Cockroach Stories – Jamaica

a. Cock's Breakfast.

Richard Morgan, Santa Cruz Mountains.

One day Cockroach said lo Cock, "Brar Cock, get little breakfas' so I will come an' have breakfas' wid you." Cock said yes. Cockroach come, Cockroach eat. When he done 'e said, "Brat Cock, when you know time my breakfas' ready, come." Cock said, "How mus' I know?" Cockroach said, "I wi' gi' you a sign. When you hear I mak noise, don' come; but when you hear I stay still in de yard, you mus' come." When Cock go, he didn't fin' Cockroach. Cock return back to his yard. Secon' day, Cockroach come an' say, "O Brat Cock! from I lef' you heah, pain all over my skin so I go an' lie down, I couldn't look a t'ing; but t'-day you can come." Cock do de same, go to de yard, didn't fin' him, return back. When he ketch half way, he hear in Cockroach house,

"Ring a ting ting,
Me know nigger fe nigger!"

Cock tak time, tip on him toe. An' go long to one gourd, he hear Cockroach in a de gourd. An' Cock tak him bill, lick him at de gourd. Cockroach run out. Cock pick him up an' swaller him. So from dat day, not a cockroach walk a fowl yard any more.[1]

b. Feigning Sick. (1)

Eliza Wright, Maroon Town, Cock-pit country.

Cockroach an' Fowl, de two of dem keep house, an' de two of dem mak up to plant de groun'. An' ev'ry day Fowl ready fe go plant de groun', Cockroach fawn sick in bed. An' Fowl get up an' do everyt'ing in de house an' get Cockroach breakfas' an' bile it an' put it up, an' he go plant de groun'. An' when he catch part of de way, Cockroach come out of bed an' boil him breakfas', an' he didn't eat what Fowl left fe him, he fawn sick. An' he took up him fiddle an' sit down an' play now,

"Brar Fowl, I mak you plan' a groun'!
Cro-co-ty.
Brar Fowl, I mak you plan' a groun'!
Cro-co-ty!"

So one day when Fowl go out, he go half way an' put down de plant an' dodge him. Cockroach tak him fiddle an' play again,

[1. This is a reference to the common saying, Cockroach never so drunk, no walk a fowl yard.]

"Brar Fowl, I mak you plan' a groun'!
Cro-co-ty.
Brar Fowl, I mak you plan' a groun'!
Cro-co-ty."

An' Fowl run in an' pick him up an' swaller him, an' from dat day, Cockroach, if he ever so drunk, won't walk a fowl yard.

b. Feigning Sick. (2)

George Barrett, Maroon Town, Cock-pit country.

One day Anansi an' Cockroach make a bargain to give a day in groun' weed grass. Anansi was to go wid Cockroach to weed grass. De day fe him to go he sick, have fever. When Cockroach come, Anansi say he got fever. When Cockroach gone, he began to sing,

"Groun' too far!
Rikity.
Groun' too far!
Rikity."

Cockroach turn back, say, "You want to mak me a fool!" Anansi say, "Oh, no, no! fever!"

c. The Drum.

Mrs. Matilda Hall, Harmony Hall.

Once there is Dog, Monkey, Tiger, Puss and Cockroach. So Christmas coming and hear them playing all about music and them has none. An' said, "We have to make up to make a drum now, then how will we manage?" So they says, "The only way, we have to cut a little little of our skin to make a drum." The Roach said, "I have none", so them drive him out of the company and he got into a banana tree to live; then he turned round to them and said, "I first will play that drum!"--"How will you get it to play?" them ask him, an' said, "I first will play it!"

Well, them fit up the drum now with the skin, hang it up to get cure. So Christmas eve fall now. Then going to the market to buy up all them things, catch about three quarter of a mile they heard the drum playing, said, "Biddy bwoy! who playing our drum?" So it is Roach took down the drum, put it between his feet and began to play;

"Kelly money better kelly better,
Kelly money better kelly better,
Tira coota na tira ding ding,
Tira coota na tira ding ding!"

is the Roach singing. The Puss come see him and kill him, and Puss eat Roach until this day.

NOTE: 

Cockroach Stories.

For version (a) compare number 6.

For version (b) compare Tremearne, 314; Parsons, Andros Island, 90-91 and note.

Jamaica Anansi Stories ,Martha Warren Beckwith, New York, Published By The American Folk-Lore Society, G. E. Stechert & Co., Agents. [1924] and is now in the public domain.

Cochiti History

Cochiti (Ko-chi-ti'). A Keresan tribe and its pueblo on the west bank of the Rio Grande, 27 miles south west of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Before moving to their present location the inhabitants occupied the Tyuonyi, or Rito de los Frijoles, the Potrero de las Vacas, the pueblo of Haatze on Potrero San Miguel or Potrero del Capulin, and the pueblo of Kuapa in the Cañada de Cochiti. Up to this time, which was still before the earliest Spanish explorations, the ancestors of the present San Felipe inhabitants and those of Cochiti formed one tribe speaking a single dialect, but on account of the persistent hostility of their north neighbors, the Tewa (to whom is attributed this gradual southerly movement and through whore they were compelled to abandon Kuapa), the tribe was divided, one branch going southward, where they built the pueblo of Katishtya (later called San Felipe), while the other took refuge on the Potrero Viejo, where they established at least a temporary pueblo known as Hanut Cochiti. On the abandonment of this village they retired 6 or 7 miles south east to the site of the present Cochiti, on the Rio Grande, where they were found by Oñate in 1598. The Cochiti took an active part in the Pueblo revolt of 1680, but remained in their pueblo for 15 months after the outbreak, when, learning of the return of Gov. Otertnin to reconquer New Mexico, they retreated with the Keresan tribes of San Felipe and Santo Domingo, re-enforced by some Tewa from San Marcos and by Tigua from Taos and Picuris, to the Potrero Viejo, where they remained until about 1683, when it was reported that all the villages from San Felipe northward were inhabited. Between 1683 and 1692 the Cochiti, with their San Felipe and San Marcos allies, again took refuge on the Potrero Viejo. In the fall of the latter year they were visited in their fortified abode (known to the Spaniards as Cieneguilla) by Vargas, the reconqueror of New Mexico, who induced them to promise to return to their permanent villages on the Rio Grande. But only San Felipe proved sincere, for in 1692 the Cochiti returned to the Potrero, where they remained until early in the following year, when Vargas, with 70 soldiers, 20 colonists, and 100 warriors from the friendly villagers of San Felipe, Santa Ana, and Sia, assaulted the pueblo at midnight and forced the Cochiti to flee, the Indian allies leaving for the protection of their own homes. The force of Vargas being thus weakened, the Cochiti returned, surprised the Spaniard, and succeeded in liberating most of the Indian captives. Vargas remained a short time, then burned the pueblo and evacuated the Potrero, taking with him to Santa Fe a large quantity of corn and other booty and nearly 200 captive women. Cochiti was the seat of the Spanish mission of San Buenaventura, with 300 inhabitants in 1680, but it was reduced to a visita of Santo Domingo after 1782. These villagers recognize the following clans, those marked with an asterisk being extinct: Oshach (Sun), Tsits (Water), Itra (Cottonwood), Shuwhami (Turquoise), Mohkach (Mountain Lion), Kuhaia (Bear), Tanyi (Calabash), Shrutsuna (Coyote), Hapanyi (Oak), Yaka (Corn, Hakanyi (Fire), *Dyami (Eagle) *Tsin (Turkey), *Kuts (Antelope), *Shruhwi (Rattlesnake), *Washpa (Dance-kilt), *Kishqra (Reindeer?). In addition, Bandelier notes an Ivy and a Mexican Sage clan.

Present population 300. The Cochiti people occupy a grant of 24,256 acres, allotted to them by the Spanish government and confirmed by United States patent in 1864.

Handbook of American Indians, 1906

Cold and Frost, or Stone Coat Women - Seneca

Characters
HÍNO' - Thunder
GÉNOnSKWA - Stone Coat (Cold and Frost)


ONCE four men started off on a hunting expedition, They went in canoes up a large river. These men were the first men to make a canoe. When the chief of the party said, "We will land at King Fisher's place," the men were glad for they had been out a number of days. After they had drawn their canoes to the bank the chief said, "Each man must do his best, must bring in all the game he can." The next morning the chief asked the sun, the moon and the stars to help them, and give them success in getting game.

The men were good hunters and soon they had plenty of meat. Then two of the party said, "We are going farther into the forest to hunt for elk."

"You must be careful," said the old man, "and not go too far away from a trail; something might happen."

One of the men was stubborn, he always wanted his own way. He wouldn't follow the old man's advice. But he went farther than he intended.

When night came all the party returned to camp except the stubborn man and as they gathered around the fire they talked of him and said he must have gone far into the forest.

The man traveled all day. When night overtook him he built a fire. After a while he heard voices and looking across the river that was near where be had camped, he saw two women and a baby. The baby was crying. One of the women sat down and nursed it. The man was glad that there were people around.

Soon one of the women noticed that there was a man on the opposite side of the river, and she called out, "How did you cross, brother!"

It seemed strange to him that he could hear her words from such a distance, but he told her to come straight toward his fire.

Again the woman asked, "How did you cross, brother?" and he repeated, "Come straight toward my fire." She asked a third time, and a third time he answered, "Come straight toward my fire." He began to be frightened, began to think that maybe they were Stone Coats, though they looked like women.

The younger woman asked, "Can we stay all night by your fire?"

"If you come over, you may stay by my fire," answered the man.

Looking sharply at the women he knew now that they were not human beings. One said to the other, "If we go higher up, we may find a place to cross," and they started. Soon they came to the log where the man had crossed. Men he saw them coming, he ran some distance down stream, crossed at a ford and went to a point opposite his fire. When they came to his fire and saw that he was where they had been, one called out, "Why did you run away from us? Nothing will happen to you. Come back. We won't harm you." One of the women picked up his tomahawk and drew her finger along the edge of it. "I wonder if this would take a person's life?" said she.

"Yes," called the man, "it would take any one's life. Put it down!"

She laid it down. They urged him to come to the fire. When he refused they were angry and were determined to get at him. They started for the crossing, saying, "Wait where you are till we come over."

"Very well," answered the man, but when he saw them crossing he ran to the ford and when they reached the place where he had been he was on the opposite side, by the fire.

The women couldn't walk side by side, one followed the other, the younger woman carried the baby.

When they saw the man standing by his fire the elder woman called to him, "A time will come when I will get at you!"

"You kill people," said the man.

"You are not able to kill any one," replied the woman.

"I'll show you what I can do," said the man. He drew his tomahawk and struck a rock; great pieces split off.

"I think he can kill us," said the woman.

