The Assiniboine

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ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS

OF THE

American Tluseum of Natural

History.

Vol. IV, Part I.

THE ASSI N I BOI N E.

ROBERT H. LOW1E.

NEW YORK:

Published by Order of the Trustees. November, 1909.

/

ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS

OF THE

American Museum of Natural History

Vol. IV, Part I.

THE ASSINIBOINE. By Robert H. Lowie. CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION .

I. ETHNOLOGY .

History .

Material Culture .... Hunting .

Food .

Industries ....

Dwellings .

Transportation .... Dress and Personal Decoration . Amusements .

Art .

Decorative Art .... Music .

War ...••• Social Organization and Customs Social Organization .

Terms of Relationship Natal Observances Names .

Menstruation . . . ■

Marriage .

Death .

Berdaches .

Religious Life •

Shamanism .

Individual Revelations Ghosts .

Sacred Pipe •

1

Page.

5

10 10 - 12 12

14

15 15 17 19 19 26 28 33 33 36 38

38

39 39

41

42 42 42 47

50

51

7A2G3

2

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

White Buffaloes . . . * • • • - • • .51

Sweat-lodge 52

Ceremonial Buffalo Chase ........ 52

Miscellaneous Beliefs and Customs ....... 55

Ceremonial Organization ......... 56

Horse Dance .... ...... 57

Sun Dance ........... 58

Fool Dance ........... 62

Grass Dance .......... 66

Other Dances ........... 70

The Age Societies of the Plains Indians . 75

II. MYTHOLOGY . 99

Comparative ............ 99

Trickster Cycle . . . . . . . . . .100

Miscellaneous Tales . 134

1. Teze'xnin ........... 134

2. The Poor Boy . 138

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister . . . . . . .139

4. The Deserted Children . . . . . . . .142

5. The Two Brothers ......... 145

6. The Underground Journey ....... 147

7. Potiphar ........... 150

8. The Son-in-law’s Tests ........ 154

9. The Evil Parents-in-law ........ 157

10. Adventures of Two Boys ........ 159

11. The Lecherous Sister . . . . . . . .160

12. The Witch . . . . . . . . . .162

13. The Faeces as Suitor ......... 162

14. The Giants .......... 164

15. The Old Husband and the Young Lover ..... 166

16. Lodge-Boy and Thrown- A way’s Father . . . . .168

17. The Thunder-Bird . . . . . . . . .169

18. The Women who married Stars ...... 171

19. Ball-Girl . 174

20. Morning-Star . . . . . . . . . .176

21. The Seven Stars . . . . . . . . .177

22. The Dipper .......... 177

23. The Bear-Woman ......... 179

24. Burr-Woman .......... 180

25. The Snake-Man ...... ... 181

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches ....... 183

27. The Comrades’ Pranks ........ 184

28. Sharpened-Leg ......... 186

29. The Magic Springs ......... 187

30. The Buffaloes’ Ward . 187

31. The Buffalo-Boy ......... 189

32. The Grizzly and his Ward . 190

33. The Grateful Bear . 191

34. The Young Bear . ....... 191

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

3

35. The Bear-Wife

36. Snake and Bear-Woman

37. The Beaver-Man

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife .

39. The VYlf-Wife ....

40. The Antelope-WToman

41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk

42. Frog ......

43. The Crane and the Otter .

44. Wis'kedidin' ....

45. The Loon anti the Bald-headed Eagle

46. The WTolverene and the Wolves

47. Skunk .....

48. The Blind Dupe

49. The False Comrade .

50. The Wakan' Girl

51. The Bad Wife ....

52. The Woman Stolen by the Buffalo

53. The Abducted Wife .

54. The Reformed Adulteress

55. The Game-Thief

56. The Meeting in a Cave

57. The Gambling Contests

58. Lesbian Love ....

59. Equus Stuprator

60. Canis Stuprator

61. Lignum Mentulae Vice Fungens

62. The Two Hunters

63. The Goose and her Lover .

64. Mentula Loquens

65. The Punished Lover’s Revenge

66. Big-Frog .

67. The Badger ....

68. A Hunting Adventure

69. The Horse-Thief

70. The White Buffalo

71. The Four Trappers

72. The Rivals . . . .,

73. The Bear and the Buffalo .

74. Snow .....

75. The Offended Feet

76. Two-Faces ....

77. First Meeting with the Cree

78. First Meeting with Whites

79. The Punitive Expedition .

80. War Tales .... ABSTRACTS OF MYTHS ....

BIBLIOGRAPHY .

APPENDIX .

192

193

194

195 200 200 201 201 201 202 202

203

204

204

205

206 210 213

215

216

217

218 218

223

224 224

224

225 225

225

226 226 227 227

227

228 228 229 229

229

230 230

230

231

232 234 239 260 263

4

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural llistonj. [\ ol. IV,

Stoney Texts . Assiniboine Texts .

263

265

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Plates.

I. Woman Wringing a Skin.

II. Dog Travois Assiniboine Couple.

III. Fool-Dancers

Text Figures.

1. Horn Spoon .....

2. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian)

3. Cup-and-ball Game ....

4. Armlet ...

5. Moccasin Decoration

6. Moccasin Decoration

7. Parfleche Decoration

8. Decoration of a Stoney Tambourine

9. Naval Amulet. Bag

10. Bag .

11. Designs on a Drum ....

12. Saddle Ornament ....

13. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian)

14. Bag for War-Medicine

15. Fool-Dance Mask ....

16. Fool-Dance Mask, Front .

17. Fool-Dance Mask. Back .

Page

13

16

19

20 21 22

23

24

25

26

27

28 29 32

65

66 66

INTRODUCTION.

In the summer of 1907 I spent about seven weeks among the Stoney Assiniboine of Morley, Alberta, as part of a Museum expedition to the Northern Plains. Though very much of the ancient life had become com¬ pletely effaced under the influence of missionary teaching, I was able to collect a reasonably large body of mythological material. On my return from a trip to the Chipewyan in the following year, it was deemed advisable to spend the month of August among the Assiniboine at Ft. Belknap, Mon¬ tana, in order to enlarge the inadequate conception of Assiniboine ethnology obtained from their Canadian kinsmen. Beyond ascertaining the essential similarity of the folk-lore of the two sections, relatively little attention was given to mythology in 190S, the main object being to secure notes on social and ceremonial organization. To these is prefixed a necessarily brief account of the history and material culture of the tribe, largely reconstructed from the records of older writers. While a longer stay would have helped to fill up many lacunae, especially in the treatment of games, of the sun- dance and the horse-dance, it is hoped that even the imperfect account here given will be useful as a contribution to the comparative study of the North¬ ern Plains Indians.

The values of letters employed to render Assiniboine sounds are given in the following table:

a, e, i, o, u

a e i o u

n

E .

C .

j .

tc .

dj .

x .

d .

the continental vowels whispered final vowels 1 2 nasalization of vowel obscure vowel English sh French j in jour English ch in church

o

English j in judge German ch in acht A medial, not English d 3

1 Observed only at Ft. Belknap.

2 n takes the place of the Santee d; at Morley, however, 1 believe 1 heard the true sonant

in ade', father.

G Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

»

r . related to cj

p p’ . explosives

jj . guttural n.

I am not certain whether or not there are medials corresponding to tc-dj, c-j, k-g. As for the labials, I am rather inclined to doubt the occurrence of the surd than of the medial; in such words as ti'bi, kscl'ba, there is certainly a substitution of the sonant for the Santee surd.

New York,

November, 1909.

Robert H. Lowie.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

7

I. ETHNOLOGY.

History.

Linguistically, the Assiniboine form a member of the Dakota branch of the Siouan stock. They are mentioned as a distinct tribe with the Winne¬ bago, Sioux, Illinois and Potawatomi in the Jesuit Relation for 1640/ and are said by other authorities to have originated from the Wazi-kute (Pine- Shooter) band of the Yanktonai. The Dakota name for them is given as Hoha or Hohe; they call themselves Nako'ta,1 2 while at Ft. Belknap the generic term Sioux (in its popular acceptation) is translated Ihan'k-tonwan. The traditional reason for their separation from the Dakota is, according to De Smet, a quarrel between two women over the apportionment of a buffalo.3 The unhistorical character of this tale is proved by the occurrence of identical traditions among neighboring tribes.4 Keating’s informants alleged family feuds arising from the seduction of a woman as the cause of the schism.5 In the middle of the seventeenth century the Assiniboine seem to have inhabited the neighborhood of the Lake of the Woods and Lake Nipigon. Thence they moved northwest towards Lake Winnipeg, where they came in contact with the Cree, and continued their westward migration as far as the Assiniboine and Saskatchewan rivers. De Smet’s “Assiniboine of the Forest” are even said to have roamed about the sources of the Saskatche¬ wan and the Athabaska and to have been seldom seen on the plains.6 Divisions of the tribe were met by the older and the younger Henry, Lewis and Clark, Franklin, Long, and Maximilian. The younger Henry defines the Assiniboine country as beginning at the Hair Hills, near Red River, running west along the Assiniboine, from there to the junction of the northern and southern branches of the Saskatchewan, up the former branch to Ft. Vermilion, then extending due south to Battle River and southeast to the Missouri, down the Missouri almost as far as the Mandan villages, and ultimately back to the Hair Hills again.7

Since their separation from the Dakota, the Assiniboine have been most intimately connected with the Cree. The two tribes are constantly men-

1 Jesuit Relations , Vol. 18, p. 230.

2 The Stoneys also like to call themselves Hopa'-maksa (Head-cutters).

2 De Smet, p. 1142.

4 The same story was told to the writer among the Crow to account for their separation

from the Hidatsa. Cf. Matthews, p. 39.

6 Keating, p. 388-389. Clark, p. 51.

6 De Smet, p. 509.

2 Coues, p. 516.

8

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. I\ ,

tioned together in some of the earlier literature,1 and the Canadian Stoneys, at all events, have adopted some cultural features from the Cree and are frequently able to converse in, or at least to understand, the Cree language. Of course, the relations of the two tribes were not uniformly amicable, as is shown by Assiniboine war-traditions. The westernmost Stoneys sometimes crossed the mountains to fight the Shuswap and Kootenay. At the time of Lewis and Clark’s expedition, the Assiniboine were in close contact with the village tribes of the Missouri, and horse-raids frequently occasioned local disturbances.2 They were also frequently at war with the Dakota, Crow and Blackfoot.3 In 1823, Renville estimated the number of Assiniboine at 2S000 (7000 warriors, 3000 lodges), — making it nearly equal to that of all the other members of the Dakota group combined.4 Less extravagant estimates of the same period give figures varying from S000 to 10000. Heavy losses were undoubtedly sustained during the smallpox epidemic of 1836, though the percentage of those who perished is uncertain. The Assiniboine now within the United States live on the reservations at Ft. Belknap and Ft. Peck. Their principal location in Canada is the Stoney reserve, Morley, Alberta; smaller bands are sprinkled over various other reservations (shared with the Cree) in Alberta and Saskatchewan. The total number both north and south of the forty-ninth parallel is placed by Curtis at 2090, 1217 in the United States and 873 in Canada.5

The statement has been repeatedly made that the Assiniboine probably separated from the Dakota only a short period before their discovery by the whites. The sole basis for this theory is the similarity of Assiniboine to the other Dakota dialects. Thus Riggs says: “Their language differs less from the Dakota in general, than the dialects of the Dakota do from each other.”6 This statement obviously expresses the author’s conviction of an extremely slight dialectic variation of Assiniboine from the Dakota norm. For the detection of such differences as exist, it would be manifestly preferable to compare Assiniboine with Yanktonai, but as there are not, to my knowledge, any published texts in this dialect, it will be necessary to make the compari¬ son with \ ankton. Before undertaking this task, however, it is necessary to point out that the speech of the Stoneys of Alberta is by no means identical with that of the Montana Assiniboine. Irrespective of the slight infiltration

1 E. g., ibid., pp. 132, 152, 203, 244, 250, 570.

2 Lewis and Clark, I, pp. 241, 269, 271; V, p. 329.

3 Besides the sources already quoted, the following may be consulted with regard to Assini¬ boine history, habitat, and tribal relationships:— Riggs, pp. 160, 164, 1S8; Handbook, pp. 102-104; Hayden, pp. 379-391; Margry, I, p. 97, VI, pp. 19, 21, 22, 51, S2, 496, 517, 568, 610; Jesuit Relations, Vol. 44, pp. 246-249, Vol. 54, p. 193, Vol. 66, pp. 107-111, Vol. 68, p. 293.

4 Keating, I, 380.

6 Curtis, III, p. 133.

6 Riggs, p. 188.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

9

of Cree words into the speech of the Canadian branch, more serious differ¬ ences are revealed even by the cursory linguistic notes taken by the writer, as may be illustrated by the texts in the Appendix.

While it is obvious from these texts that the differences between Stoney and Assiniboine are slight, their existence is indubitable and is confirmed by some additional material. It appears that the invariable quotative particle of the Stoneys is -haute (- hanc ), while among the Assiniboine it is -hvActa ( hucta ). The customary connective of Stoney sentences is etei'n, the Assini¬ boine form is je'tcen. Both branches avoid a bare predicative statement, but the oral period of the Stoneys is -tc, that of the Assiniboine -no. Thus, the Stoneys say, muda'-kta-tc, I shall drink; yazu'ni-tc, she was sick; gisni'- ic, she is well. Assiniboine forms showing the corresponding period are: miye' wagl'atca ade'-wa'ye-no, I have the Thunder-bird for my father; mitci'-kte-kte-no, I shall kill myself; ao'kbaza-no, it is dark.1 the Stoneys substitute in for Dakota un, we; thus, inkte'bi, we kill; ihgu'bitc, we come; inge'haga'-bite, they laugh at us; inmba'his, let us gather. There are Stoney words not used by (though partly known to) the Assiniboine. thus, the Stoney word for “bear,” oji'nja is recognized only as a distinctively Stoney term at Ft. Belknap ; the Montana equivalent for patci'din or umpa', elk, is xexa'ga ; the sun-dance is called walii'amba wagi'djibi at Morley, and wd'tijax at Ft. Belknap; the Assiniboine term for “seven” is iyu'ena, while the Stoneys use a slight variation of the Dakota form, cago'win. Phoneti¬ cally, I never observed the whispering of final vowels at Morley, though this phenomenon was familiar to me from having heard Shoshone. At Ft. Belknap, I noticed this repeatedly, e. g., Inkton'm\ ade'na, atgu'gu. Here I also recorded a tendency less frequently observed in Alberta, viz., to obscure or omit y between two vowels, e. g. e'agu, he takes; tio'ba, door. On the other hand, an obscure vowel separating Assiniboine consonants is some¬ times ignored in Stoney; e. g., ya'mEni, ya'mni, three. The Stoney equiva¬ lent for Dakota g in the word wana'gi I did not analyze accurately, but never once recorded a trill, while I find r repeatedly in my Ft. Belknap notes.

So far as I am aware, the only \ ankton material published is one text printed in Riggs’s grammar.2 Comparison of this text with the material in the Appendix reveals certain phonetic differences. For the surd p in the plural ending both Assiniboine divisions employ the sonant, e. g., kocka -in instead of kockapi. Corresponding substitutions ol medials or sonants are made for k and t, e. g., darlga great; o'da, many.3 Riggs’s d (the English d)

1 It is, of course, probable that Stoney tc and Assiniboine no correspond, each to one of the two forms, tee (ce) and ye do, employed in \ ankton.

• Riggs, pp. 105-108.

3 I have a suspicion that sev to be medials.

eral of the surds in the texts would, on closer analysis, turn out

10

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

seems to be regularly superseded by n in* both dialects, e. g., kona' , friend; ne, this; one', he seeks; kna'-huncta, he went home, it is said. A noteworthy point of difference is the apparent absence of both the definite and the in¬ definite article, the place of the latter being taken by the numeral wajin' and of the former — when expressed — by presumably demonstrative forms. The sentence-connective unkan', which appears regularly in Riggs’s tale does not seem to occur in the Assiniboine dialects,1 neither does the conjunction lea appear in my notes. In Dakota, quotations are regularly marked off by the initial expression lieya' and a final eya' . In Stoney, the introductory quotative seems to be lacking; in Assiniboine there is usually a prefatory jedji'a or cea', ( jea '), and both divisions employ a final edjia' or eya' (ea').

All the differences noted, both between the two sub-dialects and between Assiniboine-Stoney taken as a unit and Yankton, may seem minute. Never¬ theless, in estimating their significance, it should be remembered that all the linguistic notes taken were obtained incidentally and that only a single Canadian reservation was visited; it is readily conceivable that an investi¬ gation of the Stoney spoken at Lake St. Anne, near Edmonton, or in the province of Saskatchewan, would yield additional deviations of a sub-dialectic character. That the Assiniboine have developed, since their secession from the Dakota, at least two sub-dialects,2 certainly seems to indicate that their separation from the \ anktonai does not date from yesterday. At the same time the question raised by Powell,3 whether the speech of the Assiniboine represents a distinct language of the Siouan stock, must be answered nega¬ tively, as the dialectic variations do not transcend the limits of mutual hv-y telligibility. Before, however, we possess some data on the Yanktonai dialect and on the approximate rate of linguistic differentiation among the Dakota generally, it would be vain to fix, even tentatively, the time of the separation.

Material Culture.

Hunting. Buffalo were either hunted by the whole tribe in the great ceremonial chase (wana’sabi), or, like other game, by small parties and single hunters (wata'pabi). In the tribal chase, the herd was either sur¬ rounded by the hunters, or driven into a large pen (unxpa'jaxa) constructed with the aid of the entire community. The latter method was especially characteristic of the Assiniboine. At the foot, or on the declivity, of rising

1 I believe I once heard it in the narrative of one of my informants, but it does not occur in any of my recorded texts.

2 T liese are recognized as such by the two groups in question. Before a recent govern¬ mental prohibition, visits from Morley to Ft. Belknap and vice versa were not infrequent

3 "Note by the Director,” prefacing Riggs’s A Dakota-English Dictionary , p. VII.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

11

land, stakes were driven into the ground to the height of about four or five

feet, forming a circular enclosure of about an acre in area, and the interven¬ ing spaces were filled up with logs, dry boughs and rocks. Small openings were left to allow dogs to feed upon the abandoned carcasses of the bulls. From the sides of the entrance two barriers diverged up the inclined plane and were extended for a considerable distance. In the centre of the pen there was planted a medicine-pole with charms suspended from it.1 After the favorable report of scouts sent out by the medicine-man in charge of the hunt to reconnoitre the country for bison herds, foot soldiers hid along the oblique lines walling the passage to the pen, or continued them by spreading at distances of from ten to fifteen feet from the extremities of the fences. The two lines were further prolonged by mounted men, or, if necessary, by women and children, until the farthest guard was about two or three miles from the pen, and nearly as far from the corresponding member of the othei line. One, or more men disguised in a buffalo robe and wearing buffalo horn headdresses were next dispatched to approach the herd of buffalo, and, by imitating the cry of a calf,2 to decoy them into the funnel-shaped passage. As soon as the bison had passed them, the horsemen cut off the retreat in the rear, and drove the animals towards the circulai enclosure . The decoyer rushed into the pen and out at the other side by an opening left for that purpose. The buffalo followed, sometimes breaking their legs in jumping in, as the descent might be six or eight feet and stumps were left standing there. Those uninjured began to circle around inside. If an
attempted to run out, skins were shaken at the entrance to scare them back. Only if some managed to make their escape, were guns fired; otherwise, the ensnared bison were dispatched with arrows. In the hunt witnessed by De Smet six hundred bison were captured in this way.

As to the apportionment of the buffalo killed in a tribal hunt, accounts vary. According to the older Henry,3 all the tongues were presented to the chief, and together with the hearts and shoulder-lumps were stowed away for feasts. De Smet 4 states that the skins and meat were divided among the families in proportion to their size. According to one of my informants, the drivers were entitled to the fattest animals. According to the younger Henry, each man identified his game by the property mark on his arrow, while the master of the pound divided the animals, giving each tent an equal

i Cf the story ot the Waka"' Girl. p. 206. The account in the text is based partly on field- notes, but principally on De Smet’s (pp. 1027-1032), the older Henry’s (p. 295 f.) and the younger Henry’s (Coues, pp. 518-520) descriptions. Franklin (pp. 100-101) describes a Cree buffalo-

P°U"dThis mode of luring the game, was, of course, not restricted to the time of the tribal

hunt. De Smet, p. 658.

3 Henry, p. 295.

« De Smet, p. 1031.

12

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Nistory. [Vol. IV,

share without reserving any for himself.' Everyone was, however, obliged to send him a certain portion, as the ceremonies of the chase were performed in his lodge.1

Food. W hile the meat of large game formed the principal food, vegetable products, such as the pomme blanche, were also sought. In early historical times, the Assiniboine seem to have gathered wild rice ( fausse avoine ).2 The porcupine is said to have been largely depended on by the Assiniboine of the Forest, and, in case of necessity, pulverized insects dried in the sun, roots, seeds, and the inner bark of the cypress served to eke out their fare.3 The northern Stoneys are also said to have partly subsisted on fish.4

When men were on the warpath, they dug a circular excavation, which was lined with a skin pegged to the bottom of the pit. Holes were cut along the rim of the hide, and stakes were run through them. Then water and meat were put in, while other men heated rocks. First a rock with a raw- hide loop around it was used to stir the water, then red-hot stones were dropped in until the food was boiled.0 The women are said never to have employed this method of cooking; with them, the normal method of prepara¬ tion was to roast meat on a spit planted obliquely over the fire. When necessary, the food was spread out bv means of horizontal pins. Some¬ times it was thrown directly on the embers. Earthen vessels were formerly made and used, but, according to a Ft. Belknap authority, only by men. t he food was served on plates, carved by either sex, of box-elder or willow wood. A kind of soup was prepared by boiling the blood of an animal together with berries. Another kind of pottage is described by De Smet. “They commence by rubbing their hands with grease, and collecting in them the blood of the animal, which they boil with water; finally, they fill the kettle with fat and hashed meat. But — hashed with the teeth. Often half a dozen old women are occupied in this mincing operation for hours; mouthful after mouthful is masticated, and thus passes from the mouth into the cauldron. 0 Horn spoons (Fig. 1) were used for dipping up soup.

In the w inter, water was sometimes obtained by hanging a buffalo paunch filled with snow in the smoke of a fire. The melted snow was drawn off by removing a plug stopping the lower opening of the vessel.7 In the olden days, birch bark (tanba/) receptacles were employed.

Industries. Woodwork was confined to the fashioning of bows, arrows,

1

2

3

4

5

6 7

Coues, p. 520. For the ceremonial side of the buffalo hunt, see p 52 Jesuit Relations , Vol. 54 (1669-70), p. 193.

De Smet, p. 511.

Maclean, p. 25.

Cf. Oatlin, I, p. 54.

De Smet, p. 511.

Henry, p. 291.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

13

bowls, etc. Earthen pots (manka'-tcex) were once used, and pipe-bowls were sometimes manufactured of clay. Some of the pipes had red pipe- stone bowls with stems about four feet in length. In Montana, at all events, a black stone or clay bowl seems to have been common.1 Of the pipes of the Canadian division, Sir Daniel Wilson writes:2 “Among the Assiniboine Indians a material is used in pipe manufacture altogether peculiar to them. It is a fine marble, much too hard to admit of minute carving, but taking a high polish. This is cut into pipes of graceful form, and made so extremely thin as to be nearly transparent, so that when lighted the glowing tobacco shines through, and presents a singular appearance when in use at night or in a dark lodge. Another favorite material employed by the Assiniboine Indians is a coarse species of jasper, also too hard to admit of elaborate ornamentation. This is also cut into various simple, but tasteful designs, executed chiefly by the slow and laborious process of rubbing it down with other stones. The choice of the material for fashion-

Fig. 1. (50-2007). Horn Spoon. Length, 30 cm.

ing the favorite pipe is by no means invariably guided by the facilities which the location of the tribe affords. A suitable stone for such a purpose will be picked up and carried hundreds of miles. Mr. Kane informs me that in coming down (sic) the Athabasca River, when drawing near its source in the Rocky Mountains, he observed his Assiniboine guides select the favorite bluish jasper from among the water-worn stones in the bed of the river to carry home for the purpose of pipe manufacture, although they were then fully five hundred miles from their lodges.”

The preparation of skins persists to the present day. In dressing a skin, a woman first removes the flesh with a flat stone or bone. Both sides are rubbed with grease and heated over a fire. The brains and liver of an animal, which have been preserved with sage-brush leaves, are boiled, set aside to cool, mashed, and spread over the skin, which is then folded up and left overnight in some damp place. The next morning the skin is

1 Henry, p. 284-285. Maximilian, I, p. 444.

2 Quoted by Maclean, pp. 25-26.

14

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yol. IV,

spread for examination, and dipped in water for another night. The fol¬ lowing morning it is wrung out (Plate i). When wrenched dry, it is hung up, head topmost. The fleshy side is once more scraped with a rock or bone, then a sinew is attached in a horizontal position, and the hide is laid across and pulled back and forth. A final smoothing with rough bones or stones completes this part of the process. For smoking, the skin is sewed up, and the lower end is pegged down around a smouldering fire until tanned to the desired shade.

Dwellings. The woman who wished to put up a new lodge invited her assistants to a feast, and was obliged to give liberal compensation to the cutter of the tent-cover. The Assiniboine employ the following technical terms in connection with the erection of a lodge.

O'zipa'bi . pitching a lodge.

win'gaxpa'bi . taking down a lodge.

tocu' . lodge-pole.

tocii'da . door-post (one of the first three poles).

win'imbaha . poles regulating the smoke- vent.

win . lodge-cover.

win'ihnbuspe . peg.

wi'ncinanka . door-pins.

winin'djack . the loop passing around the pegs.

winin'djack inin'axpe . the cover of the top of the pole bearing the win.

inti'tcidjack . the cord used to tie the poles together.

tocu' momox'nok . the holes in the ground for inserting the poles.

tio'ba . the door.

tio'ba-tca'ke . the part of the cover stepped over in entering.

wi'hu'da . the lower edge of the lodge-cover.

wixu'ba . the cover-flaps.

wixu'ba oga'xpi'neje . the part flapped back on the top of the win'imbaha.

winsl'tc . four triangular patches of buffalo skin in the lodge-cover.

tucu'daxga . the part of the lodge bounded on one side by a door-post,

on the other by the nearest pole, tcatku' . the rear of the lodge.

tl'agasa(m) . either side of the lodge flanking the tcatku'.

tice' . the smoke-hole.

According to Lewis and ('lark,1 the Assiniboine tie together four poles in erecting their lodges. This, however, does not accord with the result of repeated inquiries both at Worley and at Ft. Belknap. The Assiniboine and Stoney lodge is nowadays certainly erected on a three-pole foundation.2 The two tcatku' poles are laid on the ground parallel to each other and then

1 Lewis and Clark, I, p. 310.

^ This also seems to be the Teton style. Curtis (III, p. 24) speaks of four poles being fastened together, but his plate (p. 104) shows a three-pole foundation.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

15

on top of the tocu'da. The three poles are raised with the left hand, one end of the cord is thrown over the tocu'da and the two rear poles, then the string passes below the latter, comes up on the right side of the door-post, and crosses again as before until finally tied. In a model tipi, the knot was at the right of the tocu'da for one seated in the tcatku'. In erecting this lodge, the woman observed the following order. The fourth pole was placed left of the tocu'da, forming the second door-post. The fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth poles followed in sinistral order. The tenth pole was placed at the right of the tocu'da, and the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth followed in dextral order. The fourteenth pole, that is, the sixth pole to the right of the tocu'da, the tocu'da being counted as the first, leaned outside against the two original tcatku' poles. The cord was then wrapped around all the poles except the last, and attached to a peg driven into the ground near the center of the lodge. Finally, the fifteenth pole was inserted between the tcatku' posts, and served for the attachment of the cover. All the poles were of pine-wood.

The Assiniboine of Ft. Belknap used backrests similar to those in use among other Plains tribes. The Stoney form, however, deviates from the ordinary type. Six willow sticks, about four feet in length, have their tops tied together and resting against a lodge-pole, while the diverging butt-ends are planted on the ground. The larger part of this simple frame is covered with a skin, against which the inmate of the lodge leans his back. The lodges are floored with spruce needles. Several layers of these support the bedding.

Transportation. Each family had from six to twelve dogs, which could carry from thirty to fifty pounds apiece. The frame of the Assiniboine dog- travois was circular (Plate n).1 Both from their own accounts and those of early travelers,2 the Assiniboine do not appear to have had as many horses as other Plains tribes. Rivers were crossed in bull-boats.3

Dress and Personal Decoration. The ancient dress of the Assiniboine does not seem to have possessed any distinctive features; older writers point out its similarity to that of the Plaint tribes and the Cree. The men wore round, white wolf-skin caps, feathers, or a skin band for headgear. Winter shirts were decorated with a rosette in the front and back4 (Fig. 2), while the sleeves were adorned with human hair. A modern gala shirt is shown in Plate n. The outer seam of the leggings had an embroidered

1 The younger Henry also mentions a hoop, not a square, frame. (Coues, 518). Cf. Maximilian’s Atlas, fig. XVI. Franklin, speaking of a band of Cree in immediate contact with the Assiniboine, also mentions the lioop-travois (p. 100).

2 Maximilian, I, p. 443. De Smet, p. 1027

2 Humfreville, p. 220.

• Vid. p. 25.

■1 nthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History

Fig. 2. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian)

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

17

stripe of colored quills trimmed with human or horsehair. It is interesting to note that my informants remember an older type of unsoled moccasin, ap¬ parently resembling the form once common to the Blackfoot and Shoshone.1 A pair of Cree cut was seen at Morley. The women’s dress was of mountain-goat skin and ornamented with porcupine quills and elk teeth. The lower edge of their garments was decorated with bells and deer-hoofs. Married women allowed their hair to grow at random and even to hang over their eyes. The men sometimes wore their hair very long, sometimes splic¬ ing together several lengths. Some tied it behind in a thick queue and cut it short in front; others wore it short, having it scarcely hanging down the shoulders. Ear-beads and bear-claw necklaces were common. The eyes were surrounded by daubings of white clay. The rest of the face was painted red or reddish-brown, and blackened to indicate the killing of an enemy. The hair was often smeared with clay in front. Two parallel black stripes were tattooed from the neck down the breast. A Jesuit ac¬ count speaks of lines pricked on the bodies of the natives with pointed bones and filled with charcoal, representing serpents, birds, and various other beings. The Stoneys speak of a whitish stone, be'ndjada'bin, being once used for looking-glasses. Fans were of eagle feathers.2

Amusements.

The following games were enumerated by a middle-aged Assiniboine:

1. Hanbe,tcumbin°, the hand-game. This game has been recently revived by the Ft. Belknap people, and is played by a society, generally on Friday evenings. The buttons are two pairs of bones, or pieces of cherry- wood. Instead of indicating the guesses with the fingers, the players use a ceremonial wand, from one to one and a half feet long, which is trimmed with feathers, wrapped with otter-skin, and has an attachment of bells. From seven to twelve tallv-sticks are employed. Before the game, the owner of the pointer gives a feast to his fellow-members. Admission to the society is free, and both men and women may join. There are four players at a time, men alternating with, but apparently never pitted against, women. It is a rule of the game that all spectators within the lodge must take turns at playing. If I had attended a game, a member assured me, I should have been obliged to play. He was emphatic in stating that there was no gambling in the modern form of the game. The evening is concluded with a dance, in

1 The writer saw an old Blackfoot moccasin of this type at Gleichen, Alberta.

2 On the clothing and decoration of the Assiniboine, see Henry, p. 306; Catlin, I, pp. 55, 57; Maximilian, I, pp. 441-442; Jesuit Relations, Vol. 66, p. 107.

18

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

which the performers either move in a circle, or lift their feet without change of place. The set of objects used for the game is wrapped up in a bundle, and is not exposed on ordinary occasions. As played to-day, this game seems to be a simplified form of the modern Arapaho (but apparently not Gros Ventre) guessing-game.1

2. Ihe'dja kude'bin0, arrow-shooting.

3. Ha'mba uns etcu'mbin0, the moccasin-game.

4. Kansu' etcu'mbin0, the wooden-plate game.3 The claws of animals, fruit-seeds, or four brass pins, each marked to indicate the value of a throw, are cast as dice (kansu') from a wooden plate (kansu'-yoga,pt1)).

5. Mage' etcu'mbin0, the hoop-game. “They have a hoop about two feet in diameter, nearly covered with dressed leather, and trimmed with quill-work, feathers, bits of metal, and other trinkets, on which are certain particular marks. Two persons play at the same time, by rolling the hoop and accompanying it, one on each side; when it is about to fall, each gently throws one arrow in such manner that the hoop may fall upon them; and according to that mark on the hoop which rests upon the arrows, they reckon the game.” 3

6. Tapga'psidjab1, the women’s ball-game. The women drive a ball (tab) with a crooked stick.

7. Hun'pe etcu'mbin0, the wooden-pin game. Two pins are driven into the ground about four inches apart, and wooden pins are rolled between them.

8. Tanwin'yuncrian', the “seven” stick game. Forty-one peeled sticks are shaken together by one player, and divided into two moieties. The opponent is to guess which hand contains a decimal number of sticks (ten, twenty, thirty, or forty). This is apparently a form of the game described by Henry. “They have another game which requires 40 to 50 small sticks, as thick as a goose-quill and about a foot long; these are all shuffled together, and then divided into two bunches, and according to the even or odd numbers of sticks in the bunch chosen, the players lose or win.”4

9. In'yan etcu'mbin0, the rock-game. This game was played on the ice. 1 wo holes were dug out on either side, and in front of them a mark was made, at which rocks were aimed. The side that threw rocks into both of the opponents’ pits won.

10. 1 asi hun etcu mbin0, the cup-and-ball game. Dried antelope ankle-

1 Kroeber, (a), pp. 368-382; (b), p. 186.

2 Also mentioned by Coues, p. 522.

3 Coues, p. 521-522.

4 Coues, p. 522. Maximilian, I, p. 455, mentions a game, also found among the Black- foot, in which one player conceals some small stones in his hand, of which his opponent must guess the number, or pay a forfeit.

1909.]

Lome, The Assiniboine.

19

bones are strung on a cord, to the lower end of which there is attached a triangular or quadrangular piece of buckskin with one large central and numerous smaller perforations (Fig. 3). The usual number of bones is seven. If the player should happen to catch the lowest bone on his pin, he wins the game irre¬ spective of his opponent’s score. In a specimen not figured, the six bones above the lowest are colored blue.

11. Cankni'he, the four-stick dice-game.

Cat’s cradle (ilain :) is played at Morley, where I saw both the “two-star”1 2 and other figures. The boys had also picked up the European form of the game, one player alternately relieving the other. At Ft. Belknap the game is also known.

Formerly, stories were generally told in the evening. An old man would begin his tale. As some of the inmates of his lodge fell asleep, he occasionally paused in his narrative, waiting for his audience to give him a sign to continue. If he could not finish the story in the course of a single evening, he would, before re-commencing on the following night, ask, “What was my last word ?” If no one recollected it, he would refuse to proceed.

Art.

ii

Decorative Art. The objective aspect of Assiniboine decorative art has been recently dealt with by Professor Kroeber, 3 whose conclusions, based largely on the same material as that acces¬ sible to the present writer, may be summarized as follows. There is a close relationship between the art of the Sioux and that of the Assiniboine.

In quill and bead embroidery, both employ a

considerable number of designs shared by other tribes, but they are

1 Thus the word stands in my field-notes, but the l is suspicious. Unfortunately I did not record the corresponding term at Ft. Belknap.

2 Jayne, Caroline F., pp. 129-130.

s Kroeber, (b), pp. 153, 155, 158, 160-161, 167.

Fig. 3 (50-7118). Cup- and-ball Game. Length, 33 cm.

20

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

distinguished by the decidedly more frequent use of the square (box),

cross and “feather” patterns, the last of these being a lozenge formed by two differently colored acute-angled triangles. Some of the less charac¬ teristic elements, found on a Stoney armlet, are shown in Fig. 4.1 Moccasin decoration, being to a certain extent dependent on the form of the decorated object, receives special treatment in Ivroeber’s paper. In this province of their art, Sioux and Assiniboine fail to reveal individuality of style, practically every type of design found in the Northern Plains area being represented on their moccasins.

The diversity of Assiniboine moccasin deco¬ ration may be best demonstrated by a series of concrete examples. Fig. 5 B illustrates the first of Kroeber’s three principal types; disregarding the subordinate elements, we find a longitudinal stripe tapering towards the instep and perpendicu¬ lar to a transverse bar tipped at either extremity with a feather-clesign. A modification of the second type is seen in Fig. 6 A: save for the border, the entire decorative field is covered with a single geometric pattern, — parallel quill-bands, partly blue and partly yellowish-red. Ivroeber’s third type, being defined by a purely negative FlS'|4.j’o°~6S14j' Annlet' characteristic — lack of correlation between a

central figure and the outline of the decorative field — constitutes, of course, merely a conventional group, within which inde¬ finite variation may be expected. Some of the more common patterns — the angle-across, the tent, and the bird designs — are shown in Figs. 5 A, 5G and 6B, respectively; an Assiniboine circle-design, with subsidiary elements, has already been illustrated in a Museum publication.1 In Fig. 5 D eleven feather-designs radiate from a very small central circle. A rectangular cross stands out boldly from the front of a child’s moccasin (Fig. 6 C), and is repeated on the sides in the rear. Another pair (Fig. 6 E) shows a similar disposition of the triplicate decorative unit, which is identical

1 In the illustrations, colors are represented as follows: greenish light blue, by diagonal shading; dark blue, by heavier diagonal shading; light blue, by broken diagonal shading; green, by horizontal shading; red, by vertical shading; brownish-red, by cross-hatching; yellow, by dotting. The drawings were made by Miss Ruth B. Howe.

1 Wissler, (a), Plate LII, Fig. 1.

1909.]

Lome, The Assiniboine.

21

Fig. 5 a (50-6894a), 6 (50-7120 a), c"(50-4331a), d (50-1953a), e (50-6816a), f (50-6808 b),, g (50-1954 b). Moccasin Decoration.

22

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Fig. 6 a (50-19S6), 6 (50-1969), c (50-4336), d (50-2017), c(50-1955b). Moccasin Decoration.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

23

with the pronged design commonly found on beadwork of the Prairie Indians. In Fig. 5C the stepped triangle of the Blackfoot is found balanc¬ ing three feather designs on a horizontal bar. An obliquely set rectangle with two divergent feather-designs extending from each corner is seen in Fig. 6 D. Additional variants are illustrated in Figs. 5E and 5 F.

The Assiniboine parfleches at my disposal are too few to permit any

Fig. 7 a (50-1971), b (50-1982), c (50-2000), d (50-1819). Parfleche Decoration.

general description. Each of the four specimens in Fig. 7 represents a distinct stvle of ornamentation. The parfleche pictured in lig. 7( has a rectangular field bisected by a longitudinal stripe enclosing three hour¬ glass figures, one above the other, while the two panels are decorated with symmetrical tipi designs; the frame of the rectangle is decorated with a continuous zigzag line. Fig. / A also shows a trained rectangle bisected

24

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV:

by a longitudinal stripe, but each of the* resulting panels is painted with a central lozenge flanked above and below by an isosceles triangle. The third parfleche (Fig. 7 B) offers a trapezoidal decorative surface. The frame is marked with oblique lateral stripes; above and below there are three tri¬ angles in a row. The inner trapezoid contains a central diamond with

isosceles processes above and below and flanked by hourglass designs on the sides. All these figures have partly curved outlines; this feature is, however, far more strongly ac¬ centuated in the central figure than in the hourglass designs. The single Stoney specimen secured (Fig. 7 D) represents a wholly aberrant style. A framed rectangular area is divided by a fairly wide stripe into two symmetrically decorated panels. Within each of these, an otherwise unmarked quasi-elliptical

Fig. S (50-6811). Decoration of a Stoney Tambourine. Diameter, 18 cm.

area encloses a central lozenge1

with numerous small isosceles triangles along the edges. The symbolism of this figure and of the subsidiary designs is discussed below.

Though I did not see any painted robes or lodges, I still found a few attempts at realistic representation. Of the tambourine (Fig. 8) one side is painted with the dark-blue figure of a lizard, while the other shows the picture of a woman executed in the same color.

1 The illustration incorrectly represents this lozenge as homologous with the enclosing figure.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

25

While nowadays both the Stoneys and the Assiniboine proper produce designs for decorative effects exclusively, there is still a lingering memory of symbolical interpretations. Fig. 9 B shows a small beaded bag, the whole representing a turtle, of which the ventral side is illustrated. The explanation given recalls the navel amulets of the Dakota, which, however, are far more realistic representations of the animal.1 On the dorsal side, two very irregularly triangular designs, placed as symmetrical counterparts one above the other, stand for a small animal (ant?). The circle formerly used to ornament robes was said to have been interpreted as a shield, the rays representing the feathers; the circle on Sioux shirts stood for the netted hoop.2 A quill rosette with a tassel of human hair on the cover of a lodge

Fig. 9a (50-1997), b (50-6815). Navel Amulet. Length, 31 cm. Bag. Length, 10 cm.

indicated that the owner had slain an enemy. Other interpretations con¬ nected with martial achievements are described in connection with the grass- dance (p. 67). On a drum, isosceles triangles were interpreted as tipis; on a hat they stood for mountains. On a parfleche (Fig. 7 D) the quasi- realistic figure is a hope'pe (a kind of fish); the red and blue curves above and below it are rainbow symbols and the small, white triangles are knives. On a moccasin bearing the beaded circle-design, the quadrangular figure with the circle was interpreted as a war-club, and three triangles with points touching the circle and bases facing the toe were said to represent feathers.3 A moccasin decoration consisting of a vertical line joining two

1 Wissler, (a), p. 241.

2 Rosettes on Assiniboine garments are pictured in Maximilian’s Atlas, Tab. 12, 32. A reproduction of Tab. 12 is given in Fig. 2.

2 For a different interpretation of a similar Assiniboine design, as well as of other Assini¬ boine moccasin patterns, see Wissler, (a), p. 254.

26 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

symmetrical isosceles triangles was said to look like a heait. b*g- 10 shows a pouch with seven small blue squares, forming the Dipper. Color sym¬ bolism seems to have been well developed among the Stoneys. On a drum (Fig. 11), the gray central ring is itself a drum, the concentric rings are rainbow symbols, and the four sets of slanting lines (yellow, black, whitish) represent the sunshine. The green color between these lines denotes clouds,

the four following rings the rainbow, and the external red ring has no ascertainable meaning. On the other side, there is a star in the center, the black circle stands for night, the blue color at the circumference for twilight, and the oblique red, yellow and white lines for the sunshine. On one side of another drum a yellow' circle is explained as the moon, a concentric dark-blue ring as the night, and a brown one as the sunrise. The interpretation of colored areas on a drum used in the grass-dance is given else¬ where. The red crescent above the woman on the tambourine (Fig. 8 B) symbolizes the rainbow'. On a saddle ornament (Fig. 12), the outermost light-blue ring symbolizes the moon, and the sextet of lozenge pairs enclosed by it, the sunshine. The red circle in the center, representing fire, is surrounded by a light-blue ring symbolizing the sunrise, w'hile the radiat- ■ ing triangles stand for the morning star. The remaining areas of the circular section remain uninterpreted, except for the yellow' zone, which indicates the sunset. On the lower quadrangular part of the specimen, the background is explained as a cloudless day, the eight truncate triangles are arrow points, and the buckskin fringe represents clouds.

Music. A Stoney flute seen at Morley consisted of a jointed cylindrical tube about 35 cm. long. The mouthpiece contained a large oblong hole, the central section six smaller, circular apertures, the lowest part, which was notched at the bottom, a single circular hole. A Stoney drum and tambourine are shown in Figures 11 and 8. Both skin and deer-hoof rattles belong to the old orchestral equipment of the tribe, and Henry also mentions a notched instrument: “Another instrument w'as one that was no more than a piece of wood, of three feet, wfith notches cut on its edge. The performer drew a stick backward and forward, along the notches, keepin0, time.”1

1 Henry, p. 296. A similar instrument was found by Long’s expedition among the Oto and Iowa (James, I, p. 140).

Fig. 10. (50-6813). Bag. Length, 15 cm.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

27

Fig. 11 (50-6809).

Designs on a Drum. Diameter, 50 cm.

28

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

War. '

of the Assiniboine consisted of the bow, spear, and pogga- of otter skin and terminated in a tail The bow was partly covered with elk horn, wrapped with sinew,

The weapons

moggan. The quiver was usually pendant.

and was often adorned with colored

Fig. 12 (50-6S10). Saddle Ornament.

Length, 27 cm.

cloth, porcupine quills and white strips of ermine. The poggamoggan con¬ sisted of a stone weighing about two pounds which was sewed in leather and fastened to a wooden handle about two feet long. The stone was whirled round the handle; to prevent the weapon from slipping out of the hand, a wrist-loop was attached to the handle.1 Maxi¬ milian’s Atlas figures an Assini¬ boine warrior holding a bow-spear (Tab. 32, partly reproduced in Fig. 13), but this weapon is explained to have had a purely ornamental function.

A man would not offer to lead a wTar party, unless he had had a dream to that effect. He might dream that he was killing several enemies in a certain country with the loss of, say only one man on his own side. In such a case, the dreamer would summon other young men and announce his dream. If they agreed to go with him, they got ready to start. On the way to the site indicated they

stopped four times, the leader (awan'k’ai'ya) singing at each halting-place, t )n the fourth spot they went to sleep. There the captain generally had another dream in confirmation of the first one, and the next day he announced to his followers when the enemy would be met. Everything happened as foretold; the party might lose one or two men, but usually defeated the enemy, and returned victorious.

1 Maximilian, I, p. 442. Henry, p. 298.

1909.]

Lome, The Assiniboine.

29

Fig. 13. Assiniboine Warrior (After Maximilian)

30

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.

[Vol. IV,

There were two war-dances properly> so called. In the o'winx watcl'bi (circle-dance), only women, dressed in their best garments and with black¬ ened faces, took part. They built a fire, and danced around it in a circle. There was no display of scalps or spoils, but the songs all celebrated warlike deeds. After the dance, a party of men often gathered and marched to the chief’s lodge. There a song eulogizing his deeds was sung. The chief, appreciating the honor, would step outside, and give the singers one of his horses. The party then continued to go around the camp, repeating the performance at the lodge of other prominent men. This custom (wakte' no'- wa u'mbi = they have killed, they are coming to sing) recalls the Dakota begging-dances.

The practices connected with the scalp-dance (wakte' watcl'bi) were essentially different. If men were returning from a victorious raid and felt sure of their safety, they proceeded homeward at a slow pace. As soon as they had sighted the camp, they sat down, built a fire, and placed the pul¬ verized charcoal into a dried buffalo bladder. Approaching the camp, they hailed some fellow-tribesman who happened to be at the outskirts, and begged him to announce to their several fathers-in-law that each of them had captured a scalp. The fathers-in-law came to meet the warriors, and sat down. Then each man told his father-in-law about his exploits, took out his bladder and blackened the old man’s face. Those who did not happen to be married were met by some other relative, apparently irrespective of sex. It is not quite clear whether the father-in-law could be accompanied or even superseded by his wife. The scalps were surrendered to these welcoming relatives. I he father-in-law returned to camp, singing that he had received a scalp from his son-in-law. The same evening the scalper invited men to his lodge, entertained them, and related the story of his deeds. W hen the tale was finished, some old men went outside and announced to the camp that So-and-so had killed an enemy. The next day, it was de¬ cide d to have a scalp-dance. In the course of the day, the victors’ wives cooked food for the dancers. 1 hree or four old men began to sing and drum. Then the warriors got ready to dance, and a large number of women, some of them very old, assembled. Each woman bore a shield, a war club, an arrow, or some other object used in slaying the enemy. They also carried poles, to the top of which the reddened pieces of scalp were tied.

1 hen they all formed a circle around the drummers. When the drummers began to sing, the women approached them dancing, and then returned to their previous position. This was repeated with every song. During periods of intermission, old men rose to count their coups. The songs simply declared that So-and-so had killed an enemy with a spear, or some other weapon. The Stoneys sang:

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

31

Paha' wintca'sta pah a' mu'hatc. Wa’gadji'bi.

A scalp, an Indian scalp I have. Dance.

If a man had killed an enemy and had also been the first to run up and touch him, he received the greatest possible credit, but the three next men to touch the body were also entitled to count coup. If a man killed an enemy and was outdistanced by a fellow-tribesman in running towards the victim, the swifter runner took precedence.1 The first one in the race to the corpse would leap over the body after touching it and return to scalp, if not forestalled by the second runner. If only a few enemies had been killed altogether, the first four men would count coup by touching, and the next four shared the honor of scalping. A man who had killed an enemy was entitled to wear an eagle-feather ; if he had done so repeatedly, he was per¬ mitted to add a feather for each deed. If a man had slain a foe while him¬ self bearing a shield, the shield was represented by wearing a flat circle of feathers “spread out like a turkey’s tail-feathers.” If a man had stolen a horse picketed outside an enemy’s lodge, he had the right of painting a realistic representation of the exploit on his lodge-cover.2

Shields (woha'tcanga) were painted with a picture of the sun, moon, thunder-bird, a buffalo head, a buffalo, or some other animal from which a supernatural communication had been received. The buffalo skin used for the disc was covered with rawhide, and the design was transferred to the cover. Except when in use, the shield remained in a buckskin wrapping. Red, black and blue paint were employed in the decoration of shields. GahiEx, an informant, used to carry a shield decorated with the picture of a buffalo and with crow-feather pendants. It had been made by his father for a younger child, but during the latter’s minority the older son was per¬ mitted to use it. Shields are generally buried with their owners.

Like the Dakota, the Assiniboine wrarrior carried with him his wo'tawE, or war-charm.3 If a man desired to obtain a wo’tawE, he resorted to a holy man, offering him a horse for a fee. The shaman bade him fetch certain objects, prepared the charm, and predicted what would happen to the wearer in battle. Thus, he might announce that the owner would wound one or two enemies; would be wounded himself, though not seriously; or would be shot in the leg by an arrow. The wc/tawE of different men varied considerably. One informant used the dried and fleshed skin of a

1 My (full-blood) interpreter was inclined to the contrary view and insisted that there was a difference of opinion on this point; but every old man appealed to confirmed the statement given in the text. Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 248.

2 For other examples of heraldry in connection with the grass-dance, see p. 67.

3 Riggs, p. 219 Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 443.

32

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

blue-bird, with jack-rabbit ears sewed to its neck, the whole attached to a piece of rawhide painted red on the opposite side. During a fight the head of the bird was fastened with a string to a lock of the owner’s hair. Another man had for his wo'tawE a large knife with a handle made of a bear s jawbone, to'which were tied little bells and a feather. Several kinds of war-charms

Fig. 14 (50-7117). Bag for War-Medicine. Length, 13 cm. and 75 cm.

seem to have been given to members of the Horse society upon their initia¬ tion. At Ft. Belknap I obtained a bag serving as a receptacle for the wd'tawE (Fig. 14). It is of parabolic shape and decorated on both sides withja beaded border enclosing three elongated feather-patterns. Crotals are attached to the fringe, either singly or in pairs, and there is an otter-skin

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

33

shoulder-strap. Possibly some mystic virtue was believed to reside in the very bag containing the wo'tawE, for after the purchase of the article my interpreter immediately offered to buy it of me for twice the amount paid. My informants did not refer to the consecrated weapons found among the Dakota, nor was the acquisition of a wf/tawE connected with puberty.

War-shirts were “dreamt,” and could be disposed of by the visionary as he thought fit. He could prophesy what would happen to the wearer in battle. The origin of shirts with circle designs in front was ascribed by my informants to the Dakota. The Assiniboine shirts were of buckskin; there were small holes in them, and on the breast and back a triangular cut was made. Bear-claws were tied to the shoulder, and bear’s ears to the owner’s head. This type of wo'tawE was associated with the use of a knife. Once a man who had dreamt to that effect donned a fool-dancer’s dress and mask before entering a fight, and in that garb killed an enemy.

Mirror, blanket and fire-signals were ail in vogue among the Assiniboine.1 2

Social Organization and Customs.

Social Organization. On their reservation in Morley, Alberta, the Stoneys are nowadays separated into three “villages” of log-cabins for winter habitation, each village having its own nominal headman. Whether these divisions correspond to old tribal bands is not certain; these, however, are also said to have numbered three, viz., Ho'ke (Like-Big-Fish) ;• Tu-wan'hudan' (Looking-like-Ghosts) ; and Sitcon'ski (Tricksters; literally, Wrinkled- Ankles) .

J. O. Dorsey has collated the lists of Assiniboine bands furnished by Denig, Maximilian and Hayden, respectively.3 btill another list is given in the journals of Alexander Henry.4 From two informants at Ft. Belknap I obtained the following names, partly coinciding with those given by these writers.

1. Tcanxta'da.

2. Unska'ha, Roamers.

3. Wazl'a wintca'cta, Northern People.

4. Wato'paxna- omwan, or Wato'paxnatun\

5. Tcan'xe wintca'cta, People of the Woods.

6. Tanin'ta'bin, Buffalo-Hip.

1 Maclean, p. 27. ,,

2 Denig translates “Hohe,” the Dakota name for the Assiniboine, as ‘ fish-eaters. J. U.

Dorsey, (c), p. 222.

3 J. O. Dorsey (c), pp. 222-223.

■> Coues, pp. 522-523.

34

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

7. Hu'deca'binE, Red-Butt.

8. Waci'az! hyabin, Fat-Smokers.

9. Witci'abin.

10. In,yanton'wanbin, Rock-People.

11. Wato'pabin, Paddlers.

12. Cunktce'bi, Canum Mentulae.

13. Cahi'a iye'skabin, Speakers of Cree (Half-Crees).

14. Xe'natonwan, Mountain People.

15. Xe'bina, Mountain People.

16. Icna'umbisa, Those-who-stay-alone.

17. Ini'na u'mbi. ,

Though several of these names are so nearly alike as to suggest that they refer to the same tribal division, they were, on inquiry, declared to be dis¬ tinct. The Xe'bina are at present on the Ft. Peck reservation, the Wazl'a wintca'cta are the Canadian Assiniboine east of Alberta, while the Stoneys (Te'ha11 Naks'ta = Far-away Assiniboine) are not included in the list.

The relative position of these bands in the camp-circle could no longer be ascertained, except that, according to one authority, the Witci'abin occu¬ pied the site immediately to the right (from the inside) of the entrance to the camp. Each band was said to have a dance of its own, as well as a dance-lodge, removed some distance from the circumference. The builder of the sun-dance lodge appears, from an unconfirmed statement, to have been a member of the Witcl'-abin. The Icna'umbisa, who were almost completely destroyed by the smallpox, owned the greatest number of painted lodges, and, owing to the number of their medicine-men, were considered the most distinguished of all bands.

As to the inheritance of band names, conflicting statements were made by different individuals. While one declared that names were inherited in the paternal line, another thought this applied only to boys, while girls belonged to their mother’s section. Gray-Bull stated that, inasmuch as his father was an In'yanton'wan and his mother an Ini'na u'mbi, he regarded himself as belonging to both sections in equal measure. Ga'nEx said that a boy was reckoned as a member of his father’s band, a girl of her mother’s; nevertheless, he classed himself as belonging to his mother’s. It was only after the inconsistency of his statements had been made clear by repeated efforts that he corrected himself and, obviously as an afterthought, said that he belonged to his father’s band.

J. O. Dorsey, on Denig’s authority, conceives the Assiniboine bands as exogamous clans.1 For this conception, I could not obtain any corrobora¬ tive testimony. Ga'nEx said he could marry a Witci'abin (the section with

1 J. O. Dorsey (c), pp. 224, 226.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

35

which he had affiliated himself on first thoughts), but not a Tanin'ta'bin, because, through his father, all the women in that section were related to him. His wife was a Cunktce'bi. A Tcan/xe wintca'cta declared that both his parents had been members of this band. Another individual recollected an old chief of the Inyan'tonwan, who had chosen several wives from the same division. Considering the foregoing statements, the apparent absence of exogan.) among the Dakota, the ease with which the clan system, when present, is detected,1 the conservatism of the Ft. Belknap Assiniboine, and the trend of modern speculation as to the nature of the tribal unit in the Plains area, I am disposed to doubt the accuracy of Denig’s information.

The authority of a chief, as among most of the Plains tribes, was depend¬ ent on his personal characteristics, such as bravery, liberality, or the posses¬ sion of waka11' power.2 He erected his lodge in the center of the circle, and directed the movements of the camp. Only on the march and during the o-reat tribal hunt was there a strong executive force, vested in the agi'tcita, or Soldiers, braves in the prime of life, who, under the direction of the chief superintended the camp from a large lodge (wiyo'tfibi) in the center of the circle. This lodge corresponds closely to the Dakota tiyotipi,3 being used as a council-chamber and guest-house ; in both cases admission was tabooed to women and children. In a camp of two hundred lodges there might be from fifty to sixty Soldiers. After a hunt, the meat was first brought to the wiyo'ti'bi. On the march, a detachment of the agi'tcita cleared the way for the dog-travois, while another section constituted the rear-guard. In case of danger, outposts were stationed at the extremities of the camp to prevent people from passing beyond the lines and falling into the hands of the enemy. These sentries were changed from day to day. Those who disobeyed orders, especially hunters who made a premature charge on the buffalo in a tribal chase, were beaten unmercifully, or subjected to “soldier-killing (agi'tcita wo'pota'bi).4 Of this disciplinary procedure I obtained the following account.

At the end of the feast following a tribal hunt, if anyone has infringed the rules of the chase, some one asks, “Who was the first in this moiety to rush in pursuit of the buffalo ?” The leader of the section in question knows, but he will not answer in the presence of the other moiety. Then they say, “Let us tear him up.” All start towards his lodge. One of the two over¬ seers enters the lodge, takes the owner by the hand, and leads him outside,

1 Cf. Mooney, (c), p. 410.

2 Cf. De Smet, pp. 1108-1140, esp. 1124-1125.

3 Riggs, p. 200. ,

4 My statements are based partly on data obtained in the field, partly on the older Henry s narrative (pp. 291-292, 310, 309) and on the information supplied by Denig and recorded by De Smet (p. 1028) and J. O. Dorsey (c) (pp. 224-225).

36

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\ ol. I\

then re-enters, and leads out the offender’s wife and children. I he other men herd together the guilty man’s horses and dogs. Then the leader says, “Turn loose, and tear up his lodge.” They tear up, or burn, his buffalo- skin cover, take down the lodge-poles, chop up his travois, and kill his dogs and horses. Then they depart. For four days the Soldiers wait without taking further action. If the criminal is angry and seeks revenge, they may kill him. But if he makes no show of resistance, they assemble fo discuss his case. One man will say, ‘‘I have a good tent, I will give him my buffalo- skin cover.” Another promises to present him with lodge-poles. A third offers to give him tanned robes, a fourth, a horse, and so on, until the total property thus aggregated may equal or exceed the culprit’s loss. The Soldiers separate, gather the gifts together in one place, put up the lodge for the pardoned offender, picket the horse, tie up the dogs, and put pemmican inside the tent. Then all march towards the man’s resting-place, lead him * to the new lodge, bid him enter, and announce that everything there belongs to him.

The punishment of practically every crime except disobedience to the aghtcita was an individual, not a tribal affair.. The treatment of adulterers is described by De Smet. The seducer was killed, provided the offended husband had the power to put him to death. “The woman is sometimes killed, but always severely punished. The husband causes her head to be closely shaved, and her person painted over with a heavy coat of vermilion mixed with bear’s grease; she is then mounted on a horse, the mane and tail of which have been cut off, and the whole body also daubed with vermilion; an old man conducts her all around the camp and proclaims aloud- her infidelity; at last he commits her to the hands of her own relatives, who receive the culprit with a good beating. A woman cannot be subjected to a more degrading punishment.” 1

Terms of Relationship. The following terms of relationship, differing on the whole, only dialectically, from J. O. Dorsey’s Santee list,2 were re¬ corded by the writer.

Ade' . Father (vocative); ni-a'de, your father; atgu'g11, his

(or her) father.

Ade'na . Father’s brother.

Ina' . Mother (vocative); ni-hu11', your mother; hu'ngu, his

(or her) mother.

Ina'na . Mother’s sister.

Mi-ca'nin (Stoney) . “ “

Mi-ne'kc1 . My mother’s brother; nekci'dju, his mother’s brother.

1 De Smet, pp. 943-944.

2 In Riggs, pp. XVIII, XX.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

37

Mi-han'gac . My father’s sister; hanga'citku, his father’s sister.

Mi-nun'gazi'n (Stoney) _ My mother’s sister’s husband; my father’s brother.

Mi-tun'gac (Stoney : mi-

tun'gacin) . My grandfather; tunga'ngici'tku, his grandfather.

Mi-kun'c . My grandmother; ku'nici'tku, his grandmother.

Mi-tci’n . My older brother; my father’s brother’s son, older than

myself (man speaking); tci'ndjun, his older brother.

Mi-ti'mnona . My older brother (woman speaking).

Mi-ta'ngivna . My older sister (man speaking).

Mi-tcu'n . My older sister; my husband’s brother’s wife (woman

speaking).

Mi-sun' . My younger brother (man or woman speaking) ; my

father’s brother’s son, younger than myself (man speaking) .

Mi-ta'nkc* . My younger sister (man speaking).

Mi-ta'nga . My younger sister, my husband’s brother’s wife (woman

speaking) .

Mi-tcinkc1 . My son. My brother’s son (man or woman speaking).

My sister’s son (woman speaking).

Mi-tcu'nkc1 . My daughter.

Mi-ta'goja . My grandchild ; ta'gojakpa'ku, his grandchild.

Mi-ta’han . My sister’s husband (man speaking). My wife’s brother.

Mi-ci'dje . My brother-in-law (woman speaking).

Mi-ha'nk (Stoney: mi-

ha'na) . My sister-in-law (man speaking).

Mi-ci'djepanV . My sister-in-law (woman speaking).

Mi-tunjan' . My sister’s or brother’s daughter (man speaking).

Mi-to'jan . My sister’s or brother’s daughter (woman speaking).

Mi-tun’cg . My sister’s son, older than myself (man speaking).

Mi-tun'cgax . My sister’s son, younger than myself (man speaking).

Mi-han’gac . My father’s brother’s daughter (man speaking).

Mi-cl'djec . My father’s brother’s son (woman speaking).

Mi-ta'gunc . My son-in-law; my daughter-in-law (man or woman

speaking).

Mi-tun'g . My father-in-law (man or woman speaking).

Mi-kun' . My mother-in-law (man or woman speaking).1

Undjin'c . His mother-in-law.

Mi-hi'nkna . My husband ; hinkna'ngu, her husband.

Mi-ta'wi" . My wife; tawin'tcu,' his wife.

Kitci'-mihga' (Stoney) . . - My spouse; kitci'nga, his or her spouse.

Canku'n (Stoney) . Stepmother (man speaking).

As among the Dakota 2 young men were often united in pairs as com¬ rades (kona'). The moral obligations involved in this relationship are well illustrated by a tale, in which a father disowns his son for having been

1 Owing to the mother-in-law taboo, this term was, of course, not employed by men in direct address.

2 Riggs, p. 196.

38

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

a disloyal kona', while the outraged friend is so overwhelmed with shame that he retires into voluntary exile.1

Natal Observances. Before parturition, the husband must leave the lodge; if he remained within, the child would not be born. The mother is assisted by several women, one of whom cuts the umbilical cord. A mid¬ wife, regularly called in confinement cases, was pointed out to me at Ft. Belknap. Some holy gifts are placed within the lodge, but must not be touched until after birth. One baby-board is made beforehand, and only one. If two were prepared, twins would be born, and twins do not live long. The afterbirth is wrapped up, and put on a high tree; some people are afraid that if put in the ground it might be touched by some animal and the child would then be taken sick. When the navel-string breaks off, it is tied up in a buckskin bag with some tobacco and kept until the child can wear it in its necklace. Sometimes, in later years, if the parent was in need of. tobacco, he might coax the child to open the navel-string bag and give up some of the tobacco, but coercion was never resorted to. Fig. 9 A shows an Assiniboine navel-ornament collected by Dr. Kroeber.

Stoney women, when in confinement, drink the infusion of a medicinal root. Another root is boiled into a tea with which to wash the newborn infant. Sometimes a father gave away a horse on the birth of a child.

The ears of a child were pierced soon after birth. The operation was not attended by any ceremony, though the Assiniboine know and described to me the observances of the Dakota on such occasions.

Names. Sometimes a near relative of the infant has had a supernatural revelation of the name to be given to the child. If this is not the case, a brave man is engaged for a small compensation, such as a saddle, or even a horse, to name the baby after one of his martial exploits. The parents give a feast. The godfather recites the story of some brave deed, and names the child accordingly. He picks up the infant, and says, “Your name is Spotted-Horse,’’ then passes it to his neighbor. Each guest in turn calls the child “Spotted-Horse,” until it is finally returned to its mother. If a spon¬ sor has stolen a horse with a horny growth behind the ear, he may baptize the child accordingly; if he has taken an enemy’s bow, or gun, the young one may be called “ Takes-the-bow,” or “Takes-the-gun.’ Girls were named in the same way. According to Henry, the father merely announced the child’s name to his guests and addressed a prayer for its life and welfare.2 3 It was stated that names were not changed in later life, but the assumption of new names is mentioned by De Smet.'' I could not find any evidence for

1 See p. 206.

2 Henry, p. 303.

3 De Smet, p. 1111.

1909.]

Loirie, The Assiniboine.

39

the use of cardinal birth-names, such as occur among other Siouan tribes.1

Menstruation. Formerly, when a girl menstruated for the first time, she notified her mother. Her parents constructed a sweat-lodge shelter covered with robes. Here the girl lived for four days, using her own dishes for eat¬ ing. At the close of the period, she was taken to the river to bathe. 1 he clothes worn in the hut were burnt, and new garments were put on; her dishes were thrown away. Subsequently to this first period, it was not necessary for a woman to leave the lodge; indeed, one informant denied the existence of menstrual huts among the Assiniboine, though cognizant of the Sioux custom in this respect.” He also mentioned the fact that while the Dakota girls employ scratching-sticks for the head during the first menses, the use of such a device was not known among his own people. There was a formal announcement of the child’s attainment to puberty. At a girl s first menses, her parents and relatives collected property, called in old men, and divided the goods and horses among them. Then they asked the visitors to notify the camp that property had been distributed in honor of their daughter’s maturity. Thus, all the people were informed. Some¬ times, a father would make the announcement some time before expecting the first catamenial flow. One informant took his daughter to a dance a year before her first menses, and gave away seven yellow-eared white horses and one pinto in her honor. Neither at puberty, nor during later menstrual periods, were any food restrictions observed, though the women ate from a cup and plate of their own. Two taboos are still rigorously enforced. A menstruating woman must not step over anyone’s legs or body, and a certain medicine bundle 3 must not be kept in the same lodge with her. If a woman menstruates, she immediately tells her husband, who then places the bundle outside his tent. If she is approaching a lodge and does not know whether a medicine-bundle is kept inside, she pauses at the door to inform the in¬ mates of her condition, so that the medicine can be removed. It is said that if the bundle were not taken out, a woman would continue to menstruate indefinitely.

Marriage. If a girl had no relatives, she might live with her lover with¬ out any further formality, but this was regarded as an irregular alliance. Sometimes a girl, thwarted in her love-affairs by her parents’ objections, might notify her lover and arrange an elopement. The lovers would run away, remain at a distance for a while, and ultimately return. Her parents, after a long separation, rejoiced at their daughter’s return, and refrained from upbraiding her.

1 Riggs, p. XVI. Curtis, (III, p. 18) denies that the Teton had such names.

2 The existence of menstrual huts is, however, referred to in one of the Stoney myths.

3 The wo'tawE? Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 445.

40

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

The normal procedure, however, in contracting matrimony was fairly definite. The youth proposing for a girl’s hand dispatched a messenger with one or more horses, which were picketed near the young woman’s lodge. The girl’s brother appropriated the gift, and her mother summoned a family council. The female members made about a dozen moccasins and pre¬ pared a feast. At this feast the father announced, “Mv daughter is going to pay her first visit to this man. It behooves ns to bring some gifts.” Then the relatives gathered together presents, the brother of the girl being expected to contribute most liberally of all. The prospective fiancee made pemmican in the presence of all the people, and was then dressed in her best clothing. Her father requested an old man to escort the girl to the lodge. The old man led the procession, while the girl marched behind him and was in turn followed by her relatives, who carried the gifts. Her father and brothers did not go with the rest of the people. When they got to the youth’s residence, the leader shot off his gun, raised the door- dap, and allowed the girl to enter first, laden with the pemmican and the footgear made by her family. She sat down beside her lover, laying down the meat and the twelve pairs of moccasins, and waited while he ate the food. A hen he had eaten, he handed back the pan, and stowed away casms. I he gifts were brought indoors, and the horses were picketed. I he girl s relatives returned to their camp. Not long after this visit, the proposer’s parents invited all the members of their family and divided the property among them. The recipients came back the next day, returning to the donor some gifts of superior value to those received. The hi idegroom s father asked an old man to lead the procession of his relatives to the giil s lodge, this old man, when close to the lodge, shot off a gun, and the presents were brought in and distributed among the girl’s relatives. After this exchange of gifts, the youth could come for his wife at any time he pleased, and they settled in a new lodge as soon as practicable.

1 10m Henry s account it appears that the suitor generally courted the gill he wished to marry at night, without disturbing the other inmates of the lodge. If she consented, he lay with her, retired at daybreak, and informed his mother, who then discussed the matter with the girl’s mother. If the women arrived at an agreement, the young man’s father invited that of the joung woman to a sweat-lodge, where he announced his son’s intentions.

I he girl s parent reserved decision until the next day, when he invited the other to a sweat-house. If they agreed upon the marriage, the terms were then settled: the young man was either pledged to serve his father-in-law for a stated period or must offer a present. In the former case, he and his parents visited the bride’s family, a feast was prepared, the father-in-law ce ivered a speech, and the young man remained with his wife’s relatives.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

41

Otherwise, the man’s parents visited the woman’s family to offer their gift and returned home. Shortly after, the girl was escorted by her parents to the bridegroom’s lodge, where she was seated beside the young man. In this case, the feast and speech were made by the bridegroom’s father.1

Polygamy was frequent. The levirate was also commonly practised. A married woman will still wait on her brothers-in-law as if they were her husbands, though there is no sexual intercourse between them. It a man s wife dies, he has a pre-emptive right to her younger sister, and if the girl is still immature she is kept for him until puberty. First cousins were not allowed to marry.

A woman was not allowed to speak to her father-in-law, and a man was not permitted to hold conversation with either his father-in-law or his mother-in-law. A man may be kind to his wife’s parents, bringing them horses or robes, but he must not talk to them. So far as the father-in-law taboo is concerned, absolution from it is possible if the son-in-law brings home a scalp. It is doubtful whether the mother-in-law taboo could be similarlv removed, as was the case among the Mandan.2 Even to-day a son-in-law is not permitted to use, in ordinary conversation, any term forming part of his father-in-law’s name. If the father-in-law’s name is Yellow-Knife, the young man must paraphrase the concept “knife” by saying “something sharp” ; instead of “tobacco,’ he would, in a correspond¬ ing case, be obliged to say “smoke”; instead of “horse,” “the animal we ride,” and so forth.3

Death. When a man died, his relatives washed his entire body, combed and braided his hair, and painted his face. The corpse was taken out by the ordinary exit, wrapped up in a robe, and deposited on a tree or burial- staoe, sometimes with several other bodies. According to Maximilian,4 men distinguished for bravery were laid on the ground and covered with wood and stone to protect them against wolves. According to the younger Henry, the dead were buried in a sitting posture with laces towards the east.’ De Smet states that the feet of the corpse were always turned toward the west. When the scaffolds or trees containing the, bodies fall, “the relatives bury all the other bones, and place the skulls in a circle in the plain, with faces turned toward the center.” Bison skulls were also placed there, and in the center a medicine-pole hung with wakan' pendants was planted to protect

1 Henry, pp. 300-303.

2 J. O. Dorsey, (c), p. 241.

3 Cf. Denig: ‘‘The names of the wife's parents are never pronounced by the husband: to do so would excite the ridicule of the whole camp.” In J. O. Dorsey, (c), p. 225.

4 Maximilian, I, p. 446. Assiniboine graves are figured in the Prince's Atlas, Tab. 30.

3 Coues, p. 521. The older Henry, in a passage apparently referring to the Assiniboine (p. 303 f.), describes circular graves five feet deep, lined with bark or skin; the body "as in a sitting posture.

42

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

the remains.1 Sometimes dogs were killed to accompany the dead to the spirit world.2

For mourning, husbands and wives cropped their hair. If a man was very fond of his wife, he would not marry until his hair had grown again. A woman also showed her affection for a deceased husband by remaining unwedded for a long time. Children are not said to have exhibited outward signs of mourning on the death of their parents. Unlike the Crow, the Assi- niboine did not cut off a finger in token of mourning. Among the Stoneys, when a boy or girl died, his parents cut off a lock of hair from the middle of the head, and thereafter kept it in a bag. This custom is still observed to some extent.

