So said Páutiwa, cloud-sender and sun-priest of souls, and his brothers younger of the regions all, joined in so saying.
Then K‘yäk´lu sat him down and bowed his head, and calling to the Duck, who had guided him, stretched forth his hand and upon it she settled, as upon a wave-crest or a wood bough.
The gods sent forth their runners, the Sálamopia and the timid, fleet-footed Héhea, to summon all beings, and then, gathering themselves in a sacred song-circle, called in from the several chambers dancers in semblance of the Kâ´kokshi, or Dance of Good. And with these came, behold! the little ones who had sunk beneath the waters, well and beautiful and all seeming wonderfully clad in cotton mantles and precious neck jewels. And these played, sad only with the sadness of their mothers, but resting therefrom when in dreams, above, these rested.
And when the dancers paused, the gods turned to K‘yäk´lu and said: "Lo! we begin, given thou be ready."
And K‘yäk´lu said: "It is well; I am ready; yea, even my heart listeneth," and in cadence to their speech following, he moved the Duck with her tinkling, talking shells, as a master of song moves his baton, or a dancer his rattle, and in solemn, ceaseless tone, as in singing yet with speech more steady, the gods, one by one, told to K‘yäk´lu the things each best knew, whereof he so wondrously speaks when come amongst us for the welfare of our little children, bringing them the sacred breath of the Kâ´kâ itself, and to their elders these same speeches of the gods.
When, after long time, they had done, they further charged him with a message of comfort to the mourning mothers, and with commandments and instructions to men and the beings.
Then they brought forth the sacred cigarette, and the master priest-gods smoked in relationship with K‘yäk´lu to all the six regions, and, rising, he was led in turn to the portal of each chamber, first to the northern, then to the western, southern, eastern, upper, and lower, and he placed his fingers on the sill of each, that in aftertimes he should know, though but dim of sight, or in the dark, the places of worship (which men built then but poorly) from others, and in such alone, and to chosen few who hold the rites of the Kâ´kâ, should therein tell and do the customs and words of the gods and tell of other such like precious ancient things.
Then the Sálamopia lifted the ladder and guided upward K‘yäk´lu and the Duck, showing them safely to the shore of the lake. When the old ones (Kâ´yemäshi) heard the shells of the Duck tinkling, forth they came, bringing their litter and singing boisterously, for much they loved K‘yäk´lu as the light of the rising sun fell upon him, as a raven loves bright shells or chips of glistening stone.
And when they had come to the side of K‘yäk´lu, instant they became grave, for he bade them hearken to the words of the gods, and their instructions.
"Ye shall attend me, for know that ye are to be the guardians of the Kâ´kâ and tellers of its meanings, and givers of enjoyment to the children of men, even as ye gave the enjoyment of comfort unto me, when ye sought me in the plain of my sorrows. Ye shall bear me to the people yonder, for I have tidings for them, and instructions the to which ye shall bear witness in aftertimes when I am not by. Ye shall cherish the Kâ´kâ; yea, and all other precious customs, for thereunto as unto life mortal, yet unceasing, became fitted thy father, my brother younger; and thereunto were ye born, ye and thy sister elder, man-woman of the Kâ´kâ, as unto the councils thereof am I become slave yet master. But my sister, thy mother, shall abide by the place she hath made, maintaining it, as woman ever maintaineth the hearth she hath made, all the days of men."
This said K‘yäk´lu as he sat him down on the litter, and obediently the Kâ´yemäshi lifted it upon their shoulders and bore it away, along the trail eastward, down which westward we go after death and fulfilment. And as they journeyed through the plain, calling loudly to one another, the little people of the Marmot villages ran out and stood up, looking at them and calling to one another, which so amused and pleased the Kâ´yemäshi that they became proud of their master and uncle, K‘yäk´lu, and sang all the way thereafter of the audience they had at every prairie-dog village, of Marmot youths and Marmot maidens; and thus they were singing gleefully as they neared the camp of the people, insomuch that none were frightened, but all wondered who were those pleasant, strange people coming, and what one of precious consideration guided of the far-journeying Duck they were bearing aloft on their litter. Thus, ever since, they sing, as they bring in K‘yäk´lu from the western plain, along the river-trail of the dead, and thus happily and expectantly we await their coming, our little ones wonderingly as did the first men of those days.
Speedily the fathers of the people recognized their lost K‘yäk´lu (led and prompted as they were of the Twain), and preciously they housed him, as we preciously and secretly receive with the cigarette of relationship a returning relative, and purify him and ourselves ere he speak, that he may not bring evil or we receive it, perchance, with the breath of his strange words.