Picking up his bow the man aimed at a tree; the arrow went straight to the mark. The woman, seeing his skill, was astonished and thought, "He is a man to be feared."

"That man must be HÍNO' (Thunder)," said the younger woman.

"He is dodging around," said the elder, "but I will kill him!" She was angry because he tried to keep away from them.

When the man saw the women recrossing the river he went into the river and under the water. They couldn't see him. He stayed in the river till daylight, then he started off toward the camp where his companions were. He was a swift runner, but about midday he heard a voice say, "Now I have caught you!"

When he knew that the women were behind him he did his best, but his strength was failing. Finding that he couldn't escape by running, he climbed a tree. He had just reached a place in the thick branches when the elder woman came and stood under the tree. Her daughter, who was carrying the child, ran up; the mother nursed the child and then said, "We must hurry and overtake him!" (Stone Coats, because of their clothing, couldn't look up, so the woman didn't see the man.) When she wanted to know how far away he was, she took a tiny finger out of her bosom and put it on the palm of her hand. The finger stood erect and pointed straight at the man.

That minute the man slipped down, snatched the finger and ran off. The finger was of great service; the man could run faster. It was an adviser also and pointed out the road to be taken. The man consulted the finger to find how far he was from camp and in what direction it was.

The finger raised a little and pointed in a certain direction. After he had run some distance he consulted the finger again. It hardly rose from his hand. He knew then that he was near his comrades. When he reached camp, he ate, regained his strength and then told his story, but he didn't tell about the finger. The chief of the party said, "We must gather up our things and go home."

When the men were in their canoes and were pushing away from the bank, they saw a woman coming. She was crying. When near enough she called out, "Give back what you have taken and you will be successful. If you return what belongs to me, you will have good luck."

"What did you take from her?" asked the chief. "Whatever it was it may be true that we will have good luck if you give it back."

The man drew out the finger and showed it to his comrades.

"Let her have it if she will promise not to molest us again," said the chief. The man put the finger on the palm of his hand and reached it toward the woman as far as he could and she reached to get it. She slipped, fell into the river, and sank. They saw only bubbles.

"Let us be off quickly!" said the man, and they rowed away as fast as they could. They reached home in safety. The man kept the finger. He became very expert in bunting for be always consulted the finger. When he put it on his palm and asked where game was, it rose and pointed in the direction the animal would be found. And as long as the man lived he had a supply of all things good to eat.

Seneca Indian Myths, by Jeremiah Curtin; New York; E.P. Dutton & Company [1922] and is now in the public domain.

Cochiti

Cochiti (Ko-chi-ti'). A Keresan tribe and its pueblo on the west bank of the Rio Grande, 27 miles south west of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Before moving to their present location the inhabitants occupied the Tyuonyi, or Rito de los Frijoles, the Potrero de las Vacas, the pueblo of Haatze on Potrero San Miguel or Potrero del Capulin, and the pueblo of Kuapa in the Cañada de Cochiti. Up to this time, which was still before the earliest Spanish explorations, the ancestors of the present San Felipe inhabitants and those of Cochiti formed one tribe speaking a single dialect, but on account of the persistent hostility of their north neighbors, the Tewa (to whom is attributed this gradual southerly movement and through whore they were compelled to abandon Kuapa), the tribe was divided, one branch going southward, where they built the pueblo of Katishtya (later called San Felipe), while the other took refuge on the Potrero Viejo, where they established at least a temporary pueblo known as Hanut Cochiti. On the abandonment of this village they retired 6 or 7 miles south east to the site of the present Cochiti, on the Rio Grande, where they were found by Oñate in 1598. The Cochiti took an active part in the Pueblo revolt of 1680, but remained in their pueblo for 15 months after the outbreak, when, learning of the return of Gov. Otertnin to reconquer New Mexico, they retreated with the Keresan tribes of San Felipe and Santo Domingo, re-enforced by some Tewa from San Marcos and by Tigua from Taos and Picuris, to the Potrero Viejo, where they remained until about 1683, when it was reported that all the villages from San Felipe northward were inhabited. Between 1683 and 1692 the Cochiti, with their San Felipe and San Marcos allies, again took refuge on the Potrero Viejo. In the fall of the latter year they were visited in their fortified abode (known to the Spaniards as Cieneguilla) by Vargas, the reconqueror of New Mexico, who induced them to promise to return to their permanent villages on the Rio Grande. But only San Felipe proved sincere, for in 1692 the Cochiti returned to the Potrero, where they remained until early in the following year, when Vargas, with 70 soldiers, 20 colonists, and 100 warriors from the friendly villagers of San Felipe, Santa Ana, and Sia, assaulted the pueblo at midnight and forced the Cochiti to flee, the Indian allies leaving for the protection of their own homes. The force of Vargas being thus weakened, the Cochiti returned, surprised the Spaniard, and succeeded in liberating most of the Indian captives. Vargas remained a short time, then burned the pueblo and evacuated the Potrero, taking with him to Santa Fe a large quantity of corn and other booty and nearly 200 captive women. Cochiti was the seat of the Spanish mission of San Buenaventura, with 300 inhabitants in 1680, but it was reduced to a visita of Santo Domingo after 1782. These villagers recognize the following clans, those marked with an asterisk being extinct: Oshach (Sun), Tsits (Water), Itra (Cottonwood), Shuwhami (Turquoise), Mohkach (Mountain Lion), Kuhaia (Bear), Tanyi (Calabash), Shrutsuna (Coyote), Hapanyi (Oak), Yaka (Corn, Hakanyi (Fire), *Dyami (Eagle) *Tsin (Turkey), *Kuts (Antelope), *Shruhwi (Rattlesnake), *Washpa (Dance-kilt), *Kishqra (Reindeer?). In addition, Bandelier notes an Ivy and a Mexican Sage clan.

 Present population 300. The Cochiti people occupy a grant of 24,256 acres, allotted to them by the Spanish government and confirmed by United States patent in 1864

Handbook of American Indians (1906) ~ Frederick W. Hodge

Cloud People

A little boy stood watching the changes in the sky while his father finished making arrows.

"Father, why is it that I see the cloud people's faces in the sky and then they change?"

"The cloud people are telling you a story, my son. Shall we watch and figure out the Medicine Story the sky nation is giving you today?"

As the two watched, they saw the giant profile of a man, made of clouds, with his lips pursed as if he was whistling or blowing air. Then it changed. An eagle appeared to be gliding on the currents. Later, another change brought the lone figure of an Indian warrior, reaching for an arrow that was flying across the sky. The arrow changed to an eagle feather, and the clouds rolled away.

After reflecting, the boy explained that he saw the Wind Chief blow the breeze that lifted Eagle's wings. The warrior on the ground had to reach higher than his head to catch the arrow of truth. In grasping the truth, the warrior earned an eagle feather. The warrior became the brother of the Eagle, understanding the truth that the Great Mystery sent through his spiritual messengers of the sky nation.

 His father smiled, for his son had learned to listen to another one of their relations.

Submitted by Brother To Horse

Clover Grasses, Grass Seeds, And Edible Roots – Miwok

Green clover and grasses were eaten raw; the Indian simply grazing on the meadows as would a horse. Dried grass seeds were gathered by shaking them from their stems into baskets and made into mush or soup. The bulbous root of the brodiæa, a lily-like plant that abounds in the meadows and along the streams, was also used extensively as a food, being prepared and eaten much in the same manner as the boiled domestic onion of today.

The Lore and the Lure of the Yosemite: The Indians, Their Customs, Legends and Beliefs, and the Story of Yosemite; by Herbert Earl Wilson; San Francisco; A. M. Robertson [1922] and is now in the public domain.[ Miwok]

Coastal Amis Legend of Tribal Origins – Taiwan

In the distant past a god named Abokirayan lived on the sea to the east of Taiwan. One day the god came to the island of Botoru, and he settled here with the goddess Tariburayan. One day Abokirayan pulled hard on a vine hanging from a tree and accidentally kindled a fire. This was the beginning of fire. One day when the god and goddess were squatting around the fire and cooking yams they discovered that the god had a protrusion in the genital area and the goddess had an indentation. Later they saw a pair of wagtails copulating, and from this they learned about sexual intercourse. Among the couple's numerous descendants, Abokutayan made a log boat and sailed with the goddesses Tariburayan and Teposuruyan to Kawasan in the west. Because a cruel and violent god already occupied Kawasan, the explorers continued to the north until they came to Dalaloma (in the vicinity of today's Hualien). Since this place was also unsuitable for dwelling, they sailed on to the mouth of Liwu creek. The found this to be a propitious site for a home, and they planted the sweet potatos they had brought with them. They gathered and ate the rice and millet that grew wild, used wood and bamboo to make hoes, and tilled the soil. Their descendants multiplied and settled along the east coast of Taiwan.

http://www.atayal.org/ArticleView.asp?catID=5

Cloud Catcher and the Moon Woman - Ojibwa

Here is the myth of Endymion and Diana, as told on the shores of Saginaw Bay, in Michigan, by Indians who never heard of Greeks. Cloud Catcher, a handsome youth of the Ojibways, offended his family by refusing to fast during the ceremony of his coming of age, and was put out of the paternal wigwam. It was so fine a night that the sky served him as well as a roof, and he had a boy's confidence in his ability to make a living, and something of fame and fortune, maybe. He dropped upon a tuft of moss to plan for his future, and drowsily noted the rising of the moon in which he seemed to see a face. On awakening he found that it was not day, yet the darkness was half dispelled by light that rayed from a figure near him--the form of a lovely woman. "Cloud Catcher, I have come for you," she said. And as she turned away he felt impelled to rise and follow. But, instead of walking, she began to move into the air with the flight of an eagle, and, endowed with a new power, he too ascended beside her. The earth was dim and vast below, stars blazed as they drew near them, yet the radiance of the woman seemed to dull their glory. Presently they passed through a gate of clouds and stood on a beautiful plain, with crystal ponds and brooks watering noble trees and leagues of flowery meadow; birds of brightest colors darted here and there, singing like flutes; the very stones were agate, jasper and chalcedony. An immense lodge stood on the plain, and within were embroideries and ornaments, couches of rich furs, pipes and arms cut from jasper and tipped with silver. While the young man was gazing around him with delight, the brother of his guide appeared and reproved her, advising her to send the young man back to earth at once, but, she flatly refused to do so, he gave a pipe and bow and arrows to Cloud Catcher, as a token of his consent to their marriage, and wished them happiness, which, in fact, they had. This brother, who was commanding, tall, and so dazzling in his gold and silver ornaments that one could hardly look upon him, was abroad all day, while his sister was absent for a part of the night. He permitted Cloud Catcher to go with him on one of his daily walks, and as they crossed the lovely Sky Land they glanced down through open valley bottoms on the green earth below. The rapid pace they struck gave to Cloud Catcher an appetite and he asked if there were no game. "Patience," counseled his companion. On arriving at a spot where a large hole had been broken through the sky they reclined on mats, and the tall man loosing one of his silver ornaments flung it into a group of children playing before a lodge. On of the little ones fell and was carried within, amid lamentations. Then the villagers left their sports and labors and looked up at the sky. The tall man cried, in a voice of thunder, "Offer a sacrifice and the child shall be well again." A white dog was killed, roasted, and in a twinkling it shot up the feet of Cloud Catcher, who, being empty, attacked it voraciously. Many such walks and feasts came after, and the sights of earth and taste of meat filled the mortal with longing to see his people again. He told his wife that he wanted to go back. She consented, after a time, saying, "Since you are better pleased with the cares, the ills, the labor, and the poverty of the world than with the comfort and abundance of Sky Land, you may return; but remember you are still my husband, and beware how you venture to take an earthly maiden for a wife. "She arose lightly, clasped Cloud Catcher by the wrist, and began to move with him through the air. The motion lulled him and he fell asleep, waking at the door of his father's lodge. His relatives gathered and gave him welcome, and he learned that he had been in the sky for a year. He took the privations of a hunter's and warrior's life less kindly than he though to, and after a time he enlivened its monotony by taking to wife a bright-eyed girl of his tribe. In four days she was dead. The lesson was unheeded and he married again. Shortly after, he stepped from his lodge one evening and never came back. The woods were filled with a strange radiance on that night, and it is asserted that Cloud Catcher was taken back to the lodge of the Sun and Moon, and is now content to live in heaven.