Regulations of inheritance were simplified by the fact that most of a deceased person’s personal effects, such as arms, clothes and kitchen utensils were buried with the corpse. This was particularly true of such objects as medicine-pipes and sacred shields. A single man’s horse had his mane and tail docked on the death of his owner, and was turned loose. If a married man died, his best horses were turned loose, the remainder were inherited by his wife, or in part by his son if he had attained to majority.

Berdaches. Berdaehes (win'yan inkEnu'ze, or winktan/) were known to the Assiniboine. They became such as a result of dream revelations to that effect, and were accordingly regarded as wakan/. They did not marry, and mingled freely among both men and women. They performed all the household and industrial work of the female sex, and in conversation em¬ ployed the affirmative and imperative particles peculiar to women’s speech. According to a Stoney tale, there was once a berdache who married a man. Id erat mentula parva, et infra illam eunnus. He performed both a man’s and a woman s work. Erant qui eum marem esse censerent, sed narratoris matri se et masculina et muliebria genitalia habere demonstravit. Cum illius conjux ab Indianis Blood interfectus esset, ab alio Indiano ex eis qui “Cree” appellantur in matrimonium ductus est, quo mortuo ad suos rediit. I he ( ree took him for a man, but his spouse declared him to be a berdache.

Religious Life.

Shamanism. As among the Dakota,3 there were two classes of medical practitioners,— the root-doctor (peju'da wintca'eta) and the holy man (wintca'cta waka11').

1 De Smet, p. 1141.

2 Clark, p. 54.

3 Riggs, pp. 214-215.

1909.]

Lome, The Assiniboine.

43

So far as I could learn, the practice of curing illness by medicinal roots and herbs is not the prerogative of a class differentiated from the rest ot the tribal community. As root-medicines are not burnt or buried at their owner’s death, they are inherited by the closest relative of the deceased, who may dispose of them at his discretion. If the legatee, or purchaser, accom¬ plishes a cure by means of his specific, people suffering from the same ailment will ask for his aid, offering adequate compensation. 1 he procedure is on a strictly commercial basis. My interpreter complained that a peju da wintca'cta would not doctor gratuitously even in the most serious cases. On the other hand, payment of his fee is contingent on the patient’s recov¬ ery. Owing to the commercial value of a remedy, its owner naturally observes great secrecy with regard to the kind ot root employed and the method of application. A person afflicted with some chronic sickness generally buys the remedy outright in order to prevent successive payments

of ultimately greater aggregate value.

My interpreter, Dick Jones, had acquired two simples for stopping nasal hemorrhage. Last spring his stepdaughter had an attack, and hope of her recovery was abandoned by the government physician. 1 he girl I was staying at the school building. Alter long-continued solicitation on hei 1 father’s part, the agent consented to the patient’s removal to her parents’ home. Dick then proceeded as follows. He pulverized part of a weed,

; soaked it in water, and mixed it with a root that had been similarly treated. The girl was then requested to snuff the solution up into her nose. Wet leaves were next stuffed into one nostril, and they stopped the bleeding. When the hemorrhage broke out in the other nostril, it was similarly treated. The stuffing was continued for two days. 4 he girl was cured, and is well to-day.1 Since that time, if anyone in the tribe is afflicted with bleeding from the nose, he visits Dick, offering a horse in compensation for his services.

The Indians have no faith in vaccination. They believe that “smallpox has eyes, and sees who is afraid of it.” Hence, it is best to stay near those smitten with smallpox, to use the same pipe, eat from the same dish, wrap one’s self in the same blanket, and to show in other ways that one is not afraid of the disease.

An infusion of the leaves of a species of sage-brush (peji’-xo'da-mana'- ska'ska = literally, gray-flat grass) is said to be used as an emetic, which cleanses the body of noxious fluids.

In serious cases of sickness, a wintca’cta waka" is resorted to. B
means of his spiritual advisers he is to decide as to the adequacy oi ordinal} doctoring or the necessity for waka11’ practices. The latter are always required for extracting a nocturnal insect that enters people’s bodies. Ghosts do not appear to be regarded as pathogenic agents. _

i The government officials naturally give a somewhat different version of the case,

44

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

A wintca'cta waka11' has the power to injure a personal enemy, but in case he does, his spirits punish him for his malpractice, either he himself or a near relative being smitten with some affliction. Thus, a bad medicine¬ man had magically caused Ist5'-egan's blindness, but was killed by another Indian he had injured. An old Stoney ascribed his blindness and abnormally frequent micturition to the magic of Cree visitors, whom he had refused to present with horses. A Fort Belknap Indian had been a famous hunter in his youth; his success roused the jealousy of a rival, who smote him with blindness. In the last two cases the punishment of the malefactor was not indicated by the informants.

The following story recounts a somewhat specialized mode of treatment. Once a shaman who had received supernatural revelations from a horse was treating a sick man. A lodge was erected, the entrance facing south. At some distance a lodge-pole having some flannel attached to it was planted in the ground. A horse, which had flannel tied around his neck and calico and feathers around his mane, was tied to the pole. Paint was put on, beginning from his mane and passing down the entire back, and the tip of his nose wras reddened. Some singers entered the lodge and sang according to the shaman’s directions. After several songs, the performer wralked to the horse, untied him, and brought the rope to the lodge, the horse still remain¬ ing in the same position. The shaman unpinned the front of the lodge, so that the horse could enter. At the next intonation of the song, the horse wTalked into the lodge, and began smelling the sick man, w ho was not even able to turn from one side to the other. A henever the horse drew a breath, smoke of various colors — blue, red, black — issued from his nostrils. He placed his mouth over the sick man, and several round objects fell on the patient’s breast. The shaman ordered the man to swallow them, which he did. I he hoise walked out to the pole and stood facing the lodge-entrance. The patient suddenly felt like rising. First he sat up, then he rose unaided, stepped out of the lodge, walked around the camp, returned, and sat down. He said that he no longer felt weak, but was inclined to walk about. Pre¬ viously he had not been able to eat, now he was hungry. The shaman said, It is going to rain presently. A hen it rains, strip naked, go outside, and get washed by the rain. Before this, you must not touch your wife. If you disobey, you will only live a very short time; it will be like thrusting a knile into your throat.’ A cloud appeared, and grew in size. The doctor and his singers left. The rain-drops began to fall. The convalescent’s w’fe approached. Her husband bade her enter. She refused, saying, “No, you are not allowed to touch me until you are well.” The man saicUie was quite well. Though the woman had not heard the doctor’s directions, she knew it was not good for her husband to embrace her. However, he in-

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

45

sisted until she reluctantly approached. Then he seized her. She bade him release her, again warning him, but nevertheless he embraced her. She went home. After a while, the shaman returned. As he entered, the horse began to neigh. The doctor said, “You have transgressed my orders, I shall not treat you any more.” He turned the horse loose, and went away. The patient was taken sick again, with pains in every part of his body. He died the next noon.

The method of treatment in a painted lodge will be given in connection with a personal narrative.

Shamanistic doctoring can also be carried on as part of a public medicine- performance (wagi'ksuyabi, or waka'xambi). For a shamanistic exhibition several tents are put together to form a large lodge. A feast, consisting ex¬ clusively of berries, is prepared. The people wait outside at a distance of about twenty-five yards. The performers enter. On one occasion a woman with a crooked neck came in to be treated. She was laid on blankets near the fireplace. Four shamans stood around her. There were many men to sing and drum. These began to chant, beating their hand-drums. One shaman had a large knife. He made a feint at the woman’s neck. As soon as he pulled back his knife, all the spectators shouted, ‘‘Ho’, ho, ho, ho'!”, this being a wish for success. The other three practitioners examined the neck. One of them prophesied as to the issue of the operation. A fire was built on one side of the lodge. After the third song, the operator wetted the edge of the knife with his lips, heated it at the fire, and then brought it down to the woman’s neck. There was a general whoop. He began to cut. The blood came gushing forth. Then he removed the knife, having almost completely severed the patient’s neck. The doctors raised the woman, made her stand up, turned her head backwards, walked her once around the lodge, and then laid her down at the former place. One of them left the tent, and brought back a bunch of sage-brush. The operator rubbed it around her neck, and handed it to the second shaman, who did the same and passed it to the third colleague. After the fourth shaman had gone through the same operation, the patient was made to sit up and was as well as ever. No trace of blood was visible. She danced around the circle once, then she went home. She was told to prepare a feast whenever there was a shaman¬ istic performance, otherwise it would go ill with her. 1 he next peiformei was a man dressed in a bear-skin, holding a big knife in one hand, and a muzzle-loader in the other. He said, “Anyone may take my gun and shoot me.” One man took the gun, which was loaded. “Put powder in the barrel, and drop a piece of lead in there.” The man obeyed. Then he was told to stand about ten yards off. The bear-man growled like a bear, and imitated a bear in his movements. The man pointed the gun at him,

46

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

then the bear rushed on him, seized the gun, and with his knife, split it in two. Then he put the two halves together again, and the gun was as good as ever. Next, the performer again ordered the man to take the gun and shoot at him from the same place. He stripped, and began growling like a bear. He walked up to the man and bade him shoot at the fourth dash. When the bear-man rushed at his opponent the fourth time, he was shot above the navel. The barrel of the gun dropped. The blood began to ooze. The other shamans covered the performer with robes, and began singing over the prostrate form, saying that he was merely displaying his power. They danced around. Suddenly, the dead man made a movement. One man raised his robe. A fire was burning near-by. The bear-man rose, pointe'd at his wound, growled like a bear, jumped around, picked up a handful of fire, rubbed it on his wound, and fell to coughing, until he coughed up the bullet shot into him. They kept singing for a while, finally the performer walked off. Another shaman rose. He was dressed in a buffalo robe, and held two arrows in his hands. He sang several songs, then he announced that he conld not do much, nevertheless he did not like the other shamans to laugh at him for not doing anything. He asked two men to step up to him. Singing, he told these men to push the arrows through his body from side to side. They followed his directions until the arrows crossed. He showed them to the spectators, then he sang again, and the men pulled out the arrows. The blood came spurting out of his body. He simply rubbed fire over the wound and effaced every trace of it.

All these performers lived to be very old men.

Keating relates, on the authority of a French trader, how an Assiniboine shaman filled an empty keg with water, — apparently by the bursting of a secretly attached bladder, though pretending to rely on the strength of his incantations.1

The power of medicine-men is illustrated by the following Stoney narra¬ tive. One night Ben Tci'niki desired to go on a horse-raid against the Blackfoot. A member of his party filled a pipe for him, which Tci'niki extended, saying, “Kanu'za hini'ngaktatc maa'zukoktatc!” (“Let bad winds come!”) It became cloudy and began to rain. All the Blackfoot stayed within their lodges. The Stoneys approached unseen, stole horses, and made their escape. When at a safe distance, Tci'niki said, “Cena' eu'sta ” (“This is enough”), and the weather cleared.

The Stoneys use a number of love-charms. The commonest of these is a redolent herb rubbed on the body to attract women. Sometimes, the man drinks of a philtre and gives it to the unsuspecting girl coveted, who suddenly

1 Keating, I, p. 408.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

47

becomes enamored of him. A method of procedure probably borrowed from the Cree is for the young man to model an image both of himself and of the woman and to wrap the figures up together with some medicine.

Individual Revelations. It has been pointed out that frequently the religious experiences of shamans and ordinary tribesmen are fundamentally alike, the only difference being in the extent and character of the help secured. This conclusion is eminently applicable to the Assiniboine. Men went out to fast and pray in quest of mysterious power, or received instruction with¬ out special supplication, and it depended solely on the nature of the com¬ munication whether they became founders of dancing-societies, wakan/ practitioners, owners of painted lodges, fabricators of war shirts, or prophets. In every case, implicit obedience to the directions received was obligatory. Neglect of such instructions is said to be the reason why so many Indians have died within recent times.

If a person dreamt of an animal, he was not supposed to kill it or eat its flesh. A Stoney woman dreamt of a bear. Thereafter she made it a rule not to eat bear-meat. On one occasion, nevertheless, she tasted some; in consequence, she came near being transformed into a bear herself. She vomited the meat, and thenceforth never touched bear-meat. Another Stoney woman used to dream of buffalo. She was invariably able to tell beforehand where they would be herding. At last, the buffalo became in¬ censed because she always informed her people of their whereabouts, and ceased to visit her in her dreams. The mother of the woman who abstained from bear-meat also dreamt of a bear. She requested her husband to bring her a cub. She nursed it together with her own child, one at each breast. When grown up, the bear still remained in the camp. When addressed by his foster-mother, he nodded his head, but never paid any attention to other people. Men dreaming of a buffalo sometimes dreamt its age as well; in this case, they would spare animals of that age, but could kill all others. In battle, such a man might turn into a buffalo. When the enemy retreated, he would follow, hooking and killing them with his horns. An aged informant spoke of a man who had killed thirty hostile Indians in this manner. My Stoney interpreter does mot like to dream of anything he eats. He likes to dream of horses. Once he dreamt of a pinto, and sub¬ sequently found one. Some Stoneys used to dream of a little being living in the mountains. They would go to visit him, enter a hole in the mountain¬ side, and get to a village of little men. These little beings sometimes bark at night; in the night and early in the morning they can still be heard barking in the vicinity of the Saskatchewan. Jim Crack, when young, dreamt of a little man, who taught him to prepare medicines and to hunt everv kind of game; in consequence, he became a great hunter. As a

48

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

rule, the Stoneys say, people dreamt only when very young. Their familiars would instruct them for several years, and then leave them forever.

While driving past the Snake Butte on the Fort Belknap reservation, my interpreter told me the following typical story of supernatural experience. “Long ago people used to go and pray for mysterious power on the conical eminence at one extremity of the Snake Butte. Frequently, the supplicants were attacked by snakes, and relatives going in search of them would only find their skeletons. Nevertheless, one young man, setting at naught the advice of his friends, decided to go there. With him he took his two-edged (?) knife (mi'na ta'nga), stripped naked, and lay down. Suddenly, in the night, he heard a sound and beheld a large number of rattlesnakes ap¬ proaching him. He did not know what to do. In his frenzy, he began cutting off strips of flesh from his own body, anti fed them to the snakes. Then one very large snake rose from its hole, and thus addressed him. 4 1 am very thankful to you for feeding mv children. None of the other men have done this before, that is why they were all devoured. Come, follow me, there is some one that wishes to speak to you.’ 1 he youth went down into the hole and was ushered to a large blue tent, encircled by two large snakes. He was welcomed by two curly-haired black men, who spoke Assiniboine to him, and from them and the snakes he received religious instruction.”

The acquisition of supernatural power is further illustrated by the following personal narrative by Isto'-ega11'. “When I was a young boy, I once dreamt of something shaped like a saw that was whirling around. Another time I woke up to find myself in my brother’s lodge without know¬ ing how I got there. A third time I had a vision and stepped out of doors to look around. The fourth time a person came, and I was not alarmed. ‘There is someone outside that wishes to see you,’ the apparition said to me;

4 they want you over there, where the light is.’ I followed his directions, and got to a large man called Big- White-Man. He said, 4 1 have taken pity on you for a long time, and 1 am going to help you. Go over there to that tent. They will tell you what to do.’ I walked over, and entered the lodo’e. An old woman was sitting inside. ‘Grandchild,’ she said, ‘we pity you, that is why we have called you. Look how this lodge is painted.’ There was a yellow picture of the sun in the back of the tipi. 4 If you ever marry and erect your own lodge,’ she continued, ‘put this picture in the rear. It represents the sun. The sun is above us, and has power over the whole earth and the heavens. We are going to give you the right to this picture. If you obey, your family will rarely be taken ill, and if they do, they will re¬ cover. So long as you have the picture in your lodge, you will enjoy life together with your family.’”

The essential psychological similarity of all supernatural revelations,

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine

49

regardless of the specific content of the communication, is brought out by another experience cited on the same authority. “At a later period, I dreamt of several men, who told me I was wanted in a certain tent. I walked to the lodge indicated. It was painted red all over. Right over the door was a picture of a man with outspread arms. As I entered, I bumped against something; it was a bell. An old man was sitting inside. He said, ‘My son, I am the one who has summoned you. I shall give you the painted lodge (wio'ha) and teach you how to use it.’ To the right of the entrance there was the figure of a woman. I was told to copy it in my painted lodge. Then I was asked to look outside. About four feet from the ground there was painted a snake heading towards the east; it was faced by another snake from the opposite side. The space between the two animals was completelv covered with red paint. Their tails encircled the entire circum¬ ference of the tent-cover. Above the heads of the serpents there extended the figure of a man, while a small snake was coiled near the top. I re- entered. The top of the lodge was explained to represent the sky-opening, and the bell the heart of a man speaking. The inmate of the lodge showed me his heart, and I saw it looked like a bell. Then he told me I was to get the waka11' power to aid the sick. ‘Thus you will get plenty of horses and abundance of food, besides your family will always be well. When you doctor a patient, you must act as follows: — Near the fireplace plant one end of a tree-trunk not stripped of its foliage, and stick the other end into the flap-holes; get three or four dressed buffalo skins, and construct a little booth. Allow yourself to be tied hand and foot with buckskin thongs, then have tanned robes wrapped about you and tied from the outside. Have a rock put near the fireplace. It should be painted red and ought to rest on a clean piece of calico. Have a little dog suckling cooked and set near the fireplace. Two, or three, drummers are to sit on the right-hand side of the entrance; no one else must be admitted. Suspend a bell from the trunk. Next the old man taught me a song. He told me that one drum should lie by the painted rock. The two drummers were to begin singing, then I was to join in the chant. When they began singing the second time, another man was to ladle out the pup-meat into a pan and deposit it on the right side of the rock. In the interval between the third and fourth songs a spirit would call, ring the bell, and speak plainly, so that all the people could understand. A noise would be heard in the skies. The visitant was not to be seen, but onlv to be heard. He would ask what was the matter. ‘Then you must ask him for aid. He will first eat the pup. Then he will tell you whether the patient can be cured, and, if so, how soon. If a cure is mi possible, he will say so. He will disappear, but first he will free you in the twinkle of an eye, and hang all your bonds on the tops of the tipi-poles. This is the way to doctor people in a painted lodge.’

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

In a similar way Isto'-ega11' secured the ritual of the fool-dance.1 The sweat-lodge ceremonial was imparted to him while he ivas staying on a mountain-top, praying for supernatural power. A great spirit finally re¬ vealed the secrets of the sweat-lodge, ordering him to keep up the ceremony. If he obeyed, he would live to be an old man. The same spirit also informs him of future events.

The Stoneys sometimes allowed themselves to be tied up in a moose-skin for a night. A supernatural being would come and carry them up to the sky.

Ghosts. Though ghosts (wana'ri) do not appear to play a promi¬ nent part in the religious life of the people, narratives of individual encounters with them are not lacking. My Stoney interpreter was once riding in the dark, when he suddenly caught sight of a fire. He cried out, “What are you doing there ? 1 here was no reply. He rode on. Then he felt stones and

sticks thrown at him, not hurting, but merely touching him. The pelting continued for about half an hour. He was nearly frightened to death before he reached camp. Another Stoney was out one night, and suddenly heard a shot. Quite close he heard another shot. Suddenly a man of queer ap¬ pearance was standing on the other side of the fire. At first he looked at the Indian without saying a word. I hen he took his gun and pointed it four times at my informant’s face. The Indian was stiff with fright. The visitant looked at the man s anus, then he departed. Soon he was heard shooting outside again, and squirrels came running by. Then the Stoney heard him laugh, saying, “I missed them.” A little later, he said, “Now,

I have killed them.” The Indian started homewards. As he was walking along, the ghost said, \ ou will get to your mother’s lodge to-morrow morning. Before you get there, I shall give you four deer.” The Indian really shot four deer on his way.

According to Maximilian and De Smet,2 the souls of the deceased go south. I could not get any confirmation of this statement from the Stoneys, and my Ft. Belknap informant declared that the dead go towards the east (mdd'garan). There they pursue their old ways of living. Many Indians dieam that they are associated with the dead in a fine country and that, looking down, they find the earth to be an inferior place by comparison.

He Smet mentions an annual, or semi-annual, ceremony around the burial-scaffolds, or circles of skulls, at which the relatives of the deceased call the dead by their names and deposit offerings of meat. Even on other occasions puffs of smoke are sent to the dead, and memorial offerings of meat are burnt in their honor.3

1 See p. 62.

2 Maximilian, I, p. 446. De Smet, p. 942.

3 De Smet, pp. 941-942, 1142,

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

51

Sacred Pipe. To illustrate the esteem in which a medicine-pipe (tcanun'ba wakan/) was held by the Plains Indians, an Assiniboine told the following storv. ( )nce a big battle was taking place between the Bloods and the Assini¬ boine. They fought for a long time. Suddenly a Blood advanced, carrying a medicine-pipe. An Assiniboine shot and killed him, and seized the pipe. The victim’s horse ran back. There were so many Bloods around the slain man, that the Assiniboine could not count coup on him. The Bloods sat down in a row near the pipe-bearer’s body. An Assiniboine woman who had been captured and raised by the Bloods was dispatched to the Assiniboine, who were in a desperate position, having exhausted their supply of ammuni¬ tion. She said, “The Bloods declare that if you return the pipe they will cease fighting you, and you will be saved.’’ The Assiniboine considered the matter, and decided to return the pipe. The man who had shot the Blood packed his gun and approached the enemy. When they saw him, all laid away their guns and raised their arms in token of gratitude. 1 hey spread out their finest blankets, and he laid the pipe on it. They cried, “Ail”, to express their gratitude, and bade him sit on the blanket. T he dead man s closest relatives filled the pipe and made the Assiniboine smoke it. It was passed around once, then the stem was taken out and inserted in another bowl. They finished smoking. The Bloods heaped up a lot of blankets, moccasins, armlets, and other articles. They asked their visitor whether the Assiniboine were out of ammunition, and presented him with an abun¬ dant supply. They gave him their best gun, and bade him return with his gifts and distribute them among his people. Then the Assiniboine were to depart, which they would be allowed to do without molestation. Alien you are gone far away, we shall pick up our dead man, and go away. The Assiniboine joined his friends, delivered his message, and divided his presents among them. The woman messenger followed them to inform the Bloods as soon as they were out of sight, so that they could pick up their dead friend’s body. The Assiniboine, the narrator added, held their own medi¬ cine pipe in equally high regard.

White Buffaloes. Unlike the Teton Sioux and the Crow,1 the Assini¬ boine do not seem to have practised any elaborate ceremony, within recent times, in connection with the killing of a buffalo albino. 1 he slayer ot the animal merely refrained from eating the meat, and presented the skin to a chief, who usually compensated him with a substantial gift, such as a horse. The recipient then had the hide dressed, and wore it for a robe. The wearer of such a garment was nicknamed Pte-ska'-ha-i11' (White-Buffalo-Robe). The lack of a ceremonial celebration may, however, have been due to the

1 According to information gathered by the writer.

52

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV.

absence of a medicine-pipe among the Assiniboine during the last few decades. One informant, at least, recalled that the Assiniboine had carefully skinned a white buffalo and presented the hide to the Gros Ventre chief as one who owned a medicine-pipe. The donor received the recipient’s best horse as a compensation. The chief’s wives, after dressing the hide, painted it yellow, and it was ultimately offered to the sun.

Sweat-lodge. Though the same term, inihnbi, is applied in either case, a distinction is made between sweating in the ordinary sweat-lodge that may be put up by anyone and at any time,1 and the sweating ceremony conducted on the basis of supernatural experience, which was formerly practised once every spring, when the people were expecting the first thunder of the season.

The sudatory is built with twelve sticks, the entrance facing south. The fireplace is in the center, sunk about twelve inches deep, and grass is put around it. Twelve rocks are heated outside. When the celebrants, stripped naked, have entered the lodge, an attendant brings in the heated rocks, one by one, with a green forked stick. A bucket of water is set beside the fireplace. Outside the lodge, sweetgrass is burnt. The performer takes a large pipe, holds its bowl over the incense, then points the stem at it. Next, the pipe, filled with kinikkinik, is laid on top of the sweat-lodge, the stem pointing west. The master of ceremonies stands outdoors and sum¬ mons the spirit, calling him either “Ade' owan'” (my father + ?) or “Min- tun'gac” (my grandfather). Then he re-enters the lodge, which is covered up by the attendant. After a short time, the spirit enters and can be heard speaking, though only those within can understand his words. He tells them that the sweat-lodge has been erected in his honor. The spokesman then prays for a long and easy life for all the participants. The attendant brings in the pipe, which is laid across two peeled sticks, which are about a foot long and painted red. The master of ceremonies makes the motions of smoking over the fireplace, points the pipe east, south, west and north, prays as before, and lights the pipe. He smokes, and passes the pipe to the left. When all have smoked, the pipe is returned to the head-performer, who now holds it in his hands. The man sitting at the left of the entrance seizes one of the pipe-rests, the man at the right jacks up the other stick, and the master lays down the ]>ipe, thus formally closing the ceremony. As he does so, all within the lodge cry “ Ai!,” or “ (j’hihi!,” as a ceremonial ex- pression of thanks. The two men at the door voice the wish that they may live long enough to hobble along with a cane.

Ceremonial Buffalo Chase. In the spring, when everything gets green, a wNtca'cta wakan/, the manager of the sun-dance, will order his wives

1 The sweat-lodge of the Assiniboine is briefly referred to by Henry, p. 301-302.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

53

to cook for a feast and to put up the largest lodge. Then he bids a crier (cankpa/mini, or e'yaba'ha) invite the councilors. This officer goes around the camp-circle, summoning old and distinguished men. These gather in the council-lodge, and, while smoking, await the arrival of the tardier guests. In the meantime they recite stories of their personal adventures. When all have assembled, the host fills his black pipe. 1 his pipe is decorated with red horsehair symbolizing wounds, while the human hair on it represents scalps secured by the owner. The crier is seated at the right-hand side of the door. The chief passes the pipe to the crier, who lights it. The pipe is passed, smoked by each tribesman, and then returned to its owner, who says, “ I have something on my mind that I wish to speak about, but first we will eat.” Then the herald waits on the guests, putting the dishes and baskets outside as soon as they are emptied. lie lights a fire in the fireplace, takes some sweetgrass hanging in the lodge, and burns it for incense. 55 hile the grass is burning, the chief announces that he is going to pack up some tobacco and will build a medicine-lodge in the summer. He calls on four men to recount their deeds. Each of these rises, and in succession they tell how they have scalped enemies, loosened picketed horses, etc. After the end of the last story, the chief picks up some Canadian ( ?) tobacco, and hands it to the first of the four braves, who takes it, declaring that it is only on account of his valor that he is allowed to cut tobacco for the medicine-man.

“If I had not performed brave deeds, I should not dare to touch the tobacco. The other three men make similar declarations, each cutting the tobacco. The four pieces are returned to the chief and laid on a piece of buckskin. The medicine-man then selects four men not quite so distinguished as those previously appointed, and hands them several braids of sweetgrass. They recount their deeds, cut up the braids, and make declarations similar to those of their predecessors. The cut pieces of sweetgrass are laid before the chief, who wraps up each piece of tobacco with a piece of sweetgrass and puts them in a buckskin bag, which is tied with sinew. Then he announces, “In such-and-such a direction there are people living; I want this tobacco carried over there.” lie then takes the bags, ties them to a lodge-pole, and asks the councilors to announce to the camp that the tobacco must be carried to the people indicated. All smoke, then the guests file out. In the carnp- eircle the people ask the councilors what the meeting was about, and the old men tell what was said and done. Then, if a young man is very brave, he may volunteer to become a tobacco-carrier (cane'paxta ai sa). 1 lie volunteer’s relatives give a feast, at which the host proclaims, “This man is going to take tobacco over to such-and-such a band.” The guests rise, look at the young brave, and urge him to carry the tobacco through to the camp designated, regardless of danger from the enemy. Some evening the

54

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

youth informs the chief that he is ready. The chief assures him that what¬ ever supernatural powers he himself possesses will be invoked in his behalf, then the young man takes the bag and sets out on his errand.

A few days later, the messenger reaches the camp. The first man he meets is asked to direct him to the chief. He goes straight towards the lodge indicated, enters, and sets the tobacco down behind the fireplace. The chief immediately understands the import of this act, and issues orders to entertain the newcomer without as yet addressing a word to him. When the guest has eaten, the chief asks whether it was So-and-so that sent the tobacco. Then the young man informs him of all the details. The same night the chief bids his wives prepare a feast, and invites his people. All the old men come to his lodge, and as soon as they see the tobacco-bag they know what it means. They consider how far they may have to travel. The host takes, fills, and passes his pipe. When all have smoked, an attendant serves food. After the smoking, the chief rises. “This man has brought tobacco. You must declare whether you will smoke it or not. As for me, I am going to smoke it.” Then some old man will rise and say, “The chief has said he would smoke. We are under him, and if he smokes I will help him.” Then the chief unties the bag, takes out a piece of tobacco, mixes it with the inner bark of a red willow, fills the pipe, and himself lights it. This is in token of accepting the sender’s invitation. After smoking, he passes the pipe around; those who decline to follow pass the pipe on without smoking, but this is a rare occurrence. When one piece of tobacco has been consumed, the remaining pieces are re-tied, and the chief suspends them from a lodge- pole, and announces that he wishes this tobacco to be carried to such-and- such a camp that night. The news spreads about the camp. A herald calls upon the brave young men to offer their services. He holds a pipe for the braves to smoke: if the smoker remains silent he will not go; if he desires the commission he immediately announces his intention, and then smokes. Great honor is shown to the volunteer, who then starts out on his errand. This performance is repeated in the remaining camps until the last piece of tobacco has been delivered. Acceptance of the tobacco involves the obligation to be on the march towards the inviter’s camp within four days. The messengers return to their chiefs as soon as possible with a piece of ordinary tobacco in token of acceptance. If one of the four pieces of tobacco has not been accepted, it is preserved for the next year.

When the people from all the bands invited have assembled, the medicine¬ man appoints two officers and calls upon the Soldiers (agi’tcita ko’nagi- tciye) to dance. The officers notify the rank and file; a level dance-ground is selected, and the dance is held. The chief next orders a lodge to be con¬ structed of two ordinary lodges, which are put up in the center of the circle.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

55

This lodge is called wiyo'tl'bi; the Soldiers remain there permanently, and thence issue orders to the camp. One day a herald proclaims that the chase is to begin the next day, and appoints a man to scout for buffalo. The scout departs. After a while, he returns. As soon as he becomes visible, a heap of buffalo-chips is piled up about a hundred yards outside the peri¬ phery of the camp. All the people watch him from afar. If his reconnois- sance has been successful, he rides directly into the pile, knocking the chips right and left. Then everyone is happy. If he rides around the pile, it indicates that he has not been able to locate the game. In the former case he recounts the details of his scouting-trip. Then an old man (the chief ?) declares, “This man has located buffalo, no one shall go after them until the Soldiers give permission.” Everyone gets ready. The same evening, perhaps some other old man proclaims, “You must all set out in the morning; there will be two leaders (wintca'basi), and no one is to get in front of them.”

The next morning they set out. The two directors lead their moieties in complementary semicircles.1 2 If either moiety chases the buffalo pre¬ maturely, it is bad. The men chase the buffalo. After the hunt, all the meat is brought to the wiyo'tl'bi. The Soldiers feast and dance.

De Smet furnishes some details as regards the ceremonial observances connected with the buffalo-pen. The superintendent of the tribal hunt was the one to plant the medicine-pole in the pound, and in order to charm the herd he attached to it a streamer of scarlet cloth, a piece of tobacco, and a buffalo horn. Before the discovery of the game, he beat his drum and chanted every morning, consulting his guardian spirits. The scouts took with them a waka11' ball of buffalo hair, which they immediately sent to the director on locating a herd. During the absence of the ball, the master of ceremonies was obliged to fast, and this period of abstention was continued until the close of the hunt, with the limitation that he was permitted to eat animals captured within the pound.3 *

Miscellaneous Beliefs and Customs. The waning of the moon is caused by little rats, which completely devour it. After four days, there is a new moon.3

The Assiniboine, according to De Smet/ dread will-o’-the-wisps and bats as evil omens.

“ Our waiting-women arrived early, bringing wood and water. Washing appeared to me to be a ceremony of religion among the Osinipoilles; and I never saw anything similar among other Indians.” 5

1 Cf. J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 289.

2 De Smet, p. 1029.

3 Cf. Riggs, p. 165.

• De Smet, p. 945

5 Henry, pp. 288-289.

56

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Sun-dogs seen in winter indicate stormy weather for several days.

The rainbow is called the rain-trap. 1

Henry reports that it was customary to weep at a feast before commenc¬ ing to eat, — apparently in honor of deceased relatives.1

One of my informants once witnessed a solar eclipse. Some Indians cried, “Shoot at the sun, it is ceasing to shine!” They shot at it. An eclipse is regarded as an indication of impending death or illness. This belief is also noted by De Smet, who states that the shooting is intended to put to flight the enemy of the “Master of Life.” 2

When a young man sneezes, his mistress is speaking about him ; a corre¬ sponding belief is held with regard to a young woman’s sneezing.

It is believed that antelopes can turn into women and entice men away. Young men are warned not to play with women they find in the woods; on the prairie there is less danger. When hunting antelopes, young men like to stay together.3

De Smet states that the Assiniboine offered prayers and sacrifices to the bear and celebrated feasts in its honor. A bear’s head was often preserved in the camp for several days, mounted in a suitable position and decorated with scarlet cloth and other ornaments. “Then they offered it the calumet, and asked that they might be able to kill every bear they met, without acci¬ dent to themselves, in order to anoint themselves with his fine grease and make a banquet of his tender flesh.” 4 •

According to the same source, special honor was also shown to the wolf and the coyote. “Most of the women refused to dress a wolf skin at any price. 1 he howling of a coyote was interpreted by shamans as prophetic of visits, attacks, or the advent of buffalo, and the Indians frequently regu¬ lated their movements by these prognostications.5

Before drinking, many Assiniboines dipped the first finger of the right hand into the water and sprinkled the fluid into the air. Some claimed that this was done for the benefit of their deceased relatives.6

Ceremonial Organization.

Owing to the complete break-down of the social organization of the Canadian branch of the tribe, very little could be learned with regard to Stoney dances. The prairie-chicken dance (ciyo'-wagadji'bi) seems to have

1 Henry, p. 285-286

2 De Smet, pp. 939-940.

3 Cf. p. 200, and J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 4S0.

4 De Smet, p. 940.

6 De Smet, pp. 940-941.

G Maximilian, I, p. 457.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

57

been adopted from the Cree, — a supposition confirmed by the fact that the Indians of Ft. Belknap, who have preserved native customs to a much greater extent, knew of it only as a Cree dance. In position, the men’s feet formed an acute angle; in dancing, one foot alternately crossed the other. From time to time, the dancer bent down low, his hands resting on his thighs. A rattle is supposed to imitate the sounds made by prairie-chickens. In the war-dance (kitci'sabi wagadji'bi) the dancers carried scalps and knives painted red to symbolize the blood of the slain foes. Some painted half of their club handles in one color, and the remainder in another color. In a dance simply called wagadji’bi (dance) only men participated. Ihey wore breechclouts and eagle tail-feather headdresses. Half their faces were painted red, and the other half black. In addition to these, a squaw-dance, in which men and women danced in a circle towards the left, was performed within recent years. A skunk-dance was also mentioned, but without any further information. In the dances, both large drums and hand-drums were employed. Of regalia suggesting the ceremonial organizations of the Plains tribes, I only saw a porcupine headdress said to have been obtained from Sioux visitors and, in the Indian agent’s private collection, two feathered spears with bone points.

The information as to ceremonial life elicited during a much briefer stay at Ft. Belknap is given in the following pages.

Horse-dance. This dance differs from that of other societies in being primarily a religious ceremony, commonly regarded as on a par with the sun-dance. The Assiniboine are said to have obtained it from the Canadian Blac-kfoot about three generations ago. An Assiniboine visitor was told by the Northern Blackfoot that if he performed the ceremony he would obtain horses. They also instructed him to offer the pipe to Wakan'-ta'nga (Great Wakan'), to the sun, the thunder-bird, and the earth. My informant, Little-Chief, and his wife have joined in the dance ever since they have been about twenty years of age. Now, there are only about eight members left. When Little-Chief joined, he paid a bay and a black horse, two white horses, and a lodge with all its contents as an initiation fee. 1 his was surrendered to his sponsor, who invited the entire society, and divided the property among the members. At that time there were four headmen. Little-Chief had noticed the prosperity of the members of the society, and that was his reason for wishing to join. A candidate was taught the ritualistic songs, and was told that he would get many horses, enjoy prosperity and live to be an old man. Two lodges were united to form the dance-lodge. W ild berries and choke-cherries, stored in buffalo-skin bags, were prepared for a feast, at which all spectators were welcome. The weeds and grass in the back of the lodce were cleared for an oblong altar, about three feet by one and a half in

58

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

area. Here sweetgrass and juniper (?) needles were burnt for incense. All smoked the black pipe, then it was laid on the altar. The pipe was then offered to Wakan'-ta'figa, the sun, the thunder-bird, and the earth. Little- Chief was in the habit of paying some other old man to offer the pipe for him. This o lie ring was accompanied by a prayer in behalf of the families of the celebrants, as well as of the whole tribe, and for plenty of horses. A dance followed, women joining their husbands. The performers did not change their position in the circle while dancing. Two drummers sang, a third man sounded a bell (?), and eagle-bone whistles were blown. No special costume was worn. Some of the members always kept a horse picketed by their lodge, but Little-Chief did not follow this practice. On joining the society, Little-Chief received a wo'tawE, i. e., war-medicine, consisting of a wanfaga ta'nga (an unidentified bird) skin, a weasel skin, a weasel-skin bonnet, and a square piece of buffalo skin. When going to war, he used the buffalo skin for a saddle-blanket. He would paint his horse’s legs with a representation of the lightning in red, and put yellow paint around its eyes and above its tail. Each man painted his horse differently, and each candi¬ date would also receive somewhat different gifts on becoming a member.

Sun-dance (Wo'tijax; Stoney: Wahl'amba wagitji'bi).1 The sun-dance and the horse-dance are regarded as the two most sacred ceremonies of the Assiniboine. A hile, however, the horse-dance is the property of a society, the annual erection of the sun-dance lodge is the work of a single man possess¬ ing special qualifications. Within recent years, several men have tried to put up a sun-dance lodge without having the prerequisite supernatural experi¬ ences, and have failed in each case. At one of these attempts, referred to independently by two individuals, a storm rose after the formation of the camp-circle and blew down many of the lodges ; and on the next morning, the wife of the builder died unexpectedly. At present, there is only one Assiniboine capable of conducting the ceremony. Though not himself in any special rapport with supernatural powers, he received the necessary in¬ structions from his father, who had inherited them in the direct male line through six generations of ancestors and had himself claimed a peculiar relationship to the thunder-bird. The present incumbent has participated in the sun-dance from the age of nine. Owing to the relatively short period of time that had elapsed since his father’s death, he did not feel disposed to erect the last annual lodge. Accordingly, the Assiniboine were obliged to invite a visiting Cree possessing the indispensable qualifications to superin¬ tend the sun-dance ceremony. At present, the sun-dance is combined with the Fourth of July festivities sanctioned by the government. As the writer

1 Cf. Curtis, III, 128-132.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

59

did not visit the reservation before August, lie had no opportunity to witness any part of the ceremony, nor was it possible to make a systematic study from the data of informants. The following very meagre notes are, accordingly, merely offered for what they are worth.

In the winter, when the people of a band decided to have a sun-dance,1 they all brought clothes for the dance. They got tobacco, tied it up in a bag- having sweetgrass attached to its outside, and dispatched a messenger to each of the several bands that were to participate in the ceremony. The chief of the invited band would address the tobacco in prayer before his council, and announced where the dance was to be held. 1 hen all moved towards the site of the inviting party’s camp, and formed part of the camp- circle.

When all the people had gathered in a circle, two lodges were taken down and joined to form a single lodge facing south. In this lodge a prayer was addressed to the earth, and tobacco was buried in the ground. Around the fireplace the earth was dug out to the depth of about 2 inches in a chele from 8 to 10 feet in diameter. A fire was built, eagle-feather fans being used to fan the blaze, for if the people blew on the fire they would cause a v indy day . Two pipes with black bowls and stems painted red were filled with tobacco and laid inside the circle, the bowls approaching the circumference. The hands of the performers were not allowed to touch the circulai plot, which represented the earth and the sky. The men inside the lodge prayed. At this time the pledger and three old men seated themselves in the four corners of a square, one young man sitting between two old men to light the pipes. The pledger requested his three companions to bid the people be quiet and not get too close to the lodge. One of the young men 2 removed a coal from the fireplace by means of a stick, and lit both pipes. The pipes were passed around in a circle until they returned to the pledger. 1 he pledger recited a prayer, pointed the pipes towards the four cardinal directions, praying that all his people might live long and have a plentiful supply of buffalo, and laid them down. All the spectators cried, “Ai!” in token ot gratitude. In the back of the lodge a rawhide rope was stretched between two poles. From this rope were suspended offerings' of red flannel and calico. I he people took a buffalo-hide scraped free of hair except along the back and tail, and laid it before the door. An old man summoned the young men and

1 It is doubtful whether it is justifiable to draw a sharp line between votive and annual sun- dances as some writers are inclined to do. From the foregoing notes and De Sme ’s account (see p ’fil), it appears that the Assiniboine ceremony was annual, yet we find it stated, t ;h« t Wanotan, a Yanktonai chief, performed the sun-dance in fulfilment of a vow -that ha ■woul

erect the lodge if he returned in safety from a dangerous journey (Keating, I, pp. 430 431). erecmhe lodge ^ ^ ^ flUed by the pledger or.one of the younger assis¬

tants.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

women, announcing that the singing was to commence. He took four coals successively from the fire, depositing each in one of the corners of a square. In each corner sweetgrass was burnt for incense. The young men formed a semicircle within the lodge. The pledger lifted the hide, went around, and smoked it at each of the corners. Then he swung it in the air three times, and the fourth time threw it before the prospective singers, who belabored the hide with sticks, shouting, “Ai!” The pledger took his rattle and sat down among the crowd. The singers began to chant.

The preliminary singing was repeated during the three following nights. The fourth night, the singing continued until daylight. The figure of the new moon was traced on the ground and earth was heaped upon it. The circle then lost its sacred character, being superseded by the figure of the moon, on which sweetgrass was burnt. At daybreak the singers separated, going to their homes and leaving the pledger alone in the lodge. In the morning the pledger summoned men distinguished for bravery. All dressed up in their war-garments, with head-bands of coyote and other skins, and gathered in the lodge. The pledger took his pipe and, holding it for each brave, asked them to smoke. These men were dispatched to fetch the cen¬ tral pole of the medicine lodge. After they had departed, the entire camp- circle began to follow in their wake, the pledger leading afoot. The braves selected the site of the dance, marking it with a heap of willow branches. The pledger halted three times on the way. The fourth time the members of the party smoked. The braves returned running, singing their war-songs, and imitating the howling of coyotes and wolves. The pledger shook his rattle and sang. The braves chose a spokesman, who handed a willowr branch to the pledger, telling him that he was the first to see the camp of the enemy. The speaker never mentioned whom he had killed, but was sup¬ posed to refer to his deed in this indefinite way.

The people camped on the selected site. All the old men traveled about the camp circle, bidding the people dress and paint up, and instructing them what to do. When all were prepared, some men went around the circle, picking up young women on the way and crowding them into the center of the camp. Each young man selected a girl for a partner to ride on the same horse with him, the pledger led the procession, and the people followed him towards the cottonwood-tree selected by the old scouts. Around the tree the four corners of a square were used to burn incense in. The pledger addressed the tree, informing it that it was going to be the center-pole of the lodge, and praying that the tribe might prosper and the children of his family grow up. He smoked, shook his rattle, and sang. Two men with axes took places, one on each side of the cottonwood. They made three passes with their axes, and, at the fourth movement, began to chop the tree down.

1909.1

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

61

The spectators cheered as soon as the tree was seen to fall, and shot blank cartridges over it. When it rested on the ground, they stripped off the leaves for good luck. Then the people returned to camp, the pledger again taking the lead. The men dragged the tree along with ropes. When the center pole had arrived at the site of the dance-ground, the bark below tlie fork was carved into a crescent-shaped figure symbolizing the sun. Below this figure was carved an eagle representing the thunder-bird. Near the foot of the tree a buffalo head was carved, which was said to represent the luck of the Indians in chasing buffalo. According to some accounts, there was also a two-faced figure carved for the lodge (anu'ngi'nde).1 ihe young people then got rafters and brush for the lodge, hrom one prong of the fork a piece of red flannel was suspended as an offering to W akan'-tanga, to the other was attached a similar offering to the thunder-bird. Branches representing a nest were placed on the fork, and tied with a skin. 1 he cottonwood was raised by means of two lodge-poles, each lifted by two men. When all the lodge-poles were in position, cherry bushes about two and a half feet high were cut down and used to form an enclosure, within which the celebrants danced. At the back of the lodge they marked a square, and a painted buffalo skull was placed on this altar. A stick, serving as a tamper, was planted in the ground in front of the skull, to which an offering

of tobacco wTas made. _

The actual dance formerly lasted three days and two nights, during which the performers* fasted and did not sleep. Eagle-bone whistles were used. My informant professed never to have heard of torturing practices in the Assiniboine sun-dance, but the Stoneys described the well-known process of running skewers through the breast, adding that the celebrant s hands were tied behind his back so that he could not release himself .

De Smet’s account of an Assiniboine sun-dance 2 is of interest, principally as illustrating the composite character of the ceremony. Throughout the year, he relates, the Assiniboine look forward with eagerness to the time for erecting the medicine-lodge, which seems to have been the earliest part of spring. Three or four hundred families gather and construct the sacred lodge under the directions of a single superintendent. A sacred pole is raised, from which medicine bags and trophies are suspended. '1 o the tops of their lodge-poles the tribesmen attach their offerings of skins, garments,

1 According to Curtis (III, PP. 128-129), the Double-Face thus represented is a spirit which appears to devotees in the sun-dance, telling them that he was searching foi those tha

mltZmce to him. "He ™ quickly up**! » W » “ d" l.ou* »

arms or the tips of fingers. Double-Face came also to members of war-parties, and though his two faces were exactly similar, his voices were unlike, and by this difference warriors weie enabled to know whether success or failure awaited them.”

2 De Smet, pp. 937-939.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

etc. to the Great Spirit. The master of ceremonies addresses a prayer for the common .weal, offering a pipe to the Great Spirit, the sun, the four quarters, the water, and the land. This is followed by a general smoke, the great “medicine dance,” and various dances in honor and imitation of buffalo, deer, and other animals. On the second day of the ceremony proper, there are magical performances by the medicine-men. The third day is largely occupied with banqueting, the favorite dish being dog-meat. While purely social dances were performed for amusement, “a band of young men form the great religious dance, and make a vow to the thunder, or voice of the Great Spirit. Then they perform various dances, which last three whole days and nights, with only slight intervals, without their taking the least nourishment or refreshment.” At the termination of the ceremony, which lasts about ten days, each person tears or cuts his sacrificial offering to preclude its appropriation by fellow-tribesmen, whereupon the several bands taking part in the ceremony separate.

Fool-dance ( Wintgo'gax watci'bi). When about sixteen years of age, Isto'-ega11' was sleeping in the presence of his family. Suddenly he woke up and found himself in another lodge. From time to time he dreamt that a man came to the door, beckoning to him. He would try to follow the visi¬ tant, but as soon as he was outside the apparition vanished. This occur¬ rence was frequently repeated. Once he slept outdoors, close to a tazu'k- busli. He dreamt that a man came, saying, “Let us go to my camp.” He rose, and began to walk, but then there was no one to be seen. Some time after this dream, Isto -egan' was sleeping in his lodge, and the same man appeared. “They want you over there, let us go.” My informant followed to a little hill. There he saw a jet-black rock, a white rock, a tazu'k-bush, and an old woman. The woman said, “ Grandchild, sit on that black rock.” He sat down, lhe rock began to move, and a crow flew off. Then he was asked to sit on the white rock. He sat down. It moved, and when he 'arose he saw a white owl flying away. “Sit on the bush.” Isto'-ega11' leaned against the bush. Then the old woman said, “You are going to manage the fool-dance, good will come to you therefrom.” Then she gave him the requisite instructions. Near the bush there was standing a man in dirty clothes, wearing a mask with eye-slits. “That is you, you will dress m this way.” He looked at the figure. “Whenever there is a camp ” she continued, “you can make the fool-dance. It looks dirty, but all the people enjoy it. If you fail to conduct it, you will not enjoy life long. Perform it at least once a year.” He promised to obey. He went to a lodge about as large as the one now occupied by him. There was a stick planted in the center of the tent; it was decorated with red flannel and had deer-hoofs tied to it. He looked at it carefully. “Some Fools are going to come in-

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

63

watch their performance.” Then fourteen or fifteen Fools approached in single file, each packing some meat. Isto'-ega11' noted all their actions. In obedience to his instructions, Isto'-ega11' still conducts the ceremony,— in part by proxy, owing to his total blindness. At the proper time, he borrows a dance-lodge, which is put up by his wife. After the erection of the lodge, he invites an old man to his home, asking him to assist in the ceremony. This helper is paid for his services after the. dance, I loth the head-performer and his deputy betake themselves to the dance-lodge, where the latter makes masks for himself and his employer. These two masks differ from those of the other dancers. Next, the deputy goes around the camp, asking for canvas and old clothes. He returns to the master of the ceremonies, and makes masks for the prospective dancers. As yet, no one, as a rule, knows who is going to join; in some cases, however, the relathes of people who have recovered from serious sickness volunteer in conform¬ ity to a previous vow, and are accordingly chosen. On completion of the masks and the head-performer’s garment, which consists of a woman s dress fringed at the bottom, the deputy dons the leader’s dress and mask, puts a whistle in his mouth, takes a bow and two arrows in his left hand and the deer-hoof rattle in his right, and begins to walk around the camp. He summons people by pointing the rattle-staff at them; sometimes he enters a lodge, sometimes he merely raises the door-flap. Some men join willingly, while others run away. But no one refuses outright after being pointed at, otherwise a misfortune would befall him or his family. W hile the deputy is going around, Isto'-ega11' remains in the dance-lodge; if he were not blind he would summon the dancers himself, and his assistant would stay in the lodge. If any one declines to go, but wishes to avoid evil consequences, he gets some new cloth or some tobacco and takes this offering to the ehie1’ celebrant, explaining that he does not wish to join in the performance The master of the ceremony then sends word to his associate that one of thr elect has been excused and that an additional participant is required. Wh* a sufficient number of dancers have been designated, the deputy returns and informs the master what tribesmen have been chosen. There is no age limit, but older men once predominated/ and formerly distinction in war

seems to have led to a man’s selection.

The Fools immediately go to the dance-lodge to obtain their masks. The dress varies, but is supposed to be as odd as possible. 1 he men nowa¬ days often make one legging of gunnysack and the other of an old slicker (oiled raincoat). When all have arrived, they rise, the master standing in the rear. The Fools form a circle around him, and dance up and down. Four times they dance while he sings, then Isto'-ega11' led by his assistant, starts outdoors, followed by the Fools in single file. After walking some

64

Anthropological Papers American M-useum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

distance, he halts, and his followers surround him to perform their dance. This is repeated four times. After the fourth dance, they proceed to a spot where a steer, representing a buffalo, of course, has been killed and is lying with its face to the south. Stealthily they disperse and sneak up to the steer, the master leading, his bow and arrows ready to shoot, while his fol¬ lowers are tiptoeing behind. The leader draws his bow as if to shoot, and blows his whistle. Then all the Fools fall back, some rolling; over as if caught and felled to the ground. These men lie flat on the ground, then they gradually peep up, rise, and again approach the steer on tiptoe. This time they get closer to the animal. The same proceedings are repeated. The third time they creep still closer. The fourth time, when the master of ceremonies actually shoots his arrow, all run up and surround the buffalo. They dance four times as in their dance-lodge. The fourth time the head performer takes his deer-hoof rattle, and his followers range themselves in a row behind. He makes a motion as if to throw his rattle on the steer. The men all whistle. He repeats this four times, at last he actually throws the rattle. Though aimed at a distance of from twenty to twentv-five feet, the stick always falls in the proper position on the steer’s back, and never rolls off. 4 he master sings, the following being two specimen songs :

iPte'he xo'dane indu'

iBuffalo horn gray (i. e. a gray-horned buffalo) just now t’ewal'ahe en i'nowaji"' waku'dehe.

I have killed, I went and stood there, I shot it.

1 ata'nga-ne winya'ox hiya'enS, waga'x-idjeno.

Buffalo this like the sun goes around, it has been knocked over.

O'kca11 to'bagia' wawa'tcino' nawa'bundo.

Around four times they danced, making a dancing noise.

I ata'nga-ne o'kca tb'bagia' nonan'waDmu-no' o'kcan.

Buffalo this around four times they are stamping around.

Iya'jone yajo'bo! ly'agica-bo' !

Bone-whistles blow! Yell!

All the Fools now seat themselves in a circle around the steer. The leader fills his pipe, and prays to the six cardinal directions, then smokes, and passes the pipe. When they are done smoking, the steer is butchered in the customary way, then there is another dance around the animal. Finally, each one packs a part of the meat. Paunches are filled with the bull’s blood and suspended from the neck or attached to the belt of each member. Hav¬ ing packed the meat, they once more dance around the remains of the carcass, then they start back towards the dance-lodge. They are followed by a

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

65

laughing crowd. When the spectators press too close on the performers, the latter scare them away by bespattering them with the blood from their paunches. The people immediately fall back. After making the circuit of the camp, the procession approaches the lodge. On reaching the door, they turn to the left, walk around the tent once, then halt, and loosen the fastenings above the entrance. The leader blows his bone whistle, and three times pretends to throw his meat through the smoke-hole into the lodge. While he goes through these motions, his companions whistle. The fourth time he actually throws the meat. If he succeeds in throwing it in, he enters, and sits down. If he fails, he may also pass inside, but the meat is forfeited, for neither he nor any of the other members are allowed to pick it up, and it may be appropriated by any outsider. The members, one by one, go through

Fig. 15 (50-7112). Fool-Dance Mask. Length, 43 cm.

the same performance, and successively join their leader in the lodge. When all have assembled, they begin to undress, and then separate. The entire ceremony occupies the space of from two to four hours, but is said to have formerly lasted a whole day. Beginning from the time the dance-lodge is left, the performers are supposed to “talk. backwards” (wintgo'gax ia'bi), that is, to express exactly the reverse of whatever meaning they wish to con¬ vey, whether speaking among themselves or to the spectators, d bus, if a man is thirsty, he must say, “I am not thirsty, I don’t wish to drink.” The headman is called wintgo'gagaje, the rank and file wintgo'ga opa'je, the common term applied to crazy men being wPtgo'tku.

Plate hi shows masked fool-dancers in characteristic positions. Three masks were purchased. For one of them (Fig. 15) two strips of canvas, about 43 cm. long and 38 cm. wide, were superimposed one upon the other, sewed together, and fringed at the top and sides. To the middle of either

66

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Fig. 16 (50-7114).

Length, 45 cm.

Fool-Dance Mask, Front.

edge there is attached a tin disc about three inches in diameter, appar¬ ently representing an earring. The front of the mask is decorated with

vertical lines of white clay and at either edge with a pair of irregular, approximately par¬ allel curves, symmetrical with those on the opposite edge. The ludicrously crooked nose is formed of cloth sewed to the face and enclosing a grass stuffing. There are very small eye-slits and also an opening for the mouth. The back of the mask lacks both the nose and the vertical clay decoration. The eyes are surrounded with symmetrical daubings of clay extending down the cheeks. Below the mouth-slit an elongated curve of clay extends from side to side, and below the top-seam there is an inverted crescent¬ shaped figure. Another mask (Figs. 16, 17) differs in several particulars. The nose is neither sewed on nor marked in any way, the parallel stripes are lacking on both sides, and colored deco¬ ration in red, blue, black and yellow takes the place of the white clay. In the front, a series of isosceles triangles differentiated by color and with bases coincident with the line of the top-seam are flanked by two blue rectang- ular crosses.

Grass -cl ance. ( Peju'-ow -

ate or PejPminknange o'watc) 1 .

This is regarded as the dance,

Fig. 17 (50-7114).

Length, 45 cm.

Fool-Dance Mask, Back.

in a modernized form, of the agi'tcita, or Soldier, organization, which is called mbkna'nge (untranslated in this connection).2 The drum used

1 Cf. De Smet, p. 1059.

Kiggs s Dictionary gives mi-hna-Ica = to put in under the girdle; to wear round the

1909.]

Loivie, The Assiniboine.

67

in this performance is made from a hollow log, decorated partly with red, and partly with blue, flannel, symbolizing wounds and slain enemies respectively; brass tacks are driven into the wood. The center of the drum¬ head is occupied by a yellow circle, the sun, outside of which a dark-blue circle, the sky, containing four red lines, is drawn. '1'here are horse-tracks between the two circles. The red lines symbolize either horses or wounds. Of the drumsticks, four are of a ceremonial character. These are forked, and wrapped with beadwork for about half their length; at the end are tied white eagle feathers and hair from a horse’s tail dyed in different colors corresponding to the color of horses stolen by the owner of the drum. Be¬ fore the commencement of the dance, the ceremonial drumsticks are handed to four distinguished men. The first man hits the drum once, and publicly disposes of some of his property. The other three honorary drummers follow suit. Then the four again hit the drum one after another, and are relieved by six actual incumbents wielding as many ordinary drumsticks.

The ceremonial' dress common to all members consists of a porcupine headdress, otherwise the costume of the rank and file may vary ad libitum. They commonly wear buckskin leggings with a fringe of weasel-skins or human hair. A few formerly bore shields with pictographic representations of their exploits. It is customary for a grass-dancer, to indicate his martial achievements in a definite way. If he has slain an enemy, he wears an eagle- feather. If the victim was a Sioux, a skunk-skin is sewed to the heel of the dancer’s moccasin; two such skunk-skins denote two Sioux slain by the wearer. An X painted on the dancer’s body, or — more distinctive still - an acute angle pointing upward with a small circle resting on the apex, represents a wound. Some men put these designs on their shirts. The angular horseshoe design (an inverted U) indicates participation in a horse-raid, and may be repeated indefinitely in a vertical column, according to the number of expeditions. The representation of a pipe on the dancer s back shows that he has been captain of a successful war-expedition. Only the four head-dancers are distinguished by feather-belts, one of which, be¬ longing to the leader (itan’tca), is dyed red. These officers are assisted by two “whippers.” 1 2

When the leader decides on having a dance, he orders the crier to bid the people prepare a feast. It is absolutely indispensable to cook a dog for this entertainment, otherwise no dance is held.- 1 he crier next calls the members

1 In an account of the buffalo-hunt, two leaders and four criers are referred to.

2 It is curious to note, in this connection, that the Stoneys never kill dogs. Some time ago, I was told, a party of Dakota came to visit the Stoneys, and desired to kill some dogs for a feast but their hosts would not permit it. In their disappointment, the Dakota made up a song’ the words being: “Cu'figa waka"' wani'ndjatc” (There are no sacred dogs here). The Assiniboine on the contrary, as noted by De Smet, p. 938, freely indulged in dog-feasts. As this is reported of the Yanktonai (Keating, I, 433) and other Dakota tribes, the Stoneys must have lost the custom during the recent period of separation.

68 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

of the society. This summons is repeated four times, and everyone is ex¬ pected to be present after the fourth proclamation. The last man to appear has a large bucket of food placed before him. He is obliged to eat up all the food on the spot. If he does not wish to do so, he must inform the four headmen, or the two whippers. He is then required to pay a forfeit, such as a blanket, to some old man or woman.1 Then the bucket is removed, and the food is served to other spectators.

One of the performers gives up a blanket, on which the whippers spread the officers’ feather-belts. The blanket is not reclaimed by its owner. The leaders seat themselves behind their belts. The bucket containing the dog- meat has been placed outside, near a large bowl. The singers begin to sing. At the fourth song, the officers rise, put on their belts, and dance around in a circle, moving towards the right. This is repeated three times. The fourth time the leader, standing near the bucket, shows how he used to dodge the missiles of the enemy. Finally, he touches the bucket, goes around in a circle and sits down, followed by his associates, who successively go through the same actions. One of the leaders rises. The whippers begin to dip up the dog-meat into the bowl with sticks the ends of which are wrapped with quill-work. The standing officer walks around, and selects eight distinguished warriors, — men who have been wounded in battle or have scalped an enemy. The eight braves are seated in a row behind the pan. The whippers ladle out eight portions, — the four paws, the head, and three other pieces. The officer, taking up a long-handled wooden spoon decorated with feathers and horsehair at one end, approaches the drummers, who begin to sing. He then dances all alone. At the fourth dance he stops before the warriors. Now the eight portions are to be dis¬ tributed. The first brave selected is entitled to the head. The man with the belts takes the spoon, touches the dog’s head, and brings it close to the warrior’s mouth. The brave touches the food with his tongue or lips. In similar fashion the remaining portions are taken to the other warriors. If one of the eight has slept with any woman during the previous night, he must decline to touch the meat, or a misfortune would befall him the next day. The same taboo applies to the drummers, but not to the dancers. The whippers also get a piece of dog, the officers waiting on them. Those who have not been obliged to decline, then eat, dropping bones into the bowl. A man waits on the ten eaters with a pipe, and each smokes in succession . The dog’s skull-bones are kept, the other bones are thrown away.2 The contents

_ 1 This was a custom of the Omaha Mandan feast, J. O. Dorsey, (a), 273; it is mentioned as_an Assiniboine custom by Maximilian, I, p. 445.

2 Some sort of ceremony with the dog-bones seems to have been common among the Dakota. Cf. Keating, I. p. 433, and Miss Fletcher, (b).

1909.]

Loivie, The Assiniboine.

69

of the other buckets are served to the rest of the people, then a dance starts, in which all may join. It is customary for the officers to give away their insignia. The chief looks about for a conspicuously brave man, seats him in his own place, unties his belt, and surrenders it to the prospective chief; the other leaders follow suit. Each recipient says, “In return for the belt, I shall give So-and-so a horse.” A new man assumes the ownership of the pipe smoked at the ceremony, and the drum and drumsticks likewise change hands. The heralding, however, continues to be performed by the same functionary.

Another dance follows. The man with the whistle blows it whenever the performers show signs of exhaustion, and they are obliged to continue, j At last, some outsider, taking pity on the drooping dancers, approaches the ; drum, hits it with a stick, and retires. This act absolves the performers 1 from continuing. When they have stopped, the outsider announces that he | is going to give away a horse or a gun. A smoking-song is next started.

I Two women are engaged to help singing. Everyone seizes his pipe, and i begins to smoke. There follows an intermission, during which people are j free to dance or cease dancing, as they please. The herald next approaches i the dog’s skull, points it towards the four quarters, and lays it down with the i nose pointing east. The eight braves dance four times around the bones. After the fourth dance, the first one picks up the skull, and points it in the direction of the country where he accomplished a certain deed, of which he then recites the story, and finally lays it down. The second warrior picks it up, and goes through the same mode of procedure, which is likewise fol¬ lowed by the remaining six men. But if a man has had to decline to eat on account of recent sexual intercourse, he cannot himself lift the skull, but merely indicates the direction with his hand, whereupon one of the whippers points the skull for him. The last of the braves may throw the skull away. If at any time during the ceremony a feather, or any other part of the cere¬ monial raiment, falls to the ground, a man who has killed an enemy picks it up, and, before handing it to its owner, recites a war-story.1

Sometimes, a man publicly proclaims that he renounces his wife and that anyone so desiring may shake hands with him and take her for his own. In token of this act, he wears a square piece of buckskin with an aperture for the head. If, however, the divorce alters his mind at a later date and seeks a restitution of his marital rights, the minkna/nge, at the next dance, force a woman’s dress over him, call him a woman, and expel him from the society, though he is permitted to keep his wife.

1 According to an oral communication by Mr. Radin, the taboo against a mail’s picking up his own feather at this dance occurs among the Winnebago. It is characteristic of the Omaha “Mandan feast.” "If one of the guests lets fall anything by accident, lie forfeits it and cannot take it up. Anyone else can appropriate it.” (J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 273). Cf. also ibid., pp. 330-332, 353.

70

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

The Soldiers liked to select well-to-do men for members of their society.

pardoned offenders against the game-laws.1

Other Dances. The no-flight dance (nampe'c owa'tc) is said to have originated with the Sioux. An Assiniboine was once captured by the Sioux. His friends thought he had been killed, but after a long time he returned and introduced the no-flight dance. According to another account, the dance was derived from the Xea'ktukta, an unidentified Plains tribe. A woman is also credited with having dreamt the dance. After giving the ceremony to the people, she told her son that her husband was going to be killed by the Sioux in the young man’s presence. While the dance was being performed, she sang this song: —

“Mi hi'nknane tewa'xinax, epa'he-jeha11', watci'ngec epa'he;

My husband I love, I say just now, I don’t want him, I say;

(i. e., apparently, “I loved my husband, but now I don’t want him). Her husband was killed, as she had predicted. The regalia of this dance con¬ sisted of rawhide rattles decorated with feathers and flannel, two spears wrapped with otter-skin, and buffalo-horn headdresses. There were some¬ times as many as thirty members. In battle, they were never supposed to flee; if they attempted to do so, their leaders could kill them. The spear- bearers were obliged to plant the spears in the ground and thereafter were not permitted to abandon them. However, if another man removed the spear for them, the officers were absolved from this obligation.

After dreaming the ceremony a number of times, an Assiniboine named Butt-Horn and living at Ft. Peck is said to have started the fox-dance (toka'n 2 owa'tc). The dance was performed several times every summer, there were four leaders (intan'tcambi), two whippers (wintca'-gax a'bi = them they whip), and an indefinite number of ordinary members. The leaders wore a red-fox skin around their necks, and a cloth headband with a strip of a fox-tail hanging down at the side and the upper jaw and nose of a fox sewed to it. they had hooked spears wrapped with fox-skin. The whippers bore whips decorated with fox-skins, and were supposed to touch the legs of the performers with them to make them dance. The step itself was like that of the modern scjuaw-dance, the performers gliding around in a circle in accompaniment to drums. After the termination of the dance, the four headmen took the lead, walked once around the lodge, and then passed out in single file. They walked around the camp, halting four times,

1 Cf. p. 36.

2 J. O. Dorsey’s Tuka'la? Cf. Dorsey, (a), pp. 354-355.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

71

and at each stop went through the same performance. Then they separated. The leader’s song was as follows: —

Tato'u'yene waci'wal'yeno Manka' oxno'ga

By these four directions I guide myself. The earth holes yu'han waci'wal'yeno. Manka' tcoga'n yange'nu11.

all I guide myself (?). The earth center of holes are dug (?).

Manka' tcoga'n xoga' ta'nga awa'makinag,

In the center of the earth badger big is watching over me,

inyange'nu“.

all holes are dug (?).

Miye' wagl'atca ade'-wa'yeno, hotu'mbino.

I the Thunder-bird I have for a father, the thunder is rolling.

Xoga' tahga ade'-wa'yeno mi-hoku'n, awa'makna'gino.

Badger big I have for a father under me, he is watching me.

The officers of the society met before the dance. At this council, some might decide to give away their regalia to one of the rank and file. In this case, each one announced to his colleagues to what member he wished to present his insignia. This must be kept secret for that day. The next day the officers invited the other members. If one of these had accidentally dis¬ covered the leader’s choice, he did not appear at the assembly. The dance was performed in the usual way, but after a certain length of time the whippers instructed the drummers to sing a certain song indicative of what was going to happen. The whippers stood at the entrance and declared that no one must leave the lodge. All the leaders danced. Each of the abdicants then selected and announced his successors, presenting him with the insignia of the higher degree. The recipients offered tanned robes, horses, saddles, etc. to their electors. By giving away their paraphernalia, the officers merely resigned their degree, not their membership in the society. No initiation fee was required of men joining as ordinary members, but usually only men of wealth were solicited to participate.

Regarding the aju-'owatc (crazy-dance?), there are only two Assiniboine living who can give first-hand information. The dance is said to have originated among the Crow Indians, having been introduced a long time ago by Kari'ota'nga, a half-Crow and half-Assiniboine. The significance of the word “aju'” is somewhat obscure; it was distinctly explained to have no reference to any such clownish proceedings as were characteristic of the fool-dance. The members wore a breechclout and belt, brass armlets and bracelets, and a bead or bone necklace. Each one carried a quiver on his back, and held a doubly bent bow in his left hand and an arrow pointed downward in his right. Whenever the members desired to have a dance,

72

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

they notified the leader, and if he and two whippers consented the dance was held. Hand-drums were used. The m‘en danced around in a circle. While dancing, one of them suddenly took his arrow and shot it so that it fell right among the crowd, but no one was ever hit. There was no age qualification for admission to the society. At one of their meetings, the members discussed the desirability of candidates. Men who were known as misers were never chosen. If a man had been elected, he was summoned to the lodge, and gave away robes and horses. The dance was occasionally performed in the daytime, but more frequently at night. Late at night, after the conclusion of the performance, any dancer could visit a fellow- member’s lodge and sleep with his wife, but this license did not extend beyond the limits of the brotherhood. According to one Indian authority, the aju-' dancers exercised police functions. Whenever a man had prematurely startled the game in a tribal hunt, the aju-'dancers would take their guns, go out together, and shoot up into the air to indicate their intentions. Then they surrounded the culprit’s lodge, tore it up, and killed his horses and dogs. Whether my informant confounded the aju-'dancers with the Soldiers, whether they shared the tribal functions specified with other organizations, or possibly stood in a peculiar relation to the Soldiers, is by no means clear.

The ickaf1' watcl'bi (translated by my interpreter “dirty-dance”) 1 was dreamt, apparently by an Assiniboine. The master of ceremonies and the singers are men, but the dancers are women. Once a year, late in the spring, the headmen summoned the members to a large lodge, where they were entertained and told that they were to dance. They went home and put on their best clothes, but their costume does not seem to have been of a definitely prescribed character. Sometimes the performance was gone through in behalf of a sick person, and in any case a sacrifice of calico to the Great Spirit is said to have been essential. The dance-lodge was made by uniting two ordinary lodges. The leader had a rattle, and appointed from two to four helpers to drum and sing. The women stood up and merely moved up and down in their places, without changing their position in the circle. W hen through dancing, they filed out of the lodge and ranged them¬ selves in a horizontal row, in the center of which stood the men. They walked a certain distance, performed their ceremony, then proceeded a little further, repeating the dance four times altogether. After the fourth time, they separated. The women participating wore necklaces, and braided their hair like men. The master of ceremonies wore a sleeveless shirt, and painted his arms and legs with white clay. Another informant stated that a woman was master of ceremonies. She would go to the dance-lodge of one of the

1 Said to mean literally “mentula erecta.’

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

73

men’s societies, give them a feast, and in return bid them select so many women to join the dance. The next day the men went around the camp, selecting women, while the leader stayed in her own dance-lodge.

Of the songs, which were often of obscure tenor, only the following brief specimens could be recorded.

“Ha'di-wo,

mi da'nkci

cu'nga kiyux'e

enitce'-no.

Get up, Ha'di-wo.

younger sister,

dog copulating

you look like.

Rise.

To'kia

ama'yanatce,

mi ta'nkci

tca'nde

Whither you cl'jatce. is bad.

are taking me,

my younger sister’s

heart

(This was explained to be a speech to the spirit: My younger sister is grieving, because you are taking me away. )

The Pehan'rin (Brown-Crane ?) society had a large dance-lodge perma¬ nently placed within the camp-circle. There were four officers, two (wintca - bas) bearing war-clubs, and the two others carrying long flat-pipes. Aftei dancing within the lodge, the performers, grouped in the shape of a hoise- shoe, proceeded around the camp, halting four times and going through their performance each time, whereupon they returned to their lodge, and dis¬ banded. The pipes were presented to brave and kind men. Two brief songs were given as follows: —

Wamnu'ckane ogi'nebino

Bugs they are hunting for

Pehan'rina 5'tatca'nge jehan

Brown-cranes’ big chiefs now

The buffalo-dance (tatahga watci'bi) is said to have been derived from the Xea'ktukta tribe. Before starting a dance, one man was appointed to gather up the members’ headdresses. These consisted of the skin of a buffalo-head with the horns and nose left on and a stuffing of grass. Two tents were joined to form the dance-lodge, outside of which all the head¬ dresses were tied to a big pole. A feast was prepared inside, and after the entertainment the dancers put on their costume, namely, flannel clouts decorated with beaded buffalo-hoof designs, and the horned headgear. Four leaders were chosen for distinction in war, such as having been wounded, having killed an enemy while wearing a buffalo headdress, etc. One of these

gawin'ra'bino. in a circle.

yuka'mbino. there are some.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

chiefs had one of the horns painted red, and tied to it an eagle-feather. If one of them had carried a shield in battle, he displayed it now; if anyone had killed an enemy with a spear, he held it in his hand during the ceremony. There were four singers without headdresses, who beat hand-drums while the performers danced in the lodge. After a while, one of the four chiefs rushed out of the lodge and ran off some distance, followed at intervals by the rest of the dancers and by the four singers. The last one to follow was a boy called Buffalo-Boy, who wore a buffalo-calf headdress. They trotted to the first halting-place and performed their dance there. Here a recital of martial deeds took place. As a token of bravery, one of the horns of a headdress might be painted white. Each man carried a muzzle-loader, loaded with powder, and while dancing they shot at one another. At a second site, the same performance was repeated.1

In the whelp2 (cungcindja) dance there are four leaders, chosen for brav- ery, and a crier. A hen these agreed to have a dance, the members were called together. All painted their bodies red. The badge of the society wras a wolf-skin worn around the neck. For decoration, porcupine quill- work was placed around the wolf’s eyes, the paws were wrapped with flannel, and to the jaw was attached a buckskin fringe. Four drummers, with hand-drums, sat in the center, and the performers danced around them.

