of good United States money. “‘Glad to meet you,’ says Jake, to the Duke, not noticing that the hand he shook belonged to one of the bunch standing ’round the Duke. “‘What’ll you have to drink, Mister Duke,’ he says. ‘Set ’em up to the boys,’ the ventriloquist makes the Duke answer. “So old Jake puts out the drinks to the whole caboodle except the Duke. As he went to serve him, one of the fellows winks and tells Jake to let the Duke sober up a bit. So they lays the Duke out on a table where he could sleep it off, and the rest of the bunch begins to injoy themselves.

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“But every so often the Duke would rouse from his drunken slumber enough to holler out, ‘set ’em up to the boys.’ And it went on that way, round after round, way into the night. “Course, ol’ Jake was happy as a lark, thinkin’ of his profits rolling in. It wasn’t within Jake’s memory that so rich and wonderful a customer had ever patronized his saloon. Of course His Grace had spent most of the time sloopin’ on the table. But his frequent orders kept Jake jumping and sweatin’ a servin’ the rest of the crowd. “No wonder ol’ Jake was pleased. No other bar was as busy as his that night, and by cheese and crackers, no other saloon had a real live Duke as its customer. ‘Dose boys who brung him in,’ I guess ol’ Jake was thinkin’, ‘I will gif dem a goot meal of dumblings.’ “Finally, Jake began to notice that the crowd had thinned out somewhat. Some of them still stuck around singin’ songs, and the Duke still lay on the table. After awhile the gang grew scarcer yet, and purty soon they’d all cleared out, ’cepting Jake and the Duke. “‘Golly,’ thinks Jake, ‘that darned Duke didn’t do any drinking, and he ought to be comin’ out of it by now.’ “So Jake does some tidying up of the place; kicks the spitoons back where they belonged; picks up after the crowd; and to kill a little more time, he swabs the bar. All the while he keeps lookin’ at the clock and hoping the Duke will wake up. It was long past closing time, and Jake too was getting all in and sleepy. “Well, to make a long story short; Jake at last goes over to the Duke and speaks to him. ‘Mister Duke,’ he says, ‘Mister Duke, vill you blease vake op.’ “No answer, of course, from the Duke. ‘Hey Mister Duke, I vish to glose up now, and vill you blease bay your bill.’ Still the Duke slept on, and Jake was beginning to lose his good nature. “‘Mister Duke,’ Jake shouts, ‘py golly, I vant you to bay up your bill. I vant to glose up, d’ye hear?’ But the Duke remains dead to the world. “‘Maybe,’ thinks Jake, ‘that damned Duke is trying to get out of paying him.’ That was something he hadn’t thought of, and, horrified by the awful suspicion, he makes another try at getting the Duke to sit up and take notice. He shakes the Duke, and then he tumbles him off the table and lets him fall on the floor. By now with his Dutch temper up, he was just on the point of cuffing the Duke into sobriety, and collecting his account when some of the gang rushed in. They’d been watching all the time through a window. Seeing the Duke stretched out on the floor, and seeming to be plumb dead, they says: ‘My God, Jake whatcha done! Oh! Jake it looks as if you’ve killed the Duke. Bet you that’s just what you done!’

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“Old Jake had been purty mad a moment before, but now he gets purty darned scared. He tries to do some swift thinkin’. “‘Boys,’ he said, ‘py Golly I had to do it. I didn’t vant to hit him, but that son-of-a-gun of a Duke drew a knife on me.’ “Then, of course the bunch begin to laugh and, picking the Duke up, they exposes him to Jake for the wooden dummy he was. “‘Boys,’ said Jake, forgetting entirely the Duke’s bill, and tickled to death that he wasn’t goin’ to be hung for murder, ‘boys gome cop and haf a drink. Py Golly dat vas a goot joke on me!’”

HE-MAN FROM THE WEST Tradition Bearer: Mrs. R. Ivanoff Source: Walden, Wayne. “Interview of Mrs. R. Ivanoff.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/ wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Colorado National Origin: European American

The following tall tale alludes to former heavyweight boxing champions: James Jackson “Jim” Jeffries (1875–1953), Arthur John “Jack” Johnson (1878–1946), James John “Gentleman Jim” Corbett (1866–1933), Robert James “Bob” Fitzsimmons (1863–1917) and John L. Sullivan (1858–1918).

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’ll give you this as I heard it told years ago by my brother-in-law. He had come from the West and was therefore regarded by an eight year old boy in the family as a hero, a he-man who had fought many battles with wild Indians and desperadoes. One day, when the kid kept urging him to tell about some of the great fights that he’d been in out West, this is what he told:

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The Plains and Plateau | He-man from the West

“Well, I dunno—I ain’t never been the kind that went ’round looking for scraps, but I’ve been in a few. One that comes to mind, hardly seems worth the tellin’, but it happened so quick and was finished so soon, that I almost forgot about it until you reminded me of it. “It was out in Denver, when one day I walked into a saloon to get a drink. I noticed that there was a long line-up at the bar, but didn’t notice till I bellied up that it was a bunch of old-time heavyweights. There was Jim Jeffries and Jack Johnson and Jim Corbett and Bob Fitzsimmons and John L. Sullivan and a lot of others includin’ a bunch of lighter weights, all tuff guys too. “Well, that was alright. I wasn’t mad at nobody, so I just stood there friendly like, waitin’ for my beer, while the barkeep was tendin’ to these other guys. Finally, when he did get around to me and starts to hand me my schooner, one of these here blokes—Sullivan or Jeffries—I forget just which of ’em it was— reaches out to grab it away from me. “I was kinda hot-tempered in those days, so with that I lets loose and pops him one. Well he, of course, falls back and knocks against the guy next to him, and that one falls over spilling the guy next to him. Anyhow they all went tumbling down like a bunch of stood-up dominoes. “By that time I had finished the beer and I walked out of the place. There was a mule hitched just outside the door and he happened to be one of them kicking kind. He figured, I guess, that he might as well take a kick at me as anybody so, sure enough, he started in. But me being still kind of sore about what happened inside the saloon, I caught that mule’s foot, when he kicked out at me, and bit the darned thing plumb off.” But that was a bit too tall a one for the kid. It probably should have been toned down a bit, because even he half-suspected it was a lie.

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THE THREE NEPHITES A Messenger to the Indians Tradition Bearer: Sextus E. Johnson Source: Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 10–11. Date: 1911 Original Source: Utah National Origin: European American

According to the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as recorded in the Book of Mormon, Jesus visited the Western Hemisphere after his crucifixion. He promised three of his New World believers, the Three Nephites, immortality. The Three Nephites appear in legend, usually alone, often in the guise of beggars or homeless wanderers. They offer assistance in times of trouble, cure the sick, bring


enlightenment, or perform other benevolent acts. The tales of the Three Nephites serve to reinforce the teachings of the Book of Mormon and to confirm God’s concern for the faithful.

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uring the summer of 1876 a stranger is said to have appeared to the Indians west of St. George, Utah, at a place called Duck Creek. He told the Indians that he was one of their forefathers and that he had many things to tell them because he had lived for a long time upon the earth. At his request runners were sent out to call in all the bands of Indians who dwelt nearby. The stranger was described by the Indians as a man having a long white beard who was entirely dressed in white. He stayed with them for several months and during the whole of his stay with them not an Indian was seen along the Virgin River or its tributaries. When the Indians had returned to their homes, Sextus E. Johnson, who is the writer of the account which we are telling, and his brother, Nephi Johnson, called the Indians together and questioned them about the man who had appeared to them out of the west. They were informed that his name was Nephi and that he told them that the Mormons were their friends and that they should listen to their advice, assuring them that in due time prophets would come among the Indians and teach them how to live a better life. When they inquired how long he had lived upon the earth he answered them, but it was so many moons that they could not enumerate them, the number being so far beyond their comprehension. Mr. Johnson, addressing Joseph F. Smith, who was then President of the Mormon Church, assured him that he and his brother were convinced that this stranger really had visited the Indians from out of the west, that his name was indeed Nephi, and that he was one of those ancient American apostles to whom Christ had given the mission to remain upon this earth as His special witnesses until He should come again in His glory.

A Wonderful Testimony Tradition Bearer: Maud May Babcock Source: Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 13–15.

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Date: 1911 Original Source: Utah National Origin: European American

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uring the summer of 1900 the writer, Miss Maud May Babcock, was at Brighton, which is in the mountains southeast of Salt Lake City. Since it was her first vacation in the mountains she spent all her time eagerly climbing the various neighboring peaks, on foot and on horseback, in the company of a school teacher, Carrie Helen Lamson, a woman some years her elder. On each of their excursions they grew more venturesome and wandered farther from camp. On one occasion they explored the canyon beyond Alta, which is in the Little Cottonwood. When they arrived at the pass between that river and American Fork canyon they continued with the intention of climbing the peak beyond. However, when they suddenly discovered that the day was advancing and that they could not hope to climb that distant peak and return before dark, they changed directions and climbed a mountain that was not so far away and which miners of the region call North Pole Peak. They found this mountain much higher than they had expected, and after ascending ridge after ridge, each time expecting to arrive at the summit, they finally reached the top, which dominated the entire valley and neighboring mountains. Having admired the exquisite view, which they had from this summit, they determined to return to this peak when they could make a more extensive excursion and spend two days before returning to camp. This decision made, they returned to camp and made arrangements for their more extensive trip, which was to take place a week later. When they were ready to leave they were advised to take a shorter trail than the one over which they had traveled previously, going above Dog Lake to Lake Catherine and thence to the divide. By about seven o’clock in the morning they had reached what appeared to be the right trail, which they came upon near a deserted mine camp above Dog Lake. Beyond this point they soon found that they could go no further, nor yet get back without crossing a crevice that was filled with shale. The writer tried to force her horse to cross the shale, but as soon as the shale began to slide the horse refused to move. Meanwhile the other woman had not been able to get her horse to move at all. Finally after leaving her horse the writer succeeded in reaching the top of the mountain where she hoped to be able to find help in the guise of some wandering prospector, but she found no one. She was forced to climb over the jagged peak above her horse, which she then tried to drive across the sliding shale by touching him

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with a small willow, but he would not move. In this crucial moment when she feared that the shale would begin to slide carrying herself, her companion and both horses to their death, she prayed to her Heavenly Father for help. As she raised her head a voice above her said, “How did you come here, my daughter?” “I jabbered in my relief and excitement, trying to explain our predicament, and before my explanation was finished I was standing on the top, with Miss Lamson and both our horses in a circle facing the stranger.” She affirms that neither she nor her companion have any recollection of how they or their horses got there. Their mysterious helper had a gray Vandyke beard, a cap on his head, and was dressed in new blue overalls. He was very clean and the women both remarked that his soft white hands must have been unused to manual labor. He addressed Miss Babcock as “My daughter,” and when Miss Lamson (who was not a Mormon) asked him several questions he directed his answers to Miss Babcock. When the stranger was asked which way they should continue their journey he told them to go right on the way they were going and that everything would be all right. As they were talking to him they got on their horses and started on their way, but before going twenty feet it occurred to Miss Babcock that she had not thanked him for his great service. When she turned to do so the mysterious stranger was no where to be seen although they had clear vision for at least a mile in every direction—he had vanished. They had seemed dazed from the wonder and marvel of the experience, which up to the mysterious stranger’s miraculous disappearance had seemed perfectly natural, but which now made the writer exclaim as if inspired, “He was one of the Three Nephites.” As the two women continued on their way they suddenly became aware of the peculiar hob-nail footprints which the stranger had made as he came toward the point of the hill where he had rescued them. They followed these tracks from about seven in the morning until they had reached the American Fork canyon, about one in the afternoon. At times they left these tracks to make a short-cut, but on each of these occasions they were forced to return and follow the footprints, because the short-cut was impossible. When they had come down the mountain into the canyon they met some miners who advised them to go through Deer Creek into Provo canyon instead of through the South Fork, and thence into the North Fork of the Provo because of the heavy snow. They did as the miners had advised them. The way was long and tiresome, and they were not able to reach camp until after midnight. The writer says she has always believed that if she had continued following the stranger’s foot-prints through the South Fork, she would have found the way

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passable and in addition would have been able to see the glacier behind Timpanogos Mountain as they had planned. On the following morning the two women started up the Provo River toward the Hot Pots. Because they were not dressed in the conventional feminine dress, they decided to take the north side of the Provo valley and thus avoid the towns located on the south side. They followed a road along this side of the canyon until it suddenly ran out into an irrigation ditch which had on either side large willow trees with foliage so thick that they had to lie flat on their horses to avoid the branches. After going a half a mile or more the writer’s horse suddenly wheeled about almost tearing her clothes off on the overhanging branches. Getting off and looking around, she found a large rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike. Upon consideration the women decided that it would be better to brave the rattler than to go back through all the willows so they forced the horses through, throwing stones at the snake as they passed. When they had succeeded in getting through the willows and past the snake, the writer discovered that she had lost a watch and chain which was a treasured gift from a dear friend and which she had promised to keep always. Feeling sure that she had lost the watch in the mud of the stream at the point where she had passed the rattlesnake, she prayed for strength and went back to look for it, fearing at every moment to come upon the rattlesnake. She found the water of the ditch muddied from the horses’ hoofs and, after poking around for some minutes in the roily water, she again prayed for assistance. Opening her eyes, she saw her watch, all muddy from having dropped into the bed of the ditch and with the case open; yet it was hanging on a low bush a foot or two above the water. When the mud had been cleaned from the case it started to go and has kept good time ever since. The result of all these experiences was that the companion of Miss Babcock, who was both a non-Mormon and an atheist, received thereby a proof that God answers prayer, and that Mormonism is the true church of Christ.

Ziegler’s Conversion Tradition Bearer: Wesley Ziegler Source: Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 17–19. Date: 1931

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Original Source: Utah National Origin: European American

The experiences reported in this summary took place, according to the writer, when he was between twelve and fifteen years of age.

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esley Ziegler says that he was born of parents who had left the ministry and who had taught him to believe in Christ without sending him to any particular church. When he was about twelve years old he states that the Lord spoke to him in a dream. He saw an old man coming towards him who was dressed in a long sack-cloth robe and who carried a staff in his hand. Calling the young man by his first name, he told him that he was Peter, and then led him away to the city of Rome and showed him the Emperor Nero who, he states, was a very corrupt man. And he saw the family tree of Nero with its five branches and the three children of this Emperor: the firstborn without a face, the second without a head, and the third born with two heads. This dream frightened the boy very much for he could not make out what it meant. The young man states that he continued to receive visions and revelations until eventually he came to understand his original dream and many other spiritual things. The city of Rome, he says, represents the Catholic Church, and the corrupt Emperor its corruption. The five branches of his family tree represent the five branches into which that church has been split, i.e., Roman Catholic, Greek Catholic, etc. The children represented the Protestant churches, some of which lack a face, some a head, and others of which have two heads. Some lack this truth, some that, and some of them lay too much stress on certain things. He had received a testimony of the great apostasy although he says that he had never known that such an apostasy had ever taken place. The young man states that it was through these wonderful experiences that he was brought to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, long before he had had any contact with this church, and long before he had heard anything more than passing mention of it. He had not even known that the Mormons were Christians. Being thus converted, he went over to the public library to learn something about the Mormons. He found nothing but bitter and prejudiced books, which told mostly lies about the Mormons, but in which he eagerly searched for the truth. At first he conducted this investigation without the

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knowledge of his parents. He had been told that the library did not contain a copy of the Book of Mormon but after about a year’s study in this library he ran across a copy and took it home and read it to his parents, who by this time were aware of their son’s interest in Mormonism. Having finished reading the Book of Mormon, he returned it to the library but could not bear to leave it there. He went over and got it a second time, and as he was walking home with the book under his arm, he was suddenly accosted by one of the most distressed of men he had ever seen. He was clothed in rags, held together with big safety pins. His beard was grizzled; he was poverty personified. When he asked the youth for charity and was offered the only penny that the boy had, he refused to take it. He wanted not money, he said, so much as a place to sleep. When he was asked if he had a home, he replied that he had no definite one, that he was just a tramp, he guessed. Then he corrected himself and said that he was not exactly a tramp either, but rather a wanderer. The boy told him that he might go to the Salvation Army or to the City Welfare Department. He asked where the Salvation Army was. When the boy tried to explain its approximate location, the wanderer asked him if he really knew where it was and the boy was forced to admit that he did not. Then the wanderer told him that he should always remember never to give directions to anyone on any matter unless he was certain that those directions were correct. Then he reached down and took the Book of Mormon from under the boy’s arm, opened it, and started a sermon. The things that he explained were most wonderful, and many of them were beyond the boy’s comprehension. As he spoke he would leaf through the Book, turning over whole groups of pages at a time, and always he would turn to the very words he wanted to illustrate what he was saying. “My,” he said, “isn’t this a wonderful book! If people would only read it, it would do them so much good.” For a long time he talked and explained wonderful things and finally he concluded by saying, “Yes, my boy, you are undertaking a very deep study.” Next he looked at the boy’s identification card and read his name and address aloud. Then he closed the Book of Mormon, gave it back to the boy, and extended his hand saying, “Well, goodbye, my friend. You are my friend, aren’t you?” The boy took his hand and said that he was. As the stranger started to walk away the boy turned to watch him. He could have gone only a few steps when he suddenly disappeared. The boy was bewildered by the situation and looked for him in every direction, but there was no mistaking it, he was gone. Having read the Book of Mormon, the boy quite naturally thought of the Three Nephites who were to tarry until Jesus came. Since that time, he says, he has heard the testimonies of

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other people who have seen one of them, and he finds that his experience corresponds closely to theirs. He says he has no doubt that this man was one of them, although he could have been St. John. This wanderer was the first Mormon that he had ever seen.

One of the Three Nephites Brings a Special Spiritual Message Tradition Bearer: Joseph Wood Source: Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 23–25. Date: 1939 Original Source: Utah National Origin: European American

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prayed for six years that I might have the privilege of a visit with one of those men (i.e., one of the Three Nephites), if not more. That’s a long time, isn’t it? We usually get pretty tired and give up before then. But my faith was that strong that that was possible. On one winter evening just forty-nine years ago this winter (i.e., 1890) I was chopping wood out in the snow, snow about eighteen or twenty inches deep, and I saw that man coming up the street, and the impression come to me that that’s one of the Three Nephites, so I watched him all up the street, kept on chopping but kept watching him. He come on up and come up to me and said, “Young man, I’ve come to have a talk with you. Come on in the house. I’ve got something to show you, and to have a talk with you.” I didn’t invite him in at all; he come right in my own home and opened the door for me. The house has been torn down, but that’s a picture of it. (He showed us a picture of the house, and pointed out the room where he sat with the Nephite). I mustn’t tell you all he told me; it would hit you too hard. I had around half an hour’s conversation with that man. He talked about our temples. He talked about the disturbances that’ve come up in the Church, and he give me to understand that fact that the Almighty God, the Eternal Father, would never give us anything any more that surpassed or excelled that Book of Mormon. That was the greatest thing ever come to the people of this dispensation for our guide.

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I pressed him hard to know what his name was. I didn’t know then that prediction in the Book of Mormon that their names would never be known. So when I asked him what his name was so I’d know which one he was he didn’t tell me. He was a fine looking man, the set of his eyes, so sweet and pretty—a fine head of hair—his nose, even and perfect. The finest complexion I ever saw on a human being. No child ever born had as fine a complexion as that man. It wouldn’t do for me to give you all our conversation. It would be too hard for you. I was never asked to make it known. Strange to say, you are the only people ever asked me that question (meaning, if he had ever seen one of the Three Nephites). The disturbances I went through was outlined, the troubles that we went through. It wasn’t long before this people was confronted with this question: “What shall we do about polygamy?” He outlined those troubles then, the troubles coming to this people. I was wonderfully disturbed at that time. Things had taken place in this ward because I stood on an injustice when I was in the bishopric—I was out then—and consolation came through which I was reconciled fully, and also confirmed my conviction that I already had, that the Book of Mormon came actually from the only God and was a guide to these people. When that man left me I questioned him hard where he was from. He was very pointed in not answering me or my questions. He didn’t tell me his name, he didn’t tell me just where he was going. He give me to understand he was from the north. When he left me he left me as sudden. He opened the door and shut it, and that’s all. I opened the door but could not see my visitor. How he went and where he went I don’t know. Perhaps he moved quicker than my eye; I couldn’t say. It could be compared to sleight of hand. He was the finest looking character there could possibly be. He was dressed like an ordinary man. Clothes of dark nature. His beard was just as white as the driven snow. And his hair, just as white as it could be. I said to him, “You have the appearance actually of being a young person, but your hair says that you are aged.” All I got was a good big smile from that; he didn’t say nothing at all. I can’t give you all that conversation because I feel that it shouldn’t go out. I witnessed it and I saw it all the way through, all he said about the troubles to come to us, and disturbances. He didn’t give me any time for certain changes to take place. He was well proportioned. He stood as straight as an Indian. In all his actions he was so pleasant, so nice looking, so young, in every way just as white as could be, his beard and hair. The prettiest hair I ever saw in my life was on that man’s head. Such a lovely complexion. He fulfilled the “white and delightsome people” in every way. He told me of things relative to my own home.

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Miraculous Healing by One of the Three Nephites Tradition Bearer: Larene K. Bleeker Source: Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 35. Date: 1939 Original Source: Utah National Origin: European American

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his was in Provo. Old David John was Stake President there one time, lived in a big two story house on Third South. It happened in the winter time. The snow was very deep on the ground, especially so, and for days the family hadn’t gone outside for anything. It was in the—I don’t know just why they were so isolated, think they were quarantined for a contagious disease, one of the children was very ill. They didn’t have telephones, and the mother had no way of summoning help. In the night a knock came on the door and she went to the door, and a very benevolent-looking man was standing there. She described him as kind-looking with a snow-white beard. He said he had been sent and he understood there was sickness and they needed help. Her first thought was that he was one of the brethren in the ward. Then a little later she thought, “He isn’t anyone I know, he isn’t anyone that lives in Provo.” He placed his hands on the child’s head and blessed the child, and she immediately went to sleep. It was so cold and the snow was so deep that she asked him to set up to the fire and dry his feet, and then she looked at his feet and there was no snow on them and they were dry. She immediately thought he had left his over-shoes outside by the door, and she asked him if he had. He looked at her and smiled. When he did speak his voice was very mellow and musical. He said he must go. She tried to prevail on him to stay, but he said he must go. She went out with him to the door, and then came in. Then she thought how strange it was how he got to the door, there was such a narrow space between the house and fence. It seemed to her that it would be impossible for him to walk around, the snow was so deep. The door was one that they didn’t use at all. Out of curiosity she took a lantern, but she couldn’t see any tracks in the snow, either coming or going. Only then it flashed across her that he was one of the Three Nephites.

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The Plains and Plateau | Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe

LEGEND OF THE TETON SIOUX MEDICINE PIPE Tradition Bearer: Percy Phillips Source: Dorsey, George A. “Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe.” Journal of American Folklore 19 (1906): 326–29. Date: ca. 1906 Original Source: Teton National Origin: Native American

The Teton were the major division of the Dakota (Sioux) residing in the Dakotas, but originally with bands ranging much of the area west of the Missouri River in pursuit of the buffalo herds that provided their major source of subsistence. The following narrative is a composite of myth and, in the final three paragraphs, legend. The myth couples the pipe as a symbol of spiritual sustenance for the Northern Plains Classic cultures, with the buffalo as the symbol of physical sustenance. Folklorist George A. Dorsey’s introductory comments to the tale are worth quoting at length. Dorsey writes, “The following account of what seems to have been an important tribal ceremony was obtained from Percy Phillips, a young full-blood educated Sioux, living on the Cheyenne Reservation, South Dakota. The pipe referred to in the account is said to belong to the Sans Arcs division of the Teton Sioux, and is in the possession of Red-Hair, the keeper. The ceremony lasts about half a day and the singing of the ritual is of about one hour’s duration. The ritual is preceded by songs from the medicine-men. The pipe when not in use is kept in a bundle, which is about three feet long; the pipe itself being protected by gifts or offerings which have been made to it, then wrapped with buckskin and placed in a bag of woven buffalo hair. The outer wrapper of buffalo hide has been replaced by one of canvas. The ceremony is said to be performed in influential families when a girl first attains the age of womanhood and also when a period of mourning is stopped by a formal feast” (326).

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hen the Indians were all living together in the east, near a great lake, they were encamped in a large circle. At that time there was supposed to be but one language spoken; and there were chiefs for every tribe, one chief to every band. One day two young men went out hunting in a mountainous country. At the top of a high tableland they found game. On their way down the hill they saw a woman coming towards them. As they came near to the woman they noticed that she had something in her arms. On approaching still nearer they discovered that she was a fine-looking young woman, carrying a pipe on her left arm. Suddenly one of the young men said: “Let us outrage her.” He tempted the other man, who said: “No, it is not well that you should do anything of the sort, for she is of mysterious appearance.” When they came closer, both men stopped and obstructed her way. The woman stopped and said: “I heard what you were saying.” The tempter urged his fellow, and said: “Let us leap upon her.” The other man answered: “No, you must not harm her.” The tempter said: “Yes, I will attack her, for there is no one around.” The other man said: “You may, but I will stand aside.” The woman said: “I do not wish to stir up any strife, since I am on a special errand from the Great Medicine.” With this she stepped aside, took the pipe, which was seen to be filled, from her left arm and laid it down upon a buffalo chip, with the stem directly toward the east. Then she laughed and sat down. The tempter approached her abruptly, threw her prostrate, and as he was on the verge of outraging her there seemed to be a very great rumbling in the heavens, and there came forth from the heavens, as it were, mist which enveloped the place where they lay so that they could not be seen. There they remained for a time, and when the mist lifted there was to be seen only the skeleton of the man, but the woman came away unchanged. The young man who had stood at one side watching was frightened and started to run away, but the woman called him back. As he looked back the woman told him to go to the camp where all the people were and say: “A sacred pipe is coming to you, which will furnish you abundance in the Spirit Land.” The young man went away as fast as he could, and when he came to the place of the chief he delivered his message. Immediately all the chiefs were gathered together, and they erected a tipi large enough to contain a great many people, and they made ready for the coming of the woman with the pipe. As she appeared on the hill-top on her way to the camp, the lightning flashed in every direction about her. So mysterious was her coming that even

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The Plains and Plateau | Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe

the dogs were afraid to bark. As the woman drew near, the chiefs gathered in a circle, holding in their midst a red blanket, with a white border and thus they went forth to meet her. A little distance from the camp the woman stopped, and when the priests came to her they threw down the blanket for her to stand upon. All of the chiefs took hold of the blanket and carried her to the center of the large tipi especially prepared for her coming. The woman had with her the large pipe, and when she was set down, she spoke as follows: “This pipe is to be transmitted from generation to generation, and thus it shall be handed down to the end of time.” The woman laid the pipe on a buffalo chip. Again she spoke, and said: “There shall be but one nation, and by that nation this pipe must be kept sacred; it must be used in time of war, in time of famine, in time of sickness, in time of need of any sort, as an instrument for preservation. This pipe will be your chief deity. It must be kept by the best chief of the tribe, and must be attended to once a year, by the assemblage of the most upright chiefs. Whenever they open the pipe there must be made tools expressly for handling the fire, a certain stick must be trimmed and handled by virgins or by young men of chastity, expressly for the pipe, a tamper, and a little spoon must be made to take up the fire. The pipe must have a wrapping of wool of the buffalo only. From the first enemy that shall be killed through the power of the pipe an ear shall be cut off and tied to the pipe-stem. The first scalp to be taken shall be treated in the same way. Whenever you are hungry my instructions must be followed. Ten men shall open the pipe, to plead to the Great Owner of the pipe. Should the man holding the pipe do any wrong there would be a demolition of his whole family. Through the advice of your ten best chiefs the pipe shall be kept by the very best chief of all. As long as the holder shall walk reverently and keep himself in order, the keeping of the pipe shall be hereditary.” As the woman was leaving the tipi she said that she was going to stop four times on the way to the hill, and the priests should smoke the pipe as she was leaving; that the fourth time she should stop she would transform herself. The ten chiefs lighted the pipe, and as they were smoking the woman went away, then stopped and looked back. Again she went on, and looked back. Again she stopped and looked back, and the fourth time she stopped and looked back she turned toward the hill and ran, and she transformed herself into a splendid fiveyear-old buffalo, then disappeared in the hills. Now the chiefs assembled and held a council, so as to establish rules regulating the keeping of the pipe. They selected the best chief to hold the pipe. During the ceremony of the pipe he was to relate exactly the story that the woman had told when she brought the pipe to the camp, nor might he deviate from or leave out any of her words. While the chiefs were still in council they

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secured a wrapper for the pipe, also all the sticks that were necessary for use with the pipe, all made by maidens. The pipe was then raised high aloft in the midst of the council lodge. The pipe was cared for with great reverence. No unclean woman might approach it. A few days after the pipe had been brought, there was a quarrel within the camp in which two people were killed. In accordance with the woman’s command, they cut the ear from one and tied it on the pipe-stem, together with the scalp, and that ear and that scalp are on the pipe to this day. The same sticks that were made by the ancient people, as also the covering of buffalo hair, are still with the ancient pipe, which is said to be nine hundred years old. This pipe is now kept by an old Sioux chief who lives at the Cheyenne Agency, South Dakota, and who is about ninety-three years old. They say that when he dies he will have been the last man to hold the pipe; that he is to go to the grave with the pipe. There have been offerings made to this pipe by different tribes, such as bracelets, earrings, rings, arrows, brushes, stones, and various other trinkets being given to the pipe alone, all of which are kept with the pipe. They say that whenever in need or hungry, the buffalo gone, they go to work and call the ten best men in, who go and plead to the pipe, having unwrapped it, and that within from one to three days thereafter they receive all that they pray for. Since the scattering of the tribe, in times of peace the pipe is held as peacemaker, and hence is sometimes called the “pipe of peace;” but the people call it the “calf pipe,” for the woman who brought it transformed herself into a buffalo, and the pipe coming from her must therefore be a calf. General Custer swore by this pipe that he was not going to fight the Indians any more. But the very next summer he met death, for he disregarded the oath he had made to the pipe. He who swears by the pipe and breaks oath, comes to destruction, and his whole family dies, or sickness comes upon them.

THE WOMAN WITH A BEAR LOVER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Wissler, Clark. “Some Dakota Myths II.” Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 195–96. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Ogalala Lakota (Sioux) National Origin: Native American

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See the Omaha myth “The Rolling Skull” (Vol. I, p. 239) for a similar pursuit by the head of a vengeful relative. The “Obstacle Flight” tale type (AT313 and 314)—in which victims throw objects (in this case a whetstone) behind them that are magically transformed into obstacles (here, a mountain)—is cross-culturally distributed.

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nce there was a man who lived alone with his three children and his young wife. One day, when the man returned from deer hunting, he found the children cooking bear’s flesh. The next day, when he returned, he found them again cooking bear. Then he thought to him-self, “I wonder how they kill these bears. The next time I shall watch.” So the next day he made ready as if to go deer hunting, but as soon as he got into the brush he concealed himself and waited. In a little while he saw his young wife come out of the tipi with an axe on her back and walk toward the woods. As she went along, she struck the trees with her axe until she came to one that sounded hollow. When she struck on this a bear came out of the top, sprang to the ground, and after caressing the woman had sexual relations with her. Then the woman arose from the ground and killed him with the axe. After the man saw what had happened, he went on with his hunting. When he returned he found his children cooking bear as before. He told the children not to eat any of the meat. His purpose was to make the woman eat all of it. Then he told his wife to eat. At last she said, “I have enough now.” The man did not listen to her but took up the meat and forced it all down her throat until she died. Then the man said, “Now children, you are to go back to your father [the bear].” He gave them the skin of an oriole and a whetstone. Then he sent them out to look for their father. “Go home,” he said, “you do not belong here.” So the children started on their way. While they were going they heard a little thing coming after them. They looked around and saw their mother’s head rolling along. “Where are you going?” said the head to the children. The children were afraid and made no reply, but went on as fast as they could. They cried when the head was about to overtake them.

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One of the children threw down the whetstone, and it turned into a very high mountain. This mountain separated the children from their mother’s head. When the head came to the foot of the mountain, a snake came along and the head said to it, “Grandfather, make a hole through this mountain for me. If you will make a hole through this mountain for me I will give you some scrapings from a buffalo-hide.” So the snake bored a hole through the mountain. When the head had rolled through to the other side, it turned upon the snake and said, “No, I will not give you anything.” Then the head took the snake and pulled it in two. Then the head went on in pursuit of the children, who were very tired. At last they went up into a tree to rest. The head came to the foot of the tree, looked up and saw the children at the top. The head called to them, “My children, I have very hard times; come down and go home with me.” The children did not come down. The head waited a while at the foot of the tree, and then said angrily, “If you do not come down I will punish you. I will crush you, I will pound you up fine.” Then the head began to shake the tree, and when the tree began to tremble a voice from above said to the children, “Take the bird’s nest you see near you and sit on it.” Just as the children got into the nest, the tree began to fall, but the wind carried the nest far off. At last the nest came to the ground, and the children got out and hurried on their way. Finally they came to a very large river. They looked back and saw the head still following them. Out in the river they saw something black moving along. When the head saw the children, it called out, “Now, I shall get you. You will drown.” The black object in the water was a boat with a man in it. When the man saw the children on the shore and the head pursuing, he called out to them, “My children, come here. I will kill your mother.” The children sprang into the water and swam to the boat. When they neared it, the man put out his oar and raised the children into the boat one after the other. The head rolled into the water and swam toward the boat also. The head said to the man, “Take me, too.” So the man put out his oar, and the head rolled up on it, but instead of lifting the head into the boat, the man swung the oar with all his might, and the head fell far out into the stream. Then he rowed out to where the head was floating and beat it under with his oar.

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The Plains and Plateau | Magical Flight

MAGICAL FLIGHT Tradition Bearer: Walter Mountain Chief Source: Knox, Robert H. “A Blackfoot Version of the Magical Flight.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 401–3. Date: 1921 Original Source: Blackfoot National Origin: Native American

The resemblance between this myth and the previous narrative (“The Woman with a Bear Lover,” p. 254) is obvious. The woman who takes a snake as a lover, like the mother in the previous tale, turns entirely against humankind, including her own family. The escape in the present myth, however, does not involve the change of ordinary objects into obstacles; rather, the brothers use supernatural power to transform themselves. The human-to-constellation transformation is a common Native American theme.

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nce there was a couple in the camps. The woman used to go after firewood and would return late carrying it on her back. Finally her husband discovered that she was accustomed to come back late and thought that he would secretly watch her. Next day when the woman went after wood again, the man followed just far enough behind to watch. After the woman had reached the place where she went to gather wood, she packed up a bundle and went to a standing hollow tree. When she reached it she tapped all around on the bark. The man was watching all the while. Suddenly a large rattle-snake crawled out of the tree and on reaching the ground appeared as a nice looking young man. In this guise it became the woman’s lover. When the husband saw this he understood why his wife had been so late in returning. Then he went home unseen and paid no further attention to her. The woman came home late as usual but the husband did not tell her what he had seen. The next morning the man rose early and went to the hollow tree he had seen in the woods. When he reached it he gave a few taps as a signal as his wife always did and the snake crawled out. When it had come part way out, the man

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took his knife and cut off its head, thus ending the snake’s life. The man then went back to camp, but he did not say that he had killed the snake. His wife asked him why he had gone out so early. He said it was of no importance; he had just gotten up early. They then ate their breakfast and the woman went out as usual for wood. When she reached the hollow tree and saw that her lover had been killed, she wept bitterly for the snake. She returned to the camp at once and her husband saw that she had been weeping. He then asked her if she had loved this fellow, and she replied, “Yes, certainly I do.” Her husband said, “Then you shall die with him,” and took his knife to cut off her head. After he had killed her, he left his camp and all the others left theirs. This woman had seven brothers who were away on the warpath and knew nothing of these happenings. Their sister’s lodge was still standing when they returned. They were tired and hungry when they came to the lodge. It was still in the condition the husband had left it, with provisions and bedding still inside. The brothers thought their sister and her husband had gone away on an errand or for a visit. Suddenly as they were sitting there, they heard their sister talking outside the tent. She said, “I am not alive now; I have been killed. Help yourselves to the dried bear meat; feed yourselves. Brothers, there is one thing I ask of you; do not watch me to see what I am doing, because I do not look as nice as I used to.” These boys did not know of the troubles of their sister. One day when she was scraping hides outside the tipi, the youngest of the seven brothers told another that he would peep through a hole and see how their sister looked. He peeped through the hole and saw her head flopping about the hide as it worked on it. “Oh, come and see for yourselves how horrible our sister looks,” he said to his brothers. So they looked and were all frightened. One day the seven brothers went hunting and when they had gone some distance, they sent their youngest brother back. His name was Breast-Chief. He went back alone. He was a sort of medicine man himself; when he neared the camp he turned himself into a small black bug. Then he went to the lodge and crawled in. There he saw his sister working on an elk hide. She was painting seven heads of hair on this hide and was talking to herself, saying, “The eldest boy’s head will be here, the second eldest will be here, the third will be here,” and so on till she came to Breast-Chief. When she came to him she said, “BreastChief’s head will be right here on this spot.” All the while Breast-Chief was watching and listening to every word his sister said. Then he disappeared. Then

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his sister said, “Oh, you silly bug. After you heard everything I said, you left. I am pretty sure you are Breast-Chief, Bug.” When he was out of sight he changed to a man again. At this time he met his brothers returning with deer meat. He said to them, “Brothers, our sister is making a robe of elk hide. She will kill all of us; then she will scalp us and put our scalps on the robe she is making.” He then told them of what he had seen her doing and what she had said. They all said, “Let us fool our sister. Let us tell her that we have gotten a huge quantity of deer meat and left it packed up far away on the last ridge from camp.” When they returned to camp they told her this story. The sister went after the meat and as soon as she had gone, they all ran away. They were already a long way off when she returned. She knew then that they had run away. Breast-Chief was in disguise at the lodge unseen by her. He heard his sister saying as she came into the lodge, “Oh, my, I miss those boys. I did not think that they would save their lives. Breast-Chief is the one I want to kill most.” When he heard this, he followed his brothers and told them what his sister had said. Before the boys had made their escape they had taken their sister’s paint, hide scraper, porcupine quills, and her awl. The woman looked for the boys, finally found their trail and followed them. She overtook them in a short time. The boys were frightened. Their sister said, “Ha, ha, you boys. Who will save your lives now? I shall kill every one of you.” One of the boys had the paint, which he spilled on the ground. When the woman reached the spilled paint, she said, “Well, they stole my paint and I must gather it again.” It took her a long time to gather it. Meanwhile the boys had run on again and had gotten a long way off. Then she started after them and overtook them in a short time. She said to them, “There is no hope that you will save your lives: I shall kill every one of you.” The boy who had the scraper threw it back to his sister, saying, “Here is your scraper, sister.” The woman saw where it dropped, but she had a hard time to find it. By this time the boys were a long way off again. Then the woman started after her brothers. In a little while she overtook them. The boy who had her awl threw it back to her, saying, “Here, sister, is your awl.” She stopped to pick it up but had a task to find it, and by that time the boys were far off again. She then started to pursue them and overtook them again, saying, “Now, brothers, I shall kill everyone of you.” One of the boys had her quills, which he scattered all over the ground. When the woman saw them scattered about, she was very angry and began to pick them up. When she had finished gathering

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them, she started after her brothers again. They were now far away as there had been many quills and it had taken a long time to gather them, but at last she overtook them. One of the boys said to his brothers, “I will tell you now, Brothers. Let us try to save our lives before she comes.” The eldest said, “All right; what shall we do? “ One of the boys said, “Let us turn ourselves into water.” But the others did not agree to this. They all said, “If we turn into water, people will drink us up.” Then the second brother said, “It would be better to turn ourselves into trees.” But the others did not think so, for they said the people would chop them down. The third said, “Let us turn into grass,” but the others did not like that, for they said people would burn them up. The fourth said, “It would be better to turn into rocks,” but the others said, “No, the people will gather us and heat us to use in their sweat houses; the women will also break us to make scrapers out of us.” The fifth said, “Let us turn into animals of some sort. We can then live, eat, walk, and see.” The others objected, “No, the Indians will kill and eat us.” The sixth said, “Let us turn into birds of some sort. Then we can fly about.” The others said, “No, the Indians will kill us just the same.” The seventh said, “I have the best idea. Let us leave the earth completely. We will go up into the sky and remain there for the rest of our lives; there we can show ourselves at night. The people will then see us. Those that now see us and those that see us a thousand years from now may die, but we shall be seen forever. The people will look up at night and say, ‘Look in the sky and see the seven,’ and we shall be talked about forever.” When he said this, the brothers all liked it. Then they said, “The next thing is, how can we get up to the sky?” One of these boys had magic power; he said to his brothers, “There is no doubt that we can get up to the sky; we shall be there in a little while.” He took out a plume, which he carried and held it up in both hands, telling his brothers to look at the plume. When they did so, he told them to close their eyes. He blew on the plume and it rose through the air. And as it went up, they all went up with it. While they were going up, their sister arrived at the place where they had been. She said, “It is too bad that Breast-Chief saved his life.” When the brothers arrived in the sky they sat in separate places as you see them now. Breast-Chief, the youngest, sits at the lowest place of the seven stars (the Great Dipper).

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GHOST WIFE Tradition Bearer: George Bushotter Source: Bushotter, George, and J. Owen Dorsey. “A Teton Dakota Ghost Story.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 71–72. Date: ca. 1888 Original Source: Dakota National Origin: Native American

This tale is a useful source for Dakota beliefs about the afterlife. The lodge was sealed to prevent the escape of the soul of the dead woman, in response to the concept that the souls of the dead linger in the area of their burials before departing for the world of the dead.

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n the olden time there was once a large village. The people were many because they killed the buffalo. When they camped for the night, a man used to go through the camp as a crier, saying, “There will be many buffalo. Be on the alert!” When they had gone in this manner for a long time, there was a young man who wished to marry a beautiful young girl, but as they said that he should not marry her unless he gave her father some horses, he became displeased and abandoned the tribe. Just as they struck the tents the next morning the young man found very fine horses, one of which he mounted, and thus he returned to the deserted camping site. He saw there a solitary lodge and, as night was coming on, he thought, “Well, perhaps I shall lie here, though it is not exactly suitable.” He approached the lodge, but he found that it had no entrance, and it was covered half way up all around with square pieces of sod. By and by, he managed to get inside. Four posts had been driven into the ground. He lighted a fire, and looked up. A burial scaffold was there! On the scaffold was a woman, around whose chest and back were rows of teeth of the female elk. She looked down, and immediately the young man recognized her. He dwelt with her for a long time, as she became his wife. At length, when he had almost starved to death, he thought, “Well, I will go to hunt a buffalo.” He did not speak aloud.

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And the ghost said, “You said that you were hungry. Mount your horse and ride back to the bluffs. By and by, when you meet some buffalo, rush in among them and shoot the fattest one. Bring the meat home, roast a piece on a stick, and serve me with my share before you eat.” He departed according to her instructions. He reached a valley, where he met a herd of buffalo. He made his horse run among them, killed one, cut up the body, and carried it home. He roasted the piece, as he had been commanded. Then the woman slipped down from the scaffold, alighting on her feet. Her leggins had rows of beadwork on them. The young man was alarmed, but the ghost said, “Fear me not.” The ghost knew what he thought before he could say a word. Then they said that they would go just as their mothers had gone, but the ghost woman said to him, “Let us pitch the tent during the day, and travel by night.” So they traveled at night. The woman walked with her head covered, never saying anything; her legs were invisible, and she made no noise as she walked. When the man thought about anything, the ghost knew all, though he did not speak of it. Therefore the ghosts know all things. The ghost knows when the wind will blow, and when there will be rain or heavy thunder clouds. The ghost is very glad when there is going to be a wind. And thus did the man and his ghost wife travel about, but the people did not find them; and finally the man himself became a ghost. It is said that the ghosts also live (and act) just as we do.

TWO FACES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Cheyenne Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 177–79. Date: 1899 Original Source: Cheyenne National Origin: Native American

The character known by various names such as “Two Faces” or “Double Face” appears among Native American Plains cultures other than the Algonquian Cheyenne—see, for example, the Wichita myths “The Two

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Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars” (p. 212), and “Origin of the Universe” (p. 135). The protagonist in this tale uses the cleverness and imitative skills reminiscent of a trickster to overcome the monster.

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early every night a child disappeared from a camp. A young man wondered who stole the babies. One dark night he said to himself, “I will watch tonight. I will watch every tent where the people are sleeping. If anyone takes a child to-night, I may hear it cry out.” So he watched the whole village, and looked outside. He found that the thief was Two-Faces, who had one face in front and one at the back of his head, so that he could look on both sides of him. The young man found him fast asleep. Near him were many dead babies that he had stolen. Most of them had their ears cut off, and Two-Faces had a long string of ears on a line, for he lived on human ears. The young man ran to the river and looked for shells. He gathered a great number of shells, which looked almost like human ears, and strung them, and bloodied them. Then he cut a piece of meat, and shaped it like an ear. When TwoFaces awoke, he saw a person sitting near him eating an ear. It was this young man eating the meat. Two-Faces asked him where he learned to eat ears. The man said to him, “I live on ears. I always steal children and cut off their ears. The only thing that I am afraid of is that if I eat salt, it will kill me.” Then Two-Faces said, “I should at once die if anyone beat a gourd and fat was thrown in the fire.” When night came, they both went to the camp. The young man then told Two-Faces to wait for him; he would go ahead. Then he went to his friends and told them to prepare. He was bringing Two-Faces, who had stolen all the children. He directed that a gourd be beaten and fat meat thrown at the fire. So at last they succeeded in killing Two-Faces. Then he was burned.

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THE WEST

Introduction

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or the purposes of the present collection, that which is designated “the West” will be restricted to California, Nevada, and the islands of Hawaii. The narratives that follow will be grouped according to the same categories established for the other regions of the United States.Although Hawaiian narratives will be presented along with those from continental California and Nevada, the discussion of Hawaiian environmental, historical, and cultural features will be discussed separately. This treatment seems appropriate for several reasons. California and Nevada span the spectrum of geographic and climactic features in the forty-eight contiguous states, while Hawaii is the only state located entirely in the tropics. More importantly, perhaps, the historical events that shaped the forty-eight contiguous states from the fifteenth through the nineteenth centuries—the Civil War and the westward migration, for example—had no impact on the islands.

California and Nevada

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eographically, Nevada encompasses much of the Great Basin and a portion of the Mojave Desert, giving this state the most arid climate in the United States. California has its own arid sections, but extends to the Pacific Ocean and contains rivers, fertile valleys, and forests. The extremes of climate and topography gave rise to an indigenous population that, because of its adaptations to the varied ecological niches, was the most culturally diverse of all Native North America.


At one extreme of the pre-European contact cultures were groups such as the Chumash who took full advantage of the abundant material resources for constructing dwellings, tools, and boats, and who also took full advantage of the maritime and terrestrial food resources provided by the ocean, rivers, meadows, and forests. The Chumash and other groups who followed similar lifestyles relied on a plentiful supply of salmon, other fish, and, on the Pacific coast, sea mammals. Inland, they hunted large mammals and gathered plant foods: berries, nuts, and, like much of native California acorns. This plentiful and easily accessible food supply allowed the Chumash a prosperous existence in permanently settled villages, the accumulation of surplus goods and foodstuffs, and the development of a hierarchical society—a chiefdom—with a lower tier of craftspersons, a second tier of religious specialists and, at the top, a bureaucratic class. At the other extreme were band-level societies such as the Luiseño who, like other Native Californians that greeted the first Europeans, were thought to have migrated into southern California from the Great Basin. The name Luiseño was imposed on the group by the Spanish. The case of Saboba is representative: they were a band of the Luiseño, nomads who foraged for plants, nuts, small animals, and even insect pupae. Despite a relatively simple lifestyle— compared to the Chumash—they led a rich spiritual life, exercising supernatural power and superhuman feats such as “eating” fire and walking on hot coals (see “How the Saboba People Came to California,” p. 289, for insights into their worldview). The Mono, a seasonally nomadic group in central California, reflected a different image of the world via myths featuring their trickster Coyote in confrontation with their culture hero Prairie Falcon (see “Coyote and His Sister Robin,” p. 367). The Spanish were the most important European influence in the region from their establishment of New Spain until the granting of Mexican independence in 1821. For most of this period, there was only minor Spanish interference with Native American culture. In the late 1700s, however, a system of Spanish missions was set up throughout what became the modern state of California. These missions ultimately led to the dissolution of the hundreds of small independent bands in the region. The very diversity and independence that characterized the groups prior to European contact led to their demise in confrontation with programmatic Spanish occupation. Upon gaining independence from Spain in 1821, Mexico abandoned the mission system, but this was too late for the indigenous peoples. Mexican domination of the area was short-lived, though, as immigration from the East quickly progressed from a trickle to flood-like proportions after gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill in Coloma, California, in 1848, the same

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year as the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo surrendered the territory to the United States as one of the terms for the the cessation of the hostilities of the Mexican War. The West became subjected to many of the same pressures after the Civil War that were noted for the Plains and Plateau and Southwest Regions (see Introductions to these regions, pp. 3 and 131). For purposes of the present folktale collection, the most relevant of these was the increased stress placed on the Native American populations of the Plains who attended to the message of the Paiute prophet Wovoka and his Ghost Dance Religion, which lasted from 1899 to 1891. Included here is a personal experience narrative of one of the Plains converts to the religion, “Meeting with Wovoka” (p. 361).

Hawai’i

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awai’i is a group of islands that comprise the southernmost State in the United States. All of the Hawaiian Islands were formed by volcanoes arising from the sea floor. This geographic feature and the ecology associated with it has had a profound effect on the narrative tradition and on the pantheon of traditional gods and godesses. For example, “Pele’s Long Sleep” (p. 353) portrays an episode from the mythology of the deity associated with volcanoes and features of the environment caused by volcanic activity, while “Legend of the Breadfruit Tree” (p. 292) focuses on the deification of a distinctive species of tropical vegetation. Anthropologists speculate that the islands were settled by at least two important waves of Polynesian explorers over the period of 300 CE to 1300 CE. Politically, the islands were ruled by local chiefs until warfare enlarged the provinces of these local rulers into networks of villages, which became the complex society that British Captain James Cook encountered in 1778. Claims to legitimacy by the various local rulers led to the development of extensive lineages recorded in the oral traditions of the Native Hawai’ians. These oral histories were commonly preserved in chants and dance songs. Elements of these poetic renderings are preserved in the reframed versions of the myths and legends collected in this volume.

SUGGESTED READINGS Beckwith, Martha Warren. Hawaiian Mythology. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940.

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Dixon, Roland B. Oceanic Mythology. Boston: Marshall Jones, 1916. ———. “Some Coyote Stories from the Maidu Indians of California” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 270. Gayton, A. H., and Stanley S. Newman. Yokuts and Western Mono Myths. Millwood, NY: Kraus, 1976. Gibson, Robert O. The Chumash. New York: Chelsea House, 1991. Kawaharada, Dennis. Ancient Oahu: Stories from Fornander and Thrum. Honolulu: Kalamaku Press, 2001. Kroeber, Alfred L. Handbook of the Indians of California. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 78. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1925. Stewart, Omer C. The Northern Paiute Bands. Millwood, NY: Kraus, 1976. Strong, William D. University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology. Vol. 26, Aboriginal Society in Southern California. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1929.

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ORIGINS

SILVER FOX CREATES THE WORLD AND HUMANS Tradition Bearer: Charley Snook Source: Dixon, Roland B. “Achomawi and Atsugewi Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 159–61. Date: ca. 1900 Original Source: Achomawi National Origin: Native American

The Achomawi were hunters and gatherers with territory that stretched from northern California to the Oregon border. In the winter they lived in “pit houses,” rectangular excavations topped by rafters and covered in grass. Silver-Fox, as detailed in the following myth, was their benevolent creator with the power to bring phenomena into existence by the power of thought. Silver-Fox set the model for proper moral conduct. Despite the use of the sweat lodge, the Achomawi did not have a highly developed ritual cycle.

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n the beginning all was water. In all directions the sky was clear and unobstructed. A cloud formed in the sky, grew lumpy, and turned into Coyote. Then a fog arose, grew lumpy, and became Silver-Fox. They became persons.


Then they thought. They thought a canoe, and they said, “Let us stay here, let us make it our home.” Then they floated about, for many years they floated; and the canoe became old and mossy, and they grew weary of it. “Do you go and lie down,” said Silver-Fox to Coyote, and he did so. While he slept, Silver-Fox combed his hair, and the combings he saved. When there was much of them, he rolled them in his hands, stretched them out, and flattened them between his hands. When he had done this, he laid them upon the water and spread them out, till they covered all the surface of the water. Then he thought, “There should be a tree,” and it was there. And he did the same way with shrubs and with rocks, and weighted the film down with stones, so that the film did not wave and rise in ripples as it floated in the wind. And thus he made it, that it was just right, this that was to be the world. And then the canoe floated gently up to the edge, and it was the world. Then he cried to Coyote, “Wake up! We are going to sink!” And Coyote woke, and looked up; and over his head, as he lay, hung cherries and plums; and from the surface of the world he heard crickets chirping. And at once Coyote began to eat the cherries and the plums, and the crickets also. After a time Coyote said, “Where are we? What place is this that we have come to?” And Silver-Fox replied, “I do not know. We are just here. We floated up to the shore.” Still all the time he knew; but he denied that he had made the world. He did not want Coyote to know that the world was his creation. Then Silver-Fox said, “What shall we do? Here is solid ground. I am going ashore, and am going to live here.” So they landed, and built a sweat-house and lived in it. They thought about making people; and after a time, they made little sticks of service-berry, and they thrust them all about into the roof of the house on the inside. And by and by all became people of different sorts, birds and animals and fish, all but the deer, and he was as the deer are today. And Pine-Marten was the chief of the people; and Eagle was the woman chief, for she was Pine-Marten’s sister. And this happened at Ila’texcagewa. And people went out to hunt from the sweat-house. And they killed deer, and brought them home, and had plenty to eat. Arrows with pine-bark points were what they used then, it is said, for there was no obsidian. And GroundSquirrel, of all the people, he only knew where obsidian could be found. So he went to steal it. To Medicine Lake he went, for there Obsidian-OldMan lived, in a big sweat-house. And Ground-Squirrel went in, taking with him roots in a basket of tules. And he gave the old man some to eat; and he liked them so much, that he sent Ground-Squirrel out to get more.

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But while he was digging them Grizzly-Bear came, and said, “Sit down! Let me sit in your lap. Feed me those roots by handfuls.” So Ground-Squirrel sat down, and fed Grizzly-Bear as he had asked, for he was afraid. Then Grizzly-Bear said, “Obsidian-Old-Man’s mother cleaned roots for someone,” and went away. Ground-Squirrel went back to the sweat-house, but had few roots, for Grizzly-Bear had eaten so many. Then he gave them to the old man, and told him what the bear had said about him, and how he had robbed him of the roots. Then Obsidian-Old-Man was angry. “Tomorrow we will go,” he said. Then they slept. In the morning they ate breakfast early and went off, and the old man said that Ground-Squirrel should go and dig more roots, and that he would wait, and watch for Grizzly-Bear. So Ground-Squirrel went and dug; and when the basket was filled, Grizzly-Bear came, and said, “You have dug all these for me. Sit down!” So Ground-Squirrel sat down, and fed Grizzly-Bear roots by the handful. But Obsidian-Old-Man had come near. And Grizzly-Bear got up to fight, and he struck at the old man; but he turned his side to the blow, and Grizzly-Bear merely cut off a great slice of his own flesh. And he kept on fighting, till he was all cut to pieces, and fell dead. Then GroundSquirrel and Obsidian-Old-Man went home to the sweat-house, and built a fire, and ate the roots, and were happy. Then the old man went to sleep. In the morning Obsidian-Old-Man woke up, and heard Ground-Squirrel groaning. He said, “I am sick. I am bruised because that great fellow sat upon me. Really, I am sick.” Then Obsidian-Old-Man was sorry, but Ground-Squirrel was fooling the old man. After a while the old man said, “I will go and get wood. I’ll watch him, for perhaps he is fooling me. These people are very clever.” Then he went for wood; and he thought as he went, “I had better go back and look.” So he went back softly, and peeped in; but Ground-Squirrel lay there quiet, and groaned, and now and then he vomited up green substances. Then Obsidian-Old-Man thought, “He is really sick,” and he went off to get more wood; but GroundSquirrel was really fooling, for he wanted to steal obsidian. When the old man had gotten far away, Ground-Squirrel got up, poured out the finished obsidian points, and pulled out a knife from the wall, did them up in a bundle, and ran off with them. When the old man came back, he carried a heavy load of wood; and as soon as he entered the sweat-house, he missed Ground-Squirrel. So he dropped the wood and ran after him. He almost caught him, when Ground-Squirrel ran into a hole, and, as he went, kicked the earth into the eyes of the old man, who dug fast, trying to catch him. Soon GroundSquirrel ran out of the other end of the hole; and then the old man gave chase

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again, but again Ground-Squirrel darted into a hole; and after missing him again, Obsidian-Old-Man gave up, and went home. Ground-Squirrel crossed the river and left his load of arrow-points, and came back to the house and sat down in his seat. He and Cocoon slept together. Then his friend said, “Where have you been?” And Ground-Squirrel replied, “I went to get a knife and to get good arrowpoints. We had none.” Then the people began to come back with deer. And when they cooked their meat, they put it on the fire in lumps; but GroundSquirrel and Cocoon cut theirs in thin slices, and so cooked it nicely. And Weasel saw this, and they told him about how the knife had been secured. In the morning Ground-Squirrel went and brought back the bundle of points he had hidden, and handed it down through the smoke-hole to Wolf. Then he poured out the points on the ground and distributed them to everyone, and all day long people worked, tying them onto arrows. So they threw away all the old arrows with bark points; and when they went hunting, they killed many deer.

CREATION OF MAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “Creation of Man.” Pages 71–75 in Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu. Boston: G. H. Ellis Press, 1915. Date: 1915 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

In her study of Hawaiian mythology, folklorist Martha Warren Beckwith notes that, unlike other Pacific traditions, Hawaiian myth does not devote itself to the development of the cosmos prior to the arrival of human beings. Traditional Hawaiian narrative did not make the same sorts of distinctions between myths and legends or folktales as does contemporary folkloristics. The primary distinctions are kaao (fictional) and moolelo (historical, true). Therefore, that which contemporary scholars label myth is moolelo. Myths are distinguished from legend,

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anecdote, and other personal experience narratives by the manner of performance. Turning again to Beckwith, “Sacred stories are told only by day and the listeners must not move in front of the speaker; to do so would be highly disrespectful to the gods” (1940: 1) Much Hawaiian myth is embodied in long epic poems or shorter chants associated with other activities, such as dance, for example. The collector of the following myth, W. D. Westervelt, notes that the first “half” is likely to be an indigenous narrative, while the creation of woman is clearly influenced by Biblical accounts of creation brought to the islands by Europeans.

T

he sky is established. The earth is established. Fastened and fastened, Always holding together, Entangled in obscurity, Near each other a group of islands Spreads out like a flock of birds. Leaping up are the divided places. Lifted far up are the heavens. Polished by striking, Lamps rest in the sky. Presently the clouds move, The great sun rises in splendor, Mankind arises to pleasure, The moving sky is above.

Hawaiian Chant

K

u, Ka-ne, Lono, and Kanaloa were the first gods made. The gods had come from far-off unknown lands. They brought with them the mysterious people who live in precipices and trees and rocks. These were the invisible spirits of the air. The earth was a calabash. The gods threw the calabash cover upward and it became the sky. Part of the thick “flesh” became the sun. Another part was the moon. The stars came from the seeds.

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The gods went over to a small island called Mokapu, and thought they would make man to be chief over all other things. Mololani was the crater hill that forms the little island. On the sunrise side of this hill, near the sea, was the place where red dirt lay mixed with dark blue and black soil. Here Ka-ne scratched the dirt together and made the form of a man. Kanaloa ridiculed the mass of dirt and made a better form, but it did not have life. Ka-ne said, “You have made a dirt image; let it become stone.” Then Ka-ne ordered Ku and Lono to carefully obey his directions. They were afraid he would kill them, so at once they caught one of the spirits of the air and pushed it into the image Ka-ne had made. When the spirit had been pushed into the body, Ka-ne stood by the image and called, “Hiki au-E-ola! E-ola!” (“I come, live! Live!”) Ku and Lono responded “Live! Live!” Then Ka-ne called again, “I come, awake! Awake!” and the other two responded, “Awake! Awake!” and the image became a living man. Then Ka-ne cried, “I come, arise! Arise!” The other gods repeated, “Arise! Arise!” and the image stood up—a man with a living spirit. They named him Wela-ahi-lani-nui, or “The great heaven burning hot.” They chanted, giving the divine signs attending the birth of a chief: “The stars were burning. Hot were the months. Land rises in islands, High surf is like mountains, Pele throws out her body (of lava). Broken masses of rain from the sky, The land is shaken by earthquakes, Ikuwa reverberates with thunder.” The gods took this man to their home and nourished him. When he became strong he went out to walk around the home of the gods. Soon he noticed a shadow going around with his body. It walked when he walked, and rested when he rested. He wondered what this thing was, and called it “aka,” or “shadow.” When he slept, Ku, Ka-ne and Lono tore open his body, and Ka-ne took out a woman, leaving Kill and Lono to heal the body. Then they put the woman by the side of the man and they were alike. Wela-ahi-lani-nui woke and found a beautiful one lying by him, and thought: “This is that thing which has been by my side, my aka. The gods have changed it into this beautiful one.” So he gave her the name “Ke-aka-huli-lani”

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(The-heaven-changed-shadow). These were the ancestors of the Hawaiians and all the peoples of the islands of the great ocean.

THE MAKING OF THE WORLD Tradition Bearer: Molly Kinsman Pimona Source: Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 305–6. Date: 1918 Original Source: Western Mono (California) National Origin: Native American

The Mono were a hunters and gatherers society that moved throughout the Mono Basin region of California, pursuing the staples of their subsistence, which ranged from fly pupae to pinon nuts to jackrabbits and antelope. The following creation myth exemplifies the “Earth-diver” tale type. The narrative also suggests the power of dreams, or visions, in this culture.

I

n the beginning, Prairie Falcon and Crow were sitting on a log which projected above the waters that covered the world. They asked Duck of what number he had dreamed, and he replied, “Two.” Prairie Falcon assigned him the number three, and instructed him to dive into the water and bring up some sand from the bottom. Duck dived to get the sand, but, before he reached the bottom, the three days allotted him expired. He awoke from his dream, died as a result, and floated to the surface. Prairie Falcon, however, brought him back to life and asked him what the trouble was. Duck replied that he had come out of his dream and had consequently died and floated to the top. Prairie Falcon now asked Coot of what number he had dreamed. Coot replied, “Four.” Then Prairie Falcon assigned him two and ordered him to dive for sand. Before Coot had reached the bottom, however, the two days had

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elapsed and he came out of his dream. He, too, died in consequence, and his body floated to the surface of the waters. Prairie Falcon espied the corpse, recovered it, and resuscitated Coot. He inquired of Coot what had been his difficulty. Coot replied that he had passed out of his dream. Grebe was the next individual whom Prairie Falcon interrogated as to the number he had dreamed of. Grebe replied that he had dreamed of five. Prairie Falcon arbitrarily assigned him four as the number of days that he should take in securing sand from beneath the waters. Prairie Falcon then ordered him to dive. Grebe was successful and secured sand in each hand, having gone clear to the bottom of the waters. As he was returning to the surface, he passed out of his dream state, died, and floated to the surface. Prairie Falcon resuscitated him and inquired if he had secured any sand. Grebe replied that he had and Prairie Falcon inquired what he had done with it. Grebe explained that it had all slipped from his grasp when he died. Prairie Falcon and Crow both laughed at him and said that they did not believe it. Then they examined his hands and found sand under the finger nails of both. They took that sand and threw it in every direction. That is what made the world.

THE CREATION OF THE INDIANS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 157–59. Date: 1915 Original Source: Moapa (Southern Paiute) National Origin: Native American

Historically, the Southern Paiute were divided into small bands that foraged for wild plant foods, such as seeds and pine nuts, and hunted small game in the Nevada area in which they lived. Where water was available, the women cultivated corn, squash, pumpkins, muskmelons, beans, and sunflowers. Brush shelters served as their dwellings. While

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the disjointed plot (according to European criteria) of this myth is not unusual in such traditional narratives, the narrative may have become memory culture as distinct from an active sacred narrative.

L

ong ago an old woman, named Co’tsi’pama’pot, made the whole country. No one lived here at all anywhere except this old woman, her son, and her daughter. The entire country was flooded with water except one little spot where Co’tsi’pama’pot stayed. At last she scattered earth all over, seed-fashion. Then she sent her daughter to see how much land there was. When the girl came back, she said, “It is not enough yet.” Her mother kept sending her, and the girl always came back reporting that there was not yet enough. At last the girl went a great distance and when she came back she said there was now enough land. The old woman said, “See whether you can find some people, look everywhere, go up to the mountains, and see.” So the girl went and looked everywhere but she saw nothing. The old woman said to her, “I don’t think you looked very much.” So she went again and found just one man. She traversed the entire country in a very short time. She returned and told her mother, “I have found only one man.”—“Well, that will be well, get him.” The girl went to the man and said, “My mother wants you to come to where we live.” He agreed to come. Co’tsi’pama’pot lived in the middle of a wide stretch of water. The girl laid a stick across from the shore and walked ahead. When she was nearly across, she tipped the stick so as to topple the man into the water, but he flew up, unseen by her, and reached camp first. When the girl arrived, she told her mother, “I called him and he was drowned.” She had one lodge while her mother lived in another. Her mother said, “That man is in your lodge.” The girl did not know that he had flown there. Co’tsi’pama’pot made deer, cottontail rabbits, bears, antelope, and every kind of animal out of mud, threw them off and bade them take to the mountains. She said to her daughter, “You had better stay with him, you can’t find anyone else, keep him for a husband.” So the man and the girl lay together, but the man, though eager to possess her, was afraid.

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The old woman said to him, “Since you can do nothing with her, you had better go to get some deer; kill it and bring the first vertebra.” The man went off, killed a deer, and brought the first, hard vertebra. “Well,” said Co’tsi’pama’pot, “you had better use this, don’t let her see this. This may fix it, perhaps she will bite it, then you can have your will of her.” Night fell. He took the vertebra and put it by his penis. The girl had a toothed vagina, but the teeth could not bite the bone and broke off. Then he had his will of her and she bit no more. He lay with her every night now. After a while the young woman was big with child. Her mother made a big sack and into this the daughter dropped her children so that the bag was full of them. Co’tsi’pama’pot said to the man, “You had better take this bag to the center of the world. Don’t open it till you get there, no matter what noise you may hear from within.” So the man set out with the sack and went on. After a while his load grew heavy and he heard a noise inside. He thought he would like to see the inside. He took off the bag, sat down and listened to the noise. He was eager to see what it was. At last he opened the bag and saw nothing. The babies got out and scattered all over the country. Most of them escaped. When he tied up the sack again, there were only a few left. He sat down and gave tribal names to the different babies. “You go up there, you shall be called by such a name, and so forth. To those few that remained at the bottom he said, “these are my people.” All the babies in the sack were Indians. The man had a long stone knife and an awl of hard bone. He had a rabbit skin blanket wide enough for two to sleep under. He had nothing with which to start fire, except a rock on which he would place his food. After a while he saw ashes falling down. “Where did this come from?” He sent several men far up, but they could see no fire anywhere. Others went higher still, and yet they could find no fire. Finally one of them went higher still and reported, “It looks like fire over there.” “Well, I think we had better all go and get that fire by gambling or some other way.” He got all of them to come with him. They went to the people who had fire and gambled with them. Before daylight he took a piece of bark, tied it round his head, stuck it into the fire, and then ran off. The people who owned the fire ran after him, but did not catch him. Then he took some root and said, “Make fire out of this.” So he made fire from it, and after a while he threw away the rock he had used to cook on. He cooked seeds in the fire now. He named all the hills and waters and rocks and bushes, so that people knew what to call them. He was the first to name them.

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After a while the people who had come from the sack fought among themselves. Co’tsi’pama’pot, the old woman who made the earth, is still living. She made all the tribes speak different languages. She saw what all the people were doing. When Indians died they went to her, and she made new ones. People did not know where the dead went to; we don’t know it, but she knows it all. Cuna’waBi had a brother, ToBa’ts. He thought that somebody should kill him and somebody killed him. ToBa’ts left a small package. Cuna’waBi untied it, and after a while he could see nothing there. It suddenly became dark. He groped about, found some feathers, and threw them up to the sky; then it was daylight and the sun shone. He tried several feathers, and one of them made the Sun. When it was day, he heard his brother crying and started to look for him. Cuna’waBi made all kinds of sickness by thinking that people should be sick. He called the different mountains and everything else by distinct names. The Mu’qwits tribe used to live here and moved away a long time ago. After a while the white people came here. The old woman gave people all kinds of seed to eat. She thought of the seeds and the people went to the place she pointed out and would find the seeds and eat them. “Live on this, boys,” she would say; “this is yours to eat.” All the birds, big and small, talked Indian once. Duck was a doctor long ago. When a boy was sick, his relatives sent for Duck and gave him a spoon for fee. Duck said, “I’d better try the spoon for my nose. This is all right.” He put it on his nose and so he has it now on his face.

A GIANT’S ROCK-THROWING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “A Giant’s Rock-Throwing.” Hawaiian Legends of Ghosts and Ghost-Gods. Boston: Ellis Press, 1916. Date: 1916 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

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Both myth and legend have been used to explain features of the environment. This legend of a Hawaiian Hercules explains the origin of a geological feature the Rock of Kauai, while offering a cautionary tale about the discrete use of one’s natural gifts.

A

long time ago there lived on Kauai a man of wonderful power, Hau-pu. When he was born, the signs of a demigod were over the house of his birth. Lightning flashed through the skies, and thunder reverberated— a rare event in the Hawaiian Islands, and supposed to be connected with the birth or death or some very unusual occurrence in the life of a chief. Mighty floods of rain fell and poured in torrents down the mountainsides, carrying the red iron soil into the valleys in such quantities that the rapids and the waterfalls became the color of blood, and the natives called this a blood-rain. During the storm, and even after sunshine filled the valley, a beautiful rainbow rested over the house in which the young chief was born. This rainbow was thought to come from the miraculous powers of the new-born child shining out from him instead of from the sunlight around him. Many chiefs throughout the centuries of Hawaiian legends were said to have had this rainbow around them all their lives. Hau-pu while a child was very powerful, and after he grew up was widely known as a great warrior. He would attack and defeat armies of his enemies without aid from any person. His spear was like a mighty weapon, sometimes piercing a host of enemies, and sometimes putting aside all opposition when he thrust it into the ranks of his opponents. If he had thrown his spear and if fighting with his bare hands did not vanquish his foes, he would leap to the hillside, tear up a great tree, and, with it, sweep away all before him as if he were wielding a huge broom. He was known and feared throughout all the Hawaiian Islands. He became angry quickly and used his great powers very rashly. One night he lay sleeping in his royal rest-house on the side of a mountain, which faced the neighboring island of Oahu. Between the two islands lay a broad channel about thirty miles wide. When clouds were on the face of the sea these islands were hidden from each other; but when they lifted the rugged valleys of the mountains on one island could be clearly seen from the other. Even by moonlight the shadowy lines would appear.

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This night the strong man stirred in his sleep. Indistinct noises seemed to surround his house. He turned over and dropped off into slumber again. Soon he was aroused a second time, and he was awake enough to hear shouts of men far far away. Louder rose the noise mixed with the roar of the great surf waves, so he realized that it came from the sea, and he then forced himself to rise and stumble to the door. He looked out toward Oahu. A multitude of lights were flashing on the sea before his sleepy eyes. A low murmur of many voices came from the place where the dancing lights seemed to be. His confused thoughts made it appear to him that a great fleet of warriors was coming from Oahu to attack his people. He blindly rushed out to the edge of a high precipice, which overlooked the channel. Evidently many boats and many people were out in the sea below. He laughed, and stooped down and tore a huge rock from its place. This he swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until he gave it great impetus, which, added to his own miraculous power, sent it far out over the sea. Like a great cloud it rose in the heavens and, as if blown by swift winds, sped on its way. Over on the shores of Oahu a chief whose name was Kaena had called his people out for a night’s fishing. Canoes large and small came from all along the coast. Torches without number had been made and placed in the canoes. The largest fish-nets had been brought. There was no need of silence. Nets had been set in the best places. Fish of all kinds were to be aroused and frightened into the nets. Flashing lights, splashing paddles, and clamor from hundreds of voices resounded all around the nets. Gradually the canoes came nearer and nearer the centre. The shouting increased. Great joy ruled the tumult, which drowned the roar of the waves. Across the channel and up the mountain-sides of Kauai swept the shouts of the fishing-party. Into the ears of drowsy Hau-pu the noise forced itself. Little dreamed the excited fishermen of the effect of this on far-away Kauai. Suddenly something like a bird as large as a mountain seemed to be above, and then with a mighty sound like the roar of winds it descended upon them. Smashed and submerged were the canoes when the huge boulder thrown by Haupu hurled itself upon them. The chief Kaena and his canoe were in the centre of this terrible mass of wreckage, and he and many of his people lost their lives. The waves swept sand upon the shore until in time a long point of land was formed. The remaining followers of the dead chief named this cape “Kaena.” The rock thrown by Hau-pu embedded itself in the depths of the ocean, but its head rose far above the water, even when raging storms dashed turbulent waves against it. To this death-dealing rock the natives gave the name “Rock of Kauai.”

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Thus, for generations has the deed of the man of giant force been remembered on Oahu, and so have a cape and a rock received their names.

HOW MILU BECAME THE KING OF GHOSTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “How Milu Became the King of Ghosts.” Hawaiian Legends of Ghosts and Ghost-Gods. Boston: Ellis Press, 1916. Date: 1916 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

The myth of the way in which the healing arts were given to humanity explains many other phenomena as well. The ti plant is a member of the lily family and was considered sacred to both Lono, the healer, and also Laka, a goddess associated with dance. The plant was used as a symbol of high rank and divine power. Its roots were used for making liquor and as dressings for wounds; they were also eaten as a baked dessert and mixed with other herbs to make medicines. In some traditions it is common for one who is healed of serious illness to become healer, as happens in this narrative. In addition, the myth details what happens when medicine fails and what one can expect in the afterlife.

L

ono was a chief living on the western side of the island Hawai’i. He had a very red skin and strange-looking eyes. His choice of occupation was farming. This man had never been sick. One time he was digging with a long spade. A man passed and admired him. The people said, “Lono has never been sick.” The man said, “He will be sick.” Lono was talking about that man and at the same time struck his spade down with force and cut his foot. Lono shed much blood, and fainted, falling to

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the ground. A man took a pig, went after the stranger, and let the pig go, which ran to the stranger. The stranger was Kamaka, a god of healing. He turned and went back at the call of the messenger, taking some popolo fruit and leaves in his cloak. When he came to the injured man he asked for salt, which he pounded into the fruit and leaves and placed in coco cloth and bound it on the wound, leaving it a long time. Then he went away. As he journeyed on he heard heavy breathing, and turning saw Lono, who said, “You have helped me, and so I have left my lands in the care of my friends, directing them what to do, and have hastened after you to learn how to heal other people.” The god said, “Lono, open your mouth!” This Lono did, and the god spat in his mouth, so that the saliva could be taken into every part of Lono’s body. Thus a part of the god became a part of Lono, and he became very skilful in the use of all healing remedies. He learned about the various diseases and the medicines needed for each. The god and Lono walked together, Lono receiving new lessons along the way, passing through the districts of Kau, Puna, Hilo, and then to Hamakua. The god said, “It is not right for us to stay together. You can never accomplish anything by staying with me. You must go to a separate place and give yourself up to healing people.” Lono turned aside to dwell in Waimanu and Waipio Valleys and there began to practice healing, becoming very noted, while the god Kamaka made his home at Ku-kui-haele. This god did not tell the other gods of the Medicines that he had taught Lono. One of the other gods, Kalae, was trying to find some way to kill Milu, and was always making him sick. Milu, chief of Waipio, heard of the skill of Lono. Some had been sick even to death, and Lono had healed them. Therefore Milu sent a messenger to Lono who responded at once, came and slapped Milu all over the body, and said: “You are not ill. Obey me and you shall be well.” Then he healed him from all the sickness inside the body caused by Kalae. But there was danger from outside, so he said: “You must build a ti-leaf house and dwell there quietly for some time, letting your disease rest. If a company should come by the house making sport, with a great noise, do not go out, because when you go they wilt come up and get you for your death. Do not open the ti leaves and look out. The day you do this you shall die.” Some time passed and the chief remained in the house, but one day there was the confused noise of many people talking and shouting around his house.

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He did not forget the command of Lono. Two birds were sporting in a wonderful way in the sky above the forest. This continued all day until it was dark. Then another long time passed and again Waipio was full of resounding noises. A great bird appeared in the sky resplendent in all kinds of feathers, swaying from side to side over the valley, from the top of one precipice across to the top of another, in grand flights passing over the heads of the people, who shouted until the valley re-echoed with the sound. Milu became tired of that great noise and could not patiently obey his physician, so he pushed aside some of the ti leaves of his house and looked out upon the bird. That was the time when the bird swept down upon the house, thrusting a claw under Milu’s arm, tearing out his liver. Lono saw this and ran after the bird, but it flew swiftly to a deep pit in the lava on one side of the valley and dashed inside, leaving blood spread on the stones. Lono came, saw the blood, took it and wrapped it in a piece of tapa cloth and returned to the place where the chief lay almost dead. He poured some medicine into the wound and pushed the tapa and blood inside. Milu was soon healed. The place where the bird hid with the liver of Milu is called to this day Keake-o-Milu (“The liver of Milu”). When this death had passed away he felt very well, even as before his trouble. Then Lono told him that another death threatened him and would soon appear. He must dwell in quietness. For some time Milu was living in peace and quiet after this trouble. Then one day the surf of Waipio became very high, rushing from far out even to the sand, and the people entered into the sport of surf-riding with great joy and loud shouts. This noise continued day by day, and Milu was impatient of the restraint and forgot the words of Lono. He went out to bathe in the surf. When he came to the place of the wonderful surf he let the first and second waves go by, and as the third came near he launched himself upon it while the people along the beach shouted uproariously. He went out again into deeper water, and again came in, letting the first and second waves go first. As he came to the shore the first and second waves were hurled back from the shore in a great mass against the wave upon which he was riding. The two great masses of water struck and pounded Milu, whirling and crowding him down, while the surfboard was caught in the raging, struggling waters and thrown out toward the shore. Milu was completely lost in the deep water. The people cried: “Milu is dead! The chief is dead!” The god Kalae thought he had killed Milu, so he with the other poison-gods went on a journey to Mauna Loa. Kapo and Pua, the poison-gods, or gods of death, of the island

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Maui, found them as they passed, and joined the company. They discovered a forest on Molokai, and there as kupua spirits, or ghost bodies, entered into the trees of that forest, so the trees became the kupua bodies. They were the medicinal or poison qualities in the trees. Lono remained in Waipio Valley, becoming the ancestor and teacher of all the good healing priests of Hawai’i, but Milu became the ruler of the Under-world, the place where the spirits of the dead had their home after they were driven away from the land of the living. Many people came to him from time to time. He established ghostly sports like those that his subjects had enjoyed before death. They played the game kilu with polished coconut shells, spinning them over a smooth surface to strike a post set up in the centre. He taught konane, a game commonly called “Hawaiian checkers,” but more like the Japanese game of “Go.” He permitted them to gamble, betting all the kinds of property found in ghost-land. They boxed and wrestled; they leaped from precipices into ghostly swimming-pools; they feasted and fought, sometimes attempting to slay each other. Thus they lived the ghost life as they had lived on earth. Sometimes the ruler was forgotten and the ancient Hawaiians called the Under-world by his name—Milu. The New Zealanders frequently gave their Under-world the name “Miru.” They also supposed that the ghosts feasted and sported as they had done while living.

THE THEFT OF FIRE Tradition Bearer: Tom Austin Source: Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 228–29. Date: 1914 Original Source: Paviotso (Northern Paiute) National Origin: Native American

The Northern Paiute were hunters and gatherers that historically lived in small bands in Nevada. Women foraged wild plants and seeds, and men hunted for various animals, especially jackrabbits. Job’s Peak was regarded by many of the bands as the center of the universe. Other elements of religion that are central to the following myth were a belief in

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the general sacredness of mountains and bodies of water and a belief in the acquisition of supernatural power that could be used for various purposes including the control of the weather.

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ong ago the whole world was under water except one mountain south of Walker River. The sage-hens at that time spoke Paviotso. They had fire on that mountain, then the only dry place in the world. When waves came, they would touch the tails of the birds. Sun (Taba’) said, “I don’t like to see water around here, I want it to dry up. When it dries up, all kinds of animals shall come to the world and use the Indian language.” (One can see where the water once touched the mountain.) Sun said, “I’ll send something down to this mountain (Job’s Peak)“. He sent a messenger, saying, “Go to the mountain and stay there. Anything that comes to the world after the drying up of the water shall be your relative.” He said he would send the antelope with his messenger to serve as his food. Until then neither birds nor beasts had used fire. Two different kinds of birds saw someone very far off using fire. “Someone there is using fire.” All then talked about it and wanted to get fire. “We must get it somehow.” “I wonder who is going to get it.” They asked different ones. Soon Wolf asked everyone who wished to do it. He found Wildcat and Jack-rabbit and sent them out at night. They started towards the fire-user. Smoke was passing out of his wikiup. Rabbit and Wildcat both got on the roof; the wildcat’s stripes are due to that fire. Soon some live embers came up from the fire. Wildcat caught them and put them under Jackrabbit’s tail. They caused a cold snowstorm to come from the north, and they started to run. They got some sagebrush bark and put the spark inside. Thus they got fire from the other people for everyone of their own to use. The fire-owners saw their fire going down. “I wonder what is the matter, perhaps someone has stolen the fire.” It continued going down until it finally went out. One of them said, “Someone has stolen it. I have heard that some people toward the north never use fire, perhaps some of them came here and got it. Try to track them.” Then all got out to search for tracks but owing to the snowstorm they could not find them. “I have heard that those northern people now use fire, I think they got our fire. We can get along without fire, we’ll stay, we can’t find a better place.” So they stayed there. After getting fire, the man from Job’s Peak came and raised his four children. Before that, all the wild animals, rocks, greasewood, and so on were like

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The West | How the Saboba People Came to California

persons and spoke the Indian language. After the Indians had been made, these birds and beasts got wild, while the Indians used language and killed wild animals. They got their language from the animals. The Indians began to hunt game to live on. Rabbits, antelope, and other game of that sort belonged to men; ducks, swans, and geese belonged to the woman with vaginal teeth. Wolf was chief. He said, “When someone from elsewhere comes and kills you, I am going to make you alive again, you are all mine.”

HOW THE SABOBA PEOPLE CAME TO CALIFORNIA Tradition Bearer: José Pedro Losero Source: James, George Wharton. “A Saboba Origin Myth.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 36–39. Date: ca. 1899 Original Source: Saboba National Origin: Native American

The Saboba were a band of the Luiseño of California that shared the same foraging lifestyle as the other Native Americans of Southern California. The name was imposed on the group by the Spanish after their arrival in the area. Uuyot (also known among other bands as Wuyoot), the warrior captain of the following myth, was believed to have provided supernatural power to his descendants. This power was demonstrated by extraordinary feats, which included “eating” fire and walking on hot coals. Siwash, according to an editorial note, is derived from a slang term for “Indian” that traveled down the Pacific Coast from the Chinook.

B

efore my people came here they lived far, far away in the land that is in the heart of the Setting Sun. But Siwash, our great God, told Uuyot, the warrior captain of my people, that we must come away from this land and sail away and away in a direction that he would give us. Under Uuyot’s orders my people

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built big boats and then, with Siwash himself leading them and with Uuyot as captain, they launched these into the ocean and rowed away from the shore. There was no light on the ocean. Everything was covered with a dark fog, and it was only by singing as they rowed that the boats were enabled to keep together. It was still dark and foggy when the boats landed on the shores of this land, and my ancestors groped about in the darkness, wondering why they had been brought hither. Then, suddenly, the heavens opened, and lightnings flashed and thunders roared and rains fell, and a great earthquake shook all the earth. Indeed, all the elements of the earth, ocean, and heaven, seemed to be mixed up together and, with terror in their hearts and silence on their tongues, my people stood still awaiting what would happen further. Though no voice had spoken they knew something was going to happen, and they were breathless in their anxiety to know what it was. Then they turned to Uuyot and asked him what the raging of the elements meant. Gently he calmed their fears and bade them be silent and wait. As they waited, a terrible clap of thunder rent the very heavens, and the vivid lightnings revealed the frightened people huddling together as a pack of sheep. But Uuyot stood alone, brave and fearless, facing the storm and daring the anger of Those Above. With a loud voice he cried out “Wit-i-a-ko!” which signified “Who’s there? What do you want?” But there was no response. The heavens were silent! The earth was silent! The ocean was silent! All nature was silent! Then, with a voice full of tremulous sadness and loving yearning for his people, Uuyot said, “My children, my own sons and daughters, something is wanted of us by Those Above. What it is I know not. Let us gather together and bring pivat, and with it make the big smoke and then dance and dance until we are told what is wanted.” So the people brought pivat, a native tobacco that grows in Southern California, and Uuyot brought the big ceremonial pipe, which he had made out of rock, and he soon made the big smoke and blew the smoke up into the heavens while he urged the people to dance. They danced hour after hour until they grew tired, and Uuyot smoked all the time, but still he urged them to dance. Then he called out again to Those Above, “Wit-i-a-ko!” but still could obtain no response. This made him sad and disconsolate, and when the people saw Uuyot despondent and downhearted they became panic-stricken, and ceased to dance, and began to cling around him for comfort and protection. But poor Uuyot had none to give. He himself was saddest and most forsaken of all, and he got up and bade the people leave him alone, as he wished to walk to and fro by himself. Then he made the people smoke and dance, and when they

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rested they knelt in a circle and prayed. But he walked away by himself, feeling keenly the refusal of Those Above to speak to him. His heart was deeply wounded. But as the people prayed and danced and sang, a gentle light came stealing into the sky from the far, far east. Little by little the darkness was driven away. First the light was gray, then yellow, then white, and at last the glistening brilliancy of the sun filled all the land and covered the sky with glory. The sun had arisen for the first time, and in its light and warmth my people knew they had the favor of Those Above, and they were contented. But when Siwash, the God of Earth looked round, and saw everything revealed by the sun, he was discontented, for the earth was bare and level and monotonous, and there was nothing to cheer the sight. So he took some of the people and of them he made high mountains, and of some, smaller mountains. Of some he made rivers and creeks, and lakes and waterfalls, and of others, coyotes, foxes, deer, antelopes, bears, squirrels, porcupines, and all the other animals. Then he made out of the other people all the different kinds of snakes and reptiles and insects and birds and fishes. Then he wanted trees and plants and flowers, and he turned some of the people into these things. Of every man or woman that he seized he made something according to its value. When he was done he had used up so many people he was scared. So he set to work and made a new lot of people, some to live here, some to live there, and some to live everywhere. And he gave to each family its own language and tongue and its own place to live, and he told them where to live and the sad distress that would come upon them if they mixed up their tongues by intermarriage. Each family was to live in its own place, and while all the different families were to be friendly and live as brothers, tied together by kin-ship, amity, and concord, there was to be no mixing of bloods. Thus were settled the original inhabitants on the coast of southern California by Siwash, the God of the Earth, and under the captaincy of Uuyot. But at length the time came when Uuyot must die. His work on the earth was ended and Those Above told him he must prepare to leave his earthly friends and children. He was told to go up into the San Bernardino Mountains, into a small valley there, and lie down in a certain spot to await his end. He died peacefully and calmly, as one who went to sleep. He was beloved of the Gods above and Siwash, the God of Earth, so that no pain came to him to make his death distressful. As soon as he was dead the ants came and ate all the flesh from his bones. But the spirit messengers of Those Above looked after him, and they buried him so that the mark of his burying place could never be wiped out. The powers of

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evil might strive, but this place would always remain clearly shown. A lake of water soon covered the place of his burial, and it assumed the shape of a colossal human being. It was the shape of Uuyot, and from that day to this it has remained there. It has been seen by all the people of all the ages, and will never be wiped out of existence. The legs and outstretched arms, as well as the great body, are distinctly to be seen, and even now, in the Great Bear Valley Lake, which is the site of Uuyot’s burial, the eyes of the clear-seeing man may witness the interesting sight. But it was not all at once that the people could see that Uuyot was buried in this spot. Before they knew it as a fact they sat in a great circle around the place. They sat and wept and wailed and mourned for Uuyot. They made their faces black and then they cut off their hair to show their deep sorrow, and they sat and waited, and wept and wailed, until Those Above showed them the buried body of their great leader and captain. And to this day the places where that great circle of people sat may be seen. The marks of their bodies are left in the ground and they will remain there forever, or so long as the body of Uuyot is to be seen. Ah! My people were strong and powerful then. There were many of them. Uuyot had led them to be a great people. They made a solid ring around the whole earth. Alas! That ring is broken now.

LEGEND OF THE BREADFRUIT TREE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “Legend of the Breadfruit Tree.” Pages 29–37 in Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu. Boston: G. H. Ellis Press, 1915. Date: 1915 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

Hawaiians venerated nature gods, or “akua.” Potentially, any natural phenomenon may be a god. Moreover, an image made from a natural object (such as the breadfruit tree of the following narrative) may become a god if it is worshipped as such. Papa and Wakea, the central

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gods of this myth are significant not only in Hawaiian tradition, but also elsewhere in the Pacific. Papa is the mother of the gods and associated with the earth and the underworld, while Wakea is a god of the heavens and associated with light. The term “tabu” used below is commonly spelled “taboo” in contemporary English usage. The concept here refers to those things that are so sacred as to be dangerous to all but the most supernaturally powerful individuals. Therefore, when chips or sap from the tabooed tree struck ordinary humans, they fell dead on the spot as punishment for their profane touch.

