There was an old woman who lived with her grandson, Osoon (Turkey), in a lonely lodge a long ways from a settlement. The lodge was old and very large, but only the two lived in it, for all others had been killed by sorcerers.

Winter was coming on and the old woman was busily engaged each day in gathering firewood for the winter’s store. Every day she would cry as she started on her journey and when she returned she would cry again, for she was old and weak.

After a time the boy, Turkey, asked his grandmother why she wept continually. “Oh my grandson,” she answered, “all our people are dead and I am getting old. I have a hard time getting roots and bark for winter food and gathering wood makes me very tired.”

Then she took Turkey to the end of the long house and pushed aside a piece of bark. Beyond was another room which Turkey had never seen before. As they entered it Turkey saw that it was filled with all kinds of clothing and weapons and many strange things. “This is where I have placed all the things that belonged to our family when it lived here,” said the grandmother. “I will show you this place but you must never enter it or touch anything.”

The next day when the grandmother left the lodge to gather wood Turkey pushed aside the bark and entered the room. It was dark but after a time he could see. He found a large drum which pleased him very much. He fell to beating it and it made a sound that he thought delightful. Then he went out and closed the bark over the opening.

When the grandmother returned with her load of wood she wept again. “Why do you always weep?” asked Turkey. And she replied, “All of our people are dead. They have been destroyed by a monster wizard who eats human flesh. His lodge is to the east and near it is a great bed of strawberries. Oh, they are as large as hearts. Once there was a good village of our tribe there, but the people were killed and the houses have now fallen down.” Then she fell into a fit of weeping again.

Turkey now said, “My grandmother, now is the time for me to go. I shall shortly go.”

The next day when the grandmother was away, Turkey entered the forbidden room and found a net bat and a ball. He removed them and went out and played ball (lacrosse). Then he returned and found the drum, which he beat with great vigor. So loudly did he beat it that his grandmother heard it and returned in great fright. “Do you want the monster to find out where we live and come here and eat us?” she scolded, but Turkey only replied. “Oh my grandmother, don’t scold me. Tell me more about the monster.”

“His name is Deadoeñdjadaseⁿ,” replied the grandmother, “and he has seven sisters who wait upon him. Oh never go east.”

“Make me some moccasins,” commanded the boy. “I am going east.”

Still forbidding him to go, the grandmother, nevertheless, made the moccasins. In a short time he was ready to start.

Now Turkey was cautious and crept along through the underbrush until he came to a clearing where he saw a dried human skin fastened by a cord to a tall pole. It swung around in the wind and watched the clearing. Turkey noticed that there was a large strawberry patch there with berries as big as hearts. He was very crafty and knew that he could not approach the Hadjoqda (dried skin), without being seen and reported to its masters. Looking about he saw a mole and made a bargain with it to borrow its coat. Shrinking himself by magic he entered the mole skin and then burrowed underground until he was directly under the skin, when he broke a little root into beads and stained them with berry juice. He called to the skin and offered to give it wampum if it would talk for a while. This the skin agreed to do, and told him all the mysteries of the clearing. Turkey learned that the master sorcerer was Deadoeñdjadseⁿ, and that the seven sisters cooked human flesh for him, grinding it in a corn mortar with white corn meal. Only this would he eat. When the sisters were not cooking they guarded the strawberries from the deer that came into the clearing to graze.

“What more should I learn to be safe?” asked Turkey.

“What will you give to know?” replied Skin Man.

“I will rub my hands on you and make you free,” answered Turkey.

Then he learned that the lives of the sorcerer and his sister were secure, for they could not be killed, their hearts being concealed under the wing of a loon that swam in a pool under a bed in the lodge. A dog guarded the hearts and they could only be surrendered upon order of Deadoeñdjadseⁿ, himself.

Meanwhile the sisters had been calling the skin, and louder and louder did they call. Turkey said, “Tell them that you have been making wampum for them, and that Deadoeñdjadseⁿ is about to return spitting blood. Then I will stir up the deer and enter the lodge. Then you will report the deer and the sisters will rush out to save their strawberries. I will find their hearts and kill them. Then I will make you free.”

Hadjoqda, the skin man, returned to the lodge, saying that he had been making wampum, and was delayed. He said moreover that he saw their brother returning, being sick. The youngest sister was suspicious of the wampum, but it appeared to be good, and the sisters divided it. Skin Man then returned to his station.

In a short time Turkey had gone back to the mole and returned its coat with a gift in payment. Then he used magic to make himself appear exactly like Deadoeñdjadseⁿ, and strode boldly into the clearing, chewing a strawberry and spitting the juice. This gave him great power. He drew near the lodge and called for food, but one sister was suspicious and offered him corn, then meat, then fish, but Turkey refused them all and roared that he was Oñgwe Iās and wanted his accustomed dinner. This they put before him and he ate it all, satisfying the women that he was indeed their brother.