In the duck-dance (Parun,taje watch bl) there were four leaders, each bearing a flattened stick about three feet long, which was painted yellow and fringed with feathers. The handle was carved into a round knob. A similar mace was borne by the crier. The crier’s duty was to announce to the members that a dance would be held on a certain afternoon or evening. A dance-lodge was erected, the performers dressed up within, then filed out of the lodge, and performed their dance outdoors. In marching out, the leaders preceded the rank and file, and the drummers constituted the rear. They went around the camp-circle, halted four times, returned to their starting-point, and disbanded. New members were selected by the leaders; instead ol exacting initiation payments, the old members presented gifts to the novices.

Besides the above-mentioned dances, one informant was able to recol¬ lect the names of a considerable number of additional ceremonies without being in a condition to give further information concerning them. The names of these dances were Cu'nga-dju'ka (little-dog); te'xoxi" (?); sisa'nin (one-foot dance); karF'yuha' (crow-owner); kaxo ' kona'gitcfa

samin/jia (blackening-dance) ;

(crow-dance); kakmeV (striped-dance); samln';;,

hl]t ’ 1 d0 n°‘ find U definitely stated in my notes that there were four open-air performances but. from analogy this seems exceedingly probable.

2 Of a coyote, wolf, etc.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

to

inwa'gitc (circle-dance) ; cunko-’kola-gitcl'a 1 (big-horse dance) tantco watc (dance without blankets) ; hanSvatc (night-dance). The origin tale of a “Big Dog” society is recounted as part of a logically quite unconnected story (p. 223).

The Age-Societies of the Plains Indians.

The age-societies of the Plains Indians have repeatedly formed the sub¬ ject of theoretical discussion. Sehurtz 2 treats them as representatives of an older genuine age-class system based solely on the affinity of age-mates dis¬ playing their Geselligkeitstrieb , but latterly modified by the influence of chiefs and police bodies and transformed into a type of organization intermediary between that of age-classes and of secret societies. While Sehurtz staits from man’s instinct of sociability and the natural sympathy of coevals. Webster 3 develops social organizations from the tribal initiation ceremonies. At first, the initiated men form a distinct class opposed to woman and the uninitiated of their own sex. With the centralization of executive power, there arise, on the basis of the puberty institutions, secret societies of limited membership charged with political and judicial functions. At a higliei stage, the difficulty of maintaining the secrecy of the societies may lead to their collapse or degeneration into social clubs, such as the North American age-societies. A detailed critique of these opinions is not necessary. I n- derlying both Sehurtz’ s and Webster’s theories is the belief in a law of social evolution, by which phenomena, in remote areas can be psychologically equated and stages preceding an observed social form can be historically reconstructed. In spite of occasional glimpses of the truth that diffusion of ceremonial features has occurred, the standpoint of both writers is essentially unhistorical, and the problems which really develop from a comparative survey of the data escape their attention. The defects of this method have been admirably exposed in Father Schmidt’s review of Webster’s book. Quite different in character from the works mentioned above. Professor Kroeber’s brief paper on The Ceremonial Organization of the Plains Indians of North America 5 is based entirely on empirical data, and will be refene to in connection with the several points dealt with in the following pages.

i The word “kona'” is the only one in which I occasionally thought I heard an J-sound l at Ft, Belknap instead of the customary Yankton-Assiniboine n — This society seems to been distinct from the Horse society already mentioned.

2 See Bibliography.

3 See Bibliography.

4 Anthropos, 1909, p. 537.

• Kroeber (c).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

One of the principal difficulties encountered in a discussion such as that contemplated is the necessity of applying logically rigorous definitions to the highly variable and complex phenomena under investigation and the in¬ adequacy of the designations which have been sanctioned by common usage. The term “age-society” forms a striking illustration of this point. If dependence of membership on age is the criterion of an age-society, the feasting organizations of the Omaha were genuine age-societies. There was indeed no singing or dancing, nor any serious function to perform; but men of mature age, young men, and youths from seventeen to nineteen met separately for a social gathering.1 Yet, with the exception of Schurtz, who regards these organizations as vestigial representatives of some mythological organization of loftier character, ethnological writers have ignored these Omaha associations in their treatment of age-societies. On the other hand, nearly every American ethnographer assumes the essential likeness of the Cheyenne military societies and the Arapaho age-societies, though the former are in no way dependent upon age. Kroeber, indeed, recognizes, and even emphasizes, this fact, but this does not prevent him from treating the Chey¬ enne associations as representatives of the same type of ceremonial organiza¬ tion. The psychological reason for this attitude is quite clear. The current conception of age-societies, based on the data recorded by Maximilian and other travelers and never clearly formulated, involved from the beginning elements which have no relation whatsoever to the qualifications for admis- sion. These additional elements seem so different from the features of the Omaha feasting corporations and seem to be so closely related, both histori¬ cally and otherwise, to features of the Cheyenne military organizations that the former are instinctively relegated to another class, while the latter are put into the same category. But this mode of procedure is decidedly arbitrary. Ihe inconsistency developing therefrom is well illustrated in Professor Kroeber’s paper. Kroeber dichotomizes the organizations of the Plains Indians into religious fraternities based on community of supernatural ex¬ periences and age-societies together with what he considers cognate forms of association. The former are “whatever other features they may possess, primarily associations of shamans, and are at bottom thoroughly different in nature from societies whose membership was dependent upon age, purchase or simple admission, but never upon individual supernatural experiences,’ and ol which several were usually combined into a series through which the individual passed consecutively . It is very probable that in some in¬

stances in the Plains area the two classes of religious societies merged into one another; but their essential difference, and their distinctness, in the

1 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 342.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

77

great majority of cases, must be clearly kept in mind if confusion as to the true character of each is to be avoided.” So far as the first of these state¬ ments is concerned, it would obviously be equally justifiable to separate from all others those societies based on purchase or simple admission. The assumption that the qualifications for membership are a surer index of the essential character of a society, viewed as a whole, than "whatever other features they may possess” must be rejected. Just as it is not permissible to treat ritualistic myths as a distinct class of tales if they merely give a ritualistic setting to incidents constituting ordinary folk-tales, so it must not be assumed that societies based on an age-qualification, or supernatural revelations, are thereby fundamentally different from all others. Indeed, Kroeber himself recognizes this in his comparison of the Cheyenne and Arapalio organizations. If resemblances between these societies justify the assumption of a close relationship, then the “religious” societies of other Plains tribes, so far as they betray features similar to those of age-societies, cannot be barred from the discussion.

The real stumbling-block in our path is the current conviction that our provisional concepts and classifications already exhaust the significance of the phenomena dealt with. The problem, what may be at bottom the nature of such complexes as the sun-dance or the age-societies, is meaningless. Ignorant of the actual history of the several sun-dances, we are unable to determine the original meaning of the ceremony that might otherwise be considered as the first combination of sun-dance elements deserving the name, and we soon find it extremely difficult to determine what is to be considered characteristic of the sun-dance at all. If self-torture and a four days’ fast combined with fixed gazing are considered essential, the Young Dog secret society of the Pawnee 1 is a form of the sun-dance. Similarly, the termination of the tribal hunt of the Omaha, involving the ceremonial selec¬ tion, felling and transportation of a sacred tree,2 shows the occurrence of a highly distinctive sun-dance element in a novel setting. The spectacular torture features are found to be merely the normal forms of hanmdepi, the quest of supernatural power.3 It is obviously of little moment whether we call a certain combination of elements a sun-dance; the essential task is to show the distribution of the several clearly defined elements observable in sun-dances, to examine their combinations in the tribes discussed, and to correlate them, if possible, with other features of tribal culture. Applying this method to the age-societies, we may single out for discussion the age class system, determine its distribution, and investigate what features are

1 Grinnell, (b), p. 27, et seq.

2 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 297.

3 J. O. Dorsey, (b), p. 436-437.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

joined with it. Then we may consider in a strictly parallel way such of these correlated elements as stand out with sufficient clearness to warrant the assumption that each goes back to a single starting-point.

Beginning with the age-system, we may, for our purposes, define an age- society as one of a progressive series of ceremonial organizations, admission into each of which is partly or wholly dependent on age. This definition eliminates, as not homologous, the feasting corporations of the Omaha. It eliminates also the societies of the Cheyenne, Crow and Kiowa. So far as the Cheyenne organizations are concerned, it has already been indicated that age-qualifications are lacking. For the Crow, Maximilian gives a list of dancing associations, but without age specification.1 In 1907, I was unable to find a trace of age-societies, nor do I find any reference to such organizations in Curtis’s recent work. According to the statement of one of my informants — contradicted by another — the Big Dogs were all old, but as the other three Crow organizations were apparently coordinate with them and required no age-qualification, the fact is not significant for the present discussion. According to Curtis,2 Crow boys from twelve to fifteen organized societies in imitation of those of the men. The Rabbit organiza- tion of the Kiowa is of similar character.3 These are undoubtedly spurious age-societies.4 They show in an instructive way how ceremonial perform¬ ances may become associated with a natural age-class, but in both cases the progressive series of societies is lacking. In the Assiniboine societies, the element of age is not of primary significance; so far as it enters at all, it is a function of the requirement that wealthy, and therefore generally older, members were preferred as candidates. Two dances of the Omaha, the Mandan and the Tukala dance, seem at first sight to be genuine age-cere¬ monies, the former being performed solely by mature men, while the Tukala is the corresponding dance of the boys.5 The performance of the boys may, however, be quite naturally explained on the same principle as the Kiowa rabbit-dance. Moreover, we are told that both dances were derived directly from the Ponka, and more remotely from the Dakota. As age-societies have not been noted among the Dakota, it is extremely unlikely that the two

societies of the Omaha are degenerate remnants of a more elaborate ao-e-

. ©

society system.

A hen the imposing array of tribes usually cited as possessing age-societies is carefully sifted, there remain, accordingly, the Mandan, Hidatsa, Arikara,

1 Maximilian, I, p. 401. For some reason, this passage is omitted from the American edition.

2 Curtis, IV, p. 27.

3 Mooney, (a), p. 989; Handbook p. 862.

4 Spurious, of course, only if we adhere to the definition given.

5 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 354.

1909.]

Louie, The Assinibuine.

79

Blackfoot, Arapaho, and Gros Ventre. These — and only these — tribes are definitely known to possess ceremonial groups ranged in a hierarchical series, position in which is somehow dependent on age. That this age factor is not the sole element of importance had already been noted by Schurtz, but it was Professor Kroeber who clearly pointed out the varying significance of this element in different tribes,— especially among the Arapaho and Gros Ventre as opposed to the remaining tribes. Conditions among the latter mav become clear from an account of the Arikara system. From Brackenridge we glean the following data: “They are divided into different bands or classes; that of the pheasant, which is composed of the olded men; that of the bear, the buffalo, the elk, the dog, etc. Each of these has its leader, who generally takes the name of the class, exclusively. Initiation into these classes, on arriving at the proper age, and after having given proofs of being worthy of it, is attended with great ceremony. 1 he band of dogs is considered the most brave and effective in war, being com¬ posed of young men under thirty.” 1 Maximilian lists the Bears (old men); Mad Wolves; Foxes; Mad Dogs; Mad Bulls; and Soldiers.2 Two differ¬ ent lists are furnished by Clark: 3

Young Boys, or Foxes.

Foxes.

Young Dogs.

Thief society.

Big Young Dogs.

Basket society.

Strong Hearts.

Sliaved-Head.

5

Bulls.

Big Dog.

Crows.

Bulls.

Crows.

Black-Mouths.

The Crows were composed of all the old men who had passed through the previous bands. “For police purposes there was a band of soldiers or black-mouths. These were appointed for this special purpose and taken from the above-named bands. They blackened the lower part of their faces as a badge of their authority. These several bands were, it would seem, organized mainly for social pleasure, such as dancing, etc., and the members passed through the grades by pitrcha.se. As a rule, each member had to pass regularly through each band, but if ambitious for sudden promo¬ tion, say from the Big Young Dog to the Strong Heart band, it could be accomplished by purchase and temporarily giving his wife to the embraces of the chief of the band, should the young man have one. The young man was then considered as a son, and could, if he went to war, take one oi the

1 Brackenridge, p. 155.

2 Maximilian, II, p. 240.

3 Clark, pp. 44, 355.

so

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

names of his new father. If not married at the time of adoption, he could not marry into the family of his adopted father.” 1 Conflicting as the several statements are, the fact stands out clearly that men normally ascended from one rung to the next in the ladder of ceremonial preferment, but that the element of purchase was sufficiently strong to enable men to advance beyond their age-mates on offering suitable payment. The individual character of promotion among the three Village tribes is brought out, in another connection, by Maximilian: “If a boy desires to enter the first band in order to become a man, he goes to a member of it, addresses him by the appellation of father, and endeavors to purchase the rank, the dance, the song and the war pipe belonging to it for certain articles.” Essentially the same condition of affairs prevails among the Blackfoot. There are age-classes, but entrance into a given society is purchased individually,2 so that, as Schurtz observes, the upper classes may form an aristocratic social stratum, which the poor reach but slowly, if at all, while others advance to it with relative rapidity.

From this type of age-societies, Professor Kroeber very properly distin¬ guishes the system of the Arapaho and Gros Ventre, which rests on the automatic and collective graduation of age-mates. “The societies of the bayaanwu are strictly not associations of men, but classes or divisions to which men belong at certain ages.” 3 Nevertheless, as Ivroeber points out elsewhere, the element of purchase is not lacking, for the older men directing candidates for a higher society expect a fee from their ceremonial “grand¬ children.” There are other features, not emphasized by Kroeber in his general paper, but recorded in his monographs, which show the influence of factors other than age in both tribes. For the highest Arapaho society, age was indeed the necessary, but not an adequate, condition of membership, which was determined by the possession of one of seven sacred tribal bags. The seven old men, then, while undoubtedly connected with the age-class system, do not form an age-class in the same sense as the lower societies. Among the Gios "\ entre, coevals shared the same ceremony, but performed it in distinct companies preserving their individuality throughout their ceremonial existence and bearing names which resembled the nicknames of camp-circle divisions and were independent of the dances performed.4 The age-classes therefore, differ from those of other tribes in not forming ceremonial units. In short, it might be said that Mandan, Ankara, Hidatsa* Blackfoot, Arapaho, and Gros Ventre all approach, but none attain to, a pure age-system.

1 Ibid., p. 44.

2 Grinnell, (c), p. 222.

3 Kroeber, (a), p. 156.

4 Kroeber, (b), p. 232.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

81

It is perfectly clear that the system of age-societies — quite irrespective of the ceremonial peculiarities of the single age-societies in each tribal series and of their functional aspect — must have developed from a single place ! of origin. This view is confirmed by the fact that, except among the Arikara, there is noted in every tribe at least one women’s society affiliated with the age-class series.1 A system of so marked a character and restricted to so small a number of tribes, all of them in intimate cultural contact with one another, cannot have arisen independently in each instance. The first question that arises is where this system originated. Professor Kroeber’s answer that it probably spread from the Milage group cannot be disproved, but it must be remembered that he includes the Kiowa, Cheyenne and Crow in his discussion, so that his problem is rather different from ours. His reason for conceiving the Village group as the place of origin is that all the other tribes show a closer relationship in their age-societies to the Village people than to other tribes. From our point of view, however, the three tribes mentioned cannot be considered at all. That the Gros Ventre and Arapaho systems are merely differentiations of one archetype is perfectly clear. The Blackfoot show similarities to both the Village and the Arapaho- i Gros Ventre groups, but there seems to be no great preponderance of evi- i dence in favor of closer connection with the former. While the relative importance of the purchase factor allies them with the Mandan and Hidatsa, the existence of but a single women’s society is a feature shared with the Arapaho, while the Blackfoot differ from both groups in apparently lacking the ceremonial surrender of the tyro’s wife. But even if the Blackfoot have been primarily influenced by the Village tribes, the question proposed remains unsolved. It narrows down to whether the system of the Arapaho with its approximation to a rigid age-classification is a logical elaboration of the institution as found among the Villagers, or whether the latter is a degenerate form of the purer age-class system. A prion, both suppositions seem equally probable.

Hitherto, the age-factor has been considered by itself. It seems how¬ ever, extremely probable that, if a certain tribe had developed an age- society system, a neighboring tribe would not borrow solely the abstract idea of classifying ceremonial groups, but would adopt the ceremonial divi¬ sions and activities as well. We must therefore compare the component societies of the several orders. Unfortunately, the practical difficulties ot this task, owing to the scantiness of our information, are well-nigh insuper-

1 In his general paper, Kroeber stated that women’s societies had not been recorded among the Blackfoot; doubtless Wissler’s account (See Bibliography) was not accessible to him at the time of writing. The Arikara, of course, probably had a women’s society which escaped the attention of the observers.

82 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

able. Taking the societies singly, we must again conceive each as a com¬ plex of elements, some of which may have been derived from one source, while others were conceivably diffused from another. To equate societies, therefore, on the basis of their names — often inadequately translated — is a hazardous undertaking. The fifth dance of the Gros Ventre, for example, is called nanannahaDwu, a term generally translated “soldiers’ lodge.” 1 It is extremely doubtful whether this body was at all related to the Soldier organization of the Village tribes. Functionally, it wTas probably not related, for we are not told that police duties, such as those assigned to the Soldiers of the Mandan, devolved on its members. Similarly, it would be rash to consider the Piegan Soldier band homologous with its Mandan namesake. Among the Piegan, the Braves were the police force par excellence, and the Soldier organization, though obsolete for many years, must have been a distinct body, for its chief occupied a separate lodge in the inner camp- circle.2 3 We do feel safe in identifying the Gros Ventre nanannahanwu and the Arapaho hinanahanwuS, because we know the linguistic and cultural relationship of these tribes and recognize in these native terms merely dialectic variations; because we find a great similarity in the general structure of their age-class system, and because the societies in question occupy the same posi¬ tion in their respective orders. As corroborative evidence, we discover that both societies are connected with the buffalo. We are thus justified in assuming that the organizations had a common origin and that whatever differences occur are due to later differentiation, or to the disappearance of earlier features. The purely ceremonial coincidences would not have been convincing, but with our knowledge of extraneous data we can conceive the historical evolution of the two societies from a single prototype. Our knowledge of tribal relationships again aids us in accounting for one of the principal differences between the Arapaho and the Gros Ventre systems: the presence of a fly-dance among the Gros Ventre. This ceremony, said to have been instituted by a mosquito, forms the lowest of the Gros Ventre divisions. Quill-wrapped hoops carried on sticks constituted the sole regalia of the participants. I he members imitated mosquitoes, pursuing people to prick them with cactus-spines and sharp claws. Now, Maxi¬ milian 4 notes a Mosquito society forming the lowest of the Blaekfoot organi¬ zations. The members imitated mosquitoes, biting, pinching or otherwise maltreating their fellow-tribesmen, and wore eagle-claw wristlets for badges. In view of the contiguity of the Gros Ventre and Blaekfoot and of culture-

1 Kroeber, (b), p. 258.

2 Grinnell, (c), pp. 221, 225.

3 Kroeber, (b), p. 258; (a), p. 206.

4 Maximilian I, p. 577.

Louie, The Assiniboine.

83

I 1909.]

transferences which have certainly taken place between them, we may reasonably infer that the Gros Ventre adopted their fly-dance from the

! Blackfoot. "

It is very rarely that we find such clear testimony to the community of origin of similarly named societies. On the other hand, it is very likely that some societies bearing different names were fundamentally related. I his may account, to some extent, for the number of reported organizations i peculiar to single tribes. Collating on the basis of names the societies in | question as far as they occur in more than one tribe, we obtain the following result:

Mandan

Hidatsa Arikaba

PlKGAN

Arapaho

Gros Ventre

Kit-foxes

Foxes

Kit-foxes

Kit-foxes

Kit-foxes

Mosquitoes

Flies

Ravens

Ravens

Crows

Ravens

Half-Shorn

Heads

Half-Shorn

Heads

Foolish

Dogs

Crazy Dogs

Mad Dogs

Crazy Dogs

Crazy Lodge

Crazy Lodge

Dogs (?)

Small Dogs

Young Dogs

Old Dogs

Dogs

Big

Young Dogs (?)

Dogs

Dogs

Dogs

Soldiers

Enemies

Soldiers

Braves (?) Soldiers (?)

Buffaloes

Bulls

Mad Bulls

Bulls

Making due allowance for the imperfections of such a table, we are never¬ theless obliged to attach considerable significance to the parallels encoun¬ tered. This significance is enhanced by the fact — emphasized by 1 rofessor Kroeber — that while the relative position of the single societies is far from uniform, similarly named societies nevertheless frequently have about the same place in their respective orders. In order to bring home the transfor- mations which have taken place, it is well to emphasize, by some concrete examples, the fact that this rule only approximately fits the facts. The Kit-

84

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

fox society is the first preliminary organization of the Arapaho, but ranks third in the Gros Ventre series; the biitahanwu forms the second lodge of the Arapaho and probably the sixth of the Gros Ventre.1 In Maximilian’s Blackfoot list, the Dogs are the young unmarried men, while Grinnell describes them as old men.2 But in spite of these differences even between the most closely related tribes, it seems on the whole most plausible to assume that the age-class system was adopted by the borrowing tribes as a whole and that the single societies were modified partly by the pre-existing cere¬ monial conceptions of the borrowers, and partly by unique historical con¬ ditions.3

This conclusion seems to justify the separation of age-societies from other forms of organization. But the question arises whether age-societies form a distinct class irrespective of their being graded, that is, whether age-societies conform to a fairly definite ceremonial type differing from that of ungraded societies.

Turning to this phase of the problem, we find among the Arapaho only, four societies that may be properly grouped together. “The four cere¬ monies from the first to the fourth dance .... constitute a well-defined group with constant analogies. In all of them the main body of participants are called nat^an1, which is about equivalent to Tank and file.’ Above these are the honorary degrees, which range in number from one in the third to five in the second dance. The number of dancers is fixed for each degree, but varies, according to the degree and the ceremony, from one to four. The participants in each dance are instructed either singly or in groups, and receive their regalia from older men who have gone through the ceremony and are called the dancers’ grandfathers. These men again, and the entire ceremony as a whole, are under the direction of the seven old men constitut¬ ing the sixth society.” 4 The Kit-fox and Star societies really stand outside the series, because they lack prescribed regalia, degrees and ceremonial grandfathers. The fifth and sixth dances are likewise lacking in regalia and degrees; and while the members of the fifth perform a dance, this element is not found at all in the highest lodge. It is therefore not possible to speak of the functions and ceremonial characteristics of the Arapaho age-societies as if these were uniform: the four societies just mentioned are specially related to the four remaining societies solely through the fact that all are ranged in a progressive series and that all bear the impress of certain

1 Kroeber, (b), p. 230.

2 Maximilian, I, p. 577. Grinnell, (c), p. 221.

3 I am here thinking of such transformations — passing to tribes without age-societies — as resulted from the sudden wholesale entrance of a Cheyenne camp-circle section into a single warrior organization (Mooney, (c), pp. 406-407).

4 Kroeber, (a), p. 155.

1909.]

Loivie, The Assiniboine.

85

specifically tribal ceremonial notions. Thus, we find each dance referring symbolically to some animal, and each is a votive performance contingent on the pledger’s — or a relative’s — recovery from sickness. As soon as we pass to another tribe, we find different conceptions, and it then becomes difficult to specify any characteristics common to age-societies and not shared by other forms of organization.

So long as our attention is confined to the Arapaho, this difficulty is not brought home to us, because it is one peculiarity of Arapaho ceremonial life, that all ceremonial organizations are related to the age-class system. But we need merely consider the Gros Ventre, the nearest relatives of the Arapaho, to find a society — that of the Stars — which is not connected with the order of age-societies. Among the Blackfoot, the age-companies constituting the “All Comrades” were indeed the most important ceremonial bodies, but there were several societies, both ancient and modern, standing outside of their order.1 The point comes out most clearly on examining Maximilian’s data with respect to the Village tribes. Taking the Arikara for illustration, we find an age-series composed of the Bear, Mad Wolf, Fox, Mad Dog, Mad Bull and Soldier organizations. But outside of this series stand the societies practising the hot-dance, bird’s-egg, youngest-child, prairie-fox, white-earth, spirit, and extended-robe dances. Each of these societies appears to have had its own regalia, and it is by no means clear in what respect they differed from the graded societies. From Maximilian’s state¬ ment it appears that even the remarkable surrender of the novice’s wife to his “father” or “grandfather” is not peculiar to the age-societies, for he draws no distinction in this respect between the two classes of Arikara societies, and he clearly mentions this feature in connection with the Crow, among whom neither he nor any subsequent observer has recorded age- societies.2 We may go further. Not only have tribes with the age-series also ceremoniallv similar organizations outside the series, but tribes like the Crow, Cheyenne and Kiowa — where age-societies do not occur — have organizations which in some features parallel the age-societies so closely that, as already noted, most ethnologists tacitly assume their community of origin.

Passing to the “religious” societies of the Omaha, we again find it difficult to conceive them as ceremonially distinct from the age-organiza¬ tions. In the Buffalo society, there was a clear differentiation of rank. Four men were skilled surgeons, four only — it is not clear whether these are the surgeons — put the skm of a buffalo head over their heads, the horns standing up and the hair of the buffalo-head hanging down below the

1 Wissler, (b), p. 174.

2 Maximilian, I, pp. 401, 409; II, pp. 143, 242.

86 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. I\ ,

chests of the wearers. Some wore only leggings and breechclouts, others also robes with the hair outside; some wore buffalo tails fastened in their belts, and some performers used red-willow sticks for dancing-staffs. In their dancing, the performers imitated the movements of buffalo. The horse-dancer wore a necklace of horse-hair, and in his belt a horses tail, in his actions, he imitated horses. The wolf-dancers wore wolf skins, painted their bodies in imitation of “blue wolves,” and danced like wolves. In the Grizzly society, the members imitated grizzly bears; one man wore a grizzly skin, and several had bear-claw necklaces. It is interesting to note a curious relation between the Buffalo society on the one hand and the Horse and Wolf societies on the other. After the recovery of a patient, the buffalo- dancers might invite the members of the Horse society, but not those of the Wolf society. On other occasions, either of these bodies might be requested to join in the dance. But neither the horse-dancers nor the wolf-dancers could ever perform except in conjunction with the buffalo-dancers. While it is not possible fully to understand this relationship, it certainly seems to exemplify the gradation of societies — on as yet unknown principles.1 The Elk mystery of the Ogalalla Sioux 2 was essentially similar to the Omaha ceremonies just mentioned, hi asks resembling elk heads with the horns were worn, and the party of performers imitated elk. The preponderance of animal names for the “religious” societies, the concomitant adoption of some corresponding badge, and the imitation of the animal from which each society derives its name ally these organizations with the age-societies. The supernatural element which seems to separate the “religious” from other forms of organization is in reality present in most of the age-societies: the ceremony is generally conceived to have originated in a supernatural revelation to a single person, who is empowered to initiate other individuals.

The coexistence with age-societies of ostensibly different forms of organi¬ zation did not escape Schurtz’s attention, but all features other than the age factor seem to him later intrusions tending to break down a primeval classi¬ fication on the sole basis of age. “Uberhaupt treten an die Stelle der Alters- verbande Yereinigungen anderer Art, die meist auf mystischer Grundlage ruhen, eigene Brauche und Tanze haben, und also schon tjbergangsformen zu den Geheimbiinden bilden; die Mitglieder werden weniger daraufhin aufgenommen, dass sie ein bestimmtes Lebensalter erreicht haben, als durch' Wahl und gegen entsprechende Bezahlung, ahnlich wie das in den melanesischen Klubs zu gesehehen pflegt.” 3 If, however, the psychological basis of these organizations be different, it is not readily intelligible why they

1 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 347-349.

2 Miss Fletcher, (a).

3 Schurtz, pp. 151-152.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

87

could not have coexisted with age-societies from the earliest times, or even have antedated them. Both the mystic experiences and the conception of a transferable ritual are such fundamental features of Plains culture that their relatively recent development cannot be seriously maintained. But I do not believe that any such fundamental psychological difference exists. It is now generally admitted that rites cannot be compared on the basis of their ostensible significance, because that significance is frequently a secondarily acquired feature. When we find a buffalo ceremony celebrated among both Mandan and Pawnee for the purpose of calling buffalo, we do not ipso facto assume a historical connection between the ceremonial proceedings. On the other hand, ceremonies formally identical are regarded as historically related, no matter how their origin myths, or their alleged results, may differ. Similarly, it seems to me artificial to group societies by the ostensible basis of admission, for the essential traits of the ceremonies may considerably antedate the qualifications now considered indispensable. That this fact is recognized — though inconsistently applied by ethnologists, has already been shown, lhe Cheyenne, Kiowa and Cron organizations are classed with the age-societies, while the “religious” societies and feasting corporations of the Omaha are excluded. I do not mean to assert a direct historical connection between the 1 1 religious and age-societies in the sense that the latter developed from the former, or vice versa. Both rather seem to me to have their source in certain basic features of Plains culture. But I also fail to find convincing proof of a direct historical connection between most of the Cheyenne and Arapaho societies that are usually connected. For example, we might compare the Hoof-Rattle society of the Cheyenne with the biitahanwu of the Arapaho. In both organizations, two men carry feathered and fur-wrapped lance-crooks, while the rank and file have straight lances. That the crooked lances used by various societies on the Plains had a common origin is extremely probable, and that the Cheyenne borrowed it from the Arapaho, or vice versa, is quite possible. But there the similarity of the societies ends. Even if we disregard specifically tribal elements which any borrowed society might be supposed to assimilate, the character¬ istic features are wholly different. The Hoof-Rattle warriors carry dew- claw rattles, and have for their emblem a grooved elk horn instrument in the form of a snake. One of their functions is the charming of large game. All these features are lacking in the biitahanwu which, on its part, contains a host of elements not paralleled in the Cheyenne association. But on the basis of single traits, an indefinite number of societies, both “religious” and otherwise, would have to be grouped with the age-societies.

On the other hand, the Dog society of the Cheyenne presents indubitable indications of a close connection with the Arapaho Dog lodge. In both

88

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

organizations, four men wear trailing scarfs and are obliged to disregard danger in -war. Both also share hoof-rattles, feather headdresses, and eagle-bone whistles. In addition, the identity of name, rarely presumptive, but always good corroborative, evidence, speaks in favor of a common origin. If this theory is adopted, the question arises whether the society defined by the traits enumerated originally formed one of a consecutive series of age- societies, or whether it existed independently of such a series and was second¬ arily graded. There is very little direct evidence of an ungraded society becoming incorporated into an age-order. Mooney states that the biita- hanwu of the Arapaho was originally derived from the Cheyenne,1 in which case it would be an illustration of this process. But I fail to find any Chey¬ enne society from which it could be derived in a satisfactory way. Maxi¬ milian states that the hot-dance, performed by the youngest band of the Hidatsa and Mandan was obtained by purchase from the Hot Dance society of the Arikara, which is not connected with the age-societies.2 This is very meagre evidence, though, so far as I know, there is none whatso¬ ever for the degeneration of an age-company into an ungraded society, — which of course, does not disprove the assumption that such a transformation has taken place. It is entirely possible that within recent times the cere¬ monies of age-societies may have repeatedly become the property of ungraded societies, while precisely the reverse process was taking place in the case of other organizations. From a more general point of view, however, the re¬ markable efflorescence of ceremonial life all over the Plains as compared with the very narrowly circumscribed area of distribution of the age-societies

renders it almost inconceivable that the various ceremonial bodies coexisting

©

with age-orders in the same tribe, or found in tribes without the age-series,

should all be merely degenerate forms of age-societies.

How then do societies become graded by age, if we eliminate the theory of a deliberate scheme of classification? Adopting Schurtz’s principle without applying it indiscriminately, we might assume that certain societies start as age-classes : that it was simply customary for young men, middle- aged men and old men to associate in distinct groups, whether in everyday life or for ceremonial purposes. The arrangement of societies in a pro¬ gressive series would then require no further explanation. As a matter of fact, the tendency mentioned may be amply illustrated. The Omaha feasting societies, with their division into men, young men and boys, have already been referred to. A similar division of the Cheyenne into coeval messmates is hinted at in several versions of a Cheyenne myth.3 It must be

1 Mooney, (a), p. 9S8.

2 Maximilian, II, pp. 144, 217-219. Among the Cheyenne, the dance is the property of a medicine, not of a warrior, society. Mooney, (c), p. 415.

3 Grinnell, (d), 180, 184, 188.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

89

recollected, however, that some kind of age-class may develop in various ways. In the Assiniboine societies, insistence on a property qualification would tend, as repeatedly stated by my informants, to unite only men of mature age. The exclusive selection of chiefs on the ground of repeated services of distinction eliminates younger men from the Omaha Poogethun society.1 The distinct character of the highest Arapaho organization, in spite of its intimate connection with the ceremonial order, has already been mentioned. So, the lowest of the Kiowa societies becomes an age-class through the fact that boys imitate the warrior organizations of adults, — - a process which has also contributed to the complication of the Blackfoot system. Among the Pawnee, where age-societies have not been recorded, the Sam are said to have been all young men.2 That a war-party frequently united young men in quest of martial glory into an age-group, is obvious. The tendency of age-mates to associate together is thus a real phenomenon, though it may manifest itself in various ways, and though the age-group need not include all coevals.

If the age-societies of the Village -tribes, Blackfoot, Arapaho and Gros Ventre corresponded to the classes of the coeval messmates among the Omaha or Cheyenne, their explanation would be extremely simple. We should say that an everyday classification had simply been applied to cere¬ monial life. As a matter of fact, the data are far too involved to admit of this explanation. It is true that the great number of age-societies in some of the tribes may be materially reduced. Of the Arapaho and Gros Ventre societies, only four have been found to constitute a well-defined group. Grinnell’s Piegan list shrinks considerably, when the Little Bird, Mosquito and Dove organizations are recognized as recent imitations of the All Com¬ rades by boys and young men. Deducting from Maximilian’s list the two societies of minors and the old men’s organization — all three absolved from police duties — we have left four age-societies with police functions.3 But when the remaining societies are examined, we find that they do not correspond to any age-divisions that might naturally develop among people who did not know their age by years. Among the Piegan, only a slight difference of age can be assumed between Hie “tried warriors ”of the Brave society and the All Crazy Dogs “about forty years old.” Similarly, there is no fundamental difference of age, and none whatsoever with respect to marriage, between the Arapaho Crazy and Dog organizations. The age of the crazy-dancers is set by Kroeber at forty, by Mooney at more than

1 Fletcher, (b), p. 137.

2 G. A. Dorsey, (a), pp. 57-59, 339.

s There are four warrior societies among the Crow and Cheyenne and four coordinate organ¬ izations among the Kiowa.

90 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\ ol. IV,

fifty, that of the dog-dancers is estimated by Kroeber at fifty. Both societies were obviously composed of middle-aged married men. What then forms the basis of gradation ? I must confess that, on the principle of age-grouping pure and simple, the matter is unintelligible to me. The very societies in the age-series which seem to form the core of the system and present the most characteristic traits do not constitute fundamental age-groups. This leads us to suspect that some other principle of gradation may have been more potent in the development of the series of societies, the age factor pos¬ sibly being of relatively subordinate significance. My meaning may be rendered clear by a concrete illustration. It might be supposed that the Arapaho had originally four warrior organizations like the Crow and Chey¬ enne. The martial distinction attained by the several societies respectively may have led to a differentiation of rank. If boys imitating their elders formed a genuine, that is, all-inclusive age-class, and if, owing to the spirit of social emulation, it became a rule for the boys to pass collectively from one of the graded societies to the other, up to the highest, then these societies would be naturally transformed into the kind of age-societies found. The fundamental age-divisions of Schurtz, however, would be represented only at a later stage of the system by the youthful imitators, the total adult popula¬ tion in the four graded societies, and the aged overseers of ceremonial life. Such a course of development seems to me intelligible, but I do not profess that the hypothesis represents the actual historical evolution of the Arapaho, or any other, order. The unique character of historical happenings — such a fact as the intrusion of the Blackfoot Flv society into the Gros Ventre system, which is of course dependent on specific conditions not paralleled in other tribes — must deter us from framing any generalized evolutionary scheme. One fact, however, is perfectly clear: the age-grouping postulated by Schurtz, while admirably exemplified by the Omaha feasting associa¬ tions, is radically different from the scheme of the most characteristic of the age-societies.

If the principle of classification by age is dropped, the age-societies might be grouped together with the Crow, Cheyenne and Kiowa societies as military organizations. Their military character manifests itself in the im¬ position of certain obligations on the members when in battle and in the martial insignia borne by the dancers. On the latter point, Kroeber justly remarks that war was but a part of the Plains Indian’s normal life, so that nothing is more natural than to find implements of war and references to fighting in the ceremonials of this area. Furthermore, it is essential to remember that by no means all the age-societies present this military aspect. Irrespective of the two highest Arapaho organizations, so important a body as the Crazy Dance society of the same tribe is emphatically not an associa-

! 1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

91

; lion of warriors, but a ceremonial and religious body, exclusively.1 Further,

! the obligations referred to generally devolve not on the members of the 1 societies collectively, but on a few participants of higher degree, and these : identical obligations are incident to membership in organizations not usually | connected by ethnologists with military societies at all.

Among the Arapaho, it is the leader with his four associates in the dog- | dance, as well as the holder of the second degree in the biitahanwu, that are pledged never to flee from an enemy. In the dog-dance this feature is as- I sociated with the wearing of a trailing scarf, which is fastened to the ground in battle to prevent the possibility of flight; while the biitahanwu warrior plants his lance-crook in the ground and must not desert this standard, unless it be plucked out and presented to the owner by a fellow-tribesman. Parallel regulations applied to the scarf- wearers of the Gros Ventre Dog society. Among the Mandan, the old men who had once been united with the young men in the lowest (Foolish Dog) society were not permitted to retreat; the bearers of two fur-wrapped spears played the part of the biita- hanwu warrior; and in the Buffalo society two leaders wearing a buffalo mask assumed parallel risks. Leaving the age-societies, we find among the Blackfoot a Brave Dog couple — not to be confounded with the Braves or Dogs of the All Comrades, with which order there was no connection what¬ soever — “characterized by the fact that these individuals were never per¬ mitted to turn back from a danger of any sort.”2 Obviously related to this sodality is the Crazy Dog brace of the Crow, who, according to information gathered by the writer, deliberately courted danger, wore trailing sashes, expressed the reverse of their intended meaning, and in some ways imitated dogs.3 The Inverted Warriors of the Cheyenne either repel a hostile charge or die on the spot; the four scarf -wearers of the Dog society must expose themselves to danger in defence of their mates.4 Of the ten Kiowa Dog warriors, no one was expected to flee, and the leader anchored himself to the ground by means of a sash fastened with an arrow; the Blackleg warriors substituted a lance-crook for the arrow.5 From what little we know of the Skidi Saru association, membership seems to have involved the obligation to speak backwards and to defy danger in battle. The Assiniboine nampec dancers bore fur-wrapped spears akin in function to the biitahanwu warrior s spear. The Dakota No-Flight society was a similar association; it united young men who had not yet distinguished themselves on the battle field

1 Mooney, (a) p. 988.

2 Wissler, (b), p. 174.

a Cf. Curtis, IV, pp. 13-14.

• G. A. Dorsey, (b), pp. 21, 25.

® Mooney, (b), p. 284.

92 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Aatural History. [Vol. IV,

under the leadership of a war captain.1 In 1804 Lewis and Clark dis¬ covered a Sioux society, of which the mejmbers had vowed never to retreat from danger. In crossing the ice-covered Missouri, the foremost member of the association once deliberately walked into a hole and perished, while his followers had to be dragged out of the path of danger. In a battle with the Crow, eighteen of the twenty-two members were killed, the survivors being dragged back to safety by their fellow-tribesmen. “This society is in imitation of the societies of the de Curbo or Crow Indians.” 2 The last statement is at first not quite clear, as the Crazy Dog couple of the Crow is apparently an old institution, from which so large an association as that of the Sioux could hardly have been derived by direct imitation. But it is highly probable that the notion of votive bravery was, in several of the Plains tribes, not monopolized by a single society, but that several organizations strove to outdo one another in defiance of danger. Several such instances have already been cited above. Among the Crow, the Big Dogs and the Foxes attempted to get ahead of each other in striking the first blow at any enemy. Though there is no evidence that this implied the deliberate fool¬ hardiness of the Crazy Dogs, such may well have been the case, so that Lewis and Clark’s Sioux society may have been patterned after either of these rival Crow organizations. Several rival warrior organizations have been noted by Curtis among the Teton. The Brave Hearts of the Ogallala had four lance-bearers who incurred the usual risks connected with their regalia.3 Several bravery dances were performed by the Omaha, though, for some obscure reason, they are generally not classed with “military societies.” The T’e'gaxe dancers always went prepared to fall in battle; two men bore a feathered staff. The No-Flight society corresponded to its Dakota namesake. “The members vowed not to flee from a foe. They blackened themselves all over with charcoal. About fifty years ago two members went into a fight armed only with deer’s claw rattles that had sharp iron points at either ends of the handles. They rushed among the foe and stabbed them before they could draw their bows.” 4 In another ceremony, characterized by the use of buffalo headdresses, only very brave men were allowed to participate.5 The feature of obligatory, or votive, bravery is thus of very wide distribution; it is connected with some age-societies, some “military societies,” and other organizations not usually included in either category. Even in the Crow sun-dance, certain individuals brought in by

1 Riggs, p. 225.

2 Lewis and Clark, I, p. 130.

3 Curtis, III, pp. 15-16.

4 The Flathead were led by one or two unarmed men who dauntlessly walked straight into the enemy’s camp with their rattles and medicines (Clark, p. 356).

5 J. O. Dorsey, (a), p. 352.

1909.]

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l

the police to sit on the lodge-poles are thereafter obliged never to flee from an enemy. Obligatory bravery is thus not characteristic of any one type of ceremonial organization, but appears in various combinations of ceremonial traits.

Before leaving the military features of Plains societies, I should like to direct attention to the similarity between the formation of a war-party and the organization of a military society. Among the Omaha, a small war-party was organized as follows. The young man who conceived the plan of the expedition notified his friend. If the friend consented, two messengers were dispatched to invite others to participate. When all had assembled in the lodge of the hosts, the proposer of the expedition announced his plan and the guests declared their intentions. After four chants and dances, a feast was served, after which prayers were addressed to the Thunder deity presiding over war. This feast took place on four successive days, after which foot¬ gear and provisions were prepared. In the dead of night the warriors slipped away from camp. They blackened their faces and wore buffalo robes plastered with white clay. The messengers wore plumes in their hair and girded themselves with women’s pack-straps. All fasted for four days, then they stopped fasting and washed their faces. Before leaving the village, the captains selected two brave young men for lieutenants.1 2 The small war- party was thus characterized by a number of traits suggestive of military societies. The prayers to the Thunder deity represent the religious element, the whitened robes the badge of the association, while the originator of the plan and his comrade were naturally differentiated in degree from the other warriors. To these features of course, must be added the feasting, singing, and dancing in the captain’s lodge, and the distinctive decoration of the messengers as compared with the rank and file. The large war-party was naturally of a more complex character. To the two principal leaders two minor captains were added, four messengers invited the tribesmen to join the party, and a police force commanded by two special officers assisted the captains. Before retiring for the night, the warriors would perform the

coyote-dance, imitating the actions of a coyote; during this performance each man carried a gourd rattle and a bow, 'and wore his quiver in his belt.'

These war-parties of the Omaha thus present a considerable number of features found in military societies, and show them associated in the most natural way.

The point becomes clearer on comparing with the foregoing description Keating’s little-noticed account of the Dakota No-Flight society:

1 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 315-318.

2 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 318-323.

94

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

There exists in some of the bands of the Dacotas, and probably also among some of the other Missouri Indians, an association called the Nanpashe'n'e, those who never fly or retreat. A society of this kind originates in an union of two friends, who, when a warlike expedition is projected, propose to form an association. They send for a third warrior, and these three appoint the whole number, which seldom exceeds thirty or forty. When they are all collected, the two founders state to them that the object of the meeting is to form a company of “the Dauntless,” and they advise them to prepare their dresses, which generally require about a fortnight. In the meanwhile, the two founders prepare the lodge of the association, which none but its members are suffered to enter.

When all the members are collected together, they commence their songs and dances, and their fasts which last three days, during which time they reside in the lodge, but occasionally sally out to sing and dance in the camp. This fast is of the most strict nature, as they dare take neither food nor drink during the three days. One of the most striking features of the association is, that it is limited in its duration, and that its activity is suspended by the death of any one of its members. The duty which it enjoins is not destruction to its enemies, but the rushing into danger with songs and dances. It matters not whether they inflict any injury upon the enemy at the time. Indeed, as long as the association is in activity, they cannot go out unarmed. A society of this kind sometimes continues actively employed for a whole year, during which time its members cannot provide themselves with food or drink, but they must wait until it is offered to them by their friends. When a person once enters into the Nanpashene, he is bound to it for life; for although its duration is limited, yet it may be renewed at the call of any of its members, in which case all are bound to join in; but during the term of its suspension, each may act for himself as he pleases. It is not always that an Indian is willing to enter into this society, for though it is held in high honor, yet it requires a more than usual courage to expose one’s self passively to the greatest dangers, under a strict obliga¬ tion, which none dare violate, never to retreat from it. In the commencement of the association, the two founders having selected a third, and this one nominated a fourth member, these meet in the lodge appropriated to their purpose, and as soon as they have entered it, and smoked the pipe of war, they cannot retract. These four assume the appropriate dress, and issue out of the lodge singing and dancing; they select such of the warriors, as they think will be good members of the band, and convey them, whether willing or not, to their lodge. If the warrior enters it, even but for a moment, he is bound to the association and cannot withdraw; but if he succeed in effecting his escape before he enters the lodge, he is free. Vacancies in their body are never filled; the association continues until it is annihilated by the death of all its members, when a new one may be formed. They have occasional meetings for feasts and sacrifices. Their fasts are both frequent and rigid. It is difficult to determine, with precision, what the object of the institution is, but it seems to be to convince the enemy, that there are, in their band, a number of men so heedless of danger, that they will rush into it, under a solemn pledge never to retreat, and also without the usual motive of selling their lives at a high price, by the number of the enemy whom they will have previously destroyed. It must be admitted that the passive courage, which this association requires of its members, presents perhaps the highest degree, which man has ever manifested; for they are not even animated by a religious or a superstitious feeling; they do not believe that this self-devotion will ensure success to their party. They, it is true, enter-

I 1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

95

tain the opinion that it is more difficult to kill them than other warriors; yet this does not detract in the least from their merit, as they know they must, sooner or later, fall victims to the dangers to which they expose themselves. The great di-

I vinity to which this association looks up for support, is the thunder, to which frequent sacrifices are offered, especially by the two founders who are its leaders. The sacrifices are made at the door of the lodge, and consist of pieces of meat stuck upon a wooden fork, and inclined to the west. The members of this association have a costly and splendid dress, made of antelope’s skin; they wear feathers upon their heads. Every band of the Sioux has not an association of this kind; some have two or three societies, one of which has alone the title of the brave: the others being called the soldiers, the buffalo, etc. The object of these appears to be : different, as they are not bound to that passive exposure to danger, which char¬ acterizes the Nanpashene.1

In both the ordinary war-parties of the Omaha and in the Dakota society we find an association of men banded together under the leadership of two I friends assisted by two subordinate officers; secret meetings take place in a j lodge; there are prayers to the Thunder; and a several days’ fast precedes the military operations. A “military” society might thus be conceived as a | permanent association of men once joined in war and preserving the cere- i monials and differentiations of rank observed during the expedition. At all events, in both instances a very natural reason is shown for the development of higher degrees.

One of the most peculiar features of the age-societies — and doubtless i one which seems to have spread from but a single starting-point within the : area under consideration — is the clownish behavior characteristic of certain i organizations. This clownishness generally assumes the form of “doing things by contraries.” It can readily be shown that this feature occurs in the most divergent combinations, both in age-societies and other types of organization. Among the Crow, it is coupled with the Spartan bravery of the two Crazy Dogs, yet it is lacking in the obviously related Brave Dog union of the Blackfoot. The Assiniboine Fools, besides affecting oddity of dress and inverted speech, perform characteristic ceremonies around a bull and afterwards with its meat, — ceremonies unparalleled, so far as I know, in other tribes. The Inverted Warriors of the Cheyenne unite dauntlessness with backward speech,2 as did the Pawnee Saru organization. In the Heyoka society of the Dakota — apparently a “religious” organization — the strangely clad and painted dancers, who claim relationship with the Thunder deities, plunge their hands into boiling water and scald their backs and legs, complaining that the water is cold. Their supernatural exemplars act in every way contrary to nature. “In the winter they stand on the open

1 Keating, I, pp, 418-421.

2 G. A. Dorsey, (b), pp. 24-26.

96 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

prairie without clothing; in the summer they sit on knolls wrapped in buffalo robes, and yet they are freezing.”, 1 The crazy-dancers of the Ara¬ paho and Gros Ventre 2 seem to be the only representatives of age-societies to indulge in corresponding forms of extravagance. With the exception of the Arapaho and Gros Ventre societies, none of the organizations character¬ ized by clownishness seem to be otherwise genetically related.

There remains to be considered the possibility that the age-societies are to be conceived as police organizations. Among the Piegan, the All Com¬ rades order, as a whole, seems to have acted as a disciplinary force, but police functions principally devolved on the Braves. “They were the constables of the camp, and it was their duty to preserve order, and to punish offenders. Sometimes young men would skylark in camp at night, making a great noise when people wanted to sleep, and would play rough practical

jokes, that were not at all relished by those who suffered from them .

The Braves would punish the young men who did such things, — if they could catch them, — tearing up their blankets, taking away their property, and sometimes whipping them severely.” 3 Among the Arapaho, the biitahanwu dancers (Bitahi'nena) constituted the constabulary. “They performed police duty in camp, when traveling, and on the hunt, and were expected to see that the orders of the chief were obeyed by the tribe. For instance, if any person violated the tribal code or failed to attend a general dance or council, a party of Bitahi'nena was sent to kill his dogs, destroy his tipi, or in extreme cases to shoot his ponies. On hunting expeditions it was their business to keep the party together and see that no one killed a buffalo until the proper ceremonies had been performed and the order was given by the chief. They were regarded as the representatives of the law and were never resisted in performing their duty or inflicting punishments.” 4 Among the Village tribes, it is doubtful, whether the police body coincided with one of the ceremonial age-groups. The Black-Mouths mentioned in one of Clark’s two varying accounts as an Arikara age-society,5 appear, from his fuller statement, to have been recruited from several of the age- societies. The Hidatsa Soldiers naturally embraced “the bravest and most influential men of the tribe;” from Matthews’ statements they obviously constituted the tribal police, but neither he, nor Maximilian, identifies them with a definite age-class.6 1 he Mandan Soldiers had their specific ceremony, but all the higher classes could at the same time belong to the band of the

1 J. 0. Dorsey, (b), pp. 468-471. Cf. Eastman, pp. 242, 256-258.

2 Kroeber, (a), p. 192; (b), p. 245. Mooney, (a), p. 1033.

3 Grinnell, (c), pp. 222-223.

4 Mooney, (a), p. 988.

6 Clark, pp. 44, 355.

6 Matthews, p. 131.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

97

Soldiers, who acted as police-officers.1 I interpret Maximilian’s by no means clear account to mean that the higher classes participated in the police functions of a lower class without sharing their ceremonial performances, the constabulary being collectively called “Soldiers.” If this be a correct assumption, the Soldiers, like the corresponding Arikara and Hidatsa bodies, would form a natural age-group of mature men, but not an age-society in the definite sense attached to the term throughout this discussion.

If the police functions of age-societies are primarily connected with the buffalo hunt and camp life, we may expect to find corresponding powers wielded where these fundamental traits of Plains life exist without age- societies. Of ungraded societies with military traits, the Kiowa Dogs,2 and possibly all the four Crow warrior organizations, had police duties. The Omaha, when preparing for a buffalo hunt, selected policemen from the ranks of the brave. Their principal function was to prevent the premature stampeding of the herd, and in discharging this duty they had practically unlimited disciplinary powers; in ordinary times, they acted as messengers for the chiefs. Policemen varying in number, were also appointed to dis¬ cipline war-parties and festal throngs.3 The Soldiers of the Dakota tiyo- tipi were primarily game-wardens with the characteristic “soldier-killing” powers of cutting up an offender’s tent and destroying his property.4 The Assiniboine agi'tcita probably formed a strictly homologous body. Schurtz emphasizes the fact that minors and old men were excluded from this organi¬ zation. But this merely shows that the Soldiers formed a natural age-class of mature men, not an age-class comparable to those of the Arapaho; and in this sense there can be little doubt that the Dakota and Omaha policemen, as well as the twenty-four warriors “not so old as to be unfitted for active work, yet with the fires of early youth somewhat tempered by years of experience,” 5 who regulated the Pawnee hunt, also constituted an age- class. None of these groups seems to have comprised all tribesmen of approximately the same age, and none of them formed one of a progressive series of ceremonial organizations. It is interesting to note that among the Gros Ventre, where the old age-companies have for a long time been super¬ seded by the societies of the star-dancers and war-dancers, the members of these new organizations have naturally assumed the police powers formerly vested in some of the older societies.6 Still more instructive is the consti¬ tution of the Osage police force. In this tribe a gentile system prevailed,

1 Maximilian, II, p. 141.

2 Mooney, (a), p. 990.

2 J. O. Dorsey, (a), pp. 288-289, 321, 363. James, I, p. 189.

4 Riggs, pp. 195-198, 200-202.

5 Grinnell, (a), pp. 274-275.

0 Kroeber, (b), p. 239.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History . [Vol. IV,

but military or age-societies have not been recorded. The camp-circle was divided into a War and a Peace moiety, find four of the gentes, two for each side, furnished the tribal constables, who were again primarily officers of the hunt.1 The association of age-societies with police powers must thus be considered a secondary one. In the Plains area, police functions developed in connection with the camp-circle and the tribal hunt. Where age-societies had arisen, these disciplinary duties fell to their lot. Where ungraded mili¬ tary societies occurred, police functions were attached to them. Among the Osage, where there was a gentile system, some of the gentes exercised corresponding powers.

The principal conclusions arrived at in the preceding discussion may be briefly summarized as follows: The age-societies of the Plains Indians are not simple age-classes comparable to those of the Omaha feasting societies. The system of age-classification exemplified by them must have had a single origin, but the changes the several orders have undergone are such that their historical development can no longer be traced in detail. It is clear that the age-societies of even a single series do not all conform to one ceremonial type. Ceremonially, age-societies cannot be separated from “religious” or other forms of organization occurring either in the same or in other tribes. However old natural age-classes may be, the age-groups represented by the age-societies must be considered of later origin than the ceremonial traits shared by them with other organizations. Certain military characteristics ally certain of the age-societies with certain ungraded societies of the Crow, Cheyenne, Kiowa, Assiniboine, Dakota and Omaha; the combinations of these characteristics differ considerably. The development of the military features is to some extent illuminated by the mode of organization of war- parties. Clownish behavior and police functions likewise occur in varying combinations and cannot be taken to define any one type of organization of the Plains Indians. In further investigations of the age-societies, it will thus be necessary to eliminate wholesale comparisons either of orders or societies in favor of an intensive comparative study of well-defined single traits. Each series, as well as each society, will then appear, to some extent, as a unique historical product determined by specifically tribal factors; in part, their development will be seen to have resulted from a novel synthesis of singly widespread elements; while in some instances it may be possible to prove the direct borrowing of elements, or their combinations, from a definite source.

1 J. O. Dorsey, (c), pp. 233-237.

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

99

t 1909.]

II. MYTHOLOGY.

Comparative.

As might have been expected from the linguistic and geographical affiliations of the Assiniboine, their mythology is of a composite type. For comparative purposes, it seems best to consider the trickster cycle separately from the other tales.

Inkton'mi (Stoney: Inktu'mni ) is obviously merely a dialectic variation of the Dakota name Unktomi, Ikto or Iktomi, and the character itself corre¬ sponds to the Omaha Ictinike. Unfortunately, the Dakota material avail¬ able for comparison is extremely meagre. However, we can combine all the trickster tales of the Crow, Dakota, Omaha and Osage, and it may then become permissible to offer some suggestions as to the relation of the Inktor',mi cycle to the corresponding body of Siouan folklore. Making this comparison, we find but relatively few elements that are shared by the Assiniboine with their Siouan congeners. Of these, the story of the hood¬ winked dancers is found among practically all the tribes of the Plains and Central Algonkian groups, and the earth-diver incident is likewise too widely diffused to serve as a criterion of historical significance. In fact, there is not a single incident common to the Assiniboine and Siouan tribes that is not also found outside the pale of this linguistic stock. On the other hand, the influence of contact with the Cree is manifest; of about thirty Assiniboine episodes of comparative interest, seventeen are also found among the Cree, and this in spite of our extremely unsatisfactory knowledge of Cree mythology. The hardly less noticeable number of similarities with the Blac-kfoot and Arapaho-Gros Ventre also indicates the overshadowing effect of relatively recent contact in the elaboration of the Inkton,m* myth. That some of the incidents have been directly adopted from the Cree even where they are lacking in published collections of Cree folklore is indicated by the distribution of the “day-year visitors” motive. Found only among the Central Algonkian and referred to Cree heroes in one of the Stoney versions, it may safely be regarded as a modern Cree intrusion. The relation of the Assiniboine Dkto^nd to the Santee Unktomi is thus of the vaguest character. Pending further researches into Dakota mythology, it might be said that, in harmony with the original conception of the character, numerous trickster tales appear to have been adopted into the cycle from neighboring tribes, while others have probably disappeared, so that nothing but the name and the trickster type of character remain. It may also be pointed out that the

100

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV

Assiniboine trickster is by no means the uniformly malevolent character pictured by Riggs.1 In the distribution, of ceremonials, in the instruction of mankind, the slaying of the giant and the theft of summer, he appears at times as the culture-hero, or at least as the transitional figure described by Professor Boas.2

To myths not connected with the trickster cycle, the Cree appear to have contributed a fair share, without taking the first place in point of influence. Treating the Assiniboine poor boy and snake-paramour stories as units, about one-third of the tales shared with any tribe whatsoever are common to the Assiniboine and Cree. Proceeding on the assumption previously made — that stories recorded exclusively among Central Algonkian tribes and the Assiniboine have been introduced by the Cree — the percentage is not noticeably increased. The relationship is strongest with the other western Algonkian. Treating the Arapaho and Gros Ventre as one people and dis¬ regarding the Cheyenne, whose folklore is but inadequately known, we find that each of the three western Algonkian divisions shares Assiniboine myths in approximately equal measure. About the same percentage of homologies is found on comparison with the Omaha. For some of these, such as the sun-catcher and “two brothers” myths, there is fair reason to assume an Algonkian rather than a Siouan origin, certainly so far as their appearance among the Assiniboine is concerned. While therefore, in the absence of much more complete data from the Crow and the Dakota, it may appear premature to generalize, the conclusion seems warranted, on the basis of available material, that Assiniboine mythology bears but weak testimony to the historically and linguistically known relation of the Assiniboine to the Sioux, rather emphasizing the influence of recent contact with other tribes.

Trickster3 Cycle.

I.4

Long ago there was water everywhere. Sitco’Vski was traveling about in a moose-skin boat. He saw the Muskrat coming: towards him, holding

O 7 O

• ; . . . . . . . . . — ■ ;■ II

1 Riggs, p. 138.

2 Boas, Introduction to Teit’s Traditions of the Thompson River Indians of British Columbia.

2 Called Inkton'mi or Sitcan'-yuckin' by the Assiniboine, Inktu'mni or Sitcon'ski by the

Stoneys.

4 The younger Henry (Coues, p. 521) has Eth'tome causing the flood by his misconduct and then embarking in a twig-canoe with a pair of each species of animals ; the Muskrat dives for earth. A similar version appeared in the Journal of American Folk-Lore , Vol. V, 1892, p. 73.

The Assiniboine myths here presented were all collected at Morley, Alberta and Ft. Belknap Montana. Those not credited in footnotes to the latter division of the tribe were recorded at Morley.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

101

something in its paws. “What are you holding there?” “Nothing.” “Let me see, and I’ll take you into my boat.” The Muskrat showed him the mud it was holding in its paws. Sitcon'ski took it, saying, “I am going to make the earth out of this.” lie rubbed the mud between his palms, breathed on it, and thus made the earth.1

At that time the Muskrat had a tail such as the Beaver now has. Sitcom- ski met them and said, “Change tails. You have a small body Muskrat, your tail is too large.” This is how the Beaver got its tail.2

2. 3

All the earth was flooded with water. InktoI1'm1 sent animals to dive for dirt at the bottom of the sea. No animal was able to get any. At last he sent the Muskrat. It came up dead, but with dirt in its claws. Inkton,m‘ saw the dirt, took it, and made the earth out of it.

II1kton,mi was wearing a wolf -skin robe. He said, “There shall be as many months as there are hairs on this skin before it shall be summer.” 4 Frog said, “If the winter lasts as long as that, no creature will be able to live. Seven months of winter will be enough.” He kept on repeating this, until Inkton/mi got angry, and killed him. Still Frog stuck out seven of his toes. Finally, Lkto^nA consented, and said there should be seven winter months.

Lkto^nA then created men and horses out of dirt. Some of the Assini¬ boine and other northern tribes had no horses. Inkton,m1 told the Assini¬ boine that they were always to steal horses from other tribes.

3. 5 * *

Once the whole earth was covered with snow. Inkton/m* was called to the sky by some supernatural beings, who asked him to help them get rid of the snow. “If you help us, you’ll be able to fool people and to make any¬ thing talk excepting water.’’ Inkton,m4 was satisfied. I hen one of the beings said, “Far east, beyond the extremity of the snow-field, there is a man who keeps the summer weather, there it is always summer. I hen he asked Lkto"'!!!' to try to steal the good weather out of the owner’s lodge, to one of

1 Cf. Petitot, p. 473 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 19 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 59 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 16 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 281 (Crow); Schoolcraft, p 39 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 134 (Menomini) ; Jones, p. 365 (Fox).

2 The same incident is recorded in a Cree myth, Annual Archceological Report for 1904,

pp. 93-94.

a Ft. Belknap.

• Cf. Teit, p. 626 (Shuswap).

s Ft. Belknap. Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 65 (Gros Ventre); Simms, p. 283 (Crow). For

the theft of heat, kept in a bag, cf. Petitot, p. 373, (Chipewyan), Teit, p. 624 (Shuswap).

102

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

the poles of which it was tied. The owner was very wakan/, and knew immediately whenever anyone approached his lodge, hor that reason it was very hard to steal the good weather. He also had servants, birds among them, to help him watch. He said if anyone stole the summer, it would be well, but until people got it by theft he would keep it for himself. Inkton/m1 said to the supernatural beings, “ If I go down to the earth again, I must have the power to make things talk right away.” They consented. Then he declared he would get the summer, and descended to the earth.

RkhWm1 lay down on the highest point covered with snow. He was shivering, and built a fire. Seeing a jack-rabbit, he said, “Younger brother, come here.” The Rabbit went to him. “Brother have you seen any ani¬ mals around here?” “Yes.” “Which ones?” “The Wolf, the Coyote, the Red Fox, and some birds.” “Brother, bid them come here to see me, that am their brother.” “In the night Rabbit ran off, and delivered his message. The next morning all came to T1kton'm1. Inkton,m1 said, “Brethren, we’ll look for summer weather, steal it, and bring it to this country.” One of them asked, “What is summer?” But Inkton,mi re¬ plied, “Don’t ask any questions, do what I tell you, and it will be good for us. We’ll start to-night.”

They set out towards the east, and traveled many months. Finally, they got to the end of the snow. Inkton'mi planted a long pole there, and on the top of it placed the Tcedan/, a fast-flving bird (sailing-hawk?). In front of it, on summer-ground, stood the Rabbit, before him the Coyote, in front of the Coyote the Red Fox, then the Wolf, the Fox, and the Kata'¬ pknada'da11 (an owl-like bird). Inkton,m1 encouraged his assistants, then he called the Kata'pknada'da11 and bade him fly to a large lodge facing towards the east. InktoIl/mi’s party had approached it from the rear. “Fly to that camp very carefully, get to the smoke-hole, and peep in to see whether the good weather is tied up anywhere inside. Don’t let the owner see you.” The bird flewT to the tipi, and alighted on a pole. As he was looking in, the owner asked, “What are you doing?” The Kata'pknada'da11 did not reply. The man seized a firebrand and struck the bird’s nose, burn¬ ing it. When he lowered the stick, the bird flew off. “I wonder what they are trying to do.” He summoned a servant, and bade him build a fire outside and keep watch.

Rkto^m1 was waiting for the Kata'pknada'da11’ s return. The bird told him that the good weather was in the lodge, and its owner was seated under it. “That is all you have to do,” said Rkto^m1. “I needed you because ^ou aie a bird that can fly noiselessly. Then he encouraged the Fox, bidding him steal the good weather. I'-kto'Dii1 wore a fox-skin clout. “Follow me,” he said to the Fox, “I’ll go up to the servant and talk to him.

) 1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

103

I’ll stand in front, so he won’t be able to see you. Then you can jump J at the bag containing the summer and rush out again.” Inkton'm1 walked l towards the lodge with his clout hanging to the ground, and the Fox follow- i ing. When they approached the tipi, the servant said, “ Inkton/m1 is coming. What do you wish to see my brother about?” Inkton'ml took out some glue and closed the servant’s mouth. Then he choked him, and threw him into the fire. ‘‘Let us go nearer,” he said to the Fox. When they got very : close, he said, “Crawl in from the rear, snatch off the bag and run out.

He’ll pursue you, but run between my legs, get to the other animals, and j pass the bag to the next in line.” The Fox crawled in, while Inkton,m‘ waited at a distance. He seized the bag, and ran, pursued by the owner, l While he was passing between Inkton'm1’s outspread legs, the man caught • hold of the trailing fox-skin breechclout. PLto'^m1 also seized it, crying, “I have caught him!” The man turned the skin over. “You must be

I©

sitting on him.” “No, I seized him, perhaps he has gone underground, let us look in there.” The owner looked everywhere, but did not find anything. “Let us think about it,” said LktoH'm1. They sat down, and considered,

: the matter. Inkton,m1 was carrying his arrows and his pipe with him.

After a while, the owner saw that the Fox had passed the bag to the Wolf, who ran on with it. The Red-Fox took it from the Wolf, and passed it to the Coyote, who ran and gave it to the Jack-Rabbit. The Jack-Rabbit carried it close to the snowbank. The owner gave chase, but all the animals ) disappeared underground, where he had no power. At last the Rabbit passed it to the Tceda11'. The Tceda11' rose from the top of his pole, and flew away with the heat. The owner sent wakan/ birds after him. The Tceda11' first soared high up, then suddenly darted down, skimming the surface of the snow. The birds returned to the owner, telling him they could not find the fugitive. The owner cried, and returned to his home, where LktoYn1 met him.

Inkton m1 sprinkled water on his face, and pretended to be perspiring from his exertions in the owner’s behalf. “Did you catch him ? I tried to find him, but failed.” He feigned great anger, tore up the earth with a knife, and threatened to kill the thief with it. “ Let us track him,” he suggested. The owner said, “No, I’ll go back. Perhaps he has returned it to its place. See if you can get him for me.” Lkto^m1 promised to pursue the thieves, and walked to the summit of a hill, where all his helpers were seated around a fire. LktoYn1 said, “Brethren, we have it now. Bring that bag down. The Tceda11', who was coming on the wing, brought it down. “Let us see whether it is the right one.” He untied the bag, and, as he spread it open, the snow on which they were seated disappeared, they were sitting on the bare ground, and the leaves were sprouting on the trees. “ I think we have

104

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

the right one, now let us get something to eat.” All went away to hunt for food, and each returned with something to eat. The next day he said, “Let us go home.” He tied up the bag, and the ground was covered with snow again.

They traveled on. LktoYn1 said, “Stop, brethren, I’ll try to do some¬ thing.” He opened his bag again, making a path of bare ground ahead of them to travel on. After a while he made another path clear of snow. Thus they continued traveling. After a while, the Wolf and the Foxes said they were tired of walking on the bare ground. “Let me know when your feet get tender, and I’ll change off.” So Lkto^m1 closed the bag, and made snow once more. At last, he said, “I am going to take this bag up there; when I come back to the earth, I’ll have a talk with you.” So Inkton/m1 ascended to the sky with his bag.

LktoYn1 gave the bag to Otee'giyeya'bi.1 Otee'giyeya'bi said, “I shall call up every species of animals and ask what kind of weather they prefer, and for how long a period. For the present, I shall make summer.” So he untied the bag, and it was summer. He called up all the beasts and all the birds. Frost (Wazl'ya) was there too. Otee'giyeya'bi said, “HktoYn1 will be the judge, the animals will plead.” One animal said, “Let the winter last forty months.” But another answered, “No, we have just had a long winter, that is not at all good.” A third one suggested that there should not be any winter whatsoever. Inkton/m1 looked at the last speaker, and said, “ Get out of here, you come from the man we stole this from.” Frost said, “You ought to have winter part of the time; summer alone would not be good, you ought to change.” The Fox said he wanted snow for part of the year. I he A olf, Coyote, Rabbit and the birds all agreed with him.

Then Inkton'm1 asked them in regard to human beings in the world. “How long ought they to live ? ” One said, “Let them live forever.” “ No,” said another, there would be too many, they would drive us out of the coun¬ try.” A third debater thought people ought to die whenever they were taken sick. A fourth said, “There is no use to put them on the earth, if they are to die.” Still another said, “Let those that get sick die, but let them come back to life again after four days.” At last LktoYn1 said, “No, let there be people to enjoy the world, but when they die they shall not return. Their souls will go elsewhere, but their bodies must not come back.”

Then they discussed the seasons again. Frog was there with his pipe. He was the last one to speak, and said, “Let there be six months of winter and six months of summer.” 2 LktoYT snatched up a club, and hit him over the head, saying, “That is too short a time.” Frog stretched out his

Great Spirit?

Cf. Lowie, p. 274 (Shoshone);

Simms, p. 284 (Crow).

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

105

hands. Then Inkton'mi took pity on him, and helped him sit up again. “I’ll do as you say, there shall be six months of winter, and six months of summer.” Then he said to Frost, “All are through talking, I shall judge as best I know how. You must go far north, and stay there. When the winter comes, you may take charge for half the year. 5 ou may make some days of cold weather, but don’t make it too cold, or we 11 keep you here, and then there will not be any more winter.” Frog agreed to these terms. Then Inkton'm' bade all the animals dive into a hole containing fat. “ this will get into your bodies,” he said, “ and will keep you warm in the winter.

4.2

Inktu'mni traveled along the Old-Man River. He used to play with stones, which he piled up in large heaps. When he sat down on a rock, a mark was made by his buttocks, and when he lay down prone with his aims before his face a mark was made by his arms and legs. The impress of his body is still visible on the rocks.

5.3

It was near Porcupine Hill and Old-Man River that women were first found. The men were living in a valley by themselves, and all the women were living on the other side of the mountains. Both constructed buffalo pounds. Once a man and a woman, both driving buffalo, met for the first time. “Quid istud?” vir interrogavit. “Hie quidem cunnus est; quid istud?” “Men tula” respondit. “Cui bono?” “Ad copulandum.” Coire conati sunt, mulieri melli erat. “I’ll take you home, she said, “there are many women there.” She took the man to her camp. \ hen he had returned to his own home, he told the men that he had found many women and had enjoyed cohabitation. The next morning the men followed him, Siteon'ski among them. All the women were drawn up in a line, and so were the men. Then the chieftainess said, “ I am going to select the man I like best.” She chose SitcoTski, seizing his hand, but he refused to go with her. Then she ordered the other women not to choose Sitcon'ski. All

1 For the last incident, see Russell, p. 209 (Cree).

The following fragmentary version was obtained at Morley: Long ago it was always wintei . The people were looking for summer. At last they reached a lodge. Its owner said, "I have the summer hanging up here.” The Snow-Man (Wa-ye'du wintca'cta) stole the summei. Once while he was bathing, the white ducks ran away with it. Thus the people got summei.