T

he wonderful bread-fruit tree was a great tree growing on the eastern bank of the rippling brook Puehuehu. It was a tabu tree, set apart for the high chief from Kou and the chiefs from Honolulu to rest under while on their way to bathe in the celebrated diving-pool, Wai-kaha-lulu. That tree became a god, and this is the story of its transformation: Papa and Wakea were the ancestors of the great, scattered, sea-going and sea-loving people living in all the islands now known as Polynesia. They had their home in every group of islands where their descendants could find room to multiply. They came to the island of Oahu, and, according to almost all the legends, were the first residents. The story of the magic bread-fruit tree, however, says that Papa sailed from Kahiki (a far-off land) with her husband Wakea, landing on Oahu and finding a home in the mountain upland near the precipice Kilohana. Papa was a kupua-a woman having many wonderful and miraculous powers. She had also several names. Sometimes she was called Haumea, but at last she left her power and a new name, Ka-meha-i-kana, in the magic bread-fruit tree. Papa was a beautiful woman, whose skin shone like polished dark ivory through the flowers and vines and leaves that were the only clothes she knew. Where she and her husband had settled down they found a fruitful country— with bananas and sugar-cane and taro. They built a house on the mountain ridge and feasted on the abundance of food around them. Here they rested well protected when rains were falling or the hot sun was shining. Papa day by day looked over the seacoast, which stretches away in miles of marvelous beauty below the precipices of the northern mountain range of the island Oahu. Clear, deep pools, well filled with most delicate fish, lay restfully among moss-covered projections of the bordering coral reef. The restless murmur

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of surf waves beating in and out through the broken lines of the reef called to her, so, catching up some long leaves of the hala-tree, she made a light basket and hurried down to the sea. In a little while she had gathered sea-moss and caught all the crabs she wished to take home. She turned toward the mountain range and carried her burden to Hoakola, where there was a spring of beautiful clear, cold, fresh water. She laid down her moss and crabs to wash them clean. She looked up, and on the mountain-side discerned there something strange. She saw her husband in the hands of men who had captured and bound him and were compelling him to walk down the opposite side of the range. Her heart leaped with fear and anguish. She forgot her crabs and moss and ran up the steep way to her home. The moss rooted itself by the spring, but the crabs escaped to the sea. On the Honolulu side of the mountains were many chiefs and their people, living among whom was Lele-hoo-mao, the ruler, whose fields were often despoiled by Papa and her husband. It was his servants who, while searching the country around these fields, had found and captured Wakea. They were forcing him to the temple Pakaka to be there offered in sacrifice. They were shouting, “We have found the mischief-maker and have tied him.” Papa threw around her some of the vines, which she had fashioned into a skirt, and ran over the hills to the edge of Nuuanu Valley. Peering down the valley she saw her husband and his captors, and cautiously she descended. She found a man by the side of the stream Puehuehu, who said to her: “A man has been carried by who is to be baked in an oven this day. The fire is burning in the valley below.” Papa said, “Give me water to drink.” The man said, “I have none.” Then Papa took a stone and smashed it against the ground. It broke through into a pool of water. She drank and hastened on to the breadfruit tree at Nini, where she overtook her husband and the men who guarded him. He was alive, his hands bound behind him and his leaf clothing torn from his body. Wailing and crying that she must kiss him, she rushed to him and began pushing and pulling him, whirling him around and around. Suddenly the great bread-fruit tree opened and she leaped with him through the doorway into the heart of the tree. The opening closed in a moment. Papa, by her miraculous power, opened the tree on the other side. They passed through and went rapidly up the mountain-side to their home, which was near the head of Kalihi Valley. As they ran Papa threw off her vine pa-u, or skirt. The vine became the beautiful morning-glory, delicate in blossom and

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powerful in medicinal qualities. The astonished men had lost their captive. According to the ancient Hawaiian proverb, “Their fence was around the field of nothingness.” They pushed against the tree, but the opening was tightly closed. They ran around under the heavy-leaved branches and found nothing. They believed that the great tree held their captive in its magic power. Quickly ran the messenger to their high chief, Lele-hoo-mao, to tell him about the trouble at the tabu bread-fruit tree at Nini and that the sacrifice for which the oven was being heated was lost. The chiefs consulted together and decided to cut down that tree and take the captive out of his hiding-place. They sent tree-cutters with their stone axes. The leader of the tree-cutters struck the tree with his stone axe. A chip leaped from the tree, struck him, and he fell dead. Another caught the axe. Again chips flew and the workman fell dead. Then all the cutters struck and gashed the tree. Whenever a chip hit anyone he died, and the sap of the tree flowed out and was spattered under the blows of the stone axes. Whenever a drop touched a workman or a bystander he fell dead. The people were filled with fear and cried to their priest for help. Wohi, the priest, came to the tree, bowed before it, and remained in silent thought a long time. Then he raised his head and said: “It was not a woman who went into that tree. It was Papa from Kahiki. She is a goddess and has a multitude of bodies. If we treat her well we shall not be destroyed.” Wohi commanded the people to offer sacrifices at the foot of the tree. This was done with prayers and incantations. A black pig, black awa, and red fish were offered to Papa. Then Wohi commanded the wood-cutters to rub themselves bountifully with coconut oil and go fearlessly to their work. Chips struck them and the sap of the tree was spattered over them, but they toiled on unhurt until the great tree fell. Out of this magic bread-fruit tree a great goddess was made. Papa gave to it one of her names, Ka-meha-i-kana, and endowed it with power so that it was noted from Kauai to Hawai’i. It became one of the great gods of Oahu, but was taken to Maui, where Kamehameha secured it as his god to aid in establishing his rule over all the islands. The peculiar divine gift supposed to reside in this image made from the wonderful breadfruit tree was the ability to aid worshippers in winning land and power from other people and wisely employing the best means of firmly establishing their own government, thus protecting and preserving the kingdom.

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Papa dwelt above the Kalihi Valley and looked down over the plains of Honolulu and Ewa covered with well-watered growing plants, which gave food or shade to the multiplying people. It is said that after a time she had a daughter, Kapo, who also had kupua, or magic power. Kapo had many names, such as Kapo-ula-kinau and Laka. She was a high tabu goddess of the ancient Hawaiian hulas, or dances. She had also the power of assuming many bodies at will and could appear in any form from the mo-o, or lizard, to a human being. Kapo was born from the eyes of Haumea, or Papa. Papa looked away from Kapo and there was born from her head a sharp pali, or precipice, often mist-covered; this was Ka-moho-alii. Then Pele was born. She was the one who had mighty battles with Kamapuaa, the pig-man, who almost destroyed the volcano Kilauea. It was Ka-moho-alii who rubbed sticks and rekindled the volcanic fires for his sister Pele, thus driving Kamapuaa down the sides of Kilauea into the ocean. These three, according to the Honolulu legends, were the highest-born children of Papa and Wakea. Down the Kalihi stream below Papa’s home were two stones to which the Hawaiians gave eepa, or gnomelike, power. If any traveler passes these stones on his way up to Papa’s resting-place, that wayfarer stops by these stones, gathers leaves and makes leis, or garlands, and places them on these stones, that there may be no trouble in all that day’s wanderings. Sometimes mischievous people dip branches from lehua-trees in water and sprinkle the eepa rocks; then woe to the traveller, for piercing rains are supposed to fall. From this comes the proverb belonging to the residents of Kalihi Valley, “Here is the sharp-headed rain Kalihi” (“Ka-ua-poo-lipilipi-o-Kalihi”).

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THE BRIDE FROM THE UNDERWORLD Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “The Bride from the Underworld.” Pages 225–41 in Hawaiian Legends of Ghosts and Ghost-Gods. Boston: Ellis Press, 1916. Date: 1916 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

In traditional Hawaiian culture, a lineage traceable to the earliest mythic beginnings of the islands was necessary for a family to claim the right of rulership. The following myth is of a young hero who traveled to the land of the dead (see, “How Milu Became the King of Ghosts,” p. 284, for the origins of the realm of the ghosts). The Underworld journey was the last of the tests Hiku passed to demonstrate his right to rule by virtue of his descent from the divine Ku. Earlier tests were his ability to survive the tabooed waters and to ride a surfboard with no prior knowledge of or training in its use.


K

u, one of the most widely known gods of the Pacific Ocean, was thought by the Hawaiians to have dwelt as a mortal for some time on the western side of the island Hawaii. Here he chose a queen by the name of Hina as his wife, and to them were born two children. When he withdrew from his residence among men he left a son on the uplands of the district of North Kona, and a daughter on the seashore of the same district. The son, Hiku-ikana-hele (Hiku of the forest), lived with his mother. The daughter, Kewalu, dwelt under the care of guardian chiefs and priests by a temple, the ruined walls of which are standing even to the present day. Here she was carefully protected and perfected in all arts pertaining to the very high chiefs. Hiku-of-the-Forest was not accustomed to go to the sea. His life was developed among the forests along the western slopes of the great mountains of Hawai’i. Here he learned the wisdom of his mother and of the chiefs and priests under whose care he was placed. To him were given many of the supernatural powers of his father. His mother guarded him from the knowledge that he had a sister and kept him from going to the temple by the side of which she had her home. Hiku was proficient in all the feats of manly strength and skill upon which chiefs of the highest rank prided themselves. None of the chiefs of the inland districts could compare with him in symmetry of form, beauty of countenance, and skill in manly sports. The young chief noted the sounds of the forest and the rushing winds along the sides of the mountains. Sometimes, like storm voices, he heard from far off the beat of the surf along the coral reef. One day he heard a noise like the flapping of the wings of many birds. He looked toward the mountain, but no multitude of his feathered friends could be found. Again the same sound awakened his curiosity. He now learned that it came from the distant seashore far below his home on the mountain-side. Hiku-of-the-Forest called his mother and together they listened as again the strange sound from the beach rose along the mountain gulches and was echoed among the cliffs. “Hiku,” said the mother, “that is the clapping of the hands of a large number of men and women. The people who live by the sea are very much pleased and are expressing their great delight in some wonderful deed of a great chief.” Day after day the rejoicing of the people was heard by the young chief. At last he sent a trusty retainer to learn the cause of the tumult. The messenger reported that he had found certain tabu surf waters of the Kona beach and had seen a very high queen who alone played with her surf-board on the incoming waves. Her beauty surpassed that of any other among all the people, and her skill in riding the surf was wonderful, exceeding that of anyone whom the people had

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The West | The Bride from the Underworld

ever seen; therefore, the multitude gathered from near and far to watch the marvelous deeds of the beautiful woman. Their pleasure was so great that when they clapped their hands the sound was like the voices of many thunder-storms. The young chief said he must go down and see this beautiful maiden. The mother knew that this young woman of such great beauty must be Kewalu, the sister of Hiku. She feared that trouble would come to Kewalu if her more powerful brother should find her and take her in marriage, as was the custom among the people. The omens that had been watched concerning the children in their infancy had predicted many serious troubles. But the young man could not be restrained. He was determined to see the wonderful woman. He sent his people to gather the nuts of the kukui, or candlenut-tree, and crush out the oil and prepare it for anointing his body. He had never used a surfboard, but he commanded his servants to prepare the best one that could be made. Down to the seashore Hiku went with his retainers, down to the tabu place of the beautiful Kewalu. He anointed his body with the kukui oil until it glistened like the polished leaves of trees; then, taking his surf-board, he went boldly to the tabu surf waters of his sister. The people stood in amazed silence, expecting to see speedy punishment meted out to the daring stranger. But the gods of the sea favored Hiku. Hiku had never been to the seaside and had never learned the arts of those who were skilful in the waters. Nevertheless, as he entered the water, he carried the surf-board more royally than any chief the people had ever known. The sunlight shone in splendor upon his polished body when he stood on the board and rode to the shore on the crests of the highest surf waves, performing wonderful feats by his magic power. The joy of the multitude was unbounded, and a mighty storm of noise was made by the clapping of their hands. Kewalu and her maidens had left the beach before the coming of Hiku and were resting in their grass houses in a grove of coconut-trees near the heiau. When the great noise made by the people aroused her, she sent one of her friends to learn the cause of such rejoicing. When she learned that an exceedingly handsome chief of the highest rank was sporting among her tabu waters, she determined to see him. So, calling her maidens, she went down to the seashore and first saw Hiku on the highest crest of the rolling surf. She decided at once that she had never seen a man so comely, and Hiku, surf-riding to the shore, felt that he had never dreamed of such grace and beauty as marked the maiden who was coming to welcome him. When Kewalu came near she took the wreath of rare and fragrant flowers that she wore and, coming close to him, threw it around his shoulders as a token to all the people that she had taken him to be her husband.

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Then the joy of the people surpassed all the pleasure of all the days before, for they looked upon the two most beautiful beings they had ever seen and believed that these two would make glad each other’s lives. Thus Hiku married his sister, Kewalu, according to the custom of that time, because she was the only one of all the people equal to him in rank and beauty, and he alone was fitted to stand in her presence. For a long time they lived together, sometimes sporting among the highest white crests of storm-tossed surf waves, sometimes enjoying the guessing and gambling games in which the Hawaiians of all times have been very expert, sometimes chanting meles and genealogies and telling marvelous stories of sea and forest, and sometimes feasting and resting under the trees surrounding their grass houses. Hiku at last grew weary of the life by the sea. He wanted the forest on the mountain and the cold, stimulating air of the uplands. But he did not wish to take his sister-wife with him. Perhaps the omens of their childhood had revealed danger to Kewalu if she left her home by the sea. Whenever he tried to steal away from her she would rush to him and cling to him, persuading him to wait for new sports and joys. One night Hiku rose up very quietly and passed out into the darkness. As he began to climb toward the uplands the leaves of the trees rustled loudly in welcome. The night birds circled around him and hastened him on his way, but Kewalu was awakened. She called for Hiku. Again and again she called, but Hiku had gone. She heard his footsteps as his eager tread shook the ground. She heard the branches breaking as he forced his way through the forests. Then she hastened after him and her plaintive cry was louder and clearer than the voices of the night birds. “E Hiku, return! E Hiku, return! O my love, wait for Kewalu! Hiku goes up the hills; Very hard is this hill, O Hiku! O Hiku, my beloved!” But Hiku by his magic power sent thick fogs and mists around her. She was blinded and chilled, but she heard the crashing of the branches and ferns as Hiku forced his way through them, and she pressed on, still calling: “E Hiku, beloved, return to Kewalu.” Then the young chief threw the long flexible vines of the ieie down into the path. They twined around her feet and made her stumble as she tried to follow

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him. The rain was falling all around her, and the way was very rough and hard. She slipped and fell again and again. The ancient chant connected with the legend says: “Hiku, is climbing up the hill. Branches and vines are in the way, And Kewalu is begging him to stop. Rain-drops are walking on the leaves. The flowers are beaten to the ground. Hopeless the quest, but Kewalu is calling: ‘E Hiku, beloved! Let us go back together.’” Her tears, mingled with the rain, streamed down her cheeks. The storm wet and destroyed the kapa mantle that she had thrown around her as she hurried from her home after Hiku. In rags she tried to force her way through the tangled undergrowth of the uplands, but as she crept forward step by step she stumbled and fell again into the cold wet mass of ferns and grasses. Then the vines crept up around her legs and her arms and held her, but she tore them loose and forced her way upward, still calling. She was bleeding where the rough limbs of the trees had torn her delicate flesh. She was so bruised and sore from the blows of the bending branches that she could scarcely creep along. At last she could no longer hear the retreating footsteps of Hiku. Then, chilled and desolate and deserted, she gave up in despair and crept back to the village. There she crawled into the grass house where she had been so happy with her brother Hiku, intending to put an end to her life. The ieie vines held her arms and legs, but she partially disentangled herself and wound them around her head and neck. Soon the tendrils grew tight and slowly but surely choked the beautiful queen to death. This was the first suicide in the records of Hawaiian mythology. As the body gradually became lifeless the spirit crept upward to the lua-uhane, the door by which it passed out of the body into the spirit world. This “spirit-door” is the little hole in the corner of the eye. Out of it the spirit is thought to creep slowly as the body becomes cold in death. The spirit left the cold body a prisoner to the tangled vines, and slowly and sadly journeyed to Milu, the Underworld home of the ghosts of the departed. The lust of the forest had taken possession of Hiku. He felt the freedom of the swift birds that had been his companions in many an excursion into the heavily shaded depths of the forest jungles. He plunged with abandon into the whirl and rush of the storm winds, which he had called to his aid to check Kewalu. He was drunken with the atmosphere that he had breathed throughout

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his childhood and young manhood. When he thought of Kewalu he was sure that he had driven her back to her home by the temple where he could find her when once more he should seek the seashore. He had only purposed to stay a while on the uplands, and then return to his sister-wife. His father, the god Ku, had been watching him and had also seen the suicide of the beautiful Kewalu. He saw the spirit pass down to the kingdom of Milu, the home of the ghosts. Then he called Hiku and told him bow heedless and thoughtless he had been in his treatment of Kewalu, and how in despair she had taken her life, the spirit going to the Underworld. Hiku, the child of the forest, was overcome with grief. He was ready to do anything to atone for the suffering he had caused Kewalu, and repair the injury. Ku told him that only by the most daring effort could he hope to regain his loved bride. He could go to the Underworld, meet the ghosts and bring his sister back, but this could only be done at very great risk to himself, for if the ghosts discovered and captured him they would punish him with severest torments and destroy all hope of returning to the Upper-world. Hiku was determined to search the land of Milu and find his bride and bring her back to his Kona home by the sea. Ku agreed to aid him with the mighty power that he had as a god; nevertheless, it was absolutely necessary that Hiku should descend alone and by his own wit and skill secure the ghost of Kewalu. Hiku prepared a coconut-shell full of oil made from decayed kukui nuts. This was very vile and foul smelling. Then he made a long stout rope of ieie vines. Ku knew where the door to the Underworld was, through, which human beings could go down. This was a hole near the seashore in the valley of Waipio on the eastern coast of the island. Ku and Hiku went to Waipio, descended the precipitous walls of the valley and found the door to the pit of Milu. Milu was the ruler of the Underworld. Hiku rubbed his body all over with the rancid kukui oil and then gave the ieie vine into the keeping of his father to hold fast while he made his descent into the world of the spirits of the dead. Slowly Ku let the vine down until at last Hiku stood in the strange land of Milu. No one noticed his coming and so for a little while he watched the ghosts, studying his best method of finding Kewalu. Some of the ghosts were sleeping; some were gambling and playing the same games they had loved so well while living in the Upper-world; others were feasting and visiting around the poi bowl as they had formerly been accustomed to do. Hiku knew that the strong odor of the rotten oil would be his best protection, for none of the spirits would want to touch him and so would not discover that he was flesh and blood. Therefore he rubbed his body once more thoroughly

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with the oil and disfigured himself with dirt. As he passed from place to place searching for Kewalu, the ghosts said, “What a bad-smelling spirit!” So they turned away from him as if he was one of the most unworthy ghosts dwelling in Milu. In the realm of Milu he saw the people in the game of rolling coconutshells to hit a post. Kulioe, one of the spirits, had been playing the kilu and had lost all his property to the daughter of Milu and one of her friends. He saw Hiku and said, “If you are a skilful man perhaps you should play with these two girls.” Hiku said: “I have nothing. I have only come this day and am alone.” Kulioe bet his bones against some of the property he had lost. The first girl threw her cup at the kilu post. Hiku chanted: “Are you known by Papa and Wakea, O eyelashes or rays of the sun? Mine is the cup of kilu.” Her cup did not touch the kilu post before Hiku. She threw again, but did not touch, while Hiku chanted the same words. They took a new cup, but failed. Hiku commenced swinging the cup and threw. It glided and twisted around on the floor and struck the post. This counted five and won the first bet. Then he threw the cup numbered twenty, won all the property, and gave it back to Kulioe. At last he found Kewalu, but she was by the side of the high chief, Milu, who had seen the beautiful princess as she came into the Underworld. More glorious was Kewalu than any other of all those of noble blood whom had ever descended to Milu. The ghosts had welcomed the spirit of the princess with great rejoicing, and the king had called her at once to the highest place in his court. She had not been long with the chiefs of Milu before they asked her to sing or chant her mele. The mele was the family song by which any chief made known his rank and the family with which he was connected whenever he visited chiefs far away from his own home. Hiku heard the chant and mingled with the multitude of ghosts gathered around the place where the high chiefs were welcoming the spirit of Kewalu. While Hiku and Kewalu had been living together, one of their pleasures was composing and learning to intone a chant that no other among either mortals or spirits should know besides themselves. While Kewalu was singing she introduced her part of this chant. Suddenly from among the throng of ghosts arose the sound of a clear voice chanting the response, which was known by no other person but Hiku.

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Kewalu was overcome by the thought that perhaps Hiku was dead and was now among the ghosts, but did not dare to incur the hatred of King Milu by making himself known; or perhaps Hiku had endured many dangers of the lower world by coming even in human form to find her and therefore must remain concealed. The people around the king, seeing her grief, were not surprised when she threw a mantle around herself and left them to go away alone into the shadows. She wandered from place to place among the groups of ghosts, looking for Hiku. Sometimes she softly chanted her part of the mele. At last she was again answered and was sure that Hiku was near, but the only one very close was a foul-smelling, dirt-covered ghost from whom she was turning away in despair. Hiku, in a low tone, warned her to be very careful and not recognize him, but assured her that he had come in person to rescue her and take her back to her old home where her body was then lying. He told her to wander around and yet to follow him until they came to the ieie vine which he had left hanging from the hole that opened to the Upper-world. When Hiku came to the place where the vine was hanging he took hold to see if Ku, his father, was still carefully guarding the other end to pull him up when the right signal should be given. Having made himself sure of the aid of the god, he tied the end of the vine into a strong loop and seated himself in it. Then he began to swing back and forth, back and forth, sometimes rising high and sometimes checking himself and resting with his feet on the ground. Kewalu came near and begged to be allowed to swing, but Hiku would only consent on the condition that she would sit in his lap. The ghosts thought that this would be an excellent arrangement and shouted their approval of the new sport. Then Hiku took the spirit of Kewalu in his strong arms and began to swing slowly back and forth, then more and more rapidly, higher and higher, until the people marveled at the wonderful skill. Meanwhile he gave the signal to Ku to pull them up. Almost imperceptibly the swing receded from the spirit world. All this time Hiku had been gently and lovingly rubbing the spirit of Kewalu and softly uttering charm after charm so that while they were swaying in the air she was growing smaller and smaller. Even the chiefs of Milu had been attracted to this unusual sport, and had drawn near to watch the wonderful skill of the strange foul-smelling ghost. Suddenly it dawned upon some of the beholders that the vine was being drawn up to the Upper-world. Then the cry arose: “He is stealing the woman!” “He is stealing the woman!” The Underworld was in a great uproar of noise. Some of the ghosts were leaping as high as they could, others were calling for Hiku to return, and others were uttering charms to cause his downfall. No one could leap high enough to

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The West | The Adventures of Haininu and Baumegwesu

touch Hiku, and the power of all the charms was defeated by the god Ku, who rapidly drew the vine upward. Hiku succeeded in charming the ghost of Kewalu into the coconut-shell, which he still carried. Then, stopping the opening tight with his fingers so that the spirit could not escape, he brought Kewalu back to the land of mortals. With the aid of Ku, the steep precipices surrounding Waipio Valley were quickly scaled and the journey made to the temple by the tabu surf waters of Kona. Here the body of Kewalu had been lying in state. Here the auwe, or mourning chant, of the retinue of the dead princess could be heard from afar. Hiku passed through the throngs of mourners, carefully guarding his precious coconut until he came to the feet, cold and stiff in death. Kneeling down he placed the small hole in the end of the shell against the tender spot in the bottom of one of the cold feet. The spirits of the dead must find their way back little by little through the body from the feet to the eyes, from which they must depart when they bid final farewell to the world. To try to send the spirit back into the body by placing it in the lua-uhane, or “door of the soul,” would be to have it where it had to depart from the body rather than enter it. Hiku removed his finger from the hole in the coconut and uttered the incantations that would allure the ghost into the body. Little by little the soul of Kewalu came back, and the body grew warm from the feet upward, until at last the eyes opened and the soul looked out upon the blessed life restored to it by the skill and bravery of Hiku. No more troubles arose to darken the lives of the children of Ku. Whether in the forest or by the sea they made the days pleasant for each other until at the appointed time together they entered the shades of Milu as chief and chiefess who could not be separated. It is said that the generations of their children gave many rulers to the Hawaiians, and that the present royal family, the “House of Kalakaua,” is the last of the descendants.

THE ADVENTURES OF HAININU AND BAUMEGWESU Tradition Bearer: Chipo Source: Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 333–38.

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Date: 1918 Original Source: Western Mono (California) National Origin: Native American

Western Mono settled on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. They were a seminomadic hunting and gathering culture that moved residences to obtain seasonally available food source. While Haininu and Baumegwesu are apparently human characters in the following myth, all others are animals, some of whom have significance to the Mono. Rattlesnake and bear were the focus of two of the tribal rituals, and Great Horned Owl served as the messenger of death. Haininu partakes of much of his uncle Coyote’s irreverence toward the all species, however. His destruction of dangerous animal species and tempestuous winds suggests the role of culture hero as well as, in the end, trickster.

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oyote made a fire, a large fire. He sat down by it and cried. Then he sang, “Yo i hini, yo i hini wau!” Said Coyote to himself, “My tears drop down all around my flanks. I wish my sister’s sons, Haininu and Baumegwesu, would come. If they would come, I would go with them.” The two nephews appeared close by the fire. “What are you going to do, uncle?” asked Haininu. Coyote replied, “What do you expect me to do? I am going with you. I am going along when you get that yellow jackets’ nest. I will clean it very thoroughly.” So they started. They encountered Roadrunner, who was also Haininu’s mother’s brother. “What are you going to do?” queried Haininu. “I am going along too,” replied Roadrunner. Next they came to House Finch’s place and Haininu said to House Finch, who was also his mother’s brother, “What are you going to do?” House Finch responded, “I am going along too.” Then they arrived at the camp of Brewer’s Blackbird. “What are you going to do, mother’s brother?” asked Haininu. He replied, “I am going along too.”

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A creek was reached and there Haininu shot a large salmon with his bow and arrow. When he killed it, the water rose and nearly overwhelmed him. It pursued him. He jumped from cliff to cliff far back in the mountains, but the water still followed him. Finally he got out of reach of it, but he was so exhausted that he fainted. When he revived he asked himself, “Who is doing this to me? I am going to see you again,” he said, referring to the salmon and the water of the creek that had pursued him. He was all covered with mud when the water receded. He looked over the edge of the cliff on which he was resting, put over his bow and arrow, so they leaned against it, and then slid down to the bottom of the cliff on them. He returned to the place where he had shot the large salmon. Then out of revenge he shot all of the salmon he could see, a task that was made easy because the water was low. “That is what I can do to you now,” he said. He walked around amongst the slaughtered salmon in the now waterless creek bed. All of the water had disappeared when he killed the salmon. “This is what I can do to you,” he said. He took his departure and caught up with his brother Baumegwesu, who had gone on with his uncles. As they proceeded Haininu espied two bears swinging. He said to them, “Friends, you are doing some-thing fine there. Let me swing.” The bears replied, “Yes, Yes, it is nice. You may swing.” The bears swung him on the tree and then let go. He was projected upward, but alighted feet first, though buried up to his neck in sand. The bears laughed and went into their house, leaving their cubs outside. Haininu killed and skinned the cubs and took their flesh in the house. “My father’s sisters,” he said, “here is some deer meat. Eat it.” The bears remarked, “It smells like our children, and it tastes like them.” Then they vomited. The bears pursued Haininu, who called to Baumegwesu, across the creek, to put his leg out so that the bears might cross on it. Baumegwesu did so, but when one bear was half way over, he withdrew his leg and she fell into the water and was drowned. One bear was left and that is why there are still bears in this country today. The two brothers went on until they neared the home of their father’s sisters, the Winds. There Baumegwesu said to Haininu, “You go over there and see our aunts and get a basket from them.” This was at a big cave, in the mountains, called Piyau. The Winds lived in the cave. When Haininu entered Piyau cave, the habitation of his aunts, he seized each of the old women by the ears. They protested, “Ouch! Nephew, do not do that. You are always treating us this way.”

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“Give me a basket, aunts,” he demanded. “I want to put some of my food into it. We are going down to the plains.” As soon as they turned their backs, Haininu mischievously made holes in all of their baskets by shooting arrows into them. When the Winds perceived what he had done, they became whirlwinds and pursued him. They chased him, overtook him, and beat him with large tree limbs. He kept shouting his name as he jumped this way and that to escape their blows. They finally gave up in despair, as he was too agile for them, and went home. Haininu followed them back and shot them and all but two of their children, who escaped. They secreted themselves in crevices in the cliff. Haininu tried to poke them out, but could not. We would not have wind today if these two little ones had not escaped. Baumegwesu sat singing his own name, while Haininu was having the tussle with the Winds. “I did not send you to murder our aunts,” scolded Baumegwesu, “but you are always getting into mischief. We will travel now.” They had not gone far before Baumegwesu said, “My younger brother, you go to our father’s sisters living over there and try to get a basket from them.” These aunts were Rattlesnakes. To Haininu’s request they responded, “Yes, my nephew, we have baskets for you here. Let us enter and seek a good one.” They selected their best basket and handed it to Haininu. “This is the best we can do, nephew,” they said. Haininu departed and the aunts sat down to resume work on the baskets they were making. “What is the matter with this basket?” asked one, “it is full of holes.” “Mine too,” said the other, for Haininu had been up to mischief when their backs were turned. “We will cut across here and get ahead of our nephew before he gets far up the road. Run quickly.” They hastened and hid themselves at a fork of the trail ahead of Haininu. As he passed, each one bit him on the leg, one on the right, one on the left. Haininu sat down on a great rock, where one can still see his blood. He fainted. His legs swelled and rotted. Baumegwesu came to see what the trouble was. He whipped Haininu’s legs with an arrow. The swelling subsided and Haininu awoke. “What are you doing to me?” he asked. “I have been sleeping right here.” “You certainly have not been sleeping here. I told you not to do this thing. You are always bothering our poor aunts,” thus Baumegwesu reprimanded him. Haininu ignored the reproof and said, “You go ahead, brother, and I will follow shortly.” He ran back to his aunts’ house and shot both of them. One child escaped. “Well, I do not believe that you amount to anything, so I will let you go,” said Haininu to the escaping child. Haininu hastened to over-take his

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brother. When he caught up with him, Baumegwesu asked, “What have you been doing now?” “I went back and killed those old women,” said Haininu. “They cannot get the best of me.” They camped near Napasiat, where they found a yellow jackets’ nest under a stone. Haininu said, “We will leave this one for the Indians in this part of the country. We do not want to dig this one out. We will go down to the plains and get a large one.” They made a bait for the yellow jackets. It consisted of a grass-hopper’s leg with a white feather tied to it. The feather was to serve as a guide when the grasshopper leg was being carried away by a yellow jacket to its nest. It was not long before a yellow jacket started to carry it away. Then Haininu saw a yellow jacket with a piece of deer meat, also a giant yellow jacket carrying a deer’s antlers. Haininu left his companions and followed the giant yellow jacket that was carrying the deer’s antlers. He followed it to its nest. Then he returned to his companions, singing his name as he went along, “Haina, Haininu.” Coyote heard him singing as he approached and he sang too. “Oh, I am so happy,” said Coyote, as he thought about the coming feast. Haininu tarried with Vulture. “Give me one of your feathers,” requested Haininu. “All right,” said Vulture, “I will give you one.” So saying, he pulled out the largest and handed it to Haininu. “Yes. This is what I want,” said Haininu. “You may have anything you want,” said Vulture. “You know your mother’s brother always gives you whatever you wish.” Haininu next visited Great Horned Owl and asked him, “What are you going to do?” “I am going down to eat my fill of yellow jacket grubs,” said Great Horned Owl. “Well, come on then,” urged Haininu. As they proceeded they encountered Raccoon. “Well, mother’s brother, what are you going to do?” queried Haininu. “I am going down to eat my fill of yellow jacket grubs,” replied Raccoon. “Well, come on then,” invited Haininu. Baumegwesu sang when they arrived at the yellow jackets’ nest. He instructed Haininu and the uncles to go and gather pine needles for the roasting. After they had secured the pine needles, Baumegwesu changed his mind and said, “This is not the nest we are seeking. We ought to have a larger nest. We will have to seek further. This is a different one.” Again they used a grasshopper leg for bait and a yellow jacket took it. Haininu followed him way over to the Coast Range (Panakap), located the nest, and then returned to report to his older brother. “No. That is not the nest, either,” said Baumegwesu.

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They fixed another bait. It was carried towards Mariposa by a yellow jacket. Coyote, meanwhile, had developed such an appetite that he had eaten all the pine needles that had been collected. He complained, “I am so very hungry. When will that yellow jackets’ nest be in sight?” Then Haininu followed the yellow jacket toward Mariposa. When he returned to his companions, he found the deer’s antlers again in the same hole where he had first found them. Baumegwesu now declared that after all this was the nest they were seeking. “That is the one,” he said. “Bring the antlers here. That is certainly the nest.” Haininu went out and gathered pine needles, “Are these right, my elder brother?” he asked Baumegwesu. “No. You have gathered the wrong kind,” replied Baumegwesu. So Haininu started again in the morning. Then he came in with a big load of pine needles. “Are these all right?” he asked. Baumegwesu said, “Yes. That is the kind I told you to get in the first place.” Haininu protested, “You make so much work for me, elder brother. Why did you bring that old uncle Coyote? He ate all of our pine needles to begin with.” Baumegwesu warned him, “You had better say nothing about him. We have our nest and we do not care.” Then Baumegwesu continued, “There are not enough pine needles. You will have to get some more.” “Oh dear,” sighed Haininu, “what work!” He went further this time, crossing the mountains and securing needles from the pinion trees. When he returned with his burden Baumegwesu said, “This quantity is going to be sufficient to cook the nest. This is the best thing you could get.” Then Baumegwesu discovered that they had no fire drill. “We have forgotten our fire drill and hearth,” he said to Haininu. “Go back to Napasiat and get them.” As the yellow jackets’ nest they were about to cook was at Yoninau, between Fresno and Coalinga, this order meant another long trip back into the mountains for Haininu. However, he set out on the errand and in due time returned with the implements. “You have brought the wrong ones,” said Baumegwesu, when Haininu handed him the sticks. He sent Haininu back again. Baumegwesu said, “Oh yes, here it is,” referring to the first drill that Haininu had brought. “What am I thinking of? This is it, my younger brother. This is what I told you to get.” They now filled the yellow jackets’ hole with pine needles. Baumegwesu secured a spark with the fire drill and blew it into flame. When the nest was cooked they took it out, they took it out, they took it all out. They kept digging and the nest seemed to get bigger and bigger, wider and wider. Coyote cried, “I want the bottom one, the last.” Then his companions said, “Feed him separately. Do not let him eat with us.” This pleased Coyote, for he said, “If I eat separately,

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I shall have that much more.” Coyote got the best. They finished the feast and prepared to travel the following morning. “We will divide what is left of the yellow jackets’ nest,” said Baumegwesu. “You had better all go home now.” The division was made and each started for home with a little bundle of yellow jacket grubs. Different tribes of Indians met Haininu and Baumegwesu when they were returning. The two brothers made a house at Yuninau, a high hill near Friant. They did not like it, however, and Haininu left, but Baumegwesu remained behind singing. Baumegwesu after a bit noticed the absence of Haininu and said to himself, “Where has my younger brother gone?” Then Baumegwesu, from his station on the hill Yuninau, could discern Haininu on the plains below. Different tribes were chasing him, but his vulture feather, which he wore on his head, was still insight. “My brother is yet alive,” said Baumegwesu. Haininu and his pursuers, who were shooting at him, drew near. Baumegwesu spread out his bow and arrows to dry and, when the people got close, he shot at them. While Baumegwesu was shooting these people, Haininu went off a short distance and lay down, quite exhausted. His pursuers were very weary, too, as Baumegwesu shot them. When the slaughter was over, Baumegwesu went to Haininu and kicked him. Then he beat him with an arrow and asked, “What is the matter with you?” “Do not disturb me,” protested Haininu. “I am sound asleep.” Baumegwesu laughed ironically, “Yes, you are!” Then he ordered Haininu to arise and start the fire. When the fire was kindled, Baumegwesu butchered the different tribes of people to eat. He made charqui of some; others he roasted. He put some on the coals, but they disappeared. “I do not think the meat has been consumed by the fire,” said Baumegwesu in wonder. “Next time I shall watch it.” Then he put a whole head on the fire to roast and held it by the horns, for these people had horns. He stirred the fire, still holding the head by the horns, but it slipped away from him and turned into Elk. It started to pursue Haininu, but it traveled slowly. Haininu retired into the mountains with Elk after him. He arrived at a village. “What are you going to do for me?” he asked the people. “Something is after me.” They replied, “We can do nothing for you.” He passed on and approached another village. “What are you going to do for me? Something is after me.” “We can do nothing for you,” was the reply. At last he arrived at Skunk’s habitation. “What are you going to do for me? Something is after me,” pleaded Haininu.

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Skunk replied, “We have some soapstone here. We might make some red hot stones. They started a fire as quickly as they could and heated some stones. After a time Elk appeared. “Where is that man I am following?” he asked. “We have already butchered him,” responded Skunk. “Open your mouth wide and we will give you what is left.” Elk obeyed and Skunk threw the red hot stones in the gaping mouth. Elk boiled and burst. “That is the way we fix them,” boasted Skunk.

KAMPUAA LEGENDS: LEGENDS OF THE HOG GOD Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westervelt, W. D. “Kampuaa Legends.” Pages 247–78 in Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu. Boston, G. H. Ellis Press, 1915. Date: 1915 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

Abraham Fornander, an early collector and compiler of Hawaiian oral tradition writes, “The Kamapuaa stories ... seem to have no counterpart in any mythology beyond the borders of the Hawaiian Islands.” Although W. D. Westervelt does not emphasize the connection, Hina is identified as a god and Kamapuaa is explicitly named as a demigod by folklorist Martha Warren Beckwith. His nature bears all the marks of a “kupua” (the offspring of a god born into a human family): he is a shapeshifter with extraordinary strength; he is extraordinarily ugly and can control nature. The following cycle of tales of Kampuaa has been collated and rewritten with interjections by Westervelt. In spite of this, however, the content remains true to tradition.

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ome of the most unique legends of the nations have centered around imagined monsters. Centaurs, half man and half horse, thronged the dreams of Rome. The Hawaiians knew nothing about any animals, save

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The West | Kampuaa Legends: Legends of the Hog God

the fish of the seas, the birds of the forests, and the chickens, dogs, and pigs around their homes. From the devouring shark, the Hawaiian imagination conceived the idea of the shark-man who indulged in cannibalistic tendencies. From the devastations of the hogs, they built up the experiences of a rude vicious chief whom they called Kamapuaa: the principal figure of many rough exploits throughout the islands. Sometimes he had a hog’s body with a human head and limbs, sometimes a hog’s head rested on a human form, and sometimes he assumed the shape of a hog—quickly reassuming the form of a man. Kalakaua’s legends say that he was a hairy man and cultivated the stiff hair by cutting it short so that it stood out like bristles, and that he had his body tattooed so that it would have the appearance of a hog. In place of the ordinary feather cloak worn by chiefs he wore a pigskin with its bristles on the outside and a pigskin girdle around his waist. The legends say that he was born at Kaluanui, a part of the district of Hauula or Koolau coast of the island Oahu. His reputed father was Olopana, the high chief of that part of the island, and his mother was Hina, the daughter of a chief who had come from a foreign land. Other legends say that his father was Kahikiula (The Red Tahiti), a brother of Olopana. These brothers had come to Oahu from foreign lands some time before. Fornander always speaks of Olopana as Kamapuaa’s uncle, although he had taken Hina as his wife. The Koolauloa coast of Oahu lies as a luxuriant belt of ever-living foliage a mile or so in width between an ocean of many colors and dark beetling precipices of mountain walls rising some thousands of feet among the clouds. From these precipices, which mark the landward side of a mighty extinct crater, come many mountain streams leaping in cascades of spray down into the quiet green valleys, which quickly broaden into the coral-reef-bordered seacoast. From any place by the sea, the outline of several beautiful little valleys can be easily traced. One morning while the sunlight of May looked into the hidden recesses and crevices of these valleys, bringing into sharp relief of shadow and light the outcropping ledges, a little band of Hawaiians and their white friends lay in the shade of a great kamani tree and talked about the legends which were told of the rugged rock masses of each valley, and the quiet pools of each rivulet. Where the little party lay was one of the sporting-places of Kamapuaa, the “hogchild treated in the legends as a demigod.” Not far away, one of the mountain streams had broadened into a quiet bush-shaded lakelet with deep fringes of grass around its borders. Here the legendary hog-man with marvelous powers had bathed from time to time. A narrow gorge deep shadowed by the morning sun was the place that Kamapuaa had miraculously bridged for his followers

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when an enemy was closely pursuing them. Several large stones on the edges of the valleys were pointed out as the monuments of various adventures. An exquisitely formed little valley ran deep into the mountain almost in front of the legend-tellers. Far away in the upper end where the dark-green foliage blended with still darker shadows the sides of the valley narrowed until they were only from sixty to seventy feet apart, and unscalable precipices bent toward each other, leaving only a narrow strip of sky above. On the right of this valley is a branch-gorge down which fierce storms have hurled torrents of waters and mist. The upper end has been hollowed and polished in the shape of a finely rounded canoe of immense proportions. It was from this that the valley took its name Kaliu-waa, possibly having the meaning, “the leaky canoe.” Some of the legends say that this was Kamapuaa’s canoe leaning against the precipice and always leaking out the waters that fell in it. Lying toward the west was a very fertile and open tract of land, Kaluanui, where Kamapuaa was said to have been born of Hina. After his birth he was thrown away by Kahiki-houna-kele, an older brother, and left to die. After a time Hina, the mother, went to a stream of clear, sweet water near her home to bathe. After bathing she went to the place where she had left her pa-u, or tapa skirt, and found a fine little hog lying on it. She picked it up and found that it was a baby. She was greatly alarmed, and gave the hog-child to another son, Kekelaiaika, that he might care for it, but the older brother stole the hog-child and carried it away to a cave in which Hina’s mother lived. Her name was Kamaunuaniho. The grandmother knew the hog-child at once as her grandson endowed with marvelous powers, and since the gods had given him the form of a hog he should be called kama (child), puaa (hog). Then she gave to the older brother kapa quilts in which to place Kamapuaa. These were made in layers; six sheets of kapa cloth formed the under quilt for a bed and six sheets the upper quilt for a cover. In these Kamapuaa slept while his brother prepared taro and breadfruit for his food. Thus the wonderful hog ate and slept usually in the form of a hog until size and strength came to him. Then he became mischievous and began to commit depredations at night. He would root up the taro in the fields of his neighbors, and especially in the field of the high chief Olopana. Then he would carry the taro home, root up ferns and grass until he had good land, and then plant the stolen taro. Thus his grandmother and her retainers were provided with growing taro, the source of which they did not understand. His elder brother prepared an oven in which to cook chickens. Kamapuaa rooted up the oven and stole the chickens. This brother Kahiki-houna-kele

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caught the hog-child and administered a sound whipping, advising him to go away from home if he wanted to steal, and especially to take what he wanted from Olopana. Adopting this advice, Kamapuaa extended his raids to the home of the high chief. Here he found many chickens. Kamapuaa quickly killed some, took them in his mouth and threw many more on his back and ran home. The morning came before he had gone far and the people along the way saw the strange sight and pursued him. By the use of charms taught him by his sorceress-grandmother he made himself run faster and faster until he had outstripped his pursuer. Then he carried his load to his grandmother’s cave and gave the chickens to the family for a great luau (feast). Another time he stole the sacred rooster belonging to Olopana, as well as many other fowls. The chief sent a large number of warriors after him. They chased the man who had been seen carrying the chickens. He fled by his grandmother’s cave and threw the chickens inside, then fled back up the hillside, revealing himself to his pursuers. They watched him, but he disappeared. He dropped down by the side of a large stone. On this he seated himself and watched the people as they ran through the valley calling to each other. The high grass was around the stone so that for a long time he was concealed. For this reason this stone still bears the name Pohaku-pee-o-Kamapuaa (Kamapuaa’s-hiding-stone). After a time a man who had climbed to the opposite ridge cried out, “E, E, there he is sitting on the great stone!” This man was turned into a stone by the magic of Kamapuaa. The pursuers hastened up the hillside and surrounded the stone, but no man was there. There was a fine black hog, which they recognized as the wonderful one belonging to Kamaunuaniho. So they decided that this was the thief, and seized it and carried it down the bill to give to the high chief Olopana. After getting him down into the valley they tried to drive him, but he would not go. Then they sent into the forest for ohia poles and made a large litter. It required many men to carry this enormous hog who made himself very heavy. Suddenly Kamapuaa heard his grandmother calling: “Break the cords! Break the poles! Break the strong men! Escape!” Making a sudden turn on the litter, he broke it in pieces and fell with it to the ground. Then he burst the cords that bound him and attacked the band of men whom he had permitted to capture him. Some legends say that he killed and ate many of them. Others say that he killed and tore the people. The wild life lived by Kamapuaa induced a large band of rough, lawless men to leave the service of the various high chiefs and follow Kamapuaa in

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his marauding expeditions. They made themselves the terror of the whole Koolau region. Olopana determined to destroy them, and sent an army of four hundred warriors to uproot Kamapuaa and his robbers. It was necessary for them to hasten to their hiding-places, but they were chased up into the hills until a deep gorge faced them. No way of escape seemed possible, but Kamapuaa, falling on the ground, became a long hog—stretching out he increased his length until he could reach from side to side of the deep ravine—thus, he formed a bridge over which his followers escaped. Kamapuaa, however, was not able to make himself small quickly enough to escape from his enemies. He tried to hide himself in a hole and pull dead branches and leaves over himself; but they soon found him, bound him securely, and tied him to a great stone, which, with “the stone of hiding” and “the watcher,” are monuments of the legends to this day. The people succeeded in leading the hog-man to Olopana’s home, where they fastened him, keeping him for a great feast—which they hoped to have in a few days—but Kamapuaa, Samson-like, broke all his bonds, destroyed many of his captors, wantonly destroyed coconut-trees and taro patches, and then went back to his home. He knew that Olopana would use every endeavor to compass his destruction. So he called his followers together and led them up Kaliuwaa Valley, stopping to get his grandmother on the way. When he came to the end of the valley, and the steep cliffs up which his people could not possibly climb, he took his grandmother on his neck and leaned back against the great precipice. Stretching himself more and more, and rubbing against the black rocks, at last he lifted his grandmother to the top of the cliffs so that she could step off on the uplands, which sloped down to the Pearl Harbor side of the island. Then the servants and followers climbed up the sides of the great hog by clinging to his bristles and escaped. The hollow worn in the rocks looked like a hewn-out canoe, and was given the name Ka-waa-o-Kamapuaa (The canoe of Kamapuaa). Kamapuaa then dammed up the water of the beautiful stream by throwing his body across it, and awaited the coming of Olopana and his warriors. An immense force had been sent out to destroy him. In addition to the warriors who came by land, a great fleet of canoes was sent along the seashore to capture any boats in which Kamapuaa and his people might try to escape. The canoes gathered in and around the mouth of the stream that flowed from Kaliuwaa Valley. The warriors began to march along the stream up toward the deep gorge. Suddenly Kamapuaa broke the dam by leaping away from the waters, and a great flood drowned the warriors and dashed the canoes together,

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destroying many and driving the rest far out to sea. Uhakohi is said to be the place where this flood occurred. Then Kamapuaa permitted the people to capture him. They went up the valley after the waters had subsided and found nothing left of Kamapuaa or his people except a small black hog. They searched the valley thoroughly. They found the canoe, turned to stone, leaning against the precipice at the end of the gorge. They said among themselves, “Escaped is Kamapuaa with all his people, and ended are our troubles.” They caught the hog and bound it to carry to Olopana. As they journeyed along the seashore, their burden became marvelously heavy until at last an immense litter was required resting on the shoulders of many men. It was said that he sometimes tossed himself over to one side, breaking it down and killing some of the men who carried him. Then again he rolled to the other side, bringing a like destruction. Thus he brought trouble and death and a long, weary journey to his captors, who soon learned that their captive was the hog-man Kamapuaa. They brought him to their king Olopana and placed him in the temple enclosure where sacrifices to the gods were confined. This heiau was in Kaneohe and was known as the heiau of Kawaewae. It was in the care of a priest known as Lonoaohi. Long, long before this capture Olopana had discovered Kamapuaa and would not acknowledge him as his son. The destruction of his coconut-trees and taro patches had been the cause of the first violent rupture between the two. Kamapuaa had wantonly broken the walls of Olopana’s great fish-pond and set the fish free, and then after three times raiding the fowls around the grass houses had seized, killed, and eaten the sacred rooster, which Olopana considered his household fetish. When Olopana knew that Kamapuaa had been captured and was lying bound in the temple enclosure he sent orders that great care should be taken lest he escape, and later he should be placed on the altar of sacrifice before the great gods. Hina, it was said, could not bear the thought that this child of hers, brutal and injurious as he was, should suffer as a sacrifice. She was a very high chiefess, and, like the Hinas throughout Polynesia, was credited with divine powers. She had great influence with the high priest Lonoaohi and persuaded him to give Kamapuaa an opportunity to escape. This was done by killing a black hog and smearing Kamapuaa’s body with the blood. Thus bearing the appearance of death, he was laid unbound on the altar. It was certain that unless detected he could easily climb the temple wall and escape. Olopana, the king, came to offer the chants and prayers that belonged to such a sacrifice. He as well as the high priest had temple duties and the privilege

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of serving at sacrifices of great importance. As was his custom he came from the altar repeating chants and prayers while Kamapuaa lay before the images of the gods. While he was performing the sacrificial rites, Kamapuaa became angry, leaped from the altar, changed himself into his own form, seized the bone daggers used in dismembering the sacrifices, and attacked Olopana, striking him again and again until he dropped on the floor of the temple dead. The horrified priests had been powerless to prevent the deed, nor did they think of striking Kamapuaa down at once. In the confusion, he rushed from the temple, fled along the coast to his well-known valleys, climbed the steep precipices and rejoined his grandmother and his followers. Leading his band of rough robbers down through the sandalwood forests of the Wahiawa region, he crossed over the plains to the Waianae Mountains. Here they settled for a time, living in caves. Other lawless spirits joined them, and they passed along the Ewa side of the island, ravaging the land like a herd of swine, a part of the island they conquered, making the inhabitants their serfs. Here on a spur of the Waianae Mountains they built a residence for Kama-unuaniho, and established her as their priestess, or kahuna. They levied on the neighboring farmers for whatever taro, sweet-potatoes, and bananas they needed. They compelled the fishermen to bring tribute from the sea. They surrounded their homes with pigs and chickens, and in mere wantonness terrorized that part of Oahu.

“Kamapuaa on Oahu and Kauai” While he lived on the Koolau coast he was simply a devastating, brutal monster with certain powers belonging to a demigod, which he used as maliciously as possible. After being driven out to the Honolulu side of the mountains, for a time he led his band of robbers in their various expeditions, but after a time his miraculous powers increased and he went forth terrorizing the island from one end to the other. He had the power of changing himself into any kind of a fish. As a shark and as a hog he was represented as sometimes eating those whom he conquered in battle. He ravaged the fields and chicken preserves of the different chiefs, but it is said never stole or ate pigs or fish. He wandered along the low lands from the taro patches of Ewa to the coconut groves of Waikiki, rooting up and destroying the food of the people. At Kamoiliili he saw two beautiful women coming from the stream that flows from Manoa Valley. He called to them, but when they saw his tattooed body and rough clothing made from pigskins they recognized him and fled. He pursued them, but they were counted as goddesses, having come from divine

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foreign families as well as Kamapuaa. They possessed miraculous powers and vanished when he was ready to place his hands upon them. They sank down into the earth. Kamapuaa changed himself into the form of a great hog and began to root up the stones and soil and break his way through the thick layer of petrified coral through which they had disappeared. He first followed the descent of the woman who had been nearest to him. Down he went through soil and stone after her, but suddenly a great flood of water burst upward through the coral almost drowning him. The goddess had stopped his pursuit by turning an underground stream into the entrance that he had made After this narrow escape, Kamapuaa rushed toward Manoa Valley to the place where he had seen the other beautiful woman disappear. Here also he rooted deep through earth and coral, and here again a new spring of living water was uncovered. He could do nothing against the flood, which threatened his life. The goddesses escaped and the two wells have supplied the people of Kamoiliili for many generations, bearing the name, “The wells, or fountains, of Kamapuaa.” The chief of Waikiki had a fine tract well supplied with bananas and coconuts and taro. Night after night a great black bog rushed through Waikiki destroying all the ripening fruit and even going to the very doors of the grass houses searching out the calabashes filled with poi waiting for fermentation. These calabashes he dashed to the ground, defiling their contents and breaking and unfitting them for further use. A crowd of warriors rushed out to kill this devastating monster. They struck him with clubs and hurled their spears against his bristling sides. The stiff bristles deadened the force of the blows of the clubs and turned the spear-points aside so that he received but little injury. Meanwhile his fierce tusks were destroying the warriors and his cruel jaws were tearing their flesh and breaking their bones. In a short time the few who were able to escape fled from him. The chiefs gathered their warriors again and again, and after many battles drove Kamapuaa from cave to cave and from district to district. Finally he leaped into the sea, changed himself into the form of a fish and passed over the channel to Kauai. He swam westward along the coast, selecting a convenient place for landing, and when night came, sending the people to their sleep, he went ashore. He had marked the location of taro and sugar-cane patches and could easily find them in the night. Changing himself into a black hog he devoured and trampled the sugar-cane, rooted up taro, and upset calabashes, eating the poi and breaking the wooden bowls. Then he fled to a rough piece of land that he had decided upon as his hiding-place. The people were astonished at the devastation when they came from their houses the next morning. Only gods who were angry could have wrought such

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havoc so unexpectedly, therefore they sent sacrifices to the heiaus, that the gods of their homes might protect them. But the next night other fields were made desolate as if a herd of swine had been wantonly at work all through the night. After a time watchmen were set around the fields and the mighty hog was seen. The people were called. They surrounded Kamapuaa, caught him and tied him with strongest cords of olona fibre and pulled him to one side, that on the new day so soon to dawn they might build their oven and roast him for a great feast. When they thought all was finished the hog suddenly burst his bonds, became invisible and leaped upon them, tore them and killed them as he had done on Oahu, then rushed away in the darkness. Again some watchers found him lying at the foot of a steep precipice, sleeping in the daytime. On the edge of the precipice were great boulders, which they rolled down upon him, but he was said to have allowed the stones to strike him and fall shattered in pieces while he sustained very little injury. Then he assumed the form of a man and made his home by a ledge of rock called Kipukai. Here there was a spring of very sweet water, which lay in the form of a placid pool of clear depths, reflecting wonderfully whatever shadows fell upon its surface. To this two beautiful sisters were in the habit of coming with their water-calabashes. While they stooped over the water Kamapuaa came near and cast the shadow as a man before them on the clear waters. They both wanted the man as their husband who could cast such a shadow. He revealed himself to them and took them both to be his wives. They lived with him at Kipukai and made fine sleeping mats for him, cultivated food, and prepared it for him to eat. They pounded kapa that he might be well clothed. At that time there were factions on the island of Kauai warring against each other. Fierce hand-to-hand battles were waged and rich spoils carried away. With the coming of Kamapuaa to Kauai, a new and strange appearance wrought terror in the hearts of the warriors whenever a battle occurred. While the conflict was going on and blows were freely given by both club and spear, suddenly a massive war-club would be seen whistling through the air, striking down the chiefs of both parties. Mighty blows were struck by this mysterious club. No hand could be seen holding it, no strong arm swinging it, and no chief near it save those stricken by it. Dead and dying warriors covered the ground in its path. Sometimes when Kamapuaa had been caught in his marauding expedition, he would escape from the ropes tying him, change into a man, seize a club, become invisible, and destroy his captors. He took from the fallen their rich feather war cloaks, carried them to his dwelling-place and concealed them under his mats. The people of Kauai were terrified by the marvelous and powerful being who dwelt in their midst. They believed in the ability of kahunas, or priests, to work

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all manner of evil in strange ways and therefore were sure that some priest was working with evil spirits to compass their destruction. They sought the strongest and most sacred of their own kahunas, but were unable to conquer the evil. Meanwhile Kamapuaa, tired of the two wives, began to make life miserable for them, trying to make them angry, that he might have good excuse for killing them. They knew something of his marvelous powers as a demigod, and watched him when he brought bundles to his house and put them away. The chief’s house then as in later years was separated from the houses of the women and was tabu to them, but they waited until they had seen him go far away. Then they searched his house and found the war cloaks of their friends under his mats. They hastened and told their friends, who plotted to take vengeance on their enemy. The women decided to try to drive the demigod away, so destroyed the spring of water from which they had daily brought water for his need. They also carefully concealed all evidences of other springs. Kamapuaa returned from his adventures and was angry when he found no water waiting for him. He called for the women, but they had hidden themselves. He was very thirsty. He rushed to the place of the spring, but could not find it. He looked for water here and there, but the sisters had woven mighty spells over all the water-holes and he could not see them. In his rage he rushed about like a blind and crazy man. Then the sisters appeared and ridiculed him. They taunted him with his failure to overcome their wiles. They laughed at his suffering. Then in his great anger he leaped upon them, caught them, and threw them over a precipice. As they fell upon the ground he uttered his powerful incantations and changed them into two stones, which for many generations have been guardians of that precipice. Then he assumed the form of a hog and rooted deep in the rocky soil. Soon he uncovered a fountain of water from which he drank deeply, but which he later made bitter and left as a mineral-spring to the present day. The people of Kauai now knew the secret of the wonderful swinging war club. They knew that a hand held it and an invisible man walked beside it, so they fought against a power that they could not see. They felt their clubs strike some solid body even when they struck at the air. Courage came back to them, and at Hanalei the people forced him into a corner, and, carrying stones, tried to fence him in, but he broke the walls down, tore his way through the people, and fled. The high chief of Hanalei threw his magic spear at him as he rushed past, but missed him. The spear struck the mountain-side near the summit and passed through, leaving a great hole through which the sky on the other side of the mountain can still be seen. Kamapuaa decided that he was tired of Kauai, therefore he ran to the seashore, leaped into the water and, becoming a fish, swam away to Hawai’i.

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“Pele and Kamapuaa”

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he three great mountains of Hawai’i had been built many centuries before Pele found an abiding home in the pit of Kilauea. Kilauea itself appears rather as a shelter to which she fled than as a house of her own building. The sea waters quenched the fires built by her at lower levels, forcing her up higher and higher toward the mountains until she took refuge in the maelstrom of eternal fire known for centuries among the Hawaiians as Ka-luao-Pele (The pit of Pele),—the boiling center of the active pit of fire. Some legends say that Kamapuaa drove Pele from place to place by pouring in water. The Kalakaua legends probably give the correct idea of the growths of Peleworship as the goddess of volcanic fires when they say that the Pele family of brave and venturesome high chiefs with their followers settled under the shadows of the smoke-clouds from Kilauea and were finally destroyed by some overwhelming eruption. And yet the destruction was so spectacular, or at least so mysterious, that the idea took firm root that Pele and her brothers and sisters, instead of passing out of existence, entered into the volcano to dwell there as living spirits having the fires of the underworld as their continual heritage. From this home of fire Pele and her sisters could come forth assuming the forms in which they had been seen as human beings. This power has been the cause of many legends about Pele and her adventures with various chiefs whom she at last overwhelmed with boiling floods of lava tossed out of her angry heart. In this way she appeared in different parts of the island of Hawai’i apparently no longer having any fear of danger to her home from incoming seas. The last great battle between sea and fire was connected with Pele as a firegoddess and Kamapuaa, the demigod, part hog and part man. It is a curious legend in which human and divine elements mingle like the changing scenes of a dream. This naturally follows the statement in some of the legends that Ku, one of the highest gods among the Polynesians as well as among the Hawaiians, was an ancestor of Kamapuaa, protecting him and giving him the traits of a demigod. Kamapuaa had passed through many adventures on the islands of Oahu and Kauai, and had lived for a time on Maui. He had, according to some of the legends, developed his mysterious powers so that he could become a fish whenever he wished, so sometimes he was represented as leaping into the sea, diving down to great depth, and swimming until he felt the approach of rising land, then he would come to the surface, call out the name of the island and go ashore for a visit with the inhabitants or dive again and pass on to another island. Thus he is represented as passing to Hawaii after his adventures on the islands of Kauai and Oahu.

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On Hawaii he entered into the sports of the chiefs, gambling, boxing, surfriding, rolling the round ulu maika stone and riding the holua (sled). Here he learned about the wonderful princess from the islands of the southern seas who had made her home in the fountains of fire. Some of the legends say that he returned to Oahu, gathered a company of adherents and then visited the Pele family as a chief of high rank, winning her as his bride and living with her some time, then separating and dividing the island of Hawai’i between them, Pele taking the southern part of the island as the scene for her terrific eruptions, and Kamapuaa ruling over the north, watering the land with gentle showers or with melting snow, or sometimes with fierce storms, until for many centuries fertile fields have rewarded the toil of man. The better legends send Kamapuaa alone to the contest with the fire-goddess, winning her for a time and then entering into a struggle in which both lives were at stake. It is said that one morning when the tops of the mountains were painted by the sunlight from the sea, and the shadows in the valley were creeping under the leaves of the trees of the forests, that Pele and her sisters went down toward the hills of Puna. These sisters were known as the Hiiakas, defined by Ellis, who gives the first account of them, as “the cloud-holders.” Each one had a descriptive title, thus Hiiaka-noho-lani was “the heaven-dwelling cloud-holder,” Hiiaka-ika-poli-o-Pele was “cloud-holder in the bosom of Pele.” There were at least six Hiiakas, and some legends give many more. That morning they heard the sound of a drum in the distance. It was the tum-tum-tum of a hula. Filled with curiosity, they turned aside to see what strangers had invaded their territory. One of the sisters, looking over the plain to a hill not far away, called out, “What a handsome man!” and asked her sisters to mark the finely formed athletic stranger who was dancing gloriously outlined in the splendor of the morning light. Pele scornfully looked and said she saw nothing but a great hog-man whom she would quickly drive from her dominions. Then began the usual war of words with which rival chiefs attacked each other. Pele taunted Kamapuaa, calling him a hog and ascribing to him the characteristics belonging to swine. Kamapuaa became angry and called Pele “the woman with red burning eyes, and an angry heart unfit to be called a chiefess.” Then Pele in her wrath stamped on the ground until earthquakes shook the land around Kamapuaa and a boiling stream of lava rolled down from the mountains above. The stranger, throwing around him the finest tapa, stood unmoved until the flood of fire began to roll up the hill on which he stood. Then, raising his hands and uttering the strongest incantations, he called for heavy rains to fall. Soon the lava became powerless in the presence of the stranger. Then Pele tried her magical powers

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to see if she could subdue this stranger, but his invocations seemed to be stronger than those falling from her lips, and she gave up the attempt to destroy him. Pele was always a cruel, revengeful goddess, sweeping away those against whom her wrath might be kindled, even if they were close friends of her household. The sisters finally prevailed upon her to send across to the hill inviting the stranger, who was evidently a high chief, to come and visit them. As the messenger started to bring the young man to the sisters he stepped into the shadows, and the messenger found nothing but a small hog rooting among the ferns. This happened day after day until Pele determined to know this stranger chief who always succeeded in thoroughly hiding himself, no matter how carefully the messengers might search. At last the chant of the hula and the dance of the sisters on the smooth pahoehoe of a great extinct lava bed led the young man to approach. Pele revealed herself in her rare and tempting beauty, calling with a sweet voice for the stranger to come and rest by her side while her sisters danced. Soon Pele was overcome by the winning strength of this great chief, and she decided to marry him. So they dwelt together in great happiness for a time, sometimes making their home in one part of Puna and sometimes in another. The places where they dwelt are pointed out even at this day by the natives who know the traditions of Puna. But Kamapuaa had too many of the habits and instincts of a hog to please Pele, besides she was too quickly angry to suit the overbearing Kamapuaa. Pele was never patient even with her sisters, so with Kamapuaa she would burst into fiery rage, while taunts and bitter words were freely hurled back and forth. Then Pele stamped on the ground, the earth shook, cracks opened in the surface and sometimes clouds of smoke and steam arose around Kamapuaa. He was unterrified and matched his divine powers against hers. It was demigod against demigoddess. It was the goddess of fire of Hawaii against the hog-god of Oahu. Pele’s home life was given up. The bitterness of strife swept over the black sands of the seashore. When the earth seemed ready to open its doors and pour out mighty streams of flowing lava in the defense of Pele, Kamapuaa called for the waters of the ocean to rise. Then flood met fire and quenched it. Pele was driven inland. Her former lover, hastening after her and striving to overcome her, followed her upward until at last amid clouds of poisonous gases she went back into her spirit home in the pit of Kilauea. Then Kamapuaa as a god of the sea gathered the waters together in great masses and hurled them into the fire pit. Violent explosions followed the inrush of waters. The sides of the great crater were torn to pieces by fierce earthquakes. Masses of fire expanded the water into steam, and Pele gathered the forces of the underworld to aid in driving back Kamapuaa. The lavas rose in many lakes and fountains. Rapidly the surface was cooled and the fountains checked, but just as rapidly were new openings made and new streams of fire hurled at the demigod

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of Oahu. It was a mighty battle of the elements. The legends say that the hogman, Kamapuaa, poured water into the crater until its fires were driven back to their lowest depths and Pele was almost drowned by the floods. The clouds of the skies had dropped their burden of rain. All the waters of the sea that Kamapuaa could collect had been poured into the crater. Fornander gives a part of the prayer of Kamapuaa against Pele. His appeal was directly to the gods of water for assistance. He cried for ... “The great storm clouds of skies,” while Pele prayed for “The bright gods of the underworld, The gods thick-clustered for Pele.” It was the duty of the Pele family to stir up volcanic action, create explosions, hurl lava into the air, make earthquakes, and blow out clouds of flames and smoke and sulphurous-burdened fumes against all enemies of Pele. Into the conflict against Kamapuaa rushed the gods of Po, the underworld, armed with spears of flashing fire, and hurling sling-stones of lava. The storms of bursting gases and falling lavas were more than Kamapuaa could endure. Gasping for breath and overwhelmed with heat, he found himself driven back. The legends say that Pele and her sisters drank the waters, so that after a time there was no check against the uprising lava. The pit was filled and the streams of fire flowed down upon Kamapuaa. He changed his body into a kind of grass now known as Ku-kae-puaa, and tried to stop the flow of the lava. Apparently the grass represented the bristles covering his body when he changed himself into a hog. Kamapuaa has sometimes been called the Samson of Hawaiian traditions, and it is possible that a Biblical idea has crept into the modern versions of the story. Delilah cut Samson’s hair and he became weak. The Hawaiian traditions say that if Kamapuaa’s bristles could be burned off he would lose his power to cope with Pele’s forces of fire. When the grass lay in the pathway of the fire, the lava was turned aside for a time, but Pele, inspired by the beginning of victory, called anew upon the gods of the underworld for strong reinforcements. Out from the pits of Kilauea came vast masses of lava piling up against the field of grass in its pathway and soon the grass began to burn; then Kamapuaa assumed again the shape of a man, the hair or bristles on his body were singed and the smart of many burns began to cause agony. Down he rushed to the sea, but the lava spread out on either side, cutting off retreat along the beach. Pele followed close behind, striving to overtake him before he could reach the water. The side streams had reached the sea, and the water was rapidly heated into tossing, boiling waves. Pele threw great masses of lava at Kamapuaa, striking and churning the sea into which he leaped midst the swirling heated mass.

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Kamapuaa gave up the battle, and, thoroughly defeated, changed himself into a fish. To that fish he gave the tough pigskin that he assumed when roaming over the islands as the hog-man. It was thick enough to stand the boiling waves through which he swam out into the deep sea. The Hawaiians say that this fish has always been able to make a noise like the grunting of a small pig. To this fish was given the name “humu-humu-nuku-nuku-a-puaa.” It was said that Kamapuaa fled to foreign lands, where he married a high chiefess and lived with his family many years. At last the longing for his homeland came over him irresistibly and he returned, appearing as a humu-humu in his divine place among the Hawaiian fishes, but never again taking to himself the form of a man. Since this conflict with Kamapuaa, Pele has never feared the powers of the sea. Again and again has she sent her lava streams over the territory surrounding her fire pit in the volcano Kilauea, and has swept the seashore, even pouring her lavas into the deep sea, but the ocean has never retaliated by entering into another conflict to destroy Pele and her servants. Kamapuaa was the last who poured the sea into the deep pit. The friends of Lohiau, a prince from the island of Kauai, waged warfare with Pele, tearing to pieces a part of the crater in which she dwelt; but it was a conflict of land forces, and in its entirety is one of the very interesting tales handed down by Hawaiian tradition. Kamapuaa figured to the last days of Pele-worship in the sacrifices offered to the fire-goddess. The most acceptable sacrifice to Pele was supposed to be puaa (a hog). If a hog could not be secured when an offering was necessary, the priest would take the fish humu-humu-nuku-nuku-a-puaa and throw it into the pit of fire. If the hog and the fish both failed, the priest would offer any of the things into which, it was said in their traditions, Kamapuaa could turn himself.

CENTIPEDE Variant A Tradition Bearer: Annie Lowry Source: Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 229–32. Date: 1914

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The West | Centipede

Original Source: Paviotso (Northern Paiute) National Origin: Native American

Paiute “football” resembles a particularly aggressive version of soccer, including wrestling and kicking both the opponents and the ball. The hand game requires one player to hide a pair of bones in his or her hands (one bone is marked and the other is plain). Sticks are used as counters to keep track of correct guesses. A player from the opposing side (usually a person believed to have visionary power) tries to guess where the unmarked bone is hidden. The hider’s side sings songs that supposedly have the power to block the guesser’s power of supernatural sight. Gambling games of all sorts were regarded as opportunities for demonstrating one’s supernatural power.

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entipede (A’gonidza’Ba) was a great gambler who played the hand-game and football. A large tribe was living in the valley. Men and women would go thence to play with Centipede, but none came back. The members of the tribe went, till all were gone except two girls and a baby boy. These cried for their relatives to come back; they climbed a tree, but could see nothing of their people. They nearly starved. The boy grew up so he was big enough to kill small game, so the girls made him a bow and arrows and told him what animals he should kill. He went out, stayed away for a whole day and came with a lizard. “Well, brother, this is not good to eat.” “All right, grind me some seed tomorrow and I’ll go again.” The next day he went off and came back with a snake. The sisters told him that was not good to eat either. “Very well, grind me some seed, I’ll hunt again.” But every time he brought either a snake or a lizard. One night, at last, he brought a little bird. The girls thought this was fine. “Oh, that’s good, we shall cook it and divide it.” So the boy thought he had done a great thing. He said, “Get up earlier tomorrow, so that I can get another bird.” So the next day he started early and caught sight of a little bird on a bush. It did not try to get away, but when he aimed, it flew to the other side of the bush. At last it spoke to the boy, “Little boy, why do you want to kill me. You

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should not kill me, I’ll tell you something great. Do you know where all your people have gone to?” Still the boy was going to shoot, but the bird spoke again, “No, don’t shoot me, I’ll make a great man of you.” Then the boy stopped and listened, “Little boy, far across the mountain there lives a very bad man. He has killed all your people, cut out their hearts and dried them in his lodge. He has hung up their hands, all together, and the rest of their bodies he has burnt up. You can bring all your people back to life if you listen and do as I tell you.” The boy went on his knees and said, “Little bird, I’ll listen.” “I am going to tell you; get up before sunrise and come here to my nest.” With this he flew to his two eggs. “Come here before sunrise. These are my eggs. Just as you see the rays of the sun, my eggs will begin to wobble. Then hit my eggs, and then there will be little birds under you, which will take you through the sky above Centipede, and he won’t see you. Every morning, when the sun gets high, he’s always practicing. When you get above him, spit on his forehead. Then tomorrow morning, come again, I’ll tell you more. I wish to tell you what his place looks like. He always spreads a big red robe, but don’t sit on it.” The boy came home without any game. His sisters asked, “Where is your game?” “I haven’t any.” “What shall we eat?” “Never mind, we’ll soon have our fill.” He was asked, when they should get something for him to eat the next day, but he said, “Never mind about food, I’ll leave very early.” He went to the nest again. When he got up that day he was a handsome man. The bird said, “When you cross the mountain, you’ll be able to see him. If he sees you, he will shake his red robe and spread it, but do not sit on it, sit on the ground. Don’t let him touch you, he will try to get his arms under yours. Choose the game you want to play, you’ll beat him in the end. Don’t play the hand-game, but choose football. You will have to go through a dark place, where it is always night. That is where the Indians lost their ball and thus lost the game, after which he burnt them up. Those two eggs of mine shall go with you, but Centipede will not see them. One will be the Gopher, the other Owl. Owl will sit on the right side in the dark place and blink his eyes, so it will be light for you. Gopher will be on the other side and dig a hole, so that Centipede will lose his ball in it. When you have beaten him, he’ll be very apt to want to pay you in hearts and hands, but don’t take them. Take him by the arm and burn him up. There is just one of your people left, but he is so burnt that he has turned into the crow.” The boy struck the eggs and went flying through the air. He landed on top of a mountain. He saw Centipede shaking his red blanket. Gopher and Owl

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The West | Centipede

were with the boy, but the boy could not see them though he heard them talking. Centipede washed and brushed himself and said, “What a handsome man is coming.” When the boy arrived, Centipede asked him to sit down on the blanket, but he would not do so, sitting on the ground instead. Centipede asked, “Why is it you do not want to sit on my blanket but want to soil your clothes?” He went inside his wikiup and got his hand-game sticks, but the boy said, “No, I came to play football.” “All right, whatever you say. “He got ready, went into his lodge and brought two balls. “Choose your ball.” The boy chose the right one, and they went to the starting-place. Both began to run. When he got to the dark place the boy did not know where he was, but Owl blinked his eyes, so that he saw his ball, got out, carried it to the goal and was bringing it back while Centipede was still in the dark place, for Gopher had dug a hole and his ball had rolled into it. The boy returned to the starting place, and when Centipede saw he had lost he went no farther but returned and said, “My boy, you have won, come to my lodge and choose whatever you want for your prize.” “No, I don’t want to go in there, I want you for my prize.” “Oh, no. I’ll give you anything I have.” “No, I want you.” The boy took hold of him and seized him, so he could not get away, although Centipede was much bigger. Centipede always had a big fire burning. The boy pulled him toward the fire. Centipede could not get away. Crow recognized the boy, hopped up to him, and said, “I’ll help you throw him in, that is what he did to all our people.” They threw him in and held him down with the fire-tongs he had used on other people until he was burnt up. Crow took him to Centipede’s lodge, which was full of hearts and hands. The boy did not touch the hands, but he and Crow carried out the hearts, which were so dried up and shrunken that they two could carry them all. As the boy traveled homeward, he buried the hearts in a damp place every night. The third night he was not far away. He went to his sisters. They asked, “Where have you been?” “I have been hunting.” “We are nearly starved and famished.”—“Never mind, you’ll forget that when all our people come back.” On the third morning, before sunrise, the sisters woke up, while their brother pretended to be asleep. They heard laughter and conversation. “Wake up brother, hear all the people coming.” They were afraid and were going to run away, but he said, “Those are our parents and relatives.” Thus he got them back. The crow now hops because his legs were burnt in Centipede’s fire.

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Variant B Tradition Bearer: Railroad Tom

Centipede was living south in a valley. He was a good ball player. He would play with two balls and those who lost were thrown into the fire. Chickenhawk (Tu’kiwi’na) was his opponent. He had a wife, two daughters, and a child just old enough to walk. He played against Centipede, lost, and was killed. The little boy at home tried to get out of his cradle. His sisters stopped all the holes in the house and took him out of his basket. He wished to follow his parents, but his sisters would not let him. When he was old enough to hunt, they made a bow and arrows for him and he went out and killed birds and fetched them home. Once he was hunting and tried to get close to a bird that began to speak to him as follows, “Boy, you had better not shoot me, let me alone, and I’ll tell you something. Your father and mother went to a certain place and never returned. Do you remember that? I’ll tell you about that. Boy, lay an egg.” He laid an egg, and the bird told him to use it for a ball. He was going to kick it with his foot but when he did it broke into pieces. Then he laid another egg; when he kicked this he could not break it, it was like a ball. The boy kicked it to the top of a mountain and thence to another mountain. Thus he trained himself. Woodpecker said he would help the boy. “My sister’s son, I will help you.” Another person promised to dig where they were going to play. Big Owl said he too would help. “When they go along at night, I’ll open my eyes and make it light for them.” In the night it was dark for playing ball, that was why he said this. The boy trained, then he went over to Centipede. He spat on him. Centipede looked at the sky but did not see anything. It was like rain. “I don’t know where the rain comes from.” There were no clouds. Centipede had killed and beaten many people in the game. He made a fire where the game was played, threw in his defeated opponents and took off their hair. He scattered this all over and when visitors came he told them to sit down on the hair. When the boy arrived, he bade him sit down, but the boy merely stepped on it, then went some distance away and sat down there. He had three comrades who did likewise. Centipede was keeping Crow as a prisoner; Centipede had cut Crow’s knees and allowed his children to urinate on Crow. There were four men to play ball for each side. They started at the same time. They got into a dark place, but Owl opened his eyes and it was like daylight for

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The West | The Theft of Pine Nuts

the boy while Centipede was in the dark. Until they got to this place Centipede had been in the lead, but now the boy overtook and passed him. Woodpecker made a hole for the ball to go into. The boy got out of the cave while Centipede was still in there, then he kicked the ball once and got back to the starting-point and goal. Centipede’s sons thought it was their father, but it was his opponents. When Crow saw who had won, he said, “Get something to cure my leg, so I can help you.” The boy got a stick and put it in place of the old leg making it well again. Long after this Centipede arrived. He had a big forehead. After sitting down he said, “I’ll give you beads to ransom myself from the fire.” “No, I will not accept this pay, you have killed many people and I’ll do the same to you.” Centipede cried when he was thrown into the fire. As leader of his party he was thrown in first, then all his family. This is what he had done to other people. He had taken out people’s eyeballs and hung them up on ropes. The boy took all of these home. In the evening he placed them into wet earth over-night, then took them out again. Thus he restored to life the people whose eyeballs had been strung up.

THE THEFT OF PINE NUTS Tradition Bearer: Humboldt Joe Source: Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 217–20. Date: 1914 Original Source: Paviotso (Northern Paiute) National Origin: Native American

The primary function of the following myth is to emphasize the importance of the pine nut as a food source by making it the object of a war among the animals. A second major theme in the narrative is the role of supernatural power in attaining success in any enterprise. Coyote— like all tricksters—manifests power, but it is typically limited by his character flaws. Crow wields power that is unlimited by Coyote’s weakness and therefore succeeds in overcoming obstacles that have stymied

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the trickster. Wolf, the model of the leader who uses persuasion rather than coercion, proves to be powerful as well by bringing himself and his followers back to life after having been killed and dismembered.

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oyote and Wolf were brothers. They lived in the eastern Pine-Nut Range. Squirrels, cottontails, the crow, and all the four-footed animals lived there. One day they were playing the hand-game. The crow felt strangled on something that smelled a peculiar way. All of them began to wonder what it could be. Coyote got up to see whence the odor came. First he went south, then west, then east. When turned north, he found where the smell had come from. It was late in the afternoon and he said, “I’ll see what it is.” He started out. “Let steps be made into miles, so I can get there quickly.” He made the trip in a short time and soon arrived where the other tribe was living. They were the Crane people. He sat down and watched for what it was. When the little ones passed with pine-nuts in their hands, he tried to poke their fingers so as to get one. Crane was chief. He was suspicious of Coyote, so he made a speech to his people, telling them not to make the pine-nut mush thick as usual, but to make it very thin. They did so and gave Coyote some of it. When they gave him a cupful of the soup, he wanted to take it home but did not know how. He put some into his mouth, but then he swallowed it. Then he tried to put some in his coyote robe, but being so thin it ran through and could not be held. “I cannot take any home,” he thought, “but I’ll run home and tell them about it. Let steps be made into miles, so I may get home soon,” he said. He got home and told his brother what a fine meal he had had with his brothers from afar and had found the food detected by the Crow. Wolf then made a speech telling the people of Coyote’s find and bade all the animals get ready to go for what Coyote had found. Everyone went with Coyote and Wolf except Hummingbird who said, “I’ll stay home and keep the place. I’ll watch for you and when I see you returning I’ll make a big fire and smoke myself.” While on their way they had to hunt deer to live on. They traveled all day. In the night they stopped and had no water there. All were pretty thirsty and said, “What shall we do without water tonight? Somebody ought to get us some.” They talked it over and decided that Coyote should get the water for them. He was to get all the marrow from the deer bones as his reward when he got back.

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Coyote took a jug and went for water. While he was gone, the rest said he was getting too much pay for his work and that someone with a sharp bill ought to remove the marrow from some of the bones; that they should pile the good bones on top so that Coyote might not notice the deception at first. Hummingbird said, “I’ll do it.” So he took out the marrow of about half the bones, then they piled the bad ones under the good bones. When Coyote got back, all hurried to get a drink of water before he should find out. While he was eating the good bones on top, they made haste and drank the water. When he got to the empty ones, he broke one bone after another. He got angry and was going to empty the water, but all the people had had their drink, so only a little was left. The people gave him a little fat then, but Lizard came along and fell into it while it was boiling. Lizard did not get hurt. Coyote was angry and chased Lizard, who ran into the river. There Coyote could not follow, so he said, “Your name will be Fish hereafter, not Lizard any more. The Lizards outside the water shall be black.” Crane’s people were suspicious, so they made a canyon on the road close up with slippery ice, so that Coyote’s people could not pass. The next morning they reached this canyon. Coyote was going to show the other people what he could do and scratched the ice, but that did not help. The Crows were there and Coyote said to them, “What do you think will happen to you black things? I am a mighty man, still I cannot pass.” Coyote made fun of them. One of the Crows said, “We’ll show him that we are mightier than he is. One of us will fly so high and come down so hard as to crack the ice.” Another Crow said, “I’ll go up the second time and come down so as to break it in so many pieces that each one will be able to pass.” So one crow flew high up and roared like the thunder. Coyote looked up and said, “There is nothing up there, only a little red cloud.” The Crow came down so that the ice cracked with a terrible thud. Then the second Crow went up and came down with still greater force, breaking the ice all up, so that the people could pass through. Now Coyote said, “It is a very good thing you have done, my sister’s son, I’ll be the first one to pass.” But he had on his back such a load of wild flax for netting that he got caught in the narrow passage and could not get through. So everyone jostled him and got ahead of him, and he was the last to go through. At last they got to Crane’s people. When they got there, the first thing they were going to have a hand-game. They began to play and continued till toward morning. The Cranes were winning, but then Crow got into the game and then his side began to win in turn. Crow was a very handsome man; he wore a pebble necklace, and today his neck is still very pretty.

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While this gambling was going on, the Mice were looking for the pine-nuts, which the Cranes had hidden in a tree-trunk, so that none of the large animals could find them. The Mice looked everywhere without finding what they sought. At last one of them ran to the top of a tree, and at the top there was an old bow, and in the middle of the bow there was a pine-nut. Just at daybreak the Mice reported they had found the nut. When Coyote heard of it he said, “I’ll make them all sleep. We’ll take the pine-nut home with us” But the nut was so high up that nothing but a bird could get it. They said to the Wood-peckers, “You go and break the tree in two, and take out the nut.” Woodpecker said, “Our bills are not strong enough.” Another Wood-pecker said, “We’ll put our two bills together, then they’ll be strong enough.” So they put the two bills together and one of them flew up with a long bill and broke the tree. Thus he got the nut out. When he got it he set out straight for home. Wolf said, “Do you all go first, I’ll follow in the rear.” When Crane awoke and found the nuts were taken he made a speech. “We are starving. If there’s an orphan here, you had better kill him, feed on him, and then we’ll be able to chase those people with the nut.” Crane’s people did so and then gave chase. They overtook the Wolf’s people. First they killed Wolf and cut him all up but could not find the nut in him. They killed one after another and searched for the nuts in their bodies. Coyote was among the foremost and he said to his companions who carried the nut, “Give me the nut, nephew, I can run very fast.” But the others said, “No, don’t give it to him, or he’ll swallow it.” Coyote was killed. Then Crow and Chickenhawk were the only ones left. After a while no one was left but Chickenhawk. He looked back and saw that all the rest were killed, so he said, “May my thigh be inflamed and malodorous, then I’ll put the nut in this bad spot and they won’t find it.” They caught him and were going to kill him, but his odor was so bad, that they took him by the neck and threw him away thinking, “The nut would not taste well if it were in him.” So they turned back to the rest of his party and examined each one. “Well our nut is gone, I suppose that stinking one has it.” The Chickenhawk by this time was pretty far on his way back. When Wolf saw that the Cranes were gone, he revived and restored all the other people to life. Then they returned to their own country. Wolf and Coyote took the nut, took a bite of it, and sprinkled it allover the mountains, so that pine-nut trees should grow there.

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The West | Prairie Falcon’s Contest with Meadowlark

Wolf said to Coyote, “Don’t swallow any of it, lest juniper trees be mingled with the nut trees, we want them all to be nut trees.” But Coyote swallowed some, so when he besprinkled the mountains, they were half covered with junipers and half with pine-nuts. Where Wolf sprinkled, there were only pine-nut trees. When Crane got back, he spoke to his people. “I don’t know what we’ll do, the trees are here, but there are no cones. I am going to follow, I will not stay here, I’ll share my food with those people.” He started and crossed the mountains. Looking this way he saw smoke all along the mountains, where they were cooking nuts. When Crane saw the smoke, he said, I am going right over there.” When they saw him coming, they said, “Place all the rotten ones in one place and tell him to sit there and help himself.” He carne, sat down and helped himself, but the food was rotten. They did this because his bill was so long that they were afraid he would not leave anything for the other birds. Blue-jay picked out some good nuts for Crane and gave them to him, but as soon as he touched them they turned into rotten ones. Crane said, “You live here in the mountains on food taken from us. I’ll go to the valley and live on moss and seeds.” When he said this, he began to fly. An old woman got a stick and hit him, knocking his tail off. When he saw that he had no tail, he took the ends of his feet and made a little tail for himself. He went to the valley. This is why he never goes to the mountains any more.

PRAIRIE FALCON’S CONTEST WITH MEADOWLARK Tradition Bearer: Chipo Source: Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 352–54. Date: 1918 Original Source: Western Mono (California) National Origin: Native American

Prairie Falcon as a heroic character is unique to the tales of Native American Central California. Again, Coyote provides a contrast to the

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more sensible figures in the fact that he misses the opportunity to become an eagle by underestimating his own abilities. This narrative of closely parallels the Northern Paiute “Centipede” (p. 326), which revolves around a ball game in which death awaits the loser. As in the Paiute tale, Prairie Falcon is assisted by his mother’s brothers. In many cultures the maternal uncle serves a special role as tutor and patron in a young male’s life.

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agle was chief. He was up on a high smooth rock, looking at the people. “I will take care of you people, now,” he said. “I am the chief. I am going to be the greatest chief in the world. I am going to sit here in this bright light and look like the sun all of the time. I will call all of you my children. I will look after you. I will take care of all you children.” Prairie Falcon and Crow came and settled down close to Eagle’s place. The two were great friends and they camped together. Eagle said, “You folks must stay right there. You will have to stay there altogether, now.” Prairie Falcon and Crow practiced shooting each other with bow and arrows. Crow asked Prairie Falcon, “What on earth are you doing?” “Oh, nothing, nothing at all,” responded the latter. Then Prairie Falcon and Crow set out on a journey, but before they started the former sang on the edge of the cliff. Prairie Falcon made a wooden shinny ball, but every time he tried the ball it broke. He said to himself, “What can I do now? If I cannot get a proper shinny stick, what am I to do?” Every time he struck the ball it broke. He returned home each night and every time he came home, he brought a mountain quail with him. Then he would set out again in the morning for the same place. When he arrived there he made shinny balls. Two sisters of Prairie Falcon’s, both Cormorants, lived with him. These two girls were playing ball one evening when Prairie Falcon brought home a number of mountain quails for supper. Next morning, when he went back to the place where he was making balls, he found an egg presumably laid by one of his sisters. As soon as he struck the egg it gave evidence of being about to hatch, for a chick made a peeping noise within it. Then he tried the egg with his shinny stick and found that it served admirably as a shinny ball. Moreover, it kept going once he struck it.

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The West | Prairie Falcon’s Contest with Meadowlark

“This is just what I want,” he said, very much pleased. He took great care of the egg and, taking it with him, set out on a journey down to the plains. He set out to see that place down on the plains where formerly gambling contests were held. Meadowlark lived at that place, and it was he whom Prairie Falcon went to see and with whom he arranged a shinny contest. Upon returning home, Prairie Falcon said to his two sisters, “We are going to Meadowlark’s place down on the plains to gamble. Now we will start.” So they set out. Prairie Falcon’s people had been worsted by Meadowlark in an earlier contest. They had all forfeited their lives and been skinned by Meadowlark and his people. A great swarm of flies infested the place where the killing and skinning had taken place. Coyote came to the place. “What is wrong that there are so many flies here?” he thought to himself, as they swarmed about him and hummed in his ears. Just then Coyote heard Prairie Falcon singing as he was passing. “Well,” said Coyote, “that must be my sister’s son.” Then he asked him about the presence of the swarm of flies. “My people,” answered Prairie Falcon, “were all killed here, so I am going again to Meadow-lark’s place on the plains for another contest.” “What can I do alone here?” asked Coyote. “I want to go with you.” Prairie Falcon and Coyote travelled until they reached the house of Owl, also the mother’s brother of the former. Prairie Falcon said to Owl, “My uncle, I may never return, for I am going down to the plains for another contest with Meadowlark.” “I will be in the contest myself,” said Owl. “I shall blind your opponent. That is what I will do.” Gopher was the next individual that the travelers encountered; and he said, “I shall go along. I shall make holes for your opponent’s ball to roll into.” The party rested for a while and Prairie Falcon sang while they rested. Next they came to Skunk’s camp. Skunk, too, volunteered to go, saying, “I will go along. I shall fix things for you. I will turn loose my scent bag and they will not be able to bear my odor. I will go along.” Swan, another mother’s brother of Prairie Falcon’s, was the next person whose camp was visited. “My uncle,” asked Prairie Falcon, “what are you going to do to help me?” “I am going along,” said Swan, “and I shall trumpet to confuse your opponent.” When the party arrived at Meadowlark’s place, Prairie Falcon erected his house right beside the ground on which the contest was to take place. The following morning the game started, Prairie Falcon playing against Meadowlark, a fat man and chief of the plains tribe. Just before the game commenced there was much shouting to the prospective players. “Get ready. Finish your meal. We are going to start now.”