Suddenly Skin Man began to call and the women all ran out of the lodge, for Skin Man was crying that the deer were in the strawberries.

When the sisters were out of sight, Turkey noticed a small dog watching one of the beds. He threw a piece of meat to the dog and then lifted up the bed. Beneath was a pool of water and a loon swimming about. “Give me the hearts,” commanded Turkey. The loon lifted up a wing but there were no hearts under it. “You give me those hearts!” commanded Turkey, once more. This time the loon lifted its right wing and beneath were the eight hearts. Turkey grabbed them and ran out crying, “I am Turkey, and I’ve got your hearts.”

When the sisters saw Turkey with the hearts they began to chase him with the clubs which they used on the deer, but as each assailant approached Turkey squeezed her heart, causing her to faint. One by one he squeezed until they all cried out and fainted but the rest arose as he released his pressure and ran after him, when by giving a hard squeeze they all fell down. By this time the women were at the flat rock where their brother killed his victims. Turkey now threw their hearts one by one on the stone and each cracked open like a flint stone.

Deadoeñdjadseⁿ, suspecting mischief, now ran to the clearing where he met the Skin Man. Of him he made inquiries as to what the noise was all about. Skin Man was very insolent and called Deadoeñdjadseⁿ bad names, enraging him greatly. “Turkey has your heart, Turkey has your heart,” sang the Skin Man in derision. The monster sorcerer then rushed into the clearing where he saw Turkey dancing about the flat stone. He rushed upon him, but Turkey threw the heart upon the rock and broke both heart and rock. Then he patted Skin Man all over the body and restored him to his normal form. To his surprise he found him to be his own brother, who had been held by sorcery to obey the commands of the wizard and his sisters.

Together they gathered many bones that were strewn about the flat rock. When all were piled up Turkey kicked over a pig-nut tree and called out, “Disjointed bones, arise before this tree falls upon you!” The tree fell and before it hit the ground a great host of people arose and all were quarreling, for all had portions of the others’ bodies. Turkey pacified them and told them to wait. From the throng he picked out his own relatives and with them returned to his grandmother’s lodge.

The grandmother was very happy when she saw her relatives,—her children and grandchildren. By her suggestion they all returned to the clearing where the strawberries grew and there they built a new village, and there they live to this day.

At one time there was nothing to eat on all the earth. Nearly all the people had starved to death, and a few that remained gathered together on a high hill. They lived on boiled bark.

There was a certain young man who kept saying all the time, “It will be better after a while.” Nobody believed him because things were getting worse each day. His brother used to torture him with sharp stones and say harsh things to him. The young man, however, kept thinking that something would happen soon. After a while he heard footsteps, as if on a clean path. He listened for the span of a moon and then heard them running. He told the people but nobody believed him.

One morning while he sat in the doorway of his lodge with his head down on his knees, a young woman stood before him. He heard her breathe and looked up. She smiled and handed him a basket of bread. “My mother sent me to this lodge to find a young man,” she said. “My mother wants me to marry him.”

The people came out of the lodge and looked at the young woman and the young man’s mother asked from whence she had come. “I have come from the far south,” answered the girl. “There is plenty of food there.”

So the young man ate the bread and was married to the young woman from the south.

Then the young wife said, “My mother sent me to bring food to you. Let everybody take off the tops of their corn barrels and then enter the lodge and cover their faces.”

The sun had now come up and it was hot. The people did not like their faces covered, but soon they heard a sound like corn falling into their barrels. After a time the noise ceased and the young wife said, “It is finished now.”

Out into the shed went the people of the lodge and found the barrels full of shelled corn. Everybody ate and all were satisfied, except the younger brother, who threw his food into the fire and said he wanted game. Now the young wife had cooked the corn the young man threw away, and she was made sad by his action. So she said, “My husband, go to the river and get fish enough for the people.” But the younger brother said, “It is foolish to go to the river, for fish have deserted the river. There are none.” Nevertheless, the young husband went to the river and drew out enough fish for all the people. The younger brother was very angry.

The next day the husband went hunting and while he was absent the younger brother began to torment the young wife. “Your food is not good,” he said. “I cast your food away,” and again he threw food into the fire.

When the husband returned he found his wife crying and when he asked her what was troubling her she said, “Your younger brother has spoiled everything. He has rejected my food (speaking thereby the dissatisfaction of all the people). I shall now return to my home.”

The husband was very sad and begged her not to go, but his wife told him that her mother instructed her to return if she were abused. During the following night there was a sound of scraping in the corn barrels and in the morning when the women went for their corn it was all gone, and with it the bride had vanished.