In two interesting particulars, the warning of Frost and the antagonism of Irog, the Wisa- ketcak myth of the Cree as recorded by James Stewart ( Annual Archaeological Report lor 1904, pp. 90 et seq.) resembles the Assiniboine myth.

2 Also heard by the writer among the Cree. Cf. Grinnell, (c), p 137 (Blackfoo ).

3 Wissler and Duvall, p. 21 (Blackfoot).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

the women selected husbands, but Sitcon'ski remained single. Sitcon'ski walked away singing. He got to a hill and slid down, leaving the impress of his buttocks and testes. The marks are still visible.

6.1

Once Inkton,m‘ was walking along the edge of a big lake. He wanted to cross to the other side, but could not swim over. He was thinking of how he might get over, when he noticed a young man paddling a canoe. When he had got close, Inkton,m1 hailed him and asked where he was some:. “I am shooting ducks.” “Very well,” said Ukto^m1, “ I’ll paddle your canoe, while ypu are shooting.” The youth consented, and they proceeded together. Inkton'ml, after a while, said, “Brother, let me go across, while you are plucking the ducks.” So he paddled across, tied the canoe, and climbed up a hill, from which he beheld a circle of forty lodges with one in the center. Approaching, he found a girl on the outskirts. “Are there any men here?” “We don’t know what men are.” “Who lives in the center of the circle?” “Two chieftainesses, who look after us. Go to them, they are our leaders. He entered the lodge and found some small swings inside. On the right side there was a young fox strapped to a pappoose-board, and on the left there was a rabbit. The rabbit jumped up, and counted coup on Inkton'm1, which meant that he would belong to the chieftainess that was the rabbit’s mother. So the rabbit-woman sat by Inktori/m1 and handed him a bowl of pemmican, which he ate. When through eating, he returned the bowl, and asked, “What are these two here for?” “These are our children.” “Are there any men here?” “No, we don t know what men are. ’ The lodge was beautifully decorated with quill work; there were all kinds of work-bags inside. Inkton'mi thought,

I am going to show them something. Sublata veste mentulam erectam eis demonstravit. I he rabbit’s mother first noticed it, and stooped down to look at it more closely. The other chieftainness also looked down. “ Istud quid est, cui bono? ‘Ad copulandum.” “Qua in parte corporis coire oportet?” “Prope aecedite, et vobis demonstrabo.” Sublatis vestibus, eaium cunnos indicavit. “In hunc locum si penem inseram, vobis dulce erit. Una in terrain deposita, cum ea eopulavit, tantamque ex eo deleeta- tionem cepit ut iterum fieri veiled Turn altera, “Ego quoque” inquit discere volo. Dum cum hac muliere coit, leporis mater mulieres omnes certiores fecit, et omnes quid esset coitus scire voluerunt. Cum eis invicem coiit donee penis defatigatus est. Multae tamen virgines remanebant quae

Cree.

1 Ft. Belknap. The central incident was recorded by Mr. Skinner among the Albany

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

107

coire vellent. Ille effugere voluit. “Post coitum vos gravidae eritis, in¬ fantes parietis, cpii ex hoc orificio proficiscentur.” Credere noluerunt. “Infantes” ait “mares et muliebres parietis. Mares sunt cpii cum hac re pendula nascantur.” Inkton,mi qui effugere voluit, “Mingere ait volo et cacare. Vos me mingentem adspicere non oportet.” Tamen mulieres eum retinere voluerunt ut non effugiat. Alae mihi absunt, non effugeie possum, in hunc collem mincturus eo. He went away. When he got to the hill, he made a dash for the canoe. One woman saw him fleeing and gave the alarm. All rushed after him, but he had the start and reached the canoe. In vain the women tried to swim after him. When he got to his companion, he said, “Well, brother, let us go on, 1 found nothing there but rocks.” The women followed along the shore until the men became in¬ visible.

7.1

In the fall the geese were flying. Inktu'mni said, I should like to fh with you.” The geese said, “Flying is difficult.” “I don’t care, I wish to fly.” Then eight of the geese took him up and began to fly, supporting him. Inktu'mni said, “We are having a good time.” The geese knew what a trickster P'ktu'nmi was. When they caught sight of a mud-hole, they dropped Wktu'mni into it, and flew away. For several days Inktu'mni stuck in the mud up to his waist.

Sitcon'ski said, “I am lonesome, let me travel with you, Eagle.’ Eagle agreed. They flew up towards the sky, but there Eagle left him alone on an icy mountain 'in the clouds. Sitcon'ski begged to be taken down, but Eagle paid no attention to him. At last the ice began to melt. Sitco"'ski said, “I shall strike the earth in a soft spot.” He fell head foremost into a

swamp, where he stuck fast up to his hips.

He began to plot against Eagle. He said to all the animals, I shall turn myself into a moose. After that, don’t eat fat from my hips.” 2 When Eagle flew down, he wanted to eat some of the forbidden food, but he saw Sitcon'ski’s eyes move, and drew back. At last he took a bite, then he ate more. Sitcon'ski said, “I wished to be revenged on you, because you, abandoned me on the mountain.” He arose, but Eagle perished.

The color of the eagle’s head is due to his rubbing it against Sitcon'ski’ s

anus. _

1 Cf. Schoolcraft, p. 63 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 165 (Menomini). Mr. Skinner has col¬ lected a similar tale among the Albany Cree. H ff o03.

2 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 147 (Blackfoot); J. O. Dorsey (d), p. 78 (Omaha), Hoffman, p. -03,

(Menomini).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

In the fall Sitcon/ski was traveling by a ‘big lake. He heard geese making a noise near-by. Holding his hands before his face, he began to cry. The geese asked, “Why are you crying?” “I should like to fly home with you, because I hear you sing and laugh so much.” They replied, “When the Indians shoot at us, we have a hard time of it.” Still Sitcon'ski persisted, and at last the geese consented to take him up. They started to fly. When they came near the Indians, the people cried, “That big goose is Sitcon/ski.” They began to shoot at the birds. All the geese scattered, dropping Sitcom- ski. While falling, he said, “I wish to land in a soft spot.” He fell head over heels into a mud-hole, so that only his anus was visible.

The mice saw it and said, “This looks like Sitcon/ski’s anus.” They informed the people. When they looked at it, they also said it looked like Siteon,ski’s anus. Then the mice attempted to crawl in, but Sitcon,ski shook them off. Then they said, “It is surely his.”

10.1

When T'ktuhnni had finally got out of the mud-hole, he sat down on a stone. He began talking to the rock. The rock asked him for a gift, which he refused. The rock got angry and caught Hktuhnni, holding him for four days. Wktuhnni vainly tried to free himself. At last he saw a flock of birds flying by. He begged them to help him. One of the birds said, A ou have deceived all of us, I won’t help you.” Inktu/mni said, “If you aid me, I will give you my best-looking daughter.” The birds then flew up to the sky and came down again as swiftly as possible, causing a wind to blow. I he rock began to move a little. They repeated this four times. 1 he last time the rock was shattered to pieces. Then T'ktu'mni got up. I have no daughter,” he said. Then he walked off.

1 ktu mm met a black bear near a large rock. He erected a sweat- lodge and said he wanted to sweat with the bear. Then he built a big fire and put hot stones into the lodge. “You go in first, Bear.” Bear went in. Tktu'mni stopped up all the openings. Then he placed large logs around the lodge to prevent Bear’s escape. When the heat had become intense, the

This story, as told by one informant, directly follows 7. For the incident of the rock PU9Sflaer/c°h C,apt0r,’ Ci- Russe11' P- 210 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 24 (Blackfoot); Lowie p. 264 (Shoshone) ; Xroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 69 (Arapaho)’ G. A. Dorsey (d), p. 143 (Ankara); Id., (a), p. 261 (Pawnee). The liberation by birds occurs in all these versions except that of the Shoshone. *

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

109

1909.]

Bear tried to get out, but Inktu'mni laid him low with a club. He skinned the Bear, which was fat and furnished a good deal of grease. Inktu'mni looked about, and asked some whiskey-jacks to get him a pot. After he had cooked the meat, he summoned all the animals, wishing to distribute the food among them.

As he was standing by a rock, the rock suddenly seized him so that he could not move. Frog noticed it, and informed everyone. “He is caught, he can’t do anything.” The animals ate up all the meat.1 Inktu'mni was held fast for two days. Then he heard the noise of birds flying by. He promised to give one of his daughters to each of two birds, if they would break the stone for him. One bird said, “Perhaps you have no daughters and are only deceiving us.” Inktu/mni said, ‘ No, it is true. lhen the birds caused a wind to blow, which burst the rock, freeing Inktu mni. 1 hen Inktu'mni told them he had no daughters.

12.2

Fisher had taken some of Sitcon/ski’s bear meat, and Sitcon'ski tracked him until he reached a body of clear water, h isher was up in a tree, but Sitcon'ski saw his image in the water and dived down, but could not catch him. He looked around, still he saw Fisher in the same place. He dived again, then Fisher cried, “What are you looking for in the water ?” “ I am

seeking shellfish for my grandchild.” At last, he caught sight of Fisher eating the stolen meat. “Give me some bear meat.” “Shut your eyes and open your mouth, and I’ll give you some.” The first time Fisher dropped a little piece. The second time he threw down a larger one. Sitcon'ski wanted a still larger one. “Shut your eyes tight and open your mouth, and I’ll give you a large piece.” Then Fisher dropped a knife into his mouth. Inktu'mni fell dead, but after five days he awoke again.

13.3

Inktu'mni was walking along the bank of a river. The water was clear and he was able to see berries in it. He plunged down, but could not find any. Then he made a bark rope and went in once more. After a long

1 For the incident of the theft of the captive trickster’s booty, cf. Russell, p. 208 (Cree) ; Grinnell, p 172 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (d), p. 166 (Cheyenne); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 566 (Omaha) Kohl, II, p. 223 (Ojibwa); Jones, p. 287 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 141 (Ankara); Id., (a), p. 248 (Pawnee); Id., (e) p. 2S1 (Wichita).

2 Directly follows 11. .

3 Cf Russell, p. 214 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 29 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. -69 (Sho- shoneV Kroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 101 (Arapaho); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 562 (Omaha); Hoffman, p. 164 (Menomini); G. A. Dorsey, (e), p. 273 (Wichita).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

time he came out again. He had nearly been drowned. He lay down on his back and then saw that the berries were right above him. He had merely seen their reflection in the water. He was very angry.

14.1

When restored to life, Sitcon'ski walked away. He met a young hen in the woods. “What is your name?” “Hen.” He asked again, “What is your name?” “My name scares everyone.” Sitcon'ski said, “You can’t scare me.” He seized the chicken and defecated, then he threw it away. “See you can’t frighten me.” The old hen was angry. As Sitcon'ski was walking by the river, she flapped her wings near him, Sitcon'ski wras so scared that he fell into the river.2

He swam for a long time, at last he managed to get out, and wralked on. He was very angry and decided to kill whomsoever he could. He met Mink. Mink said, “There is a big fish in the water, let us try to kill it.” Mink was eager to kill the fish, but did not know how. Sitcon'ski said he would kill it by a ruse. He went to a lake near-by and told the fish living there that the other fish w'as reviling him and calling him blind. Then the fish challenged his supposed abuser to a combat. “I’ll help the weaker one,” said Sitcon/ski. When one fish had killed the other, Sitcon'ski slew' the victor. I hen he said to Mink, “Go away, you shall not have any of the food.”

Sitoon'ski left the fish on a rock and w'ent off for a drink and to get a pot. When Mink, w'ho had been watching from the opposite shore, saw the meat unguarded, he swam across, threw the two fish into the water and jumped in after them. When Sitcon,ski returned, he saw' that the fish were o-one. He saw' Mink cutting them up at a distance, but could not shoot him.

Sitcon/ski w'as raging. He said to Thunder, “Everyone abuses you and myself. Do you know any w^ay to kill all the people?” Thunder said, “les, I can cause a flood.” Then he made it pour for a long time. Si¬ tcon'ski made himself a wing, and ascended a high tree. All the animals without wings perished. Only the birds survived the flood. Sitcon'ski invited Eagle to live with him on a mountain-top. After four days Sitcon'¬ ski got hungry, and requested Eagle to ask Thunder to stop the rain. Thun¬ der stopped the rain; there were many creeks then. Then Thunder bade them pick up all the dead, dry buffalo meat, and asked them to call him when they were done. Sitcon'ski kicked the bones of all the dead animals, bidding them w'ake up. Then all arose. One dead buffalo w'as left. Si-

1 Directly follows 12.

2 Cf. Teit, p. 629 (Shuswap); Russell, p. 211 (Cree).

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

Ill

tcon/ski took his meat and dried it. Then Eagle told Thunder that the meat was ready, and Thunder came down. All the animals were alive again.

Sitcon'ski was by a big lake and saw many geese on the opposite side. He went to the woods, filled two sacks with bark and carried them home on his back. He passed near the geese. The geese asked, “What have you there?” “If you do what I bid you, I’ll tell you.” The geese promised to do whatever he wished. “Perhaps you won’t do it.” The geese were very curious, and agreed to anything. Sitcon'ski then told them his bags contained something for a dance-lodge. “You must dance in it with shut eyes.” He unpacked his bags, erected a willow-lodge, and covered it with bark. “When I begin to sing,” he said, “I watch my door. Shut your eyes when you begin to dance.” He intoned the song. All shut their eyes, and Siteon'ski went from one bird to another, wringing their necks. One of the geese opened its eyes, and seeing what Siteon,ski was doing, cried, “Let us flee, or we shall all be killed.” The survivors fled to the lake, pursued by Siteon'ski, and made their escape.1

Siteon'ski returned laughing. He cooked the dead geese. When he was done cooking, Fox approached. Seeing the food, he tied up one of his legs, pretended it was swollen, and began to hobble along on a staff. Si- tcon'ski, seeing that Fox was limping, cried, “Come here, brother.” Fox came, and lay down panting. Sitcon'ski cut some brush and leaves to cover his food. Then he said, “Brother, let us run around the lake. Whoever wins, shall have the geese.” Fox replied, “I have a sore leg, I can’t run.” Sitcon'ski said, “I’ll tie a large rock to both my feet.” Fox then agreed to run, and was told to go ahead. He limped into the brush, while Siteon/ski tied stones to his feet. Fox removed the padding put on to give a swollen appearance to his leg, and ran as fast as he could. Returning to the geese, he devoured all the food, then he replaced the cover put over it. He went away to where he could watch Sitcon'ski. At last Sitcon'ski arrived, per¬ spiring. He went to the geese, and picked up a bone, “Some one must have eaten this goose.” He threw the bone away. Then he saw that only bones were left. He was very angry.2

1 For the t,ale of the hoodwinked dancers, cf. Russell, p. 212 (Cree); Kroeber, (e), p. 71 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber p. 59 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p 165 (Cheyenne); Simms, p. 288 (Crow)'; Riggs, p. 113 (Dakota); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 67 (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (c), p' 9 (Osage); Schoolcraft, p. 30 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 204 (Menomini); Jones, p. 279 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 265. It has been recorded by St. Clair among the Comanche.

2 The tale of the trickster’s race is recorded by Wissler and Duvall, p. 28 and Grinnell, (c), p. 156 (Blackfoot) ; by Kroeber, (d), p. 168 (Cheyenne); and Lowie, p. 274 (Shoshone). It was heard by the writer among the Cree.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV.

16. 1

Inkton/mi was walking along. He whs so hungry that he could hardly walk. He got on a hill, and saw a large flock of ducks on the lake. He seized his knife, scratched himself, cut his hair, and took a pole for a cane. He was going to trick them. When he was close to the birds, he sat down and cried. One duck approached and asked, “ Why are you crying ? ” “My brother has been killed, and I am out to revenge his death, and don’t care if I get killed myself. I heard that ahead of me there were my brethren, so I thought of asking them to accompany me. Go, tell your chief what I have told you. Tell him I want the biggest and fattest ducks to join my party, I do not want weak ones.” The duck obeyed, and announced the message. The chief agreed to accompany Inkton'mi, and the messenger flew back to tell him so.

Inkton,mi walked towards them. “First I must mix tobacco.” He mixed tobacco, put it in his pouch, picked up his pipe, and approached the ducks. The chief asked him what were his intentions, and he told him the same story as before. “But before we start, we will give a dance here. Are there any turtles in this lake?” “Yes.” “If there were no turtles here, we could not have the dance.” A duck flew to the Turtle and invited him to watch the dance. Inkton/mi told Turtle he was going to give him the dance, which he would thenceforth have the right to perform. Turtle was willing. Inkton'mi bade him stay in the center of the dance-ground. Then Ir'kton'nT bade the chief select the biggest ducks for the first circle. Outside of these were placed the next best, until four circles of dancers had been formed. When all were ready to start, lnkton,m1 said, “There is one rule in this dance which you must not break, or we shall not be able to per¬ form it. Not one of you must keep his eyes open, whosoever disobeys, will have red eyes. Turtle will tell you when to open your eyes.”

Everyone was ready. Inkton’m1 began to sing. They started dancing, making a noise as if swimming. “I shall sing here,” said Inkton,m1, while walking around the first and second circles. While they were dancing, he seized their necks and wrung them without being observed. “Dance hard,” he cried, “until Turtle bids you open your eyes!” Thus he killed the dancers of three circles. One duck in the fourth ring opened his eyes and cried, “Inkton'm’ is killing you off.” Then the remainder flew away, but In- kto11'!!!1 made their eyes red. All flew off, and Turtle made a dash for the water, but Inkton/mi killed him with a pole. He yelled after the ducks, “I don’t want any more of you.” He was happy, plucked the ducks he had killed, and cooked them for a feast.

1 Ft. Belknap. The first part of the tale, the episode of the hoodwinked dancers, was also obtained as a text.

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Before being slain, Turtle warned Dkto^nff not to drink water for four ; days, but Inkton'mi had answered, “ I can drink water any time.”

Inkton'm1 roasted one of the ducks. An old coyote came up, pretending ; to be lame and dragging along one of his legs. I nk tonin' asked, “ Brother, what are you looking for?” “I was looking for food, but, jumping over the cut-bank, I injured my leg and can’t get anything now.” “I’ll help you,” said Inkton m1, go to the cut-bank and say, ‘ I want to borrow a bucket.’ A man from the inside of the bank will hand you one. Do not look at his face, but bring the bucket here.”

Coyote went to the bank, and acted according to his directions. A man j handed him a copper bucket. He limped back with it, but Inkton/mi said, Brother, this is not the one I want, this belongs to the chief’s daughter,

: take it back.” Coyote protested that it was hard for him to walk, but Ink- ton'ml said that unless he obeyed he would get nothing to eat. So Coyote returned the bucket and asked for another. This time he received a brass bucket of the same size, which he brought to Inkton/mi. “Is this it?” “No, take it back, I want another one.” Coyote returned it, and got a large white one, but Inkton/m1 said, “It belongs to the chief’s wife, take it back : and ask for his mother-in-law’s.” Coyote said, “You should have told me i that before, it is hard for me to walk.” Inkton,mi thought he might kill | Coyote by tiring him out. “Go on,” he said, “hurry now.” Coyote went i and asked for the mother-in-law’s bucket. He received a very large and dirty one with a rawhide grip, dotted with holes which were plugged with buffalo skin. When he brought it back, Inkton'ml said, “ You have the right one now.” Inkton,mi took it and asked whether Coyote was able to | fetch wTater. Coyote said he could not, so Inkton’mi went himself, and sus- 1 pended the water-bucket from a tripod. He cooked all the fowl, and when : ready, he placed them on the ground. Three bucketfuls were thus cooked and laid on the ground. When all the ducks had been cooked, Dkto^m1 was perspiring from his exertions. Coyote was lying down, feigning ex¬ haustion. Inkton'm1 sat down on a large rock, and wiped his forehead. He was going to invite Coyote to join him in the feast, but found he could not rise, because he was sticking fast to the rock. Addressing the rock in a low voice, he said, “Brother, let me go, we’ll feast together.” The rock did not reply, nor did it release him. Coyote said, “You had better come and eat.” I'Tto^m1 said, “There is no hurry, I’ll give you something.” Coyote, however, discovered what was the matter, ran to a hill, growled, and ran back again. A large pack of wolves and coyotes, which had thus been notified, came and ate up all the food. Inkton/ml begged to have some left for himself, but they paid no attention to him. When they were through eating, they ran away.

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Inkton,m*/ was crving. He saw some bl,cku (birds with white-spotted wings). He called them, saying, “Brethren, come down I wish to speak to you.” “No, we know what you are, we don’t wish to be fooled by you.” He finally persuaded them to fly down and listen to him. Then he begged them to knock the rock asunder. “If you do this for me, I will paint a white mark on your wings.” The birds agreed to do as he asked. 1 hey flew high up into the air, then came down again, and striking the rock, bioke it apart. The birds said, “If you do not fulfil your promise, we will never free you again.” Hkto^m1 took some white earth and marked their wings with it. Then they flew away.

Inkton/mi looked around for some remains of the ducks, but could not find any. Coyote appeared in the distance, and cried, “I got the bucket for you. You think you can fool anyone, but I have fooled you. On your way you will be fooled again.” “No,” said Inkton/mi, “nothing will fool me again.”

He walked on, recollecting Turtle’s warning. For three days he ab¬ stained from water, though he was dying of thirst. On the fourth day he could no longer restrain himself. He saw an owl sitting on a hill. “ Brother, I am dying for water, I don’t like to drink the ordinary water, make rain for me.” The Owl caused rain to fall. Hkto^nT went on, considering where to drink. He reached a water-hole with clear water, looked down, but decided not to drink. He found w'ater on a big rock, looked at it, was going to drink, but refrained, saying, “I have stuck fast to a rock like this one.” He got to another water-hole with reeds rising from the surface. He looked at it for a while; unable to resist he stooped down, but before touching the water with his lips, he drew back again. At last, he pushed the reeds aside and began to drink, but a large turtle seized his lips. “Brother,” said Inkton'ml, “let me go, I want to drink; we can play after¬ wards.” “No,” said Turtle, “I’ll hold on for four days.” Hkto^m1 said, “There are very few animals that get the better of me, I’ll get rid of you somehow.” He picked up the Turtle and walked on. When tired, he lay down. He did this repeatedly. He was looking for some trees. Seeing some in the distance, he walked toward them. He sat down, took off his pouch, filled his big pipe, and began to smoke. While he was smoking, Turtle got uncomfortable on account of the heat of the pipe, and moved to one side. Inkton,ml noticed it and thought, “The Turtle must be afraid of fire.” So he moved his pipe near Turtle’s anus. Turtle continued to edge away, saying, “You had better stop smoking, let us go on.” But Hkto^nff refused, and continued puffing hard. Suddenly he almost pushed his pipe into Turtle’s anus, and the Turtle released him. nkto^nff turned him on his back, and rolled a big rock on top of him. He picked up wood and built a

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fire. The Turtle begged to be freed, and offered to help him. Inkton/mi refused. lie took the rock away, but he held the Turtle’s anus against the fire. The Turtle was in agony. Inkton'm' said, “I shall continue doing this for four days, then 1 will let you go.” He took him up, and burnt him slightly. Then he said, ‘‘If you are willing to do something, I shall release you.” “What is it?” “There will be people in this world. If you promise never to bite any of them as you have bitten me, I will let you go.” The Turtle promised never to bite anyone, even if trodden on. Four times he had to promise, then I'TtoH'm1 released him. Turtle made for the water, fol¬ lowed by Inkton/m1. He dived in without saying anything. “It is well,” said Inkton,m1, “he is not abusing me.” Since then the turtles have not bitten anybody.

Lktu'mni had killed many geese and was cooking them. He was per¬ spiring from the heat of the fire, when Fox came along. Fox knew that TTtu'mni was a trickster. He pretended to be lame. “Come here,” said Inktu'mni. Fox said, “I can’t walk much, talk to me here.” At last he came closer. Inktu'mni said, “Let us run a race for those geese.” Fox said, “I can’t run at all.” Then Inktu'mni proposed to tie a big stone to his foot, and Fox consented to run. Fox limped along at first, but when he got to the other side of the hill, he ran as swiftly as a bird, returned to the goal, and ate up the geese. After a long while Lktuhnni returned, not knowing that Fox had beaten him. He removed the grass cover he had left on the food, but found nothing but bones. He was very angry and began to revile Fox. Fox, who had been watching him, just laughed and walked away. Inktu'- mni went to a big lake, where he saw Fox sleeping on the other bank. He built a big fire to kill him. Fox woke up and said, “Put out that fire.” “You ate all my geese, I am going to burn you up right here.” When the fire approached Fox, he jumped over the flames and escaped, laughing at Inktu'mni.

18.1

Once Lktu'mni found a great number of eggs, which he cooked. He decided to sleep before eating them, so he piled the eggs up in a heap, lay down with his buttocks towards them, and said to his buttocks, “Watch the eggs and wake me up if anyone comes near them.” He fell asleep. A man came. The buttocks saw him, but he beckoned to them not to give warning. He ate up all the eggs, leaving the shells in a heap. Then he said, “ I am

1 Cf. Russell, p. 213 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 26 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 60 (Arapaho); Hoffman, p. 163 (Menomini).

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going to the other side of the hill. You can wake him up when I get there.” The man watched from the hill. Then the buttocks awoke Inktu'mni, saying, “ Someone has come.' Inkturmni could not see anyone. lie picked up one egg and saw it had been broken. Someone must ha^e eaten this egg.” When he found that all the eggs were gone, he was furious. “I’ll get even with you,” he said to the buttocks. He piled up wood, and built a big fire. Straddling it, he tried to burn his buttocks by way of punish¬ ment. He burnt them to grease. Then he walked away. He thought he was going in a straight line, but as he was walking in a circle, he returned to the starting point. He mistook his own track for someone else s. When he saw his burnt-up buttocks, he took them for dry meat and began to eat them. When only a small piece was left, he suddenly discovered that he had been eating his own buttocks. He tried to vomit, but could not get them out.

Sitcon/ski was traveling. He saw a female marten sleeping so as to ex¬ pose her genitals. Sitcon'ski touched her, saying, “My grandmother is dead, this is a mark made by a stick.” The marten awoke. “My grandson, what are you doing there ?” “ I thought you were dead.” He walked on. After

a while, he smelt his hand. “Its smell is like that of genitals.” He saw a lynx sleeping. He was about to gratify his lust, but the lynx woke up and seized him. Sitcon,ski begged to be released, and was allowed to go. He saw a weasel and some mice fighting. He laughed. One mouse said to him, “Tell them to stop fighting.” They agreed to stop, if they received some berries.

20. 1

Siteon/ski walked on. He heard dancing and drumming. Walking in the direction of the noise, he found a buffalo skull. In it there were some dancing mice. “Let me come in, brethren.” “You can’t come in.” Sitcon'ski put his head in and watched for a while, then he got drowsy and fell asleep. The mice went away. When he awoke he could not extricate his head. He stood up with the skull and called for aid. He could not see at all, and, walking ahead, he fell into a river. He stayed there for two days, at last he got the skull off.

SitcoYski heard the sound of dancing and drumming. He looked for

1 Follows 19. Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 32. (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 68 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 107 (Arapaho); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 137 (Ankara).

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the dancers, but could not find any. At last he found a buffalo skull. Inside there were little mice, which were dancing. Siteon'ski said, “ I should like to get in, you look well.’ “You can’t get in, the door is too small.” Sitcon'ski stuck his head in to see the dance. lie got drowsy, and fell asleep, lhe mice chewed up his hair, ran away, and left him with his head stuck in the skull. A hen Sitcon/ski awoke, he saw no one around. He could not draw out his head. He heard the sound of a river gliding by, and with a stick he groped his way towards it. He reached a gully, and broke the skull against some rocks. He found that he was quite bald, for the mice had chewed up all his hair. He was very angry and called them bad names.

22. 1

Sitcon,ski walked away. He met birds playing with their eyes, throwing them on a tree and making them come back again. Sitcon'ski said, “Let me try this, my brethren.” “Your eyes are too strong, it will not be good for you.” Sitcon'ski insisted. Then the birds told him to pull out his eyes. He threw them up, and they remained hanging on the tree. “Shake the tree, and they will fall back in their places.” He shook the tree, and the eyes returned to their sockets. “You must throw both at the same time now.” He obeyed. Then his eyes did not return. He could not find them. He looked for some pitch. Finding some, he rubbed it between his palms and made new eyes.

23.2

Inkton'm1 was walking through a forest. He heard someone yelling ahead of him. As he approached, he found four boys playing around a pine. Unobserved, he stole up close to them and watched their game. One took out his right eye and threw it up a tree. It bounced back from branch to branch, and returned to its socket. Then the player did the same with his other eye. All four took turns at the game. Inkton'm1 walked up to them. They asked him what he had come for. Ukto'On1 answered, “I heard you playing, and I wished to see what kind of a game you were playing.” They showed him the game once more, yelling whenever an eye came down. IHdxWm1 said, “I wish to join you.” “We’ll let you play. Stand close to the tree, throw up your right eye, and just look at it as it descends.” He obeyed, and his eye returned to its socket. Then he threw his left eye up and it came down less rapidly, being arrested on the branches; finally, how-

1 Follows 20, was followed by a version of 9, after which the narrator told 25.

Cf. Teit, p. 632 (Shuswap); Russell, p. 215 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 29 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Kroeber, (d), p. 168 (Cheyenne).

2 Ft. Belknap.

118 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [1 ol. I\ ,

ever, it fell back to its place. “Let me try again.” He did the same thing a second time. They said they would give him the power to do the trick, but he must not do it often. “No,” said he, “I’ll just do it once more. And he did. After again warning him, the boys said, “Brother, we will show you something else.” Inkton'mi said he would be glad to learn. One of the four boys sat down, and with a knife cut off his feet and began to whittle his legs to a point. Then he jumped into the brush, calling the antelope by name. In the meantime, the other three boys covered up his feet with a robe. They went into the brush and found a dead antelope with a stick through it. Sharpened-leg’s body was in the animal. He returned to life again, and one of his comrades went through the same procedure, calling an elk. They found, and feasted on, a big male elk. IHcto^m1 was looking at the third boy, who did the same as his companions, calling a bear. The fourth boy jumped into the brush after sharpening his legs and calling an unpa' (?), and the others found a dead unpa'. The boys told Inkton'm1 they would give him the power to perform the same trick whenever he was

hungry, but it would always be necessary for someone else to be present. Once more they warned him against too often throwing his eyes. He thanked them and left.

As soon as he was some distance from them, Inkton,m1 went to a pine tree, cleared the ground around it, put down his blanket, took out one eye, and threw it up. It remained there. The boys had told him to cast the second eye up in such a case. Inkton/m* did so, and both eyes returned. He tried again. The first eye remained on the tree. When he threw the other eye up, it did not come down either, Inkton'ml was suffering; his sockets were dry. One boy heard him. “That Inkton'm‘ must have done something wrong, let us help him.” They found him crying. He said his eyes were lodged in the tree. “How many times did you throw them up?” “Once.” “You lie.” Nevertheless, one of them threw one of his eyes up, and both Inkton/mi’s returned to their sockets. Then they took away the eye-juggler’s power from him. He still tried the trick, but could not per¬ form it.

Inkton/m* thought he had better try the other trick. He sharpened his knife, whittled off his feet, covered them with his robe and sharpened his legs, although there was no one present. He named the antelope, and leapt into the brush. He found an antelope, came to life again, and ate the meat. He thought he would try again, named the bear, and jumped in, but was caught in a tree. No bear came, and he began to cry. The four boys, who had thought he might get killed, had been tracking him. They found him hanging. “You have done wrong, we’ll take your power away.

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If you whittle your leg again, you will merely have a pointed leg.” Ink- ton'mi got frightened and never tried the trick again.1

24.2

Sitcon/ski was walking by a creek. He saw a beaver sleeping near her dam on the opposite side. Vulva conspecta cum ea coire voluit. Avem ! hoc modo allocutus est: “Mentulam meam in mulieris vaginam insere.” ! Avis mentulam in umbilieum inseruit. “Altius quam decet inseris, inferius ( inserere oportet.” Tunc infra cunnum inseruit. “Altius inserere oportet. ’

' Avis iterum in umbilieum inseruit. The beaver woke up and dived into the water. Sicton'ski said, “Why did n’t you sleep a little longer ? ” He was very angry.

A mink traveling in the water espied a she-beaver lying on her back. Conspecto cunno cum ea coire concupivit. Mentulam in vaginam inseruit. Iterum coiit. Coitu completo castor sub aquam rediit. The mink walked off, sed femina iterum conspecta, iterum cum ea coiit. Sitcon'ski was pass¬ ing by the river. He saw the mink in the water with the beaver. “ Mentula insere” ait “ in castoris cunnum.” (There follows a version of 24.)

26.3

Sitcon'ski, being angry at Beaver, opened her house and eased himself 1 there. He took away the two young beavers. Beaver was very angry ( when she found out. A hen Sitconski went to a creek, Beaver got into the water. Siteonski was afraid to drink, although he was very thirsty.4 He perished from thirst. After a while a bird came and defecated on his head. Then Magpie came and said, “My brother, what is the matter, why are you lying down here? Wake up!” Sitconski awoke. “I have slept a long time,” he said.

In the fall Sitconski offered to stay with Beaver. Beaver said, “It is pretty hard to stay with me in the winter, when the ice is thick.” Never-

i The Sharpened-Leg motive is here combined with the idea of the trickster’s unsuccessful imitation of beings endowed with magical power. In other combinations it is very common

Kroeber, (.), p. (Gro, Ventre); Dorsey

and Kroeber, p. 63 (Arapaho).

3 Follows 24.

4 Cf. Simms, p. 287, (Crow).

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theless, Sitcon'ski insisted on staying. In the spring Beaver made a hole in the ice and came out. Once when he was gone for some willows, Sitcon'ski stole the young beaver and ran away. On his return Beaver found his son gone. “I’ll punish you when I catch you,” said he. He looked for Sitcom- ski, until at last he found him roasting and eating the young beaver. When through eating, Sitcon/ski went for a drink. He lay down by the water, but Beaver was in there, and with his mouth approached Sitcon'ski’s, who fell back in a fright. He tried to get a drink in several spots, but every¬ where Beaver frightened him off. He went far off and stooped down, but this time Beaver nearly bit him. Then shutting his eyes, he took a drink. Beaver caught his lips and would not let them go. He bit Sitcon'ski all over his face. Sitcon/ski howled with pain.

28.1

Siteon,ski was passing some big trees. Between two of them there was a large rock. Sitcon/ski said, “Move away, I wish to pass here.” The rock refused. Again Sitcon'ski asked it to move, and again it refused. Sitcon'ski said, “I’ll sit down here. Whichever of us two gets up first, shall be killed.’ The rock said, “I can sit here for a long time, I am cov¬ ered with moss.” Siteon'ski waited several days for the rock to move. On the sixth day he began to abuse the rock. Then he arose and walked away. The rock pursued him. Sitcon/ski climbed a steep hill, the rock rolled up after him. He forded a river, but the rock still followed. He tried to cover his tracks, but the rock always found them. At last he climbed a high tree. The rock at first went by, but returned and split the tree in two. Sitcon'ski tumbled down, and the rock rolled over him and held him fast. Sitcon'ski begged to be released, but in vain. He was beginning to starve. He cried aloud, “This rock wants to kill you,” but no one heard him. At last he heard the noise of thunder. He cried, “Thunder, this lock wants to kill you too.’ Thunder heard him and split the rock into pieces.

Sitcon'ski desired to marry a pretty girl. Her father said, “You may marry her, but don’t embrace her for four nights.” On the first night Sitcon'ski obeyed willingly. The second night he desired to embrace her.

i In another Stoney version, Sitco-'ski promises the rock his blanket, provided he shoots a moose He lulls the moose and gives up the robe, but cannot sleep from cold. AccordfnX he takes the robe away from the rock, which pursues and holds him until smitten bv the Thunder’ The story ends with the statement: “Sitcon'ski is alive now, though he is old His face to young, but his hair is gray.” Xlis Iace

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Tertia nocte coire conatus est. The girl disappeared, mentula glaeiei haesit. Sitcon/ski went to his father-in-law, but the old man said, “Go away, you have disobeyed.” Sitcon/ski went home. lie saw a woman’s tracks and followed them. After a while he met a buffalo-cow, which ran away to her camp. Siteon‘ski pursued her, and the buffalo chief ordered her to stay with Sitcon'ski. One day the Indians made a pound. They caught buffalo, and Sitcon'ski among them. They released him, but the next time he was caught they killed him with the animals.

Sitcon/ski had a beaver-skin coat. One day he was trapping animals. Suddenly he became frightened. He returned from his traps, and found two young wolverenes in his tent. He said, “I don t like to see you, you are thieves. Go home, or I ’ll kill you.” He took his coat and went to a deadfall. Walking on snowshoes, he reversed the points in order to mis¬ lead the wolverenes. He went into a thick wood, and hung his coat up on a tree. After a while he returned, and saw wolverene tracks. His coat was gone. He pursued the wolverenes, but his moccasins were worn out and he was obliged to go home for new ones. He was very angry and did not sleep all night. In the morning he pursued the wolverenes. They had climbed a steep, woody slope and fallen asleep there. Siteon'ski saw his coat and thought of recovering it while the wolverenes were asleep. He approached on snowshoes, but was caught among the gnarled roots and could not free himself. The wolverenes awoke and fled with the stolen coat. As soon as Sitcon'ski could get away, he pursued them, but broke his shoes in the forest. He was completely exhausted. He built a fire. He could hear the wolverenes singing and beating time with their bows. He had to return home with frozen feet. All winter he was furious. In the spring he again thought of catching the thieves. He went to their camp, where he found two girls at play. “Where do the wolverenes live that stole my coat?” The girls pointed out their lodge. He approached, but a woman in the lodge espied him and warned those inside. Sitcon'ski stood at the door, seized one of the wolverenes, and burnt up all his hair in the fire. “This is what you get for stealing my coat,” he said.

31.1

Sitcon'ski was standing by a river and saw a bear on the opposite bank. “Come, chase me!” he cried. The bear swam across. Sitcon'ski made

i Russell, p. 209 (Cree); Wissler and Duvall, p. 32 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 277 (Shoshone).

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a bow and arrows, but they were of bad wood. He shot his arrows at the bear, but they all broke to pieces. Sitcon/ski ran away when the bear emerged from the water. The bear nearly caught him. Sitcon'ski ran around the stump of a tree. He found an old buffalo skull lying there covered with moss. When completely exhausted, he kicked the skull up from the ground, put it on his head, and faced about as if to hook the bear with the horns. The bear turned around and fled. Sitcon'ski wiped the perspiration from his face. “I thought you wished to fight. What are you running away for?”

\

Sitcon/ski had mosquitoes all over his face. He erected a lodge, still they stayed in his nose. He tried to remove them with a stick, but they remained inside. They also attacked his eyes. He tried to fan them off, he made smudge, still they would not go away. At last he ran into the brush (?). There they did not follow him. That is how he got rid of them.

Sitcon'ski used to walk along the bank of a river. He saw a buffalo skull lying there. Whenever he passed it, he kicked it into the water, but he invariably found it in exactly the same position the next time. He wished to find out the reason. Once he burnt the skull and pounded it into powder, which he threw away, but the next time he again found the head in the old place. This is queer,” he thought. He burnt it up again, and lay down to sleep a short distance from the remains. He heard some¬ thing like a buffalo’s footsteps. Looking about, he could not see anything. He went to sleep once more; again he heard the noise, but could not see anything on looking up. “I must be mad, I’ll sleep and won’t open my eyes until it is near-by. ’ When the noise approached, he looked up, but saw nothing. The fourth time he heard the sound he said, “I won’t look anj- more. He did not look, at last he heard snorting and felt something puffing in his face. Looking up, there was an old buffalo preparing to hook him. Siteon/ski fled, pursued by the buffalo, which nearly caught him. Sitco'Lski cried for help. He saw a hard rock and ran towards it. It had a crack, which admitted him and then closed up. The buffalo be¬ gan to lick the rock with his tongue until it was worn down to a small size. Then Sitcon'ski fled to a stump and sought shelter in its hollow. The buffalo hooked the tree and split it apart. Sitcon'ski fled; once the tip of the buffalo’s horns just caught him and he yelled. He asked a willow to

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help him, twisted its trunk into a swing and swung back and forth, avoid¬ ing the buffalo’s horns. Then the buffalo twisted the willow until it broke. Sitcon'ski cried, “Let me go, brother!” and again ran away. He came to a big lake and plunged in. The buffalo began to lap it up until Sitco" ski was left high and dry on the mud. He could not run, but only crawled on his hands and feet. The buffalo pursued him. Sitcon'ski said, “I 11 give vou tobacco, let me go. “Lou kicked my skull every time you passed, hurry up and get me tobacco. 1 What sort ot tobacco would you like to have?” The buffalo told him, then SitcoWski cut some willow-bark, made tobacco, and gave it to the buffalo, who lit it by holding it tow aids the sun. Then he let Sitcon'ski alone.

34.1

Lepori Inktu'mni, “Qui nostrum” ait “primus dormiet, cum illo alter coeat.” Rabbit agreed. Inkturmni fell asleep first. Quo conspecto Lepus cum eo dormiente copula vit, then he went away. When Inktu mni awoke, he felt a pain. He said, “Where is that Rabbit? He has hurt me.” He walked along. Paullo post cacavit; ex ano lepus parvus exsiluit. Rerum cacavit, lepus alius exsiluit, quern prehendere non potuit. Tunc toga anum texit ut leporem qui proxime exiret prehenderet. Sed nihil aliud ac excre- menta fecit, quae togam inquinaverunt.

Four Cree went to visit Siteon'ski by the sea.2 * After they had traveled a while, they heard the beating of a drum. “We ’ll get there by to-morrow,” they said. They expected to reach the place in the morning, but they were mistaken. The next night they again heard drumming and singing, ap¬ parently at a very short distance. They expected to reach Sitcon'ski the next day, but again failed to do so. The third night, the same experience was repeated. At last, on the fourth evening, they arrived at Sitcon'ski’s. “What are you traveling about for?” SitcoWski asked them. One ( ree answered, “ I should like to live forever.” ' The second man said, “I should like to marry your daughter.” The remaining two asked for medicine. Sitcon'ski asked, “How many days will you stay in my house?” They said they would stay four clays. SitcoWski made smoke, put it on his hands, seized the first Cree, rubbed him, and turned him into a stone. To

o.

i Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 67 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 65 (Arapaho); J

D0I'S2 JAfttr his departure from the Indians, Sitcon'ski is believed to have taken up his abode on

an island, where he is still living.

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the second Cree Sitcon/ski gave his daughter, warning him not to touch her for four days. For two nights the man obeyed, but on the third night he approached her. She disappeared, returning to her father.1 The two other Cree received many medicines and roots; this is how the Cree Indians got their medicines. On leaving, the visitors thought they had only stayed four days, but they had tarried four years.2

This is the last that was ever heard of Sitcon'ski. 3

Some Indians saw Sitcon'ski digging for roots. One asked him, “What are you digging for?’ “I am looking for every kind of medicine.” One of the Indians asked for some medicine. Sitcon/ski rubbed him between his hands, transforming him into a stone. To the other Indians he gave medicines. That is how the Indians obtained their roots.

After some time four other Stonevs visited Sitcon/ski. They arrived at his house and noticed some logs lying near-by. One of them said, “Those logs must be Siteon/ski.” The Indians examined Sitcon,ski’s drum and his paint, lhey had nothing to eat and were beginning to starve. Sitcon'ski told his tv o sisters to get some Saskatoon berries for his visitors. Each of the women had a son. Before leaving, they made swings for the children, then they went berrying. While they were gone, Sitcon'ski killed the boys! eoieied theii faces with fat, and departed. W hen the women returned, one of them cried, “Look sister, our boys are dead, our brother must have killed them.” Sitcon/ski had made a hole in the ground, and his head was peep¬ ing out. 1 he v omen pursued him. He made a tunnel underground and came out by another opening. When his sisters were inside, Sitcon'ski covered up the hole and suffocated them with smoke. He sent the four Indians home.4

37.5 *

Sitcon ski was living with his wife and two grown-up daughters.

Con-

\ SI’ P/. 12°’ Wh6re Sitcon'skl himself ^ the disobedient son-in-law.

n 1251 ec7aLye^h ** ^ Monta^nais mythology (Jesuit Relations, 1636, Vol 9

(Tox) ' Schoolcraft, p. 285 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 206 (Menomini); Jones p. 333

3 in another version, the visitors are Ojibwa. Sitcon'ski pretends to be dead but finullv

medicines': far trapping<bSver,\yrix ^ ^ "*** be“

p. 70 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber p m ^ (AranahoV ’ T n n Kr°eber’ (e)’

p. 82 (Arapaho), Lowie, p. 248 (Shoshone). ’ (Gl0S ^entre): Dorsey and Kroeber,

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spectis filiarum vulvis, majore frui voluit quod major esset ei vulva. He said to his wife, “I am sick. When I die, bury me in the trees. Don’t stay near the grave, but look for people. If you see a handsome young man, give him our daughter in marriage.” He feigned being dead. He was buried in accordance with his directions. 1 he first day after his burial his wife went to visit him and found the corpse in the right place, but on the following day it was gone. Sitcon'ski, however, had told Coyote to pretend having eaten the corpse. So Coyote told Sitcon/ski’s wife, and she believed it. After a while, Sitcon'ski came to the camp, dressed as a young man. The mother said to her older daughter, “You heard what your father said, call the youth inside.” They brought him in, but the younger girl said, “That man is my father.” The old woman answered, “Your father died long ago.” After three or four nights, however, she discovered that it was reallv her husband. Then she seized a club and was going to beat him, but Sitcon/ski ran off laughing.

38. 1

Sitcon'ski was traveling along, dressed in his daughter’s clothing. He met people at a camp, and among them there was a youth unknown to women. Sitcon'ski desired to marry him, and they lived together. After some time Sitcon'ski pretended to be pregnant. In reality he had caught a fox and was hiding it under his clothes. He told his husband, I am going to give birth to a child. Don’t look, go outside.” He took out the fox and forbade his husband to look at their child for four days. The young man was eager to see his son, but Sitcon'ski always carried him about. One day he forgot to do so and left the baby in the lodge. The husband entered and found that it was only a fox. He hurled it against a lodge pole. The fox then ran off. The young man was furious, but Sitcon'ski made his escape. Turning around to his husband s sister, mentulam suam demonstravit.

Sitcon'ski once met an old woman and married her. After a wlnle he bade her make moccasins, as he wanted to travel. She offered to accompany • him, but he said she could not walk fast enough. He set out. After a wdiile he got to a camp. He told them his wife had been unable to gi\e him a blanket, so the people gave him one. He traveled on, and reached another camp. He said, “My wife says she can’t get herself a dress.” They gave him a dress. In the same way he obtained leggings. He traveled on.

1 Cf. Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 97 (Arapaho); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 266 (Pawnee).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Before getting to the next camp, he put on the woman’s dress and approached a girl, who was chopping wood. “My sister-in-law, you are cutting wood here?” “Yes.” “I hear your brother is unknown to women, I have come here to marry him.” The two went home together. The girl called her father. “I have brought a wife for my brother.” “Bring her in.” The young man did not like women. He was away hunting at the time. Sit- con,ski sat down on his bed. When the youth returned and saw a woman on his bed, he refused to go in, but at last entered. “What kind of a woman is this?” “We found her when we were cutting wood.” So he married Sitcon'ski.

After a while Sitcon'ski pretended to be pregnant. His sisters-in-law then asked him not to work too much lest he injure the child. He replied, “If a pregnant woman works hard, she will have an easy delivery.” Once when he was cutting wood, he saw a little fox. He caught it and kept it, bidding it cry like a little baby. He plucked off its hair and rolled it up in his dress. When they had got near home, the fox began to cry. The old man was glad to have a grandchild. “Give me my grandchild.” Sitcom- ski said, “No, I have not washed it yet.” He took it to his own lodge. “Wash him quickly, I want to see my grandchild.” “Wait awhile, then I 11 wash him. He cooked meat first. The young man came home. His mother said, “My daughter-in-law has given birth to a child. We told her to wash it immediately, but she has not done so.’ The young man asked, Why don t you wash him t “Wait awhile.” “When are you going to v ash him ? Y\ hen a woman gives birth to a child, she does not wash it on the same day, but on the following day.” The next morning the old woman prepared warm water and bade her son bring the child. Sitcon'ski refused to hand it to him. At last he caught it, Sitcon'ski pulling in the opposite direction. The fox jumped out and ran away, pursued by Sitcom- ski. The old people were angry. Sitcon'ski began to laugh. “No woman has ever known you, that is why I deceived you.” He called his sister-in- law et mentulam longam suam monstravit.

He escaped. He met a deer. “What are you hunting for, jumping- deer?” “I am just looking around.” “I have been traveling a long time, said Sitcon ski, I have never been back home since I started out, I’ll go there now.” He returned to his old wife. “I have been away a long time, he said to her; “the people gave me a young wife, that’s why I have not got home sooner.”

Sitcon/ski was traveling along. He got to a patch of red berries.1 “What i In one version, their name was given as Waj>'kta, forwhieh no translation could be secured.

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127

is your name?” “Just Berries.” “Everything has two names.” The berries said they were also called Scratch-Rump. Siteon'ski began to eat, calling the berries by their name. When satisfied, he departed. Alter a little while he eased himself, and had to scratch his buttocks. After some time the blood began to flow. He had to scratch himself continually. Sit- con'ski got angry, he wished to put a stop to it. He built a big fire, and laid large flat rocks on it, until they were red-hot. 1 hen he sat down on them in order to burn up his buttocks. He burnt them all up. 1 lien he went away, but was hardly able to walk. C oming back by the same road, he saw a large piece of his burnt skin. He walked to some trees and put his skin on them, that is why there is gum on them now.1

Sitcon'ski saw a white root. He asked, “What is your name?” “Edi¬ ble Root.” “You’re my brother, what is your second name?” “I haven’t any.” “Everything has two names.” “I have only one.” “You must have two.” At last the root said, “My second name is Wind.” Siteon'ski dug it up, and called it by this name. He ate many of the roots. After a while he began to break wind. “I should like to break more, this is great fun.” Then he was carried several feet into the air. He continued break¬ ing wind, and rose higher each time. “My brother, I wish to break a little more wind, this is great fun.” Finally he got frightened as he rose higher and higher. He tried to catch hold of some willows, but merely broke off their branches. Then he fell down, descending a foot into the ground. He rose still higher with the next wind, and tried to cling to some lofty trees, but merely broke them off. He wished he would fall on soft ground and fell into a mudhole, head foremost, so that only his feet extended above ground. His mouth and nose were filled with mud. Finally he got out.

He traveled on, and found many snakes. “I have found plenty of whips,” he cried. The snakes coiled around his legs, arms, and neck. He used one snake as a whip, breaking off its head. He used all the snakes in this way. Thus he killed four hundred of them.

Sitcon,ski got to a large lake and saw some plants growing in the water. He asked them, “What is your name?” “Reed (?).” “Everything has

i Cf. Kroeber, (e)7p^ 69 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 6° (Arapaho); Ibi<L, fi0 (ChevenneV Simms, p. 287 (Crow); Jones, p. 273 (Fox); G. A. Doisey, (d), p. hrSJS? iZ W, P m SWw„ee>: «. CO, P. (Wichita). Al» ha.rh hy the w»«r among the Cree.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

two names.” “My second name is Big Wind.” Sitcon/ski picked the plants, called them by their second name, and began eating them. Alter a while the reeds said, “Don’t eat any more; that’s enough for you, the rest is for other people.” He continued to eat, then he walked on. He began to break wind. He rose a short distance into the air. “I like to break wind.” He broke wind again, and rose a little higher. He saw an old woman on the road. When he came down, he said, “Some people want to kill us two,” then he packed her on his back, and ran away. Again he broke wind, and rose high in the air. Then he turned her loose. Both descended to the ground, and the old woman was killed. The reed said to Sitcon'ski, “You had better stop that.” He broke wind again, and tried to remain near the ground by clinging to a rock, but the rock split, and he ascended once more. The next time he tried to catch hold of a pine, but the tree ascended with him. He fell down, head over heels, and stuck in the ground up to his hips. That is how he stopped breaking wind.

Sitcon'ski asked Skunk for some of his filth so that he, too, might kill people. He gave him his wife in exchange, then he returned to camp, that night he did not sleep. The next morning he tried the filth on the stump of a tree. He used up all of it in splitting the trunk, instead of kill¬ ing his enemies with it. Sitcon'ski then tried to steal Skunk’s wife. With his teeth he seized the woman’s buttocks. She eased herself, and Sitcon'ski was killed by the faeces. He woke up again, stole some skunk filth, and walked to a big tree, which he split, saying, “If I see a man, I am going to do the same thing to him.” A passer-by overheard him, and asked, “What are you saying?” Sitcon'ski thought he still had plenty of the filth left, but he had consumed it all on the tree. When he discovered this, he became scared and ran away. The man pursued him, crying, “Don’t run away, pile up wood for me.” Sitcon'ski stood still, and helped him pding up wood. The man built a fire. Sitcon'ski was kneeling down by die fire, and the man was behind him. Sitcon'ski caught sight of a weasel. “Come here,” he called out to him, “and I’ll make you look handsome ” When the Weasel was near him, he said, “Crawl into this man’s rectum and eat up his heart.” The Weasel entered the man’s body and began to eat his heart. The man said, “Something is wrong with my heart. Hurry up, build the fire.” Sitcon'ski was very slow about it. The man walked towards him, and Sitcon'ski ran away as fast as he could, yelling. The man pursued him, and nearly caught hold of his clothes. Suddenly he fell dead. Sitcon'ski was glad. He went back to the corpse. The Weasel

1909.]

Loti'ie, The Assiniboine.

129

came out. Sitcon/ski washed him with snow, that is why weasels are white.1 2 Sitcon,ski burnt up the corpse; it took him four days. He put into the fire what was left of the man’s heart, but it did not burn up, it was like ice.

44. 2

Inkton/mi was living with the Indians. He went to a hilltop, and cried out, “Let everyone get ready for the buffalo hunt!” All got their horses ready. Some buffalo were coming across the hills. The Indians made a rush and killed them. Inkton,mi went about, , teaching the people how to skin buffalo. They had no knives, so he picked up a bone and made a knife. Then he showed them how to cut off the legs and ribs, how to clean the entrails, and told them what parts should be eaten uncooked. He broke a leg bone, and showed them the marrow. After the entrails had been removed, Dkto^m1 told a man to take the paunch with the liver and kidneys, wash them in the river and eat them raw. Then he asked him whether he liked the food. “From now on your people will subsist on such food. The buffalo will live as long as your people. There will be no end of them until the end of time. You will have a son who will chase buffalo | and provide meat for you until you are gray-headed and ready to die.”

45.3

Ten women were living together in a lodge. One day Inkton'mi got there and went in. “Sisters, I have come to save you. If you don’t obey me, you will all get sick and die.” They begged him to save them. “To¬ morrow you will see something over the hill. As it approaches, slit open the lodge-cover wherever you may be sitting. Cunnos monstrate, quibus adspectis, Morbus abibit. That is the only way you can be saved. I am traveling myself to escape the Disease.” Inkton/mL ran in the direction he had indicated, cut branches, and dried the leaves on them during the night. The next morning he rubbed himself all over with white clay and disguised himself by putting the leaves on, his head. Using the limb of a tree for a cane, he approached the lodge. The women said, “The Disease j is coming.” Then they did as Dkto^m1 had bidden them. Inkton/mi laid down his cane. Cum eis invicem coiit. The youngest was the last one he got to. He picked up his stick and departed. The women said, “The Disease is going away.” The youngest woman said, “I like the Disease,

1 Cf. Russell, p. 212 (Cree).

2 Ft. Belknap.

3 Ft. Belknap.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

I’ll call him back.” And she called after him, “Disease, I wish you would come back again.” But Inkton’m‘ had had enough of them and would not come back.

46.1

I"kton,mi was living in the forest. He made a lot of songs, packed them on his back, and set out traveling. After a few days, the load got so heavy, that lie could only walk very slowly. He set the songs down, and considered what to do next. At last he decided to call the birds and beasts. He called the buffalo, the peha’ri'1 (crane?), ixa’tata'n (a dark bird), the crow, the cock, the fox, the wolf, the horse, the owl, and the coyote. He told them he was going to divide his songs among them. The buffalo received the first song and the powers that went with it; he was told that people would dream of him, and get the appropriate song, dance, and costume from him. The peha’ri11, ixa’tata'n, crow and cock received corresponding instructions. The cock was given the grass-dance, the por¬ cupine headdress representing his crest. The other animals each received his own ceremony. Then InktoI1’mi bade them separate. “Wherever people live, appear to them in their dreams and give them your dances.” They separated, each bearing his song; they spread over the whole world. The songs kept by Inkton’mi himself were those relating to the women’s dance and the medicine men’s practices.

Inkton’ili' went to the sky, and told its inhabitants to keep it open, so that people could get there without difficulty. “No one shall come down again,” said Inkton/m‘.

Inkton/m‘ was going along a buffalo trail. He followed a creek, and found a young calf that had been trampled in the mire by the other buffaloes. It could not get out of the wallow. InktoI1’mi stripped, washed off the mud, and extricated the calf. Then said he, “Younger brother, let us travel. \ou are able to walk now.” They traveled for two or three days. One day Dkto11’]!!1 asked, “Do you think you can locate people in the direction we are now traveling?” “Yes, we’ll soon meet people by a big lake. Before we get there, I ’ll make myself grow. I did not think I would get out, but now I am glad. I have strayed from my mother, and she must be seeking me now.” Dkto^nV took the lead, and the calf followed. The calf rolled over several times, and stood up a little larger than before. They continued on their way, the calf leading. After a while, it again asked Inkton’m' to go ahead, and repeated the same proceedings. When it rose

1 I't. Belknap.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

131

again, it was as big as a two-year-old. “You look like a buffalo now,” said Inkton'm1. “Yes, by the time we arrive, I’ll be one of the biggest buffaloes.” They went on. After a while, the calf again asked Inkton,mi to walk ahead. It rolled over, and again stood up bigger than before. “How do I look now? “You look like a big buffalo now.” The calf told him that they would soon reach a big camp, and the painted lodge would be the buffalo-chief’s residence. “Brother,” it said, “you had better roll over in the same way as myself.” LktoYn1 obeyed, rose, and was transformed into a two-year-old buffalo. He was surprised. “We must roll over once more,” said the calf, “then we ’ll go to the camp.” So they rolled again, and the calf stood up a very large buffalo, while Inkton'ml also sot to be of a good size. They went closer and hid in a coulee until dark. When it was dark, the calf said, “I ’ll steal a woman from the camp; wait for me here.” The calf went, and soon returned with a white cow. “Now brother, do you go, but don’t go near the painted lodge. Its owner is powerful, he will know if you get close.” Inktoa,m1 went, thinking, “I wonder what would happen if I went there.” So he went to the painted lodge and near it found a spotted cow, the chief’s wife. She asked him

when he had arrived at the camp. “I have just come a little while ago

with a band of people. Do you want to see them?” Her husband was away, so she agreed to go with him. They got to where the calf was stand¬ ing with his mate. They all decided to run off. The calf led, and they fled for four nights, when they arrived at a wood. There LktoYn1 said, “Let us rest here, they can’t catch up.” The calf said, “They may be

near us. Look towards the sunset, if you see dust ascending, it will be

from the buffalo.” He looked and saw the dust approaching like a prairie fire. The buffalo chief’s horns were of iron. He ran up over the hills, followed by his herd. He despatched a messenger to the fugitives. “To¬ morrow at noon you will have to fight those two buffaloes, whose wives you have stolen.” At noon the calf got ready to fight. The two enemies ap¬ proached each other slowly, and began to butt. LktoYn1 thought, “I have raised this calf, and I ’ll help him.” The calf said, “Step back, don’t help me.” But Inkton'm' hooked the bull and threw him up into the air again and again, until all his bones were broken. Then it was Inkton'm*’s turn to fight the chief. The calf now helped him, and they continued throwing the bull into the air until all his bones were broken. The other buffalo turned around and went home. Inkton'mi and the calf kept their wives. The calf said, “LktoYn1, stay here, I ’ll go west to find my parents. Every fall I am going to visit you with the buffalo, and if any people live here, they will have plenty of buffalo.”

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Anthropological Papers American Museum, of Natural History. [Vol. IV

4S.1

Inkton/mi was walking along. By a coulee he saw a lodge. He went there softly and looked in. A man was sitting in the rear of the lodge. A large knife was lying beside him. To one of the lodge poles was tied a rattle. The man was sitting with bowed head. Hkto^nd entered. “My younger brother,” said he, “it is said that you are watching this lattle, so I have come to watch in your place. \ou can go to sleep. lhe man was willing. Then he took twisted tobacco, mixed it with kinikkinik, stuffed a pipe, and, handing it to IHcto^m1, bade him continue smoking it. When he had fallen asleep, Wkto^nd, picked up his quiver, took the rattle, and went out. He ran east. At daybreak he lay down in the brush to rest. Suddenly the man he had tried to cheat touched his hip. Shaking him, he bade Hkto^m1 get up. “You were truly watching the rattle!” “No, my younger brother,” said Inkton,m1, “ it was thus. I was going outside to knock the ashes out of the pipe. I was afraid that if I left the rattle indoors some winged being might enter through the smoke-hole and snatch it away, that is why I took it with me.”

49.2

Sitcon'ski was staying with his wife and three children, one of whom was a girl. His wife had many berries in the camp. The man scared away his wife ut cum filia coiret. He was hungry. Having nothing to eat, he asked one of the boys to bring him a spit, which he sharpened at both ends. The boy was watching his father. “Stand near me,” said Sitcon'ski. When the boy was close to him, he pushed the spit up his rectum, held the boy over the fire and roasted him. He ate his son’s flesh. The older boy was frightened. He always watched his father. When Sitcon'ski was hungry again, he asked the second boy to get him a large spit. Instead of obeying, the boy ran away. His father called him. When the boy did not return, SiteoNski went to look for him and saw him running away. He pursued him and was gaining on him. The boy ran to a wood, where he turned himself into a tree-trunk. Sitcon'ski passed him without taking any note of it. He could not see any track, and returned. The boy’s buttocks had re¬ mained human. Going back, Sitcon'ski noticed them and thought they looked like moose-flesh. While he was looking for the track, the boy re¬ sumed his former shape and made his escape.

1 Ft. Belknap. Translated from a text.

2 The identification of the cannibal with Sitcon'ski seems to be an afterthought.

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133

50 1

Sitcon/ski wanted to marry the daughter of a chief, but she refused to have him. He planned a scheme to get her. The people had broken camp. He went to the old camp-site and found a piece of a white robe. Shaking it, he said, “1 wish I had the whole robe.” He thus secured a whole robe. He picked up some red cloth, and similarly transformed it into a large piece. In the same way he got a weasel skin and an otter skin headdress. He then tracked the people. He met one of the chiefs sons, who conducted him to his father’s lodge. The girl liked Sitcon/ski in his disguise. “I am going home soon,” said Siteon'ski, “my people live far away.” The girl said she would get some wood. Sitcon/ski waited for her. She called out to him, “I 11 go with you.” He stood still and said, Get your things and we’ll go together. ’ The girl got her dress and ran back to Sitcon'ski, but he was gone. She only found a weasel-skin legging on the road, which turned into excrements. The girl returned to camp and told her father how Sitcon,ski had fooled her. 1 he chief said to the people, “We had better move camp, my daughter is ashamed.”

A man said to his wife, “ I am going to sleep away from home, but shall be back to-morrow.” The woman was glad for she was expecting a lo\ei. Her husband, however, only pretended to go away; in reality, he was watch¬ ing the lodge from near-by in disguise. He saw a man approaching the lodge. It was Hktifmni, who was crawling along the ground. He got stuck in a pit in the ground and could not get out. I he people did not gbe him any help, so he failed to steal the woman.

Sitcon'ski was traveling all day. At night he erected his shelter. 1 he next day he traveled again. He got to a muskeg and could not get across. He took a long stick and tried to use it as a bridge. When he had got half¬ way across, he tried to jump to the bank, but fell backwards to the side he had come from. He was furious, and began to abuse the muskeg. 3 hen he tried the stick again, first begging it to hold until he got across, lhe stick agreed to do so, and Sitcon'ski reached the other side. He traveled on. (There follows the story of the two-named roots. Sitcon'ski scratches his itching buttocks, and is doctored by a bear).

1 Cf. p. 162.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Sitcon/ski met the bear again. The bear said, “I cured you when you were suffering, help me now.” Sitcon'ski offered to make a sweat-lodge for him, but the bear was afraid of being cheated, and refused to have one. Instead he asked Sitcon'ski to go berrying and fill four large pails for him. Sitcon/ski started out, but did not feel like getting all the pails filled, so he put moss at the bottom and only a layer of berries on top.

Siteon'ski walked on. He was looking for Stoneys. He got to a big river. There he found a big beaver lying by the water-edge. It pretended to be dead. He passed on and got to a river again, where another beaver was feigning death. Sitcon/ski then knew it was merely pretending, so he turned it over and over, and packed it. He struck a lake. There he un¬ packed the beaver and tied it up with his tobacco-pouch, while going for some spits. He found some sticks and said, “ This is for roasting the legs, and this one for the head, and this for the tail.” He heard a noise. Looking around he saw the beaver swimming in the middle of the lake with his tobacco-pouch. Sitcon'ski was angry. “Give me back that sack!” “No, I won’t, because you were cutting spits to roast me on.” “No, the sticks were for another animal.” “I heard what you said to the sticks.” The beaver paid no attention to him, and swam away. Sitcon'ski pretended to be crying. The beaver pitied him, came back, and returned the tobacco- pouch, saying, “Hereafter don’t try to cheat beavers.” Sitcon'ski was glad to get his pouch back.1

Miscellaneous Tales.

1. Teze'xnin.2

(a)

An old woman had a married daughter. Both the husband and wife died, and then their only son lived with his grandmother. The other people in the camp said, “You two, go away, we don’t want you here.” They moved away. Whenever they were hungry, the boy went out to hunt. The other people were starving. One man said, “The poor boy has lots of food. I hen they went and stole his meat. The old woman cried. Her grandson said, “Don’t cry, we’ll get’ some more food.” He went out again, and killed plenty of game.

Seeing w

hat a good hunter he was, the chief

1 Cf. Russell, p. 213. (Cree).

2 Literally, Sore-Belly. Elements of this myth occur in Petitot’s collection nn 447-

449 (Cree). ’

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j gave him his daughter in marriage. Once the boy killed a big moose. The | people went for the meat. The boy put the blood in a bag, and his wife put ; it on her back. The boy walked behind, and pierced the bag with a ; pointed stick. “You are losing all the blood,” he said to his wife. She i said she would wash as soon as they got home.

The orphan grew taller and taller all the time. The people did not know I how to kill game. The orphan was the first to make a buffalo-pound. By { sweating, he made himself handsome. All the women liked him.1

(b)

There was once an orphan boy, whom no one cared for. He stayed with his grandmother at some distance from the camp. One man asked him, “How do you get so fat? Where do you get food from ? My grand¬ mother has plenty of food.” The man went to the boy’s lodge, and, finding plenty of food, stole it. The old woman cried. The boy said, “Don’t cry, we’ll get more food. ^ In the morning we shall find moose and buffalo meat.” They went to sleep. The next morning, there was moose and buffalo meat in their lodge. The orphan said, “Don’t go near their camp, those people don’t like us.” rlhe people said, Sore-Belly is tat again, they must have some food.” Sore-Belly knew they were going to steal the meat. He went home. When the men tried to steal his meat, he seized them by the wrist and broke their arms.2 I he chief saw that he was strong and gave him his daughter for a wife. The boy was very ugly. The chief ordered the couple to make a sweat-lodge. A hat kind of a young man would you like for a husband?” the boy asked his wife. “A handsome young man.” Then Teze'xnin went inside and sweated, while his wife waited outside. At last he told her to open the door, and came out as a handsome youth.3

1 A Teton folk-tale recorded by Curtis, III, pp. 111-118, is largely based on the Poor Boy motive. An old woman, whose people are expropriated by Waziya, clandestinely obtains a clot of blood, which develops into a mysterious boy. Bloodclot sets out to win the chief’s daughter by shooting a red eagle and red fox, but is met by Iktomi, who makes lnm stick to a tree returns clad in his garments, and in the guise of th^ hero marries the older daughter. Blood- clot ’is freed from his position on the tree by an old woman who brings him up with her grandson. He destroys Waziya, and as a reward receives the chief's younger daughter for his wife, but is despised by his sister-in-law on account of his assumed ugliness. He shoots the fox and the red eagle The latter flies home and is to be doctored, but Bloodclot intercepts the physician, learns his secrets, lays him low, plays his part, and kills the bird. He bathes, becomes trans¬ formed into a handsome boy, and is recognized as the wonder-worker he is, while Iktomi is obliged to seek safety in flight. The haughty sister-in-law now makes advances, which, how¬ ever, are spurned by the hero.

2 This incident is told of Crow-Head, a mythic hero of the Chipewyan of Lake Athabaska.

a For the deformed transformed motive, cf. Ivroeber, (e), p. 81 (Gros \entre); Dorsey

and Kroeber, p. 348 (Arapaho); Ivroeber (d), p. 171 ; Curtis, III, p. 117 (Dakota); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 606 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 72 (Ojibwa).

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(c)1

No one liked Teze'xnin, because he was ugly. The chief had a pretty daughter as yet unknown to any man. The boy was watching her. Uno die puellam mingentem conspexit. Quod cum vidisset, puer eodem loco minxit. Quo facto puella gravida facta est. Pater earn interrogavit, “Quis te gravidam fecit?” “Nescio” respondit. A child was born. The chief summoned all the young men to his lodge. All came readily, except Teze'xnin, who was the last to arrive. “Let each of you take the child,” said the chief, “whoever is wetted by it, shall be recognized as its father.” The child was handed to everyone present, but did not wet any of them. At last the chief said, Give it to Teze'xnin. ’ The child urinated on him, and the chief decided that he was the baby’s father. The girl did not like him. Sore-Belly asked, “What sort of a looking young man would you like to have?” “I want a nice young man with a light complexion and reddish (sic) hair.” The boy asked his grandmother to erect a sweat-lodge. He went in four times, then he re-appeared as just the kind of man his wife desired.

id)

An old woman v7as scraping a moose-skin. She piled up the scrapings in a heap and put them in a pail, which she hung up. She went out to fetch wood. When she returned, she heard a child crying. The scrapings had turned into a boy. The woman was very glad, and made a bed of moss for him. Having no milk, she brought him up on soup. He grew every mght. After four days he was as large as a fourteen year old boy.

the chief had a daughter, who refused to marry. (The bov hero causes this giil to conceive in the 'way described in the preceding version). When she had borne a son, her father summoned all the young men and declared that the one wetted by the infant would be recognized as its father. The child was handed from one man to another, but did not urinate on anyone. One man, Hog, drank some water, spat it out on himself and pretended to have been wetted by the child, but the people had noticed what he had done. At last the child urinated twice on the old woman’s ward, and the poor boy was accordingly recognized as its father.

The chief was displeased with his son-in-law, and disowned both him and his daughter. It was in the winter. He ordered that both, as well as the boy’s foster-grandmother, be tied up, and moved camp. The old woman had a little dog. When the people had gone, she asked the dog to untie them, and it freed them all. Then the boy asked the two women to pick up

1 This tale was recorded by Mr. Alanson Skinner

among the Cree of James Bay.

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rags of blankets and strips of buckskin. He ordered his wife to erect a sweat- lodge, and went in to sing. Out of the rags he made buckskin robes and handed them outside, then he shut the door again. After a while he pro¬ duced a fine white blanket. Then he transformed himself into a handsome young man. His wife was now very fond of him. He made many arrows and went out to hunt. The moose ran away, but he turned into a moose and killed many of them. They had plenty of meat now, and were very rich. They lived in the woods for a long time.1

Two girls were playing together. A poor orphan boy wished to join them, but they would not let him. When they walked away, he followed them. Then they told him to go away and play by himself. The boy went to his grandmother. “Grandmother, make some nice things for me, those girls have abused me.” She made him a new pair of leggings and moccasins. In the night he went to the girl’s lodge, but they cried, “Go away, you stinking one.”

After a while there was a famine, but the boy continued to kill game. Then one of the girls thought she had better marry the boy, seeing that he was such a good hunter. She went to his grandmother, and said, I w ill stay with your grandson.” “Well, you will never be hungry if you marry that boy.” The girl arranged her bed in the boy’s tent. When the boy came in, he was a little shy at first. “Here is your wife,” said his grand¬ mother. The boy said, “You called me ‘stinking one,’ why do you come here ?” The girl began to cry. The boy said, “Before taking you to wife, I shall go somewhere.” He set out, and killed two moose. After tra\eling for two davs, he met some people who were nearly starved. Ihey asked him where he came from. “A two day’s journey from here; you’ll starve if you don’t come along with me.” The chief said, “The boy has plenty to eat, let us go with him.” They went with him. I he boy kdled plenty of moose and elk, and distributed meat among all the people. His name was Sore-Belly.