Climbing the Mountain – Cahuillan

Here in the dry desert, of the southwestern part of our country, there lived the Cahuillan Indian Tribe, and just to the north of them, off in the distance, was the very high range of mountains we today call the San Bernardino Mountains. It was considered a great and important achievement to be able to climb this mountain, and so all the young boys of the village looked forward to the day when they were old enough that they could try it on their own.

One night, during the Fall season of the year, the Chief called all the boys together and said to them, "Now, boys, you are of the proper age to accept this challenge, and you may now all go out tomorrow and seek to climb that mountain with my blessings. Start right after breakfast, and each of you, go as far as you can, and, when you are tired, come back, but you must bring back a twig from the place where you turned."

The boys were so excited they could hardly sleep that night.

The next morning, away they all went, full of hope and dreams, each feeling that he could surely reach the top.

Soon a fat, pudgy boy come slowly back, puffing and sweating all the way. As he stood before his Chief, he showed in his hand, that he held a piece of green Beavertail Cactus. "My boy," the Chief smiled in disbelief, "I can see you did not reach the foot of the mountain. In fact you did not get across the desert to even start the climb."

An hour passed. Then another boy returned carrying a twig of Black Sagebrush. "Well," said the Chief, "I can see you did reach the mountain's foot, but you did not start to climb."

Another hour passed, and a third boy returned. He held a young Cottonwood sapling. "Good work," said the Chief, "you got up as far as the springs! Very good!"

A bit of a longer wait, and there came a boy with a part of some Buckthorn. The Chief smiled when he saw it, and said, "You were actually climbing! I can see you were up to that first rockslide. You are a hard working boy."

Later in the afternoon, one arrived with an Incense Cedar frond. "Well done, my boy," said the Chief. "You made it half way up! You have seen the heart of the mountain. Very good job."

An hour after that, one came with a branch of Ponderosa Pine, and to him the Chief said, "Good job. You went to the third life zone. It looks like you made it three quarters of the way. I bet if you keep trying, next year you will undoubtedly reach the top!"

The sun was low, and even the Chief was starting to worry a bit. There were many pitfalls on that mountain to overcome, and the last of his boys was still outside of camp. Could a Grizzly Bear have ambushed him? Or maybe he fell off a tall rock facing somewhere, never to be heard from again ? Maybe he had lost his way, or ran out of water.

As it happened, just when the Chief was to send out a search party to look for the boy, he was at last returned. He was a tall, splendid boy of noble character, everyone already knew he was marked to be successful in life. He approached the Chief and held out his hand. It was empty, but his face was glowing with happiness when the boy said, "My Chief, there were no trees where I came from. I saw no twigs, no living thing up on that peak. And far away I could see the glorious sight of the sun shining off the sea."

Now the old man's face started to glow too! He turned around, and said aloud with an almost musical tone in his voice, "I knew it! I just knew it when I looked upon your face. You have been all the way to the top! It was written in your eyes! It rings in your voice! And it is alive in the way you carry your body! My boy, you need no twigs for token. You have felt the uplift in your spirit because you have seen the glory of the mountain!"

Dearest Scouts, keep this in mind, that the badges that are offered you for your achievements, are not "prizes" to be "won". For prizes are things of value, taken by force or contest from their rightful owners. These badges, are then, just tokens, of what you have done, and where you have been. Remember this that as fun as these badges are to earn, they are just twigs collected from the trail, to show how far you got, during your climb to manhood.

California

http://www.indigenouspeople.net/climbing.htm

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Clever Molly May – Jamaica

Emily Alexander, Mandeville.

Once Anansi went out to invite a friend to dinner, Little Molly May was his servant, so he left her to roast a turkey for dinner, Anansi filled the wine-jug, laid the table, put on his frock coat and his top hat, took his walking-stick and went out for his friend. Molly May roasted the turkey. Seeing that it looked so nice and charming, she thought that she would take a piece; so she did, and it tasted so nice she took another piece. That tasted so nice she took a next piece and a sip of the wine, and she sipped and tasted till at last she had eaten up the whole turkey and drunk the whole of the wine.

She saw the master coming; so she ran in swift haste, took up the bones, fixed them nicely in the dish, covered the dish, and carried it and laid it on the table. When the master came, he sent the visitor into the house and said to Molly May, "Hullo, deh! everyt'ing all right?" She said, "Yes, sah! all is right." So the master took up the carving-knife and went outside to sharpen it. Molly ran inside and told the visitor that the master was sharpening the knife to cut off one of his hands; the visitor in swift haste left the house. Then Molly went outside and told the master that the visitor had eaten all the turkey and drunk the wine. The master ran through one door and, seeing all the bones on the table, went through the other. The visitor was running for his life and Anansi went running after him, calling "Leave one! leave one!" He meant leave one (side of) the turkey, but the visitor thought he meant one of his hands, so he ran for his life.

NOTE:

Clever Molly May.

See Grimm 77, Clever Gretel, Bolte u. Polívka 2:129-131; and Parsons, Sea Islands, 140. From this point in the group of stories Anansi is introduced in the role of hero.

Jamaica Anansi Stories ,Martha Warren Beckwith, New York, Published By The American Folk-Lore Society, G. E. Stechert & Co., Agents. [1924] and is now in the public domain.

Clever Frog – Klamath

One day Coyote went out hunting and had good luck. In the morning he shot a squirrel. At midday he caught only a mouse. But in the afternoon he shot a fine plump rabbit for his dinner. He had been hungry for days, and so, as he trotted home through the woods with the rabbit slung on his back. Coyote was pleased with himself.

Suddenly, where the path led out from under the trees and into the tall grass he spied a frog hopping along ahead of him.

"Ho!" cried Coyote, and he pounced, pinning poor Frog to the ground.

"What luck!" said Coyote. "Here is a nice juicy morsel to do me until I reach home and roast my dinner."

But as Coyote's teeth came close. Frog cried out in a great bullfrog voice. "Hold, Brother Coyote!"

Coyote stared at the little green fellow under his foot. "Why should I?" said he.

"Hai!" Frog thought quickly. "I meant to say, 'Don't eat me today." For then you would miss tomorrow's race."

"Race?" Coyote's ears pricked up, for he loved races. "What race? I have heard of no race."

"That is because I did not think of it before," said Frog. "You and I shall run a race. Brother Coyote, and if you win, you shall eat me on the spot."

"Agreed!" said Coyote, who could never turn down a dare or pass up a bet. For of course he would win, and Frog would taste as good-or better-tomorrow.

When it was agreed where and when they should meet. Coyote went on his way. Frog hopped down to the stream in the meadow to find his friends.

"I must run a race with Coyote tomorrow," said he to his friends. "At noon we will run from the spring to the alder tree at the bottom of the meadow and back. And if Coyote wins, he will eat me."

The other frogs threw up their hand? and laughed at his foolishness. "Hai, Coyote will win! How can he lose?"

Frog grinned a wide grin. "He will not win if I have the help of my friends," said he. "Not if one of you goes early to hide by the alder tree. Not if--when the others signal that Coyote is coming through the tall grass you give three jumps to make him think that I have been ahead of him from the start. I will hide near the spring, and when I see him coming I will jump over the finish line just before him."

Frog's friends agreed.

Late the next morning when Coyote arrived at the spring. Frog was there before him, hopping up and down as if he were eager to race. When the noonday sun was overhead, they started. Coyote dashed off as fast as he could go. Frog made three hops into the deep grass and sat down to wait.

Coyote raced on, but seeing no Frog at his heels or ahead, was sure he had left him far behind. Then, as he spied the alder tree before him, to his great surprise he saw the frog making his first hop into the turn around the tree.

"Now this is very strange," thought Coyote, and he ran faster still. "I did not see him pass me." On the frog's third hop Coyote shot past and called over his shoulder, "Fast, but not fast enough! I will wait for you at the finish line."

Coyote ran as fast as ever he had, but when he came in sight of the finish line there was Frog, making his last three hops.

"Fast, but not fast enough," said Frog as Coyote came panting up.

Coyote went home in disgust.

California

Back in the Beforetime: Tales of the California Indians [the Klamath River region in the north to the inland desert mountains and the southern coastlands] Retold by Jane Louise Curry, 1987

Clay Old Woman & Clay Old Man – Hopi

In the beginning the Pueblo peoples did not know how to make pottery. They had no bowls to cook their rabbit stew. They had no jars to carry cool water. The people had no pots to store their seeds for next year's planting. The Wise One in the Land Below saw how hard their life was. Taking some clay, she made one man and one woman. The Wise One named them Clay Old Woman and Clay Old Man. She sent them onto the earth with a big ball of clay and her blessing for the Pueblo peoples. Clay Old Woman and Clay Old Man found themselves in a pueblo. They sat down in the middle of the plaza and the wife set to work with the clay. Curious children crowded close. Women with their babies peered from the rooftops of the houses around the plaza.

Clay Old Woman rolled the clay into long coils between her two rough hands. Around and around she wound the coils to build a pot. The men standing on the log ladders propped against the houses leaned closer for a better look. Clay Old Woman made pot after pot. Her husband began to sing and dance. The longer his wife worked, the louder Clay Old Man sang. The more pots she made, the harder he danced. Puffs of dust danced in his footsteps. Clay Old Man became so caught up in his dance that he tripped. He fell hard against the largest, most beautiful pot. The pot shattered. The people held their breath, wondering what would happen next.

