Native American Legends
The Maiden of the Yellow Rocks
A Zuni Legend
In the days of the ancients, our ancestors lived in the Village
of the Yellow Rocks, also in the Salt City, also in the Village
of the Winds, and also in the Village of the White Flowering Herbs,
and also in the Village of Odd Waters.
When in fact all these now broken-down villages were inhabited
by our ancients, there lived in the Village of the Yellow Rocks
a very beautiful maiden, the daughter of the high priest.
Although a woman, she was wonderfully endowed by birth with the
magic knowledge of the hunt and with the knowledge of all the animals
who contribute to the sustenance of man,--game animals. And, although
a woman, she was also somewhat bad in her disposition, and selfish,
in that, possessing this knowledge above all other men and women,
she concluded she would have all these animals-the deer, antelope,
rabbits--to herself.
So, through her wonderful knowledge of their habits and language,
she communicated with them and charmed them, and on the top of the
mountain, where you will see to this day the ancient figures of
the deer cut in the rock, she built a huge corral, and gathered
one after another all the deer and antelope and other wild animals
of that great country. And the hunters of these villages hunted
in vain; they trailed the deer and the antelope, but they lost their
trails and always came home with nothing save the weapons they took
with them.
But this maiden, whenever she wished for deer, would go to her
corral and kill whatever animal she wanted; so she and her family
always had plenty of meat, while others were without it; always
had plenty of buckskins with which to make moccasins and apparel,
while others were every day wearing out their old supply and never
able to replenish it.
Now, this girl was surpassingly beautiful, and was looked upon
by many a young man as the flower of his heart and the one on whom
he would ultimately concentrate his thoughts for life. Amongst these
young men, the first to manifest his feelings was a youth from the
Village of the Winds.
One day he said to his old people: "I am going courting."
And they observed that he made up a bundle of various precious things
for women's dress and ornamentation--necklaces, snow-white buckskin
moccasins and leggings, and embroidered skirts and mantles--and,
taking his bundle on his shoulders, he started off for the Village
of the Yellow Rocks.
When he reached the village he knew the home of the maiden by the
beauty of the house. Among other houses it was alone of its kind.
Attached to the ladder was the cross-piece carved as it is in these
days, but depending from it was a fringe of black hair (not scalp-locks)
with which they still ornament certain houses when they have sacred
ceremonies; and among this fringe were hung hot low stalactites
from a sacred cave on the Colorado Chiquito, which sounded, when
the wind blew them together, like little bells.
This fringe was full of them, so that when a stranger came to this
important chief-priest's house he no sooner touched the ladder-rung
at the foot than the bells tinkled, and they knew some one was coming.
As he placed his foot on the lowermost rung of the ladder, chi-la-li
sang the bells at the top.
Said the people within: "Someone is coming."
Step after step he went up, and still the bells made music at the
top, and as he stepped over on the roof, thud, thud, his footsteps
sounded as he walked along; and when he reached the door, those
within said: "Thou comest?" And he replied: "I come.
Draw me in"; by which expression he meant that he had brought
with him a present to the family. Whenever a man has a bundle to
hand down, it is the place of the woman to take it; and that is
called "drawing a man in," though she only takes his bundle
and he follows.
In this case he said "Draw me in," and the maiden came
to the top of the ladder and took the bundle and dropped it on the
floor. They knew by the appearance of the bundle what the object
of the visit was.
The old man was sitting by the fireplace,--it was night-time,--and
as the stranger entered, said, "Thou hast come?"
The young man answered: "Yes."
Said the old man: "It is not customary for a stranger to visit
the house of a stranger without saying something of what may be
in his thoughts."
"It is quite true," said the youth; "I come thinking
of this maiden, your daughter. It has occurred to me that I might
happily and without fear rest my thoughts and hopes on her; therefore
I come."
The daughter brought forth food for the young man and bade him
eat. He reached forth his hand and partook of the food. She sat
down and took a mouthful or two, whereby they knew she was favorably
disposed. She was favorably disposed to all appearance, but not
in reality. When he had finished eating, she said: "As you
like, my father. You are my father." She answered to her own
thoughts: "Yes, you have often reproached me for not treating
with more gentleness those who come courting me."
Finally said the father: "I give ye my blessing and sacred
speech, my children. I will adopt thee as my child."