Sore-Belly said to the people, “If I kill any game, don’t step over the meat.” Once the people transgressed the taboo, and all the moose ran away to the south. The boy went out several times without killing any game. One night he did not return. His wife tracked him a whole day without finding him. At last, he returned after five days’ absence, and brought back all the moose. They liked him; he used to dream of them.

i This version rather closely resembles a Kootenay tale (Boas, Einige Sagen der Kootenay, Verhandlungen der Berliner anthropologischen Gesellschaft, 1891. p. 163-165).

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After a while some one again stepped over some moose meat. Teze'- xnin said, “Someone has stepped over some meat again, the moose are go¬ ing away.” His wife asked, “Which way did they go?” “Northward.” After a while she got hungry and asked her husband to hunt moose. He said, “ If I go, I’ll never come back, you’ll never see me again.” She replied, “If you let me die, I’ll never see you either.” The boy started out for the moose. His wife tracked him, but could not find him and returned home. The old grandmother asked, “Where is your husband?” “He is far away, I could not find any man’s footprints, but only moose tracks.” The boy never returned, he turned into a moose. Then the people had to live on rabbits and gophers, until they found buffalo.

2. The Poor Boy.

Two good-looking girls were living together. The older one wished to marry a poor boy, but he refused. The younger one also proposed to him. Then he married her, and lived together with the two sisters. The boy used a large bear for a dog, always tying him up inside the lodge. When he lived with his grandmother, he once said to her, “I wish we had a bear for a dog.” She protested, saying she was afraid, but the next day, they had one. The boy was a great hunter. He used to play with other boys, none of whom had much to eat. They asked him where he got his meat, but he refused to tell. He said to his grandmother, “ I wish we had another bear.” I he next day they had a second one. Whatever the bov wished for, he obtained. After eating, he always played with other boys. They used to remark how fat he was getting. He always kept a small piece of bearskin. Once the boy said, I wish we had the meat of both a male and a female moose.” The next day his grandmother found the meat in camp. They subsisted on the meat for four months. He made a buffalo-pound. Now some people came to live near him. 1 he boy made many arrows, and gave one to each of the men. He told them he was going to drive the buffalo towards them. Soon they heard the trampling of buffalo, whom he drove into the pound. 1 hey shot all of them. \ hen they were done eating the meat, he drove some more in.

Once the boy stayed away for a long time. At last, just before sunset, they heard him coming. He shouted when he got close, and all the Indians came running to the pound. He was riding on horseback, and his horse was quite exhausted. When all the buffalo were slain, the women went inside and skinned them. The last time he got buffalo, he stayed out all night. At

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last he brought them, but there was only half a herd. He said, “I can’t get any more, they are all gone.’

They had gone to the mountains.1

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister.2

(a)

A young orphan boy was living with Ins sister. By his medicine he managed to kill beavers. In the winter he was in the habit of cutting the ice and putting his medicine in the water, then all the beavers would come out, and the boy caught them. Thus he obtained plenty of beaver-skins. He would hear people trying to kill beavers, but they could not do it. When they gave up the attempt, he would go there and use his medicine, which he carried about his neck. Being very strong, he tied all the beavers to a sinew string and carried them home. Once the other people tried to rob him, but he said, “Let me alone, these are my beavers.” If they persisted, he seized their arms and broke them.3 He never told his sister where he went to hunt. When the people came back to camp with broken arms, the girl said, “Lou never told me about breaking their arms, you must set them again. I he boy was paid well for treating the people. He just touched their arms, saying, “There is nothing wrong,” and they went home cured. All the people were afraid of him now.

One day, he said to the girl, “ Perhaps a lot of people will come and carry you off together with our lodge.” She asked, “Supposing they take me, what will you do?” “I will put a shell in the ground, go inside, and sing.” The people came and carried off the girl. They heard something within a shell. They tried to break it open by stamping on it, but only tore their feet. They tried to push it over, but could not do so. I hen they just went away with the girl. 1 he boy had two arrows. He shot them at the enemy, crying, “Avoid my sister!” The arrows killed everyone except the girl, whom her brother then took back again.

The boy went traveling. He heard a bear singing, “ I am walking on the earth.” The orphan sang, “I have met the stone. I he bear heaid him, and stopped singing. “What are you saying ?” he asked. “I was not say¬ ing anything.” “I want to know what you were singing. How many times have you met the stone ?” The bear was scared and fled, but the boy shot an arrow into his anus, splitting his back open and piercing his heart.

1 This story is obviously a fragmentary version of the story of the Poor Boy hero who supplies his starving people with food. The opening sentences stand absolutely unrelated to the rest of the tale.

2 This myth was found by Mr. Skinner among the James Bay Cre'e.

3 Cf. p. 135.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yol. IV,

Q>)

An orphan boy and his sister were’ living together. The boy had a sinew string. During the daytime he was never home. “What do you do during the day V his sister asked. “ I am trying to ensnare the sun with my sinew.” One day he caught him and there was no daylight. The girl asked, “What is the matter? Why is there no light?” “I have caught the sun.” “You had better release him; if we don’t see the daylight, we shall die.” The boy approached the sun, but it got too hot for him. He returned to his sister, and said, “I cannot free him, he is too hot.” At last, he sent a small mouse to gnaw up the sinew. The mouse went close. All its hair was burnt up, nevertheless it gnawed the sinew in two. Then the sun was free, and there was daylight once more.1

(0

A hostile tribe caught sight of a camp of about four hundred Stoney lodges. They waited until nightfall when all the Stoneys were asleep. Then they killed all except a young girl and her little brother, who hid in a dog¬ house. After the Blackfoot were gone, the children came out of their hiding place, looked about and found that everyone was killed. The girl packed her belongings and set out with her brother to look for another Stoney band. At sunset, the girl struck fire, and they lay down without any supper. The next morning the boy asked his sister to make a bow and arrows for him. She made two of the arrows with a blunt ( ?) point and strung the bow with sinew. Then they traveled all day again and went to bed supperless. The boy grew perceptibly every day. He told his sister, “If I kill four rabbits, each of us will eat two.’ ’ The girl agreed. The boy went off a little distance, found four rabbits in the brush, killed them, and brought them home. The girl asked how he had killed them, and he told her he had used the blunt ( ?) arrows. The girl skinned and roasted the rabbits. Then she said, “Let each of us eat one rabbit to-night and another in the morning.” “No, each must eat two now, as I said.” At last, the girl agreed, and they ate up the ra ^lts‘ t^e morning the boy had grown again. “Sister,” he said, “if I kill a moose, we ’ll have plenty of dry meat.” He traveled some distance and shot a moose. He came home. “I have killed a big moose, but it is too heavy for me to turn over for skinning.” The girl took her knife and helped 11m to skin it. Then he seized it by the legs and carried it to the fire. The

1 So far as I know, the oldest published version of this tale is that of Le Jeune whose Rela “°n of records it as a Montagnais myth (Jesuit Relations. Vol 12 p aJT c7 also J O

p TYS'.1’- ’* ( 239 «W"*>‘ P- IsMM— ‘LonS

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next morning he had grown again. The boy made new arrows ol larger size i for himself, while the girl was preparing dried meat. Every day the orphan I killed some game.

One night the boy began to sing, “Before we get up in the morning, 1 wish we had a new lodge with new furniture. What do you think?” His sister said she also desired a new lodge. In the morning the girl woke up first and found herself in a new, well-furnished lodge. She was very glad and roused her brother. Then she built a fire. The boy said, “If I go I hunting and some Indians carry you off in the meantime, what do you I think of that?” She said, “Whatever you say, happens. Why do you speak like this?” The next morning he went to hunt, but did not kill any game. He stood on a hill, looking around until he got drowsy and fell asleep. In the meantime, some Indians came to the tent, stole their property and abducted the girl on horseback. While the boy was sleeping, something spoke to him, saying, “People are stealing your sister and your lodge.” He woke up and ran home as fast as he could. He was very angry. There was nothing left on the site of the lodge. He followed the enemy’s tracks and from a ridge saw them traveling fast. He pursued them, but could not catch up; he onlv saw them from afar. Being exhausted, he called out, “I am weary; come, White-Horse-with-the-Black-Mane.” He walked on until he heard a voice behind. The white horse came singing. He jumped on it. It said, “Don’t release my mane.” Then it went as fast as a bird. When they got close to the enemy, he singled out his sister, took a blunt (?) arrow, pulled the bow-string three times, and the fourth time shot off the arrow, saying, “Pass around my sister.” With two shots he killed all the people. He took his sister back. She was crying, because the enemi had consumed all their provisions. “ Don t cry, we 11 get some more. He dismissed his horse and walked home with the girl. In the evening he said, “I wish to have a nice lodge at sunrise.” The next morning they woke up in a fine lodge. He went hunting and killed some game. “Go, get that meat,” he said to his sister. “How far is it? If it is very far, I won’t be able to pack it.” “Don’t go to-day; wait until to-morrow, then I ’ll get you a horse to pack it on.” In the morning th§ girl woke up and said, “Hurry up, get me the horse.” The boy set out, found four horses by a spring, and brought them home. He gave two to the girl, and said, When you pack this one, just tell him to go straight home.” Thus she brought the meat back.

The boy was ashamed to be living alone with his sister. He said, “If any young man comes near when I am out to-morrow, bid him enter. He went away. The girl saw a young man by a nearby hillock and called him to her. They married. When the boy returned, he was glad to meet Ins brother-in-law, and presented him with all his property and his lodge. The

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woman told her husband about her brother’s doings. The young man had many friends whom he wished to see. “You had better come to my camp,” he said to his wife and the orphan boy. “I'll get some more horses,” replied the boy, and brought four pack-horses and three to ride on. His brother-in-law rode on ahead and told his father that he had found the orphans and had married the girl. He also told him about the boy’s ex¬ ploits. His father said, “Bring them here, I will give him my prettiest daughter.” Then the husband again invited his wife and his brother-in-law home. The woman asked her brother to marry her sister-in-law, and he was willing to do so. They arrived at the camp-circle, the old man as chief lodging in the center. The boy’s brother-in-law gave him many fine pres¬ ents. He gave him half of his horses. The orphan boy said, “ I wish I had a new house in the morning,” and the next day he had a fine lodge close to that of the chief.

4. The Deserted Children.1

Whenever a certain young man defecated, he discharged beads. Some little girls were playing at erecting a model tipi. The youth purposely defecated near them, and went home. A younger brother of his, who was playing with the children, bade the girls fetch some water and meat. The girls looked at the excrements and picked up the beads. The young man who had been watching them from afar, went home. For a while he re¬ fused to speak. His father asked him why he was silent. At last, he said, “Some bad girls have played with my excrements after I had defecated, and by their magic they are plotting to destroy us all. We must flee and abandon them here.”

Accordingly, all the people packed their travois, muzzled their dogs, and ran away. The girls, who were playing with other children, did not know what had occurred. About the time of sunset one boy asked the girls to fetch some meat. Two boys who had gone to the camp returned, saying, “All the people have gone away.” The girls did not believe it, and the oldest asked her sister to go with the boys. She said, “It is impossible that our mothers have abandoned us.’ The girl returned crying. “All are gone.” The oldest girl- said, “We had better follow them.” The people had gone to a thick wood. The children could not find the tracks, though one old woman who pitied them had hung up moss to point the wav.

At last, they came to an old cannibal witch. The bead-maker had

Cf. Wisster and Duvall, p. 138 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 102 (Gros Ventre)- Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 286 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); J. O. Dorsey (d) p ok (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (c), p. 36 (Osage); Id., (a), p. 97 (Pawnee).

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dreamt of her and promised her the children for food. The girls asked her, “Where have our parents gone?” She answered, “You had better camp with me to-night.” Being tired, the children were satisfied, and were going to stretch out near the lodge-poles, but the witch said, “There are lots of mice there, you had better sleep near the fire.” She began boiling water in a kettle, then she cut off the oldest girl’s head and cooked it. She cut off the heads of nearly all the children, and ate them. There was one girl who had been carrying her little brother. She knew the woman was a witch, so she had told her brother, “Watch while I sleep, the old woman may be bad.” When the boy saw the witch severing the children’s heads, he pinched his sister, but she continued sleeping. At last he bit her ear, and she woke up. When she saw what had happened, she implored the witch to spare her. “ Don’t kill me, I’ll work for you and fetch your water and wood.” The old woman consented to let her live. The first day the girl fetched firewood, but it was wet, and did not burn well. “Look for dry wood; if you bring bad wood, I will kill you. Leave your brother here.” The girl said, “He is not cleanly, he may dirty you.” “Well, take him with you, but come back soon.” The girl went out with the little boy and found a buffalo skull. The skull said, “Come here, I am going to tell you something. You had better run after your parents. When you strike a big river, you will see two white swans there. Pick the lice from the swan’s head and chew them.

Then just say, ‘They are sweet.’”

The children ran to the river, and followed directions. The swans then put their necks together, forming a bridge, on which they crossed. The witch called out, “ Granddaughter, bring in the wood.” 1 he skull answered, “Wait, my brother has dirtied me.’ She called again, and again the skull answered for the fugitive. At last she got angry, took her axe, and went out. She could not see anyone and cried out, “Where are you, my grandchild ? Again the skull gave answer. She finally discovered that the skull was speaking, and said, “I’ll break you in two.” She tried to split it, but could not. Then she cried out to the girl, “Wherever you may go, I shall catch you.” She tracked her until she got to the bank. She asked the swans to let her cross. One swan said, “Pick and chew my lice, or I won’t let you cross.” The witch obeyed, but when she chewed them, she cried, “They stink, I don’t like them.” “You are abusing me, you don’t like me,” said the swan. Nevertheless, the birds made a bridge, but instead of joining- necks, they joined backs. The witch started to cross, but when she was in the middle of the stream, the swans raised their heads, and she fell into the river and was drowned.

The girl caught up to the people. She was perspiring from running so

fast. Her mother said, “You bad girl, go back.”

The girl

legged per

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______ _ __ _ _ _ _ __ [Vol. IV,

144

lather to let her stay with them, but he refused. At last, the good old woman i { moss said “Bring your brother to my lodge. bhe

who had hung up tl e tno- satd - „„ t0 the people, "Because

allowed them to sleep there^ me oea you had better tie

1'a\8ir!»rtr;o\toteaes!Stnbrate on them, and abandon them once ' ‘‘ 7 The "old woman remonstrated, but was told she might be aban-

Zld too She had a dog called Muskrat She spoke to ham as Mlowsc

“After 1 have fastened the tipi to your bac v, go n .

people are .one, return, untie the children, and let them have the tip. Also Teh the people’s urine from their bodies.” Then she went with the people The do- stayed behind. His mistress pretended to call him but he di n come. “At last, he appeared without the lodge.

it. When they could not find it, the old woman said, - ’

tended to whip her dog. , , „ „:„tpr

The deserted girl put up the lodge. The boy asked her. My sister, What ought we to eat?” “Buffalo meat,- the meat of the animal of v Inch we saw the skull.” “In the morning a nice fat buffalo will be at our door, said he. “That is impossible.” But the next morning, when she got up, she found a buffalo at the door. She was glad, skinned it, and dnec re meat. Her brother said, “Make me a sweat-lodge. No, you are too

young ” At last, however, she made one. He went m, and prayed - ei a while, she noticed a change in his voice, as though it were that ot a larger boy. He opened the door, and was a little taller than before. E\ en time he opened the door, he had grown somewhat. The fourth time he was a well-sized youth. He said, “To-morrow morning a big bear will he at our door ” “Bears are wild, how can we get his meat ? ’ ’ The next morn¬ ing nevertheless, she found a big bear at the door. She roused her brother, and told him about it. They had plenty of meat now. He said, “ To-mor¬ row we shall have a handsome lodge.” When she woke up the next

morning she found herself in a beautiful lodge.

The boy said, “I am going to travel a little now.” “Don’t go far, or you will get lost.” He made some arrows of willow-sticks, and feathered them. His sister gave him sinew. He made one arrow with a round head. Then he declared he was going to cross the mountains. “A big bear dwells there. He always kills people, he will kill you.” He said, “I will go in another direction,” but went straight towards the bear, singing, “I should like to meet something half-stone, half-bear.” When he reached the cave, the bear came out. “What are you saying about me?” The boy repeated his song. “You are a wretched boy, I ’ll swallow you.” “I ’ll kill you with my round-headed arrow.” The bear said, “Yonder are four big trees. Stand over here and try to split them with one shot.” “I can do that,

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the wood is not hard.” He shot his arrow, and broke them easily. The bear became frightened. There was a big rock near his cave. “Shoot at this stone and break it,” he said. “That is not hard,” said the boy. He shot off an arrow, and the splinters flew like snow-flakes. The bear was afraid now, and ran away. The boy said to his arrow, “Enter his anus, go up to his neck, and break him in two.” Thus the arrow killed the bear. The boy cut off his claws, and brought them to his sister. “Are these the claws of the bear you spoke of?” “How did you kill him?”

AA ith this bow and arrows. “Aon always go to evil beings. Don’t go to the giant. He kills moose and just puts them in his belt. He also carries a large staff.”

1 he boy set out to meet the giant. He found his tracks. At last he saw him coming with moose in his belt. The giant said, “Who is this little man ? I ’ll put him into my glove.” He put him inside, and tried to crush him with his clenched fist, but the boy tore his glove. Then he said, “I ’ll kill you with my staff.” “You can’t kill me that way.” The giant held him in one hand, and tried to strike him with the other, but the boy held his other hand, so that the giant could not hurt him. The giant was per¬ spiring. The boy said, ‘‘I thought you were strong.” Taking his staff, he truck the giant s back, breaking it in two. He took one of his gloves, and went home. “Is this the one you called a strong man?” “How did you get this glove ? I played with the giant, and split him in two with his own staff.” “That giant has killed my people.”

The boy said, “Some people are going to come to our camp.” A short time after, a brother of theirs came there. He looked thin and starved. The girl fed him with pemmican and gave him food to take to his people. He did not recognize them, but told his people he had met a handsome man and his sister, who had given him all kinds of food. The people, who were famishing, came to the boy’s lodge, but the girl would not give them any food. At last, the good old woman came with her dog, Muskrat. The girl called her. The dog knew her, and wagged his tail for joy. The girl led both hospitably. Then her father came and begged for some food. She said, Chew this up. He tried to -eat some, but it was as hard as bones. Then the girl hit her father in the neck with the dry meat. After this, she and her brother lived together with the old woman and her dog.

5. The Two Brothers.1

Two orphan brothers were traveling together along the shore of a big

1 Cf. Russell, p. 203 (Cree); Grinnell, (c), p. 150 (Blackfoot); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 238 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 202 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 87 (Menomini).

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lake They saw an old man paddling a canoe. The younger boy was playing with a white-tailed deer’s hoofs, which he threw into the air and caught in his hands. The old paddler approached the shore. When the boy threw one of his hoofs into the air, it fell into the canoe, but the old man refused to give it up. The boy began to cry. The older brother demanded the toy, but still the old man refused. At last, he stretched out his paddle, bridging the distance between the shore and his canoe, and said, “Stand there, and I ’ll hand it to you.” The youth obeyed, but the old man pulled in the paddle, so that he fell into the canoe. He cried, “Wait for my younger brother.” But the old man would not listen to him, and paddled away. The younger boy cried, running along the shore. Then he called out to his brother, “I am going to turn my feet into a wolf s.

The old man took his captive home. When they had landed, he turned his boat upside down, covering the young man with it. He then told the older of his two daughters to bring in her husband. She ran to the canoe, turned it over, and looked at him; but, as she did not like him, she turned the boat upside down again. When she returned to the lodge, her father asked, “Where is the young man?” She said he was too ugly tor her. Her father said, “No, he is good-looking.” He looked ugly because his eyes were swollen with crying. The father now asked the younger girl to bring him in. She took him home, washed his face, and combed his hail. He lived with her as her husband. Every day he went out hunting. His father-in-law had many manitou helpers. The youth killed one of them every day. In consequence, the old man grew tired and sickly. One day, the youth killed the last of the helpers, and the next day the old man did

not wake up from his sleep.

The young man then set out to find his lost brother. He went to the spot where he had last seen him, and found the track to be that of a boy on one side and of a wolf on the other. Whomever he met, he asked con¬ cerning his brother’s whereabouts. At last, he was told, “He is living far away among the wolves.” “Can’t any of you bring him to me? ’ No one can get him, he is too fast a runner to be caught.” Then the youth said, “I ’ll turn myself into a dead moose. Tell the animals and the wolves, too.”1 They obeyed, and all the animals came. The wolves were there, and the wolf-boy among them. The wolf -boy recognized his older brother and refused to go to the carcass. The other wolves told him to eat without fear. Then, although he was afraid, he began to eat the buttocks. After a while, his brother jumped up in human shape, and seized him by the legs. The wolf struggled, but was overcome.

1 For a similar episode, vid. p. 107.

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I he two brothers then lived together, but were not on good terms with each othei . 1 he older boy sent his brother out to drive moose, himself following with his bow and arrows. One day they went out for moose. A fat moose ran into a lake, and the wolf followed. When the hunter saw this, he ran along the shore to where he expected both to land. When he got there, he only found moose tracks leading from the lake. He began to cry. At last he saw a bald-headed eagle on a tree inclined toward the lake. “What are you looking at?” he asked him. “I am watching the dogfish playing with a wolf-skin,” replied the eagle. “How do these dog¬ fish live? ‘About the time of dawn they come up to sleep on a sand¬ bank.” The youth went to the sandbank where he found many dogfish lolling about. A hen they had fallen asleep, he approached and began shooting those nearest the water. He killed many of them, but others he merely wounded, and they fell back into the water with the arrows sticking in their bodies.

As he was standing by the shore, waiting for more fish to kill, he heard someone singing. He listened to the words, and walked towards the singer. He beheld a large toad with a reddened rattle slung across his breast and singing, I am going on the warpath to cure.” When the youth was close to the toad, he asked, Where are you going?” The toad answered, “I am going to doctor the dogfish in the lake. Some one has killed many of them, and wounded others, whom I am going to treat.” The youth asked when and where the toad was expected. When the toad had told him, he asked, “What are you going to do to cure the dogfish?” “I ’ll sing, ‘I am going on the warpath to cure.’” The young man slew the toad, flayed him, donned his skin, and walked on, singing his song. He went to the dogfish, who were waiting for the toad. He sang the toad’s words, but instead of pulling out the arrows he killed the dogfish with them.1 2

6. The Underground Journey.3 (a)

A man was living with his wife. It was summer. The woman was pregnant. One day, while she was picking berries, a big bear saw and abducted the woman, whom he kept in his cave. Before spring, the woman

1 For the “sham doctor” episode, cf. Maclean, p. 73 (Cree); Grinnell, (c), p. 152; Curtis. Ill, p. 116 (Dakota); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 241 (Omaha); Schoolcraft, p. 37 (Ojibwa); Hoffman, p. 133 (Menomini); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 250 (Pawnee); Jones, p. 357 (Fox).

2 A European tale. Cf. J. G. von Hahn, Griechische und albanesische Miirchen (Leipzig,

1864), Zweiter Theil, p. 49 et seq\ Lowie, p. 298 (Shoshone); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 352 (Omaha).

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gave birth to a child begotten by her first husband, but with plenty of hair on his body, wherefore he was called Icma' (Plenty-of-Hair) . In the spring the bear came out of his cave. The boy looked outside and told his mo her, “We had better run away to where you first came from. But the bear had stopped up the entrance with a big rock, and the woman said 1 e can’t get out, the rock is too heavy.” The boy tried it, arid was able to lift it. They fled before the bear returned. They were already near the Indian camp when they heard the bear coming in pursuit. The woman was exhausted, but the boy packed her on his back and ran to the camp. At first, the woman went to a stranger’s lodge. Then someone told her husband that his wife was back. The chief then took both her and his

son home. . t

The boy used to play with other boys. Once he quarreled with one ot

them and killed him with a single blow. This happened again on another occasion. Then Icma' said to his father, “I don’t like to kill any more boys, I ’ll go traveling.” He started out and met two men, who became his comrades. One of them was called Wood-Twister (Canyube ha), the other Timber-Hauler (He'isno'han) . They got to a good lodge, and decided to stay there together. On the first day, Icma' and Wood-Twister went hunting. They bade Timber-Hauler stay home and cook. While they were away, an ogre that lived in the lodge came out, threw Timber-Hauler on his back, and killed him. The two other men found him dead, but Icma' restored him to life. The next day Icma' said, “Wood-Twister, you stay home, I ’ll go hunting with Timber-Hauler.” At sunset Wood- Twister began cutting firewood. He saw something coming out of the lodge that looked like a man, but wearing a beard down to its waist and with nails as long as bear-claws. It assaulted Wood-Twister, who was found dying by his friends, but was restored by Icma'. The next day Icma' said, “You two go hunting, I will stay home.” As he was beginning to chop wood, the monster appeared and challenged him to fight. Icma seized its head, cut it off, and left the body in the lodge. When his com¬ rades returned, Icma' asked them, “Why did not you kill him like this? Then he said, “I don’t like this house, let us go traveling.”

They started out and got to a large camp. The chief said, “My three daughters have been stolen by a subterranean being. Whoever brings them back, may marry them all.” Icma' told Timber-Hauler to get wood and ordered Wood-Twister to twist a rope of it. Then he made a hole in the ground and put in a box to lower himself in. He descended to the underground country and pulled the rope to inform his friends of his ar¬ rival. He found the three girls. The first one was guarded by a moun¬ tain-lion, the second by a big eagle, the third by giant cannibals. Icma'

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killed the lion. The girl said, “You had better turn back, the eagle will kill you.” But he slew the eagle. Then the girl said, “The cannibals are bad men, you had better go home.” “I’ll wait for them.” The twelve cannibals approached yelling; they were as big as trees. The girl said, Run as fast as you can. But Icma' remained, and made two slings. With the first he hurled a stone that went clean through six of the men and killed them; and with the other sling he killed the remaining cannibals in the same way. One of the girls gave him a handkerchief, another one a tie, and the youngest one a ring. He took them to his box, and pulled the rope. His two comrades hoisted up the oldest one. Both wanted to marry her, but Icma' pulled the rope again, and they hauled up the second girl. Then Icma' sat down in the box with the youngest, and pulled the rope. As they were hauling them up, Wood-Twister said, “Let us cut the rope.” The other man refused, but Wood-Twister cut the rope, and Icma' fell down. He stayed there a long time, while his companions took the girls to the chief.

At last Icma' begged a large bird to carry him above ground. The bird said he did not have enough to eat for such a trip. Then Icma' killed five moose, and having packed the meat on the bird’s back, mounted with the third girl. Flying up, Icma' fed the bird with moose-meat, and when his supply was exhausted, he cut off his own flesh and gave it to the bird to eat. Icma' came up on the day -when his false friends were going to marry the girls. All the people were gathered there. Icma' arrived. “I should like to go into the lodge before they get married.” When he came in, Wood- Twister was frightened. “I should like to go out, I ’ll be back in a short time,” he said. But he never returned. Then the chief asked, “Which of you three rescued the girls?” Then Icma' showed the hand¬ kerchief, the tie and the ring given him by the girls, and got all the three girls for his wives.

(by

A big mountain-lion went about killing everything he saw. Three men were digging a hole in the ground, and were lowering a pail by a rope in order to escape. One of them, Stick-Twister, said, “I’ll go down first. If I pull the rope, draw me up quick.” When he had got far down, he saw many lodges. In the first lodge he saw two good-looking girls. He said, “I like you girls very much.” “Why?” “Because you are so pretty.” “Oh, our sister in the next tipi is much prettier.” There were blue, yellow and red tipis. The girls said, “You will see many of us people underground here.” He went on and reached an old woman’s tent. “Oh,

to

1 A rather confused version.

150 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [V ol. I\ ,

my grandson,” she said, “don’t go any further, those people are bad, they ■will kill you.” The man said, “Give me some water.” She said, “We have to buy our water. I have only this much left.” She gave him a cup and a-half. The man, after drinking, said, “Give me a pail, I’ll fetch water.” He got water. The old woman said, “You will make the people angry at me." They kill anyone that steals water; they will throw you into a hole, where the mountain-lion will devour you. He gave the old woman a ring, and returned to the first tipi. He took one of the girls, went back to his pail, and got in. They heard the roar of the lion, pulled the rope, and w'ere drawn up. rlhe man told his friends, I found man} good-looking people there.” One of them said, “I’ll go down and learn how to make guns.” “Take a little iron along, put it in the ground when you get down there, and invite all the people to come up with you. Ihc second man descended. He met two men and asked them, I low do you make iron?” “Out of stone juice.” “I come from a fine country; come up there with me.” “What kind of people are you talking about ! \ou are no good.” “Where I come from there used to be lots of people, but the mountain-lion has killed most of them.’ He knew he was in danger, so he ran back to the pail, jerked the rope, and was hauled up again.

7. PoTIPHAR.1

(a)

Lons ago a man was living with two wives, one of whom had a son. Once the other woman asked her stepson to fetch some fire-wood. While out in the woods, he shot a partridge. The stepmother went for the par¬ tridge before it was dead. She put it between her legs. The partridge scratched her thighs. She came home and told her husband that the other woman’s son had tried to seduce her; she had repulsed him, but while assaulting her he had scratched her legs.

The man was very angry. He asked his son to look for eggs with him. They started out in a canoe on a big lake, where there were four islands. On one of these they landed. There were no eggs there. The boy walked about on the island. In the meantime, his father returned to the boat and paddled away. The boy shouted to his father to stop, but the man only answered, “Who is your father?” The boy cried for four days and nights. At last a gull flew to him. It advised him to kill a gull, take off its skin

1 Also found among the Biloxi: J. O. Dorsey, in Riggs, p. XXXI ; the Dakota: ibid., p. 139; the Omaha: J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 138; the Cree: Petitot, p. 451; the Blackfoot: Wissler and Duvall, p. 98.

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and feathers, and put them on himself. The boy did as he was told, donned the skin, and tried to flv. At first he rose only a short distance and fell down again. At last he learnt to fly. Then he flew across the lake. When he descended on dry land, the gull told him he would have to pass two chasms that were alternately opening *and closing, but if he caught two small fish and threw them into the cracks he would be able to pass in safety while the earth ■was swallowing them. He did as he was told. When he came to the first crack, he threw in one of the fish, and while the earth closed over them, he passed across. In the same way he stepped over the second chasm.

He traveled on towards his father’s camp. When he got nearby, he heard his mother crying. He stood listening. She was chopping wood. A little bird flew up to her, and said, “Your son is here.” She listened. The bird repeated the same words. She answered. “That is not true, my son has been dead for a long time.” Then the boy approached her. She ran up and embraced him. “My boy, are you back?” She showed him sore spots all over her body, telling him how her husband was abusing her. 'hhe boy got angry. He bade her go home and bring the other wife’s baby. “Throw it into the fire, run out of the lodge, and cry, ‘O, my son! O, my son!’ ” She did as he had bidden her. Her husband followed her, crying, “No matter where you go, I shall kill you.” The boy was waiting behind a tree. The woman ran towards him. When the man saw his son, he stopped. “O, are you back?” He did not hurt his wife. He invited his son to their lodge, and they agreed to have a trial of strength. The man failed to overcome his son. At last the boy said, “Which of us can bring the sun down here?” He caught the sunbeams, pulled them down like ropes, and thus brought the sun down.1 It got very hot, and the father was nearly suffocated. Then the boy told his father to hide under fat, but the fat soon melted.2 The father could not escape from the heat and was burnt to death.

0 b )

Two brothers were living together; the older one was married.3 One day, while the older brother was out hunting, the woman tric'd to seduce her brother-in-law, but he refused to have anything to do with her. Then the woman requested him to catch her a chicken and bring it home alive. The boy obeyed. The woman put the chicken between her legs, until it had scratched them all up, then she released it. The boy asked her, “Why

1 This is a rather popular mode of destroying the enemy in Stoney folklore,

a This incident occurs in a James Bay Cree version recorded by Mr. Skinner.

3 The narrator identified the younger brother with Tezdxniti.

152 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

did you do that?” She did not reply. The boy waited for his brother outside. When he had returned, the woman feigned crying. “Your brother tried to ravish me, and when I resisted, he scratched up my legs.” “You lie, you asked me to bring you a chicken, and the chicken scratched you.” The man, however, believed his wife; he ate nothing. He said to his brother, “There is a big eagle’s nest over there. We '11 take a rope along and catch the young birds.” They started out. The eyrie was near a large river. The man told his brother to climb up. The boy climbed up, killed the young birds, and threw them down to his companion. The older brother then chopped down the tree, so that Tezexnin fell into the water. Then he went home. His wife asked, “Where is your brother?” He refused to answer, though she repeated the question several times. At last he said, “I killed him, because he tried to ravish you.” The woman said, “I lied to you,” and began to cry. But Tezexnin got out of the water, and afterwards became very strong.

(c)1

(The older brother, Red-Boat, has abandoned his brother on an island.)

The young man found an enemy on the island. He killed and scalped him, making two pieces of the scalp. Then he went back to where his older brother had left him. Something rose from the water. It had a long body and two horns, one straight, the other crooked. “Grandchild,” this being said, “where are you going?” “I am looking for my brother.” “Your brother has left you, get on my head, we’ll go after him.” The young man tied a piece of scalp to the crooked horn, and told the animal he was giving it to him for a present. Then the Horned-One declared he would save the boy. The boy mounted between his horns and they pur¬ sued the older brother. The Horned-One said, “When we are close to him, say, Y ou have abandoned me, but if you have anything to take pity on you, we shall see which of us will live longer.”’ When they got close, the boy called out to his brother according to these directions. Red-Boat cried, “Very well, you will soon be killed by a big mosquito.” The younger brother cried, “You will be burnt to death by the sun.” They parted. The Horned-One took the boy to an island and bade him land. “Always look at the sun at noon. If you see a little cloud just below the sun, get on the largest log you can find, and lie there for some time.” He departed. The boy walked about with the one piece of scalp. He saw a cloud appear, and got on a log. A huge mosquito made a dash at him. He got under the log, and the mosquito’s sting went clean through it. The bov had

1 Ft. Belknap.

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received a piece of bone with instructions from the water-animal. He now used it against the mosquito and killed him. He walked on, crying.

Suddenly there appeared some animals coming over a hill. The first two were tigers,1 followed by two bears. They were followed by a woman. She bade the animals stop and spare the boy, because he was so pitiable. The boy approached her and sat down. She asked him what he was doing, and he recounted his story. She said, “I am hunting people somewhere.” 1 he water-animal had told him to give the second scalp to an old woman he would meet. It turned out that she was the Horned-One’s wife. She "as wearing a scalp-robe, and the scalp he offered her fitted nicely. She was grateful. “These animals would have eaten you up, but I stopped them. I will tell you where to go. Your brother’s brother-in-law is chief in his tribe and known as its greatest medicine man. He is always abusiiw your sister. Though he is wakan', I will tell you how to act. Travel towards his camp, and wait until evening. On your way you will meet some of my children. They generally come at this time. You may kill and eat the last animal you meet, but don’t break its bones.” A number of ani¬ mals passed; a black one was in the rear. It turned out to be a fat young skunk. The young man caught and killed it, skinned it, and roasted its flesh, but without breaking any of its bones. He picked up the bones and wrapped them up in the animal’s skin. He laid it down, and the skunk got up alive again.

He walked on and got to a hill, whence he saw a camp. Going to a coulee, he remained there until dark. Then he approached the camp to listen to what was going on. In one lodge, in the center of the camp, where the medicine-man lived, he heard a woman crying. It was his sister. He went first to his parents’ lodge. He tied his bone weapon to one of the tent-poles, and entered. Xo one inside knew him. His parents had grieved about his supposed death, but did not recognize him. They had had nothing to eat for three days. He said, “Father and mother, it is I that have come back to life.” Then he told them his story. They told him how unhappy his sister was. The boy said, “We shall soon get rid of him.” “It is pretty hard to get rid of him; he is very powerful, there is no way of killing him.” After a while, the medicine-man dispatched his wife to invite her brother to his tent. He refused at first, saying her hus¬ band was not a good man, but when she came the second time he accepted the invitation. The medicine-man offered him something to eat and smoke, but the boy refused the pipe. A short time after, his sister was again mal¬ treated by her husband. The boy sent his mother to tell her that when

1 I use my interpreter’s expression.

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[Vol. IV,

her husband beat her again she should seize him by the hair and tiy to pull him outside of the lodge. The next titne, the woman acted according to his instructions. Her brother was waiting outside Ins bone weapon in his hand When the medicine-man was outside the lodge, the boy bio e his back clean through. The medicine-man said, “I did not expect a boy like you to kill me, but you did, and now you will take charge of the camp. The boy bade his sister build a fire. She heated rocks and cast them into a pit dug in the ground. Her husband attempted to rise, but he grey weaker and could not move. Thus he was killed, and the boy saved his

The hero was now going to kill his older brother, Red-Boat. One day he summoned all his relatives, and said, “Gather as many baskets of water as possible. Set them in your lodge, and remain there.” The next day it was very hot. It was so hot that the water began to boil. Nearly all the people, except the boy’s relatives, were getting burnt. Red-Boat tried to enter his brother’s lodge, but his brother would not permit it, so he burnt to death outside of the door. Red-Boat’s wife was saved. The next day it grew cool, and several people who had hidden appeared again. The young man told his parents to use Red-Boat’s wife as a slave. “First I will punish her,” he said. He took a badger’s claws, and with them scratched all her back. Then she became the slave of his parents.

8. The Son-in-Law’s Tests.

(«)

Sitcon/ski had a beautiful daughter, whom everyone sought to marry. One day a young man came and married her. She warned him against her father. “He kills every young man that comes here. He has already killed three.” It was in the winter. Sitcon'ski said to his son-in-law, “Let us two travel together.” They traveled for two days. On the second evening, before going to sleep, they built a fire and hung their wet moc¬ casins over it. While the old man slept, the youth, divining his intentions, exchanged the two pairs of moccasins. Sitcon'ski woke up in the course of the night, took what he supposed to be his son-in-law’s moccasins, and burnt them up. The next day he was going to don his moccasins. “ These are mine,” said the youth. “O, I get crazy sometimes, I have burnt up my moccasins,” said Sitcon,ski.1 He was very sorry, for it was a cold day. He said to the youth, “Go back, and ask my wife to make moccasins for

1 For the preceding incident, see Schoolcraft, p. 209 (Ojibwa).

1909.1

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

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me. Return with them as soon as you can, and, for the present, heap up a lot of firewood for me.” The young man only piled up a few sticks, then chose a roundabout way to go home, so that it took him four days to get there. He bade the old woman make moccasins and follow his own tracks in bringing them to her husband. When she finally arrived, she found him frozen stiff, but a big fire restored him.

the young man’s wife said, ‘‘He will test you again.” In the summer Sitcon'ski said, ‘‘Let us go to the island to get eggs.” They paddled over in a canoe. They gathered eggs. Sitcon'ski said, “I’ll go to the other side to gather different eggs.” He stole away and paddled homewards, singing. At first, the young man cried. After a while he killed a gull, put on its skin, took his eggs, and flew over the lake with the gulls. The birds were playing directly above Sitcon'ski’s head. Sitcon/ski cried, “You bad hi ids, nhv are you playing above my head?” Then his son-in-law defecated on him. Sitcon'ski repeatedly tried to hit him, but failed every time. His son-in-law defecated on him four times. Sitcon/ski said, “This bird defecates like a man, the odor is human.”1

The youth got back first, doffed his skin, and walked home. When Sitcon'ski approached, his son-in-law’s child asked him, “Why are you so late ? My father has been back for a long time.” “I have left your father on the island.” “No, my father is in the lodge.” When Siteon/ski saw his son-in-law with the eggs he was angry, but henceforth he let him alone.

(b)

An old man had a pretty daughter, who was married to a young man. He did not like his son-in-law. He was a great dreamer, and used to kill people by his power. Once he said to the young man, “Get some willow- sticks for making arrows; but before you get the willows, drink from the spring near the trees.” The youth went and drank of the spring water. Suddenly a mountain-lion leapt out of the spring, pulled him down, and killed him. A friend of the slain young man married his widow. He was also sent for willow-sticks, and perished in the same way. A third youth married the girl and was sent to the spring. When he had drunk, the mountain-lion came out, but the youth said, “My grandfather, don’t kill me.” The lion left him alone, and he returned with the willow-branches. The old man could not sleep, because he had failed to kill his son-in-law. At last he said, “Go and kill the big elk in the woods, so that 1 can make use of his horns.” The young man started out, but the elk charged on him and hooked him to death.

1 Cf. Russell, p. 204 (Cree).

156 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural Nistory. [Vol. IV,

1 fourth man married the widow. He was sent for willow-sticks, but this time the mountain-lion did not come but at all. When the son-m-law returned the old man sent him to kdl the big elk. Beioie e go e he met a little old mouse. He said, “My grandmother, I am trying to kill the elk. make a hole in the ground for me.” The mouse consented to do so She dug a tunnel below the spot where the elk usually lay don n. said, “He is too wild, he will kill you.” The youth answered I want o kill him. If you help me, I will give you all the meat When the e lav down the mouse gnawed away all the hairs around his hear L was standing below. She returned, telling him she was through with

her work. He went to the tunnel. He could hear the elk shear beating

like a drum. He shot an arrow into the animal s heart. The elk seeing n0 one, ran about in search of the enemy. At last, he came back to Ins old resting-place and turned over to the other side. I hen the youth shot again, and killed him. He brought the antlers to his father-in-law .

• The old man was getting weak because two of his dream-helpers had failed He bade his wife erect a sweat-lodge. He sweated, then he said, to the young man, “Let us go to the island to get feathers for the arrows. They paddled over. When they had arrived, the father-in-law said, W e 11 walk in different directions.” They tied up the boat, and separated, but the old man ran back to the canoe and paddled away, abandoning his son- in-law The youth cried out, “Come back to me,” but the old man, instead of heeding him, merely replied, “You have killed my helpers, you will die on the island.” The young man cried. A bird came flying. “What are you crying for?” “I can’t get out of this island.” The bird changed him into a bird like itself, and he flew home. The old man was paddling, and heard the birds above him. He glanced up. Then his son- in-law defecated directly in his eye. The son-in-law got home before the old man. When the latter finally arrived, the young man’s son asked him, “Grandfather, why do you come home so late? My father has been home for a long time.”

The old man sweated once more. Then he asked his son-in-law to accompany him on a trip to the other Indians. They started out with snowshoes on a cold winter day. They traveled for two days. On the third evening they lay down on different sides of the fireplace. Their moccasins were wet and had been hung up over the fire. The young man was watching his father-in-law. When he saw him sleeping, he exchanged his moccasins for the old man’s. When the old man woke up, his son-in- law pretended to be asleep. The old man made a bigger fire, and, taking his own moccasins for his son-in-law’s, cast them into the fire. When day¬ light came, the young man claimed his own moccasins. His father-in-law

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said, “I am sorry, my moccasins have been burnt up. Go back to camp, bid my wife make new ones, and bring them as soon as possible. Before you go, pile up plenty of wood here.” The young man pretended to obey, but merely heaped up a pile of little shavings that were quickly consumed. He walked home in a zigzag path, so that he did not arrive before ten days. He told his mother-in-law, “The old man has burned up his moccasins and wants new ones. Follow my tracks, and you will find him.” She obeyed. After ten days she got to the place, but only found her husband’s corpse, huddled together on the ashes of the fireplace and frozen stiff.

The old woman returned to camp while her son-in-law was hunting. She wished to marry the young man herself. She constructed a swing over the river, concealing a cut in the rope. Then she asked her daughter to get into the swing. The girl asked her mother to swing first, but finally she sat down and began to swing. When she was swinging the second time, the rope tore, and she fell into the water. Her mother cried, “I am feeding the fish in the lake.” A big fish came and seized her daughter.

The old woman donned her daughter’s clothes. She did not show her face, so that her son-in-law mistook her for his wife. He brought some moose-meat. The first night he did not discover who she was. The next day, the drowned woman’s baby cried all day, and the old woman’s son also cried for his lost sister. Hearing the child’s wailing, the drowned woman rose out of the water to nurse it. Her body, from the waist down, was that of a fish. The next night the man discovered that the woman he was sleeping with was not his wife. He asked his brother-in-law, Where is your sister?” “My mother threw her into the water.” “What part of the lake did you see her in?” The boy told him. Then the man trans¬ formed himself into a stick standing by the water, and his brother-in-law called his sister, bidding her nurse the infant. Her husband wished to kill the big fish that had stolen her. The woman rose from the water. “ I have never seen that stick before,” she said. Her brother cried, “Come nearer!” She approached and nursed her baby. Suddenly her husband seized her, cut off the fish-moiety of her body, and took her home. I he old woman fled.

9. The Evil Parents-in-Law.

An old woman was living with her grandson. One day he said, “1 should like to get a wife.” “Which way are you going?” “I am going towards the sunrise.” “If you go far, you will meet evil people.” Never¬ theless, he set out. He found people camping. “What are you looking for?” “I am seeking the man that has an only daughter.” They pointed

158 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

out the way. At last he got there and asked for the girl. Her father said, “She is my only daughter. I am getting old. Only if you do as I bid you, may you marry her.”

The first task he set for the youth was to cut down all the big trees on a hill. The boy’s grandmother had told him to call on her in any difficulty. He now called her, and immediately the sound of falling trees was heard. He could not see any one. When all the trees were on the ground, he returned and told his father-in-law that the task was done. “That is good work. Now 1 am going to cook two cows. Each of us will have to eat up an entire cow.” The old man cooked the meat, then they sat down back to back. The youth dug a large hole in the ground, and pretending to eat, put all the food into the pit. Accordingly, he was the first to get through. The old man was perspiring. He said, “We ’ll try another match. I have two pistols. Take one, and let us see which of us can destroy the other.” They took the pistols. “After pulling the triggers, we’ll shut our eyes.” The old man shot first. He hit his son-in-law in the middle of the fore¬ head, but the shot did not hurt him. The youth’s shot also had no effect, but in a second exchange the young man killed his opponent. He went home, and told his girl, “Your father is dead, he killed himself while shoot¬ ing chickens.”

The old man’s wife said, “You two may dance inside the lodge, but you may not yet sleep together.” The young man was eager to sleep with his wife, so he called on his grandmother for aid. She sent lots of people into the lodge to dance instead of the young couple, while the lovers were sleeping together. The next day the mother-in-law said, “You must dance another night, then you may go home.” Again he called on his grand¬ mother for help, and she assisted him as before. The youth said to the girl, “Let us flee.” “My mother is wicked, she will somehow kill us.” The boy was not afraid, however; he transformed himself and his wife into tumna' tangagan (a species of birds), and away they flew.

When the old woman discovered their flight, she cried, “Wherever you go, I shall kill you.” They could hear her coming. The girl cried, “Do something, I wish to live.” Her husband took her into a snake-hole. The pursuer went around the hole, searching for their tracks. At last she said, “I am going home now, to-morrow I shall pack their flesh.” The next day they continued their flight. When she pursued them, they turned into prairie-chickens. After a while, they transformed themselves into mosquitoes. rlhe old woman missed their tracks, and they heard her saying, ‘ i o-morrow I shall catch them.” The next day they fled as grouse. I hey reached a gopher hole, crawled in, and begged the gophers to stay outside and cover their tracks. The old woman could not find their tracks.

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“If I do not catch you by to-morrow, I’ll let you go,” she said. The following day the fugitives fled to a bull-dog flies’ nest. The woman knew they were there, but the flies were buzzing outside and would not allow her to approach. Finally the old woman said, “I ’ll let you alone now, I am going home,” and went away.

10. Adventures of Two Boys.

A chief had two daughters. He addressed the young men, saying, “Whoever brings me a handsome dog, may marry my daughters.” The young men went and brought in many dogs, but the chief always said he wanted a different kind. One of two boys at last brought him some small dogs. The chief was satisfied, and gave him one of the girls in marriage. The second boy, while looking for a dog, got to a beautiful unoccupied lodge. He rested there. It was the dwelling of an ogre.1 When the ogre came home, he said, “I am going to put you to work, you are going to cook for me.” The ogre used to cook people and horses. He owned one mule. The nude once warned the boy, “After a while you will get killed.” The boy said he wanted to live and asked the mule to help him. “If you run away and see a small dark cloud, that will be the ogre.” The boy rode away, mounted on the mule. The mule said, “When the ogre pursues you, you will make me perspire white sweat. Bathe your body in my sweat. The ogre will try to burn you up on a heap of firewood, but with my perspiration on your body you cannot burn up.”

After a while the ogre caught up to the boy and made him build a fire. The boy said, “I shall first ride around on the mule.” The ogre consented. The boy bathed in the mule’s sweat, then he built a fire and undressed. When the fire was crackling, the ogre said, “If you beat me in this trial, you may go away.” The boy leapt into the fire, but he remained unscathed. The ogre said, “If you pass through it four times, then you will win.” The boy succeeded at each trial. Then the ogre said, “ Let me have your horse.” When he had taken the mule, he asked, “What did you do when it sweated ?” The boy told him, and the ogre was also going to grease himself with the sweat. But the boy had not told him the truth, telling him to ride gently and not to make the mule sweat very much. The ogre followed his direc¬ tions. When he entered the fire, there was a sound like the report of a gun, then the ogre was all burnt up.

The mule said, “Don’t ride me too much and always give me plenty to eat.” The boy obeyed. He returned home. On the way he found a

1 Waxnun'jange wakan'.

160 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

beautiful dog. He brought it to the chief, who allowed him to marry his second daughter. The chief had a good stable, and the boy put his mule inside. “How did you get it?” asked the chief. Then the boy told him his story. The mule told the boy not to make him sweat any more, but some people were eager to try. One man asked him very often. The bo
refused to let him mount the mule, but he insisted on going through the fire. At last, the boy yielded, and the man rode through the fire, but was burnt up. Thereafter the people were afraid of the mule.

The chief said, “There are some cattle in the sea. If any one gets them, I will resign my chieftaincy in his favor. His two sons-in-law set out in a canoe. One of them dived down, but was drowned. The mule- owner returned home. After a while he went back, accompanied by anothei young man. He dived in, and brought up four cattle, wdiich he brought to the chief. Thus he became chief himself.

The old chief had a young child. Having no lodge now’, he did not know what to do. He made a little box, put it in the water, and left the boy there. A woman found him and took him home. After he was grown up, his father found him. “Where did you get that child?” he asked the woman. “I found him in the wrater.” “That is the child I left there.”

11. The Lecherous Sister.

(a)

Virgo cum fratre coire concupivit. Nocte dum omnes dormiunt prope eum decubuit. Frater nesciens quacum coiret cum sorore coiit. In order to discover what girl had visited him, he painted his hands and rubbed them on her blanket.1 When daylight appeared, all the people wTent up a hill. The youth wratched the women fetching wmod. When he saw his sister’s robe stained, he wTas ashamed. He wrent home and said, “I am going to travel.” He prepared his canoe. His sister asked, “Where are you going?” “I am merely playing wdth the canoe.” The girl said, “I will accompany you.” “Well, get your things ready, and wTe’ll go together.” She ran back. In the meantime, the young man paddled away.

The young woman returned crying. Her brother was already far away. She called out to him, “Ere you return, all your people will be killed.” The man paid no attention to his sister, but paddled on. In the night he dreamt that his sister had killed all the people. Returning home, he found

1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 107 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 209 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 181 (Cheyenne).

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that she had really killed all by lightning and was flying about as a bird. “My brother is back, all the people are dead.” She was going to kill him too, but he had many dreams, and invoked the Thunder, so that she could not hurt him. She did not come near him then. Now he wanted to kill her, having dreamt of various birds. He called on a hawk to catch her, but when it came near her, she frightened it away, crying, “Big-Eyes, what are you coming here for?” She flew from tree to tree. At last she was exhausted, and another hawk caught her. Then her brother came, killed her, and cut her to pieces. She had burnt up her own parents. He cut up her flesh, and left a slice in every fireplace in the camp. Then he bade all the people wake up. They became alive, and were glad to have been rescued. They divided into two bands, which moved in different directions.

In one of these bands there was an orphan boy living with his grand¬ mother. (There follows the tale of the wonderful orphan who secured food while other people starve. Vid. p. 134).

(&)

Two young women, as vet unknown to man, tried to seduce their brother. The boy was ashamed and asked his father to build a nice canoe for him. His father made one, and put plenty of food inside. The boy did not say anything to his sisters, but his mother told them their brother was going away. The sisters ran after their brother. He pretended to step aside to ease himself, but in reality he pulled out in his canoe. The girls saw him far out. They called to him to return. When he refused to pay any atten¬ tion to them, they cried, “You will get drowned in the sea.” They called on a big fish, bidding him devour the boy, but the boy had dreamt of the fish and cried, “Don’t hurt me, it is I.” The fish spared him.

The two sisters were playing with the children of the camp. 1 hey said to them, “We will play bear, but you must not touch our anus.” They played for a while. Finally, a boy touched the anus of both girls. Then they turned into real bears and killed all the children, as well as the other people, save an orphan boy and girl who had hidden in the moss. They also spared their own parents, but they burnt their skin and blinded them with lightning. The orphans traveled away.

The eagle said to the boy, “ All your people have been killed by your sisters. Your parents are alive, but they are burnt.’ The boy returned to the camp. He saw smoke rising from one lodge, and found his parents there. Thinking their bear-daughters were returning, the old couple were terrified, but the boy made himself known to them. Then they rejoiced. He asked, “Why are all these people dead?” “Your sisters have killed

162 Anthropological Papers American Museum oj Natural History. [Vol. IV,

them all.” “When do you expect them to come back?” “At noon you will see a black cloud. Your sisters are ‘in it; they cause the thunder.” The youth called upon the birds to kill his sisters. T here was a rock jut¬ ting out from the water; he fashioned it into an eagle. The girls caught sight of their brother, and were frightened. They went up a tree. At last, they lit on the rock. Then the stone eagle seized them and held them until the boy came, who killed the women, burnt up their flesh and pul¬ verized it. He took his parents into a sweat-lodge and cured them of then- blindness. Then he asked his father to look for a piece of hair in every lodge. The old man brought the hair to him. Then he went around the next day, calling on all the dead to get up and build a fire. All woke up.1 The young man told his parents and the other people they would have no more trouble, and went away to the sea, where he married.

The orphan children came near starving; they did not know at first how to make fire. (There follows the tale of the orphan children. The orphan boy is identified with the sun-catcher.)

12. The Witch.2

A woman owned a bitch. One day the bitch said, “I am going to give birth to two pintos.” The woman and the dog simultaneously gave birth to twins. Both the boys and the pintos grew fast. One day one of the boys was riding his pinto. He heard something coming. He built a fire. Suddenly he saw an old woman standing on the other side of it. Both went to sleep. The woman woke up, rose, and put medicine on the boy, killing him. When he did not return, his brother went to look for him. Finding his brother’s corpse, he also went to sleep there. He heard the witch coming. “That’s the one that killed my brother,” he thought. The old woman lay down. “My grandson, I am tired out.” “You can rest on the other side.” He did not sleep, but kept watching her. She thought he was asleep. She had two medicines, one for poisoning, and the other for resuscitating people. When she tried to poison him, he seized her and killed her with her own medicine. With the other he restored his brother to life.

13. The Faeces as Suitor.3

A young woman refused to marry any of her suitors. She always ate

1 In another version, the lecherous sister’s heart is pulverized, and the powder sprinkled in the fireplaces to restore the people to life. Cf. p. 180.

2 Cf. “ The False Comrade,” p. 205.

3 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 151 (Blackfoot).

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a little whitish meat from the flesh of a buffalo neck. Whenever she defe¬ cated, her faeces were white. She never grew fat. Her mother said, “If you will continue to eat just from one piece, you will starve. Eat the tongue, that’s a good piece to eat.’’ Then the girl ate of the tongue, and her excrements were black. She was angry, scolding them “had excre¬ ments.” She went home, and ivas angry at her mother.

In the spring the camp moved. The black excrements were angry at being called names. They began to talk, summoning the faeces of other people. They agreed to gather together in a heap as large as a man. When the people had moved, this pile marched after them in human guise. Wher¬ ever the dung-man caught sight of a little piece of cloth or skin on the ground, he picked it up and shook it, saying, “I want a bigger one.” He found a small weasel-skin, shook it, and said, “This is a small legging.” The skin became larger, and he had a pair of leggings. Then he found a small otter- skin, which he transformed into gloves. He found some blanket cloth and changed it into a new robe. He found a little paint, put it on his face, and soon had the appearance of a handsome Indian.

The dung-man continued to track the people. After a long time he caught sight of their camp. He stood there watching them for a while. At length they saw him and said, “He must have come from another camp.” The girl’s father invited him to his tent. The girl herself was confined in a menstrual hut, but she could hear the people speaking of the arrival of a handsome young man, and looked outside. The old chief gave the visitor some soup of animal blood. It was hot, and the dung-man, who was frozen stiff, knew what would happen if he drank it.1 The chief asked him, “Where do you come from ? ” “ From far away.” ‘ ‘ How many people live there ? ’ ’

“A great many.” “What are their names?” “One of the chiefs is called Standing-Hat, another Lie-do wn-on-the-ground, a third is called Quick and another Big-Ball.” 2 As the dung-man was sitting in the camp, he got heated and softened. He could not stay within, so he excused himself, saying, “I will go out to chase some elk now.”' In going away, he passed the girl’s hut, threw a little stick at its cover, and walked off. When the girl looked outside, he ran back and spoke to her. The girl said to her mother, “This young man has asked me to go home with him.” She put all her belongings in a little sack, put it under her arm, and ran after her lover. Looking back, the dung could see her following. A warm mountain wind came, and he began to melt. The girl, tracking him, found one of his otterskin gloves on the ground, put it on, and found it filled with dung. “This young man’s gloves are full of excrements,” she said to herself. She

1 Cf. Knud Rasmussen, The People of the Polar North (Philadelphia, 1908), pp. 104-105.

2 These terms were explained to be descriptive of faeces.

164 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

found his moccasins in the same condition. At last, she caught up to hei suitor. He was lying on the ground with his face down, all melted by the heat. His clothes were fine, but they only covered dung. The girl went home crying. When she got near her camp, she began to sing, I ha\e followed my own excrements.”

14. The Giants.1

Seven young men were living together in a lodge. One day all of them went out in search of game. While they were resting near a hill, one of them went over the hill and did not return. Another went after him, and also disappeared. A third man went to look, for his lost companions, but did not come back. Then the fourth youth said, “I am going to look; if anyone has killed them, I will kill him.” So he went to the summit, and there he beheld some shining object on a high cut-bank. He could not resist, but was drawn on by the reflection. Though he sat down and tried to hold himself down by the grass, the reflection pulled him along, the faster the nearer he got. At last he bumped against something. It was a spear, which caught him by his clothes. There he hung until a very large man came along the coulee, packing something on his back. When close to his captive he said, “ My spear does good work for me, it has killed another man for me, I’ll take him home.” He tried to release the impaled youth, but his prisoner clung tight, so the giant took a club to maul his head. The young man said, "No, you will spoil him by shedding his blood.” The giant said, “That is so, I did not think of that.” So he plucked out the spear with his prisoner and wrapped him up in a blanket in order to suffocate him. But the man said, “No, let him thrust his head outside, so the people can look at him alive.” So the giant carried him on his back. In passing through a forest, the captive seized the limb of a tree, hung to it, and then suddenly let it go. He did this several times, and each time the giant thought he had got caught in a tree.

It was getting late. The captive said, “Let this animal rest here, you are tired. Hang him up on a tree and get him to-morrow.” “Yes, I did not think of that.” The giant followed his prisoner’s directions and set him on a tree. As soon as he was gone, the youth unwrapped himself, covered a log with the blanket, and put dirt and rotten wood inside the covering. He also took the spear and sat down near the top of the tree. The next day the giant came after him, accompanied by his wife and child. The woman picked up wood and built a fire. When the fire was started, the giant

1 Ft,. Ri Iknap

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reached for the blanket, chopped up the log, and threw it into a pot of boiling water. The foam rose and was taken for grease, which the cannibals rubbed on their lips. They began to eat the rotten wood. Suddenly the young man cried, “Are you not going to take the man down?” The giant said, “That’s the man I put up there.’ The youth said, “You must look at your man, or he will fly away.” He threw a handful of mud into the giant’s eyes, so he could not see. Then he seized the spear, and stabbed him. The giant fell to the ground. His wife laughed. She asked her son, “What shall we do ? Let us go home and have the other people decide wrhat to do.” They went home. The giant rose with the spear sticking in his head, and followed. When he reached his lodge, they unpinned the front of the cover, so that he was able to enter with his spear. The wise men of the tribe called to cure him, but no one knew how to remove the barbed spear.

At last one man said, “Call Inkton'mi, he seems to know everything.” So they called him. The chief said, “You are wise, examine this man, and save him.” Inkton/mi went into the lodge, and looked at him. His wife told him what had happened. He said, “You should have called me imme¬ diately. You may still save him, but there is only one way. Get a small hatchet, lay him flat on his back, and drive pegs through his feet so he won’t slide. If one of you says, ‘Hit him hard,’ you will kill him. Knock the spear through his anus.” He went out. He knew the patient had a good horse. While he was gone, one giant drove the spear in, killing the patient. After a while Inkton'mi came back. He said, “Why did you not drive it all in and pull it out of his anus ? You have killed him by not obeying me, and I shall kill you.” The people began to coax him, and gave him the giant’s best horse. While leading it off, Inkton/mi said, “I don’t care how many giants are killed, provided I get a horse.”

Late that evening, the young man descended from the tree and walked towards the giants’ camp. When it was quite dark, he arrived there. He walked on, listening carefully. In one lodge he heard many girls playing. Approaching from the rear, he cut a hole in the tipi-cover, and saw a woman. Erectam mentulam in tentorii orificium inseruit. The inmates of the lodge all smelt something. “Something has peeped in that smells like a ruminant (fa).” All went out. The young man ran away, pursued by the women. He stopped at one lodge, peeped in, and found a giantess with her child. He entered and sat beside her. She said, “ Here is a ruminant,” and looked for her ax, but he said, “No, I am your brother.” She believed him, opened a buffalo parfleche, and, taking out wild turnips and sarvis berries, cooked a soup and served it to her visitor, calling him her brother. In the evening, her husband came home, unsaddled his horse, and made a noise, “Oh!” showing how tired he was. “Here’s a ruminant for me,” he said, when he

166

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

saw the youth. “No, that’s my brother.” The giant recognized him as his brother-in-law, pulled out flannel, a white blanket, a new muzzle-loader, a bow and arrows, and presented them to his visitor. 1 he young man made himself leggings of the flannel, and a white coat of his blanket. Then he went to stand outside the lodge. Inkton,mi, hearing about him, came and said, “ Brother, come to my lodge.” Then everyone said he was Inkton'mi’s brother. Inkton'mi gave him the dead giant’s horse, some white blankets, and a new muzzle-loader, and bade him stay with him tor some time, dhe youth remained there for a few days, then he returned to his “sister.” The “sister” told him he had better go away, as the giants might kill him. If he went, she would get him food for the journey. So she prepared some corn, both loose and on the cob, and got him pemmican and other victuals. Inkton'mi said, “Brother, when you leave the camp, don’t look back until you have passed to the other side of the hill.” The young man went, but he thought he would look back anyway. But as soon as he turned around, something drew him back to the camp he had left. His “sister” said, “A ou were told not to turn back. Eat some corn when you start again, but don’t look back.” He obeyed this time, and did not turn around until he had crossed the hill. He got to the place he had started from. He found his three lost brothers there, and told them his story.

15. The Old Husband and the Young Lover.

(a)

An old woman’s grandson desired to steal the youngest of another man’s four wives. The old man was a great dreamer. The boy went to his camp at night and eloped with the woman coveted. The husband dreamt what was happening, woke up, and gave chase. When he got close to the fugi¬ tives, they suddenly disappeared, having changed into ants. After looking for them everywhere, the old man went home. When asleep, he again saw them walking, woke up, and pursued them. They disappeared, changing into tall grass. The next time they turned into cottonwoods. When the old man could not find them, he went home again. The lovers went to their old grandmother. The boy was combing his mistress’s hair. When the old man saw this in a dream, he was furious and gave chase once more. rlhey fled. Before going, the youth gave his grandmother some tobacco, bidding her offer it to the old man. When the cuckold arrived, she offered him the tobacco, and while pursuing the lovers he smoked it. For a month he pursued them without overtaking them. The young man, in the mean¬ time, found many horses and made many fine things. He killed a porcupine

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and ordered his wife to make porcupine garments. Out of the animal’s skull-bones he made himself a pipe. One day they heard the sound of shooting and moved towards the marksman, but could not find him. '1 he next morning the boy said, "It is your brother. 1 have dreamt of lnm, and we shall see him.” They moved camp and found the woman’s brother by a lake. The boy lent his brother-in-law a horse, and the latter went to his camp and told the people whom he had met. He returned, saying, ‘ 1 hat old man is there, he may kill you.” Nevertheless, they accompanied him to the camp, and the woman went to her father’s lodge.

The old husband invited both the elopers to his tent, but only his rival went there. He wore his porcupine clothing. The old man filled his pipe, and they smoked. The old man thought he would kill his rival while asleep, but the young man had mysterious power and knew his thoughts. Finally, the old husband said, “I shall give you plenty of food, but if you don’t eat it all up, I will kill you.” He gathered plenty of food, cooked it, and set it before his guest. x\ll his friends were there, while his opponent only had his brother-in-law with him. “To-day we will have a hot sun,” said the youth, snatching up his porcupine garments. Before beginning to eat, he smoked his porcupine pipe. ' Then he went outside and called all the animals to come in and eat. A big bear, a mountain-lion, a wolf, a coyote and a lynx came into the lodge. The old man was terrified. They ate up all the food and walked out again. Then the youth caught the sunbeams and pulled them down like a rope. It was getting hotter all the time. 1 he old man was perspiring. He jumped into the water, but it was boiling hot. ^ The youth told his wife and her brother to put on porcupine clothes. Thus they escaped injury, but the old man and his friends were all burnt up.

(b)

An old man had two wives. One of them was young and the young men were after her, so the old man watched her closely whenever she went to ease herself. One day a young man asked her to elope with him while her husband was sleeping. A big snowstorm arose, and they eloped. After a while, the storm ceased. When the old man woke up, he found his wife gone. He saw the tracks in the snow going down hill. From the lull he saw the youth hugging his wife. He was furious and pursued them, but suddenly their tracks disappeared. They had changed into icicles hanging down from a tree. After a while, they traveled on. He pursued them again, but again they turned into icicles. He walked back and saw them once more. They were camping in the brush and had made a fire. He caught up to them, took off their clothes, extinguished their fire, and left them to

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

perish in the cold. Then he went home with their clothes. As soon as he was gone, the young man went off for a while and soon returned with plenty of clothing, which he had found on the other side of the hill, lhus they did not freeze. The old husband dreamt about his victims and saw that they were well provided with clothes. He went back and took the clothes away once more, heaping them up in a pile before his own lodge. When he woke up, the pile had turned into snow. He went back and found the fugitives clad in their own clothes again. Four times he took their garments away, and each time they recovered their clothes in the same fashion.

After four years had elapsed, the old man met the young one and chal¬ lenged him to a contest. The youth invited him to his lodge. Two big wolves were guarding the door, and within there were two large bears with which the host’s child was playing. The old man drew back when he saw the wolves, but at last he entered. “Sit down by my wife,” said the young man, and his guest took a seat beside his former wife. He desired to go out for micturition, but was afraid of the wolves. The two men agreed to exchange lodges. The young man’s child took away the wolves and bears, and then the old man occupied his rival’s lodge. Thinking that he had great powers, the old man proposed a trial of strength. He put his spear in the fire. The young man said, “Bring your gun here, I should like to see it.” A hen he had brought it, the young man broke it in two and flattened it with his hands. The old man began chewing his spear, but the young man swallowed half of it, pulled it out again, and made a pistol and bullets of it.

I he old man could not take out the spear he was chewing, because by his magic his opponent caused it to stick in his body. The young man went home. The old husband cried for help. When he was nearly dead, his opponent just looked at him, and he was well again and the spear came out. 1 he old man departed, and let the young man alone for a time. After a while, he came again, seeking to kill the youth, but his opponent took two locust-tree (■?) spines and, shooting them into his heart, killed him.

16. Lodge-Boy and Thrown -A way’s Father.

A man was living with his wife, who was pregnant. He had a large supply of dry meat. Once, before starting on a hunt, he said to his wife, If you should hear someone calling you, don’t listen to him. He will call }on f°m times, but don t look at him.” When he was gone, the woman heard someone calling her. The person calling finally asked, “Where is the door of your lodge?” She answered, “You know where it is.” Then the man entered. She offered him food. The stranger said, “That is not the way I am used to eat. Put the food on your belly.” She obeyed, and

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he ate from her belly.1 Then he cut open her belly, pulled out two children from it, then ran around every lodge-post with the woman, went to the fire¬ place, and thence descended underground with her.

When the hunter returned, he found his twin sons crying. He called the wolves, set up a good lodge for them, and bade them guard his children while he went in pursuit of his wife. Then he ran around every lodge-post and descended through the fireplace. After a while he went above ground, and saw lots of people camping by a lake. His wife’s lodge was also there. He went to an old woman’s tent, and asked, “Where is my wife’s lodge?” “Your wife is here, but these people are bad, they will not give her up to you. While you are sleeping, they will try to kill you by the aid of their manitous. They tried, but they could not kill him. The hunter said, “Grandmother, tell those people to let me alone.” The old woman went to them and re¬ turned, saying, “These people want you to swim in the lake.” They stuck a big post in the middle of the lake and told him to dive in, shake the post and return to shore. He went in, did what he was told, and returned in safety. They bade him try again. He dived, and did not come back to the surface all day. The people thought he was drowned, but in the night he returned to the old woman’s lodge. She told him the people were going to cook him. He said, “When I am cooked, take all my bones with some hair, pile them up, cover them with a blanket, and cry, Wake up! Then I’ll wake up again.” His enemies cooked him. The old woman followed his instructions. When the bones were piled up, she cried, Grandson, you are sleeping a long time, wake up! He stood up sound, and said, “I wiH tell you something. When the sun shines into the lodge, you and my wife shall hold my clothes.” Then he went to his enemies’ lodge. The sun shone in. The old woman and his wife held his clothes. He pulled down the sun, it grew hotter, and all his enemies were killed. He took Ins wife home. Their twins were beginning to run about. 1 he woman raised them.

17. The Thunder-Bird.2

(a)

One summer, there were three camps on the margin of a big lake, one was

1 Cf Wissler and Duvall, p. 40 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 280 (Shoshone); Kroeber, (e), p. 78 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 342 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 303 (Crow); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 215 (Omaha); Lasley, p. 176 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 91 (Pawnee), < .,

(e) p. 91 (Wichita). .

2 Ft. Belknap. The idea of an antagonism between Thunder and a water-being occuis

among the Winnebago and Iowa. J. O. Dorsey (b), pp. 424-425. Cf. also Riggs, p. 142 (Dakota); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 73 (Pawnee); Id., (e), p. 102 (Wichita).

Skinner’s field notes, the conception is shared by the James Bay Cree.

According to Mr.

170 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Sioux, and the two others belonged to Assiniboine bands. In the middle of the lake there was an island called “the, old woman’s home.” Once the weather was cloudy. It began to rain and the rolling of thunder was heard. Suddenly a flash of lightning struck the island and lingered there for some time. Something was drawn up from the island. It was an animal w lithing like a snake. The thunder-bird lifted it up to the clouds until its tail dis¬ appeared amidst a peal of thunder. While the monster was borne up, all the on-lookers had their hair standing on end, and the manes of their horses were also bristling up. Anything loose and light was raised in the same way. After the thunderstorm was over, snow fell in the afternoon until it lay knee-deep on the ground. Then all the lake dried up, and all kinds of animals died.

(The narrator afterwards examined the site and found a turtle-skeleton of human size and remnants of some horned animals; the island was cov¬ ered with feathers. The story-teller’s aged mother, who professes to have witnessed the encounter of the thunder-bird with the water-monster, added some particulars. The thunder-bird dropped his enemy three times before finally carrying him up, and each time there dropped a blaze of fire. rlhe snow continued to fall for four days after the contest. A rainbow-like reflection of red, white, and blue streaks was seen on the island, and the clouds overhanging it were shaped like buffalo-horns pointing towards the island.)

(b)1

A man was walking high up in the mountains. He came to Thunder’s house and saw the young bird there. “Where are your parents?” “They are far away, but they will soon be back.” “When are they coming back?” “It is about time for them to be home now.” “I should like to see them from near-by, hide me somewhere.” The young bird hid the man under its wing. The father came in. “Has no one been here?” “No.” “Some one must be here.” “No, no one has come.” “Hold up your wings, let me look under them.” The bird raised its wings. The old Thunder saw the man and threw both him and his son out of the eyrie. “The nest must be cleansed, it smells after a man.” The mother-bird arrived. “Where is our son?” “I have thrown him outside.” The mother-bird went out and brought him in again. The old man said, “You have picked him up again, but you must cleanse the house.”