Clay Old Man collected all the potsherds. He handed them to Clay Old Woman and apologized. Clay Old Woman soaked the pieces of the broken pot in water and rolled them back into a ball of clay. Clay Old Man gave a piece of it to every woman in the pueblo. "You have watched my wife work," he said. "You know what to do." The women began to knead their clay. Clay Old Woman nodded to herself as she watched the women work. She was very pleased.

"The Wise One has given you a gift to treasure for all time," said Clay Old Woman. "Do not lose her gift. Never forget how to make pottery."

And the Pueblo peoples have never forgotten.

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Cicipiscikwan - Cree

Long ago a young man named Tawaham, his wife White Feather, and their two sons lived in a tipi near a beautiful lake. The elder of the boys was called Wisakecahk. They were a happy family; Tawaham was a good hunter and White Feather was a fine wife and mother.

Most of Tawaham's time was spent in hunting. After a successful hunt, it was the custom of those days for the women to butcher, dress and carry the meat home. It was also their duty to prepare the skins of animals and make them into robes and clothing for their families. In all these tasks, White Feather excelled.

By and by, it became necessary for Tawaham to hunt farther and farther away from home and he was gone for longer periods of time. Meanwhile, White Feather kept the home in order. One of her daily tasks was to go into the forest for firewood. She was a very busy woman. Garments for her family were carefully sewn. Above all, she enjoyed working on a buckskin dress she was making for herself. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever made. It was decorated with shells and dyed porcupine quills. However, in time, there were no more skins to prepare and make into clothing. White Feather waited for her husband to return.

Towards evening, she would put on her beautiful dress and comb her long, black hair until it shone. She wanted her husband to see how beautiful she was in her new dress, but as each evening ended and Tawaham had still not returned, White Feather went sadly to bed.

Early in the morning she would go into the forest for firewood. Before long, she was even wearing her buckskin dress to go for firewood. The boys would look at their mother fondly, for she was a kind and beautiful woman. Wisakecahk wondered why she wore her best dress while working. Each day she returned later and later and brought home less and less firewood. Her hair became tangled and her lovely dress was untidy and soiled. It became plain to Wisakecahk that his mother did not want anyone to know about her mysterious trips into the forest. All this mystery puzzled Wisakecahk. Where did his mother go? She was becoming a different person, no longer kind and thoughtful of her family. Wisakecahk was kept busy looking after his brother. More and more of his mother's daily tasks became his. Finally, he could wait no longer to find the reason for his mother's strange behavior. One day, he followed her at a distance. To his surprise, she followed the path leading to the lake.

Not far off the path stood an old stump. White Feather struck it three times. From a hole in the stump crawled snake after snake. She sat on a log and caressed the snakes as they crawled around her. For a moment, Wisakecahk could not move. He was stunned with fear and disbelief when he saw his mother and her pets. He turned on his heels and ran home as fast as he could.

In a daze, Wisakecahk went about his daily chores. What he had seen lay heavily on his young heart. He must tell his father, for he was sure that his mother was possessed by a power that would destroy them all. Just as his mother returned home that evening his father arrived. As was usual it was her duty to fetch the kill from the hunt. As soon as White Feather had gone, Wisakecahk told his father the whole story of what he had seen.

Sadly, Tawaham said, "My son, this is indeed a great disaster to our family. If you will be brave and do exactly as I say, you and your brother may be saved. Now, listen to me carefully. Your mother will not return until mid-day tomorrow. When I destroy the snakes, I may have no choice but to destroy your mother also. In case I fail, you must get yourself and your brother ready to escape. I will give you four things to protect you. When you are threatened, throw one of these things between you and the danger. " Tawaham handed Wisakecahk a medicine bundle. Inside the bundle was a bone awl, a piece of fire-flint, a pusacan of birch (which catches the spark from the fire-flint), and an ahpiht (the flat stone which, when struck by the fire-flint, produces a spark).

Early the next morning, Tawaham, disguised in White Feather's buckskin dress, stood before the stump and struck it three times. As each snake crawled out of the hole, Tawaham chopped off its head. He drained the blood into a container. After slaying all the snakes he took their blood home and made it into a soup.

"If your mother takes but one mouthful of this soup, " he told Wisakecahk, "she will be cured of the evil spell the snakes have cast over her. If she refuses, I must kill her. Should If ail, you must run away with your brother. No matter what she tells you to do, you must not listen. " As Tawaham had said, White Feather arrived promptly at mid-day. As if in a trance, she began at once to prepare herself for her meeting with the snakes. She put on her buckskin dress and braided her shiny, black hair. She hastened to leave, but just as she reached the doorway, Tawaham called, "Wait, you must first drink the blood of your lovers. "

With a horrible shriek, she dashed out and flew to the stump. The moment she was out of the lodge, Tawaham sadly bade his sons farewell and warned them that under no circumstances must they allow themselves to be tricked. Holding his brother by the hand, Wisakecahk hurried away. Meanwhile, Tawaham waited behind the flap of the teepee. He stood, the axe poised in mid-air, ready to strike the moment White Feather entered. His aim was accurate and true.

His blow came down the moment the angry woman came in. She fell to the ground, her head severed from her neck. No sooner had it touched the ground, when the body began to fight Tawaham. They struggled long and hard. Tawaham finally caught the body by the ankle and swung it around him. He could not let go of it. Around and around they went until they began to ascend. Up into the sky they went. To this day, when you look up on a clear night, you can still see Tawaham as the North Star and White Feather's body as the Big Dipper. No one knows how much longer Tawaham will continue to hurl White Feather's body round and round. Meanwhile, the head of White Feather began rolling along the ground, pursuing the boys.

"Wisakecahk, my son, wait for me!" it shrieked, "Your little brother is hungry and I must nurse him.

Remembering his father's warning, Wisakecahk kept right on going. Closer and closer came Cicipiscikwan. Wisakecahk was beginning to slow down. By now his sobbing little brother was struggling to go to the familiar voice of his mother. Wisakecahk, with trembling hands, fumbled through the medicine bundle for one of the gifts his father had given him. The first thing he found was the bone awl, so he threw it behind him. At once, a thick wall of thorn bushes appeared. Tired as he was, Wisakecahk realized that he could not stop to rest. Quickly, he gave his brother food and water. They must go on!

In the meantime, Cicipiscikwan was furious when the thorny bush suddenly barred her way just when her prize was so close. Angrily, she rolled up and down. Suddenly, she spied a large worm eating its way through the green
brambles.

"My dear, handsome worm," she said, "if you will open a path for me I promise you my hand in marriage."

"Your hand! Indeed!" said the worm. "What use will you be to me when all you have is a head?"

The worm continued to open a path. Impatiently, Cicipiscikwan rolled back and forth. The worm barely reached the other side, when in crashed the head, squashing the poor worm in the process.

"Ha! Ha!" she said, "Whoever would want to marry a worm?" Wisakecahk had reached the crest of the hill. He stopped to scan the horizon behind him. He felt sick when he saw the head rolling over the hills and down the valleys toward them.

Quickly, he searched through his bundle until he found the pusacan. He held it ready in his hand. Surely these gifts from his father would stop the head from chasing them. He began to run, now carrying his brother. Each time he turned to look, he could see that the head was coming closer and closer. He hurled the pusacan behind him. Twists of flame broke loose.

They roared and flared high to form a scorching wall of fire between them and Cicipiscikwan. Wisakecahk was sure that no one could go through this fire and live, but he couldn't take a chance so he hurried on. On and on the boys fled. Soon he heard the terrible shrieks of the head. Wisakecahk was sure that Cicipiscikwan had tricked some innocent victim into carrying her across the fire. She was getting closer again!

Wisakecahk was now ready to use the third gift. Quickly he threw the ahpiht over his shoulder. A barrier of mountains sprang up. Although he was worn out and could hardly walk, Wisakecahk was determined to continue. He gritted his teeth and forced himself onward. He was sure their survival lay only in his ability to keep going.

"I want my mother. I'm hungry, I want to go to bed!" cried his younger brother.

"Soon we will eat and rest, little brother," encouraged Wisakecahk. Finally his brother cried himself to sleep.

Could Wisakecahk ever forget the horror of this day? Tired and exhausted, he walked on, carrying his brother. Stumbling and falling, he continued on his way. Only his dogged determination to survive had carried him this far. The never-ending fight to keep going and be watchful had taken its toll. He fell. As he fell, his father's only remaining gift, the fire-flint, flew from his hand.

A river suddenly appeared before him, barring his way from further escape. He had accidentally allowed the fire-flint to tumble ahead of him when he fell! Desperately looking for a way of escape, Wisakecahk, with renewed energy, ran up and down the banks of the river. Seeing no other means of escape he jumped into the water.

As he was swimming, Wisakecahk saw a swan.

"Where are you going, my brother?" said the swan.

"Please take us across the river or Cicipiscikwan will kill us!"

"If you are very careful not to sit too close to my stiff neck, I will be happy to take you across," said the swan.

Once again the boys had escaped. But for how long?

Cicipiscikwan rushed up to the bank of the vast river.

"I will make you as white and as graceful as those clouds in the blue sky if you carry me across the river," she called to the swan.

"Gladly!" replied the swan, "but you must be very careful not to sit too close to my stiff neck. Furthermore, you must fulfill your promise to make me white and graceful before I take you across. "

"Just as you wish," said Cicipiscikwan. Immediately the swan turned into a pure, white bird with a long, graceful neck. From that moment, all swans have remained that way.

Cicipiscikwan jumped onto the back of the swan. In her impatience, she forgot the warning and rolled toward the swan's stiff neck. With a flip of her back, the swan threw Cicipiscikwan into the middle of the river. From the opposite bank, Wisakecahk watched what was happening. He began shooting at the head with his bow and arrows. The moment the first arrow hit it, the head changed into a big sturgeon. The flash of its tail in the sun was the last Wisakecahk ever saw of Cicipiscikwan.

As told by Ida McLeod . 

Cinderella – Zuni

(Zuñi: Cushing, Zuni Folk Tales, p. 54[*])

Long, long ago, our ancients had neither sheep nor horses nor cattle; yet they had domestic animals of various kinds--amongst them Turkeys.

In Mátsaki, or the Salt City, there dwelt at this time many very wealthy families, who possessed large flocks of these birds, which it was their custom to have their slaves or the poor people of the town herd in the plains round about Thunder Mountain, below which their town stood, and on the mesas beyond.