After consultation the husband determined to search for his wife, and thus he set out on a long journey. At length he came to a region of great corn fields and after a while saw a high mound covered with corn plants. On this mound he found his wife and her mother. His wife showed him her body and it was burned and scarred. “This is what your brother did to me,” she said, “when he threw the corn into the fire. He would have killed me had I remained.”

After living in the south for several months the couple returned and found the people again starving. The young wife ordered them to open their corn barrels and hide their faces once again. They did so and shelled corn fell like rain into the barrels filling them to the top.

Then the young wife told the people that corn must never be wasted or thrown away for it is food and if destroyed will cause the crops to be poor and the corn to cease to yield.

There was once a very lazy man named Twentgowa. He had a wife and several children. Twentgowa was always giving excuses to his wife as to why he did not hunt game more often like other men.

Twentgowa often went into the deep woods and had a mossy rock near a river where he would lie and dream of the things he would like to do and how he would kill big game animals if he only had a chance. More and more often he repaired to his favorite spot as his wife scolded him for not bringing home game.

One evening a man came to the lodge where Twentgowa lived. He stood in the doorway and said: “I am your friend. I have visited you before but this is the first time you have seen me. I have known your name for a long time. Now you must come often and see me. I have good things in my place of abode and there is plenty to eat and much game hanging on my rafters.” Then he walked away.

Twentgowa did not know where his friend lived but thought he might find him some day. Now on the next day there was nothing to eat in the house, save a few pieces of corn bread, and the wife scolded Twentgowa saying: “Oh you who are always squatting like a duck on a nest, you shall not eat but this food shall be for our children. Begone, and if you have a friend perhaps he will receive you.” So that is what she said.

The lazy man arose from his bed and went out of the house. “I will now go and seek my friend,” he thought to himself. He went directly to the mossy spot on the rock where he customarily sought refuge and when he arrived there he found his bed very thick with moss, making it a fine spot upon which to recline. When he had lain there a short time he looked up and saw a large bark house, with very fine poles as supports and over the door a head of some animal he could not identify.

He arose and with caution walked toward the door of the house and when he stood before it he saw his friend.

“My friend,” said he, “I did not know this house was here. I never saw it before.”

“Come in,” said his friend, “This is where I live. Oh this house has here stood for many years and I am greatly surprised that you have not seen it. Now it is time to eat. Be seated here on a mat and let us eat together. The first thing we must eat is os‘howä, a pudding.”

Thereupon the friend went to an upper shelf and took down a bowl into which he placed a loathly mess of substance that had the odor of a fish a long time dead. “Djiskwengo,” exclaimed the friend, and the bowl filled up with steaming pudding of most enticing odor.

So the two friends ate the food and relished it greatly. Oh, it was far better than any food that Twentgowa had ever eaten. “It is so delicious,” said he, “that I would like to take some home to my family. I would like to borrow a cooking pot to contain it.”

“My friend, there is no need of that,” said the householder. “I will give you power to do as I have done. You have only to follow my directions and you will have great power to produce delicious food for your family.”

So Twentgowa stood at the back of the lodge and his friend threw the pot of food into him right through the wall of his abdomen. It vanished through magic and power was within Twentgowa.

Twentgowa now said he was about to return to his home and he started out on his journey which seemed very much longer than ever before, as if the path had stretched. He kept thinking of his newly acquired power and thought it might be well to test it. So he sat down on a log and used his magical word, “Odjiskwagoh.” As he did this a great pile of steaming pumpkin pudding formed on the ground. “Oh my!” exclaimed Twentgowa. “Power within me is; now I shall eat forever.” He was now satisfied that he had a great friend.

Running home he entered his lodge and told his story. He told of his feasting on pumpkin pudding and of the power he had to make it by magic. So he took a jar from the top platform of his lodge and in the manner directed filled it. He placed in it the loathly substance like unto a dead fish and then conjured it until it overflowed into the large bark dish in which the jar was placed. “Ah now,” said Twentgowa, “we shall have a feast. Oh, it is so appetizing!”

His wife was very angry and would not touch the food but scolded him, for instead of real food all that was produced was a terrible mess that drove her and the children out of the house. She threw stones into the lodge and called him out, for he was dancing inside.

So the people saw that Twentgowa had lied and could not make food by unnatural means, but made that which was evil. And his wife scolded him and said: “Do not go to the lodge of that man any longer. He is none other than S‘hodie´oⁿskoⁿ’, whom we know as a mischief maker. He will make your mind abnormal and what is bad he will make you think is good. If you persist in visiting him you will suffer and great calamity will befall us all.”

Twentgowa was greatly downcast and wondered why he had failed before the people. He determined to go and see his friend again and seek an explanation. So he went as before. “My friend, I was just thinking of you,” said his friend when he entered the lodge. “Come we will now eat together. This time we will have the whole pumpkin. Oh it is most delicious.”

