Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 3)

J >> James Athearn Jones >> Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 3)

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II. SAKECHAK, THE HUNTER.

There was, in the land of the Caddos, a good and devout hunter and
fisherman, named Sakechak, or "he that tricks the otter." He dwelt
with his family upon the little hill Wecheganawaw, on the border of
the lake Caddoque. He was a tall man, spare in flesh, but very active,
and able to endure more fatigue than the wolf or the wild cat--able to
live six days without food, and feast the next six days without
intermission. None had eyes like Sakechak to follow the trail of a
light-footed animal over the frozen earth; none like him could strike,
unerringly, a salmon at twice the depth of a man. Nor was this hunter
without the qualities of a warrior. When the Padoucas came, with
hostile intent, to the borders of the lake Caddoque; among those who
first took down the spear, and braided the scalp-lock, was Sakechak,
the hunter of the little hill Wecheganawaw. He it was who first
sounded the war-whoop; he it was who took the first Padouca scalp; he
it was who pursued farthest the retreating enemy, and he who returned
from the weary pursuit to dance longest the dance of Triumph. And
Sakechak was as wise as brave, and as good as wise. Never was he
caught suffering his feelings to escape from his controul or
management; his word was esteemed in the council as the word of
wisdom; his warning of danger was regarded as the cry of the owl.
Never did he mock the wretched, or laugh, or scoff at the insane; he
was always respectful to the aged; and he daily cried to the Master of
Life, from the high grounds, with clay spread thick upon his hair, and
at every successful hunt offered, to the same Great Judge and
protecting guide of man, the best part of the animals he had caught.
That Great Being regarded him with more love than he regards other
mortals, and showed it by many signs. The fish he speared were always
fatter than those taken by other hunters; the deer that lay at the
foot of the wife of Sakechak could not be lifted like other men's by a
mere boy. The thunder that shattered, and the wind that prostrated,
the forest-trees in other places were never known to do the like by
the tall oaks that sheltered the hill Wecheganawaw. The corn of this
good hunter came out of the ground two suns sooner than other men's,
and the tobacco in his garden was ripe, yellow, and fit for use, while
that of his neighbours was green, and food for the worm. The
Caddoques, and the other Indians, might have seen enough of the
rewards bestowed upon goodness, in the person of Sakechak, to have
made them leave off their wickedness. But no, they kept on sinning,
until the Great Being deemed them unfit longer to live upon the earth
which he had created for their use.

Once upon a time, as Sakechak was about to rest his limbs for the
period of darkness, he felt the stirring of the ant which lay under
the skin of his left hand, and, binding over his eyes the hide of the
young badger, he laid his head upon a bundle of the leaves of the
black hornbeam, and slept as soon as possible[A]. His dream was
strange and wonderful, and it was accomplished. He saw the Master of
Life, being the first Caddoque who had ever seen him. He was a very
tall and big man, shaped like an Indian in all save his hands, which
were each a sharp spear of terrible proportions, and his tongue was an
immense arrow. His eyes were bright as the sun, and each much larger;
his hair was very long, and swept the earth, and he wore a great white
hat[B]. Each of his feet was larger than the lake Caddoque. He spoke
to the dreamer in his lowest whisper, which, nevertheless, was louder
than the loudest thunder, and his words were these:--

[Footnote A: See this superstition in the last tale.]

[Footnote B: The Indians always give a corporeal form to the Supreme
Being, and, in every instance that I have heard of, when supposing him
to have a human form, imagine him with some kind of covering upon his
head. Since their introduction to the white people, they have
invariably supposed this covering to be a hat.]

"Sakechak!"

The hunter replied, "I hear."

"The world is getting very wicked, Sakechak."

"I know it," answered the hunter.

"I hear no longer the voices of men supplicating me for
favours--soliciting my lightnings to cool the air, nor my rains to
refresh the earth, nor my suns to ripen the harvest. They no longer
thank me for the fat bears, and mooses, and deer, and bisons, which I
send to their hunting-grounds, nor the salmon, and other juicy fish,
which I bid to their waters, nor the corn which I command to grow tall
and sweet for their use, nor the rich grapes which I make to bow their
vines to the earth. I must sweep, and wash, and purify, the earth; I
must destroy all living creatures from off the face of it."

Then Sakechak said, "What have I done, Master of Life! that I should
be involved in this general destruction? Have I not offered thee the
best of my spoils?--Have I ever neglected to solicit thy favour upon
my labours, or to thank thee for the rich gifts thou hast showered
upon me and my family--health, plenty, and cheerful hearts?"