Now, in Mátsaki at this time there stood, away out near the border of the town, a little tumbledown, single-room house, wherein there lived alone a very poor girl,--so poor that her clothes were patched and tattered and dirty, and her person, on account of long neglect and ill fare, shameful to look upon, though she herself was not ugly, but had a winning face and bright eyes; that is, if the face had been more oval and the eyes less oppressed with care. So poor was she that she herded Turkeys for a living; and little was given to her except the food she subsisted on from day to day, and perhaps now and then a piece of old, worn-out clothing.

Like the extremely poor everywhere and at all times, she was humble, and by her longing for kindness, which she never received, she was made kind even to the creatures that depended upon her, and lavished this kindness upon the Turkeys she drove to and from the plains every day. Thus, the Turkeys, appreciating this, were very obedient. They loved their mistress so much that at her call they would unhesitatingly come, or at her behest go whithersoever and whensoever she wished.

One day, this poor girl driving her Turkeys down into the plains, passed near Old Zuñi,--the Middle Ant Hill of the World, as our ancients have taught us to call our home,--and as she went along, she heard the herald-priest proclaiming from the house-top that the Dance of the Sacred Bird (which is a very blessed and welcome festival to our people, especially to the youths and maidens who are permitted to join in the dance) would take place in four days.

[*. Reprinted by special arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons, the publishers.]

Now, this poor girt had never been permitted to join in or even to watch the great festivities of our people or the people in the neighboring towns, and naturally she longed very much to see this dance. But she put aside her longing, because she reflected: "It is impossible that I should watch, much less join in the Dance of the Sacred Bird, ugly and ill-clad as I am." And thus musing to herself, and talking to her Turkeys, as was her custom, she drove them on, and at night returned them to their cages round the edges and in the plazas of the town.

Every day after that, until the day named for the dance, this poor girl, as she drove her Turkeys out in the morning, saw the people busy in cleaning and preparing their garments, cooking delicacies, and otherwise making ready for the festival to which they had been duly invited by the other villagers, and heard them talking and laughing merrily at the prospect of the coming holiday. So, as she went about with her Turkeys through the day, she would talk to them, though she never dreamed that they understood a word of what she was saying.

It seems that they did understand even more than she said to them, for on the fourth day, after the people of Mátsaki had all departed toward Zuñi and the girl was wandering around the plains alone with her Turkeys, one of the big Gobblers strutted up to her, and making a fan of his tail, and skirts, as it were, of his wings, blushed with pride and puffed with importance, stretched out his neck and said: "Maiden mother, we know what your thoughts are, and truly we pity you, and wish that, like the other people of Mátsaki, you might enjoy this holiday in the town below. We have said to ourselves at night, after you have placed us safely and comfortably in our cages: 'Truly our maiden mother is as worthy to enjoy these things as any one in Mátsaki, or even Zuñi.' Now, listen well, for I speak the speech of all the elders of my people: If you will drive us in early this afternoon, when the dance is most gay and the people are most happy, we will help you to make yourself so handsome and so prettily dressed that never a man, woman, or child amongst all those who are assembled at the dance will know you; but rather, especially the young men, will wonder whence you came, and long to lay hold of your hand in the circle that forms round the altar to dance. Maiden mother, would you like to go to see this dance, and even to join in it, and be merry with the best of your people?"

The poor girl was at first surprised. Then it seemed all so natural that the Turkeys should talk to her as she did to them, that she sat down on a little mound, and, leaning over, looked at them and said: "My beloved Turkeys, how glad I am that we may speak together! But why should you tell me of things that you full well know 1 so long to, but cannot by any possible means, do?"

"Trust in us," said the old Gobbler, "for I speak the speech of my people, and when we begin to call and call and gobble and gobble, and turn toward our home in Mátsaki, do you follow us, and we will show you what we can do for you. Only let me tell you one thing: No one knows how much happiness and good fortune may come to you if you but enjoy temperately the pleasures we enable you to participate in. But if, in the excess of your enjoyment, you should forget us, who are your friends, yet so much depend upon you, then we will think: 'Behold, this our maiden mother, though so humble and poor, deserves, forsooth, her hard life, because, were she more prosperous, she would be unto others as others now are unto her.'"

"Never fear, O my Turkeys,--cried the maiden,--only half trusting that they could do so much for her, yet longing to try,--"never fear. In everything you direct me to do I will be obedient as you always have been to me."

The sun had scarce begun to decline, when the Turkeys of their own accord turned homeward, and the maiden followed them, light of heart. They knew their places well, and immediately ran to them. When all had entered, even their barelegged children, the old Gobbler called to the maiden, saying: "Enter our house." She therefore went in. "Now, maiden, sit down," said he, "and give to me and my companions, one by one, your articles of clothing. We will see if we cannot renew them."

The maiden obediently drew off the ragged old mantle that covered her shoulders and cast it on the ground before the speaker. He seized it in his beak, and spread it out, and picked and picked at it; then he trod upon it, and lowering his wings, began to strut back and forth over it. Then taking it up in his beak, and continuing to strut, he puffed and puffed, and laid it down at the feet of the maiden, a beautiful white embroidered cotton mantle. Then another Gobbler came forth, and she gave him another article of dress, and then another and another, until each garment the maiden had worn was new and as beautiful as any possessed by her mistresses in Mátsaki.

Before the maiden donned all these garments, the Turkeys circled about her, singing and singing, and clucking and clucking, and brushing her with their wings, until her person was as clean and her skin as smooth and bright as that of the fairest maiden of the wealthiest home in Mátsaki. Her hair was soft and wavy, instead of being an ugly, sun-burnt shock; her cheeks were full and dimpled, and her eyes dancing with smiles,--for she now saw how true had been the words of the Turkeys.

Finally, one old Turkey came, forward and said: "Only the rich ornaments worn by those who have many possessions are lacking to thee, O maiden mother. Wait a moment. We have keen eyes, and have gathered many valuable things,--as such things, being small, though precious, are apt to be lost from time to time by men and maidens."

Spreading his wings, he trod round and round upon the ground, throwing his head back, and laying his wattled beard on his neck; and, presently beginning to cough, he produced in his beak a beautiful necklace; another Turkey brought forth earrings, and so on, until all the proper ornaments appeared, befitting a well-clad maiden of the olden days, and were laid at the feet of the poor Turkey girl.

With these beautiful things she decorated herself, and, thanking the Turkeys over and over, she started to go, and they called out: "O maiden mother, leave open the wicket, for who knows whether you will remember your Turkeys or not when your fortunes are changed, and if you will not grow ashamed that you have been the maiden mother of Turkeys? But we love you, and would bring you to good fortune. Therefore, remember our words of advice, and do not tarry too long."

"I will surely remember, O my Turkeys!" answered the maiden.

Hastily she sped away down the river path toward Zuñi. When she arrived there, she went in at the western side of the town and through one of the long covered ways that lead into the dance court. When she came just inside of the court, behold, every one began to look at her, and many murmurs ran through the crowd,--murmurs of astonishment at her beauty and the richness of her dress,--and the people were all asking one another, "Whence comes this beautiful maiden?"

Not long did she stand there neglected. The chiefs of the dance, all gorgeous in their holiday attire, hastily came to her, and, with apologies for the incompleteness of their arrangements,--though these arrangements were as complete as they possibly could be,--invited her to join the youths and maidens dancing round the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza.

With a blush and a smile and a toss of her hair over her eyes, the maiden stepped into the circle, and the finest youths among the dancers vied with one another for her hand. Her heart became light and her feet merry, and the music sped her breath to rapid coming and going, and the warmth swept over her face, and she danced and danced until the sun sank low in the west.

But, alas! in the excess of her enjoyment, she thought not of her Turkeys, or, if she thought of them, she said to herself, "How is this, that I should go away from the most precious consideration to my flock of gobbling Turkeys? I will stay a while longer, and just before the sun sets I will run back to them, that these people may not see who I am, and that I may have the joy of hearing them talk day after day and wonder who the girl was who joined in their dance."

So the time sped on, and another dance was called, and another, and never a moment did the people let her rest; but they would have her in every dance as they moved around the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza.

At last the sun set, and the dance was well-nigh over, when suddenly breaking away, the girl ran out, and, being swift of foot,--more so than most of the people of her village,--she sped up the river path before any one could follow the course she had taken.

Meantime, as it grew late, the Turkeys began to wonder and wonder that their maiden mother did not return to them. At last a gray old Gobbler mournfully exclaimed, "It is as we might have expected. She has forgotten us; therefore is she not worthy of better things than those she has been accustomed to. Let us go forth to the mountains and endure no more of this irksome captivity, inasmuch as we may no longer think our maiden mother as good and true as once we thought her."

So, calling and calling to one another in loud voices, they trooped out of their cage and ran up toward the Cañon of the Cottonwoods, and then round behind Thunder Mountain, through the Gateway of Zuñi, and so on up the valley.

All breathless, the maiden arrived at the open wicket and looked in. Behold, not a Turkey was there! Trailing them, she ran and she ran up the valley to overtake them; but they were far ahead, and it was only after a long time that she came within the sound of their voices, and then, redoubling her speed, well-nigh overtook them, when she heard them singing this song:

K'yaanaa, to! to!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
Ye ye!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
Yee huli huli!

Hon awen Tsita
Itiwanakwïn
Otakyaan aaa kyaa;
Lesna Akyaaa
Shoya-k'oskwi
Teyäthltokwïn
Hon aawani!

Ye yee huli huli,
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
Huli huli![*]

Up the river, to! to!
Up the river, to! to!
Sing ye ye!
Up the river, to! to!
Up the river, to! to!
Sing ye huli huli!

Oh, our maiden mother
To the middle place
To dance went away;
Therefore as she lingers,
To the Cañon Mesa
And the plains above it
We all run away!

Sing ye ye huli huli,
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
Huli huli!
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
Huli huli!

[*. This, like all the folk-songs, is difficult of translation; and that which is given is only approximate. [Cushing's note.]]

Hearing this, the maiden called to her Turkeys; called and called in vain. They only quickened their steps, spreading their wings to help them along, singing the song over and over until, indeed, they came to the base of the Cañon Mesa, at the borders of the Zuñi Mountains. Then singing once more their song in full chorus, they spread wide their wings, and thlakwa-a-a, thlakwa-a-a, they fluttered away over the plains above.

The poor Turkey girl threw her hands up and looked down at her dress. With dust and sweat, behold! it was changed to what it had been, and she was the same poor Turkey girl that she was before. Weary, grieving, and despairing, she returned to Mátsaki.

Thus it was in the days of the ancients. Therefore, where you see the rocks leading up to the top of Cañon Mesa, there are the tracks of turkeys and other figures to be seen. The latter are the song that the Turkeys sang, graven in the rocks; and all over the plains along the borders of Zuñi Mountains since that day turkeys have been more abundant than in any other place.

After all, the gods dispose of men according as men are fitted; and if the poor be poor in heart and spirit as well as in appearance, how will they be aught but poor to the end of their days?

