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241
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:53:47 PM »

The world is peopled, however, with other wonder-folk
besides the magic animals, and many of these mythic beings
belong to ancient and wide-spread systems. Thus, the Chero-
kee Flint (Tawiskala) is obviously the evil twin of the north-
ern Iroquois cosmogony; and although he has ceased to be
remembered as a demiurgic Titan, his evil and unsociable na-
ture remains the same.'*’’ In Choctaw tales, the Devil who is
drowned by a maiden whom he has lured from her home, and
whose body breaks into stony fragments, is apparently the
same being.®* The Ice Man, with his northerly winds and
sleety rains, who quenched the fire that threatened to consume
the world; the North who kept the South for Bride until the
hot sun forced him to release her; Untsaiyi, the Gambler,
who games away his life, and flees to the world’s end, where
he is bound and pinned by the two brothers who have pursued
him, there to writhe until the world’s end — all these are
tales with familiar heroes, known in many tribes and lands.

Nor are the tribes of magic folk different in kind from those
found elsewhere. There are the helpful spirit warriors, who
dwell in rock and hill, the Nunnehi; there are the Little
People, fairies good and evil; ** there are the Tsundigewi, the
Dwarfs who lived in nests scooped from the sand, and who
fought with and were overcome by the cranes;* the Water-
Cannibals, who live upon human flesh, especially that of
children; ® the Thunderers, whose steed is the great Uktena;



THE GULF REGION


69

the horned snake with a diamond in his forehead,®^ and to
whose cave a young man was lured by the Thunder^s sister,
only to find, when he returned to his folk to tell his story and
die, that the night he had spent there comprised long years.
Kanati, Lucky Hunter, the husband of Selu, Corn, and Tsui-
kalu, the slant-eyed giant, held dominion over the animals
and were gods of the hunter; while the different animals, each
in its kind, were under the supervision of the animal Elders,^®
such as the Little Deer, invisible to all except the greatest
hunters, the White Bear, to whom wounded bears go to be
cured of their hurts, Tlanuwa, the Hawk impervious to
arrows, Dakwa, the great fish which swallowed the fisherman
and from which he cut himself out, and the man-eating Leech,
as large as a house.

Such Is the general complexion of the Cherokee pantheon —
hordes or kinds of nature-powers, with a few mightier per-
sonalities emerging above them, embryonic gods. Altogether
similar are the conceptions of the Muskhogean tribes — giants
and dwarfs, fairies and wizards, now human, now animal in
shape, peopling hill and stream, forest and bayou.

VIL MYTHIC HISTORY57

Tribes, such as the Cherokee, Creek, and allied nations,
with settled towns and elaborate institutions are certain to
show some development of the historical sense. It is true that
the Cherokee have no such wealth of historic tradition as
have their northern cousins, the peoples of the Iroquois Con-
federacy; but at the same time they possess a considerable
lore dealing with their past. Hero tales, narrating the deeds of
redoubtable warriors of former days, and incidentally keeping
alive the memory of the tribes with whom the Cherokee were at
war in early days, naturally form the chief portion of such tra-
ditions; but there are also fabulous stories of abandoned towns,
ancient mounds, and strange peoples formerly encountered.



70 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

In one particular the Cherokee are distinguished above all
other tribes. In the first years of the nineteenth century
Sequoya, having observed the utility of the white man’s art
of writing, invented the Cherokee alphabet, still employed for
the native literature. He submitted his syllabary to the chief
men of the nation; it was adopted, and in a few months thou-
sands of the Cherokee had learned its use. Nevertheless, this
innovation was not made without antagonism; and the oppo-
nents, to make strong their case, told a tale of how, when In-
dian and white man were created, the Indian, who was the
elder, received a book, while the white was given bow and
arrows. But since the Indian was neglectful of his book, the
white man stole it, leaving the bow in its place, so that thence-
forth the book belonged legitimately to the white man, while
hunting with the bow was the Indian’s rightful life. A similar
tale makes the white man’s first gift a stone, and the Indian’s
a piece of silver, these gifts becoming exchanged; while an-
other story tells how the negro invented the locomotive, which
the white man, after killing the negro, took from him.

To an entirely different stratum of historical myth belongs
the story of the massacre of the Anikutani. These were a
priestly clan having hereditary supervision of all religious
ceremonies among the Cherokee. They abused their powers,
taking advantage of the awe in which they were held, to over-
ride the most sacred rights of their fellow tribesmen, until
finally, after one of the Anikutani had violated the wife of a
young brave, the people rose in wrath and extirpated the clan.
In later versions it is a natural calamity which is made re-
sponsible for the destruction of the wicked priests; so that here
we seem to have a tale which records not only a radical change
in the religious institutions of the tribe, but which is well on
the way toward the formation of a story of divine retribution.®

The Creek “Migration Legend,” edited by Gatschct, and
recorded from a speech delivered in 1735 by Chekilli, head
chief of the Creek, is a much more comprehensive historical



THE GULF REGION


71


myth than anything preserved for us by the kindred tribes.
The legend begins with the account of how the Cussitaw (the
Creek) came forth from the Earth in the far West; how they
crossed a river of blood, and came to a singing mountain
where they learned the use of fire and received their mysteries
and laws. After this the related nations disputed as to which
was the eldest, and the Cussitaw, having been the first to



Copper plate found in Etowah Mound, Georgia, representing a Birdlike
Deity. Now in the United States National Museum, Washington


cover their scalp-pole with scalps, were given the place of
honour. Since a huge blue bird was devouring the folk, the
people gave it a clay woman to propitiate it and to induce it to
cease its depredations. By this woman the bird became the
father of a red rat, which gnawed its parent’s bowstring. Thus
the bird was una.ble to defend itself, and the people slew it,
though they regarded it as a king among birds, like the eagle.
They came to a white path, and thence to the town of

X— 7



72 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

Coosaw, where they dwelt four years. A man-eating lion
preyed upon the people of this town. “The Cussitaws said
they would try to kill the beast. They digged a pit and
stretched over it a net made of hickory bark. They then laid
a number of branches crosswise, so that the lion could not
follow them, and going to the place where he lay they threw
a rattle into his den. The lion rushed forth in great anger and
pursued them through the branches. Then they thought it
better that one should die rather than all, so they took a
motherless child and threw it before the lion as he came near
the pit. The lion rushed at it, and fell in the pit, over which
they threw the net, and killed him with blazing pinewood.
His bones, however, they keep to this day; on one side they
are red, on the other blue. The lion used to come every seventh
day to kill the people. Therefore, they remained there seven
days after they had killed him. In remembrance of him, when
they prepare for war they fast six days and start on the seventh.
If they take his bones with them they have good fortune.”
After this, the tribe continued its journey, seeking the people
who had made the white path. They passed several rivers,
and came to various towns; but when they shot white arrows
into these towns, as a sign of peace, the inhabitants shot back
red arrows. Sometimes the Cussitaw went on without fight-
ing, sometimes they fought and destroyed the hostile people.
Finally, “they came again to the white path, and saw the
smoke of a town, and thought that this must be the people they
had so long been seeking. This is the place where nowthe tribe
of Palachucolas live. . . . The Palachucolas gave them black
drink, as a sign of friendship, and said to them: Our hearts are
white and yours must be white, and you must lay down the
bloody tomahawk, and show your bodies, as a proof that they
shall be white.” The two tribes were united under a common
chief. “Nevertheless, as the Cussitaws first saw the red
smoke and the red fire and made bloody towns, they cannot
yet leave their red hearts, which are, however, white on one



THE GULF REGION 73

side and red on the other. They now know that the white
path was the best for them.”

Such is the migration-legend of the Creek, altogether similar
to other tales of tribal wandering both in the New World and
the Old. Partly it is a mythical genesis ; partly it is an exodus
from a primitive land of tribulation and war into a land of
peace; partly it is historical reminiscence, the tale of a conquer-
ing tribe journeying in search of richer fields. The sojourn by
the mountain of marvels whence came the talismanic pole,®^
as well as knowledge of the law and the mysteries, recalls the
story of Sinai, while the white path and the search for the
land of peace suggest the promise of Canaan. The episodes
of the man-devouring bird and the man-eating lion possess
many mythic parallels, while both seem to hark back to a time
when human sacrifice was a recognized rite.^® Doubtless the
whole tale is a complex of fact and ritual, partly veritable
recollection of the historic past, partly a fanciful account of
the beginnings of the rites and practices of the nation. Last
of all, comes the bit of psychological analysis represented by
the allegory of the parti-coloured heart of the Red Man who
knows the better way, but, because of his divided nature, is
not wholly capable of following it. This gives to the whole
myth an aetiological rationality and a dramatically appro-
priate finish. The fall of man is narrated; his redemption re-
mains to be accomplished.

Unquestionably many myths of the type of this Creek legend
have been lost, for it is only by rare chance that such heroic
tales survive the vicissitudes of time.



72 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

Coosaw, whei'c they dwelt four years. A man-eating Hon
preyed upon the people of this town. “The Cussitaws said
they would try to kill the beast. They digged a pit and
stretched over it a net made of hickory bark. They then laid
a number of branches crosswise, so that the lion could not
follow them, and going to the place where he lay they threw
a rattle into his den. The lion rushed forth in great anger and
pursued them through the branches. Then they thought it
better that one should die rather than all, so they took a
motherless child and threw it before the lion as he came near
the pit. The lion rushed at it, and fell in the pit, over which
they threw the net, and killed him with blazing pinewood.
His bones, however, they keep to this day; on one side they
are red, on the other blue. The lion used to come every seventh
day to kill the people. Therefore, they remained there seven
days after they had killed him. In remembrance of him, when
they prepare for war they fast six days and start on the seventh.
If they take his bones with them they have good fortune.”
After this, the tribe continued its journey, seeking the people
who had made the white path. They passed several rivers,
and came to various towns; but when they shot white arrows
into these towns, as a sign of peace, the inhabitants shot back
red arrows. Sometimes the Cussitaw went on without fight-
ing, sometimes they fought and destroyed the hostile people.
Finally, “they came again to the white path, and saw the
smoke of a town, and thought that this must be the people they
had so long been seeking. This is the place where nowthe tribe
of Palachucolas live. . . . The Palachucolas gave them black
drink, as a sign of friendship, and said to them: Our hearts are
white and yours must be white, and you must lay down the
bloody tomahawk, and show your bodies, as a proof that they
shall be white.” The two tribes were united under a common
chief. “Nevertheless, as the Cussitaws first saw the red
smoke and the red fire and made bloody towns, they cannot
yet leave their red hearts, which are, however, white on one'



THE GULF REGION 73

side and red on the other. They now know that the white
path was the best for them.”