Thus the fathers of the people did to K‘yäk´lu and the ancient ones, receiving them into secret council. And as one who returns famished is not given to eat save sparingly at first of the flour of drink (ók‘yäslu), so with this only was K‘yäk´lu regaled; but his bearers were laden speedily with gifts of food and garments which, forsooth, they would not wear save in disorderly ways. Then K‘yäk´lu spake a message of comfort to the mourners, telling them how, below the waters into which their little ones had sunken, they were dwelling in peace amongst the gods, and how all men and mothers would follow them thither in other part in the fulness of each one's time.
And then, holding in his hand the Duck, the guide to his blindness, he spake in measured motion and tone, to the sound of the shells on the neck of the Duck, the words of creation, K‘yäk´lu Mósonan Chïm´mik‘yanak‘ya pénane, and of his wanderings, and the speeches of gods and beings as they had been told him, and the directions of the sacred customs, all did he tell ceaselessly as is still his wont from mid-day to mid-day to each one of the six councils, that no part be forgotten.
Thus did our people first learn of their lost messengers, all save two of them, Ánahoho áchi, and of their lost children in the City of Ghosts; yea, of the spirit beings and man, animal, and of the souls of ancient men dead beforetime; yea, and yet more learned they—that all would gather there even those who had fled away in fear of the waters, in the fulness of time.
And when K‘yäk´lu had done speaking, he and the ancient ones breathed into the nostrils of those who had listened, and into the mouths of four chosen from amongst them (small of stature like as he was) he spat, that their tongues might speak unfailingly the words he had uttered. And these became the K‘yäk´lu Ámosi, whose office we still keep amongst us. Then the ancient ones lifted him upon the litter, and loudly joking about their gifts and bidding men call them ever with the Kâ´kâ that they might receive more háha, they sang of how the young women and maidens would wait for them as for lovers, bringing them the water of guests to drink, and amid laughter they bore K‘yäk´lu back whence they had come, to the mountain and city of the Kâ´kâ (Kâ´‘hluai yálane).
Now, when they had departed, there came from the west, behold! two strangers seeming, guided by the Sálamopia, and all the fleet runners of the Kâ´kâ then first seen of men and feared as by children now, for they were fierce and scourged people from their pathways to make room for those they guided. For know that these were the two brothers Ánahoho who had returned to the desolate cities of their people. Therein had they sought in vain for the living in the blackened houses. They even tore down the chimneys and peered in, seeking for their brother K‘yäk´lu, and when they found him not they smote their faces and held their noses in grief, and all black as were their hands with soot, lo! thus became their faces, flat and masked with the black hand-mark of dismay, and as they held their faces they cried dismally and long.
No sooner did they come into the village of our fathers than they began turning over the things from which the people had fled, and casting them down where the Sálamopia stamped them into the earth or otherwise destroyed them that their likes might go the way of the dead for the dead and the Kâ´kâ. And when the people saw this, they brought forth vessels and baskets and other things without stint, all of which, as though all were chimneys, the Twain Ánahoho took up, and peering into them lifted their faces and cried their dreary mournful cry, casting these things straightway to the ground. Thus to this day they follow their brother, seeking ever, finding never, sending after their brother the souls of men's possessions that all may be well in the after time, in the after time of each age of man.
Long sojourned the people in the town on the sunrise slope of the mountain of Kâ´‘hluëlawan, and what though the earth in time began to groan warningly anew, loath were they to leave the place of the Kâ´kâ and the lake of their dead. But the rumbling grew louder apace, and at last the Twain Beloved called, and bade the people arise, and all together—now that their multitudes were in part diminished—follow them eastward, seeking once more the place of the Middle. Not without murmuring among themselves did the people obey; but after they had fared forward a certain distance they came to a place of fair seeming and great promise, so much so, indeed, that it was said, "Let us tarry in this favored spot, for perchance it may be the place of the Middle."
And so they builded for themselves there greater houses than ever they had builded, and more perfect withal, for they were still great and strong in numbers and wittier than of old, albeit yet unperfected as men; and the place wherein they so builded was Hán‘hlipíŋk‘ya, "The Place of Sacred Stealing," so named in after time for reasons we wot of.
Long did the people abide therein, prosperously; but with waxing ever wiser and stronger their condition changed, so that little suited to it—with their tails and beast clothing—were our wonderful, magical, yet rude, ugly fathers. Being beast-like, they were sore inconvenienced both at home and abroad, in the chase or at war; for now and again they still in their wanderings met older nations of men and man-beings, with whom they needs must strive, so they thought, forsooth, thereby gaining naught save great danger with increase of anger and stubbornness. Thus, not any longer in fear only of the gods and great monsters, but in fear now of the wars they themselves provoked, contending the world with their own kind and with man-beings, changed yet otherwise were they. Of the elders of all their folk-kins the gods therefore called a council.