"My children," said the father, after a while, when he
had smoked a little, "the stranger, now a son, has come a long
distance and must be weary."
So the maiden led him to an upper chamber, and said: "Rest
here; you are not yet my husband. I would try you in the morning.
Get up early, when the deer are most plentiful, and go forth and
slay me a fine one, and then indeed shall we rest our hopes and
thoughts on each other for life."
"It is well," said the youth; and he retired to sleep,
and in the morning arose early. The maiden gave into his hands the
food for the day; he caught up his bows and arrows and went forth
into the forests and mountains, seeking for the deer. He found a
superb track and followed it until it suddenly disappeared, and
though he worked hard and followed it over and over again, he could
find nothing.
While the young man was out hunting and following the tracks for
nothing, the young girl went out, so as to be quite sure that none
of her deer should get out; and what did she do? She went into the
river and followed it against the current, through the water beyond
the village and where the marked rocks stand, up the cañon
to the place where her deer were gathered. They were all there,
peaceful and contented. But there were no tracks of the girl; no
one could follow where she went.
The young man hunted and hunted, and at night-time, all tired out
and hungry, took his way back to the home of the maiden. She was
there.
"Ha!" said she, "what good fortune today?"
And the young man with his face dragged down and his eyes not bright,
answered: "I found no game today."
"Well," said the girl, "it is too bad; but under
the circumstances we cannot rest our thoughts and hopes on each
other for life."
"No, I suppose not," said the young man.
"Here is your bundle," said the girl. She raised it very
carefully and handed it to him. He took it over his shoulder, and
after all his weary work went on his way home.
The very next day a young man named Hálona, when he heard
of this, said: "Ha! ha! What a fool he was! He didn't take
her enough presents; he didn't please her. I am said to be a very
pleasant fellow" (he was a very conceited young man); "I
will take her a bundle that will make things all right."
So he put into a bundle everything that a woman could reasonably
want,--for he was a wealthy young man, and his bundle was very heavy,--put
on his best dress, and with fine paint on his face started for the
home of the maiden. Finally, his foot touched the lowermost rung
of the ladder; the stalactites went jingling above as he mounted,
and thud went his bundle as he dropped it on the roof.
"Somebody has come," said the people below. "Listen
to that!"
The maiden shrugged her shoulders and said: "Thou comest?"
"Yes," answered the young man; "draw me in."
So she reached up and pulled the huge bundle down into the room,
placing it on the floor, and the young man followed it down.
Said the old man, who was sitting by the fire, for it was night:
"Thou comest. Not thinking of nothing doth one stranger come
to the house of another. What may be thy thoughts?"
The young man looked at the maiden and said to himself: "What
a magnificent creature she is! She will be my wife, no fear that
she will not." Then said he aloud: "I came, thinking of
your daughter. I would rest my hopes and thoughts on her."
"It is well," said the old man. "It is the custom
of our people and of all people, that they may possess dignity,
that they may be the heads of households; therefore, young men and
maidens marry and establish themselves in certain houses. I have
no objection. What dost thou think, my daughter?"
"I have no objection," said the daughter.
"Ah, what did I tell you?" said the youth to himself,
and ate with a great deal of satisfaction the meal placed before
him.
The father laid out the corn-husks and tobacco, and they had a
smoke; then he said to his daughter: "The stranger who is now
my son has come a long way, and should not be kept sitting up so
long."
As the daughter led him to another room, he thought: "What
a gentle creature she is! How softly she steps up the ladder."
When the door was reached, she said: "Here we will say good-night."
"What is the matter?" he asked.
Said she: "I would like to know of my husband this much, that
he is a good hunter; that I may have plenty of food all my days,
and plenty of buckskins for my clothing. Therefore I must ask that
in the morning you go forth and hunt the deer, or bring home an
antelope for me."
The young man quickly recovered himself, and said: "It is
well," and lay himself down to rest.
So the next morning he went out, and there was the maiden at the
top of the house watching him. He couldn't wait for daylight; he
wanted the Sun, his father, to rise before his time, and when the
Sun did rise he jumped out of bed, tied his quiver to his belt,
took his bow in his hand, and, with a little luncheon the maiden
had prepared for him, started off.
As he went down the river he saw the maiden was watching him from
the top of the house; so he started forward and ran until he was
out of sight, to show how fine a runner he was and how good a hunter;
because he was reputed to be a very strong and active young man.