So when he had said this he sat down on a long bench and laid his war club against his thighs and it became as if alive. It lay upon the bench and it had a round head which was very large. Then the friend said: “Pumpkin come forth. Thou art concealed within the head of my warclub. Burst forth!”

So saying he struck the head of his war club with a long handled maul. Immediately a pumpkin rolled forth from the head of his war club. So they cooked it and ate it. Twentgowa found it most delicious and was continually saying, “Oga’´oⁿ’! Oga’´oⁿ! This is so delicious,” said he, “that I would be most happy to have the power to do the same as you have done, for in this manner I could feed my family.”

“I will give you power to so produce twice,” said the friend, “but further you must not try for it is not good to always eat pumpkins alone. Now I am ready. Stand, swing your war club until it comes ‘whack’ against the head of my club. If you can hit mine there will be power within you.”

So Twentgowa swung his war club about, spinning on his heel until he came, “sqŭŭh” against his friend’s club and it made a great whack that nearly broke Twentgowa in twain.

“Now,” said Twentgowa, “I will try my power,” so he hit his club with a maul and a pumpkin rolled forth. “Now I must go home and make pumpkins,” he said. “Now I go.”

On his way through the forest he began to wonder if indeed he had power. He thought that by some chance power was within him only so long as he was in the presence of his friend and that his friend had fooled him by magic to make mischief after the fashion of S‘hodieⁿskoⁿ’. Thereupon he sat astride a log and laid his war club before him, its round head being at the further end of the log. Then he grasped a stick and reached over and struck the head of the war club. It was as his friend had said, for a pumpkin rolled forth. He did not want to carry the pumpkin home so he made a fire and cooked it. Oh it was a delicious pumpkin and he kept continually saying “Oga’´oⁿ’.” Then he went home.

He went in his lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend this time has given me good power. I will make pumpkins for you. Get my stake maul with which I am accustomed to drive in the long stakes of the house. Now I seat myself upon this bench and lay my war club before me. This is the right way to proceed. Now I whack my war club with the maul.” So saying he hit at the head of his club, but in so doing he lifted up his foot upon the bench and whacked his big toe. It was a terrible and resounding whack, but no pumpkin rolled forth. Instead, Twentgowa fell off the bench like a dead man. He gave one dismal long-drawn-out howl and fainted.

It was a long time before he recovered and when he did he was very sore and limped when he walked. He could not hunt and when his wife scolded him for a lazy man, he sneaked away again and went to the lodge of his friend.

Arriving at the lodge he limped in. “Oh my friend,” said the house holder, “I have been awaiting you; come, let us go after fish.” So saying he went out and strode down to the creek where he removed his leggings. He took out his knife and passed it through his lips, moistening it. Then he began to whittle the meat off his shins so that the bone stood out sharp like a long knife. “Now, my friend,” said he, “I will wade swiftly through the water and strike the fishes before they can move to one side. They will die and float to the top of the water and I will pick them up. After a while we will have enough for a good repast.” He then waded in the water very swiftly and soon many fishes were upon the water which he picked up and flung over his shoulder into a basket. Coming ashore he put down his basket and then began to moisten his shins with salivary fluid. They quickly were restored and did not bleed at any time. Thus they made a fire and feasted on fish. Oh it was very delicious and Twentgowa kept saying, “Oga’´oⁿ’.”

“Now, furthermore,” he said, “I would like to have this power of catching fish for if I possessed it I might obtain food for my family.”

“You shall possess this power,” said his friend, “and when I touch your shins with my tongue you shall have power to twice perform this act of obtaining fish.” And it was done.

So Twentgowa tried his new power and caught many fish which he left with his friend. Then he said, “I must go now, I am going home.” Then he started home and on the way through the woods came to a stream that looked as if it had no fish in it so that he said, “I will now test my power in order that I may not be laughed at derisively.” So he whittled his shins and waded in the water, and it was as predicted,—fish floated upon the surface and when he had eaten them he went on his way.

He went in his lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend has given me new power. I will now go and catch fish for you but you must not mind if they have cuts in them. It is my manner of catching fish.” So saying he went to a creek and taking off his leggings whittled his shins. As he cut the flesh blood flowed out and he was in great pain. He tried again and fell down bleeding. He bled very much and began to howl. For a long time he bled until he fainted again.

As night began to draw nigh his wife missed him and went out looking for him along the stream. Soon she saw a red trickle in the creek and going toward it saw her husband bleeding from cuts in his shins. She dragged him to the lodge and then called upon her dog to go and fetch S‘hondie´oⁿskoⁿ’, the magical friend, to come and heal the husband. The dog went and soon the friend returned. When Twentgowa returned to his mind he scolded his friend, but his friend applied salivary fluid to the wounds and they healed. Then said the friend, “I gave you power twice, but further than that I did not give you. You have cheated and wasted your power. I shall go now. Come to see me again.”