"Changed, verily and yet more changed shall ye be, oh our children!" cried the Twain gods in such fashion and voice that none failed of heeding in all that great council:
Thereafter more and more goodly of favor became the people, for they dwelt long in Hán‘hlipíŋk‘ya, where, lo! that this might be so, their useless parts had in sacred theft been stolen, as it were, from them, and they gained great strength, and in the fulness thereof they sought more often than ever to war with all strangers (whereby they became still more changed in spirit), the which the Two Beloved watched amain, nor said they aught!
But there came a day when the people grew vain and waxed insolent, saying, "Look now, we are perfect of parts and surely have attained to the Middle place or unto one equal thereunto. Go to, let us build greatly and lay up store, nor wearily wander again even though the earth tremble and the Twain bid us forth. Think ye we shall not be strong and defy even the Fearful?" cried the Men of the Knife, the stout warriors of the Twain. But what of all that? This! Even whilst they were wont to speak in this brave fashion the mountains trembled often, and although afar sounding, much did it abate these boastings!
Well aware of this temper of the people, changed also in spirit became the Twain Beloved. "Verily a time hath come," said they, "and this is the time." Forthwith they called the fathers to council again, as many of them as there were of the Midmost and of all the folk kins, they and the Men of the Knife—brave of mouth yet weak of danger—called they together, and thus spake unto them:
Then the Twain gave directions:
Lo! dwarfed and hideous-disguised were the two gods Áhaiyuta and Mátsailema, erst Uanamachi Píahkoa or the Beloved Twain who Descended—strong now with the full strength of evil; and armed as warriors of old, with long bows and black stone-tipped arrows of cane-wood in quivers of long-tailed skins of catamounts; whizzing slings, and death-singing slung-stones in fiber-pockets; spears with dart dealing fling-slats, and blood-drinking broad-knives of gray stone in fore-pouches of fur-skin; short face-pulping war-clubs stuck aslant in their girdles, and on their backs targets of cotton close plaited with yucca. Yea, and on their trunks, were casings of scorched rawhide, horn-like in hardness, and on their heads wore they helmets of strength like to the thick neck-hide of male elks, whereof they were fashioned.
Lo! and of Chance and Fate were they the Masters of fore-deeming; for they carried the word-painted arrows of destiny (shóliweátsinapa), like the regions of men, four in number. And they carried the shuttle-cocks of divination (hápochiwe), like the regions of men, four in number. And they carried the tubes of hidden things (íyankolotómawe), like the regions of men, four in number. And the revealing-balls thereof, (íyankolote tsemak‘ya móliwe), like the regions of men, four in number. Yea, and they bore with these other things—the feather-bow and plume-arrow of far-finding, tipped with the shell of heart-searching; and the race-sticks of swift journeys and way-winning (mótikwawe) two of them, the right and the left, the pursuer and the pursued of men in contention. All of these things wherewith to divine men's chance, and play games of hazard, wagering the fate of whole nations in mere pastime, had they with them.
Twain Children of terror and magic were they, and when they called with the voice of destruction the smitten warriors of these Twain Children stirred and uprose, breathing battle-cries as echoes answer cries in deep canyons, and swiftly they roused those who still lived, of the deep-slumbering people.
Some, like the drummer and singers, had stiffened been, to stone; nor heard they the shrill death-cries than which in the night time naught is more dread-thrilling. Nay, years come and go, and sitting or lying where stricken the hunter sees them still. But others had endured in flesh, and they were awakened. Then the priests led them back to rebuild their wrecked houses, and the Twain again assembling their warriors, said to them—
Night after night the war-drum sounded, deep in the caves of the valley, and with it the tones of the words—all potent—forbidden and secret which the Twain gods were teaching unto the first Priests of the Bow.
Thus wise were the Priests of the Bow established by teaching of the Twain, whose breaths of destruction each one of them breathed in due part; whom none might gainsay; nay, not even the fathers whose speakers they were, and with whom none might contend; nay, not even sorcerers, whose scourgers they were—nor yet the Fearful!
And so, when on a dark night thereafter the world groaned and the shells sounded warning, all together the Twain and these their new warriors sought the priest-fathers of the people, bidding them take in hand for carrying, their tabernacles of precious possessions. And swiftly and sternly too they wakened all sleepers, old ones and young, and those who obeyed them were gathered in clan-lines and led off to safety, for Áhaiyuta, the elder, and his warriors journeyed before them, and Mátsailema, the younger, and his warriors followed behind—shields of the people, makers and destroyers of pathways! But those who loved sleeping or who murmured like children were left to their evil; they were choked by the black fumes, or buried in the walls of their houses, which fell when presently the earth heaved with dire fumes, fire and thunder. Their bones are still digged by the gopher and marmot.