He hunted and hunted, but did not find any deer, nor even any tracks.
Meanwhile, the maiden went up the stream as before and kept watch
of the corral; and he fared as the other young man had fared. At
night he came home, not quite so downcast as the other had been,
because he was a young man of more self-reliance.
She asked, as she met him: "Haven't you got any deer today?"
He answered: "No."
She said: "I am sorry, but under the circumstances I don't
see how we can become husband and wife."
So he carried his bundle home.
The next day there was a young man in the City of Salt who heard
of this,--not all of it, but he heard that day after day young men
were going to the home of this maiden to court her, and she turned
them all away. He said: "I dare say they didn't take enough
with them." So he made up two bundles and went to the home
of the maiden, and he said to himself: "This time it will be
all right."
When he arrived, much the same conversation was gone through as
before with the other young men, and the girl said, when she lighted
him to the door of his room: "My young friend, if you will
find a deer for me tomorrow I will become your wife and rest my
hope only on you."
"Mercy on me!" thought the young man to himself, "I
have always been called a poor hunter. What shall I do?"
The next morning he tried, but with the same results.
Now, this girl was keeping the deer and antelope and other animals
so long closed up in the corral that the people in all the villages
round about were ready to die of hunger for meat. Still, for her
own gratification she would keep these animals shut up.
The young man came back at evening, and she asked him if he had
found a deer for her.
"No," said he, "I could not even find the trail
of one."
"Well," she said, "I am sorry, for your bundles
are heavy."
He took them up and went home with them.
Finally, this matter became so much talked about that the two small
gods on the top of Thunder Mountain, who lived with their grandmother
where our sacrificial altar now stands, said: "There is something
wrong here; we will go and court this maiden." Now, these gods
were extremely ugly in appearance when they chose to be--mere pigmies
who never grew to man's stature. They were always boys in appearance,
and their grandmother was always crusty with them; but they concluded
one night that they would go the next day to woo this maiden.
Said one to the other: "Suppose we go and try our luck with
her." Said he: "When I look at you, you are very handsome."
Said the other to him: "When I look at you, you are extremely
handsome."
They were the ugliest beings in human form, but in reality were
among the most magnificent of men, having power to take any form
they chose.
Said the elder one: "Grandmother, you know how much talk there
is about this maiden in the Village of the Yellow Rocks. We have
decided to go and court her."
"You miserable, dirty, ugly little wretches! The idea of your
going to court this maiden when she has refused the finest young
men in the land!"
"Well, we will go," said he.
"1 don't want you to go," replied she. "Your names
will be in the mouths of everybody; you will be laughed and jeered
at."
"We will go," said they. And, without paying the slightest
attention to their grandmother, they made up their bundle--a very
miserable bundle it was; the younger brother put in little rocks
and a sticks and bits of buckskins and all sorts of worthless things--and
they started off.
"What are you carrying this bundle for?" asked Áhaiyúta,
the elder brother.
"I am taking it as a present to the maiden," said Mátsailéma,
the younger one.
"She doesn't want any such trash as that," said the other.
"They have taken very valuable presents to her before; we have
nothing to take equal to what has been carried to her by others."
They decided to throw the bundle away altogether, and started out
with absolutely nothing but their bows and arrows.
As they proceeded they began to kill wood-rats, and continued until
they had slaughtered a large number and had a long string of them
held up by their tails.
"There!" exclaimed the younger brother.
"There is a fine present for the girl." They knew perfectly
well how things were, and were looking out for the interests of
their children in the villages round about.
"Oh, my younger brother!" said the elder. "These
will not be acceptable to the girl at all; she would not have them
in the house!"
"Oh, yes, she would," said the younger; "we will
take them along as a present to her."
So they went on, and it was hardly noon when they arrived with
their strings of rats at the white cliffs on the southern side of
the cañon opposite the village where the maiden lived.
"Here, let us sit down in the shade of this cliff," said
the elder brother, "for it is not proper to go courting until
evening."
"Oh, no," said the younger, "let us go along now.
I am in a hurry! I am in a hurry!"
"You are a fool!" said the elder brother; "you should
not think of going courting before evening. Stay here patiently."
So they sat down in the shade of the cliff. But the younger kept
jumping up and running out to see how the sun was all the afternoon,
and he would go and smooth out his string of rats from time to time,
and then go and look at the sun again. Finally, when the sun was
almost set, he called out: "Now, come on!"