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Girls of Meadowlark’s tribe poked fun at Prairie Falcon’s people. “See the gambling. See the gambling,” they cried. Prairie Falcon’s people did not allow this to perturb them but remained quiet. “You have a pretty good ball,” said Meadowlark as he examined Prairie Falcon’s. “Let us trade balls.” But Prairie Falcon would not do so. The game started in earnest and the players drove their balls as far as the Coast Range (Panakap); then they turned and drove back. “Look at them coming,” shouted Meadowlark’s daughter, and then to Meadowlark’s wife she said, “Look at them coming. Your husband is ahead.” Prairie Falcon had been behind him since they had started the game. In fact, he had fallen far behind him. However, when Meadowlark made a turn, Prairie Falcon drove ahead of him. Prairie Falcon looked back and saw Meadowlark behind him. A crowd of people stood by the hole into which the ball of the winner was to be driven. Prairie Falcon won the game. “Well, you win already,” said Meadowlark. “You had better take my wife. Do not say anything to me any more about playing this game. I will give you my daughter, too. I wish I could give you all of the beads I have.” “You destroyed all of my people, burned them alive,” sternly replied Prairie Falcon.” Now give me back their skins. Give them back to me.” “All right, I will return them to you,” said Meadowlark, and he did so. Meadowlark’s people had started a big fire in anticipation of his winning and of again destroying Prairie Falcon’s followers by casting them into the flames. The latter’s people now turned the tables and cast Meadowlark’s people into the flames alive, burning them all. After the massacre of Meadowlark’s people, Prairie Falcon and his followers returned to their hill homes. As they returned Prairie Falcon left each of his uncles at his proper place. Upon arriving home, he buried all of the skins that he had brought with him. He said to his people, “Lie quiet tonight. I am burying the skins and I want you all to sit still and listen for any sounds that they may make.” The skins were then buried where their owners formerly had lived. Towards morning the listeners heard the skins remark, “Is it not cold? Is it not cold?” The Cormorant girls then set fire all around where the skins were buried. After that all of the people came out of the places where their skins had been buried. Then they began to pound acorns that day. “I think that we people are going to fly from our nest,” said Prairie Falcon. “All right,” the people said. Then Prairie Falcon told Coyote to get a bucket of water, saying, “You go for the water and when you return you will turn into Eagle

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The West | Coyote and the Grizzly Bears

and fly.” Coyote scratched the dirt in happiness over his prospective transformation. They all started to fly and shouted to Coyote as he was getting the water. Coyote said, “Well, I must climb up the tree. I will get there too just the same. The shadows look pretty close,” he continued as he mounted the tree. “I will soon catch up with them, once I have reached the top of this tree.” Having reached the top, he tried to fly, but fell to the ground with a thud. Then he went to the camp, seeking a bow and arrows. He went to where they were cooking acorns. “I can eat acorn bread anyway,” he said by way of solace. When he tried to eat the acorn bread it turned into stone. Then he scratched around and saw a gopher at work. He sneaked up to the gopher and caught him. “Ah!” he cried,” I shall live anyhow.” Then he smacked his lips and laughed all over.

COYOTE AND THE GRIZZLY BEARS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dixon, Roland B. “Some Coyote Stories from the Maidu Indians of California.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 267–68. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maidu National Origin: Native American

Historically, the Maidu inhabited the region of the Sacramento River east of the Crest of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. They gathered plant foods, fished and hunted a wide variety of animals. Coyote was one of the protein sources that was strictly avoided, however. As seen in “Coyote and the Grizzly Bears”(p. 339) and “How the Coyote Married His Daughter” (p. 341), there is little of the culture hero in this trickster. His cunning allows him to defeat his adversaries, but these confrontations are always to serve his own ends. The Maidu characteristically use some variant of the formulaic closing “All people can call me Coyote” to signify that this trick was in keeping with his nature.

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ong ago the Coyote and the Grizzly Bears had a falling out. There were two Bears who had a couple of small birds, called Pitsititi. Whenever the Bears went down to the valley to get berries, they left these two birds at home. Once, while the Bears were away, the Coyote came to the Bears’ camp, and asked the two little birds whether the Bears gave them enough to eat. Said the little birds, “No, they do not; we are always hungry.” The Coyote then asked whether there was any food in the camp, and the birds told him that there was, the Bears keeping a large supply on hand. Said the Coyote, “If you will show me the food, I will get up a fine dinner, and then we can all eat.” The little birds agreed, and the Coyote prepared the food, and all had a great feast. When they were all through, the Coyote took up a small stick from the ground, thrust it into his nose to draw blood, and then with the blood marked a red stripe on the heads of the birds, and said, “When the Bears come back and ask you two who did this, say, ‘The Coyote did it.’” Then the Coyote went off down the hill into the valley where the Bears were picking berries, and shouted from the side-hill, “Get out of there! That ground belongs to my grandmother.” Then he went back up the hill to his own camp. The two Bears came home, and when they saw the birds, asked them who had been there, and painted their heads with red. The two little birds answered that it was the Coyote. The Bears were very angry. They wanted to have their revenge, so they set out for the Coyote’s camp. Before they reached it, however, the Coyote had made all his preparations to receive them. He let the fire go out, cluttered up the camp with filth, then lay down beside the fireplace, and blew the ashes up into the air, so that they settled on him as he lay there, and made it appear as if he had not been out of the camp for a long time. He meant to deny everything that the two little birds had said, and claim to have been sick for a long while. The Bears on their part had made plans also. Said one, “I will go in after him, while you stay by the smoke-hole outside, and catch him if he tries to escape by that way.” They both carried sharp-pointed digging-sticks. The first Bear went into the hut, and found the Coyote lying by the fireplace, groaning. The Bear asked him what the trouble was, and the Coyote replied, “Oh, I’m sick.” To this the Bear said, “I don’t believe you. You have been down at my camp, and made trouble there.” “No, I haven’t,” said the Coyote, “I’ve been sick up here for a long time.” “But the birds said that you had been down at the camp, and had marked their heads with red, and eaten up all the food,” replied the Bear.

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The West | How the Coyote Married His Daughter

The Coyote, however, stoutly denied that he had been to the Bears’ camp, and repeated the statement that he had been lying sick in his hut for a long time. “I’ve been here sick,” he said, “and have heard the children playing round outside, but no one has come in to see how I was.” At this moment the Bear made a thrust at the Coyote with the sharp stick. The Coyote dodged, crying, as he did so, “Whee.” The Bear struck again, but this time the Coyote jumped up through the smoke-hole, and escaped. The other Bear, who was stationed at the smoke-hole, struck at the Coyote as he passed, but missed him. As soon as he was clear of the hut, the Coyote ran to a big log, where he had hidden his bow and arrows. The Bears followed as fast as they could, crying, “Hurry up, there, hurry up! We’ll catch him, and make a quiver out of his skin.” The Coyote jumped over the log to where his bow was, and got it and his arrows all ready. He waited for the Bears to jump up on the log. The one that had been at the smoke-hole reached the log first, jumped up on it, and was shot by the Coyote at once. The other Bear came next, and was likewise shot by the Coyote. When he had killed both the Bears, he came out from behind the log, and said, “All people can call me Coyote.”

HOW THE COYOTE MARRIED HIS DAUGHTER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Dixon, Roland B. “Some Coyote Stories from the Maidu Indians of California.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 270. Date: 1899 Original Source: Maidu National Origin: Native American

Again, the Maidu Coyote displays the antisocial aspect of trickster. Coyote’s sham cremation suggests that the tale originated among the hill-dwelling division of the Maidu; the valley and mountain dwellers buried, rather than cremated, their dead. Even with this more serious social violation, Coyote ends this tale, like “Coyote and the Grizzly Bears” (p. 339), with a flippant “People can call me Coyote.”

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ne of the Coyote’s daughters was a very beautiful girl. The Coyote was very fond of her, and was always scheming as to how he might succeed in marrying her. One day a plan occurred to him. He made believe that he was sick, and lay there, groaning. He told his family that he was going to die, and instructed them to prepare a scaffold three or four feet high of boughs to burn his body on. The Coyote’s wife and daughters prepared everything according to directions, and gathered a great quantity of sage-brush to put under the scaffold when the time came to burn the body. The Coyote told them that when they had once started the fire, they were to go away at once, and not look back. Soon after telling them this, the Coyote made believe he was dead. His family carried out his orders, and, having lit the fire under his body, went away crying. As soon as they were gone, the Coyote jumped down from the scaffold, and went off. Two or three days after he came back, and meeting his daughter, made love to her. After a while he married her. A week or two after they were married, the old woman who had been the Coyote’s wife before suspected that there was something wrong. She suspected that the man who had married her daughter was really her own husband whom they had thought dead. One day, when the Coyote had gone out hunting, the old woman said to her daughter, “I think that you have married your father.” The old woman knew that the Coyote had a scar on the back of his head, which was due to an old wound. So she told her daughter to try to get her husband to let her hunt for lice on his head, when she would have an opportunity to see if he had a scar. After several days the young girl succeeded in getting her husband to let her hunt for lice on his head, and in a minute she found the scar. She said, “Now I have found you out; you are my father.” The Coyote jumped up and laughed till his sides ached, then he said, “People can call me Coyote.”

COYOTE AND WOLF Tradition Bearer: Tom Austin Source: Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 212–13. Date: 1914 Original Source: Paviotso (Northern Paiute) National Origin: Native American

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The West | Coyote and Wolf

Wolf and Coyote appear in this tale as their usual Northern Paiute role of brothers (see “The Theft of Pine Nuts,” p. 331). Again, Wolf is sensible, and Coyote is impulsive but powerful. His curiosity leads to Wolf’s death, but Coyote brings him back to life from his scalp.

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oyote and Wolf were living together on the other side of the mountains. They were brothers, Wolf being the elder one. Coyote went a little ways from their home and came upon a great many people coming after Wolf. He went back home and told Wolf: “I found plenty of people coming against you.” Wolf sent Coyote for arrows. He brought them all ready for use. The enemy began to attack Wolf. Wolf said to Coyote, “Stay indoors and don’t look at the fight.” He fastened all the doors to keep Coyote inside during the battle, then he began to fight the enemy. Coyote was eager to look on, he jumped all over in his attempts to see. At last he made a hole in the top of the lodge. As soon as he saw his brother, Wolf was killed; that is why he had ordered Coyote not to look. Wolf had killed lots of people, and now there are plenty of little rocks where the people were killed; the Paiute can see them even today. The enemy took off Wolf’s hair and went away to their home. Coyote was grieving and followed them. At their home the enemy danced, putting the hair on a long stick. After traveling a long way, Coyote found one of the enemy’s old campsites. When he got closer to them he found a campfire still aglow. Then he thought he would soon overtake them. He caught up with the people and asked for the chief’s house; they told him it was where someone’s hair was hanging up. So he went there and said, “I want to see what this thing is.” The chief gave him the hair. Coyote looked at it and recognized it as his brother’s hair. He returned it to the chief who hung it up again. It was in the evening. People began to dance, and Coyote sang for them. He sang for them until daylight. Then everyone fell asleep. Coyote alone continued to dance. Two old women who had not danced at all were sitting outside. Coyote took his brothers’ hair and ran homeward. The two old women saw it. They had suspected Coyote of being Wolf’s brother even during the dance. Now they roused their people, “Don’t sleep any more, he has taken that hair away with him. You had better get up and chase him.” So they pursued him and ran him down, took the hair away and brought it back to the dance ground.


Coyote tried to get the scalp again. He changed himself into a woman. He made lots of people to help him. He went back to the dance ground and being a woman he went among the women. He made a baby and took it over to the women. The baby was crying. The other women said, “Let us see the baby.” Coyote replied, “No, I don’t want to give it to other women.” The others said, “You smell like a man.” He said, “I am married to a man, that is why.” He made a great many men and said to the women, “We’ll go somewhere and hide. Some time a great many bad persons will come and kill all these people. Let us go somewhere else and hide.” So the other women went off with Coyote. They all went to bed. Coyote said, “I am going to sleep at the end of the line.” All the rest went to sleep, but Coyote kept awake. He killed off all the sleeping women. The men he had created went to the dance ground and killed all the men there. Then Coyote went there and got his brother’s hair. He took it home. Every evening, while on the way he soaked the hair in water. Thus he revived him before he got home. Now they were both back home again.

COYOTE AND THE SUN Tradition Bearer: Mrs. Haydon Source: Sapir, Jean. “Yurok Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 41 (1928): 256–57. Date: 1927 Original Source: Yurok National Origin: Native American

The Yurok settled at in Northwestern California on the Pacific Coast at the mouth of the Klamath River. Living in villages of plank houses in winter and foraging in the summer, their subsistence was based on acorns and salmon. The “strings” used for payment are likely to be dentalia strings composed of a type of mollusk shell used as currency in the region. The Yurok Coyote shows himself to be as indestructible as the other Native American variants of this trickster.

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The West | Coyote and the Sun

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oyote had a wife and children. In the springtime, when there was a great deal of grass, the children once went out picking grass. There was a shower and then snow, and those children were frozen and did not come home. Coyote went looking for his children and found them frozen. He came home and told his wife that he was going away, that he was going to kill the sun because his children had frozen to death. So Coyote started out with some sharp rocks. He stopped right where he had always seen the sun come out of the mountain in the morning. Next morning he saw the sun come out away over there, so he started out again. He stopped where he had seen the sun come out and waited until morning. Next morning he saw the same thing, the sun came out away over there. He went on a long way and he could not catch him. He went a long way, he went until he saw the ocean, and that sun came out on the other side of the ocean. So he walked around, he could not do anything. Then he found a man in the sweathouse. He asked him if he knew where he could find that sun. This man said to him, “I’ll take you up if you pay me some strings.” “Well,” Coyote said, “I have lots of that.” So the man said, “That’s all right. You get on my back and shut your eyes. Don’t open your eyes if you feel it snowing, if the wind blows, or if you hear a noise somewhere.” So Coyote hung on to that man and got to the sky. He said to him, “Get off right here.” So he got off. He looked around. It was a nice place; he saw trails. He took one trail and went all around. He saw a big village and at evening he stopped there. It was about supper-time and everyone went into the house to eat, so Coyote went into the sweathouse and sat down behind the ladder. Late in the evening the men came in to go to sleep. They called the name of everyone there and they called the sun by his name. Coyote thought he was going to catch him, so when everyone was asleep and snoring, he came out and hit that sun on the head and killed him. Everybody woke up and he ran out. They could not catch him. He went to another place that same evening. He saw seven girls’ going along. He asked them, “Where are you going?” The girls said, “We’re going dancing.” “Can I go along with you?” The girls said, “No, you could not keep up with us. We dance all night long, we never stop anywhere.” “No,” said he, “I can keep up, we dance a lot, too.” So Coyote went along and danced between those girls.

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Soon he said, “Wait,” and the girls said, “No, we can’t wait.” And he said, “Wait, I lost my pipe.” The girls said, “No, we can’t stop.” They were just dragging him along after them, he was so worn out. He dropped a leg; then another leg dropped. When that happened, those girls let go of him altogether. Next morning Coyote woke up and looked around. He went all around and could find no place to get out into this world again. One place looked as though it was open, so he spit on it. He saw his spit lying there and thought it must be just a little way through there to this world. So he jumped, for this was the only way he could get back to his village. But he died on his way here. He landed near his grandmother’s. While that old woman was walking around next day she found some bones. “Diy,” she thought, “are those my grandson’s bones?” So she picked them up and put them in the house. Next day his bones rattled and he came alive again.

HELL, BOB AND ME PLANTED ’EM Tradition Bearer: Harry Reece Source: Bowman, Earl. “Interview of Harry Reece.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: California National Origin: European American

The following tall tale incorporates the elements usually associated with narratives of this category: a claim of personal experience and expressed disdain for lies and liars, for example. The motif of rich soil giving rise to extraordinarily fast and huge plant growth is frequently encountered in tales from the “frontier regions.” The source of the soil’s fertility also attests to the anti-Native American sentiments that were an unfortunate element of the region’s repertoire.

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The West | Hell, Bob and Me Planted ’em

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e were camped by a little trout steam that cut its way through the rich mountain soil just off the low divide between Price Valley and Salmon Meadows when my Uncle Steve Robertson told me the “true” story of the “Big Trees” of California, and how they happened to be so big. All around us was a park-like forest of stately Idaho Yellow Pines, their three, four, even five-foot trunks straight and smooth and limbless for thirty feet or more, their crowns towering into the sky a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet. “Gee, Uncle Steve, there’s sure some wonderful timber in this part of Idaho, isn’t there?” I said. “Just look at those tree, why one of ’em must have lumber enough in it to almost build a house—Gosh they’re big. But beside some trees I saw in California once, these Idaho pines, big and grand as they are would only be saplin’s. ‘Sequoias,’ they call those big trees in California, and some of them must be thirty-five or forty feet in diameter. They’re supposed to be thousands of years old and they probably are because it would take a tree a hell of a long time to grow as big as those California ‘sequoias’ are. They’re ‘whoppers,’ no doubt about that....” “Yeah, I-Gawd,” my Uncle Steve Robertson said, ‘they probably are whoppers by this time, I ain’t sayin’ they ain’t. In fact they couldn’t be nothin’ else but big, considerin’ what they was fertilized with. Yeah, they sure as hell was fertilized an’ to such a extent, I-Gawd, they jest couldn’t help growin’ as big as they be an’ more’n likely they’ll be a hell of a sight bigger ’fore they quit growin’. “But when it comes to them California big trees bein’ thousands of years old, like you said, or even bein’ ‘sequoias,’ I-Gawd that’s jest some smart-aleck’s idea. “Probably some feller that didn’t know nothin’ about trees an’ timber an’ things like that wanted to show off an’ told people they was ‘sequoias’ an’ they was ‘thousands of years old,’ an’ I-Gawd like damned fools people believe it. But that’s th’ way people is, most of ’em believe any danged thing they hear without takin’ th’ trouble to git at th’ bottom of things and find out for theirselves whether its so or not. “An’ that’s th’ way it is with them big trees in Californy! They ain’t no thousands of years old an’ they ain’t no cussed ‘sequoias’—They’re jest plain damned Arkansas cedar trees, an’ they like a hell of a lot of bein’ any older probably than these Idaho yaller pines is, an’ also they was jest as much saplin’s oncet as any other doggone trees ever was. “Yeah, I-Gawd, I ought to know, ’cause—Hell, Bob White an’ me planted ’em! “Course we didn’t realize what we was startin’ when we planted th’ damned things or we never would a-done it in th’ first place. “But us Pioneers of th’ Far West in th’ early days probably made mistakes oncet in a while like ever’body else does, but one thing about it, when we did

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make any damned mistake an’ found out we’d made one, I-Gawd we didn’t keep on makin’ it jest for pure contrariness like lots of people does now-a-days. “Yeah, I-Gawd, Bob an’ me made a hell of a mistake when we planted them big Californy trees in th’ first place. But, our mistake wasn’t in jest planted ’em so much probably as in where we planted th’ damned things. “If we’d had any idea what th’ damned things was goin’ to be fertilized with, we’d never a-planted ’em to start with ... I-Gawd we sure as hell wouldn’t have. “But we planted ’em an’ after th’ damned things got started to growin’ they wasn’t no chance on earth to do nothin’ about it but jest let ’em grow—an’ IGawd you see what happened! What we thought was goin’ to be jest a nice, comfortable Arkansas cedar grove turned into a regular cussed wilderness of ‘big trees’ that nobody can do a doggone thing with only jest let ’em grow an’ grow until Gawd known how damned big they’ll be ’fore they quit growin’— “Yeah, that’s the way it is, an’ that’s th’ way it usually is, people start some damned thing an’ then I-Gawd they find out they’ve made a hell of a mistake but they can’t stop it! “Bob an’ me planted them big Californy trees th’ time we was gittin’ out of th’ Arizony country after th’ hot spell that petrified all them damned buzzards, et ceterry. “When we got up in th’ Californy country—After we’d stopped that time out in the Mojave desert where we staked down that damn floatin’ lake, I told you about oncet, well, we come to that valley where them big trees is an’ it looked like it might be a hell of a good place to start a ranch. It was smooth an’ nice lookin’ land but there wasn’t a damned thing growin’ on it—jest smooth, rich lookin’ soil. “So, Mam, (she was Bob’s wife) said: ‘Bob White, an’ you too, Steve Robertson, if I know anything about th’ looks of land, this would be a hell of a good place to stake out a ranch an’ settle down. I Know,’ Mam says, ‘they’s a heck of a lot of Piute Injuns in this section, ’cause we’ve seen ’em, but in spite of that land looks like things would grow on it an’ I’m tired of movin’ ’round. So, I’m in favor of stoppin’ right here an’ startin’ a ranch. If I’m any judge of rich land, this land is th’ richest danged land I ever seen in my life, even if it is kind of funny lookin’,’ Mam said. “Well, Bob an’ me’d sort of set our minds on gittin’ up into this Idaho country, but Bob always was considerate of Mam an’ tried to do whatever she wanted him to do, ’cause he wanted her to be as happy as she could, knowin’ like he did that it was hard enough life them women-Pioneers like Mam was, had to live anyhow without contraryin’ them any more’n was necessary.

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“So, Bob said: ‘Far’s I’m concerned Mam, I’d jest as soon stop here an’ start a ranch as not if you think you’d be contented here, Mam. ’Cause I sure as hell want you to be contented, Mam. But, I-Gawd, they ain’t no trees an’ you know damned well you was always a great hand for trees—an’ what th’ hell will we do about that? An’ also, th’ surroundin’ country’s full of them cussed Piute Injuns— we know it is ’cause we’ve seen ’em almost steady ever since we got up into this section, an’ Piute Injuns ain’t very damned nice neighbors. What’d you think about it, Steve?’ Bob said. “‘Personally, it don’t make no difference to me,’ I said, ‘As far as Piute Injuns being plentyful in concerned, I’d jest as soon have Piutes as any other cussed kind of Injuns for neighbors and regardin’ startin’ a ranch here, I’d jest as soon start it here as anyplace else, so I don’t give a damn either direction,’ I said. “‘That’s perfectly alright, Bob White, an’ you too, Steve Robertson,’ Mam said, ‘I’ve thought about all that. An’ as far as Piute Injuns is concerned, you notice that even if the general country does seem like it’s full of ’em, you notice they ain’t none of ’em hangin’ around this imedjiate neighborhood. So, I calculate they won’t bother much. An’ regardin’ they not bein’ no trees growin’, that can be fixed danged easy ’cause I got a whole sack full of Arkansas red cedar tree seed I picked offen that cedar tree in our front yard in Arkansas ’fore we started migratin’ to th’ Far West. All we got to do is plant them Arkansas cedar tree seed an’ if that soil’s as rich as it ’pears to be we’ll soon have a nice grove of cedar trees, which will be a good place for th’ chickens I’m aimin’ to raise to waller under in th’ dust. Th’ smell of th’ cedar trees will also help keep th’ mites an’ lice from worryin’ th’ chickens to death,’ Mam said. “Well, I-Gawd that’s th’ way it started. “Jest to please Mam an’ keep her contented, Bob an’ me took that sack full of Arkansas red cedar tree seed an’ planted th’ whole cussed works, figgerin’ that maybe some of ’em wouldn’t grow, but we planted ’em all so Mam would be sure to have a cedar grove for her chickens to waller under in th’ dust. “Yeah, Bob an’ me planted ever’ cussed cedar tree seed Mam had brought from Arkansas, never realizin’ I-Gawd how rich an’ fertilized that damned land was, an’ th’ whole works come up! Ever damned seed! Hell yes, we hadn’t hardly got th’ last of ’em planted when th’ one we planted first was already up an’ growln’ to beat hell! “Yes, sir, I-Gawd, you never saw nothing come up as prompt as them damned Arkansas red cedar tree seed done. It seemed like that soil jest squirted ’em right up.

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“‘Gawd-a-mighty,’ Bob said, ‘I never seen nothin’ like it in my life. This whole district must a-been a old sheep corral or somethin’ oncet for th’ soil to be as fertilized as it is!’ Bob said. “‘No damned sheep manure ever made things grow like them cedar tree seed’s growin’,’ I said. ‘I-Gawd, no. Sheep manure’s a powerful fertilizer but it ain’t powerful enough to make things grow that a-way. Whatever this lands fertilized with is a hell of a sight powefuler than any cussed sheep manure.’ I said. “Mam, she was tickled as hell. ‘I told you, Bob White, an’ you too Steve Robertson, that this was th’ richest dang land anybody ever seen, an’ now I reckon you’ll believe me. It won’t be no time now till we’ll have a nice cedar tree grove for me to watch th’ chickens waller in th’ dust under an’ to hang my washin’ on when wash days comes.’ Mam said. “Well, I-Gawd, Mam was plumb right. “Yeah, she was right as hell. Bob an’ me finished plantin’ them damned Arkansas cedar tree seeds on Friday—no, I’Gawd, it was on a Thursday, yeah, Thursday about a hour before sundown, I don’t want to stretch things none cause I sure hate a damned liar or ’xaggerater—an’ by th’ next Monday them cussed cedar trees was up an’ jest about tall enough for Mam to spread her washin’ on (Monday was always Mam’s washday). “‘Its a pleasure to have cedar trees to spread my washin’ out on,’ Mam said. ‘It makes me think of how I used to spread things out on our cedar trees back in Arkansas.’ “Well, Mam didn’t git her washin’ out till late, plumb near sundown, so they wasn’t dry enough to take in that night an’ she had to leave ’em out till th’ next day. An’ I-Gawd, that’s where Mam got a surprise: Th’ next mornin’ them damned cedar tress had growed so fast that Bob’s an’ my shirts an’ drawers an’ Mam’s ‘Mother Hubbards’ an’ aprons an’ night-gowns an’ et ceterry was up so cussed high she couldn’t reach ’em. “Bob an’ me had a hell of a time climbin’ them danged trees fast enough to ketch up with ’em an’ git ’em down for her. An’ we never did git one of Bob’s sox, which Mam had hung plumb on top of one of ’em— “Gawd, we never did git it an’ far as I know th’ damned thing’s still up there flutterin’ from a limb on top of one of then doggone trees. Yeah, it probably is. Bob cussed awful on account of th’ blisters he got on his foot that didn’t have no sock on it when he had to go around wearin’ jest one sock while Mam had his other pair in th’ wash. “Hell, I don’t reckon there ever was anything growed faster’n them cussed cedar trees that people that don’t know anything about it calls them ‘sequoias,’ like you said

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“Yes, sir, I-Gawd, some of Mam’s chickens managed to climb up in one of ’em one night to roost in it an’ th’ next mornin’ them damned chickens was up so high that when they tried to jump down out of it practically ever’ one of ’em busted a leg when they hit th’ ground—It was pitifulas hell to see them poor doggone chickens tryin’ to stand on th’ only good leg they had an’ scratch with it at th’ same time! “It was plumb unnatcheral how fast an’ how cussed big them trees growed. “‘I’d like to know what th’ hell this soil’s fertilized with,’ Bob said. ‘I-Gawd, I never seen nothin’ like it—for two cents I’d plant some watermelon seeds an’ see jest how damned big watermelons this ground would raise anyhow!’ “‘You’ll do no sech a cussed thing,’ Mam said, an’ put her foot right down on it, ‘if this ground works on watermelons like it does on them cedar trees, IGawd, an’ th’ watermelons growed in proportion, by th’ time they was ripe they’d be so cussed big that if th’ lightin’ struck one an’ busted it an’ knocked th’ water out of it it would flood th’ whole danged country! No, sir, Bob White an’ you too Steve Robertson, jest keep them watermelon seeds out of this doggone soil, we ain’t goin’ to take no chances like that,’ Mam said. “‘Probably you’re right, Mam,’ Bob said, ‘that’s jest about what would happen, but I-Gawd, I’d sure as hell like to know what this damned section of Californy’s fertilized with, anyhow,’ Bob said. “‘Well, sir, I-Gawd th’ very next day I found out what was makin’ them doggone Arkansas red cedar trees Bob an’ me had started growin’ in that Californy soil act th’ way they did. “A old Piute Injun chief I knowed come along an’ when he saw all them damned trees growin’ where they was he started howlin’ an’ wailin’ like his heart was plumb broke. Natcherally, I asked him what th’ hell was th’ matter (’cause while I ain’t never mentioned it, I can talk Piute jest like a native.) An’ besides I’d give th’ old chief a sack of smokin’ tobacco oncet an’ we was good friends, so he told me. “For millions of years th’ damned Piutes had been comin’ for miles around an’ bringin’ any doggone Piute that was dead to bury him in that special part of Californy; from what th’ old chief said it was th’ only damned spot in Californy that was easy diggin’, th’ rest of it bein’ hard ant gravelly, so for millions an’ millions of years they’d been plantin’ dead Piutes on that same doggone spot! IGawd, th’ whole damned country was under-laid with dead Piutes an’ anybody that knows anything about dead Piutes knows that a dead Piute is th’ strongest cussed fertilizer they is! “Hell, yes, dead Piutes is richer fertilizer than any damned sheep manure or any other kind of doggone manure they is. Things planted where th’ soil is

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fertilized with dead Piutes jest can’t keep from growin’ an’ I-Gawd when it oncet starts to growin’ they ain’t nothin’ nobody can do about it only jest let it keep on growin’. So that’s th’ way it was. “Natcherally, when Mam found out they wasn’t no doggone way to keep then damned Arkansas cedar trees from growin’ till they’d exhausted all th’ Piute Injun fertilizer they was planted in, or till they finally died from old age, or got so big, they covered th’ whole danged country, I-Gawd, she saw how foolish it would be to try to start a ranch there, so she said: “‘Bob White, an’ you too, Steve Robertson, we’d jest as well hitch th’ mules up an’ git out of this cussed neighborhood. I can stand ’most ever’thing but I’m drawin’ th’ line at livin’ where th’ whole country’s saturated with dead Piute Injuns. But they sure as heck are strong fertilizer, ain’t they?’ Mam said. “Well, Bob an’ me hitched up th’ mules an’ we headed an up to this Idaho country where th’ soil’s good an’ rich but not too damned rich an’ things grow natcheral an’ normal an’ like Natchure aimed for ’em to grow in th’ first place. “But, I-Gawd that’s th’ way them ‘big trees’ (sequoias, some damned fools call ’em) happened to be there in th’ first place an’ how they happen to be so cussed big—They can’t help growin’ an’ can’t help bein’ big, fertilized like they be with dead Piute Injuns. An’ I-Gawd if anybody don’t believe it all they got to do is dig one of ’em up an’ see for theirselves if th’ cussed thing ain’t bein’ fertilized with dead Piute Injuns. “Hell, I ought to know, Bob an’ me planted ’em!”

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PELE’S LONG SLEEP Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Westerveldt, W. D. “Pele’s Long Sleep.” Pages 72–86 in Hawaiian Legends of Volcanoes. Boston: G. H. Ellis Press, 1916. Date: 1916 Original Source: Hawaii National Origin: Hawaiian

In Hawaiian myth, the goddess Pele is associated with the volcano and with unusual geological features of the environment produced by volcanic activity. These formations are attributed to divine conflicts that pit Pele against other mythic figures. In contemporary belief tales, legends, and personal experience narratives, Pele is credited with taking vengeance on tourists who take away bits of lava rock as souvenirs. Pele’s younger sister, Hiiaka, goddess of the dance, remained a favorite of the volcano goddess in spite of Pele’s jealousy.

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ele and her family dwelt in the beauty of Puna. On a certain day there was a fine, clear atmosphere and Pele saw the splendid surf with its white crests and proposed to her sisters to go down for bathing and surf-riding. Pele, as the high chiefess of the family, first entered the water and swam far out, then returned, standing on the brink of the curling wave, for the very crest was her surf-board which she rode with great skill. Sometimes her brother, Kamohoalii, the great shark-god, in the form of a shark would be her surf-board. Again and again she went out to the deep pit of the waves, her sisters causing the country inland to resound with their acclamation, for she rode as one born of the sea.


At last she came to the beach and, telling the sisters that the tabu on swimming was lifted and they could enter upon their sport, went inland with her youngest sister, Hiiaka, to watch while she slept. They went to a house thatched with ti leaves, a house built for the goddess. There Pele lay down, saying to her sister Hiiaka: “I will sleep, giving up to the shadows of the falling evening—dropping into the very depths of slumber. Very hard will be this sleep. I am jealous of it. Therefore it is tabu. This is my command to you, O my little one. Wait you without arousing me nine days and eight nights. Then call me and chant the ‘Hulihia’” [a chant supposed to bring life back and revive the body]. Then Pele added: “Perhaps this sleep will be my journey to meet a man— our husband. If I shall meet my lover in my dreams the sleep will be of great value. I will sleep.” Hiiaka moved softly about the head of her sister Pele, swaying a kahili fringed and beautiful. The perfume of the hala, the fragrance of Keaau, clung to the walls of the house. From that time Puna has been famous as the land fragrant with perfume of the leaves and flowers of the hala tree. Whenever Pele slept she lost the appearance that she usually assumed, of a beautiful and glorious young woman, surpassing all the other women in the islands. Sleep brought out the aged hag that she really was. Always when any worshipper saw the group of sisters and Pele asleep in their midst they saw a weary old woman lying in the fire-bed in the great crater. While Pele was sleeping her spirit heard the sound of a hula-drum skillfully played, accompanied by a chant sung by a wonderful voice. The spirit of Pele arose from her body and listened to that voice. She thought it was the hula of Laka, who was the goddess of the dance. Then she clearly heard male voices, strong and tender, and a great joy awoke within her, and she listened toward the east, but the hula was not there. Then westward, and there were the rich tones of the beaten drum and the chant. Pele’s spirit cried: “The voice of love comes on the wind. I will go and meet it.” Pele then forsook Keaau and went to Hilo, but the drum was not there. She passed from place to place, led by the call of the drum and dance, following it along the palis (precipices) and over the deep ravines, through forest shadows and along rocky beaches until she came to the upper end of Hawai’i. There she heard the call coming across the sea from the island Maui. Her spirit crossed the channel and listened again. The voices of the dance were louder and clearer and more beautiful.

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The West | Pele’s Long Sleep

She passed on from island to island until she came to Kauai, and there the drum-beat and the song of the dance (lid not die away or change, so she knew she had found the lover desired in her dream. Pele’s spirit now put on the body of strong healthful youth. Nor was there any blemish in her beauty and symmetry from head to foot. She was anointed with all the fragrant oils of Puna. Her dress was the splendid garland of the red lehua flower and maile leaf and the fern from the dwelling-places of the gods. The tender vines of the deep woods veiled this queen of the crater. In glorious young womanhood she went to the halau. The dark body of a great mist enveloped her. The drum and the voice had led her to Haena, Kauai, to the house of Lohiau, the high-born chief of that island. The house for dancing was long and was beautifully draped with mats of all kinds. It was full of chiefs engaged in the sports of that time. The common people were gathered outside the house of the chief. The multitude saw a glorious young woman step out of the mist. Then they raised a great shout, praising her with strong voices. It seemed as if the queen of sunrise had summoned the beauty of the morning to rest upon her. The countenance of Pele was like the clearest and gentlest moonlight. The people made a vacant space for the passage of this wonderful stranger, casting themselves on the ground before her. An ancient chant says: “O the passing of that beautiful woman. Silent are the voices on the plain, No medley of the birds is in the forest; There is quiet, resting in peace.” Pele entered the long house, passed by the place of the drums, and seated herself on a resting-place of soft royal mats. The chiefs were astonished, and after a long time asked her if she came from the far-off sunrise of foreign lands. Pele replied, smiling, “Ka! I belong to Kauai.” Lohiau, the high chief, said: “O stranger, child of a journey, you speak in riddles. I know Kauai from harbor to clustered hills, and my eyes have never seen any woman like you.” “Ka!” said Pele, “the place where you did not stop, there I was.” But Lohiau refused her thought, and asked her to tell truly whence she had come. At last Pele acknowledged that she had come from Puna, Hawai’i,—“the place beloved by the sunrise at Haehae.”

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The chiefs urged her to join them in a feast, but she refused, saying she had recently eaten and was satisfied, but she “was hungry for the hula—the voices and the drum.” Then Lohiau told her that her welcome was all that he could give. “For me is the island, inland, seaward, and all around Kauai. This is your place. The home you have in Puna you will think you see again in Kauai. The name of my house for you is Ha-laau-ola [Tree of Life].” Pele replied: “The name of your house is beautiful. My home in Puna is Mauli-ola [Long Life]. I will accept this house of yours.” Lohiau watched her while he partook of the feast with his chiefs, and she was resting on the couch of mats. He was thinking of her marvelous, restful beauty, as given in the ancient chant known as “Lei Mauna Loa”: “Lei of Mauna Loa, beautiful to look upon. The mountain honored by the winds. Known by the peaceful motion. Calm becomes the whirlwind. Beautiful is the sun upon the plain. Dark-leaved the trees in the midst of the hot sun Heat rising from the face of the moist lava. The sunrise mist lying on the grass, Free from the care of the strong wind. The bird returns to rest at Palaau. He who owns the right to sleep is at Palaau. I am alive for your love— For you indeed.” Then Lohiau proposed to his chiefs that he should take this beautiful chiefess from Kauai as his queen, and his thought seemed good to all. Turning to Pele, he offered himself as her husband and was accepted. Then Lohiau arose and ordered the sports to cease while they all slept. Pele and Lohiau were married and dwelt together several days, according to the custom of the ancient time. After this time had passed Lohiau planned another great feast and a day for the hula-dance and the many sports of the people. When they came together, beautiful were the dances and sweet the voices of Lohiau and his aikane (closest friend). Three of the women of Kauai who were known as “the guardians of Haena” had come into the halau and taken their places near Lohiau. The people greeted

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their coming with great applause, for they were very beautiful and were also possessed of supernatural power. Their beauty was like that of Pele save for the paleness of their skins, which had come from their power to appear in different forms, according to their pleasure. They were female mo-o, or dragons. Their human beauty was enhanced by their garments of ferns and leaves and flowers. Pele had told Lohiau of their coming and had charged him in these words: “Remember, you have been set apart for me. Remember, and know our companionship. Therefore I place upon you my law, ‘Ke kai okia’ [Cut off by the sea] are you—separated from all for me.” Lohiau looked on these beautiful women. The chief of the women, Kilinoe, was the most interesting. She refused to eat while others partook of a feast before the dancing should begin, and sat watching carefully with large, bright, shining eyes the face of Lohiau, using magic power to make him pay attention to her charms. Pele did not wish these women to know her, so placed a shadow between them and her so that they looked upon her as through a mist. There the chiefs took their hula-drums and sat down preparing to play for the dancers. Then up rose Kilinoe, and, taking ferns and flowers from her skirts, made fragrant wreaths wherewith to crown Lohiau and his fellow hula-drummers, expecting the chief to see her beauty and take her for his companion. But the law of Pele was upon him and he called to her for a chant before the dance should commence. Pele threw aside her shadow garments and came out clothed in her beautiful pa-u (skirt) and fragrant with the perfumes of Puna. She said, “It is not for me to give an olioli mele [a chant] for your native dance, but I will call the guardian winds of your islands Niihau and Kauai, O Lohiau! And they will answer my call.” Then she called for the gods who came to Hawai’i; the gods of her old home now known through all Polynesia; the great gods Lono and his brothers, coming in the winds of heaven. Then she called on all the noted winds of the island Niihau, stating the directions from which they came, the points of land struck when they touched the island and their gentleness or wrath, their weakness or power, and their helpfulness or destructiveness. For a long time she chanted, calling wind after wind, and while she sang, soft breezes blew around and through the house; then came stronger winds whistling through the trees outside. As the voice of the singer rose or fell so also danced the winds in strict harmony. While she sang, the people outside the house cried out, “The sea grows rough and white, the waves are tossed by strong winds and clouds are flying, the winds are gathering the clouds and twisting the heavens.”

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But one of the dragon-women sitting near Lohiau said: “The noise you think is from the sea or rustling through the leaves of the trees is only the sound of the people talking outside the great building. Their murmur is like the voice of the wind.” Then Pele chanted for the return of the winds to Niihau and its small islands and the day was of the singer softened at peace as the voice toward the end of the chant. Hushed were the people and wondering were the eyes turned upon Pele by the chiefs who were seated in the great halau. Pele leaned on her couch of soft mats and rested. Very angry was Kilinoe, the dragon-woman. Full of fire were her eyes and dark was her face with hot blood, but she only said: “You have seen Niihau. Perhaps also you know the winds of Kauai.” By giving this challenge she thought she would overthrow the power of Pele over Lohiau. She did not know who Pele was, but supposed she was one of the women of high rank native to Kauai. Pele again chanted, calling for the guardian winds of the island Kauai: “O Kauai, great island of the Lehua, Island moving in the ocean, Island moving from Tahiti, Let the winds rattle the branches to Hawai’i. Let them point to the eye of the son. There is the wind of Kane at sunset— The hard night-wind for Kauai.” Then she called for kite-flying winds when the birds sport in the heavens and the surf lies quiet on incoming waves, and then she sang of the winds kolonahe, softly blowing; and the winds hunahuna, breaking into fragments; and the winds which carry the mist, the sprinkling shower, the falling rain and the severe storm; the winds which touch the mountain-tops, and those which creep along the edge of the precipices, holding on by their fingers, and those which dash over the plains and along the sea-beach, blowing the waves into mist. Then she chanted how the caves in the seacoast were opened and the guardians of the winds lifted their calabashes and let loose evil winds, angry and destructive, to sweep over the homes of the people and tear in pieces their fruittrees and houses. Then Pele’s voice rang out while she made known the character of the beautiful dragon-women, the guardians of the caves of Haena, calling them the mocking winds of Haena. The people did not understand, but the dragon-women knew that Pele only needed to point them out as they sat near Lohiau, to have all the chiefs cry out

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against them in scorn. Out of the house they rushed, fleeing back to their home in the caves. When Pele ceased chanting, winds without number began to come near, scraping over the land. The surf on the reef was roaring. The white sand of the beach rose up. Thunder followed the rolling, rumbling tongue of branching lightning. Mist crept over the precipices. Running water poured down the face of the cliffs. Red water and white water fled seaward, and the stormy heart of the ocean rose in tumbled heaps. The people rushed to their homes. The chiefs hastened from the house of pleasure. The feast and the day of dancing were broken up. Lohiau said to Pele: “How great indeed have been your true words telling the evil of this day. Here have come the winds and destructive storms of Haena. Truly this land has had evil today.” When Pele had laid herself down on the soft mats of Puna for her long sleep she had charged her little sister, who had been carried in her bosom, to wake her if she had not returned to life before nine days were past. The days were almost through to the last moment when Lohiau lamented the evil that his land had felt. Then as the winds died away and the last strong gust journeyed out toward the sea Pele heard Hiiaka’s voice calling from the island Hawai’i in the magic chant Pele had told her to use to call her back to life. Hearing this arousing call, she bowed her head and wept. After a time she said to Lohiau: “It is not for me to remain here in pleasure with you. I must return because of the call of my sister. Your care is to obey my law, which is upon you. Calm will take the place of the storm, the winds will be quiet, the sea will ebb peacefully, cascades will murmur on the mountain sides, and sweet flowers will be among the leaves. I will send my little sister, then come quickly to my home in Puna.” Hiiaka knew that the time had come when she must arouse her goddess sister from that deep sleep. So she commenced the incantation, which Pele told her to use. It would call the wandering spirit back to its home, no matter where it might have gone. This incantation was known as “Hulihia ke au” (“The current is turning”). This was a call carried by the spirit-power of the one who uttered it into far-away places to the very person for whom it was intended. The closing lines of the incantation were a personal appeal to Pele to awake. “E Pele e! The milky way (the i’a) turns. E Pele e! The night changes. E Pele e! The red glow is on the island. E Pele e! The red dawn breaks. E Pele e! Shadows are cast by the sunlight.

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E Pele e! The sound of roaring is in your crater. E Pele e! The uhi-uha is in your crater [this means the sound of wash of lava is in the crater]. F Pele e! Awake, arise, return.” The spirit of Pele heard the wind, Naue, passing down to the sea and soon came the call of Hiiaka over the waters. Then she bowed down her head and wept. When Lohiau saw the tears pouring down the face of his wife he asked why in this time of gladness she wept. For a long time she did not reply. Then she spoke of the winds with which she had danced that night-the guardians of Niihau and Kauai, a people listening to her call, under the ruler of all the winds, the great Lono, dwelling on the waters. Then she said: “You are my husband and I am your wife, but the call has come and I cannot remain with you. I will return to my land—to the fragrant blossoms of the hala, but I will send one of my younger sisters to come after you. Before I forsook my land for Kauai I put a charge upon my young sister to call me before nine days and nights had passed. Now I hear this call and I must not abide by the great longing of your thought.” Then the queen of fire ceased speaking and began to be lost to Lohiau, who was marvelling greatly at the fading away of his loved one, As Pele disappeared peace came to him and all the land of Kauai was filled with calm and rest. Pele’s spirit passed at once to the body lying in the house thatched with ti leaves in Puna. Soon she arose and told Hiiaka to call the sisters from the sea and they would go inland. Then they gathered around the house in which Pele had slept. Pele told them they must dance the hula of the lifted tabu, and asked them, one after the other, to dance, but they all refused until she came to Hiiaka, who had guarded her during her long sleep. Hiiaka desired to go down to the beach and bathe with a friend, Hopoe, while the others went inland. Pele said, “You cannot go unless you first dance for the lifted tabu.” Hiiaka arose and danced gloriously before the hula god and chanted while she danced— “Puna dances in the wind. The forest of Keaau is shaken. Haena moves quietly. There is motion on the beach of Nanahuki.

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The West | Meeting with Wovoka

The hula-lea danced by the wife, Dancing with the sea of Nanahuki. Perhaps this is a dance of love, For the friend loved in the sleep.” Pele rejoiced over the skill of her younger sister and was surprised by the chanted reference to the experiences at Haena. She granted permission to Hiiaka to remain by the sea with her friend Hopoe, bathing and surf-riding until a messenger should be sent to call her home to Kilauea. Then Pele and the other sisters went inland.

MEETING WITH WOVOKA Tradition Bearer: Porcupine, Big Beaver, and Ridge Walker, as recounted to Abe Somers. Source: Gatschet, Albert S. “Report of a Visit to Jack Wilson, the Payute Messiah.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 108–111. Date: 1891 Original Source: Cheyenne National Origin: Native American

In 1889, the Paiute prophet Wovoka proclaimed a new revelation and initiated what came to be called the Ghost Dance Religion. According to Wovoka, while he was alone chopping wood he passed out and had a vision in which he was transported to Heaven. This heaven was a distinctively Indian one. There he saw all the Indian people who had ever died living in the traditional way. Before his spirit returned to his body and he returned to consciousness, he was given the doctrine and the rites of the Ghost Dance. As indicated in the following personal experience narrative, the religion he taught was pacifistic. During the two years of the Ghost Dance’s heyday, whites became increasingly concerned about the movement, interpreting it in all cases as warlike. Finally, in 1891 on the Teton Dakota Reservation at Pine Ridge, South Dakota, troops from the Seventh Cavalry that had been sent to suppress the “uprising” opened fire on a group composed primarily of women,

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children, and old people—an event that has been labeled the Wounded Knee Massacre.

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rom information just received from Mr. James Mooney, who has seen the Payute prophet in person, I present the following biographic facts, with reference to this personage. As near as can be ascertained, Jack Wilson is now (1893) thirty-five years old. He was called after the family name of David Wilson, the white farmer who brought him up in Mason Valley, Nevada, after the demise of his father. In the same valley, about thirty miles from the capital, Carson, he resides now. His stature nearly reaches six feet, which is more than the native Payute generally attains, and this magnitude of bodily proportions may have contributed to his success. He is a full-blood Indian and was married in his twentieth year; no other language but Payute is spoken by him, and he is but imperfectly acquainted with English. There is no doubt that his religious teachings rest on a well-ordained religious system, and, in spite of the numerous false reports that are spread about him, he does not claim to be either God or Jesus Christ, the Messiah, or any divine, superhuman being whatever. “I am the annunciator of God’s message from the spiritual world and a prophet for the Indian people,” is the way he defines the scope of his work among men. The first revelation he received of God himself took place about four years ago, after he had fallen asleep. God admonished him to work zealously among his fellow-men in promoting good morals and delegated special powers to him to this effect. Thus he considers himself a messenger of God appointed in a dream, and has, on that account, compared himself to St. John the Baptist. When he had that dream he thought himself to be in heaven. * * * n the fall of the year 1890, they say, they first heard of this new Christ, at the Arapaho and Shoshone Agency, Wyoming Territory. When they and other Cheyennes of Tongue River went on a visit to said tribes in the autumn of 1890, an Arapaho Indian named Sage, who had been to the southwestern country in 1888, told them that a new Christ had arisen for the Indians; he said where he could be found and explained his doctrine to them. Farther on, Porcupine said that he and the other Cheyennes were much interested and determined to see the Messiah, but as all could not go so far, nine of these Cheyennes were sent back to Tongue River Agency to tell the people what they had heard. Porcupine and several of the Cheyennes went on. When

I

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they arrived in Utah, they received large accessions to their caravan, Indians joining them en route at the different points, and so at last their meeting took place at Walker Lake, to hear the new Christ speak. There were many people present, including women and children. Then Mr. Porcupine says to the Messiah: “I and my people have been living in ignorance until I went and found out the truth.” He sat with his head bowed all the time, and after a while he arose and said he was very glad to see his children, “I have sent for you and I am glad that you have come, and I am going to talk to you after a while about our relations who are dead and gone. My children, I want you to listen to all I have to say, and I will teach you how to dance a dance, and I want you to dance it; get ready for the dance, and then when the dance is over I will talk to you.” He was dressed in a white coat with stripes; the rest of his dress was that of a white man’s, except that he had on a pair of moccasins. And then we commenced to dance, everybody joining in with the Christ, singing while we danced. We danced till late in the night, and he said we had danced enough. And in the morning after breakfast we went in the circle and spread grass over it on the ground, the Christ standing in the midst of us, and told us that he was going away on that day and that he would be back next morning and talk to us. In the night, when I first saw him I thought he was an Indian; but the next day, when I could see him better, he looked different; he was not so dark as an Indian, nor so light as a white man. He had no beard or whiskers, but very heavy eyebrows; he was a good-looking man, and we were crowded up very close. We had been told that nobody was to talk; and even if a thing was whispered, the Christ would know it. I heard that Christ had been crucified, and I looked to see, and I saw a scar on his wrist and one on his face and he seemed to be the man. I could not see his feet. He would talk to us all day. On that evening we were all assembled again to part with him. When we assembled he began to sing, and he commenced to tremble all over violently for a while, and then sat down; and we danced all on that night, the Christ lying beside us apparently dead. The next morning we went to our breakfast; the Christ was with us again. After breakfast four heralds went around and called out that the Christ was back with us, and wanted talk with us; and so the circle was made again; they assembled and Christ came amongst them and sat down. He said they were to listen to him while he talked to us. “I am the man who made everything you see around you. I am not lying to my children. I made this earth and everything on it. I have been to Heaven and seen your dead friends, and seen my father and mother. In the beginning, after God made the earth, they sent me back to teach the people; and when I came back on the earth, the people were afraid of me and treated me badly. This is

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what they have done to me (showing his scars). I did not try to defend myself, and I found my children were bad, so I went back to Heaven and left them; and in so many years I would come back and see to my children, and at the end of this time I was sent back to teach them. My father told me that the earth is getting old and worn out, and the people getting bad, and that I was to renew everything as it used to be, and make it better; and he said all our dead were to be resurrected and they were all to come back to the earth, and that the earth was too small for them and us; he would do away with heaven and make the earth large enough to contain us all, and that we must tell all the people we meet about these things. He spoke to us about fighting, and said that was bad and we must keep from it, that the earth was to be all good hereafter, that we must be friends with one another. He said that in the fall of the year the youth of all the good people would be renewed, so that nobody would be more than forty years old. The youth of everyone would be renewed in the spring. He said if we were all good he would send people among us who could heal all our wounds and sickness by mere touch, and that we could live forever. This is what I have witnessed, and many other things wonderful, which I cannot describe. Please don’t follow the ideas of that man. He is not the Christ. No man in the world can see God at any time. Even the angels of God cannot.

THE MAN WHO BROUGHT WATER TO ATAMI Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Sparkman, P. S. “Notes of California Folklore: A Luiseño Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 35–36. Date: ca. 1907 Original Source: Luiseño National Origin: Native American

The holy man Nahyam in the following legend gives his life to provide water to his people. According to Luiseño tradition a Pavawut is a spirit who inhabits springs. “Pavawut,” translated below as witchcraft, is also known as “ayelkwi,” more properly translated as “knowledge” or

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The West | The Man Who Brought Water to Atami

“power.” Snake is often entrusted with guarding the secrets of the supernatural powers. Revealing secrets, improperly performing ritual, or telling myths out of season elicit Snake’s retaliation.

M

any years past, people named Nahyam were living in Atami. One of them had a son, who grew up and became wise and excelled everyone in witchcraft. He understood the language of the wild animals, and when he became a grown-up man, married, and lived together with his wife. One day he went to a mountain known as Kolo, and on arriving there saw much yucca. And then he dug up yucca-heads, and roasted them, and worked hard all day, and got thirsty and hungry. And then he remembered a pond of water known as Pavawut’s house, and went there to that water. He was very tired and thirsty, and though he knew well that no one used to go to that water, all being afraid of it, as it was said to be where the Pavawut lived. Yet, knowing that, he went there. He had great faith in his witchcraft, and on coming to the water spoke before drinking. He asked permission and knelt to drink, and his hat fell from his head into the water. Seeing it in the water, he entered to recover it, and was carried away to a dry place. And there he saw a black-rattlesnake, and went to him, and the rattlesnake asked him what he was going around there for. He said, “I come looking for my hat.” Then the rattlesnake said to him, “Pass on ahead. Your aunt is there.” The man passed to where his aunt (po-pamai) was, and went to her. She was making a basket. He said, “How are you, my aunt?” And she said, “How are you, my nephew (no-alamai)? What are you going around here for?” And the man said, “Yes, my aunt, I am looking for my elut.” And then his aunt said to him, “Pass on ahead, there is your cousin (o-yuksum), the Pavawut.” And he went to the Pavawut, and said to it, “How are you, my cousin?” And the Pavawut did not answer him, and he sat on the ground, and he was about to faint with thirst and hunger. And the Pavawut knew that he was hungry and thirsty. And the Pavawut stood up, and took a small shell, and dipped up water and gave it to the man. And he took it discontentedly, seeing the small shell; but though he drank much, he did not finish it, and he stayed a little. And then the Pavawut gave

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him honey again in that same small shell. And the man ate much and did not finish it. And he filled himself, and remained some days with the Pavawut. And the Pavawut knew the man was wishing to go away, and did not wish to tell him. And in the morning it said to him, “My cousin, you are going away now, and I will paint your body.” And then it painted him. And the Pavawut said to him, “Now you are going away this day, and I will tell you positively. You will tell nobody what you have seen here, or that you have been in my house. If they should ask you if you have been in my house, or if you have seen me, you will say you have not seen me. I tell you that no one has ever been in my house at any time, except you. Should you tell anyone that you have been in my house, you will be bitten by a black-rattlesnake, and you will die at that place. And you will be put in the valley, and at that place will burst out water.” And the man heard all that the Pavawut said, and it again repeated to him that he should tell nobody; should he tell, a black-rattlesnake would bite him. And his relations were looking for him in his house, and they did not know where he had gone. And the Pavawut said to him, “Already it is best that you may go, my cousin.” And the man was looking up to see where he might go out, and he saw a small light. And the Pavawut said to him, “Go here,” and took him and showed him where to go, and the Pavawut went back. And then the man went away. He thought that he would go out at the place where he had entered, but he went out at another place far away. And at that place where he went out he remained a little, and then went to his house at Atami. And at that place where he jumped out, water burst out, and its name was Person where he jumped out. And the man arrived suddenly at his house at Atami, and his wife did not know what to do when she saw him, also all his relations. And that night he slept with his wife, and all the night she continually asked him to tell her where he had been; and the man did not wish to tell her, as he knew well that he would die if he did so. And it got light on them. And the next day his wife continually questioned him, and he did not wish to tell her; but at last he thought that he would tell, and then he notified his wife and got together all his relations and notified them where he had been. And then his relations cried: they all knew that a black-rattlesnake would bite him. And after he had finished his speech, the man went outside, and a black-rattlesnake bit him.

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The West | Coyote and His Sister Robin

And they put him in the valley and cremated him, and at that place burst out water. Now it still runs at that place the same.

COYOTE AND HIS SISTER ROBIN Tradition Bearer: Molly Kinsman Pimona Source: Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 343–44. Date: 1918 Original Source: Western Mono (California) National Origin: Native American

As noted in the introductory notes to “Prairie Falcon’s Contest with Meadowlark” (p. 335), Prairie Falcon is an important figure in Western Mono tradition. He served as an agent of justice in the former narrative. In this myth, he upholds the moral order by punishing murder and incest. Here he is matched against his moral opposite, the egocentric trickster Coyote.

B

luebird had a son, Coyote, and a daughter, Robin. Robin was the elder. Coyote told his sister to paint her breast red and that is why robins today have red breasts. Bluebird and her children dwelt close to a hot spring, which formed a large deep pool. Salamander was a suitor for Robin’s hand and was favored by Robin’s mother, Bluebird, but not by Robin herself. Coyote likewise objected to the match, saying that he did not want Salamander for a brother-in-law. Coyote wanted his sister to marry Swallow, but to this Bluebird had objections. To settle the difficulty Coyote suggested that they pull sticks (“draw straws”) to determine who should marry Robin. Bluebird’s wishes were gratified, for the lot made Salamander the bridegroom. Finding his wishes set at naught, Coyote fell to planning a means of killing Salamander. Finally he hit upon a plan. He instructed his sister, Robin, to go to

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gather clover near the hot spring. “Tell Salamander,” he said, “that we are going to have a swim in the pool.” Poor Salamander suspected nothing and, when his wife invited him to swim with her, he acquiesced. She said to him, “You jump in first. I shall follow.” He promptly jumped into the boiling water and was scalded to death. After a while Coyote joined his sister and asked, “What shall we tell our mother, when we return without Salamander?” Then he suggested, “Let us tell her that he has gone deer hunting.” When Robin returned home she said nothing about her husband, Salamander, until her mother asked her where her husband was. She answered, “He has gone deer hunting and will be gone several months.” Bluebird suspected that there was something wrong. Prairie Falcon now came to make love to Robin. Rattlesnake did likewise, which made Prairie Falcon quite jealous. He suggested to Robin that she invite Rattlesnake to a bath, just as she had done with Salamander. Bluebird, Robin’s mother, did not want either Prairie Falcon or Rattlesnake for a son-in-law. So Robin and Coyote took Rattlesnake to the hot spring and, by the same subterfuge, induced him to plunge in; he, too, was scalded to death. When Bluebird heard of this she was incensed. Even though she did not wish Rattlesnake for a son-in-law, she did not approve of her daughter’s method of getting rid of husbands and suitors. She now learned that Salamander had met with the same fate. Robin remonstrated. “Mother, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to marry my own brother?” Coyote, who was listening, jumped up at once and declared that he wished to marry his sister. They married and Bluebird became furious over the incest in her family. So wrought up was she over the affair that she committed suicide by leaping into the hot spring. Prairie Falcon returned before long and killed the incestuous pair.

WALKING SKELETON Variant A Tradition Bearer: Molly Kinsman Pimona

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The West | Walking Skeleton

Source: Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 311–26. Date: 1918 Original Source: Western Mono (California) National Origin: Native American

The three variants of the “Walking Skeleton” narratives are tied together by the character of a being who, after having eaten its own flesh and reduced itself to a skeleton, pursues fresh human victims. Like the villains of contemporary horror movies, Walking Skeleton apparently is destroyed but reconstitutesitself almost immediately. The familiar Western Mono figures of the brothers Wolf and Coyote and Prairie Falcon also put in appearances. Other motifs such as an attack on a house filled with gamblers and the abuse of children permeate the variants. In other ways, however, there are wide variations. Variant A is a horror tale with brothers Wolf and Coyote coming to the rescue at the end. Variant B combines the supernatural tale with a myth of the origin of Native American tribes by means of the marriage of Walking Skeleton’s prey to her protector, Eagle. Variant C finally spills over into apocalyptic chaos with the destruction of major characters and traditional heroes behaving less than heroically. Overall, the variations of this story demonstrate the radical differences that may exist between versions of the “same” tale.

A

boy’s father went hunting, hunting deer. The boy’s mother sent him down to the spring near their house to get water. While the boy was at the spring his mother drank his portion of manzanita cider. When the boy returned, he accused his mother of having drunk his manzanita cider, saying, “You drank all of my manzanita cider.” Then he cried and would not cease. His mother tried to quiet him, saying, “I threw the old manzanita berries away. I will make some fresh manzanita cider.” This promise did not stop his crying and he went on sobbing just the same. The boy’s continual crying attracted a ghost woman, who sobbed also as she approached. The boy’s mother warned him of the ghost’s approach; but her

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warning had no effect upon the child. She ran away and hid, leaving the child to his fate. The ghost woman came and picked him up, saying, “My son’s child, what are you crying for? Your mother has treated you meanly, my grandson. We will go away together. I am going to give you a basket to wear as a hat.” She produced a small basket lined with pitch and warmed it over the fire. Then she jammed it on to the boy’s head and said, “I am not your grandmother.” Thereupon she tore the hat from the boy’s head, ripping off his entire scalp, which adhered to the pitch. This caused the death of the boy. Then the ghost went to the place where people were playing hand games. Meanwhile, the boy’s father returned from hunting. As he approached their dwelling, he said to himself, “Where is my son? He is not coming to meet me as usual.” Upon arriving home, he inquired of his wife as to the whereabouts of the boy. She replied, “The ghost took away our boy.” The woman ghost proceeded, singing, to the place where the people were playing hand games. She steadily approached that place. A woman warned the players, “The ghost is coming.” They scoffed at the warning and said that there was no such a thing as a ghost, and that there was nothing approaching. As the ghost drew near, the woman who was aware of her approach went out and hid under a large burden basket. The ghost came to the door of the house, where the players were, and whistled at them. They looked at her and all died in consequence. Then the ghost went on her way to Lizard’s house. A baby girl who had been asleep when the ghost came, cried, and the woman who had escaped by hiding under the burden basket heard it and went to its rescue. Then the woman said, “We will go to my father’s sister’s house.” However, the woman knew very well that something was going to happen to the child. When she came to a meadow, she made a fire for her, left her, and went out to dig some wild potatoes. Walking Skeleton, a monster who had eaten all of his own flesh except a little on his shoulder blades, which he could not reach, came along and killed the baby, while the woman was digging wild potatoes. He carried a pestle with him with which he pounded the bones of victims. The woman now heard him pounding the bones of the baby girl and she wondered how she herself was going to escape him. She felt that she was in great danger. In order to decoy her within reach, the giant called to her, “Come here, your baby is crying. Come here, your baby is crying.”

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The woman played for time, saying, “I have hardly enough potatoes yet for the baby.” Then Walking Skeleton said to himself, “I will go down and catch her. What is the use of my sitting here? I might just as well go down there, catch her, and eat her.” But by the time the monster had arrived at the place where the woman had been digging potatoes, she was already far away in flight. With her digging stick, she vaulted over a mountain. Then she sought refuge under a rock, as large as a house. Walking Skeleton, in pursuit, was calling for her in every direction. In order to mislead him, she called to him, “I am back here near the fire” [where he had killed the baby]. “Oh my,” exclaimed Walking Skeleton, “I shall have a fine feast now.” But when he came to a creek, he fell to pieces. Then he called his parts together again, “My foot come to me. My arm come to me. My head come to me,” and so on. He went on to the woman’s deserted fire, but of course failed to find her there. Then Walking Skeleton grumbled over his ill fortune. “Where are you?” he called. He looked all around and finally went to the mountain where the woman was hiding, and there he found her. Still she was inaccessible, for she was under a huge rock. He dug around the rock and almost pulled it up. At nightfall, he decided to cease his exertions until morning. “I will lie down right here and watch you,” he said. Then the woman wished to herself, “I hope that monster will go to sleep, so that I may escape.” After a time he fell asleep and snored. She made the most of the opportunity and escaped. With her digging stick she vaulted over two hills. At daybreak, Walking Skeleton awoke and pulled up the great rock under which the woman had hid. The rock fell on him and broke him to pieces. Nevertheless, he regained consciousness and shook himself. Then he called to his parts, “O my parts, come to me.” When he had been reconstituted, he set out in search of the fugitive again. He passed over the two hills and found the woman in her hiding place under a bush. The monster decided to forego digging her out until morning; so he lay down again. He said to himself, “I shall not go to sleep this time. I shall remain awake.” However, slumber overcame him and he fell to snoring. With this signal that escape was possible, the woman made her way from her hiding place and vaulted over two more mountains. Again she took refuge under the roots of a bush. Once more Walking Skeleton discovered her refuge and worked hard at pulling the bush from the ground. He had almost succeeded, when the sun set,

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and he decided to desist until morning. When he ceased his efforts, he said, “This time I am not going to sleep. I am going to remain awake and watch to see that this woman does not escape.” Nevertheless, he fell asleep, and the woman once more escaped. This time she took refuge at the house of two brothers, Wolf, the older, and Coyote, the younger. She asked them to aid her, saying that Walking Skeleton was in pursuit of her. They wrapped her in buckskin and put her on top of their house. Then the two brothers set out and intercepted the monster. They killed him with their bows and arrows and then burned his remains. While Wolf and Coyote were slaying Walking Skeleton, the woman extricated herself from her buckskin wrappings and set out for the house of her father’s sister. She married Chicken Hawk (puna) and had six children by him. They all went to a ceremonial gathering. There they decided to fly away and be birds.

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Singing Jack

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he people were about to play hand games in the house. Walking Skeleton (Ninitikati), was traveling towards the house. He was climbing the mountain ridge below the house just at dawn. He was singing. The people in the house were getting ready to play hand games and were just getting kindling for their fire, for the opposing groups played on opposite sides of the fire. At this juncture Walking Skeleton appeared. “What are those people doing?” he asked as he thrust his head in the door and whistled. All of the people died, because they looked at Walking Skeleton when he whistled. The people in the house had previously sent a girl outside of the house as a lookout. She put on a rabbit skin blanket when she went outside as guard. She had failed to see the approach of Walking Skeleton. Consequently, when she returned to the house she was astonished and grief-stricken to find the occupants dead, with the exception of a female child, who had been asleep and had not looked upon Walking Skeleton or heard his whistle. The child awoke about sunrise, and the girl opened the door for the little one to go out. When the two were together outside the girl began to sob and cried, “What am I to do all alone in this world?” Finally she said to the child, “We shall have to depart,” and she proceeded to collect what food she could. She could not tear herself away from her home at once, so she went about the house tidying things; she went around and around the house, back and forth.

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“What shall we do now?” she queried as she took the little child by the hand. “You gamblers certainly look fine now,” she said, ironically addressing the dead. After removing the things she wished to take, she set fire to the house and cremated the dead. Then she started with her belongings and the child, as the sun was mounting the sky. The girl started on her wanderings, but she had not gone far before she thought of some buried pine nuts near the house. She returned for these and, after securing them, started again with the child and a large bundle. After she had gone half way up the ridge, the child became exhausted. The girl decided to stay there beside the trail. After depositing her bundle and leaving the child with it, she went out to dig some “Indian potatoes.” She gathered a basketful, made a fire and roasted them in the ashes. All this consumed considerable time, but finally the two sat down to partake of the potatoes. The girl kept looking about her apprehensively, fearing that Walking Skeleton might be about. Sure enough, he came along and sat down between the girl and the child. “Eat some potatoes with us,” the girl invited. “I surely will eat some,” responded Walking Skeleton. “They certainly taste nice,” he said, after sampling them. “Just help yourself,” said the girl, and she started away to dig more of them. She looked back when she got on the ridge and said, “What am I going to do with myself now?” She looked about her and saw a rock pile, which might serve as a refuge. She thought longingly of the people who dwelt safely far back in the mountains. Then she walked back to the edge of the ridge and had another look below at Walking Skeleton, for she thought she smelt something roasting. She saw that the little child had disappeared, and she perceived Walking Skeleton licking the child’s blood from a rock. At the sight tears poured down the girl’s cheeks. When the monster had finished, he called to the girl, “Your child is crying.” She responded, “I shall be there in a few minutes.” Walking Skeleton called to her again, but she slipped behind a clump of bushes. She said, “I will leave an echo here, so that when he calls, it will answer him. I think that I had better set out for a safer place.” She went to the edge of the ridge and peered over once more. Walking Skeleton was busy going through the bundle that she had been carrying. She stood there and watched him. “Oh dear, what am I to do now?” she sighed. Then she started on her journey. She crossed two ridges. Then she said, “This will not do. I will have to travel faster.” Thereupon she took a long pole, pressed one end of it against the ground and vaulted over a high mountain. About this time Walking Skeleton started to track her.

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Beyond the mountain over which she had vaulted, she found a sage bush growing beside a big rock. She pulled the bush up by the roots and hid herself in the hole beside the rock, then she put the bush into place. About sundown Walking Skeleton reached the girl’s hiding place. He dug around the bush a bit and then he said, “I believe that I will wait until morning. I will sit up all night, so that she cannot escape.” He burned some logs, so as to have plenty of light. He lay there and kept turning and turning. “I wish it were morning,” he said, after he had become weary of waiting. The girl heard him all night long and she was very much distressed over her precarious situation. “I do not know what I shall do. I fear this will be the end of me,” she thought to herself. Daybreak, however, found Walking Skeleton sleeping soundly. The girl heard his welcome snoring and said to herself, “He is sound asleep. I do not think that he can catch me, if I leave now.” When she came out she stood right above him, stood there and looked at him, while he was sound asleep. She departed and crossed two ridges before Walking Skeleton awoke. When he awoke he looked around for a minute or two, then he set to work to dig up the sage brush, seeking the girl for his breakfast. As he pulled the bush up by the root, he turned over and fell to pieces. His parts came together again and he exclaimed, “Why did I sleep? My fresh meat has escaped.” The monster now set out in pursuit of the fleeing girl and about sundown he overtook her again. She eluded him, however, and entered a cave. He went on by it, without realizing that his quarry was so near. Once he had passed, the girl set out for the camp of her mother’s brothers, Wolf and Coyote, who lived in the vicinity. Wolf, the older brother, had sent Coyote to the spring for a basket of water. There Coyote espied the girl. He ran back to the camp, telling Wolf, “Why, Why, elder brother, there is a very pretty girl at the spring.” “All right,” said Wolf, “I will go to see her.” He told Coyote to keep behind him, but Coyote ran ahead. When Wolf arrived, Coyote said, “I got here first. I want to marry this girl.” Wolf said, “Stop that sort of talk,” and then addressing the girl, Wolf continued, “My sister’s daughter, how did you come here?” The girl explained and then asked, “What are you two going to do to help me? Walking Skeleton is close behind me.” Wolf replied, “I fear that we can do nothing for you. However, I have a big pelt in which you might hide. I will wrap you in it.” The two brothers wrapped the girl and placed her on a platform in a tree. They had scarcely secreted her, when Walking Skeleton appeared.

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“I want you to give me that girl, for I know that she is here,” declared Walking Skeleton. “We know nothing about her,” protested Wolf and Coyote. “I tracked her to your camp,” the monster continued. “We like fresh meat ourselves,” retorted the brothers. Walking Skeleton kept walking about, getting closer and closer to the girl’s hiding place. “I believe that I will stay here all night,” he said, so he had a meal with the two brothers. They brought out two pelts for him to sleep upon. Wolf said aside to Coyote, “Younger brother, we will not sleep tonight. I do not like the looks of this man.” Coyote made no response, but just rolled his eyes. After Walking Skeleton had gone to sleep, the two brothers roasted trout for the girl. They wrapped them in tule and took them to her. “You had better go along now, while he is sound asleep. We cannot do anything against him. When you eat this fish, drink water with it.” The girl took their advice and departed. When she had climbed to the top of the neighboring ridge, she paused to look down in the canyon below. When Walking Skeleton awoke, he said to Wolf and Coyote, “You had better give me that girl. There is no use for you to try to conceal her from me.” “What are you going to do with her, if we give her to you?” the brothers asked. “Oh, I shall take her home and she will wait on me and get water for me,” replied the monster. Upon discovering that his quarry had again escaped him, Walking Skeleton once more took to tracking her. Meanwhile, the girl had pushed back into the mountains and reached the camp of an aunt, who was named “Joined-to-Willow,” because she was continually scraping willow bark for basket making. “Aunt, what can you do for me? Walking Skeleton is after me. He is coming right now. Where are you going to hide me?” anxiously inquired the girl. Her aunt’s response was not reassuring. “I fear that I can do nothing for you. Nevertheless, I will do the best I can. I will put you somewhere for the night.” So saying, she placed her niece in a burden basket and covered her with tule roots. She put the burden basket with its human load back among her other large baskets, so that it would not be conspicuous. The girl had not been long ensconced in her hiding place when her pursuer arrived. The tracks led him unmistakably to the old woman’s camp and he said to himself, “It is useless for me to track further, for I know that the girl is right here. I am going to capture her this time.” He remained all night at the old woman’s camp, but slept soundly. Towards daybreak the old woman went to the girl and said, “You had better leave, for he is sound asleep now.” The girl took her aunt’s advice and departed.

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At daybreak Walking Skeleton was again on her trail, exclaiming to himself, as he discovered her track, “Ah! Here is her track.” However, the girl reached Skunk’s house in advance of her pursuer. “What are you folks going to do for me?” was her first question. Skunk possessed a quantity of pitch. He heated it so that it became exceedingly adhesive. Then he put it in holes dug in the trail over which Walking Skeleton would travel. Walking Skeleton came hastening along the road, stepped into the pitfalls, and perished miserably, disappearing beneath the surface of the pitch. The girl walked about Skunk’s place for a while. She was very grateful for her deliverance. She said to Skunk, “What a wonderful thing you did in catching Walking Skeleton.” After a time she decided to travel to Eagle’s home. With her pursuer dead, she took a renewed interest in life and fell to admiring the beautiful things in Eagle’s country. “What beautiful flowers there are in this country,” she thought to herself, “and how pretty the stars look at night. This is real life now.” Finally she reached Eagle’s house. As she stood on the top of the great cliff, she surveyed the whole country. “Well, this country looks like an ocean. This is the best part of the world that I have ever been in. I am smiling all over with joy.” Eagle brought in a deer. He greeted his visitor. She returned the greeting. Then Eagle went in and made a fire. He invited the girl into his house as it was cold outside. “There is room for you on one side there,” he said. “Keep yourself warm.” After seeing her comfortably settled he set to work to skin the deer he had brought. After he had finished he came in and put the pot on the fire to make stew. When it was done he said to the girl, “Come now, we will have our lunch. You may have the pot of stew.” He gave her the pot, only taking out a small piece of meat for himself. “All right. This is quite a treat for me,” said the girl. Then Eagle directed her, “You must sleep in the same corner you are sitting in. Sleep right there. Tomorrow night you may move your bed a little closer to my bed.” “All right,” said the girl. “I will share this house with you.” Then Eagle said, “We will cohabit in ten days, but not before.” Nevertheless, in two days the girl bore two children, and in a few days a big band of children had been born. “Now we are getting too many. We had better pair them off,” Eagle said. “My wife, we will pair them off and name them. They will be different tribes of people.” He proceeded to pair them off. “This pair will be Usomu (Miwok),” he said. “This pair we will call Chukchansi. This pair we will call Mono.” Then he sent all the pairs out. Thus he paired the tribes and sent them out. “Now you all

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establish homes and settle down. This will make the world. You people increase, for this world looks too bare. Fill it.” All went to their places. They all went away happy. Eagle looked over the cliff himself to see them start. “How beautiful it is to see people walking,” he said. “The world certainly looks nice.” Then addressing the girl, he said, “Now we are going to kill deer, as I did when we first met. We are only two now, paired off.”

Variant C Tradition Bearer: Molly Kinsman Pimona.

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he people were playing hand games in the house. They played without cessation. A woman heard Walking Skeleton approaching when she was still miles away. Walking Skeleton had flesh only on the shoulder blades; a condition arrived at through extreme hunger, which had caused her to eat herself. She carried a pitch-lined conical burden basket for the transportation of victims. Into this she threw people, who stuck in the pitch. When she reached the cave, which served as her abode, she stooped and precipitated her victims from the basket to the floor. Because of the approach of this monster, the woman warned the people to stop playing; but they were reluctant to cease and said, “No! Let her come.” When Walking Skeleton came closer the woman again warned her companions, saying, “Stop! She is drawing near.” It was of no avail; the people retorted as before. Then the woman decided to go out of the house and hide herself under a burden basket. Hardly had she done so, when Walking Skeleton arrived and opened the bark door of the house. The monster whistled, causing the people to turn to look at her. They were instantly stricken dead. Walking Skeleton then departed, and went to the house of Lizard who lived close by. After Walking Skeleton’s departure the woman who was hidden under the burden basket heard a baby crying within the house. She entered and picked up the baby to quiet it. The baby had escaped because it was asleep when Walking Skeleton came. The woman now went with the baby to the house of her father’s sister. She knew, however, that Walking Skeleton would capture the baby and eat it. She left it in a little meadow, while she went to dig some wild sweet potatoes for it. Walking Skeleton carried a slippery pestle, with which to pulverize human bones. It was so slippery that none but she could pick it up. As the woman dug the wild sweet potatoes, she heard the blows of Walking Skeleton’s pestle and

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she knew that the baby had been captured and killed. Then she was in great fear, for she knew not how to escape the monster. She dug a hole and attempted to bury herself, but was unsuccessful, as part of one leg remained exposed. Then she tried to hide herself under some bark, but it fell to pieces exposing her. She could not hide and she was so terrified that she hardly knew what to do. Walking Skeleton now tried to entice her within reach by calling to her, “Your baby is crying. Your baby is crying.” The woman, however, played for time and replied, “I have not dug enough wild sweet potatoes yet, with which to feed the baby.” In desperation the woman pushed over the dead tree, under the bark of which she had tried to hide. She found Bat in the tree. He was rolled into a ball, so that his legs and wings were hard to see. She knew that Bat would help her if she could only awaken him. She said, “Quick! Walking Skeleton is coming after me now.” Bat still slumbered, so she started to beat him into the ground with a feathered arrow. After a bit Bat awoke and asked, “What are you doing to me? Are you awakening me? I was quite sound asleep.” The woman implored, “I want to go somewhere, for Walking Skeleton is trying to catch me. I want to go to my mother’s brother’s house.” Her mother’s brother was Skunk. The obliging Bat said, “Get on my back. I will carry you.” Upon their arrival Skunk agreed to give his niece refuge. “All right. I will keep you,” he said. Skunk spread pitch on the ground, hoping to ensnare Walking Skeleton. Skunk now said to his niece, “Paint your face with red clay and with white clay.” She mixed the paint and applied it as her uncle had requested. Then Skunk ordered her to sit down in the middle of the area of pitch. She protested, “Why do you wish me to do that, uncle?” He replied, “Because a nice-looking man has been stealing my watermelons.” “I do not want to sit there, uncle,” the woman remonstrated, “he might eat me.” She knew very well that her uncle was putting her up to some mischief. In spite of her protests Skunk put her in the pitch that he had placed in the middle of his watermelon patch. “When two handsome men come by, greet them,” he commanded. After nightfall Coyote and Puma came to the watermelon patch. They were brothers; Coyote was the younger, Puma the older. They saw the woman and departed without stealing watermelons. Next morning Skunk visited his niece at her position in the middle of the watermelon patch, and inquired if anyone had come during the night. She answered, “I saw two handsome men.” “Did they steal any watermelons?” queried Skunk.

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“No,” the woman replied, “but they looked as though they might eat me, uncle. I want to go to the house.” Skunk was obdurate and refused, saying, “They have been stealing my watermelons and I cannot find any way to catch them. You stay here and we will try again to catch them.” Coyote and Puma meanwhile had returned home, where they fell to fighting over the woman they had seen. One declared, “I am going to marry her.” The other retorted, “No. I am going to marry her.” They fought until Coyote was killed. Puma thus killed his younger brother. That night Puma returned to Skunk’s watermelon patch and attempted to reach the woman, but he stuck hard and fast in the pitch. In the morning Skunk visited his watermelon patch, to see if the thief had been caught. Puma tried to bargain for his release. He promised to marry Skunk’s niece and make a good home for her, if Skunk would only release him. Skunk rudely interrupted him, saying, “You quit your talking,” and thereupon seized a handful of dirt and threw it into Puma’s eyes. “You stay there until you die,” said the heartless Skunk, declining to release his prisoner. Then Puma threatened, “I am going to call my mother’s brother. He is going to eat all of your people.” Puma’s uncle was Bear. The woman, Skunk’s niece, was beside herself with fear. “I do not know what I shall do,” she said. “I will be eaten by his uncle.” Skunk quieted her fears, saying, “You keep quiet. When Bear comes, he is going to be saucy like his nephew and I am going to punish him.” When Bear came, he pursued Skunk, who took refuge in a small pine tree. Skunk warned Bear, “Look out, Bear, it will be the death of both of us, if you climb this tree,” for the tree was bending ominously as Bear started to climb it. “Look out, look out! You are going to kill both of us, for there is a big canyon below,” said Skunk. Bear persisted in his endeavors to reach Skunk. “I am going to settle with you now,” said Skunk, as the tree bent out over the canyon. It bent clear across the canyon, so that Skunk jumped from the tree top to the opposite wall of the canyon. The tree flew up violently, causing Bear to lose his hold, so that he was dashed to pieces in the canyon below. Let us turn to Walking Skeleton and her adventures with Lizard. Upon reaching Lizard’s house, Walking Skeleton asked him if there were living with him any of his brothers or sisters, or his father, or his mother. Lizard replied that he had no father or mother, but that he had a brother, who was at that moment engaged in setting traps for mice. Walking Skeleton then picked up some hot ashes and threw them on Lizard’s back, burning him

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slightly. Lizard had an elderberry stick, from which he had removed the heart. To escape his tormentor, he entered it, holding it erect, and proceeded through it up into the sky. The baffled Walking Skeleton set fire to Lizard’s house, incidentally burning Lizard’s elder brother to death. The elder brother had returned and, not knowing that his younger brother had gone to the sky, had hidden himself under the bark of the house. Walking Skeleton set fire in a ring around Lizard’s house, so that Lizard’s elder brother could not escape from his hiding place in the bark of the house, and thus he was burned to death. When Lizard reached the sky, he entered Coyote’s house. Coyote made fun of Lizard’s hand and asked him why he wanted to have five fingers. “Why do you not have a hand like mine?” asked Coyote. Coyote had hands just like a dog. He had to pick up things with his mouth. Coyote wanted to kill Lizard, but was unable to catch him. He tried, tried many ways, but each attempt failed, though all the time he was wishing most earnestly that he could catch him. Then Coyote asked Lizard if he had seen Deer. Deer was Lizard’s mother’s brother. Finally Coyote devised a scheme for the murder of Lizard. He asked Lizard to accompany him to the top of a high precipitous rock there to assist him to capture Deer, Lizard’s own uncle. It was Coyote’s intention to shoot Lizard, once he got him there. When they arrived at the edge of the precipice Coyote looked down first and told Lizard that he could see Deer far below at the bottom of the cliff. Lizard looked down, but could not see Deer. Thereupon Coyote said, “Move a little further over. Stand right on the edge of the rock.” Lizard did as he was bidden and the treacherous Coyote pushed him over the precipice. However, Lizard was fortunate enough to lodge in a crevice. Coyote looked down and said, “I think I killed him.” He was greeted mockingly by Lizard who thrust his hand out from his place of lodgment and said, “You did not kill me.” As Coyote returned home he thought to himself, “I do not know what I shall do. It looks as though I could not kill Lizard. I suppose I shall have to give him one of my daughters to marry. That is the only way I can kill him.” Coyote had three daughters. Lizard returned to Coyote’s house. Coyote had an elder sister named Raccoon who lived near him. She had two daughters, who were both Snow Birds. These two daughters went down to the spring for water and found Lizard sitting there. Coyote’s three daughters repaired to the spring for water also and likewise saw Lizard sitting there. Lizard said to Coyote’s daughters, “Come, give me some water.”

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Coyote’s daughters said, “No. We will give you no water. Our father told us to have nothing to do with you.” They returned to their house and told their father that they had seen Lizard at the spring. “What did Lizard say to you?” asked Coyote. They replied that he had asked for water. “Did you give him any?” queried Coyote. “No,” the girls replied, “because you told us to have nothing to do with him.” “But I did not tell you to go and tell him that,” was Coyote’s angry criticism. “I intended to set some traps for him and catch him and kill him.” Lizard received a more friendly reception from Raccoon’s two daughters. “May I go to your house?” asked Lizard and they replied affirmatively. So Lizard went to Raccoon’s house with her two daughters. Coyote watched him as he went along in order to see what he was going to do. Coyote said, “Now that he has entered that house, we are going to kill him. I know that he intends to marry one of my sister’s daughters.” Happily for Lizard one of Coyote’s daughters, who had taken umbrage at her father’s scolding, came and made a hole through the house wall where Lizard was sitting, and informed him of her father’s plans. Upon receiving this intelligence, Lizard thrust his elderberry stick downward and took Raccoon, her two daughters, and himself down to earth. When Coyote entered Raccoon’s house to kill Lizard he found no one. After he had de-parted Lizard thrust his elderberry stick up again and he, Raccoon, and her two daughters all returned to the sky. Coyote heard a roaring like thunder, made by their arrival in the sky. Raccoon said to Lizard, “I will get some chaparral and wrap you and the two girls in it, so that it will look merely as though I were carrying some wood home to burn.” By this means she brought them to the house without Coyote’s knowledge. Coyote asked his daughters, “What did you dream about?” One replied, “I dreamed of rain and hail.” “Can you make it come true?” questioned Coyote. His daughter thought that she could. Then the wily Coyote sent one of his three daughters to Raccoon’s house, saying, “Go and see if Lizard is in that house.” Coyote’s daughter went to the house and peered in, but Raccoon threw a handful of dirt into her eyes, which made her cry, so she gave up in despair. Then Coyote sent a second daughter to see if Lizard was in Raccoon’s house, but Raccoon threw dirt into her eyes also. Then Coyote sent his third daughter, saying, “You go. I will gamble so that she may not get dirt into your eyes.”

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The third daughter went, and, every time that Raccoon threw dirt at her, she turned her head. She saw Lizard sitting in the house. This girl was the one who dreamt about the rain and hail. The girl returned to Coyote’s house. “Yes,” she said, “Lizard is there.” Coyote was pleased and said, “We are going to sing to bring the rain and hail. We will freeze them to death with rain and hail. We are going to kill all of them.” They commenced singing and dancing in their house, with the result that rain and hail came pouring down, so that it filled Raccoon’s house. Lizard put his elderberry stick horizontally across the upper part of the house and sat on it, together with Raccoon and her two daughters. After a time Coyote thought that his victims must be dead, so he sent one of his daughters to ascertain if they were. After looking into Raccoon’s house she returned and reported to her father, saying, “I think they are dead. The water inside is nearly up to the top of the house.” Lizard, Raccoon, and her daughters were two days on the elderberry stick, before the water subsided. When it went down and they were again on the floor of the house, Raccoon asked her daughters if they had dreamt of anything. One daughter said, “Yes. I dreamed of hot weather.” Then Raccoon said, “Let us sing and dance and make it come true, thereby revenging ourselves on Coyote and his family.” Lizard pleaded for Coyote, saying, “No. Do not do that. We do not want to abuse your brother that way.” But old Raccoon was not to be appeased and she said, “See how Coyote and his daughters have treated us. They have pretty nearly killed us. On account of you they pretty nearly killed us. They wanted to kill you too.” Then Lizard acquiesced and they began to dance and sing. After a while Coyote went out and cut some small oaks to make a sun-shelter as it was getting hot. He and his daughters became very thirsty, and Coyote went down to a pool to bathe. The water was cool and he said to his daughters, “This is all right. We are going to take a bath this way.” The second time he took a bath the water had become lukewarm, and the third time it had become rather hot. The fourth time when Coyote and his daughters jumped in, the water had reached the boiling point. They were all scalded to death. When Raccoon saw their dead bodies she said, “That is the way I punished you. You were mean to me, you, my own brother.” Having finished burning Lizard’s house, Walking Skeleton continued her travels. She encountered Prairie Falcon and his wife’s brother, Crow, gathering tobacco. She asked them what they were going to do with it.