Then did his wife scold Twentgowa and said, “You must cease your visits to the evil mischief maker. He is only a maker of trouble and you have never profited by his tricks. If you would get busy like a man and hunt like a man you would have food. You are no good, but a bad, lazy man. I forbid you to associate with anyone, not even the dog.”

Now when Twentgowa thought about the matter he decided to go once more to his friend and procure power for obtaining food. So he went away by stealth and sought his friend. When he had come to the bark house he found his friend in the doorway.

“I have been waiting for you,” said his friend. “I am all ready to go hunting. Come now, I am ready.” He then took a skein of twisted elm bark cords each about as long as a man’s arm. With these he went to a lake to which Twentgowa followed him. “Where are your arrows?” asked Twentgowa. And his friend replied, “Oh you will never understand my ways. I hunt underwater with strings. I am now going down into the water and hunt ducks.”

Away out on the lake were ducks swimming and soon one duck after another disappeared. When all had vanished, after the manner of ducks diving and not returning to the surface, the friend returned to the shore with a large bundle of ducks tied by the feet with the elm bark cord. “Now we may eat,” said he. So they ate duck and Twentgowa kept saying, “Ogao.” Moreover he said, “Oh I would like this power of catching ducks for if I possess it I might feed my family.”

“You shall have this power,” said his friend, “but only twice may you try it. I have only to hit your nose with a fish bladder I have held in my mouth and to lick your bark cords with my tongue.” So he did the necessary thing, touching Twentgowa’s nose with a fish’s air-bladder and biting a bundle of cords. Twentgowa was delighted and danced down to the water, into it and under it. Soon he returned with two ducks.

Then he said, “Now I must go home. Now I go.” So saying he started homeward, and on his way came to a big pond in which he saw ducks swimming. “I will now use my power,” he said and immediately went into the water, returning with the ducks. Thereupon he threw the ducks away and went home.

Again he went into the lodge and greeted his wife. “I have new power,” he said. “My friend has given me power this time and I shall bring you many ducks.” So then he went into the woods where there was a lake.

Into the lake he went for he saw upon its surface a great flock of ducks swimming closely together. He had trouble this time but as all the ducks were together he tied several together and then poked one of them to scare it.

Upward flew the ducks with such impetus that Twentgowa was drawn up into the air and over the forest. When the ducks had flown a short way the string which he was holding broke and down he fell and into the top of an enormous hollow stub. He stood there stunned until he heard a noise outside. He peeped through a knot-hole and saw a damsel gathering wood. He made a squeaking noise to frighten her and she ran up to the tree and looked into the knot-hole. She saw his head against the hole and immediately thought that there was a bear inside. So Twentgowa rapped on the inside of the tree and it resounded like a drum. Twentgowa then sang “Djii-ha-ha, djii-ha-ha!” many times, and the damsel danced.

After a while she went home and told her sisters that there was a bear tree near by and that a bear within it sang and drummed. So they all went to the bear tree and said, “Oh Bear, make a song for us. We wish to dance.” Again Twentgowa sang and they all danced. He found that he could not stop singing, though he was tired, and the damsels found that they could not stop dancing. After a while a man came and stood near them. “There is a bear inside this tree and we are dancing, come dance,” they called out to him. He was smiling and after a while began to laugh. “I’ll show you what kind of a bear is inside,” he said. Then the singing and dancing ceased. He took an axe and chopped down the tree. Where he made the first hole black shaggy hair showed through. It looked like a bear. He kept on chopping and after a time the stub fell over and there inside was a man with his clothes torn off. He had on only his loin-cloth. The damsels ran in fright.

In their place stood the wife and she was very angry. She scolded him for making the damsels dance and for singing so long for them. She scolded him for going to the mischief maker’s house and threatened him if he ever went again. Oh, she gave him a terrible scolding and it made him frightened.

Then the friend came out of the bushes where he was hiding and he said, “Now you two who are married, I will speak to you. Twentgowa must not go to the woods any more to the spot where he has been accustomed to recline. He may not come to my house any more. Henceforth he must hunt like other men.”

Then his wife said to Twentgowa, “Come along home and be a man like other men. You never will be a magician for you haven’t the sense to be one. You must be through with all wizardry.”

Twentgowa went home and was a changed man. He never went to the house of the mischief maker again. He became like other men and hunted for his family.

GENERAL NOTES.—This tale of Twentgowa (Big Duck) and the Mischief Maker is related as a humorous story. It is a consistent Seneca folk-tale and contains the customary magical elements.