The Master answered, "No, Sakechak, thou hast indeed been a good
servant; it hath never been my purpose to destroy thee; I will except
thee from the general doom: but I will thee to assist in the
destruction of thy brethren. Listen!

"Go now, and cut thee a young hemlock, from the spot which my
lightnings struck in the last Fever-Moon. Let it be not more than ten
seasons old--straight, well-grown, a finely-proportioned trunk, with
thriving branches, full of cones, and with leaves of dark green. Knock
off the cones, and bring them, together with the trunk and leaves, to
the bottom of the hill Wecheganawaw, when the sun of the morning is
tinging the eastern clouds with his brightness. Burn them in a fire
made of the dry branches of the oak, kindled with the straw of the
wild rice. When the heap is completely reduced to ashes, take the
ashes, and strew them in a circle around the hill Wecheganawaw.
Nothing need be gathered within the circle of the hill, for the living
creatures will, of themselves, retreat to it for safety; and, when
this is done, take the trunk of the hemlock, divested of its branches,
and strike it into the earth, at the spot where the large tuft of
green grass is seen growing on the dry and barren hill. There lies the
great fountain of the waters; and when the staff is struck into the
earth, the fountain shall burst forth, and the earth be swept, and
washed, and purified, by the great deluge that shall overwhelm it.
Sakechak and his family shall alone, of all the inhabitants of the
earth, be saved, and the creatures he assembles around him on the
little hill Wecheganawaw be alone those exempted from the all-sweeping
destruction."

So saying, the Great Being retreated from the vision of the sleeping
hunter, who awoke with the dream fixed on his mind, and, in obedience
to the orders he had received, prepared to do his part towards its
accomplishment. He went to the spot which the Master had pointed
out--the place which the lightnings had stricken in the last
Fever-Moon--and he cut from the grove of hemlocks a young tree, full
of cones, with a finely shaped trunk, and with thriving branches and
dark green leaves. This trunk, with the leaves, he brought to the hill
Wecheganawaw, when the sun of the morning was tinging the eastern
clouds with his brightness. He burnt them all, save the trunk, in a
fire made of the dry branches of the oak, kindled with the straw of
the wild rice. When the heap was completely reduced to ashes,
he took the ashes and strewed them in a circle around the hill
Wecheganawaw.--Then he took the staff, or trunk of the hemlock
divested of its branches, and struck it deep into the earth, at the
spot on the hill where the large tuft of green grass sprung up amidst
barrenness. When he did so, the great fountain was broken up, and the
waters burst out in a mighty volume. Slowly and gradually the element
began to cover the earth, while the hunter and his family looked on.
Now the low grounds appeared but as they appear in the season of
showers, here a little water, and there a little water; soon they
became one vast sheet. Now a little hill sunk from view, then the tops
of the trees disappeared; again a tall hill was observed to be hiding
its summits in the overmastering water. At length the waves rose so
high that Sakechak could see nothing more: he stood as it were in a
well. The waters were piled up on every side of him, restrained from
harming him, or his, by the magic belt of hemlock ashes. While the
waters had been rising, the animals in the vicinity of the hill had
been running to it for shelter; and there now stood gathered around
him a pair of each of the different species of animals.

"Sakechak!" said a voice, which the hunter knew to be that of him he
had heard in his sleep.

The hunter answered, "I hear."

"When the Moon is exactly over thy head, Sakechak, she will draw the
waters on to the hill Wecheganawaw. She is angry with me because I
flogged a comet to whom she had taken a liking, and wishes to be
revenged on me. I cannot prevent that unless I destroy her, which I
cannot do, for she is my wife, and bore me many sons, which are the
stars thou seest, and she is besides necessary to the existence of the
world, which shall re-appear swept, and washed, and purified, for the
use of thee and thy descendants. Sakechak!"

The hunter answered, "I hear."

"Bid every living creature which is on the hill take off the nail from
the little finger of his right hand, if a man; if a bird, or beast, of
the right foot or claw. When each has done this, bid him blow in the
hollow of the nail with the right eye shut, pronouncing these
words--'_Shake Tebe skahpeshim ose_,' that is, 'Nail become a canoe,
and save me from the wrath of the moon.' The nail so besought will
become a large canoe, and in this canoe will its owner be safe."