Thus, from country to country journeyed the people, their fathers the priests and the keepers of the mysteries, with the women and children in their midst, while before them, from valley to valley, the Bow-priests swept danger away.
At last the people neared, in the midst of plains to the eastward, great towns built in the heights (héshotayálawa). But in these times the thoughts of their warriors were always those of the eagle or mountain-lion or other fierce creatures of prey. Of those they met it was "Lo, now! If I can but seize him and utterly overthrow him and eat of his substance, feeding therewith also my kind!" Thus, only, thought they.
Great were the fields and possessions of this people, for they knew how to command and carry the waters, bringing new soil; and this too without hail or rain. So, our ancients, hungry with long wandering for new food, were the more greedy, and gave them battle. Now as these people of the highlands and cliffs were of the elder nations of men and were allied to the Ákâkâ-kwe (the Man-soul Dance-gods) themselves, these our people, ere they had done, were well nigh finished of fighting. For it was here that the K‘yákweina Ók‘yätsiki, or Ancient Woman of the K‘yákweina, who carried her heart in her rattle and was deathless of wounds in the body, led the enemy, crying out shrilly; all of which, yea and more, beyond the words of a sitting, is told in other speeches of our ancient talks, those of the Kâ´kâ. Thus, it fell out ill for the fighting of our impetuous ancients; for, moreover, thunder raged and confused their warriors, rain descended and blinded them, stretching their bow-strings of sinew, and quenching the flight of their arrows as the flight of bees is quenched by the sprinkling-plume of the honey hunter. But the strong ‘Hléetokwe devised bow-strings of yucca, and the Two Little Ones sought counsel of the Sun-father, who revealed the life-secret of the Demoness and the magic power over the under-fires (kóline) of the dwellers in the mountains and cliffs; so that after certain days the enemy in the mountain town were overmastered. And because our people found in that great town some survivors hidden deep in the cellars thereof, and plucked them forth as rats are pulled from a hollow cedar, and found them blackened by the fumes of their own war-magic, yet comely and wiser than the common lot of men withal, they spared them and called them the Kwínikwa-kwe (Black people), and received them into their kin of the Black Corn.
Now for once even the Warriors of the Bow were fully surfeited of fighting, and paused to rest. Thus, warm hands of brothers elder and younger were clasped with the vanquished; and in time (for at first these people were wild of tongue) speech was held with them, whereby our fathers gained much knowledge, even of their own powers and possessions, from these Black people, in like manner as they had gained knowledge from the People of the Dew, whence in like manner also they grew wiser in the ways of living, and loved more to cherish their corn and corn virgins that they might have life and abundance rather than cause death and hunger. Yet were their journeyings not ended. Again, and anon, the shell sounded warning.
When, therefore, the Twain Little Ones, Áhaiyuta and Mátsailema, again bade the people arise to seek the Middle, they divided them into great companies, that they might fare the better (being fewer in numbers together) as well as be the better content with thinking that, thus scattered, they would the sooner find the place they had for so long sought. So, again the Winter people were bidden to go northward, that in their strength they might overcome evils and obstacles and with their bows strung with slackless fiber of the yucca, contend, winning their way with the enemy in cold weather or warm, and in rain and dryness alike. With them, as aforetime, they carried their precious múetone, and with them journeyed Mátsailema and the Warriors of the Knife, they and chosen Priests of the Bow.
Also, to the southward, as before, journeyed the Seed people and the kinties of Corn and others of the Summer people, they and with them the Black people, wise and possessed of the magic of the under-fire, having dealings also with Kâ´kâ-kwe and with the wonderful Chúa-kwe—a people like themselves, of corn, and called therefore People of Corn grains,—they and their Kâ´kâ, the K‘yámak‘ya-kwe, or Snail Beings of the South (those who waged war with men and their Kâ´kâ in after times), for these reasons they, the Summer people, led the people of Corn and Seed and these alien people.
And as before, the people of the Middle—yea, and those of the Seed and Dew who especially cherished the chúetone and the Maidens of Corn—sought the Middle through the midmost way, led of Áhaiyuta, the elder, and his Priests of the Bow.
The People of Winter, those led by the ‘Hléeto-kwe, and Mátsailema, fought their way fiercely into the valley of the Snow-water river (Úk‘yawane—Rio Puerco del Poniente), settling first at the mud-issuing springs of that valley (Hékwainaukwin), where their villages may be seen in mounds to this day, and the marks of the rites of their fathers and of their kin-names on the rocks thereabout.