1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 88 (Gros Ventre); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 30 (Omaha;.

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18. The Women who married Stars.

Two women were in a tipi at night. 1 hey were not asleep, but were looking out of the smoke-hole. The younger one said to her sister, “ 1 wish I could marry that fiery star. You can have the smaller one for a husband. They could see the stars quite close. The older girl said, “Stop talking about the stars, you are crazy.” Still the younger continued, saying, “l should like to marry the larger star, you can have the smaller one. 1 he next dav the camp was moved. The two girls packed their belongings in rawhide bags and slung them on their backs with a shoulder-strap, lhe younger girl’s strap tore, and she was obliged to stop and mend it. I hen her sister’s strap tore, and she had to fix hers. All day long the two gills straps tore alternately, so that they fell behind the rest ot the people. B
night they had not yet caught up, and were obliged to camp by themselves. About midnight two men came to their lodge; one was old, the other was young. “What were you saying last night?” asked the older of the two. The girl did not reply. He asked her again. The fourth time she answered, “We were talking about the stars last night.” “What were you saying about the stars?” “I said I should like to marry the bigger star, and my sister could have the little one.” “lam that bigger star,” said the old man, “you wanted to have me, let us go home now.” The stars took the girls to the sky. The country was fine, but the girls felt lonesome. They were digging tipsi'n roots one day. The star came over and said, “Don t dig near those trees.” When he' had gone away, the younger woman saw some roots near the trees, and said, “I’ll dig the roots over there.” “ Don’t dig them, the star has forbidden it.” The girl would not listen, but began to dig until she had made a large hole. She looked down, saw the earth below, and recognized her own country. She became homesick and began to cry. The older woman asked, “What is the matter?” “Come here and look down.” The other woman looked down, and also fell a-crymg. ^ Spider approached them, and asked, “What are you two crying about?” “We belong down there. Our country is below, it is far off, and we cannot get back.” “You can get back easily; if you wish, you can return home. “Help us, and we’ll be happy.” Spider tied each to a rope, and connected the two ropes with a string. “While you descend, you must shut your eyes. If you feel something, don’t look. Only when you strike the ground, you may open your eves.

Spider began 'to lower them. When the feet of the younger struck something, she opened her eyes, and both were sticking in the fork ot a cottonwood. They could not climb down in any way, and began to cry.

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A wolverene passed by. They called out to him, Sweetheart, help us. The wolverene answered, “ If you two promise to marry me, I shall help you.” They agreed, and the wolverene took them down. They were taken to his house, and saw many good-looking women there, but all had one leg broken. While the wolverene was out hunting, these women told the newcomers to run away because the wolverene would climb up to the smoke-hole and jump down on them, breaking their legs also, in order to prevent them from escaping. They said, “If you see something queer while fleeing, don’t touch it, but keep on running.”

The girls fled. After four nights’ running, they heard a sound, and stopped to listen. They found a nice, fat, clean baby lying on its back, crying. The older girl passed by without paying any attention to it. The younger, however, turned back, saying, “Poor child, I want to take it.” Her sister warned her, but she took the infant, and made it dance up and down. The child moved its feet, and managed to open her dress. “Look, sister, at what the baby is doing.” Again the older warned the younger girl, but in vain. Suddenly the baby turned into the wolverene, and threw the woman on the ground. Tunc major natu puella fuste copulatoris dorsum verberavit. Ille “Vehementius verbera” inquit “ut quam pro- fundissime mentulam inserere possim.” Both girls struggled with him, and finally prevailed, killing him.

Then they went to look for their mother. They struck a river, and saw people passing in canoes. They hailed one man, asking him to ferry them across. He said, “My boat is not good, it is too light, and might upset. The boat behind with a tail at the end is good.” When the boat indicated approached, they asked the man inside to ferry them across. He stopped and allowed them to leap in, but instead of taking them to the opposite bank he followed the course of the other canoes. They got to a place where many people were camping near the bank of the river. These were saying, “Old Diver (cia'ga = hell-diver ?) has brought two women.” Diver pointed behind, and told the women, “That’s not my name, it’s the one behind there they call Diver.”

Diver camped near the rest of the people. In the night he heard the people dancing. He ordered the women not to look at the dance,1 when he went out to see it himself. The younger girl wished to see it, and followed. As a result, she also became a diver. The dancers were ducks and geese. The transformed woman returned to her sister, and said, “Diver is ugly, let us flee. In their places they put bees and ants, covering them up with blankets; then thev ran away.

For the following incidents, cf. Riggs, p. 149 (Dakota) and Dorsey and Kroeber, p 272 (Arapaho).

1909.]

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173

Diver came home after the dance. He called the younger girl. “Wake up, I wish to go to bed.” There was no answer. At last he picked up a blanket, and covered himself with it. After a while he felt the ants beginning to bite him, but thought it was merely the girls pinching him. He moved to the older girl’s couch, and saying, “I’ll sleep with both,” extended his arms, as though to embrace both women. Then the bees began to buzz, and bit his face and body.

Diver was angry, and began to pursue the fugitives. The women got thirsty and lay down on their bellies to drink water. Diver got into the water, and killed them with his bow and arrows. When he got home, the people asked, “Where are those two women ?” He replied that he had been unable to find them. After some time the people detected the corpses. Diver feigned great grief. He stayed by a lake, and moaned, lhat is vh
the divers make such mournful sounds to-day. He killed an animal, cut out its guts, filled them with blood, and carried them home. The people looking at him said, “Perhaps he will commit suicide, he feels so lonesome.” When at a distance, he pierced the guts with an arrow. The people saw the blood oozing, and said, “He is killing himself now.” 1 Diver plunged into the water, and came up unseen near the shore of a distant lake. But the next day he was heard saying, “ I have killed my wives myself.” The people said, “He killed those two handsome women. We shall kill him.” They had a council to decide how they had best dispatch him. They could not approach him, because he was hiding in a large lake. At last they said, “Let Tosna' (some kind of shell-fish) drink up all the water in the lake.” Tosna' commenced to drink, until he swelled to the size of a hill. The people said, “Look at Tosna', he is getting big.” MnDku'n (a bird) was there. Tosna' had drunk up nearly all the water; there was just a little left in the middle of the lake, and there Diver became visible now. All the people tried to kill him with stones. Then Mninku'n broke Tosna' s shell. Be¬ fore Diver could be killed, Tosna' disgorged all the water back into the lake,

and Diver escaped.2

i In an Albany Cree tale taken down by Mr Skinner, Diver, after killing his brother,

version resembles that of the Micmae. Cf. Rand, ^ of the Micmac (New York-London, 1894) pp. 160, et seq., 306 etseq. The corresponding bhuswap tile (Teit, p. 687) introduces the wolverene as a character, but m a different connection and the other incidents also differ. The girls' cannibal husband is said, feet in order to test their fatness. The widespread initial incident is found in Wis.sler ud p 58 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 100 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and I vroeber p : *1™*°) Simms, p. 301 (Crow); Riggs, p. 90 (Dakota); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 60 (Pawnee), Id., (d), p. (Arikara); Id., (e), p. 298 (Wichita).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV.

19. Ball-Girl.1

i

In a camp there lived a brother and sister. The girl took care of her brother, cooking and making clothes and beadwork for him. I hey lived together for a long time. When the boy was older, he said, Sister, I am old enough now, we must part. I’ll tell you what to do. There is a camp near those trees, and within there dwells an old man with his ten sons. To-morrow one will come for you; follow him up to the lodge. Before he enters, catch hold of his robe and enter with him.” The next day there came a young man while the boy was hunting. The girl served him some food. When through eating, he offered to marry her and bade her follow him. She got her best clothes and work-bag, and followed him. When they got close to his camp, he quickened his pace. She ran behind him, but just as he was entering she looked back to see how far she had traveled. He entered, and she did not catch hold of his robe. She followed, and looked around for her husband, but all the ten young men were dressed alike and looked alike. At the right side of the door an old man was sitting. She thought the young man next to him was her husband and sat down beside him, but he declared it was not he that had brought her there. She sat beside the second, third, fourth and fifth son, and each refused to recognize her as his wife.

She gave up hope, and sat down by the entrance. It was getting dark. The old man said, “Sons, you had better go to bed, I want to tell my daugh¬ ter-in-law a story.” They all went to bed. He began as follows. “There was a camp, where a brother and sister were living together. One day the boy told the girl of an old man who had ten sons, one of whom would take her home. Her brother bade her seize this man’s blanket when he would enter his lodge, but she did not do so. When she entered, all the sons looked alike. She sat by the first young man and he would not recognize her as his wife, then she sat by the second, third, fourth and fifth young man, and none would have her.” Then he continued, “Her blanket must disappear.” And the young woman’s blanket was gone. “Her work bag must disappear.” And her work bag was gone. In the same way her moccasins, leggings, and dress disappeared. Then he said, “Now I wish a blizzard would come and my sons would thrust her out.” The blizzard came, and they ousted her from the lodge. She wanted to re-enter, but they would not allow it. She cried for her brother to help her. He appeared and gathered up her clothes, she dressed, and they went home together.

I he boy said to his sister, “Another man will come from the same place.

1 Ft. Belknap.

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Treat him as you did the first, and follow him. V\ hen he gets to the camp, stand outside after he has entered. If anyone from inside calls you, go in and sit by the old man.” She obeyed, and again looked for her suitor, and, not finding him among the first five sons, she sat down by the door. 1 hen she said, ‘‘Let all the sons go to bed, 1 will tell a story. 1 lie old man was surprised, but told all the young men to go to bed. Then she began. 1 here

was a lodge inhabited by a boy and his sister, and in another camp there dwelt an old man with his ten sons. One day one of the young men came to woo the girl and brought her home. Her brother had told her to seize his robe when entering, but she disobeyed. She could not pick out Ik i suitor and was refused by each of the first five sons. She sat back and said that she wished some one to go out and get more wood to put into the fire. One of the young men rose and did so. Then she said, ‘ I wish he would get lost.” And he got lost. The next son went out. She said, “ I wish he would get lost.” And he got lost. In the same way she caused nine of the sons to get lost. At last the youngest said, ‘ I was the one that brought you home the first time.” She said, ‘‘I wish you would go out and put more wood into the fire.” The fire was blazing. She said, “I wish the old man would sit in front of me to shield me from the heat of the fire.” He took his knife and sat down in front of her. She said ‘‘All the old man’s sons are lost, except the youngest.” Then she said she was too warm, and suddenly pushed him into the fire. Seizing his knife, she disappeared underground

and went back to her brother’s lodge.

She told her brother how she had killed the old man and his sons. He said, “We must flee. If the old man returns to life, he will pursue us. They fled to a big rock, lifted it and both went down, after replacing it. As soon as they were inside, the old man got to the rock. He was looking for their tracks, but could not find out where they were. He walked back to his own lodge, thinking that his sons might have been transformed into bugs. He could not find any of them and began to cry. The girl peeped out from the rock and listened to his crying. Then she said to her brother. “Do you go far away north. You must find Inkton'm\ then you will be safe ‘ I shall go east.” They lifted the rock and separated. She dived into the ground and came up again. She saw the old man pursuing her vowing that he would kill her. When he got close, she went underground again" She did this four times. After the fourth time, she noticed buffalo ahead of her. She had made a ball with quills representing the cardinal directions, while the center stood for the sun and stars. She ran towards the buffalo. They shied and fled. She took out her ball and showed it to them then they waited for her. They looked at the ball. She laid it on the ground, then they could not move. She killed the biggest buffalo and

176 Anthropological Papers American Museum of A atural Aistory. [\ ol. II ,

cut it up into seven pieces. In the meantime, her pursuer caught up, crying, “Ball-Girl, I have caught you, I will kill you!” 'When he was quite close, she said she was butchering buffalo to give him food. “ 1 hat is what I want, I am hungry.” “Well, open your mouth.” He opened it wide. She threw in the quarters, and he swallowed them. Then she threw in the other pieces, one by one, and he swallowed them. His stomach began to bulge, his mouth was getting smaller. She kept the head for the last. “Open your mouth wide,” she said; “if you don’t eat it, I’ll kill you.” He tried to open his mouth wide, but there was only room for the nose; the horns got caught. She saw he could not swallow the piece. Picking up her ball, she hit him three times over the head with it. The fourth time the ball rolled off backwards along the ground. The earth split along its path, and the old man fell in, crying that his sons would rise and kill her. Then she took the ball, threw it up, and kicked it. She rose up into the air. Nine of the voting men came up from the ground in the shape of wolves, running around the buffalo and scenting her tracks. But she rose higher and higher to the sky and escaped.1

20. Morxixg-Star.2

A man and his wife were camping by themselves. She was pregnant. While her husband was away, another man would come and embrace her. Her lover wished to elope with her, but he did not like to take her with the baby in her womb. So he once entered her lodge and said, “I want to eat food from your belly.” She asked, “How shall I sit?” “Lie down on your back, and place the dish on your belly.” She obeyed. When he was done eating, he stuck a knife into her, and took out the child, which he left in the lodge.

Then the lovers fled underground, entering the earth under the fireplace. When the woman’s husband returned, he found the child’s body, and saw that his wife was gone. He split trees and dried up the creeks where he thought she might have fled. When the lovers came above ground again, he tracked them. They turned into snakes and crawled into a hollow tree. He followed in pursuit, and saw the snakes, but did not recognize them as the fugitives. He thought the lovers had gone up the tree. He climbed up, but could not find them. At last he climbed higher still, reached the skv, and became the Morning-Star.

1 It was not definitely stated that she became a star.

2 Yexi’angEn ye' a a'mba tube', literally, Star-shining-daylight-ehases.

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21. The Seven Stars.1

There were seven youths on this world; one of them was red-haired. They did not know whether they had any parents. They were having a hard time of it. “What shall we turn into ?’’ they asked one another. One said, “Let us change into the earth.” The one named the Wise-One (Ksa'be) said, “No, verily the earth is mortal, it gets caved in (?).” Then another one said, “Let us become rocks.” “No, they are destructible, they all break asunder.” A third one said, “We must change into big trees, into very big ones.” “No, they are perishable; when there is a storm, they are blown down.” Again one of them said, “ Let us change into water.” “No, it is destructible, it dries up completely.” The fifth said, “Let us change into the night.” “No, the night is fleeting, soon the light appears again.” The sixth boy said, “Let us be the day.” “No, it is fleeting; when the sun disappears, it is dark once more.” The Wise-One said, “No, the blue sky above is never dead, it is always in existence. Shining things live there. Such we shall change into. In that region let us dwell.’ Well, so they do. The smallest of them took them up, hoisting them by means of his spider-web. He set three on one side and three on the other, seating himself in the middle. When the last one had gotten up, he tore the web in the middle, threw it down, and gave it to the spider.

22. The Dipper.2

A woman had illicit intercourse with a snake. Her husband once watched her as she was fetching firewood. She pounded a tree-stump, and from its hollow a snake came out. rl he man decided to kill his wife. He went on a hunt, killed a moose, and returned in a zigzag line. Ihen he told his wife to fetch the meat, following his track. The woman obeyed. In the meantime, the husband went to the tree, killed all the snakes, gathered their blood in a cup, and boiled soup from it. When his wife returned, he gave her the soup. After she had swallowed it, he told her it was the snakes’

1 Obtained as a text at Ft. Belknap.

2 This tale may be resolved into the following elements: A, snake-paramour, B, rolling head- C magic flight; D, crane-bridge; E, ball-game before transformation into stars. A occurs in’ Russell, p. 202 (Cree); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); Wissler, (c), p. 195 (Dakota); Schoolcraft, p. 265 (Ojibwa). B is found in Maclean, p. 71 (Cree); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 13 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 185 (Cheyenne); Wissler, (c), p. 195 (Dakota); Schoolcraft, p. 265 (Ojibwa); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 116 (Pawnee). For C, compare Maclean, p. 71 (Cree), Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 13 (Arapaho); Wissler, (c) p. 195 (Dakota); Schoolcraft, p. 249 (Ojibwa); G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 117 (Pawnee). D occurs in Maclean, p. 72 (Cree); Lowie, p 254 (Shoshone), Schoolcraft, p. 267 (Ojibwa); G. A. Dorsey (a), p. 117 (Pawnee). E is shared among others by the Gros Ventre, Kroeber, (e), p. 108; and the Arapaho, Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 238.

178 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

blood. She started towards the tree and found all the snakes dead. She

• 4 was furious.

The couple had seven children, one of whom was a girl. The man bade them flee. They ran away, while he stayed in the lodge, having fastened the door-flap. He heard the woman approaching with yells. When she stuck her head inside, he cut it off with a bone knife. The head began to roll after the children, caught them, and carried them to a tipi, where they lived together. One of the boys once killed a moose and was stretching the skin. The head went out to scrape it, warning the children not to look at it. One of the boys wanted to look out, though another boy warned him. He insisted, and his brother finally yielded, saying, ell, then look at our mother.” The head knew the boy was peeping out, and said, “I will kill all my children.” The children ran away, pursued by their mother’s head.

The girl had an awl. She gave it to her brother, who threw it behind them. A great number of awls sprang up, and the head could not get across the points. After three days, it managed to get through, and again pursued the children. The girl gave her brother a little piece of flint. He threw it behind them, and a big fire started up. The head was burnt in the fire, all its hair being singed off. After a long while, it got through the fire and continued the pursuit. When it came near, the sister gave her brother a piece of rock. When he threw it behind them, it turned into a big mountain. The head could not get over it at first, but finally it passed across. I he children came to a deep river. Two cranes were standing there. Ihe boys said, “Let us travel across your necks to the other side.” The birds allowed them to cross. Then the children asked them not to allow their mother to cross. When the head came and had passed to the middle of the crane’s neck, the bird threw it into the water.

After a while, the head got out again and started after the children. The sister made a ball and said, “Let us play ball.” They stood in a circle and threw the ball to one another. While doing so, they rose to the sky and became the Dipper. The head could not jump high enough to reach them.1

1 Another narrative consists exclusively of the details of the snake-paramour episode and the husband’s revenge: A man was staying with his wife and children. For a long time, they remained in the same place. The woman used to dress up carefully, combing her hair with great nicety. Her husband was wondering for whom she dressed up like that. He killed a moose one day and in the morning bade her fetch the meat. The woman said, “ I will first fetch the wood.” ‘‘No, it is a long way off, get the meat as soon as possible.” The woman finally obeyed. The man searched for her tracks when she went for wood. They led him to a big stump with a little round hole. He, returned home and brought a sharp knife and a cup with him. He pounded the tree. A snake came out, and he killed it. He left its body hanging half-way out of the hollotv, and gathered up the blood in his cup. He made soup of it. When his wife returned, she quickly unpacked the meat and wanted to go for firewood. Her husband said, ‘‘First eat this soup.” ‘‘No, I’ll get wood first.” “No, you had better eat first.” At last, she knelt, and gulped it down. The man said, “This is your lover’s blood.” The woman ran screaming to the stump. When she saw the snake’s corpse, she cried, “Wherever you go, I will kill you.” The man shut the lodge-door. When his wife opened it, sticking in her head, he cut it off.

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23. The Bear-Woman.1

(a)

A woman had daily intercourse with a bear. The people found out about it, and killed the bear. His wife was angry. She asked the people to give her a piece of the bear’s leg-skin. Out of this she made a complete skin, covered herself with it, and killed all the people except her parents and sister. A strong man tried to kill her, and hit her in several places, nevertheless she remained unhurt. Her young sister asked, “How is it that you did not get hurt?” “I can only be hurt in the right paw.” Two of the bear-woman’s brothers were out hunting. Returning home, they found all the people killed. Their little sister told them their older sister had slain them all. The bear was sleeping at this time. The girl said, “If you cut her right paw, you will kill her.” One of the boys stuck his arrow in her paw and killed her. Then he took out her heart, dried it in the sun, pul¬ verized it, and sprinkled some of the powder on each of the fireplaces of the slain people. Then they all woke up again.

(b)

Some girls were playing. Another girl came along and was invited to join them. “No, I don’t like to play.” At last, however, she consented, saying, “Well, I will play, but don’t play with my anus.” They began to play. As they were playing, the girl got bigger and bigger. The others began to tease her. She got more and more like a bear. Some of the girls ran away, but she killed them. The people in the camp shot at her, but could not kill her; she killed all of them. Her young sister hid in a dog¬ house. At last, the bear-woman found her. The girl cried, “Don’t kill me, I’ll fetch water for you and comb your hair.” So the bear spared her, and they lived together. During all this time, their four brothers were away. The bear used to abuse her sister and make her work hard. One day she said, “Get wood for me.” The girl went out and met her four brothers. They gave her a rabbit, but she was afraid to take it, because the bear would ask her whence she had obtained it. The brothers said, “Place the rabbit down there and hit it. When she asks you how you killed it, tell her you did it that way. Also find out which is her vulnerable spot.” When the girl came home with the rabbit, her sister asked, “Where did you get that

1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 68 (Blackfoot); Kroeber, (e), p. 105 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 238 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 312 (Crow); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 292 (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (e), p. 69 (Wichita)

180 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

rabbit ” “I killed it myself.” “How did you do it ? Let me see. The girl then showed her, hitting the rabbit in the eye. The girl then asked her where she was vulnerable. The bear said, “ If my toes are wounded, I shall die.” The girl went and told her brothers, who asked her to put a stick under the bear’s toes while she was sleeping. She obeyed. Then the best marksman among them shot an arrow at each toe, thus killing the bear. They cut her to pieces, heaped up firewood, and burnt her up. Then they pounded up the bones, and sprinkled the powder on every fireplace. Then the boys shot arrows into the air, crying to the dead, “Look out for the arrows, run away!” Then all awoke and ran away.1

24. Burr-Woman.2

Long ago, there lived a very handsome youth. All the girls \icrc eagei to marry him, but he did not care for women. There was a good-looking girl who was living with her grandmother. She proposed to the youth, but he refused to marry her. The girl returned and complained to her grand¬ mother. The old woman was angry, and said, “Let me stay behind when the camp moves.” When the camp was broken, the old woman remained in the rear. The men went out to hunt. She allowed them to pass without saying anything. At last, when the young man came, she asked him to pack her on his back. “Why do you ask me to do this ! I am unable to walk. Carry me on your back and put me off near the camp.” Finally, the youth consented and carried her near the camp. There he tried to set her down, but she stuck tight. He tried to throw her off, running against trees, but she still stuck to him. When he saw he could not get her off, he began to cry. Some women, hearing the noise, ran up to see what was the matter. When they tried to pull her off, the hag cried, “Don’t bother me, I am his wife.” They could not get her down; they went to the youth’s father and told him what had happened. The old man said, “Whoever pulls off the old woman, may marry my son.” A number of women tried, but all failed. Whenever they caught hold of her, the old woman cried, “Let me alone, I am married to him.” There were two good-looking girls

1 A third Stoney version combining elements of the two other variants closes as follotvs: They shot at her toe, but missed it. She pursued them. “I'll kill you, wherever you go.” The girl said, “Let us make a ball out of this piece of a robe.” She made a ball and told her brothers to stand in a circle and play ball. They threw it to one another, and ascended to the sky, forming the Dipper.

Cf. Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 238, also the story of The Dipper in this paper, p. 177.

2 This story was said to symbolize the tenacity of the frog’s nuptial embrace. Cf. J. O. Dorsey (d), p. 215 (Omaha); Lasley, p. 177 (Fox); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 95 (Ankara); Id., (a) p. 87 (Pawnee).

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who did not sav anything, but thought they could rid the youth of his burden. They went there and found him lying on his stomach. One went on either side. They began to pull. Four times they pulled, and the last time they pulled the old woman off, whereupon they killed her. The youth’s back had been fouled by the woman’s urine. They washed him, and doctored him in a sweat-lodge. Thus they restored him to his former condition. When he was clean again, they had him for a husband.

25. The Snake-Man.1

(a)

Two men were traveling together for a long time. They were away from camp all summer. One day they reached a big mountain. A large snake was lying in their path. They could not but cross it. One said, “Let us burn the middle part of its body.” They built a fire, and thus burnt themselves a passage. One of them said, “Let us eat the part of the body that has been cooked by our fire.” His comrade tried to dissuade him, but his friend cut off a slice and began to eat. After eating a large piece, he was ready to go on. On the fifth day after this adventure his body, from his feet to his knees, was changed into the skin of a yellow snake. The next night he was a snake up to his waist. The next night all his body up to his breasts was that of a snake. His companion was frightened and ran away, but the snake-man ran with him. They lay down to rest again. The next morning the snake-man roused his friend. “ Sit up, I have become a different being.” His friend saw that he had turned into a large snake just like that which had lain in their path. The snake-man said, “Go home, I am going to stay in this river,” and plunged into the water.

One day, Thunder wished to kill this snake, but he could not find it. He only found turtles on the bank, which had developed from the spots on its skin.

(b)

Two men were traveling together. About noon they were getting hungry and tired. One of them said, “We had better turn back.” On their return walk they saw something in front of them. It was a piece of burnt snake- meat. One of them said, “It looks like good meat, let us eat of it.” His comrade said, “No, the old people say it is bad. Nevertheless, the man picked up a piece and ate it. They passed on. After sunset the snake-

i Maximilian, II, p. 185 (Mandan); p. 230 (Hidatsa). Cf. further: Kroeber, (e) p. 116 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 150 (Arapaho); Simms, p. 296 (Crow); J. O. Dorsey, (d), p. 322 (Omaha); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 78 (Ankara).

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eater said, “One of my toes is getting white.” The next day there were white spots all over his feet. He gradually, became white up to his knees and waist. Later, he became white up to his mouth. Finally, he turned into a big snake, and said, “Friend, you had better go home, I’ll stay in this river.” His comrade returned to camp, and told the people what had

happened.

The snake man’s younger brother was getting lonesome. . He was always lamenting the loss of his brother. Once he walked up a hill, crying. The Thunder asked him, “My grandchild, why are you crying?” “My brother is gone, and I am lonesome.” “You cannot see your brother now, but come home with me. My tail-feathers are spread out, you can sit on them.” Thus he carried the boy up a steep mountain to his house. The boy saw a pile of bones. He thought to himself, “I never eat this kind of meat.” Thunder sent him away to hunt. When he returned, he cooked and ate the game. Thunder said, “You see people’s bones here, they are my children’s. Some being that is all iron, except for its mouth, has slain them. If you kill this monster, I will help you to get back your brother.” The boy said, “ If you can’t kill it, I am surely too weak.” At last he said, ‘ I need a bow and two arrows, one larger than the other. 1 liunder bade him get feathers and elk sinew, and himself got willow sticks. 1 he boy made arrows out of them, but he could not get feathers. Thunder then plucked out some of his own wing feathers. When the boy was ready, Ihunder said, It is time for the ogre to come.’ A loud noise was heard. I hat is the one that has slain my sons.” Again the noise was heard. 1 he boy prepared his arrows. The monster just showed his eyes in the west. W hile he was looking around, the boy who was holding the arrows in his mouth shot him, striking his heart. He rolled down like a mountain. Then Thunder split him in two with his lightning. “Now I will help you to see your brother, said Thunder. “I see him in the middle of the river as a big snake, but when I approach he will make himself little.” He put the boy under his tail feathers, and they flew to the river. They saw a big snake there, but as they approached it grew small. When they got quite close, nothing could be seen but a turtle. The boy said, “ All I can see is a turtle. ’ 1 bun¬

der said, “Stand close to it, I’ll go away, then you will see your brother.” When he had flown away, the turtle stood up as a man. “Thunder is bad, he kills people. I never kill anyone.” The boy rejoiced to see his brother again, and they went home together.

(c)

Sitcon/ski was living alone on the earth. He was young and handsome,

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and was the best hunter. He declared, “My name shall be Caribou.” He went out hunting once while it was raining and hailing. He killed and skinned a buffalo. Suddenly Thunder took him away to his lodge on a mountain top. There were people’s bones there, belonging to Thunder’s children. Thunder said, “Watch my young ones. I don’t wish to lose them all, when the ogre comes.” The ogre was all iron, except at the neck and mouth. Caribou said, “I need two arrows.” Thunder brought him the arrows and departed. After a while, Caribou heard something coming. When it came close, the clanking of iron was heard. He could see the head of the ogre. It was horned and had a face both in front and in the back. When it lay down near the eyrie, Caribou shot it twice in the neck and killed it. When Thunder returned, he was very glad. He rolled the ogre’s corpse down a mountain, breaking it in two. Then he took C aribou home. The people had heard the sound of the ogre rolling down the hill. Caribou told them what he had done. Then the hill was named Two-Faces-Broken- in-Two.

Caribou once asked a man to take a walk with him. 1 hey traveled together for ten days. One morning, they saw something lying in their path. It was a big snake, looking like a hill. Caribou said, “We can’t cross. We’ll have to burn the snake.” So they burnt it up and cooked it. Caribou wanted to eat the meat. His comrade tried to dissuade him, but Caribou tasted a piece and found it sweet. His comrade also tasted some, but did not like it, and went home, followed by this friend. In the evening they built a fire. Caribou said, “ I am queer.” He began to look like a snake. The other man was scared. He did not sleep, but kept walking all the night. The next day Caribou’s skin was almost completely like a snake’s. Both were tired and went to sleep by a river. Suddenly Caribou roused his companion, “Wake up, I am queer, I have turned into a big snake. Go home to tell the people. I shall watch this river. If anyone crosses it, he must first throw in some gift. Unless he does so, I shall devour him. Then Caribou dropped into the river.

Thunder wished to kill the snake, but could not catch it. It would disappear or turn into a turtle. Thunder asked for the assistance ot ( ari¬ bou’ s friend. This man made many little frogs, which killed the turtle.

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches.1 2

Two bad old women used to sleep together. Whenever anyone came

1 The demand for sacrifices mentioned in the myth, and the actual offering of such to the serpent among the Mandan and Hidatsa, is vouched for by Maximilian.

2 Cf. Riggs, p. 140, (Dakota), and the last paragraph with The False Comrade, p. 205. The motive occurs in James Bay Cree mythology (Skinner).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

to the door, they asked him to sit down inside. When the visitors tried to pass out again, the women, who had awls at their elbows, would pierce and kill the people with them. Once a man came to the door. “Grand¬ mothers, I wish to visit you, but you must sit back to back and must not look at me.” Then he rolled up his blanket, saying, “ I will sit in the middle.” But instead of sitting between them, he merely put his blanket in. When the witches thought he was there, they tried to pierce him, but only stabbed and killed each other.

These women also had bad medicine tied up with pointed sticks. If they wished to kill anyone, they just unwrapped the stick and touched the person with it, and he would turn into a rotten stick. 4 hey also had another medicine for disenchanting their victims. The man who killed them touched them with their bad medicine to make sure they would not recover.

27. The Comrades’ Pranks.1

(a)

Two boys were living together as comrades. They said to their parents, “We will go to look for people.” The father of one of them raised objections, but the other consented, and they went away. On the third night of their journey one of them said, “Let us sleep in separate shelters.” “Don’t say that, comrade.” “Yes, we shall camp apart.” They built a fire and camped apart. Before going to bed, the one who objected to camping by himself heard the noise of chopping outdoors. It was a dark night. He went out quietly and saw his companion sharpening his legs to a point. He got scared and ran away, pursued by Sharpened-Leg. He climbed up a tree. Sharpened-Leg said, “Now I shall catch you, comrade.” He kicked the tree, splitting it in two. It came tumbling down. He kicked his com¬ rade repeatedly, piercing him, but not killing him. Finally, he cured him again.

They traveled on together. That night the man who had fled proposed that they camp apart. In the night, Sharpened-Leg heard snorting outside. Looking out, he saw that his partner had turned into a large buffalo. He was scared and ran away, chased by the bull. On account of his sharpened legs he could not run very fast. He climbed a tree. The bull hooked it until it tumbled down. Then he hooked Sharpened-Leg again and again, ripping every part of his body and nearly killing him. At last, he let him alone.

i This theme is very popular among the Stoneys. Several versions were obtained The SharpenedrLeg incident occurs both in other combinations {ante. p. 118) and as a distinct story (p. 186). Cf. Dorsey and ICroeber, p. 257 (Arapaho).

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They traveled on. At nightfall, Sharpened- Leg said, “ I wish to urinate.” He went outside and turned into a big elk. The buffalo-man was scared and fled, screaming. When the elk was close to him, the buffalo man climbed a tree. The elk uprooted the tree, and repeatedly knocked down the buffalo-man, nearly killing him. At last, it ceased, and made him well again.

The next night when they went to camp, the buffalo-man said, “Let us camp apart.” In the night Sharpened Leg heard a bear growling. He fled, but a grizzly pursued him. He climbed a tree. The bear followed. Both fell down, and the bear bit off half of his companion’s nose. Finally he restored him.

Sharpened- Leg said, “ I am afraid, let us stop this now, let us be friends again.” “No, you were the one to begin.” “Let us stop now.” “No, let us try once more.” Sharpened-Leg begged him to desist, and finally his companion consented. They resolved to live together as friends. If you try again,” said the bear-man, “I shall kill you. Now get your feet again.” Sharpened-Leg found them, but could not put them on, so the bear-man set them for him. Then they traveled on in peace.

(&)

A man living far south dreamt of a man in the north and wished to be¬ come his comrade. He went in search of him, and they set out traveling together. The Southerner killed a bear and ate its tongue. He said to his companion, “ Run away now, something queer has happened.” He changed himself into a bear and pursued his friend, who fled in terror. The fugitive fell down. The bear just played with him without biting him, then he turned into a man again. The Northerner killed a buffalo and ate its tongue. He turned into a buffalo and pursued his friend, hooking him so as merely to rip his clothes. After a while, he let him alone and resumed human

shape.

They traveled on for a long distance. The Southerner killed a moose. “We’ll make two fires in the night,” he said. He gave halt the meat to his comrade. They ate without talking. They began cracking the bones for marrow. Then they counted how many bones each had cracked. The Northerner said, “Ihave broken all the bones, give me some marrow. If you won’t, we ’ll play at kicking.” The Southerner got scared ; he chopped off his feet and sharpened his legs. The Northerner saw it and went outside to a tree of his own age to which he said, “ If this man speaks to you, answer, ‘No.’” Then he ran away. Sharpened-Leg came back and said, Let us play at kicking.” The tree repeatedly answered, “No.” After a while,

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV, *

Sharpened-Leg went to his comrade’s lodge and only found a stump there. He was angry, split the tree, and pursued his companion, holding his feet in his arms. When he had caught up, the Northerner climbed a tree. Sharpened-Leg began splitting it. The Northerner begged the tree to hold him. It obeyed and Sharpened-Leg, striking the thickest part of the trunk with his sharpened leg, got stuck. Then the Northerner jumped down. Sharpened-Leg asked to be freed, but his comrade refused. At last, he said, “ If I help you, let us stop these pranks altogether.” Sharpened-Leg agreed, then his comrade released him and set his feet for him.

They traveled on. The Northerner had a great deal of power. The Southerner said, “To-day we shall meet many people.” His comrade replied, “I am not afraid of anything; if lots of people come, I have a war- song.” Both of them had rattles. A great many people came their way, and they began to sing. The chief said, “Two friends are coming.” The chief wished to test which of the two was the braver. He put them on horseback and had the horses led to a steep river-bank. When the leg- sharpener got close to the water, he got frightened and caught the line. The other man was not scared at all, but whipped his horse onward. Then the chief declared the Northerner to be the braver of the two.

28. Sharpened-Leg.1

Two young men were living together. One day one of them heard his comrade chopping outside the lodge. He saw that the other man was sharpening his leg to a point, after having chopped off his feet. He was frightened and fled, running for a night and a day. He arrived at some high trees, and climbed up one of them. Sharpened-Leg pursued him. When he got to the tree, he espied his comrade, and fell to kicking the trunk. With a dozen kicks he split the tree, so that it tumbled down. He looked for his former comrade, whom he found lying on the ground. “Why did you run away ? W e used to play together. He kicked his comrade with the point of his leg, and killed him. Then he walked away to some other trees. He began kicking these also, but his leg stuck fast, and he died in this position. W hen the two men did not return to camp, the father of the one slain went to look for them. He got to their lodge, and then followed their tracks until he reached the corpse of Ins son and the tree where Sharp¬ ened-Leg was caught.

Sharpened-Leg was named Canskar (Ground-Hog), and his comrade Umbis'ka (Eagle).

1 Cf. Kroeber, (e), p. 87 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 112 (Arapaho)- Kroeber (d), p. 169 (Cheyenne). ’ ’

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29. The Magic Springs.

An old man was living with his son, his daughter and her husband, who was a great hunter. The two brothers-in-law hunted every day one \ inter, but could not find any tracks. There was a great deal of snow, and the young husband made himself snowshoes. He passed through an unfrozen spring. When he came home, his wife saw blood on his snowshoes. She said, “I am glad you have killed a moose.” ‘‘I have not killed anything,

I have merely stepped into a spring.” The girl paid no attention to him, but told her father, “ My husband has killed some game.” The young man was ashamed. His father-in-law said, “Bring me the snowshoes, I want to look at them.” When he saw them, he was glad and said, “We’ll eat plenty of meat now.” He smelt the snowshoes. The young man sat with bowed head, afraid to look up. Finally, he said, “All day I could not find any track or other sign of any game.” The girl’s relatives said, ^ ou have killed something, for there is blood on your snowshoes.” He protested that he had merely passed through a red spring. At last, the old man proposed to go to the spring with him. The next day the father-in-law stripped two trees of their bark and pushed one strip into either end of the spring. Then he told the people to get ready to shoot. He pushed m a stick and called on a moose to come out. A doe appeared and after running a short distance was shot. Then he cried, “Young moose, come out.” A young moose came out, and they shot it. Next he cried, “Big buck, come out.” A buck appeared, and was shot. “I have seen many springs like this, said the young man. His brother-in-law said, “Let us look for such springs every day.” They skinned the moose, roasted it and ate it. Then they went to a bear spring. The old man looked at it and said, “There is a bear within.” He put in bark, and poked the ground. A big black bear appeared, and the young man killed it. They had plenty of fat. The old man said, “Every spring has some kind of game in it m the winter. - ovv the young man went hunting for a spring every day, and they were no longer

in want.

30. The Buffaloes’ Ward.1

There once lived an orphan boy, who was raised by his grandfather and grandmother. One day his grandmother packed her travois, strapped the boy to the frame, and went to fetch wood. The dog gave chase to a jac '- rabbit, and ran away with the baby. After a long while, he returned, but

i Ft. Belknap.

Cf. the opening paragraph with Wissler and Duvall, p. 92 (Blackfoot).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

the child had fallen off. The old woman came home crying and told her husband what had happened. The old man asked the herald to announce that he wished some one to help him in searching for the child, and that he ,-ould reward those who aided him. Several young men came to his assist¬

w

ance, but their search was in vain.

The same evening a buffalo bull was grazing with three cows and several calves. They found the lost baby. The bull picked it up, pitying it, and carried it the first day on their westward route. The next day a cow carried the infant, and nursed it. They took turns at carrying it. At last they arrived at a large lodge, the home of the buffaloes. There they brought up the foundling. When the boy was large enough to run about, one buffalo asked him, “ Do you remember where you came from ? ” “ No.” Then the

buffalo told him that he was different from them, not having any fur or hoofs. He pointed at the pemmican and berries they had kept for him, saying, “This is the food we raised you with, but we eat grass.” He told him that he was born among the Indians, that his mother had died soon after, how his granny had strapped him to the travois, how he had been lost and found, and that he ought to see his own people. The boy did not know what “people” meant, so they explained it to him. They encouraged him to go through several ceremonies and promised to take him home. He answered, “I don’t like to leave you, but if you take me to my own tribe, I shall be willing to go.” They traveled with him for several days. When close to the camp, they halted. “Beyond that hill your grandfather is still living.” A man walking on the outskirts of the camp discovered the boy. He offered to take him home. When the boy’s grandparents heard a boy had been found, they thought this might be their lost grandson. They remembered cases where babies had been raised by foreign tribes and had ultimately returned. They went to the boy and questioned him, and he told the whole story. “The buffalo told me I had grandparents here.” Then they made themselves known to him, and took him home.

At night, while the boy was resting, a voice was heard exhorting him to do what he had been told. In the morning, the old woman would ask what had happened. One day he made the following announcement. “ I am going to call my grandfathers, and I want the people to aid me. I am going to call four buffaloes. Let a lodge be erected in the middle of the camp- circle. Let all that wish to help me bring new feathers, and beads, and shells and calico.” The lodge was erected, and the gifts were heaped up inside. Then the boy started out over the hill and called four buffaloes from the herd that had raised him. They appeared in the distance. The boy went back to camp, and bade all the people tie up their dogs. Then four buffaloes came nearer in single file. They went right to the lodge. All the people

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Lowie, The Assiniboine.

1S9

looked at them. The boy entered also, put flannel around their necks, tied | feathers to their hair, and divided the other gifts among them, telling them

this was their reward for rescuing him.

The buffaloes went away. The boy told the people his friends would come the next morning. Early the next morning the buffalo occupied the entire camp-circle. So far as anyone could look, nothing but buffalo were to be seen. The people were scared. They entreated the boy to save them and not have the buffalo trample them down. He replied, “They will not hurt you, they are only coming as visitors. Don’t chase them now. He took what goods had remained, and distributed them among the buffalo. That night all the herd disappeared. The boy also vanished. He was not seen any more.

31. The Buffalo-Boy.

A Blood Indian dug a hole in the ground; in it he left meat to bait eagles, which he caught by the legs and killed. Thus he killed a great many, and brought them to camp. When he was about to go again, his father warned him.& “You have enough, don’t go back for more.” The youth disregarded the warning. He went back, erected a four-post frame near the hole, and tied himself thereto in order not to be carried away by the birds. . He heard a noise in the air, and noticed a big red eagle descending. He tried to catch him in the usual way, but the bird seized his hands and carried him to a mountain, where he left him astride on a saddle-shaped crag. For four days he was left there without food or drink. At last the eagle, came and took him back to the earth again. Before leaving, he gave him some of his wing-feathers. He bade him go home with them, leaving the feathers on the ground while he was sleeping. Every morning they would indicate the direction in which he was to travel. On the fourth day he was to get to a hole in the ground, enter, and offer the feathers to whatever being he might

meet- . . ,

The boy obeyed. On the fourth day he went into a pit, anil met a large

buffalo, to whom he presented a feather. The buffalo did not hurt him, but

said, “When you meet another buffalo, present him also with a feather.

He met the second buffalo, and gave him a feather and also some. sweet-

grass obtained from the eagle. He got to a buffalo wallow. Following the

bird’s directions, he pulled out some moss. He saw the buffalo m t ieii

camp. To each he gave a portion of sweet-grass, and a feather. ( )ne old

buffalo said, “ I will give you my blanket; when you get to the hill, put it on

Then lie on the ground, turn over, and shake yourself.” He did, am tui nee

into a buffalo.

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After a while he returned home. His parents thought he had died. They had cut their hair, and were lamenting his loss. He came upon them and asked, “Why are you crying?” They recognized him. They erected a lodge for him, and placed some grass within. He ate the grass like a buffalo. His father noticed it and bade his wife cut more grass for their son to eat. The young man’s wife was frightened. She thought her husband also snorted like a buffalo, but he quieted her. For four days he continued to eat grass, then he ate the food of ordinary men.1

32. The Grizzly and his Ward.2

The people were hunting. One boy was sent for meat, but did not return. For several days they were looking for him, but could not find him. The boy had lost his way and could not get back. He walked along crying. After some time he met a grizzly bear. The bear asked, “Why are you crying?” “I have lost my way.” “Stay with me.” He stayed with the bear all summer, feeding on berries. In the fall the Bear said, “We ought to look for some place to hibernate in.” They went into a cave and spent the winter there. At the end of the winter, the Bear said, “Spring is coming. 1 our parents are lonesome, I shall give your father my blanket.”

One day the Bear and the boy heard a man coming. He stopped near the cave, heard the Bear moving within, and reported the fact to his people, saying, “Let us try to kill the bear.” The Bear knew what he was saying and instructed the boy not to be frightened when they would shoot him. Many Indians were heard coming. The Bear hid the boy in one corner of the cave. Then he lay down with his arms before his face. One man shot the Bear through the head. The frightened boy screamed aloud. They pierced the Bear’s cheeks and inserted a rope to pull him out with, but he was too heavy, then one man went inside to push from the rear. He found the boy covering his face with his arms. He addressed him, but the boy would not answer, for he loved the dead Bear. At last, the boy’s father said, “This is the boy I lost.”

A Stoney tale piesents a combination of elements found in this and the preceding story. A baby boy, strapped to a travois, is lost, raised by a buffalo and ultimately recaptured by the Indians. He puts on a buffalo-robe with a horn headdress, eats grass for a long time, and expresses his preference for a buffalo life. In another Stoney version, the buffalo present the boy with a buffalo-scalp and a medicine pipe. The pipe would turn every night so as to indicate the direction he was to follow for his next day’s journey. By putting on the scalp and rolling on the ground he could transform himself into a buffalo and thus flee from enemies. Returning to his parents, he eats grass in the night. He becomes chief of the buffalo-pen, and his descend¬ ants inherit the office.

2 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 93 (Blackfoot).

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33. The Grateful Bear.

An old man had a daughter, who married a man from another tribe. Before she left him, her father said, “Should your husband abuse you, come back to me.” The woman was maltreated by her husband, so she fled from him. In the evening she got to a creek, which she was afraid to cross. She went into the brush, and found an old bear-cave. Looking in, she found it was empty, and went to sleep there. After a while she heard a bear coming. She was frightened, expecting to be killed. When close to the entrance, the bear stood still, scenting the woman. Finally, he entered. She thought he was about to kill her. He growled, pushed her, and put his paw on her palm. She saw that a stick had pierced it, and that he wanted her to remove it. At last she pulled it out with her teeth. At daylight the bear said, “I will tell you something. Before you reach home, you will see the camp of bad people. Hide in the brush. In the next camp after that you will find your friends.” The woman obeyed. She hid when in sight of the first camp, then traveled all day. Finally she saw two horsemen, one of whom turned out to be her brother.

34. The Young Bear.

A woman dreamt that she had a young bear. She asked her husband to try to kill a female bear and bring her the cub. The man obeyed, and the woman then nursed the cub together with her own baby. One day the bear and the baby wrestled, and the bear won. After a while they wrestled again, and the boy won. The bear was angry and began to bite. The woman whipped both of them. The cub ran away and lived on berries. Once, when a woman came in search of berries, he seized her. She tried to free herself, but he held her fast, and they lived together. In the winter they stayed in a cave. They had plenty of food inside. The Bear said, “We need not starve, we can live well.” In the middle of the winter, the woman bore a cub. At the beginning of the spring, the Bear once said, “I am going to stay out for a night.” While he was gone, the woman fled with the cub. She ran all night, as well as the following day and night. The next morning, she heard something behind her. She also saw many lodges by a river in front of her. She ran as fast as she could. Her people, who thought she was dead, recognized her as the lost woman. They killed the Bear. 4 he cub played with the Indian boys. One day he struck a boy with his paws, killing him. In the same way he killed two other boys. When he was playing with the fourth boy, his mother asked him not to kill him. 4 he cub said, “141 kill another, then 141 stop, mother.” He tried to avenge Ins

192 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

father’s death. He was playing with the biggest boy, who had lots of power, so the Bear could not injure him, but only broke his own claws. After that, he never attacked anyone. A hen the women went bern ing, the Beai accompanied them, but he did not return with them. He stayed by himself, eatino- berries. Finally, he met a big bear; henceforth the two bears dwelt together.

35. The Bear-Wife.1

(a)

A chiefs son and another young man who had but fewr relations were traveling together as comrades. After several days’ journey they arrived at another camp. They returned to their own band again. On the way home, they got to a clump of trees. Going down a coulee they found a sleeping she-bear lying supine by a big rock. The chief’s son said, “Com¬ rade, I wish to embrace her.” His companion tried to dissuade him, but in vain. The chief’s son stripped, and, asking his friend to watch, tiptoed up to the bear. He embraced her, but she did not wake up. He dressed and ran away, saying, “When she wakes up, she will pursue us.” They ran on for a long time. They finally got home.

After some time, the bear came to the youth while every one was sleeping. He felt something warm leaning against him, but did not move at first, trying to think wdiat could be lying beside him. At last he rose, and found that it was the bear. The other people did not knowr wdiat he had done. The young man thought it was the same bear he had met on the road. He aroused his father. “ Father, build a fire. There’s a bear by me, but don’t be afraid. If she wanted to, she would have hurt me when she first came in.” The bear got up in the morning and sat up on the bed. Her mate requested his father to ask the people for eagle-feathers, red flannel, and shells. A herald wras sent to the camp-circle and soon got the things wished for, which the chief’s son presented to the bear. She wrapped the flannel around her neck and decorated herself with the feathers and shells. The young man then said, “You had better go home now,” and she departed.

rFhe next year the tvro comrades wrere passing through the same part of the country as before. I hey noticed a boy on the hill, who disappeared. I hey ran after him. He was shy, but they caught him. The other young man asked the chief’s son, “Do you remember what you did last year? This is your son.” His friend thought so too and took the boy home. They kept him, and he played with the other boys. Several days later, the bear

1 Ft. Belknap.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

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came. Her husband asked the chief for more flannel, feathers and shells. Having decorated her as before, the man bade her depart. She growled. Her husband understood her to say, “This is your son. Keep him. II he had fur like mine, I would take care of him; but as his flesh is like yours, you may do so. When old enough, he will aid you by his mysterious powers. He will secure for you horses and scalps, and you will become a great chief. I have given him all my power. I am not coming back any more.

The boy grew up. He did what his mother had predicted. He went out alone, caught horses, killed the enemy, and returned with the scalps. He became a great chief. He always dressed in a big bear robe, and carried a shield and two big knives with him. His father used them also. They did lots of harm to the enemy. After his father died, the boy remained a chief until his own death.

(b)

Two men were traveling together. They found a she-bear stretched out on her back and sleeping. One of the men was frightened, while his com¬ panion embraced her. lhe former ran home, the other slept with the bear, v ho did not offer any resistance. The bear invited him to her cave. It was fitted up like a lodge and contained plenty of food. The bear said to her husband, “men you go home, I will accompany you.” They went towards the camp. When close to it, the bear said, “I will come to your lodge to¬ night.” The boy told his parents nothing about his bear-wife, men they were sleeping, she came in and lay with him. When the mans parents found their son sleeping with a bear, they were frightened. They would not stay in the lodge, but went to another tent. The bear went back to her cave, saying she would see her husband again. After a while the man visited his bear-wife. She gave birth to a boy, who was of human shape. Whatever he said, happened. He often took part in fights, but was never hurt. He killed many people, but no matter how close to him the enemy shot, they could never kill him.

36. Snake and Bear-Woman.

Once the whole country was burnt up. Only a big snake was lef t. He walked along and felt lonesome. “ I should like to see some people.” He walked on and finally saw a woman on a hill. When he was close to her, she was frightened and was going to flee, but Snake said, “I am lonesome, I only wished to find a human being. Why are you afraid V I have traveled a long time hunting for people.” The woman, who was a bear, said, "1 am the only person left ” “ We had better camp together,” said the Snake.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

The Bear agreed, so they found a good site and were going to camp there. “What are we going to have for a tent ?”' asked Snake. The Bear replied, “At sunset we shall have a tent. I should also like to get some buckskin for moccasins, go away for a while and before you return I shall have made a lodge.” Snake went off with his bow and arrows and killed a deer. He took some of the meat home. As he approached their camping-ground, he saw a fine lodge. The Snake said, “I should like to move our camp to the place where I killed the deer. How are we going to pack the lodge?” “Leave it where it is,” she answered, and transplanted it to the desired place. She dried the meat, dressed the skin, and then asked her husband to get two more skins. The Snake killed two does, then his wife had three skins.

After the woman had finished drying the meat, she said, “We had better see my father. 1 he Snake agreed to go. He never slept much, being afraid of his wife’s magical powers. The Bear said to him, “You had better sleep, I won’t hurt you.” The next morning, when the Snake woke up, he looked around and found his father-in-law, a large bear, there. The Bear asked, W ho is your father ? ‘ I don’t know, I don’t know where I

come from. The old man said, “I know. At one time everything was burnt up. \ on lived alone in the water. Then you came out. Your name is lomesese (Snake).” J hey stayed there for one year. Then the old man said, “This winter you are going to stay in the next coulee. Whoever finds my house, may have my robe. If anyone finds your house, give him your robe. The winter will seem to you like one night.” They stayed close together all winter. The Snake became more like a bear every morning. In the spring, his wife went outside the cave and announced, “It is spring, it is time for you to go out.” The old man said, “We will camp together,’’ and they joined a lot of bears.

The Snake said, I should like to go with my wife to our former camp.” The old Bear instructed them as follows: “If you find people who have kdled a bear, don’t eat his flesh, don’t drink his blood. If you do, it will be like eating myself. If you want a bear-skin, kill a bear gently.” It was sunset now, and all went to sleep. When the Snake and his wife awoke they were back in their old locHe ’

37. The Beaver-Man.1

(«)

, , ™r:h° had never been married- always had dreams. He

told his father, When you go hunting, don’t walk close to the lake.” The

1 Found by Mr. Skinner

among the Cree.

I

1909.]

Lowie, The Assinibaine.

195

old man forgot his warning and once, while returning from the chase, he walked by the lake. He beheld some beavers, and among them a beaver- woman, who said to him, “ I want to marry you, my house is below there.” The old man undressed, and followed her, after hanging up his clothes by the dam. Then the people dreamt about what had happened, and the young man helped his father to get out. Another man, who had dreams, challenged the young man to find the beaver-woman. Accordingly, he went to the lake, entered her house, and never came back.

(b)

A man found several beavers at work. He heard them laughing like women and thought he should like to marry them. He doffed his clothes and was going to dive into the water, but one of the beavers said, “Wait awhile, I’ll first see my father.” The old beaver said, “First give him some beaver-grease to paint his body with, then you can have him.” They gave him the grease, for without it he could not have stayed in the water. He lived with them for a year and had a child by one of his wives. They built a strong house in the water. The people tried to kill the beavers, but could not catch them. One young man knew where the beavers dwelt and told all the people. He had seen and recognized the beaver- man, and announced that he had seen the lost tribesman. The people then killed all the beavers except the beaver-man and one female, whom they allowed to go.

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife.1

(«)

A man wanted some eagle-feathers. He got to an eyrie, found four young birds there, and plucked off their wings. The old eagle attacked him, but was killed in the struggle. The chief of the eagles, Big-Eagle, then pursued the man and, catching hold of his head, flew with him to a mountain-top, where he left him astride a crag. The man was nearly starved. After ten days the eagle returned, gave the man two feathers from each wing, and took him down to a buffalo trail. “You will meet an old buffalo-chief. He will be wild, but don’t run away. Put one of the feathers in his head, and he won’t hurt you.”

When the buffalo came, the man followed the eagle’s directions. The

1 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 104 (Blackfoot); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 395 (Arapaho); Kroeber, (d), p. 186 (Cheyenne); Simms, p. 289 (Crow); G. A. Dorsey, (d), p. 94 (Arikara); Id., (a) p. 284 (Pawnee).

196

Anthropological Papers American Museum of A atural History . [A ol. II ,

buffalo told the man he would meet another wild buffalo and bade him put a feather in his head also. The man obeyed. ' The second buffalo then said, “Mv vouno'est brother is coming behind me. Put a feather in his head. The man obeyed, and though the bull was preparing to kill him, he left him alone as soon as he was offered the feather. The bull said, “At the end of this road you will find a spring and you will see the tracks of a buffalo cow. Don’t tell her about the tracks (?).” When the man got to the tracks, he said, “I should like to eat kidneys, I should like to eat buffalo feet.” The cow appeared and asked, “What did you say about me?” “I did not say anything about you.” “ I heard what you said; I want to take you home.” She took him to the camp as her husband. There they gave him his brother- in-law’s kidneys to eat.

The Indians were making a buffalo-pound. The man’s father-in-law told him not to look outside his tent. But when the man heard the buffalo running he looked out and saw his brother chasing buffalo. Then he made bows and arrows, saying, “I am also going to catch buffalo.” The next morning he went to the Indian camp and gave each man two arrows. Then they killed most of the buffalo.

The man picked up grass, willow- leaves, and other kinds of food, and asked the old buffalo, “What would you like to live on?” The old buffalo tried the different kinds of food. He said, “ I prefer grass.” Then the man asked the moose to choose, and he picked out willow- leaves. The bear chose berries and roots, the deer grass and leaves. This is how the animals got their food.

The man had a calf by his buffalo-wife. He also married a moose- woman. His brother, Magpie, was lusting for one of the wives. One day the man was out hunting. Magpie asked the women to race. The buffalo- woman won. The second time the moose made a mud-liole in her rival’s path. The buffalo-woman stuck in the mud, and the moose won. The buffalo-woman was angry, and when she had gotten out she returned to her father, accompanied by the calf. A hen her husband came home, he found one of his wives gone and pursued her. When he got to the buffalo camp, the old buffalo got up a dance of the buffalo, in the course of which they trampled the man to death.

Magpie was- living with the moose- woman. When his brother did not return, he went to look for him. The calf told him how the buffalo had killed his father. Magpie looked for his brother’s hair. At last, he found some of it, took it back to the camp, and restored his brother to life. Then the man said to the calf, “ Tell your grandfather to get all the buffalo after me. A e shall fight. A hen the buffalo came after them, the moose-woman began to cry. Magpie said, “Give me some red iron (?).” He chewed it,

1909.]

Louie, The Assiniboine.

197

threw it in the air and thus made an iron house. 1 lie buffalo ran against it, but only killed themselves. Some were scared and ran home.

(b)

Magpie married a buffalo and a moose-woman. The buffalo gave birth to a calf. The two women were jealous of each other, each wishing to stay alone with her husband. Magpie once declared that he would stay with the one that would defeat the other in a race. They began to run on level ground, and the buffalo ran ahead. Then the moose said, “I wish you would get stuck in a mudhole before you get back. On their way back, the buffalo got stuck and lost the race. When she extricated herself, she

was very angry and returned to her father.

When Magpie found that the buffalo-woman had deserted him, he followed after'" her. The buffalo- calf was lingering behind his mother. When the man got near him, he said, “Look, my son, I am thirsty and ex¬ hausted.” The calf said, “Follow my footsteps and you will get to a good spring.” The man obeyed and found good water. The calf said, “\ou will get thirsty three times before we reach the buffalo camp. lhe man continued following his wife and got thirsty again. Again his son directed him to a spring. After drinking, he ran after his wife, thinking he might catch her, but he never even caught sight of her. At last they got to the buffalo camp, where there were many lodges. The buffalo-woman went to her father’s lodge. “What is the matter, my daughter ? Why do you come back?” “I had a race with the moose-woman, and got stuck in a mud- hole. She has my husband all to herself now.” The man was afraid at first, but finally he went to his father-in-law. The old buffalo said, “We are goino- to have a wai dance now. Put on your headdress and your best clothes. ° Watch the buffalo and act like them.” Before dancing, Magpie said, “I am hungry.” The old buffalo said, “I’ll give you something to eat ” Then he allowed him to eat one of his brothers-in-law, but ordered him not to cut his legs and to pile up the meat after skinning him. After the man had eaten, the dance began. They danced three times without hurting him, the calf dancing beside his father. The fourth time all the buffalo jumped up, hooked him, threw him continually in the air, and ki e<

When Magpie did not return, the moose-wife began to cry. Her brother- in-law said, “Stay where you are, I’ll go to look for my brother. He started out. At last, he found a buffalo trail. He was afraid to enter the buffalo camp, but, seeing a young calf, he asked him, “Where is my brother ? “The buffalo have hooked him to death in their war-dance. Magpies

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

brother stayed outside the lodges and listened here and there. He heard his nephew crying. The calf told him how his father had been hooked and trampled to pieces. He walked on the dance-ground until he found a small bit of Magpie’s hair. He wrapped it up in his blanket, blew smoke at the blanket, and said, “Wake up!” Thus he restored his brother to life. Magpie got angry at the buffalo, seized one of the buffalo by his horns, and made a fire that burnt up his hair. That is why the buffalo have curly hair.

The moose was staying with Magpie and his parents. One day all the buffalo came to attack them. The old man went outside the lodge and saw the buffalo thundering along. All were terrified except Magpie, who con¬ tinued to sleep. “ Look, all the buffalo are coming, get up!” For a long time he paid no attention to them. At last, he got up, asked for water, washed himself, and asked his mother for some iron. She said there was none. Magpie looked for it himself, found a small piece, and chewed it up. Thus he transformed their lodge into one of heavy iron. The buffalo ran against it, but could not destroy it, while Magpie, sitting on the roof, shot many of the buffalo. Sitcon/ski joined the buffalo, saying, “I’ll try to kill Magpie, give me some iron horns and I’ll hook his house.” For a long time Magpie did not notice him. At last, he said, “What is Sitcon'ski doing there?” “Oh,” answered Sitcou'ski, “I was only joking.”

(0

Long ago the Stoneys were fighting with a hostile band. One Stoney boy had a beaded jack-rabbit tail stuck in his head. He had a bone knife, v ith ’vhich he used to cut off people’s heads. Both his own people and the enemy were afraid of him. He was called Jack-Rabbit. The enemy shot at him, but could not hurt him. He pursued them and cut off their necks. They fled, pursued by the Stoneys. After a while Jack-Rabbit went to look for another chance to fight. Before he got to the enemy, he met a young woman. She was one of the enemy’s chieftainesses and warned him

not to go near the camp, “Don’t follow me, or you will have a hard time.” Nevertheless, he followed, and hid in a coulee by her camp. The girl called all her people. . “Watch, I have seen somebody.” Jack-Rabbit heard what she was saying. He lay down and began to shoot at her. The woman, whose name was Porcupine, had never been hurt before, but Jack- Rabbit killed her. The people wondered who had caused her death but when they went to look for him, they only found a rabbit in his hiding-place.

• s soon as they were gone, he re-transformed himself into a man and as such entered the camp. He went to an old woman’s lodge. She advised him to go away or he would get killed, but Jack-Rabbit answered, “No one can

1909.1

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

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kill me,” and stayed there. He was joined by another man, who had come a great distance and became his comrade.

Sodalis Leporem certiorem fecit virginem semper eodem loco mingere quo minxisset juvenis et eomodo gravidam fieri. Lepus quodam loco minxit, et eodem loco virgo. Jack-ltabbit went away. After a while, the girl gave birth to a child. The people bade Jack-Rabbit go home. Before lying down to sleep, he heard the woman saying, “Ha, ha, ha! If your father kdls a black-fox, Ave 11 use the skm. Jack-Rabbit kdled her, but let the child live, and traveled on. The next night he heard the woman saying the same words as before. Again he killed her, sparing the child. The next day he journeyed on. In the night he heard the same voice as before. He killed her and burnt her, then he walked on, and killed an elk. In the night he heard the woman coming again. She was saying to her child, “Your father has killed an elk, we ’ 1 1 cut lots of meat. Jack-Rabbit said, “I won’t kill her any more.” She asked him why he had done so before. He said, “I can’t kill you anyway, I’ll marry you now.”

When the boy was big, the woman said, “Your comrade is always angry, I’ll o-o back home.” She went across the mountains. Jack-Rabbit fol¬ lowed her, but could not overtake her. (There follows a fragmentary version of the piqued buffalo-woman story. I he calf points out a spung, \There his father may drink and prepares him for the tests a\raiting him. He arrives at the buffalo camp. Six buffalo dance with him. He is to pick out his son from among other calves. His son helps him by shutting one eye and lowering one ear. Thus, Jack-Rabbit succeeds in the first recognition- tests, but in the last he picks out the Avrong calf and is killed.) 1

The buffalo moved camp. The calf walked on crying. He stopped to listen at every little hole. He found a piece of his father’s hair; it groaned. He made a bow and arrows. Standing near the hair, he shot an arrow into the air, crying, “Run away, you’ll get hurt.” The first time there was another groan. The second time he cried again, “You had better run, or you’ll get killed.” He heard a human sound in reply. The third time there was a human body lying there, but it did not get up. The fourth time Jack-Rabbit AA'as alive again and rose. The boy transformed the hair into a great many people. With them Jack-Rabbit pursued the buffalo. He caught up to them. “We will play to-day. First you played with me, now I’ll play with you.” He went to his lodge and called on a big frost to come. The old buffalo Avas shivering. “Hold on,” he cried, “I’ll let you have my wife, don’t make it so cold.” The lodge-cover had a hole in it and the sun Avas shining through. Jack-Rabbit began to pull doAvn the

i Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 118 (Blackfoot).

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. . [Vol. VI

sun. While it was frosty outside, it got hot within. The buffalo got hot, and began to move around. Jack-Rabbit pulled it down further. The buffalo got so hot that his guts burst. The lodge was getting burnt. Then Jack-Rabbit let the sun go back again.

39. The Wolf-Wife.1 2

A man dreamt of a she-wolf and took her to wife. He slept with her in his lodge. The old man saw his son sleeping with her. After a while, the young man consorted with another woman. The wolf was angry and killed her, then she departed and gave birth to a child that looked partly human and partly wolf-like. When grown-up, the boy looked for his father and lived with him. He was a good hunter and ran so fast that he could catch the fleeing deer. After a while he found his mother and took her to her husband, who was very glad.

40. The Antelope-Woman.3

Some men were hunting antelope. Having located the game, they approached a wood. One of them said, “I want to stop here, wait for me by that hill. It was so hot that all of them stripped and carried their clothes along. They waited for the young man, but he did not return. He met a beautiful girl. He approached her and asked, “What are you doing here?” “I am looking for roots.” “Who is with you?” “No one. Where are you going?” “I am looking for antelope.” “I shall follow wherever you go.” He asked her whether there was anyone with her, and again she answered there was not. He was about to embrace her, when suddenly a friend of his appeared and asked, “What are you doing?” The young man jumped up, and the woman, turning into an antelope, disap- pealed in the brush. He followed her. His friend pursued him, but could not catch him, so he returned to camp and told the young man’s father. All went to look for the young man in the brush. One man dis¬ covered the hero and signaled to the other men looking for him, but the lost youth said, “Friend, let me go, I have become a male antelope, and she is my wife now.” They wanted to catch both, but they escaped. Nothing more was heard of the young man.

From that day the Indians believe that antelopes may turn into women and lure away men.

1 Obviously a very fragmentary version.

2 Ft- BelknaP- Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 162 (BlackfootV

(Pawnee).

G. A. Dorsey, (a), p. 354

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41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk.

A lot of people were starving. The Red Hawk was waiting to devour j them. He met the Black Hawk and told him, “Many people are going to starve here, and we can have lots to eat. The Black Hawk said, I wish to help the poor people.” The Red Hawk said, “You cannot get the better of me in anything.” The Black Hawk answered, “I do everything slowly, nevertheless you cannot beat me. W e 11 see which of us is the better. Red Hawk said, “If I beat you, I’ll eat those starving people.” In the night both went into a wood. They saw many rabbits. Red Hawk was used to hunting rabbits, while Black Hawk generally killed mice. After a while, a rabbit came along. Red Hawk said, “Kill this rabbit.” Black Hawk flew in pursuit, seized it, but could not fly with it. It ran a little distance, then he killed it. It was the first rabbit he had ever killed. 1 he two birds went to another place, where there was plenty of timber. They saw some mice. “Catch those mice,” said the Black Hawk. Red Hawk flew after them, but his wings struck the trees, making a noise. He thought he had caught one, but when he brought it back he found it was only some dung. Black Hawk saw that it was only a dog’s excrements. Four times Red Hawk tried to catch mice, but at each trial he only caught some dung. Then he bade Black Hawk try. Black Hawk flew noiselessly and caught the mice. Red Hawk was beaten and went away. The Black Hawk taught men to hunt. They killed game then, and did not starve.

42. Frog.1

Some people were camping; Frog lived near-by. One of the men in the tribe had many good-looking children, while all of Frog’s children were ugly. While the children were all playing together one day, Frog stole the youngest of the good-looking children, which was just beginning to walk. He raised it. “How is this?” asked one of Frog’s children; “this child is handsome, and all the rest of us are ugly.” “Oh, I washed him in red water, that is why he is handsome.” At last, the man whose child had been stolen re¬

captured the kidnapped boy.

He was very angry at Frog. Frog was scared

and went into the water. That is why frogs live there now.

43. The Crane and the Otter.

Some birds lay eggs early in the season, some later, but the crane is the last to hatch. When the young ducks and geese were flying away to a

i Cf. Schoolcraft, p. 246 (Ojibwa).

202 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\ ol. I\ ,

warmer country, the young crane was still too weak to fly. "W inter was approaching. The mother-bird asked Otter to keep the bird for her during the winter; in return she would reward her in the spring. Otter kept her ward in a warm hole. Once Osni' (Cold5) came to the camp, killed Otter, and carried off the young crane to his home, where he made him stir the fire for him with his bill. He was never allowed to go anywhere else. He was starving and became ugly; the fire burnt his back, so that the crane’s skin is of a reddish-brown color now. In the spring, when the south side of the hills was warm while the northern side was still frozen, the young crane knew his mother would return soon. He went into the sunshine and called her. He continued to do so later in the spring. Osni' cried, “Come in here, stop that noise, my grandson.” The crane cried all the louder. Osni’ pursued him and nearly caught him, when suddenly a clap of thunder was heard and the lightning struck Osni' and tore him to pieces. The Crane was there, and asked her young one how he had been treated during the winter. He told her that Otter had treated him well, while Osni ' had abused him. The old bird looked for another otter, and said to him, “Henceforth the cold (osni’) will never kill you.” Thus she paid the Otter for his services. This is why the Otter can live in the water throughout winter without freezing.

44. Wi'skedidi'n.

A man saw. some elk on the other side of a river, which he could not cross. “I wish,” said he, “that some one would take me across.” An elk came to get him. The elk was thin and bony, so the man said, “I want to ride another one. ’ Then a fat elk came. He rode across, and, as soon as they had gotten to the other side, he drove his knife into the elk. At first he could not pierce its skin, but with the second stroke he killed it.1

While he was skinning the elk, a wolf approached, and asked, “Where do you camp?” “My camp is over there by the river.” “Wait here, I will tell your people.” Then he piled up the meat, and covered both the food and the man with a skin. The cover was heavy and when the wolf was gone the man tried to get out. He got himself covered with blood. When he got out at last, he had turned into the bird Wi'skedidi'n.

45. The Loon and the Bald-Headed Eagle.

A Bald-Headed Eagle was perched on a tree slanting towards a lake,

1 Cf. Lowie, p. 267 (Shoshone); G. A. Dorsey, (e), p. 271 (Wichita).

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::r; L°0n was swlmming around- Seeing the Eagle, the Loon asked, What are you sitting there for?” “I am just watching for something to

•1 +v • Z°UZe n6Ver able t0 kiU an^thing” “Why do you speak to me like this 1 ou are a bird that is never able to kill anything, that is why

f am telling you so.” “You are a miserable bird yourself, yet you are abusing me. The Loon replied, “You are a poor one; if you wanted to catch me you would never succeed.” “You’ll see whether I am not able to vill anything, said the Eagle, flying towards the Loon, who dived into the water. The Eagle flew directly above him, waiting to swoop down as soon as the Loon came up to breathe. When the Loon was exhausted, he tried to use under some trees, but the Eagle was straight above him. At last he dived underground so as to reach another lake. But the Eagle followed and continued to hover above him. The Loon went to a third lake, and after¬ wards to a fourth, but the Eagle still pursued him. At last, the Eagle got angry, turned into Thunder and killed the Loon with a flash of lightning

46. 1 he Wolverene and the Wolves.1

mi Winter’. f°Ur blg wolves and a wolverene were staying on a hill,

i he W olverene did not like the place, because it was too cold there. When- ever the wolves wanted fire, they piled up wood and jumped across. The Wolverene wanted to learn how to make fire. The wolves taught him but said, “Don’t play too much.” The Wolverene tried the trick once, and succeeded. He liked it, went off some distance, and tried once more. He performed the trick several times as he went along. At last he came to a river covered with ice. The Wolverene got to a spot where the cover was thm and fell in. He got cold, so he piled up wood and wanted to make a fire. But he could not make one by jumping now. He looked around for some flint, but could not find any. The wolves had stolen his flint. He chased them. At last he saw their fire from the top of a hill. One wolf said, My friend, the Wolverene is coming.” The Wolverene said, “I have lost my flint.” The wolves replied, “We have not seen it,” but he could see that they had it. The Wolverene was so cold that he had to walk up and down continually. 'Hie wolves sa'id, “Sit in here, we will cover you with our blanket.” When he got to them they covered him with their tads and began to break wind.2 “You are breaking wind, you are causing a foul odor.” “No, we did not break wind; if you don’t like it here, you can go to look for fire elsewhere.” The Wolverene was very angry, but he stayed with them all winter.

1 Recorded by Mr. Skinner among the Cree.

2 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 149 (Blackfoot).