Such is the migration-legend of the Creek, altogether similar
to other tales of tribal wandering both in the New World and
the Old. Partly it is a mythical genesis; partly it is an exodus
from a primitive land of tribulation and war into a land of
peace; partly it is historical reminiscence, the tale of a conquer-
ing tribe journeying in search of richer fields. The sojourn by
the mountain of marvels whence came the talismanic pole,®’-
as well as knowledge of the law and the mysteries, recalls the
story of Sinai, while the white path and the search for the
land of peace suggest the promise of Canaan. The episodes
of the man-devouring bird and the man-eating lion possess
many mythic parallels, while both seem to hark back to a time
when human sacrifice was a recognized rite.*® Doubtless the
whole tale is a complex of fact and ritual, partly veritable
recollection of the historic past, partly a fanciful account of
the beginnings of the rites and practices of the nation. Last
of all, comes the bit of psychological analysis represented by
the allegory of the parti-coloured heart of the Red Man who
knows the better way, but, because of his divided nature, is
not wholly capable of following it. This gives to the whole
myth an aetiological rationality and a dramatically appro-
priate finish. The fall of man is narrated; his redemption re-
mains to be accomplished.

Unquestionably many myths of the type of this Creek legend
have been lost, for it is only by rare chance that such heroic
tales survive the vicissitudes of time.



CHAPTER V
THE GREAT PLAINS
I. THE TRIBAL STOCKS

T he broad physlographical divisions of the North Ameri-
can continent are longitudinal. The region bounded on
the east by the Atlantic seaboard extends westward to parallel
mountain ranges which slope away on the north into the
Labrador peninsula and Hudson’s Bay, and to the south into
the peninsula of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico. West of the
eastward mountains, stretching as far as the vast ranges of the
Rockies, is the great continental trough, whose southern half
is drained by the Mississippi into the Gulf, while the Macken-
zie and its tributaries carry the waters from the northern divi-
sion into the Arctic Ocean. The eastern portion of this trough,
to a line lying roughly between longitudes 90 and 95, is a
part of what was originally the forest region; the western
part, from far beyond the tree line in the north to the des-
erts of northern Mexico, comprises the Great Plains of North
America, the prairies, or grass lands, which, previous to white
settlement, supported innumerable herds of buffalo to the south
and caribou to the north, as well as a varied and prolific life
of lesser animals — antelope, deer, rabbits, hares, fur-bearing
animals, and birds in multitude. Coupled with this plenitude
of game was a paucity of creatures formidable to man, so that
aboriginally the Great Plains^ afforded a hunting-ground with
scarcely an equal on any continent. It was adapted to and did
support a hale population of nomadic huntsmen.

As in similar portions of the earth having no natural bar-
riers to passage and intercourse, the human aboriginals of the



THE GREAT PLAINS


75


region fell into few and vast linguistic stocks. Territorially
the greatest of these was the Athapascan, which occupied all
central Alaska and, in Canada, extended from the neighbour-
hood of the Eskimo southward through the greater part of
British Columbia and Athabasca into Alberta, and which,
curiously enough, also bounded the Great Plains population
to the south, Athapascan tribes, such as the Navaho and
Apache, occupying the plains of southern Texas, New Mexico,
and northern Mexico. Just south of the northern Athapascans
a stratum of the Algonquian stock, including the important
Cree and Blackfoot tribes, penetrated as far west as the moun-
tains of Alberta and Montana, while north of the southern
Athapascans, as it were reciprocally, a layer of the western
Shoshonean stock extended eastward into central Texas, the
Shoshonean Comanche forming one of the fiercest of the Plains
tribes. Between these groups, occupying the greatest and
richest portion of the prairie region in the United States, were
the powerful and numerous Siouan and Caddoan peoples, the
former, probably immigrants from the eastern forests, having
their seat in the north, while the Caddo, whose provenance
seems to have been southern, were divided into three segre-
gated groups, Texan, Nebraskan, and Dakotan. The Pawnee,
Wichita, Arikara, and Caddo proper are the principal tribes
of the Caddoan stock; the Siouan stock is represented by
many tribes and divisions, of whom the most famous are the
Dakota or Sioux, the Omaha, Assinaboin, Ponca, Winnebago,
Mandan, Crow, and Osage. It is of interest to note that five
states, Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, and the two Dakotas,
either bear the designations of Siouan tribes or appellations
of Siouan origin, while many towns, rivers, and counties are
similarly named. Other important Plains tribes, occupying
the region at the base of the Rocky Mountains, from Wyoming
south to northern Texas, are the Arapaho and Cheyenne of the
intrusive Algonquian stock and the Kiowa, linguistically un-
related to any other people.


242
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:53:09 PM »

In the opening ceremony (according to one authority) the
fire-maker is said to converse with “the Master of Breath.”
Doubtless the cane tipped with white feathers is (as white
feathers are elsewhere) a symbol of the breath of life, and the
rite at the riverbank is thus to be interpreted as the death of
the year throughout the world’s quarters.

That the Indians regarded the Busk as a period of momen-
tous change is clear from its attendant social consequences.
The women burned or otherwise destroyed old vessels, mats,
and the like, replacing them with new and unused ones; the
town was cleansed; and all crimes, except murder, were for-
given. The new fire was the symbol of the new life of the
new year, whose food was now for the first time taken;
while the fasting and purgation were purificatory rites to
prepare men for new undertakings. The usual date for the
ceremony was in July or August, though it varied from town
to town with the ripening of the maize. Ceremonies similar
to the Creek Busk, though less elaborate, were observed by
the Chickasaw, Seminole, and, doubtless, by other Muskho-
gean tribes.



6o


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


IV. COSMOGONIES «

The Gulf States, representing a region into which tribes
from both the north and the west had pressed, naturally show
diverse and contradictory conceptions, even among neighbour-
ing tribes. Perhaps most interesting is the contrast of cos-
mogonic ideas. The Forest tribes of the north commonly find
the prototype of the created world in a heaven above the
heavens, whose floor is the visible Armament; the tribes of the
South-West very generally regard the habitable earth as an
upper storey into which the ancestors of man ascended from
their pristine underground abodes. Both of these types of cos-
mogony are to be found in the Gulf region.

Naturally the Cherokee share with their Iroquoian cousins
the belief in an original upper world, though their version of
the origin of things is by no means as rich and complicated as
the Iroquois account. “The earth,” they say, “is a great island
floating in a sea, and suspended at each of the four cardinal
points by a cord hanging down from the sky vault, which is
of solid rock. When the world grows old and worn out, the
people will die and the cords will break and let the earth sink
down into the ocean, and all will be water again.” Originally
the animals were crowded into the sky-world; everything was
flood below. The Water-Beetle was sent on an exploration,
and after darting about on the surface of the waters and find-
ing no rest, it dived to the depths, whence it brought up a bit
of mud, from which Earth developed by accretion.^® “When
the earth was dry and the animals came down, it was still
dark, so they got the sun and set it in a track to go every day
across the island from east to west, just overhead. It was too
hot this way, and Tsiskagili, the Red Crayfish, had his shell
scorched a bright red, so that his meat was spoiled; and the
Cherokee do not eat it. The conjurers put the sun another
handbreadth higher in the air, but it was still too hot. They
raised it another time, and another, until it was seven hand-



THE GULF REGION


6i


breadths high and just under the sky arch. Then it was right,
and they left it so. This Is why the conjurers call the highest
place ‘the seventh height,’ because it Is seven handbreadths
above the earth. Every day the sun goes along under this arch,
and returns at night on the upper side to the starting place.” ^

The primeval sky-world and the chaos of waters, the episode
of the diving for earth, and the descent of life from heaven all
indicate a northern origin; but there are many features of this
myth suggestive of the far South-West, such as the crowding
of the animals in their original home, the seven heights of
heaven, and the raising of the sun. Furthermore, the Cherokee
myth continues with an obvious addition of south-western
ideas: “There is another world under this, and It is like ours
in everything — animals, plants, and people — save that the
seasons are different. The streams that come down from
the mountains are the trails by which we reach this under-
world, and the springs at their heads are the doorways by
which we enter it, but to do this one must fast and go to water
and have one of the underground people for a guide. We
know that the seasons in the underworld are different from
ours, because the water in the springs is always warmer in
winter and cooler in summer than the outer air.”

Among other Cherokee myths having to do with the begin-
nings of things is a legend of the theft of fire — a tale widely
distributed throughout America. The world was cold, says
the myth, until the Thunders sent their lightnings to implant
fire in the heart of a sycamore, which grew upon an island.
The animals beheld the smoke and determined to obtain the fire
to warm the world. First the birds attempted the feat, Raven
and Screech Owl and Horned Owl and Hooting Owl, but came
away only with scorched feathers or blinking eyes. Next the
snakes. Black Racer and Blacksnake, in succession swam
through the waters to the Island, but succeeded only in black-
ening their own skins. Finally, Water-Spider spun a thread
from her body and wove it into a tusti bowl which she fastened



6z


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


on her back and in which she succeeded in bringing home a
live coal.®^ Game and Corn came into the world through the
activities of two bo7s, one the son and one the foster-son of
old man Lucky Hunter and his wife Corn. The boys followed
their father into the woods, saw him open the rock entrance
of the great cave in which the animals were confined, and after-
ward in mischief loosed all the animals, to people the world
with game.^^ Their mother Corn they slew, and wherever
her blood fell upon the ground there maize sprang up.^® The
parents went to the East and dwelt with the sunrise, but the
boys themselves became the Thunderers and abode in the
darkening West, and the songs which they taught to the
hunters are still used in the chase of deer.

Like the Cherokee, the Yuchi held to the northern cosmog-
ony — an upper world, containing the Elders of men and ani-
mals, and a waste of waters below. Animal after animal
attempts to bring up earth from the deep, until, in this legend,
the crayfish succeeds in lifting to the surface the embryonic
ball whence Earth is to grow. The Yuchi add, however, an
interesting element to the myth: The new-formed land was
semi-fluid. Turkey-Buzzard was' sent forth to inspect it, with
the warning that he was not to flap his wings while soaring
above earth’s regions. But, becoming wearied, he did so, to
avoid falling, and the effect upon the fluid land of the winds so
created was the formation of hill and valley.

In contrast to these tales of a primeval descent or fall
from an upper world are the cosmogonic myths of an ascent
from a subterranean abode, which the Muskhogean tribes share
with the Indians of the South-West. “At a certain time, the
Earth opened in the West, where its mouth is. The earth
opened and the Cussitaws came out of its mouth, and set-
tled near by.” This is the beginning of the famous migra-
tion-legend of the Creeks, as preserved by Gatschet.®^ The
story recounts how the earth became angry and ate up a por-
tion of her progeny; how the people started out on a journey




PLATE XIII


Human figure in stone, probably representing a
deity ; height 2 i }4 inches. Found in Bartow County,
Georgia. After Report of the United States National
Museum^ 1896, Plate XLIV.