And they became far wanderers toward the north, building towns wheresoever they paused, some high among the cliffs, others in the plains. And how they reached at last the "Sacred City of the Mists Enfolded" (Shípapulima, at the Hot Springs in Colorado), the Middle of the world of Sacred Brotherhoods (Tík‘yaawa Ítiwana), and were taught of Póshaiyaŋk‘ya ere he descended again; and how they returned also, thus building everywhere they tarried, along the River of Great Water-flowing, (Rio Grande del Norte) even back to the mountains of Zuñiland (Shíwina yálawan) and settled finally at the Place of Planting (Tâ´iya or Las Nutrias)—all this and more is told in the speeches they themselves hold of our ancient discourse.
The people of Corn and the Seeds, guided by the Kwínikwakwe, fared for long peacefully, southward along the valley of the River of Red Flowing Waters, building them towns of beauty and greatness, as may be seen to this day, and the marks of their rites also are on the rocks whithersoever they traveled. Far south they fared until they came to the great valley of Shóhkoniman (home, or place of nativity, of the Flute-canes) beneath the Mountain of Flutes (Shóhko yálana—La Sierra Escudilla), whence they turned them eastward.
How they builded thereafter, wheresoever long they remained, not single towns, but for each sept of their kinties a town by itself, and the names of these clan-towns, and the wars they fought contending with the Kâ´kâ, and how finally they reached the Mountain of Space-speaking Markings (Yála Tétsinapa), then turned them back westward and sat them down at last with other people of the way, in the upper valley of Zuñiland (Shíwina Téu‘hlkwaina), building Héshotatsína (The Town of Speech-markings) and many other towns, all of them round and divided into parts, ere they rejoined the people of the Middle, when that they too had come nigh over the heart of the world—all this and much else is told in the speeches they themselves hold of our ancient discourse.
How the People of the Middle, the Macaw people and their children, journeyed straightway eastward, led by Áhaiyuta and the fathers of all the people, this we tell in the mid-coming speech of our sacred ancient discourse, and in other speeches thereof. How, now, after time, they settled at Kwákina, where the Brotherhood of Fire (Mákekwe) had its place of ancient origin in wondrous wise—told of by themselves—and where originated their great dance drama of the Mountain Sheep, and the power of entrance into fire, and even of contention with sorcery itself.
And at each place in which the people stopped, building greatly, they learned or did some of the things for which those who be custodians of our olden customs amongst the Tík‘yaápapakwe (Sacred Brotherhoods) are still marvelous in their knowledge and practice. But after our father ancients had builded in Kwákina, lo! when the world rumbled and the shells sounded, the noise thereof was not great, and therefore no longer did they arise as a whole people, for seeking yet still the Middle, but always many abode longer, some living through the dangers which followed, and becoming the fathers of "Those who dwell round about the Middle." Still, for long the warnings sounded and the leaders would be summoning the people to seek the "very midmost place wherein the tabernacle of the sacred seed-contents might be placed at rest safely for all time, and where might dwell in peace those who kept it."
It was in this way that first after Kwákina, Háwik’uh was built, and thereafter, round about Zuñi, each (at first lesser because of the people left behind each time) of all the others of the six towns of all the regions the Midmost (Shíwina ‘Hlúella Úlapna).
First, then, Kwákina, then Háwik’uh, K‘yánawe, Hámpasawan, K‘yäkime and Mátsaki. And in what manner the people dwelt in each of these, how they talked and consorted wondrously with beasts and gods alike is told in the télapnawe (tales of the olden time passing) of our ancients, alike in the "lies of the grandfathers" and in the "strands" of their solemn sayings. But always, at each place, were those abiding who believed, despite the warnings, that they had found the Middle, least wise for themselves, contending the which, they continued in the place of their choice, those of the Northern (sept) in the first place, those of the West next, and so, those of the South, East, Upper and Lower regions. Whilst still the main people of the Macaw and the other Middle kinties, sought unweariedly until they thought at last that in Mátsaki they had found indeed the place of the Middle.
Whilst in this persuasion they still tarried there, lo! again, after long wanderings through many valleys, the peoples of Corn and the Seed found them there, through seeing of their smoke, and in the near valley to the eastward found they as well the peoples of the Corn and the Seed, dwelling in their great round towns, the smoke whereof wanderers had also erstwhile been. So they said to them, "Ye are our younger brothers! At Mátsaki, here at the Middle, let us dwell in peace as one people, others of our kinds around about us, yet with us!"
Thereby Mátsaki greatly increased; but the warnings yet still sounded anon and the gods and master-priests of the people could not rest.
Nay, they called a great council of men and the beings, beasts, birds and insects of all kinds ‘hlímna; these were gathered in the council.