Thus shortens my story.

Tales of the North American Indians, by Stith Thompson [1929] and is now in the public domain.

CikLa – Chinook

There were five brothers who had one younger sister. When she was grown up the grizzly bear carried her away. One year her brothers did not find her. Then her elder brother went to search for his younger sister. He went some distance and met a pheasant (?). He shot it and hung it on to the branch of a tree. He went on and found a house. He opened the door and saw an old man and a boy inside. He entered. Then the child jumped up and said: "Louse me, uncle!" He took the child and loused it. He found a louse and squeezed it. Immediately the old man bit his neck and cut off his head. Then the old man and the boy carried his body into the woods and hid it. The bear's wife and his daughter had gone digging gamass (camass) at that time.

Now four [brothers] only remained. One day the next eldest went. He also found a pheasant. He shot it and hung it on to the branch of a tree. He went a long distance and found a house. He opened the door and saw in old man and a boy inside. Then he entered. The boy jumped up and said: "Uncle, louse me!" He did so and found a louse. He squeezed it; then the old man bit his neck and cut off his head. Then the old man and the boy carried his body into the woods and hid it. The two women had again gone digging gamass. Then the daughter said to her mother: "Come, let us go home; somebody arrived at our house." The mother replied: "Wait a while." After some time the two women went home. Then the girl smelled blood in the house and knew at once what had happened. She grew angry and struck her father and her brother with a firebrand.

Now three [brothers] only remained. One day the next brother said: "I will go next." He went a long distance and he also found a pheasant. He shot it and hung it on to the branch of a tree. He went on and found a house. He opened the door and found all old man and a boy inside. He entered and shared the fate of his brothers. Then the girl said: "Come, let us go home; somebody arrived at our house." Her mother replied: "Wait a while." Then she said to her: "Have you no relatives? "She replied: "You have five uncles." Then the two women went home. She became angry and struck her father and her brother.

Now it became day and one more made himself ready. He took his arrows and he also went. He went a long distance; then he found a pheasant. He shot it and hung it on to the branch of a tree. He went on and found a house. Then he opened the door and saw an old man and a boy inside. He entered. The boy jumped and said: "Louse me, uncle." He did so and found a louse. He squeezed it. Then the old man bit his neck and cut off his head. Then they carried the body inland and hid it. The girl [who was digging gamass with her mother] said: "Come, let us go home; somebody arrived at our house." But her mother replied: "Wait a while." Then they went home. They opened the door and she smelled the blood. She became angry and struck her father and her brother.

Now one only remained. He cried the whole night. When it became nearly daylight he fell asleep. He dreamt: "When you will go you will meet a pheasant. Do not shoot it. A monster carried away your younger sister and killed all your elder brothers. When you will go you will find a house. Do not enter at once. When you see two persons in there stay at the door." Now it became day. He awoke and continued to cry. Then he took his arrows and went. He went along distance and saw a pheasant. He did not shoot it. He went on and found a house. He opened the door. There was an old man and a boy inside. Then he stayed at the door. He remained there a long time. Then the girl spoke and said to her mother: "Come, let us go home; somebody arrived at our house." Her mother replied: "Let us turn back!" Then they went home. They reached their house and opened the door. Now there was a person. They entered. Then the girl grew angry. In the evening the man said to his younger sister: "All our brothers came here;" and she told her daughter: "All your uncles came here." [The daughter replied: ] "You did not believe me." [Her uncle asked:] "What shall we do with the old man and the boy? Shall we kill them? [She replied:] "Yes; they shall die." Then the man. said: "I will go and get pitchwood." He went and brought pitchwood into the house. Then the old man said: "What do you intend to do with that pitchwood?" "We shall use it to make fire in winter." Now they remained there a long time. [One night] he spoke to the old man a longtime. When it became nearly day [the old man] fell asleep. Then he said to his sister: "Arise! now we will burn them." She arose and left the house. Her daughter also arose and went out. Then be set fire to the pitchwood. He went out. Now the house began to burn. The old man said: "Heh! brother-in-law! Rise! We are going to be burnt." He arose and found that the door was locked. Now he himself and his son were burnt.

Then she searched for her uncles. She found them in the woods and carried them to the water. She blew some water on the bodies. Then they all arose. They went home. They went a long distance and came to a lake. They bathed in the lake. Now the woman [their sister] dived and said: "Shall I dive?" The brothers replied: "Yes, dive!" "Do I look pretty in this lake?" "Yes, you look pretty in the lake." She dived again. "Shall I dive?" "Yes, dive." "Do I look pretty in this lake?" "Yes, you look pretty in the lake." Then she dived again. After she had dived three times hair began to grow on her. She said again: "Do I look pretty in this lake?" "Oh, no! you do not look. pretty in this lake." "Eh, why did you not tell me before?" Now she had dived five times, and she remained always in the lake and became a monster. They took only their niece along. They arrived at their house and stayed there. Now all the people wanted to marry the girl, but the brothers did not give her away. Finally a chief married her and she remained with him.

Now, Blue-Jay was discontented because she never laughed. After a time she said [to her husband]: "I am getting tired. Go far away, then I shall laugh." "No, no, don't laugh!" After some time she said again: "I am getting tired." Then her husband replied: "Well, then laugh now." She said: "I will laugh because Blue-jay makes me tired. Go into the woods! Lie down on your knees and elbows and close your ears." Then early in the morning she went to bathe. She took a comb and combed herself. Then she went out. Now she said: "Where are you, Blue-jay? Now I shall laugh. Hahaheh! Blue-Jay!" Then she devoured all her husband's people. In the afternoon she came to herself and vomited all the bones. She searched for her husband but did not find him. Then she searched for him among the bones of all these people. She found him, but his legs up to the knees were gone. Then she put him into a basket and moved a short distance. She made a house and lived there. After some time she fell sick and gave birth to two boys. When her children became older she said to them: "Do not go there up the river; you must go only down the river." They obeyed. When they became older the elder one said to his brother: "Let us go there [up the river]." One day they went and found the ground strewn with bones of people. "Oh, come, let us go home! "They reached their home and the elder one said: "These poor people! How may they have died?" Now they grew up. One day they bathed; now they missed a comb. The elder one said: "O, brother! Perhaps we shall find a comb in that basket." "Let us take down that basket." Now they took down the basket and took out a mountain-goat blanket. Now they found a person in that basket. [The person said:] "O my children! Your mother is bad. You see me. I am only half now! Quick! Hang me up again, else your mother will come and devour us!" They took their father and hung him up again. In the evening their mother came back. Now the boys were angry. They became young men; then they said to their father: "We will cure you." "Well," he replied. Now they took him and carried him to the river. They put him under water. Then they took their mother and transformed her into a dog.

Now the two young men [who were now called Cikla] traveled on. They came to a lake in which they saw a swan with two heads. "I will shoot that swan." "Oh, don't shoot it. Many monsters are in that lake." He, however, took his arrows and shot the swan. "I will swim across the lake and get it." He threw off his blanket, swam, and took hold of the swan. Then he disappeared under water. His elder brother cried. He picked up stones and made a fire in which he heated the stones. When they were hot he threw them into the lake and made it boil. Then the lake became dry. Then he said: "Oh, how many monsters there are! "Then he took his knife and opened their bellies. When he opened them all he said: "Oh, I cannot find my brother." He cried. Now only one small monster remained. He cut its belly and found his brother who held the swan in his hand. He carried him to the water and blew on him. Then he arose: "Oh, I told you not to swim! [I thought] you would be swallowed!"

They went on. They met a person who held his paddle in his hand and danced. "What are you doing there?" "I catch flounders." [The flounders jumped into his canoe while he was dancing.] "Come here; have you no dipnet?" "I have one." "Bring it here! Step near! Drive the flounders. Stand here! Put your dipnet into the water!" He did so and held the net under water a very long time. "Now lift it." It was nearly full. "Thus people shall always catch flounders."

Now they went on. They met a person who always made waâ'waâ'! "What are you doing?" "I shoot the rain." "Stay here!" Now they took his house, threw it away, and made a good house for him. [1] They said: "Stay here; henceforth people will not shoot the rain."

Then they went on. They found a country. There they bathed. Then they rubbed their arms and made people [of the dirt that they rubbed from their skin]. They blew upon them and they arose.

Now they came to Quinaielt. "Here people shall catch blue-back salmon."

They went on and found a person. [He said:] "I will sharpen my knives. When these people come who make everything good I shall kill them with these knives." Now they met him. "What are you doing, old man?" they said. "I shall kill those who make everything good." "Give me your knife." He gave it. "Give me the other one." He gave it also. "Now put your head sideways." He put his head sideways. Now they fastened one knife to one side of his head. "Put your head to the other side." He did so, and they fastened the other knife to the other side. They fastened two to his head and one to his backside. "Now jump!" they said to him, and he jumped. "Turn round! You shall be called deer. You will not kill man!"

They went on and came to Uq!ô'nexôn. "What are you doing? they said. "I play." Then she took a child at its forearm and threw it into the depth. "Let our dogs fight together," said the two men. She replied: "Oh, their bitch is a monster. She devoured even her husband's people. She will certainly kill my bitch." "What is the name of your bitch," they said. "Her name is Head-eater. What is the name of your bitch?" "Her name is Flint-eater." Now the two dogs fought together and Cikla's bitch cut off the head of Uq!ô'nexôn's bitch. Then one of the young men said to her: "Now throw me down the precipice." He had said to the boys [down below]: "When she throws me down you must say 'Return to the land.'" She took him. Flint pieces stood upright [at the foot of the precipice]. She took him at his forearms. She swung him around five times; then she threw him down. She said to the boys: "Say 'Stay always away from the land.'" He, however, said to the boys: "Say 'Return to the land.'" [When throwing him down Uq!ô'nexôn said:] "Now come these two people, your fathers!" He fell down and lay there [at the foot of the precipice]. He arose whole. He was not hurt. He saw that down below there was a multitude of boys. He took water and blew it on all of them. Then they all arose. He said: "Watch her [when she comes down]." They took stones. He went up and arrived on the top of the rock. Then be said to Uq!ô'nexôn: "O, aunt, look! These people whom you threw down are not dead. I saw them down there. I was there a while. They dance and sing; they play itlukum and disks. Now I shall throw you down." Now he placed his pieces of flint upright. He took her at her hair and swung her around five times. Her belly burst. Now he threw her down. She fell and lay there. Then the boys pelted her with stones and cut her to pieces. Her body was scattered in all directions. Her legs were thrown to Nehelim, her hair was thrown inland, her ribs were thrown up the river [therefore the Nehelim have strong legs, the Cowlitz have long hair, and the tribes of the tipper river have bandy legs].