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Prairie Falcon replied, “We are going to feed you upon it.” She went to her camp and secured her carrying basket. As she was walking along she again met Prairie Falcon and Crow. They were on their way to the country of the people without mouths. She said, “Let me carry you, my nephews (brother’s sons).” “Let us get into your basket ourselves,” they said. Nevertheless, she chased them, for she wanted to catch them and throw them into the basket, so that they would adhere to the pitch therein. In vain she pursued them for nearly a day. Then she went home and the two men proceeded to the country of mouthless and speechless people. There they saw great quantities of meat hanging on the bushes drying, also much meat that had been thrown away, meat that had not been eaten. They discussed what they saw and wondered why so much meat was wasted and how the people ate. A mouthless man, named Rainbow, came along. He took Prairie Falcon’s hand and put it on his (Rainbow’s) forehead. As soon as Prairie Falcon’s hand rested there mist and rainbows appeared every-where. Prairie Falcon and Crow stayed all night in that country. The mouthless people cooked meat, which they sniffed with their noses and then threw away. After seeing them do this, Prairie Falcon said to his brother-in-law Crow, “I do not know what we are going to do with them.” Rainbow motioned to them to cut open his mouth. Then Prairie Falcon and Crow cut them all open, so that they could eat meat. After they had cut open Rainbow’s mouth, he suggested to them that they go and play shinny. “Let us go and play shinny,” he said. “We will make some balls and sticks and play.” “All right,” said Prairie Falcon, “I will play shinny with you.” Upon looking around Rainbow’s habitation Prairie Falcon found his own mother, Wild Turkey, staked out with her legs cut off. He did not know her, but his mother recognized him and said, “I think you are my son. I had a pretty son named Prairie Falcon.” Prairie Falcon did not reply to his mother, whereupon his mother besought him, saying, “Come here and visit with me and talk with me.” Nevertheless Prairie Falcon said nothing; he just hung his head. He had been wondering if he had a mother. Rainbow’s plan to play shinny with Prairie Falcon and Crow was part of a scheme to encompass their destruction, over which he had pondered for some time. He went to the ground where the game was to be played and dug holes into which he put boiling pitch.

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Meantime Rainbow and his companions had interviewed Prairie Falcon and Crow and set the time for the game. “We are going to play shinny in about two days,” they said. “You can make yourself a stick and ball.” Then Prairie Falcon, although a male, made a nest and laid eggs to use for balls. He took one of his feathers to use as a stick to play shinny. When the time to play came, he told Rainbow that he had no stick and not even a ball. Rainbow therefore loaned him a stick and a ball, of which he said he had plenty. They started to play and Rainbow said, “We are going to play two games. These two pines are the goals. We will drive around them twice and then into the hole in the middle between them. If I win, I am going to throw you into that pitch.” Forthwith Rainbow drove his ball around once, whereupon he boasted, “One more round and I am going to beat you.” When Rainbow got half way around again, Prairie Falcon produced his own ball and stick and drove ahead of him. Rainbow said, “We are even.” It was now Prairie Falcon’s turn to boast and he said, “One more round and I am going to beat you.” Just about the time that Prairie Falcon was nearing the finishing hole, Walking Skeleton put in an appearance and chased the players about. She caught Rainbow and threw him into her basket. Immediately it became so foggy that no one could see. Prairie Falcon and his brother-in-law had to send for Great Horned Owl (muhu) to make daylight. Great Horned Owl came to Prairie Falcon and Crow and asked, “What do you want?” “We want daylight so that we can see where we are going in order that Walking Skeleton may not catch us,” they said. They asked Great Horned Owl how he was going to make daylight. He replied, “I am going to say, ‘Who are you (Ca hage)?’” He said it and made daylight. Then Prairie Falcon and Crow proceeded homeward. After arriving at home, they went hunting and again encountered Walking Skeleton. The following day they went out to get Prairie Falcon’s mother, Wild Turkey. She was nearly starved to death and they had to put wooden legs on her, to replace her real legs, which had been cut off. As they were accompanying her, Walking Skeleton came up and gave chase. She caught Wild Turkey without difficulty, because she could not run. Then she pursued the two men. They said to her, “Let us jump into your basket ourselves.” “All right,” she said. Then they jumped into the basket. They made fire with a buckeye fire-drill.

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Prairie Falcon said, “I dislike burning my mother,” for she was stuck in the pitch in the basket, “but she would have died anyway if I had not taken her from Rain-bow’s place.” Then he told Crow to make the fire, saying, “I am going to get my mother’s heart and eat it while you are making that fire.” Crow remonstrated with him, “Do not do that.” Prairie Falcon asked, “Why should I not do that?” His brother-in-law answered, “You will turn into a rock if you eat your mother’s heart.” Prairie Falcon persisted and said that he was going to eat it, to see if he did turn into a rock. His mother was already dead, so he took her heart and ate it. Prairie Falcon died when he ate that heart. His brother-in-law, Crow, did not know what to do, for Prairie Falcon had turned into a little bag of feathers. Crow made the fire, as Prairie Falcon had directed, and burned Walking Skeleton. Then he jumped out of Walking Skeleton’s burden basket with the little bag of feathers and took it home to Prairie Falcon’s sister. When Prairie Falcon’s sister took the bag of feathers, it turned into eggs and shinny stick. She threw the stick into the fire. When all but an inch or two of it had burned, Prairie Falcon popped out and flew around the house. He said, “You people are burning me. You awakened me. I was sound asleep.” Then Prairie Falcon became furious and uncontrollable. They could not catch him, as he dashed wildly about the house. His sister made a carrying cradle and finally did catch him and lashed him into it. Then they stood him against a tree, thinking that he would grow as tall as the tree. However, before he grew as tall as the tree, his mother Wild Turkey untied him. It seems that she was in the basket with him. From her heart, which he had eaten, she had been formed anew, after Prairie Falcon had been tied in the carrying cradle. After Prairie Falcon had been freed by his mother, she said to him, “I am going to get you a brother. Would you prefer Eagle or Vulture?” Prairie Falcon objected to both, saying, “They are both bald-headed. I do not want either of them for my brother.” Mean-while his brother-in-law Crow was listening behind the tree and almost bursting with laughter. While this conversation was going on, Salamander came along with a cane made of a king snake. Prairie Falcon jumped up and seized his cane, saying, “Give me that cane of yours.” So Salamander parted with his king-snake cane. Immediately the cane turned into a large and active king snake, which bit Prairie Falcon, so that he died. That was the last of Prairie Falcon. Crow, his brother-in-law, went across the mountains, where he fell into a large lake and was drowned. Prairie Falcon’s mother, Wild Turkey, caught a gopher snake, which she tied about herself as a

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belt and which squeezed her to death. Eagle came along to carry away the body of Prairie Falcon’s mother, but she turned into Vulture. She said that she was going to get Prairie Falcon’s body and eat his heart, but Eagle would not let her. Eagle killed her.

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388

Bibliography to Volume III

Angermiller, Florence. “Interview of Jack Robert Grigsby.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Batchler, E.V. “Interview of E. V. Batchler.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Beckwith, Martha Warren. Hawaiian Mythology. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940. Boatright, Mody Coggin. Mody Boatright, Folklorist: A Collection of Essays. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973. Bourke, John G. “Notes on Apache Mythology” Journal of American Folklore 3 (1890): 209–12. ———. “Popular Medicines, Customs and Superstitions of the Rio Grande.” Journal of American Folklore 7(1894): 119–46. Bowman, Earl. “Interview of Harry Reece.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Bushotter, George, and J. Owen Dorsey. “A Teton Dakota Ghost Story.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 68–72. Cushing, Frank Hamilton. “A Zuni Folk-tale of the Underworld.” Journal of American Folklore 5 (1892): 49–56. Davis, Nita. “Interview of Bill Holcomb.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript


Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of Dick McDonald.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Dixon, Roland B. “Achomawi and Atsugewi Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 159–77. ———. Oceanic Mythology. Boston: Marshall Jones, 1916. ———. “Some Coyote Stories from the Maidu Indians of California.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 267–68. Dorsey, George A. “Legend of the Teton Sioux Medicine Pipe.” Journal of American Folklore 19 (1906): 326–29. ———. The Mythology of the Wichita. Norman, OK: The University of Oklahoma Press, 1995. ———. “The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars.” Journal of American Folklore 17 (1904): 153–60. ———. “Wichita Tales. 1. Origin.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 215–39. Doyle, Elizabeth. “Interview of Mollie Privett.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Emery, W. M. “Interview of Jack Zurich.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Espinosa, Aurelio. The Folklore of Spain in the American Southwest: Traditional Spanish Folk Literature in Northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado. Edited by J. Manuel Espinosa. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985. ———. “New Mexican Spanish Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 223 (1910): 345–418. Farrer, Claire. Thunder Rides a Black Horse: Mescalero Apaches and the Mythic Present. 2nd edition. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press, 1996. Fewkes, J. Walter. “The Destruction of the Tusayan Monsters.” Journal of American Folklore 8 (1895): 132–137. Fife, Austin E. “The Legend of the Three Nephites Among the Mormons.” Journal of American Folklore 53 (1940): 1–49.

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Fornander, Abraham. Fornander Collection of Hawaiian Antiquities and Folk-lore. 3 vols. Honolulu: Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, 1916/1917–1919/1920. Gatschet, Albert S. “Report of a Visit to Jack Wilson, the Payute Messiah.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 108–11. Gayton, A. H., and Stanley S. Newman. Yokuts and Western Mono Myths. Millwood, NY: Kraus, 1976. Gibson, Robert O. The Chumash. New York: Chelsea House, 1991. Gifford, Edward Winslow. “Western Mono Myths.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 301–67. Grinell, George Bird. “Pawnee Mythology.” Journal of American Folklore 6 (1893): 113–30. “Interview of Bones Hooks.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. James, George Wharton. “A Saboba Origin Myth.” Journal of American Folklore 15 (1902): 36–39. Kawaharada, Dennis. Ancient Oahu: Stories from Fornander & Thrum. Honolulu: Kalamaku Press, 2001. Knox, Robert H. “A Blackfoot Version of the Magical Flight.” Journal of American Folklore 36 (1923): 401–3. Kroeber, Kroeber, Alfred L. “Cheyenne Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 13 (1900): 161–90. ———. Handbook of the Indians of California. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 78. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1925. ———. “Ute Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 14 (1901): 252–85. Kroeber, Henriette Rothschild. “Papago Coyote Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 339–42. Lowie, Robert H. “Shoshonean Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 37 (1924): 1–242. Lummis, Charles. Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories. New York: Century, 1910. Matthews, Washington. “A Folk-tale of the Hidatsa Indians.” The Folklore Record 1 (1878): 136–43. ———. Navajo Legends. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 5. New York: American Folklore Society, 1897. ———. “Noqoìlpi, the Gambler: A Navajo Myth.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 89–94.

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Parsons, Elsie Clews. Kiowa Tales. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 22. New York: American Folklore Society, 1929. ———. “Pueblo Indian Folk-tales, Probably of Spanish Provenience.” Journal of American Folklore 31 (1918): 216–55. ———. Tewa Tales. Memoirs of the American Folklore Society 19. New York: American Folklore Society, 1926. Phipps, Woody. “Interview of Robert Lindsey.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Russell, Frank. “Myths of the Jicarilla Apaches.” Journal of American Folklore 11 (1898): 253–71. Sapir, Jean. “Yurok Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 41 (1928): 253–61. Smith, Janet. “Interview of Elfego Baca.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Sparkman, P. S. “Notes of California Folklore: A Luiseño Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 21 (1908): 35–36. St. Clair, H. H., and R. H. Lowie. “Shoshone and Comanche Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 22 (1909): 265–282. Stewart, Omer C. The Northern Paiute Bands. Millwood, NY: Kraus, 1976. Stirling, Matthew W. Origin Myth of Acoma and Other Records. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 135. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1942. Strong, William D. University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology. Vol. 26, Aboriginal Society in Southern California. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1929. Tejada, Simeon. “Interview of Manuel Jesus Vasques.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Totty, Francis. “Interview of Maurice Coates.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Townsend, Edward. “Interview of A. Harry Williams.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940.

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Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 16 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Walden, Wayne. “Interview of Annette Hamilton.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 16 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of Mrs. R. Ivanoff.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Weigle, Martha, and Peter White. The Lore of New Mexico. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988. West, John O. Mexican-American Folklore. Little Rock, AR: August House, 1988. Westervelt, W. D. Hawaiian Legends of Ghosts and Ghost-Gods. Boston: Ellis Press, 1916. ———. Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu. Boston: G. H. Ellis Press, 1915. ———. Hawaiian Legends of Volcanoes. Boston: G. H. Ellis Press,1916. Will, George F. “No-Tongue, A Mandan Tale.” Journal of American Folklore 26 (1913): 331–37. ———. “The Story of No-Tongue.” Journal of American Folklore 29 (1916): 402–6. Wissler, Clark. “Some Dakota Myths.” Part 1. Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 121–31. ———. “Some Dakota Myths.” Part 2. Journal of American Folklore 20 (1907): 195–206. N.A. “Witchcraft in New Mexico.” Journal of American Folklore 1 (1888): 167–68. Wrenn, Sarah B. “Interview of Annie Cason Lee.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 11 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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About the Editor

T



The Greenwood Library of American Folktales VOLUME IV

The Northwest, Cyberspace





Contents

VOLUME IV The Northwest Introduction Origins The Giver Creates the World Arrow Young Men: Creation of the World Fable of the Animals Origin of Fire The Theft of Fire Coyote Arranges the Seasons of the Year Coyote Frees the Salmon The Origin of the Seasons and of the Mountains The Origin of Death The Xudele Origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman The Origin of the Narwhal The Woman Who Married a Dog Recovering the Sun Brother and Sister

1 3 7 7 11 14 16 18 20 25 27 28 29 32 34 36 38 40

Contents

The Sad Woman The First Ship Seen by the Clatsop How the Lee Family Came to Oregon The Blue Bucket Mine Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools The Children of the Dog Qauaxsaqssuq The Giant Women The Girls Who Married Stars Hunting Exploits of the God K’mukamtch The Five Grizzly Bears The Girl Who Married Her Brother Coyote and the Old Woman The Death of the Grizzly Bears Coyote and Raccoon Coyote’s Amorous Adventures Coyote and Pitch Coyote and Beaver The Great Snowfall The Fight Between the Coyote People and the Bat People Coyote and the Stump-Man The Killing of the Dutchman Thunder and His Son-in-Law When Raven Wanted to Marry Snowbird and Fly with the Geese Blue Jay and His Sister Robin and Blue Jay The Beaver and the Woodrat The Story of Skunk Big Fred The Gold Brick The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales Coyote Creates Taboos The Doom of the Katt-a-quins The Marmot Woman

vi

42 43 45 47 51 51 54 55 61 65 66 71 73 79 82 83 84 86 89 91 92 94 96 98 100 113 115 116 120 124 127 127 133 136

Contents

The Visit to the Sky Legend of Sattik Amhuluk, the Monster of the Mountain Pool The Bewitched Wives Qautipalung The Man and Woman Who Became Sea-Otters The Brother and Sister Who Became Hair-Seals The Powers That Be: Secular Tales The Woman Who Was Fond of Intestines The Maddest Man in Town

138 140 142 143 145 146 148 151 151 156

Appendix Cyberspace Origins Kentucky Fried Chicken Becomes KFC John Kerry’s Medals Red Bull Chronic Dehydration Spielberg’s Crusade (Parody?) Life Without Black People Why We Love Children Heroes, Heroines, Tricksters, and Fools Mr. Jones’s Advice An Act of Kindness The Navy Seal and the Atheist T-Bone Steak Grandmother’s Revenge A Patriot’s Answer to an Iraqi Teamster Boycott Wal-Mart Boycott Home Depot Boycott How Many Aggie Foremen Does It Take Priceless Jane Fonda Nomination

161 163 165 165 166 168 169 169 170 172 175 175 176 178 179 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189

vii

Contents

Bush Refuses to Sell Home to Blacks Attacker in the Backseat Body Part Initiation Mall Abduction Ploys Poison Perfume Perfume Mugger Restroom Kidnapping Handshake Assault Date Rape Drug The Chloroformed Roommate HIV Needles Poison Payphone Car Jacking Scheme World Trade Center Survivor’s Son Joins the Terrorists Katrina Worker Report 809 Scam 90# Scam Slavemaster Anger Management Gullibility Virus The Mother of All Urban Legends Organ Theft Parody Finally Putting to Rest E-mail Myths George and Saddam Death of William Hung White Substance Delays Aggie Football Practice Tales from Northern Michigan Redneck Vasectomy Toilet Paper Miracle Wanted for Attempted Murder Free Honda The Rich Adolescent’s Chain Letter The Powers That Be: Sacred Tales Christians Charged for Reading Bible in Prison

viii

191 192 193 196 198 199 202 203 203 204 205 205 206 207 208 211 216 218 218 221 223 225 226 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 237 241 241

Contents

Procter and Gamble and Liz Claiborne Confess to Church of Satan on Sally “Touched by an Angel” Cancellation The Dalai Lama’s Instructions for Life Life Lessons Hotline to Heaven Wailing Wall The Powers That Be: Secular Tales Black Vote Cancelled Elevator Intimidation President Bush’s IQ Ticket Rip-off The Little Alligator’s Problem Go to School Gasoline Company Boycott E-mail Charge Neiman Marcus Cookies Deadly Ball Pits Money Talks Terrorist Halloween Attacks on Malls Poisoned Coca-Cola Boycott Dunkin’ Donuts 7–Eleven Terrorism Citibank Boycott American Women vs. the Taliban Guantanamo Bay Detainees Alligators in the Toilet Katrina Blunders Debit Card Abuse by Katrina Victims Glossary Bibliography to Volume IV General Bibliography Cumulative Index

242 244 245 246 249 250 253 253 254 255 257 258 259 259 262 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 271 272 273 274 275 277 279 281 285 301

ix

THE NORTHWEST

Introduction

T

he Northwest Region, as interpreted by The Greenwood Encyclopedia of American Folktales, encompasses the states of Idaho, Oregon, Washington, Alaska, and the Aleutian Islands. The area from roughly northern California up the coast to southern Alaska has commonly been called the Pacific Northwest. This is an area of coasts, mountain ranges, and thick forests, which include rain forests. The eastern fringe areas of the Northwest Region include portions of the Basin and Plateau terrains discussed in Volume III of this series. The focus of this volume will be on the Northwest Coast and the cultures that developed in response to that environment, ecologically and historically. The Native American cultures of the Northwest Coast attained an extremely high level of cultural complexity due to the abundance and dependability of food resources, and because of the presence of thick jungle-like forests. The people of this region all lived on or very near the coast. The many deep fjords, streams leading to the coast, and offshore islands provided an almost endless coastline where they could build their villages and avail themselves of the ample maritime resources. Because salmon was such a reliable source of food, Northwest Coast cultures such as the Tlingit were able to develop stable settlements and devote less time to the business of staying alive (see “The Doom of the Katt-a-quins,” p. 133, for a vignette of the Tlingit lifestyle.) As a result of this stability, they were afforded the leisure to develop complex social, religious, and technological systems that contrast sharply with their neighbors, the Basin culture of the interior or the Inuit and Yupik (Eskimo) cultures. Moreover, the forests provided a ready supply of timber for the construction of housing, containers, handles and shafts of

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales | Volume IV

weapons, and the distinctive Northwestern “totem pole.” There was little stone in the area for making tools, so many of their tools were made of hardwood. Thus, it was the skill and knowledge of the people rather than the quality of their tools that enabled them to develop excellence in their art and architecture. Villages generally were located on the shore, along a large river, or on a lagoon or bay. Just above the high water mark stood the first row of houses. The houses were two to three rows deep depending upon the width of the beach area. The wooden houses of the Northwest Coast tribes were built to last, and a mark of a man’s wealth was his house. Among these groups, great effort went into the building of a house and the bigger and more decorated it was, the greater the status it brought its owner. There were all sizes of houses with the smaller ones being about fifteen by twenty feet while a really impressive one might be as large as one hundred feet long by forty feet wide. The average was twenty by forty feet. These plank houses were carefully notched together and assembled without the use of pegs or nails. Salmon were the mainstay of the cultures in the region. In addition, shellfish were eaten, and in some of the Northwest Coast groups whaling was carried on. Hunting and gathering—while not nearly as important as fishing—helped to supplement their diet. Deer, bears, and sea mammals were hunted, snared, or in the case of seals, harpooned. There was also a strong feeling that a hunter should purify himself before killing game. Sweat baths, fasts, sexual abstinence, and abstention from water were all used as preparation for hunting and as preparation for war. As with many other Native American groups, it was believed that an animal or fish allowed itself to be taken. Its spirit, released by death, returned again and again—provided that the proper care was taken and that its spirit was not offended by humans. Both “Legend of Sattik” (p. 140) and “Coyote Creates Taboos” (p. 127) emphasize the same point. The belief carries all the way up the Pacific Coast to Alaska. There was a general belief on the Northwest Coast that salmon lived in houses under the sea. When they were at home, they assumed a human form, ate, and carried on ceremonies just like humans. Assuming fish form, they allowed themselves to be caught. If their bones were returned to the sea, they re-assumed their human form, but would come again. From this belief came religious practices to guarantee the return of their bones to the sea in order to assure the return of the salmon. All other game was treated with respect as well, in both public and private ritual. The Northwest Coast societies were highly stratified: positions from chiefdom to commoner status were inherited. At the bottom of the social hierarchy were slaves. The principle of status and the accumulation of wealth as a symbol

4

The Northwest | Introduction

of power is a cultural feature that serves as a unifying feature throughout the Northwest Coast groups. A major means of using wealth symbolically is seen in the trait of giving wealth away extravagantly and publicly, in order to attain status, in a ceremony called a potlatch. Northwest Coast religions also had a well-developed concept of guardian spirits. Protection by a guardian spirit was necessary to attain success in life. Contact by the guardian might come on its own, but more often the spirit helper was consciously sought. The spirit gave the person to whom it appeared a special talent or the ability to succeed in a certain area of his life. This could be the promise of wealth, success in war, power at gambling, or the curing power of a shaman, for example. Further north on the coast and into the interior of Alaska and on the Aleutian Islands are the group that Europeans designated as the Eskimo or Aleut. While some Native Alaskans and Aleutians retain the designations, the twentieth century brought about the assertion by the people of their indigenous designations of Inuit—Yupik in the case of the former and Alutiiq for the latter. In the following narratives, the older designations of Eskimo or Aleut are retained following the leads of the original collectors of these narratives because the more familiar designations, though imprecise, tend to be more “reader friendly,” and also because the original sources frequently do not provide sufficient information to distinguish the cultural affiliation precisely. Although the Arctic and sub-Arctic environment shared by the Native Alaskans provides a common environmental baseline, different lifestyles derived from differing specific habitats. The groups living along rivers, for example, tend to be more sedentary, reside in larger groups, and organize into larger kinship units the hunting and gathering bands residing in the Arctic interior. Therefore, it is erroneous to think of the environment as barren. As the Inuit and Yupik north-south range is great, there is variation in topography, landform, climate, vegetation, and fish and game availability. Northern Alaska is tundra stretching from Brooks Range to the Arctic Ocean. The area is swampy and boggy in summer and snow covered in winter. Along the rivers and streams, people hunt great herds of the caribou that inhabit this coastal plain. Hunting in these environments, like coastal whaling, creates community solidarity. These features differ from the maritime dwellers of the coast and riverine fishers. Neither of the systems mentioned above allowed for tribal consciousness. Groups were organized as bands, a socioeconomic unit with frequently changing membership. An individual was free to move about and associate with any other band. Social organization, particularly in the case of the hunters and gatherers, was built primarily around nuclear families—the mother, father, and children.

5


This social organization resulted from the harsh environmental factors. The nuclear structure was more supportive to hunting and gathering. The exception to the general rule is found in Southwestern and Southern Alaska. Here we find an extended family organization that arises out of the need for cooperative labor. Europeans established their presence in the Northwest Region with maritime trades like whaling. The western migration of farm families, which details “How the Lee Family Came to Oregon” (p. 45), began as early as the first half of the nineteenth century. The lure of vast natural resources from the forests attracted everyone from the logging trade to the miners hoping for quick riches (see “The Blue Bucket Mine,” p. 47). By the end of the nineteenth century, a cultural mix of European, Asian, and Native cultures existed in the Northwest.

SUGGESTED READINGS Balilci, Asen. The Netsilik Eskimo. Garden City, NY: Natural History Press, 1970. Chance, Norman A. The Eskimo of North Alaska. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1966. Kamenskii, Annatolii. Tlingit Indians of Alaska. Translated and with an introduction and supplementary material by Sergei Kan. Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 1985. Oswalt, Wendell H. Bashful No Longer: An Alaskan Eskimo Ethnohistory 1778–1988. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1990. Suttles, Wayne. Handbook of the North American Indians. Vol. 7, Northwest Coast. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution, 1990.

6

ORIGINS THE GIVER CREATES THE WORLD Tradition Bearer: Charlie DePoe Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 224–28. Date: 1900 Original Source: Joshua National Origin: Native American

Historically, the Joshua lived in the Rogue River in southwestern Oregon. They were Athapascan speakers, but relatively little was preserved about their culture. The Giver (the creator figure in this myth) is depicted as a benign figure. He is far from omnipotent, failing twice in his attempt to create human beings, for example. The second half of the myth is devoted to the development of the human social order. This is a particularly well-crafted narrative for this area of the Western Region. Compare this story to the following “Arrow Young Men: Creation of the World” (p. 11), for example.

I

n the beginning there was no land. There was nothing but the sky, some fog, and water. The water was still; there were no breakers. A sweat-house stood on the water, and in it there lived two men: The Giver and his companion. The companion had tobacco. He usually stood outside watching, while the Giver remained in the sweat-house.


One day it seemed to the watcher as if daylight were coming. He went inside and told the Giver that he saw something strange coming. Soon there appeared something that looked like land, and on it two trees were growing. The man kept on looking, and was soon able to distinguish that the object that was approaching was white land. Then the ocean began to move, bringing the land nearer. Its eastern portion was dark. The western part kept on moving until it struck the sweathouse, where it stopped. It began to stretch to the north and to the south. The land was white like snow. There was no grass on it. It expanded like the waves of the ocean. Then the fog began to disappear, and the watcher could look far away. He went into the sweat-house, and asked, “Giver, are you ready?” and he said, “Is the land solid?” “Not quite,” replied the man. Then the Giver took some tobacco and began to smoke. He blew the smoke on the land, and the land became motionless. Only two trees were growing at that time: redwood to the south, and ash to the north. Five times the Giver smoked, while discussing with his companion various means of creating the world and the people. Then night came, and after that daylight appeared again. Four days the Giver worked; and trees began to bud, and fell like drops of water upon the ground. Grass came up, and leaves appeared on the trees. The Giver walked around the piece of land that had stopped near his sweathouse, commanding the ocean to withdraw and to be calm. Then the Giver made five cakes of mud. Of the first cake he made a stone, and dropped it into the water, telling it to make a noise and to expand, as soon as it struck the bottom. After a long while he heard a faint noise, and knew then that the water was very deep. He waited some time before dropping the second cake. This time he heard the noise sooner, and knew that the land was coming nearer to the surface. After he had dropped the third cake, the land reached almost to the surface of the water. So he went into the sweathouse and opened a new sack of tobacco. Soon his companion shouted from the outside, “It looks as if breakers were coming!” The Giver was glad, because he knew now that the land was coming up from the bottom of the ocean. After the sixth wave the water receded, and he scattered tobacco all over sand appeared. More breakers came in, receding farther and farther westward. Thus the land and the world were created. To the west, to the north, and to the south there was tidewater; to the east the land was dry. The new land was soft, and looked like sand. The Giver stepped on it, and said, “I am going to see if the great land has come;” and as he stepped, the land grew hard. Then he looked at the sand, and saw a man’s tracks. They seemed to have come from the north, disappearing in the water on the south. He wondered what that could mean, and was very much worried. He went back to his first piece of land, and told

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The Northwest | The Giver Creates the World

the water to overflow the land he had created out of the five cakes of mud. Some time afterwards he ordered the water to recede, and looked again. This time he saw the tracks coming from the west, and returning to the water on the north side. He was puzzled, and ordered the water to cover up his new land once more. Five times he repeated this process. At last he became discouraged, and said, “This is going to make trouble in the future!” And since then there has always been trouble in the world. Then he began to wonder how he could make people. First he took some grass, mixed it with mud, and rubbed it in his hands. Then he ordered a house to appear, gave the two mud figures to his companion, and told him to put them into the house. After four days two dogs—a male and a bitch—appeared. They watched the dogs, and twelve days later the bitch gave birth to pups. He then made food for the dogs. All kinds of dogs were born in that litter of pups. They were all howling’. After a while he went to work again. He took some white sand from the new land, and made two figures in the same way as before. He gave the figures to his companion, and ordered a house for them. Then he warned the dogs not to go to the new house, as it was intended for the new people. After thirteen days the Giver heard a great hissing; and a big snake came out of the house, followed by a female snake and by many small snakes. He felt bad when he saw this, and went to his companion, telling him that this trouble was due to the tracks that had first appeared in the world. Soon the land became full of snakes, which, not having seen the Giver, wondered how every-thing had come about. The world was inhabited by dogs and snakes only. One day the Giver wished three baskets to appear, gave them to his companion, and told him to fill them partly with fresh water and partly with salt water. Then he put ten of the biggest snakes into the baskets, crushed them, and threw them into the ocean. Two bad snakes got away from him; and all snakelike animals that live today come from these snakes. He said to these two snakes, “You two will live and surround the world like a belt, so that it won’t break!” Then he crushed five bad dogs in the same way, made a great ditch with his finger, and threw the dogs into the ditch. These dogs became water-monsters. All animals that raise their heads above the water and smell, and then disappear quickly under the water, came from these five dogs. Pretty soon the Giver began to think again, “How can I make people? I have failed twice!” Now, for the first time his companion spoke. He said, “Let me smoke tonight, and see if people will not come out (of the smoke).” For three days he smoked, at the end of which a house appeared with smoke coming out of it. The man told the Giver, “There is a house!” After a while a beautiful woman came out of the house, carrying a water-basket.

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Then the Giver was glad, and said, “Now we shall have no more trouble in creating people.” The woman did not see him and his companion, as they were watching her. After nine days the woman became sad and wondered who her father and relatives were. She had plenty of food. One day the Giver said to his companion, “Stay here and take this woman for your wife! You shall have children and be the father of all the people. I am leaving this world. Everything on it shall belong to you.” And the man answered, “It is well; but, perchance, I too may have troubles.” Then the Giver asked him, “How are you going to be troubled?” So the man said, “Do you make this woman sleep, so that I can go to her without her seeing me.” The woman found life in the house very easy. Whenever she wished for anything, it appeared at once. About noon she felt sleepy for the first time. When night came, she prepared her bed and lay down. As soon as she was sound asleep, the man went in to her. She was not aware of this, but dreamed that a handsome man was with her. This was an entirely new dream to her. At daybreak she woke up and looked into the blanket. No one was there, although she was sure that someone had been with her. She wished to know who had been with her that night. So next evening she prepared her bed again, hoping that the same would happen; but no one came to her. She did the same every night without any one coming near her. Soon the woman became pregnant. The Giver and his companion were still on the land, watching her; but she could not see them, because they were invisible to her. After a while the child was born. It was a boy. He grew very fast. The young woman made a cradle for him. After six months the boy could talk. The woman still wanted to know who the father of her child was. So one day she wrapped the child in blankets, and said, “I will neglect the boy and let him cry, and, perchance, his father may come. I will go and look at the country.” She started south, carrying the baby on her back. She traveled for ten years, seeing no one and never looking at the child. After a long time she could hear only a faint sound coming from behind. Nothing remained of the boy but skin and bones. Finally she stopped at SaLo¯mä, and here for the first time she took the child from her back and looked at it. Its eyes were sunken and hollow; the boy was a mere skeleton. The woman felt bad and began to cry. She took the boy out of the cradle and went to the river to bathe. After she had put on her clothes, she felt of the child’s heart. It was still beating! The boy urinated, and was dirty all over. His body was covered with maggots, and he had acquired various diseases. The woman took him to the water and washed his body. She had no milk with which to feed him: so she sang a medicine-song, and milk came to her. She gave the

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The Northwest | Arrow Young Men: Creation of the World

breast to the child, but it was too weak to suck: hence she had to feed it gradually. As the days went by, the boy grew stronger. After three days his eyes were better. Then they went back to their house, where they found plenty of food. The boy grew soon into a strong and handsome man, and was helping his mother with her work. One day he asked her, “Mother, where is your husband?” and she replied, “I only dreamed of my husband.” Then she told him all that had happened before he was born; and the boy said, “Oh! Perchance my father may turn up some day.” Then the Giver said to his companion, “The woman is home now.” That night the woman longed for her husband. She had been dreaming all the time that he was a handsome man, and that her boy looked just like him. At dusk it seemed to her as if someone were coming. Her heart began to beat. Soon she heard footsteps. The door opened, and her boy exclaimed, “Oh, my father has come!” She looked and saw the man of her dreams. At first she was ashamed and bashful. The man told her all that had happened before, and claimed her as his wife. One day the Giver told the man that all the world had been made for him. Then he instructed him how to act at all times and under all conditions. He also admonished him to have more children, and the man had sixteen children. The first one was a boy, then came a girl, then another boy, and so on. Half of his children went to live north of the Rogue River, while the other half settled down south of the river. The Giver told the man that hereafter he would obtain everything by wishing. Then he straightened out the world, made it flat, and placed the waters. He also created all sorts of animals, and cautioned the man not to cut down more trees or kill more animals than he needed. And after all this had been done, he bade him farewell and went up to the sky, saying, “You and your wife and your children shall speak different languages. You shall be the progenitors of all the different tribes.”

ARROW YOUNG MEN: CREATION OF THE WORLD Tradition Bearer: Jim Buchanan Source: Frachtenberg, Leo J. Pages 5–14 in Coos Texts. Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology 1. New York: Columbia University Press, 1913. Date: 1909 Original Source: Coos National Origin: Native American

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The Coos of Oregon shared traits of both the Northwest Coast and Northern California cultures. The people lived in permanent winter villages in houses constructed from cedar planks. Each village operated as an independent unit under the guidance of a headman. During the migration of salmon and eels, the group relocated to seasonal camps upriver. The environment furnished a varied diet of fish, elk, deer, roots, plant greens, nuts, and berries. Everything in the Coos world was believed to have a spirit essence. These spirits could guide and protect the individual; therefore, at puberty, both young men and women made a vision quest to gain a guardian spirit. The following myth bears many similarities to the more fully developed “The Giver Creates the World” (p. 7).

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wo young men were traveling. They stopped in the middle of their journey, and one of them said, “How would it be if we two should try it? What do you think about it?” “It would be good if we two should try it,” answered the other one. “We ought to try it with that soot here.” They had five pieces (disks) of soot. Now they stopped and dropped one piece into the ocean. The world at that time was without land. Everything was covered with water. Again they dropped one piece (disk). The ocean was rolling over the disk. The next day they dropped another disk. Then they stopped at some small place and dropped another disk into the ocean. They looked at it from above. Now land began to appear, and they saw it. They were very glad when they saw the land coming up. The next day they dropped another disk. Land began to stick out (come up). They looked frequently at the waves, which rolled back and forth continually. “What is your opinion?” said one of the two men. Shall we try it again?” “With what shall we try it?” asked the other one. The water was still rolling back and forth. “Let us split this mat.” They did so, and placed the two pieces over the five disks of soot. Now they went down to examine it. Still the land was not solid enough. So one of them said, “Let us split this basket in two!” They split it, and put it on the sand beach. The waves were held back now, since the water was able to go down through the basket.

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The Northwest | Arrow Young Men: Creation of the World

Now the young men went down and examined the land. “This will do,” said one of them. “It’s good that way.” Now they began to look around the world that they had created. There were no trees. “Suppose we set up some trees,” said one of them. “It would be very good,” answered the other one. Then they stuck into the ground the feathers of an eagle. The feathers began to grow, and developed soon into fir-trees. “All kinds of trees shall grow,” said the older man. All the different kinds of trees commenced to grow. “Suppose we create animals,” said one of the young men. “It won’t be good if there shouldn’t be any animals. The future generations ought to have animals.” (Then they created animals.) Early in the morning they went to look at the world they had created. Suddenly they saw tracks on the ocean beach. “Whose tracks may these be?” asked one of them. They followed the tracks, and soon came upon a person sitting on the top of a snag. “You, indeed, must have made these tracks. Who are you?” “I am a medicine-man,” answered the person whose face was painted all over with red paint. “You have no right to travel here. This is our world, we have made it. Are you surely a medicine-man?” They seized the stranger and killed him. Then they spilled his blood in all directions, and said to him, “You will be nothing, the last generation shall see you.” Then they turned back. Suddenly one of them became pregnant. The child could not come out. “What will become of us? We ought to have wives.” None of them had done anything; nevertheless he became pregnant. The child was all the time trying to come out, but could not do it. So they sent someone to the north, and told him, “There is a man living there. He is a good man. Bring him here.” Someone went to get him. They went out in a canoe. To their surprise, there were no waves. So they wished that waves would come. “Five times shall the north wind come and bring five breakers.” And so it was. They were waiting for the fifth wave. And when this came, they went ashore. (They found the man, and brought him to the pregnant person.) As soon as he saw the pregnant man, he took out the child. It was a girl. From this girl all the people took their origin. She caused the people to multiply, and to inhabit the world. Now the young men continued their journey. They once more examined the world that they had created, and found it to be good. Everything began to assume its present appearance.

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They both had bows. “How would it be if we should shoot towards the sky?” Indeed, they began to shoot. They looked at their arrows as they were shooting them. “You too ought to shoot one arrow,” said one of the young men. “Shoot it so that it shall hit the shaft of mine, and it will look as if it were one arrow; but don’t shoot too hard!” He shot and hit it. “Shoot again!” Their arrows became joined, and reached down to the place where they were standing. “Suppose we climb up now!” “All right!” They shook the, arrows. “Are they firm? Won’t they come apart? Now you try to climb up!” He climbed up. “This is very good indeed.” Then the other man climbed up. They looked down, and saw the beautiful appearance of the world that they had created. Nobody knows what became of the two young men. Here the story ends.

FABLE OF THE ANIMALS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Powers, Stephen. “North American Indian Legends and Fables.” Folk-Lore Record 5 (1882): 93–95. Date: ca. 1882 Original Source: Karok National Origin: Native American

The Karok historically lived in villages along the banks of the Klamath and Salmon Rivers in Oregon. Their villages consisted of dwellings built from cedar planks and other structures such as the sweat lodge used for health and ceremonies. Like the other indigenous cultures of the area, they fished, hunted, and gathered wild plant foods. The following myth of creation explains why Coyote got cunning rather than strength and why in other Karok narratives Coyote serves as culture hero for humanity (see, for example, “The Theft of Fire,” p. 18).

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The Northwest | Fable of the Animals

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great many hundred snows ago, Kareya, sitting on the Sacred Stool, created the world. First he made the fishes in the big water, then the animals on the green land, and last of all, The Man. But the animals were all alike yet in power, and it was not yet ordained which should be for food to others, and which should be food for The Man. Then Kareya bade them all assemble together in a certain place, that The Man might give each his power and his rank. So the animals all met together, a great many hundred snows ago, on an evening when the sun was set, that they might wait overnight for the coming of The Man on the morrow. Now Kareya commanded The Man to make bows and arrows, as many as there were animals, and to give the longest to the one that should have the most power, and the shortest to the one that should have the least. So he did, and after nine sleeps his work was ended, and the bows and arrows that he made were very many. Now the animals being gathered together in one place, went to sleep, that they might rise on the morrow and go forth to meet The Man. But the coyote was exceedingly cunning, above all the beasts that were, he was so cunning. So he considered within himself how he might get the longest bow, and so have the greatest power, and have all animals for his meat. He determined to stay awake all night, while the others slept, and so go forth first in the morning and get the longest bow. This he devised within his cunning mind, and then he laughed to himself and stretched out his snout on his forepaws, and pretended to sleep like the others. But about midnight he began to get sleepy, and he had to walk around camp and scratch his eyes a considerable time to keep them open. But still he grew more sleepy, and he had to skip and jump about like a good one to keep awake. He made so much noise this way that he woke up some of the other animals, and he had to think of another plan. About the time the morning star came up he was so sleepy that he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. Then he took two little sticks, and sharpened them at the ends, and propped open his eyelids, whereupon he thought he was safe, and he concluded he would just take a little nap with his eyes open, watching the morning star. But in a few minutes he was sound asleep, and the sharp sticks pierced through his eyelids, and pinned them fast together. So the morning star mounted up very swiftly, and then there came a peep of daybreak, and the birds began to sing, and the animals began to wake and rise, and stretch themselves, but still the coyote lay fast asleep. At last it was broad daylight, and. then the sun rose, and all the animals went forth to meet The Man. He gave the longest bow to the cougar, so he had the greatest power of all; and the second longest to the bear; and so on, giving the next to the last to the

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poor frog. But he still had the shortest one left, and he cried out, “What animal have I missed?” Then the animals began to look about, and they soon spied the coyote lying fast asleep, with the sharp sticks pinning his eyelids together. Upon that all the animals set up a great laugh, and they jumped on the coyote and danced upon him. Then they led him to The Man—for he could see nothing because of the sticks—and The Man pulled out the sticks, and gave him the shortest bow of all, which would hardly shoot an arrow more than a foot. And all the animals laughed very much. But The Man took pity on the coyote, because he was now the weakest of all animals, even than the frog, and he prayed to Kareya for him, and Kareya gave him cunning, ten times more than before, so that he was cunning above all the animals of the wood. So the coyote was a friend to The Man and to his children after him, and helped him, and did many things for him, as we shall see hereafter. In the legendary lore of the Karok, the coyote plays the same conspicuous part that Reynard does in ours, and the sagacious tricks that are accredited him are endless. When one Karok has killed another, he frequently barks like the coyote, in the belief that he will thereby be endued with so much of that animal’s cunning that he will be able to elude the punishment due to his crime.

ORIGIN OF FIRE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Powers, Stephen. “North American Indian Legends and Fables.” Folk-Lore Record 5 (1882): 95–96. Date: ca. 1882 Original Source: Karok National Origin: Native American

The following myth of their acquisition of fire casts Coyote in the culture hero role, and secondarily explains features such as the ground squirrel’s distinctive markings and the frog’s lack of a tail.

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The Northwest | Origin of Fire

These markings serve as reminders of the bond between humanity and the natural world.

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he Karok now had plenty of food, but there was no fire to cook it with. Far away toward the rising sun, somewhere in a land that no Karok had ever seen, Kareya bad made fire and hidden it in a casket, which be gave to two old hags to keep, lest some Karok should steal it. So now the coyote befriended the Karok again, and promised to bring them some fire. He went out and got together a great company of animals, one of every kind, from the lion down to the frog. These he stationed in a line all along the road from the home of the Karok to the far-distant land where the fire was, the weakest animal nearest home and the strongest near the fire. Then he took an Indian with him and hid him ender a hill, and went to the cabin of the hags who kept the casket, and rapped on the door. One of them came out, and he said “Good evening,” and they replied “Good evening.” Then he said, “It’s a pretty cold night; can you let me sit by your fire?” And they said “Yes, come in.” So he went in and stretched himself out before the fire, and reached his snout out towards the blaze, and sniffed the heat and felt very snug and comfortable. Finally he stretched his nose out along his fore-paws, and pretended to go to sleep, though he kept the corner of one eye open watching the old hags. But they never slept, day or night, and he spent the whole night watching and thinking to no purpose. So next morning he went out and told the Indian, whom he had hidden under the hill, that he must make an attack on the hags’ cabin, as if he were about to steal some fire, while he (the coyote) was in it. He then went back and asked the hags to let him in again, which they did, as they did not think a coyote would steal any fire. He stood close by the casket of fire, and when the Indian made a rush on the cabin, and the hags dashed out after him at one door, the coyote seized a brand in his teeth and ran out at the other door. He almost flew over the ground; but the hags saw the sparks flying and gave chase, and gained on him fast. But by the time he was out of breath he reached the lion, who took the brand and ran with it to the next animal, and so on, each animal barely having time to give it to the next before the hags came up.

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The next to the last in the line was the ground squirrel. He took the brand and ran so fast with it that his tail got a-fire, and he curled it up over his back, and so burned the black spot we see to this day just behind his fore-shoulders. Last of all was the frog, but he, poor brute, couldn’t run at all, so he opened his mouth wide and the squirrel chucked the fire into it, and he swallowed it down with a gulp. Then he turned and gave a great jump, but the hags were so close in pursuit that one of them seized him by the tail (he was a tad-pole then) and tweaked it off, and that is the reason why frogs have no tails to this day. He swam under water a long distance, as long as he could hold his breath, then came up and spit out the fire into a log of driftwood, and there it has stayed safe ever since, so that when an Indian rubs two pieces of wood together the fire comes forth.

THE THEFT OF FIRE Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 209–10. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

The primary food sources for the Shasta living along the rivers in southern Oregon were salmon, trout, and shellfish, while those at higher elevations relied more on hunting and trapping wild game for their food. Like other hunters and gatherers in the area, they depended on a variety of plant foods, especially acorns. They constructed permanent winter villages of wood and packed dirt, and, as with other cultures in the area, a sweat lodge was built and used regularly. This particular firestealing myth is common in the Northwest. It is worth noting that while Coyote does act as culture hero in the following narrative, his motive is given as dissatisfaction rather than altruism.

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The Northwest | The Theft of Fire

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e shall have to change this rock so that we can have regular fire,” said Coyote one day. He was tired of having to pile rocks in order to obtain heat. He was not satisfied. “There is a shaman,” he continued, “who has regular fire, and I shall try to obtain some from him.” The other people tried to dissuade him from this dangerous undertaking, but he paid no heed to them. He started out, and soon came to the place where the fire was kept. All the firekeepers had gone on a man-hunt, and only the children were left in charge. Coyote approached the fire with a stick in his hand. “Who are you? Where have you been?” one of the children asked him suspiciously. “Oh, visiting relatives around here,” Coyote answered. One child said, “My father warned us that no one but Coyote would come here, and he told us to beware of him.” “Nonsense,” said Coyote as he sat down by the fire. His blanket reached to the very fire into which he had pushed his stick, unobserved by the children. “Don’t be afraid of me, children! I am your cousin,” he said. His stick began to burn. “Look over there, look!” he exclaimed suddenly; but the children insisted that they had been warned against Coyote, and refused to look. He laughed at their fears, and reassured them. “Look, children, at Coyote’s house!” said he again. This time the children looked, and Coyote dashed out of the house with the burning fire-stick in his hand. Before entering the fire-house, Coyote had stationed some of his people at different points. Just as he dashed out from the house, the shaman returned, and, suspecting what had happened, he set out in pursuit of the thief. Coyote ran with the fire-stick until he reached Eagle. Eagle ran with it next, and tossed it to Buzzard. The last man to receive the fire was Turtle. He was a slow runner, and was soon in danger of being overtaken, so he hid the fire in his armpit and jumped into the river. The shaman shot him in the back; and Turtle exclaimed, “Ouch! This (arrow) will make a tail afterwards.” When Coyote came home, he inquired after the fire. Buzzard said, “We gave it to the wrong man.” “Why did you give it to Turtle?” Coyote scolded him. He was very angry. Soon Turtle appeared on the opposite bank of the river, and Coyote began to abuse him. Turtle said, “Keep still, Coyote! I have the fire,” whereupon he threw it on the ground, and a great fire started in the mountains. All people came to obtain fire, and there has been fire ever since. Afterwards Coyote made fire-sticks and instructed his people in the making and use of the fire-drill. He also it was who laid down the law, “Only men shall

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carry fire-sticks, not women. Let the women pack the wood, and we will carry the fire-sticks!”

COYOTE ARRANGES THE SEASONS OF THE YEAR Tradition Bearer: Charlie DePoe Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 228. Date: 1900 Original Source: Joshua National Origin: Native American

For cultural background on the Joshua, see the introductory notes to “The Giver Creates the World” (p. 7). The two Suns named in this tale refer to periods that correspond to January, the month of heaviest rainfall in the Northwest. Coyote demonstrates shamanic power in this myth. He speaks to the land, causing distances to shorten, and orders the ocean to dry up. He intimidates the Suns, or months, into creating a more orderly climate. Finally, he plays the role of culture hero by teaching others how to use medicinal plants and by inventing ritual dance.

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fter Coyote had come back from across the ocean, he stayed with his wife one year in the Joshua country, and built himself a sweat-house there. He was in the habit of leaving his wife frequently for the purpose of hunting and fishing. A little ways up the river he had a house for drying salmon. One day he went to the drying-house and stayed there a month. Then he went back to his wife, carrying all the dried salmon in a canoe. After his return he went out on the beach at low tide, where he found plenty of eels with red backs. This surprised him, and he concluded that spring must have come. It seemed to him that he must have missed a good many months. He could not

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The Northwest | Coyote Arranges the Seasons of the Year

understand this; so he decided to go upstream to a prairie and view the country from there. Arriving at that place, he saw that all the flowers were dry. This convinced him that he had missed all the winter months. So he went back, and said to his wife, “My wife, everything upstream is dry. It will be midsummer soon.” But the woman laughed at him. Then Coyote told her to throw all the old salmon into the river, as he did not want to mix old salmon with fresh eels. The woman refused to do so, and they quarrelled over it for a long time. She suspected that someone had been playing a trick on her husband: so she decided to hide all the food she could find, and store it away. She did not believe that fall was coming. Coyote thought that his wife had thrown all the old salmon away, as he had told her to do, and went out to gather fresh eels; but he did not see a single eel. He thought, “Well, the eels will come to-night.” He went back to his wife and told her about his failure. She paid no attention to him, but kept on eating the salmon she had saved up. At night Coyote went out again. He fished a whole night, but did not catch a single eel. In the morning he was very hungry: so he went down to the beach in the hope of finding something to eat. Again he was disappointed. Nothing had drifted ashore. In the evening he went out fishing again. He was very hungry by this time, and suspected that either the Sun or the Moon had fooled him. For nearly a month he had nothing to eat. He was so weak that he could hardly walk. And all this time his wife was eating the meat she had stored away without his knowledge. One day Coyote called all the animals and birds together, told them how the Sun had fooled him, and asked them to help him kill the Sun. Coyote was given food, which made him feel stronger. Then they started out in quest of the place where the Sun habitually comes out. They built a fort there, covered it with tips, and made a small hole through which to watch the Sun. Coyote also made a knife, and was ready to catch the Sun as soon as he should come up, and to kill him. He watched. Towards daylight the Sun appeared way off. So Coyote told his companions to take a good rest that day, after which they would go to the place whence the Sun had emerged. They started again. Coyote spoke to the land, and the distance shortened. Soon they came to the new place, and made themselves ready. Again the Sun came out, but he was so far that Coyote could hardly see him. Again he told his friends to rest.

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In the evening they started out once more. Again Coyote shortened the distance by a mere wish. They came to the new place, but the Sun was still far off. The same thing happened twenty times. At last they came to a high mountain, which the Sun could hardly make. Then Coyote was glad, and said, “Now we shall surely catch him.” So the next night they went to the new place, Coyote shortening the distance as before. Quite a number of his companions were already worn out with hunger and fatigue, and had dropped out. The new place they came to had high mountains on both sides. They made a high wall between these, and felt sure that they should catch the Sun in this place. At night they got ready. Daylight began to appear, and Coyote warned his friends to beware of any tricks that the Sun might play on them. “He may come out from the ground with his eyes shut,” he said, “so that you won’t see him until he opens his eyes on top of the mountain, and then he will be out of reach.” At last the Sun appeared at the foot of the slope on the other side of the mountain. He looked very large, and was quite a distance away. So Coyote told his friends to rest that day. He felt sure that they would catch the Sun at night. After sundown they started out, and came to a large body of water. Coyote held a council with his people, and asked them to look for a place to cross the ocean. Half he sent north, while the other half was to go south. He thought that perhaps the Sun might have his house in the water. Soon they saw lots of reeds. Coyote’s friends became discouraged and wanted to go home, but he encouraged them, saying that he had been there before. They were very tired and hungry. So Coyote advised them to eat some roots. These kept them alive; and from that time on people learned the use of roots as medicine. From the shore they saw a large fog on the other side of the ocean, which disappeared as soon as the Sun came out. Then they were sure that they were near the Sun’s lodge. At noon the Sun came up high above them; he was still very far. They did not know how to cross the ocean. So Coyote called upon the water-people to help him. Ten times he called, but no one came. Then he nearly lost his courage. He and his companions were almost starved to death. Finally Coyote said to one of his companions, “Strike me over the head twice! Something may happen.” His companion refused, fearing he might kill him. Coyote insisted, and told his friends that if he dropped senseless, they should let him lie until someone came, and then they should push him. So Coyote sat down, closed his eyes, and his companion hit him on the side of the head with a stick. A cracking sound was heard. Twice Coyote was hit before he fell to the ground lifeless.

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The Northwest | Coyote Arranges the Seasons of the Year

Then the people began to wonder how they should get home without Coyote, he had taken them so far away from home. Night came, and they heard the sound of mice squeaking around them in a circle. At first they did not wake Coyote. Three times the mice went around them before the people thought of waking Coyote. At first they called his name, then they shook him. At last Coyote stretched himself, and said, “Oh, I am sleepy!” His friends yelled at him, “Someone has come!” Then Coyote opened his eyes, squeezed his head on all sides, and it got well again. Soon the Mice began to squeak, and Coyote called to them, “My grandsons, come to me!” Then two Mice appeared. They had no tails; their ears were small, and their hair was very short. Coyote told them that he was their uncle, and that their father was a great friend of his. The Mice listened in silence. Then Coyote asked them to tell him where the house of the Sun was; but the bigger Mouse said, “If you give us what we want, we will tell you where the Sun’s house is located.” “What do you want?” asked Coyote, “dentalia shells?” The Mouse shook her head. Coyote offered them all kinds of valuables, but the Mice did not want them. The night was passing fast, and Coyote was in a hurry: so he took a salmon-net and made two tails of it. To one Mouse he gave the long tail, while the other received a short tail. He also gave them ears, and hair of different colors. At last he asked them if they were satisfied; and the Mice replied, “Yes.” Then Coyote took some fat and rubbed it on their noses, and told them that thereafter they would smell grease, even from a long distance; and this is the reason why all mice today like grease, and why they get into salmon-nets and tear them whenever they are hung up. They do this because their tails were made of salmon-nets. Then Coyote asked the Mice, “How do you cross the ocean?” and the Mice told him that they had a trail under water. He also inquired about the house of Sun and Moon, and learned that there were one hundred Suns and Moons, and that the Suns and the Moons were the same people. One person would appear as a Sun one day. Upon his return, another man would go out as Moon; then he would come back, go to sleep, and another person would go out as Sun; and so on. Coyote wanted to know if there were any sweat-houses there. “Only one,” the Mice said, “and it is very hot.” They also told him that whenever a Sun wanted to enter the sweat-house, he would first thrust his foot in, and then jump out quickly; then he would go in again and jump out. He would do this five times before remaining in the sweat-house for good. “Then,” the Mice said, “you can catch him.” Coyote also found out that the Moon’s country was dry, had no water, and that it was always hot and light there. He

23


also asked the Mice, “Which Sun fooled me last fall?” and the Mice answered, “There were two of them. Their names are Lts__c_ and Can Sun. They are very bad and make all sorts of trouble. The others are good.” Coyote wanted to know how big they were. “Very big,” the Mice said, “and very dangerous.” Then Coyote told the Mice that he and his companions would rest a whole day, and would make the attack upon the Suns and the Moons the next night. He asked the Mice to go home and to gnaw through all the bow-strings in the houses of the Suns and Moons. At last he asked them, “Did you say these houses were underwater?” “No!” replied the Mice, “they are on land.” Coyote suspected the Mice of lying, but decided to take chances. Then he asked, “How far is it from here?” “A long ways off.” The Mice were ready to start at noon. Coyote wanted to know how long the Suns stayed in the sweat-house, and if they had any dogs. “There are no dogs,” the Mice said. Then they continued, “None of the Suns urinate very much, excepting the two we mentioned before. These two leave the house often, and urinate for a long time. Whenever they do so, it rains and storms very hard. Watch these two carefully, for they are the ones who played the trick on you.” Just before the Mice departed, they agreed to warn Coyote of any lurking danger by squeaking. Then they opened the door and disappeared. Coyote called his people together and held a council. It was decided to eat the Suns and Moons as soon as they should be killed, for in that country there was no place to bury them. Then he ordered the ocean to become small and dry, and started out with his people. Soon the light began to grow very bright: they were approaching the home of the Suns and Moons. The sand was exceedingly hot. They came to the sweathouse; and Coyote hid his companions in it, while he himself knelt down inside near the door, where he could catch any one who went in, kill him, and throw him to his friends. Soon he heard the Mice squeaking, and whispered, “My children, I am here!” The Mice told him that all the Suns and Moons were in the house. So Coyote caused a heavy fog to spread over the place. The Mice said, “The people saw our new tails and furs, and wondered what it meant. They are surprised, and suspect that Coyote has done this and that he is watching them. We have eaten up all the bows and strings in the houses.” Coyote was glad. Then one Mouse went back into the house, while the other remained outside to give warning. Soon everything became quiet. After a little while Coyote heard the slow, heavy footsteps of an approaching Sun, and saw a bright light,

24

The Northwest | Coyote Frees the Salmon

accompanied by a faint hissing sound. Then a foot was thrust into the sweathouse and quickly withdrawn. Four times this process was repeated. After the fifth time a Sun put the whole body in, whereupon Coyote killed him, threw him to his people, who ate him up at once. And from that time on the birds and Coyotes have been in the habit of eating dead corpses. In this manner he killed fifty persons. After the first twenty-five had been killed, Coyote’s people became satiated and could not eat any more. So the place began to smell of blood, and the other Suns became suspicious. At last Ltsı¯ća¯ started for the sweat-house. He approached, causing a great noise and wind. Coyote trembled with excitement. Ltsı¯ća¯ urinated for a long time. As he came nearer to the sweat-house, he wondered why it was dark inside. He put his foot in, then withdrew it quickly. Coyote began to waver; he thought that perhaps he had killed enough Suns and Moons. At last Ltsı¯ća¯ came in. Coyote stabbed him, but only scratched his rump. The wounded Sun rushed into the house and gave the alarm. Coyote quickly gathered his people and told them to disperse. Then he produced a heavy fog, so that he could not be seen. The Moons woke up and seized their bows and arrows; but all were gnawed through. Thus Coyote and his friends escaped. The Mice, too, went home on their trail. They met at their first meeting-place, and Coyote danced the deathdance. Since then people have always been dancing the murder-dance. The wounded Moon had a very bad night; he was very sick. At noon Coyote looked up to the sky, and said, “Suns, if you ever fool me again, I will come back and kill you all!” The Suns did not answer. Then Coyote settled the length of the year, and divided it into twelve periods, and since then the Suns have never dared to disobey him.

COYOTE FREES THE SALMON Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Powers, Stephen. “North American Indian Legends and Fables.” Folk-Lore Record 5 (1882): 95–96. Date: ca. 1882 Original Source: Karok National Origin: Native American

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For cultural background on the Karok see “Origin of Fire” (p. 16). In the following myth, Kareya, the creator of the world, demonstrates a petty side to his nature that emerges repeatedly in Karok mythology. Coyote, however, uses the wiles of the trickster-culture hero to save humans from starvation.

W

hen Kareya made all things that have breath, he first made the fishes in the big water, then the animals, and last of all The Man. But Kareya did not yet let the fishes come up the Klamath, and thus the Karok had not enough food, and were sore a-hungered. There were salmon in the big water, many and very fine to eat, but no Indian could catch them in the big water, and Kareya had made a great fish-dam at the mouth of the Klamath,and closed it fast, and given the key to two old hags to keep, so that the salmon could not go up the river. And the hags kept the key that Kareya had given them, and watched it day and night without sleeping, so that no Indian could come near it. Then the Karok were sore disturbed in those days for lack of food, and many died, and their children cried to them because they had no meat. But the coyote befriended the Karok, and helped them, and took it on himself to bring the salmon up the Klamath. First, he went to an alder tree and gnawed off a piece of bark, for the bark of the alder tree, after it is taken off, presently turns red, and looks like salmon. He took the piece of elder bark in his teeth and journeyed far down the Klamath, until he came to the mouth of it at the big water. Then he rapped at the door of the cabin where the old hags lived, and when they opened it he said, “Ai-yu-kwoi,” for he was very polite. And they did not wonder to hear the coyote speak, for all the animals could speak in those days. They did not suspect the coyote, and so asked him to come into their cabin and sit by the fire. This he did, and after he had warmed himself awhile, he commenced nibbling his piece of alder bark. One of the hags, seeing this, said to the other, “See, he has some salmon!” So they were deceived and thrown off their guard, and presently one of them rose, took down the key, and went to get some salmon to cook for themselves. Thus the coyote saw where the key was kept, but he was not much better off than before, for it was too high for him to reach it. The hags cooked some salmon for supper and ate it, but they gave the coyote none. So he stayed in the cabin all night with the hags, pretending to sleep, but he was thinking how to get the key. He could think of no plan at all, but in the

26

The Northwest | The Origin of the Seasons and of the Mountains

morning one of the hags took down the key, and started to get some salmon again, and then the coyote happened to think of a way as quick as a flash. He jumped up and darted under the hag, which threw her down, and caused her to fling the key a long way off. The coyote quickly seized it with his teeth, and ran and opened the fish-dam before the hags could catch him. Thus the salmon were allowed to go up the Klamath, and the Karok had plenty of food.

THE ORIGIN OF THE SEASONS AND OF THE MOUNTAINS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’¯aút I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 260–61. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’¯aút National Origin: Native American

The Ts’ets’¯aút were a Northwestern Athabascan group. Although they were given this name by their Native American neighbors, the Ts’ets’¯aút were identified as belonging to the Tinneh stock by folklorist Franz Boas. By the time he was able to make contact with the group, they were reduced to about a dozen members. They had originally been organized as bands of nomadic hunters and gatherers, but their culture had been profoundly influenced by the neighboring, more sedentary Tlingit by the time of Boas fieldwork. This myth, Boas notes, bears many similarities to Tlingit narrative.

I

n the beginning there were no mountains. The earth was level, and covered with grass and shrubs. There was no rain, no snow, and no wind. The sun was shining all the time. Men and animals were not distinct yet. They were in dire distress. They had little to eat, and nothing to drink. Once upon a time a man made a bow for his son, who was asleep. When the child awoke it cried for thirst, but his father was unable to give him any water. He offered his son grease to drink, but he refused it. Then the father gave him the bow in order to quiet him, but the boy continued to cry.

27


Now the father took the bow, and shot the arrow into a small mound of dirt that was next to the fire. When the arrow entered it a spring of water came forth, and the boy drank. From it sprang all the rivers of the world. But there was no rain and no snow. The animals held a council, and considered how to procure them. They resolved to go to the end of the world, to make a hole through the sky, and to climb up through it. They did so. When they reached the end of the world all the animals tried to tear the sky, but they were unable to do so. All had tried except two ermines. One of them jumped up, struck the sky, and tore it. The other ran through the hole, and then all the animals helped to enlarge it. They climbed up through it, but when all had passed the hole closed again. They were on a large, beautiful prairie, and walked on. After they had gone some time, they saw a lodge in the far distance. They reached it and entered. There were many bags in the house. One contained the rain, another one the snow, a third one the fog, and still others the gales and the four winds. The men sat down and debated what to do. Only a woman was in the house. Her name was Goose Woman. They said to her, “It is dry and hot on earth. We have nothing to eat, and nothing to drink. Give us what we need, for you are keeping it in your house.” The goose woman replied, “All that you need is in these bags: rain and snow, the winds, the gale, and the fog. If you tear them, it will be winter. The North wind will blow. It will be cold, and the ground will be covered with snow. Then the snow will melt, the West wind will blow, and trees and shrubs will bloom and bear fruit. Then another season of snows and cold will follow.” Now the people tore the bags, and it happened as the woman had predicted. Clouds began to gather, and snow was falling. At the same time the level ground changed its form, and mountains arose. Then the animals went back. Again the ermine tore the sky, and all went down. Then the animals ran into the woods and separated from man.

THE ORIGIN OF DEATH Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 209. Date: 1900

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The Northwest | The Xudele

Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

Shasta culture is described in the introductory notes to “The Theft of Fire” (p. 18). Coyote learns compassion only after falling victim to his own “wisdom.” This signifies a worldview quite different from the one posited by “Man’s Fall” and “Original Sin” of Judaeo-Christian tradition. In this case, Coyote, not human a flaw, is to blame for bringing death into the universe.

L

ong, long ago Coyote was considered the wisest being to whom all people were wont to go for advice and help in times of distress. Coyote was living with Spider. Each of them had a boy. One day Spider’s child died. So he went to Coyote, saying, “My child died. I should like to have my child come back to life. What do you think of it?” But Coyote replied, “I don’t think it will be right; for, if all dead people should come back, there would be too many spirits in the world, and then there would hardly be room for us living people.” Spider went home saying nothing. After a while Coyote’s child died; and he went at once to Spider, addressing him thus: “Friend, you were right a little while ago. My child is dead now, and I am willing to agree that both our boys should come back to life.” But Spider answered, “No, this cannot be done. My child is all spoiled now. It is too late.” Coyote tried to induce Spider to change his mind, but Spider remained inexorable.

THE XUDELE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’¯aút II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 35–48. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’¯ aút National Origin: Native American

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Folklorist Franz Boas writes the following concerning this myth, “I do not know of any Athapaskan legend resembling the present in detail, but in the collection of [Algonquin] traditions published by Petitot beings half dog and half man play a very important part. They are described as having the faculty of taking the scent of man in the same manner as the Xudele. Similar tales may be found among all the Eskimo tribes, who call the fabulous inlanders, who are half dog, half men, Adla or Eqigdlit.” Ts’ets’¯a út culture is described in the introductory notes to “The Origin of the Seasons and of the Mountains” (p. 27). The function of the following legend may serve not only to explain the nature of martens, but also to warn against the potential dangers of traveling alone in the severe climate of the far Northwest.

T

he Xudele are cannibals. They are very lean. Their noses are turned up and their eyebrows run upward. Their faces look almost like those of dogs. They wear small axes in their belts, with which they kill men. They take the scent of men like dogs. One day the Xudele had gone hunting man. They found the tracks of a hunter who was on the mountains. He saw them coming, and tried to escape. When he came near a snow-field that terminated abruptly at a precipice, he cut steps into it and climbed down. Half way down he found a small rock shelter, where he stayed. He resolved to make an attempt to kill his pursuers by a ruse. He built a fire and roasted a porcupine that he had caught. The Xudele saw the smoke and smelled the roasting meat. When they came to the snow-field it had grown dark. They shouted down: “Where are you? Let us have some of your meat!” The man shouted back: “You must slide down this snow-field, then you will find me. I invite you to take part in my meal!” Then the Xudele began to slide down the snow-field one after the other, and were precipitated into the abyss. Finally only one of their number was left. He did not dare to slide down, and shouted, “Where are all my friends?” The man replied, “They are all here.” But the Xudele could not be induced to slide down. He cut steps into the snow, and climbed down as the man had done. Finally he reached the man. When he did not see his friends, he asked what had become of them, and the man told him that they had all perished because they had slid past his shelter.

30

The Northwest | The Xudele

Now the Xudele, who did not dare to attack the man single-handed, offered to gamble with him, and said they would stake their lives. The man refused. He had employed the time while the Xudele were sliding down the snow-field to make a heavy club, which he had placed near his fire. While he was talking with the Xudele he watched his opportunity, and slew him with his club. Then he returned to his village and told what had happened. The people were afraid that the friends of the Xudele might come to look for them, and moved to another place. At another time a man had gone out hunting. It was in summer. He discovered a vast number of Xudele coming right up to him, so that he could not escape. There happened to be a swamp close to the trail, which he was following. He jumped into the mud and lay down, keeping motionless. He looked just like a log. He extended his arms, so that they looked like limbs of a tree. The Xudele came, and one after the other passed him without noticing him. Finally, one of their number noticed the resemblance of the supposed log to a human figure. He raised his axe, and was about to strike him. But since the man did not wince, he concluded that it was nothing but a log and passed on. When all had passed, the man jumped up and ran on the nearest way to his village. There he told the chief that the Xudele were coming. He called a council, and they resolved what to do. They killed a number of dogs and cut them up, skin and bone and intestines. Then they pounded flint to dust, mixed it with the meat, and made a soup of it. When the Xudele came, they invited them to the chief’s house and set the soup before them. Before they began eating, a little boy happened to walk past a Xudele, who seized him, tore out his arms and legs, and ate him. The people did not dare to remonstrate. Now the Xudele began to eat. Soon the effects of the poison—the pounded stone—began to be felt. They acted as though they were drunk, and some of them fell dead. Then the men took up their clubs and killed them one and all. The Xudele put up traps for catching men on the trails, which they travel on their snowshoes. They cover a stick with moss and snow, which is so arranged that it catches in the snowshoe of the traveler. A few feet in front of this stick is another, sharp-pointed stick, put into the ground point upward. When the snowshoes catch in the first stick, the traveler falls forward on to the pointed stick, which pierces him. One day a hunter was passing over a trail. He saw a small irregularity of the snow, and discovered that it was the trap of a Xudele. He intended to go on, when he saw the Xudele to whom the trap belonged. As he was unable to make

31


his escape, he tried a stratagem. He struck his nose so that it bled and smeared his chest with blood. Then he lay down on the pointed stick of the trap. The Xudele approached, and when he saw the man, he smiled and said: “Again my trap has caught something for me.” He took the man off the stick, put him into his bag, and, after having reset his trap, turned to go home. The man was very heavy, and he had to put down his load from time to time. Then the man blew the air out of his compressed lips, thus imitating the noise of escaping gases. The Xudele said,” He must have been in my trap for a long time, for the body is decomposing already; the gases are escaping.” When he arrived at home he threw the body down near the fireplace. The man glanced around furtively, and, saw stores of dried human flesh in the house. There was a black woman in the house, and three children were playing near the fire. The Xudele went to fetch his knife in order to skin and carve the man, and he sent his wife for water. The man saw an axe lying near the fire, and when the Xudele turned his back he jumped up, seized it, and split the head of his captor. The Xudele cried: “Sxinadle, asidle,” and died. (It is said that the Xudele always utter this cry, which is unintelligible to the humans, at the time of their death.) When the children saw their father dying they ran out of the house, assumed the shape of martens, and ran up a tree. The man threw the body of the Xudele into the fire. Then he went out of the hut to kill the woman, whom he met carrying a basket of water. He split her stomach with his axe. Then two minks jumped out of her and ran into the water. She died and he burnt her body. When he returned to his country he told what he had seen. Therefore we know that the martens and minks descend from the Xudele.

ORIGIN OF THE ADLET AND THE WHITEMAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Rink, H., and Franz Boas. “Eskimo Tales and Songs.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 125. Date: 1889 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

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The Northwest | Origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman

It is erroneous to think of the Eskimo habitat as barren land. As their north-south range is great, there is variation in topography, landform, climate, vegetation, and fish and game availability. The arctic is a desert in truest sense of the world. The cold reduces the amount of moisture in the air so that some areas receive as little as four inches of precipitation a year, making it a difficult task to obtain fresh water. Summers are short and defined by the temperature being above freezing. When streams begin to flow, water travel becomes possible; however, walking becomes virtually impossible over the swampy tundra because of the melting surfaces. At the onset of winter and freezing temperatures, the people begin to settle down. Nuclear families are often organized into bands. Determinates for band leadership may include family allegiance, personality traits, or physical strength. An episode in the following myth of the origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman recalls a central figure in Eskimo myth, the female sea spirit with various names: Takanakapsaluk, Nuliajuk, and Sedna, for example. In myths she is a terrifying presence living in a house at the bottom of the sea. In these myths the shamans often travel on spirit journeys to confront her and her entourage of monsters in times of famine or danger in order to win her help for the people. For example, they ask her to provide seals and other sea mammals, which were believed to grow from the severed parts of her own body. Compare the following narrative to “The Xudele” (p. 29).

S

aviqong (i.e., the knifeman), an old man, lived alone with his daughter. Her name was Niviarsiang (i.e., the girl), but as she did not want to take a husband she was also called Uinigumissuitung (i.e., she who did not want to take a husband). She refused all her suitors, but at last a dog, spotted white and red, whose name was Ijiqang (i.e., the powerful eye), won her affection and she married him. They had ten children, five of whom were Adlet and five dogs. The legs of the Adlet were like those of dogs, and hairy all over, the soles excepted, while the upper part of their bodies was human. When the children grew up they became very voracious, and as the dog Ijiqang did not go hunting at all, but let his father-in-law provide for the whole family, Saviqong found great difficulty in feeding them. Moreover, the children were very clamorous

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and noisy; so at last their grandfather, being tired of their manifold demands and the trouble they gave him, put the whole family into his boat and carried them to a small island. He told Ijiqang to come every day and fetch meat. Niviarsiang hung a pair of boots on his neck and he swam across the narrow channel separating the island from the mainland. But Saviqong, instead of giving him meat, filled the boots with heavy stones, which drowned Ijiqang when he attempted to return to the island. Niviarsiang thought of revenging the death of her husband. She sent the young dogs to her father’s hut and let them gnaw off his feet and hands. In return, Saviqong, when his daughter happened to be in his boat, threw her overboard, and cut off her fingers when she clung to the gunwale. As they fell into the sea they were transformed into seals and whales. At last he allowed her to climb again into the boat. As she feared that her father might think of killing or maiming her children, she ordered the Adlet to go inland, where they became the ancestors of a numerous people. She made a boat for the young dogs, setting up two sticks for masts in the sole of one of her boots, and sent the puppies across the ocean. She sang: “Angnaijaja. When you will have arrived on the other side, you will make many little things. Angnaija.”

THE ORIGIN OF THE NARWHAL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 169–70. Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

The Arctic can be a land of meager resources. The neglect and even abandonment of those who are not able to contribute to community survival was a matter of course in the traditional culture. The cannibalistic Adlet appear in this tale (see “Origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman,” p. 32 as one of the trials the siblings must endure in their

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The Northwest | The Origin of the Narwhal

quest for community. This tale is widely distributed not only among the Eskimo, but also among Athabascans and the Bella Bella of the Northwest Coast.

T

here was a blind boy (or young man) who lived with his mother and sister. They went to a place where there was no one and lived alone. One day, when they were in their tent, a bear came up to it. Though the boy was blind he had a bow, and the woman aimed it at the bear for him. The arrow struck the bear and killed it. The mother, however, deceived her son and told him he had missed it. She cut it up and then cooked it. The young man now smelled the bear-meat, and asked his mother whether it was not bear he was smelling. She, however, told him he was mistaken. Then she and her daughter ate it, but she would give him nothing. His sister, however, put half her food in her dress secretly, to give him later. When her mother asked her why she was eating so much (noticing that she seemed to eat an unusual quantity), the girl answered that she was hungry. Later, when her mother was away, she gave the meat to her brother. In this way he discovered that his mother had deceived him. Then he wished for another chance to kill something, when he might not be thus deceived by his mother. One day, when he was out of doors, a large loon came down to him and told him to sit on its head. The loon then flew with him toward its nest, and finally brought him to it, on a large cliff. After they had reached this, it began to fly again, and took him to a pond]. The loon then dived with him, in order to make him recover his eyesight. It would dive and ask him whether he was smothering; when he answered that he was, it took him above the surface to regain his breath. Thus they dived, until the blind boy could see again. His eyesight was now very strong; he could see as far as the loon, and could even see where his mother was, and what she was doing. Then he returned. When he came back, his mother was afraid, and tried to excuse herself, and treated him with much consideration. One day he went narwhal-hunting, using his mother to hold the line. “Spear a small narwhal,” his mother said, for she feared a large one would drag her into the water by the line fastened around her. He speared a small one, and she pulled it ashore. Then they ate its blubber. The next time two appeared together, a small white whale and a large narwhal. “Spear the small one again,” she told him. But he speared the large one,

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and when it began to pull, he let go the line, so that his mother was dragged along, and forced to run, and pulled into the water. “My knife,” she cried, in order to cut the rope. She kept calling for her knife, but he did not throw it to her, and she was drawn away and drowned. She became a narwhal herself, her hair, which she wore twisted to a point, becoming the tusk. After this, the man who had recovered his sight, and his sister, went away. Finally they came to a house. The brother was thirsty, and wanted water. He asked his sister for some, telling her to go to the house for it. She went up to it, but was at first afraid to go in. “Come in, come in!” cried the people inside, who were murderous Adlet. When she entered, they seized her and ate her. She had stayed away a long time, and finally her brother went to look for her. He entered the house, but could not find her. An old man there, after having eaten of her, tried to say he did not have her, and did not know where she was. The brother, however, kept stabbing the inmates of the house with a tusk he had, trying to make them confess, but vainly, and finally killed them. Then her brother put her bones together and went away, carrying them on his back. Then the flesh grew on the bones again, and soon she spoke, “Let me get up!” But he said to her,” Don’t get up!” At last she got up, however. Then they saw a great many people, and soon reached them. By this time his sister had quite recovered; she ate, and went into a house. She married there, and soon had a child. Her brother also married.

THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED A DOG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 168–69. Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

This Eskimo myth differs from the well-known father-daughter type (see “The Origin of the Adlet and the Whiteman,” for example), in that

36

The Northwest | The Woman Who Married a Dog

the girl character’s father does not die. The father’s insistence on his daughter’s marrying in this and other narratives is due to the fact that the Eskimo subsistence in their harsh environment was based largely on the hunt, and an extra hunter in the band made starvation less likely. The fear caused by attempting to cope with their severe environment also fostered beliefs not only in the beings cited in this myth, but mermen, giant worms, ten-legged polar bears, and other monsters. Folklorist A. L. Kroeber notes that he could not determine what nakassungnaitut were.

N

ear the head the bay on Inglefield Gulf lived a man and his daughter. The girl, however, refused to marry any one. Finally, when she refused suitor after suitor, her father grew angry and threatened to make her marry a dog. She warned him that if he said this often she might take him at his word. Indeed, one of the dogs just then broke his line and came into the house. She soon married him. When she grew pregnant, her father and the other people drove her away, and the dog carried her across the water to an island, named Qemiunaarving, off the mouth of the bay. The dog used to bring her food from her father, floating it over by means of a skin of a ground-seal, which was prepared like an ordinary seal-skin float. One day, the father, desiring to kill him, filled the skin with stones and tied it to him, hoping thus to drown him. But the dog was so strong that he kept on swimming in spite of the stones (which would have drawn down any other being), and finally, although he almost sank, reached the island in safety. The woman gave birth to a great many children, both persons and dogs. When they were somewhat older, she one day ordered them to kill their father, the dog, which they did, devouring him. Then she called her children in pairs, a male and a female together. “You two be qablunat (Europeans), and go away from here, and dress in clean clothes, and do not inspire fear. “You two be nakassungnaitut, and be savage, and also go away,” she said to the next two. “You two be wolves,” she went on to another pair, “do not pursue people nor frighten dogs, and go away. “And you two be tornit [giants]” she said, “and go away from here; but you shall have no dogs, and shall fear them, but you shall not make people afraid. “And you be inugaudligat [dwarves],” she added to the last pair. Thus she sent them all away. The qablunat sailed away in the sole of a boot. And then she went back to live with her father.

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RECOVERING THE SUN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Notes on the Eskimo of Port Clarence, Alaska.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 205–6. Date: ca. 1894 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

Many Eskimo live in an environment where the land is mostly tundra and remains permanently frozen except for a few inches of surface, which thaw during the brief summers. Also characteristic of the northernmost areas are the nights of deep winter when twilight occurs at noon. A myth such as the following gives voice to the anxiety that this lack of light can generate. In the course of the search for the sun, the party in the myth covers a territory filled with monsters and approaches the edge of a world that Eskimo tradition maintained was flat and balanced on wooden pillars. The party succeeds because of a motif that has appeared in other Eskimo narratives: a young woman defies a parent.

O

nce upon a time the people were assembled in a singing house. While they were dancing the sun disappeared, and nobody knew what had become of it. The people were unable to go hunting, and soon all their provisions were exhausted. Then they told the women to mend their clothing carefully, and to make as many boots as possible. These they put into bags and set out in search of the sun. It was dark all the time. They followed the seacoast, and went so long that they wore out their boots. Then they took new ones from their traveling-bags. After many days they came to a country that swarmed with seals, walrus, and deer. There they found a people whose language they did not understand. After some time, however, they learned to converse with them. They asked these people if they had seen the sun. The latter replied that they would come to five places. At the fifth place there lived a woman who had both the sun and the moon in her house. Then

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The Northwest | Recovering the Sun

they went on. It was very cold, and they ran as fast as they could in order to keep warm. When their provisions began to run short, they reached another country that swarmed with game. They found a people whose language they did not understand, but after some time they were able to converse with each other. There they obtained the same information as before, and went on. It was very cold, and they ran as fast as they could, in order to keep warm. When their provisions began to run short, they reached a third country that swarmed with game. They met a people whose language they did not understand. After some time they were able to converse, and upon their inquiries they were told that at the second place that they would reach there lived a woman named Itudlu’gpiaq, who had both sun and moon, but that it was very doubtful if they would be able to obtain it. Then they went on. It was very cold, and they ran as fast as they could, in order to keep warm. When their provisions began to run low, they reached a country that swarmed with game. There they found dwarfs, who tried to escape when they saw the strong men coming. They caught them, however, and learned that at the next place they would find the house of Itudlu’qpiaq, who had both sun and moon. They went on. On their way they found ice and driftwood obstructing their way, but they kicked it aside. At that time the people were very strong and able to lift heavy stones. After they had gone a long time they saw a singing house. When they came near, they went very slowly, because they were afraid. At last one of the men tied his jacket around his waist and tied his pants around his knees. Then he crept cautiously through the entrance and put his head through the door in the bottom of the floor. He saw a young woman, Itudlu’gpiaq, sitting in the middle of the rear of the house. Her father was sitting in the middle of the right-hand side of the house, her mother in the middle of the left-hand side. In each of the rear corners a ball was hanging from the roof. At the right-hand side was a large ball, and at the left-hand side a smaller one. Then he whispered: “Itudlu’gpiaq, we came to ask you for some light.” Then her mother said: “Give them the small ball.” The man, however, refused and asked for the large ball. Then Itudlu’qpiaq took it down and gave it a kick. It fell right into the entrance hole. The people took it and ran outside. Then they tore the ball to pieces and the daylight came out of it. It was not warm at once, but it grew warmer day after day. If they had taken the small ball it would have been light, but it would have remained cold.

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BROTHER AND SISTER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’¯ aút I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 257–68. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’¯ aút National Origin: Native American

Franz Boas notes that the following myth is related to two Tlingit traditions: the origin of earthquakes (a narrative that contains the motif of an incestuous brother and sister) and the story of Raven, the Northwest Coast trickster/culture hero. During the course of the tale, the brother’s power increases from human to superhuman. His final transformation is into Raven. In this incarnation he took on the ability to control forces of nature.

O

nce upon a time there were four brothers and a sister whose parents had died. One day they went up Tcu’nax River until they reached its headwaters, which are called xaga. There they stayed hunting the mountain goat. The eldest of the brothers had fallen in love with his sister, who returned his affection. Then the other brothers grew ashamed. They tied the two together with cedar-withes, so that the man’s head was between the feet of the woman, while her head was between the man’s feet, and thus left them. The eldest brother, however, was so strong that he tore apart his bonds, and liberated himself and his sister. He found a cave, which they used as a dwelling-place. After some time his sister gave birth to a boy. One day, when she left the house, she saw many mountain goats grazing on the hill opposite. She ran back into the cave, and called her brother, “Come and look at the mountain goats.” He went out and looked at them. On this, they fell dead and rolled down the mountain towards the cave. He had attained supernatural powers. His gaze killed whomever and whatever he looked at. Then he said to his wife: “Go and gather stones, with which to skin the goats.”

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The Northwest | Brother and Sister

She went down to the river, and gathered many thin pebbles. When she had brought them to the cave, her husband was not satisfied with them. He himself went to the river, and found many new stone knives and axes. These he carried to the cave, and he and his wife began to skin the goats. But they did not cut open their bellies and strip off the skin, as it is the custom to do; they cut the feet, and skinned them as we do martens. In this manner he skinned one buck, a she goat, and a kid, and father, mother, and son put on their skins. Then the father said, “Now I will go down the river and build houses for our use.” He started, and after he had gone some distance he made a natural bridge across the river, and many caves in the sides of the mountains. Then he said to his wife: “Now I will make the sea. The ocean shall be in the west, the land shall be in the east.” Thus the sea was created. And he continued: “I will make a hole, so that the water of the sea may run down through it and come back again. Then there will be ebb-tide and flood-tide.” But his wife asked him, “Do not make the hole here, for men are living nearby, and the hole might swallow them. Make it far away in mid-ocean.” Henceforth they lived under the bridge. One day many Ts’ets’__ut went up the river to see what had become of the brother and sister who had been left. Among the travelers were the brothers of the couple. When they approached the headwaters of the river, they saw the natural bridge, and the caves, which they had not seen before. The kid was frolicking under the bridge, and every one of its steps made a deep impression in the rock. It was scared when it saw the people and jumped back into the cave in which it was living. The people saw a glaring light coming forth from the cave. Then the mother came out, to see what had frightened the kid. She saw the people sitting on their knees, and wondering at the marvelous changes that had taken place on the river. She went back and told her husband what she had seen. He said: “If among these people are our brothers who bound us. Let us kill them!” His wife did not reply. Then he stepped out of the cave, and when he looked at the people they all died. One woman only had hidden herself. She was saved. The natural bridge where these events took place is called Tseneniaga. Then the husband and his wife separated. She went up the river. When she arrived at its source, she made a rock resembling her in shape. It may be seen up to this day. It looks like a woman carrying a babe on her back. She went on to the headwaters of Nass River, where she continues to live on the bank of a lake up to this day. The man went down the river, and wherever he camped he made rocks of curious shape as marks of his presence. Now his name was Qa, the raven. The

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Tlingit call him YeL. Among others he made two rocks, which look like men with arms. One of these has fallen over, while the other one is still standing. Its name is SdgL (the same in Tlingit). He wandered all through the world. Finally he traveled westward. At that time the sea was always high. In the middle of the world he discovered a rock in the sea. He built a house under the rock, made a hole through the earth, and a lid that fitted it. He put a man in charge of the hole; he opened the lid twice a day and twice a day closed it. When the hole is open, the water rushes down through it into the depth, and it is ebb; when the lid is put on, the water rises again, and it is flood. Ta’eL, a Tlingit chief, when hunting sea otters, was taken out to the rock by the tide. The current was so strong that there was no possibility of escape. When he was drawn towards the rock, he saw a few small trees growing on it. He managed to throw his canoe-line over one of the trees and thus succeeded in escaping from the whirlpool. After some time he heard a noise that was produced by the closing of the hole. Then the water began to rise, and he paddled away as fast as he could. Before the ebb began, he pulled his canoe on to a rock, and when the flood set in again continued his homeward journey. Finally he reached his home in safety.

THE SAD WOMAN Tradition Bearer: Mrs. C. A. Anderson Source: Golder, F. A. “Aleutian Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 215 Date: 1905 Original Source: Aleutian National Origin: Native American

The Aleutians call themselves Unangan, which means “the people.” Their native habitat was the Aleutian Islands, which trail off to the southwest from Alaska. Related to the Eskimo, they subsisted on hunting sea mammals and fishing. Atka and Attu are two of the furthest west and most isolated islands in the Aleutian Chain.

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The Northwest | The First Ship Seen by the Clatsop

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any, many years ago the people of Atka and Attu were continually at war with each other, frequently surprising each other with fatal results. At this particular time, the Atka warriors gathered a large fleet of bidarkas [Aleutian kayaks], and one dark night fell on the Attu inhabitants, of whom but three escaped, two boys and a woman. The boys were soon discovered in the cave where they were hid and killed, but the woman was not found. After the victors had departed, the woman came out, and was painfully surprised to know that she was the only human being on the island. For seven years she lived in this solitary state, and during all this time neither smiled nor laughed. She lived mostly on sea-lions and sea-otters, which she killed with clubs while they were on the rocks. In the eighth year her sadness came to an end in the following manner. She had as companions a young duck and sea-gull whom she had befriended; one day, as she was fishing along the beach, these two birds began to fight, which so amused her that she laughed out. Not long after, some suitable driftwood came ashore, and she set about building a new home. While busily engaged with her stone hatchet in trimming a log, she thought she heard a noise behind her, and on looking around saw a man. This so frightened her that she cut off one of her fingers. A little later some more Atka people came over and settled in Attu, and they are the ancestors of the present inhabitants of that island.

THE FIRST SHIP SEEN BY THE CLATSOP Tradition Bearer: Charles Cultee Source: Boas, Franz. Pages 277–78 in Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. Date: 1890–1891 Original Source: Chinook National Origin: Native American

This legend comes from the Clatsop, the people that historically inhabited the northwestern tip of modern Oregon. When encountered by the Lewis and Clark Expedition in 1805, the Clatsop were reported to number about four hundred persons in villages along the Columbia River.

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They subsisted on fishing and hunting. By the time Franz Boas recorded the following narrative, only two Clatsop speakers survived.

T

he son of an old woman had died. She wailed for him a whole year and then she stopped. Now one day she went to Seaside. There she used to stop, and she returned. She returned walking along the beach. She nearly reached Clatsop; now she saw something. She thought it was a whale. When she came near it she saw two spruce trees standing upright on it. She thought, “Behold! It is no whale. It is a monster.” She reached the thing that lay there. Now she saw that its outer side was all covered with copper. Ropes were tied to those spruce trees and it was full of iron. Then a bear came out of it. He stood on the thing that lay there. He looked just like a bear, but his face was that of a human being. Then she went home. Now she thought of her son, and cried, saying, “Oh, my son is dead and the thing about which we heard in tales is on shore.” When she nearly reached the town she continued to cry. The people said, “Oh, a person comes crying. Perhaps somebody struck her.” The people made themselves ready. They took their arrows. An old man said, “Listen!” Then the people listened. Now she said all the time, “Oh, my son is dead, and the thing about which we heard in tales is on shore.” The people said, “What may it be?” They went running to meet her. They said, “What is it?” “Ah, something lies there and it is thus. There are two bears on it, or maybe they are people.” Then the people ran. They reached the thing that lay there. Now the people, or what else they might be, held two copper kettles in their hands. Now the first one reached there. Another one arrived. Now the person’s took their hands to their mouths and gave the people their kettles. They had lids. The men pointed inland and asked for water. Then two people ran inland. They hid themselves behind a log. They returned again and ran to the beach. One man climbed up and entered the thing. He went down into the ship. He looked about in the interior of the ship; it was full of boxes. He found brass buttons in strings half a fathom long. He went out again to call his relatives, but they had already set fire to the ship. He jumped down. Those two persons had also gone down. It burnt just like fat. Then the Clatsop gathered the iron, the copper, and the brass. Then all the people learned about it. The two persons were taken to the chief of the Clatsop.