"Wait until it is wholly dark," said the other. "You
never did have any patience, sense, or dignity about you."
"Why not go now?" asked the younger.
So they kept quarreling, but the elder brother's wish prevailed
until it was nearly dark, when they went on.
The elder brother began to get very bashful as they approached
the village. "I wonder which house it is," said he.
"The one with the tallest ladder in front of it, of course,"
said the other.
Then the elder brother said in a low voice: "Now, do behave
yourself; be dignified."
"All right!" replied the younger.
When they got to the ladder, the elder one said in a whisper: "I
don't want to go up here; I don't want to go courting; let's go
back."
"Go along up," said the younger.
"Keep still; be quiet said the elder one; "be dignified!"
They went up the ladder very carefully, so that there was not a
tinkle from the bells. The elder brother hesitated, while the younger
one went on to the top, and over the edge of the house.
"Now!" cried he.
"Keep still!" whispered the other; and he gave the ladder
a little shake as he went, and the bells tinkled at the top.
The people downstairs said: "Who in the world is coming now?"
When they were both on the roof, the elder brother said: "You
go down first."
"I will do nothing of the kind," said the other, you
are the elder."
The people downstairs called out: "Who comes there?"
"See what you have done, you simpleton!" said the elder
brother. Then with a great deal of dignity he walked down the ladder.
The younger one came tumbling down, carrying his string of rats.
"Throw it out, you fool; they don't want rats!" said
the elder one.
"Yes, they do," replied the other. "The girl will
want these; maybe she will marry us on account of them!"
The elder brother was terribly disturbed, but the other brought
his rats in and laid them in the middle of the floor.
The father looked up, and said: "You come?"
"Yes," answered the two odd ones.
"Sit down," said the old man. So they sat down, and food
was placed before them.
"It seems," said the father, "that ye have met with
luck today in hunting," as he cast his eyes on the string of
rats.
"Yes," said the Two.
So the old priest went and got some prayer-meal, and, turning the
faces of the rats toward the east, said a short prayer.
"What did I tell you?" said the younger brother they
like the presents we have brought. just see!"
Presently the old man said: "It is not customary for strangers
to come to a house without something in mind."
"Quite so," said the younger brother.
"Yes, my father," said the elder one; "we have come
thinking of your daughter. We understand that she has been wooed
by various young men, and it has occurred to us that they did not
bring the right kind of presents."
"So we brought these," said the younger brother.
"It is well," said the old man. "It is the custom
for maidens and youths to marry. It rests with my daughter."
So he referred the matter to his daughter, and she said: "As
you think, my father. Which one?"
"Oh, take us both!" said the younger brother.
This was rather embarrassing to the maiden, but she knew she had
a safe retreat. So when the father admonished her that it was time
to lead the two young men up into the room where the others had
been placed, she told them the same story.
They said, "It is well."
They lay down, but instead of sleeping spent most of the night
in speculating as to the future.
"What a magnificent wife we will have," said one to the
other.
"Don't talk so loud; every one will hear you; you will be
covered with shame!"
After a while they went to sleep; but were awake early the next
morning. The younger brother began to talk to the elder one, who
said: "Keep quiet; the people are not awake; don't disturb
them!"
The younger one said: "The sun is rising."
"Keep quiet," said the other, "and when they are
awake they will give us some luncheon to take with us."
But the younger one jumped up and went rushing about the house,
calling out: "The sun is rising; Get up!"
The luncheon was provided, and when they started off the maiden
went out on the house-top and asked them which direction they would
take.
Said they: "We will go over to the south and will get a deer
before long, although we are very small and may not meet with very
good luck."
So they descended the ladder, and the maiden said to herself: "Ugly,
miserable little wretches; I will teach them to come courting me
in this way!"
The brothers went off to the cliffs, and, while pretending to be
hunting, they ran back through the thickets near the house and waited
to see what the maiden would do.
Pretty soon she came out. They watched her and saw that she went
down the valley and presently ran into the river, leaving no trail
behind, and took her course up the stream. They ran on ahead, and
long before she had ascended the river found the path leading out
of it up the mountain. Following this path, they carne to the corral,
and, looking over it, they saw thousands of deer, mountain-sheep,
antelope, and other animals wandering around in the enclosure.
"Ha! here is the place!" the younger brother exclaimed.