THE GULF REGION 63

toward the sunrise; how they crossed a River of Slime, then a
River of Blood, and came to the King of Mountains, whence a
great fire blazed upward with a singing sound. Here there was
an assembly of the Nations, and a knowledge of herbs and of
fire was given to men : from the East came a white fire, which
they would not use; from the South a blue fire, neither would
they have this; from the West came a black fire, and this, too,
was refused; but the fire from the North, which was red and
yellow, they took and mingled with the fire from the mountain,
“and this is the fire they use today; and this, too, sometimes
sings.” On the mountain they found a pole which was rest-
less and made a noise; they sacrificed a motherless child to
it,^® and then took it with them to be their war standard.'*®
At this same place they received from singing plants knowl-
edge of the herbs and purifications which they employ in
the Busk.

The Choctaw, like the Creek, regard themselves as earth-
born. In very ancient times, before man lived, Nane Chaha
(“high hill”) was formed, from the top of which a passage led
down into the caverns of earth from which the Choctaw
emerged, scattering to the four points of the compass. With
them the grasshoppers also appeared, but their mother, who
had stayed behind, was killed by men, so that no more of the
insects came forth, and ever after those that remained on
earth were known to the Choctaw as “mother dead.” The
grasshoppers, however, in revenge, persuaded Aba, the Great
Spirit, to close the mouth of the cave; and the men who re-
mained therein were transformed into ants.'*®

The Louisiana Choctaw continue their myth with the story
of how men tried to build a mound reaching to the heavens,
how the mound was thrown down and a confusion of tongues
ensued, how a great flood came, and how the Choctaw and
the animals they had taken ?with them into a boat were saved
from the universal deluge — all elements of an obviously
OldrWorld origin; though the story of the smoking mountain,



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


64

and of the cavern peopled by the ancestral animals and men,
is to be found far in the North and West on the American
continent, to which it is undoubtedly native.

V. ANIMAL STORIES

To the most primitive stratum of myth belong those tales of
the beginnings of things which have to do, not with the source
of the world — for the idea that man’s habitat is itself a single
being, with beginning and end, is neither a simple nor a very
primitive concept — but which recount the origins of animal
traits. How Snake got his poison, why ’Possum has a large
mouth, why Mole lives underground, why Cedar is red-grained
— these are titles representative of a multitude of stories nar-
rating the beginnings of the distinctive peculiarities of ani-
mals and plants as the Indian’s fancy conjectures them. The
Gulf-State region is particularly rich in tales of this type,
and it has been urged very plausibly that the prevalence of
similar and identical animal stories among the Indians and
negroes points to a common and probably American source
for most of them.

The snakes, the bees, and the wasps got their venom, ac-
cording to the Choctaw story, when a certain water- vine, which
had poisoned the Indians who came to the bayou to bathe,
surrendered its poison to these creatures out of commisera-
tion for men; the opossum got his big mouth, as stated by
these same Indians, from laughter occasioned by a malev-
olent joke which he perpetrated upon the deer; the mole lives
underground, say the Cherokee, for fear of rival magicians
jealous of his powers as a love-charmer; and in Yuchi story
the red grain of the cedar is due to the fact that to its top is
fastened the bleeding head of the wizard who tried to kill
the sun.

The motives inspiring the animal stories are various. Doubt-
less, the mere love of story-telling, for entertainment’s sake, is



THE GULF REGION


65

a fundamental stimulus; the plot is suggested \>y nature, and
the fancy enlarges upon it, frequently with a humorous or
satirical vein. But from satire to moralizing is an easy turn;
the story-teller who sees human foible in the traits of animals
is well on the way to become a fabulist. Many of the Indian
stories are intended to point a moral, just as many of them are
designed to give an answer, more or less credible, to a natural
difference that stimulates curiosity. Thus we find morals
and science, mingling instruction with entertainment, in this
most primitive of literary forms.

Vanity is one of the motives most constantly employed.
The Choctaw story of the raccoon and the opossum tells how,
long ago, both of these animals possessed bushy tails, but the
opossum’s tail was white, whereas the raccoon’s was beauti-
fully striped. At the raccoon’s advice, the opossum undertook
to brown the hairs of his tail at a fire, but his lack of caution
caused the hair to burn, and his tail has been smooth ever
since. A similar theme, with an obvious moral, is the Chero-
kee fable of the buzzard’s topknot: “The buzzard used to
have a fine topknot, of which he was so proud that he refused
to eat carrion, and while the other birds were pecking at the
body of a deer or other animal which they had found he would
strut around and say: ‘You may have it all, it is not good
enough for me.’ They resolved to punish him, and with the
help of the buffalo carried out a plot by which the buzzard
lost not his topknot alone, but nearly all the other feathers
on his head. He lost his pride at the same time, so that he is
willing enough now to eat carrion for a living.”

Vengeance, theft, gratitude, skill, and trickery in contest
are other motives which make of these tales not only explana-
tions but lessons. The fable of the lion and the mouse has a
Cherokee analogue in the story of the wolf whose eyes were
plastered shut, while he slept, by a malicious raccoon; a bird,
taking pity on the wolf, pecked the plaster from his eyes; and
the wolf rewarded the bird by telling him where to find red



66


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


paint with which he might colour the sombre feathers of his
breast. This was the origin of the redbird. The story of the
hare and the tortoise is recalled by the race of the crane and
the humming-bird; the swift humming-bird outstripped the
crane by day but slept at night; the lumbering crane, because
of his powers of endurance, flying night and day, won the
race. Even more suggestive of the same fable is the tale of
how the terrapin beat the rabbit, who had challenged him to
a race, by posting at each station on the course a member of
his family, himself awaiting his antagonist at the finish.

Magic and transformation stories form still another class
presenting many analogies to similar Old-World tales.^® The
Cherokee have a story, immediately reminiscent of German
folk-tales, of a girl who found a bullfrog sitting beside the
spring where she went for water; the bullfrog transformed
himself into a young man, whom she married, but his face
always had a froggish look. In other cases transformation is
for the sake of revenge, as the eagle who assumed human form
after his mate had been killed, and who took vengeance upon
the tribe of the hunter. Probably the moral of the broken
tabu lies at the basis of this story, for this is a frequent motive
in tales where men are transformed into animals or animals
assume human shape. Thus, a hungry hunter is turned into a
snake for eating squirrel meat, which was tabu to him; another
has his death foretold by a katydid whose song he ridicules;
another is lured by a doe, which comes to life after he has
slain her, to the cavern of the deer, and is there himself trans-
formed into a deer, returning to his own people only to die.
Stories of the Rip Van Winkle type develop from this theme
of the hunter lured away by animals, as in the instance of the
man who spent a night with the panthers, and found, upon his
return, that he had been lost a whole season; while Euro-
pean tales of merfolk find their parallels in stories of under-
water towns to which fishermen are dragged or lured by wizard
fishes.



THE GULF REGION


67


VI. TRICKSTERS AND WONDER-FOLK«

The telling of animal stories leads naturally to the formation
of groups of tales in which certain animals assume constant
and characteristic rUes, and attain to the rank of mythic be-
ings. The Brer Rabbit stories, made famous as negro tales
by Joel Chandler Harris, appear as a veritable saga cycle
among the Cherokee, from whom they are doubtless borrowed.
There can be little question that “ Brer Rabbit” — vain, tricky,
malicious — is a southern and humorous debasement of the
Great Hare, the Algonquian demiurge and trickster; while
the Turtle, also important in northern cosmogony, is repre-
sented by the put-upon, but shifty, “Brer Terrapin” of the
southern tales. The “tar baby” by which the thieving Rabbit
was tricked and caught appears in Cherokee lore as a “tar
wolf,” set as a trap ; the Rabbit, coming upon it by night, kicks
it and is stuck fast; the wolf and the fox find him caught, and
debate how he shall be put to death; the Rabbit pleads with
them not to cast him into the thicket to perish, which accord-
ingly they do, and thus he makes off. The escape of an animal
from his captors through pretending fear of his natural ele-
ment and thus inducing them to throw him into it is a frequent
incident in animal tales, while the “tar baby” story has va-
riants, as Mooney says, “not only among the Cherokee, but
also in Mexico, Washington, and southern Alaska — wher-
ever, in fact, the pinon or the pine supplies enough gum to
be molded into a ball for Indian uses.” Another legend found
from coast to coast, and known to Cherokee and Creek, is the
story of how the Rabbit dines the Bear (the “imitation of
the host” theme, as it is called, which has endless variants
throughout the continent) : “The Bear invited the Rabbit to
dine with him. They had beans in the pot, but there was no
grease for them, so the Bear cut a slit in his side and let the
oil run out until they had enough to cook the dinner. The
Rabbit looked surprised, and thought to himself, ‘That’s a



68


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


handy way. I think I’ll try that.’ When he started home he in-
vited the Bear to come and take dinner with him. When the
Bear came the Rabbit said, ‘I have beans for dinner, too.
Now I’ll get grease for them.’ So he took a knife and drove it
into his side, but instead of oil, a stream of blood gushed out
and he fell over nearly dead. The Bear picked him up and
had hard work to tie up the wound and stop the bleeding.
Then he scolded him, ‘You little fool, I’m large and strong
and lined all over with fat; the knife don’t hurt me; but
you’re small and lean, and you can’t do such things.’”

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« on: August 03, 2019, 07:51:42 PM »

A story which has many versions is that of the journey of
a group of men — sometimes four, sometimes seven — to the
abode of the Great Hare. He receives them courteously,
entertains them after their long journey, and asks each his
wish. One asks for skill in war, another for success in hunting,
another for fame, another for love, and the Master of Life
assures each of the granting of his request. But there is
one man yet to be heard from, and his plea is for long life;
whereupon he is transformed into a tree or, better, a stone:
“You shall have your wish; here you shall always remain for
future generations to look upon,” says the Hare. An odd sequel
to this story is that the returning warriors And their journey
very short, or again that what has seemed only a brief period
turns out to have been a stay of years — shifts of time which
indicate that their travel has led them into the spirit-world.

In another tale, this time from the Huron country, the fate-
ful journey to the Village of Souls is undertaken by a man who
has lost his beloved sister. Her spirit appears to him from time
to time as he travels, but he is unable to touch her. At last,
after crossing an almost impassable river, he comes to the
abode of one who directs him to the dancing-house of the spir-
its. There he is told to seize his sister’s soul, imprison it in a
pumpkin, and, thus secured, to take it back to the land of the
living, where he will be able to reanimate it, provided that,
during the ceremony, no one raises an eye to observe. This he
does, and he feels the life returning to his sister’s body, but at
the last moment a curious person ventures to look, and the
returning life flees away.®* Here is the tale of Orpheus and
Eurydice.

In both Algonquian and Iroquoian myth the path to the
Village of Souls is guarded by dread watchers, ready to cast
into the abyss beneath those whose wickedness has given them



THE FOREST TRIBES 51

into the power of these guardians — for this path they find in
the Milky Way, whose Indian name is the Pathway of Souls.®

VIII. HIAWATHA^

Tales recounting the deeds of Manabozho, collected and
published by Schoolcraft, as the “myth of Hiawatha,” were
the primary materials from which Longfellow drew for his
Song of Hiawatha. The fall of Nokomis from the sky; Hiawa-
tha’s journey to his father, the West Wind; the gift of maize,
in the legend of Mondamin;®® the conflict with the great Stur-
geon, by which Hiawatha was swallowed; the rape and res-
toration of Chibiabos; the pursuit of the storm-sprite, Pau-
Puk-Keewis; and the conflict of the upper and underworld
powers, are all elements in the cosmogonic myths of the Al-
gonquian tribes.