It relates the adventures of a lazy man who would not hunt, and before whom appeared his “unseen friend,” the “Mischief Maker.” Twentgowa goes to the lodge of Mischief Maker and learns how to produce food by magic. The fact that he is told that he can do it but twice does not impress him. He receives the orenda, or magical ability and immediately demonstrates his power to “the friend.” Departing for his own home he grows skeptical and tries again in the woods. Succeeding, he returns home rejoicing and bragging of his power. When he attempts to demonstrate it, however, he makes a miserable failure and is driven out of the lodge. Again he returns to his friend and obtains magic for another episode, but repeats the experiments and in a final attempt fails. We are reminded, through Twentgowa’s experiences, of the man who said he frequently thought he had very funny jokes to relate until he told them to his wife, when he saw how flat they were. Just so, Twentgowa could never satisfy his wife that he possessed any magic.

The various episodes here given are without doubt only a few of the many that the story teller might have given. The final escapade, however, is the one that cured our hero, and the Mischief Maker relents.

There was a Thunderer named Hi’´noⁿ who often hovered about a village where he sought to attract the attention of a certain young woman. He was a very friendly man and would have nothing to do with witches. He hated all kinds of sorcery and his great chief up in the sky whom we call Grandfather Thunder hated all wizardry and sorcery too. All the Thunderers killed witches when they could find them at their evil work.

Now, this Hi’´noⁿ was very sure that he would win the girl he wanted and he visited her lodge at night and took a fire brand from the fire and sat down and talked with her, but she kept saying, “Not yet, perhaps by and by.”

Hi’´noⁿ was puzzled and resolved to watch for the coming of a rival. He told the girl’s father that he suspected some witch had cast a spell on her or that some wizard was secretly visiting her. So they both watched.

That same night a strange man came. He had a very fine suit of clothing, and the skin had a peculiar tan. It was very clean, as if washed so that it shone with a glitter. Over his back and down the center there was a broad stripe of black porcupine quills with a small diamond-shaped pattern. He had a long neck and small beady eyes, but he was graceful and moved without noise. He went directly to the lodge and taking a light sat at the girl’s bedside.

“Are you willing?” he asked her. “Come now, let us depart. I want you for my wife. I will take you to my house.”

The girl replied, “Not yet, I think someone is watching, but in three days I will be ready.”

The next day the girl worked very hard making a new dress and spent much time putting black porcupine quills upon it as an ornamentation. It was her plan to have a dress that would match her lover’s suit. Upon the third day she finished her work and went to bed early. Her apartment was at the right side of the door and it was covered by a curtain of buffalo skin that hung all the way down.

Hi’´noⁿ again called upon her, taking a light and seating himself back of the curtain. “I am willing to marry you,” he said. “When will you become my wife?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “I am not ready now to marry.”

“I think you are deceiving me,” answered Hi’´noⁿ, “for you have on your new dress and have not removed your moccasins.”

“You may go,” the girl told him, and he went away.

Soon there came the stranger and he too took a little torch and went behind the curtain. Soon the two came out together and ran down the path to the river.

“I shall take you now to my own tribe,” said the lover. “We live only a short way from here. We must go over the hill.”

So onward they went to their home, at length arriving at the high rocky shores of a lake. They stood on the edge of the cliff and looked down at the water.

“I see no village and no house,” complained the girl. “Where shall we go now? I am sure that we are pursued by the Thunderer.”

As she said this the Thunderer and the girl’s father appeared running toward them.

“It is dark down there,” said the lover. “We will now descend and find our house.”

So saying he took the girl by the waist and crawled down the cliff, suddenly diving with a splash into the lake. Down they went until they reached the foot of the cliff, when an opening appeared into which he swam with her. Quickly he swam upward and soon they were in a dimly lighted lodge. It was a strange place and filled with numerous fine things. All along the wall there were different suits of clothing.

“Look at all the suits,” said the lover, “when you have found one put it on.”

That night the couple were married and the next day the husband went away. “I shall return in three days,” he announced. “Examine the fine things here, and when you find a dress that you like put it on.”

For a long time the girl looked at the things in the lodge, but she was afraid to put on anything for everything had such a fishy smell. There was one dress, however, that attracted the girl and she was tempted to put it on. It was very long and had a train. It was covered all over with decorations that looked like small porcupine quills flattened out. There was a hood fastened to it and to the hood was fastened long branching antlers. She looked at this dress longingly but hung it up again with a sigh, for it smelled like fish and she was afraid.

In due time her husband returned and asked her if she had selected a suit. “I have found one that I admire greatly,” said she. “But I am afraid that I will not like it after I put it on. It has a peculiar fishy smell and I am afraid that it may bring evil upon me if I wear it.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed her husband, “If you wear that suit I will be greatly pleased. It is the very suit that I hoped you would select. Put it on, my wife, put it on, for then I shall be greatly pleased. When I return from my next trip I hope you will wear it for me.”