After long deliberation it was said:
"Where is K‘yanäs´tïpe, the Water-skate? Lo! legs has he of great extension, six in number. Mayhap he can feel forth with them to the uttermost of all the six regions, thereby pointing out the very Middle." And K‘yanäs´tïpe, being summoned, appeared in semblance, growing greater; for lo! it was the Sun-father himself (K‘yanäs´tïpe through ‘hlímna being). And he answered their questions ere he was bespoken, saying, "Yea, that can I do." And he lifted himself to the zenith, and extended his finger-feet six to all of the six regions, so that they touched to the north, the great waters; and to the west, and the south, and the east, the great waters; and to the northeast, the waters above; and to the southwest, the waters below.
But to the north, his finger-foot grew cold, so he drew it in; and to the west, the waters being nearer, touched his finger-foot thither extended, so he drew that in also. But to the south and east far reached his other finger-feet. Then gradually he settled downward and called out, "Where my heart and navel rest, beneath them mark ye the spot and there build ye a town of the midmost, for there shall be the midmost place of the earth-mother, even the navel; albeit not the center, because of the nearness of cold in the north and the nearness of waters in the west." And when he descended (squatting), his belly rested over the middle of the plain and valley of Zuñi; and when he drew in his finger-legs, lo! there were the trail-roads leading out and in like stays of a spider's net, into and forth from the place he had covered.
Then the fathers of the people built in that spot, and rested thereat their tabernacle of sacred treasures. But K‘yanäs´tïpe had swerved in lowering, and their town was reared a little south of the very midmost place. Nevertheless, no longer in after time sounded the warnings. Hence, because of their great good fortune (hálowilin) in thus finding the stable middle of the world, the priest-fathers of the people called this midmost town the Abiding place of Happy Fortune (Hálonawan).
Yet, because they had erred even so little, and because the first priest of after times did evil, lo! the river to the southward ran full, and breaking from its pathway cut in twain the great town, burying houses and men in the mud of its impetuosity. Whence, those who perished not and those of the flooded towns rounded about fled to the top of the Mountain of Thunder, they with all their Seed people and things, whence the villages they built there were named Tâaiyá‘hltona ‘Hlúelawa, or the "Towns-all-above of-the-seed-all."
But when by the sacrifice of the youth priest and maiden priestess (as told in other speech) the waters had been made to abate and the land became good to walk upon, all the people descended, calling that high mountain place, which ever after hath echoed thunder, Tâaiyálane, or the Mountain of Thunder. When all the towns were rebuilded, then on the northern side of the river they builded anew the Town of the Middle, calling it Hálona Ítiwana (Halona the Midmost); but the desolated part they called Hálonawan, because they had erred there (hálowak‘ya), though even so little.
Now at last never more did the world rumble; yet the fathers of the people questioned in their hearts, fearing further misfortune to their children, if so be they still erred in the resting place of the sacred mysteries whatsoever. So, when the sun had reached the middle between winter and summer, they devised an ordinance and custom whereby this might be tested. They brought out the things of lightning and the earthquake; even the keepers of the great navel-shell were summoned as having canny and magic skill. And as now we do in observing the custom of the Middle-arriving, all the people fasting, all the fires close kept, so then, for ten days they made ready, and on the last night the shell was laid by the sacred fire in Héin Kíwitsina of the North, and watched all the night through, by its keepers and the fathers foremost, and the Priests of the Bow. Meanwhile the incantations of dread meaning, taught of the Twain in Hán‘hlipiŋk‘ya, were chanted, yet the world only rumbled deeply and afar down, but it trembled not, neither did the Seven Fell Ones breathe destruction—only storms. Then, said the fathers, "O, thanks! In peace-expecting mood may we kindle afresh the fires of our hearths for the year that is dawning." And they sent forth new fire to all houses, causing the old to be cast out as is seen and known to us all in the custom of this day of the Middle-arriving!
So, happily abode the people, they and their brothers round about them at the Middle, for surely now the sacred things were resting over the stable middle of the world, and were the foundations of Hálona Ítiwana or the Midmost place of Favor (or fortune).
Now when thus, after long ages of wandering, the tabernacles of the precious seed-things were resting over the Middle at Zuñi (they, the fathers of the people and also the Corn tribes and their other children), then, as in the olden time, men turned their hearts rather to the cherishing of their corn and Corn maidens than to the wasting of lives in war with strange men and the Ákâkâ. Again they loved, cheerfully too, the custom of the beautiful Corn maidens, and this, year after year, they practiced that the seed of seeds might ever be renewed and its abundance be maintained.