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The Northwest | How the Lee Family Came to Oregon

Then the chief of the one town said, “I want to keep one of the men with me.” The people almost began to fight. Now one of them was taken to one town. Then the chief was satisfied. Now the Quenaiult, the Chehalis, the Cascades, the Cowlitz, and the Klickatat learned about it and they all went to Clatsop. The Quenaiult, the Chehalis, and the Willapa went. The people of all the towns went there. The Cascades, the Cowlitz, and the Klickatat came down the river. All those of the upper part of the river came down to Clatsop. Strips of copper two fingers wide and going around the arm were exchanged for one slave each. A piece of iron as long as one-half the forearm was exchanged for one slave. A piece of brass two fingers wide was exchanged for one slave. A nail was sold for a good curried deerskin. Several nails were given for long dentalia. The people bought this and the Clatsop became rich. Then iron and brass were seen for the first time. Now they kept these two persons. One was kept by each chief; one was at the Clatsop town at the cape.

HOW THE LEE FAMILY CAME TO OREGON Tradition Bearer: Jane Lee Smith Source: Wrenn, Sarah B. “Interview of Jane Lee Smith.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1939 Original Source: Oregon National Origin: Anglo American

The westward migration of the Lees is revealed in part through legends recounted to tradition bearer Jane Lee Smith and in part through personal experience narratives. The following combination of the two genres is typical of the ways in which family sagas are preserved in oral tradition.

M

y father and mother crossed the plains in 1847, with the usual experiences attending that long trip. Something unusual that happened was the thunder storm they encountered shortly after crossing the Platte

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river. Father and mother were walking, it seemed, when this terrible thunderstorm came up. Suddenly there was a tremendous flash of lightning, followed by a roar of thunder. Father and mother were both thrown on to their knees. In the wagon in front of theirs two little children were in the rear of the wagon box; they had been leaning out and playing with the horns of the oxen trudging along behind. One of the children was found to be stunned, but not otherwise hurt; the other one was killed. Among father’s oxen was an old animal they called Brindy—for Brindle I guess. Once on the plains Brindy was found to have an arrow in his flank. It was supposed an Indian had shot it, but nobody knew just when it happened. Anyway, after that, Brindy had it in for redskins. Every time one came near, Brindy would snort like all get out, so they always knew when Indians were lurking around. We had Brindy for many years. After I was born and big enough to go berrying we children were down in the pasture, picking strawberries. Brindy and the other cattle—father had quite a bunch of Durham cattle by then—were not far away quietly munching grass, when all at once we heard Brindy snorting. Woughf! Woughf! he went, and there those cattle were, all lined up for battle, with old Brindy out in front, pawing the ground and snorting like mad. We couldn’t imagine what was the matter, and then we saw two squaws, creeping through the brush and out of sight as fast as they could go. Old Brindy wasn’t going to let any “Injuns” have the strawberries of his folks. What did we wear in those days? I guess we wore just about all there was to be found to wear, kitchen stove an’ everything. It was worse ’n the hats the women wear now. Hoops and petticoats, an’ corset covers an’ corsets—great big heavy stiff things—I don’ know how we managed so many clothes. There was a fleshy lady living down on the Luckiamute that got caught in a hole in the river on her pony. The Luckiamute was always a mighty treacherous stream. Every time there was a freshet the current would change, so one never knew just where to ford the stream. This lady was with a party and they were all horseback. She was on a little pony, and she was kinda big and fat. The pony stepped in a hole, and with her weight on it, it couldn’t get out. The lady had hoops on, and when the men went to help her, her hoops caught on the curved under horn of the side saddle. They tried to get the hoops out and in doing so twisted them, and there she was. The pony couldn’t budge and they couldn’t get her off, and the pony couldn’t get out of the hole as long as she was on its back, she was so heavy. Finally they gave a big tug at the hoops and got ’em loose, an’ then they managed to lift her up and hold her till the pony struggled out, an’ then they dropped her in the saddle and she rode the pony on across—an’ was she “red in the face.”

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The Northwest | The Blue Bucket Mine

THE BLUE BUCKET MINE Tradition Bearer: William Harry Hembree Source: Sherbert, Andrew C. “Interview of William Harry Hembree.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Oregon National Origin: European American

The very skillful narrator includes a number of validating devices designed to encourage acceptance of his story, such as his experience in the mining profession, his long residence in the area, and his use of the names of participants in the events. The following narrative would be best classified as a personal legend that concludes with a personal experience narrative. Such hybrid genres are common in oral tradition.

I

was born in Monmouth, Polk County, Oregon, October 7, 1864, and was christened William Harry Hembree. My father’s name was Houston Hembree. He was named for the illustrious Sam Houston and was born in Texas, though his family later moved to Missouri. My mother’s name was Amanda Bowman and she was born in Iowa, coming to Oregon in 1848. My father left Missouri for Oregon in one of the first emigrant trains of the great migration of the 1840’s arriving in the Willamette Valley sometime in 1843. The train that my father came to Oregon with is said to have been the first “wheels” ever to make the entire journey from the east to the Dalles Mountains. The wagon train of which my father and his kinfolks were members was more fortunate than the parties which followed the old Oregon Trail in the years immediately after. The Indians did not trouble the earlier emigrants, were friendly in fact, according to accounts given me by my father. It was not until the later emigrants came through that the Indians began to attack travelers— in 1844, 1845, and thereafter. Father’s train arrived at The Dalles with exactly the same number of members as it had when it left Missouri.

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In between other activities, even as a young man I was interested in gold mining. I have prospected in the past 50 years in almost every section of Oregon where gold had been, or appeared that it might be, found. I have panned every river and creek in the state where I thought there was a remote possibility of making worthwhile findings. In recent years I have operated small mines with more or less success. I am at present beginning the operation of a mine in Clackamas County, near the Marion County line. The sample essay looks good, and in spite of many former disappointments in similar enterprises, I have every hope that this one will turn out prosperously. However, if it doesn’t, I shall promptly find another likely-looking hole-in-the-ground, and with a true prospector’s unquenchable optimism, my hopes will doubtless rise again. Perhaps the most widely publicized Oregon gold mine, if there ever was such a mine, is the famous “Blue Bucket.” I have been erroneously credited with knowing a great deal about this mysterious, lost mine. As a matter of fact, in common with many other persons, I have been tremendously interested in the historic Blue Bucket; have gathered a considerable amount of data concerning it; and have journeyed to the region where it was supposed to have been located. I might even go so far as to say that I am satisfied in my own mind that I have been to within a few furlongs of the actual spot where it was. However, until the elusive Blue Bucket is actually and indisputably rediscovered, one man’s story is as good as another’s. Here’s mine: The Blue Bucket mine got its name from the fact that a wagon train, which is supposed to have stumbled onto the rich gold deposit, was made up of a string of wagons, the bodies of which were painted blue. In those days wagons had no hub nuts to hold a wheel in place on the axle. Wheels were held on the axle by what was called a linchpin, which was merely a pin, or bolt, that slipped through a hole in the axle outside the hub of the wheel. Between the hub and pin was a washer, which rubbed on the hub. To prevent wear, it was necessary to constantly daub the axle, at the point of friction, with tar, which the immigrants carried in buckets that hung on a hook at the rear of the wagon. The tar buckets of this particular wagon train were also painted blue. The train made a “dry camp” (no water in sight) one night on a meadow in a valley between two ridges of hills. Needing water for their horses, members of the train set out on foot, each in a different direction, to attempt to locate a small creek or pond nearby. Each carried one of the blue tar buckets, in which to carry water if any were found. One member came upon a wet, cozy spot, where it appeared water was near the surface of the ground. He dug down, using the bucket as a spade, and upon raising the bucket found it filled with wet dirt containing nuggets of gold. And that was how the Blue Bucket mine was discovered.

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The Northwest | The Blue Bucket Mine

I was privileged once to see a diary said to have been kept by a man whose name, I believe, was Warren. The man was a member of the Blue Bucket train. In the diary he kept a day by day log of the train’s progress. By a series of calculations, based upon the mileages and directions given in the diary, I was able to reach a position that must have been in the vicinity of the fabulous mine. To further convince me that I actually did find the mine’s exact location, in my search I one day stumbled onto a weathered portion of a wagon box, with unmistakable traces of blue paint still visible on its bleached boards. That the wagon box was of the wagon-train era was evidenced by the foot that it was built like a scow, or flat boat, and was caulked with rags, fragments of which were still intact. Emigrant wagons were constructed in such manner to permit them to ford streams handily without damaging their contents. Well, there’s my story of the Blue Bucket mine. Many think the mine never existed. I think it did, however, I realize that my story would carry far more conviction were I able to exhibit a few buckets of gold taken from it—regardless the color of the buckets.

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THE CHILDREN OF THE DOG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 37–39. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’a¯út National Origin: Native American

Just as other regions of the United States have their narratives of shapeshifting witch wives, the Native American Northwest has this very widely spread tale of the husband and his offspring who shape-shift between human and animal forms. This tale type in which the wife is deceived into marrying a dog differs from others in this region where the union between a human wife and dog husband were voluntary. In the former case, the spouses are victims. In the voluntary unions, the human partner in particular is conceived of as a marginal, though often powerful, violator of cultural norms.


O

nce upon a time there was a woman who went every night hunting porcupines. During the daytime she hunted marmots. While out on the mountains she built a shelter of branches. One night, when she had gone to sleep, a young man entered her hut. He looked just like her lover, and she thought he had followed her. In the morning she boiled some of the porcupine meat and both partook of it, and in the evening the young man went out to hunt porcupines. As soon as he had left the hut, he put on his blanket and appeared in his true shape. He was one of the dogs of the village. He crawled into the dens of the porcupines and caught a great number. Then he took off his blanket and reappeared in the shape of a man. For three nights he stayed with the woman. During the daytime he went hunting marmots, and he never went out without bringing back a vast amount of game. Then he ate of the food that the woman had cooked and they went to bed. In the third night he arose about midnight. He had assumed his true shape, and ate the meat and gnawed the bones of the marmots and of the porcupines. The woman awoke by the noise and saw a large dog eating their provisions. She turned to the man, intending to awake him, but there was nobody to be seen. Then she took a club and killed the dog. Early in the morning she made a bundle of the remaining dried meat and returned to her village. She did not tell any one of what had happened. But soon she felt that she was with child, and when this came to be known nobody knew who had been her lover. After two months she was about to be confined. The women of the village assembled to assist her, but what was their terror when she gave birth first to two male dogs, then to a female dog! They all fled, even her mother. Only her brother’s sister remained with her. The women told the people what had happened, and all the inhabitants of the village resolved to desert her. They packed their belongings and left the place. Only the young woman and her pups remained. They grew up rapidly. Every day their mother went gathering food for them. As soon as she left the hut, the pups took off their skins, and played about in the shape of children. They had nice, light skins. When they saw their mother approaching, they put on their skins, resumed the shape of dogs, and lay in the ashes of the fireplace. One day their mother did not go very far. She heard voices of children near her hut. They seemed to be playing and singing. Cautiously she approached the hut, walking noiselessly over the snow; but the children had seen her coming, and put on their blankets before she was able to come near.

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The Northwest | The Children of the Dog

On the following day she went up the mountains, and there she pushed her staff into the ground and hung her blanket of marmot skins over it. Again she approached the hut cautiously. When she came near, she saw two boys and one girl playing around. The latter went to look from time to time, and returned on seeing the staff that was covered with the blanket. She said to her brothers: “Mother is still out gathering wood.” Then the mother jumped into the hut. On one side of the fireplace were two dog-skins; on the other there was one. She took the first two, and threw them into the fire. Before she was able to take the last, the girl had run into the house, put it on, and was transformed into a dog. Then the boys sat down in a corner of the house, crying for their skins. Their mother gave them blankets made of marmot skins. She made garments and snow-shoes, bows and arrows, and the boys began hunting squirrels. When they came to be larger they hunted larger animals, and the bitch accompanied them. She was a very good hunter. They had such a vast supply of game that they did not know what to do with it. Their house was quite filled with supplies. The people, however, who had left the woman were unsuccessful in hunting, and were almost starving. They returned to their old hunting-ground, and were surprised to find the woman still alive, and to see the two young men. One day the two hunters went out to hunt mountain goats. Their dog accompanied them. Then a goat attacked the dog, gored it, and threw it down the side of the mountain. Later on the two young men married women of the tribe. Once upon a time they went hunting, accompanied by seven men. They hunted mountain goats near the sources of Tcunaq River. They killed a whole herd. Only one kid escaped by climbing a high, precipitous rock. There it stood, crying pitifully. The men of the party wanted to return, but the two brothers were so eager to kill the poor kid that they began the dangerous ascent of the steep rock. They had no pity. Then the rock began to grow and carried them up so high that there was no possibility of return. They succeeded in reaching a cleft. There they sat close together warming each other, but after three days one of the brothers died. On the following day the men of the tribe went to the cliff and shouted to the brothers, but there was no reply. The other one had died also. When they turned away to rejoin their tribe, on looking at the rock they saw blood flowing down from the place where the brothers had died, and also from the retreat of the kid. The blood may be seen on the rock up to this day.

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QAUAXSAQSSUQ Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 178. Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

Although certain elements of the following legend may sound fantastic (the killing of three large bears with only a knife, for example), most of the following is consistent with the shaman in Eskimo culture. Often the shaman is a misfit or an outsider personality, with a physical or mental aberration that sets him or her off from the rest of the group. An additional accuracy is that Eskimos did traditionally use assassination as a way of punishing crime or controlling deviance.

Q

auaxsaqssuq was a boy that was maltreated by all. In the day-time his mother hid him in the beds, but at night she had to take him out. Then he slept either in the doorway or on the roof, over the lamp-hole, in order to get at least a little warmth. He was generally lifted and carried by the nostrils, the crooked fingers being inserted in them. He always remained small, but his feet grew very large. He was a great angakoq (shaman), and was very strong. Finally he grew tired of the bad treatment he received, and showed his strength, after which, though he never killed any one, he was much dreaded and feared. Once he was indoors, lying on the bed without any boots on, when a man arrived inquiring for him. “Qauaxsaqssuq has gone into the house over there, and is inside,” he was told. Then the man called to Qauaxsaqssuq from outdoors, “Qauaxsaqssuq! Three large bears have come over from the land, and are now on the ice. Come out!” “Yes,” said Qauaxsaqssuq, and hastened to dress and put on his boots. Then he came out and saw the three bears. Holding only a knife in his hand, he ran

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The Northwest | The Giant Women

after them. He had no dogs to harry the bears and bring them to bay, but he soon caught up with them. He first seized the old one and twisted off its head, so that it was immediately dead. Then he took the cubs and knocked their heads together, and twisted their necks until they were dead. Then he took them up, the old one on one side, the cubs on the other, and carried them home. He brought the three bears to the assembled people, who proceeded to cut them up, put them in pots, cook them, and eat them. Qauaxsaqssuq was immensely strong, and what was heavy for others was very light for him. In spite of his small size, he could easily lift the largest rocks. He had enemies, who, however, were afraid to do anything against him openly. So once, when he went away to Qavanganiq, where he had a kayak, they secretly cut a hole in the skin-covering of his kayak. When Qauaxsaqssuq got into his boat, and out into the water, the boat began to fill with water, and thus it was that Qauaxsaqssuq drowned.

THE GIANT WOMEN Variant A Tradition Bearer: Jim Buchanan Source: Frachtenberg, Leo J. Pages 72–78 in Coos Texts. Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology 1. New York: Columbia University Press, 1913. Date: 1909 Original Source: Coos National Origin: Native American

On the Northwest Coast, the Native American equivalent of the “boogeyman” is the Cannibal Giantess. The foreboding, jungle-like forests in the region have encouraged the development of narratives of the Sasquatch, the Cannibal Giantess, and other traditional monsters. The following supernatural legends of the Giantess are told in the

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archaic style. Variants B and C have been modified from the original English translations to bring them closer to contemporary usage.

T

he Giantess was all the time enslaving people. Whenever she saw a man, she would thus say to him: “Come here, my husband!” The people got tired of it when they heard about it. Whenever a man died, she would carry away the things that were put in his grave. Such was the custom of the Giantess. Whenever children played, she would go there amongst them. She would play a while, and would then pick out the children that had valuables around their necks. When she was about ready to go home, she would take hold of a boy and put him into a basket. With this as her pack, she would run. He (the boy) could not get out. With him she went back, and brought him home there. She had there a hole as a door. In the mornings they two usually slept, in the evenings they would sit up. Such was the custom of the Giantesses. One younger brother remained. He was dreaming continually. He was dreaming thus: “You shall pull the door, which is a bunch of hard wood. The hard wood is amongst brick-weed. If you arrive there and pull the door, it will come open.” In the evenings they catch clams. They bring them home and eat them. Thus one will say to a boy: “What a surprisingly fat clam, poor boy!” She will give it to him. The clam is full of sand; still she will give it to him. The child will not eat it. She will take it to him. “Come close here, you poor boy!” Thus a Giantess will say to him. He will dodge. “Let me feel of you!” In his dream he saw his younger sister. Something was hanging from her ear. She had put her heart there. His sister was twisted to one side as he looked at her. Thus the sister said: “My heart is caused to be there, that’s the thing you are looking at. They two go to bed with their heads resting against each other. In the daytime they two sleep. They two warm themselves. At the edge of the fire they two warm themselves.” Thus the sister said, “They two always talk thus: ‘(Come) close here, let me feel of you!’ Thus the Giant women talk.’” Thus the child girl spoke to him. Now, indeed, the child (boy) said to his father, “Let me go there!” Indeed, he went there. He arrived there, and saw the bunch of hard wood. It was amongst brickweeds. When he saw it, he looked around in all directions. He was thinking thus: “My dream was just like this. I saw it thus.” Indeed, he pulled the bunch

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of hard wood. He pulled it in all ways. He pulled it once. Indeed, it was a door. He looked down, and saw his younger brother. “This is I, O elder brother! Nothing has happened to me as yet.” Thus he informed his elder brother. He looked at him from above. “What is the Giantess doing?” Thus said the younger brother. “There are two of them, indeed.” “What are they two doing?” “They two are sleeping. My sister’s heart is hanging from her ear.” Thus he said to his elder brother. “You must take care of yourself,” said his elder brother. “I am going home. There is no way to go down. I will inform my father, and will bring several ladders.” Thus the younger brother was talking. Again he shut the door there. “We will arrive in two days.” Thus he said. He went home again. Thus he was relating: “I saw my younger brother. I opened the door.” Thus he said when he returned. The father said, “Indeed, it is so.” They gathered pitch. Everybody was gathering that thing. Two days they were gathering that pitch. Thus the father said: “Now we will go there.” They took along a ladder. Indeed, they arrived there. Indeed, he again opened the door. He saw his child below. “Father, I am still well.” Thus spoke his child. “What are they two doing?” “They are sleeping, indeed.” Thus his child made it known to him. He put down the ladder, and went down on it. The children were brought up. Indeed, they two were asleep with their heads resting against each other. They quickly gathered the clothes, the money, and the bows. They quickly put pitch below. Clear around they put the pitch. Their two dresses were full of pitch. They did not know it. They were sound asleep. Their hair was tied together. They two did not know it. Now they finished. Now the people lighted the pitch everywhere. Their house was full of pitch. It began to blaze everywhere. So then the people went out. The door was shut again, and was made heavy by means of big stones. The people were standing there at the top of the door. The inside part of their entire house began to burn. Their two dresses began to burn. One Giantess jumped up when it began to burn. “Why do you hold me back?” “You, indeed, are fighting with me. Let me free!” As they were pulling each other, they came apart. One jumped towards the door. She jumped upwards. She bumped against the door as she jumped. Now the other one jumped upwards. “Why does it not come open as I go out?” Five times she jumped up. Still she could not go out. Both jumped up five times. The inside part burned entirely. They were watching the door. At the

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sixth time her heart went out. Her heart was beaten to pieces. Also the heart of the other one was beaten to pieces. Thus they said to them: “You shall be nothing. The last generation shall see you. You shall do nothing to people.” The men took the children home. One child’s heart was hanging on her ear. The boy was the only one who was all right. Thus the father was talking: “Suppose the thing that is hanging on the ear were cut off?” Indeed, it was cut off. No sooner was it cut off, than the child died. “It would have been good if it had not been cut off.” Thus they were saying. Now here it ends. Thus they tell the story about the Giant women.

Variant B She was all the time stealing people. Whenever she found a person, she would take him home. No one knew whither she carried them. This became the topic of their conversation. One morning many young men from the village came together. One of them said, “Suppose, we go there! You shall hide there at such a distance, while I will do the same.” No one knew how many men they were. They went there; and, indeed, they were hidden everywhere, one by one. One came there. Indeed, he saw the Giantess going down into the water. The young man held a knife. The young man wore a buckskin shirt. The Giantess smiled as she was coming. “Halloo, my husband! Come! We two will go home.” Thus she said to the young man. “Not so.” Thus answered the young man. “Bring your money!” “Not so, my husband! Only then shall you have it, when we get home.” Thus spoke the Giantess. “I, too, am a bad man. Do you see this knife?” Thus spoke the young man. He took off his shirt. He spread the shirt out on the ground. “This you shall fill with your money.” Indeed, the Giantess went and brought the money. She put it there in the shirt. “Come now, my husband! We two will go home. Only then shall you, indeed, have my money.” Thus the Giantess spoke. Five times she went for her money. “Now come, my husband!” The young man examined it and tried the weight. As he lifted the shirt, it was full. “This ought to be the right weight.” Thus the young man was thinking. “Come now, my husband! We two will go home.” Thus she said to him.

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“Go again, bring your money!” Indeed, she went. The young man ran away. He carried the money and ran. He already saw the Giantess come. The young man was out of breath, and jumped to one side. Now another man ran from there and carried the money. The Giantess came in a hurry. “Come, my husband!” The young man ran, and then jumped aside. Now another person ran from there. He carried the money. “Come, my husband!” Thus said the Giantess. Thus they ended it. The last one ran with it. She, too, the Giantess, ran. She almost overtook him. “Come, my husband!” The Giantess came to a village. “Which one is my husband?” Thus spoke the Giantess. She was beaten. Many persons were clubbing her. They hit her with a knife. But nothing happened to the Giantess. They were hitting her with sticks. “What shall we do if we don’t kill her?” Thus they were thinking. Now, the Giantess began to pull them to and fro. She pulled them in the direction of her home. She dragged them all. Indeed, she dragged all the people towards her. There lived one old woman. She had a granddaughter. Thus she said to her: “Where is she taking them?” Thus she asked her granddaughter. “She is already far away.” Thus spoke her granddaughter. “Take me there, granddaughter. I know where her vulnerable spot is. Only give me a knife, granddaughter. We two will go there.” Indeed, they two went there, she and her granddaughter. “Come here, O elder sister! You shall help me.” Thus spoke the Giantess. “Is that you, indeed, O cousin?” Thus that old woman spoke: “Where is her foot?” Thus that old woman spoke. “You put my hand there.” The old woman was blind. Indeed, they put it there to her foot. The old woman seized the knife. She felt for her foot, and began to cut her leg. The Giantess fell. The dear old lady killed the Giantess. Her body was spread out. It was entirely made up of bones. The bones were hard when they examined them. This was the reason why they could not kill her. No matter how long they would shoot arrows at her, they would strike there against her bones. They also hit her with a knife, and likewise they could not kill her. However, that dear old lady killed her. That old woman knew her. Then they all went to get her money, and they divided among themselves the money of the Giantess. They were not going to do anything, when they should possess the clothes of the Giantess. Thus the story is being told. Now there it ends.

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Variant C People were living on a small place. Some old woman had five children and two little grandsons. One morning they went away severally. The grandsons remained alone. In the evenings she taught the grandsons to dance. Indeed, the two children were dancing. Thus that old woman was teaching them a dance. Every evening she taught them a dance. One evening the two children were dancing. The fire was burning, the house was full of pitch. The house was continually burning. One evening the door just opened slowly. “Come, grandsons, come here behind my back! You two lie down!” There the old woman covered them with blankets. “Come in, my sisters!” Thus spoke the old lady. Indeed, they entered. Their faces were painted in different ways. Thus these two entered. They two entered with a dance. They two danced with their faces turned away from the fire. Thus the old woman spoke: “You dance well, my sisters.” She put more wood on the fire. “You two dance somewhat closer to the fire.” Thus spoke the old woman. Thus said one Giantess: “Not there, a little faster.” The dear old lady heard as the Giantess spoke. Their two dresses were caused to melt. Made of pitch were the dresses of the two Giant Women. “You two dance still closer to the fire.” Thus spoke the old woman. The old woman was splitting pitch-wood. Their two dresses began to melt. She lighted them with split pitch-wood. She applied it blazing to the dresses. Thus she did to both (of them). Their two dresses were burning. They burned for a long time, and the two Giant Women did not know it. Then they two examined themselves. They flew outside. The old woman was looking at them as they were running about in the woods. They two went back to the place whence they came. That old woman looked on as they two disappeared. The next day she examined her grandsons. To her surprise, both were dead when she lifted their two blankets. The children of that old woman came back. “The Giant Women scared us.” Thus the old woman related. “They killed all my grandsons when I covered them with blankets.” Now they searched there in the direction where these had gone. Indeed, they went there. Indeed, they found their house. One Giantess lay dead at a little distance from the door, while the other one had fallen at the very door. They lay dead. One man entered inside. Their money was seen as it was hanging. It

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The Northwest | The Girls Who Married Stars

was gathered up and taken home. Their house was set afire. They became rich when they came into possession of the money the Giant Women. Thus the story of the Giant Women is being told. Here it ends.

THE GIRLS WHO MARRIED STARS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 39–42. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’a¯út National Origin: Native American

Tale of women who marry star husbands are found literally across Native North America, as are other transports to and transformations of the heavens (in this collection, see for example, the Wichita “The Two Boys Who Slew the Monsters and Became Stars,” Vol. III, p. 212). The first segment of the following tale falls into the narrative category that folklorist Stith Thompson has labeled “Star Husband Type I: The Wish to Marry a Star.” The girls’ subsequent desertion of their wished-for husbands, their rejection of other suitors, and their death, suggests that the tale carries a subtext concerning being content with one’s lot in life.

T

here were two sisters who were playing in front of their house. They made a small hut and lay down in it to sleep. During the night they awoke, and saw the stars in the sky. One of the sisters said: “Do you see that white star? I will have him for my husband. You take that red star.” They joked and laughed on this proposition, and finally went to sleep again. While they were sleeping two men entered their hut. One of them wore a white blanket, the other wore a red blanket. The latter married the elder sister, while the former took the younger for his wife. They

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removed them from the house into the sky. They were the two stars of whom the girls had been speaking. When the sisters awoke and saw the strange men by their sides, they did not know where they were. On the following morning their mother called them to come to breakfast. When she did not receive an answer, she grew angry and went to call the girls. Then she saw that they had disappeared. During the night a boy had heard how the girls had been talking about the stars, and thus the people were led to suppose that the stars had abducted the girls. The stars go out every night with bow and arrows hunting caribou. Then they look through the holes in the sky and see what is going on on earth. The two stars who had married the girls also went out every night, and brought home many caribou. The young women skinned and carved them. They made gloves, shoes, and dresses from the skins. They cut long thongs from the skins of others, cutting spirally around their bodies. They hid the clothing and the thongs carefully from their husbands. There was no water, no cloud, and no rain in the sky, and they were always suffering thirst. They had nothing to eat but meat. Therefore they longed to return to their own country. When they had prepared a sufficient number of thongs and of cloths they made ready to escape. One day, when their husbands had started on a long hunting expedition, they went to the hole in the sky. They tied stones to one end of a thong and let it down towards the earth. When one thong was paid out they tied a new one to the end of the first, and thus they continued from morning to night. The one woman brought the cloths and the thongs from their hiding-place, while the other let them down. Finally, after four days, they felt the rope striking the ground. They could not see the earth because it was hidden by smoke. They shook the thong and it fell a little farther, but finally it seemed to have reached the ground. At least they felt that it was held by something. Now they tied two pairs of sticks together, one being on each side of the rope. They put on four suits of clothing, four pairs of shoes, and four pairs of gloves. The elder sister stepped on one pair of sticks and they began to glide down, the sticks acting as a brake. The rope swung to and fro, and the sister who had remained behind gradually lost sight of her. Finally the young woman reached the end of the rope and found herself on the top of a tall tree. Her clothing and her gloves were almost worn through by friction. Then she shook the rope, and upon this signal her sister began to slide down in the same manner. She came down very much quicker, because her sister was holding the end of the rope. Looking upward, she beheld a small dot in the air. It was coming

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The Northwest | The Girls Who Married Stars

nearer and increased in size. Soon she recognized her sister, who finally reached the top of the tree. There they were on the top of a tall spruce-tree, and there was no way of getting down. They broke off some branches, and made a bed in the tree. The elder sister, before starting, had tied an additional piece of thong around her waist, thinking that she might use it in case the long rope should not have reached the ground. She untied it and fastened it on to the long rope, but still it was not long enough. After a while, the young women saw a number of men passing the foot of the tree. They were armed with bows and arrows, and were on snowshoes. They recognized the wolf, the bear, and many other animals. They called to them, asking them to help them down, but they passed by without paying attention to their entreaties. The next morning they saw another man approaching the tree. They recognized the fisher. They called him, and he at once climbed the tree. The young women asked him to carry them down, but he demanded that they should first marry him. The elder one said “I will do so, but first carry me down.” The fisher finally agreed and carried her down. When they arrived at the foot of the tree, she demanded from him that he should first carry down her youngest sister. Reluctantly he was compelled to do so. Then he demanded from the youngest sister that she should marry him. She said: “I will do so, but carry me down first.” He took her down. When he insisted upon his former demand, the elder sister said: “We are almost starved; first bring us some food.” He went away and soon returned, carrying a bear that he had killed. During his absence the young women had lighted a fire. He wanted to roast the bear meat, but they said they wished to eat it boiled. Then the fisher made a basket of bark, and placed stones into the fire, which he intended to use to boil water in the basket. Meanwhile the young women had hidden a few pieces of meat under their blankets, and now they pretended to go to fetch water in which to boil the meat. As soon as they were out of sight they ran away down the mountains. After a while the eldest sister flung a piece of meat at a tree, asking it to whistle. They went on, and again she threw a piece of meat at a tree, asking it to talk. In this manner she continued to give meat to all the trees. When the young women did not return, the fisher followed them to the brook, where they had gone to fetch water. He discovered their tracks, and saw that they had escaped. He pursued them. Soon he came to the tree, which they had asked to whistle. It did so when the fisher went past. Then he thought they were on the tree, climbed it, and searched for them. When he did not find them, he continued his pursuit. He came to the second tree, which spoke when he

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went past. Again he thought the young women might be on the tree. He climbed up, but did not find them. Thus he lost so much time that they made good their escape. Towards evening they reached a deep canon. They walked along its edge, and soon they were discovered by the grizzly bear that was residing here. He wanted to marry them, and they did not dare to refuse. But they said: “First go and bring us something to eat. We are almost starving.” While the bear was away hunting, the girls built a platform over the steep precipice of the canon. It overhung the abyss, and was held in place by two ropes, which were tied to a tree that grew near the edges of the canon. Its outer edge was supported by two slanting poles, which leaned against a ledge a short distance down the precipice. When the bear came back, he found them apparently asleep on this platform. He did not bring any meat; he had only roots and berries. The young women said that they could not eat that kind of food, and demanded that he should go hunting again. It had grown dark, however, and the bear proposed to go out on the following morning. They lay down on the platform, and the young women induced the bear to lie near the edge, while they lay down near the tree to which the platform was tied. They kept away from the bear, promising to marry him after he should have obtained food for them. Early in the morning, when the grizzly bear was fast asleep, they arose without disturbing him, cut the ties with which the platform was fastened to the tree, and it tipped over, casting the bear into the abyss. The young women traveled on, and for a whole month they did not fall in with a soul. Then, one day, they discovered tracks of snowshoes, and soon they found the hut of a woman who had given birth to a child. They entered, and recognized one of their friends. They stayed with her for a short time, and when the young mother was ready to return to the village, they sent her on in order to inform their relatives of their return. She went to the mother of the two lost girls, and told her that they were waiting in the woods, but she would not believe the news. The young mother returned to her friends and told them that their mother would not believe that they had come back. Then they gave her as a token a skin hat that was decorated with stars. She took it to the village and showed it to the mother of the two young women. Then she began to think that there might be some truth in the report, and went out to look. There she saw and recognized her daughters. At that time all the men were out hunting. The women on hearing of the return of the two lost girls went out to see them, and they told of their adventures. Then they climbed two trees, tied their skin belts to the branches, and hanged themselves.

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The Northwest | Hunting Exploits of the God K’mukamtch

HUNTING EXPLOITS OF THE GOD K’MUKAMTCH Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Gatschet, Albert S. “Oregonian Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 140–41. Date: 1891 Original Source: Modoc National Origin: Native American

The Modocs were hunters and gatherers that inhabited southern Oregon. They lived in small bands and housed themselves in wickiups, dwellings shaped like an inverted bowl. As is apparent from the following narrative, the creator figure of their myths, K’mukamtch, exhibited the common flaws and impulsive nature of the trickster at his most inept.

A

fter creating the world, K’mukamtch took a stroll on the surface of the earth, and perceived five lynxes sitting on trees. Being dressed in an old rabbit-fur robe pierced with holes, he tore it to pieces and threw it away, exclaiming: “If I kill the five lynxes around me, I shall have a better fur-cover than that one.” He picked up stones, but when he threw one, he missed his aim and one of the lynxes climbed down the tree and ran away. Sorrowfully he said, “I won’t get a good mantle this time!” Then he threw a stone at another lynx, and, missing it, the animal likewise jumped down and disappeared. “Now my fur-robe will become rather small!” The three remaining lynxes sat on their trees and scoffed at the unsuccessful deity. This tickled him. He threw another stone and missed again; another and another, all with the same result, and when the last one of the beasts had scampered off, K’mukamtch ejaculated, “Now the skin will not even cover my back!” And while singing, he went to pick up the pieces of his old fur-cover, which he had torn up, pinned them together with wood-splinters, put it around his body, and continued his way. Having gone to a short distance, he found an antelope suffering from the toothache, and stretched out on a clearing in the woods. He spread his pieced-up

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mantle over the animal, and began to kick at it to make it bloodshot. He looked around for a stone-knife to skin it with, but after having released it of his hold the antelope ran away behind his back. He turned around, saw it running, and said: “My antelope looks exactly like this one!” The animal then ran past him, and when he saw his own mantle lying on the back of the antelope he cried. “Stop! Stop! The Indians will laugh at you when they see that you are wrapped in that miserable old rabbit-skin of mine.”

THE FIVE GRIZZLY BEARS Tradition Bearer: Jim Buchanan Source: Frachtenberg, Leo J. Pages 92–105 in Coos Texts. Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology 1. New York: Columbia University Press, 1913. Date: 1909 Original Source: Coos National Origin: Native American

In spite of the superior strength of the Grizzly Bears and the youngest Grizzly brother’s power of supernatural sight, human cleverness triumphs. The death of the youngest Grizzly is very much like the death of the Cannibal Giantess in the Coos tale “The Giant Women” (p. 55). The final declaration by the old woman that foretells the nature of all descendants of the Grizzly Brothers gives this narrative the quality of myth.

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hey lived there together. They were five brothers. No man ever could pass by there. Whenever they saw any one pass there, they killed him right away. Even if two persons passed by, still they would kill them. A little farther away many people were living. Everywhere they were talking about it. People were afraid of the brothers. They had killed too many people. So thus said the chief of the people who lived farther away: “How would it be if we should arrange some games?” Thus spoke their chief. “They may or may not come here to take part in the games.”

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The Northwest | The Five Grizzly Bears

Now, verily they said, “It will surely be good when people will play. Different people will play here.” So, indeed, they prepared the ground for the games. A stone wall was put up high. On top of it a crosspiece was placed. “If we bring up anyone here, and if the head goes over this cross-piece, then at the same time we shall hit the head.” Over there people were going to play. And also here at the stone wall, close to the ocean, people were going to play. The wall was put up in the ocean. Then their chief thought. “This is a good plan.” Then, verily, different people came to play there. Then they tried it. “Please, you try it!” Thus one was thinking. A rope was placed around his head. One person was standing below. He was going to watch the players. Now, indeed, he ran from above. His neck was fastened with a rope. So he came to the man who was standing below. Thus he said: “I was almost out of breath as I was running from above.” Thus he said: “You shall run up again.” Then he fixed the rope. “Here on this side make a knot.” Indeed, he had it so. Indeed, he ran upwards. Someone was pulling him from above; nevertheless it seemed as if he was running up by himself. Lucky money was going to be their stake. Whenever the lucky money was rolled down, he the player would then run down. He would desire to overtake it, to take hold of it. Their stake would fall into the ocean, and someone would go and get it. Now, the five brothers (the Grizzly Bears) heard about it. On this side one man was living. Thus the elder brother said, “How would it be if I should go there? I should see the people play.” Thus he was thinking. Indeed, he went there. Indeed, he came there to the man who lived there. He asked him, “What are they doing?” Thus he spoke. “People are playing. It will be good, indeed, if you get there. You must go there quickly.” Thus he spoke: “Money is their stake. They play for it. No one can overtake it and seize it. If one takes hold of it, it belongs to him. So their chief said. “Now, indeed, he saw it when he arrived there. Suddenly Black Bear ran up. Thus he was thinking. “Won’t I be able to run up?” Thus he was thinking: “Like some old woman that one is running up there.” Now Raccoon ran up. He saw, as they fixed him, as they put a rope around his neck. Thus one said to Raccoon, “When you are pulled from above, then you shall turn the knot around your cheek, and you shall run up.” Now, surely it was thus. It seemed as if he was really running, but he was pulled up from above. Now the lucky stake was let down. The person who arrived there looked at it. He ran down at the same time that the stake was let down. The lucky money

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fell into the water. One man stood there. He watched it whenever it fell into the water. He always went to get it. Grizzly Bear looked on as people were thus playing. High up different people were playing. Thus someone said to Grizzly Bear, “It’s your turn now. You will see people playing up above. Different people are playing there. You will see them.” Indeed, so he told him, “I will put a rope around your neck.” Thus answered Grizzly Bear. “Not so, I will climb up without a rope.” “Certainly, climb up.” He ran. He went a little way up and slid down again. Grizzly Bear looked up. Thus he said: “All right! Put a rope around my neck.” Now, indeed, he placed a rope around his neck. He made a knot on the back. Indeed, he was drawn up from above. He arrived there at the cross-piece. They struck his neck. It seems he did not look out, and was killed. He was rolled aside from where the people were playing. The next day another Grizzly Bear came. “What may be the reason why he does not come back?” Thus he said to his younger brother. “I, too, will go there.” Indeed, he went, and he came to the man who was living there. Thus Grizzly Bear spoke: “Have you seen my elder brother?” “Here are the remnants of his meal, behold, look at them!” Grizzly Bear believed it. “Where did he go?” “There where people are playing. Different people are playing there. They are playing with lucky money. You shall go there. Your elder brother may be there among them.” Thus he spoke to him. Indeed, he went, and he arrived there. Indeed, to his surprise, he saw the people play. Thus he was thinking. “Won’t I be able to run up?” Thus he was thinking. “Like an old woman that one there is running up.” “Do you want to play? Your elder brother may be high up. They are playing there. He may be there among them. Different people are playing there.” Thus one said to him. Raccoon ran up. The stake was let down, and he followed it. The stake fell into the water. Someone went after it, and brought up the lucky stake. Grizzly Bear looked at it. “Now, it’s your turn, Grizzly Bear.” Thus one said to him. Indeed, he now ran up. He did not care. He only wanted to climb up. Indeed, one put the rope around his neck. Grizzly Bear said nothing. The knot was tied on the back. He came very near getting on top. He was out of breath. His head came to the cross-piece. His neck was struck, and he was killed. He was rolled aside. “What may be the reason why he does not come back? I will follow him.” Thus another Grizzly Bear said. Indeed, he went, and came to the man who lived there. “Have you seen my elder brothers? Did they two pass by here?”

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The Northwest | The Five Grizzly Bears

“Surely, they two ate here. Look, here are the remnants of their meal!” “Where did they two go?” “There where they play. Different people play there. Your two brothers are among them.” Indeed, he went there; and, to his surprise, be saw the people play. Black Bear ran up. Thus Grizzly Bear thought. “Won’t I be able to run up? Like an old woman, that one there is running up.” Indeed, he came there. Thus Grizzly Bear said: “Where are my brothers?” He was gradually getting mad. Raccoon ran down from above. “People are playing above, there your two brothers may be playing. Do you want to climb up?” It did not seem as if he cared very much. He just wanted to climb up quickly. Indeed, someone put the rope around his neck, and tied the knot on the back. Indeed, he was drawn up from above. He ran at the same time, while someone drew him up from above. His head came to the cross-piece. His head was hit, and he was killed. Thus they the Grizzly Bears were all killed. Thus they were coaxed. The youngest brother was dreaming all the time. This was his dream: “Your brothers were simply killed.” He was afraid if he should go there. Now he got ready, put his belt on, and then went. He came to the man who was living there. Thus Grizzly Bear spoke: “Have you seen my brothers?” “They used to eat here whenever they came here. Look! These are the remnants of their food; they all left their remnants here.” Indeed, he saw it. “People play there, perhaps they too play there. You will see them there if you get there.” Indeed, he came there. He came there to the man who was watching, and to the people who were playing. Raccoon ran down. He looked on. “Won’t I be able to run down?” Indeed, he came there and looked on for a long time. People were playing there. Then he spoke thus: “Where are my brothers?” Thus someone informed him. “Different people play above, they are there among them.” Thus someone said: “Do you want to climb up?” “Indeed, I want to climb up there.” “Come, you shall certainly climb up.” Indeed, he came there. Someone put a rope around his neck. He took hold of the rope and took it off his neck. “I will run up without a rope.” He ran. He climbed up quickly. When he had come halfway, he was out of breath. He could not hold on. Again he slid down from there. They looked at him from above. He heard as the people played above. Thus someone said to him: “How will you climb up?” He was watched all the time. He became very much agitated.

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He said thus: “All right! Put the rope around my neck.” One tied a knot on his back. He did not want it that way. “If I do it that way, then you will surely play.” He did not believe it. So Raccoon ran down. He looked at him, and, indeed, he had a knot on his back. Now Raccoon pretty nearly got on top. He began to slacken up a little bit, and turned the knot around. At the same time someone drew him up from above. “Do you see it?” “Certainly, I see it.” Thus spoke Grizzly Bear. Indeed, thus he spoke. “Put the rope around my neck.” Indeed, a man made the knot on the back. Indeed, he ran up, while someone pulled him up from above. His head came near the cross-piece. He was looking out. His head was hit. He dodged as he was struck. Just the rope was hit. The rope came apart and rolled down below. It fell into the water when it rolled down. “Indeed, my dream was true. My elder brothers were killed.” He swam out into the ocean. He ran away and swam far out. They could not follow him. He was seen as he swam. Thus he was thinking: “In which direction shall I go?” He began to swim towards the ocean. “Where shall I get ashore?” Thus he was thinking. He was cold as he was swimming ashore. Indeed, he came ashore at the mouth of the river. One old woman was living there. Thus he thought: “I will go there.” He came ashore crawling. He could not stand up. Now, indeed, he came to the old woman that lived there. She recognized him when he got there. “Is that you, indeed, who arrived, grandson?” That old woman frightened him. “Don’t you do anything, grandson.” Thus spoke the old woman. “You are merely cold. You shall warm yourself here.” She was going to kindle a fire. “You will get warm.” Indeed, she kindled a big fire. Grizzly Bear fell asleep right away, as soon as he got warm. Thus she said to him: “You sleep, and let me get some wood.” She put big quantities of wood on the fire. At the same time she kindled it on the top. “Now you sleep, let me look for wood.” Thus spoke the old woman. Indeed, she took a small basket and began rapidly to look for pitch. She rapidly filled the small basket. She came back to her house, and put the pitch into a bowl. With red-hot gravel-stones she boiled the pitch. The man who slept scented it. “What is this scent?” Thus spoke Grizzly Bear. “It’s only the wood which I caused to burn so very hard.” Thus spoke that old woman. Grizzly Bear again fell sound asleep. He slept with his mouth wide open. The pitch was boiling. The old woman took the pot and poured the pitch into his mouth. Red-hot gravel she put into his mouth. Then old woman ran away into a corner and looked on from there.

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The Northwest | The Girl Who Married Her Brother

Grizzly Bear got up and began to jump around. He was looking for that old woman; and when he saw her, he seized her. He bit and chewed her between his teeth. She came out from there, from his mouth. The woman was sitting between his teeth. She again came out from there. Thus Grizzly Bear was thinking: “Thus I will kill the old woman.” That old woman knew who he was, and Grizzly Bear knew the old woman. Grizzly Bear again seized that old woman. He was thinking thus: “I will now swallow her entirely.” Indeed, he swallowed her entirely. That old woman came out through the anus-hole. The old woman cut out his heart. Thus she got even with him. Then she came out through the anushole. That old woman looked on as he died. Now she had killed him. The old woman was thinking, “What shall I do with him?” Thus she thought. Everyone came to know it when they had killed all the Bears. Everybody came to know it. Thus spoke the old woman: “You shall be nothing. The last generation shall see you.” Thus spoke that old woman. “The last generation shall eat your meat. You shall be nothing. You will always be an article of food. Whenever you see someone, you will run away. Whenever you scent them the people, you will run far away.” All this that dear old woman was saying. Now here it ends. Thus people tell the story.

THE GIRL WHO MARRIED HER BROTHER Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 212–14. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

The following narrative suggests the various ways a family can be shattered through “meanness” as well as through incest. There are suggestions in the narrative that Anediwi’dowit is not simply a social problem to her family, but that she poses a supernatural threat as well. The intimidation of her mother and siblings and the fact that she has a single vul-

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nerable spot on her body provide evidence that she has at least has power; she may even be a shaman.

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mother and her ten children were living together. The oldest was a girl, called Anediwi’dowit She was mean; and her mother had to hide from her the youngest child, a boy, called O’manuts. Anediwi’dowit was wont to ask her mother, “Where is that child you bore some time ago?” to which her mother would reply, “Oh, I lost him long ago.” Every morning Anediwi’dowit saw her mother go down to the spring. She followed her, and noticed that the water was disturbed, as if someone had been swimming there. One day Anediwi’dowit found a long hair in the water. She measured it with the hair of her other brothers, and found it to be too long. So she decided to learn whose hair it was. Every night she camped at the spring, until one morning she saw a strange man come down to bathe. Then she knew who had been disturbing the water, and to whom the hair belonged. It was O’manuts. She fell in love with him, and decided to marry him. She went home and asked her mother to prepare some food for her, as she was going away. Her mother gave her food, and Anediwi’dowit asked, “Who wants to accompany me?” The oldest brother said, “I.” “No,” replied the girl, “not you.” In a similar manner she refused to go with any of her other brothers. Finally she ran to the side of the house, put her hand there, and said, “This is the one I want to take along.” Then O’manuts came out from where he had been hidden all these years, and said, “All right! I’ll go with you.” They traveled all day. When night came, Anediwi’dowit said, “Let us stop here!” So they stopped there, and the girl began to prepare the bed. O’manuts suspected what she wanted of him, but he said nothing. He only wished she might fall sound asleep, so as to be able to run away from her. When she was sound asleep, he put a log in his place and left her, returning to the house. He ran home, and shouted, “Let all get ready to come with me!” They did so, and before departing cautioned everything in the house not to tell Anediwi’dowit where they had gone. But they omitted to tell Ashes. Early in the morning Anediwi’dowit woke up and began to speak to the log, thinking it to be her husband; but soon she found out the deception, jumped up in anger, and cried, “I’ll kill you!”

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The Northwest | Coyote and the Old Woman

In the mean time O’manuts and his family had entered a basket and were drawn up to the sky. Anediwi’dowit came home, and inquired of everything in the house as to the whereabouts of her mother and brothers. No one would tell. Finally she asked Ashes, and was told that they had gone up to the sky. She looked up, and saw her family halfway up the sky. She began to weep, and called for them repeatedly to come down. But O’manuts had told them not to look back, no matter how often she might call. Soon, however, the mother looked back, and the basket began to fall. Anediwi’dowit was glad when she saw the basket coming down. She made a big fire, intending to kill her family as soon as the basket should fall into it. The basket came down; but, when O’manuts hit the ground, he flew right up and floated away. Anediwi’dowit thought she had killed them all, and was very glad. After a while O’manuts came down on the ocean beach, where two SeaGull girls found him. At first the girls were afraid of him; but he assured them, saying, “Don’t be afraid of me! Touch me, wash me, and you will find that I am all right!” The girls did as directed, and O’manuts married them. After a while his wives became pregnant and gave birth to a boy and girl. As soon as the children grew up, O’manuts gave them a bow and arrow, and taught them how to shoot, saying, “When you grow up, I want you to go to my sister over yonder, and watch her secretly.” The children grew up and went to their aunt’s house, who scared them so, that they ran back in a hurry. Then O’manuts said to his children, “Let us all go and kill my sister! She is mean. She killed my family.” The children promised to help him. So they all went, and O’manuts began to fight with his sister; but he could not kill her, because the only vulnerable spot, her heart, was in the sole of her foot. In vain O’manuts shot arrow after arrow at her. He could not kill her. His arrows were all gone, and he was almost exhausted, when Meadow-Lark came to his help. She told him to look at Anediwi’dowit’s heel. He did so, and saw something bright and shining. On Meadow-Lark’s advice he directed an arrow at that spot, and thus succeeded in killing the terrible Anediwi’dowit.

COYOTE AND THE OLD WOMAN Tradition Bearer: Charlie DePoe Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 233–38.

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Date: 1900 Original Source: Joshua National Origin: Native American

Coyote assumes his typical role of trickster and transformer of the environment in this myth. As usual, he is ruled by his impulses and his desires, rather than by intellect or ethics. This is his characteristic behavior in the Native American cultures of this area of the Northwest region.

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n the old days different people were living in the world. The Joshuas were the Coyote people. At that time there lived at Dime five boys and their grandmother. The grandmother instructed the boys how to make spears and bows and arrows, and how to put poison on the arrows, just as their father, who was a seal-hunter, used to do. The boys made a canoe out of a red-wood log that had drifted ashore during a big storm, and the old woman gave each of them a basket-hat to wear, in case the canoe should upset. They also had different kinds of spears, and a skin rope which the old woman had shown them how to make. At that time Coyote lived at Joshua. He had never been to Dime, but had heard that various kinds of food could be obtained there. One fine day, when the ocean was very smooth, the oldest boy said to his grandmother, “This is a good day for hunting. Give us much food, as we may not be back today.” The old woman placed much food in the canoe; and the boys went away, leaving her alone. At the same time Coyote decided to visit Dime. He put on his best clothes and went up the beach. Pretty soon he arrived there. He looked into the sweat-house: no one was inside. Then he walked up to the house, where he found the old woman working alone. She had only an apron on, and Coyote wished he could get possession of her. He thought, “I will go in and talk to her.” So he opened the door; but the old woman shouted, “Wait until I put on a dress!” “Oh, never mind! Stay just as you are!” he replied. Then Coyote entered the house, and asked her where her grandsons were. She told him that they had gone out hunting, and asked him if he wanted any food; but Coyote replied that he would rather wait until the boys got back with fresh food. After a while he told the old woman that he was going into the sweathouse to sleep, and asked her to wake him up as soon as her grandchildren got

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back. He cautioned her not to wake him by poking him with a stick from the outside, but to come into the sweat-house. He reasoned that, once he had her inside, he would be able to take possession of her. So he went into the sweat-house, sat down, and wished a storm to come up on the ocean. Soon a heavy gale began to blow. The woman called Coyote to come and help her, but he never moved. She begged him to go up on the mountain and look for her grandchildren: he paid no attention. She poked him with a stick: still he did not move. The gale was growing worse. At last the old woman entered the sweat-house, seized Coyote, and began to shake him. Then he opened his eyes and asked her what the trouble was. She told him to come out and watch for her grandsons; but Coyote said, “Go out first! I shall follow immediately.” At first the old woman refused, because her back was bare, and she had to stoop in order to pass through the small opening of the sweathouse; but Coyote insisted, and they quarreled over it. At last the old woman gave in; but as she stooped to leave the sweat-house, she exposed her private parts, and Coyote had intercourse with her and killed her. Then he dragged her body back into the sweat-house. In the mean time the boys were far out on the ocean. As soon as the storm broke out, they thought of Coyote, and said, “It must be Coyote who is the cause of this storm. Let us go back! He may be hurting our grandmother.” So they began to paddle homewards, and approached the shore. They saw smoke coming from the house. They perceived Coyote, but did not see their grandmother anywhere. The breakers were still very high, and the boys did not know how to make the shore. Suddenly a great wave caught the canoe and carried it clear to the shore. The canoe was full of seals. Coyote was waiting for the boys on the beach, and, when asked if he had seen their grandmother, he replied, “Yes, she is in the house. She has treated me well. I knew your father. He used to teach me how to eat seal-meat with my head covered with blankets, so that no one should see me. Now I will show it to you here in the canoe.” The boys said, “Show us!” So Coyote entered the canoe, covered his head with a blanket and told the boys not to lift it unless he told them to do so. Coyote had just started to eat, when the youngest boy exclaimed, “Let us better go and see if our grandmother is in the house! You know Coyote is always lying. Let us hurry!” So they ran to the house, but found no one there. Then they entered the sweat-house, where they found the old woman dead in a corner. They ran back to the canoe, and heard Coyote laughing to himself and boasting of the trick he had played on the old woman.

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The boys were very angry, and decided to take revenge on Coyote. He was still in the canoe eating seal-meat. They fastened a rope to the bottom of the canoe, and by means of their magic power they sent it clear out to sea. Afterwards they revived their grandmother. After a while Coyote called, “Grandsons, lift the blanket!” There was no answer. He called again. Everything was quiet. Then he threw off the blanket, and found himself alone out in the ocean. He did not know how he got there. He looked into the canoe, and saw an old basket, an old hat, a mussel-digger, and a hat made of cougar-skin. At that time different monsters were living in the ocean. The boys called on all these monsters to go and devour Coyote. While the canoe was drifting, Sea Monster came out from the water, and, perceiving Coyote, he asked him, “What seems to be the trouble with you?” Coyote said, “I have no paddle and cannot get ashore.” Then Sea Monster told him, “I am going to call a man who will take you ashore.” And Coyote answered, “All right! Bring him here!” Soon he heard a hissing sound; and Sea Monster appeared, telling him that a man was coming to save him. Coyote thought that Sea Monster was lying, so he asked him to come close to the canoe. Sea Monster was afraid, but Coyote promised not to hurt him. Then Sea Monster stepped into the canoe; but as soon as he did so, Coyote seized the mussel-digger and thrust it into his tail. Since then Sea Monster has had a crooked neck and a long tail. After a while a seal came along, and Coyote asked him to come nearer. Seal at that time had a head like a dog. Seal approached, and Coyote asked him if he had come to save him. Seal replied, “Yes!” Coyote asked him to come closer. Seal did so, and Coyote put the old hat on his head and told him to dive. Soon Seal came up again, with a hat on his back; and Coyote laughed at him, saying, “Hereafter you shall live in the water. You shall come out on rocks. You shan’t kill people any longer. People will kill you when you are asleep, and will eat your meat.” Pretty soon Killer-Whale came along, spouting water like cataracts, from his big, open mouth. Coyote asked him to come close, but not to hurt the canoe. Killer-Whale approached, and was asked again to open his mouth wider. He did so, and Coyote threw the cougar hat down his throat, and told him to go to the bottom of the ocean and not to come back until he called him. After a while Coyote called him, and Whale appeared. His mouth and his teeth were very small. Then Coyote told Killer-Whale to leave that region forever. “ Hereafter,” Coyote said to him, “you may use your dorsal fin as a weapon.” Since that time Killer-Whale has been using his dorsal fin as a weapon. Not long afterwards Coyote saw a large Whale coming from the west. The Whale looked as large as a mountain, his mouth was wide open, and he had

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huge teeth. Coyote was afraid he might swallow the canoe or else break it with his tail, so he stood up and shouted to Whale to come to the edge of the canoe. When this was done, he threw the basket into Whale’s mouth, and ordered him to dive, and to stay under the water until he called him. Whale came up again, and his jaws were just as they appear today. Then Coyote told Whale, “You will eat fish hereafter, and not people. You will come ashore to die.” Whale started to leave; but Coyote thought it would be better if he jumped into his mouth, as he might be taken ashore by him. So he called Whale back and told him to shut his eyes and to open his mouth; whereupon he jumped into Whale’s throat, and the boys pulled the canoe back to their landing-place. The Whale took Coyote all over the ocean. It was warm inside, and Coyote had nothing with which to make an air-hole in the body of the Whale. At last he scratched his head and wished for a knife or any other weapon. Soon a spearpoint came out of his ear, with which he began to cut the Whale’s entrails. The Whale became sick, and Coyote advised him to go ashore; but he did not know which way to go. He stayed five years inside the Whale. During that time he had lost his hair and skin. He was eating nothing but grease. He had succeeded in cutting through the Whale within a few inches of the skin, so that the light shone through it, but the water could not come in. At the end of five years Coyote heard breakers and knew that he had come ashore. In the morning, when he saw daylight coming, he thought, “Maybe someone will find me here.” Pretty soon he heard people talking in a strange language. People had approached, had looked at the Whale, and said, “This Whale is not from our side of the ocean. Let him go back!” So when the high tide came, Coyote wished the Whale to go back. The Whale went out to sea again. After another year he came ashore on the south side of the Umpqua River. At that place there lived a chief who had five daughters, one of whom was adolescent, and who therefore did not sleep in the house. When the Whale came ashore, Coyote peeped through a small hole in the Whale’s skin, and recognized the country. So he opened the Whale and came out. He was in a dreadful condition. He was bald, his ears were gone, his skin was rotting—he was a mere skeleton. He could hardly walk, and had to crawl on his hands and knees. His eyes were full of grease, and he could hardly see. Soon the adolescent girl came upon the Whale, walked around him five times, and found Coyote’s tracks. She followed them until she found Coyote resting under a log. Coyote asked her, “Where am I?”

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The girl answered, “At my village.” She had on a short dress, and Coyote thought he would have intercourse with her. So he asked her, “Who is your father?” And the girl answered, “The chief of the Indians on the southern bank of the Umpqua River.” “Why do you go around at night?” Coyote asked again. Then the girl told him, and Coyote began to laugh. Then the girl said, “How did you get into the Whale?” So Coyote told her the whole story. Then Coyote put his hands on each part of her body, asking her to name them. He began with her head, then went down to her chest, touched her arms and breasts, came down to her leg, went up the other to her shoulder, and down again over her navel to the private parts. As soon as he put his hand there, the girl became unable to move. Then Coyote asked her, “How many brothers have you?” “Five,” answered the girl. “How many sisters?” “Three,” she replied. “Which of them do you sleep with?” “I sleep between my second and my eldest sister.” “What time does your mother get up?” Coyote kept on asking. “Sometimes early, and sometimes late,” answered the girl. “What time do you get up?” “Oh, sometimes early, and sometimes late.” Coyote also found out many other things from her; such as how she acted when in the house, where she kept her beads, and so on. After he got through questioning her, he told her to sit down close by him and to shut her eyes, whereupon he pulled off her skin and put it on himself. He made himself look just like the girl. Then he took her body, turned it into a steel-head salmon, and sent her into the ocean, telling her to live in the north. Then Coyote entered the house, disguised as a girl. The mother was awake, while the other three girls were still asleep. “Why do you come in so late?” asked the mother. “Oh, a whale has come ashore,” Coyote answered. The mother was very glad. Then Coyote lay down with the girls, making them sound asleep; but their mother began to wonder at their sound sleep, for they had never acted like that before. So she looked closely, and perceived Coyote’s leg, as it was sticking out from the blanket. Then she seized a sharp rock and cut it off. Coyote shot up through the smoke-hole, after having had intercourse with the three girls. He went back to the land of the Joshuas. The people were very angry at Coyote, and pursued him; but a heavy fog came up, so that he could not be tracked. After a while the three girls became

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The Northwest | The Death of the Grizzly Bears

pregnant, and could not get up. They were ashamed, and told their mother that they knew not how it had happened. They had slept all the time, and only remembered that their sister had come in to sleep with them. Then the old woman made her daughters lie down on flat boards, and stepped on their abdomens. Soon five Coyotes were born. The old woman told her daughters to wash, and to gather roots for medicine. She dried the little Coyotes in smoke, pulverized them, and threw the dust to the north, saying, “You stay in the north and do not come here! There are enough Coyotes in the south.”

THE DEATH OF THE GRIZZLY BEARS Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 214–216. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

Tales of the enmity between humans and grizzly bears is common in the Northwest region, as is the motif of an orphan and his or her grandparents. That the orphan is teamed with Coyote to defeat the entire Grizzly clan underscores the true power of seemingly helpless in myths and other types of tales. Moreover, Coyote’s wish to befriend the boy attests to the affinity between humans and this trickster figure that is an enduring motif in Native American folklore. Compare the following myth to “The Five Grizzly Bears” (p. 66), another tale in which the youngest brother shows the greatest intelligence.

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ne winter Coyote, his wife, and ten Grizzly Brothers were living together. Louse was Coyote’s wife. Not far from their lodge there lived a poor orphan and his grandmother. The boy was in the habit of visiting Coyote’s house and its inmates.

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One day the boy came to the house and looked in. The oldest Grizzly saw him, and said, “Halloo, boy! I knew your father and mother well. Your father was a good hunter. He knew how to obtain food. Your mother knew how to dig camas. But now you are alone and poor.” The boy began to cry and went home. When his grandmother saw his tears, she said, “I told you not to go to that house. The Grizzlies are mean, and always scoff at you. It was they who killed your people.” In the evening the boy sharpened his flint knife and went to the house of his enemies, hiding himself behind a bush. He knew where the chief was sleeping. As soon as they were all asleep, he took out his knife, cut off the chief’s foot, and ran home. In the middle of the night Grizzly woke up, and began to groan, “Oh, someone has cut off my foot!” Coyote was the first to wake up, and he shouted at the other Grizzlies, “Wake up! What is the matter with you people? Don’t you hear what the chief says?” He had seen the boy cut off the chief’s foot. He had followed him outside, where he picked up the bones, which the boy had thrown away, and threw them into the fire. He had also put the moccasin of the cut-off leg into the fire, so that it became burnt and black. He did all this because he wanted to befriend the boy, and shield him from the anger of the ten brothers. As soon as the Grizzlies were awake, Coyote said to the chief, “I warned you that your foot would slip off that rest some day and burn, and now it has happened.” The chief thought it might have been so, but his brothers were doubtful. In the morning Louse said to Coyote,” I thought I saw someone go out last night.” Coyote said, “No one went out. I was awake all night.” His wife was certain of it, but he kept on telling her that she was mistaken. After a while, one of the Grizzly Brothers recollected that on the previous day they had mocked the orphan boy, and expressed his belief that it was the boy who cut off the chief’s foot. Thereupon Coyote said, “I’ll go to the boy and ask him.” The others agreed, and Coyote started out. He found the boy eating bear-meat. He warned him to keep quiet, and not to say anything when questioned about the happenings of last night. The boy promised to obey; and Coyote returned home, telling the chief, “The poor boy is crying. He is not feeling well. I am sure he did not cut off your leg.” But the youngest Grizzly kept on saying, “No, I think he did it.” Finally Coyote was sent again to bring the boy before the chief. Upon arriving at the orphan’s house, Coyote said to him, “I have come after you. Be careful, now! If the chief asks you, ‘Shall I crush you with my hands?’ say, ‘No;’ if he says, ‘Shall I swallow you?’ answer, ‘Yes.’”

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The Northwest | The Death of the Grizzly Bears

When the boy was brought into the house, the chief asked him, “Did you cut off my foot?” The boy answered, “Yes.” “Why did you do it?” the chief asked again. “Was it because I mocked you?” “Yes,” replied the boy. Then Grizzly said, “What shall I do with you? Shall I pulverize you in my hands?” “No!” said the boy. “Shall I swallow you?” “Yes,” answered the boy. Thereupon Grizzly opened his mouth, and the boy jumped into it. Once inside, he took out his knife and cut his enemy’s heart. The Grizzly chief died. His other brothers wanted to dig a grave in which to bury him; but Coyote intervened, saying, “Don’t do that! Someone will open the grave, thinking it a cache of food. Better make a corral fence, put him there, and cover him with brush. The people will recognize it easily as a grave.” So the Grizzlies made a fence and buried their brother. As soon as they disappeared, the boy came out from the chief’s body and went home. In the evening Coyote said to the Grizzly Bears, “I am going to see the old woman and find out how she is getting on.” He came to the house, and found the boy and told him all he had done for him. At night he went back to his own house, and told the Grizzly Brothers that he was going to stay with the old woman. That was merely a pretence, for in reality he wanted to help the boy carry the bear-meat. During the night the youngest Grizzly had a dream, in which he saw Coyote help the boy carry the meat of his dead brother. He woke up, and said to his brothers, “Let one of you go and see whether the dream is true!” One Grizzly went there, and saw Coyote in the act of carrying away the last piece. He gave chase; but Coyote and the boy reached in safety the house, the door of which, upon the boy’s wish, turned into stone, thus defying all attempts of Grizzly to break in. The enraged Grizzly walked all around the house, saying, “Boy, how can I get inside?” The boy, in the mean time, was heating rocks; and when they were red-hot, he said to Grizzly, “I’ll tell you how to enter, but you must come in hind-feet first.” Grizzly consented, and the boy opened the door a little bit. As soon as the Bear’s body was halfway in, the boy wished the door to close tight. The door closed, and Grizzly was caught fast, whereupon the boy killed him by means of heated rocks. In the same manner all the other Grizzlies were killed with the exception of the youngest one, who became the progenitor of all Grizzly Bears that are alive now.

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COYOTE AND RACCOON Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 220–21. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

The myth below features Coyote in his usual persona of trickster and inadvertent transformer of the universe. Driven by jealousy, revenge, and greed, he causes the creation of the Pleiades. The motif of Ashes as informer appears also in “The Girl Who Married Her Brother” (p. 71).

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oyote and Tcinake, the Raccoon, were living together. Each had five children. One day Coyote said, “A feast is taking place not far from here. Let us go there!” to which Coon replied, “All right!” They went to the fair and had a good time. Coyote fell in love with two girls; but they preferred Coon, and paid little attention to Coyote. Towards evening Coyote said to Coon, “I am going away for a little while. I’ll be back soon. Do you watch those two girls!” While Coyote was gone, the two girls invited Coon to go with them, telling him that they did not care for Coyote. Coyote returned and looked for his friend. In vain he called his name repeatedly: he could not find him. At last Coon appeared; and Coyote asked him, “Where have you been? Where are the girls?” Coon told him that the girls were in the woods, whereupon Coyote accused him of having taken them. He was very angry. After a while they started home. On their way they saw a squirrel running into a tree-hole. Coyote asked Coon to put his hand into one end of the hole, so as to scare the squirrel and drive it to the other side of the opening, where he (Coyote) was waiting for it. Coon reached into the hole with his hand, and Coyote seized and began to pull it. Coon shouted, “Hold on! This is my arm.” “No,” said Coyote, “this is the squirrel.” And he kept on pulling until the arm came off, and Coon died.

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The Northwest | Coyote’s Amorous Adventures

Then Coyote went home, carrying Coon’s body. Upon his arrival home, he distributed the meat among his children; but the youngest boy, angry because he was not given an equal share, ran over to Coon’s children, and said, “My father has killed your father. He did not bring home all the meat. Tomorrow he is going for more.” Whereupon Coon’s children said, “All right! Tomorrow we shall kill your brothers, but we will spare you. We shall take you with us.” The next day, while Coyote was away, they killed his four children and left them on the floor. Then they ran away, enjoining everything in the house not to tell Coyote where they had gone. They forgot, however, to caution Ashes. Coyote came home, and tried to wake his children; but they were dead. He asked everything in the house to tell him where the murderers of his boys had gone. No one knew. Finally he asked Ashes. The Ashes flew skyward, and Coyote followed their flight with his eyes. Before they were halfway up the sky, Coyote saw Coon’s children, and his own boy trailing behind them. He wept, and called to them to come back; but they would not listen to him. Then he tried to catch them. He could not overtake them. The children remained on the sky as stars. They are the Pleiades. The five big stars are Coon’s children. The smaller star behind them, the red star, is Coyote’s boy.

COYOTE’S AMOROUS ADVENTURES Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 209. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

Typical not only of the Shasta’s version of Coyote, but of Native American tricksters in general, is an apparently restless wandering. His shape-shifting and final taunts to victims of his deceptions also are typical.

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nce Coyote perceived two girls walking along the road; and he said to himself, “I should like to have these girls. I wonder how I can get them!” A small creek ran parallel to the road. “I will go into the creek and turn into a salmon,” said Coyote. He did so, and pretty soon the girls came to the creek. Upon seeing the salmon darting to and fro, one girl exclaimed, “Oh, here is a salmon! Let us catch it!” So the girls sat down on opposite banks of the river, and the salmon swam back and forth, entering their bodies. The elder girl said to her sister, “Do you feel anything queer?” and her sister answered, “Yes, I feel fine.” Thereupon Coyote came out of the creek in his true form, and laughed at the girls, saying, “You thought it was a salmon, but I fooled you.” The girls were angry, and cursed him. He kept on going downstream. Coyote went on for some time, until he heard a girl singing. It sounded to him as if she were singing, “I wish Coyote would come here!” He kept on running in that direction, until he came to a place where he saw Duck-Girl. She was making a basket and singing a love-song. Coyote said to her, “I’d like to stay with you.” The girl consented; so he said, “I will first get wood for the fire, and then I will sleep with you.” They lived together for a long time. After a while DuckGirl became pregnant. One day Coyote said to her, “I am going to get more wood.” While he was gone, the girl entered the basket, which started to roll down the river-bank. Coyote came home, and, seeing the basket roll down the bank, ran after it. He could not catch it; and the basket rolled into the water, and began to float downstream. Coyote ran down to the river and extended his penis, in order to intercept the basket; but when the basket came, it just floated past him and could not be stopped. After a while children’s heads began to stick out from the basket, which kept floating downstream until it reached the ocean. Coyote tried several times to catch the basket, but his attempts were unsuccessful.

COYOTE AND PITCH Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 218.

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The Northwest | Coyote and Pitch

Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

The tale of “Coyote and Pitch” bears obvious similarities to the “tar baby” tales that in the United States are most closely associated with African American traditions. As far as can be determined, the following narrative was not adapted from African American sources, and variants of the trickster tale exist in the repertoires of other Native American Northwest coast cultures. Unlike the African American tar baby, Pitch moves and speaks under his own power. Coyote, of course, exhibits the same aggression and arrogance as his African American counterparts Rabbit and Anansi.

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ne day Coyote heard that Pitch, the bad man, was coming. He went out to meet him, and said, “I can whip you, no matter who you are.”

Pitch answered, “I can’t fight with my hands.” Thereupon Coyote struck him with his fist; but the fist stuck fast. Then Coyote said, “If I strike you with my left hand, I’ll kill you.” “Go ahead, do it!” answered Pitch. Coyote hit him, and his left hand stuck fast. “I’ll kick you,” said Coyote; and Pitch replied, “All right, kick!” Coyote kicked, and his foot stuck fast. “If I kick you with my left foot,” threatened Coyote, “I’ll surely kill you.” “Do it!” mocked Pitch. Coyote kicked again, and his left foot stuck fast. “I will lash you with my tail!” shouted Coyote, whereupon his tail stuck fast. Then Coyote became angry, and threatened to kill Pitch with his ear; but his ear, too, stuck fast. Finally Coyote hit him with his head. The same thing happened. His head stuck fast. Now Coyote was stuck to Pitch, and could not pry himself loose. After a while his friend Spider came there, and saw Coyote’s predicament. “How can I help you?” inquired he. “Cut my hand away, but do not cut it,” said Coyote. “It will be easier to burn it away,” suggested Spider. “No!” said Coyote, “scrape it away!” Spider did so, and after a while Coyote became free.

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COYOTE AND BEAVER Tradition Bearer: Charlie DePoe Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 238–40. Date: 1900 Original Source: Joshua National Origin: Native American

The trickster’s characteristic gluttony and audacity once again get Coyote in trouble. He, in fact, exposes his guilt in his first confrontation with Beaver and, in the second, proposes his own means of execution. Only the supernatural power that is usually trickster’s “escape clause” allows him to survive. The collectors’ supplementary notes to the tale observe that this is one of the rare Northern Athabascan narratives also found among a Southern branch of the culture, the Apaches.

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en miles up the Rogue River, Beaver and his five children were living together. Not far from them Coyote was living. One morning Coyote said to his wife in the sweat-house, “I am going away today.” His wife said, “You better stay here!” But Coyote answered, “I am going, anyway.” Mista’ne was Coyote’s friend. Before departing, Coyote told him to watch for him at a certain rock, as he might not be back for a long time. “If you see a bone or anything dead,” he said to Mista’ne, “know it will be my body. Bite it, and I will come to life again.” Then Coyote departed, no one knew where. He approached Beaver’s house from the north side. Beaver was hunting every day. He ate all kinds of wood and called it salmon. Only one kind, the mı¯ta¯ltsis-wood, he did not eat. His children were fat and strong. When Coyote came to the river, he shouted for Beaver to take him across. Nobody answered! He shouted three times. At last Beaver’s children came, and began to swim around him. Coyote decided to kill them: so he jumped into the river, and began to swim too. He swam across and came to Beaver’s house. Old Beaver was not home. Coyote entered, and said to the children, “Children,

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The Northwest | Coyote and Beaver

don’t be afraid of me! I am your uncle.” Then he went outside, put rocks into a basket, and heated them. Then he took some wild-cabbage, ground up a piece of mitu’ltsis-wood, put it into a pot, and gave this to the children, saying, “Here is fresh salmon your father left for you. It tastes good!” Then he pretended to eat this food. Beaver’s children ate it and died. Then Coyote took the dead bodies outside, placed them on heated rocks, and covered them with sand. First he put one body into the ground, then hot rocks, then another body, and so on. Then he went into the river to swim. He was afraid of the old Beaver, and did not dare to cook the meat in the house. After he was through swimming, he took Beaver’s children off the fire, and placed them in a cool place. Then he went swimming again. When he came out of the water, he began to eat. The meat tasted fine, so he ate half of it. Then he bathed again. By sundown he had eaten all the meat. Then he hid the bones of the children under a small basket, and went into the river again; but he had eaten so much, that he felt sick. So he tied a log around his body in order to keep himself afloat. Towards night he came back to his wife. She questioned him about his trip, and he told her that he had not been on any mischief. He had just called on his cousin, who gave him plenty of food. In the mean time Beaver had come home and found his children’s bones. He felt very sorry. He saw Coyote’s tracks, suspected him at once, and wished he would come back, so that he could take his revenge. After five days Coyote decided to go to Beaver to find out how he was taking his loss, and whether he suspected him. He took along his knife, a bow, and six arrows. From a distance he could see Beaver sitting on the bank of the river, and sharpening his knife. He was crying, and his hair was white with mucus [as a sign of mourning]. Coyote came nearer. Beaver never looked up. Coyote watched him from a distance, and thought,” I guess everything is safe. I will ask him to take me across.” He waited for Beaver to raise his head, so as to attract his attention. He wondered in what language to address him. He did not want to be recognized. He decided to use the California language. So he called out in that language, “My friend, come after me in a canoe!” Beaver never looked up, but kept on working. Five times Coyote called him. Then he spoke in Joshua: “I did not kill your children, if that be the reason why you won’t bring your canoe.” Suddenly Beaver disappeared; and Coyote stood there with his bow half drawn, and waiting for Beaver to come up again. Beaver began to swim around in a circle, and Coyote got dizzy from turning his head so often. At last Beaver darted up from behind, seized Coyote, and dragged

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him down into deep water. Coyote was drowned. Then Beaver tied a heavy rock around him and sunk him. Coyote stayed in the water ten years, when the rope with which he was fastened to the rock began to rot, and broke. In the mean time Beaver married again, and had two children. He was still afraid that Coyote might re-appear: therefore he warned the children not to eat any mitu’ltsis-wood. All this time Mista’ne had been staying in the sweat-house. One day a storm broke out. The water rose, and different things drifted ashore. Among them he saw a small bone, so he went into the water and brought it ashore. After having squeezed the water out of his hair, he took the bone and bit it. Then Coyote came to life again. He said to Mista’ne, “I have been asleep. Why did you wake me?” Then Coyote went home; and his wife asked him, “Where have you been?” Coyote said, “I have been way east visiting my relatives.” After a while Coyote decided to take revenge on Beaver. He dressed up like a California Indian, put many things into the canoe, and went to Beaver’s house. Upon his arrival there, he shouted in the language of the California Indians, “Friend, I have come with beautiful presents for you! I heard that you have been sick.” Beaver came out of the house, and said, “It is well.” He offered Coyote some salmon; and after Coyote finished eating, he said to Beaver, “Let us gather wood! Let us see who is the stronger! Perchance I can help you when Coyote comes to trouble you again.” Beaver consented: so they made a great fire and heated rocks. Coyote remembered the taste of beaver-meat, and wanted to eat some more. He gathered plenty of grass, and proposed a test of strength with Beaver. They were to bury and cook each other, and the one who got cooked first was to admit himself beaten. Then Coyote dug a deep hole and buried Beaver. He covered him with leaves and grass, and began to cook him. Pretty soon Beaver shouted, “Uncover me! I am half cooked. I shall die.” Coyote took him out, but Beaver was not cooked at all. He had escaped certain death by digging himself deeper into the ground. It was Coyote’s turn now to be buried. He was scared, and said, “Let us put it off for another time! I am in a hurry now.” But Beaver said, “No! We have agreed to that test, and we will finish it now!” So they heated stones, and Beaver began to bury Coyote. Before he was all covered up, Coyote said to Beaver, “I’ll shout when it gets too hot.” Beaver told him he would walk around the hole, and be on hand whenever Coyote called. After a while Coyote shouted, “Open! It is hot!”

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The Northwest | The Great Snowfall

But Beaver said, “Why, I haven’t even covered you yet.” Then he kept on throwing dirt and grass on the hole. Pretty soon no sound could be heard. Beaver called out to Coyote, “Are you alive?” No answer came. Then Beaver opened the hole and looked in. The meat was all gone: nothing but the bones was left. So he tied a rock around him and threw him into the river. Coyote stayed in the water twenty years. At the expiration of that time the rope broke, and Coyote was brought back to life by his friend Mista’ne. He went home, and again his wife asked him, “Where have you been all this time?” “Oh, I have been travelling all over the world,” Coyote answered.

THE GREAT SNOWFALL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 35–37. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’a¯út National Origin: Native American

As Franz Boas writes in his notes to the following narrative, “[The grizzly bears] were men. It is not quite clear if they were men of a grizzly bear clan, or if the story happened at the time when all animals were still men.” If they were anthropomorphic bears, then the tale would be classified as a myth. Given the details of the story, however, the more likely interpretation is that they were human members of the grizzly bear clan, making the following an example of a legend. See “The Five Grizzly Bears” (pp. 66) and “The Death of the Grizzly Bears” (p. 79) for narratives that are clearly mythic, rather than legendary.)

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nce upon a time a number of families of the wolf clan and of the eagle clan lived in a village at Portland Channel. Nearby there was a village of grizzly bear men. They attacked the village, and killed everybody with the exception of one boy and one girl of each of the two clans. They were crying all the time when they saw their relatives killed. Then one of the grizzly bear men went to their hut, and threatened to kill them if they should not stop crying. But one of the boys took his bow and arrow and shot the man in the chest, thus killing him. After this had happened, they dug a deep ditch in their hut, and buried all their relatives who had been killed. They left the place of these misfortunes and went down the mountains. After some time they reached a house, in which they found an old, old man who had been left by his friends to die alone. He said to them: “Stay here until I die, my grandchildren, and bury me when I am dead.” They stayed, and he asked them why they had left their country. When they had told him, he asked them to return, because salmon were nowhere as plentiful as in the river on which their house had stood. He also warned them, saying: “The sky is full of feathers. Take good care to provide your-self with plenty of meat, and build a strong house.” He was a great shaman, and was able to foresee the future. After two days he died. The young people buried him. Then they started to return to their home in obedience to what the shaman had told them. They followed a river, and when they were near its source they saw an immense herd of mountain goats coming down towards them. They did not stop to shoot them, but ran right up to them and dispatched them, cutting their throats with their knives. Then they went back to the camp in which they had left the girls, taking along only a kid that they had killed. They threw some of its meat and tallow into the fire, as a sacrifice to the dead shaman who had directed them to return home. On the following day they moved their camp to a hill that was located in the midst of three lakes. There they built a strong hut as directed by the shaman. The two girls went out to fetch the meat of the mountain goats. While they were drying it, the boys strengthened the poles of the house, joined them with stout thongs, and thus prepared for a heavy snowfall. They put the meat into the house. On the following day the snow began to fall. They lived on the meat of the mountain goats, but they sacrificed as much to the dead shaman as they ate. It continued to snow for two months. They could not go out to gather wood for their fire, but they had to burn the bones and the tallow of the goats. The smoke kept a hole open in the roof of their hut; and, when looking up, they could see no more than a very small speck of light. But after two months they saw the blue sky through this hole. The sun was shining again. Then they dug a hole towards the surface of the snow and came out. Nothing but snow was to be seen. The

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The Northwest | The Fight Between the Coyote People and the Bat People

rocks of the mountains and the trees were all covered. Gradually the snow began to melt a little, and the tops of the trees reappeared. One day they saw a bear near the top of a tree. When they approached, it crawled back to its lair at the foot of the tree. Now they started on their way to their old home. After a long and difficult march, they reached it just at the time when the candlefish were coming. They caught a plentiful supply and were well provided with provisions. In summer there were salmon in the river. They caught them and dried and split them. They married and had many children. They were the only people who were saved from the heavy snow, and from them descended the present generations of people. They multiplied very rapidly, for they married very young, as dogs do. At the end of the first summer, only a small part of the snow had melted. A few rocks appeared in the mountains, but in the fall new snow began to fall. In the spring of the following year it began to melt again. The trees were gradually freed from snow, but some of it has always remained on the mountains, where it forms the glaciers. The two couples who had been saved from the snow grew to be very old. Their hair was white, and they were bent with old age. One day the young men climbed the mountains to hunt mountain goat. One of the old men accompanied them, but he was left behind, as he could not walk as fast as the young men did. When he had reached a meadow high up the side of the mountain he heard a voice from the interior of the rocks saying: “Here is the man who killed all our friends.” When he looked up he saw a number of mountain goats above. He did not know how to reach them, since his legs were weak. He took two sticks and tied one to each of his legs in order to steady and to strengthen them. Thus he was enabled to climb. He reached the mountain goats and cut their necks. He killed thirty. Among these was a kid. He took out its tallow and put it on his head; he cut off its head and took it under his arm to carry it home. He had stayed away so long that his friends had given him up for lost. He told them of his adventure. He roasted the kid’s head and ate it. On the following morning he was dead.

THE FIGHT BETWEEN THE COYOTE PEOPLE AND THE BAT PEOPLE Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 222.

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The reason for the fight between the Coyotes and the Bats is Coyote precipitation of a battle under the guise of predicting it. The trickster, of course, survives. His concluding promise may be sincere, but it will never be kept. He is, after all, Coyote, and pacifism is against his nature.

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ne day Coyote said, “I hear there is going to be a big fight between the Coyote people and the Bat people. Let us go there!” He went, taking along many people. The fight began, and many were killed on both sides; but the Bat people were stronger, and Coyote’s side was beaten. He lost most of his relatives. Finally one old man said to Coyote, “I’ll tell you how you can kill the Bat people. Let them go back into the house tonight, and do not molest them! In the morning we shall return. Let every man arm himself with a stout stick. Thus we shall kill them.” Coyote agreed, and went home with those of his people who had not been killed. In the morning he returned to Bat’s house; and the old man told him, “Station your people by the door, and, as the Bats come out, hit them with the clubs!” Coyote did so, and all. The Bats were killed except one, who escaped. Coyote was very glad, and gave much money to the man who showed him how to overpower the Bat people. One of Coyote’s people, an old man, did not take part in the fight. When Coyote came home, that man scolded him, saying, “Now you see how many people were killed on account of you!” Coyote felt sorry, and replied, “All right! I won’t do it again.”

COYOTE AND THE STUMP-MAN Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 216–18.

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The Northwest | Coyote and the Stump-Man


Coyote plays his role of culture hero in the following myth by ridding the land of a monster. The monster is a carnivorous, ambulatory stump; therefore, like Coyote, he exists between categories. Unlike Coyote (in this myth at least), however, his motives are overtly destructive. The motif of a rope to climb to the heavens is a recurrent one in the tales of the Northwest Region.

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oyote was traveling all over the country. He came to a house in which there lived an old woman, and asked her, “Where have all the people gone?” The woman replied, “They went long ago over yonder hill, and have never returned. I am anxious about them.” Coyote decided to follow them and find out what kept them there. The old woman warned him that he might be killed, but he disregarded her warning and started out. He soon found a trail, which he followed until he reached its end. While looking around for another trail, he saw a stump. He seized his bow and shot at it. To his surprise, the stump kept on dodging the arrows, so that he missed it repeatedly. This convinced him that the stump was a person, and responsible for the disappearance of the people. He kept on shooting until all his arrows were gone, whereupon the stump assumed the form of a person, and began to pursue him. Coyote ran until he came to a big lake. In danger of being seized, he asked himself, “Do I die now?” An answer was given him, “No! Just jump into the water!” Coyote did so, but in turning around he stuck his nose out. The Stump-Man saw it, and said, “He is mine now! He cannot get away from me. I will rest a while.” Coyote heard everything, and kept still. After a while StumpMan got ready to pull him out; but, upon Coyote’s wish, the lake became full of fircones; so that whenever Stump-Man stuck his spear into the water, he pulled out nothing but fir-cones. After many useless attempts, Stump-Man gave it up and went to sleep. Pretty soon he began to spin around, rising gradually into the air. When he was about halfway up, Coyote shouted at him, “I am smart too! You could not catch me!” The Stump-Man arrived at the sky through an

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opening that Coyote saw. He went back to the old woman, and told her that he had found out where the people had gone. Then he assembled all the survivors, and asked them to suggest plans of reaching the sky. For five days they twisted a rope whereby to make the ascent. Coyote tried to go up first; but every time he reached halfway, the rope fell down. Similar attempts by other people proved of no avail. Finally Coyote pointed out to Bumblebee the place whence Stump-Man had started his journey to the sky. Bumblebee began to spin around from the same place, and rose until he disappeared into the sky. Pretty soon Bumblebee came back, and was asked by Coyote to tell what he had seen there. Bee, however, replied, “I am tired and want to rest.” Upon being urged, he related the following: “I came to the residence of Stump-Man. He was sound asleep and broken-hearted, because he had lost an opportunity of killing you.” Coyote wanted to know how they could get up there; and Bee said, “I can climb up myself, but cannot take up any one else. Suppose you try Spider.” Coyote laughed at this, saying, “Oh! He does not have a rope.” But the people insisted upon Spider making a trial. Spider arrived with a piece of rope, and began to spin. He rose slowly, and finally reached the sky. He made his rope fast there, and the people used it as a ladder. Coyote came last. They arrived at the house of Stump-Man, where they found a boy whose body consisted of flesh only, and who was eating all the people Stump-Man had killed. Upon seeing the new-comers, the boy tried to awaken Stump-Man; but he was sound asleep. Then Coyote and his friends set fire to Stump-Man’s house, while the boy looked on helplessly. The fire grew bigger, and the boy’s shouts became louder, until he burst, making the sound “Boom!” Soon the legs of Stump-Man caught fire. This woke him up, and he started to run; but, being deprived of the use of his feet, he died. All over the world it was announced that Coyote had killed the Bad Man. The people descended by means of Spider’s rope.

THE KILLING OF THE DUTCHMAN Tradition Bearer: James E. Twadell Source: Banister, Manly Andrew C. “Interview of James E. Twadell.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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The Northwest | The Killing of the Dutchman

Date: 1939 Original Source: Oregon National Origin: European American

Violence was an aspect of frontier life that came to be romanticized in the legends arising from the exploits of historically famous or notorious characters. Rather than resulting from a larger-than-life epic adventure, the following personal experience narrative tells of the murder of an ordinary man by another ordinary man, seen through the eyes of an ordinary boy.