The Master of Life ceased speaking, and the hunter rose to see that
his commands were obeyed, both by his family and the beasts. Soon was
each supplied with a vehicle of safety, by the side of which he stood
as the influence of the mother of the stars caused the waters to flow
in upon the hill Wecheganawaw. The canoes rose buoyant upon the element,
and soon floated upon the surface of the waters which covered the
face of the earth. That they might not be dispersed Sakechak caused
them all to be bound together by thongs of buffalo-skin.

They continued floating for a long time upon the surface of the
waters, till at last Sakechak said, "This will not do--we must have
land. Go," said he, to a raven which sat in her canoe near him, "and
fetch me a little earth from the bottom of the abyss. I will send a
woman, because the eyes of a woman are so curious, and searching, and
inquisitive, that if it is wished to find anything hidden in utter
darkness, and lost to all else, a woman will be sure to find it before
you have counted your fingers over twice."

The raven, proud of the praise bestowed on her sex, answered, that she
had no objection to undertake the commission. So, leaving her
tail-feathers at home, she dived into the abyss. She was gone a long
time, but, notwithstanding her being a woman, she returned baffled of
her object. Whereupon Sakechak said to the otter, "My little man, I
will send you to the bottom, and see if your industry and perseverance
will enable you to accomplish what has been left undone by the wit and
cunning of the raven." So the otter departed upon his dangerous
expedition.

He accomplished its object. When he again appeared on the earth, he
held in his paw a lump of black mud, as large as the tip of the thumb
of a full-grown man. This he gave into the hands of Sakechak. But the
hunter of the hill Wecheganawaw was without the wisdom which would
make the mud avail to the re-production of the world. He fell on his
knees, and besought the Great Master of all to endow him with the
knowledge which should lead to the re-establishment of things as they
were before the deluge. The Master answered not; but his intentions to
communicate his wishes to the good hunter were made known by the ant.
So Sakechak slept and dreamed, and this was his dream:--

He saw again the Great Master, who bade him divide the lump of mud
into five portions. The central portion--that which came out of the
middle of the lump--he was commanded to take into the hollow of his
hand, to wet with spittle, and to mould into a cake, a little highest
in the middle, and flattened all around the edges. He was commanded,
when he had done this, to blow a bubble upon the water, and set the
little cake afloat in the bubble; with these words:--_I-yah
ask-ke_--"I make an earth." He was not to suffer the little world to
break away, but was to attach it to his canoe by a string formed of
the sinews of the mud-turtle. As it increased in size, he was to strew
upon it the remaining portions of mud, which he was enjoined to be
very careful to crumble fine, and rub thoroughly to dust. The voice
told him, that in less than three moons the lump would be so swelled
that he might disembark upon it, he and all the creatures that were
with him.

Sakechak did as the voice of the Master bade him. He divided the lump
into five portions, and that which came out of the middle of the lump
he moulded into a cake, a little highest in the middle, and flattened
all around the edges. He blew the bubble upon the water, and he set
the cake afloat in the bubble, having first fastened it to his canoe
with a string formed of the sinews of the mud-turtle. As it increased
in size, he strewed upon it a part of the remaining portions of the
lump, first crumbling them very fine, and rubbing them thoroughly into
dust. The wind, which was high at the time, blew the yellow dust,
which was lightest, into his eyes, and thence the eyes of the Indian
have always been tinged with yellow. The little cake increased rapidly
in size. One day, as Sakechak had taken up the third portion of the
mud to prepare it, by crumbling and rubbing, for strewing upon the
earth, his wife discovered a star--the first which had been seen since
the breaking up of the fountain. The loud shout of joy which burst
from her, and her cry "A star! a star!" so discomposed Sakechak, that
he forget what he was about, and threw down the lumps, unrubbed or
uncrumbled. This carelessness occasioned the unevenness of the earth;
the mountains and the rocks which are now found upon it are the lumps
which he threw down unrubbed. He, however, strewed upon it the
remaining portion, which is the reason why rocks are found so far
below the surface. And the earth, so formed from the mud brought up by
the otter, grew so fast that, upon the seventh sun of the third moon,
the hunter Sakechak, and his family, and all the beasts, birds, and
other living things which were with him, left their canoes for the dry
and stable earth, which thenceforth became, and has since continued,
their residence.

Upon the earth thus created trees soon sprung up; but they were only
trunks destitute of branches. But the wit of Sakechak soon gave them
what they wanted. He shot arrows into the trunks, and these became
branches, and took the nature of the trunks. Each became an oak, or a
pine, or a tulip, or a sweet gum, following the nature of the trunks.
Many seasons passed away, however, before the hills were all clothed
with trees, or the dense cloud of leaves hid the bosom of the valleys.