"Let us go at them now!
"Keep quiet! Be patient! Wait till the maiden comes,"
said the elder one. "If we should happen to kill one of these
deer before she comes, perhaps she has some magic power or knowledge
by which she would deprive us of the fruits of our efforts."
"No, let us kill one now," said the other. But the elder
one kept him curbed until the maiden was climbing the cliff, when
he could restrain him no longer, and the youth pulled out his bow
and let fly an arrow at the largest deer. One arrow, and the deer
fell to the ground, and when the maiden appeared on the spot the
deer was lying dead not far away.
The brothers said: "You come, do you? And here we are!"
She looked at them, and her heart went down and became as heavy
as a stone, and she did not answer.
"I say, you come!" said the younger brother. "You
come, do you?"
She said, "Yes." Then said she to herself: "Well,
I suppose I shall have to submit, as I made the arrangement myself."
Then she looked up and said: "I see you have killed a deer."
"Yes, we killed one; didn't have any difficulty at all,"
said the younger brother. "Come, and help us skin him; we are
so little and hungry and tired we can't do it. Come on."
So the girl went slowly forward, and in a dejected way helped them
skin the deer. Then they began to shoot more deer, and attempted
to drag them out; but the men were so small they could not do it,
and the girl had to help them. Then they cut up the meat and made
it into bundles. She made a large one for herself, and they made
two little ones for themselves.
"Now," said they, wiping their brows, "we have done
a good day's work, haven't we?" and they looked at the maiden
with twinkling eyes.
"Yes," said she; "you are great hunters."
"Shall we go toward home?" asked the younger brother
of the maiden. "It would be a shame for you to take such a
bundle as that. I will take it for you."
"You little conceited wretch!" cried the elder brother.
"Haven't I tried to restrain you?--and now you are going to
bury yourself under a bundle of meat!"
No," said the younger brother, "I can carry it."
So they propped the great bundle of meat against a tree. The elder
brother called on the maiden to help him; the younger one stooped
down and received it on his back. They had no sooner let go of it
than it fell on the ground and completely flattened the little man
out.
"Mercy! mercy! I am dying; help me out of here!" cried
he.
So they managed to roll the: thing off, and he got up and rubbed
his back, complaining bitterly (he was only making believe), and
said: "I shall have to take my little bundle."
So he shouldered his little bundle, and the maiden took the large
one; but before she started she turned to the animals and said,
"Oh, my children! these many days, throwing the warm light
of your favor upon me, you have rested contented to remain away
from the sight of men. Now, hereafter you shall go forth whithersoever
you will, that the Earth may be covered with your offspring, and
men may once more have of your flesh to eat and of your pelts to
wear." And away went. the antelope, the deer, the mountain-sheep,
the elk, and the buffalo over all the land.
Then the young Gods of War turned to the maiden and said: "Now,
shall we go home?"
"Yes," said she.
"Well, I will take the lead," said the younger brother.
"Get behind where you belong," said the other;
I will precede the party." So the elder brother went first,
the maiden came next, and the younger brother followed behind, with
his little bag of meat.
So they went home, and the maiden placed the meat to dry in the
upper rooms of the house.
While she was doing this, it was yet early in the day. The two
brothers were sitting together, and whispering: "And what will
she say for herself now?"
"I don't see what she can say for herself."
"Of course, nothing can she say for herself."
And when the meat was all packed away in the house and the sun
had set, they sat by themselves talking this over: "What can
she say for herself?"
"Nothing whatever; nothing remains to be done."
"That is quite so," said they, as they went in to the
evening meal and sat with the family to eat it.
Finally the maiden said: "With all your hunting and the labors
of the day, you must be very weary. Where you slept last night you
will find a resting-place. Go and rest yourselves. I cannot consent
to marry you, because you have not yet shown yourselves capable
of taking care of and dressing the buckskins, as well as of killing
deer and antelope and such animals. For a long time buckskins have
been accumulating in the upper room. I have no brothers to soften
and scrape them; therefore, if you Two will take the hair off from
all my buckskins tomorrow before sunset, and scrape the underside
so that they will be thin and soft, I will consent to be the wife
of one of you, or both."
And they said: "Oh mercy, it is too bad!"
"We can never do it," said the younger brother.
"I don't suppose we can; but we can try," said the elder.
So they lay down.