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’m not a pioneer, but I come to this country in pretty early days, all right. I landed in the Grande Ronde Valley the nineteenth of September, 1865. I crossed the plains with my parents with an ox-team, starting from Missouri, on May 3rd, 1865, the year the Civil War closed. I was at the first Fourth of July Celebration ever held in the Grande Ronde Valley. That was at Uniontown in 1867, located in the south end of the valley, near the canyon that cuts through the mountain there going to Baker. I lived up there eleven years all told and saw six killings. Four men shot and two hung—the last two for killing a man and civil law took care of them. Of course there were lots more killings, but none that I saw with my own eyes. I recall there was a man name of Reed killed another man in a butcher shop. I was standing in the doorway at the time. He got away and killed another man later in Linn County when I was there. They caught him that time and hung him. Then there was a fellow named Martin that killed a Dutchman. The Dutchman had been working for Martin, and Martin owed him some wages. Well, the Dutchman asked for his money, and Martin said he didn’t have it, and got nasty with the Dutchman and said something or other—I don’t know what—and the Dutchman slapped him. That angered the old man and he drew himself up straight and told the Dutchman, “I’ll kill you before the sun sets tonight.” Then he turned around and walked away. He got on his horse and rode to Uniontown and there he began to liquor up. Now there was a little store down at Hendershott’s Point a little ways away, and the folks sent me down with some eggs to barter to get coffee. While I was at the store, a pack train came in and camped down by the creek where it bends around the point. Of course, the sight of a pack train was a great sight to me as

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it was to all the folks who had just come from the east. We had never seen nothing like it before. This Dutchman was there at the store, and he took my arm and said, “Come on, kid, let’s go down and see the pack train.” So we went down there and I sat down on a box or a chunk of wood or something, and the Dutchman, he squatted alongside and began to talk with one of the packers. I don’t know what we were talking about ... just passing the time of day, or talking about the pack train or something. Then the Dutchman looked up and saw old Martin coming down the trail. You could see he was drunk the way he staggered along over the rough ground. “There comes my boss now,” said the Dutchman. “He made me mad this morning and I slapped his face; then he threatened to kill me before sunset tonight.” The Dutchman kind of laughed, because evidently he wasn’t afraid of the old man and didn’t think he would carry out his threat. The old man come on down and walked up to the Dutchman squatting there. The Dutchman didn’t stand up, and Martin sort of swayed as he stood there, looking down at him, and there was a mean look on the old man’s face, and his eyes was bloodshot with the whiskey he had drunk. “Know what I told you this morning?” he said. “Yes, I do,” said the Dutchman, and grinned up at him. The old man didn’t say another word but drew his gun then and there shot him before he could move. The ball struck the Dutchman just below the left collar bone and come out above the right hip. Martin was sent to the penitentiary for life. Then there was another man, who lived in the cove where I did, shot and killed his brother-in-law over a bottle of whiskey. Cawhorn was the name of the man that was killed, but I didn’t see any of the doings.

THUNDER AND HIS SON-IN-LAW Tradition Bearer: Klamath Billie Source: Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 211–12. Date: 1900 Original Source: Shasta National Origin: Native American

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The Northwest | Thunder and His Son-in-Law

Polygyny (multiple wives)—especially sororal polygyny (marriage to two or more sisters)—was permitted among Northwest Coast Native American cultures. In fact, the only prohibiting factor in most instances was the husband’s wealth, since his resources needed to sustain a household composed of multiple wives and their children. The bestowal of a daughter as a wife often required the payment of “bride-price” to the new father-in-law. The test of the son-in-law story that follows may echo this practice. At any rate, the young man is saved by wit and preparation, without falling back on the deception that his father-in-law attempts to use to get rid of him.

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he Thunder had two daughters who were courted by many men. But he was mean, and tried to kill the suitors of his daughters. In vain the girls remonstrated with their father, telling him that they wanted a husband. One day a good-looking man arrived to court the girls. The girls told their father, and he asked to see the young man. The suitor was smart, and, as he went to see Thunder, he said to himself, “I wish the old man would like me!” Thunder looked at the young man, and said to his daughters, “I like him. He is the kind of man I have been looking for. Do you two take him for your husband!” So the girls married the young man. The next day Thunder said to his son-in-law, “I want to eat salmon. Go and spear some! You will find a big red salmon in the river. This is the one I want you to spear.” The young man took his spear and went to the river. He had a small brother whom he was in the habit of taking along everywhere. Pretty soon he saw a red salmon, and he said to his little brother, “You sit here and watch me spear this salmon.” He hit the salmon; but the salmon started down-stream, and the young man followed him. His brother waited for him all day, and at last gave him up as lost. The salmon took him all the way to the ocean, where the young man succeeded in hooking him. On the third day he returned and gave his father-in-law the salmon. Thunder was surprised, and said, “I’ll cook it outside.” He said this because he was mean and did not want to share the meat with any one else. Soon afterwards Thunder asked his son-in-law to go with him to the sweathouse. The young man consented, and Thunder said, “You go in first!” He did so, taking along a small stick. Pretty soon rattlesnakes came at him, but he killed them with his stick.

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He tied up the rattlesnakes and took them to his father-in-law. “Here,” he said to him, “I found these in the sweat-house.” Thunder said nothing. The next morning Thunder pointed out a cliff to his son-in-law, and asked him to fetch some bird-eggs from there. The cliff could be ascended by means of steps, which Thunder had made. The young man climbed up; but when he came to the top and looked down, the steps had disappeared, and there was nothing but a steep precipice. He thought, “Verily, I shall die now.” He stayed there five nights, and the girls gave him up as dead. Thunder was glad, because he was sure he had at last rid himself of his son-in-law. But the young man did not give up. He threw his stick down, and noticed that it fell down fast. Then he threw some lichens, and, behold! They were falling down slowly. So he picked all the lichens he could reach, (wove them into a mat,) sat down on it, and descended slowly with the eggs in his hands. He gave the eggs to his father-in-law, who said, “I’ll make a fire and boil them over there.” The next day Thunder invited his son-in-law to play spring-board with him. The young man consented, and they went in quest of a suitable log. Having found one, Thunder sat down near the butt-end, while the young man took a position near the spring-end. After a while he persuaded his father-in-law to sit at the very end, where-upon he jumped off suddenly, and the tree swung Thunder clear into the sky, where he has been staying ever since. The young man taunted his father-in-law.

WHEN RAVEN WANTED TO MARRY SNOWBIRD AND FLY WITH THE GEESE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 173–74. Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

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The Northwest | When Raven Wanted to Marry Snowbird and Fly with the Geese

Raven served as trickster and culture hero for both the Eskimo and for many other Native cultures along the Northwest Coast. Despite his gift of fire, the tales of Raven also depict him with the common flaws of trickster figures—in this case they include lying to satisfy his selfish impulses and intruding where his company is not wanted.

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small snowbird was crying because she had lost her husband. While she was crying, the raven, who had no wife, came along. When the raven reached her he said, “Why are you crying?” “I am crying for my husband, because he has been away so long a time,” said the snowbird. “My husband went out to look for food for me, and has not come back.” The raven told her that her husband was dead; that he had been sitting on a rock, when this became loosened and fell through the ice, and that he had fallen with it. “I will marry you,” he said. “You can sleep here under my armpit. Take me for a husband; I have a pretty bill; I have a pretty chin; I have good enough nostrils and eyes; my wings are good and large, and so are my whiskers.” But the little snowbird said, “I don’t want you for my husband.” Then the raven went away, because the snowbird did not want to marry him. After a while the raven, who was still without a wife, came to some geese who had become persons. The geese were just going away. The raven said, “I too, I who have no wife, I am going.” The geese, because they were about to leave, now became birds again. One of them said, “It is very far away that we are going. You had better not go with us. Don’t come with us.” The raven said, “I am not afraid to go. When I am tired, I shall sleep by whirling up.” Then they started, the raven going with them. They flew a great distance (having now become birds), passing over a large expanse of water, where there was no land to be seen. Finally, when the geese wanted to sleep, they settled and swam on the water, and there they went to sleep. The raven also grew very tired, and wanted to sleep, but of course could not swim. So he whirled upwards towards the sky. But as soon as he went to sleep, he began to drop from up there. When he fell into the water he woke up and said, “Get together, so that I can climb on your backs and go to sleep there.” The geese did as he told them, and he was soon asleep on their backs.

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Then one of the geese said, “He is not light at all. Let us shake him off, because he is so heavy.” Then they shook him off their backs into the water. “Get together,” cried the raven. But they did not do so, and thus the raven was drowned.

BLUE JAY AND HIS SISTER Tradition Bearer: Charles Cultee Source: Boas, Franz. Pages 158–82 in Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. Date: 1890–1891 Original Source: Chinook National Origin: Native American

Death among the Chinook is highly serious and hemmed in with ritual. Blue Jay’s behavior toward the dead goes to the extremes that only a trickster could conceive. He takes a dead wife, seeks out his sister who has married the chief of a village of the dead, and plays the practical joke of switching body parts on the corpses of his brother-in-law’s village. The living are also not safe from his absurd inversions of appropriate behavior. In a culture in which his older sister should be obeyed, he not only disobeys her, but he also deliberately misconstrues her orders.

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here were Blue Jay and his elder sister [Iô’i]. The latter went every day digging roots.

Once upon a time she said to her brother: “Make some arrows; the ducks, the geese, the tail-ducks always lick my buttocks.” “Yes, I will do so,” said Blue Jay. The next day she went again digging. Then Blue Jay made the arrows. When he had finished them he went and searched for his elder sister. When he came to the place Iô’i always dug roots he heard

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The Northwest | Blue Jay and His Sister

her scratching her anus. She looked back, turning her head over her shoulder. Now Blue Jay spanned his bow and shot her in her buttocks. “Anah, Squint-eye,” she said. She took away his bow and said: “These here are the birds,” and she shot them. She killed a male mallard duck, which was very fat. Then she said to her younger brother: “Go home, and when you get home give them the nose ornament to eat, keep for me only a stone and its rope.” “I will do so,” said Blue Jay. Iô’i had five children. He went home. Now he plucked the duck. He finished plucking it. Now he cut the fat of the duck and tied it to the noses of Iô’i’s children. He made a fire and said: “Go near the fire. Look into the fire in the middle of the house.” Now he put a stone aside; a stone of that size. Now they looked into the fire and the fat became warm. Then they licked it off. Iô’i went home. She opened the door and saw her children. Their faces had become flushed by the heat. Then she jumped into the house. The stone, which Blue Jay had put aside, hit her right on her forehead and she fell down. She lay there a long time; she recovered, arose, and said: “Anah, Squint-eye, what did I tell you? I told you to give them a little and to keep the stomach for me.” Then she took her children away from the fire. Blue Jay replied: “I thought so; why do you not speak plainly when you speak to me?” Another time Iô’i said to her brother. “Make me a canoe large enough for one leg.” “I will do so,” replied Blue Jay. Iô’i said: “When there are no roots here I shall always go to the other side when you have finished the canoe.” “I think so,” replied Blue Jay. Early next morning Blue Jay went and hollowed out a piece of cedar wood. He put his leg into the canoe to measure it and made it just as large as his leg. He finished the canoe and went to his sister. He said: “I have finished the canoe.” They carried it to the water and went to the canoe. When she saw it and noticed that it was just large enough for one leg she said: “Anah, Squint-eye, what did I tell you? I told you to make a canoe large enough for one man.” Blue Jay replied: “I thought so; why do you not speak plainly when you speak to me?” On the next day Blue Jay made a large canoe. It was good, large enough to carry one person. He brought it to his sister. After a while his sister said to him: “You ought to get married. Take a wife. She shall help me dig roots. But take a dead one.” “I will do so,” said Blue Jay. Now the daughter of the chief of a town had died. Blue Jay went to the grave at night and took her out. Early the next

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morning he landed and said to his elder sister. “Here, I bring the dead one ashore, as you told me.” “Anah, Squint-eye, I told you to bring an old one. Quick! Take her to the supernatural beings and ask them to cure your wife.” Now Blue Jay went. He cut off all his hair and began to cry. He went to the place where the supernatural beings lived. They heard somebody crying and went outside. They spoke: “Oh, see; that is poor Blue Jay who is crying there; perhaps his sister died.” But he cried all the time: “O, my wife; O, my wife.” “Perhaps his sister died, but he said his wife.” He landed and they tried to cure her. They asked him: “How long has she been dead?” He replied: “She died yesterday.” Then the supernatural beings said: “Then you must go to another town where they can cure those who have been dead one day.” Blue Jay said: “She died on the same day when I bought her.” He traveled on, and when he had gone some distance he lay down to sleep. On the next morning he went on and came to the town of the supernatural beings. They heard someone crying and went outside. They spoke: “Oh, see; that is poor Blue Jay who is crying there; perhaps his sister died.” But he always said his wife, died. Blue Jay landed and the supernatural people went down to meet him. He told them: “She died on the same day when I bought her. I bring her to you to cure her.” They looked at her and asked him: “When did she die?” He replied: “She died two days ago.” “Then you must carry her to another town where they know how to cure people who have been dead two days.” Then Blue Jay traveled on, and after he had gone a distance he lay down to sleep. Early the next morning he awoke and traveled on. After some time he reached a town, and the people heard him crying. They ran outside and said: “Oh, see; that is poor Blue Jay; perhaps his sister died.” He cried. He landed, and the supernatural people came down to meet him. Now the body of that woman was stinking. They asked him: “When did she die? “O,” he replied, “three days ago.” They took water and washed her face. Then they said: “You must carry her to another town where they know how to cure those who have been dead three days.” Blue Jay went on, and after some time he lay down to sleep. Early the next morning he started again, and reached the town of the supernatural people.

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They heard him crying and said: “Oh, that is poor Blue Jay who is crying there; perhaps his sister died.” But he always said his wife had died. He landed. “O, my wife has died.” They said to him: “When did she die?” “O,” he replied, “four days ago.” Now they washed the whole body and bathed her. The bad smell disappeared. They said: “Carry her to another town.” Blue Jay went. When he had gone some distance and had almost reached the town he lay down to sleep. Early the next morning he awoke and traveled on to the place of the supernatural beings. They heard somebody crying and went outside and said: “Oh, see; that is poor Blue Jay; perhaps his sister died.” He landed and the supernatural people went down. He said: “She died on the same day when I bought her.” “When did she die?” “Oh, five days ago.” They tried to cure her there on the beach. Her heart began to move and they carried her up to the house. There they continued to cure her. And Blue Jay’s wife resuscitated. Her hair was so long that it hung down below her buttocks. Now they brought Blue Jay into the house of the oldest one of the supernatural people, they worked over him and made his hair grow until it hung down to his thighs. They said to him: “Remain here; you shall do as we do. When a person has been dead five days you shall cure him.” Early the next morning the supernatural man arose. He sat down with Blue Jay and said: “Spit as far as you call.” Blue Jay tried to spit, but his saliva fell down nearby. Then the supernatural being spat, and his saliva struck the other side of the house. Five days Blue Jay tried, then he spat, and his saliva struck the other side of the house. Now he became a chief. He stayed there some time and then he became homesick. The supernatural people told him: “When you go home never give your hair in payment for a wife.” Blue Jay went home. He arrived at his elder sister’s house with his wife. The younger brother of the woman had grown up. One day he went some distance and reached Blue Jay’s house. He peeped into the house through a hole and he saw his elder sister sitting with Blue Jay. Blue Jay’s hair reached down to his thighs. The boy came home, but he did not tell anything. Early the next morning he went again to the house and peeped into it, and again he recognized his sister. Five times he went and then his elder sister saw him. She called him: “Come in, come in, brother.” He entered and she gave him to eat. Then the boy went home and said to his mother: “My elder sister is staying with Blue Jay.” The people took a stick and whipped him. He cried: “Indeed, indeed, she gave me to eat. She called me; I went into the house and she fed me.”

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Then the people went to the burial-ground and saw that she had disappeared. Only the canoe was there. They sent a young man to Blue Jay’s house, and, indeed, there was the chief’s daughter. Then the chief said: “Go to Blue Jay and tell him that he must give me his hair in payment for his wife.” The messengers went and said to Blue Jay: “The chief wants your hair.” Blue Jay did not reply. Five times they spoke to him. Then the chief said to his people: “Let us go, we will take her back.” Now the people went. They took hold of her, one at each arm. They put her on her feet and dragged her out of the house. Then Blue Jay began to fly. He became a Blue Jay and flew away. The, woman collapsed right there. Then they called him: “Blue Jay, come back, she shall be your wife.” But he did not return. Now they buried her again. She had died again. * * * here were Blue Jay and Iô’i. One night the ghosts when out to buy a wife. They bought Iô’i. Her family kept the dentalia that they had given and at night they were married. On the following morning Iô’i had disappeared. Blue Jay stayed at home for a year, then he said: “I shall go and search for my sister.” He asked all the trees: “Where do people go when they die?” He asked all the birds, but they did not tell him. Then he asked an old wedge. It said: “Pay me, and I shall carry you there.” Then he paid it, and it carried him to the ghosts. The wedge and Blue Jay arrived near a large town. There was no smoke rising from the houses. Only from the last house, which was very large, they saw smoke rising. Blue Jay entered this house and found his elder sister. “Ah, my brother,” said she, “where do you come from? Have you died?” “Oh, no, I am not dead. The wedge brought me hither on his back.” Then he went and opened all those houses. They were full of bones. A skull and bones lay near his sister. “What are you doing with these bones and this skull?” asked Blue Jay. His sister replied: “That is your brother-in-law; that is your brother-in-law.” “Pshaw! Iô’i is lying all the time. She says a skull is my brother-in-law!” When it grew dark the people arose and the house was quite full. It was ten fathoms long. Then he said to his sister: “Where did these people come from?” She replied: “Do you think they are people? They are ghosts.” He stayed with his sister a long time. She said to him: “Do as they do and go fishing with your dipnet.”

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“I think I will do so,” replied he. When it grew dark he made himself ready. A boy whom he was to accompany made himself ready also. Those people always spoke in whispers. He did not understand them. His elder sister said to him; “You will go with that boy; he is one of your brother-in-law’s relations.” She continued: “Do not speak to him, but keep quiet.” Now they started. They almost reached a number of people who went down the river singing in their canoes. Then Blue Jay joined their song. They became quiet at once. Blue Jay looked back and saw that in place of the boy there were only bones in the stern of his canoe. They continued to go down the river and Blue Jay was quiet. Then he looked back towards the stern of the canoe. The boy was sitting there again. He said to him in a low voice: “Where is your weir?” He spoke slowly. The boy replied: “It is down the river.” They went on. Then he said to him in a loud voice: “Where is your weir?” And only a skeleton was in the stern of the canoe. Blue Jay was again silent. He looked back and the boy was sitting again in the canoe. Then he said again in a low voice: “Where is your weir?” “Here,” replied the boy. Now they fished with their dipnets. Blue Jay felt something in his net. He lifted it and found only two branches in his net. He turned his net and threw them into the water. After a short while he put his net again into the water. It became full of leaves. He turned his net and threw them into the water, but part of the leaves fell into the canoe. The boy gathered them up. Then another branch came into Blue Jay’s net. He turned his net and threw it into the water. Some leaves came into it and he threw them into the water. Part of the leaves fell into the canoe. The boy gathered them up. Blue Jay was pleased with two of the branches, which had caught in his net. He thought: “I will carry them to Iô’i. She may use them for making fire.” These branches were large. They arrived at home and went up to the house. Blue Jay was angry, because he had not caught anything. The boy brought a mat full of trout up to the house and the people roasted them. Then the boy told them: “He threw out of the canoe what we had caught. Our canoe would have been full if he had not thrown it away.” His sister said to him: “Why did you throw away what you had caught?” “I threw it away because we had nothing but branches.” “That is our food,” she replied. “Do you think they were branches? The leaves were trout, the branches fall salmon.” He said to his sister: “I brought you two branches, you may use them for making fire.” Then his sister went down to the beach. Now there were two fallsalmon in the canoe. She carried them up to the house and entered carrying

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them in her hands. Blue Jay said, to his elder sister: “Where did you steal these fall salmon!” She replied: “That is what you caught.” “Iô’i is always lying.” On the next day Blue Jay went to the beach. There lay the canoes of the ghosts. They had all holes and parts of them were moss-grown. He went up to the house and said to his sister: “How bad are your husband’s canoes, Iô’i.” “Oh, be quiet,” said she; “the people will become tired of you.” “The canoes of these people are full of holes.” Then his sister said to him: “Are they people? Are they people? They are ghosts.” It grew dark again and Blue Jay made himself ready. The boy made himself ready also. They went again. Now he teased the boy. When they were on their way he shouted, and only bones were there. Thus he did several times until finally they arrived. Now they fished with their dipnets. He gathered the branches and leaves, which they caught, and when the ebb-tide set in their canoe was full. Then they went home. Now he teased the ghosts. He shouted as soon as they met one, and only bones were in the canoe. They arrived at home. He went up to his sister. She carried up what he had caught; in part fall salmon, in part silver-side salmon. On the next morning Blue Jay went into the town. He found many bones in the houses. When it grew dark somebody said: “Ah, a whale has been found.” His sister gave him a knife and said to him: “Run! A whale has been found.” Blue Jay ran and came to the beach. He met one of the people whom he asked, speaking loudly: “Where is that whale?” Only a skeleton lay there. He kicked the skull and left it. He ran some distance and met other people. He shouted loudly. Only skeletons lay there. Several times he acted this way toward the people. Then he came to a large log. Its bark was perhaps that thick. There was a crowd of people who peeled off the bark. Blue Jay shouted and only skeletons lay there. The bark was full of pitch. He peeled off two pieces, I do not know how large. He carried them on his shoulder and went home. He thought: “I really believed it was a whale, and, behold, it is a fir.” He went home. When he arrived he threw down the bark outside the house. He entered and said to his sister: “I really thought it was a whale. Look here, it is bark.” His sister said: “It is whale meat, it is whale meat; do you think it is bark?” His sister went out and two cuts of whale lay on the ground. Iô’i said: “It is a good whale; its blubber is very thick.” Blue Jay looked. A whale lay on the beach. Then he turned back. He met a person carrying bark on his back. He shouted and nothing but a skeleton lay there. He took that piece of bark and

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carried it home on his shoulder. He came home. Thus he did to the ghosts. In course of time he had much whale meat. Now he continued to stay there. He went again to that town. He entered a house and took a child’s skull, which he put on a large skeleton. And he took a large skull, which he put on that child’s skeleton. Thus he did to all the people. When it grew dark the child rose to its feet. It wanted to sit up, but it fell down again because its head pulled it down. The old man arose. His head was light. The next morning he replaced the heads. Sometimes he did thus to the legs of the ghosts. He gave small legs to an old man, and large legs to a child. Sometimes he exchanged a man’s and a woman’s legs. In course of time they began to dislike him. Iô’i’s husband said: “These people dislike him, because he mistreats them. Tell him he shall go home. These people do not like him.” Iô’i tried to stop her younger brother. But he did not follow her. On the next morning he awoke early. Now Iô’i held a skull in her arms. He threw it away: “Why do you hold that skull again, Iô’i?” “Ah, you broke your brother-in-law’s neck.” It grew dark. Now his brotherin-law was sick. A man tried to cure him and he became well again. Now Blue Jay went home. His sister gave him five buckets full of water and said: “Take care! When you come to burning prairies, do not pour it out until you come to the fourth prairie. Then pour it out.” “I think so,” replied Blue Jay. Now he went home. He reached a prairie. It was hot. Red flowers bloomed on the prairie. Then he poured water on the prairie and one of his buckets was half empty. He reached the woods and soon he came to a prairie, which was burning at its end. He reached another prairie, which was half on fire. “That is what my sister spoke about.” He poured out on his road the rest of the bucket. He took another bucket and when it was half empty he reached the woods on the other side of the prairie. He reached still another prairie, the third one. One half of it burned strongly. He took one of his buckets and emptied it. He took one more bucket and emptied one-half of it. Then he reached the woods on the other side of the prairie. Now he had only two buckets and a half left. He reached another prairie, which was almost totally on fire. He took that half bucket and emptied it. He took one more bucket and when he reached the woods at the other side of the prairie he had emptied it. Now only one bucket was left. He reached another prairie, which was all over on fire. He poured out his bucket. When he had come nearly across he had emptied his bucket. He took

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off his bearskin blanket and beat the fire. The whole bearskin blanket was burnt. Then his head and his hair caught fire and he was burnt. Now Blue Jay was dead. When it was just growing dark he came to his sister. “Kukukukukuku, Iô’i,” he said. His sister cried: “Ah, my brother is dead.” His trail led to the water on the other side of the river. She launched her canoe and went to fetch him. She reached him. Iô’i’s canoe was pretty. She said to him: “And you said that canoe was moss-grown.” “Ah, Iô’i is always telling lies. The other ones had holes and were mossgrown.” She said to him: “You are dead now, therefore you see them differently.” “Iô’i is always telling lies.” Now she carried her brother across to the other side. He saw the people. They sang, they gambled, they played dice with beaver teeth; they played hoops; they played dice with ten disks. Farther in the town they sang conjurers’ songs. Blue Jay heard them. They were dancing, kumm, kumm, kumm, kumm. He wanted to go to these singers. He tried to sing and to shout, but he was laughed at. He went and tried to shout but they all laughed at him. Then he entered his brother-in-law’s house. There was a chief; Iô’i’s husband was good looking. She said: “And you broke his neck.” “Iô’i is always telling lies. Whence came these canoes? They are pretty.” “And you said they were moss-grown.” “Iô’i is always telling lies. The others had all holes. Part of them were mossgrown.” “You are dead now, therefore you see everything differently,” said his sister. “Iô’i is always telling lies.” He tried to shout at the people, but they laughed at him. Then he gave it up and became quiet. His sister forgot him for a moment. When she went to look for him, he stood near the dancers. After five nights he entered their house. His sister opened the door and saw him dancing on his head, his legs upward. She turned back and cried. Now he had again really died. He had died a second time. * * * here were Blue Jay and his elder sister Iô’i. “Let us go visiting, Iô’i,” he said to his sister. “Let us visit the Magpie.”

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Early the next morning they went. They came near his house and saw him on the roof. They landed and went up to the house. Then they saw Magpie on his house. After a little while he swept his house and found one salmon egg. He put it into his topknot, made a fire, and heated some stones. When they were hot he took a kettle, poured water into it, and threw the dry salmon egg into the

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kettle; then he boiled it. The kettle came to be full of salmon eggs. He placed it before Blue Jay and his sister and they ate. When they had half emptied the kettle they were satiated. They carried away what was left and started to go home. Iô’i said to her brother: “Let us go to the beach; you go down first.” Blue Jay said: “You go first down to the beach.” His sister went down. Then Blue Jay said to Magpie: “Come to-morrow and fetch your kettle.” Magpie said: “I shall go.” Then Blue Jay and his sister went home. Early in the morning Blue Jay made a fire and went up to the roof of his house, where he stayed. After awhile he said to his elder sister: “A canoe is coming.” She replied: “It comes because you told him to come.” Now Magpie landed and went up to the house. Blue Jay arose and swept his house. He found a salmon egg. He put it into his top-knot. He finished sweeping his house and he heated stones. When they were hot he took his kettle and poured water into it. He took that salmon egg and threw it into the water. Then he threw the hot stones into the kettle and the water began to boil. Then he covered it. He imitated all Magpie had done. After awhile he uncovered it, but nothing was in the kettle. “Blue Jay can do only one thing,” said Magpie. He took the stones and threw them out of the kettle. He threw one dry salmon egg and hot stones into the kettle. When the water began to boil he covered it and when he uncovered it the kettle was quite full of salmon eggs. Then Magpie left them and went home. After several days Blue Jay and his sister became hungry. “Let us go and visit the Ducks,” said Blue Jay. “To-morrow we will go,” said Iô’i. The latter had five children. On the following morning they started and went visiting. After awhile they landed at the beach of the Duck. They came up to the house. The Duck said to her five children: “Go and wash yourselves.” They went to the water and washed themselves. They dived. Soon they emerged again, each carrying a trout. Ten times they dived and their mat became full of trout. They went up to the house, made a fire, and roasted them. Then they gave Blue Jay and his sister to eat. Now the fish that they were roasting were done. They fed Blue Jay, and he and his sister ate. They ate part and were satiated. Iô’i said to her brother: “You go down first, else you will talk ever so much.” He replied to his sister: “Ah, you would always like to stay here, you go down first.” His sister went down first and as soon as she had left he said to the Duck: “Come to my house tomorrow and get your mat.” Now Blue Jay went down to the beach. The Duck said: “We shall all go to-morrow.” Then they went home.

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They arrived at home. Early the next morning Blue Jay arose and went up to the roof of the house. He said to his sister: “A canoe is coming.” She remarked: “It comes because you invited them.” Then the Duck landed with her five children and went up to the house. After awhile Blue Jay said to his sister’s children: “Go and wash yourselves.” Then Blue Jay and his sister’s children went down to the beach. They tried to dive, but their backs remained over water. Ten times they dived and were almost dead with cold. They came up to the house empty-handed. “Blue JayJay does one thing only,” said the Duck. She told her children: “Go and wash yourselves. We will give them food.” The Duck’s children went down to the beach and washed themselves. They dived ten times and their mat was full. They went up to the house. “That trout is thrown at your feet.” Now the Ducks went home. After a number of days Blue Jay and his sister became again hungry. “Let us go and visit the Black Bear,” he said. The next morning they went. They arrived at the Bear’s house. The Bear heated stones. Blue Jay said to his sister: “What may he give us to eat, Iô’i?” When the stones were hot the Bear sharpened his knife and cut his feet here all around the sole and cut his thigh. Then he rubbed over the wounds, and they were heated. Then he cut the flesh, which he had cut from his feet and from his body, into small pieces and boiled it. When it was done, he placed it before them, and after a little while they were satiated. Iô’i said to her brother: You go down first, else you will talk ever so much.” Blue Jay said: “You go down first.” His sister went, and then Blue Jay said: “Come to-morrow and fetch your mat.” Then he went home with his sister. They came home. Early the next morning Blue Jay arose and made a fire. He went up to the roof of his house. He said to his sister: “A canoe is coming.” And she replied: “It comes because you invited him.” Then the bear landed and came up to the house. Blue Jay heated stones, and when they were hot he sharpened his knife and cut his feet. He fainted right away. They blew on him until he recovered. The Bear said: “You can do only one thing, Blue Jay.” The Bear took his foot and slowly cut it. He cut his thigh. Then he cut the flesh into small pieces. He boiled it. When he had finished cooking and it was done he threw it before them and went home. Blue Jay’s feet were sore.

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After several days they again got hungry. Then Blue Jay said to his elder sister: “To-morrow we will go and visit the Beaver.” Early in the morning they started to visit him, and they arrived at the Beaver’s house. The Beaver was in his house. After a little while he went out and carried willows into the house, which he placed before them. He took a dish and went out. Then he carried it back filled with mud. Blue Jay and his sister could not eat it and started to go home. As they set out homeward his elder sister said to him: “You go down first else you will talk ever so much.” Blue Jay said to his elder sister: “You go down first.” She went to the beach first. Then Blue Jay said: “Come to my house tomorrow to fetch your dish.” The Beaver replied: “I will come tomorrow.” Early the next morning Blue Jay made a fire and went up to the roof of his house. He said to his sister: “A canoe is coming.” “It comes because you told him to come.” The Beaver landed and entered the house. Blue Jay went out and when he had been away a little while he brought that many willows. He threw them before the Beaver, who began to gnaw and ate them all. Then Blue Jay ran to the beach. He went to get some mud, which he put before the Beaver. He ate it all and went home. Blue Jay said again to his sister: “Tomorrow we will go and visit the Seal.” On the next morning they started and arrived at the house of the Seal, who had five children. The Seal said to her young ones: “Go to the beach and lie down there.” They went and lay down at the edge of the water. The Seal took a stick and went down. When she reached her children she struck the youngest one upon its head. The others dived and when they came up again they were again five. Then she pulled up to the house the one that she had killed. She singed it. When she had finished singeing it she cut it. Its blubber was three fingers thick. She boiled it and when it was done she gave it to Blue Jay and his sister. Soon they had enough. Then Iô’i said to her brother: “You go down first.” He replied: “You go down first, else you will always want to stay where they give its food.” He said: “Go to the beach.” His elder sister went to the beach. Then Blue Jay said to the Seal: “Come to-morrow and fetch your kettle.” “I shall come,” replied the Seal. They went home. Early next morning Blue Jay made a fire and went up to the roof of his house. He said to his elder sister: “A canoe is coming.” She replied: “It comes because you invited him.” The canoe came ashore. The Seal and her children landed and they came up to the house.

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Then Blue Jay said to Iô’i’s children: “Go to the beach and lie down there.” Then Iô’i’s children went and lay down at the edge of the water. Blue Jay took a stick. He went down and struck the youngest one; he struck it twice and it lay there dead. Then he said to the other children: “Quick, dive!” They dived, and when they came up again one was missing. Five times they dived, but the one that was struck remained dead. The Seal said: “Blue Jay knows to do one thing only.” She struck one of her daughters and said: “Quick; dive!” And when they came up again all five of them were there. She singed her daughter. When she had finished singeing her she cut her and threw her down before Blue Jay and his sister, saying: “You may eat this.” Then they tied up and buried the dead child of Iô’i, and the Seal went home. After a while they got hungry again. “Let us go and visit the shadows.” “Tomorrow we will go.” Early next morning they started and arrived at the house of the shadows. They went up to the house. The house was full of provisions, and on the bed there were large dentalia. There were coats, blankets of deer skin, of mountain goat, and of ground-hog. Blue Jay said: “Where may these people be?” His elder sister replied: “Here they are, but you can not see them.” Blue Jay took up one of the large dentalia. “Ahahaha, my ear, Blue Jay,” cried a person. They heard many people tittering. He took up a ground-hog blanket and pulled at it. “Ahahaha, my ground-hog blanket, Blue Jay.” He searched under the bed for the person who had spoken and again the people tittered. He took up a coat of mountain-goat wool. The person cried, “Why do you lift my coat, Blue Jay?” He took a nose ornament and the person cried: “Ahahaha, my nose-ornament, Blue Jay.” Then a basket fell down from above. He took it and put it back. Then a salmon roe fell down. He put it back, and again he searched under the bed for persons. Then, again, the people tittered and laughed at him. His sister said to him: “Stay here quietly. Why should they be called shadows if they would not act as they do?” They looked around. There was salmon roe put up in a bag for winter use, and they ate it. Blue Jay said again: “Where may these people be?” His elder sister replied: “Here they are, here they are; but you do not see them.” When it got dark Blue Jay said: “We will sleep here.” Now they slept during the night. Blue Jay awoke and went out. He tried to urinate standing. It ran down his legs. Blue Jay’s elder sister went out. She sat down on the ground and urinated. There stood her urine. Blue Jay spread his legs: “Look here, Iô’i, what became of me!”

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The Northwest | Robin and Blue Jay

He pulled his groins and his sister cried much. “Ahahaha, that hurts me, Squint-eye!” “Is it Iô’i’s body, and it hurts her?” After some time she took revenge upon him. She pulled the penis; “Anah,” cried Blue Jay, “it hurts me Iô’i.” “Is it his body, and he feels sick?” Then they went to sleep again. Blue Jay awoke early. Then he was a man again as before. His elder sister awoke. Now she was again a woman as before. She was well again. Thus they took revenge on Blue Jay, because he had teased the people. “Let us go, else they will tease us again,” said Blue Jay. His sister replied: “You did not believe me and they teased us.” Then Blue Jay went home. He arrived at home. His sister said: “Now we have gone visiting enough.”

ROBIN AND BLUE JAY Tradition Bearer: Charles Cultee Source: Boas, Franz. Pages 151–52 in Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. Date: 1890–1891 Original Source: Chinook National Origin: Native American

Blue Jay confines his antics as trickster primarily to deceiving the sleeper fish and dominating an elder brother, which violates Chinook norms, as well as those of the general Native Northwest Coast. Most of this narrative, though, is devoted to Blue Jay demonstrating his powers of supernatural sight and healing.

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here were Blue Jay and Robin. Once upon a time they were hungry. Blue Jay said: “Make yourself ready, Robin.” And they went to the sea where a slough was left by the receding tide. They were in their canoe.

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Blue Jay called: “Come ashore, sleeper!” [name of a large fish]. The sleeper shouted in reply, but it was far away from the shore. Blue Jay called again: “Why do you stay far from the, shore? Only the heron can carry food to you if you stay that far from the shore.” Again the sleeper shouted; he was nearer the shore now. Blue Jay repeated: “Why do you stay far from the shore? Only the heron can carry food to you if you stay that far from the shore.” Blue Jay called him five times; then he came ashore. Blue Jay speared him and he and his brother went home after they had thrown the fish into their canoe. They reached their home and went ashore. Blue Jay said to his brother, “Make a fire.” Robin made a fire. Blue Jay went and carried the fish up to the house. He cut it and Robin said: “I will have its tail, I will have its breast, I will have its head.” Then Blue Jay became angry: “You want to have everything for yourself; the Q!tê’nse [imaginary tribe] are going to eat what at has been killed for you.” Then Robin cried; he took his work and left the house. He cried outside. Blue Jay finished cutting the fish. Then he called his elder brother and said: “Come in, come in, you poor one, you shall have the breast, you shall have the head, you shall have the tail.” Then Robin came in. When the fish was roasted they began to eat. After some time Blue Jay dreamed, and he said to his elder brother, “Robin, I dreamed people sent for us; I was to cure a sick person.” After some time people came in a canoe, wailing. When they had almost reached the shore they (Robin and Blue Jay) recognized the duck. She landed and said to Blue Jay: “O, your brother-in-law is choking. I came to fetch you; you shall cure him.” Blue Jay replied: “We shall go.” They made themselves ready to go. They went, and he said to his elder brother: “Robin, you must say, ‘She shall give us in payment one lake and one-half of another lake.’ Thus you must say when I cure her.” Robin said: “All right.” They landed. The duck’s husband was breathing heavily. Now Blue Jay began to cure him and Robin sang: “You shall pay us both sides of one lake and one side of another lake.” One of the ducks who sat at some distance sang differently: “One side shall be yours, my nephews.” Then Blue Jay took out the morsel that was choking the duck and made him well. He recovered. Now Robin and his brother dug roots on the place that they had received in payment. They gathered two canoes full and went home. They arrived at

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The Northwest | The Beaver and the Woodrat

home. They carried their roots up to the house. They stayed there for some time. They ate all their roots. Then Blue Jay dreamed again. He said to his elder brother: “Robin, I dreamed that people sent for us; I was to cure a sick person.” In the afternoon they saw a canoe coming; two persons were in it. They landed and two young men came up to the house. They were the young wolves. They said to Blue Jay: “We come to call you; a girl of our family is choking.” Blue Jay replied: “We shall go.” After some time he and his brother made themselves ready, and he said to his elder brother: “When I cure her you must point to the largest basket and say, ‘There is the spirit of the disease.’” “All right,” replied Robin. They landed, and when they came to the house the girl was almost suffocated. Then Blue Jay began to cure her. He sang: “What is it that is in this girl? Her throat is all twisted up.” Then Robin said, pointing to the largest basket: “It is in that large basket.” The wolves took it down and placed it near Robin. Robin continued to do so, and pointed to all the large baskets. Then Blue Jay took out what had choked the girl; it was the kneepan of an elk. Then they gave them in payment two canoes full of meat and grease. They went home and now they were satisfied and carried the meat up to the house. Their house became full.

THE BEAVER AND THE WOODRAT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Gatschet, Albert S. “Oregonian Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 139–40. Date: 1891 Original Source: Modoc National Origin: Native American

The wood rat, in Modoc oral tradition, is a trouble-maker—quarrelsome and vicious. In other tales, he initiates arguments with his neighbors— such as cottontail rabbit—for no apparent reason. He then ambushes, kills, and sometimes eats them. Beaver’s retaliation here, then, undoubtedly would bring satisfaction to the original Native American audiences.

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beaver rowed a dug-out canoe, and had two young going with him. A wood rat came up to him, asking what was the news.

“I cannot tell you any news, but you can; tell me quick what you know!” the beaver replied. Then the wood rat said, “The rat was married to his mother, they say; that’s the kind of news I know!” Then the rat went away to watch the canoe upon an ambush; it then attacked and shot at the canoe, and when it was upset it saved the two young beavers, while the old one plunged to the bottom of the lake. Then the wood rat went straight home and hid itself in its mother’s lodge, to avoid the beaver’s wrath. But when the beaver arrived, he discovered the rat and inquired of him, “Whither did you flee?” “Why do you want to know? I went to get a neck-lace of beads to present to you,” replied the rat. The beaver took the beads and indignantly threw them into the fire. Upon this the wood rat attacked him, and told its mother to make an open space in the midst of the camp-fire to throw the beaver into. “I am going to throw the beaver into the fire; when he is there, cover him up with earth!” But things went off differently, for the beaver seized both the rat and his mother, and threw them into the fire. “Utututu!” cried the rat in the fire,” so it whirled about in the fire, while its hair and flesh was singed. The beaver then apostrophized it for its meanness, “I did not come to see you here for a mere child’s play; you get a painful punishment now, and the Indians would certainly scoff at you if they could see where you are now. After your body is charred up, the people would not like to have a smell of you, and would call you simply the ‘stinking one,’ you miserable fellow, you who own nothing but a house of sticks, and are of no account!” Hereupon the beaver set fire to the wooden lodge of the rat and its mother, took his two young under his arms, and went home. So far goes the story.

THE STORY OF SKUNK Tradition Bearer: Thomas Jackson Source: Frachtenberg, Leo J. “Myths of the Alsea Indians of Northwestern Oregon.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1917): 65–69.

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The Northwest | The Story of Skunk

Date: 1910 Original Source: Alsea National Origin: Native American

The Alsea were a wealthy maritime culture whose members lived on the coasts and riverbanks of Oregon. Their seal hunting brought them wealth, accumulated through the dentalia shells used as currency and through slaves. “The Story of Skunk” was transcribed in English that imitated as closely as possible the indigenous style of performance. Although the archaic English and five-part repetition may prove difficult for modern readers, it is comparable to the European folktale with its descriptive conventions and three-part plot structures.

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nce there were five brothers. They were traveling all over the world. They did not travel long, when they came upon a person (Skunk). “Oh, dost thou live here, old man?” “Yes, here is my place, here I grew into a man. Where are you going now?” “We are not going anywhere. We just travel to look over the people everywhere.” “And have you seen any people already?” “No.” “If you want to look at people, I will constantly go with you where the people come together.” “All right, this our eldest brother will go with thee first.” And then, indeed, they two started. They two were not going long, when they two rested. Then they two started again. And now Skunk began to try repeatedly his own power. He was constantly looking back at the man who followed him. “Thou shalt follow right behind me, thou shan’t be dodging here and there.” Then, indeed, he would do it. And Skunk would just open his anus. Then again they two would take a rest. Once more they two would start, but just similarly it would happen. At last they two started out for the fifth time. “We two are now about to arrive at where there are many people. Thou shalt always follow me close behind.” And then, indeed, the man did it, whereupon Skunk broke wind at him suddenly. He killed him, and dragged him to one side.

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He turned back and went home. And then, when he came home, he was asked, “Where is our oldest brother?” “Oh, he remained at the place to which we two came. Those people there are doing all sorts of things—they play shinny-ball, they throw spears through hoops, they play the guessing-game—all sorts of things are done by them.” “Oh, all right, we shall go together.” “You will come with me one at a time.” “All right, I will go with him.” And then, verily, they two went. They two did not go long, when they two took a rest. Then they two started out again, but soon the same thing would happen as before. For the fifth time they two started out again, whereupon Skunk once more broke wind at him suddenly. Again he carried him to one side, and went back home once more. Then he arrived home again. “Oh, didst thou come back?” “Yes, I came back alone.” “And where are they two?” “Oh, they two remained there. All sorts of things are done at where we two came.” “All right, art thou going back again?” “Yes, I am going back once more.” “May I go with thee?” “Certainly, we two shall go.” Then they two, verily, started out. They two did not go long, when they two took a rest and sat down. “Let me have this thy bow. He is referring to Skunk’s deadly anus!” Then, indeed, he gave it to him. The man began to examine it. “Thy bow is good.” “Yes, I have inherited it,” said Skunk. The man tried it several times, he pulled it a little. “Hey! Do not pull it hard, it is my heirloom. It is the bow of my father’s father.” Again they two started out. The same thing was done as before. Finally, after their fifth start, Skunk said to him several times, “Keep thou right behind me! Thou shalt not dodge back and forth; because, if thou keepest on dodging here and there, perchance somebody will hurt thee.” Then the man did it, indeed. Thereupon again he quickly broke wind at him, after which he went home once more. And then, when he came back, he told the two remaining brothers, “I left them behind.” “All right, art thou going back again?” “Yes, I am going back.” Then they two (Skunk and the fourth brother) went back again. They two did not go long, when they two took a rest. “Let me have thy bow!” So he gave him his bow.

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The Northwest | The Story of Skunk

“Verily, thy bow is good.” “Yes, it is my heirloom.” Then the boy began to pull its string. “Hey! Do not pull it hard!” Nevertheless he kept on pulling it harder. “Hey! Do not pull it hard! Thou wilt spoil it. It is my heirloom, it is the bow of my father’s father and also of my father.” Then they two started out again. “Keep right behind me! Thou shalt not twist thyself here and there.” He looked back at him once in a while. “Hey! Thou art twisting thyself here. Follow close behind me, follow close behind me, follow close behind me!” Then the boy walked right behind him, although his anus was all the time repulsive to his sense of smell. Skunk was continually opening his anus. Finally, after their fifth start, Skunk did the same thing as before. He kept on saying, “Keep right behind me! Thou shalt not dodge here and there.” Then at last he again broke wind at him suddenly. The boy died. Then he went home. And when he came back, he was asked by the last brother, “Where are thy former companions?” “Oh, I left them behind. They refused to come home. All sorts of things are done there—shinny-playing, guessing, running, wrestling, throwing spears through hoops.” “All right, wilt thou go back?” “Yes, I am going back once more.” “All right, I will go back with thee.” Then, verily, they two went. They two did not go long, when they two took a rest. “Let me have this thy bow!” said the young man. Thereupon, indeed, Skunk gave it to him. So then he tried to pull it. “Hey! Do thou not pull it hard! Thou wilt break my ancient heirloom, the thing that was left to me. This is the bow of my father’s father, and then of his father.” “Now, verily, thy bow is good.” Again he would begin to pull it. “Hey! Do thou not pull it hard! Thou wilt break it, per-chance.” Again they two started out. Once more then similarly it was done thus. Then they two would start out again. “Follow me close right behind, perchance somebody might hurt thee.” Nevertheless, the young man would not do this; he just kept ongoing alongside of him. “Hey! Thou art not walking behind me. Keep right behind me!” Then the boy would pretend to walk behind him, whereupon Skunk began to open his anus. At the fifth time they two rested again. “Let me see this thy bow! I am going to carry thy bow.” “No. Thou mayst not know what to do with it. Thou art young yet.”

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Finally the boy persuaded Skunk to part with his bow. And then he began to pull it again. He would pull it quickly just a little. “Hey! Do thou not pull it! Hey! Do thou not pull it!” He pulled it a little harder. “Hey do not pull it! Give me back my bow!” “No! Thou shalt first give me back my elder brothers, then I will return to thee thy bow.” “All right, but give me back my bow!” “No! First bring back here my elder brothers, then I will return to thee thy bow.” “All right.” Then, indeed, he went. He was not absent long, when they all came back. He brought them all back. “Here are thy elder brothers.” “Is this here thy bow?” “Yes.” “Hm! No, my friend! It is thy anus, not thy bow.” So he began to pull it. Only this much was necessary. As he kept on pulling it, Skunk just whined all the time. Finally his bow broke. Then Skunk just straightened out again, and died. Only now the story ends.

BIG FRED Tradition Bearer: Fred Roys Source: Walden, Wayne. “Interview of Fred Roys.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Northwest National Origin: European American

The following group of narratives is intended to represent the style and repertoire of a Northwestern logging camp raconteur. Invoking the name of Paul Bunyan seems to set the first story up as a tall tale, but it quickly becomes fiction best characterized as comic anecdote. This narrative comments on the bosses of the camps in which Big Fred worked

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“in the old days.” The tale then transitions into Big Fred’s personal experience narrative, finally concluding with the expected tall tale.

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ig Fred and several others were indulging in reminiscences of by-gone times. The talk was of the Northwest logging camps, and Big Fred, a former lumberjack, was doing most of the talking. Despite his years, Big Fred seems still capable of bucking big logs and, more certain, possesses the faculty of telling tales, the veracity of which may be questioned. Fred claims that years ago he sometimes “chased around with Paul Bunyan,” that Paul “wasn’t a bad plug,” that modern phases of the lumber industry require more up-to-date methods. “Paul Bunyan was all right in his time, but he didn’t have the big shots of today to deal with—and he never was able to get rid of the crumbs. It was the Wobblies—and you got to give ’em credit for it—that really done something about the crumbs. That was one of their big fights. “In Bunyan’s day the camps was crummy, the bunks was crummy, and the men wus so used to being crummy that they wouldn’t of knowed what to do without ’em. After the Wobs begun to have some say-so on the jobs they begun to holler for clean bedding, and that sort of put the skids under the crumbs—a lot of ’em anyway. “A crumb is what you’d call a louse,” said Big Fred, with a tone of pity, for one so ignorant as I seemed to be. “They was called ‘cooties’ by the soldiers during the war, but they’re the same thing; we always called ’em crumbs. Anyhow—as I was going to say—one time when one of the big shots come out to look things over, he stuck his head in one of the bunk-house doors. Before he could duck back again he heard a bunch of voices yelling at him, ‘Hello Brother’. It kinda puzzled him. After a while, when he seen that the crumbs were coming to meet him, and was actually calling him their brother, the boss got mad. He figured that that was an insult to his dignity, you see. “‘What do you mean by calling me your brother?’ he says to them. ‘Well, we are, ain’t we?’ they says. ‘We don’t need no interpreter,’ they says, ‘we may be a little different looking on the outsides, but we got the same souls, ain’t we?’ they says to him. ‘We get our livin’ from the same source, don’t we?’ they says, ‘It’s the blood of the guys you get workin’ for you,’ they says, ‘You bleed ’em by day, and we bleed ’em by night,’ they says, ‘that makes you and us blood-brothers,’ they says to the boss. ‘Yeah?’ says the boss, ‘well as you weaken ’em and rob ’em of some of their energy, I’m going to kill you,’ the boss says to the crumbs.”

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“‘All right,’ says the crumbs—‘hop to it, but you’ll lose the best ally you got, or ever had.’ ‘How so?’ says the boss. ‘Well,’ says the crumbs, ‘ain’t it our gouging into the hides of your slaves that keeps ’em so busy scratching they can’t do any thinking? And as long as they can’t think,’ they says, ‘your slaves won’t bother to organize,’ they says. ‘They won’t demand any improvements,’ they says. “And, well, by that time, I was kind of tired with their damned propaganda,” Fred says. “Them religious revivals they used to have, you don’t see much of that sort of goings-on nowadays; but in them days they was great doings. When I was a kid we used to look forward to ’em like we did the circus. Sometimes they was as good as a circus. It was a case of some to Jesus everybody. You had to come in or they’d hound the hell out of you if you didn’t. The woods was full of Billy Sundays, and if you could stand out against their persuading you, you was a good one. You had to have what they call stamina. Generally when some of those old hens got a hold of a guy, he was a goner, ’cause the women then went into the revival business with both feet. When they took out after you, there wasn’t much use o’ running. “But there was one old codger they had a devil of a time a-snaring. He wouldn’t fall for their bait at all. They tried every which way to get him, but old Rufe—Rufus Gray his name was—was one guy they couldn’t bring into the fold. He had read Bob Ingersoll, I guess, and didn’t seem to give a damn if his soul was saved or not. Pie in the sky couldn’t move him. The chase went on for years, revival after revival, and still old Rufe couldn’t be swayed from the paths of wickedness he preferred to travel. His soul was getting blacker and blacker with accumulating sins, but still the old cuss hung back. The stubborn old geezer seemed sure as hell bound for hell, and the betting was odds against his ever being corralled. “Well, it finally happened that a revival came on and, whether the Biblepounder was more convincing, or whether the sisters put on greater pressure in their persuading whatever it was, old Rufe—maybe he thought it was better to get it over with, but anyhow the old guy shows signs of weakening. He give up arguing and told ’em O-Kay, that he was ready to submit at last. Well, of course, landing a hard-shell old sinner, the likes of him, caused a lot of rejoicing among the sisters and the brethren. It was a great triumph, something to holler about. All that was lacking now was the baptism. And for old Rufus it’d need more’n a little sprinkling. It’d need a whole damned puddle of water for him to be made pure and radiant! “The baptisings was most of the time done in a lake, about a mile and a half from town. The preacher, and whoever would be his helpers, would lead the

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converts out to where the water was about arm-pit deep, and them dip ’em under. That’s what they done to old Rufe too—they leads him out to where the water was up to his whiskers and then topples him under. But he wasn’t counting on being ducked. So he comes up sputtering, and pawing, and madder’n hell. Soon as he untangles himself from their hanging on to him, he starts out swimming to beat the devil himself, and when he gets out in about the middle of the lake he turns his head and hollers out: ‘Yeah, you would, would you? You’d try to drown somebody, would you? You Gawd-damned fools.’ Big Fred speaking-something of a drawl: “Talkin’ bout speed, I’d liked to had some of you guys with me a couple of months ago. I don’t know what kind of a car it was, but it sure could go. The fellow driving the car was a Jap, and there was only me and him in it. We left town here and was out fifty miles in less than an hour, that was makin’ pretty good time I thought, but when we got out where the traffic thinned down, the Jap steps on it. We had the radio going to kind of occupy our minds as we went along, and every so often he had to slow down to let the waves catch up.” “But,” put in an incredulous member of the group, “but do you know that radio waves travel thousands of miles in a second, way up in the thousands?” “Well, we must of been beatin’ that,” said Fred, “cause we couldn’t get the drift of what the program was ’cept by slowing down once in a while. “Years ago, in the mountains of Colorado, lived an old veterinarian whose name was ‘Doc’ Squires. He was something of a local character, and characteristic of him were some of the oddest word formations that I have ever heard. Given to raillery, the old man upon an occasion when cigarettes were being discussed, said: ‘I cannot see why boys will go on smoking those founcounded cigareets when they know that it is conjorious to their institutions—why it’s utterly rickydoodulous.’ “Then too, there was old Jack, a tall, lanky, and grizzled prospector, whom I remember as quite a character of those same parts. Relating on experience he had, when suddenly confronted with a bear, he said: ‘I was coming down the trail when all of a sudden I see this here bar spending on his hind feet lookin’ at me. The only thing I could do was to hit for the nearest tree I could find. The nearest tree was a scrubby little pinion, but I lit out for it and climbed it. But when I’d climbed it as fer as I could go, I looked down and seen that my feet was still on the ground.’ What happened to the bar I never learned, or have forgotten.’”

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THE GOLD BRICK Tradition Bearer: George Estes Source: Sherbert, Andrew C. “Interview of George Estes.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Date: 1938 Original Source: Oregon National Origin: European American

The following personal experience narrative is offered as validation for the narrator’s claims of extraordinary luck. It serves as a cautionary tale as well, however, given his comments, “I hadn’t heard that the Brooklyn Bridge was being ‘sold’ by prosperous-looking New Yorkers to bucoliclooking strangers on an average of once a week.”

A

s I review the incidents of my past life I can but conclude that luck played a major role in all that I ever did or in all that ever happened to me. A case in point. As a young telegrapher in Portland, I had a great many acquaintances. At the time of which I speak, Burnside street was a busy thoroughfare—the cross-roads of the Oregon country, where one might meet anyone he had ever met or known before. In those few short blocks there congregated people of all types, from the more or less dandified Portland sophisticates, to the rough, uncouth wranglers of the hinterland. The gold miner from eastern or southern Oregon rubbed elbows with the almond-eyed Chinese. The farmer from Tualatin Valley walked the length of Burnside street a time or two, before he started for home with the new plow he had purchased. There was only one Burnside street on the face of the earth, and that was in Portland. One day I was approached by an acquaintance, a young fellow of no means, who asked to speak to me confidentially. He said that he had made the acquaintance of a miner, who at that very moment was waiting for him in a room in a Burnside street lodging house, and who had possession of a gold brick worth twelve thousand dollars, which could be bought for three thousand. He said the miner was badly in need of money and had come by the brick “never mind how.”

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The Northwest | The Gold Brick

It looked like a splendid investment. Now as it happened, my bank balance—because of frugal personal habits—stood at a sum just about ample enough to take care of such an investment. Three thousand dollars becomes twelve thousand dollars—just like that. No long, tedious, slaving, scraping, and waiting for slowly amassed principal and small, annual interest accruing to do the job. I hastened to the bank and drew out the three thousand. My acquaintance and I hurried down to the miner’s room, anxious to get there before someone else did, or before he changed his mind. He was there. I bought the brick. Certainly I was excited. My eyes bulged. The brick was golden yellow and heavy as lead. I left the miner’s room and with the winged heels of a Mercury ran over to the shop of a jeweler and goldsmith who was a very good friend of mine. I wanted him to appraise, and perhaps buy, my twelve-thousanddollar brick. My friend was out when I entered. It was some little time before he returned. I jumped up and hurriedly told him of my good fortune. His face turned ashen. He clamped his head with both hands in anguish and cried, “George, George, what have you done? You bought a gold brick down an Burnside Street? Oh, George! You damned fool! Give me the brick. Run down to Burnside Street and see if you can find the fellow that sold it to you! Get the Marshal! Hurry! Run!” Needless to say, I ran, but I arrived there too late. My miner had checked out and disappeared in the brief interim that followed the transaction. And here is why I say “luck” played a major role in all of the incidents of my life: whether for good or ill. I mended my way slowly back to the shop of my friend, the goldsmith. I was callow. I had never heard of anyone being gold-bricked. At that time I hadn’t heard that the Brooklyn Bridge was being “sold” by prosperouslooking New Yorkers to bucolic-looking strangers on an average of once a week. I walked into the shop of my friend—beaten, defeated, despondent. He jumped up excitedly at my entrance, shouting. “George, you’re the luckiest damn fool in the world. I’ve tested your gold brick and it’s solid gold to the core. An ingot worth pretty near what your miner said it was.”

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COYOTE CREATES TABOOS Tradition Bearer: Charles Cultee Source: Boas, Franz. Pages 102–6 in Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. Date: 1890–1891 Original Source: Chinook National Origin: Native American

The following Chinook myth enumerates and validates taboos concerning their food sources. Such ritualized behavior is common. It is noteworthy that even Coyote, who at the outset of the narrative demonstrates the power to control the environment, observes taboos. While it is hardly surprising that, even when operating in culture hero mode, a trickster figure such as Coyote should speak to his excrement, there is a logic behind this act. In order to understand those things that are taboo, he seeks answers from the “physically dirty” substance that emanates from a supernaturally powerful figure—himself.


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oyote was coming. He came to Gôt’a’t. There he met a heavy surf. He was afraid that he might be drifted away and went up to the spruce trees. He stayed there a long time. Then he took some sand and threw it upon that surf: “This shall be a prairie and no surf. The future generations shall walk on this prairie.” Thus Clatsop became a prairie. The surf became a prairie. At Niâ’xaqcê a creek originated. He went and built a house at Niâ’xaqcê. He went out and stayed at the month of Niâ’xaqcê. Then he speared two silverside salmon, a steel-head salmon, and a fall salmon. Then he threw the salmon and the fall salmon away, saying: “This creek is too small. I do not like to see here salmon and fall salmon. It shall be a bad omen when a fall salmon is killed here; somebody shall die; also when a salmon is killed. When a female salmon or fall salmon is killed a woman shall die; when a male is killed a man shall die.” Now he carried only the silver-side salmon to his house. When he arrived there he cut it at once, steamed it and ate it. On the next day he took his harpoon and went again to the mouth of Niâ’xaqcê. He did not see anything, and the flood tide set in. He went home. On the next day he went again and did not see anything. Then he became angry and went home. He defecated and said to his excrements: “Why have these silver-side salmon disappeared?” “Oh, you with your bandy legs, you have no sense. When the first silver-side salmon is killed it must not be cut. It must be split along its back and roasted. It must not be steamed. Only when they go up river then they may be steamed.” Coyote went home. On the next day he went again and speared three. He went home and made three spits. He roasted each salmon on a spit. He had three salmon and three spits. On the next day he went again and stood at the month of the creek. He did not see anything until the flood tide set in. Then he became angry and went home. He defecated. He spoke and asked his excrements: “Why have these silverside salmon disappeared?” His excrements said to him: “I told you, you with your bandy legs, when the first silver-side salmon are killed spits must be made, one for the head, one for the back, one for the roe, one for the body. The gills must be burnt.” “Yes,” said Coyote. On the next day he went again. He killed again three silver-side salmon. When he arrived at home he cut them all and made many spits. He roasted them all separately. The spits of the breast, body, head, back, and roe were at separate places. Coyote roasted them. On the next morning he went again. He speared ten silver-side salmon. Coyote was very glad. He came home and split part of the fish. The other part he left and went to sleep. On the next morning he roasted the rest. Then he went again and stood at the mouth of the river. He

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The Northwest | Coyote Creates Taboos

did not see anything before the flood tide set in. He went home. On the next morning he went again, but again he did not see anything. He went home angry. He defecated and asked his excrements: “Why have these silver-side salmon disappeared?” His excrements scolded him: “When the first silver-side salmon are killed, they are not left raw. All must be roasted. When many are caught, they must all be roasted before you go to sleep.” On the next morning Coyote went and stood at the mouth of the river. He speared ten. Then he made many double spits, and remained awake until all were roasted that he had caught. Now he had learned all that is forbidden in regard to silver-side salmon when they arrive first at Niâ’xaqcê. He remained there and said: “The Indians shall always do as I had to do. If a man who prepares corpses eats a silver-side salmon, they shall disappear at once. If a murderer eats silver-side salmon, they shall at once disappear. They shall also disappear when a girl who has just reached maturity or when a menstruating woman eats them. Even I got tired.” Now he came this way. At some distance he met a number of women who were digging roots. He asked them: “What are you doing?” “We are digging camas.” “How can you dig camas at Clatsop? You shall dig a root, species, and thistle roots in this country. No camas will be dug here.” Now they gathered a root, species, and thistle roots. He left these women and spoiled that land. He transformed the camas into small onions. Then he came to Clatsop. It was the spring of the year. Then he met his younger brother the snake. He said to him: “Let us make nets.” The snake replied: “As you wish.” Now they bought material for twine, and paid the frog and the newt to spin it. Now Coyote cleaned all the material for twine while the snake was crawling about. Then the frog and the newt spun it. Then Coyote said to his younger brother: “Clean it, clean it. You crawl about all day.” Thus he spoke to the snake. Coyote continued: “You shall make one side of the net, I make the other.” Coyote finished his twine and said to the snake: “Quick! Quick! You let me wait. Make your net.” The snake replied: “You let me wait.” Thus he spoke to Coyote. Now, Coyote made his net. He finished it all. The two women made the ropes, Coyote made the net buoys; while the snake crawled about. Coyote said: “Make your net buoys; you let me wait.” Thus he said to the snake. The snake replied: “Make haste! You let me wait.” Coyote finished his net buoys. Then he went to look for stones, and the snake accompanied him. They went for stones to Tongue point. The snake crawled about among the stones, while Coyote carried them down. They went home.

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After they reached home Coyote went to gather spruce roots. The snake accompanied him. Coyote dug, up the ground and the snake crawled about at the same place. They went home. Coyote split the spruce roots. “Go on; work,” he spoke to the snake; “you let me wait.” The snake replied: “Quick, quick; work! You let me wait.” Now Coyote tied his net to the buoys and laid it down flat on a large mat. Then he tied it to the buoys. The snake crawled about at the same place. Coyote finished his net and hung it up outside. Early the next morning he stepped out of the house, and there hung already the net of the snake. “Oh, brother,” he said, “you got the better of me.” Coyote was ashamed. The snake had won over him. Coyote said: “When a person makes a net, he shall get tired before he finishes it. It would not be well if he would not get tired.” The snake said to him: “I told you that you would let me wait.” It got day. Then they went to catch salmon in their net. They laid the net and caught two in it. Coyote jumped over the net. Now they intended to catch more salmon, but the flood-tide set in. They had caught only two before the flood-tide set in. Now they went home. Coyote said that he was hungry, and he split the salmon at once. They roasted them. When they were done they ate. The frog and the newt were their cousins. The next morning they went fishing with their net. The newt looked after the rope, the snake stood at the upper end of the net, Coyote at the lower end. They intended to catch salmon, but they did not get anything until the flood-tide set in. They went home. Coyote was angry. He defecated and spoke to his excrements: “You are a liar.” They said to him: “You with your bandy-legs. When people kill a salmon they do not jump over the net. You must not step over your net. When the first salmon are killed, they are not cut until the afternoon.” “Oh,” said Coyote, “You told me enough.” On the next morning they went fishing. When they had killed a salmon they did not jump over the net. They laid their net twice. Enough salmon were in the net. Then he ordered the newt: “Bail out the canoe, it is full of water.” She bailed it out. Then they intended to fish again, but the flood-tide set in. They went home and put down what they had caught in the house. In the afternoon Coyote split the salmon. He split them in the same way as the silver-side salmon. He placed the head, the back, the body, and the roe in separate places and on separate double spits. They were done. The next morning they went fishing. They did not kill anything.

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The Northwest | Coyote Creates Taboos

Coyote became angry and defecated. He said to his excrements: “Tell me, why have these salmon disappeared?” His excrements scolded him: “Do you think their taboo is the same as that of the silver-side salmon? It is different. When you go fishing salmon and they go into your net, you may lay it three times. No more salmon will go into it. It is enough then. Never bail out your canoe. When you come home and cut the salmon, you must split it at the sides and roast belly and back on separate double spits. Then put four sticks vertically into the ground so that they form a square and lay two horizontal sticks across them. On top of this frame place the back with the head and the tail attached to it.” He said to his excrements: “You told me enough.” On the next morning they went fishing and killed three salmon. They did not bail out their canoe. Then he said to the newt: “Fetch a stick from the woods. We will make a club.” She went and brought a stick. Then they laid their net again. Again a salmon was in it and he killed it with his club. They intended to continue fishing, but the flood-tide set in. They killed four only. They put down their salmon. In the afternoon Coyote cut them and put four sticks into the ground. Now he did as his excrements had told him. When they were done he broke the backbone at once. On the next morning they went fishing. They did not kill anything before the flood-tide set in. They went home. Coyote was angry and defecated. “Why have these salmon disappeared?” he asked his excrements. “I told you,” they said to Coyote; “do you think their taboo is the same as that of the silver-side salmon? It is different. When you kill a salmon you must never strike it with a stick. When they may be boiled, then you may strike them with a stick. When it is almost autumn you may strike them with a stick. Do not break a salmon’s backbone when they just begin to come. When you have killed a salmon, take sand, strew it on its eye, and press it with your fist. Do not club it.” Coyote said: “You have told me enough.” On the next morning they went fishing. Salmon went into the net; three went into the net immediately. He strewed sand on each and pressed each. He killed many salmon. They went home and roasted them. When they were done he distributed them among the people of the town above Clatsop. Now they dried them. On the next morning they went fishing. They tried to fish but did not catch anything before the floodtide set in. They went home. Coyote was angry. He defecated: “Why have these salmon disappeared?” “I told you, you lean one, with your bandy-legs. There are many taboos relating to the salmon. When you have killed many salmon you must never carry them outside the house. You must roast and eat them at the same place. When

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part is left they must stay it the same place. When you want to dry them you must do so when the flood-tide sets in on the day after you have caught them.” He said to them: “You have told me enough.” On the next morning they went fishing again. They killed many salmon. They roasted them all. When they were done he invited the people. The newt was sent out. They came to eat in Coyote’s house. They finished eating. Then they left there what they had not eaten. Now it was low water in the morning. They went out early to lay their net, but they did not catch anything. They fished until the flood-tide set in. They did not kill anything. They were unsuccessful. Twice they tried to go fishing early in the morning, but they were unsuccessful; they did not catch anything. Coyote defecated and said to his excrements: “Why have the salmon disappeared?” Coyote received the answer: “I told you, you lean one, that the salmon has many taboos. When you go fishing and it is ebb-tide early in the morning, you must not lay your net before sunrise. The salmon must not be carried outside until a crow takes one and carries it outside. Then it must be distributed raw. No fire must be made until daylight; the breast must not be eaten before the next day. When salmon are roasted at a tire and they are done, water must be poured into the fire.” He said to his excrements: “You have told me enough. The Indians shall always do this way. Thus shall be the taboos for all generations of Indians. Even I got tired.” Thus spoke Coyote about the taboos of Clatsop. He said to his cousins: “We will move to the other side.” The newt made herself ready. Then the snake looked at the frog, who was growling. The snake reached her, struck, and killed her. Now they arrived here on this side. They went fishing and killed salmon. He did the same way as in Clatsop. He strewed sand on the eye of that salmon. He pressed its eye. Then they intended to fish again, but they did not kill anything. They went home. On the following morning they went fishing again, but they did not kill anything. On the next morning they went fishing again, but they did not kill anything. Coyote scolded. He defecated: “Why have these salmon disappeared?” “Oh, you foolish Coyote. When you kill a salmon you must kick it. Do you think it is the same here as at Clatsop?” “Oh,” said Coyote. On the next morning they went fishing again. They laid their net and caught two salmon. They laid their net again and caught three salmon. He threw one ashore. It fell down head first so that the mouth struck the sand. They tried to lay their net again but they did not kill anything. They

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The Northwest | The Doom of the Katt-a-quins

tried to fish until the flood tide set in. They had not killed anything. They had caught five only. They went home. In the evening Coyote cut the salmon and roasted them. They were done. The following morning they went fishing, but did not kill anything. Coyote scolded. He defecated: “Why have these salmon disappeared?” “Oh, you foolish Coyote. Do you think it is the same here as at Clatsop? Do not throw salmon ashore so that the head is downward. It is taboo. When you kill a salmon go and pick salmonberries. When you have caught many salmon put salmonberries into the mouth of each.” “Oh, you have told me enough,” he said to his excrements. The next morning they again went fishing. They killed many salmon. He sent the newt to pick salmonberries. The newt brought salmonberries. Now they put those berries into the mouths of those salmon. It got day and they went fishing again. They met fishermen on the water. A short distance down river they laid their net. They laid it several times and went up the river a short distance. They passed the canoes of those fishermen. They laid their net and intended to fish, but they did not kill anything. They were unsuccessful. They went home. Coyote scolded. He defecated: “Why have these salmon disappeared?” “You lean one! When yon kill a salmon, and you have laid your net at one place and you kill one more, you must lay your net at the same place. You must not pass a canoe with fishermen in it. It is taboo.” “Yes,” said Coyote. On the next day they went again fishing. Coyote said: “Even I got tired. The Indians shall always do in the same manner. Murderers, those who prepare corpses, girls who are just mature, menstruating women, widows and widowers shall not eat salmon. Thus shall be the taboos for all generations of people.”

THE DOOM OF THE KATT-A-QUINS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Deans, James. “The Doom of the Katt-a-quins: From the Aboriginal Folk-lore of Southern Alaska.” Journal of American Folklore 5 (1892): 233–35. Date: 1862 Original Source: Tlingit National Origin: Native American

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The Tlingit, like the other cultures of the Northwest Coast, attained an extremely high level of cultural complexity due to the abundance and dependability of food resources, and because of the presence of thick jungle-like forests that provided building materials. The Tlingit were able to develop stable settlements and devote less time to the business of staying alive. Raven, who acts as an agent of justice in the following myth, was the culture hero of many Northwest Coast Native Americans, including the Tlingit.

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att-a-quin was a chief among the Tlingit. He lived very long ago, our fathers tell us, so long that no man can count the time by moons nor by snows, but by generations. He was a bad man, the worst that ever lived among our people. Not only were he himself and his wife bad, but the whole family were like him. They were feared and shunned by everyone, even by little children, who would run away screaming when any of the family came near. Nothing seemed to give them so much pleasure as the suffering of other people. Dogs they delighted to torture, and tore their young ones to pieces. Most persons love and fondle a nice, fat little puppy, but not so the Katt-a-quin family; when they got a nice puppy it was soon destroyed by hunger and ill-usage. When the people met their neighbors from above, at Shakes-heit, if Katt-aquin came there, he generally spoiled the market, and if he could not get what he wanted by fair means, he would take it by force. The people, seeing this, would pack up and leave. So tired had they grown of the family, that the rest of the tribe had decided to make them all leave the village, or, failing in that, endeavor to get clear of them by some other means. But before doing anything of that sort, they were delivered in a way terrible and unthought of. From old versions of the story, it appears that the people had become so disgusted with the family that when they wished to go hunting or to gather wild fruit, they would strictly conceal their object and the direction of their journey from those whom they disliked. One morning, while all were staying at Shakes-heit, they made up their minds to go to the large flat where these rocks stand, and lay in a stock of wild fruits for winter use. So in order that none of the Katt-a-quin might come, they all left early and quietly. When the others got up, which was far from early, as they were a lazy lot, and found that they were left alone, they were displeased

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The Northwest | The Doom of the Katt-a-quins

at not being asked to go along with the others. After a time they all got into a canoe, and went up the river in order to find the rest, which after a while they did, by finding their canoes hauled up on shore. After this they also landed, and began to pluck berries, but finding that the people who preceded them had got the best of the fruit, they gave up picking in disgust, and were seated on the shore when the others returned, having, as might be expected, plenty of fine fruit. Seeing that the rest had a fine supply, and they themselves nothing but sour, unripe stuff, they asked for a few, which the others gave them; at the same time saying that they should not be so lazy, as they might also have got their share of good ones. After a while, the old fellow demanded more of the best fruit; this the people flatly refused, saying that the late comers ought to go picking for themselves. Just then a number of the first party, who had gone in another direction, returned with baskets full of nice, large, and ripe fruit. Seeing this, the whole family of the Katt-a-quins went and demanded the whole; this the others refused, saying they had no idea of toiling all day gathering fruit for such a worthless, lazy set as they were. A scuffle began, which ended in the family upsetting all the fruit, and trampling it under foot in the sand, thus destroying the proceeds of a long and hard day’s work. Seeing all this, the people made a rush, some for their bows and arrows, others arming themselves with whatever came to hand, all determined to wreak vengeance on those who had caused the destruction of their day’s labor, and whom all disliked. Seeing this turn of affairs, and the determination of the people, the offenders knew that their only safety lay in getting aboard their canoe, and going down the river before the others could follow them. This they did, leaving in their hurry one or two of their children behind them. But a new and terrible retribution awaited them. When they reached the middle, Yehl (Raven), who had been watching their conduct, turned them in an instant to these stones, and placed them where they now stand, to be an eternal warning to evil-doers. The largest one is Katt-a-quip. The next is his wife, and the small stones in the land and in the water, his children. What is seen is only their bodies; their souls, which can never die, went to Seewuck-cow, there to remain for ages, or until such time as they have made reparation for the evil done while in the body. After this they will ascend to Kee-wuck-cow, a better land. Such was the doom of the Katt-a-quins. As our fathers told the story to us, said the Tlingit, so I tell it to you.

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THE MARMOT WOMAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 263–64. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’a¯út National Origin: Native American

The narratives of the Athabascan Ts’ets’¯aút were profoundly influenced by the Tlingit. The most obvious evidence of such influence in this myth is seen in the Tlingit phrase used by Marmot Woman to bring her brother back to life. There is a belief reported by Franz Boas that before the arrival of human beings in the country, the land was inhabited by people wearing marmot skins. The donning of a magical skin is a well-known cross-cultural belief among European Americans, African Americans, and Native Americans (including the Southwestern Athabascans—the Navajo). The motif of recognizing a shape-shifter by a human token, such as the bracelet in this narrative, is common as well.

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nce upon a time there was a widower who had a son. He had built his lodge near the upper end of a valley which abounded in marmots. Every day they went hunting, but he was unsuccessful. It so happened that one day the boy caught a young marmot. He did not kill it, but took it home. Its mother saw what had happened, and followed the boy to his lodge. There she took off her skin, and was at once transformed into a stout woman. She stepped up to the entrance of the lodge, and said to the men: “Give me my child.” They were surprised, for they did not know who she was, but the father invited her to enter. She said: “No, your lodge is not clean.” Then he arose, gathered some grass, which he spread on the floor for her to sit on. She entered and sat down. The boy gave her the young marmot, which she at once proceeded to suckle. Then the woman asked for eagle’s down. After she had received this, she said to the hunter: “You are unsuccessful in hunting because you are unclean. I

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The Northwest | The Marmot Woman

will cleanse you.” She wiped the inside of his mouth and removed a vast quantity of phlegm. Now he was clean. She became his wife. Before he again went out hunting she ordered him to seek the solitude of the mountains, and to fast for three days. He went, and on his return the woman gave him a small stick with which to kill marmots. The first day he went out hunting he saw numerous marmots, and killed twenty. He carried them home, and his wife at once began to skin and carve them. She hung up the meat to dry. While her husband had been away, she had gathered a vast quantity of salmon berries, and they lived on berries and on meat. On the following day the man again went hunting, and killed fifty marmots. The lodge was full of meat. Often while he was out hunting he noticed that one marmot was following him all the time. It was tame, and played around him. Therefore he did not kill it. One day, however, when there were no, other marmots to be seen, he killed it and carried it home. When his wife opened the pouch and pulled out the game, she began to cry and to wail: “You have killed my brother! You have killed my brother!” She put down the body, and laid all the other marmots that her husband had procured around it. Then she sang: “Brother, arise!” (goxde kuse khek! This is said to be Tlingit). When she had sung a little while, the body began to move. The dried meat began to assume shape. She threw on it the skins, and all the marmots returned to life and ran up the hills. She followed them, crying. Her husband was frightened, but followed her, accompanied by his son. After they had gone some distance, they saw her disappearing in a fissure of the rocks, which opened and let her in. When they reached the fissure, the father told his son to stay outside while he himself tried to enter. The fissure opened, and on entering he found himself in a lodge. His brother-in-law had taken off his skin, which was hanging from the roof. He was sitting in the rear of the lodge. The women were seated in the middle of the floor, and were weaving baskets and hats. The chief spoke: “Spread a mat for my brother-in-law.” The people obeyed, and he sat down next to his wife. The chief ordered to be brought a cloak of marmot skins. When he put it on, he was transformed into a marmot. He was given a hole to live in, and a rock on which he was to sit and whistle as the marmots are in the habit of doing. The son saw all that had happened, and returned home in great distress. Two years after these events, the brothers of the man who had been transformed into a marmot went hunting. They pitched their camp at the same place where their brother had lived. After having cleaned their bodies and fasted for

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four days, they set their traps. They were very successful. One day one of the brothers saw a marmot jumping into a crack of the rocks. He set his trap at the entrance of the fissure, and when he came back in the evening he found the animal in his trap. He put it into his pouch with the rest of his game, and went home. His wife began to skin the marmots, and to dress the meat. She took up this particular animal last. When she cut the skin around the forepaws she saw a bracelet under the skin, and her nephew, who was staying with them, recognized it as that of his father. Then she put the animal aside. At midnight it threw off its skin, and resumed the shape of a man. On the following morning they recognized their brother who had been lost for two years. He told them of all that had happened since the time when he had left his son at the fissure of the rock, how he had become a marmot, and how he had lived as one of their race.

THE VISIT TO THE SKY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Boas, Franz. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 267–68. Date: 1894–1895 Original Source: Ts’ets’a¯út National Origin: Native American

The following tale focuses on a man lacking in social responsibility, a trait that was crucial both to the Northern Athabascan Ts’ets’a¯út and to the Tlingit whose culture profoundly influenced the former group. Deserting one family, he is transported in a dream to the Sky World. After bringing back the daughter of the Sky chief as his new wife, he lies to her (Tlingit cosmology reserves a special hell for liars). This leads to the destruction of his people, a holocaust he somehow escapes. The plot of the narrative more closely resembles a European ordinary folktale than a Native American myth. A particular European evidence is impossible to determine, however.

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The Northwest | The Visit to the Sky

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nce upon a time there was a man who had a large family. One morning his wife and children, upon awaking, were unable to find him. He had disappeared. When he awoke he found himself in a strange lodge among strange people. The house stood on a vast open prairie. A young girl was lying at his side. It was very beautiful there. Now he heard the chief speaking. He looked around, but he did not see a soul. The girl said to him: “You are in the sky. My father is going to make you clean and strong.” Then he heard the chief saying: “Build a large fire and put stones on top of it.” A giant arose, who built a fire and put on stones. After a while the chief asked, “Are the stones red hot?” The giant replied, “They are hot.” Then the wood was taken away, the red hot stones were piled up, and, after the man had been placed on top, a blanket was spread over him. Then the ashes were placed on top of the blanket, and a new fire was built over the whole pile. This was kept burning for a whole day. In the evening the chief said to the giant, “I think he is done.” The fire and the ashes were removed, and the man was found to be red hot, but not steamed. He was taken from the pile of stones with wooden tongs and placed on a plank, which was supported at each end. The girl was crying all day, because she believed him dead. Early the next morning the chief sent the giant to see if the visitor was still alive. He lifted the blanket, which had been spread over the red hot body. Then the plank, which had been burned by con-tact with the body of the stranger, gave way, and he fell down. But he arose at once hale and well. Then the chief had a mat spread for him in the rear of the house and said, “I burned you in order to make your body as hard as stone. Sit down with my daughter. She shall be your wife.” He married her, and the young woman was glad. The chief said: “If you so desire, you may take her down to the earth. She shall see what the people are doing.” The chief’s lodge was full of many kinds of food, which, however, were not known to the visitor. When they prepared to descend to the earth, the chief gave his daughter a pot and a black tube, through which she drank of the liquid contained in the pot. Nobody except herself was allowed to use these, and she herself did not partake of any other kind of food. The chief ordered the giant to open the road that led to the earth. He opened a hole in the ground, took the rainbow at its one end, and placed the other end on the earth. Before they parted the chief forbade the man ever to tell where he had been and what he had seen and to talk to any woman except his present wife. They departed, and reached the earth not far away from the village where the man had formerly lived. He did not recognize the country, but his wife

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showed him the way and told him that they would reach the village in the evening. When they approached the camp the people recognized him. All assembled and asked him where he came from. He told them that he had been in the sky, and that his new wife was a daughter of the chief of the sky. He was invited to return to his former wife and to his children, but he did not go. He built a lodge outside the camp. He took a girl into his lodge to be a servant to his wife. Every day he himself had to fetch water for his wife in the pot that her father had given to her. This she drank through her tube. The latter had the property of swimming on the water as long as her husband was true to her. It went down when he had spoken to any other woman but her. One day when he returned bringing the water his young wife asked him if he would like to talk to his former wife. He did not reply, thus intimating that he did not care for her. But when the young woman placed the tube into the water it sank. She knew at once that her husband had spoken to his former wife. Then she said, “I came to take pity on you and on your friends, but since you do not obey my father’s commands I must go back.” She wept, and embracing her servant she said, “Hide in the woods under the roots of a large tree where the rays of the sun will not strike you, else you will perish with all the rest of the people.” The girl did as she was bidden. Then the rainbow appeared. She climbed up and disappeared from view. On the following day the man went hunting. Then the sun began to shine hotter and hotter. There was no cloud in the sky. The camp grew quiet, even the dogs ceased to howl. The rays of the sun had burned the whole camp. Only the man and the servant girl had escaped destruction. The man, when the sun was shining so fiercely, had cooled himself with the snow and the water of the mountains, while the servant girl was protected by the roots of the tree. When the sun set the fire went out and the girl returned to her friends, to whom she told what had happened. Nobody knows about the further fate of the man.

LEGEND OF SATTIK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Powers, Stephen. “North American Indian Legends and Fables.” Folk-Lore Record 5 (1882): 107. Date: ca. 1882

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The Northwest | Legend of Sattik

Original Source: Mattoal National Origin: Native American

The Mattoal on the borders of California and Oregon relied primarily on a diet of acorns and salmon. The following legend emphasizes the importance of strict adherence to taboos (see “Coyote Creates Taboos,” p. 127). A belief existed in traditional hunting cultures that animals in a sense “gave” themselves to the hunter, but violation of a taboo could block this generosity. Thus, failure to observe proper hunting practices was considered as serious a crime as murder in some cases. The violation of taboo in this narrative is swiftly punished. The character Frog in the myths of the Northwest was associated with fresh water and access to it; therefore, a prohibition existed against harming the animal.

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any snows ago there came up a white man out of the south land, journeying down Eel River to the country of the Mattoal. He was the first white man who had ever come into that land, and he lost his way and could not find it again. For lack of food through many days he was sore distressed with hunger and had fallen down faint in his trail, and he came near dying. But there passed that way an Indian who was called Sattik, and he saw the white man fallen in the trail with hunger with his mouth in the dust, and his heart was touched because of him. He took him and lifted him up, and he brought him fresh water to drink in his hands, and from his basket gave him dried salmon to eat, and he spoke kind words to him. Thus the man was revived, and his soul cheered within him, but he could not yet walk. Then the heart of Sattik was moved with pity for the white man, and he took him on his back and carried him on the way. They journeyed three sleeps down Eel River, but Sattik carried the white man on his shoulders, and often he sat down to rest. At the end of the third day they came to a spring wherein were many frogs; and Sattik dipped up water in his hands to drink, as the manner of Indians is, but the white man bowed down on his belly and drank of the waters, and he caught a frog in his hand and eat it, because of the hunger he had. At the sight of this the Indian’s heart became as water for terror, and he fled from the wrath of the Big Man, lest, because of this impious thing that was done, he should come down quick out of heaven and with his red right hand rend a tree

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to splinters and smite them both to the ground. He ran one day and two nights, and turned not his face back to look behind him, neither did he rest. Then he climbed up a redwood tree to the top of it, but the tree was hollow and he broke through at the top, and fell down on the inside to the bottom, and died there.

AMHULUK, THE MONSTER OF THE MOUNTAIN POOL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Gatschet, Albert S. “Oregonian Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 141–42. Date: 1891 Original Source: Kalapuya National Origin: Native American

The Kalapuya lived in permanent winter homes and migrated throughout the Willamette Valley of Oregon during the summers. Subsistence was based on fishing, hunting, and gathering wild plant foods. As far as can be determined from the existing records of the traditions of the Native American cultures of the area, the legend of Amhuluk functioned primarily to frighten children away from dangerous bodies of water.

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mhuluk at first desired to establish his residence in the fertile plains of Atfalati [a Native American group that has ceased to exist as a cultural entity], but seeing that they were not large enough for him, he set out for a more extended region. Such a one he found at the Forked Mountain; he stopped there and has ever since occupied that spot. Every living being seen by him is drowned there, all the trees within his reach have their crowns upside down in his embrace, and many other things are gathered up in his stagnant waters. The monster’s legs seem deprived of their hair, and several kinds of dogs he keeps near him. His horns are spotted and of enormous magnitude. Three children were busy digging for edible roots, when Amhuluk emerged from the ground not far from them. When the children became aware of him,

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The Northwest | The Bewitched Wives

they exclaimed, “Let us take his beautifully spotted horns, to make digging-tools of them!” But the monster approached fast and lifted two of the children on his horns, while the eldest managed to escape. Wherever Amhuluk set his feet the ground was sinking. When the boy returned home he said to his father: “Something dreadful has come near us, and has taken away my brother and my sister!” He then went to sleep, and when he lay on his couch his parents noticed that his body was full of blots. Immediately the father put his girdle around his dress and started for the Forked Mountain, where his children had met their death. He found the tracks of the son who had been fortunate enough to escape the same fate, followed them, skirted the mountain, and there he saw the bodies of his children emerging from the muddy pool. Then they disappeared for a while, to emerge again on the opposite slope of the mountain. This apparition occurred five times in succession, and finally the father reached the very spot where the children had been drowned. A pool of water was visible, which sent up a fog, and in the midst of the fog the children were seen lifted up high upon the horns of Amhuluk. With his hands he made signals to them, and the children replied, “Didei, didei, didei” (“we changed our bodies”). The father, painfully moved, set up a mourning wail and remained upon the shore all night. The next day the fog rose up again, and the father again perceived his children borne upon the horns of the monster. He made the same signals, and the children replied: “Didei, didei, didei.” Full of grief, he established a camping lodge upon the shore, stayed in it five days, and every day the children reappeared in the same manner as before. When they appeared no longer, the father returned to his family and said, “Amhuluk has ravished the children. I have seen them; they are at the Forked Mountain. I have seen them upon the horns of the monster; many trees were in the water, the crown down below, the trunk looking upward.”

THE BEWITCHED WIVES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Burrows, Elizabeth. “Eskimo Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 39 (1926): 79–80. Date: 1926 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

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The cure for supernatural assault among the Eskimo is by recourse to a shaman, an individual who through personal power (as distinct from divine intervention) is able to discover the source of evil influence and remove it. In many cases, the shaman then sends the malevolent force from the victim to the original aggressor. This is the case in the following narrative when the ferns used to remove the girl’s bewitchment are then used as the instrument of attacking the evil woman-spirit.

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little girl, who lived alone with her grandmother, followed tracks along the river till at a water-hole she found a house where a man was making arrows. He gave her no greeting, but warned her to be careful lest the door close upon her. She got away safely to the ceremonial house near-by, but here the door in closing upon her bit off a piece of her dress. On her return home her grandmother suspected her adventure from the torn garment, but the girl claimed that the rent was made by a fall on the ice. Early next morning she returned to the Arrow-maker’s with a plate of fishheads. The house was empty. She lifted up the grass-mat on the wall and discovered another door. She went through it into a passage where she commenced sliding, first on her feet till her moccasins were worn out, then on one side, then on the other, then on her breasts, and then on her back, in each position wearing out the dress on that side. She held on to her plate of fish-heads, and at last came to a high cliff overlooking the water. She heard someone singing. It was the Arrow-maker she had seen the previous day; he was sealing in his kayak. When he had speared the seal, lifted it on his raft, cut it up, and put it into the kayak, he came in close to the cliff, and told the girl to jump into the boat. She was afraid, but he pointed out that the place where she was covered with the bones of people who had starved to death there, and warned her that unless she obeyed, she would meet the same fate. The girl jumped, and the man took her home, warning her not to look behind at anyone who called to her. She heard people crying out, and he told her it was his wives making a great racket. Finally they came to his home where there were two houses. He told her to go to the smaller one, where the head-man and the head-woman welcomed her with gifts of clothing and sent food to the ceremonial house for the man. Several times the girl heard someone calling, but each time she refused to look in the direction of the call.

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The Northwest | Qautipalung

In the course of a year, the girl married the Arrow-maker. One day as she carried his food to him at the ceremonial house, she at last looked behind her at the person whom she heard calling. At once she was in the power of this evil woman-spirit, and followed her to her house. There this evil spirit gave her snow-and-oil to eat, and immediately she began to cry out continuously like the other wives. Thereupon the evil woman threw her out of the house, where her husband found her and put her into the house with the other wives. In the large village across the river an old woman lived with her grandson, and the girl had been accustomed to give them food. When the old woman knew that the girl had been bewitched, she sent her grandson to get her. She put her on a grass-mat, removed her clothes, and with a bunch of ferns whipped her from the feet to the face, until at last the girl sat up and asked why she had been awakened. Then the old woman directed her to take the ferns and use them in the same way on the face of the evil woman-spirit. When she had done so, the bad woman began to call out continuously as she had made others do. In the same way the girl transformed also the evil woman’s father and mother, and then took them all by the hair and threw them out of the house. Meanwhile her husband searched for her, and when he found her cured in the house of the old woman, he took her home where they lived together and had children. He always took care of the old woman that had saved her life, but the rest of the villagers all died.