Quite another personage is the actual Hiawatha of Iroquoian
tradition, certain of whose deeds and traits are incorporated
in the poet’s tale. Hiawatha was an Onondaga chieftain whose
active years fell in the latter half of the sixteenth century.
At that time the Iroquoian tribes of central New York were
at constant war with one another and with their Algonquian
neighbours, and Hiawatha conceived the great idea of a union
which should ensure a universal peace. It was no ordinary
confederacy that he planned, but an intertribal government
whose affairs should be directed and whose disputes should be
settled by a federal council containing representatives from each
nation. This grandiose dream of a vast and peaceful Indian
nation was never realized; but it was due to Hiawatha that the
Iroquoian confederacy was formed, by means of which these
tribes became the overlords of the forest region from the
Connecticut to the Mississippi and from the St. Lawrence to
the Susquehanna.

This great result was not, however, easily attained. The
Iroquois preserve legends of Hiawatha’s trials; how he was



52


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


opposed among his own people by the magician and war-chief
Atotarho; how his only daughter was slain at a council of
the tribe by a great white bird, summoned, it is said, by the
vengeful magician, which dashed downward from the skies and
struck the maiden to earth; how Hiawatha then sadly departed
from the people whom he had sought to benefit, and came to
the villages of the Oneida in a white canoe, which moved with-
out human aid. It was here that he made the acquaintance
of the chief Dekanawida, who lent a willing ear to the apostle
of peace, and who was to become the great lawgiver of the
league. With the aid of this chieftain, Hiawatha’s plan was
carried to the Mohawk and Cayuga tribes, and once again to
the Onondaga, where, it is told, Hiawatha and Dekanawida
finally won the consent of Atotarho to the confederation.
Morgan says, of Atotarho, that tradition “ represents his head
as covered with tangled serpents, and his look, when angry,
as so terrible that whoever looked upon him fell dead. It
relates that when the League was formed, the snakes were
combed out of his hair by a Mohawk sachem, who was
hence named Hayowentha, ‘the man who combs,’” — which is
doubtless a parable for the final conversion of the great war-
chief by the mighty orator.®® After the union had been per-
fected, tradition tells how Hiawatha departed for the land of
the sunset, sailing across the great lake in his magic canoe.
The Iroquois raised him in memory to the status of a demigod.

In these tales of the man who created a nation from a medley
of tribes, we pass from the nature-myth to the plane of civil-
ization in which the culture hero appears. Hiawatha is an
historical personage invested with semi-divinity because of his
great achievements for his fellow-men. Such an apotheosis is
inevitable wherever, in the human race, the dream of peace
out of men’s divisions creates their more splendid unities.




PLATE XI

Iroquois drawing of Atotarho (i), receiving two
Mohawk chieftains, perhaps Dekanawida (2) and
Hiawatha (3). After Schoolcraft, Indian TribeSy part i,
Plate LXX.





CHAPTER IV
THE GULF REGION
I. TRIBES AND LANDS

T he states bordering the northern shores of the Gulf
of Mexico — the “Cotton Belt” — form a thoroughly
characteristic physiographic region. Low-lying and deeply
alluvial, abundantly watered both by rains and streams, and
blessed with a warm, equable climate, this district is the
natural support of a teeming life. At the time of its discovery
it was inhabited by completely individuated peoples. While
there were some intrusions of fragmentary representatives from
the great stocks of other regional centres — Iroquoian and
Siouan tribes from the north, and Arawak from the Bahamas
— the Gulf-State lands were mainly in the possession of lin-
guistic stocks not found elsewhere, and, therefore, to be re-
garded as aboriginals of the soil.

Of these stocks by far the largest and most important was
the Muskhogean, occupying the greater part of what is now
Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, as well as a large portion
of Tennessee, and including among its chief tribes the Choc-
taw, Chickasaw, Creek (or Muskhogee), Alabama, Apalachee,
and Seminole Indians. Probably the interesting Natchez of
northern Louisiana were an offshoot of the same stock. Two
other stocks or families of great territorial extent were the
Timuquanan tribes, occupying the major portion of the Flori-
dan peninsula, and the Caddoan tribes of Louisiana, Texas,
Arkansas, and Oklahoma. Of the beliefs of few aboriginal
peoples of North America is less known than of the Timu-
quanan Indians of Florida, so early and so entirely were they



54 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

destroyed; while the southern Caddo, by habit and thought,
are most properly to be regarded as a regional division of the
Great Plains tribes. Minor stocks are the Uchean of South
Carolina, early assimilated with the Muskhogean, and the
highly localized groups of the Louisiana and Texas littoral,
concerning whom our knowledge is slight. In the whole Gulf
region, it is the institutions and thought of the Muskhogeans
— with the culturally afElIated Cherokee — that are of domi-
nant importance and interest.

Historically, the Muskhogean tribes, in company with the
Cherokee of the Appalachian Mountain region, who were a
southern branch of the Iroquoian stock, form a group hardly
less important than the Confederacy of the north. The “Five
Civilized Tribes” of the Indian Territory, so recognized by
the United States Government, comprise the Cherokee, Chick-
asaw, Choctaw, Creek, and Seminole tribes, the major por-
tion of whom removed from their eastern lands between the
years 1832 and 1835 and established themselves in the Terri-
tory under treaty. In a series of patents to the several nations
of this group, given by the United States (1838 to the Chero-
kee, 1842 to the Choctaw, from whom the Chickasaw derived
their title, and 1852 to the Creek, who. In turn, conveyed
rights to the Seminole), these tribes received inalienable
titles to the lands into which they immigrated; and they ad-
vanced so rapidly in the direction of self-government and
stable organization, building towns, and encouraging and
developing industry, that they came to be known as “the five
civilized tribes,” in contrast to their less progressive brethren
of other stocks. The separate government of these tribes,
modelled upon that of the United States, but having only a
treaty relation with it, continued until, as the result of the
labours of a commission appointed by the United States Gov-
ernment, tribal rule was abolished. Accordingly, in 1906 and
1907, the Indians became citizens of the United States, and
their territories part of the state of Oklahoma.



THE GULF REGION


55


IL SUN-WORSHIP

It is not extraordinary that the Gulf-State region should
show throughout a predominance of solar worship. Every-
where in America the sun was one of the chief deities, and, in
general, his relative importance in an Indian pantheon is a
measure of civilization. In the forest and plains regions he is
likely to be subordinated to a still loftier sky-god, whose min-
ister he is; but as we go southward we find the sun assuming
the royal prerogative of the celestial universe, and advancing
to a place of supremacy among the world-powers.. Possibly,
this is in part due to the greater intensity of the southern sun,
but a more likely reason is the relative advance in agricul-
ture made by the southerly tribes. Hunting peoples are only
vaguely dependent upon the yearly course of the sun for their
food-supply, and hence they are only slightly observant of it.
Agricultural peoples are directly and insistently followers of
the sun’s movements; the solar calendar is the key to their
life; and consequently it is among them that the pre-eminence
of solar worship early appears. Proficiency in agriculture is a
mark of the Muskhogean and other southern Indians, and it
is to be expected that among them the sun will have become
an important world-power.

It is interesting to find that the Cherokee, an Iroquoian
tribe, assimilated their beliefs to the southern type. There is
little that is metaphysical in their pantheon. Above a horde of
animal-powers and fantastic sprites appear the great spirits
of the elements. Water, Fire, and the Sun, the chief of all.
The sun is called Unelanuhi, “the Apportioner,” in obvious
reference to its position as ruler of the year. Curiously enough,
the Cherokee sun is not a masculine, but, like the Eskimo sun,
a feminine being. Indeed, the Cherokee tell the selfsame story
which the Eskimo recount concerning the illicit relations of the
sun-girl and her moon-brother: how the unknown lover visited
the sun-girl every month, how she rubbed his face with ashes

X — 6



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


S6

that she might recognize him, and how, when discovered, “he
was so much ashamed to have her know it that he kept as
far away as he could at the other end of the sky; ever since he
tries to keep a long way behind the sun, and when he does some-
times have to come near her in the west he makes himself as
thin as a ribbon so that he can hardly be seen.” The Chero-
kee myth of the raising of the sun by the animal elders, hand-
breadth by handbreadth, until it was just under the sky-arch,
seven handbreadths high, is evidently akin to the similar legend
of the Navaho of the South-West; while the story of the two
boys who journeyed to the Sunrise, and the Cherokee version
of the myth of Prometheus — in which, after various other
animals have failed in their efforts to snatch fire from the sacred
sycamore in which Thunder had concealed it, the Water-Spider
succeeds — are both doublets of tales common in the far West.
Thus legends from all parts of the continent are gathered in
the one locality.

Like the Cherokee, the Yuchi Indians, who were closely
associated with the Creek politically, regarded the sun as a
female. She was the ancestress of the human race, or, accord-
ing to another story, the Yuchi sprang from the blood trickling
from the head of a wizard who was decapitated when he at-
tempted to kill the sun at its rising — a tale in which the head
would seem to be merely a doublet of the sun itself. Among
the Muskhogean tribes generally the sun-cult seems to have
been closely associated with fire-making festivals and fire-tem-
ples, in forms strikingly like those of the Incas of Peru. Per-
haps the earliest account is that preserved, with respect to
the Natchez, by Lafitau, in his Mesurs des sauvages ameri-
quains, i. 167-68:

“In Louisiana the Natchez have a temple wherein without
cessation watch is kept of the perpetual fire, of which great
care is taken that it be never extinguished. Three pointed
sticks suffice to maintain it, which number is never either in-
creased or diminished — which seems to indicate some mys-




PLATE XII


Florida Indians offering a stag to the Sun. The
drawing is from Picart {Ceremonies and religious CuS'-
toms of the various Nations of the known IV or Id ^ Lon-
don, 1733-39, iii, Plate LXXIV [lower]), and
represents a seventeenth century European conception
of an American Indian rite. The pole is a symbol
in the sun-worship of many Plains and Southern
Indians.






THE GULF REGION


57


tery. As they burn, they are advanced into the fire, until It
becomes necessary to substitute others. It is in this temple that
the bodies of their chiefs and their families are deposited. The
chief goes every day at certain hours to the entrance of the
temple, where, bending low and extending his arms in the
form of a cross, he mutters confusedly without pronouncing
any distinct word; this is the token of duty which he renders
to the Sun as the author of his being. His subjects observe
the same ceremony with respect to him and with respect to
all the princes of his blood, whenever they speak to them,
honouring In them, by this external sign of respect, the Sun
from which they believe them to be descended. ... It is
singular that, while the huts of the Natchez are round, their
temple is long — quite the opposite of those of Vesta. On the
roof at its two extremities are to be seen two images of eagles,
a bird consecrated to the Sun among the Orientals as it was to
Jupiter in all the Occident.