Footnotes
[1] His house had no roof, and he protected himself by shooting at the rain.

Chinook Texts, by Franz Boas; U.S. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin no. 20; US Government Printing Office; [1894] and is now in the public domain.

Ckulkulô'L – Chinook

There was Ckulkulô'L [the salmon-harpoon] and his elder sister. Once upon a time the latter said to her brother: Do as the other people do and catch steel-head salmon." Now he did so. He made a harpoon. On the day after he had finished it his sister went digging roots. Now he went to catch salmon. He speared a steel-head salmon and went home. When he arrived at home he roasted it and when it was done he said: "I will give the head to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's head. I will give the belly to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's belly. I will give the back to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's back. I will give its tail to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's tail." Now he ate the whole fish. He ate the belly, he ate the back, he ate its tail. Then he lay down to sleep. Now his elder sister came home. Her brother was asleep. She heated stones and roasted the roots. Then she gave them to him to eat.

On the next morning she went again digging roots. After some time her younger brother arose and went to catch salmon. After some time be speared a large steel-head salmon. "Ah, Ckulkulô'L behold! he does not give anything to his sister," said the people. His sister thought: "Oh, they make fun of my poor brother." Now Ckulkulô'L went home. When he arrived he roasted his salmon. It was done. Then he said: "I will give the head to my sister to eat" [etc., three times, as above].

Now she smelled the smell of grease in their house. On the next morning she went again digging roots. Then her brother went again to catch salmon. Again she heard: "How large is Ckulkulô'L's salmon!" "Oh, perhaps they make fun of my poor brother." Then Ckulkulô'L speared a salmon and went home. When he arrived he roasted it. Now its head was done. He said: "I will give the head to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's head. I will give the belly to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's belly. I will give the back to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's back. I will give its tail to my sister to eat. No, else she will get a fish's tail." Now he ate the whole fish. He ate the back; he ate the tail. Then he lay down to sleep. Now his elder sister went home. When she came home she heated stones and roasted her potentilla roots. When they were done she gave them to her younger brother. Now she found some grease in the house. "Oh, indeed! Behold how he acted against me. He never gave me anything to eat." Now she found a salmon-egg in his mouth. She placed it on top of a shelf. Then she gave him the roots. Then she took that salmon egg and gave it to him. "Oh, somebody gave this to me." When he saw it he became afraid. "Look, she found me out." On the next morning she made herself ready and said to her younger brother: "Leave the house." Then he arose. "Your name shall be Humming-Bird. Henceforth you shall not eat steel-head salmon." Then she went away and left him.

She went and went. She went a long distance. Then she saw a house. She entered and roasted ten roots in the ashes of the fire. Then she took a salmon roe and ate it. Then a man arrived who took her and struck her [on the nape]. The salmon roe fell [out of her month]. She was ashamed and went out of the house. She went again a long distance. Then she saw another house. She went and opened the door. The house was full of dried salmon. When she had stayed a little while a steel-head salmon fell down. She took it and put it back. It fell down again. She took it and put it back again. Now she roasted ten roots in the ashes of the fire. She lost two of them. She searched and searched, but did not find them. Now a salmon roe fell down. She took it again and put it back. After some time a man arrived. Then the fire crackled. He said, "Ah." The fire crackled again, and he said once more, "Ah. Heh, why did you not take the food which she offered to you? She took two of your roots and you searched for them in her month. Do you think the man whom you met was a human being? Fish-hawk is the name of that danger." Now she became pregnant. She gave birth to a boy. Now the child cried and the man put it on top of the fire. She gave one jump and took the child. "Ah, why do you put our child into the fire?" "Why do you take it away from the old woman? She will look after it." He continued: "When you gather wood go only this way. Do not go down the river." Now she did so, and gathered wood only above the house. Now one day there was no wood above the house. She had taken it all. Then she went down the river. She found a long stick and broke it. It was red where she had broken it. She broke it again and it bled. Three times she broke it audit bled profusely. She went home. When she opened the door she saw her husband lying there. He had three [deep] wounds. Now her child cried. She blew the fire, but it was extinguished. Then she took her child and left.

After she had gone a long distance she became tired. "I will desert my child," she thought. "I will leave it here." She carried it to a maple and left it. Then she went far away. Now a man was working at a canoe [nearby]. He heard a child crying and searched for it. He found it and carried it to a place near his house. Then he went into the house, and said to his wife: "I found a child. Feign to be pregnant." Thus they deceived their daughter. They said to her: "Your mother begins to be in labor. Perhaps she will give birth to a child." Then their daughter stayed there. But when it was almost morning she fell asleep. Then he fetched the child. [He said to his daughter:] "Arise, your brother has been born." Then his daughter arose. "Ah, my brother," she said. Now, the boy grew up, and [his father] made arrows for him. He went about following his sister. She was bad and said: "You are not my brother. My father found you. You are the salmon spear's son." Then her brother became angry. When they came home, he said: "She always says the salmon-spear is my father." Her father said: "Naxaxâ'x, why do you always say so to your brother? "He took a stick and whipped her. Now the boy became tired [of her teasing and thought]: "I will kill her." On the next morning they went again. Then he shot her several times and she was dead. He left her, but when he turned round she followed him again. Now he became a youth. One day he dreamt: "If you want to kill her, you must break her finger. Then a round thing will jump out of it, and that you must squeeze to pieces. Then she will die. She will say: 'Kill me!'" On the next morning they went again. Then he killed her at a stone. He cut her finger and a round thing jumped out of it. He squeezed it and she said: "Kill me" [but he squeezed the round thing to pieces]. Now she was dead and he left her.

He went a long distance. Now he [assumed the shape of] a spotted dog. He came to a place where there were many women. They said: "See, how pretty is that dog. Let us take him! "They called him often, but he did not allow himself to be taken. Now only their chieftainess [had not tried]. They said: "Now you call the dog." She called him. He went to her and she took him. Then the women went home. They said: "Oh, we found a dog; our chieftainess took him." Then Blue-Jay said: "I will go to see him." He entered her house and saw the dog. He took a bone and offered it to him, but he did not eat it. Then he struck him. [The chieftainess said:] "Let my dog go; you will kill him." Then Blue-Jay went home and said to his elder brother: "Robin, that is a man and not a dog." "Oh, be quiet, do you think you alone can see?" "Ha, he is the elder one, and he ought to know everything sooner than I," retorted Blue-Jay. After about three days Blue-Jay went again. He entered the house and saw the dog eating gamass. Then Blue-Jay took a stick and struck him. "O, my poor dog," said that woman. Then Blue-Jay went home and said to his elder brother: "He is a man, Robin, he eats gamass." When it got dark the dog said to his wife: "Blue-Jay makes me tired. He will break my bones. I shall throw away my dog-skin blanket." At night he threw it away. When it got day again he had another blanket. Now Blue Jay came in. [When he saw him, he said:] "Eh, I said he was a man and Robin would not believe me." Now he remained there.

Chinook Texts, by Franz Boas; U.S. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin no. 20; US Government Printing Office; [1894] and is now in the public domain.

Chumash Myths

In addition to the commonly shared belief in a Great Spirit which created The universe and everything, the Chumash believed the world was divided in three layers on three floating disks; the Sky World, the Middle World (where they lived), and the Water World.

They believed Sky World was supported by the Great Eagle who always remaining in the same place, only occasionally stretching its wings, which cause the phases of the moon and lunar eclipses.

The Middle World was believed held in place by a giant serpent which would sometimes move, causing earthquakes.

They believed the Water World to be made from the urine of the many frogs who lived in it.

The Sun God, is believed to have carried a torch made of tightly rolled bark which he used to illuminate the world. He creates the night sky by whipping the sparks off his torch; by day, the Sun sits in a hole in the ground which was created for him by the Spider Woman.

The Chumash had specific representations for each of the four seasons.

Winter was represented by the color white, the Eagle, a symbol of man's strength and pride, and the Bear, representing Mother Earth. Winter was also indicated by the North, from which the cold winds blew. For the Chumash, winter also meant renewal, as they celebrated Winter Solstice and the beginning of the new year.

Summer was represented by the color blue, as in the ocean's waves, and by the Owl, a creature of wisdom and intelligence, and the Snake, which pressed its belly against Mother Earth, showing its sensitivity. The summer was indicated by the South, from which the warm ocean breeze blew.

Spring was represented by the color yellow, and by the Hawk, believed to have brought back the sun on its tail, and by the Deer, which symbolized life, for every part of the animal was used by the Chumash as food and clothing. Spring came from the East, as this is where one would see the sunrise.

Fall was represented by the color red, and by the Dolphin; the sea-dwelling brother of the Chumash, and by the Raven, who served as messenger. The Fall was indicated by the West, for it is there one can see the sunset.

http://www.indianlegend.com/chumash/chumash_002.htm

Chumash Indians Creation Myth - Chumash

The Chumash myth tells of a great deluge which engulfed the earth, taking with it all living things save for the Spotted Woodpecker, the nephew of Kaqunupenawa, the Sun God.

Spotted Woodpecker survived the flood by perching itself atop the tallest tree in the world, but as he saw the water rise all the way to his feet, he cried out for his uncle's help. "Save me, I'm drowning! - he cried. The Sun God's daughters heard him and told Kaqunupenawa that his nephew was dying of cold and hunger. The Sun God lowered his torch, the one he used to light the world and create the stars, and he warmed the Spotted Woodpecker with its heat. He then tossed two acorns in the water at his feet, so that he would be able to pick them up and eat them. The Sun God fed more acorns to the Spotted Woodpecker, which now explains why they are its favorite food.

After the flood, the Sun God, Morning Star, the Moon, and Slo'w the Great Eagle were discussing the creation of new people to populate the earth with the Sky Coyote, trying to decide on their appearance. The Great Eagle and the Sky Coyote argued whether the humans should have hands like the the Sky Coyote's, who believed that the new people should be made in his image. He won the argument, and the next day, all gathered around a white rock so that Sky Coyote could press his hand into it to make his hand print, but the Lizard, who had been a silent observer at the proceedings leapt forward and pressed his own hand onto the rock. Lizard escaped the furious Sky Coyote, and the Sun and the Eagle approved of the hand print and this is why human hands are somewhat shaped like the Lizard's.

The first people were created from the seeds planted on Limuw (Santa Cruz Island) by Hutash, the Earth Goddess. Hutash was married to the Sky Snake (The Milky Way), who made lightning with his tongue and gave the people their first fire. The people kept the fire burning to stay warm and cook their food. Since the people were getting more comfortable, their population grew until the Island became too crowded.