And whereas this was well, yet, forsooth! there were not wanting those who grew weary of the custom at last, and said that it was not as in the olden time it had been. Then, said they, the fathers of the people had performed their custom, and the fathers of the people of Dew theirs, the one awaiting the other, as it were, and both joining in the sight of the people all. Others said that the music was not as that of the olden time; that better far was that which of nights they sometimes heard (oftener toward morning) as they wandered up and down the trail by the river; wonderful music this, as of liquid voices in caverns or the echo of women's laughter in water-vases. And this music, they said, was timed with a deep-toned drum, and seemed to come forth from the very bowels of the Mountain of Thunder. Lo! they were awed thereby, and bethought that the music was, mayhap, that of the ghosts of ancient men who had dwelt above in the times of the high waters; but it was far more beautiful, at least, than the music of the ‘Hláhekwe singers when danced the Corn maidens.
Others said yea, and lingering near they had seen, as the daylight increased, white clouds roll upward from the grotto in Thunder mountain like to the mists that leave behind them the dew itself, and as the sun rose, lo! within them even as they faded, the bright garments of the Rainbow-women might sometimes be seen fluttering, and the broidery and paintings of these dancers of the mists were more beautiful than the costumes of even the Maidens of Corn.
Then were the fathers of the People-priests of the House of Houses sore displeased at these murmurings of their children, and bade them to be hushed; yet they pondered, and bethought themselves how to still these foolish children yet more completely, so that the precious Mothers of Corn be not made sad by their plaints.
"What is this ye tell us?" said they. "These things be to the simple as the wind and other movings, speechless; but to us, they be signs, even as erst the warnings of the under-world were signs to our fathers the beloved, and ourselves, that we seek still further the Middle, so are these things signs to us. Stay, therefore, thy feet with patience, while we devise that ye be made content and happy." Then to one another they said, "It may well be Paíyatuma, the liquid voices his flute and the flutes of his players that they tell of. Come now, we will await the time of our custom, and then learn if perchance our hearts guess aright."
Now when the time of ripening corn was near, the fathers ordered preparation for the ‘Hláhekwe, or dance of the Corn maidens.
When the days of preparing had been well nigh numbered, the old ones, even the Kâ´yemäshi themselves who had come with the Kâ´kâ (subject now to the prayerful breaths of the priest-fathers of the people) in the spring and summer times of the Kâ´k’okshi dances, came forth yet again from the west, and with fun and much noise of mouth, made—as for his sister their father had first made—a bower of cedar. But this bower they built, not in the open plain, but in the great court of the town where the dances and customs of the Kâ´kâ were held. For in these days the people and the kinties of Seed no longer came as strangers to the abode of other people, hence builded not their bower in the plain, but in the plaza of their own town. And the Kâ´yemäshi diligently collected cedar-boughs and rafter-poles from the hills beyond the plains. With these, as they had been commanded in olden time by K‘yäk´lu, they builded the great bower. They helped also the chosen men of the Badger and Water kinties to bring the hemlock trees from the southern canyon, and danced, singing gravely for the nonce, as these called forth the growth thereof in sacred smoke of the spaces, and then, as the night fell, laden with offerings from the people, and whitened with the favor of their prayer-meal, they returned whither the Kâ´kâ and the souls of men ever return, westward along the river to the mountains of the Dance of Good and the Waters of the Dead.
Then came the Sun-priest and the Priests of the House of Houses, with the tabernacles of sacred seed-substances, the múetone, the k‘yáetone and the chúetone, and with world-terraced bowls of sacred favor (prayer-meal). These, they bore into the plaza in solemn procession, followed by the matrons of the Seed and Water clans, with the trays of new seed and their offerings of plumed wands to the spaces; and even as today, in every particular, so then the Priest of the Sun and his younger brothers of the House laid out the sacred reclining terrace and roadway of prayer, leading down from it through the middle, and duly placed the sacred things in order upon and before it. As today it is done even in the same order, so then the priests took their places at the rear of the terrace and altar of sacred things, and the matrons theirs by their trays of new seed, those of the Seed kins southwardly to the right, those of the Water kins northwardly to the left beside the reclining terrace and down the sacred roadway guided and placed, each in order, by the chosen leaders of the dance, and watched over by the Priests of the Bow.
Thus, when the singers came and sat them down in the southern side, as today, so then, the father of the people gave the word for beginning, and spake the issuing-forth rites. But then, not as now, there were singers only to the south, yea, and dancers only of them, whence the complainings of the people had been voiced.
As the darkness deepened the master-priest said, "Lo, now! as in the olden time let kindled be a fire, beyond the dancers (ótakwe) in front of the bower. Mayhap by its light yet other singers and dancers will come, as in the olden time came Paíyatuma and his people, for the perfection of the corn. If so be, those who murmur will be content with the completeness of our custom."
Then those whose office it was to keep the shell and fire, generated with their hands the heat thereof, and the youths round about merrily attended them with fuel, and in the brightening light the dance went on.