“The Oumas and some peoples of Virginia and of Florida
also have temples and almost the same religious observances.
Those of Virginia have even an Idol which they name Oki or
Kiousa, which keeps watch of the dead. I have heard say,
moreover, that the Oumas, since the arrival of the French who
profaned their temple, have allowed It to fall into ruin and
have not taken the trouble to restore it.”

III. THE NEW MAIZE®*

The most famous and interesting ceremony of the Mus-
khogean tribes is that which has come to be known in English
as “the Busk” (a corruption of the Creek puskita, meaning
“fast”). This was a celebration at the time of the first ma-
turing of the maize, in July or August, according to locality,
though it had the deeper significance of a New Year’s feast,
and hence of the rejuvenation of all life.

In the Creek towns, the Busk was held in the “great house,”



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


S8

which consisted of four rectangular lodges, each divided into
three compartments, and all open-faced toward a central
square, or plaza, which they served to bound. The lodges were
fitted with banks of seats, and each compartment was assigned
to its own class of men. The place of honour (in some towns at
least) was the western lodge, open to the morning sun, where
was the seat of the head chief. In the centre of the square was
kept burning a fire, made from four logs oriented to the four
cardinal points. The structure is highly suggestive of a kind of
temple of the year, the central fire being the symbol of the sun
and of the four-square universe, and the twelve compartments
of the lodges perhaps indicative of the year’s lunations. Al-
though the Busk was not a festival of the summer solstice, it
came, none the less, at the season of the hottest sun, and so
marked a natural change in the year.

The Busk occupies four days in the lesser towns, eight in the
greater; and the ceremony seems to have four significant parts,
the eight-day form being only a lengthening of the performance.
On the first day, all the fires of the village having been pre-
viously extinguished, a new fire is kindled by friction, and fed
by the four logs oriented to the cardinal points. Into this fire
is cast a first-fruits’ offering, consisting of four ears of the newly
ripened maize and four branches of the cassine shrub. Dances
and purificatory ceremonies occupy the day. On the second
day the women prepare new maize for the coming feast, while
the warriors purge themselves with “war physic,” and bathe
in running water. The third day is apparently a time of vigil
for the older men, while the younger men hunt in preparation
for the coming feast. During these preliminary days the sexes
are tabu to one another, and all fast. The festival ends with
a feast and merry-making, accompanied by certain curious
ceremonies, such as the brewing of medicine from a great vari-
ety of plants, offerings of tobacco to the cardinal points, and a
significant rite, described as follows:

“At the miko’s cabin a cane having two white feathers on its



THE GULF REGION


59


end is stuck out. At the moment when the sun sets, a man of
the fish gens takes it down, and walks, followed by all spec-
tators, toward the river. Having gone half way, he utters the
death-whoop, and repeats it four times before he reaches the
water’s edge. After the crowd has thickly congregated at the
bank, each person places a grain of ‘old man’s tobacco’ on
the head and others in each ear. Then, at a signal repeated
four times, they throw some of it into the river, and every
man, at a like signal, plunges into the water to pick up four
stones from the bottom. With these they cross themselves on
their breasts four times, each time throwing one of the stones
back into the river and uttering the death-whoop. Then they
wash themselves, take up the cane with the feathers, return
to the great house, where they stick it up, then walk through
the town visiting.”

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« on: August 03, 2019, 07:50:52 PM »

THE FOREST TRIBES


41


The story is recorded by Father De Smet: “A great manitou
came on earth, and chose a wife from among the children of
men. He had four sons at a birth; the first-born was called
Nanaboojoo, the friend of the human race, the mediator be-
tween man and the Great Spirit; the second was named
Chipiapoos, the man of the dead, who presides over the coun-
try of the souls; the third, Wabasso, as soon as he saw the
light, fled toward the north where he was changed into a white
rabbit, and under that name is considered there as a great
manitou; the fourth was Chakekenapok, the man of flint, or
fire-stone. In coming into the world he caused the death of
his mother.” The tale goes on to tell the deeds of Nanaboojoo.
(l) To avenge his mother he pursues Chakekenapok and slays
him: “all fragments broken from the body of this man of
stone then grew up into large rocks; his entrails were changed
into vines of every species, and took deep root in all the for-
ests; the flintstones scattered around the earth indicate where
the different combats took place.”®® (2) Chipiapoos, the
beloved brother of Nanaboojoo, venturing one day upon the
ice, was dragged to the bottom by malignant manitos, where-
upon Nanaboojoo hurled multitudes of these beings into the
deepest abyss. For six years he mourned Chipiapoos, but at
the end of that time four of the oldest and wisest of the mani-
tos, by their medicine, healed him of his grief. “The mani-
tous brought back the lost Chipiapoos, but it was forbidden
him to enter the lodge; he received, through a chink, a burning
coal, and was ordered to go and preside over the region of
souls, and there, for the happiness of his uncles and aunts,
that is, for all men and women, who should repair thither,
kindle with this coal a fire which should never be extinguished.”
Nanaboojoo then initiated all his family into the mysteries
of the medicine which the manitos had brought. (3) After-
ward Nanaboojoo created the animals, put the earth, roots,
and herbs in charge of his grandmother, and placed at the four
cardinal points the spirits that control the seasons and the



42


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


heavenly bodies, while in the clouds he set the Thunderbirds,
his intermediaries.^^


III. THE DELUGE«

The second of these episodes of the Potawatomi legend, in
its more universal form, is the tale identified by the Jesuit
Fathers as a reminiscence of the Biblical Deluge. In his
Relation of 1633, Le Jeune gives the Montagnais version:

‘'They say that there is one named Messou, who restored
the world when It was lost in the waters. . . . This Messou,
going hunting with lynxes, instead of dogs, was warned that it
would be dangerous for his lynxes (which he called his brothers)
in a certain lake near the place where he was. One day as
he was hunting an elk, his lynxes gave it chase even into the
lake; and when they reached the middle of it, they were sub-
merged in an instant. When he arrived there and sought his
brothers everywhere, a bird told him that it had seen them at
the bottom of the lake, and that certain animals or monsters
held them there; but immediately the lake overflowed, and
increased so prodigiously that it inundated and drowned the
whole earth. The Messou, very much astonished, gave up all
thought of his lynxes, to meditate on creating the world anew.
He sent a raven to find a small piece of earth with which to
build up another world. The raven was unable to find any,
everything being covered with water. He made an otter dive
down, but the depth of the water prevented it from going to
the bottom. At last a muskrat descended, and brought
back some earth. With this bit of earth, he restored every-
thing to its condition. He remade the trunks of the trees,
and shot arrows against them, which were changed into
branches. It would be a long story to recount how he re-
established everything; how he took vengeance on the mon-
sters that had taken his hunters, transforming himself into a
thousand kinds of animals to circumvent them. In short,



THE FOREST TRIBES


43

the great Restorer, having married a little muskrat, had chil-
dren who repeopled the world.”

The Menominee divide the story. They tell how Moqwaio,
the Wolf, brother of Manabush, was pulled beneath the ice
of a lake by the malignant Anamaqkiu and drowned; how
Manabush mourned four days, and on the fifth day met the
shade of his brother, whom he then sent to the place of the
setting sun to have care of the dead, and to build there a
fire to guide them thither. The account of the deluge, how-
ever, comes in connexion with the conflict of the Thunderers,
under the direction of Manabush who is bent on avenging his
brother, and the Anamaqkiu, led by two Bear chiefs. Mana-
bush, by guile, succeeded in slaying the Bears, whereupon the
Anamaqkiu pursued him with a great flood. He ascended a
mountain, and then to the top of a gigantic pine; and as the
waters increased he caused this tree to grow to twice , its height.
Four times the pine doubled in altitude, but still the flood
rose to the armpits of Manabush, when the Great Spirit made
the deluge to cease. Manabush causes the Otter, the Beaver,
the Mink, and the Muskrat, in turn, to dive in search of a
grain of earth with which he can restore the world. The first
three rise to the top, belly uppermost, dead; but the Muskrat
succeeds, and the earth is created anew.

A third version of the deluge-myth tells how the Great Hare,
with the other animals, was on a raft in the midst of the waters.
Nothing could be seen save waterfowl. The Beaver dived,
seeking a grain of soil; for the Great Hare assured the ani-
mals that with even one grain he could create land. Neverthe-
less, almost dead, the Beaver returned unsuccessful. Then the
Muskrat tried, and he was gone nearly a whole day. When he
reappeared, apparently dead, his four feet were tight-clenched;
but in one of them was a single grain of sand, and from this
the earth was made, in the form of a mountain surrounded by
water, the height ever increasing, even to this day, as the
Great Hare courses around it.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


44

It is obvious that in this chaotic flood we have an Indian
equivalent of “the waters below the firmament” in the midst
of which, according to the Hebrew genesis, the dry land
appeared. And the Indians, like the Semites, conceived the
world to be a mountain, rising from the waste of cosmic
waters, and arched by the celestial dome. “They believe,”
says the author of the Relation of 1637, “that the earth is
entirely flat, and that its ends are cut off perpendicularly;
that souls go away to the end which is at the setting Sun
and that they build their cabins upon the edge of the great
precipice which the earth forms, at the base of which there
is nothing but water.”

IV. THE SLAYING OF THE DRAGON

The deeds of the Great Hare include many contests with
the giants, cannibals, and witches who people Algonquian
folk-tales. In these he displays adept powers as a trickster
and master of wile, as well as a stout warrior. The conflict with
Flint turns, as in the Iroquois tradition, upon a tricky dis-
covery of what substance is deadly to the Fire-Stone Man:
Flint asks the Hare what can hurt him; he replies, the cat’s-
tail, or featherdown, or something of the sort, and, in turn,
puts the question to Flint, who truthfully answers, “the horn
of the stag”; and it is with stag’s horn that the Hare fractures
and flakes his body — a mythic reminiscence, we may suppose,
of the great primitive industry of flint-flaking by aid of a
horn implement.

The great feat of the Hare as a slayer, however, was his
destruction of the monstrous Fish or Snake which oppressed
and devoured men and animals. This creature like the Teu-
tonic Grendel was a water monster, and ruler of the Powers of
the Deep.® Sometimes, as in the Iroquoian myth, he is a
horned serpent; commonly, among the Algonquians, he is a
great fish — the sturgeon which swallows Hiawatha. The




PLATE X

Onondaga wampum belt believed to commemorate
the formation of a league (possibly the Iroquois Con-
federacy) or an early treaty with the Thirteen Colonies
(there are thirteen figures of men). After JRBEj
p. 252.