The earth was re-peopled from the loins of Sakechak; from him, from
one family of Caddos, are all men descended. No matter whither they
have been carried; whether they have covered their tent with leaves
beneath the warm sky of the south, or built it of ice, where the earth
never thaws; whether they are red like myself, or white like the wise
man at whose bidding we are gathered together; they are descended from
one man, the hunter Sakechak, of the hill Wecheganawaw.

III. THE BIRD OF AGES.

The waters were spread over the face of the earth; there was nothing
to be seen but one vast and entire ocean, save the mighty Bird of
Ages, which had lived from the beginning of time, whose eyes were
fire, whose glances were lightning, and the clapping of whose wings
was thunder. He had lived long in the skies above the stars; but, when
he heard the rushing and dashing about of the waters, he descended
from his seat to the ocean, and touching it, the earth instantly rose,
and remained on the surface of the water. It rose of its present size,
covered with verdure, as the low grounds which have been flooded by
winter rains are green when these rains are withdrawn from them. The
mountains, then as now, towered to the skies, and the valleys were
deep, and the rivers rushed impetuously over the steeps which
attempted to impede their course. Winters locked up a portion of the
earth, and the summer suns beamed fiercely and intensely upon another
portion. The stars shone by day, and the beams of the moon gladdened
the hours of darkness. Winds swept the vast expanse of ocean, and a
part of the time was calm as a part of the time is now. The world
was very like what it is at this day, save that, within its mighty
boundaries, over all its far limits, neither on mountain, hill,
valley, tree, nor bush, in den nor burrow, in water nor air, dwelt a
living creature. No gentle song of bird arose to break the stillness
of morning, no cry of wild beast to disturb the unbroken hush of
midnight; the noise of the winds chasing each other over the vast
waste was all that was heard breaking the monotonous repose of the
earth.

"This will not do," said the bird, talking to himself; "here is a fine
world and nobody to occupy it. Here are stars, beautiful as anything
can be; a moon, that sheds her mild light on--what?--and a sun so
bright that not even the Bird of Ages can look steadily on his
beams--with that bird alone to behold him or them. How balmy is the
air which I feel fanning my feathers!--but it cannot breathe to revive
the human heart after sickness or toil, or gladden the spirit of the
beast which lies panting in the shade from excessive heat. It is lost,
wasted, and so are the beams of the sun, the moon, and the stars; and
so are the sweet fruits that grow spontaneously about the earth, and
the beautiful flowers that waste their fragrance on the desert air.
This must not be," repeated the Bird.

So he flew up to the highest pinnacle of the Mountain of the Thunders,
and there fell to musing, the while scratching the side of his head
with his mighty claw. At last he bethought himself of a spell or
charm, which was taught him by his father, who lived before time was,
and survived its commencement many ages. He recollected that this
venerable and wise bird, who did not die till his claws were rotted
off, and his feathers all dispersed to the winds, told him that if one
of his descendants were to eat nothing for seven days, and to quench
his thirst with the dew which should lie upon the mountain-laurel, he
would enjoy the power to accomplish that which ought to be done.
"Nothing can be clearer," said the Bird of Ages to himself, "than that
the world ought to be inhabited. Now I, by fasting seven days, and
quenching my thirst with the dew of the mountain-laurel alone, shall,
according to the word of my father, be enabled to see this earth
tenanted by beautiful creatures; the seeds, which now lie dormant in
the earth, will spring up to furnish food for innumerable creatures,
and those innumerable creatures will enjoy the bounties spread out in
such profusion before them! How delightful it will be to see and hear
the birds of soft notes and splendid plumage, singing and hopping
about on bush and tree; and the kid, and the fawn, and the lamb,
gambolling on the sunny hill-side, and the fishes disporting in their
own element; and Man, the lord of all, painted on his cheek and brow
with the ochre of wrath, and wearing the gallant scalp-lock, decked
with the plumes of the eagle; and to hear his cry of battle, rising
from the gathering place of warriors, and to mark the pole of red
scalps, and better yet the resolution of the captive, when the
torments are inflicted upon him, when the pincers tear his flesh, when
the hot stones sear his eye-balls. All these pleasures will delight
the eyes and ears of those who shall live on this beautiful world,
when I shall have done what I conceive ought to have been done."