When the House of the Seven Stars had risen high in the sky, then the fathers summoned before them the two Master-priests of the Bow. "Ye have heard," said they in low-sounding speech, "the complainings of these children and their tales of strange sights and sounds at the grotto under Thunder mountain. Go forth, therefore, and test the truth of all this. If so be ye too hear the music, approach the cavern and send greeting before ye. It were no wonder if ye behold Paíyatuma and his maidens other seven, and his singers and players of flutes. They will deem ye well arrived, and maychance will deign to throw the light of their favor upon us and give us help of their custom, thereby adding to the contentment and welfare of our children among men, and to the completeness of our own observances."
Then with their hands the Fathers of the House extended their breaths, which breathing, the Priests of the Bow went forth, one following the other.
When, up the trail of the river, they had some time passed Mátsaki, they heard the sound of a drum and strains of song now and then echoing down from Thunder mountain. Then they knew that the sounds came from the Cavern of the Rainbow, and so hastened forward; and as they neared the entrance, mists enshrouded them, and they knew now also that verily Paíyatuma was there. Then they called to know if there were gathering within. The singing ceased, and they were bidden to enter and sit. As they did so, Paíyatuma came forward to them and said:
"Ye come well. I have commanded the singers to cease and the players to draw breath from their flutes, that we might hearken to the messages ye bear, since for naught never stranger visits the place of a stranger."
"True," replied the two, "our fathers have sent us to seek and greet ye, it having been declared by our children that thy song-sounds and the customs thereof so far surpass our own, even those of our beloved Maidens, makers of the seed of seeds."
"Ah, well!" replied he, "thus ever is it with men, children, verily! Athirst ever are they for that which is not or which they have not. Yet it is well that ye come, and it shall be as ye wish. Sit ye yet longer, watch and listen."
To the left, grouped around a great world-bowl, clad in broidered cotton vestment, were a splendid band of players, long flutes in their hands and the adornments of god-priests on their faces and persons. In their midst, too, was a drummer and also a bearer of the song-staff; aged, they, and dignified with years.
Paíyatuma scattered a line of pollen on the floor, and folding his arms strode to the rear of the cavern, then turned him about and with straightened mien (tsámo‘hlanishi), advanced again. Following him, lo, and behold! came seven maidens beauteous like to the Maidens of Corn, but taller and fainter of form. Like to them also in costume, yet differing somewhat in the hue of the mantles they wore. And in their hands they carried, not tablets of the sun, moon, and each her star with cross symbol of the Corn priests above them, but, verily, wands of cottonwood from the branchlets and buds of which tiny clouds flowed forth.
"These be the sisters of our Maidens of Corn, of the House of the Stars, seen these too, as they, so these more faintly, as, when above are seen the stars of the House of Seven, others seven are seen below in the waters. Like in form of gesture is their dance custom, but fertile not of the seed, but of the water of life wherewith the seed is quickened," said Paíyatuma.
He lifted his flute, then took his place in the line of the dancers, as the yä´poto does in the line of the Corn dance. The drum sounded until the cavern shook as with thunder. The flutes sang and sighed as the wind in a wooded canyon whilst still the storm is distant. White mists floated up from the wands of the maidens and mingled with the breath of the flutes over the terraced world-bowl, above which sported the butterflies of Summerland, about the dress of the Rainbow in the strange blue light of the night.
Awed and entranced with the beauty of it were the Priests of the Bow, insomuch that when they arose to go they feared to speak their further message. But Paíyatuma, smiling, gave them his breath with his hands and said, "Go ye the way before, telling the fathers of our custom, and straightway we will follow."
Then silently the Priests of the Bow returned as they had come, and entering the dance-court and bower, bowed low and breathed over the hands of the fathers and by them being breathed and smoked in turn, told of what they had seen and listened to in the Cave of the Rainbow. But the watchers had grown weary, and only the fathers heard and understood. While the people nodded their heads all drowsily, some sleeping, the leaders arose as their father ancients had arisen on that night of the birth of Corn in the olden time, and carried the sacred gourds aside and placed them around a great world-bowl wherein was water, and over them in secret (as in the olden time those fathers-ancients had done with the prayer-wands and grass seeds, so now) they performed rites, and said mystic prayer-words. And in the bowl they put dew of honey and sacred honey-dust of corn-pollen, and the ancient stones—ancient of water whence water increases. Then, to the left and northward side they placed the bowl and with it a great drum jar, and spread blankets as for singers other than those already sitting on the southern side.
After that they sat them down again, and then the Priests of the Bow signed their guardian younger brothers to bestir the people assembled that they might sit the more seemly for the coming, mayhap, of precious strangers.