QAUTIPALUNG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 172. Date: 1897–1898 Original Source: Eskimo National Origin: Native American

The Arctic Eskimo bands relied heavily on a diet of protein and fat from animal sources. As a result the hunt, an exclusively male pursuit

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historically, was crucial to survival. This led to a relatively higher value being placed on males than females in Eskimo tradition. As a result, it is not uncommon to see cruel treatment meted out to female characters in their tales. In this case, the rejection of a suitor, who was obviously a shaman, leads to disaster.

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here was a woman named Qautipalung, who had an unmarried daughter. One day some people came in a boat to get this daughter to be wife to one of them. But when the girl saw the suitor, she said to her mother, “He is much too old; don’t let him have me!” When the man heard that his suit was rejected, he said that he would go away, but that the girl would be turned to stone. Qautipalung now was frightened and asked him to stay, but he refused and went on his way. “The boat is going away,” Qautipalung said to her daughter, and the girl made herself ready to go outdoors. When she got outdoors the boat was already some distance away, and she began to run after it over the land to catch up with it. But as she ran her feet turned to stone, so that she fell down on her face, and the rest of her body turned to earth. As she fell, the bag she had in her hand was spilled, and the contents, falling out, turned into small auks, that flew away, crying tuu, tuu, tuu.

THE MAN AND WOMAN WHO BECAME SEA-OTTERS Tradition Bearer: Mrs. C. A. Anderson Source: Golder, F. A. “Aleutian Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 220–21. Date: 1905 Original Source: Aleut National Origin: Native American

The following is an Attu narrative widely distributed throughout the Aleutian Islands. Within the culture, marriages were, as a rule, informal

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The Northwest | The Man and Woman Who Became Sea-Otters

and, in fact, abduction and marriage by force were common occurrences. The frailty of the institution of marriage, then, led easily to violent conflict. Within bands, social control was in the hands of its members, rather than codified in legal systems. An act such as the husband’s “taking the law into his own hands” was one way of managing social conflict.

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nce upon a time there lived in a certain village a married couple; and one day the husband told the wife, “We are going to make a feast, and we are going to invite your brother-in-law. Go and gather some herbs and roots, and then go to the beach and bring some moss from the rocks.” He himself went to get some seals or ducks. On his return he busied himself preparing the dishes. This done, he sharpened his knives, and commanded his wife to call the expected guest. She knew that her husband was jealous of her brother-in-law and planned to kill him, but was forbidden by her husband to say anything to him about it. She went and called him, and as they were coming toward the house she, walking behind, thought continually of the fate that was awaiting him, yet fear of her husband prevented her from saying anything. When they came into the house she looked at the two men and saw how much the handsomer of the two the brother-in-law was. The husband turned to the invited guest, and said, “I prepared a feast for you; I have planned it for many years. Come and eat with me.” They sat down on the floor, having the food before them in a hollowed rock. In the meantime the woman was outside, weeping because the man she loved more than her husband was about to be killed. The meal started off pleasantly, but the husband was watching his chance, and once when the brother-in-law had an unusually full mouth and could not defend himself he jumped on him, seized him by the throat, cut his head off, and said, “Now you have your feast.” This done he left the house and sat down among the rocks, waiting to see what his wife would do. She went in and picked up the head, washed it, put it into an intestine bag finely trimmed with sea-otter fur, and, after observing the whereabouts of her husband, started off with it towards the cliff near the house. She went quite a distance before her husband noticed her and started in pursuit, calling to her, “Where are you going?” She answered: “You will see which way I am going; you killed him and you will never see me again.” As he increased his speed she began to run until she reached the top of the cliff, from which she threw herself into the water below.

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The husband arrived just in time to see her disappear. He stood there watching the spot, believing her drowned; but to his great surprise there emerged two sea-otters, and one went west while the other went east. He went back to the house, where he took his hunting gear and his bidarka (kayak) and said, “I will end their lives and mine too.” Saying this he launched his skin boat, got into it, and paddled away from the shore, while singing to himself: “I will end their life, And I will end mine. I hear the birds singing That sing in the spring-time, So I am going,” And he upset his bidarka and drowned himself.

THE BROTHER AND SISTER WHO BECAME HAIR-SEALS Tradition Bearer: “Chief” of Unga Island Source: Golder, F. A. “Aleutian Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 221–22. Date: 1905 Original Source: Aleut National Origin: Native American

As noted in the introduction to “Qautipalung” (p. 145), members of Arctic bands deemed nonproductive—whether due to gender, age, or social violations—often are expunged from the band. This tale has an ending very much like the conclusion of “The Man and Woman Who Became Seaotters” (p. 146). The motif is known throughout the Aleutian Islands.

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n a certain family there were twelve brothers and one sister. She lived in a hut away from the rest of the family. There were no other men living in the neighborhood, and so she was somewhat surprised when some man came to see her at night.

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The Northwest | The Brother and Sister Who Became Hair-Seals

She did not know who it was, but suspected that it was one of her brothers, and in order to find out which one of them it was, she prepared some red paint, and when the man was about to leave she dipped her hands into the paint and put them on his shoulders. The next day, as all her brothers were outside playing, she went among them and detected marks of paint on the shoulders of the oldest. Going back to her barrabara (indigenous dwelling), she sharpened her knife and placed it alongside of her. That night, as usual, the man came and slept with her, but as he started to leave she threw her knife at him and cut the sinews of one of his legs. The following morning she went about her work as customary, when someone came to announce that her oldest brother was sick, the sinews of one of his legs being cut. She went to him, got him out of bed, and set off with him. Their mother, learning the state of affairs, said, “We reared them that they might be a help to us and work for us; but now they have gone and ruined themselves.” The two went a long distance until they arrived at the bluff, over which they threw themselves, and a short time after they appeared as hair-seals.

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THE WOMAN WHO WAS FOND OF INTESTINES Tradition Bearer: Mrs. C. A. Anderson Source: Golder, F. A. “Aleutian Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 215–20. Date: 1905 Original Source: Aleut National Origin: Native American

Historically, law among the Eskimo, Aleuts, and many other societies was customary law; it rested on custom, tradition, and taboo. The society at large would not move to settle grievances, rather it was the parties involved who sought justice. Just as the society would not act to insure justice, neither would it come between disputants. In the case of murder, the family of the victim sought revenge, as in the following narrative. While the avengers in this tale use supernatural power to convert themselves into wild animals, the major focus of the plot is on social justice for the wronged wife.


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nce there lived an Aleut with his wife and little boy. The wife was very fond of intestines, and early each morning the husband would go out in his bidark (kayak) hunting, and return in the evening with a boat full of intestines which he gave to his wife, telling her to keep what she wanted for herself, and distribute the rest among her neighbors. The wife was somewhat puzzled by the husband’s actions; she could not understand why he went so early in the morning, where he got so many intestines, or his reasons for wishing to have them distributed among the villagers. She, of course, did not know that her husband had a mistress in the village, whom he went to see while his wife was asleep, and that he desired the intestines distributed in order that his wife’s rival might have a share. All of a sudden, without explanations, the man ceased going out early, and when he did go, he came back but lightly loaded. This did not in the least clear up the mystery to the wife. But one day, when he had gone somewhat later than usually, his mistress called on his wife, whom she found busy sewing a kamalayka (waterproof shirt) out of the intestines her husband brought. The two got into a conversation, and, among other questions, the mistress asked: “Does your husband love you?” “Yes.” “Do you love him?” “Yes.” “Do you know where he gets all the intestines?” “No.” “Can you guess why he has them distributed over the village?” “No.” “I will tell you,” said the mistress, “but you must not tell him I told you. Every day your husband goes to the village where your parents and relatives live and where you lived before your marriage, and kills the people there and brings their intestines to you. Yesterday there were but five people remaining in the village: your mother, your two sisters, and two brothers. He killed your mother and sisters yesterday, and today he went to bring the intestines of your brothers. He is in love with another woman of this village, whom he visits nightly when you have fallen asleep.” With this parting shot she left the house, leaving the poor wife weeping so bitterly that the kamalayka was hot from her tears. For the rest of the day she did not stir from the house, but sat lamenting and sewing. Towards evening her little boy rushed in announcing the approach of his father, which she generally anticipated with pleasure, and always went down to the beach to meet him; but this time she neither answered nor made the least motion. A few minutes later

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the little son came again saying, “Father is here,” but all the reply he got was a new outburst of weeping. Missing the usual meeting and greeting of his wife, the father asked the little boy where his mother was, and when told of the state she was in, he hastened to the house, where he found her on the floor shedding bitter tears and sewing the kamalayka. “Why do you weep? Has someone offended you?” “No one has offended me.” “Why then this lamentation?” “I was thinking of my mother, sisters, and brothers, and my other relatives in my native village, and I wondered how they were getting along, and this made me weep.” He did not attempt to cheer her, but after a pause he said, “I did not kill many animals today—two only.” This enraged her so that she jumped up from the floor, picked up the little boy, who was near her, and threw him at him, saying, “If my two brothers do not satisfy you, take him also.” The boy’s forehead came in contact with the edge of a sharp knife on the father’s breast, making quite a gash from which the blood flowed freely. This the mother noticed before escaping out of the house. Putting aside the boy, the man made a dash for the woman, but she got out of his reach, and being the better runner of the two he did not succeed in laying hands on her. She would let him come up quite close to her, and then dash away again until he saw the hopelessness of the chase and gave it up. In a short time the boy’s wound healed, but it left a very noticeable scar. Now that his mother was gone, his father placed him in the care of his sister, with instructions that he should under no circumstances be allowed to go very far from home. In this manner he passed a few years longer, until he became the proud possessor of a bow and arrows, with which he often amused himself. One day, while indulging in his favorite sport, he began to wonder why his father and aunt forbade his going far from the house; and the more he thought about it the more anxious did he become to go, until he finally concluded “to go just a little distance beyond that hill to see what is there.” On the way he noticed a hillock just ahead of him, at which he discharged his arrow, then ran and got it, aimed at another and another, and became so absorbed in this amusement that he did not observe how far from home it was taking him. One hillock somewhat different from the others especially attracted his attention as offering a good mark. He took aim and sent his arrow flying right into the centre of it; but what was his surprise on approaching the supposed hillock to discover that it was a barrabara (dwelling), and that the arrow had

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gone inside through the hole in the top. When he peeped in, he was frightened at the sight of a very wild-looking woman who stared at him, and he began to cry. “Why do you cry?” the woman asked. “I want my arrow.” “Come in and get it,” the woman invited. But he was too scared to do that; he however got up courage enough to stick his foot in, hoping to draw it out that way, and he had nearly succeeded when he heard the woman move. At this he ran away in tears. The woman called him back, saying: “Do not be afraid of me. I am your mother. It is I who threw you at your father, making the scar on your forehead. Come in, I will not harm you.” When he saw that it was really his mother, he went to her and remained with her two days. During that time she told him his father’s wicked deeds, how he mistreated and neglected her for another, and finally wrought on him so that he swore he would revenge her wrongs. She bade him go home, but attempt nothing for the present, and make no mention of what he had seen and heard. During the boy’s absence the father was away hunting, but the aunt was quite worked up over the long absence, and ran about the fields looking for him. When he returned she asked him all sorts of questions as to his whereabouts, but all the satisfaction she got from him was that he had lost his way and could not get back. She offered him food, which he refused to touch, and finally refused to answer her when spoken to. Toward evening of the same day his father returned, and, when told that the boy would neither eat nor drink, asked what was the matter with him; but for an answer the boy turned his back on him and went to sleep. The father then inquired of the aunt whether anything unusual had occurred and whether the boy had been far from home, and to all this she replied that all during his father’s absence, the boy’s life had gone on as ordinarily, and that he was not out of sight of the house the whole time. As the boy grew older he avoided his father more and more, and when he reached early manhood the father lost control over him and actually feared him. One day, while the older man was away hunting, the young man took his bow and arrows, some food and water, and set out to see his mother. Before going, he told his aunt that he intended going quite a distance from home, and not to be, therefore, uneasy over his long absence. He went to the place where he had last seen his mother, and, as she was not there, he wandered on until on the following day he came in sight of some barrabaras (native dwellings) and two men. They answered him when he spoke to them, but when he wished to enter into

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one of the barrabaras they barred his way. While they were thus disputing, his mother appeared on the scene and motioned to the men to let him pass. When he came inside he was greatly surprised at the quantity of furs that was lying about in great disorder, and at the abundance of meats and other eatables that he found there. He was certain he had never seen anything like it before. After eating, his mother told him to spend the night there, and in the morning take as many of the best furs as he could carry and go back to the village of his father, in order to tempt him and his relatives to come hunting in this neighborhood, which would offer an opportunity to repay him for what he had done. The boy did as he was told, took with him a heavy load of precious furs, and started back. In his absence, the mother and the people with whom she was living made elaborate and crafty preparations for the reception of the expected guests. In the large barrabara, where the feasts and dances were always held and where visitors were generally received, quantities of oil were sprinkled about and covered up with grass. Along the walls seal-bladders full of oil were concealed, and screened with straw mats. And in this place the visitors were to be received. The young man’s father was home on his return, and received the present of furs which his son made him with much pleasure, for the boy seemed so kindly disposed that the father hoped that his natural affection for his parent had returned. He inquired the whereabouts of the hunting grounds where the son had secured these skins, and the latter told him that it was not very far, and that it was very rich, and that he planned to go back the next day to the same place, and if he and his men cared to accompany him, he would be glad to show them the way. His offer was accepted, and the following morning a large party left the village for the hunting ground. Some of the people of the mother’s village had been on the look-out, and when they saw the large party approaching, they changed themselves into wild beasts: bears, wolves, foxes, etc. The hunters marked them and shot at them, but it had no other result than to drive the beasts nearer and nearer to the village. These tactics the men-beasts repeated until the hunters were decoyed into the village. Seeing so many barrabaras, the men asked the boy who the people were that lived in them. “They are friendly people,” he replied, “with whom I spent the night the last time I was in this neighborhood. Tomorrow morning we will go to the other side of the village, where there is a great deal of game.” The people of the village greeted them very cordially, and assigned a place for the night to each one of them; the father and son were given the barrabara where the latter had been entertained on his previous visit. Although the mother was in the same room with them, they were not aware of it, for she had concealed herself. Everywhere about them were scattered the richest furs, and

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the food before them was the choicest and best, and so much of it that it rather made the older man uneasy, for, though an old hunter, he had never seen anything like it before. In the evening, all the people of the village, including the guests, went to the large dance-hall, where the formal reception was held and the guests entertained as was customary. One by one they descended through the hole in the roof, the only entrance there was. The interior was lighted up by two rows of stone lamps filled with oil, and grass wicks. On one side of the room sat the local men, while the visitors faced them from the other; the centre was occupied by the women, and on the two sides sat seven or eight men with drums in their hands, on which they played and accompanied their singing. They would take turns; first the local men would sing their local songs, and then the visitors sang theirs. To this music the women danced with men whom they invited from either side. Everything moved along smoothly and joyfully until the father recognized his wife among the women. She was dancing and moving towards him. At this sight he turned pale and looked for away to get out, but the ladder had been removed. The woman moved up to him, grasped his hand, and dragged him to dance, but he resisted. The boy, who sat near, urged him and pushed him on, but all in vain. Then the woman began to sing him a song in which she went over all his misdeeds, his unfaithfulness, his cruelties, his falsehoods, as well as many of his other shortcomings, and concluded with these words, “You and your men shall never leave this place alive.” When she had said this, all the local people, including the mother and son, were turned into birds or flying insects and flew out through the hole in the roof. The visitors, unable to follow them, remained behind. On the outside grass and wood were ignited and thrown in, which set on fire the grass and oil inside. Then the smoke hole was stopped up, and in this way all those who were inside were smothered to death. A few days later the son went to his father’s village, destroying it as completely as his father had destroyed his mother’s. He spared, however, his aunt, whom he brought back with him.

THE MADDEST MAN IN TOWN Tradition Bearer: Charles Imus Source: Haight, Willliam C. “Interview of Charles Imus.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 14 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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The Northwest | The Maddest Man in Town

Date: 1939 Original Source: Oregon National Origin: Irish American

Although the church is charged with sacred power, in most contexts it wields considerable secular power as well. The following personal experience narrative reveals the reason for and means by which a quarrel between a local priest and member of his congregation lead to a family’s being ostracized.

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re ya religious? If ya are I won’t tell this story. Awright, I guess it won’t hurt ya none to hear it. It’s about old man Donovan. He was as good a Catholic as I ever knew, until he got mad once. Then he was mad for 17 years—the maddest man in town. Ye-up, dingblasted mad and powerful mizzur’ble. Considering all in all, I reckon his being mad so long set a record of sorts for the whole danged county. You’re right, the old duffer was an Irishman. Being Irish, it didn’t take much to start his blood a-boilin’. A kinda small man, inclined to be delicate, with long gray whiskers and a sizable mustache, he was quite a Injun on the warpath. His long gray chin whiskers would wave in the air sorta like they was fannin’ the cuss words to take the heat offa them an they came out. Well, among other things he had two kids, Harry and Joe. Harry was the little bugger and Joe was the big one. Joe was might nigh six-four. Joe bein’ so tall and me bein’ considerable shorter didn’t no way effect our fightin’ nearly every day at school. I reckon that was mainly why I went—so I could wallop Joe up; an’ then got walloped up by Joe. We both seemed to like it. One day I went to school prepared to give Joe a walloping, since he’d done walloped me the day before. But Joe wasn’t there. Right away, I figgered somethin’ mighty darned important musta happened to keep Joe from coming to school that day. Sure ’nuff, school hadn’t been took up more’n a little while when somebody came by and told us old man Donovan had died. Soon’s the teacher heard this she dismissed school. Seems like the widow Donovan was a-needin’ some help at the house, so the teacher asked my side-kick, Bill, the long ’un, and me to go up there. Seein’ as how my old man was the undertaker and had already loaned her

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the money to send for the priest to come and pray Donovan out of purgatory, I guess the teacher thought I was the one to send. Bill allus went where I did, him and me bein’ the long an’ short of it, as folks’d say. Mrs. Donovan had to send to Vancouver for a priest, and the fellow that come was purty old and mighty set in his ways. I reckon he figgered he was close to God and didn’t mind to allow he knew purty near as much. And he did his job all right. After he got settled he put on all his robes and started to work. Him and Dad laid Donovan out on a board supported by two chairs, threw a sheet over him and put the required number of candles at his head and feet. Then the priest prayed and sprinkled water, and prayed and sprinkled water some more, till old man Donovan was prayed and sprayed out of purgatory. Soon’s the priest left, Bill and me was delegated to sit in the kitchen and watch the corpse, which was in the next room. Donovan, bein’ an Irishman, his passin’ naturally allowed for a make. So every Irishman and German within forty miles came to set up for the night. The Germans in our part was not much on wakin’ the dead, but because they was mighty thick with the Irish they was willing to help the Irish wake their dead ’uns. All foreigners in them days stuck purty close together, ya know. These wakers set around in another room with the family, and were a-passin’ a sociable evenin’. Most of ’em were drinkin’ out of a couple of demijohns I saw on the table when some Irishman stuck his head out the door to see if Donovan was a-lyin’ out right. The rest of the people were a-playin’ cards and talkin’ to the widow. Seems as though they’d drink, play cards awhile, then the widow’d wail a bit. Me and Bill bein’ too young to wake had to pass the time tryin’ to read in the kitchen. This was kinda hard to do. The house was built on a hill, almost the crest, causin’ the shakes to catch all the wind. That old wind would howl a mighty bit when she’d hit the shakes. The wind a-howlin’, coupled with the wail of the wakers, sort of discommoded Bill and me. Bill was plenty scairt anyhow. Donovan was the first corpse he’d ever been around. So’s all that howlin’ had Bill a-settin’ mighty uncomfortable like in his chair, and kept me kinda on the uneasy side. All of a sudden Bill and me heard the consarndest noise I’ve ever heard, or expect to hear. Bill jumped from his chair scairt like and says, kind of quavery like, “What’s that?” By this time I’m a-standin’ on my feet and a-listenin’. Sure ’nuff! ’Tweren’t the mind nor the wakers—the sound was a-comin’ from that corpse. Now, Bill, not a-takin’ his job none too good no ways, decided he wanted to leave. “Shucks,” I says to Bill, tryin’ to calm him, “its probably the cat.” God! I thought that was terrible. Here them wakers were a-dependin’ on Bill and me

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to watch the corpse and we’d done let the cat in! I told Bill to be real quiet like and we wouldn’t disturb nothin’, and to bring the metal-plated lamp along so’s we could see. Bill and me sort of crept into the room. Soon’s the light hit that corpse we could see the sheet a goin’ up and down, up and down, with the awfullest noise a-comin’ out from under it. Bill takes a good look, tries to hand me the rattlin’ lamp, shakin’ his hands, and says, “By God, I’m a-gettin’ out of here!” He shoves the lamp in my hand and runs like a scairt rabbit for home. I figgers him bein’ so much bigger’n me, there’s a lot more of him scairt than there is of me, so I goes up closer. For a spell I watched. Then I goes over and gingerly lifts up the sheet, sort of expectin’ to see the cat. By that time some of the wakers heard the noise and came edging in to see what it was all about. Well, I’ll be dingblasted if old man Donovan wasn’t a-breathin’. Yes air, the old coot was as alive as you or me right now. That peculiar noise we’d been hearin’ under the sheet was him a-breathin’. Right away the fellers picked him up and toted him into the bedroom. They wrapped warm blankets-round him and nursed him back to full breath. Purty soon he took a pull at the demijohn hisself. And was his wife happy! Everybody was real excited. In a few days Donovan was out on the streets again, a well man. He lived for 17 years more. And here’s what made him mad all that time: The priest, bein’ mighty set in his ways, wouldn’t let Donovan nor his family go to church no more. He figgered Donovan had pulled the trick of playin’ possum on him. And even if he hadn’t it looked like God thought the old cuss was such a sinner that he had to be sent back to earth. Anyway, the priest said he had prayed old Donovan out of purgatory and now he was beyond the jurisdiction of the Church. Mad? I reckon there never was a madder Irishman than old man Donovan. You could just see it boiling out of him as he walked down the street. If you wanted to see them chin whiskers of his fan the air, you only had to mention purgatory or the priest to him. His old lady got to swearin’ like a trooper, and between the two of ’em I guess they really told the priest off. Ye-up. Donovan stayed mad for 17 years. Maybe be still is, I don’t profess to know. A freight train finally put an end to his mortal life; it took that to kill him. But he had to die sometime.

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APPENDIX

Cyberspace

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n terms of the concept of region that has been advanced so far in The Greenwood Library of American Folktales, the texts offered in this appendix do not circulate within a contiguous, geographically defined region of the United States, although many do speak to regional concerns or articulate local stereotypes (see, for example, “How Many Aggie Foremen Does It Take,” p. 187). These electronically circulated traditions do, however, articulate the hopes and anxieties of our contemporary computer-connected society. A certain familiarity with the issues and contexts of each of the following examples is taken for granted. Therefore, although the following tales are categorized in the same fashion as the traditional tales, no introductions are given; the examples will be allowed to speak for themselves.

ORIGINS

KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN BECOMES KFC Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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his is Very Disturbing—this was sent to me so I’m just sharing the information. KFC has been a part of our American traditions for many years. Many people, day in and day out, eat at KFC religiously. Do they really know what they are eating? During a recent study of KFC done at the University of New Hampshire, they found some very upsetting facts. First of all, has anybody noticed that just recently, the company has changed their name? Kentucky Fried Chicken has become KFC. Does anybody know why? We thought the real reason was because of the “FRIED” food issue. It’s not. The reason why they call it KFC is because they can not use the word chicken anymore. Why? KFC does not use real chickens. They actually use genetically manipulated organisms. These so-called “chickens” are kept alive by tubes inserted into their bodies to pump blood and nutrients throughout their structure. They have no beaks, no feathers, and no feet. Their bone structure is dramatically shrunk to get more meat out of them. This is great for KFC because they do not have to pay so much for their production costs. There is no more plucking of the feathers or the removal of the beaks and feet.


The government has told them to change all of their menus so they do not say chicken anywhere. If you look closely you will notice this. Listen to their commercials, I guarantee you will not see or hear the word “chicken.” I find this matter to be very disturbing. I hope people will start to realize this and let other people know. Please forward this message to as many people as you can. Together we make KFC start using real chicken again.

JOHN KERRY’S MEDALS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2004 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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his was written by a retired admiral and Annapolis graduate. The item offers no direct testimony about Kerry, but it does provide informed background useful in assessing what Kerry seems to have claimed for himself. It confirms information I have received from other sources. Our media should be demanding that Senator Kerry open his service records in the same way they demanded that of President Bush regarding his National Guard service. I was in the Delta shortly after he [Kerry] left. I know that area well. I know the operations he was involved in well. I know the tactics and the doctrine used. I know the equipment. Although I was attached to CTF-116 (PBRs) I spent a fair amount of time with CTF-115 (swift boats), Kerry’s command. Here are my problems and suspicions: (1) Kerry was in-country less than four months and collected a Bronze Star, a Silver Star, and three purple hearts. I never heard of anybody with any outfit I worked with (including SEAL One, the Sea Wolves, Riverines, and the River Patrol Force) collecting that much hardware so fast, and for such pedestrian actions. The Swifts did a commendable job. But that duty wasn’t the worst you could draw. They operated only along the coast and in the major rivers (Bassac and Mekong). The rough stuff in the hot areas was mainly handled by the smaller, faster PBRs.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | John Kerry’s Medals

(2) Three Purple Hearts, but no limp. All injuries so minor that no time lost from duty. Amazing luck. Or he was putting himself in for medals every time he bumped his head on the wheel house hatch? Combat on the boats was almost always at close range. You didn’t have minor wounds. At least not often. Not three times in a row. Then he used the three purple hearts to request a trip home eight months before the end of his tour. Fishy. (3) The details of the event for which he was given the Silver Star make no sense at all. Supposedly, a B-40 was fired at the boat and missed. Charlie jumps up with the launcher in his hand, the bow gunner knocks him down with the twin .50, Kerry beaches the boat, jumps off, shoots Charlie, and retrieves the launcher. If true, he did everything wrong. (a) Standard procedure when you took rocket fire was to put your stern to the action and go balls to the wall. A B-40 has the ballistic integrity of a Frisbee after about 25 yards, so you put 50 yards or so between you and the beach and begin raking it with your .50’s. (b) Did you ever see anybody get knocked down with a .50 caliber round and get up? The guy was dead or dying. The rocket launcher was empty. There was no reason to go after him (except if you knew he was no danger to you just flopping around in the dust during his last few seconds on earth, and you wanted some derring-do in your after-action report). And we didn’t shoot wounded people. We had rules against that, too. (c) Kerry got off the boat. This was a major breach of standing procedures. Nobody on a boat crew ever got off a boat in a hot area. EVER! The reason was simple. If you had somebody on the beach your boat was defenseless. It couldn’t run and it couldn’t return fire. It was stupid and it put his crew in danger. He should have been relieved and reprimanded. I never heard of any boat crewman ever leaving a boat during or after a firefight. Something is fishy. Here we have a JFK wannabe (the guy Halsey wanted to court martial for carelessly losing his boat and getting a couple people killed by running across the bow of a Jap destroyer) who is hardly in Vietnam long enough to get good tan, collects medals faster than Audie Murphy in a job where lots of medals weren’t common, gets sent home eight months early, requests separation from active duty a few months after that so he can run for Congress, finds out war heroes don’t sell well in Massachusetts in 1970 so reinvents himself as Jane Fonda, throws his ribbons in the dirt with the cameras running to jump start his political career, gets Stillborn Pell to invite him to address Congress and Bobby Kennedy’s speechwriter to do the heavy lifting, winds up in the Senate himself a few years later, votes against every major defense bill, says the CIA is irrelevant

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after the Wall came down, votes against the Gulf War, a big mistake since that turned out well, decides not to make the same mistake twice so votes for invading Iraq, but oops, that didn’t turn out so well so he now says he really didn’t mean for Bush to go to war when he voted to allow him to go to war. I’m real glad you or I never had this guy covering our flanks in Vietnam. I sure don’t want him as Commander in Chief. I hope that somebody from CTF115 shows up with some facts challenging Kerry’s Vietnam record. I know in my gut it’s wildly inflated. And fishy.

RED BULL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ver wondered what’s in a can of Red Bull Energy drink? The small print lists a host of ingredients and among them is Glucuronolactone, an artificially manufactured stimulant developed in the early ’60s by the American Government. Glucuronolactone was first used in the Vietnam conflict to boost morale amongst GI’s who were suffering from stress and fatigue, but was banned after a few years following several deaths and hundreds of cases involving anything from severe migraines to brain tumors in personnel prescribed the stimulant. That was in 1973 and Glucuronolactone is still banned for commercial consumption in America this day. The bad news is that the substance never found it’s way to Europe in the early days and was therefore never banned by the EU community. An article in this month’s edition of the British Medical Journal has highlighted a growing number of cases reported by doctors and surgeons involving the very same side effects from the ’70s. All of the patients examined were regular drinkers of Red Bull and it is believed that the safety of Glucuronolactone is currently under review in at least three major European countries. Please pass this on to any Red Bull drinkers you know, and next time you get a headache after drinking the stuff, you’ll know why!

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CHRONIC DEHYDRATION Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2004 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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i all. This came from one of my wellness groups and thought I’d pass it on. Especially true after exercise, injury, massage, etc. that release poisons into the system. Remember what I said about chronic low-level dehydration. But I won’t say I told you so.... 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated. In 37% of Americans, the thirst mechanism is so weak that it is often mistaken for hunger. Even mild dehydration will slow down one’s metabolism as much as 3%. One glass of water shut down midnight hunger pangs for almost 100% of the dieters studied in a U-Washington study. Lack of water is the number one trigger of daytime fatigue. Preliminary research indicates that 8 to 10 glasses of water a day could significantly ease back and joint pain for up to 80% of sufferers. A mere 2% drop in body water can trigger fuzzy short-term memory, trouble with basic math, and difficulty focusing on the computer screen or on a printed page. Drinking 5 glasses of water daily decreases the risk of colon cancer by 45%, plus it can slash the risk of breast cancer by 79%, and one is 50% less likely to develop bladder cancer. Are you drinking a healthy amount of water each day?

SPIELBERG’S CRUSADE (PARODY?) Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2004

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Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ollywood megahit producer and director Steven Spielberg has decided to fight fire with fire. He’s announced that since Mel Gibson is fueling the fires of anti-Semitism in the world with his movie about the last hours of Christ, Spielberg will make a graphic movie about the Crusades. “In order to get Jews and Moslems to convert to Christianity,” Spielberg commented, “Christians went through Europe and into the Middle East forcing conversions on nonbelievers. Along the way they raped, beat, bludgeoned, maimed, tortured, and killed hundreds of thousands of innocent men, women, and children. I will show Christian brutality in a realistic and most graphic and gory way.” Spielberg went on to add that the movie will have a well-deserved antiChristian tone. “Let’s face it, Gibson wants to blame the Jews for the death of one person we didn’t even kill. I will show the inhuman brutality of thousands of Christians against hundreds of thousands of people of other faiths, about which historically there is no ambiguity as to who is to blame.” Spielberg said that if this movie is successful, he is likely to follow it up with The Spanish Inquisition, a historical film on the torture and murder of the Jews of Spain by the Catholic Church. “To complete the trilogy,” Spielberg announced, “in 2006 I will be filming Hitler and the Pope: A Team Formed in Hell.” That should generate some heated debate.

LIFE WITHOUT BLACK PEOPLE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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very humorous and revealing story is told about a group of white people who were fed up with African Americans, so they joined together and wished themselves away. They passed through a deep dark tunnel and emerged in sort of a twilight zone where there is an America without black people.

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At first these white people breathed a sigh of relief. At last, they said, “No more crime, drugs, violence, and welfare. All of the blacks have gone!” Then suddenly, reality set in. The “NEW AMERICA” is not America at all—only a barren land. 1. There are very few crops that have flourished because the nation was built on a slave-supported system. 2. There are no cities with tall skyscrapers because Alexander Mils, a black man, invented the elevator, and without it, one finds great difficulty reaching higher floors. 3. There are few if any cars because Richard Spikes, a black man, invented the automatic gearshift, Joseph Gambol, also black, invented the Super Charge System for Internal Combustion Engines, and Garrett A. Morgan, a black man, invented the traffic signals. 4. Furthermore, one could not use the rapid transit system because its procurer was the electric trolley, which was invented by another black man, Albert R. Robinson. 5. Even if there were streets on which cars and a rapid transit system could operate, they were cluttered with paper because an African American, Charles Brooks, invented the street sweeper. 6. There were few if any newspapers, magazines, and books because John Love invented the pencil sharpener, William Purveys invented the fountain pen, and Lee Barrage invented the Type Writing Machine and W. A. Love invented the Advanced Printing Press. They were all, you guessed it, Black. 7. Even if Americans could write their letters, articles, and books, they would not have been transported by mail because William Barry invented the Postmarking and Canceling Machine, William Purveys invented the Hand Stamp and Philip Downing invented the Letter Drop. 8. The lawns were brown and wilted because Joseph Smith invented the Lawn Sprinkler and John Burr the Lawn Mower. 9. When they entered their homes, they found them to be poorly ventilated and poorly heated. You see, Frederick Jones invented the Air Conditioner and Alice Parker the Heating Furnace. Their homes were also dim. But of course, Lewis Later invented the Electric Lamp, Michael Harvey invented the Lantern and Granville T. Woods invented the Automatic Cut-off Switch. Their homes were also filthy because Thomas W. Steward invented the Mop and Lloyd P. Ray the Dust Pan. 10. Their children met them at the door—barefooted, shabby, motley, and unkempt. But what could one expect? Jan E. Matzelinger invented the Shoe

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Lasting Machine, Walter Sammons invented the Comb, Sarah Boone invented the Ironing Board and George T. Samon invented the Clothes Dryer. 11. Finally, they were resigned to at least have dinner amidst all of this turmoil. But here again, the food had spoiled because another Black Man, John Standard, invented the refrigerator. Now, isn’t that something? What would this country be like without the contributions of Blacks, as African Americans? Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “by the time we leave for work, Americans have depended on the inventions from the minds of Blacks.” Black history includes more than just slavery, Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Marcus Garvey, and W. E. B. Du Bois. PLEASE SHARE, ABUNDANTLY.

WHY WE LOVE CHILDREN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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kindergarten pupil told his teacher he’d found a cat, but it was dead. “How do you know that the cat was dead?” she asked her pupil. “Because I pissed in its ear and it didn’t move,” answered the child innocently. “You did WHAT?!?” the teacher exclaimed in surprise. “You know,” explained the boy, “I leaned over and went ‘Pssst!’ and it didn’t move.” 2. A small boy is sent to bed by his father. Five minutes later ... “Da-ad....” “What?” “I’m thirsty. Can you bring drink of water?” “No, You had your chance. Lights out.”

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Five minutes later: “Da-aaaad....” “WHAT?” “I’m THIRSTY. Can I have a drink of water??” “I told you NO! If you ask again, I’ll have to spank you!!” Five minutes later ... “Daaaa-aaaad....” “WHAT!” “When you come in to spank me, can you bring a drink of water?” 3. An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him: “How do you expect to get into Heaven?” The boy thought it over and said, “Well, I’ll run in and out and in and out and keep slamming the door until St. Peter says, ‘For Heaven’s sake, Dylan, come in or stay out!’” 4. One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm a mother was tucking her son into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, “Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?” The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. “I can’t dear,” she said. “I have to sleep in Daddy’s room.” A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice: “The big sissy.” 5. It was that time, during the Sunday morning service, for the children’s sermon. All the children were invited to come forward. One little girl was wearing a particularly pretty dress and, as she sat down, the pastor leaned over and said, “That is a very pretty dress. Is it your Easter Dress?” The little girl replied, directly into the pastor’s clip-on microphone, “Yes, and my Mom says it’s a bitch to iron.” 6. When I was six months pregnant with my third child, my three year old came into the room. I was just getting ready to get into the shower. She said, “Mommy, you are getting fat!” I replied, “Yes, honey, remember Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy.” “I know,” she replied, but what’s growing in your butt?” 7. A little boy was doing his math homework.

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He said to himself, “Two plus five, that son of a bitch is seven. Three plus six, that son of a bitch is nine....” His mother heard what he was saying and gasped, “What are you doing?” The little boy answered, “I’m doing my math homework, Mom.” “And this is how your teacher taught you to do it?” the mother asked. “Yes,” he answered. Infuriated, the mother asked the teacher the next day, “What are you teaching my son in math?” The teacher replied, “Right now, we are learning addition.” The mother asked, “And are you teaching them to say two plus two, that son of a bitch is four?” After the teacher stopped laughing, she answered, “What I taught them was, two plus two, THE SUM OF WHICH, is four.” 8. One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of Chicken Little to her class. She came to the part of the story where Chicken Little tried to warn the farmer. She read, “... and so Chicken Little went up to the farmer and said, “The sky is falling, the sky is falling!” The teacher paused then asked the class, “And what do you think that farmer said?” One little girl raised her hand and said, “I think he said: ‘Holy Shit! A talking chicken!’” The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes. 9. A certain little girl, when asked her name, would reply, “I’m Mr. Sugarbrown’s daughter.” Her mother told her this was wrong, she must say, “I’m Jane Sugarbrown.” The Vicar spoke to her in Sunday School, and said, “Aren’t you Mr. Sugarbrown’s daughter?” She replied, “I thought I was, but mother says I’m not.” 10. A little girl asked her mother, “Can I go outside and play with the boys?” Her mother replied, “No, you can’t play with the boys, they’re too rough.” The little girl thought about it for a few moments and asked, “If I can find a smooth one, can I play with him?” Now keep that smile on your face and pass it on to someone else!!

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HEROES, HEROINES, TRICKSTERS, AND FOOLS MR. JONES’S ADVICE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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92-year-old, petite, well-poised, and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably coifed and shaved perfectly applied, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready. As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window. “I love it,” he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. “Mr. Jones, you haven’t seen the room; just wait.” “That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” he replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. “It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body


that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away. Just for this time in my life. Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories. Thank you for your part in filling my memory bank. I am still depositing.” Remember the five simple rules to be happy: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Free your heart from hatred. Free your mind from worries. Live simply. Give more. Expect less.

Pass this message to 7 people except me. You will receive a miracle tomorrow. Now, STOP! Did you hear what I just said. You WILL receive a miracle tomorrow. So send it right now!

AN ACT OF KINDNESS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ubject: Let’s see if you send it back. We all know or knew someone like this!! One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd. I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | An Act of Kindness

They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.” He looked at me and said, “Hey thanks!” There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, “Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday! He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn’t me having to get up there and speak. Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!” He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. “Thanks!” he said.

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As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began “Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach ... but mostly your friends ... I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.” I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn’t have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. “Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.” I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person’s life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other’s lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others. You now have two choices, you can: 1) Pass this on to your friends or 2) Delete it and act like it didn’t touch your heart. As you can see, I took choice number 1. “Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.” There is no beginning or end. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift. It’s National Friendship Week. Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND. If it comes back to you, then you’ll know you have a circle of friends. WHEN YOU RECEIVE THIS LETTER, YOU’RE REQUESTED TO SEND IT TO AT LEAST 10 PEOPLE, INCLUDING THE PERSON WHO SENT IT TO YOU.

THE NAVY SEAL AND THE ATHEIST Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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Appendix: Cyberspace | T-Bone Steak

Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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wo things Navy SEALS are always taught: 1. Keep your priorities in order 2. Know when to act without hesitation A college professor, an avowed atheist and active in the ACLU, was teaching his class. He shocked several of his students when he flatly stated that once and for all he was going to prove there was no God. Addressing the ceiling he shouted: “GOD, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I’ll give you exactly 15 minutes!!!!! The lecture room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Ten minutes went by. “I’m waiting, God, if you’re real knock me off this platform!!!” Again after 4 minutes, the professor taunted God saying, “Here I am, God!!! I’m still waiting!!!” His count down got down to the last couple of minutes when a SEAL, just released from the Navy after serving in Afghanistan and Iraq and newly registered in the class, walked up to the Professor. The SEAL hit him full force in the face, and sent the Professor tumbling from his lofty platform. The Professor was out cold!! The students were stunned and shocked. They began to babble in confusion. The SEAL nonchalantly took his seat in the front row and sat silent. The class looked at him and fell silent ... waiting. Eventually, the professor came to and was noticeably shaken. He looked at the SEAL in the front row. When the professor regained his senses and could speak he asked: “What the hell is the matter with you? Why did you do that”? “God was really busy, protecting America’s soldiers, who are protecting your right to say stupid shit and act like an asshole, so he sent me!!”

T-BONE STEAK Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005

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ere’s to T-bone steaks, yellow roses, and friendship. READ THIS!!!! And then reread it. Especially the last part... I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn’t hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 57 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories. He often came with me and almost every time he’d pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I’d always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. He knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since he had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two. Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how he had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim, and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large package of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and she smiled. “My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don’t know.” I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. “My husband passed away eight days ago,” I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. “Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together.” She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away. I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A quart, I finally decided, and moved on to the ice cream. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking toward me, her eyes holding mine.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | T-Bone Steak

As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. “These are for you,” she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. “When you go through the line, they will know these are paid for.” She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again. I wanted to tell her what she’d done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know? Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn’t alone. “Oh, you haven’t forgotten me, have you?” I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel. Every day be thankful for what you have and who you are. (Please read all of this, it is really nice) This is a simple request. If you appreciate life, send this to your friends, including the person that sent it to you. Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings. Thank you, Lord, that I can hear. There are many who are deaf. Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long as possible. Thank you, Lord, that I can see. Many are blind. Even though I huddle in my bed and put off rising. Thank you, Lord, that I have the strength to rise. There are many who are bedridden. Even though the first hour of my day is hectic, when socks are lost, toast is burned, tempers are short, and my children are so loud. Thank you, Lord, for my family. There are many who are lonely. Even though our breakfast table never looks like the picture in magazines and the menu is at times unbalanced. Thank you, Lord, for the food we have. There are many who are hungry. Even though the routine of my job often is monotonous. Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to work. There are many who have no job. Even though I grumble and bemoan my fate from day to day and wish my circumstances were not so modest. Thank you, Lord, for life. Pass this on to the friends you know. It might help a bit to make this world a better place to live, right? A friend is someone we turn to when our spirits need a lift. A friend is someone to treasure. For friendship is a gift. A friend is someone who fills our lives with Beauty, Joy, and Grace and makes the world we live in a better and happier place. YOU ARE MY FRIEND! God bless you and yours. Now send this to every friend you have and don’t forget me! “IN GOD I TRUST”

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GRANDMOTHER’S REVENGE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ey, I just got this in an E-mail and thought you might want to work this into your Intro to Folklore class somehow!

Gun-toting granny Ava Estelle, 81, was so ticked-off when two thugs raped her 18-year-old granddaughter that she tracked the unsuspecting ex-cons down—and shot their testicles off. “The old lady spent a week hunting those bums down—and when she found them, she took revenge on them in her own special way,” said admiring Melbourne police investigator Evan Delp. “Then she took a taxi to the nearest police station, laid the gun on the sergeant’s desk and told him as calm as could be: ‘Those bastards will never rape anybody again, by God.’” Cops say convicted rapist and robber Davis Furth, 33, lost both his penis and his testicles when outraged Ava opened fire with a 9–mm pistol in the seedy hotel room where he and former prison cellmate Stanley Thomas, 29, were holed up. The wrinkled avenger also blew Thomas’ testicles to kingdom come, but doctors managed to save his mangled penis, police said. “The one guy, Thomas, didn’t lose his manhood, but the doctor I talked to said he won’t be using it the way he used to,” Detective Delp told reporters. “Both men are still in pretty bad shape, but I think they’re just happy to be alive after what they’ve been through.” The Rambo Granny swung into action August 21 after her granddaughter Debbie was carjacked and raped by two knife-wielding creeps in a section of town bordering on skid row. “When I saw the look on my Debbie’s face that night in the hospital, I decided I was going to go out and get those bastards myself ’cause I figured the police would go easy on them,” recalled the retired library worker. “And I wasn’t scared of them, either—because I’ve got me a gun and I’ve been shootin’ it all my life.” So, using a police artist’s sketch of the suspects and Debbie’s description of the sickos’ car, tough-as-nails Ava spent seven days prowling the wino-infested

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Appendix: Cyberspace | A Patriot’s Answer to an Iraqi

neighborhood where the crime took place till she spotted the ill-fated rapists entering their flophouse hotel. “I knew it was them the minute I saw ’em, but I shot a picture of ’em anyway and took it back to Debbie and she said sure as hell, it was them,” the ornery oldster recalled. “So I went back to that hotel and found their room and knocked on the door—and the minute the big one, Furth, opened the door, I shot ’em, got right square between the legs, right where it would really hurt ’em most, you know. Then I went down to the police station and turned myself in.” Now, baffled lawmen are tying to figure out how to deal with the vigilante granny. “What she did was wrong, but you can’t really throw an 81-year-old woman in prison.” Det. Delp said, “especially when all 3 million people in the city want to nominate her for sainthood.”

A PATRIOT’S ANSWER TO AN IRAQI Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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etter From A Mom: One of my dear sons serves in the military. I’m a very proud Mom. He is still stateside here in California. He called me yesterday to let me know how warm and welcoming people were to him and his troops everywhere he goes. Telling me how people shake their hands, and thank them for being willing to serve and fight, for not only our own freedoms, but so that others may have them also. But he also told me about an incident in the grocery store where he stopped yesterday, on his way home from the base. He said that ahead of several people in front of him stood a woman dressed in a burka. He said when she got to the cashier she loudly remarked about the U.S. flag lapel pin the cashier wore on her smock. The cashier reached up and touched the pin, and said, “Yes, I always wear it.” The woman in the burka then asked the cashier when she was going to stop bombing her countrymen, explaining that she was an Iraqi.

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A gentleman standing behind my son stepped forward, putting his arm around my son’s shoulders, and nodding towards my son, said in a calm and gentle voice to the Iraqi woman, “Lady, hundreds of thousands of men and women like this young man have fought and died so that you could stand here, in MY country and accuse a checkout cashier of bombing your Countrymen. It is my belief that, had you been this outspoken in YOUR OWN country, we wouldn’t need to be there today. But, hey! If you have now learned how to speak out so loudly and clearly, I’ll gladly pay your way back to Iraq so you can straighten out the mess you are obviously here to avoid.” Everyone in line, and within hearing distance, cheered the older Gentleman, coming forward as they reached for their wallets. The woman in the burka left the store in silence. I am, like at least some that were in the store, outraged! But it also warmed my heart to know that we as Americans are speaking out, calmly and succinctly (finally) to those that enjoy the freedoms here in the U.S. God Bless America and Our Troops!

TEAMSTER BOYCOTT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ood Morning Friends, I have spoken with a few independent truckers in the past 24 hours, and they ALL have indicated to me that there will be a nationwide trucker strike by the Teamsters Union & Major Independents commencing between 8 & 12 September 2005. They will be protesting the high price of fuel nationwide, and intend to bring the Nation to her knees, as they did in the early seventies. I have no reason to doubt these individuals, as their grapevine is usually accurate, and this poses a serious problem for the Nation at large. Almost everything moves by truck across this country, and it won’t take very long for our merchants’ shelves and gasoline storage tanks to empty resulting in serious shortages in food and fuel. So, be prepared ... fill your pantries and autos prior to the eighth of September!!!!

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Wal-Mart Boycott

Unlike the contrived oil and gasoline shortages of the early seventies, the U.S. is not in the position of turning open the spigot and allowing the oil and refined products to flow. Because of the hurricane, the lack of new refineries, and the lack of an ingenious national energy policy, these shortages are real and will be exploited by the Teamsters Union. Every domestic refinery is producing gasoline and home heating oil at maximum capabilities, and combined with the shut down of the refineries in the Gulf due to the hurricane, along with the inability to pump crude oil from the Gulf region, there will be serious shortages for approximately two months. This is a serious National emergency!!!! There have already been long gasoline lines in the South this Labor Day weekend, as many with whom I have spoken from that region have stated to me that in some areas of Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, North and South Carolina, Louisiana, and Florida, gasoline is already being rationed. These individuals are being allowed only 10 gallons each ... just enough to get by during this shortage. Every Governor of the above mentioned states have asked their citizens to stay at home over the holiday, thus trying to avoid a disaster in the making. Wal-Mart has announced that their entire fleet of trucks will stop moving good and services effective Tuesday, September 6th ... they know that something is in the making, and don’t want to jeopardize either their trucks or personnel during the National Strike. Every independent trucker with whom I have spoken has stated to me that they will not roll during this time frame, as the Teamsters mean business!!!! Terry ... Teamster Union Member

WAL-MART BOYCOTT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

F

or those of you that have not heard, Planned Parenthood is planning a boycott of Wal-Mart because Wal-Mart will not sell Preven. Preven is being called the “day after” contraceptive. It is not a contraceptive. The

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egg will have already been fertilized. This is an abortion device and Wal-Mart refuses to sell it. Planned Parenthood is asking all women and the men who agree with a woman’s right to choose (to kill) to boycott Wal-Mart and to write them letting them know why they are being boycotted. Wal-Mart officials gave an E-mail address for us to write to. Please let them know we appreciate their stand. We mustn’t let them down. They are standing up for what is right. The address is: [email protected]. Put re: Preven Please forward this to everyone and let’s let them know that the majority still supports Right to Life. Thanks. We really need to support businesses that take a moral stand on an issue. “It is a very great poverty that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.” —Mother Teresa

HOME DEPOT BOYCOTT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

H

OME DEPOT REFUSES TO SELL TO THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT OR SUB-CONTRACTORS DOING BUSINESS WITH THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT! When I went to the Depot I spoke with the store manager on duty at the time. I asked if it was true that they would not sell to the U.S. government. He said that their corporate office sent a letter that day stating that they could not sell to any Federal Government agency or contractors that were doing business with the U.S. Gov. I asked if I could see the letter that Home Depot corporate sent. He showed it to me but would not give me a copy. I asked him to call HD’s corporate office for permission. He declined. I told him I would not leave without a copy of the letter. He called. After he talked he gave me the phone I spoke to their public affairs office.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | How Many Aggie Foremen Does It Take

She confirmed that they would not sell to us, would not give a reason, but said it had nothing to do with Iraq. I asked if she realized what an impact this decision would have on their business and she stated that any loss of business they would suffer as a result of this policy was worth it. I then asked her to tell the manager to give me a copy of the letter and she did. He made a copy for me and asked for my name. As I left I told him he should be ashamed to work at that store and that they should quit selling the U.S. flag or any item that had the flag on it.

HOW MANY AGGIE FOREMEN DOES IT TAKE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

T

his is classic. We may be going through some rough times now, Aggies, but we stick together through thick and thin. This was sent to me by an Aggie in the office. * * * Please excuse the language, I used direct quotes where available... My brother, Geoff is a construction site foreman for Del-Ware Companies. They build large public buildings (schools, city halls, utilities, etc.). Geoff’s job is to travel to all the sites they have under construction and to monitor the progress of their various projects. He showed up Friday morning at a school under construction down near Victoria. He was wearing his A&M hat. When he got out of the truck, he began to inspect the steel framework that was going up. One of the foreman came down from the structure, walked over to him and said, “So, how many Aggies does it take to put together a stack of logs anyway ... Apparently more than twelve!!” He and the guys gathered around thought this was hilarious until Geoff told him to “GET THE FUCK OFF MY JOB SITE!” He then fired the entire steel contracting company, told them to “pick up your shit and get it off my company’s site, now! This guy just flushed your $250,000 contract.” He called HIS

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boss (a t.u. grad) to make sure he had the authority to throw all these guys out. After telling him what was said his boss’s response was classic: “Geoff, I may not know how many Aggies it takes to build a Bonfire, but I do know it only takes one Aggie Foreman to fire a bunch of assholes.”

PRICELESS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

Y

ou guys will die laughing! PRICELESS... This actually IS true! It was in the local newspaper and even Jay Leno mentioned it. This is a true story about a recent wedding that took place at Clemson University: It was a huge wedding with about 300 guests. After the wedding, at the reception, the groom got up on stage at the microphone to talk to the crowd. He said that he wanted to thank everyone for coming, many from long distances, to support them at their wedding. He especially wanted to thank the bride’s and groom’s families for coming and to thank his new father-in-law for providing such a fabulous reception. To thank everyone for coming and bringing gifts and everything, he said he wanted to give everyone a special gift from just him. So taped to the bottom of everyone’s chair was a manila envelope, including the wedding party. He said that this was his gift to everyone, and told everyone to open the envelopes. Inside each manila envelope was an 8x10 picture of his best man having sex with the bride. He had gotten suspicious of the two of them and hired a private detective to trail them weeks prior to the wedding. After he stood there and watched the people’s reactions for a couple of minutes, he turned to the best man and said, “F— you!” He turned to his bride and said, “F— you!” and then he turned to the dumbfounded crowd and said, “I’m out of here.”

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Jane Fonda Nomination

He had the marriage annulled first thing that Monday morning. While most of us would have broken off the engagement immediately after finding out about the affair, this guy goes through with it anyway, as if nothing was wrong. His revenge: Making the bride’s parents pay over $32,000 for 300 guests for a wedding and reception. Letting everyone know exactly what did happen. And best of all, trashing the bride’s and best man’s reputations in front of all of their friends and their entire families. This guy has balls the size of church bells. Do you think we might see one of those MasterCard “Priceless” commercials out of this? Elegant wedding for 300 family and guests, $32,000. Photographers for the wedding $3,000. Accommodations in Maui for 2 weeks $8,500. The look on everyone’s faces after seeing a photo of the Bride and Best Man having sex... Priceless.

JANE FONDA NOMINATION Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

usually do not forward emails that I receive but I thought this one was important enough to share with all of you. Please take the time to read and remember and if you have a bit of extra time please send it to your friends so they too can remember. Jane Fonda is being honored as one of the “100 Women of the Century.” Unfortunately many have forgotten and still countless others have never known how Ms. Fonda betrayed not only the idea of our country but specific men who served and sacrificed during Vietnam. Part of my conviction comes from personal exposure to those who suffered her attentions.

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The first part of this is from an F-4E pilot. The pilot’s name is Jerry Driscoll, a River Rat. In 1978, the former Commandant of the USAF Survival School was a POW in Ho Lo Prison-the “Hanoi Hilton.” Dragged from a stinking cesspit of a cell, cleaned, fed, and dressed in clean PJs, he was ordered to describe for a visiting American “Peace Activist” the “lenient and humane treatment” he’d received. He spat at Ms. Fonda, was clubbed, and dragged away. During the subsequent beating, he fell forward upon the camp commandant’s feet, which sent that officer berserk. In ’78, the AF Col. still suffered from double vision (which permanently ended his flying days) from the Vietnamese Col.’s frenzied application of a wooden baton. From 1983–1985, Col. Larry Carrigan was in the 47FW/DO (F-4Es). He spent 6 years in the “Hilton”—the first three of which he was “missing in action.” His wife lived on faith that he was still alive. His group, too, got the cleaned/fed/clothed routine in preparation for a peace delegation visit. They, however, had time and devised a plan to get word to the world that they still survived. Each man secreted a tiny piece of paper, with his SSN on it, in the palm of his hand. When paraded before Ms. Fonda and a cameraman, she walked the line, shaking each man’s hand and asking little encouraging snippets like: “Aren’t you sorry you bombed babies?” and “Are you grateful for the humane treatment from your benevolent captors?” Believing this HAD to be an act, they each palmed her their sliver of paper. She took them all without missing a beat. At the end of the line and once the camera stopped rolling, to the shocked disbelief of the POWs, she turned to the officer in charge ... and handed him the little pile of papers. Three men died from the subsequent beatings. Col. Carrigan was almost number four but he survived, which is the only reason we know about her actions that day. I was a civilian economic development advisor in Vietnam, and was captured by the North Vietnamese communists in South Vietnam in 1968, and held for over 5 years. I spent 27 months in solitary confinement, one year in a cage in Cambodia, and one year in a “black box” in Hanoi. My North Vietnamese captors deliberately poisoned and murdered a female missionary, a nurse in a leprosarium in Ban me Thuot, South Vietnam, whom I buried in the jungle near the Cambodian border. At one time, I was weighing approximately 90 lbs. (My normal weight is 170 lbs.). We were Jane Fonda’s “war criminals.” When Jane Fonda was in Hanoi, I was asked by the camp communist political officer if I would be willing to meet with Jane Fonda. I said yes, for I would like to tell her about the real treatment we POWs were receiving, which was far different from the treatment purported by the North Vietnamese, and parroted by Jane Fonda, as “humane and lenient.” Because of this, I spent three days on a

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Bush Refuses to Sell Home to Blacks

rocky floor on my knees with outstretched arms with a large amount of steel placed on my hands, and beaten with a bamboo cane till my arms dipped. I had the opportunity to meet with Jane Fonda for a couple of hours after I was released. I asked her if she would be willing to debate me on TV. She did not answer me. This does not exemplify someone who should be honored as part of “100 Years of Great Women.” Lest we forget... “100 years of great women” should never include a traitor whose hands are covered with the blood of so many patriots. There are few things I have strong visceral reactions to, but Hanoi Jane’s participation in blatant treason, is one of them. Please take the time to forward to as many people as you possibly can. It will eventually end up on her computer and she needs to know that we will never forget. If having Jane Fonda named one of the woman of the century bothers you as much as it does me, then mail this to everyone on your list.

Variant B Date: 2001

H

ONORING A TRAITOR... :( JUST SO YOU KNOW, EVEN TO THIS DAY I WILL NOT WATCH A MOVIE OR LISTEN TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY BECAUSE I REMEMBER OH SO VERY WELL THAT TIME IN MY YOUNG LIFE. AS AN ADULT I UNDERSTAND MORE OF WHAT SHE DID AND SAID. I COULD AND NEVER WILL FORGIVE HER FOR HER RECKLESS BELIEF IN THE NORTH VIETNAM. KEEP THIS MOVING ACROSS AMERICA. HONORING A TRAITOR. This is for all the kids born in the ’70s that do not remember this, and didn’t have to bear the burden that our fathers, mothers, and older brothers and sisters had to bear.

BUSH REFUSES TO SELL HOME TO BLACKS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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B

rothers and Sisters, please read and pass along. We must remember this at the polls, and choose wisely. Whites-only covenant shows Bush’s true colors. Texas governor and Republican presidential candidate, George W. Bush recently sent waves through the Black community following a discovery that a Dallas house he sold in 1995 carries a racial covenant, which restricts the sale of the house to white people only. Bush and his wife, Laura, bought the house in 1988. How is this legal? It isn’t. The Fair Housing Act prevents the enforcement of racial covenants. However, many houses still carry them as a remnant of the Jim Crow era when it was common practice to exclude Blacks from buying houses and living in white neighborhoods. The Bush campaign responded with an online statement saying that the racial covenant was void and that Bush was unaware of it when he sold the house. Yeah right! It’s extremely irresponsible for a public figure to accidentally overlook such a stipulation. Did Bush really know but just didn’t care to do anything about it? The real estate agent who prepared the papers for the sale said that she notified Bush of the racial covenant but that he signed the papers anyway. Perhaps equally shocking as the racial covenant is the fact that the media has swept this story under the rug. Have you heard about it in any of the newspapers you read or on any of the news programs you watch?

ATTACKER IN THE BACKSEAT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Body Part Initiation

A

LL LADIES BEWARE, THIS IS AWFUL! MEN TELL YOUR WIFE, SISTER, AUNT, MOTHER, ETC. BE CAREFUL AND LOCK YOUR CARS NO MATTER WHAT! WATCH YOUR SURROUNDINGS. This was forwarded to me, it happened in Austin! This actually happened to my friend’s niece last week right here near downtown. It was after dark and she stopped to get gas at a QuikTrip. She filled her tank and walked into the store to pay for her gas. The cashier told her “don’t pay for your gas yet ... walk around the store a while and act as if you’re picking up some other things to buy. A man just got into the back of your car. I’ve called the police and they’re on their way.” When the police arrived, they found the man in the back seat of the girl’s car and asked him what he was doing. He replied, he was joining a gang and the initiation to join is to kidnap a woman and bring her back to the gang to be raped. According to the police that night, there is a new gang forming here originating from Chicago. Part of the scary part of this is because the guy didn’t have a weapon on him the police could only charge him with trespassing ... he’s back on the streets and free to try again. Please be aware of what’s going on around you, ladies. This could happen to anyone. Please forward this on to anyone you care about!

BODY PART INITIATION Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

am passing this along because I know of an incident similar to this. My girlfriend was getting some gas and when she attempted to return to her car the gas station attendant starting yelling at her and telling her she did not pay yet.

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When she went back in to argue about having already paid the attendant told her he just wanted to get her back in because he saw someone crawl in the back-seat of her car, and that he had already called the police. So it’s worth taking to heart. This is a true story. It has been “ritual” of gang members to take one body part from women as an initiation into gangs. The rule is that is has to be in a well-lit area and at a gas station, so be careful. They tend to lay under the car, and slash females’ ankles when she goes to get in her car, causing her to fall and then they cut off a body part and roll and run. They are known to hide behind the gas pumps too, so be careful. It might sound bizarre and gross, but the bigger the body part the higher the initiation they receive. This was communicated by a person who works in law enforcement in the South. She has investigated and been called to a number of these scenes. She has also confirmed the above statement as true and not an Internet “hoax.” Please pass these on to as many people you know ... mothers, sisters, grandparents, daughters, nieces, and friends. It seems the world has become a crazy place to live. Let’s be careful out there and make stuff like this known so we are better protected.

Variant B

S

ubject: Attn: ALL LADIES!!!! Tell all of the women in your life about this. Be Careful. I am passing along because I know of an incident similar to this. My girlfriend was getting some gas and when she attempted to return to her car the gas station attendant starting yelling at her and telling her she did not pay yet. When she went back in to argue about having already paid the attendant told her he just wanted to get her back in because he saw someone crawl in the back-seat of her car, and that he had already called the police. So it’s worth taking to heart. This is a true story. It has been “ritual” of gang members to take one body part from women as an initiation into gangs. The rule is that is has to be in a well-lit area and at a gas station, so be careful. They tend to lay under the car, and slash the female’s ankles when she goes to get in her car, causing her to fall and then they cut off a body part and roll and run. They are known to hide behind the gas pumps too, so be careful. It might sound bizarre and gross but the bigger the body parts the higher the initiation they receive. This info. was communicated by a female law

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Body Part Initiation

enforcement person that works in the South. She has investigated and been called to several of these scenes. She has also confirmed the following statement below as true and not an Internet “hoax.” Please pass these on to as many people you know, mothers, sisters, grandparents, daughters, nieces, and friends. The world it seems has become a crazy place to live in but let be careful out there and make stuff like this known so we are better protected. Here is an example of a true case—a gas station attendant yelled at a lady to come back and pay for her gas, if she did not he would call the cops if she tried to drive away (this was right after she had been in and paid for the gas.) She returned into the station upset and angry at the attendant, only to realize that he had called the cops after spotting a man roll under her car. She was about to be a victim of the above initiation. Bless Your Spirit. Rev. ———

Variant C Date: 2000

S

ubject: FW: YOUR SAFETY—WARNING FROM U.S.A. MILITARY POLICE SCHOOL

IMPORTANT MESSAGE FOR SAFETY FROM THE DIRECTOR OF TRAINING AT THE U.S. ARMY MILITARY POLICE SCHOOL—PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ AND PASS ALONG! A friend stopped at a pay-at-the-pump gas station to get gas. Once she filled her gas tank after paying at the pump and started to leave the attendant inside came over the speaker. He told her that something happened with her card and that she needed to come inside to pay. The lady was confused because the transaction showed complete and approved. She told him that and was getting ready to leave but the attendant once again urged her to come in to pay or else. She proceeded to go inside and started arguing with the attendant about his threat. He told her to calm down and listen carefully: He told her that while she was pumping gas, a guy slipped into the back seat of her car on the other side and he had called the police.

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She immediately became scared and looked out there in time to see her car door open and the guy slip out. The report is that the new gang initiation thing is to bring back a woman’s body part. One way they are doing this is crawling under girls/women’s cars while they’re pumping gas or at grocery stores in the nighttime. Then, they are cutting the lady’s ankles to disable them in order to kidnap them, kill and dismember them. The other way is slipping into unattended cars and kidnapping the women to kill and dismember them. Please pass this on to other women, young and old alike. BE extra careful going to and from your car at night. If at all possible, don’t go alone! This is for real!! THE MESSAGE: 1. ALWAYS lock your car doors, even if you’re gone for just second. 2. Check underneath your car when approaching it for reentry, and check in the back before getting in. 3. Always be aware of your surroundings and other individuals in your general vicinity, particularly at night! Send this to your friends so as many females as possible can be made aware of this new threat, & so your friend will not be the next victim. Thanks, Ms. –––, Secretary Directorate of Training U.S. Army Military Police School

MALL ABDUCTION PLOYS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Mall Abduction Ploys

S

ubject: FW: Abduction Scams I don’t usually pass this kind of thing along but this is so logical and easy to fall for—especially during a busy holiday season. Make sure you read the entire thing. Towards the end is really important!!!!! The notice below was posted on JCPenney’s E-mail this morning to all female associates. I wanted to pass the information on to you. Recently on Inside Edition there was an article about several new scams to abduct women. In one, a man comes up to a woman in a mall or shopping center and asks if she likes pizza. When she says she does, he offers her $10,000 to shoot a commercial for pizza, but they need to go outside where the lighting is better. When the woman goes out of the mall she is abducted and assaulted. Another ploy is a very nicely dressed man asks a woman if she would be in a public service announcement to discourage drug use. The man explains that they don’t want professional actors or celebrities; they want the average mother to do this. Once she leaves the mall she is a victim. The third ploy, the most successful, a frantic man comes running in to the mall and asks a woman to please help him, his baby is not breathing. She runs out of the mall following him and also becomes a victim. These have been happening in well-lit parking areas, in daylight as well as nighttime, all over the country. The abductor usually uses a van to abduct the woman. Inside Edition set up a test in a mall and 10 out of 15 women went out of the mall on the pizza and the PSA scam. And all of them went out of the mall on the baby scam. Please pass this along to your friends and family as now that it has been shown on nationwide TV there are bound to be copycats of this. The third one, I think, is the scariest. You might resist pizza or becoming a commercial celebrity ... but who would be able to resist a frantic father asking for help for his child? I’m sure that one would get me. A woman was shopping at the Tuttle Mall in Columbus. She came out to her car and saw she had a flat. She got her jack and spare out of the trunk. A man in a business suit came up and started to help her. When the tire had been replaced, he asked for a ride to his car on the opposite side of the mall. Feeling uncomfortable about doing this, she stalled for a while, but he kept pressing her. She finally asked why he was on this side of the mall if his car was on the other. He claimed he had been talking to friends. Still uncomfortable, she told him that she had just remembered something she had forgotten to pick up at the mall and she left him and went back inside the mall. She reported the incident to the mall security and they went out to her car. The man was nowhere in sight.

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Opening her trunk, she discovered a briefcase the man had set inside her trunk while helping her with the tire. Inside were rope and a butcher knife. And, when she took the tire to be fixed, the mechanic informed her that there was nothing wrong with her tire, that it was flat because the air had been let out of it. Send this to any woman you know that may need to be reminded that the world we live in has a lot of crazies in it ... better safe than sorry. PLEASE BE SAFE AND NOT SORRY! JUST A WARNING TO ALWAYS BE ALERT AND USE YOUR HEAD!!! Pass this along to every woman you have access to. Never let your guard down. SOMETIMES THAT FEELING IN YOUR GUT IS THE VOICE OF GOD. TRUST YOURINSTINCTS!! Sincerely, ———, PHR JCPenney Direct Marketing Services Human Resources Sincerely, ———, Senior Project Manager JCPenney Direct Marketing Services

POISON PERFUME Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

feel that it is important to inform you of very important information that I was told. Seven women have died after smelling a free perfume sample that was mailed to them. The product was poisonous.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Perfume Mugger

If you receive free samples in the mail such as lotions, perfumes, diapers, etc., throw it away. The government is afraid that this might be another terrorist act. They will not announce it on the news because they do not want to alarm us of any danger.


S

even women have died after inhaling a free perfume sample that was mailed to them. The product was poisonous. If you receive free samples in the mail such as lotions, perfumes, diapers etc. throw them away. The government is afraid that this might be another terrorist act. They will not announce it on the news because they do not want to create panic or give the terrorists new ideas. Send this to all your friends and family members. Please pass on to all women you know.

PERFUME MUGGER Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

DON’T THINK ANY OF US WOULD BE SNIFFING AROUND OUTSIDE THE MALL, BUT JUST IN CASE. What will people think of next to try and get over on honest folks!?!?! I just heard on the radio about a lady that was asked to sniff a bottle of perfume that another woman was selling for $8 (in a mall parking lot). She told the story that it was her last bottle of perfume that regularly sells for $49 but she was

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getting rid of it for only $8, sound legitimate? That’s what the victim thought, but when she awoke she found out that her car had been moved to another parking area and she was missing all of the money that was in her wallet (total of $800). Pretty steep for a sniff of perfume! Anyway, the perfume wasn’t perfume at all, it was some kind of ether or strong substance to cause anyone that breathes the fumes to black out. So beware.... Christmas time is coming and we will be going to malls to shop and we will have cash on us. Ladies, please don’t be so trusting of others and be aware of your surroundings-ALWAYS! Obey your instincts! Please pass this on to your friends, sisters, mothers and all the women in your life that you care about ... we can never be too careful!!!


T

his was forwarded to me by a friend. TO ALL MY WOMEN FRIENDS—PASS IT ALONG TO YOUR WOMEN FRIENDS!!! I just wanted to pass along that I was approached yesterday afternoon around 3:30 p.m. in the Wal-Mart parking lot at Forest Drive, by 2 males, asking what kind of perfume I was wearing. I didn’t stop to answer them, and kept walking toward the store. At the time, I remembered this E-mail. The men continued to stand between parked cars, I guess to wait for someone else to hit on. I stopped a lady going toward them, pointed at them, and told her about how I was sent an E-mail at work about someone walking up to you at the malls or in parking lots, and asking you to SNIFF PERFUME that they are selling at a cheap price! THIS IS NOT PERFUME—IT IS ETHER! YOU WILL PASS OUT, AND THEY WILL TAKE YOUR WALLET AND ALL OF YOUR VALUABLES. This is not a prank email; this is true because I was stopped in the Governors Square parking lot today. A maroon van pulled up to me with two females in it. The female on the passenger side rolled down the window and asked me if I would be interested in “sniffing” some perfume they were selling. I remembered the E-mail that I had received, and said, “NO”. She asked me a second time, I kept on walking and said “NO” once again, and they pulled away.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Perfume Mugger

If it were not for this E-mail, I probably would have sniffed the “perfume.” PASS THIS ALONG TO ALL YOUR WOMEN FRIENDS, AND PLEASE BE ALERT, AND AWARE!!

Variant C Date: 2001

B

E CAREFUL. PLEASE READ AND PASS ON! At a gas station recently, I was approached by a young woman, who was obviously with another woman, and was asked what kind of perfume I wore. I told her I did not wear perfume. The attendant came out and told them to leave. Apparently, they had been bothering other people. At the time, I thought it was odd, and then forgot about the incident. I received this E-mail earlier this week, I too was approached about 10 days ago @ a Chevron station @ Rufe Snow & 820 by a man asking if I wanted to buy some perfume. I said no, not interested & never thought about it again until I received this E-mail!!!) Cindy, I was approached yesterday afternoon around 3:30 p.m. in the WalMart parking lot at Forest Drive, by two males, asking what kind of perfume I was wearing. Then they asked if I’d like to sample some fabulous scent they were willing to sell me at a very reasonable rate. I probably would have agreed had I not received an E-mail some weeks ago, warning of a “wanna smell this neat perfume?” scam. The men continued to stand between parked cars, I guess to wait for someone else to hit on. I stopped a lady going toward them, pointed at them, and told her about how I was sent an E-mail at work about someone walking up to you at the malls or in parking lots, and asking you to SNIFF PERFUME that they are selling at a cheap price. THIS IS NOT PERFUME—IT IS ETHER! When you sniff it, you’ll pass out and they’ll take your wallet, your valuables, and heaven knows what else. If it were not for this E-mail, I probably would have sniffed the “perfume.” But thanks to the generosity of an emailing friend, I was spared whatever might have happened to me. I wanted to do the same for you.

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PASS THIS ALONG TO ALL YOUR WOMEN FRIENDS. PLEASE BE CAREFUL this is very serious, especially for women, but men warn your loved females so this will not happen to them, God bless. BE CAREFUL PLEASE READ AND PASS ON!

RESTROOM KIDNAPPING Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

T

HIS WAS FORWARDED TO ME—I’M PASSING IT ON TO YOU. A Public notice: Hi All, Wanted to share something that happened today while shopping at Sam’s Club. A mother was leaning over looking for meat and turned around to find her 4 yr. old daughter was missing, I was standing there right beside her, well she was calling her daughter and no luck. I asked a man who worked at Sam’s to announce it over the loud speaker for Katie. Well, he did, and let me say he walked past me when I asked and went to a pole where there was a phone right there to make his announcement for all doors and gates to be locked, a code something ... so they locked all the doors at once. This took all of 3 min after I asked the guy to do this. They found the little girl 5 min later crunched in a bathroom stall, her head was half shaved, and she was dressed in her underwear with a bag of clothes, a razor, and wig sitting on the floor besides her. Whoever this person was, took the little girl, brought her into the bathroom, shaved half her head, undressed her in a matter of less than 10 min. Makes me shake to no end. Please keep an eye out for your kids when in shopping places. It only took a few minutes to do all of this, another 5 min and she would have been out the door ... I am still in shock some sick person could do this, let alone in a matter of minutes ... The little girl is fine ... thank God for fast workers who didn’t take any chances. Thanks for reading. Please keep praying for our children.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Handshake Assault

HANDSHAKE ASSAULT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

P

lease read this ... it is not a forward, it is coming directly from me. THIS IS SERIOUS! Today, my friend was walking through the sliding doors in the commons, when a guy reached out to shake her hand ... she didn’t think anything of it and shook his ... as she did, she felt something sharp, but didn’t think anything about it... as she walked away, she saw that blood was dripping down her hand ... she turned to look at the guy and he was gone ... she immediately rushed to Buetel ... they told her she was cut with a metal object (rust was in her skin) ... the scary thing is that she was the third person to report this happening to them ... they are testing everyone for HIV, but it is of course too soon to know. Please be very cautious in your surroundings, if you got this E-mail from me, it means I care about you and want to you to be safe! Send this to all of your Aggie friends because this man needs to be caught! * * * I just got off the phone with Stacy who works in the emergency area of Beutel and says that they have been flooded with phone calls questioning the validity of the story. She says it is just a fluke, there have been no such reports to Beutel in regard to anything of that nature. Just thought you all should know that, because I have gotten that E-mail more than once today. So respond to the people who it came from and let them know to spread the word that it is not true.

DATE RAPE DRUG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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P

lease send this off to all the girls you know!! Please be very aware of this. It’s just awful. Please forward on to any female friends or your girlfriends etc. Ladies, be more alert and cautious when getting a drink offer from a guy. Good guys out there, please forward this message to your lady friends. And boyfriends, take heed. There is a new drug that has been out for less than a year. Progesterex, that is essentially a small sterilization pill. The drug is now being used by rapists at parties to rape AND sterilize their victims. Progesterex is available to vets to sterilize large animals. Rumor has it that the Progesterex is being used together with Rohypnol, the date rape drug. As with Rohypnol, all they have to do is drop it into the girl’s drink. The girl can’t remember a thing the next morning, of all that had taken place the night before. Progesterex, which dissolves in drinks just as easily, is such that the victim doesn’t conceive from the rape and the rapist needn’t worry about having a paternity test identifying him months later. The drug’s effects AREN’T TEMPORARY. Progesterex was designed to sterilize horses. Any female that takes it WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO CONCEIVE. The crooks can get this drug from anyone who is in the vet school of any university. It’s that easy, and Progesterex is about to breakout big on campuses everywhere. Believe it or not, there is even a site on the Internet telling people how to use it. Please forward this to everyone you know, especially the gals.

THE CHLOROFORMED ROOMMATE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

R

ecently I had a conversation with my resident advisor who told me about a guy a friend of his knew here at aTm [Texas A&M]. Apparently this guy had gotten a potluck roommate who was nice but more or less kept to himself. The guy would awake morning after morning to find his rectum sore and red. This problem persisted so he saw a doctor about it. Well the doctor said he had a torn sphincter, which is typical of anal intercourse. The man remarked that he was not gay, and therefore this could not be the cause.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Poison Payphone

He returned home and went to bed puzzled, thinking about what the doctor told him the entire time. As the hours rolled by he was still awake, though laying as asleep, when he noticed his roommate get up and fool with something in his desk drawer. His roommate then casually approached him and attempted to cover his nose and mouth with something. Apparently his roommate had been putting chloroform on a handkerchief and incapacitating him, and then having anal intercourse with him. This story was told to me not as a joke, but as true ... really.

HIV NEEDLES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

A

t the police station, Dan has roll call every morning before his shift. The Sergeant addressed them of any things to be aware of. Anyway ... some sick people are going into the movie theaters and leaving HIV tainted needles on the toilet seats, to poke the people. Also this is so for change returns on the coke machines too. The needles have come back positive for the virus. This is probably not affecting your area but just watch the media put it on the news and then here come all the “copy cats.” Well I just wanted to give you something else to worry about, when you go to a public restroom.

POISON PAYPHONE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999

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K

inda makes you think about what you touch. We got a flyer about this at work ... It also stated that this has happened in a theatre seat where a hypodermic needle was stuck in the cushion ... You might want to be aware of that as well.... Please ... Read this and Pass it along and get the word out ... Thanks all. ——Original Message Follows—— Hello, this is to warn everyone of a new thing happening in communities as a gang initiation and such. If you care about anyone, please forward this to them immediately so they can learn of the possible harm. Even if you don’t read this, at least forward it to people. Hello, my name is Tina Strongman and I work at a police station, as a phone operator for 911. Lately, we’ve received many phone calls pertaining to a new sort of problem that has arisen in the inner cities, and is now working it’s way to smaller towns. It seems that a new form of gang initiation is to go find as many pay phones as possible and put a mixture of LSD and Strychnine onto the buttons. This mixture is deadly to the human touch, and apparently, this has killed some people on the East Coast. Strychnine is a chemical used in rat poison and is easily separated from the rest of the chemicals. When mixed with LSD, it creates a substance that is easily absorbed into the human flesh, and highly fatal. Please be careful if you are using a pay phone anywhere. You may want to wipe it off, or just not use one at all. Please be very careful. Let your friends and family know about this potential hazard. Thank you. Sgt. ——— —— Air Force Pentagon Washington DC

CAR JACKING SCHEME Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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Appendix: Cyberspace | World Trade Center Survivor’s Son Joins the Terrorists


B

e aware of new car-jacking scheme. Imagine: You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car and get inside. Then you lock all your doors, start the engine and shift into REVERSE, and you look into the rearview mirror to back out of your parking space and you notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of the rear window. So, you shift into PARK, unlock your doors and jump out of your car to remove that paper (or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view.... When you reach the back of your car, that is when the carjackers appear out of nowhere, jump into your car and take off!! Your engine was running, (ladies would have their purse in the car) and they practically mow you down as they speed off in your car. BE AWARE OF THIS NEW SCHEME THAT IS NOW BEING USED. Just drive away and remove the paper that is stuck to your window later, and be thankful that you read this E-mail. I hope you will forward this to friends and family ... especially to women! A purse contains all identification, and you certainly do NOT want someone getting your home address. They already HAVE your keys!

WORLD TRADE CENTER SURVIVOR’S SON JOINS THE TERRORISTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

D

idn’t see this in the American news, but at this point I can believe anything!!! Mohammed Junaid’s mother was led to safety from the blazing World Trade Center by New York’s brave firefighters and policemen. But 26year-old Junaid’s thank you has shocked New York.

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In return for saving his mum’s life, the Islamic-American has turned traitor and bought a one-way ticket to Pakistan to sign up for the Taliban and kill Americans. Junaid left on what could be a suicide mission one week after his mother— an office worker on the ninth floor of the north tower—was among the survivors. About 4,500 others were not so lucky, and lost their lives in the terror strikes on September 11. “My mother was in the north tower of the World Trade Centre but I still feel absolutely no remorse about what happened on September 11,” Junaid said. “I saw the towers collapse but felt nothing for the Americans inside. I may hold an American passport, but I am not an American—I am a Muslim.” Junaid offered his own personal jihad against his own country when in Islamabad, Pakistan, as he waited to cross the border into Afghanistan to join the Taliban. “I did not feel any remorse for the Americans who died,” Junaid told Britain’s ITN television network. “I’m willing to kill the Americans. I will kill every American that I see in Afghanistan. And I’ll kill every American soldier that I see in Pakistan.” Junaid’s parents migrated from Pakistan.

KATRINA WORKER REPORT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

got this from a friend in Houston who got it as an E-mail. If this is all true, it kinda makes you think.

I thought I might inform the few friends I have on my recent traumatic experience. I am going to tell it straight, blunt, raw, and I don’t give a damn. Long read, I know but please do read! I went to volunteer on Saturday at the George R. Brown convention for two reasons. A: I wanted to help people to get a warm fuzzy.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Katrina Worker Report

B: Curiosity. I’ve been watching the news lately and have seen scenes that have made me want to vomit. And no it wasn’t dead bodies, the city under water, or the sludge everywhere. It was PEOPLE’S BEHAVIOR. The people on TV (99% being black) were DEMANDING help. They were not asking nicely but demanding as if society owed these people something. Well the honest truth is WE DON’T. Help should be asked for in a kind manner and then appreciated. This is not what the press (FOX in particular) was showing, what I was seeing was a group of people who are yelling, demanding, looting, killing, raping, and SHOOTING back at the demanded help! So I’m thinking this can’t possibly be true can it? So I decide to submit to the DEMAND for help out of SHOCK. I couldn’t believe this to be true of the majority of the people who are the weakest of society. So I went to volunteer and help folks out and see the truth. So I will tell the following story and you decide: I arrived at the astrodome only to find out that there are too many volunteers and that volunteers were needed at the George R. Brown Convention Center. As I was walking up to the Convention Center I noticed a line of cars that wrapped around blocks filled with donations. These were ordinary Houstonians coming with truckloads and trunks full of water, diapers, clothes, blankets, food, all types of good stuff. And lots of it was NEW. I felt that warm fuzzy while helping unload these vehicles of these wonderful human beings. I then went inside the building and noticed approximately 100,000 sq. ft. of clothes, shoes, jackets, toys and all types of goodies all organized and ready for the people in need. I signed up, received a name badge and was on my merry way excited to be useful. I toured the place to get familiar with my surrounding; the entire place is probably around 2 million sq. ft. I noticed rows as far as the eye can see of mattresses, not cots, BLOW UP MATTRESSES! All of which had nice pillows and plenty of blankets. 2 to 3 bottles of water lay on every bed. These full size to queen size beds by the way were comfortable, I laid on one to see for myself. I went to look at the medical area. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing! A makeshift hospital created in 24 hours! It was unbelievable, they even had a pharmacy. I also noticed that they created showers, which would also have hot water. I went upstairs to the third floor to find a HUGE cafeteria created in under 24 hours! Rows of tables, chairs and food everywhere—enough to feed an army! I’m not talking about crap food either. They had Jason’s Deli food, apples, oranges, Coke, Diet Coke, lemonade, orange juice, cookies, all types of chips and sandwiches. All the beverages by the way was put on ice and chilled! In a matter of about 24 hours or less an entire mini-city was erected by volunteers for the poor evacuees. This was not your rundown crap shelter, it was BUM HEAVEN.

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So that was the layout: great food, comfy beds, clean showers, free medical help, by the way there was a library, and a theatre room I forgot to mention. Great stuff right? Well here is what happened on my journey— I started by handing out COLD water bottles to evacuees as they got off the bus. Many would take them and only 20% or less said thank you. Lots of them would shake their heads and ask for sodas! So this went on for about 20–30 minutes until I was sick of being an unappreciated servant. I figured certainly these folks would appreciate some food! So I went upstairs to serve these beloved evacuees some GOOD food that I wish I could have at the moment! The following statements are graphic, truthful, and discuss UNRATIONAL behavior. Evacuees come slowly to receive this mountain of food that is worth serving to a king! I tell them that we have 2 types of great deli sandwiches to choose from—ham and turkey. Many look at the food in disgust and DEMAND burgers, pizza, and even McDonalds! Jason’s deli is better than McDonalds! Only 1 out of ten people who took something would say “thank you,” the rest took items as if it was their God-given right to be served without a shred of appreciation! They would ask for beer and liquor. They complained that we didn’t have good enough food. They refused food and laughed at us. They treated us volunteers as if we where SLAVES. No not all of them of course ... but 70% did! 20% where appreciative, 10% took the food without any comment and the other 70% had some disgusting comment to say. Some had the nerve to laugh at us. And when I snapped back at them for being mean, they would curse at me! Needless to say I was in utter shock. They would eat their food and leave their mess on the table ... some would pick up their stuff, many would leave it for the volunteers to pick up. I left that real quick to go down and help set up some more beds. I saw many young ladies carrying mattresses and I helped for a while. Then I realized something ... there were hundreds of able-bodied young men who could help! I asked a group of young evacuees in their teens and early twenties to help. I got cursed at for asking them to help! One said “We just lost our ****ing homes and you want us to work!” The next said, “Ya Cracker, you got a home, we don’t.” I looked at them in disbelief. Here are women walking by carrying THEIR ****ING BEDS and they can’t lift a finger and help themselves! WHY THE **** SHOULD I HELP PEOPLE WHO DON’T WANT TO HELP THEMESELVES! I waved them off and turned away and was laughed at and more “white boy jokes” were made at me. I felt no need to waste my breath on a bunch of pitiful losers. I went to a nearby restroom where I noticed a man shaving.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | 809 Scam

I used the restroom, washed my hands and saw this man throw his razor towards the trash can ... he missed ... he walked out leaving his disgusting razor on the floor for some other “cracker” to pick up. Even the little kids were demanding. I saw only ONE white family and only TWO Hispanic families. The rest were blacks ... sorry 20% to 30% decent blacks ... and 70% LOSERS! I would call them ******S, but the actual definition of a ****** is one who is ignorant, these people were not ignorant ... they were ARROGANT. The majority of which are thugs and lifetime lazy-ass welfare recipients. We are inviting the lowest of the low to Houston. And like idiots we are serving the people who will soon steal our cars, rape, murder, and destroy our city while stealing from our pockets on a daily basis through the welfare checks they take. We will fund our own destruction. By “US” I don’t mean a specific race, I mean the people who work hard, work smart, have values and morals. Only people who want to help themselves should be helped, the others should be allowed to destroy themselves. I do not want to work hard, give the government close to half the money I earn so they can in turn give it to a bunch of losers. I don’t believe in being poor for life. My family immigrated here, we came here poor, and now thank God, and due to HARD WORK we are doing fine. If immigrants, who come here, don’t know the language can work and become successful ... WHY THE **** CAN’T THE MAJORITY OF THE HOMEGROWN DO IT! If we continue to reward these losers then we will soon destroy our great country. I just witnessed selfish, arrogant, unappreciative behavior by the very people who need help the most. Now these same people who cursed me, refused my cities generosity, who refuse to help themselves are DEMANDING handouts on their own terms! They prance around as if they are owed something, and when they do receive a handout, they say it’s not good enough! Well you know what ... these types of people can go to hell for all I care!

809 SCAM Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999

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Original Source: E-mail National Origin: European American

S

PECIAL ALERT—DO NOT EVER DIAL AREA CODE 809. Don’t respond to E-mails, phone calls, or pages that tell you to call an “809” phone number. This is a very important issue of Internet ScamBusters! because it alerts you to a scam that is spreading *extremely* quickly can easily cost you $100 or more, and is difficult to avoid unless you are aware of it. We’d like to thank ——— and ——— (USPS) for bringing this scam to our attention. This scam has also been identified by the National Fraud Information Center and is costing victims a lot of money. There are lots of different permutations of this scam, but here is how it works: Permutation #1: Internet-based phone scam via E-mail. You receive an email, typically with a subject line of “*ALERT*” or “Unpaid account.” The message, which is being spammed across the Net, says: I am writing to give you a final 24 hrs. to settle your outstanding account. If I have not received the settlement in full, I will commence legal proceedings without further delay. If you would like to discuss this matter to avoid court action, call Mike Murray at Global Communications. Permutation #2: Phone or pager scam. You receive a message on your answering machine or our pager that asks you to call a number beginning with area code 809. The reason you’re asked to call varies: it can be to receive information about a family member who has been ill, to tell you someone has been arrested, died, to let you know you have won a wonderful prize, etc. In each case, you’re told to call the 809 number right away. Since there are so many new area codes these days, people unknowingly return these calls. If you call from the U.S., you will apparently be charged $25 per minute! Sometimes the person who answers the phone will speak broken English and pretend not to understand you. Other times, you’ll just get a long recorded message. The point is, they will try to keep you on the phone as long as possible to increase the charges. Unfortunately, when you get your phone bill, you’ll often be charged more than $100. Here’s why it works: The 809 area code is located in the British Virgin Islands (the Bahamas). The 809 area code can be used as a “pay-per-call” number, similar to 900 numbers in the U.S. Since 809 is not in the U.S., it is not covered by U.S. regulations of 900 numbers, which require that you be notified and warned of charges and rates involved when you call a “pay-per-call” number.