THE FOREST TRIBES 45

Menominee tell how the people were greatly distressed by
Mashenomak, the aquatic monster who devoured fishermen.
Manabush allows himself to be swallowed by the gigantic
creature, inside of which he finds his brothers, the Bear, the
Deer, the Raven, the Pine-Squirrel, and many others. They
all hold a war-dance in the monster’s maw, and when Mana-
bush circles past the heart he thrusts his knife into it, causing
Mashenomak to have a convulsion; finally, he lies motionless,
and Manabush cuts his way through to the day. In another
version, Misikinebik, the monster who has destroyed the
brother of Manabush, is slain by the hero in the same fashion.
The Micmac, who live beside the sea, make the great fish to
be a whale, who is a servant rather than a foe of Glooscap,
and upon whose back he is carried when he goes in search of
his stolen brother and grandmother. The Clams (surely tame
substitutes for water demons!) sing to the Whale to drown
Glooscap; but she fails to understand them, and is beached
through his trickery. “Alas, my grandchild!” she lamented,
“you have been my death. I can never get out of this.”
“Never you mind, Noogumee,” said Glooscap, “I’ll set you
right.” And with a push he sends her far out to sea. It is
evident that the legend has passed through a long descent!

In his war against the underwater manitos, the assistants
of the Great Hare are the Thunderbirds. In the Iroquoian
version it is the Thunderboy who is swallowed by the horned
water-snake, from whose maw he is rescued by Thunder and
his warriors — as in the Hiawatha story it is the gulls who re-
lease the prisoner from the sturgeon’s belly in which he has
been engulfed as a consequence of his rash ambition to con-
quer the ruler of the depths. The myth has many variants
however, and while it may sometimes represent the storm
goading to fury the man-devouring waters, in a more uni-
versal mode it would seem to be but an American version of
the world-old conception of the conquest of the watery Chaos
by the creative genius of Light.



46


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


V. THE THEFT OF FIRE«

The conquest of fire by man deservedly ranks among the
most impressive of all race-memories, for perhaps no one nat-
ural agency has done so much to exalt the potency of the human
race as has that which gives us heat and light and power.
Mythic imagination everywhere ascribes a divine origin to
fire; the heaven, or some other remote region over which
guardian powers preside, is the source of this great agency,
from which — as in the Greek tale of Prometheus — it is
“stolen in the pith” and borne among men to alleviate their
estate.

In Algonquian myth the Great Hare, here as elsewhere, is
“the benefactor of mankind.” A Menominee version begins
quite naively; “Manabush, when he was still a youth, once
said to his grandmother Nokomis, ‘Grandmother, it is cold
here and we have no fire; let me go to get some.’” Nokomis
endeavours to dissuade him, but the young hero, in his canoe,
starts eastward across the waters to an island where dwells
the old man who has fire. “This old man had two daughters,
who, when they emerged from the sacred wigwam, saw a little
Rabbit, wet and cold, and carefully taking it up they carried
it into the sacred wigwam, where they set it down near the
fire to warm.” When the watchers are occupied, the Rabbit
seizes a burning brand and scurries to his canoe, pursued by
the old man and his daughters. “The velocity of the canoe
caused such a current of air that the brand began to burn
fiercely”; and thus fire is brought to Nokomis. “The Thun-
derers received the fire from Nokomis, and have had the care
of it ever since.”

It is not difficult to see in the old man across the Eastern
waters a Sun-God, nor in the sacred wigwam with its maiden
watchers a temple of fire with its Vestals. “Fire,” says De
Smet, “is, in all the Indian tribes that I have known, an em-
blem of happiness or good fortune.” It is the emblem of life,



THE FOREST TRIBES


47


too. Said a Chippewa prophet: “The fire must never be suf-
fered to go out in your lodge. Summer and winter, day and
night, in storm or when it is calm, you must remember that
the life in your body and the fire in your lodge are the same
and of the same date. If you suffer your fire to be extinguished,
at that moment your life will be at its end.” Even in the
other world, fire is the source of life; there Chibiabos keeps the
sacred fire that lights the dead thither; and, says De Smet,
“ to see a fire rising mysteriously, in their dreams or otherwise,
is the symbol of the passage of a soul into the other world.”
He narrates, in this connexion, the fine Chippewa legend of
a chief, arrow-stricken in the moment of victory, whose body
was left, in all its war-panoply, facing the direction of the
enemy’s retreat. On the long homeward return of the war-
party, the chief’s spirit accompanies the warriors and tries to
assure them that he is not dead, but present with them;
even when the home village is reached and he hears his deeds
lauded, he is unable to make his presence known; he cannot
console his mourning father; his mother will not dress his
wounds; and when he shouts in the ear of his wife, “I am
thirsty! I am hungry!” she hears only a vague rumbling.
Then he remembers having heard how the soul sometimes for-
sakes its body, and he retraces the long journey to the field of
battle. As he nears it, a fire stands directly in his path. He
changes his course, but the fire moves as he does; he goes to
the right, to the left, but the spirit-fire still bars his way. At
last, in desperate resolution, he cries out: “I also, I am a spirit;
I am seeking to return to my body; I will accomplish my de-
sign. Thou wilt purify me, but thou shalt not hinder the
realization of my project. I have always conquered my ene-
mies, notwithstanding the greatest obstacles. This day I will
triumph over thee, Spirit of Fire!” With an intense effort he
darts through the mysterious flame, and his body, to which
the soul is once more united, awakens from its long trance on
the field of battle.*®



48


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


VI. SUN-MYTHS

The Old Man and the Maids from whom Manabush steals
the fire belong to the Wabanunaqsiwok, the Dawn-People,
who dress in red; and, should a man or a woman dream of the
Dawn-People, he or she must forthwith prepare a ball game.
This, it is said, was instituted by Manabush in celebration of
his victory over the malignant manitos; he made Kineun,
the Golden Eagle and Chief of the Thunderers, leader of one
side, and Owasse, the Bear and Chief of the Underground
People, leader of the other; “ but the Thunderers always win
the game, even though the sky be darkened by cloud and rain.^®

It is easy to recognize in the ball, which bears the colours
of the East and the West, red and yellow, a symbol of the
Sun; and in this myth (as in the Iroquois legend of the rape
of the Sun) “ to see a story of the ceaseless conflict of Day
and Night, with Day the eternal conqueror. Sun-symbolism,
also, seems to underlie the tale of Ball-Carrier, i® the boy who
was lured away by an old witch who possessed a magic ball
that returned of itself to her wigwam when a child pursued it,
and who was sent by her in search of the gold (Sunlight) and
the magic bridge (Rainbow) in the lodge of a giant beyond
the waters. Ball-Carrier, who is a kind of Indian Jack the
Giant-Killer, steals the gold and the bridge, and after many
amazing adventures and transformations returns to his home.

A similar, perhaps identical, character is the Tchakabech of
Le Jeune’s Relation of 1637.^ Tchakabech is a Dwarf, whose
parents have been devoured by a Bear (the Underworld Chief)
and a Great Hare, the Genius of Light. He decided to ascend
to the Sky and climbed upward on a tree, which grew as he
breathed upon it, until he reached the heavens, where he found
the loveliest country in the world. He returned to the lower
world, building lodges at intervals in the branches of the
tree, and induced his sister to mount with him to the Sky;
but the little child of the sister broke off the end of the tree,



THE FOREST TRIBES


49


just low enough so that no one could follow them to their des-
tination. Tchakabech snared the Sun in a net; during its cap-
tivity there was no day below on earth; but by the aid of a
mouse who sawed the strands with his sharp teeth, he was at
last able to release the Sun and restore the day. In the Menom-
inee version recorded by Hoffman, the snare is made by a
noose of the sister’s hair, and the Sun is set free by the un-
aided efforts of the Mouse.

In these shifting stories we see the image of changing Na-
ture — Day and Night, Sunlight and Darkness, the Heavens
above and the Earth beneath, coupled with a vague appre-
hension of the Life that Is in all things, and a dim effort to
grasp the origins of the world.

VII. THE VILLAGE OF SOULS

The Great Hare, the Algonquians say, departed, after his
labours, to the far West, where he dwells in the Village of
Souls with his Grandmother and his Brother. Perrot tells of
an Indian who had wandered far from his own country, en-
countering a man so tall that he could not descry his head.
The trembling hunter hid himself, but the giant said: “My
son, why art thou afraid? I am the Great Hare, he who has
caused thee and many others to be born from the dead bodies
of various animals. Now I will give thee a companion.” Ac-
cordingly, he bestowed a wife on the man, and then continued,
“Thou, man, shalt hunt, and make canoes, and do all things
that a man must do; and thou, woman, shalt do the cooking
for thy husband, make his shoes, dress the skins of animals,
sew, and perform all the tasks that are proper for a woman.”
Le Jeune relates another tale: how “a certain savage had re-
ceived from Messou the gift of immortality in a little package,
with a strict injunction not to open it; while he kept it closed
he was immortal, but his wife, being curious and incredulous,
wished to see what was inside this present; and having opened



50 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

it, it all flew away, and since then the savages have been
subject to death.” Thus, in the New World as in the Old,
woman’s curiosity is mankind’s bane.^®

245
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:49:21 PM »


THE FOREST TRIBES


31


tenance is mainly obtained by the chase: for them, the open
and closed, the green and the white, are the important divi-
sions of the year. The Iroquois say that Winter is an old
man of the woods, who raps the trees with his war-club: in
very cold weather one can hear the sharp sound of his blows;
while Spring is a lithe young warrior, with the sun in his
countenance. The Montagnais were not sure whether the two
Seasons were manlike, but they told Pere Le Jeune that they
were very sure that Nipin and Pipoun were living beings:
they could even hear them talking and rustling, especially at
their coming. “For their dwelling-place they share the world
between them, the one keeping upon the one side, the other
upon the other; and when the period of their stay at one end
of the world has expired, each goes over to the locality of the
other, reciprocally succeeding each other. Here we have, in
part, the fable of Castor and Pollux,” comments the good
Father. “When Nipinoukhe returns, he brings back with him
the heat, the birds, the verdure, and restores life and beauty
to the world; but Pipounoukhe lays waste everything, being
accompanied by the cold winds, ice, snows, and other phenom-
ena of Winter. They call this succession of one to the other
Achitescatoueth; meaning that they pass reciprocally to each
other’s places.” Perhaps as charming a myth of the seasons
as could be found is the Cherokee tale of “ the Bride from the
South.” The North falls in love with the daughter of the South,
and in response to his ardent wooings is allowed to carry her
away to his Northland, where the people all live in ice houses.
But the next day, when the sun rises, the houses begin to
melt, and the people tell the North that he must send the
daughter of the South to her native land, for her whole nature
is warm and unfit for the North.