The next day the husband went away, again promising soon to return. Again the girl busied herself with looking at the trophies hanging in the lodge. She noticed that there were many suits like the one she had admired. Carefully she examined each and then it dawned upon her that these garments were the clothing of great serpents. She was horrified at the discovery and resolved to escape. As she went to the door she was swept back by a wave. She tried the back door but was forced into the lodge again by the water. Finally mustering all her courage she ran out of the door and jumped upward. She knew that she had been in a house under water. Soon she came to the surface but it was dark and there were thunder clouds in the sky. A great storm was coming up. Then she heard a great splashing and through the water she saw a monster serpent plowing his way toward her. Its eyes were fiercely blazing and there were horns upon its head. As it came toward her she scrambled in dismay up the dark slippery rocks to escape it. As the lightning flashed she looked sharply at the creature and saw that its eyes were those of her husband. She noticed in particular a certain mark on his eyes that had before strangely fascinated her. Then she realized that this was her husband and that he was a great horned serpent.

She screamed and sought to scale the cliff with redoubled vigor, but the monster was upon her with a great hiss. His huge bulk coiled to embrace her, when there was a terrific peal of thunder, a blinding flash, and the serpent fell dead, stricken by one of Hi’´noⁿ’s arrows.

The girl was about to fall when a strong arm grasped her and bore her away in the darkness. Soon she was back at her father’s lodge. The Thunderer had rescued her.

“I wanted to save you,” he said, “but the great horned serpent kept me away by his magic. He stole you and took you to his home. It is important that you answer me one question: did you ever put on any dress that he gave you? If you did you are no longer a woman but a serpent.”

“I resisted the desire to put on the garment,” she told him.

“Then,” said he, “you must go to a sweat lodge and be purified.”

The girl went to the women’s sweat lodge and they prepared her for the purification. When she had sweat and been purged with herbs, she gave a scream and all the women screamed for she had expelled two young serpents, and they ran down and slipped off her feet. The Thunderer outside killed them with a loud noise.

After a while the young woman recovered and told all about her adventure, and after a time the Thunderer came to her lodge and said, “I would like to take you now.”

“I will give you some bread,” she answered, meaning that she wished to marry him. So she gave him some bread which he ate and then they were married.

The people of the village were now all afraid that the lake would be visited by horned serpents seeking revenge but the Thunderer showed them a medicine bag filled with black scales, and he gave every warrior who would learn his song one scale, and it was a scale from the back of the horned serpent. He told them that if they wore this scale, the serpent could not harm them. So, there are those scales in medicine bundles to this day.

There was a certain young man who married a young woman. Now the young man had three sisters who were very jealous of the young wife, because of her beauty and skill, and because of their brother’s affection for her. And so it was that the trio resolved to devise a plot and destroy the young wife.

It was the season when huckleberries are ripe and the sisters had invited the wife to take a canoe trip with them to a small island that arose from the middle of a large lake. Huckleberries were reported to grow there in abundance. Suspecting nothing, the wife mended her baskets and started to prepare food for the excursion.

“Oh no food is needed!” exclaimed the older sister. “We do not need a lunch where so many berries grow. Our baskets will soon be filled and we will return long before our hunger comes, meanwhile we can feast on berries.”

The four women entered their canoe and paddled to the island far out in the lake. When at last they had beached their canoe and turned to look about, they found the island covered with bushes laden with berries. The sisters seemed anxious to go farther inland but the wife said that she deemed it wiser to stop where they were and pick, thus making it unnecessary to carry heavy baskets a greater distance to the canoe. So, stooping over she commenced to strip the berries from the bushes. This is exactly what the sisters wished as it gave them an opportunity to leave her behind, and, grumbling at her laziness, they disappeared in the bushes.

The wife worked diligently and soon had her large pack basket full to the brim. Lifting it to her back and throwing the burden strap (gŭsha´ā‘) over her forehead, she walked slowly back to the shore expecting to find her sisters-in-law waiting for her. To her horror, however, though she searched in every direction, there was no sign of canoe or women. The situation then dawned upon her, and discouraged beyond all measure, she sat down on the sand and gave vent to her emotions by a burst of tears.

She was alone, a solitary human creature upon a far-away isle. She knew not what evil ghost might be lurking there to transform her to a crow or a wolf. Perhaps he might destroy her in the darkness and feast upon the body. These and other fearful thoughts tortured her mind until at last, as the sun sank low, she lay down exhausted by grieving, and slept. Far into the night she slumbered. Time sped by and she was awakened by a whoop upon the waters. Sitting up she looked out over the lake where she heard a clamor of voices and a multitude of dancing lights. Soon the lights appeared upon the shore and shortly were arranged in a circle on the island.