204 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

47. Skunk.1

Long ago Skunk was larger than a* horse and was able to kill anyone. He had slain many people and the survivors were fleeing from him. One old marten could not run fast enough, and pretended to be dead at Skunk s approach. “I wonder how long he has been dead/ said Skunk. He put his finger in his anus and smelt it. “He must have died to-day, he said, and went on. He met a wolverene, working by a beaver-dam. What are you doing?” “I am trying to kill beaver; what are you looking foi . Skunk said, “You are not telling me the truth.” Wolverene said, “Let us smoke together.” Skunk said, “I want to smoke alone. fhey got angry at each other. Skunk was about to kill W olverene with his filth, but W olverene went close, and closed his anus so that he could not void filth. As soon as Fox saw this, he ran away and told the other people, “He cannot defecate.” All ran towards Skunk, only Lynx lingered behind. “Where is Lynx? Tell him to join us in killing Skunk.” Lynx came along slowly. He said, “Take him into the timber.” There he climbed a tree, and, seizing Skunk with his legs while the others held him, he bit his neck through, killing him. They built a large fire and burnt up Skunk. There was lots of fat in his body. From the small spots on his corpse, there developed the skunks of to-day. That is why the skunks are small now.

48. The Blind Dupe.2

A man was living alone with his wife and child. The other people were jealous of him, because he was the best hunter and always had the best skins. Suddenly he became blind. He taught his wife to shoot, and for a time she hunted every kind of game. Once she shot a buffalo, but pretended not to have caught any game. Then she left her husband. The blind man walked about crying. He became thirsty, and went to look for water. After groping about, he got to a lake. Here he sat down and cried. A mno'za (gull?) heard him and approached. “Where is your wife? At her lodge there is plenty of meat.” The man begged to be cured of his blindness. The mno'za told him to dive three times in the lake. He dived, and after the third plunge he came out seeing as well as ever. He looked about for his wife until he found her. She had plenty of meat. He cut off her breasts, killing her, and fed the mno'za with them. Then he took his child and

1 Cf. Russell, p. 218 (Cree); Lowie, p. 270 (Shoshone).

2 Cf. Petitot, p. 84 (Loucheux), p. 226 (Hare); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 286 (Arapaho); G. A. Dorsey, (c), p. 32 (Osage).

1909.]

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looked for his people. After a while he found them. He married a second time, and lived in seclusion with his wife. Once he went to fight against another tribe and was killed. His wife and child were captured. The captors ran away, but met a party of Stonevs, who were about to kill the woman, but spared her when she was heard speaking Stoney. Thus she rejoined her tribe.

49. The False Comrade.1

Two youths were always staying together. One went on a visit. At a white man s house he got married. He went on horseback to hunt game with his double-barreled gun. A small iron dog accompanied him. Near a clump of bushes he noticed two elk. He pursued them into the brush. By nightfall he had not caught up to them. He did not know where he was. He made a fire. Suddenly an old woman appeared, warming herself by his fireplace. “My grandson, I am freezing. Do you go to sleep.” Then he fell asleep. “Get up, my grandson,” she said after a while, “your feet are going to get burnt.” He remained silent. She untied her medicine- bag, and with a stick she rubbed medicine on him. Then the youth, his dog, his gun, and all his other property were transformed into trees.

After some time had elapsed, the enchanted youth’s comrade said, “I am going to follow my comrade.” He set out and reached the white man’s house. His friend’s wife came to meet him and mistook him for her husband . “Where is my comrade?” “It is yourself.” “No, tell me where he is.” “No, it is yourself, let us two go home and eat.” She took him home, and he ate. She would not let him go, thinking he was her husband, but finally he escaped.

He got to a place where he thought his friend might be. He set down his iron dog, bidding it hunt for his lost friend. The dog searched a stable, then ran on, scented, and followed the tracks. Finally, they got to a place where two elk were lying. He thought, “This is perhaps the place, these two may have killed my friend, and I will kill them.” He gave chase, following them into the brush. Suddenly it got dark. He built a fire. “Here I will sleep.” Having unsaddled his horse, he covered himself up. Suddenly something was heard coming through the brush, and an old woman was standing by the fireplace, warming herself. The youth thought, “This,

I presume, is the one that killed my friend.” Then he said to her, “Grand¬ mother, sit down and warm yourself while I sleep.” “Do so, my grand¬ child,” she replied. He covered himself with a blanket, but pierced it, so

1 Ft. Belknap. Translated from a text.

206 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

that he was able to peep through a little hole. He pretended to sleep and began snoring. Suddenly she said, Rise, grandchild, the sparks aie going to fall on you.” She said it repeatedly, yet he stirred not. Again she said, “ They will burn you, grandson,” but he continued to snore. Then she said, “I do not mean anything by what I say, but I am going to have some more trees.” She untied her medicine-bag taking it from inside her dress. She rubbed medicine on a stick and was going to touch the youth. He lay watching. Suddenly he rose and seized her by the wrist. ‘‘Yes, grand¬ mother, what are you about to do?” he asked. “O, grandson, I am an object for commiseration, spare me. V onder is your friend, and his dog, and all his property.” Still he held her by the wrist. He untied her medi¬ cine bag; one medicine in it was for making sunlight, the other for trans¬ forming people, a third for restoring them. He touched her with the trans¬ forming medicine. Then she turned into a large, ugly tree with many limbs and bees’ nests. The youth did not take the day-making charm, but took the other two. Then he touched his friend, and his friend’s trans¬ formed horse and dog with the restorative medicine. He also touched a stranger, who stood up laughing, and other people. All assumed their natural shape once more. Then he spoke to them, saying, “Go wherever you have come from.” Then they scattered in various directions. There were also white people among them. Only the witch remained a tree.

Then the two comrades walked homeward. The rescuer said to his friend, “Comrade, on my way I got to a white man’s house, and a pretty girl came out. I asked her, ‘Where is my comrade?’ and she said, ‘It is yourself.’” When he had told the whole story, his friend was angry (from jealousy). “Go ahead, lead, comrade,” he said to his rescuer. The other man walked ahead without looking back. Then the jealous man shot him and abandoned him. He got to the white man’s house. There he ques¬ tioned the woman, and she told him what had really happened. When he heard it, he returned to where he had left his friend. He found his corpse. With the life-medicine he touched it and restored him to life, but his comrade was offended and went straight to their camp to tell his story. Later the jealous man arrived there. His father said, “I have heard how you killed your partner and afterwards restored him. You have nothing more to seek here; be off!” The other youth was so ashamed of his treatment at the hands of a comrade that he had already gone away from the camp.

50. The Wakan/ Girl.

Once an old woman was living with a girl whom she called “grand¬ daughter.” They were very poor, their lodge was smoked black, and the

1909.]

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tipi-cover was dotted with holes. They did not even have enough lodge- poles. I he girl was very young; her hair was long, and she was very pretty but she had to wear ragged clothes. They did not have enough to eat.

In another lodge there lived a youth, whose parents were well-to-do -Many girls were eager to marry him and used to call him in the night, but he declined to have anything to do with them. Once he said, “Father, tell my mother and sisters to look for some really poor girl that has no relatives If you find such a one, I may marry her.” They looked, but could not find such a girl. One day the youth was sitting on a hill. A creek was running by. He watched the women coming to fetch water, but all of those he saw had relatives. At last, on the other side of the creek, near the end of the camp, he espied a little lodge, and saw the poor girl standing outside. He walked in that direction, and sat down at some distance from the tent in order to examine the girl more closely. He saw her unbraided long black hair, and liked her appearance. He thought she was the girl he was looking for. Returning home, he told his father that they had not done as he had requested. “I asked you to get me an orphan girl, but you did not find one. Now, I have found one myself.” His father said they would bring the girl to their lodge, but the boy said he would get her himself. So he got calico and blue flannel, a pair of beautiful beaded moccasins, some blankets, and a toilet-bag, as well as some clothes for the old woman. He wrapped up pemmican with the other gifts, walked to the lodge, and laid down every¬ thing outdoors. He built a fire, and bade the old woman get up. Then he said, “ I also wish your granddaughter to rise. You have heard about me. All the women wish to marry me, but I wall have nothing to do with them.

I have discovered this girl, and if she takes me, I’ll marry her.” The girl wTas willing. She said to the old woman, “If I marry him, you too may get some help.” The youth asked the girl to sit beside him. He combed her hair, and asked whether she could sew. Then he took out his calico, meas¬ ured off enough for her clothes, and she began to sew them. She made a new dress, leggings and moccasins for herself. He handed her a belt, a necklace, brass finger and earrings, and redolent seeds for perfumery, and decorated her with paint. To the grandmother he gave some clothes and the pemmican. All night they feasted on the food he brought, and dressed up. He remained with them all night and the next day.

The youth’s parents were wondering where he had gone to. One of the women who had desired him for a husband had seen him enter the ugly lodge. She rushed in, and, scolding him for going to the poorest girl, said he would have done better to marry her. The orphan girl began to cry, but her betrothed bade the jealous woman be gone, and wiped away his bride’s tears. The rejected woman returned and told every one in the camp

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [VoL IV,

about the young man's marriage. His parents then packed up a harms, brought a lodge and its furnishings to their son. and requested him to set up house. He moved in with his young bride,, and the other people gave a new lodge to the old grandmother.

One day the girl said, “That woman is very eager to marry you; you may marry her also.” The man refused, being afraid the woman might kill her rival. But the girl replied, “Nothing can kill me, I am waha . You are the first one to be told about it. We shall let her do the house¬ keeping, for I don't know much about it yet. She can cook tor us. After she has once moved in, she will not be able to get out. Some day, m the future, I shall lead the whole people. Our first child will be a boy and he also will be a leader. All the people will depend on us. I shall show the people how to get buffalo.” As soon as the young man had married the older woman, the girl said to her, “You wished to marry him Me shall both be his wives; I am not going to be jealous. If you are willing to a ve care of the lodge, we shall get along; but if you maltreat me, you will not live long. I have something to support me, I am wakan', while you are not As I am a woman, I shall let my husband do certain things. We three shall live together, if your parents agree.” So the three lived together.

The orphan girl asked her husband to get a crow for her. T hen he had brought one, she fleshed it, dried it, and stuffed it with grass. She bade her husband look whether any of the Indians had a calf skin. He found an old woman who kept one for storing berries in. When the young wife had secured it, she ordered the people to follow her southward where there was plenty of timber. She announced that she was going to corral buffalo. Some of the people followed her. When they had reached a certain spot, she halted and bade the men bring logs for a buffalo-drive. It was con¬ structed in one day. Then she ordered all the dogs to be tied up inside the lodges. She sent out a crow, which flew out through the smoke-hole. Then she dressed up, putting on a flannel shawl .with eagle-feathers, and staited out with the calf-skin. From the top of a hill she saw a herd of buffalo appearing on a long ridge. She got ahead, so as to be able to enter the conal before the buffalo. Then she took off her flannel and waved it four times, before putting it on again. Suddenly one buffalo took the lead and ran towards her, followed by the rest of the herd. When they were close enough to hear her, she called them, then she stepped back. She called them three times. The fourth time she turned her calf-skin into a live calf, which ran to meet the buffalo. Then the calf suddenly veered about and ran towards the orphan, decoying all the buffalo into the corral.1 The orphan picked

1 Calling the buffalo is called oxpa'jax.

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up the calf and ran through the entrance which faced south. Followed by the herd, she climbed a lofty tree within the enclosure. She began to sing!1 Ihe men watching her said, “The buffalo don’t seem to lie at all afraid.” The men had been posted along the entrance. When she ceased to sing, she ordered several sharpshooters to shoot the buffalo. She had told the men to kill the entire herd if small, but to spare some if it was large. The old men selected as many of the fattest animals as the orphan girl desired, the remainder was divided among the people. Everything was taken out of the corral.

1 he second time the orphan s husband called the buffalo, having received the power from his wife. He sent out the crow, then dressed as his wife had at the first calling, and went to the same hill. He stood there for a while, until the buffalo appeared. Then he waved his flannel four times, yelled and stepped back. Three times he did this, the fourth time he dropped the calf-skin as before, and it turned into a calf and decoyed the herd. He climbed up the tree, the buffalo circled around the corral, then stood still, and were shot by the people. Twice after this his wife gave him the power to call buffalo, then she gave him the power to lead in the buffalo- chase.

He started out with a party of good hunters. They found buffalo along some coulees. He sat down, filled his pipe, pointed the stem towards the buffalo, and prayed, telling how he had received power from his wife and asking how many buffalo he was to kill. All smoked. He took his gun, faced the buffalo, sang, and shut his eyes. Then he said, “We are only allowed to kill twenty.” ‘ Two drivers were sent out after the buffalo, and twenty were killed. The man had the power to lead the chase on two other occasions.

The young woman was now followed by four large bands. She ex¬ plained to them how she had dreamt the power to call buffalo. “I dreamt that it I married, I would be superior to my husband on account of my waka11 powers. Now I have plenty of people under me. To-day I feel proud. I can hear anyone at a good distance off. I can make any kind of ■wind in any direction at any time of either day or night. I will not say any more about my powers. From now on people can subsist on buffalo. People will not always live in the world. We can depend only on buffalo meat.”

1 In his description of a Cree pound, Franklin (1. c., p. 101) writes: “There was a tree in the

centre of the pound, on which the Indians had hung strips of buffalo flesh and pieces of cloth as tributary or grateful offerings to the Great Master of Life; and we were told that they occa¬ sionally place a man in the tree to sing to the presiding spirit as the buffaloes are advancing, who must keep his station until the whole that have entered are killed,’'

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51. The Bad Wife.1

There was a large Indian camp. The chief had a married daughter. One day, when her husband returned home, his wife was gone. He in¬ formed his father-in-law, and asked all the people whether they had seen her or heard about her whereabouts. He invited many people and ques¬ tioned them, but no one knew anything about her. Three times he invited people to inquire about his wife. The fourth time one visitor said that a stranger had stayed with him and had disappeared during his host’s absence. Then they knew that the stranger had eloped with the chief’s daughter. She had often told her husband, when they quarreled, that she would leave him to go north and would never return.

The man packed up his belongings and set out northward. A day after he had started he killed a buffalo, and was going to cook it. A big wolf came and asked, “A here are you going ? “I am looking for my lost wife. “If you feed me and take care of me, I’ll go with you and help you find your wife.” The young man agreed, and both went on together. They walked until dusk. The next day they continued their journey. The wolf said, “As soon as we get to yonder high hill, I’ll go on, and you will wait for me there.” He waited all day. The wolf got back late at night. “We have not very far to go,” he reported, “but on the way, there are several bad places for you, though not for me.” The man said, “I may get through, I have some holy grandmothers (female manitous). If I meet them, they will help me through the bad places.” They continued walking until they were able to see a little lodge. The man said, “There is one of my grand¬ mothers, walk on, and wait for me ahead.” The wolf obeyed. The man entered, and found his old grandmother sitting within. “Grandchild, what are you looking for?” When she heard his story, she said, “She was taken through here two days ago. It won’t take you long to get there, but I’ll give you some things.” She took out and handed him several pieces of dried mink-skin. “You will reach a large body of water. Put the mink- skins on your feet, and you will cross without difficulty. On your way you will get to your grandfather, and he may give you something else to help you along.” After a while they got to another little lodge, where he found his grandfather, who supplied him with a bow and arrows. The wolf gave him a bunch of his hair. They reached the water. The wolf said, “I shall dig under the water and get across in that way. I’ll wait for you.” He went. I he man tied the mink-skins to his feet and slid across the water as though

1 Ft. Belknap. Cf. Grinnell, p. 39 (Blackfoot) ; Kroeber, (e), p. 120 (Gros Ventre) ; Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 262, (Arapaho).

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it were ice. He had some dirt in a bap;. As it was night before he got across, he dropped some of his mud, and it turned into an island, on which he slept. The next morning he rose and slid to the shore. He proceeded with the wolf until they reached another expanse of water. Both crossed in the same way as before. The wolf said, “On the other side of yonder big hill is the camp where your wife dwells. I am not sure that you will recover her, but perhaps you may. Her present master is very wakan/. Every day people play a game against him, and he always wins; he wins people that are staked on the issue of the game.”

They entered the camp late at night. The man went to the smallest lodge, bidding the wolf wait for him. The wolf said he would remain underground. A hile the man was attended by the old woman of the little lodge, someone called him. He asked what this meant. “You are wanted at the center of the camp-circle,” someone replied. The old woman said, " 1 hat chief has four wakan' servants; if anyone enters his lodge, they know about it. 1 hey will put you to the test to-morrow. If you lose, you become a slave; if you win, you win half the people.” “I will kill him and his guardians,’ said the young man. “ If you do, all the people will be yours.” “I am sure, I can kill him, or beat him at a wakan/ performance.”

1 he man went to the center lodge, where he found the chief, his former wife, and the four guardians. “What are you coming for? “I am seeking this woman. “My waka11’ guardians will do something. If you beat them, you can have your wife and kill me; if not, I will kill you. My men will be ready to-morrow. Next morning the people came to see the contest. There was a large bucket there. The chief said, “My bucket, draw water.” It rolled to the creek and fetched water. His servants built a big fire, the bucket set itself on the fire, and the water began to boil. One of the four helpers stripped, climbed into the bucket, and dropped into the boiling water. After a while he got out again unscathed. “Now it is your turn.” The young man stripped, climbed into the bucket, and stayed there longer than his predecessor. After a long time he peeped out and said, “Let some one make a bigger fire; if not, I’ll come out.” They brought more firewood to heat the water. After some time the hero thought it was enough, the caldron burst in two, and he disappeared underground, emerging at some distance. Thus he won the first contest. The four helpers began to cry. Next, one ot the four waka11’ men picked up his gun and shot at an iron post, breaking off a piece. The young man was asked to do the same. He took one of his blunt arrows, shot it, and broke the post in two. The arrow came whizzing back without ever touching the ground. Thus he won the second contest.

He went to his lodge. The same man again summoned him to appear before the chief on the next day. He went with the half of the tribe he had

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won, and bade them carry wood. Two of the chief s helpers built a big fire, heated rocks and iron, and threw the red-hot rocks into a pit. Then they got into the pit, while masses of hot iron' and rocks were piled up around them and stood there for a long time. A hen the rocks cooled off, they got out and bade their opponent perform the same feat. All the rocks were heated red-hot, and the hero got into the pit. The helpers were going to kill him with heavy weights thrown on his head, but he dived in head foiemost. They thought he would perish from the heat, but he went underground again, and appeared at some distance on a hill, whence he watched his opponents filling the excavation with rocks. Several times he returned to the pit, and escaped underground again. Suddenly he appeared in the chief s lodge. All the guardians cried, because they were beaten. I he young man took his arrows and shot them at the four helpers, splitting each in two. 1 he chief begged to be spared, but the man killed him in the same way. He ordered a fire to be built, and had the corpses burnt. 1 hen he became chief of the tribe. He said that anyone so desiring might make a slave of his former wife. Then he bade the half-breed Crees, to whose band the waka11' man had belonged, that they might keep their horses, pigs and chickens, and continue to multiply in that place, while he would take his people home.

They set out and reached the first big sea. The new chief took a handful of dirt, tied on his mink-skins, and walked on the water. He sprinkled dirt as he walked along, it turned into land, and the people were able to follow him across. When all had reached the other shore, the land disappeared again. They got to the second sea, and crossed it in the same way. After a while they got to the old man who had presented him with the bow and arrows. The people gathered many robes, and their chief presented them to the old man, telling him what had happened. The old man bade him go home. They traveled on and got to the old woman, who was also presented with gifts and was told of the hero’s adventures. The next day they met the wolf sitting on a hill. He said, “Friend, I am going to leave you, from now on I shall no longer accompany you underground.” The hero thanked him for his help, and asked to be allowed to visit his friend’s home. First he went to his own lodge, and brought flannels and little bells. Then he re-joined the wolf. They went below a big rock and walked under the surface of the ground. There was a large hall inside. They found ten able-bodied young men, with plenty of buffalo-meat and venison. These ten men were the wolf’s sons, and an old wolf couple were his parents. The visitor tore up his flannel, fitted each piece around the neck of one of the wolves, and attached some bells. When he had distributed his gifts, he sat down, the wolf said, “I am very grateful to you, now all my children have the flannel and bells they desire.” The old wolves also declared they were

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satisfied. The wolf said, “ I have helped you to recover your wife, and have guided you. Henceforth I shall not be with you. I take away the power I have given you.” The chief was satisfied. After having food served to him, he went above ground and walked back to the camp.

When he had gotten back, he ordered the camp broken. They traveled until sunset, and reached the chief’s old home. All the people were sur¬ prised at the man’s having won so many subjects. When his father-in-law heard he was coining, he resolved to butcher his daughter alive. All the people gathered fine articles and distributed them among the relatives of the deceived husband and oi his false wife. The next day a post was set up. 1 he bad woman was stripped, tied to the post, and a sinew was passed under her arms and across her breasts. Lower down, another sinew was attached. Her father approached her, holding a big knife. “You have given my son-in-law trouble. I have loved you and done for you what I could. Your husband never abused you. What do you mean by running away?” She did not answer. He seized her right hand and cut it off, then he cut off her left hand, her arms, her legs, and finally severed her head. He threw it down and kicked it. He had a pit dug, and the fragments of her body were thrown in. Then he sent a messenger to his son-in-law, offering him a younger daughter for a wife. Though she was very young, he thought her old enough to marry. The chief replied that she was still too small, but that he would wed her within a year. After a year, he accordingly married her.

52. The Woman Stolen by the Buffalo.

An old man was living with his wife, his daughter and son-in-law. His seven sons dwelt apart. Once the young girl went for water and never returned. Her husband told his brothers-in-law, and they all looked for her. They found that she had been kidnapped by a buffalo. Her husband concealed himself where the buffalo used to get their water. At sunset his wife came, and he caught her. “Come home,” said the man, “and we will stay with your brothers.” The woman said she just wanted to go back for her bag. At first the man refused to let her go, but finally he consented. He waited for her to return, but she informed the buffalo her husband was in the brush, requesting them at the same time not to kill him. They captured him and brought him to the camp. His buffalo rival stripped him naked and tied his hands and legs to a tree stump. His former wife made a fire and put the burning ashes on his flesh. She turned into a buffalo-cow. There was a big lake between the Indian and the buffalo camp. The buffalo-woman went close to the Indian camp. She lured people to her own

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camp, where all the buffalo would come out and kill them. One day her former husband’s brother came up to her camp and saw his brother tied to the tree. He went back and told his people. The man by this time was nearly burnt to death. The old buffalo allowed him to return home, but his wife wanted to keep him there. She asked his own father to let her ha\ e him back, and when he refused she killed ten Indians. The people cured him by greasing his scalds. Four times the buffalo-woman tried to re¬ capture him, but failed. She killed people with her horns or her excrements. The Indians would slip when treading on her excrements and get killed.

The old father bade his son make a bow and arrows. For the feathers he used those of the ie'mbin. Then the man offered to race his former w ile, each staking the lives of ten buffalo or Indians, respectively. All the buffalo came to the Indian camp. The man tied an ie'mbin head to his own. They began to race around the lake. 1 he buffalo-woman defecated to make her opponent slip. She ran ahead tor a time. I hen he took his bov and arrows, shot one above his wife and flew above her as a bird, defecating on her back. He defeated her, and ten buffalo were slain. When the buf¬ falo-woman arrived at the goal, her horns were of an orange coloi. The people told her that the buffalo had been killed. She replied, “We shall race again to-morrow. I wager twenty buffalo against twenty Indians. The next day they started before sunrise. The man won again in the same way, and twenty buffalo were killed. Then the woman proposed to fight him in a trial of strength. Her husband knew that she was only vulnerable in her anus and neck. He made a hundred arrows, two of them with a bull’s-eye (?) point. The woman said, “We will fight at noon.” The Indian tied the bird’s head to his own and took his arrows. He walked till he got close to a wood. There he stood near his people. The buffalo rushed at him, hooking everything in her way. When she got close, snorting, the man took his two bull’s-eye arrows and shot them, but they merely glanced off her skin and fell down. The woman now thought he was unable to hurt her. But he took one of his other arrows and shot it at her neck. It went clean through her body, and passed out at the anus. She leapt back. He shot a second arrow at her neck, and continued shooting in this way until he had discharged all his hundred arrows. The buffalo was killed in this way. Before dying, she said, “When I am dead, turn my feet towards the mountains.” But instead, they turned them towards the plains, that is why there are plenty of buffalo in the plains.

The man piled up wood and burnt her body. There was plenty of iron inside. He took none of it. A knife blade leapt out of the fire, and was taken by a child, who hid it under his clothes. The man had warned the boy against taking it, but he disobeyed and was killed by it. Then the man

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picked up all the iron and burnt it again. After this, the buffalo no longer killed people. Then the man found one piece of bone and therefrom re¬ stored his wife to human form. He took her to his father-in-law, who had been continually bewailing the loss of his relatives. “It has been pretty hard for me to recover mv wife. I was nearly killed by the ashes she put on my neck. 1 he old man said, “Do to her whatever you like.” The man slit off her nose anti threw it away. She cried. He then cut off her breasts and killed her.

53. The Abducted Wife.

The people were camping together. One man went into another man’s lodge and stole his wife. The lovers stayed by a small creek. At first they were poor, but after a while they had a nice lodge and good clothes. They moved into the timber and pitched their lodge there. The woman was pregnant. After a while she gave birth to a child. When her husband was out hunting, she felt lonesome, so her husband looked for other people and brought home her brother, who thenceforth lived with her. One day the man had brought home some game. His wife had no water in the lod^e and went out to fetch some. In the darkness she mistook the road, and while dipping in her pail she was caught by something that pulled her be¬ neath the water. She screamed, and her husband and brother ran up, but failed to find her.

The man packed the baby, and moved to the river. The baby was crying incessantly. The husband climbed a hill to look for his kidnapped wife, but found no trace of her. One day the brother called his sister, “Your baby is lonesome, come out.” He sat down by the water. Some¬ thing came up and walked on the waves. At first he was scared, then he recognized his sister. “ I will nurse my boy, don’t throw him in the water, I’ll come close.” “I am glad to see you,” said the boy, “I will tell my brother-in-law, we’ll get you back.” She told him she was human only down to her waist. After nursing the babe, she returned to the water, and her brother noticed that she had a beaver-tail. He told her husband, and they moved close to the place where she had appeared. The woman’s father came there and proposed that they should catch the beaver and seize the woman. They dried up the water at the dam and found the beaver- houses. They watched the entrance. They tried to force the door. “If you see beavers,” said the old man, “catch them.” They broke in the door with an axe and found plenty of beavers surrounding the woman. The woman said, “This beaver wants me only for one more year. During that

1 » i ./ o

216 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

time he will instruct me.” But the people did not listen to her. They tied a rope around her body and dragged her out. lor two nights they con¬ tinued to watch her. She nursed her child, but kept the lower part of her body covered before the people. On the third night they loosened her bonds. She did not eat anything but willow-leaves. When not watched, she swam off to an island. The people followed her, but she turned into a bear. They ran away. As a bear, she had two cubs. She then returned to her husband’s lodge with bear’s paws and a beaver tail. I am having a hard time,” she declared; “I am partly human, partly a beaver, partly a bear.” Her father said, “You talk like an Indian, so you are an Indian.” Her cubs ran off. She felt lonesome and followed them. At last, she returned to camp and hanged herself on account of her tripartite body. Her husband thus addressed the corpse: “I married you first, but you were bad and ran away.” He cut up her body, threw the slices away, and said, “ If you want to go to a bear, you may go; if you wish to go to a beaver, you may go.”

54. The Reformed Adulteress.1

A man was living with his wife. One day he was looking for game. When he returned, his wife was gone. At first he thought she might have gone for wood, but he could not find a trace of her. He returned, wondering where she had gone. A crow came flying and continued to circle around above him. “What are you flying around for? I’ll kill you.” “If you talk to me that way, I won’t tell you where your wife is.” The man then promised him whatever food he wished, and also flannel and bells to wear around his neck. The crow said, “Go to that creek. It will be dark by the time you get there. Travel all the next day till you get to a camp. Your wife is there; a young man from that band has stolen her. Wait till it gets dark. I’ll be there to show you where to go.”

When the young man had reached the camp indicated, the crow came and told him where his wife was. After dark the man peeped into her lodge and saw her there, then he stepped back. When all the people were asleep, he painted himself so as to become irrecognizable, crawled to the lodge, and listened. They were sleeping, and his former wife was lying next to the wall. He pulled up the pegs, raised the cover, and awakened her. She turned her head and asked, “Who are you?” The crow had told him to answer, “I am the man that spoke to you in the brush to-day.” “What do you want?” “I want to elope with you to-night.” She picked up her

1 Ft. Belknap

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property and crawled out. Following the crow’s directions, he did not speak to her for some time. He walked ahead, assuming a different gait from his customary one. She followed him until daylight, when she recog¬ nized him. She was very sorry. He abused her all the way home. When¬ ever he now went out hunting, he asked the crow to watch her, so she could not run off. He once killed a buffalo, dressed it, and butchered it. Then he asked the crow to invite all his friends to the feast. The crow did so, and they ate up the meat. The crow’s favorite piece was the head, the other birds ate the rest. The crow came back, thanked the man, and offered to continue watching his wife. One day the crow told him, “The man who stole your wife before is sneaking around again.” The man watched for his rival then. One day the crow was tired and wanted to fly about, so he said to the husband, “Climb up to the top of a tree with the woman, tie her hands and feet to the trunk, and cut off all the limbs so your rival cannot climb up.” Accordingly, he left his wife on the tree. Before leaving, he said to the crow, “Go wherever you wish, but whenever you get to a high tree look back to see whether she is still there.” While he was gone, her lover came, but he was not able to climb the tree. The man returned and got a travois. He said to the crow, “ Let us take her down and let her cook. Take the rope up there and put it over her head, then peck off her bonds.” To the woman he said, “Tie the end of the rope to that tree.” When the crow had released her, she climbed down the rope. The man said to her, “The next time I’ll put you up the same way. If you don’t behave properly, 1 will not kill yon directly, but I'll chop down the tree so that it will kill you.” The woman was scared. She hardly ever moved from the camp now. One day her husband took her to a hill, rolled a big rock on a buffalo robe, wrapped it up in the robe, tied it with rope, and tied the woman’s ankle to it. When he was through, he rolled the rock down hill, and she was obliged to run after it till it stopped. Then he took her home. She promised that if he stopped his cruel treatment she would behave as she ought to; saying that if she did not do so, he should kill her. Then he promised to stop his mal¬ treatment of her. She lived like a good woman thereafter, and they were happy together. The man then told the crow he could go away.

55. The Game-Thief.

An old man was living with his son in law. Every day the young man went out hunting, but could not get any game. One day he saw a man skinning a big moose. He felt ashamed. The successful hunter covered his meat with willow-leaves and went home. The young man stole the

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meat and carried it to the other side of the hill. He traced a moose-track with one of the legs. When he brought the meat home, his father-in-law rejoiced. “Where did you kill it?” “OVer there, by the spring.” The old man moved to where the meat was and began to roast it, while the women were dressing the skin. The owner of the meat appeared with his wives and claimed the property. The old man was ashamed of his son-in- law. The hunter said, “I just want the skin, you may keep the meat. In our camp there is plenty of meat, our people are not hungry.” He went away. In the evening the young man returned with some game he had really killed. “Where did you steal this meat again?” The young man asked, “What did I ever steal before?” “Yesterday you stole the other man’s moose. To-day he claimed it. He only wants the skin, you may have the meat. Where did you steal this game?” The young man pro¬ tested that he had killed it himself. The old man looked for the tracks, then he believed him. Thereafter the young man was a good hunter.

56. The Meeting in a Cave.1

A Blood Indian was traveling alone. In the night he stopped in a cave. A Kootenay was also traveling all by himself. He went into the same cave, not knowing that anyone was inside. He found the Blood there. Both remained within until daylight. Then they caught hold of each other’s arms and passed outside. Xot understanding each other’s language, they communicated by means of signs and thus discovered to what tribe each belonged. They spread a blanket, smoked, and agreed to stay together as comrades. A long while afterwards, the Kootenay said, “I should like to return home, but let us first have a wrestling-match.” They bet their property against each other. The Blood threw the Koote¬ nay and won the stakes. Then the Kootenay wagered his scalp against the lost property, threw his comrade, and won everything back. Then the Blood staked his scalp. Ihe Kootenay won again, tied a string around the Blood’s scalp, and cut it off. Next they wagered their lives. The Kootenay won again, killed the Blood, and went back to his home across the mountains.

57. The Gambling Contests.2

The people were living together in a camp circle. The chief had two sons, the older of whom cared very much for the fox-dance. One day

1 Cf. Grinnell, (c), p. 63, and Wissler and Duvall, p. 132 (Blackfootl

2 Ft. Belknap.

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the fox dance was to be performed, and all the members prepared for it in their dance lodge. They went around the circumference of the camp. The younger brother thought he would take his older brother’s horse and watch. He did so, and followed the dancers. When his brother saw him, he pushed him off the horse, saying that he did not wish anyone but him¬ self to ride it. The young man walked home, picked up some moccasins made for his older brother, and sneaked away, being ashamed of what had happened. His father asked the people to search for him, but he could not be found.

The first night the young man slept out on the prairie. The next day he traveled on. Towards evening, he reached a small herd of buffalo. He said, ‘‘I am going around to see whether I can hit one of these buffalo with an arrow.” He got ahead of them, and when close to the buffalo he shot one, hitting him in the side so that the arrow stuck in it. The buffalo staggered and fell. The man picked up his robe and approached the dead animal. It had been hit by another marksman on the other side. Each man butchered half of the animal, then they built a fire of buffalo-chips. The other man’s name was Crow. They cooked their food. Crow brought his share to the young man, saying, ‘‘Friend, eat what I have cooked.” The young man reciprocated. They ate. Crow went west, without wait¬ ing for the young man, who followed after him. In the evening, they found the same herd ahead of them. The boy sneaked up and killed one buffalo; as he was going up to butcher it, he found that it had also been shot by Crow from the other side. Again they built a fire and cooked. Crow waited on the boy, then the latter reciprocated, as before. When they had eaten, Crow departed. The next day the boy traveled on. Late in the evening he reached a small herd. Sneaking up, he shot an arrow at one of the buffalo. Going to butcher it, he again found Crow’s arrow sticking in the other side. They cooked and exchanged their shares again, then they ate without speaking to each other. Crow departed. The next day the boy continued his journey. In the evening he got to a small herd of buffalo. He killed one, which had also been shot by Crow. They cooked, exchanged their shares, and ate, then Crow left. The next morn¬ ing the boy continued traveling. About noon he saw a man approaching, so he sat down. Crow sat down in front of him. “To-morrow noon,” said Crow, “we will play a game, but before that we will smoke.” He filled a black pipe and offered it to the boy. The boy took out his red pipe, filled it, and handed it to Crow. Both smoked, exchanging pipes from time to time. Crow said, “Do you understand what I told you? To¬ morrow we are going to play a game.” The boy agreed. Crow went off. The boy slept.

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Earlv the next dav Crow came and said, “d o-day we will play a game. ' Thev were near a rock. Crow untied a bundle, containing a netted wheel and two darts. He gave one stick to the boy, and said, “When I roll this wheel, it will be your turn to throw.” Each wagered some of his clothes. The boy hit the net, Crow missed. They walked back. Crow rolled the hoop again. The boy hit it, Crow missed again. Crow rolled it again The boy hit it, Crow missed. Crow said, “If you hit it again, you win the first game.” They threw the darts again; Crow missed, while the boy hit the net and won the first game. Crow bet again. “It will now be my turn to throw first.” The boy rolled the hoop, Crow hit the net, and the boy missed. Eour times Crow hit the net, and the boy missed. Thus Crow retrieved what he had lost. The bov now staked all his belongings except his clout on the next game. Crow said, “This will be the last of our games. If you win, you get all my clothes. We will do more, we will wager our scalps.” The boy took the hoop and rolled it. Crow hit it, and the boy missed. Crow won four times in succession. “I have beaten you,” said Crow, and scalped the boy. Then he said, “I don’t want to see you go bare-headed, I will cover you with a buffalo robe.” And he covered him with a robe. “What will you do now?” he asked. “Eight days from now I shall bring more stakes to wager against vou. My father is a big chief, and I have many relatives.” Crow said, “The first one to get here shall plant a stick in the ground.” They separated.

The boy quickly traveled homewards. It had taken him five davs and four nights to reach the gambling site, but he made the return trip so as to get home on the fourth evening. Instead of going to his father, he went to another chief, who was sitting with bowed head before the fire. The chief said. Old woman, rise, a visitor has come. She stirred the fire.

“ Who are you, stranger ? ” “I am So-and-so’s lost son.” The chief raised him and kissed him. He told the boy that everyone had sought him in vain and that he himself had vowed to adopt him as a son if he were found, not having any children of his own. They arranged his bed, and gave him fine clothes to wear. 1 he boy said, “lather, I have come to get people to accompany me to a place where I was beaten in a game. I should like your band to go there.’ The crier was summoned to herald the news. All traveled to the gambling site. On the fourth morning, the boy said, “I ’ll go ahead to yonder big rock.” He dressed up, took a stick that "as painted ted, and with his tobacco pouch and pipe he rode up to the rock. At a short distance, he saw Crow approaching from the other side with the boy’s scalp suspended from a pole. The boy arrived first and planted his stick. When Crow got there, he put his stick next to the boy’s, ihe boy filled his pipe, and they smoked each other’s pipes. Both Crow’s

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and the boy’s followers camped near-by. The two opponents went to their respective bands. The boy said to his father, “ I should like to have a couple of women.” The chief appointed an old man to get two of the prettiest girls. The boy was satisfied with them. “1 want ten women that have never been married.” The women were called. “I want eight young men.” The eight young men came. “Now I want some one to ride a race-horse for me.” A herd of horses was around the chief’s camp. The boy said, “If anyone wishes to ride for me, 1 will fill my pipe for him and give him a bucketful of food. After the race is over, he may marry the ten women and I will give him ten horses from this herd.” He passed the pipe to the young men present, but none accepted it. He then asked his father to send for more young men. Again he filled and passed the pipe, but the young men went out without smoking. Then he had the young boys summoned. He passed the pipe, making the same offer as before, but no one accepted it.

At last, a poor boy living with his grandmother rode up on his crippled horse and inquired why the pipe was being passed. When he heard the reason, he accepted the pipe and smoked it. All those within the lodge raised their hands (as a token of their gratitude). The poor boy ate the berries set before him. He had a wooden whistle suspended from his neck by a buckskin string painted red. His hair was unkempt and lousy. The chief’s son had the boy combed, then every one went to the race-ground. From the other side, Crow and his people were approaching. The chief’s son said, “I will choose my game, we shall have a horse-race.” Crow selected a rider. 1 he boy said, “We will just run once. I bet everything belonging to me; it you win, you can strip me naked and drive me away.” Crow accepted these terms. The riders started. There was a long ridge there leading to a cut-bank; ropes were stretched at the bank to prevent the horsemen from tumbling down. They started. The orphan was in the rear. Suddenly he got ahead. He took his whistle, blew it, turned into a hawk, and, clinging to his horse’s mane, leapt over the rope and descended with ease. Crow’s rider turned back when he reached the bank. The boy won. All Crows people cried. The boy approached Crow and spread a blanket. “Give me my scalp first.” Taking out his knife, he scalped Crow. Then he had all the property belonging to Crow’s people taken away and put in his camp. Crow’s people were put into an enclosure and ordered to strip. 1 hey were told to walk away naked. All of them were crying. All the clothes were laid in a pile. The boy bade Crow wait a while. He called his people together; to his horseman he gave ten horses and two of the largest lodges. He asked him what else he wanted, and granted all his wishes. He gave the orphan sixty horses. He divided the stallions among his relatives and gave the mares and colts to the old women and children.

222 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

He divided all his property among the people. He had forty horses brought, and also some game. Taking pity on Crow, he told him he could take these things along. “You won the first contest, I have won the second contest. If you wish to wager your people, I am willing to play you again. Crow declined, and moved away with his people. The victor’s older brother, hearing of his success, came with the horse from which he had pushed the boy and offered it to him. “No, I don’t want it, you have thrown me down. You loved your horse better than me.’’

The camp was broken. The next day they set out to chase buffalo. All started. The chief’s son saddled up, and went towards the buffalo. He saw his older brother chasing buffalo and knocked him down. “Never mind,” he said to his people, “he threw me away, now I will throw him away. Let none help him.” Everyone went home with the meat. 1 he boy was the last to go home. For several days they dried meat and enjoyed them¬ selves dancing. They went home and pitched their camp. 1 he boy’s real and his adopted father were the head-chiefs. One day a young man came in and told the boy he was going to make a new kind of dance, but before starting it he wanted to tell how he had obtained it. “\esterday I was out on the hills and lay down. Beyond the hill I heard a man and a woman singing. It sounded as if they were coming towards me. I walked towards them slowly, thinking it might be enemies. A male and a female prairie- dog were coming along. I greeted them, “Haul” He answered, “Haul”

I asked where they were going. The male answered that he was coming to show people a new kind of dance. “I’ll show you, follow me.” I followed them into a big hole. There was a lodge inside with a smoke-hole. I saw ropes stretched across, and feathered dance-ornaments were hanging from them. The prairie-dog went to the next lodge, and lots of young men came in. The prairie-dog told them he was going to give a dance to the people. He had the young men singing several songs for him. He asked me whether I had learned them, then he bade me look at the buckskin strings and feather ornaments, and I looked at everything. The men put on the ornaments and danced. When they were through, he asked whether I could make a dance like it. One rule is always to camp in the same place (?). The prairie-dog then told me to go home and get up the dance. Accordingly, I came out and told you about it.” Many young men were invited and were taught the new dance. They learned their songs, then they were told to bring their guns and arrows. Each man was delegated to kill such and such a bird or other animal. They separated and brought back hawks, crows, owls, gophers, prairie-dogs, badgers, and buffalo-hoofs. The skins were dried and tanned, cut in strips, and hung on ropes. The next day they began the dance. All the young men came to watch or to join in the per-

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formance. W hen they were through dancing, the performers took off their apparel and gave it away. The master of ceremonies told them this was the Big Dog dance. Many people joined the society.

After a long time a messenger came to the chiefs son, asking him to visit Crow. Crow said, “I have been prosperous and as well off as ever. We must not gamble any more, but we must scalp as long as people live. That is what I wanted to tell you. Thus warfare originated.1

5S. Lesbian Love.2

A man was living with his wife and sister. The woman wished to have intercourse with the girl. While her husband was hunting, she eloped with her sister-in-law. The man did not know where they could have gone. He looked for them in the camp, and finally concluded that they had been killed. He grieved very much over their death. In midwinter, he once went out hunting. Remembering the two women, he began to cry. He thought they must have perished from the cold. He ascended a hill. There he heard a noise. He had no gun or knife, nevertheless he walked towards the sound. His wife and sister being dead, he also wished to die. Towards sunset he reached the place where he had heard the noise, and caught sight of a human head. He recognized his sister, and immediately guessed that his wife was also there. Stepping nearer, he saw smoke rising from among the bushes and heard a child crying by the fireplace. He could hear the women talking. His wife was playing with the infant. He knew that she must have married his sister. He saw his sister nursing the child. Ap¬ proaching, he asked, “Which of you has seduced the other?” His sister answered, “Your wife persuaded me to elope with her.” The infant was continually crying. It looked like a football; it had no bones in its body, because a woman had begotten it. The man killed the child, then he bade the women go home. When they were near the camp, he told his sister to walk ahead. Then he killed his wicked wife with his knife. His sister ran to camp and told a man she met that her brother was slaying his wife, begging him to save her. But before the stranger arrived, the husband had killed his wife and severed her limbs from the body. He did not kill his sister. Though the slain woman had many relatives, none cared to avenge her death.

1 The equivalence of gambling and fighting is the closing sentiment of a Blackfoot myth (Wissler and Duvall, p. 133).

2 Cf. Jones, p. 151 (Fox).

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59. Equus Stuprator.1 »

A horse was carrying a heavy load of meat. As his mistress was leading him, equus naribus cum vulva ludere conatus est. lhe next day the camp was broken. When the man was gone, the stallion tried to possess the woman, and began to bite her shoulders. She tied him to a post, and ran towards a mud-hole. Tearing the rope, the horse followed her, losing his burden. The woman climbed a tree. The stallion went around it, dug up the earth, and caused the tree to fall. The woman jumped to another tree, but this was likewise uprooted. The woman tried to hide among the fruits, but her pursuer laid her on a log and gratified his passion, thereby killing her. When her husband returned at night, he did not find his wife home, and went to seek her. He saw the stallion s, as well as his wife s, footprints, and found his wife dead. After burying the corpse, he pursued the stallion and shot him at sight. Returning to camp, he told his friends what had happened.

60. Cants Stuprator.

A man killed a moose. His wife went to fetch it, and packed the meat on a dog. The dog barked and refused to return. She waited for him and finally went back. When she got close to him, he commenced to wag his tail and looked into her eyes. The woman said, “If you will not walk, I ’ll kill you on the spot.” The dog rose and embraced her with his legs, throwing her down. She tried to get away, but he prevented her. “I shall kill you, unless you let me do as I wish.” Then he satisfied his lust. The woman was ashamed and did not want to go back to camp. Her husband went to look for her, and found the meat on the ground. For a long time the dog and the woman could not be found. At last, some other people found them. The woman had given birth to seven pups. Her husband killed the dog when the woman told him what had happened. He informed the rest of the people.

61. Lignum Mentulae Vice Fungens.

A hunter heard someone laughing. Prope risores cum advenisset, duas mulieres conspexit quae ridentes ligno pro mentula utebantur. The women caught sight of the man and broke the piece of wood ita ut utrius —

1 Cf. Wissler and Duvall, p. 152 (Blackfoot); Lowie, p. 294 (Shoslione); Kroeber, (e), p. 114 (Gros Ventre); Dorsey and Kroeber, p. 247 (Arapaho).

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que earurn vulvae dimidium haereret. Then they went home, but found that they could not urinate. The man also went home. He was informed by his grandmother that two women were nearly dead. He offered to doctor them. When his grandmother told the women, they promised him a liberal compensation. 1 he man took eight porcupine quills, made a small bow and arrows, and tied the quills to the arrows. Then he bade the old woman erect a tent in a secluded spot. There he placed his pa¬ tients. Four times he raised their legs, then he shot an arrow into each ol the split pieces of wood and extracted them. The women paid him a handsome fee.

62. The Two Hunters.

Two men were traveling together. They were starving, so that they could hardly walk. Only one of them had a gun, and he had but a single cartridge. They caught sight of a buffalo. “I’ll shoot.” “No, I’ll shoot first. dhe man with the gun crawled along, followed by his com¬ panion. Just as the man in front was pulling the trigger, his comrade thrust his moistened finger into the shooter’s anus. The shot went wide of the mark, and the man in the rear laughed aloud. The other man would have shot him, but he had no more cartridges.

63. The Goose and her Lover.

All the people were on the warpath. One man was always lagging behind to embrace a large white goose. When the tents were pitched on a hill, the man lived with his people. The goose came to the camp to look for her lover. When she found him, she seated herself beside him. He fled, but she pursued him. He ran towards the brush, but she continued hovering above him. At last, he offered her some of his property, and she then let him alone.

64. Mentula Loquens.

The people were starving. They were looking for buffalo. A young man went on a hill to look out for them. He urinated towards the buffalo. Tunc penem erectum hoc modo allocutus: “Videsne boves?” To this it replied, “Yes, I see them,” and continued repeating these words without stop. It was the young man’s wedding night, and he felt very much ashamed. He walked about, trying to stop the noise with his hands. He

226 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [5 ol. 15 ,

failed to do so. A man tried to help him, but in vain. Men tula semper eadem verba iterabat. A friend wanted to, take him home, but the young man was too much ashamed. Not even a man noted for his dreams could do anything for him. At last, a young man said, 1 our mother-in-law must hold it in her hands.” The hero said he would sooner die than resort to this remedy, but at last he yielded. His head was covered with a robe, his mother-in-law seized it, and it stopped talking.

65. The Punished Lover’s Revenge.

There was an Indian who had many wives. A young man once came in at night and ravished one of them. Alien he wished to depart, she held him, crving for help. Her husband and the other women awoke and seized the intruder. The husband said to the woman, “Ad viri nares vulvam team attere.” She obeyed. Tunc mentulam ita ligaverunt ut mingere non posset. They also tied his arms, and then let him go. He went to the top of a hill, and stayed there for several days. His member gradually swelled to the size of a horse’s head. Four Indian horsemen who saw him were so amused at the sight that they fell from horseback. The other people thought they had been killed by the man and pursued him. Alien they saw him, all began to laugh. They called him Big- Laugh-Maker. The young man was so ashamed that he spoke to no one. At last, his brother relieved him. Both the young man and his brother were very angry. The old husband was out hunting once, and the woman who had been ravished was lagging behind the rest of the party. The punished lover followed her with his friends. He went ahead of them. Alien the woman saw him, she declared that she was glad to see him. Then he ravished her. He called all his friends, and each of them satisfied his passion. Post coitum ad omnes corporis partes mentulas attriverunt. Then they were even with her.

66. Big-Frog.

Long ago, there lived a crazy old man named Big-Frog, who used to play tricks on all the other Indians. Half of the Indians were going in one direction, and the remainder in the opposite direction. Big-Frog hid his two sons at the parting of the roads and killed his son-in-law. He said to his son, “Some one has slain my son-in-law.” Another man seized the dead man’s headdress and Frog went after him and his people. He slew his brother-in-law, though his sister begged him to spare her husband’s

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life. 1 hen she asked the other people to kill Frog’. One man, named Buffalo, seeing his brother killed, approached Frog. “You bad man, you have slain my brother. brog replied, “I fear no one, he slew my son-in- law.” Buffalo proposed to fight in the plain. Then he shot off arrows, killing Frog’s sons. Frog pretended to have been killed himself. Two boys passed his supposed corpse. One of them said, “Aha! that is the way you ought to lie dead in the road.” He struck an arrow into Frog’s eye, and, seeing it move, he said, “1 think he is not dead yet.” The boys went to tell Buffalo. Buffalo said, “He is a tricky old man, perhaps he is merely counterfeiting death.” As soon as Buffalo approached, Frog ran away, and his wife stealthily seized an ax to kill Buffalo. She approached Buffalo, saying, “Kiss me, I love you.’ But Buffalo was not deceived, and when she approached he killed her. All of Frog’s friends were slain. Some old people are still living who witnessed this. Before this happened, the Frog and the Buffalo people were wont to camp together.

67. The Badger.

The badger is the strongest of the animals. Two comrades1 saw a badger making a hole in the ground. One of them caught it by both its feet and tried to pull it out, but was too weak. Then both men tried to¬ gether, and failed. One man then released his hold, but the other, holding the badger’s feet, stuck his arm in deep. The badger caught his hand, and the youth could not get away all night. All the Indians came to help him. The next day, at sunset, the badger let him go.

68. A Hunting Adventure.

Two men were traveling together. One had killed a buffalo. They returned to the spot at sunset, pitched a tent, prepared pemmican, and threw small slices of meat outside. One man heard a noise outside. “Some¬ thing is eating outside.” Both seized their guns, and crawled out by the back of the tipi. They saw it was a bear, and fled. The bear ran and killed one man, the other fled back to camp.

69. The Horse-Thief.

A man was traveling by himself. He saw an old camp-site. He tracked the people. He saw one person riding by on horseback. Seeing it was a

1 Said to be identical with the heroes of “Sharpened-Leg,” p. 186.

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woman, he frightened the horse. She fell off, and he seized both her and the horse. Then he took them to a hill and' sat down. At sundown he saw another horse. Tying up the first horse in the brush, he ordered the woman to remain where she was. He scared the second horse, which dropped its rider, the woman’s husband. Thus the man got a wife and two horses, which he took home.

70. The White Buffalo.

Many Stoneys were on the plains in search of buffalo. Only one old man remained at home. One of the buffalo signaled with a mirror that he was going to kill the old man. He ran straight towards the camp. The dogs pursued him, but he reached the camp. The old man took his gun and approached the bull. The women all shouted, “Shoot him from afar, or he’ll kill you!” He shot at, but apparently missed the bull. Then the buffalo came slowly towards him, suddenly beginning to run. The man fled, but was hooked and thrown up into the air several times. The third time the women spectators saw the blood pouring from his body. The fourth time they saw his body and heart torn to pieces. Still the buffalo continued hooking him. At last he walked off. But the shot had not gone wide of its mark, and soon he fell dead. It was a white buffalo. The women took the man’s flesh home and piled it up in a heap.

71. The Four Trappers.

Four men were traveling about to set beaver-traps. Three of them we e successful, but the fourth did not catch any beaver. He got angry and defecated into the others’ traps. But one trap closed on him, cut off his testicles, and killed him. The other trappers went off. One of them went to a wood, where there were many “bull-dogs” (flies). He defecated into their nest, and they bit his rump and scrotum. He could not ward them off with his hands. He threw the excrements into the trees, and raised his hand to his mouth. When he got home, his body swelled up, and he died. The two remaining trappers walked in the wood. They heard a sound resembling that of snapping twigs and thought it was a moose. Instead, it was a large fish (sinde'wia'ga) jumping about among the dead logs and splitting them in two. The men were frightened and fled, but there was a wind blowing and the fish scented them. He roared like a mountain-lion and pursued them. They did not know what to do. They ran to Skunk, asking him to kill the fish, but he was related to the fish and killed the men. Then the fish ate them.

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72. The Rivals.

Two young men were camping together. They both desired a young girl in the camp. One of them said, “I want to go to her first.” The other refused, but finally consented to let him go first. The man went in, but afterwards refused to let his comrade enter. The man outside got angry, seized a bull-dog flies’ nest and approached the lodge. lie threw the nest at the lovers’ genitals. The flies bit the lovers, so that both jumped up and down with pain. The girl cried continually, and the other inmates of the lodge were also bitten, while the man outside held the door, so that no one could escape. At last, he released his hold, and fled. The girl could not walk at all, but had to be carried. Her lover also could hardly move. His rival waited for him. “What’s the matter, why don’t you walk?” The injured man did not answer. Again he asked him. Then both raised their guns and killed each other.

73. The Bear and the Buffalo.

An Indian going out hunting was crossing a ridge and looked down on a lake below. On the other side were three buffaloes lying down, while one of them was drinking water from the lake. Close by a big bear was walking in the brush. He saw the four buffaloes, and apprqached the one in the water, which began to paw the ground and raise its tail. The buffalo tried to hook the bear, but he seized its horns, pulled it into the water and drowned it. In the same way he killed two of the other buffaloes, leaving only the oldest bull. The surviving buffalo was furious. He bellowed, and shook the mud off his body. Walking along, he made a noise like that of a drum. The bear was frightened. He tried to run away, but the old bull hooked him repeatedly, so that his body never touched the earth until he was killed. Then the bull ran around wild. The Indian was frightened, ran home, and told the people what he had seen.

74. Snow.

A man was out hunting. In the night he did not come back. His wife thought at first he was staying with another woman. Then she dreamt that she was tracking him. His footsteps were very, very small. After a while, she found him wrestling with Wa (Snow). Wa was the stronger and killed the man. The woman took a sled and brought the corpse home, where she buried it in the trees.

230 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

75. The Offended Feet.

A man was traveling by himself. He sat eating. He put grease on both his braids. Some people came to kill him. He talked to his feet. His feet were angry. “We won t help you, they said, feel joui hail. The man said, “That is all right. When I am dead, people use my hair in scalping me. No one uses you, except dogs.” Then the feet ran as fast as possible, so he was not caught. The people did not find his tracks. When they saw them at last, they said, “These tracks look old, they can’t belong to the man we are after. 1 hus he escaped.

76. Two-Faces.1

A woman once gave birth to a child with one face in front and another behind. The one in the back did not speak. People stared at the child, so that it was ashamed and died without being sick.

77. First Meeting with the Cree.

Once nearly all the Stoneys were sick. The sick ones were put into one lodge; nearly all of them died. The dead were not buried, but left on the ground, and* the camp was abandoned. A few people ran away ; only an old couple and two boys not related to them remained there. They subsisted on whatever food they could get. In the summer, the old man tried to kill beavers and was assisted by the boys. But, after skinning the animals, the old woman gave the boys no food, so they nearly starved. The next day they were given just a little piece. After the middle of the summer, the boys traveled a little. The older -boy had a knife. They killed birds for food. From time to time they returned to the old couple. The second time they stayed with them longer than before. In the fall they went traveling again. They saw many ducks and geese, and also heard the sound of laughing and singing. Going nearer, they struck a big lake, where they found the birds making the noise. The birds felt lone¬ some, because they were unable to find people. They began to fly around. Their chief said, “We’ll give some food to these poor boys.” They went close to the boys, and one of them fell right down at the boy’s feet to be eaten by them. When they were through eating, they returned, to the old couple. They slept there one night, then they traveled again. This time

1 Anun'kadaTian inde.

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a white goose heard them and supplied them with food as the other bird had done. They returned to the Stonev couple, but as they did not give them any food they went traveling again. They again went to the birds, and as they came nearer, they heard the sound of shooting. Walking in that direction, they found a horse’s tracks, and going further some buffalo meat, which they cooked. Then they continued following the tracks and met a party of ( ree making a buffalo-pen. The Cree adopted them, and they did not return to the old couple. The old people quarreled about them, lhe man said, “You did not give them enough to eat, that is why they did not return.” The woman said, “We will track them.” Accord- tracked them to the Cree camp. They asked for the boys, but the Cree answered, “You did not feed them well, we will keep the boys.” This is how the Stoneys first met the Cree.

78. First Meeting with Whites.

(a)

Once Inktu'mni was traveling about with many Indians. He struck the Saskatchewan river. There he killed five big moose-bucks, skinned them, and made a boat. He descended the river, passing some falls. After a while he got to the sea. He tied five canoes together, and continued traveling for eight days. He reached an island. There he met the first White people ever seen by the Indians. They traded with him, and he returned. Prior to this, the Indians only had buckskin garments, now they had cloth garments. It was spring when Inktuhnni set out; when he returned it was fall.

(b)

A Stoney once went out hunting with his bow and arrows. He walked eastward and struck a river. There he met a White man carrying a gun slung across his shoulder. The Stoney was frightened by the stranger’s beard, and ran away. The White man called after him, “Wait, don’t run away.” The Indian stopped, and the White man shook hands with him. The Indian tried to run away again. The White man saw the Stoney ’s bow and arrows; he thought the Indian was poor and gave him his gun and powder. He invited the Indian home. They got to three other White men. The White man made a mark and tried to teach the Indian to shoot, but as soon as the Stoney heard the report of the gun he was terrified and ran away. The White man brought him back and showed him how to aim straight and how to pull the trigger. The Stoney, how¬ ever, ran away again when he heard the report.

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79. The Punitive Expedition.

%

(a)

Some people were camping in the winter. They had no feathers for their arrows. An old man told his three sons and son-in-law to try to get feathers from his brother, who lived in another camp. On their way, they saw lots of feathers in a place where geese had been killed. They picked them up. The youngest man looked around and saw a crane’s head. He struck it with his bow, and it made a noise. He told his com¬ panions, “This crane’s head is saying that we’ll get into trouble. You can get all the feathers you want in the camp, but don’t touch a lame girl there, or you’ll be killed.” They all listened to what the crane was saying when he struck its head again. They then went to the camp. The three boys told their uncle that their father had sent them to get feathers. He gave them all he had. One of them, before going home, wanted to steal the lame woman. His brother-in-law warned him, “Don’t touch the lame woman.” Nevertheless, he abducted her. They went homeward, pursued by their hosts. The lake was frozen; they caught up to them there. The oldest was killed first. The second had shot off all his arrows and asked his uncle for more arrows. “Yes, I’ll give you a spear too.” He threw the spear at him and killed him. The old man tried to kill the youth who had dreamt about the crane, but the spear would not pierce him. He said, “If I wanted to live, you could never kill me, but as my brothers are dead I also wish to be dead. Cut my little fingers, and I shall die.” They cut his fingers, and thus killed him.

The old man’s son-in-law was the only one to return home. For a while he did not speak for grief. His father-in-law questioned him. At last he said, “I come back alone, all my brothers-in-law have been killed.” The old man sent him to other bands with tobacco. All came to his camp. The bad old man 1 was camping close by the lake. He was continually watching in all directions, except towards the lake. The people came in canoes, unobserved. It was a fine, calm day. At last the old man saw the water stirring. He was frightened and warned the people not to sleep that night. The son-in-law’s father was in the camp to be attacked. The young man begged his companions to spare his father’s life. They bade him tell his father to stay in the dog-house during the fight, but in the dark¬ ness he mistook the bad old man for his father and warned him instead. The bad old man did not tell any of his people, but hid in the dog-house.

1 Apparently the slain men’s uncle is meant.

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3 lie people attacked the camp and killed their enemies. The son-in-law killed more than any one else. His father was also killed. He went to the dog-house and said, ( ome out. I hey pulled him out and found their enemy. The young man said, “Don’t kill him directly, cut him up bit by bit. bo they severed limb alter limb from his body. The young man was mourning his father’s death. “If I see the one who killed him, I shall do tins to him, he said. Saying which, he slashed and killed himself with his knife.1

(b)

A man was living with his six sons and a boy adopted from another tribe. He told his sons, “We have no feathers, you had better go and get some from my younger brother.” His brother lived with another tribe. The boys set out. they crossed a big lake, from the middle of which they could see many lodges. They asked their uncle to get feathers for them, and he did. It wras in the winter, and the tribe was moving camp. One man in the tribe had three wives and a great deal of mysterious power. One of the visitors wished to steal his youngest wife. The other boys warned him, but he seized the woman as she was carrying her husband’s headdress. The other wives tried to hold her back, but could not, so they merely wrested away the headdress and told their husband when he came home. 3 'he old man wras in a fury. He called on all his spirits to destroy the boys. They were paddling in the middle of the lake, and got stuck in it by the old man’s magic. They asked the fastest among them, who -wore a jack-rabbit tail, to run home and ask their father for help. 3'hey wTere shooting all their arrow’s against the enemy and wTere in need of more. At last, they had only their bowT-spears left. The fast runner at first did not w’ant to go, seeing that his brothers were being killed, but finally he ran off. 33ie enemy shot at him, but he was not hurt. He ran for two days before he reached his father’s camp. At first he w’ould not speak at all. When his father begged him to speak, he at last announced his brothers’ death and told how it had come about. He also brought back the feathers.

In the spring, the old man prepared a great deal of tobacco and sweet-

1 The following fragmentary version was also told at Morley: A man was living with his six children and his son-in-law. He was making bows and arrows, but had no feathers, so he asked two of his sons to get them. They went to the gulls’ camp. One gull had died, and his corpse was lying there. The younger boy took up the skull and sounded it. It said that the boys would steal gull women and would have to fight. They tracked the gulls. When they reached the camp, the chief asked, “You bad boys, why are you tracking us? ” “We are hunting for feathers.” The chief asked the birds to give their feathers to the boys, then he moved camp. The boys stayed in the camp of an old woman, who lived with her granddaughter. The old woman joined her people and told them the boys had stolen the girl. The gulls returned, killed the boys, and took back the woman. The father of the boys wanted to fight the gulls, but his people were afraid and let them alone.

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grass then he sent his son and his son-in-law to look for people. They visited six different bands, inviting each to. join them in their war-expedition. The warriors from the six bands all gathered together, then the young man sent a messenger to bid his father join them. At noon, they all set out to avenge the murder of the five boys. They got to a big liver, "which they crossed in two hundred canoes. One of the enemies had a wild dog, which was generally tethered. When the surviving son saw him, he said, “That dog belongs to the murderer of my brothers.” The owner of the dog did not feed him well in order to keep him wild. 1 he boys father also had a fight¬ ing dog. The enemy retreated to the woods. I he attacking party landed and tied up their canoes. The adopted boy had been born among the enemy; he sought his real father and told him they were going to fight. His father asked him, whether he had a wife, and he said he had, though this was not true. Some of the enemy did not believe him. The owner of the dog released his animal. The boy gave him plenty to eat to render him less savage. Returning to his own side, he said, “We had better turn back, those people have a wild dog.” The people got scared and turned back. Crossing the river, there was a violent gale. One man was fright¬ ened, thinking they were going to be capsized. Then the old man counseled them to land again. They returned to shore, tied up their knives, and got ready to fight. In the night, when all the enemy were asleep, they approached quietly, tore the lodges down, and killed a great number of the sleepers. The owner of the dog was roused by the noise and released his dog, which killed many of the assailants. They could not kill him either with knives or arrows, so half of them fled. The adopted boy, finding his father slain, committed suicide. Two of the people were hiding in a canoe. The dog scented and killed them, and ate them up. One man hid in the dog’s house, where the dog did not find him. One of the assailants paddled along the shore to catch up to his retreating friends, bidding them wait for him. But they took him for an enemy. The runner cried, “That’s the man that killed my brothers,” so they killed him.

SO. War T ales.

Long ago the Stoneys were camping near the Saskatchewan. Some Kootenay were living in the mountains. The Stoneys made a raid on their camp, and the Kootenay ran away. Only two of them remained and hid on a tree. The Stoneys thought that all had fled, and pursued them, catch¬ ing some, while others escaped to the mountains, whence they rolled down large rocks on the pursuers. The Stoneys turned back. One Kootenay

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squaw ran back towards the old camp with her child. The Stoneys plun¬ dered the camp, found the two hidden boys, and carried them off, singing a war-song.

The next winter the Shuswap came to the Stoneys on their snowshoes and made friends with them. One Shuswap, however, was angry on ac¬ count of the attack on the Kootenay and stayed alone, never untying his snowshoes. At last he succeeded in embroiling the Stoneys and Shuswap. In the fight the Stoneys captured two women and three children. In the spring the captives ran away at night. For a while they could not get any food except gopher. The Shuswap thought both were dead. After a while one of them starved. Of the Kootenay captives, one did not care to live with the Stoneys and committed suicide. The other Kootenay took a Stoney girl to wife, and had a boy. Afterwards he also committed suicide.

There was a Stoney named Saddle. His father had killed six Shuswap in a battle, but one of them escaped because of his many dreams. After the fight was over, Saddle asked, “Where is my brother?” “He is chasing the long-haired Shuswap.” Saddle followed his brother. His brother had a knife tied to either hand. After going some distance, Saddle heard a noise. The Shuswap had taken away his brother’s knives and pushed them into his sides, nearly killing him. “Brother, this Shuswap drove his knife in here.” Saddle pursued the Shuswap, a knife tied to each of his hands. He cried, “Come here, I wish to kill you.” The Shuswap knew that there was just one thing Saddle was afraid of: dried wood. Accord¬ ingly, he used a club of dried wood, and Saddle fled. The Shuswap went to a steep mountain. There a Stoney attacked him and slashed him again and again with his knife. For a long time the Shuswap remained alive. He said, “If I wanted to, I could kill all the Stoneys.” Saddle returned, and cut off his head and his long hair. Then the Shuswap ’s body stood up headless. A great deal of blood issued from it, and there were many snakes and frogs inside the body. The eyes of the head remained open. Saddle took the scalp.

The Stoneys and Cree were fighting on account of women. The Stoneys killed many of the Cree and lost only one of their own men. The Cree were angry. They again came to the Saskatchewan to attack the Stoneys. One of them, however, said, “We had better go home, the Stoneys are hard fighters.” Seven Cree went to the Stoney camp north of Edmonton and hid in the brush. The Stoneys moved camp, only one of them remaining

236 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Yol. IV,

behind. When he finally went after the rest of his people, singing as he went along, the seven Cree approached and nearly killed him with a shot in the shoulder. The Cree thought he was dead, but he supported him¬ self and began to shoot back at them. The Stoneys ran back and were attacked by the Cree, who wounded Jacob Bear ’s-Paw1 in the wrist, break- ino’ his bone. The Cree made an enclosure, but the Stoneys leapt in and knifed them. The Stoneys are called Hopa'maksa, because they cut their enemies’ throats. The Stoneys killed all the Cree. The creek where this took place is called Cahl'abi-wintca'-kte-bi-wa'pta (Cree-them-they-killed creek).

There were two comrades. One went traveling, while the other stayed at home. The traveler did not return; he had been killed. His comrade went on a war-expedition. He arrived at the enemy’s camp and entered the chief’s lodge. The chief’s wife offered him water, but he did not drink it. The chief offered him his pipe, but he refused to smoke it. After a while, the chief looked for something behind the bed and showed his visitor his dead friend’s heads. The young man was furious. The chief took a knife and, offering it to his guest, said, “Kill me.” The man would not take it, then the chief stabbed him with it, but without killing him. The young man pulled out the blade and killed his enemy with it. When all the people rushed in to capture him, he killed some more, and fled. They pursued him, but he turned into an antelope and escaped.

The Kootenay were fighting the Stoneys and were repulsed. They fled back to the mountains. Two women, one of them blind, strayed away from their people. In the winter they would pick the bones of buffalo discarded by the Stoneys. They had hardly any clothes. One Kootenay, who had seen them running at a distance, reported it to the chief. The chief said, “In the spring we shall look for them.” In the spring they were found by their people. One of the women had no clothes, using a coating of mud in place of moccasins. The Kootenay provided both with food and clothes.

A Kootenay stole a Piegan’s son, took him across the mountains, and kept him lor a year. He owned many good horses, and one of them was a fast race-horse. The young Piegan said to himself, “In the summer I shall go back to the people.” One summer night he fled with two of his

1 Father of one of the present chiefs.

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captor’s best horses. The fugitive knew only one path, while the Kootenay knew all the roads. Ihe Kootenay told his people to head off the young man by traveling along the shortest route. They caught sight of him and pursued him, but his horse was fast and he got across the mountains. The Kootenay chased him beyond Porcupine Hill. The Piegan reached the top of a hill, and tied up his horse in the wood. The Kootenay passed him, but, looking back, he saw the young man leading his two horses and went back. When he was close, he said, “I don’t like your stealing the horses. I told you you could take whichever horse you liked best. Now, which of us two is strongest, shall have the three horses. If you kill me, take my scalp and the three horses, and if I win I will do the same to you.” They undressed and stood close to each other. The Kootenay looked into the Piegan’s eyes; the Piegan looked scared. The Kootenay killed him, scalped him, left the corpse, and rode back with his three horses.

The people were camping together. One chief said to a scout, “Go to the top of the hill. If you spy any people, indicate the direction they come from by flashing a mirror.” The young man went and discovered some enemies stealing the people’s horses. He signaled to his people, and they went in pursuit of the thieves. The enemy did not run, but prepared for a fight. They killed the chief. Then all his followers became furious. They rushed on the enemy with their knives, slaying all save a single man. They stripped off all his clothes, even his moccasins, and bade him return where he came from. He had a hard time of it; his feet were worn out. The people recaptured their horses. One Stoney was killed by a shot in the shoulder, which passed out at the other side. The people moved camp.

The Flathead had heard that the Stoneys were the best fighters. Five Flatheads went on a horse-raid. Three Stoneys pursued them. Thev went around the Flathead, who did not know the country. One of the Stoneys had a nude which began to bray. The Stoneys headed off the enemy and shot at the Flathead, but missed, only killing one of their horses. The Flathead riding it jumped on another horse. Now the enemy only had four Stoney horses. The Stoney captured the five saddled horses of the Flathead. The enemy retreated to the brush. One Stoney in the camp heard the report of the guns. He went to look at the fight. The fighting Stoneys shouted, “Don’t stand there, that’s where they are aiming at!” But he went close and was shot in the mentula. The Stoneys were angry, rushed on the Flathead, and knifed one of them. The wounded Stoney

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lived four days more, then he died. The Flathead never attacked the Stonevs again. ____ _ i _

Twenty-two Cree were traveling together; one of them was an orphan. They heard the sound of a woman crying in a coulee. “Let me alone! Let me alone!” When they got close, they could not see anyone. Again they heard the same cry. The orphan knew what was the matter, but, would not tell his companions. At last, they found that it was Porcupine s ^ife, whom her husband was beating in a coulee. Porcupine explained that she had been unfaithful to him. He also said, “You had better go home, or all of you will be killed.” The chief said, “Xo, we are looking for a fight.” \fter two da vs’ journev thev met some hostile Indians who killed them all, except the orphan and one other man who was wounded in the leg. The orphan went home. After ten days the other man began to crawl along on his hands until they got sore. He found a lodge-pole, cut it in two, and walked on the fragments as stilts. He got so hungry that he ate his buffalo robe. He reached a wood and built a fire there. A woman came up in search of firewood. She had tied up her pony at the entrance to the forest. The man noticed the pony, leapt on it, and rode away. When near his own camp, he hid in a gully. He heard his parents lamenting his loss. Sud¬ denly he stepped forth. “I am not dead, I am here.” His parents kissed him and were very glad.

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ABSTRACTS OF MYTHS.

Trickster Cycle.

The earth is flooded. Sitcon/ski makes the Muskrat dive for mud, and fashions the earth out of it. He makes the Muskrat and Beaver change tails.

The Muskrat brings up mud, from which Pkton'mi shapes the earth. Inkton,mi debates with Frog on the length of the winter season, and finally agrees to have seven winter months. He creates men and horses.