"Let us take things in time," said the elder one, after
he had thought of it. And they jumped up and called to the maiden:
"Where are those buckskins?"
"They are in the upper room," said she.
She showed them the way to the upper room. It was packed to the
rafters with buckskins. They began to make big bales of these and
then took them down to the river. When they got them all down there
they said: "How in the world can we scrape so many skins? There
are more here than we can clean in a year."
"I will tell you what," said the younger brother; "we
will stow away some in the crevices of the rocks, and get rid of
them in that way."
"Always hasty, always hasty," said the elder. "Do
you suppose that woman put those skins away without counting every
one of them? We can't do that."
They spread them out in the water that they might soak all night,
and built a little dam so they would not float away. While they
were thus engaged they heard some one talking, so they pricked up
their ears to listen.
Now, the hill that stands by the side across from the Village of
the Yellow Rocks was, and still is, a favorite home of the Field-mice.
They are very prolific, and have to provide great bundles of wool
for their families. But in the days of the ancients they were terrible
gamblers and were all the time betting away their nests, and the
young Mice being perfectly bare, with no wool on them at all, died
of cold. And still they kept on betting, making little figures of
nests and betting these away against the time when they should have
more. It was these Mice which the two gods overheard.
Said the younger brother: "Listen to that! Who is talking?"
"Some one is betting. Let us go nearer."
They went across the river and listened, and heard the tiny little
voices calling out and shouting.
"Let us go in," said the younger brother. And he placed
his foot in the hole and descended, followed by the other. They
found there an enormous village of Field-mice in human form, their
clothes, in the shape of Mice, hanging over the sides of the house.
Some had their clothing all off down to their waists, and were betting
as hard as they could and talking with one another.
As soon as the two brothers entered, they said: "Who comes?"
The Two answered: "We come."
"Come in, come in," cried the Mice,--they were not very
polite. "Sit down and have a game. We have not anything to
bet just now, but if you trust us we will bet with you."
"What had you in mind in coming?" said an old Field-mouse
with a broken tail.
They answered that they had come because they heard voices. Then
they told their story.
"What is this you have to do?" asked the Mice.
"To clean all the hair off those pelts tomorrow."
The Mice looked around at one another; their eyes fairly sparkled
and burned.
"Now, then, we will help you if you will promise us something,"
said they; "but we want your solemn promise."
"What is that?" asked the brothers.
"That you will give us all the hair."
"Oh, yes," said the brothers; "we will be glad to
get rid of it."
"All right," said they; "where are the skins?"
Then they all began to pour out of the place, and they were so
numerous that it was like water, when the rain is falling hard,
running over a rock.
When they had all run out the two War-gods drew the skins on the
bank, and the Field-mice went to nibbling the hair and cleaning
off the underside. They made up little bundles of the flesh from
the skins for their food, and great parcels of the hair. Finally
they said: "May we have them all?"
"No," said the brothers, "we must have eight reserved,
four for each, so that we will be hard at work all day tomorrow."
"Well," said the Mice, "we can't consent to leaving
even so many, unless you promise that you will gather up all the
hair and put it somewhere so that we can get it."
The Two promised that, and said: "Be sure to leave eight skins,
will you? and we will go to bed and rest ourselves."
"All right, all right!" responded the Field-mice.
So the brothers climbed up the hill to the town, and up the ladder,
and slept in their room.
The next morning the girl said: "Now, remember, you will have
to clean every skin and make it soft and white."
So they went down to the river and started to work. The girl had
said to them that at midday she would go down and see how they were
getting along. They were at work nearly all the forenoon on the
skins. While the elder brother shaved the hair off, the younger
one scraped them thin and softened them.
When the maiden came at noon, she said: "How are you getting
along?"
"We have finished four and are at work on the fifth."
"Remember," said she, "you must finish all of them
today or I shall have to send you home."
So they worked away until a little before the sun set, when she
appeared again. They had just finished the last. The Field-mice
had carefully dressed all the others (they did it better than the
men), and there they lay spread out on the sands like a great field
of something growing, only white.
When the maiden came down she was perfectly overcome; she looked
and looked and counted and recounted. She found them all there.
Then she got a long pole and fished in the water, but there were
none.
Said she: "Yes, you shall be my husbands; I shall have to
submit."
She went home with them, and for a long time they all lived together,
the woman with her two husbands. They managed to get along very
comfortably, and the two brothers didn't quarrel any more than they
had done before.