Creeping up to a log that lay close to the circle of lights, she saw a company of creatures gathered in council. The beings seemed like men and yet more like animals. Sometimes when she looked they were beasts and then again men. One began to speak.

He said, “Now this woman has been deceived by her sisters-in-law and we are met to plan how to save her. She must be taken from this island for the berries are poisoned and if she dies not from them the sĕgowĕnota (singing wizard) will enchant her.”

For some time the speaker talked and finally asked, “Who now will carry her basket to the land?”

A large tall being with a deep bass voice answered quickly, “I will!”

“No, you may not, your pride is before your courage,” said the chief speaker.

A huge bulky creature arose and called out, “I will save her!”

“No, you are too terrible in form and would frighten her,” was the reply.

Several more volunteered but all were rejected until a very tall slender being arose and in a clear ringing voice said he would use his utmost power to save the unfortunate young wife if only permitted.

“You are the chosen one!” exclaimed the chief. “You are one close to the (knowledge of) people.”

The council adjourned, the voices gradually died away and the lake was dotted again with flickering lights. The young wife crept back to her bed, half afraid and yet hopeful of the morrow.

Before sunrise a voice called from the water, and, starting up the young woman ran to the beach and saw what at first appeared to be a monstrous canoe, but looking again she saw a great serpent from whose head arose proud curving horns like a buffalo’s.

The creature lifted his head from the waters and called.

“I have come to rescue you. Trust me and make your seat upon my head between my ‘feathers.’ But first break twelve osiers and use them upon me should I lag in my swimming.”

The girl took her seat upon the creature’s head and laid her whips in her lap. With an undulating motion his long glistening body moved through the ripples but the wife sat high and not a drop of water spattered upon her.

As her mysterious rescuer journeyed his way he told her that he must hasten with all speed as he belonged to the race of underwater people whom the mighty He’´noⁿ hates.^[35] Even now the scouts (small black clouds) might have spied him and be scudding through the sky bringing after them a host of thunder clouds. Nor was his an idle surmise, for scarcely had he spoken when a small black cloud appeared and sped with great rapidity toward them. Instantly the wind commenced to blow and the great serpent called back to his charge, “Whip me, Oh whip me! He’´noⁿ has discovered us and is driving onward his warriors!”

The frightened girl lashed the monster with all her strength until nearly all her withes were broken. In the distance the thunder began to roll and soon again in loud claps. The dark clouds piled thicker and came faster. The great serpent in his wild speed was lashing the black waters into a foam that flew through the wind and covered the lake. There was an ear-splitting crash. The Thunder Spirit was coming nearer. The gleaming arrow he had thrown had riven a floating oak tree. The young woman trembled beneath the dark cloud-banked sky and feared. The rumble of thunder was deafening. He’´noⁿ was casting his javelins faster. A great sheet of fire flashed from the heavens and lit up the lake and the shore. The thunder crashed and cracked and rumbled. In the awful fury of the tempest the great serpent cried in terror: “Oh use your lashes! Oh spur me onward! My strength is failing! Scourge me! I must save you and if I do, oh will you not burn tobacco upon the shore twice each year for me? Oh lash me more!”

A blinding flash of fire shot from the rumbling clouds and buried itself in the water at the side of the serpent.

“Jump now!” cried the creature, “He’´noⁿ has his range and I must dive.”

Hope faded from the young wife’s heart. How much better would death have been in the midst of the waters or by the lightning’s stroke than within sight of the shore. With a cry of agonized despair she slid from the head of her rescuer and sank into the turbulent waters. The horned monster with a booming sound plunged beneath the lake and disappeared.

The light broke through the clouds and the storm began to retreat. The young woman struggled with the swirling waters. Her esteem for her would-be-deliverer sank to a bitter hatred for he had abandoned her to perish. Her tired limbs could no longer battle with the lake. Her feet sank but to her unspeakable surprise they fell firm on the sand. Wading forward in the semi-darkness she came safely out on the shore. Walking inland she sat down beneath a tree to recover from exhaustion and fright.

The storm sped away growling that it had failed to slay Djodi´kwado‘ the monster serpent.

The young wife arose, wet and bedraggled, but happy that she was safe again. Now her heart was full of gratitude to her hard-pressed deliverer.

Ahead of her, wandering aimlessly, with hanging head and melancholy mien, was a man. His body was drenched with rain and his spirit with heavy sorrow.

The woman neared him and called, “Husband, Oh husband, is it truly you?”

The man turned with a shout of joy and answered, “Wife, oh wife, returned living, is it you?”

The drenched and storm-bruised couple joyfully turned homeward. The three sisters were there. “Begone now and forever,” said the husband.

Then were the couple happy, and envy and jealousy found no place with them. So here the story ends and so it is spoken.