The earth is covered with snow, for the summer is kept in a bag tied to a medi¬ cine-man’s lodge-pole. Pkto^m1 is hired by supernatural beings to secure the summer for the people. He stations animal helpers one behind another. The Fox steals the summer and passes it on to his associates, who escape while Inkton'mi engages the owner in conversation. Pkto^m1 joins his comrades, and makes sum¬ mer by opening the bag. A council is called to decide the length of the winter. Frog proposes six months, and is knocked dowm by Pkton'mi, but then PktoH'mi pities him and fixes the period at six months. There is a debate whether men are to return to life after death. Inkton,mi decides that they are to die forever. Pkton'm‘ makes all animals plunge into a hole with fat.

Pktu'mni plays with rocks and leaves the impress of his body on them.

Siteon'ski discovers women who have never seen men. He informs his fellow- men, who follow him to the women’s camp. The women choose husbands. The chieftainess chooses Sitcon'ski, who refuses to marry her. She forbids her subjects to marry him, and he remains single.

Pkto^m1 goes paddling with a young man, lands, and discovers women’s camp. He explains sexual matters to the two chieftainesses and other women. When he has gratified his desires, he wishes to retire, but the women as yet uninitiated hold him back. At last he makes his escape.

Pktu'mni wishes to fly with the geese. The birds take him up, but drop him in a mud-hole, -where he is left sticking for several days.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Aatural History. [A ol. P ,

Sitcon'ski wishes to travel with the Eagle. 1 Eagle abandons him on a mountain top. Sit eo11 'ski tumbles down head foremost, and sticks in a swamp. When he frees himself, he turns into a moose to entice the Eagle down. When the Eagle eats of the meat. Sit co11 'ski kills him.

Sitcon'ski wishes to travel with the geese, is warned of dangers, but insists on joining them. The Indians shoot at the geese, who drop Sitcon'ski into a mud-hole.

Pktu'mni refuses to present a rock with a gift, and is captured by it. He calls on birds to help him, promising them his daughter. The birds cause a wind that shatters the rock. IEktu'mni announces that he has no daughter.

Inkton'mi suffocates a bear in a sweat-lodge. He wishes to distribute the meat among the animals, but is suddenly seized by a rock and held fast. Frog informs other animals. They devour all the meat. Finally Pdcto^'m1 is released by birds who break up the rock.

Fisher has escaped with some of Siteon'ski’s meat. SiteoQ'ski sees Fisher in the water, dives after him. but misses him. He discovers that it is only Fisher's reflec¬ tion, and finds Fisher on a tree. Fisher offers to give him some meat if he shuts his eves and opens his mouth, then drops a knife and kills him.

Inktu'mni plunges into the water to get berries, but the real berries are above him and he has been deceived by their reflection.

Sitcon'>ki meets a chicken and abuses it. The chicken flaps its wings, frighten¬ ing him so that he falls into the water. He gets out and by a ruse gets two fish to fight and kill each other. Mink steals the meat. Siteon'ski angrily calls on Thunder, who causes a flood. All unwinged animals perish. Thunder stops the rain, and Sitcon'ski revives the animals.

Sitcon'ski arouses geese's curiosity by packing two sacks. He invites them to dance with closed eyes, and wrings their necks. He cooks the dead geese. Fox approaches, pretending to limp. Sitcon'ski proposes a race for the food. Fox wins, and eats up all the food.

Pkton'm1 pretends to mourn his brother’s death and induces the ducks to accompany him on a war-party. First he bids them dance around Turtle with shut

1909.]

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eyes. While they are dancing, he kills most of them. The rest escape. Turtle tries to flee, but is slain, after warning Inkton'nd not to drink water for four days. Coyote approaches, pretending to limp. Inkton/m‘ offers to give him food, pro¬ vided he gets a bucket for him. Coyote gets several buckets, but Inkton'm‘ is not satisfied with them and sends him off again. Finally, he obtains the desired vessel, and Inkton/m1 sits down on a rock, which holds him fast. Coyote notifies other animals, and they eat up all the food. Inkton'm‘ begs birds to free him, promising to paint their wings. They shatter the rock, and he fulfils his promise. Inkton,m‘ recollects Turtle’s warning, and is afraid to drink. When he stoops down at last, a large turtle seizes his lip and hangs on, until Inkton'm1 burns it with his pipe. Inkton'ml lays it on its back and makes it promise never to bite people.

Fox pretends to be lame. Pktu'mni challenges him to a race, offering to tie a stone to his foot. Fox outruns him, and devours all his food. Inktu'mni vainly tries to kill him.

Inktu'mni asks his rump to guard his eggs and wake him if anyone should ap¬ proach. The rump fails to do so, and the eggs are eaten up by a stranger. Inktu'mni angrily burns his rump and walks off. He returns to the same place, mistakes his flesh for meat, and eats it.

Sitcon'ski passes a sleeping marten and lynx.

Sitcon,ski hears people dancing, and finds mice dancing in a buffalo skull. He puts his head in and cannot get it out for some time.

Sitcon,ski puts his head into dancing mice’s buffalo skull. He falls asleep. The mice chew up his hair, and when he wakes up he cannot pull his head out. Fin¬ ally he breaks the skull against rocks.

Sitcon'ski learns an eye-juggling trick of some birds. When he throws both his eyes on a tree, however, they remain there, and he is obliged to make new eyes of pitch.

Inkton,mi learns the eye-juggling trick of four boys, who warn him not to practise it too frequently. They also show him the trick of whittling off his feet and catching game, but warn him not to perform it when alone. He tries the eye-juggling trick once too often, and loses his eyes; the boys restore them to him, but take away his power. He also disobeys the second warning, and gets stuck in a tree. The boys rescue him, but take away his remaining powers.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History.

[Vol. IV,

Sitcon'ski bids a bird transport his mentula tb a sleeping beaver on the opposite side of a creek. The bird puts it in the wrong place. Then the beaver wakes up and dives into the water.

A mink has intercourse with a beaver. Sitcon,ski sees them and requests the mink to act as his go-between (like the bird in 24).

Sitcon'ski abducts young beavers. Fear of the old beaver deters him from drinking, and he perishes of thirst. Magpie restores him to life.

Sitcon'ski stays with Beaver for a time. He abducts and eats the young beaver. Beaver bites him when he tries to drink. He howls with pain.

Sitcon'ski abuses a rock, and is pursued by it. It catches him and rolls OATer him. He begs Thunder for aid, and the rock is burst asunder.

Sitcon'ski marries a girl, but infringes nuptial taboo, and his wife disappears. He meets and follows a buffalo-cow to her camp, and is caught in a pen with the buffalo.

Sitcon'ski suspects wolverenes of wishing to steal his coat. They actually take it. He gives chase, but fails to overtake them. In the spring he tracks them to their camp, and holds one of the thieves over the fire, burning his hair.

Sitcon'ski is pursued by a bear, kicks up a buffalo skull, puts on the horns, and then pursues the frightened bear.

Sitcon'ski is plagued by mosquitoes.

Sitcon'ski repeatedly kicks and pulverizes a buffalo skull in his path, but it invariably resumes its former shape. Finally it turns into a buffalo that pursues him. Sitcon'ski conciliates it with tobacco.

Inktu'mni proposes to Rabbit that whichever of them falls asleep first may abuse the other. Inktu'mni falls asleep first, and is abused. When easing himself, he drops little rabbits, but when he tries to catch a rabbit he soils his blanket.

1909.]

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243

Four Cree set out to visit Sitcon'ski. They hear his drum near-by, but fail to reach him for several days. When they arrive at their destination, one of them asks for eternal life, another for Sitcon'ski’s daughter, the remaining two for medi¬ cines. The first man is transformed into stone. The second Cree weds the girl, but breaks nuptial taboo, and his wife disappears. The other visitors receive medicines. They believe they have stayed only four days, but in reality they have been away for as many years.

(Begins like 35). Sitcon'ski kills his sisters’ children. The women pursue him. He builds a tunnel and suffocates them in it.

Sitcon,ski feigns death, after giving his wife instructions. He is buried, but returns to marry his daughters. He is detected and obliged to flee.

Sitcon'ski travels in female garments, and is married by a young man. He pretends to give birth to a child, but actually packs a fox. When his trickery is exposed, he flees.

Sitcon,ski leaves his old wdfe to go traveling. He puts on women’s clothes and marries a young man. (The story continues as in 38). He ultimately returns home, and lies to his wife about his long absence.

Sitcon'ski finds berries and asks them for their second name. They are called Scratch-Rump. He eats of the berries, and is obliged to scratch himself until the blood begins to flow. He angrily builds a fire, burns his buttocks, and walks away. Returning to the same spot, he puts his burnt flesh on the trees, forming gum.

Sitcon,ski finds roots, named Wind. After eating them, he breaks wind and is carried up into the air. He is carried higher and higher. Trees which he tries to cling to are carried up with him. He finally falls into a mud-hole. When he gets out, he finds many snakes. He uses them as whips, killing one after another.

(Similar to 41). Sitcon'ski packs an old woman to stop ascending, but both rise into the air. The woman is killed in falling down; Sitcon'ski sticks in the ground.

Sitcon'ski borrows some of Skunk’s power, but wastes it, splitting a tree-stump. He is killed trying to steal Skunk’s wife, but revives. A passer-by captures him and

244 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\ ol. IV,

makes him pile up firewood. Sitcon'ski begs Weasel to crawl into his captors body and eat his heart. Weasel obeys, killing Sitcon'sk!'s enemy. By way of compensa¬ tion, Sitcon,ski washes him in snow to make him white.

Inkton'm* teaches the Indians to hunt buffalo, to eat the various parts of the animal, and to make knives.

Pkton'm' warns ten women of the approach of Disease, and instructs them how to be saved. He profits by their obedience, playing the part of Disease.

Inkton'm‘ distributes ceremonials to various animals, bidding them appear to the Indians in their dreams and to pass on (he ceremonials to them.

Inkton 'm* helps a calf out of the mire. They travel together. The calf rolls over several times on the way and becomes a very large bull. Inkton'ml is also transformed into a well-sized buffalo. They steal two women from the buffalo camp, and have to fight two of the bulls. They defeat their enemies. The calf and Inkton'm' separate, the calf promising plenty of buffalo for the Indians.

4S.

Inkton/ml pretends to guard a man’s rattle, while the owner is sleeping, but tries to steal it. He is overtaken, and pleads as an excuse that he was only trying to preserve the rattle from winged thieves.

Sitcon,ski roasts and eats one of his boys. His second son escapes.

Sitcon,ski has been refused by a chief’s daughter. By magic, he transforms rags into fine clothes, and in this guise lures her from home. On the way he disappears, leaving his clothes, which turn into excrements.

Inktu'mni tries to visit another man’s wife, but gets stuck in the ground as he crawls towards her lodge.

Sitcon'ski fails to cross a swamp, until he begs a stick to act as a bridge. He is doctored by a bear. In return, the bear asks him to fill several pails with berries for him. Sitcon'ski gets tired and fills them partly with moss. Traveling on, he meets beavers pretending to be dead. He packs one, and cuts sticks to roast it on. In the meantime, the beaver swims out on the lake with Sitcon'ski’s pouch, but returns it when Sitcon'ski begins to cry.

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Miscellaneous Tales.

1. Teze'xnin.

(a) A poor boy, living with his grandmother, has food while people are starving. The people steal his supplies, but he kills more game. The chief offers him his daughter for a wife. He constructs a buffalo-pound, and by sweating becomes handsome.

( b ) A poor boy lives with his grandmother, whom he supplies with food by his magic. When people try to steal his meat, he breaks their arms. He marries the chief’s daughter, sweats, and becomes handsome.

(c) Teze'xnin makes a girl conceive by using the same spot for micturition. A boy is born and wets Teze'xnin, whereby the latter is recognized as the father. The girl does not like him at first, but he transforms himself into a handsome youth.

(d) The scrapings from a moose skin are transformed into a boy, who grows up with miraculous rapidity. He causes the chief’s daughter to conceive, and is recog¬ nized by a test as the child’s father. The chief abandons his daughter, the boy, and the boy’s foster-mother. The boy, by his magic, transforms rags into fine clothes, turns into a handsome youth, and chases moose in the guise of a moose.

(e) A poor boy wishes to join two girls at play, but is snubbed by them. He kills game during a famine, then one of the girls marries him. He saves people from starvation and decrees that none are to step over meat. The taboo is disobeyed, and the boy disappears.

2. The Poor Boy.

A poor boy, living with his grandmother, secures anything he desires by his magical power. He erects a buffalo pound and drives in the buffalo. After a while, the buffalo are located with great difficulty, and finally go to the mountains.

3. The Orphan Brother and Sister.

(а) An orphan boy, living with his sister, catches beaver by means of his medi¬ cine. When people try to steal his beaver, he breaks their arms-, but cures them afterwards. He prophesies his sister’s abduction. She is carried away by the enemy, but rescued by her brother. The boy goes traveling, and kills a bear.

(б) The Orphan traps the sun, which is released by a mouse.

(c) An orphan boy, by his magic, secures game, and erects a fine lodge for himself and his sister. The girl is kidnapped by Indians, but her brother pursues the enemy on a magic steed, kills them, and rescues his sister. His sister marries a young man, and the orphan boy weds his brother-in-law’s sister.

4. The Deserted Children.

A young man defecates beads. Some girls play with his excrements. He wrongfully accuses them of planning the destruction of the tribe, and they are ac¬ cordingly abandoned while at play. The children try to track the people. They meet a cannibal witch, and sleep in her lodge. I he witch kills nearly all the children, but one girl, who is warned by her little brother, offers to perform menial duties for

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her, and is spared. While out with her brother, the girl is counseled by a skull, and flees. When the witch calls her, the skull answers in her stead. At last the witch discovers the deception, and pursues her captives, flhe children pick and che'
lice from a swan’s head and are allowed to cross a stream over the swans’ necks. The witch gets to the swans and is bidden to do likewise. She obeys, but abuses them. The swans pretend to form a bridge, but raise their heads, and the cannibal is drowned. The children catch up to their folks, but only one kindly old woman is willing to house them. The bead-maker orders them to be tied to a tree, and they are again abandoned. The kind old woman’s dog, however, remains with them and liberates them. The boy, by his magic, secures game, transforms himself by sweat¬ ing, into a well-sized youth, and erects a fine lodge. He goes out in quest of adven¬ tures, ignoring his sister’s warnings. He kills a big bear and a giant. The people who deserted the children are starving. The deserted children feed the kind old woman, but abuse their parents.

5. The Two Brothers.

Two brothers are traveling together by a lake. An old man paddling near-by catches the younger boy’s toy and decoys the older brother to his canoe, then paddles off. The kidnapped youth is snubbed by his abductor’s older daughter, but her younger sister marries him. The youth kills his father-in-law’s manitou helpers, and finally the old man himself. He sets out to find his brother, who lives with the wolves, being half a wolf himself. The hero transforms himself into a moose and catches his wolf-brother as he is eating his rump. The brothers live together. Once, when out hunting, the younger boy disappears. A bald-headed eagle informs the hero that the dog-fish are playing with his wolf-brother’s skin. He hides on a sand-bank, kills many of them, and wounds others. A toad comes to doctor the wounded, but is intercepted, drawn out as to his errand, killed, and flayed. The youth puts on the toad’s skin, plays the part of the physician, and kills the patients.

6. The Underground Journey.

(a) A woman abducted by a bear, gives birth to a boy. During her captor’s absence, she flees with the child and escapes to her camp. The boy, Iema', quarrels with other boys and kills several of them. He sets out to travel, and makes friends with Wood-Twister and Timber-Hauler, who live with him. One of the three stays at home every day, while the others are out hunting. When Wood-Twister and Timber-Hauler stay home, they are killed by an ogre and have to be revived by Icma'. On the third day Icma' stays home, and kills the monster. The three friends begin traveling again. A chief offers his three daughters to anyone who will rescue them from a subterranean captor. Icma' descends in a box lowered by his friends, kills animal and cannibal guardians, and rescues the girls, who present him with tokens of their affection. He places them in the box, which is hoisted by Wood-Twister and Timber-Hauler, but when he himself is to be raised, they cut the rope, dropping the box. Icma' ascends on an eagle’s back and arrives just as his false friends are about to marry the girls. Icma' proves his identity by means of his tokens, and marries the chief’s daughters.

( b ) Fragmentary version of (a).

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7. POTIPHAR.

(а) A young man, wrongfully accused by his father’s second wife, is abandoned by his father on an island. He puts on a gull’s skin and flies across the lake. When on dry land, he passes two alternately closing and opening cracks by throwing in fish. He returns to camp and finds his real mother, who has been abused by her husband. He orders her to throw her rival’s baby into the fire. She obeys, and is pursued by her husband. She runs towards her son. Father and son have a trial of strength. The young man pulls down the sunbeams, and kills his father with the heat.

(б) Teze'xnin is wrongly accused by his older brother’s wife, who has tried in vain to seduce him. Her husband asks Teze'xnin to climb a tree by a river, which he chops down. Teze'xnin falls into the water, but gets out and becomes very strong.

(c) Red-Boat, the older brother, abandons the hero on an island. The young man finds an enemy there and scalps him. He conciliates a water-monster by presenting it with the scalp. By its aid, he overcomes a huge mosquito sent by Red-Boat. The water-being’s wife gives him advice, and permits him to eat one of her children, provided he does not break the bones. He returns to camp. Red- Boat’s brother-in-law has married the hero’s sister, but is abusing her continually. The boy slays him with a bone -weapon, then he kills Red-Boat with heat and pun¬ ishes his sister-in-law.

8. The Son-in-Law’s Tests.

(a) Sitcon'ski has killed three sons-in-law. A fourth young man marries his daughter and is warned by her. Sitcon'ski invites him to go traveling. In the night, the old man gets up to burn his son-in-law’s moccasins, but his son-in-law has divined his intentions and exchanged the two pairs, so that Sitcon'ski burns up his own. It is very cold, so Sitcon'ski sends the young man home with a message to his wife, bidding her make new moccasins. The hero returns by a roundabout route. Sitcon'ski is found frozen stiff when his wife returns, but a fire restores him. Sitcom- ski invites his son-in-law to hunt eggs on an island, where he abandons him. The young man flies away as a gull and reaches home before Sitcon'ski.

(b) An old man sends his sons-in-law for willows and then kills them through his manitous. The fourth son-in-law is not attacked when going for the sticks. The father-in-law sends him against a big elk. The young man shoots the animal from a tunnel dug by a mouse helper and brings home the antlers. The father-in-law invites the youth to get feathers from an island, where he abandons him. The youth flies away as a bird and reaches home before his enemy. The old man sets out traveling with his son-in-law. In the night he tries to burn up the hero’s mocca¬ sins, but the youth has exchanged the pairs. The hero is sent home to order new ones, but in the meantime the old man perishes from the cold. The young man’s mother-in-law desires to marry him and in a swinging-game throws her daughter into the water, offering her to a big fish. She plays the daughter’s part, but the hero grows suspicious and learns that his wife is in the water. He turns into a stick by the water-edge and captures her as she rises to nurse her baby. He cuts off the fish¬ like section of her body and returns home. The old woman flees

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

9. The Evil Parents-in-Law.

Grandmother warns boy in quest of a wife against evil people. He sets out for their country. His father-in-law sets him tasks. He must cut down all the trees on a hill, eat an entire cow, and engage in a shooting match with the old man. He performs the first two tasks by his grandmother’s aid and his own cunning, and in the third kills his opponent. His mother-in-law permits him to dance with his wife, but not to sleep with her. The lovers deceive her and fly away as birds. The old woman pursues them, but the fugitives assume the shape of various animals and escape.

10. Adventures of Two Boys.

A chief offers his daughters to anyone that will bring him a handsome dog. One of two boys at last satisfies him, and weds one of the girls. The other boy also sets out in search of a dog, but reaches an ogre’s house, where he is held captive. The ogre’s mule helps him to run off. The ogre re-captures him and builds a fire. The boy bathes in his mule’s perspiration, leaps into the fire and comes out unscathed, while the ogre perishes in the contest. The boy finds a beautiful dog, returns, and marries the second girl. The chief asks the boy to bring cattle from the sea. The boy succeeds and becomes chief himself.

11. The Lecherous Sister.

(a) A sister embraces her brother in the dark. He paints his hands, rubs them on her robe, and identifies her as his visitor. The boy is ashamed and paddles away. The enraged young woman kills all the people. Her brother returns, kills her, cuts up her body, and sprinkles strips of flesh in every fireplace. The people are revived.

(b) Two girls wish to seduce their brother. He paddles away. They call on a big fish to devour him, but the monster spares him. The girls play with the children in the camp. They turn into bears, kill all the children except an orphan boy and girl who remain hidden, and also the grown-up people, except their own parents, whom they wound and blind. The boy returns, kills the evil sisters, cures his parents and revives the dead.

12. The Witch.

A witch kills a sleeping boy with her medicine. The boy’s brother sets out after him, pretends to sleep when he meets the witch, but seizes her as she tries to poison him, kills her with one of her charms, and with the other restores his dead brother to life.

13. The Faeces as Suitor.

A young woman’s offended faeces assume human guise and are entertained by her father. The visitor courts the girl, and she follows him, but the heat reduces him to his true shape, and the girl returns ciying.

14. The Giants.

The fourth of seven brothers looks for three of the boys, who have not returned. He is caught by a magnetic spear and captured by a foolish giant. Following his

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prisoner’s suggestion, the giant leaves him on a tree. When he"has~gone, the boy- substitutes a log for his own body. The giant returns and eats^the log. The boy stabs him with his own spear, which sticks in his head. The giant returns, and no one can doctor him. I^to^m' pretends to cure him, but causes his death. The boy convinces a giantess that he is her brother, and is treated accordingly. Finally, she bids him depart. Inkton'ml warns him not to turn back before reaching the other side of the hill. The boy disobeys and is drawn back into the camp. lie is warned again, obeys this time, and finds his lost brothers.

15. The Old Husband and the Young Lover.

(a) A boy elopes with an old man’s wife. The husband pursues them, but they escape, turning into grass and trees during their flight. After a while they return. The old man subjects his rival to an eating test. The young man pulls down the sunbeams and destroys his enemy with the heat.

(b) The elopers save themselves by successive metamorphoses, but are finally caught, stripped naked, and left to freeze. The young lover produces clothes by magic. (This incident is repeated four times). After four years, the husband challenges his rival to a contest. The young man swallows a spear without trouble, but it sticks in the old man’s throat. The young lover saves him, but after a while shoots and kills him.

16. Lodge-Boy and Thrown-Away’s Father.

A pregnant woman, ignoring her husband’s warning, answers a calling stranger. The visitor without killing her, opens her body, throws out her twin boys, and escapes with her underground. The husband returns and gives chase. Ascending above ground again, he discovers his enemy. The people cook him, but an old woman saves his bones and hair and restores him to life. He pulls down the sun¬ beams, destroys his enemies, and recovers his wife.

17. The Thunder-Bird.

(а) The Thunder-bird pulls a water-animal out of the water and lifts it to the clouds.

(б) A man is hidden by a young thunder-bird, but thrown out together with his protector by the bird’s father. The mother-bird brings her child in again.

18. The Women who married Stars.

One of two girls looking out of the smoke-hole of the lodge, wishes to marry a star. The next night, two stars come down and take them both to the sky. The women are warned not to dig near certain trees. One of them disobeys, sees her former home through the sky-hole, and gets homesick. Spider lowers them by a rope, bidding them shut their eyes. One girl disobeys, and they are only lowered to a tree top. The girls hail a wolverene, who rescues them and takes them home. Warned by his other wives, they flee. Wolverene, disguised as a baby, is taken up by the disobedient young woman, and assaults her, but is overcome and killed. The girls walk homewards and hail a boatman to take them across. Diver, the ferryman,

250

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takes them to his home instead. Diver attends a dance, which he forbids his wives to look at. One of them disobeys, finds him to be ugly, and induces her companion to flee They put bees and ants under their blankets and depart. Diver is bitten by the insects; he pursues and kills his wives. He pretends to mourn for them. People discover his deed and try to kill him. He plunges into the water. Tosna' laps up the water, but a bird makes him disgorge it again, and Diver escapes.

19. Ball-Girl.

A boy instructs his sister how to act in following a suitor, whose advent he pre¬ dicts. She does not follow his advice and is unable to recognize her suitor from among his brothers. The young men’s father, by his magic, strips her naked to freeze on the prairie. She is saved by her brother, who renews his instructions. She obeys them, magically causes the young men’s disappearance, and kills the old man. Then she and her brother flee. The old man pursues her. With the aid of a magic ball, she kills a buffalo and offers the slices of meat to her enemy, killing him when he fails to swallow the last piece. His sons rise to avenge him, but the girl throws up her ball and disappears in the sky.

20. Morning-Star.

A lover disengages the child from his pregnant mistress’s body, and elopes with her. The husband pursues them. They turn into snakes in the hollow of a tree. The pursuer fails to recognize them, and climbs up higher and higher, reaching the sky, where he becomes the Morning-Star.

21. The Seven Stars.

Seven youths discuss what shape to assume. Various proposals are rejected on the ground that the objects mentioned are not imperishable. Finally, they decide to become stars and ascend to the sky.

22. The Dipper.

A man kills his wife’s snake-paramour and cuts off her head. The head rolls in pursuit of their seven children. It stays with them and dresses a hide, forbidding the children to look at it. One boy disobeys. The head pursues them. The girl throws an awl behind them. The head is held up by a great many awls thus pro¬ duced, but after a while gets away from them. Next the fugitives throw a flint behind them. A fire arises, and the head is burnt, but emerges at last to continue the chase. The children throw a rock in the enemy’s path, and the rock turns into a mountain. The head is stopped for a time, but finally gets across. The children reach the water-edge. Cranes form a bridge to help them across, but throw the head into the water. After a while the head gets out. Then the girl makes a ball and begins to play with her brothers. All rise to the sky and form the Dipper.

23. The Bear-Woman.

(a) People kill a woman’s bear-lover. She asks for a piece of the bear’s skin, transforms herself into a bear, and kills all the people except her own family. Her

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brothers return from the chase and are told by their little sister where the bear- woman is vulnerable. They slay her, pulverize her heart, sprinkle the powder on the fireplaces of the camp, and thus revive all the dead.

(b) A girl playing with other children turns into a bear, and kills all the people save her little sister, who becomes her slave. The bear-woman’s brothers return. The little girl discovers her sister’s vulnerable point and informs the young men, who kill the bear, pulverize the bones, sprinkle the powder on all the fireplaces, and shoot arrows into the air, thus reviving all.

24. Burr-Woman.

A girl whose advances have been spurned by a handsome young man complains to her grandmother, who promises to avenge the rebuff. When the camp is broken, she asks the youth to carry her on his back. He consents, but afterwards cannot dislodge her from his back. At last, two girls pull her off and marry the young man.

25. The Snake-Man.

(а) Two men traveling together find a large snake in their path. They burn a path through it. One of them eats of the burnt flesh and gradually turns into a snake, which plunges into the water.

(б) The snake-man’s younger brother is requested by Thunder to fight a monster devouring Thunder’s children. The boy kills the monster. Then Thunder allows him to see his brother, who has assumed the shape of a turtle.

(c) Caribou slays an iron ogre killing Thunder’s brood. Caribou travels with a companion. They burn a path through a snake’s body. Caribou tastes the meat and is gradually transformed into a snake. Thunder tries to kill the snake, but it thwarts his designs, assuming different shapes, until a friend makes little frogs which kill it while in turtle-form.

26. The Awl-Elbow Witches.

Two witches kill visitors with their awl-elbows. The hero makes them stab and kill each other.

27. The Comrades’ Pranks.

(a) One of two travelers sharpens his legs and attacks his comrade for sport. The second traveler retaliates by turning into a bull and pursuing Sharpened-Leg. Sharpened-Leg transforms himself into an elk and attacks his comrade again. The buffalo-man reciprocates by becoming a grizzly. Sharpened-Leg begs to be let alone, and they travel on in peace.

(b) Of two comrades, one turns into a bear to frighten his friend. The other changes into a buffalo and returns the favor. The first man sharpens his leg to kick his companion, but the other traveler watches him and flees, bidding a tree answer in his stead. Sharpened-Leg finally discovers the deception and pursues his friend, who climbs a tree. Sharpened-Leg tries to kick the tree down, but his leg gets stuck and has to be released by his companion. They meet a tribe and are engaged in a contest of bravery, in which Sharpened-Leg is defeated by his comrade.

252 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [5 ol. 1\ ,

28. Sharpened-Leg.

4 young man sharpens his legs and attaqks his comrade who seeks refuge on a tree' Sharpened-Leg knocks down the tree and kills his friend. He kicks other trees, but his leg gets caught in a tree.

29. The Magic Springs.

During a famine, a young hunter steps into an imfrozen spring. His moccasins are stained with blood, and his wife thinks he has killed some game, n Inch he denies. His father-in-law proposes to go with him to the spring. Tnere he pushes in a stick and calls the moose. Moose come out and are shot. From other springs other animals are summoned, and the famine is at an end.

30. The Buffaloes’ Ward.

\ do* runs away with a boy strapped to its travois. The child is raised by buffaloes, who finally tell him how he was found by them. After receiving instruc¬ tions he is sent back to live with his grandparents. The boy collects presents, invites the buffalo to camp, and divides the gifts among them. They come again the next day and are treated in the same way. When they go away, the boy also

disappears.

31. The Buffalo-Boy.

A boy catches eagles. One eagle punishes him by setting him on a mountain top. but finally takes him down and gives him feathers with instructions as to their use. The boy meets buffalo, who do not hurt him when he presents them with the feathers. He is transformed into a buffalo. .After some time, he returns home. For four days he eats grass like a buffalo.

32. The Grizzly and his Ward.

A boy strays from his people. A grizzly meets him and takes him to his cave. In the spring, the Indians get to the cave, shoot the bear, and find the boy.

33. The Grateful Bear.

A woman is maltreated by her husband. She flees and spends a night in an empty bear-cave. The bear returns, and has a stick removed from a wound. In return, he directs her to her family’s camp.

34. The Young Bear.

A bear captures a woman. She escapes, and her people kill the pursuer. The woman’s cub kills several boys at play, but is worsted by another Indian boy.

35. The Bear-Wife.

(a) A chief’s son, traveling with a companion, embraces a sleeping bear. The bear comes to his camp at night and lies beside him. In the morning, the young

1909.]

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253

man collects presents and gives them to the bear, who departs. The bear’s son is found by the people. She comes once more and tells her husband that the boy may stay with him and that she will give him power. The boy becomes a big chief.

(6) A young man embraces a sleeping bear. She takes him to her cave and then accompanies him home. She gives birth to a human boy, who becomes a great warrior.

36. Snake and Bear- Woman.

After a conflagration, a snake finds a bear-woman. They marry. Bear, by her magic, creates a fine lodge, and takes him to her father. There they stay for a year. The old bear instructs Snake not to eat his flesh, but allows him to kill bears and take their skins.

37. The Beaver-Man.

(«) A young man warns his father not to walk close to a lake. The old man forgets and is tempted by a beaver, who takes him down below the surface of the water. His son helps him out, but, on being challenged by a rival, the young man enters the beaver-woman’s house never to return.

( b ) A young man finds beaver-women at work. They take him to their house, and he marries them. The people come and kill all the beavers, except their tribes¬ man.

38. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife.

(a) A man plucks young eagles and kills the old eagle. The eagle-chief pun¬ ishes him by leaving him for ten days on a mountain. Relenting, he then gives him feathers with instructions. The hero meets wild buffalo, whom he conciliates by giving them the feathers. A cow takes him home for her husband. The hero apportions to each species of animals its peculiar kind of food. He marries a moose- woman. His brother, Magpie, asks the two wives to race. The moose makes a mud-hole, in which the buffalo-cow gets stuck, losing the race. When she gets out, she returns with her calf to her father’s camp. The hero follows, but is trampled to death by the buffalo, Magpie looks for his hair and revives him. The buffalo pursue them. Magpie makes an iron house for them. The buffalo hook it, but only kill themselves.

( b ) Magpie marries a buffalo and a moose-woman. The wives are jealous of each other and run a race for the sole possession of their husband. Moose causes her rival to stick in the mud, so that she loses the race. The buffalo is offended and leaves with her calf. Magpie follows, and is told by the calf, which lingers behind, where to find water to drink. They arrive at the buffalo camp. The buffalo dance, and hook Magpie to death. Magpie is restored to life by his brother. The buffalo come to attack them, but Magpie turns their lodge into an iron house, where they are safe.

(c) Jack-Rabbit, a great warrior, kills a hitherto invulnerable chieftainess.

' He impregnates a girl, who gives birth to a child. He kills the woman several times,

but each time she revives. Then he lives with her. She gets angry and leaves for the buffalo camp. There Jack-Rabbit is obliged to pick out his son from a num¬ ber of calves. His son helps him, but at one trial the hero chooses the wrong calf, and is killed. The calf resuscitates him by shooting arrows into the air. They

254 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [\ ol. IV,

then pursue the buffalo. Jack-Rabbit causes a great frost so as nearly to freeze the buffalo chief to death. Then he pulls down the sunbeams and makes him burn up from the heat.

39. The Wolf-Wife.

A man dreams of a she-wolf, whom he marries. When he marries another woman, the wolf kills her. The wolf gives birth to a boy, who becomes a great hunter.

40. The Antelope-Woman.

A man hunting antelope finds a beautiful woman, who turns into an antelope and lures him away. He himself is transformed into a male antelope.

41. The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk.

The Red Hawk and the Black Hawk have a trial of skill. The Black Hawk wins.

42. Frog.

Frog abducts a handsome boy, but the boy’s father recaptures his child and frightens Frog into the water.

43. The Crane and the Otter.

Crane asks Otter to take care of her child during the winter. Otter does so, but is killed by Cold, who maltreats the young bird. In the spring Crane returns, kills Cold, and rewards the Otter species.

44. Wis'kedidi'n.

A man sees elk on the opposite side of a river. A fat elk takes him across, and the man kills him. A wolf offers to inform the people, and covers the man and his food with the skin. The man tries to get out, bloodies his body and turns into the bird Wis'kedidi'n.

45. The Loon and the Bald-Headed Eagle.

Loon abuses Bald-Headed Eagle. Eagle flies towards him. Loon dives down, but is obliged to come up for air. Eagle pursues him, and at last kills him with lightning.

46. The Wolverene and the Wolves.

Wolves teach Wolverene the trick of making fire by jumping across wood. Wolverene practises it too frequently and loses his power. The wolves steal his flint. Wolverene freezes. At last, the wolves offer to cover him with their tails, but they break wind so as to make it disagreeable for him.

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47. Skunk.

Wolverene angers Skunk. Skunk tries to kill him, but Wolverene closes his vent so that he cannot void filth. The other animals come up, and Lynx kills skunk. His body is burnt, and from the spots on his corpse latter-day skunks develop.

48. The Blind Dupe.

A blind man’s wife shoots a buffalo, but pretends to have missed it. She aban¬ dons her husband. A bird finds him crying and bids him dive into a lake. The man recovers his sight, and kills his faithless spouse.

49. The False Comrade.

A young man sets out on a journey and marries a young woman. While out hunting he falls asleep, and a witch transforms him into a tree. The man’s comrade looks for him and is mistaken for his friend by the young man’s wife. The witch tries to enchant him also, but he has only feigned sleep and enchants her with her own charm. He disenchants his friends and other victims. When he tells his comrade of the adventure with his wife, the disenchanted youth becomes jealous, and kills him. On hearing from his wife that his friend was not at fault, he restores him to life, but his rescuer is offended at his comrade’s lack of faith, and departs.

50. The Wakan' Girl.

A wealthy youth refuses to marry. At length, he weds a poor girl. She turns out to have wakan' power, calls buffalo, and gives the power to her husband.

51. The Bad Wife.

A woman elopes wTith a stranger. Her husband goes to look for her, and is assisted by a wolf. An old woman gives him mink-skins to put on his feet when crossing water. Thus he is able to walk across rivers. They arrive at the elopers’ camp. The chief challenges the hero to a trial of strength. One of the chief’s helpers is dropped into a kettle of boiling water and comes out unscathed. The hero repeats the feat, staying even a longer time. He also wins the other contests, kills the chief and his helpers, and becomes chief himself. He visits the wolf in his camp, and rewards him for his services. His father-in-law kills the faithless wife.

52. The Woman stolen by the Buffalo.

A buffalo steals a man’s wife. The husband stealthily approaches the camp and bids his wife follow him. On pretense of getting her bag, she detains him, but in reality she sets the buffalo at him. He is stripped naked and maltreated, but is finally allowed to go back. The buffalo-woman kills many Indians. The hero offers to run a race with his wife, each staking the lives of ten Indians and buffalo, respectively. He defeats her by magic. They race again, wagering twenty lives each. He wins. She then challenges him to a trial of strength. He shoots her in her only vulnerable spot, and kills her. From a bone he restores his wife to a human form, slits off her nose, and kills her.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. I\

53. The Abducted Wife.

A woman is abducted by a beaver and partly assumes the shape of a beaver. She comes up from the water to nurse her baby. Her people find the beaver lodge and bring her back. She runs away, and turns into a bear, giving birth to cubs. Later, she returns, her shape is partly human, in part that of a beaver and of a bear. She finally commits suicide.

54. The Reformed Adulteress.

A woman disappears. A crow tells her husband where she has gone. The man re-captures her. While he is out hunting, the crow keeps guard over her, for which he is rewarded. The man treats his wife cruelly, until she promises to be faithful.

55. The Game-Thief.

During a famine, a young man steals a successful hunter s game, and pretends that he has shot it himself. The hunter undeceives the pretender’s father-in-law, who upbraids the young man.

56. The Meeting in a Cave.

A Blood stops in a cave overnight. A Kootenay goes to the same cave. The two become friends. After some time, the Kootenay proposes trials of strength. They stake their property, scalps and lives in successive contests. Finally, the Kootenay wins, and kills the Blood.

57. The Gambling Contests.

A boy, offended by his older brother, runs away. Several days in succession he meets a man named Crow. On the fourth day, Crow proposes a game. They roll the netted wheel, staking their clothes. The boy wins at first, but Crow retrieves his loss. Next they wager their scalps. Crow again wins, and scalps the boy. The boy, agreeing to come for another contest, departs to seek his relatives. Crow also summons his followers. The tribes meet. A poor boy offers to run a race in the hero’s place. Both sides stake all their property. The poor boy wins the race. The hero recovers his scalp and gains all of Crow’s property, but takes pity on his opponent and restores some of his horses and other possessions. The hero’s older brother now makes overtures of friendship, but is snubbed and killed. A young man announces the revelation of a ceremony by a prairie-dog. Crow sends a friendly message to the hero urging him not to gamble, but insisting on the necessity of scalping.

58. Lesbian Love.

A woman elopes with her sister-in-law. After a long time, her husband finds them together. The girl has given birth to a child without bones. The husband kills the infant and his wife.

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59. Equus Stuprator.

A stallion ravishes his mistress, thereby killing her. Her husband kills him.

60. Canis Stuprator.

A dog ravishes his mistress. She gives birth to seven pups. Her husband kills the dog.

61. Lignum Mentulae Vice Fungens.

Venator duas mulieres conspexit quae ligno pro mentula utebantur. When they see him, they break the piece of wood ita ut utriusque earum vulvae dimidium haereret. They find that they cannot urinate. The hunter offers to cure them, extracts the wood, and receives a liberal compensation.

62. The Two Hunters.

Two starving hunters sight a buffalo. Only one of them has a gun, but both want to shoot. A\ hen the man in front shoots, his comrade thrusts his finger into his anus, making him miss.

63. The Goose and her Lover.

A man has intercourse with a goose. She follows him to camp, and pursues him until he bribes her to let him alone.

64. Mentula Loquens.

A young man looking for buffalo asks his mentula whether it sees buffalo. It replies affirmatively, and continues to repeat this answer. The young man is ashamed. No one is able to cure him until someone suggests that his mother-in-law hold it. Then it stops talking.

65. The Punished Lover’s Revenge.

At night a young man ravishes one of an older man’s wives. He is caught. At her husband’s behest, mulier vulvam ad juvenis nares attrivit. Tunc mentulam ita Iigaverunt ut mingere non possit. They tie his hands and let him go. He suffers agony until released by his brother. He and his friends avenge the insult by catch¬ ing the woman and all gratifying their lust.

66. Big-Frog.

Big-Frog kills tribesmen. Buffalo makes him flee, and kills his wife.

67. The Badger.

A young man tries to pull a badger out of his hole, but the badger seizes and holds him fast for a long time.

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV

6S. A Hunting Adventure.

Two hunters are surprised by a bear, which ‘kills them.

69. The Horse-Thief.

A man lies in ambush and frightens passing horses so that they throw their riders. He then appropriates the horses.

70. The White Buffalo.

One old Stoney stays home, while the other men are out hunting. A white buffalo enters the camp and kills him.

71. The Four Trappers.

An unsuccessful trapper tries to spoil the traps of his comrades, but is caught by the trap and killed. One of his associates is attacked by flies and dies in conse¬ quence of their bites. The remaining trappers are pursued by a fish and killed by Skunk.

72. The Rivals.

A man hurls a bull-dog flies’ nest into a lodge where his rival is courting a girl. The flies inflict terrible bites on both the man and the girl. The rivals meet and kill each other.

73. The Bear and the Buffalo.

A big bear kills several buffaloes, but is killed by an old bull.

74. Snow.

A woman dreams of Snow killing her husband, and brings the corpse home.

75. The Offended Feet.

A man offends his feet, because he greases his hair, but not them. They refuse to help him, when he is pursued. He explains that the hair is used by scalpers. The feet then help him escape.

76. Two-Faces.

A woman gives birth to a two-faced child.

77. First Meeting with the C’ree.

All the Stoneys have starved, except an old couple and two boys. As the old people maltreat the boys, they run away and meet a party of Cree, who adopt them.

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259

78. First Meeting with Whites.

(a) Inktu'mni descends the Saskatchewan and reaches an island. There he meets Whites, with whom he trades.

{b) A Stoney hunter meets a White man with a gun. He is frightened, but is reassured. The White man teaches him to shoot, but the Indian is terrified by the report of the gun.

79. The Punitive Expedition.

(a) Four young men setting out to get feathers from a neighboring band are warned by a crane’s head not to touch a lame girl. One of them kidnaps the girl; her people kill him and two of his brothers, while his brother-in-law escapes and tells the news. The father of the slain boys gets up a war-expedition. His son-in-law’s father is in the hostile camp and is to be warned to hide in the dog-house. However, he is killed in the attack, because by mistake a bad old man has been warned instead. The bad man is found in the kennel and killed.

(b) (The story is similar to the foregoing version. The bad old man has a ferocious dog, which kills many of his enemies.)

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Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

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(c) The Ceremonial Organization of the Plains Indians of North America. (Congres International des Ameri- canistes, XVe Session, Tome II, pp. 53-63.)

(d) Cheyenne Tales. (Journal of American Folk-Lore, Vol. XIII, pp. 161-190.)

(e) Gros Ventre Myths and Tales. (Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol. I, pp. 55-139.)

Lasley, Mary. Sac and Fox Tales. (Journal of American Folk-Lore, Vol. XV,

pp. 170-178.)

Lewis and Clark. Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Edited

by Reuben Gold Thwaites, New York, 1907. 7 volumes.

262 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Lowie, Robert H. The Northern Shoshone. (Anthropological Papers of the

American Museum of .Natural History, Vol. II, pp. 165— 306.)

Maclean, John. Canadian Savage Folk. Toronto, 1896.

Margry, Pierre. Decouvertes et Etablissements des Frangais dans 1’Ouest et dans

le Sud de L’Amerique Septentrionale (1614-1754). Paris, 1876-1886.

Matthews, Washington. Ethnography and Philology of the Hidatsa Indians.

Washington, 1877.

Maximilian, Prinz zu Wied. Reise in das innere Nord-America in den Jahren

1832 bis 1834. Coblenz, 1839-1841. 2 volumes and

Atlas.

Mooney, James, (a) The Ghost Dance Religion. (Fourteenth Annual Report,

Bureau of American Ethnology, Part 2.)

(b) The Calendar History of the Kiowa. (Seventeenth Annual

Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, pp. 129- 468.)

(c) The Cheyenne Indians. (Memoirs of the American Anthro¬

pological Association, Vol. I, pp. 357-478.)

Petitot, Emile. Traditions Indiennes du Canada Nord-Ouest. Paris, 1886. Riggs, Stephen R. Dakota Grammar, Texts, and Ethnography. (Contributions

to North American Ethnology, Vol. IX.)

Russell, Frank. Explorations in the Far North. 1898.

Simms, S. C. Traditions of the Crow. (Field Columbian Museum, Pub. 85, Vol. II.) Schoolcraft, Henry R. The Myth of Hiawatha. Philadelphia, 1856.

Schurtz, Heinrich. Altersklassen and Mannerbiinde, eine Darstellung der Grund-

formen der Gesellschaft. Berlin, 1902.

Teit, James. The Shuswap. (Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol. II, pp. 443—

813.)

Thomas, Cyrus. Ethnology of Canada and Newfoundland. I: Historical Account.

(Annual Archaeological Report for 1905, Toronto, 1906, pp. 71-83.)

Wissler, Clark, (a) Decorative Art of the Sioux. (Bulletin of the American

Museum of Natural History, Vol. XVIII, pp. 231-278.)

(b) The Blackfoot. (Annual Archaeological Report for 1905,

Toronto, 1906, pp. 162-178.)

(c) Some Dakota Myths. (Journal of American Folk-Lore,

Vol. XX, pp. 121-131, 195-206.)

Wissler and Duvall. The Mythology of the Blackfoot Indians. (Anthropolog¬ ical Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol. I, pp. 1-162.)

Webster, Hutton. Primitive Secret Societies. New York, 1908.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

263

APPENDIX.

Stoney Texts.

Mnoga'

Bull

Kitci'figa (To) his wife, edjia'-hanc. he said.

win tea

man

wijin/,

one

‘Mnoga'

“Buffalo Mno'ga-je The buffalo

wintca'ze ista'oa'-hantc. Wodin-kta'-hantc. the man was blind. He was starving.

he'tca icka'hu hetcu'ta injas'ka, ”

on rope tie' ,”

Hetcin' kude'-hantc. Yazu'bons

Then he shot. Arrow with

datca'ngubi

trail

ii-'hantc.

came.

kte'-hantc.

Wi'ajin,

1 Ya-o'-cinc,” edjia'-hantc.

Hetci'n wl'ajin

he killed it.

The woman,

“You killed not,” said.

Then the

woman

kna'-hantc.

Wl'ajin

mnoga'-je

pada'-hantc.

Watcu'saga

o'da

went home.

The woman the buffalo

skinned.

Pemmican

much

ka'a-hantc.

Wintca'ze

tcea'-hantc.

Mini' one-'adianc. Hetci'n

no'za,

she made.

The man

cried.

Water he sought.

Then loon (?),

“Da'utca eka'niffga? Kitci'nifiga “Why do you cry? Your wife yonder fire nunga-'hantc, hetci'n ista' waste'-hantc. Hetci'n he dived, then his eyes were well. Then

Aze' maza'ksa'hantc.

Breasts (her) he cut off.

akwa'm inktun/ ya'-hantc. Tosa'kix makes. Four times wintca' cixna'-hantc. the man

was angry.

Ayusta'-hantc.

He let her go.

Dome'sesin

Snake

snohe'-cni'-hantc.

knew not. ya'mea'-hantc.

went hunting,

edjia'-hantc.

win/yaT1 woman Aha'ngia After a while Da wajin/ Moose one Wl'anjin,

kitci'-hu'-hantc. with cohabited, snohia'-hantc. he knew.

Docna' wintca'ze Long her husband Snohie'-tcaha11', wintca'ze When he knew,

'-hanc.

“dano'

“Meat

he said. WDtca'ze, The man, edjia-'hanc he said. Fhanc. she got to.

Win'ajiE

Woman

The woman,

Hii'nga,

“Wait,

Etci'n

he killed. Then

djan'ji'be awaxni'tces,’

firewood I fetch first,”

“hetcl'aka,

“Now,

Etci'n

Then Etci'n Then ni

returned.

n' ”

hi ya no,” cu'nga dog axna-'hanc. she took it home

i

T' banc. “I)janji'be

eya'hanc. “E'esin, dano'

said. “ Hasten, meat

om ya'-hanc. Dano'je

with she went. The meat

Etci'n wintca'ze mi'na Then the man knife yuma'-kta-c,” eya'-hanc.

“Firewood I will get,’

she said.

the man hiyo'ya,” fetch,” eya'-hanc. she said.

hiya'ya,”

bring,”

ekta'

where it was numa'-hanc. sharpened. “Hiyan/,” “No,”

264

Anthropological Papers American Museum oj Naiural History. [Vol. .

said

yakta'-hanc.

drank.

dome'sesin

snakes

Etci'n Then wintca'ze the man

eya'-hanc wintca'ze. “In'ton, ne ya'ktan,” edjia-'hanc. Etci'n wi'aji“ the man. “ Wait. this drink,” he said. Then woman

avusta'n-tcaha", hiyoka'-kanc. Etci'n

through when, she went to fetch (wood.) Then owa's wintca'-kte'-hanc. Wi'aji" cixna'kanc. all them had killed. Woman was angry.

Wi'aji11 agi'ktaga'-kanc. Dl-n kukte'tcaha11, dahu'

Woman ran home. Lodge into she came in when, (her) neck

kakto'za-kanc. ^apa'maksa ec

he cut off. Head-cutter was

“Ina' pa waxnu'ha-ktac"

“ Our mother's head I 11 keep. ’

Etci'n wintca'naje wajin' da

one moose waha'kta'-hanc. scraped the hair.

Djinja'-bi etcia'ka

Then boy

oga'cgabi' -tcahan, dressed the skin,

jia'bitc.

Etci'n

wintca'binaje.

his name.

Then

the boys,

eya'-hanc.

Etci'D

nuha'bi'-hanc.

he1 said.

Then

they kept it.

o'-hanc.

Etci'n

pa'je- wi'ajin

shot.

Then

head-woman

Etci'n,

Then.

wintca'-gia-hanc.

“ema'xki'da'bik," “Don’t look at me,” wajin', “Ina' awa'kida-ktatc,’ Sons ? one, “Mother I shall look,”

tcin'junje, “‘Ama'kida'bik heye'nic,’ edjia'-hanc.”

one son, “ Do not look at me,” she said,

akida'-hanc. Oxmi'ma'-hanc. ‘‘Hama'kida'bik"- he looked. (The head) fell down. “Don’t look at me.” epa'tc” eya'-hanc. Piye'c akida'-hanc hu'ngu.3 Etci'n wi'aji11 pa'je

I said” it said. But he looked at his mother. Then woman's head

cixna'-hanc. “Ci'-kte'-bi-ktatc. ” eya'-hanc. Etci'n nampa'-bi-hanc.

(was) angry. “I shall kill you,” it said. Then they ran.

Etci'n wata'pa'-hanc. Aha'ngia aska'n u'-kanc. Hetci'n tanku'djuu Then she pursued them. After a while close she came. Then their sister

she told them, eya'-hanc. Etci'n he said. Then Hetcia'ka piyec- Nevertheless

nuhe'-cni-ni ?

edjia'-hanc.

thev asked.

Etci'n hu'ngu

Etci'n

Then

ba'je

head

“Dain'c-ba

“Awl you have not?”

boa'-hanc.

they threw it back. Then their mother’s

Etci'n nundinda'-hanc. Docna' cin

Then she tried to get out. It was a long time before aha'ngia akwa'm iya'-hanc, ake' wa'ta-ba'-hanc. after a while over she got, again she pursued, wintca-ya'-kanc. Etci'n win'anaje da'baban k’aa'-hanc. Mime'a

to them she came. Then the girl ball made. They stood around,

etci'n ki-tcu'm-bi'-hanc. Etci'n unga'm ya-bi'-hanc. Etci'n

then they began to play. Then up they went. Then

cag5'win sebi'-hanc. Cena'ngac.

seven (the Dipper) they became. This is all.

yada'da'-kanc,

they chewed it up, woga'cnada'-hanc. got stuck.

u'-kantc. Etci'n

;he got out. Then

Etci'n ake' kia'n

Then again close

1 The solecism occurs in my field notes.

2 The initial aspiration should probably be lacking.

3 Hu'ngu ought, in all probability, to precede akida'hanc.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assinihoine.

265

Assinihoine Texts.

Manko'tce-ne aga'n

This earth on

Atgu'gu, hu'ngu,

Father, mother,

Iyo'di yegl'a yanga'-bi.

A hard time they were having.

kocka'-bi inyii'cna,

youths seven,

ko tuwe'

whether they had any “Je'tcen ta'guje

“Then what

wajin/ paha'-catc.

one red-haired.

sno'tgl'a-bic'-huncta'. they did not know. un'tcabi-kta-he' ?” shall we be?”

ea'bi-huncta. Je'tcen wanjin' “Manko'tce-je un'tcabisie'” ea'-huncta. they asked. Then one “The ground let us become,” he said.

Ksa'be edjia'-bi-je cea'-huncta, “Hiya', manko'tce-ne t’e'-naka'Ec, Wise-One (the one called) said, “No, the earth mortal 1 truly,

wajin'

o'ksahe-no ” hea'-huncta. Ake' it gets caved in (?)” he said. Again one “Hiya', t’e'-naka'Ec, iyu'ha innedja'-he-no. “ No, they are mortal truly, all break apart.” “Tea" ta'nga, ni'na “Trees big, very

t’e'-nakaEc, they are mortal truly,

Ake' wajin' jea'hucta,

‘ in'yanje un'tca bisie'. ’ “Rocks let us be.”

Ake'c waji Again one

ta'ngaje un'tcabisie'” ea'-huncta big let us be,” he said,

ganu'-za-handa gawa'ngino,” wind when (there is) they are blown over, un'tcabisie' ”

n' jea'-huncta, said,

;Mi'ni-je

ea' -hucta.

“Hiya',”

“No,”

ea'hunncta. he said. ‘Hiya',”

Again one said, “Water let us be,” he said. “No,”

ea'-hucta, “t’e'-naka'Ec, iyu'han oya'xeno.” Ake' wajin' jea'-huncta,

he said, “ it is mortal truly, all it dries up.” Again one said,

“Hanhe'bi-je un'tcabisie'” ea'-hucta. “Hiya',” ea'-hucta. “Hanhe'bine

“ Night t’e'-naka'Ec is fleeting truly, soon “An'baje un'tcabisie'” “Day let us be,” in

let us be,” he said.

'ianion.

e'sten ao'janjan-no,

it is light,” ea'-hucta. he said.

“No,” ea'-hucta. he said.

“Hiya',

he said. “Night

Ake' wajin' ea'-huncta,

Again one said,

t’e'-naka'Ec, hanwl'-ne

iusan'ye

“No it is fleeting truly, sun iya'ya-handa, adk'ba'zano.” Ksa'ba-je jea -hucta disappears suddenly (?) when again it is dark. The Wise One said, “Hiya', wa'ngam ne toya'yangene t’e'-ce-naka'Ec, etca'gen hi'-no; “No, above the blue sky not perishable truly, always living;

ekta' da'gu yexia'yange'-no wani'-no up there objects shining live.

“Oka'jen unya'ngabi-kte-no”

“In that space (?) we shall be,”

Je'tcen waji11',

je'tcabi-hu'cta. they are.

-Je untcabi-kte-no,” ea'hucta. Thus we shall be,” he said, ea-'hucta. Ho! je'tcen

he said. Well! thus

dju'sinaje', a-wintca'ya-ucta\

Thus

one

the smallest one, he takes them up.

1 Literally, “dead.”

266 Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

Xexa'gagan t5xmi's° ta'wanetc okna' wajin'-kcina a-wi'ntca-in'hinkna. Spider web bis on it one by one he carries them,

ivu'ha wintca'-yuso'd3. Hi'nkna akl' ya'mini e'-wintca-kna'nga-hinkna, all he finished taking up. Then ? three he laid on each side,

tcoga'n lye' iyo'danga-ucta\ Aha'g’nx lyedjeha11.

in the middle he himself sat down. The last one went up.

Xexa'gagan tokmi's teogan' i'djeha11 yuksa'ksa, kun hiyu'ya-hueta.

Spider web half-way up he broke it, down he threw it.

Xexa'gagana-ne k’u'-ucta'.

Spider (to) he gave it.

9

Kocka'-bi num u'mbisa-'huncta, ta-kona'gu'-gitci'-ya-bi-huncta.

Youths two stayed together, they were comrades.

Unman' wintca'-mandjai'a-huncta. Hebl'a waei'dju11 tl'tea en

One was visiting. On the way white man’s house at

tawin'jutun'-huncta. Jetan'han paru11' kude'ya-huncta. I'numba

he was married. From there ducks he hunted. A double-barreled gun wajin' yuha'-huncta. Ya'-wanga-hu^cta. Cu'nga-danga aga' henga.

one he had. He was going along. A horse on he was.

Cu'nga wajin' djus'inatc yu'hana ma'zatc yuha'-huncta. Je'tcen

Dog one small all iron

cunga'-ga-hi'anga. Ya'-huncta. Ga'yedja on horseback he went. He went. Then

unga '-bi-huncta were. teanwo'ha brush into jetcen, before (?),

Ga'yedja om

ga int'ku-hun'cta .

he made

Then them iya'ya-bi-huncta .

they ran. hanhe'bi-huncta. it was night.

E'tgakna' Xear-bv

lye tc he himself

he had. teanc-en brush by I'ntci'ya-huncta. chased.

Then num elk two Ga'yedja Then

Ic akna'-iya'ya-huncta. Ewin'tcakne'rinte He followed them. He caught up

To'kiko isnutgi'e-c hun'cta. Je'tcen pe'da Where he was, he knew not. Then otce'ti'tc wanya'ga-hun'cta. fireplace he saw.

yuksa ka1. hi'nkna en intce'ti-hun cta. Ao'janjan inknu'hana waga ngan

light Tcan Sticks &„'ng.

he broke, then fire he made. Light suddenly old woman

wajin' kinan'pa en u'-huncta. Tcosin'tcia najin'-hu'ncta. Gajea'-huncta, one appeared coming. Warming herself she stood. She said,

“Mi-ta'gunc, manda'sigin-kta,” ea'-huncta. “ Xlyec', mi-ta'gunc, IMj grandson, I am freezing, she said. “You, my grandson,

ictin m, edjia -huncta. Je'tcen ictin'ma-huncta. Ga'vetca waga'ngana-ne sleep, she said. Then he slept. And this old woman

jea'-huncta, “Ha'di mi'-ta'gunc,” ea'-huncta. “Je'nixu'x narin'-kta-tce” said, Rise, my grandson ” she said. “You will get burnt,”

1 Yuksa'ksa?

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

267

edjia'-huncta she said, yucka' she untied,

Nangun'

hin'kna

then

cu'nga-je,

Ga'yetca Then tea11

da'gey'ec-huncta. he kept silent.

Je'tcen

Then

peju'da

medicine

wajin

one

stick

wajin

one

uns o'ko'ya-hi'nkna with she rubbed and

baji'ba-huncta. touched him.

da'gu

Then iyu'hanax all

jea'huncta,

said,

ea'-huncta.

he said. han'-huncta.

the dog, tcan'je trees “Kona' “Comrade Je'tcen ve

da'waje things his tca'be-huncta. different, (became) . tokia' where a'-huncta

nanTc

was.

u'-huncta

came.

J etcen Then

ye djaetac he went Hebl'a On the way Ga'yetca Then

tco'danga

unman/-je

ga yetc

je ic also then

ta-ko'na-gu-je

partner

owa'gine'-kta,

wajin'

Then he went.

En ya/-huncta.

There he went.

Kocka'-je jea'-huncta, “Kona' tokia'-he?”

The boy said, “Comrade where?”

Winko'cka-je jea'-huncta, “Hiva' e'ac nlye'tc.” ea'-huncta.

The girl said, “No, that is yourself,” she said.

“Hiva' miye'e” ea'huncta. Kocka'-je “ Kona'k’e “Not I,” he said. The youth

ea'-huncta. Tuka' ake' winko'cki-je But again the girl

“ Un-kna'-k’ e'etcas, ”

“We will go home,”

Je'tcen kitci'

Then

he said. edjia'-huncta.

she said. edjia'-liuncta. she said.

Jetcen wota'-huncta.

Then he ate.

hi'nkna tanga'n

and out he went,

kona'-kte-bi-heno' etci' -huncta his comrade he thought,

hi'nkna manka'kta ekna'nga-huncta.

the other mic ekta'

I there will look,”

waci'djun tl white man’s house one wink5'cke wrajin' intko'm a girl one to meet him

ea'huncta. he said. Ga'yetca, Then,

tS'kia omi'ndjiaga,” where tell me,”

“Hiva', eac' niye',” “No, it is you,”

“ Woy'atin-kta,” “ You will eat,” kite!' ki'-huncta. with her he went.

and on the ground kona'ye ye'djactac my friend

cu'nga-je cunktl'je the dog stable

jetan'han san'pagl'a akta'ga-huncta away from there, ahead

“My partner jea'huncta, “ said,

edjia'-huncta. she said.

kna'-huncta. Ti-n with her he went home. Home Oa'ni'ndja-huncta. Tuka' to'ketken kna'ya

She would not let him go. But, somehow he fooled her '-huncta. .Jetcin-huncta. Nen

He thought about it. Place where (?) Je'tcen ma'za cu'nga-je ekna'gu

Then iron dog he took his

Jedjl'a-huncta, “Hunkta', dokl'o He said to it, “ Go on, yonder one',” edjia'-huncta. Je'tcen

gu

he set it down. I'yopta'

he said.

Then

where he went in that direction seek,”

iyu'han 5'kcankca one'-huncta. Tima'hetko,

all around looked. Inside,

Oye'ne o'mEna, ya'-huncta. he ran. He tracked, he scented, he went.

ii-huncta. Jetci'n-huncta.

He thought, kona'-kte-bi-heno, ”

lya'nga-

Ga'yetca tea11 ga'kna xexa ga num ,

Then trees along elk two were lying.

“Ha,” ea'huncta. “Ne duhe'no' ne wo'zabi-hino'

‘‘Ha ” he said. “This is the place these two possibly (?) my comrade killed,

268

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV,

etcP'lnPcta. “Inton', he thought. “Well,

Je'tcen unm iye' Then he

nupi'n wintca'-wa-kte'-kte-no, both I shall kill,”

intciva'-hiPcta. Cunka'gan

them chased. On a horse

gai'ne-lnPcta. made, en there

mictin'min-kte-no,” I shall sleep,”

Then Ga'yetca Then intce' i hiPeta. he built a fire.

etcin,-liuncta.

he thought.

Tcanden o'hiva-iva'ya; bije'tcen ankna/ iya'ya.

In the brush he ran; after he followed.

iya'ya-hiPcta. Je'tcen ic ake' peda' came suddenly. Then he again fire otce'ti-je wanya'ga-huncta. Je'tcen

fireplace saw. Then

jetci'n-hiPcta, “Ne du'ku he thought, “Right here

du'djeha11 ak’in'jena

after a while he unsaddled, he wrapped himself up.

Ga'yedja Pknu'hana da'gu tcawo'ha Then suddenly something in the brush

Inknu'hana en-hinan'pa-huncta. En hl'-huneta.

Suddenly it appeared. There it came. Then

je'tca-lnPcta. En tcosintc"ia' najin'-huncta.

it was. There she warmed herself standing.

etcin'-huncta he thought. hl'-yanga-hiPcta. he came.

Ga'yetca hanhe'bi

night ic ake' he again Ga'yedja Then Je'tcen Then

offi'Kmi ja-huncta. Teen en iva'nga-hiPcta.

Then there he lay.

un'nia-huncta. a noise (?) came along. Ga'yedja waga'ngana old woman Ga kocka'-je ? The youth etein'-huncta. he thought, miye' I

jetcin'-huncta, “Ha'! Ne'ne e'heno, kona' kte'-heno,” thought, “Ha! This one, I guess (?) my comrade killed,”

Je'tcen ea'hiPcta, “Min-kun'c je'tcen cosin'tcia' yanga'-wo; Then he said, “My grandmother, thus warm yourself;

micti'min-kte-no,” ea'-huncta. “Je'tcen shall sleep,” he said. “Thus

huncta. Je'tcen ko'cka-ne cina'ja said. Then this youth blanket akin'-wahga'-huncta. Inctl'me

watching he lay. To sleep

-8a'%

the old woman

na

maxno'ga-hiPcta.

Kocka'-ne ga'yetca waga'ngana-ne

etcun', mi-ta'goja,” edjia'- you can do, grandson,” she

Oknan'

hole cut. Through it Xo'banga-huncta. He snored.

ea'-hu"cta, “Ha'di, said, “ Rise,

small run'za-huncta. he pretended. inknu'-hana suddenly

The youth then

mi-ta'gunja-je, ape'da ni-kpai'yin-kta-tce,” edjl'anga-huncta. Tuka'c grandson, the fire-sparks will fall on you,” she said repeatedly. But koc inkninge'ce-huncta. Je, “Ainnl'tkun-kta-c mi-ta'goja,” edjia'-huncta he paid no attention. Again, “ It will burn you, grandson,”

1 uka'ec piye'e, xo'bahga-huncta. Gaje'jea'-lnPcta,

But he did not mind, he snored. She said,

minci'nagatcac, into' tcan ab'pewagThin-kta,”

I mean by what I say, (but) more trees I am going to have,”

Hinkna wa'paxta'netcac knucka'-hiPcta. Sanksan'djane ’ tcecka'ni-ta Then a medicine bag she untied her own. The dress (out from) her breast ekna'gu-hiPcta. Hi'nkna tcansa'ganetc peju'da-ne i'nkpanen ok’o' she took her own. Then on the stick the medicine

she said. Da'guncke “Nothing ea'-huncta. she said.

on a point

ya. she rubbed.

1909.]

Lowie, The Assiniboine.

2G9

Hi'nkna aba'ha aya'-huncta. Jl'as aki'n-wa'nga-huncta.

Then she reached over to him. Meanwhile

aba'ha

she reached,

au'jetc inknu'hana

? suddenly

najin' he stood up

E'tunax

he lay watching. Close

iya'ya-hinkna, nankpa'nen

? , by the wrist

iyax'paya-hun'cta.

he seized her. edjia'-huncta. he asked. wanl'is ”

“Han, minkun'c, “Yes, grandmother, “Hin, mi-ta'gunc,”

“ ? grandson,”

ea'-huncta. “Ga I w'ant to be saved,” she said. “There (?) da'gu da'wa jena'ngatce, heha11' ga'ic things his all, ?

.Je'tcen na'nkpa'ne yus un'-huncta

Then wrist holding he was.

an'ba-jetc jeha'n waji1

day (was for making day), and one

iyu's u

da'gu-do'ka nu'n-kta-he ? ’ ’ what are you going to do?” ea'-hucta, ‘ ‘ unmaci'ga-tce, she said, “ I am pitiable,

ni-ta'kona ii'etce. Ga'ic

is your friend, that is he. There

cu'nga ja'atce,” ea'-huncta.

there

dog

is,

she said. .waji11'

Wa'paxtane yucke'ne ;

Medicine-bag he untied; one (medicine) ingi'snidjetca. Je'tcen nankpa'en could restore life. And by the wrist

n'ne; intgo'm uns gi'dji-ba'jiban-huncta. Ga'yedja tea11 da'nga

he held her; point wajin, iyu'hana one, all over otl'bi-huncta. nest (she turned into), peju'da waji1 medicine one

writh ane'tka limbs Tcan'-je The tree an'ba-je'e-huncta je day-making

her he touched, o'datc tcan'je many trunk

trees

big

Then

iyu'han tuxman'ra ko

whole bees

iyu'hagen sl'dja-huncta. Je'tcen ko'cka'ne

all ugly. Then the youth

e'agu'tcen-huncta. Num jion's

he took not. The two others

e,agu-huncta.

he took.

Jetcen tako'na-gu kbaji'ban-huncta.

Then his comrade he touched.

Ake'c ta-cu'ngage (?)

Again his horse

kbajl'ban-hucta. Ake'c cu'nga

he touched. Again dog

toka11' baji'-ba-huncta. Ga'yedja

a stranger he touched. Then

najin'-hucta. Je'tce “du'kec na'jin” he stood. Then “Wait, iyu'han all

djus'kfnaje

little

wyintca'cta

bajl'ban-hucta he touched. tokan'-huncta, man strange,

edjia'-huncta. Je'tcen

he said. Then

Ake'c Again inxa'xa laughing ingl'snije life-medicine

uns wintca-baji'ba-huncta. wTith he touched them.

ginsni'-wintca'ya-huncta. he restored to life.

stand”

Iyu'hana

All

Je'tcen wintca'giya-huncta. Je'tcen

Then he spoke to them. Thus he said,

iya'-u'-bi-ga'ctac, iyu'hana iya'miningfa-kna-bo,” e'wintcagl'ya-huncta.

you come from all go home,

cea'-hunc*ta,

“db'kia

“ Wherever,

Je'tcen a'minmgl a

he told them.

da'gu oya'de-ne db'kia'-ta'-ha11 hl'bi-ne, iyu ha Then they scattered whatever tribes where from they came,^ all

kna'bi-huncta, waci'dju ko i'yu. Je'tcen ic-nan'ax etce'n an-'huncta. they went home, the whites ? also. Then she alone thus was left.

Ga'yedja hebl'a tako na-gu And on the way his friend

.Je'tcen takona'gu

gitci

Then his comrade with

kna'huncta.

he went home.

270

Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History. [Vol. IV.

iejl/a-Jinncta. “Kona', hebl'a wa-un'-tcehan' wacl'dju ti

thus spoke. “Partner, on the way as I was coming, whiteman’s house

wajin/ en wahl', ga'yedja winko'cka wajiQ' wacte'tc jin u'. Ga'yedja one at I arrived, then girl a pretty came. Then

Kona' tokia' lie?’ ewa'gia. Ga'yedja ‘eya'c niye'c’ ema'ngl'a.”

Comrade where ?’ I asked. Then ‘it is you yourself,’ she told me.”

Je'teen wo'siknaVe je'teen tahko'na-gu-ne cikna'-huncta. Ga'yedja

Then

Then when he told him

‘Hunkta'

ya wo,

jeji'a-huncta,

he said, “ Go on

edjia'-huncta. Je'teen “ toga' he said. Then “First

owo'nkna'gi-c au'ta-huncta. he looked back not, he shot him.

waci'dju tl'djen kV-huncta. white man’s home to he came. inwan'ra-huncta. Je'teen

he asked. Then

his comrade

kona',

comrade,

was angry.

ito'

now

gihan iva'ya”-huncta.

hunkta' ya'-wo ’ go on,”

Ga'yetca lead on.” Then

inxpe'akna'-liuncta. Teen

Then

etcin'-huneta. Je'teen he thought. Then kt’e'-nen kl'-huncta. dead there he came to. u ns kba j i'ba-huncta .

with he touched him. si'djaye, kna'-huncta.

he went home. _/

Hi'nkna

Then he left him.

Teen winko'cka-ne Then the girl

ogi'djiaga'-huncta. . Ga'yedja, she told him. Then

iyu'hana

all

“Ha!”

“Ha!”

badly,

Jeta'ha11

There

lu’ma

n'

inxpe a, he left him, ne'ic

at last

the other je-djl'a-huncta, “Ne'meec told him, “I heard

gisnl'iya'ye. Je'teen niye you restored him. Then edjia'-huncta atgu'gu. said his father.

tokia'ya'ya-huncta. had already gone away

uwa'ndjax Mb'nP kna'-huncta. when he heard back he wrent.

Je'teen peju'da-je e'agu-hi'nkna, Then medicine he took,

Ga'yedja ginsni'-huncta.

Then he restored him to life. Je'teen waci'dju tl'-jen Then white man’s house to knidju'-huneta. Ti'-da kl'-huncta went home. At home he arrived kl'-huncta. Ga'yedja

Tako'na-gu

aha'geha'n

His friend ingls'nije' life-medicine Tuka' wana' But he felt knl'-bi-huncta. they came. Ihan'gan Later

atgu'-gu-je

his father

Hinkna' Then

you

Je'teen

Then

came home. Then

nita'-kona ya'akte-huncta. your friend you killed,

djaxta'gu-tcen onea'guc, tukta'm ina'nee,’ have nothing to do here, anywhere go away,” unman' tako'na-gu-je icte'ja teen the other his partner was ashamed

Antiiuoi'. Pap. A. M. N. II.

Vol. IV, Plate I.

Woman Wringing a Skin. (Page 14)

w . ■'

Antiikop. Pap. A. M. N. II.

Assiniboine Couple. (Page 15)

Vol. IV, Plate II.

Dog-Travois. (Page 15)

Anturoi*. Pap. A. M. N. H. Vol. IV, Plate 111.

Fool-Daxcfrs.

(L

16 2 3

GN2

Lowie,

DATE

GN 2 A27 v. 4 pt. 1

Lowie, Robert Harry, 1883 The Assimbome -

0

010101 000

63 0202049 4

TRENT UNIVERSITY

. A27 v. 4 pt. 1 Robert Harry The Assiniboine

ISSUEJ)^

74269