They also made so much noise that Hutash could not get any sleep, so she decided it was time to allow some of the people to cross over to the mainland. Hutash made Wishtoyo, a Rainbow Bridge which extended from the tallest peak of the Island to the tallest inland mountain near Carpinteria. She told the people to cross carefully, and to never look down, but some did, and fell off the Rainbow Bridge and into the ocean, where they were turned into dolphins by Hutash to prevent them from drowning. This is why the Chumash Indians consider the dolphins to be their brothers. The Chumash honor Hutash every September with a great Harvest Festival named after her.

http://www.indianlegend.com/chumash/chumash_001.htm

Chumash Tribe – Chumash

Chumashan Family. A linguistic family on the coast of south California, known also as Santa Barbara Indians. Like most Californian aborigines, they appear to have lacked an appellation of general significance, and the term Chumash, the name of the Santa Rosa islanders, is arbitrarily chosen for convenience to designate the linguistic stock. Seven dialects of this family are known, those of San Luis Obispo, Purísima, Santa Inez, Santa Barbara, and San Buenaventura missions, and of Santa Rosa and Santa Cruz islands. These are fairly similar except the San Luis Obispo, which stands apart. It is probable that there were other dialects. The Chumashan languages show certain morphologic resemblances to the adjacent Shoshonean and Salinan, especially the latter, but constitute an independent family, as their stock of words is confined to themselves. The territorial limits of the Chumashan Indians are not accurately known. The area shown on Powell's map (7th Rep. B. A. E., 1891) includes the entire Santa Maria river drainage, Santa Inez river, the lower half of the Santa Clara river drainage, and Somis creek, the east boundary line on the coast lying between Pt Dame and Santa Monica. Since the language of San Luis Obispo was Chumashan, this region north of the Santa Maria and south of the Salinas drainage must be added. The northern of the Santa Barbara Islands (Santa Cruz, Santa Rosa, and San Miguel) were inhabited by the Chumash, but the 3 southern islands of the group belonged to Shoshonean people.

The Chumashan Indians, both of the islands and of the coast, were visited by Europeans as early as 1542, when Cabrillo spent some time in their territory, meeting with an exceedingly friendly reception. Vizcayno in 1602 and Portola in 1769 also came in contact with them, and have left accounts of their visits. Five missions were established by the Franciscans among the Chumash; those of San Luis Obispo, San Buenaventura, Santa Barbara, Purísima, and Santa Inez, founded respectively in 1771, 1782, 1786, 1787, and 1804, the missionaries meeting with little opposition and no forcible resistance. The early friendship for the Spaniards soon changed to a sullen hatred under their rule, for in 1810 it was reported by a missionary that nearly all the Indian women at Purísima had for a time persistently practiced abortion, and in 1824 the Indians at Santa Barbara, Santa Inez, and Purísima revolted against the mission authority, which they succeeded in shaking off for a time though the Spaniards apparently suffered no loss of life at their hands. Even during mission times the Chumash decreased greatly in numbers, and in 1884 Henshaw found only about 40 individuals. This number has been reduced to less than half, the few survivors being largely "Mexicanized," and the race is extinct on the islands.

In character and habits the Chumash differed considerably from the other Indians of California. All the early voyagers note their friendliness and hospitality, and their greater affluence and abundance of foal as compared with their neighbors. They appear to have had a plentiful supply of sea food and to have depended on it rather than on the vegetal products which usually formed the subsistence of California Indians. With the islanders this was no doubt a necessity. Their houses were of grass or tale, dome-shaped, and often 50 ft. or more in diameter, accommodating as many as 50 people. Each was inhabited by several families, and they were grouped in villages. The Chumash were noted for their canoes, which were not dug out of a single log, but made of planks lashed together and calked. Most were built for only 2 or 3 men, but some carried 10 and even 13 persons. As no canoes were found anywhere else on the coast from C. San Lucas to C. Mendocino, even where suitable wood is abundant, rafts or tule balsas taking their place, the well-built canoes of the Chumash are evidence of some ethnographic specialization. The same may be said of their carved wooden dishes and of the figures painted on posts, described as erected over graves and at places of worship. On the Santa Barbara islands stone killer-whale figurines have been found, though almost nowhere else in California are there traces of even attempted sculpture. An unusual variety of shell ornaments and of work in shell inlaid by means of asphaltum also characterize the archeologic discoveries made in Chumashan territory. Large stone jars similar to those in use among the neighboring Shoshoneans, and coiled baskets somewhat similar to those of their southern neighbors, were made by the Chumash. Their general culture has been extensively treated by Putnam (Wheeler, Survey Rep., vii,1879). Of their religion very little is known, and nothing of their mythology. The gentile system was not recognized by them, marriage between individuals of the same village being allowed. On Santa Catalina island birds which were called large crows by the Spaniards were kept and worshiped, agreeing with what Boscana tells of the Shoshonean condor cult of the adjacent coast. The medicine men of one of the islands are said to have used stone pipes for smoking, sucking, and blowing to remove disease, dressing in a hair wig, with a belt of deer hoofs. This practice was similar to that which prevailed through Lower California. The dead among the Chumash were buried, not burned as in many other parts of California; property was hung on poles over their graves, and for chiefs painted planks were erected. The Franciscan missionaries, however, rightly declare that these Indians, like all others In California, were not idolaters.

True tribal divisions were unknown to the Chumash as to most other Indians of California, the only basis of social organization being the family, and of political, the village settlement. The names of village sites are given in great number from the time of the earliest voyage in the 16th century, but the majority can neither he located nor identified. The following is a list of the villages, most of the names being taken from the mission archives:

Santa Inez Mission:
Achillimo, Aguama, Ahuamhoue, Akachumas, Akaitsuk, Alahulapgas, Alizway, Asiuhuil, Awashlaurk, Calahuasa, Cascel, Cholicus, Chumuchu, Coloc, Geguep, Guaislac, Huhunata, Hunawurp, lalamne, Ionata, Jonatas, Kalak, Kalawashuk, Katahuac, Kulahuasa, Kuyam, Matiliha, Mekewe, Mishtapawa, Nipoma, Nutonto, Sapelek, Saptuui, Sauchu, Shopeshno, Sikitipuc, Sisuchi, Situchi, Sotonoemu, Souscoc, Stucu, Suiesia, Suktanakamu, Tahijuas, Takuyumam, Talaxano, Tapanissilac, Tarkepsi, Tekep, Temesathi, Tequepis, Tinachi, Tsamala, Tujanisuissilac.

San. Miguel Island:
Nimollollo, Zaco.

Santa Rosa Island:
Kshiwukciwu, Lilibeque, Muoc, Ninumu, Níquesesquelua, Niquipos, Patiquilid, Patiquiu, Pilidquay, Pisqueno, Poele, Siliwihi.

Santa Cruz Island:
Alali, Chalosas, Chosho, Coycoy, Estocoloco, Hahas, Hitschowon, Klakaamu, Lacayamu, Liyam, Macamo, Mashcal, Mishumac, Nanahuani, Niakla, Nichochi, Nilalhuyu, Nimatlala, Nimitapal, Nitel, Nomkolkol, Sasuagel, Xugua.

San Buenaventura Mission:
Aguin, Alloc, Anacbuc, Chihucchihui, Chumpache, Eshulup, Kachyayakuch, Kanwaiakaku, Kinapuke, Lacayamu, Liam, Lisichi, Lojos, Luupsch, Mahow, Malahue, Malico, Matilhja, Miguihui, Miscanaka, Piiru, Sespe, Shishalap, Simi. Sisa, Sisjulcioy, Sissabanonase, Soma, Tapo, Ypuc, Yxaulo.

Purísima Mission:
Alacupusyuen, Ausion, Esmischue, Esnispele, Espiiluima, Estait, Fax, Guaslaique, Huasna, Huenejel, Huenepel, Husistaic, Ialatnma, Jlaacs, Kachisupal, Lajuchu, Lipook, Lisahuats, Lompoc, Nahuey, Naila, Ninyuelgual, Nocto, Omaxtux Pacsiol, Paxpili, Sacsiol, Sacspili, Salachi, Sihimi, Silimastus, Silimi, Silino, Silisne, Sipuca, Sisolop, Sitolo, Stipu, Suntaho, Tutachro.

Santa Barbara Mission: Alcax, Alican, Alpincha, Alwathalama, Amolomol, Anejue, Awhawhilashmu, Cajats, Cajpilili, Casalic, Cashwah, Chiuchin, Cholosoc, Chuah, Cinihuay, Cuyamus, Eleunaxciay, Eljman, Eluaxcu, Estuc, Geliac, Gleuaxcuqu, Guainonost, Guina, Hanava, Hello, Huelemin, Huililoc, Huixapapa, Humalija, Hunxapa, Inajalaihu, Inojey, Ipec, Ituc, Lagcay, Laycayamu, Lintja, Lisuchu, Lugups, Majalayghua, Mishtapalwa, Mistaughchewaugh, Numguelgar, Otenashmoo, Salpilel, Sayokinck, Sihuicom, Silpoponemew, Sinicon, Sisahiahut, Sisuch, Snihuax, Sopone, Taxlipu, Texmaw, Xalanaj, Xalou.

Miscellaneous:
Anacoat, Anacot, Antap, Aogni, Asimu, Bis, Caacat, Casnahacmo, Casunalmo, Cayeguas, Chwaiyok, Cicacut, Ciucut, Ciyuktun, Elquis, Escumawash, Garomisopona, Gun, Helapoonuch, Honmoyaushu, Hueneme, Humkak, Immahal, Isha, Ishgua, Kamulas, Kasaktikat, Kashiwe, Kashtok, Kashtu, Kaso, Katstayot, Kaughii, Kesmali, Koiyo, Kuiyamu, Lohastahni, Mahahal, Malhokshe, Malito, Malulowoni, Maquinanoa, Masewuk, Mershom, Michiyu, Micoma, Misesopano, Mishapsna, Misinagua, Mismatuk, Mispu, Mugu, Mupu, Nacbue, Nipomo, Nocos, Ojai, Olesino, Onkot, Onomio, Opia, Opistopia, Paltatre, Partocac, Potoltuc, Pualnacatup, Quanmugua, Quelqueme, Quiman, Salnahakaisiku, Sapaquonil, Saticoy, Satwiwa, Shalawa, Shalkahaan, Shisblaman, Sholikuwewich, Shuku, Shup, Shushuchi, Shuwalashu, Simomo, Sisichii, Sitaptapa, Siuktun, Skonon, Spookow, Sulapiu, Susuquey, Sweteti, Swino, Tallapoolina, Temeteti, Tocane, Topotopow, Tukachkach, Tushumu, Upop, Walektre, Wihatset, Xabaagua, Xagua, Xocotoc, Yutum. Chumash.

Chumash. The Santa Rosa islanders, o the Chumashan family of California.  Bowers in Smithson. Rep., 3`6, 1877

Handbook of American Indians (1906) ~ Frederick W. Hodge