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There is also no requirement that the company provide a time period during which you may terminate the call without being charged. Further, whereas many U.S. phones have 900 number blocking to avoid these kinds of charges, 900 number blocking will not prevent calls to the 809 area code. We recommend that no matter how you get the message, if you are asked to call a number with an 809 area code that you don’t recognize, further investigate and/or disregard the message. Be *very* wary of E-mail or calls asking you to call an 809 area code number. It’s important to prevent becoming a victim of this scam, since trying to fight the charges afterwards can become a real nightmare. That’s because you did actually make the call. If you complain, both our local phone company and your long distance carrier will not want to get involved and will most likely tell you that they are simply providing the billing for the foreign company. You’ll end up dealing with a foreign company that argues they have done nothing wrong. Please forward this entire issue of Internet ScamBusters! to your friends, family and colleagues to help them become aware of this scam so they don’t get ripped off.

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

S

ubject: area code 809 Might take heed of the following.... DON’T EVER DIAL AREA CODE 809. This one is being distributed all over the U.S. This is pretty scary—especially given the way they try to get you to call. Be sure you read this & pass it on to all your friends & family so they don’t get scammed! MAJOR SCAM: Don’t respond to E-mails, phone calls, or web pages that tell you to call an “809” phone number. This is a very important issue of ScamBusters because it alerts you to a scam that is spreading extremely quickly, can easily cost you $24,100 or more, and is difficult to avoid unless you are aware of it. We’d like

213


to thank ——— and ——— for bringing this scam to our attention. This scam has also been identified by the National Fraud Information Center and is costing victims a lot of money. There are lots of different permutations of this scam, but HERE’S HOW IT WORKS: You will receive a message on your answering machine or your pager, that asks you to call a number beginning with area code 809. The reason you’re asked to call varies. It can be to receive information about a family member who has been ill, to tell you someone has been arrested, died, to let you know you have won a wonderful prize, etc. In each case, you are told to call the 809 number right away. Since there are so many new area codes these days, people unknowingly return these calls. If you call from the U.S., you will apparently be charged $2,425 per minute. Or, you’ll get a long recorded message. The point is, they will try to keep you on the phone as long as possible to increase the charges. Unfortunately, when you get your phone bill, you’ll often be charged more than $24,100. WHY IT WORKS: The 809 area code is located in the British Virgin Islands (the Bahamas). The 809 area code can be used as a “pay-per-call” number, similar to 900 numbers in the U.S. Since 809 is not in the U.S., it is not covered by U.S. regulations of 900 numbers, which require that you be notified and warned of charges and rates involved when you call a “pay-per-call” number. There is also no requirement that the company provide a time period during which you may terminate the call without being charged. Further, whereas many U.S. phones have 900 number blocking to avoid these kinds of charges, 900 number blocking will not prevent calls to the 809 area code. We recommend that no matter how you get the message, if you are asked to call a number with an 809 area code that you don’t recognize, investigate further and/or disregard the message. Be wary of Emails or calls asking you to call an 809 area code number. It’s important to prevent becoming a victim of this scam, since trying to fight the charges afterwards can become a real nightmare. That’s because you did actually make the call. If you complain, both our local phone company and your long distance carrier will not want to get involved and will most likely tell you that they are simply providing the billing for the foreign company. You’ll end up dealing with a foreign company that argues they have done nothing wrong. Please forward this entire message to your friends, family, and colleagues to help them become aware of this scam so they don’t get ripped off.

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Variant C Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

think that I have received this one before but 6 of my friends sent this to me. I thought that you might be interested.

DON’T EVER DIAL AREA CODE 809. This one is being distributed all over the U.S. This is pretty scary—especially given the way they try to get you to call. Be sure you read this & pass it on to all your friends & family so they don’t get scammed! MAJOR SCAM: Don’t respond to E-mails, phone calls, or web pages that tell you to call an “809” phone number. This is a very important issue of ScamBusters because it alerts you to a scam that is spreading *extremely* quickly—can easily cost you $24,100 or more, and is difficult to avoid unless you are aware of it. We’d like to thank ——— and ——— for bringing this scam to our attention. This scam has also been identified by the National Fraud Information Center and is costing victims a lot of money. There are lots of different permutations of this scam, but HERE’S HOW IT WORKS: You will receive a message on your answering machine or your pager, which asks you to call a number beginning with area code 809. The reason you’re asked to call varies. It can be to receive information about a family member who has been ill, to tell you someone has been arrested, died, to let you know you have won a wonderful prize, etc. In each case, you are told to call the 809 number right away. Since there are so many new area codes these days, people unknowingly return these calls. If you call from the U.S., you will apparently be charged $2,425 per minute. Or, you’ll get a long recorded message. The point is, they will try to keep you on the phone as long as possible to increase the charges. Unfortunately, when you get your phone bill, you’ll often be charged more than $24,100. WHY IT WORKS:

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The 809 area code is located in the British Virgin Islands (the Bahamas). The 809 area code can be used as a “pay-per-call” number, similar to 900 numbers in the U.S. Since 809 is not in the U.S., it is not covered by U.S. regulations of 900 numbers, which require that you be notified and warned of charges and rates involved when you call a “pay-per-call” number. There is also no requirement that the company provide a time period during which you may terminate the call without being charged. Further, whereas many U.S. phones have 900 number blocking to avoid these kinds of charges, 900 number blocking will not prevent calls to the 809 area code. We recommend that no matter how you get the message, if you are asked to call a number with an 809 area code that you don’t recognize and/or investigate further and just disregard the message. Be wary of E-mails or calls asking you to call an 809 area code number. It’s important to prevent becoming a victim of this scam, since trying to fight the charges afterwards can become a real nightmare. That’s because you did actually make the call. If you complain, both your local phone company and your long distance carrier will not want to get involved and will most likely tell you that they are simply providing the billing for the foreign company. You’ll end up dealing with a foreign company that argues they have done nothing wrong. Please forward this entire message to your friends, family, and colleagues to help them become aware of this scam so they don’t get ripped off.

90# SCAM Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

S

uspicious phone call: Got a call last night from an individual identifying himself as an AT&T service technician who was conducting a test on our telephone lines. He

216

Appendix: Cyberspace | 90# Scam

stated that to complete the test I should touch nine (9), zero (0), the pound sign (#) and then hang up. Luckily, I was suspicious and refused. Upon contacting the telephone company, I was informed that by pushing 90#, you give the requesting individual full access to your telephone line, which allows them to place long distance telephone calls billed to your home phone number. I was further informed that this scam has been originating from many of the local jails/prisons. I have also verified this information with CUB telecom, Pacific Bell, MCI, Bell Atlantic, GTE and NYNEX. Please beware. DO NOT press 90# for ANYONE. The GTE Security Department requested that I share this information with EVERYONE I KNOW. PLEASE pass this on to everyone YOU know. If you have mailing lists and/or newsletters from organizations you are connected with, I encourage you to pass on this information to them, too.

Variant B Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

T

his is an age-old scam, but beware. In moments of stupidity, we sometimes assume that everyone on the other end of the phone line is legitimate.

I received a telephone call last evening from an individual identifying himself as an AT&T service technician who was conducting a test on the telephone lines. He stated that to complete the test I should touch nine (9), zero (0) the pound sign (#), and then hang up. Luckily, I was suspicious and refused. Upon contacting the telephone company, I was informed that by pushing 90# you give the requesting individual full access to your telephone line, which enables them to place long distance calls billed to your home phone number. I was further informed that this scam has been originating from many local jails/prisons. I have also verified this information with UCB Telecom, Pacific Bell, MCI, Bell Atlantic, and GTE.

217


Please beware. DO NOT press 90# for anyone. The GTE Security Department requested that I share this information with everyone I Know. Please pass this on to everyone you know. If you have mailing lists and/or newsletters from organizations you are connected with, I encourage you to pass on this information to them, too. Please let your friends know. Sales Rep. AT&T

SLAVEMASTER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

W

arning from State Police—Please be careful!!!! State Police Warning!!!!!! Serious. This is something from the State Police. Please read this “very carefully” ... then send it out to all the people online that you know. Something like this is nothing to take casually; this is something you DO want to pay attention to. Think of it as a bit of advice too. If a person with the screen-name of SweetCaliGuy4evr contacts you, do not reply. DO not talk to this person; do not answer any of his/her instant messages or E-mail. Whoever this person may be, he/she is a suspect for murder in the death of 56 women (so far) contacted through the Internet. Please send this to all the women on your buddy list and ask them to pass this on, as well. This screen-name was seen on Yahoo, AOL, and Excite, so far. This is not a joke! Please send this to men too ... just in case!

ANGER MANAGEMENT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

218

Appendix: Cyberspace | Anger Management


W

hen you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know—take it out on someone you don’t know. I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying, “Hello.” I politely said, “Could I please speak with Robin Carter?” Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude. I realized I had called the wrong number. I tracked down Robin’s correct number and called her. I had accidentally transposed the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the “wrong” number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, “You’re an asshole!” and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word “asshole” next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re an asshole!” It always cheered me up. When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic “asshole” calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I’m just calling to see if you’re familiar with the Caller ID program?” He yelled, “NO!” and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re an asshole!” One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for that spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a “For Sale” sign in his car window so, I wrote down his number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too. I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?” “Yes, it is.” “Can you tell me where I can see it?” “Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house, and the car’s parked right out in front.”

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“What’s your name?” I asked. “My name is Don Hansen,” he said. “When’s a good time to catch you, Don?” “I’m home every evening after five.” “Listen, Don, can I tell you something?” “Yes?” “Don, you’re an asshole.” Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1. “Hello.” “You’re an asshole!” (But I didn’t hang up.) “Are you still there?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said. “Stop calling me,” he screamed. “Make me,” I said. “Who are you?” he asked. “My name is Don Hansen.” “Yeah? Where do you live?” “Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front.” He said, “I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.” I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole.” Then I called Asshole #2. “Hello?” he said. “Hello, asshole,” I said. He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are...!” “You’ll what?” I said. “I’ll kick your ass,” he exclaimed. I answered, “Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.” Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on West 34th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. When I got there, I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and the channel 13 News crew. NOW, I feel better.... This is Anger Management at its very best!!

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Gullibility Virus

GULLIBILITY VIRUS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ARNING, CAUTION, DANGER, AND BEWARE! Gullibility Virus spreading over the Internet!

* * * Midsomer Norton, Somerset, England—Christmas Day 1998 The Institute for the Investigation of Irregular Internet Phenomena announced today that many Internet users are becoming infected by a new virus that causes them to believe without question every groundless story, legend, and dire warning that shows up in their inbox or on their browser. The Gullibility Virus, as it is called, apparently makes people believe and forward copies of silly hoaxes relating to cookie recipes, E-mail viruses, taxes on modems, and get-rich-quick schemes. “These are not just readers of tabloids or people who buy lottery tickets based on fortune cookie numbers,” a spokesman said, “most are otherwise normal people, who would laugh at the same stories if told to them by a stranger in a bar. However, once these same people become infected with the Gullibility Virus, they believe anything they read on the Internet.” “My immunity to tall tales and bizarre claims is all gone,” reported one weeping victim. “I believe every warning message and sick child story that my friends forward to me, even though most of the messages are anonymous.” Another victim, now in remission, said, “When I first heard about Good Times, I just accepted it without question. After all, there were dozens of other recipients on the mail header, so I thought that the virus must be real.” It was a long time, the victim added, before she could stand up at a Hoaxees Anonymous meeting and state, “My name is Jane, and I’ve been hoaxed.” Now, however, she is spreading the word. “Challenge and check whatever you read,” she advises. Internet users are urged to examine themselves for symptoms of the virus, which include the following:

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* The willingness to believe improbable stories without thinking * The urge to forward multiple copies of such stories to others * Lack of desire to take three minutes to check if a story is true Tony is an example of someone recently infected. He told one reporter, “I read on the Net that the major ingredient in almost all shampoos makes your hair fall out, so I stopped using shampoo.” When told about the Gullibility Virus, Tony said he would stop reading email, so that he would not become reinfected. Anyone with symptoms like these is urged to seek help. Experts recommend that at the first feelings of gullibility, Internet users should rush to their favorite search engine and look up the item tempting them to thoughtless credence. Most hoaxes, legends, and tall tales have been widely discussed and exposed by the Internet community. Courses in critical thinking are also widely available, and there is online help from many sources, including: Department of Energy Computer Incident Advisory Capability at http://ciac.llnl.gov/ciac/CIACHoaxes.html Computer Virus Myths page at http://www.kumite.com/myths IBM’s Hype Alert web site at http://www.av.ibm.com/BreakingNews/HypeAlert Symantec Anti Virus Research Center Hoax Page at http://www.symantec.com/avcenter/hoax.html Network Associates Virus Hoax Listing at http://www.nai.com/services/support/hoax/hoax.asp Dr. Solomon’s Hoax Page at http://www.drsolomon.com/vircen/vanalyse/va005.html The Urban Legends Web Site at http://www.urbanlegends.com Urban Legends Reference Pages at http://www.snopes.com Mining Company Urban Legends Page at http://urbanlegends.miningco.com Datafellows Hoax Warnings at http://www.Europe.Datafellows.com/news/hoax.htm Those people who are still symptom free can help inoculate themselves against the Gullibility Virus by reading some good material on evaluating sources, such as: Evaluating Internet Research Sources at http://www.sccu.edu/faculty/R_Harris/evalu8it.htm

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Appendix: Cyberspace | The Mother of All Urban Legends

Evaluation of Information Sources at http://www.vuw.ac.nz/~agsmith/evaln/evaln.htm Bibliography on Evaluating Internet Resources at http://refserver.lib.vt.edu/libinst/critTHINK.HTM Lastly, as a public service, Internet users can help stamp out the Gullibility Virus by sending copies of this message to anyone who forwards them a hoax. * * * This message is so important, we’re sending it anonymously! Forward it to all your friends right away! Don’t think about it! This is not a chain letter! This story is true! This story is so important, we’re using lots of exclamation points! If you are worried that you or your loved ones may be affected you should send a dollar bill (or its equivalent in your local currency), and a list of their names and email addresses, to: The Home for the Hopelessly Gullible, 12, Redfield Road, Midsomer Norton, BA3 2JN, Bath, England, and we will, ABSOLUTELY FREE, determine if any of you are affected with the Gullibility Virus and advise our findings in the strictest confidence. * * * ACT NOW BEFORE THE MILLENNIUM! DON’T DELAY! LIMITED TIME! THIS SERVICE IS CHOLESTEROL-FREE AND CONTAINS NO SODIUM, ANIMAL PRODUCTS, MSG, GLUTEN, OR TROPICAL OILS.

THE MOTHER OF ALL URBAN LEGENDS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

I

was on my way to the post office to pick up my case of free M&M’s (sent to me because I forwarded an E-mail to five other people, celebrating the fact that the year 2000 is “MM” in Roman numerals), when I ran into a friend whose neighbor, a young man, was home recovering from having been served a

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rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken (which is predictable, since as everyone knows, there’s no actual chicken in Kentucky Fried Chicken, which is why the government made them change their name to KFC). Anyway, one day this guy went to sleep and when he awoke he was in his bathtub and it was full of ice and he was sore all over and when he got out of the tub he realized that HIS KIDNEY HAD BEEN STOLEN. He saw a note on his mirror that said “Call 911!” but he was afraid to use his phone because it was connected to his computer, and there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard drive if he opened an E-mail entitled “Join the crew!” He knew it wasn’t a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer who was working on software to prevent a global disaster in which all the computers get together and distribute the $250 Neiman Marcus cookie recipe under the leadership of Bill Gates. (It’s true—I read it all last week in a mass E-mail from BILL GATES HIMSELF, who was also promising me a free Disney World vacation and $5,000 if I would forward the E-mail to everyone I know.) The poor man then tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report his missing kidneys, but a voice on the line first asked him to press #90, which unwittingly gave the bandit full access to the phone line at the guy’s expense. Then reaching into the coin-return slot he got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped a note that said, “Welcome to the world of AIDS.” Luckily he was only a few blocks from the hospital—the one where that little boy who is dying of cancer is, the one whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an E-mail and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every E-mail he receives. I sent him two E-mails and one of them was a bunch of X’s and O’s in the shape of an angel (if you get it and forward it to more than 10 people, you will have good luck but for only 10 people you will only have OK luck and if you send it to fewer than 10 people you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS). So anyway the poor guy tried to drive himself to the hospital, but on the way he noticed another car driving without its lights on. To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation. Send THIS to all the friends who send you their mail and you will receive 4 green M&Ms—if you don’t, the owner of Proctor and Gamble will report you to his Satanist friends and you will have more bad luck: you will get sick from the Sodium Laureth Sulfate in your shampoo, your spouse will develop a skin rash from using the antiperspirant which clogs the pores under your arms, and the U.S. government will put a tax on your E-mails forever. I know this is all true ’cause I read it on the Internet.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Organ Theft Parody

ORGAN THEFT PARODY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

W

ARNING!!! I know you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. While that was an “urban legend” this one is not. It’s happening every day. I’m sending this warning to all of my closest friends. You, too, may have been a victim. Read on.... My thighs were stolen from me during the night of September 30th a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else’s thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these? What happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for them. I searched—in vain—at pools and beaches, anyplace where female limbs might be exposed. I became obsessed. I had nightmares filled with cellulite and flesh that turned to bumps in the night. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose. Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was next!!! I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new butt, although it was badly attached. It was three inches lower than the original to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. A year later, it was my breasts. Once full, yet perky, they now lay like bags of water on my chest, no longer proudly pointing forward to greet the world, but looking down at my feet, as though hanging in shame. Two years ago, I realized my arms had been switched. One morning while fixing my hair, I watched, horrified but fascinated, as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. Bat wings!!! And I didn’t even see the Bat Signal!! This was really getting scary!!! My body was being replaced, cleverly and fiendishly, one section at a time. In the end, in deepening despair, I gave up my t-shirts. What could they do to me next? Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up,

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unnoticed and intangible, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked, repeatedly and without warning! That’s why I’ve decided to share my story ... I can’t take on the medical profession all by myself. Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee! That isn’t really “plastic” those surgeons are using. You know where they’re getting those replacement parts, don’t you? The next time you suspect someone has had a face “lifted,” look again! Was it lifted from you? Check out those tummy tucks and butt raisings. Look familiar? Are those your eyelids on that movie star? I think I finally have found my thighs, and I hope Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them. This is NOT a hoax!!! This is happening every night to women in every town all across the world. Warn your friends !!!!

FINALLY PUTTING TO REST E-MAIL MYTHS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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hoever decided to create this note and forward it on should receive some type of humanitarian award. It says it all!

1. Big companies don’t do business via chain letters. Bill Gates is not giving you $1,000, and Disney is not giving you a free vacation. There is no baby food company issuing class action checks. Procter and Gamble is not part of a satanic cult or scheme, and its logo is not satanic. MTV will not give you backstage passes if you forward something to the most people. You can relax; there is no need to pass it on “just in case it’s true.” Furthermore, just because someone said in a message, four generations back, that “we checked it out and it’s legit,” does not actually make it true. 2. There is no kidney theft ring in New Orleans. No one is waking up in a bathtub full of ice, even if a friend of a friend swears it happened to their cousin. If you are hell-bent on believing the kidney theft ring stories, please see: http://urbanlegends.tqn.com/library/weekly/aa062997.htm.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Finally Putting to Rest E-mail Myths

And I quote: “The National Kidney Foundation has repeatedly issued requests for actual victims of organ thieves to come forward and tell their stories. None have.” That’s “none” as in “zero.” Not even your friend’s cousin. 3. Neiman Marcus doesn’t really sell a $200 cookie recipe. And even if they do, we all have it. And even if you don’t, you can get a copy at: http://www.bl.net/forwards/cookie.html. Then, if you make the recipe, decide the cookies are that awesome, feel free to pass the recipe on. 4. If the latest NASA rocket disaster(s) DID contain plutonium that went to particulate over the eastern seaboard, do you REALLY think this information would reach the public via an AOL chain letter? 5. There is no “Good Times” virus. In fact, you should never, ever, ever forward any mail containing any virus warning unless you first confirm that an actual site of an actual company that actually deals with viruses. Try: http://www.norton.com. And even then, don’t forward it. We don’t care. And you cannot get a virus from a flashing IM or email, you have to download ... ya know, like, a FILE! 6. There is no gang initiation plot to murder any motorist who flashes headlights at other car driving at night without lights. 7. If you’re using Outlook, Internet Explorer, or Netscape to write E-mail, turn off the “HTML encoding.” Those of us on Unix shells can’t read it, and don’t care enough to save the attachment and then view it with a web browser, since you’re probably forwarding us a copy of the Neiman Marcus Cookie Recipe anyway. 8. If you still absolutely MUST forward that 10th-generation message from a friend, at least have the decency to trim the eight miles of headers showing everyone else who’s received it over the last 6 months. It sure wouldn’t hurt to get rid of all the “>“ that begin each line either. Besides, if it has gone around that many times we’ve probably already seen it. 9. Craig Shergold (or Sherwood, or Sherman, etc.) in England is not dying of cancer or anything else at this time and would like everyone to stop sending him their business cards. He apparently is no longer a “little boy” either. 10. The “Make a Wish” foundation is a real organization doing fine work, but they have had to establish a special toll free hot line in response to the large number of Internet hoaxes using their good name and reputation. It is distracting them from the important work they do. 11. If you are one of those insufferable idiots who forwards anything that “promises” something bad will happen if you “don’t,” then something bad will happen to you if I ever meet you in a dark alley.

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12. Women really are suffering in Afghanistan, and PBS and NEA funding are still vulnerable to attack (although not at the present time) but forwarding an E-mail won’t help either cause in the least. If you want to help, contact your local legislative representative, or get in touch with Amnesty International or the Red Cross. As a general rule, E-mail “signatures” are easily faked and mean nothing to anyone with any power to do anything about whatever the competition is complaining about. (P.S.: There is no bill pending before Congress that will allow long-distance companies to charge you for using the Internet.) Bottom Line ... composing E-mail or posting something on the Net is as easy as writing on the walls of a public restroom. Don’t automatically believe it until it’s proven false ...ASSUME it’s false, unless there is proof that it’s true. Now, forward this message to ten friends, and you will win the Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes. ;-)

GEORGE AND SADDAM Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

S

addam Hussein and George W. Bush agree to meet up in Baghdad for the first round of talks in a new peace process. When George sits down, he notices three buttons on the arm of Saddam’s chair. They begin talking and after about five minutes Saddam presses the first button. A boxing glove springs out of a box on the desk and punches Bush in the face. Annoyed, Bush carries on talking as Saddam laughs. A few minutes later the second button is pressed. This time a big boot comes out and kicks Bush in the shin. Again Saddam laughs, and again George carries on talking, not wanting to put off the bigger issue of peace between the two countries. But when the third button is pressed and another boot comes out and kicks Bush square in the privates, he’s finally had enough. “I’m headin’ back home!” he calmly tells the Iraqi.” We’ll finish these talks in Washington in two weeks!”

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Death of William Hung

Two weeks pass and Saddam flies to the United States. Saddam notices three buttons on Bush’s chair arm and prepares himself for the Texan’s retaliation. They begin talking and George presses the first button. Saddam ducks, but nothing happens. George snickers but they continue talking. A few minutes later he presses the second button. Saddam jumps up, but again nothing happens. Bush roars with laughter. They continue the talks but when the third button is pressed, Saddam jumps up again, but again nothing happens. Bush falls on the floor in a fit of hysterics. “Forget this,” says Saddam. “I’m going back to Baghdad!” George W. says, through tears of laughter, “WHAT Baghdad???”

DEATH OF WILLIAM HUNG Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2004 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

W

eird!!!! Anybody know if this is for real? Las Vegas, NV—Kitschy American Idol Star William Hung, famous for his botching of Ricky Martin’s “She Bangs,” was found dead yesterday, apparently of an intentional heroin overdose. The announcement of his death sent shockwaves to the tens of people who still found him funny. Ironically, Mr. Hung was found by a VH1 camera crew sent to begin filing “William Hung: Behind the ‘Music.’” Viacom immediately decided to rename the special: “William Hung: fifteen minutes till death.” Friends of Mr. Hung say he had become despondent in recent days. “I don’t know, it’s just so sad,” said Ming Tse, one of Hung’s former classmates at Stanford, “I heard him the other day on Snotbubble’s Morning Madhouse; he kept trying to make William say things like ‘me so horny’ and ‘hey sailor’ while playing the sound of a bomb falling. I just know William was hurting inside when Snotbubble got him to say, ‘you wanna some-e egg foo young-e.’ It was so sad. I just think he was tired of the commercialization of it all.” Other friends, who had lost contact with him in recent weeks, feared he was becoming too “Hollywood.” “I’m not surprised he was on heroin,” said Hung’s

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engineering cohort Melvin Samples, “I mean just two months ago we were out at our usual corner table at Smitty’s, and William actually went and talked to some girls. The next thing I know he’s doing shots with some hipster guys; they were calling him ‘Long Duck Dong’ and making him say ‘au-to-mo-bile.’ From what I hear, it’s not a long leap from that to heroin addiction.” Stanford’s hippie population immediately misconstrued the situation and adopted Hung’s death as a pet cause. “He was a victim of the corporate greedmachine, just like Kurt [Cobain] and Eddie [Vedder, who is actually still alive],” said one dreadlocked mourner outside the engineering department at Stanford University, where a makeshift memorial had been set up, “he just wanted to sing, and Fox decided to turn him into this joke, man, this fucking joke. They just ate him up and spit him out. Fucking Bill O’Reilly. I think it’s because he was against the war.” The last comment is apparently in reference to the fact that Hung once answered “no, thank you” when asked whether he was “for or against the war in Iraq.” The Las Vegas police released part of his suicide note. It read, “I have no reason of living ... my art which is my importance to the best everybody laugh to ... I make end here ... goodbye world of cruel.” Although Hung’s immediate family disowned him seconds after his appearance on American Idol, it is believed he has an aunt in Toledo, Ohio who will take care of funeral arrangements.

WHITE SUBSTANCE DELAYS AGGIE FOOTBALL PRACTICE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

T

he Texas A&M Aggie afternoon football practice was delayed on Tuesday for nearly two hours. One of the players, while on his way to practice happened to look down and notice a suspicious looking, unknown white powdery substance on the practice field. Head coach R. C.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Tales from Northern Michigan

Slocum immediately suspended practice while the CSPD and FBI were called in to investigate. After a complete field analysis, the FBI determined that the white, powdery substance unknown to the players was the goal line chalk. Practice was resumed when FBI Special Agents decided that the team was not likely to encounter that substance again.

TALES FROM NORTHERN MICHIGAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

L

ena called the airlines information desk and inquired, “How long does it take to fly from Minneapolis to Fargo?”

“Just a minute,” said the busy clerk. “Vell,” said Lena, “if it has to go dat fast, I tink I’ll just take da bus.” * * * The judge had just awarded a divorce to Lena, who had charged non-support. He said to Ole, “I have decided to give your wife $400 a month for support.” “Vell, dat’s fine, Judge,” said Ole. “And vunce in a while I’ll try to chip in a few bucks myself.” * * * Ole’s neighbor Sven had a boy, Sven Junior, who came home one day and asked, “Papa, I have da biggest feet in da third grade. Is dat becoss I’m Norvegian?” “No,” said Sven, “It’s because you’re NINETEEN.” * * * Lars asked Ole, “Do ya know da difference between a Norvegian and a canoe?” “No, I don’t,” said Ole. “A canoe will sometimes tip,” explained Lars. * * *

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Ole is so cheap that after his airplane landed safely, he grumbled: “Vell, dere gose five dollars down da drain for dat flight insurance!” * * * Ole wore both of his winter jackets when he painted his house last July. The directions on the can said “put on two coats.” * * * Lars: “Ole, stant in front of my car and tell me if da turn signals are vorking.” Ole: “Yes, No, Yes, No, Yes, No, Yes, No....” * * * Lena was being interviewed for a job as maid for the very wealthy Mrs. Diamond, who asked her: “Do you have any religious views?” “No,” said Lena, “but I’ve got some nice pictures of Norway.” * * * Ole died. So Lena went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Lena what she would like to say about Ole. Lena replied, “You yust put ‘Ole died.’” The gentleman, somewhat perplexed, said, “That’s it? Just ‘Ole died’? Surely, there must be something more you’d like to say about Ole. If its money you’re concerned about, the first five words are free. We must say something more.” So Lena pondered for a few minutes and finally said, “O.K. You put ‘Ole died. Boat for sale.’” * * * Ole and Sven were taking a vacation in Sven’s new camper. As usual, they’d become lost and were wandering around a strange town trying to find the highway. Sven was just starting down a grade to go under a bridge when he slams on the brakes. Ole: “Vat da heck you do dat for, Sven?” Sven: Dat sign dere says “Low Bridge. No Vehicles Over Twelve Feet High.” Dis here camper is t’irteen feet! Ole: “Cripes almighty Sven, dere ain’t no cops around. Yust hit da gas pedal and go for it!”

REDNECK VASECTOMY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Toilet Paper Miracle


A

fter having their 11th child, an Alabama couple decided that was enough, as they could not afford a larger bed. So the husband went to his doctor/veterinarian and told him that he and his wife/cousin didn’t want to have any more children. The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but that it was expensive. A less costly alternative, said the doctor, was to go home, get a cherry bomb (fireworks are legal in Alabama), light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to his ear and count to 10. The Alabamian said to the doctor, “I may not be the smartest man in the world, but I don’t see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear is going to help me.” “Trust me,” said the doctor. So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can up to his ear and began to count: “1” “2” “3” “4” “5” At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs, and resumed counting on his other hand. This procedure also works in Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, & West Virginia.

TOILET PAPER MIRACLE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

F

resh from her shower, a woman stands in front of the mirror, complaining to her husband that her breasts are too small.

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Instead of characteristically telling her it’s not so, the husband uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion. “If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between your breasts for a few seconds.” Willing to try anything, the wife fetches a piece of toilet paper and stands in front of the mirror, rubbing it between her breasts. “How long will this take?” she asks. “They’ll grow larger over a period of years,” he replies. The wife stops. “Why do you think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts grow over the years?” “Worked for your butt, didn’t it?” He lived, and with a great deal of therapy, HE may even walk again.

WANTED FOR ATTEMPTED MURDER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

W

ANTED FOR ATTEMPTED MURDER (The actual AP headline) Linda Burnett, 23, was visiting her in-laws, and while there went to a nearby supermarket to pick up some groceries. Several people noticed her sitting in her car with the windows rolled up and with her eyes closed, with both hands behind the back of her head. One customer who had been at the store for a while became concerned and walked over to the car. He noticed that Linda’s eyes were now open, and she looked very strange. He asked her if she was okay, and Linda replied that she’d been shot in the back of the head, and had been holding her brains in for over an hour. The man called the paramedics, who broke into the car because the doors were locked and Linda refused to remove her hands from her head. When they finally got in, they found that Linda had a wad of bread dough on the back of her head. A Pillsbury biscuit canister had exploded from the heat, making a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot, and the wad of dough hit her in the back of her

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Free Honda

head. When she reached back to find out what it was, she felt the dough and thought it was her brains. She initially passed out, but quickly recovered and tried to hold her brains in for over an hour until someone noticed and came to her aid. And, yes, Linda is a blonde. * * * 1–You lock the target. 2–You bait the line. 3–You slowly spread the net and 4–You catch the man.

FREE HONDA Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

P

lease forward—I can’t imagine that it is true but you never know. It can’t hurt! :) Have a great day. Wouldn’t it be fun if it were true? :)

First off, I just want everyone to know that this is the real thing. I forwarded this message to everyone I know about 6 months ago and last week a Honda employee showed up at my house with my brand new 1999 Civic EX!!! It is so funny because I never believed these things worked and actually I sent this one as a joke to all my friends. But they forwarded the message too and now I have received a new car!!! My best friend actually hasn’t gotten his car just yet but he checked the balance of his Honda Account and it has reached nearly $11,000!!! If you like Hondas or you just want a new car, please forward this message it is the real thing. —Bob ———, Denver, Colorado * * * riends, Look I know this sounds too good to be true, and that’s what I thought too. But I called Honda’s headquarters in Japan and spoke to an American representative myself and it really is true! They assured me that this the real thing! I still wasn’t convinced but I called three weeks later and my

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Honda account balance has reached the unbelievable sum of $12,500!!! So even if you don’t believe this forward it anyway so my account will continue to grow until I get my brand new Prelude!!! —Steve ———, Minneapolis, Minnesota * * * ear valued potential customers: Here at Honda we have been well known for over 20 years for providing the best in reliability, comfort, and style. Over the years we have risen to be one of the top auto industries here in Japan. But that isn’t enough. We want to be number one in the U.S. Now our twentieth anniversary for making cars is here!!! This is the perfect opportunity for you and us here at Honda to celebrate our 20 years of excellent service. We have been trying to think of ideas to get more people to know about our cars. And with technology and E-mail being the wave of the future, we want to jump on this opportunity. So we have set up a rewards system to repay those who help us spread the word about Honda. Our marketing staff has designed a special program that traces this message as it travels across the U.S. Anyone who forwards this E-mail, will immediately have an account at their local Honda dealer opened in their name. This account will initially be opened with a credit of $1,000 toward any new or used vehicle at their participating dealership. For each person you forward this E-mail to, the amount of $200 will be added to your account. If the recipients of this E-mail forward it you will be rewarded an additional $100 for each person it reaches and if they also forward it your account continues to grow in $100 increments. You can log onto our Web site at http://www.Honda.com to check the balance of your account. If things go well and everyone participates you should see your account grow quite quickly. Follow the on screen instructions to order the specific make and model of Honda you want to buy with your account. We hope that this is a rewarding experience for you and us. Our goal is to reach over 1 million computers by the year 2000. I thank you for your time and business. Sincerely, ——— Senior Honda Marketing Advisor

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Appendix: Cyberspace | The Rich Adolescent’s Chain Letter

THE RICH ADOLESCENT’S CHAIN LETTER Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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arents of 15-year old find $71,000 cash hidden in his closet. Does this headline look familiar? Of course it does. You most likely have seen this story recently featured on a major nightly news program. This 15-year-old’s mother was cleaning and putting laundry away when she came across a large brown paper bag that was suspiciously buried beneath some clothes and a skateboard in the back of her 15-year-old son’s closet. Nothing could have prepared her for the shock she got when she opened the bag and found it was full of cash. Five dollar bills, twenties, fifties, and hundreds—all neatly rubber-banded in labeled piles. “My first thought was that he had robbed a bank,” says the 41–year-old woman, “There was over $71,000 dollars in that bag—that’s more than my husband earns in a year.” The woman immediately called her husband at the car dealership where he worked to tell him what she’d discovered. He came home right away and they drove together to the boy’s school and picked him up. Little did they suspect that where the money came from was more shocking than actually finding it in the closet. As it turns out, the boy had been sending out via E-mail on the Internet a type of “chain letter” to E-mail addresses that he obtained off of the Internet. Everyday after school for the past 2 months, he had been doing this right on his computer in his bedroom. “I just got the E-mail one day and I figured what the heck, I put my name on it like the instructions said and I started sending it out,” says the clever 15–year-old. The E-mail letter listed 3 addresses and contained instructions to send one $5 dollar bill to the person at the top of the list, then delete that address and move the other 2 addresses up, and finally to add your name to the bottom of the list. The letter goes on to state that you would receive several thousand dollars in five dollar bills within 2 weeks if you sent out the letter with your name

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at the bottom of the 3-address list “I get junk E-mail all the time, and I really didn’t think it was gonna work,” the boy continues. Within the first few days of sending out the E-mail, the Post Office Box that his parents had gotten him for his video-game magazine subscriptions began to fill up with not magazines, but envelopes containing $5 dollar bills. “About a week later I rode [my bike] down to the post office and my box had 1 magazine and about 300 envelopes stuffed in it. There was also a yellow slip that said I had to go up to the [post office] counter—I thought I was in trouble or something (laughs).” He goes on, “I went up to the counter and they had a whole box of more mail for me. I had to ride back home and empty out my backpack ’cause I couldn’t carry it all.” Over the next few weeks, the boy continued sending out the E-mail. “The money just kept coming in and I just kept sorting it and stashing it in the closet, I barely had time for my homework.” He had also been riding his bike to several of the area’s banks and exchanging the $5 bills for twenties, fifties and hundreds. “I didn’t want the banks to get suspicious so I kept riding to different banks with like five thousand at a time in my backpack. I would usually tell the lady at the bank counter that my dad had sent me in to exchange the money and he was outside waiting for me. One time the lady gave me a really strange look and told me that she wouldn’t be able to do it for me and my dad would have to come in and do it, but I just rode to the next bank down the street.” Surprisingly, the boy didn’t have any reason to be afraid. The reporting news team examined and investigated the so-called “chain letter” the boy was sending out and found that it wasn’t a chain letter at all. In fact, it was completely legal according to U.S. Postal and Lottery Laws, Title 18, Section 1302 and 1341, or Title 18, Section 3005 in the U.S. code, also in the code of federal regulations, Volume 16, Sections 255 and 436, which state a product or service must be exchanged for money received. Every five-dollar bill that he received contained a little note that read, “Please add me to your mailing list.” This simple note made the letter legal because he was exchanging a service (adding the purchaser’s name to his mailing list) for a five-dollar fee. Here is the letter that the 15-year-old was sending out by E-mail, you can do the exact same thing he was doing, simply by following the instructions in this letter: * * * Here are instructions on how to make $10,000 U.S. cash in the next 2 weeks: * * * If you don’t try it you will never know. There are 3 addresses listed below.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | The Rich Adolescent’s Chain Letter

Send the person at the top of the list a $5 bill wrapped in 2 pieces of paper (to securely hide it), along with a note that says: “Please add me to your mailing list.” Then delete that name, move the other 2 up and put your name at the bottom. Now start sending this ENTIRE E-mail back out to people. When 20 people receive it, those 20 people will move your name up to the middle position and they will each send out 20. That totals 400 people that will receive this letter with your name in the middle. Then, those 400 people will move your name up to the top and they will each send out 20 E-mails. That totals 8,000 people that will receive this E-mail with your name at the top and they will each send you a $5 bill. 8,000 people each sending you a $5 bill = $40,000 cash. That’s if everyone responds to this E-mail, but not everyone will, so you can expect more realistically to receive about $10,000 cash $5 bills in your mailbox. This will work for anyone, anywhere in the world in any country, but send only a U.S. CASH $5 bill. The more E-mails you send out, the more cash you will receive. If each person sends out 100 E-mails, there will be 1,000,000 people that receive this letter when your name reaches the top. If only 1% of those people respond, you will still get $50,000 cash.

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CHRISTIANS CHARGED FOR READING BIBLE IN PRISON Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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wouldn’t have believed this, but my friend checked this out and it really was on Fox News... PENNSYLVANIA CHRISTIANS FACE 47 YEARS IN PRISON FOR READING THE BIBLE IN PUBLIC. Philadelphia charges Christians with hate crimes, inciting a riot, and using a deadly weapon. Bill O’Reilly reported on the situation on Fox News Channel. Dear Friend, What we have been saying has now happened. You cannot quote what the Bible has to say about homosexuality in public or you will be charged with a “hate crime.” Philadelphia is only the beginning. If we fail to take a stand here, this “crime” will soon be applied across America. In the 27 years of this ministry, I have never witnessed a more outrageous miscarriage of justice than what is happening in Philadelphia. Four Christians


are facing up to 47 years in prison and $90,000 in fines for preaching the Gospel on a public sidewalk, a right fully protected by the First Amendment. On October 10, 2004, the four Christians were arrested in Philadelphia. They are part of Repent America. Along with founder Michael Marcavage, members of Repent America—with police approval—were preaching near Outfest, a homosexual event, handing out Gospel literature and carrying banners with Biblical messages. When they tried to speak, they were surrounded by a group of radical homosexual activists dubbed the Pink Angels. A videotape of the incident shows the Pink Angels interfering with the Christians’ movement on the street, holding up large pink symbols of angels to cover up the Christians’ messages and blowing high pitched whistles to drown out their preaching. Rather than arrest the homosexual activists and allow the Christians to exercise their First Amendment rights, the Philadelphia police arrested and jailed the Christians! They were charged with eight crimes, including three felonies: possession of instruments of crime (a bullhorn), ethnic intimidation (saying that homosexuality is a sin), and inciting a riot (reading from the Bible some passages relating to homosexuality) despite the fact that no riot occurred. You may think I am exaggerating. I’m not. Our AFA Center for Law and Policy is representing these four individuals at no cost. We will take this case all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary to get justice. There is so much more about this case I don’t have room for it in this letter. We have prepared a 25-minute VHS/DVD in which two AFA-CLP attorneys discuss the case in detail. Please help us with our expenses in representing these committed Christians. With your tax-deductible gift of $15, less than the cost of a cup of coffee once a month for the next year, we will send your choice of either the VHS or DVD. Watch the VHS/DVD, then share it with your Sunday school class and church. This VHS/DVD should be required viewing in every church in America.

PROCTER AND GAMBLE AND LIZ CLAIBORNE CONFESS TO CHURCH OF SATAN ON SALLY Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Procter and Gamble and Liz Claiborne Confess to Church of Satan on Sally


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he President of Procter & Gamble appeared on the Sally Jesse Raphael show on March 1, 1998. He announced that “due to the openness of our society,” he was coming out of the closet about his association with the church of Satan. He stated that a large portion of his profits from Procter & Gamble Products goes to support this satanic church. When asked by Sally Jesse if stating this on TV would hurt his business, he replied, “THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH CHRISTIANS IN THE UNITED STATES TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.” Product list includes: Cleaning supplies: Bold, Cascade, Cheers, Joy, Comet, Dash, Spic & Span, Tide, Top Job, Oxidol, Ivory Dreft, Gain, Mr. Clean, Lest Oil, Bounty Towels. Food: Duncan Hines, Fisher Nuts, Fisher Mints, Dehydrated Fruits Coffee: Folgers, High Point Shortening Oils: Crisco, Puritan, Fluffo Deodorant: Secret, Sure Diapers: Luvs, Pampers Hair Care: Lilt, Head & Shoulders, Prell, Pert, Vidal Sassoon, Ivory Acne Product: Clearasil Mouthwash/Toothpaste: Scope, Crest, Gleem Peanut Butter: JIF Personal Hygiene: Always, Attend Undergarments Lotions: Oil of Olay, Wondra Soap: Camay, Coast, Ivory, Lava, Safeguard, Zest, Oil of Olay Fabric Softener: Downy, Bounce Citrus Punch: Sunny Delight Medication: Aleve, Pepto-Bismol If you are not sure about the product, look for a Procter & Gamble written on the products, or the symbol of a ram’s horn, which will appear on each product beginning on January 1, 2000. The ram’s horn will form the 666, which is known as Satan’s number. Christians should remember that if they purchase any of these products, they will be contributing to the church of Satan. Inform other Christians about this and STOP buying Procter & Gamble Products. Let’s show Procter & Gamble that there are enough Christians to make a difference.

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On a previous Jenny Jones Show, the owner of Procter &Gamble said that if Satan would prosper him, he would give his heart and soul to him. Then he gave Satan credit for his riches. Anyone interested seeing this tape, should send $3.00 to: SALLY TRANSCRIPTS 515 WEST 57TH STREET NEW YORK NY 10019 WE URGE YOU TO MAKE COPIES OF THIS AND PASS IT ON TO AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE. THIS NEEDS TO STOP. LIZ CLAIRBORNE ALSO PROFESSES TO WORSHIP SATAN AND RECENTLY OPENLY ADMITTED ON THE OPRAH WINFREY SHOW THAT HALF OF HER PROFITS GO TOWARDS THE CHURCH OF SATAN.

“TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL” CANCELLATION Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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BS will be forced to discontinue “Touched by an Angel” for using the word God in every program. ———, an atheist, successfully managed to eliminate the use of Bible reading from public schools a few years ago. Now her organization has been granted a Federal Hearing on the same subject by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in Washington, DC. Their petition, Number 2493, would ultimately pave the way to stop the reading of the gospel of our Lord and Savior, on the airwaves of America. They got 287,000 signatures to back their stand! If this attempt is successful, all Sunday worship services being broadcast on the radio or by television will be stopped. This group is also campaigning to remove all Christmas programs and Christmas carols from public schools!! You as a Christian can help! We are praying for at least 1 million signatures. This would defeat their effort and show that there are many Christians alive, well, and concerned about our country. As Christians we must unite on this.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | The Dalai Lama’s Instructions for Life

Please don’t take this lightly. We ignored this lady once and lost prayer in our school and in offices across the nation. Please stand up for your religious freedom and let your voice be heard. Together we can make a difference in our country while creating an opportunity for the lost to know the Lord. Please press “forward” and only delete out what is not needed, and forward this to everyone on your list. Now, please sign your name at the bottom. Don’t delete anything, just go to the next number and type your name. Please do not sign jointly, such as Mr. & Mrs. Each person should sign his/her own name. Please E-mail this to everyone you know, and help us defeat this organization and keep the right of our freedom of religion.

THE DALAI LAMA’S INSTRUCTIONS FOR LIFE Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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his is what The Dalai Lama has to say for 2005. This is a nice reading, but short. All it takes is a few seconds to read and think. Do not keep this message. The mantra must leave your hands within 96 hours. You will get a very pleasant surprise. This is true even if you are not superstitious. INSTRUCTIONSFORLIFE Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson. Follow the three Rs: Respect for self Respect for others and Responsibility for all your actions. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

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Spend some time alone every day. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality. Be gentle with the earth. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it. Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon. FORWARD THIS MANTRA E-MAIL TO AT LEAST 5 PEOPLE AND YOUR LIFE WILL IMPROVE. 0–4 people: Your life will improve slightly. 5–9 people: Your life will improve to your liking. 9–14 people: You will have at least 5 surprises in the next 3 weeks. 15 people and above: Your life will improve drastically and everything you ever dreamed of will begin to take shape.

LIFE LESSONS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ive (5) lessons to make you think about the way we treat people. 1—First Important Lesson—Cleaning Lady. During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Life Lessons

I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy. 2—Second Important Lesson—Pickup in the Rain One night, at 11:30 p.m., an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled ’60s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway he other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away ... God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.” Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole. 3—Third Important Lesson—Always remember those who serve. In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “Fifty cents,” replied the waitress. The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. “Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired.

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By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. “I’ll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip. 4—Fourth Important Lesson—The obstacle in Our Path. In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way. Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition. 5—Fifth Important Lesson—Giving When it Counts. Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes I’ll do it if it will save her.” As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Hotline to Heaven

He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away.” Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her. Now you have 2 choices: 1. Delete this email, or 2. Forward it to people you care about. I hope that you will choose No. 2 “Work like you don’t need the money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like you do when nobody’s watching.” “We will have genuine joy and happiness only as we learn patience.”— Joseph B. Wirthlin

HOTLINE TO HEAVEN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2000 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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t their annual meeting before the beginning of the football season, all the top Big 12 Football programs decided to have Golden Phones installed in each of their respective offices. One day a recruit named Marco walked into Frank Solich’s Nebraska office and saw his Golden Phone sitting there. “Wow,” Marco exclaimed, “What’s that?” Frank responded, “Well son, that’s my Golden Phone; it’s a direct line to Heaven.” “Wow, that’s pretty neat,” Marco responded. “Do you think I could make a call on that phone?” “Well yes, but it’s going to cost you about $100. You can make the check out to the University of Nebraska Foundation,” replied Frank. “That’s a lot of money. I don’t think I should spend that much. Thanks anyway,” Marco replied as he left the office.

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A few weeks later Marco took a campus visit at the University of Texas and went into Coach Brown’s office where again he saw a Golden Phone. “What exactly is that phone for?” asked Marco Coach Brown replied, “That’s my direct line to Heaven.” “Do you think I could make a call from that phone?” asked Marco. “Well sure, but it’s going to cost you about $200, and you can make the check out to the University of Texas Foundation,” replied Brown. “Oh never mind, I don’t have that kind of money. Thanks though.” Marco shook his head and left Coach Brown’s office. The next weekend, Marco took his official visit to the campus of Texas A&M University and made the office of Coach R. C. Slocum his first stop. Upon arriving, the first thing Marco noticed was the Golden Phone on Coach Slocum’s desk. Marco asked if that was a direct line to Heaven. When Coach Slocum replied that it was, Marco again asked if he could make a call using the phone. “Well sure you can, but it will cost you 35 cents,” replied Slocum. Upon hearing this, Marco’s eyes got real big and he said, “Really? Then why did Coach Solich and Coach Brown tell me it would cost so much more?” Coach Slocum looked up from behind his desk and smiled, saying, “Because, son, here at Texas A&M, it’s a local call.”

WAILING WALL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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reporter goes to Israel to cover the fighting. She is looking for something emotional and positive and of human interest. Something like that guy in Sarajevo who risked his life to play the cello every day in the town square. In Jerusalem, she heard about an old Jew who’s been going to the Wailing Wall to pray, twice a day, every day, for a long, long time. So she went to check it out.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Wailing Wall

She goes to the Wailing Wall and there he is! She watches him pray and after about 45 minutes, when he turns to leave, she approaches him for an interview. “Rebecca Smith, CNN News. Sir, how long have you been coming to the Wailing Wall and praying?” “For about 50 years.” “What do you pray for?” “For peace between the Jews and the Arabs. For all the hatred to stop. For our children to grow up in safety and friendship.” “How do you feel after doing this for 50 years?” “Like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

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BLACK VOTE CANCELLED Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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s everyone should be aware, in 1965, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voters Rights Act. This was created to allow blacks the right to vote. In 1982, President Ronald Reagan signed an amendment to extend this right for an additional twenty-five years. You guessed it ... In 2007 (four years from now), Congress will decide whether or not blacks should retain the right to vote. In order for this to be passed, thirty-eight states will have to approve an extension. For me, as well as many others, this was the first time that we had heard this—thus, bringing concern to all of us! What many blacks before us fought and even died for as well as the milestones that we, as blacks have achieved, this can be taken away from us ... AGAIN! If this issue has taken you by surprise as well, I encourage YOU to contact your Congressperson, alderperson, senator—anyone in government, that you


put your vote behind and ask them what are they doing to—firstly, to get the extension and furthermore, make our right to vote a LAW. This has to become a law in order for our right to vote to no longer be up for discussion, review and/or evaluation. (Remember: blacks are the only group of people who require permission under the United States Constitution to vote!) As Black people, we cannot “drop the ball” on this one! We have come too far to be forced to take such a large step back. So, please let’s push on and forward to continue to build the momentum towards gaining equality. Please pass this on to others, as I am sure that many more individuals are not aware of this.

ELEVATOR INTIMIDATION Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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n a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash the quarters in her room. “I’ll be right back and we’ll go to eat,” she told her husband and she carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator. As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already aboard. Both were black. One of them was big ... very big ... an intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don’t be a bigot, they look like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilized her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt anxious, flustered, ashamed. She hoped they didn’t read her mind, but knew they surely did; her hesitation about joining them on the elevator was all too obvious. Her face was flushed. She couldn’t just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they closed. A second passed, and then another second, and then another. Her fear increased! The elevator didn’t move.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | President Bush’s IQ

Panic consumed her. My God, she thought, I’m trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted. Perspiration poured from every pore. Then ... one of the men said, “Hit the floor.” Instinct told her: Do what they tell you. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator carpet. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare me, she prayed. More seconds passed. She heard one of the men say politely, “Ma’am, if you’ll just tell us what floor you’re going to, we’ll push the button.” The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh. She lifted her head and looked up at the two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to her feet. “When I told my man here to hit the floor,” said the average sized one, “I meant that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn’t mean for you to hit the floor, ma’am.” He spoke genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not laughing. She thought: My God, what a spectacle I’ve made of myself. She was too humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn’t know what to say. The 3 of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket. When the elevator arrived at her floor they insisted on walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring with laughter while they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her husband. The next morning flowers were delivered to her room—a dozen roses. Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. The card said: “Thanks for the best laugh we’ve had in years.” Signed, Eddie Murphy and Michael Jordan.

PRESIDENT BUSH’S IQ Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003

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hy doesn’t this come as any surprise?!? President Bush Has Lowest IQ of all Presidents of past 50 Years In a report published Monday, the Lovenstein Institute of Scranton, Pennsylvania, detailed its findings of a four-month study of the intelligence quotient of President George W. Bush. Since 1973, the Lovenstein Institute has published its research to the education community on each new president, which includes the famous “IQ” report among others. According to statements in the report, there have been twelve presidents over the past 50 years, from F. D. Roosevelt to G. W. Bush who were all rated based on scholarly achievements, writings that they alone produced without aid of staff, their ability to speak with clarity, and several other psychological factors which were then scored in the Swanson/Crain system of intelligence ranking. The study determined the following IQs of each president as accurate to within five percentage points: 147, Franklin D. Roosevelt (D) 132, Harry Truman (D) 122, Dwight D. Eisenhower (R) 174, John F. Kennedy (D) 126, Lyndon B. Johnson (D) 155, Richard M. Nixon (R) 121, Gerald Ford (R) 175, James E. Carter (D) 105, Ronald Reagan (R) 098, George H. W. Bush (R) 182, William J. Clinton (D) 091, George W. Bush (R) or, in IQ order: 182, William J. Clinton (D) 175, James E. Carter (D) 174, John F. Kennedy (D) 155, Richard M. Nixon (R) 147, Franklin D. Roosevelt (D)

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Ticket Rip-off

132, Harry Truman (D) 126, Lyndon B. Johnson (D) 122, Dwight D. Eisenhower (R) 121, Gerald Ford (R) 105, Ronald Reagan (R) 098, George H. W. Bush (R) 091, George W. Bush (R) The six Republican presidents of the past 50 years had an average IQ of 115.5, with President Nixon having the highest IQ, at 155. President G. W. Bush was rated the lowest of all the Republicans with an IQ of 91. The six Democrat presidents had IQs with an average of 156, with President Clinton having the highest IQ, at 182. President Lyndon B. Johnson was rated the lowest of all the Democrats with an IQ of 126. No president other than Carter (D) has released his actual IQ, 176. Among comments made concerning the specific testing of President G. W. Bush, his low ratings were due to his apparent difficulty to command the English language in public statements, his limited use of vocabulary (6,500 words for Bush versus an average of 11,000 words for other presidents), his lack of scholarly achievements other than a basic MBA, and an absence of any body of work which could be studied on an intellectual basis. The complete report documents the methods and procedures used to arrive at these ratings, including depth of sentence structure and voice stress confidence analysis. “All the Presidents prior to George W. Bush had a least one book under their belt, and most had written several white papers during their education or early careers. Not so with President Bush,” Dr. Lovenstein said. “He has no published works or writings, so in many ways that made it more difficult to arrive at an assessment. We had to rely more heavily on transcripts of his unscripted public speaking.” The Lovenstein Institute of Scranton Pennsylvania think tank includes high caliber historians, psychiatrists, sociologists, scientists in human behavior, and psychologists. Among their ranks are Dr. Werner R. Lovenstein, world-renowned sociologist, and Professor Patricia F. Dilliams, a world-respected psychiatrist. This study was commissioned on February 13, 2001, and released on July 9, 2001, to subscribing member universities and organizations within the education community.

TICKET RIP-OFF Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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friend told me told me a coworker of his went to the Mets game the other night. He was selling an extra ticket for face value. Some asshole cop arrested him for scalping. This makes me sick. They took him to a holding cell at Shea, and took his extra tickets from him. They did give him a court date and let him keep one ticket to get back in the game. Here’s the kicker. That mother-fucking cop who arrested him sat in his seat! He had to sit next to the Giuliani Nazi Stormtrooper that busted him. I gotta get more details ... this is sickening. The cop obviously abused his power to get a free ticket to the game. I hope the judge tosses this out in court. NYC judges do indeed toss shit like this out sometimes.... What bullshit....

THE LITTLE ALLIGATOR’S PROBLEM Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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wo alligators are sitting on the edge of a swamp. The small one turns to the big one and says; “I don’t understand how you can be so much bigger than me. We’re the same age, we were the same size as kids ... I just don’t get it.” “Well,” says the big alligator, “what have you been eating?” “Lawyers, same as you,” replies the small alligator. “Hm. Well, where do you catch ’em?” “Down at that law firm on the edge of the swamp.” “Same here. Hm. How do you catch ’em?”

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Gasoline Company Boycott

“Well, I crawl under a BMW and wait for someone to unlock the door. Then I jump out, bite ’em, shake the shit out of ’em, and eat ’em!” “Ah!” says the big alligator, “I think I see your problem. See, by the time you get done shakin’ the shit out of a lawyer, there’s nothing left but lips and a briefcase...”

GO TO SCHOOL Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ast year on Spanish television I heard a story about this gentleman who knocks on his son’s door. “Jaime,” he says, “wake up!”

Jaime answers, “I don’t want to get up, Papa.” The father shouts, “Get up, you have to go to school.” Jaime says, “I don’t want to go to school.” “Why not?” asks the father. “Three reasons,” says Jaime. “First, because it’s so dull; second, the kids tease me; and third, I hate school.” And the father says, “Well, I am going to give you three reasons why you must go to school. First, because it is your duty; second, because you are fortyfive years old, and third, because you are the headmaster.”

GASOLINE COMPANY BOYCOTT Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002

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asoline prices are projected to reach $3 a gallon by the summer. Do you want prices to come down? If some united, intelligent action is taken, consumers can have a significant impact. Last year, the “don’t buy gas on a certain day” campaign was laughed at by the oil companies who knew consumers were only going to hurt themselves by refusing to buy gas, because of the personal inconvenience. Let’s not repeat history. BUYERS control the marketplace ... not sellers. With the price of gasoline going up (currently between $1.50 and $1.95) and rising daily, consumers need to act. The only way we will see the price of gas come down is if impact the bottom line of the oil sellers and not purchasing THEIR gas!! We can do that WITHOUT inconveniencing ourselves. Since we all rely on gas for our cars, we can’t just stop buying it. We CAN, however, force a price war. Here’s the idea: For the rest of the year (beginning now—just after April 1st), DON’T purchase gasoline from the two biggest companies—EXXON and MOBIL. If they aren’t selling gas, they will be lower the sale price. If they lower the price, other companies will have to follow suit. To have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of Exxon and Mobil gas buyers. It’s simple. The person who started this email message sent this to about thirty people. If each of them send it to 10 more (30 x 10 = 300) and those 300 send it to at 10 more (300 x 10= 3,000) ... and so on, by the time this message reaches the sixth generation of people, we will have reached over 3 MILLION consumers! If those three million get excited and pass this on to ten friends each, then 30 million people will have been contacted! If it goes only one level further, you guessed it ... and THREE HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE! So, please send this to ten people. How long would it take to reach 300 million? If each of us sends this email out to ten more people within one day of receipt, all 300 MILLION people could conceivably be contacted within 8 days of origin. I’ll bet you didn’t think you and I had that much potential, did you? Acting together we can make a difference. If this makes sense to you, please pass this message on. GIVE IT A TRY. If the oil companies lower prices, we all win. Start now by sending this to 10 people and filling up at a non-Exxon, nonMobil station.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Gasoline Company Boycott


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AS WAR! Join the resistance!!!! I hear we are going to hit close to $3 a gallon by the summer. Want gasoline prices to come down? We need to take some intelligent, united action. Phillip Hollsworth, offered this good idea: This makes MUCH MORE SENSE than the “don’t buy gas on a certain day” campaign that was going around last April or May! The oil companies just laughed at that because they knew we wouldn’t continue to “hurt” ourselves by refusing to buy gas. It was more of an inconvenience to us than it was a problem for them. BUT, whoever thought of this idea, has come up with a plan that can really work. Please read it and join with us! By now you’re probably thinking gasoline priced at about $1.50 is super cheap. Me too! It is currently $1.97 for regular unleaded in my town. Now that the oil companies and the OPEC nations have conditioned us to think that the cost of a gallon of gas is CHEAP at $1.50 to $1.75, we need to take aggressive action to teach them that BUYERS control the marketplace ... not sellers. With the price of gasoline going up more each day, we consumers need to take action. The only way we are going to see the price of gas come down is if we hit someone in the pocketbook by not purchasing their gas! And, we can do that WITHOUT hurting ourselves. How? Since we all rely on our cars, we can’t just stop buying gas. But we CAN have an impact on gas prices if we all act together to force a price war. Here’s the idea: For the rest of this year, DON’T purchase ANY gasoline from the two biggest companies (which now are one), EXXON and MOBIL. If they are not selling any gas, they will be inclined to reduce their prices. If they reduce their prices, the other companies will have to follow suit. But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of Exxon and Mobil gas buyers. It’s really simple to do!! Now, don’t wimp out on me at this point ... keep reading and I’ll explain how simple it is to reach millions of people!! I am sending this note to about thirty people. If each of you send it to at least ten more (30 x 10 = 300) ... and those 300 send it to at least ten more (300 x 10 = 3,000) ... and so on, by the time the message reaches the sixth generation of people, we will have reached over THREE MILLION consumers! If those three million get excited and pass this on to ten friends each, then 30 million people will have been contacted!

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If it goes one level further, you guessed it ... THREE HUNDRED MILLION PEOPLE!!! Again, all you have to do is send this to 10 people. That’s all. (If you don’t understand how we can reach 300 million and all you have to do is send this to 10 people ... Well, let’s face it, you just aren’t a mathematician. But I am ... so trust me on this one.) How long would all that take? If each of us sends this email out to ten more people within one day of receipt, all 300 MILLION people could conceivably be contacted within the next 8 days!!! I’ll bet you I didn’t think you and I had that much potential, did you! Acting together we can make a difference. If this makes sense to you, please pass this message on. PLEASE HOLD OUT UNTIL THEY LOWER THEIR PRICES TO THE $1.30 RANGE AND KEEP THEM DOWN. THIS CAN REALLY WORK.

E-MAIL CHARGE Variant A Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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MPORTANT READ!!!!! ... PLEASE FORWARD ASAP!!! Guess the warnings were true !!!!!! Federal Bill 602P 5-cents per E-mail sent. It figures! No more free E-mail! We knew this was coming!! Please read the following carefully if you intend to stay online and continue using E-mail: The last few months have revealed an alarming trend in the government of the United States attempting to quietly push through legislation that will affect your use of the Internet. Under proposed legislation the U.S. Postal Service will be attempting to bilk E-mail users out of “alternate postage fees.”

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Appendix: Cyberspace | E-mail Charge

Bill 602P will permit the Federal Govt. to charge a 5-cent surcharge on every E-mail delivered, by billing Internet Service Providers at source. The consumer would then be billed in turn by the ISP. Washington DC lawyer Richard Stepp is working without pay to prevent this legislation from becoming law. The U.S. Postal Service is claiming that lost revenue due to the proliferation of E-mail is costing nearly $230,000,000 in revenue per year. You may have noticed their recent ad campaign “There is nothing like a letter.” Since the average citizen received about 10 pieces of email per day in 1998, the cost to the typical individual would be an additional 50 cents per day, or over $180 dollars per year, above and beyond their regular Internet costs. Note that this would be money paid directly to the U.S. Postal Service for a service they do not even provide. The whole point of the Internet is democracy and noninterference. If the federal government is permitted to tamper with our liberties by adding a surcharge to E-mail, who knows where it will end. You are already paying an exorbitant price for snail mail because of bureaucratic efficiency. It currently takes up to 6 days for a letter to be delivered from New York to Buffalo. If the U.S. Postal Service is allowed to tinker with email, it will mark the end of the “free” Internet in the United States. One congressman, Tony Schnell (R) has even suggested a “twenty to forty dollar per month surcharge on all Internet service” above and beyond the government’s proposed E-mail charges. Note that most of the major newspapers have ignored the story, the only exception being The Washingtonian which called the idea of E-mail surcharge “a useful concept who’s time has come” (March 6th, 1999, Editorial) Don’t sit by and watch your freedoms erode away! Send this email to all Americans on your list and tell your friends and relatives to write to their congressman and say “No!” to Bill 602P. ——— Assistant to ——— Attorneys at Law


S

ubject: another way the government is trying to take our money... VOTE NO ON Bill 602P!!!! I guess the warnings were true. Federal Bill 602P 5 cents per E-mail sent. It figures! No more free E-mail! We knew this was coming!! Bill 602P

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will permit the Federal Government to charge a 5-cent charge on every delivered E-mail. Please read the following carefully if you intend to stay online, and continue using E-mail. The last few months have revealed an alarming trend in the Government of the United States attempting to quietly push through legislation that will affect our use of the Internet. Under proposed legislation, the U.S. Postal Service will be attempting to bill E-mail users out of “alternative postage fees.” Bill 602P will permit the Federal Government to charge a 5-cent surcharge on every E-mail delivered, by billing Internet Service Providers at source. The consumer would then be billed in turn by the ISP. Washington DC lawyer Richard Stepp is working without pay to prevent this legislation from becoming law. The U.S. Postal Service is claiming lost revenue, due to the proliferation of E-mail, is costing nearly $230,000,000 in revenue per year. You may have noticed their recent ad campaign: “There is nothing like a letter.” Since the average person received about 10 pieces of Email per day in 1998, the cost of the typical individual would be an additional 50 cents a day—or over $180 per year—above and beyond their regular Internet costs. Note that this would be money paid directly to the U.S. Postal Service for a service they do not even provide. The whole point of the Internet is democracy and noninterference. You are already paying an exorbitant price for snail mail because of bureaucratic efficiency. It currently takes up to 6 days for a letter to be delivered from coast to coast. If the U.S. Postal Service is allowed to tinker with E-mail, it will mark the end of the “free” Internet in the United States. Our congressional representative, Tony Schnell (R) has even suggested a “$20–$40 per-month surcharge on all Internet service” above and beyond the governments proposed E-mail charges. Note that most of the major newspapers have ignored the story—the only exception being The Washingtonian —which called the idea of E-mail surcharge “a useful concept who’s time has come” (March 6th, 1999, Editorial). Do not sit by and watch your freedom erode away! Send this to E-mail to EVERYONE on your list, and tell all your friends and relatives write their congressional representative and say “NO” to Bill 602P. It will only take a few moments of your time and could very well be instrumental in killing a bill we do not want. Please forward!

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Neiman Marcus Cookies

NEIMAN MARCUS COOKIES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 1999 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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his a not a joke—this is a true story. My daughter and I had just finished a salad at Neiman Marcus Cafe in Dallas and decided to have a small dessert. Because both of us are cookie lovers, we decided to try the “Neiman Marcus cookie.” It was so excellent that I asked if they would give me the recipe and the waitress said with a small frown, “I’m afraid not but you can buy the recipe. “Well,” I asked, “how much?” She responded, “Only two-fifty, it’s a great deal!” I agreed, just add it to my tab I told her. Thirty days later, I received my VISA statement from Neiman-Marcus and was $285.00. I looked again and I remembered I had only spent $9.95 for two salads and about $20.00 for a scarf. As I glanced at the bottom of the statement, it said “Cookie Recipe—$250.00.” That’s outrageous! I called Neiman’s Accounting Dept. and told them the waitress said “twofifty,” which clearly does not mean “two hundred and fifty dollars” by any *POSSIBLE* interpretation of the phrase. Neiman Marcus refused to budge. They would not refund my money, because according to them, “What the waitress told you is not our problem. You have already seen the recipe. We absolutely will not refund your money at this point.” I explained to her the criminal statues that govern fraud in Texas. I threatened to refer them to the Better Business Bureau and the State’s Attorney General for engaging in fraud. I was basically told, “Do what you want, it doesn’t matter, and we’re not refunding your money.” I waited, thinking of how could get even, or even try and get any of my money back. I just said, “Okay, you folks got my $250.00 and now I’m going to have $250.00 worth of fun.” I told her I was going to see to it that every cookie lover in the United States with an E-mail account has a $250.00 cookie recipe from Neiman –Marcus ... for free. She replied, “I wish you wouldn’t do this.”

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I said, “Well, you should have thought of that before you ripped me off,” and slammed down the phone on her. So here it is!!! Please, Please, Please pass it on to everyone you can possibly think of. I paid $250.00 for this ... I don’t want Neiman-Marcus to *ever* get another penny off of this recipe. Neiman Marcus Cookies (recipe may be halved): 2 CUPS BUTTER 4 CUPS FLOUR 2 TSP. SODA 2 CUPS SUGAR 5 CUPS BLENDED OATMEAL (measure oatmeal and blend in a blender to a fine powder). 24 OZ. CHOCOLATE CHIPS 2 CUPS BROWN SUGAR TSP. SALT 1 8 OZ. HERSHEY BAR (grated) 4 EGGS 2 TSP. BAKING POWDER 2 TSP. VANILLA 3 CUPS CHOPPED NUTS (your choice, but we like pecans best) Cream the butter and both sugars. Add eggs and vanilla; mix together with flour, oatmeal, salt, baking powder, and soda. Add chocolate chips, Hershey Bar, and nuts. Roll into balls and place two inches apart on a cookie sheet. Bake for 10 minutes at 375 degrees. Makes 112 cookies. Have fun!!! This is not a joke—this is a true story. Ride free, citizens!! PLEASE PASS THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW!!!!!!

DEADLY BALL PITS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2003 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Money Talks

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y kids will never play in another ball pit. Now read this: Hi. My name is Lauren Archer. My son Kevin and I lived in Sugarland, Texas. On October 2, 1994, I took my only son to McDonald’s for his 3rd birthday. After he finished lunch, I allowed him to play in the ball pit. When he started crying later, I asked him what was wrong. He pointed to his back and said, “Mommy, it hurts.” I looked, but couldn’t find anything wrong with him at the time. I bathed him when we got home, and it was at that point that I found a welt on his left buttock. Upon investigation, it seemed as if there was a splinter under the welt. I made a doctor appointment for the next day to have it removed. In the meantime, he started vomiting and shaking. Then, his eyes rolled back in his head. We immediately went to the emergency room! My only son died later that night. It turned out that the welt on his buttock was the tip of a hypodermic needle that had broken off in his skin. The autopsy revealed that Kevin had died from a heroin overdose. The next day, the police removed the balls from the ball pit and found rotten food, half-eaten candy, diapers, feces, the stench of urine, and several hypodermic needles.” If you question the validity of this story, you can find the article on Kevin Archer in the October 10, 1994, issue of the Houston Chronicle. Please forward this to all loving mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Note: Some children have also gotten lice from ball pits. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” SEND THIS TO ANYONE YOU KNOW WHO HAS SMALL CHILDREN, NIECES, NEPHEWS, OR GRANDCHILDREN! In addition to the following true story, I will also add that my own sons were playing in the ball pit at Discovery Zone one day. One son lost his watch, and was very upset. We dug and dug in those balls, trying to find the watch. Instead, we found vomit, food, feces, and other stuff I do not want to discuss. I went to the manager and raised heck. Come to find out, the ball pit is only cleaned out once a month. I have doubts that it is even done that often.

MONEY TALKS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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crusty old man walks into a bank and says to the teller at the window, “I want to open a damn checking account.”

To which the astonished woman replies, “I beg your pardon, sir; I must have misunderstood you. What did you say?” “Listen up, damn it. I said I want to open a damn checking account right now!” “I’m very sorry sir, but we do not tolerate that kind of language in this bank.” So saying, the teller leaves the window and goes over to the bank manager to tell him about her situation. They both return and the manager asks the old geezer, “What seems to be the problem here?” “There’s no friggin problem, dammit!” the man says, “I just won $50 million bucks in the damn lottery and I want to open a damn checking account in this damn bank!” “I see,” says the manager, “and this bitch is giving you a hard time?”

TERRORIST HALLOWEEN ATTACKS ON MALLS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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YI—I was very skeptical of this E-mail so I called the telephone number and it really was Laura Katsis at work. She said that she did write and send the E-mail in reaction to what her girlfriend told her. This could still be a hoax, but I am taking it a little more seriously knowing that Laura is a real person who admits writing the E-mail and who stands behind what she wrote. —Elizabeth

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Poisoned Coca-Cola

Hi All— I think you all know that I don’t send out hoaxes and don’t do the reactionary thing and send out anything that crosses my path. This one, however, is a friend of a friend and I’ve given it enough credibility in my mind that I’m writing it up and sending it out to all of you. My friend’s friend was dating a guy from Afghanistan up until a month ago. She had a date with him around 9/6 and was stood up. She was understandably upset and went to his home to find it completely emptied. On 9/10, she received a letter from her boyfriend explaining that he wished he could tell her why he had left and that he was sorry it had to be like that. The part worth mentioning is that he BEGGED her not to get on any commercial airlines on 9/11 and to not to go any malls on Halloween. As soon as everything happened on the 11th, she called the FBI and has since turned over the letter. This is not an E-mail that I’ve received and decided to pass on. This came from a phone conversation with a long-time friend of mine last night. I may be wrong, and I hope I am. However, with one of his warnings being correct and devastating, I’m not willing to take the chance on the second and wanted to make sure that people I cared about had the same information that I did.

POISONED COCA-COLA Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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HIS IS A CATEGORY-ONE ALERT FROM CNN. CNN has learned from government sources that the Coca-Cola factories that supply the United States of America and our friends in the United Kingdom have been infiltrated by Al Qaeda terrorists. Traces of arsenic and anthrax have been found in one out of every five cans of Coke tested. Reports have been sent out to all major networks and newspapers to put out a “Red Alert Category One,” warning all drinkers of Coke to make their way to the nearest hospital for a check-up.

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If you have drunk or bought Coca-Cola on or after the 25th of March 2005 then do not panic, just inform your nearest medical center and make your way there as soon as possible. In the best interests of the U.S.A. and our friends in the UK could you forward this mail to all Coke drinkers you know, we will be posting more updates as they come in. Regards, ——— http://www.CNN.com/

BOYCOTT DUNKIN’ DONUTS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ttention all Americans: Boycott Dunkin’ Donuts!! In Cedar Grove, NJ, a customer saw the owner of a Dunkin’ Donuts store burn the U.S. flag. In another Dunkin’ Donuts store in Little Falls, a customer saw a U.S. flag on the floor with Arabic writing all over it. In Wayne, NJ, the employees of Arabic background were cheering behind the counter when the heard about the attacks. A customer threw his coffee at them and phoned the police. We are starting a nationwide boycott of all Dunkin’ Donuts. Please make sure this gets passed on to all fellow Americans during this time of tragedy. We Americans need to stick together and make these horrible people understand what country they are living in and how good they used to have it when we supported them. Numerous fast-food companies are at Ground Zero, giving away free food to volunteers. Where is Dunkin’ Donuts in all of this? Boycott Dunkin’ Donuts! Pass it on.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Citibank Boycott

7–ELEVEN TERRORISM Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2002 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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veryone knows the terrorists are around and planning something big. What the FBI and CIA won’t tell us is that there is a MAJOR conspiracy afoot which could affect us all here in the USA, THIS WEEK! Everyone knows the 7–Eleven convenience store chain. They are EVERYWHERE, in every city and small town in the USA. In large metropolitan areas, they are sometimes only a few blocks apart. Anyone who has shopped in a 7–Eleven knows that they are owned predominantly by people of MiddleEastern origin; in fact, the parent company of the franchise (7–Eleven Limited Partnership) is owned by a group with ties to Osama bin Laden. On July 11th (7/11), every single 7–Eleven store has been instructed to unleash attacks on their surrounding neighborhoods. This includes blowing up the stores themselves, possibly using “dirty” nuclear bombs as well as conventional explosives, as well as outright assaults on the American people. This will cause a major disruption in ALL major American cities. If you live near a 7–Eleven, please be aware of this danger. You are urged to boycott all 7–Eleven stores on 7/11 to keep yourself and your families safe from the terrorists. You WILL read about this on 7/12 so please be forewarned.

CITIBANK BOYCOTT Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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his came as a forward, so I don’t have the number of the lady who sent this out first. The 800 number is there though.

My mother in law received a letter from a credit card company that stated Osama Bin Laden was a principal owner of Citibank. My husband called the credit card company to check the validity of the letter. Then he called Citibank (1-800-—-—). They confirmed that Osama Bin Laden is a principal owner, not a stockholder, but a principal owner. Then they said they couldn’t discuss anything else. For any of you that have a Citibank credit card ... DON’T USE IT! Osama is counting on our money. I have a Citibank Choice Card and I used it primarily for my household purchases. But I won’t any more. I never would have thought that my purchases would put money into a terrorists pockets.... Call the 800 number above and verify this for yourself ... Those of you who know me, call me and I will relay this same story to you!!!!!! Pass this on so we can freeze the flow of money to this terrorist.

AMERICAN WOMEN VS. THE TALIBAN Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2001 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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ake all American women who are within five years of menopause— train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons, grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate, and canned tuna—drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally. Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble. We’ve had our children, we would gladly suffer or die to protect them and their future. We’d like to get away from our husbands, if they haven’t left already. And for those of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share life is about as likely as being struck by lightning.

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Guantanamo Bay Detainees

We have nothing to lose. We’ve survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet, and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain of Afghanistan with no food at all! We’ve spent years tracking down our husbands or lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events ... finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem. Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a new government? Oh, please ... we’ve planned the seating arrangements for in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years ... we understand tribal warfare. Between us, we’ve divorced enough husbands to know every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know how to seize it ... with or without the government’s help! Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women. Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes over their godforsaken terrain.

GUANTANAMO BAY DETAINEES Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

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person wrote a letter to the White House complaining about the treatment of a captive taken during the Afghanistan war. Here is a copy of a letter they received back: The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue Washington, DC 20016 Dear Concerned Citizen: Thank you for your recent letter roundly criticizing our treatment of the Taliban and Al Qaeda detainees currently being held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Our administration takes these matters seriously, and your opinion was heard loud and clear here in Washington. You’ll be pleased to learn that, thanks to the concerns of citizens like you, we are creating a new division of the Terrorist

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Retraining Program, to be called the “Liberals Accept Responsibility for Killers” program, or LARK for short. In accordance with the guidelines of this new program, we have decided to place one terrorist under your personal care. Your personal detainee has been selected and scheduled for transportation under heavily armed guard to your residence next Monday. Ali Mohammed Ahmed bin Mahmud (you can just call him Ahmed) is to be cared for pursuant to the standards you personally demanded in your letter of admonishment. It will likely be necessary for you to hire some assistant caretakers. We will conduct weekly inspections to ensure that your standards of care for Ahmed are commensurate with those you so strongly recommended in your letter. Although Ahmed is sociopathic and extremely violent, we hope that your sensitivity to what you described as his “attitudinal problem” will help him overcome these character flaws. Perhaps you are correct in describing these problems as mere cultural differences. He will bite you, given the chance. We understand that you plan to offer counseling and home schooling. Your adopted terrorist is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand combat and can extinguish human life with such simple items as a pencil or nail clippers. We do not suggest that you ask him to demonstrate these skills at your next yoga group. He is also expert at making a wide variety of explosive devices from common household products, so you may wish to keep those items locked up, unless (in your opinion) this might offend him. Ahmed will not wish to interact with your wife or daughters (except sexually) since he views females as a subhuman form of property. This is a particularly sensitive subject for him, and he has been known to show violent tendencies around women who fail to comply with the new dress code that Ahmed will recommend as more appropriate attire. I’m sure they will come to enjoy the anonymity offered by the burka—over time. Just remind them that it is all part of “respecting his culture and his religious beliefs”—wasn’t that how you put it? Thanks again for your letter. We truly appreciate it when folks like you, who know so much, keep us informed of the proper way to do our job. You take good care of Ahmed—and remember ... we’ll be watching. Good luck! Cordially ... Your Buddy, Don Rumsfeld

ALLIGATORS IN THE TOILET Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward

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D

on’t go to the bathroom on October 28th! CIA intelligence reports that a major plot is planned for that day. Anyone who sits on a toilet on the 28th will be bitten on the butt by an alligator. Reports indicate that organized groups of alligators are planning to rise up into unsuspecting Americans’ toilet bowls and bite them when they are doing their business. I usually don’t send E-mails like this, but I got this information from a reliable source. It came from a friend of a friend whose cousin is dating this girl whose brother knows this guy whose wife knows this lady whose husband buys hotdogs from this guy who knows a shoeshine guy who shines the shoes of a mailroom worker who has a friend who’s drug dealer sells drugs to another mailroom worker who works in the CIA building. He apparently overheard two guys talking in the bathroom about alligators and came to the conclusion that we’re going to be attacked. So it must be true.

KATRINA BLUNDERS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

T

he politicians are trying to pass the buck again. Check this out. On Friday night before the storm hit Max Mayfield of the National Hurricane Center took the unprecedented action of calling Nagin and Blanco personally to plead with them to begin MANDATORY evacuation of NO and they said they’d take it under consideration. This was after the NOAA buoy 240 miles south had recorded 68-foot waves before it was destroyed. President Bush spent Friday afternoon and evening in meetings with his advisors and administrators drafting all of the paperwork required for a state to

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request federal assistance (and not be in violation of the Posse Comitatus Act or having to enact the Insurgency Act). Just before midnight Friday evening the President called Governor Blanco and pleaded with her to sign the request papers so the federal government and the military could legally begin mobilization and call up. He was told that they didn’t think it necessary for the federal government to be involved yet. After the President’s final call to the governor she held meetings with her staff to discuss the political ramifications of bringing federal forces. It was decided that if they allowed federal assistance it would make it look as if they had failed so it was agreed upon that the feds would not be invited in. Saturday before the storm hit the President again called Blanco and Nagin requesting they please sign the papers requesting federal assistance, that they declare the state an emergency area, and begin mandatory evacuation. After a personal plea from the President Nagin agreed to order an evacuation, but it would not be a full mandatory evacuation, and the governor still refused to sign the papers requesting and authorizing federal action. In frustration the President declared the area a national disaster area before the state of Louisiana did so he could legally begin some advanced preparations. Rumor has it that the President’s legal advisers were looking into the ramifications of using the insurgency act to bypass the constitutional requirement that a state request federal aid before the federal government can move into state with troops—but that had not been done since 1906 and the constitutionality of it was called into question to use before the disaster. Throw in that over half the federal aid of the past decade to NO for levee construction, maintenance, and repair was diverted to fund a marina and support the gambling ships. Toss in the investigation that will look into why the emergency preparedness plan submitted to the federal government for funding and published on the city’s web site was never implemented and in fact may have been bogus for the purpose of gaining additional federal funding as we now learn that the organizations identified in the plan were never contacted or coordinating into any planning—though the document implies that they were. The suffering people of NO need to be asking some hard questions as do we all, but they better start with why Blanco refused to even sign the multistate mutual aid pack activation documents until Wednesday, which further delayed the legal deployment of National Guard from adjoining states. Or maybe ask why Nagin keeps harping that the President should have commandeered 500 Greyhound busses to help him when according to his own emergency plan and documents he claimed to have over 500

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Appendix: Cyberspace | Debit Card Abuse by Katrina Victims

busses at his disposal to use between the local school busses and the city transportation busses—but he never raised a finger to prepare them or activate them. This is a sad time for all of us to see that a major city has all but been destroyed and thousands of people have died with hundreds of thousands more suffering, but it’s certainly not a time for people to be pointing fingers and trying to find a bigger dog to blame for local corruption and incompetence. Pray to God for the survivors that they can start their lives anew as fast as possible and we learn from all the mistakes to avoid them in the future.

DEBIT CARD ABUSE BY KATRINA VICTIMS Tradition Bearer: Unavailable Source: E-mail Forward Date: 2005 Original Source: E-mail National Origin: Unavailable

K

ATRINA VICTIMS? Yesterday, I was shopping for my mother in Dillard’s at Lakeline Mall in Austin, TX. I admired a suit, but it was too expensive for me to purchase. You can imagine my shock when I witness the suit being purchased by a Katrina “refugee” using the government-issued debit card!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought certainly there must be controls on these debit cards that would preclude recipients from using the money to purchase items other taxpayers cannot afford, but I was mistaken. I heard the sales clerk call the Dillard’s business office and confirm that the “American Red Cross Debit Card” could be used for the woman’s purchase. After the transaction was completed, I asked the sales clerk to confirm this and she did. Now, when these debit cards that we the taxpayers provided are used up, what will happen? Will you give them even more of our money to purchase items the taxpayers cannot afford? I already know the answer. Based on the social welfare system that exists in our country, you will just give them more money. This system does not pass the “is this right?” test. You have hard-working, tax-paying citizens who worry every month whether they’ll make it financially. And, you

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take their earnings and “ redistribute” it to others who do not work but wear better clothes, drive newer cars and have manicures, cell phones, and designer handbags. Yeah, if you’d just send me one of those debit cards, I could buy my mother that nice suit. I have copied everyone in my address book. I am asking them to send this to everyone in their address books. This is the reality of our social welfare system. It must stop.

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Bibliography to Volume IV

Alaska Judicial Council. “Resolving Disputes Locally: A Statewide Report and Directory.” Alaska Judicial Council. 9 December 2005. http://www.ajc.state.ak.us/index.htm. Balilci, Asen. The Netsilik Eskimo. Garden City, NY: Natural History Press, 1970. Banister, Manly Andrew C. “Interview of James E. Twadell.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Boas, Franz. Chinook Texts. Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 20. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1894. ———. “Notes on the Eskimo of Port Clarence, Alaska.” Journal of American Folklore 7 (1894): 205–8. ———. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út I.” Journal of American Folklore 9 (1896): 257–68. ———. “Traditions of the Ts’ets’a¯út II.” Journal of American Folklore 10 (1897): 35–48. Burrows, Elizabeth. “Eskimo Tales.” Journal of American Folklore 39 (1926): 79–81. Chance, Norman A. The Eskimo of North Alaska. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1966. Deans, James. “The Doom of the Katt-a-quins: From the Aboriginal Folk-lore of Southern Alaska.” Journal of American Folklore 5 (1892): 232–35.


Farrand, Livingston, and Leo J. Frachtenberg. “Shasta and Athapascan Myths from Oregon.” Journal of American Folklore 28 (1915): 207–42. Frachtenberg, Leo J. Coos Texts. Columbia University Contributions to Anthropology 1. New York: Columbia University Press, 1913. ———. “Myths of the Alsea Indians of Northwestern Oregon.” International Journal of American Linguistics 1 (1917): 64–75. Gatschet, Albert S. “Oregonian Folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 4 (1891): 139–43. Golder, F. A. “Aleutian Stories.” Journal of American Folklore 18 (1905): 215–22. Haight, Willliam C. “Interview of Charles Imus.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 14 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Kamenskii, Annatolii. Tlingit Indians of Alaska. Translated and with an introduction and supplementary material by Sergei Kan. Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 1985. Kroeber, A. L. “Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo.” Journal of American Folklore 12 (1899): 166–82. Oswalt, Wendell H. Bashful No Longer: An Alaskan Eskimo Ethnohistory 1778–1988. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1990. Powers, Stephen. “North American Indian Legends and Fables.” Folk-Lore Record 5 (1882): 93–143. Reprinted from Contributions to North American Ethnology. Vol. 3, Tribes of California. Edited by Stephen Powers. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Geographical and Geological Survey Rocky Mountain Region, 1877. Rink, H., and Franz Boas. “Eskimo Tales and Songs.” Journal of American Folklore 2 (1889): 123–31. Sherbert, Andrew C. “Interview of George Estes.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. ———. “Interview of William Harry Hembree.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Suttles, Wayne, ed. Handbook of the North American Indians. Vol. 7, Northwest Coast. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution, 1990.

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Bibliography | Volume IV

Walden, Wayne. “Interview of Fred Roys.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html. Wrenn, Sarah B. “Interview of Jane Lee Smith.” American Life Histories: Manuscripts from the Federal Writers’ Project, 1936–1940. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 12 October 2005. http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/wpahome.html.

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About the Editor

T


The Greenwood Library of American Folktales 4 volumes

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections Four Volumes

Books and Beyond 4 volumes : The Greenwood Encyclopedia of New American Reading

Encyclopedia of American Race Riots Two Volumes 2 volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Latino Literature Three Volumes 3 volumes

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 2: Asia

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 3, Europe

Encyclopedia of the Reconstruction Era [Two Volumes] [2 volumes]: Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Folktales and Fairy Tales

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 4, North and South America

History Of Science 4 Volumes

Gale Library of Daily Life: American Civil War, 2 volumes

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Asian American Literature

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Asian American Literature

Encyclopedia of African American Popular Culture 4 volumes

Encyclopedia of Contemporary American Social Issues (4 volumes)

Encyclopedia of American Race Riots [Two Volumes]: Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Children's Issues Worldwide 6 volumes

Native American Folktales (Stories from the American Mosaic)

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Daily Life in America,Volumes 1-4

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of LGBT Issues Worldwide 3 volumes

Italian Folktales

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 1: Africa, The Middle East, Australia, and Oceania

Icons of the American West 2 volumes : From Cowgirls to Silicon Valley (Greenwood Icons)

Encyclopedia of the Reconstruction Era Two Volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History

Literary History of Persia, 4 volumes

The Pacific Region: The Greenwood Encyclopedia of American Regional Cultures

Folktales from the Moose of Burkina Faso

Encyclopedia of African American Music 3 volumes

The Jim Crow Encyclopedia Two Volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History (Milestones in Business History)

The Greenwood Library of American Folktales 4 volumes

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections Four Volumes

Books and Beyond 4 volumes : The Greenwood Encyclopedia of New American Reading

Encyclopedia of American Race Riots Two Volumes 2 volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Latino Literature Three Volumes 3 volumes

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 2: Asia

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 3, Europe

Encyclopedia of the Reconstruction Era [Two Volumes] [2 volumes]: Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Folktales and Fairy Tales

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 4, North and South America

History Of Science 4 Volumes

Gale Library of Daily Life: American Civil War, 2 volumes

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Asian American Literature

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Asian American Literature

Encyclopedia of African American Popular Culture 4 volumes

Encyclopedia of Contemporary American Social Issues (4 volumes)

Encyclopedia of American Race Riots [Two Volumes]: Greenwood Milestones in African American History

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Children's Issues Worldwide 6 volumes

Native American Folktales (Stories from the American Mosaic)

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Daily Life in America,Volumes 1-4

The Greenwood Encyclopedia of LGBT Issues Worldwide 3 volumes

Italian Folktales

The Greenwood Library of World Folktales: Stories from the Great Collections, Volume 1: Africa, The Middle East, Australia, and Oceania

Icons of the American West 2 volumes : From Cowgirls to Silicon Valley (Greenwood Icons)

Encyclopedia of the Reconstruction Era Two Volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History

Literary History of Persia, 4 volumes

The Pacific Region: The Greenwood Encyclopedia of American Regional Cultures

Folktales from the Moose of Burkina Faso

Encyclopedia of African American Music 3 volumes

The Jim Crow Encyclopedia Two Volumes : Greenwood Milestones in African American History (Milestones in Business History)

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