So he commenced his fast. Seven days he ate no food, and quenched his
thirst with only the dew which lay upon the mountain-laurel. Upon the
morning of the eighth day he began his task. "There ought to be a vast
number of fishes," said he, "and of different sizes, for each must
feed upon the other and smaller." So he called into existence all the
fishes that people the waters. Then he said to the quadrupeds and
four-footed beasts, to worms and snakes, and every thing else which
are not fishes, "Be, for you ought to be;" and they were. So the earth
became peopled and inhabited. All were called into existence then,
and in that manner, except the Chepewyans, and they had their origin
ages after, from the loins of a dog; which was performed thus:

There was among the Crees a man, whose upper lip was split, displaying
the upper teeth to every one that saw him; he was not a courageous
man, but feared every thing in the shape of danger; even the cry of
beasts and the singing of birds, and the growl of the bear, and the
song of the bittern, alarmed him. He was very fond of dogs, and
possessed the power of transforming them into the shape of men, though
he was without the power to make them continue in that shape for a
longer period than that between sun and sun. He could make a wolf-dog
step into the form of a handsome hunter; he could clothe an old cur
with the skin of a very wise _powwow_. After his charm was spoken over
a spaniel sneaking with his tail between his legs, you would see, in
his stead, a white man doing the very same mean act of cowardice, with
his back upon his enemy. A hoity-toity little she-puppy would become
in a twinkling a very pretty girl; and an ugly old snarling she-wolf,
a crabbed and sour old squaw. But, when the sun arose, the handsome
hunter became again the wolf-dog; and the very wise powwow, the old
cur; and the white man running from his enemy, the spaniel sneaking
off with his tail between his legs; and the very pretty girl, the
hoity-toity little she-puppy; and the crabbed and sour old squaw, the
ugly and snarling old she wolf-dog. He would have been very glad to
have made them retain the form of human beings, but he possessed not
the power. At last, he bethought himself of the mighty Bird of Ages,
who dwelt among the lofty peaks of the Mountain of Thunders. To this
bird he repaired, and telling him what he had come for, he received
the command to go to the Lake of the Woods, and bring thence a flat,
white stone, which lay upon the southern shore of that lake. It
possessed, the mighty Bird said, the power to enable almost any thing
to be done which should be asked of it by men of the Cree nation; by
the great ancestor of which it had been endued with its present power.

The man did as he was bidden. He went to the southern shore of the
Lake of the Woods, and brought away the great white _memahoppa_, or
medicine-stone, which has ever since remained with the Crees. Having
placed this stone in the corner of his cabin, and addressed it as his
tutelar deity, he proceeded to make the transformation of a fine,
handsome, courageous, young dog into the shape of a man. When this was
effected, he led the man to the memahoppa, and first praying the
sacred stone to protect him against the power of change, he placed the
man upon it. The charm was effective. The wonderful properties of the
medicine-stone operated to keep the man a man. And this man married a
woman of the Crees, and from them are the Chepewyans descended.

When the mighty Bird of Ages had finished his work of calling into
existence the different creatures, he made a great arrow to be the
sign of the deeds he had done; with the command that it should remain
lodged in the great council-house of the Chepewyans, until time should
be no more. As long as they should obey this command, they should ever
be victorious over their enemies, and fortunate in all their hunting
expeditions; their word should be law to all the tribes and nations,
from the Frozen Sea to the land of the Shawanos, from the towns of the
Iroquois to the Mountains of Thunder. But, whenever they should by
carelessness lose it, they should be doomed to encounter their full
share of the losses and defeats, and difficulties, and disappointments,
which belong to other and less favoured tribes. They should sometimes
be overcome by a force of inferior numbers; and often seek the beasts
of the chace for many weary days without finding them. And, saying
thus, he gave the arrow into the hands of the chief man of the
Chepewyans.

For many, very many ages, the Chepewyans scrupulously remembered the
injunctions of the mighty Bird respecting the arrow, and kept it
treasured up in the house of the great council. While they did so,
they were the most fortunate tribe on the earth, and became lords over
all, conquerors in every battle, and the most fortunate hunters the
world has ever known. But, at length carelessness got the better of
prudence, and they suffered the arrow to be stolen; the sacrilege so
enraged the Bird of Ages, that he quitted the earth, and winged his
way to the place he inhabited before he descended from above. He has
never been seen on earth since; but the Chepewyans, and other tribes
whom this tale has reached, believe that the thunder of the hot moons
is the clapping of his wings, and the lightning which accompanies it,
the glancing of his eye. When a dark cloud that has no rain crosses
the earth, they say he is flying between it and the sun; and they
believe that the snow of the winter is the down which he strips from
his breast.

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