But it is especially in the world of animals that the spirits
of the Kinds are important.^® “They say,” says Le Jeune,
speaking of these same Montagnais (whose beliefs, in this
respect, are typical), “that all animals, of every species, have



32


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


an elder brother, who is, as it were, the source and origin of all
individuals, and this elder brother is wonderfully great and
powerful. The elder of the Beaver, they tell me, is perhaps as
large as our cabin, although his Junior (I mean the ordinary
Beaver) is not quite as large as our sheep. ... If anyone,
when asleep, sees the elder or progenitor of some animals, he
will have a fortunate chase; if he sees the elder of the Beavers,
he will take Beavers; if he sees the elder of the Elks, he will
take Elks, possessing the juniors through the favor of their
senior whom he has seen in the dream. I asked them where
these elder brothers were. ‘We are not sure,’ they answered me,
‘but we think the elders of the birds are in the sky, and that
the elders of the other animals are in the water.’ ” In another
connexion the Father tells the following story, which he had
from a Montagnais: “A man, having traveled a long distance,
at last reached the Cabin or house of God, as he named him
who gave him something to eat. . . . All kinds of animals
surround him [the god], he touches them, handles them as he
wishes, and they do not fly from him; but he does them no
harm, for, as he does not eat, he does not kill them. However,
he asked this new guest what he would like to eat, and having
learned that he would relish a beaver, he caught one without
any trouble, and had him eat it; then asked him when he in-
tended going away. ‘In two nights,’ was the answer. ‘Good,’
said he, ‘you will remain two nights with me.’ These two
nights were two years ; for what we call a year is only a day or
a night in the reckoning of him who procures us food. And
one is so contented with him that two winters, or two years,
seem only like two nights. When he returned to his own coun-
try he was greatly astonished at the delay he had experienced.”
The god of the cabin is, no doubt, Messou (Manabozho),
the Algonquian demiurge, for he is “elder brother to all
beasts” and the ruler of animal life. Similarly, the Iroquoian
demiurge louskeha is the bringer and namer of the primal
animals: “They believe that animals were not at liberty from



THE FOREST TRIBES


33


the beginning of the world, but that they were shut up in a
great cavern where louskeha guarded them. Perhaps there
may be in that some allusion to the fact that God brought all
the animals to Adam,” adds Pere Brebeuf; and in the Seneca
version of the Iroquoian genesis, the youth who brings the
animals from the cavern of the Winds does, in fact, perform
the office of Adam, giving them their several names.



CHAPTER III


THE FOREST TRIBES

{Continued)

L IROQUOIAN COSMOGONY‘5

T he Onondaga version of the genesis-myth of the Iro-
quois, as recorded by Hewitt, begins in this fashion:
“He who was my grandfather was wont to relate that,
verily, he had heard the legend as it was customarily told by
five generations of grandsires, and this is what he himself was
in the habit of telling. He customarily said ; Man-beings dwell
in the sky, on the farther side of the visible sky. The lodges
they severally possess are customarily long [the Iroquoian
“long house,” or lodge]. In the end of the lodges there are
spread out strips of rough bark whereon lie the several mats.
There it is that, verily, all pass the night. Early in the morning
the warriors are in the habit of going to hunt and, as is their
custom, they return every evening.”

This heaven above the visible heavens, which has existed
from eternity, is the prototype of the world in which we
dwell; and in it is set the first act of the cosmic drama. Sorrow
and death were unknown there; it was a land of tranquil abun-
dance. It came to pass that a girl-child was bom of a celestial
maid, her father having sickened and died — the first death
in the universe — shortly before she was bom. He had been
placed, as he had directed, on a burial scaffold by the Ancient-
Bodied One, grandmother to the child; and thither the girl-
child was accustomed to go and converse with the dead parent.
When she was grown, he directed her to take a certain journey
through the heaven realm of Chief He-Holds-the-Earth, whom



THE FOREST TRIBES


35


she was to marry, and beside whose lodge grew the great
heaven tree.^^ The maiden crosses a river on a maple-log,
avoids various tempters, and arrives at the lodge, where the
chief subjects her to the ordeals of stirring scalding mush
which spatters upon her naked body and of having her burns
licked by rasp-tongued dogs. Having successfully endured
these pains, he sends her, after three nights, to her own people,
with the gift of maize and venison. She returns to her chief,
and he, observing that she is pregnant, becomes ill with an
unjustified jealousy of the Fire-Dragon. She gives birth to
a daughter, Gusts-of-Wind; whereupon the chief receives
visits from the Elders of the Kinds, which dwell in heaven,
among them being the Deer, the Bear, the Beaver; Wind,
Daylight, Night, Star; the Squash, the Maize, the Bean; the
Turtle, the Otter, the Yellowhammer; Fire, Water, Medicine,
— patterns of the whole furniture of creation. Aurora Borealis
divines what is troubling his mind, and suggests the uprooting
of the heaven tree. This is done, and an abyss is disclosed,
looking down into a chaos of Wind and Thick Night — “the
aspect was green and nothing else in color,” says the Seneca
version. Through this opening the Chief of Heaven casts his
spouse and the child, who returns again into the body of her
mother, first providing her with maize and venison and a fag-
got of wood, while the Fire-Dragon wraps around her a great
ray of light.

Here ends the Upper World act of the drama. The name
of the woman-being who is cast down from heaven is, as we
know from the Jesuit Relations, Ataentsic or Ataensic,'^ who
is to become the great Earth Mother. The Chief of Heaven
is her spouse, — so that these two great actors in the world
drama are Earth and Sky respectively; while their first-born
is the Breath-of-Life.

The second act of the drama is set in the World Below.
The Onondaga myth continues:

“So now, v6rily, her body continued to fall. Her body was



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


36

falling some time before it emerged. Now she was surprised,
seemingly, that there was light below, of a blue color. She
looked and there seemed to be a lake at the spot toward which
she was falling. There was nowhere any earth. There she saw
many ducks on the lake where they, being waterfowl of all
their kinds, floated severally about. Without interruption the
body of the woman-being continued to fall.

“Now at that time the waterfowl called the Loon shouted,
saying: ‘Do ye look, a woman-being is coming in the depths of
the water, her body is floating up hither.’ They said: ‘Verily,
it is even so.’

“Now in a short time the waterfowl called Bittern said:
‘ It is true that ye believe that her body is floating up from the
depths of the water. Do ye, however, look upward.’ All
looked up, and all said: ‘Verily, it is true.’

“One of the persons said: ‘It seems, then, that there must
be land in the depths of the water.’ At that time the Loon
said:. ‘Moreover, let us first seek to find some one who will
be able to bear the earth on his back by means of the forehead
pack strap.’”

All the animals volunteer. Otter and Turtle attempt the
feat and fail; the Muskrat succeeds, placing the soil brought
up from below on the back of the Turtle. “Now at this time
the carapace began to grow and the earth with which they
had covered it became the Solid Land.” Upon this land
Ataentsic alights, her fall being broken by the wings of the
fowl which fly upward to meet her.^°

On the growing Earth Gusts-of-Wind is reborn, and comes
to maturity. She receives the visits of a nocturnal stranger,
who is none other than the ruler of the winds, and gives birth
to twins ^ — Sapling and Flint, the Yoskeha and Tawiscara
of the Relations^ — who show their enmity by a pre-natal
quarrel, and cause their mother’s death in being born. From
the body of her daughter Ataentsic fashions the sun and the
moon, though she does not raise them to the heavens. Sapling



THE FOREST TRIBES


37

she casts out, for Flint falsely persuades her that it is Sapling
who is responsible for their mother’s death.

The third act of the drama details the creative acts of Sap-
ling and Flint, and their enmities. Sapling (better known as
Yoskeha, though his most ancient title seems to be Teha-
ronhiawagon, He-Holds-the-Sky) is the demiurge and earth-
shaper, and the spirit of life and summer. Flint, or Tawiscara,
is an imitator and trickster, maker of malevolent beings, and
spirit of wintry forces, but the favourite of Ataentsic.®®

The act opens with the visit of Sapling to his father, the
WindrRuler, who gives him presents of bow and arrows and
of maize, symbolizing mastery over animal and vegetable food.
The preparation of the maize is his first feat, Ataentsic ren-
dering his work imperfect by casting ashes upon it: “The way
in which thou hast done this is not good,” says Sapling, “for
I desire that the man-beings shall be exceedingly happy, who
are about to dwell here on this earth.” Next he brings forth
the souls of the animal kinds, and moulds the traits of the dif-
ferent animals.^^ Flint, however, imprisons them in a cavern,
and, although Sapling succeeds in releasing most of them, some
remain behind to become transformed into the noxious crea-
tures of the underworld. Afterward, in a trial of strength.
Sapling overcomes the humpback Hadui, who is the cause of
disease and decrepitude, but from whom Sapling wins the
secret of medicine and of the ceremonial use of tobacco. The
giving of their courses to the Sun and the Moon, fashioned
from his mother’s head and body by Ataentsic, was his next
deed.^® The grandmother and Flint had concealed these bodies
and had left the earth in darkness ; Sapling, aided by four ani-
mals, typifying the Four Quarters, steals back the Sun, which
is passed from animal to animal (as in the Greek torch-race in
honour of Selene) when they are pursued by Ataentsic and
Flint. The creation of man, which Flint imitates only to pro-
duce monsters, and the banishment of Flint to the under-
world complete the creative drama.



38 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

“Moreover, it is said that this Sapling, in the manner in
which he has life, has this to befall him recurrently, that he
becomes old in body, and that when, in fact, his body becomes
ancient normally, he then retransforms his body in such wise
that he becomes a new man-being again and again recovers
his youth, so that one would think that he had just grown to
the size which a man-being customarily has when he reaches
the youth of man-beings, as manifested by the change of voice
at puberty. Moreover, it is so that continuously the orenda
immanent in his body — the orenda with which he suffuses
his person, the orenda which he projects or exhibits, through
which he is possessed of force and potency — is ever full, un-
diminished, and all-sufficient; and, in the next place, nothing
that is otkon or deadly, nor, in the next place, even the Great
Destroyer, otkon in itself and faceless, has any effect on him,
he being perfectly immune to its orenda; and, in the next place,
there is nothing that can bar his way or veil his faculties.”

In the Relation of 1636 Brebeuf says of the Hurons: “If
they see their fields verdant in the spring, if they reap good
and abundant harvests, and if their cabins are crammed with
ears of corn, they owe it to louskeha. I do not know what God
has in store for us this year; but . . . louskeha, it is reported
has been seen quite dejected, and thin as a skeleton, with a
poor ear of corn in his hand.”

II. ALGONQUIAN COSMOGONY^®

As compared with the Iroquoian cosmogony, that of the
Algonquian tribes is nebulous and confused: their gods are
less anthropomorphic, more prone to animal form; the order
of events is not so clearly defined. There is hardly a person-
age or event in the Iroquoian story that does not appear in
Algonquian myth, and indeed the Algonquians would seem
to have been the originators, or at least the earlier possessors,
of these stories; yet the same power for organization which




PLATE IX


Iroquois drawing of Stone Giants. After School-
craft, Indian Tribes^ part i, Plate LXXIIL The
Stone (JiantsS are related to such cosniogonical beings
as Flint (Tawiscara) and Chakekenapok (sec pp. 36,
41). They are generally malevolent in character.
See Note 38 (pp. 291-92),






THE FOREST TRIBES


39


is reflected in the Iroquoian Confederacy appears in the Iro-
quois’s more masterful assimilation and depiction of the cosmic
story which he seems to have borrowed from his Algonquian
neighbours.