Finally, there were born little twin boys, exactly like their fathers,
who were also twins, although one was called the elder and the other
the younger.
After a time the younger brother said: "Now, let us go home
to our grandmother. People always go home to their own houses and
take their families with them."
"No," said the elder one. "you must remember that
we have been only pretending to be human beings. It would not do
to take the maiden home with us."
"Yes," said the other; "I want her to go with us.
Our grandmother kept making fun of us; called us little, miserable,
wretched creatures. I want to show her that we amount to something!"
The elder brother could not get the younger one to leave the wife
behind, and like a dutiful wife she said: "I will go with you."
They made up their bundles and started out. It was a very hot day,
and when they had climbed nearly to the top of Thunder Mountain,
the younger brother said: "Ahem! I am tired. Let us sit down
and rest."
"It will not do," said the elder brother. "You know
very well it will not do to sit down; our father, the Sun, has forbidden
that we should be among mortals. It will not do."
"Oh, yes, it will; we must sit down here," said the younger
brother; and again his wish prevailed and they sat down.
At midday the Sun stood still in the sky, and looked down and saw
this beautiful woman, and by the power of his withdrawing rays quickly
snatched her from them while they were sitting there talking, she
carrying her little children.
The brothers looked around and said: "Where is our wife?"
"Ah, there she is," cried the younger; "I will shoot
her."
"Shoot your wife!" cried the elder brother.
No, let her go! Serves you right!"
"No," said the younger, "I will shoot her!"
He looked up and drew his arrow, and as his aim was absolutely unerring,
swish went the arrow directly to her, and she was killed. The power
of life by which the Sun was drawing her up was gone, the thread
was cut, and she fell over and over and struck the Earth.
The two little children were so very small, and their bones so
soft, that the fall did not hurt them much. They fell on the soft
bank, and rolled and rolled down the hill, and the younger brother
ran forward and caught them up in his arms, crying: "Oh, my
little children!" and brought them to the elder brother, who
said: "Now, what can be done with these little babies, with
no mother, no food?"
"We will take them home to grandmother," said the younger
brother.
"Your grandmother cannot take care of these babies,"
said the elder brother.
"Yes, she can, of course," said the younger brother.
"Come on, come on! I didn't want to lose my wife and children,
too; I thought I must still have the children; that is the reason
why I shot her."
So one of them took one of the children, and the other one took
the other, and they carried them up to the top of Thunder Mountain.
"Now, then," said the elder brother, "we went off
to marry; we come home with no wife and two little children and
with nothing to feed them."
"Oh, grandmother!" called out the younger brother.
The old woman hadn't heard them for many a day, for many a month,
even for years. She looked out and said: "My grandchildren
are coming," and she called to them: "I am so glad you
have come!"
"Here, see what we have," said the younger brother. "Here
are your grandchildren. Come and take them!"
"Oh, you miserable boy, you are always doing something foolish;
where is your wife?" asked the grandmother.
"Oh, I shot her!" was the response.
"Why did you do that?"
"I didn't want my father, the Sun, to take them away with
my wife. I knew you would not care anything about my wife, but I
knew you would be very fond of the grandchildren. Here they are."
But she wouldn't look at all. So the younger brother drew his face
down, and taking the poor little children in his arms said: "You
unnatural grandmother, you! Here are two nice little grandchildren
for you!"
She said: "How shall I feed them? or what shall I do with
them?"
He replied: "Oh, take care of them, take care of them!"
She took a good look at them, and became a true grandmother. She
ran and clasped the little ones, crying out: "Let me take you
away from these miserable children of mine!" She made some
beds of sand for them, as Zuñi mothers do today, got some
soft skins for them to lie on, and fed them with a kind of milk
made of corn toasted and ground and mixed with water; so that they
gradually enlarged and grew up to be nice children.
Thus it was in the days of the ancients, and has been told to us
in these days, that even the most cruel and heartless of the gods
do these things. Even they took these helpless children to their
grandmother, and she succored them and brought them up to the time
of reason.
Therefore it is the duty of those who find helpless babies or children,
inasmuch as they are not so cruel and terrible as were the Gods
of War,--not nearly,--surely it is their duty to take those children
and succor and bring them up to the time of reason, when they can
care for themselves. That is why our people, when children have
been abandoned, provide and care for them as if they were their
own.
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