The central personage of Algonquian myth is Manabozho,^^
the Great Hare (also known by many other names and variants,
as Nanibozho, Manabush, Michabo, Messou, Glooscap), who
is the incarnation of vital energy: creator or restorer of the
earth, the author of life, giver of animal food, lord of bird and
beast. Brinton, by a dubious etymology, would make the
original meaning of the name to be “the Great White One,”
identifying Manabozho with the creative light of day; but if
we remember that the Algonquians are, by their own tradi-
tion, sons of the frigid North,^^ where the hare is one of the
most prolific and staple of all food animals, and if we bear
in mind the universal tendency of men whose sustenance is
precarious to identify the source of life with their principal
source of food, it is no longer plausible to question the identi-
fication, which the Indians themselves make, of their great
demiurge with the Elder of the Hares, who is also the Elder
Brother of Man and of all life.'^*

With Manabozho is intimately associated his grandmother,
Nokomis, the Earth, and his younger brother, Chibiabos,
who himself is customarily in animal form (e. g., the Micmac
know the pair as Glooscap and the Marten; to the Montag-
nais they were Messou and the Lynx; to the Menominee,
Manabush and the Wolf).'*^ This younger brother is sometimes
represented as a twin; and it is not difficult to see in Noko-
mis, Manabozho, and Chibiabos the Algonquian prototypes
of the Huron Ataentsic, louskeha, and Tawiscara.

Various tales are told as to the origin of the Great Hare.
The Micmac declare that Glooscap was one of twins, who
quarrelled before being born; and that the second twin killed
the mother in his birth, in revenge for which Glooscap slew
him. The Menominee say: “The daughter of Nokomis, the

X— s



40


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


Earth, is the mother of Manabush, who is also the Fire. The
Flint grew up out of Nokomis, and was alone. Then the Flint
made a bowl and dipped it into the earth; slowly the bowlful
of earth became blood, and it began to change its form. So
the blood was changed into Wabus, the Rabbit. The Rabbit
grew into human form, and in time became a man, and thus
was Manabush formed.” According to another version, the
daughter of Nokomis gave birth to twins, one of whom died,
as did the mother. Nokomis placed a wooden bowl (and we
must remember that this is a symbol of the heavens) over the
remaining child for its protection; upon removing the bowl,
she beheld a white rabbit with quivering ears: “0 my dear
little Rabbit,” she cried, “my Manabush!”

Other tribes tell how the Great Hare came to earth as a gift
from the Great Spirit. The Chippewa recognize, high over
all, Kitshi Manito, the Great Spirit, and next in rank Dzhe
Manito, the Good Spirit, whose servant is Manabozho. The
abode of all these is the Upper World. “When Minabozho,
the servant of Dzhe Manido, looked down upon the earth he
beheld human beings, the Anishinabeg, the ancestors of the
Ojibwa. They occupied the four quarters of the earth —
the northeast, the southeast, the southwest, and the north-
west. He saw how helpless they were, and desiring to give
them the means of warding off the diseases with which
they were constantly afflicted, and to provide them with
animals and plants to serve as food, Minabozho remained
thoughtfully hovering over the center of the earth, endeavor-
ing to devise some means of communicating with them.” Be-
neath Minabozho was a lake of waters, wherein he beheld an
Otter, which appeared at each of the cardinal points in suc-
cession and then approached the centre, where Minabozho de-
scended (upon an island) to meet it and where he instructed it
in the mysteries of the Midewiwin, the sacred Medicine Society.

According to the Potawatomi, also, the Great Hare appears
as the founder of a sacred mystery and the giver of medicine.



246
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:48:42 PM »



PLATE VI

Chippewa side pouch ot black dressed buckskin
ornamented with red, blue, and yellow quill-work.
The two large birds represented are Thunderbirds.
Specimen in the Peabody Museum, Cambridge, Massa-
chusetts. Sec Note 32 (pp. 287-88), and compare
Plates III, XVI, and Figure i.




i i*'"


li'-\







THE FOREST TRIBES


23


aelow — the powers that send upward the fructifying springs
ind break forth as spirits of life in Earth’s verdure. Further,
Doth the realms above and the realms below are habitations
for the souls of departed men; for to the Indian death is only a
:hange of life.

The Chippewa believe that there are four “layers,” or
storeys, of the world above, and four of the world below.
Fhis is probably only a reflection in the overworld and the
aether world of the fourfold structure of the cosmos, since
four is everywhere the Indian’s sacred number. The root of
the idea is to be found In the conception of the four cardinal
points or of the quarters of the world,®^ from which came the
ministering genii when the Earth was made, and in which
these spirits dwell, upholding the corners of the heavens.
Potogojecs, a Potawatomi chief, told Father De Smet how
Nanaboojoo (Manibozho) “placed four beneficial spirits at
the four cardinal points of the earth, for the purpose of con-
tributing to the happiness of the human race. That of the
north procures for us ice and snow, in order to aid us in dis-
covering and following the wild animals. That of the south
gives us that which occasions the growth of our pumpkins,
melons, maize and tobacco. The spirit placed at the west
gives us rain, and that of the east gives us light, and com-
mands the sun to make his daily walks around the globe.”
Frequently the Indians identify the Spirits of the Quarters
with the four winds. Ga-oh is the Iroquoian Wind Giant, at
the entrance to whose abode are a Bear and a Panther and a
Moose and a Fawn: “When the north wind blows strong, the
Iroquois say, ‘The Bear is prowling in the sky’; if the west
wind is violent, ‘The Panther is whining.’ When the east wind
blows chill with its rain, ‘The Moose is spreading his breath’;
and when the south wind wafts soft breezes, ‘The Fawn is
returning to its Doe.’” Four is the magic number In all In-
dian lore; fundamentally it represents the square of the direc-
tions, by which the creator measured out his work.



24


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


VI. THE POWERS ABOVE

Even greater than the Wind Giant is the Thunderer,
whom the Iroquois deemed to be the guardian of the Heavens,
armed with a mighty bow and flaming arrows, hater and de-
stroyer of all things noxious, and especially to be revered as
having slain the great Serpent of the waters, which was de-
vouring mankind. Hino is the Thunderer’s name, and his
bride is the Rainbow; he has many assistants, the lesser Thun-
derers, and among them the boy Gunnodoyah, who was once
a mortal. Hino caught this youth up into his domain, armed
him with a celestial bow, and sent him to encounter the great
Serpent; but the Serpent devoured Gunnodoyah, who com-
municated his plight to Hino in a dream, whereupon the
Thunderer and his warriors slew the Serpent and bore Gunno-
doyah, still living, back to the Skies. Commonly the Thun-
derer is a friend to man; but men must not encroach upon his
domain. The Cherokee tell a tale of “the Man who married
the Thunder’s sister”: lured by the maiden to the Thunder’s
cave, he Is there surrounded by shape-shifting horrors, and
when he declines to mount a serpent-steed saddled with a
living turtle. Thunder grows angry, lightning flashes from his
eye, and a terrific crash stretches the young brave senseless;
when he revives and makes his way home, though it seems to
him that he has been gone but a day, he discovers that his
people have long given him up for dead; and, indeed, after
this he survives only seven days.®®

One of HIno’s assistants is Oshadagea, the great Dew Eagle,
whose lodge is in the western sky and who carries a lake of dew
in the hollow of his back. When the malevolent Fire Spirits
are destroying Earth’s verdure, Oshadagea flies abroad, and
from his spreading wings falls the healing moisture. The Dew
Eagle of the Iroquois is probably only the ghost of a Thunder-
bird spirit, which has been replaced, among them, by Hino the
Heavenly Archer. The Thunderbird is an invisible spirit; the



THE FOREST TRIBES


25


lightning is the flashing of his eye; the thunder is the noise of
his wings. He is surrounded by assistants, the lesser Thunder-
ers, especially birds of the hawk-kind and of the eagle-kind;
Keneu, the Golden Eagle, is his chief representative. If it
were not for the Thunderers, the Indians say, the earth would
become parched and the grass would wither and die. Pere
Le Jeune tells how, when a new altar-piece was installed in
the Montagnais mission, the Indians, “ seeing the Holy Spirit
pictured as a dove surrounded by rays of light, asked if the
bird was not the thunder; for they believe that the thunder is
a bird; and when they see beautiful plumes, they ask if they
are not the feathers of the thunder.”

The domain above the clouds is the heaven of the Sun and
the Moon and the Stars. The Sun is a man-being, the Moon a
woman-being; sometimes they are brother and sister, some-
times man and wife.^® The Montagnais told Pere Le Jeune
that the Moon appeared to be dark at times because she held
her son in her arms: “‘If the Moon has a son, she is married,
or has been?’ ‘Oh, yes, the Sun is her husband, who walks all
day, and she all night; and if he be eclipsed or darkened, it is
because he also sometimes takes the son which he has had by
the Moon into his arms.’ ‘Yes, but neither the Sun nor the
Moon has any arms.’ ‘Thou hast no sense; they always hold
their drawn bows before them, and that is why their arms do
not appear.’” Another Algonquian tribe, the Menominee,
tell how the Sun, armed with bow and arrows, departed for
a hunt; his sister, the Moon, alarmed by his long absence,
went in search of him, and travelled twenty days before she
found him. Ever since then the Moon has made twenty-day
journeys through the sky. The Iroquois say that the Sun,
Adekagagwaa, rests in the southern skies during the winter,
leaving his “sleep spirit” to keep watch in his stead. On the
eve of his departure, he addresses the Earth, promising his
return: “Earth, Great Mother, holding your children close
to your breast, hear my power! ... I am Adekagagwaa!



26


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


I reign, and I rule all your lives! My field is broad where
swift clouds race, and chase, and climb, and curl, and fall
in rains to your rivers and streams. My shield is vast and cov-
ers your land with its yellow shine, or burns it brown with
my hurrying flame. My eyes are wide, and search everywhere.
My arrows are quick when I dip them in dews that nourish
and breathe. My army is strong, when I sleep it watches my
fields. When I come again my warriors will battle throughout
the skies; Ga-oh will lock his fierce winds; Heno will soften
his voice; Gohone [Winter] will fly, and tempests will war
no more!”

The Indians know the poetry of the stars. It is odd to find
the Iroquois telling the story of the celestial bear, precisely
as it is told by the Eskimo of northern Greenland: how a
group of hunters, with their faithful dog, led onward by the
excitement of the chase, pursued the great beast high into the
heavens, and there became fixed as the polar constellation
(Ursa Major). In the story of the hunter and the Sky Elk
the sentiment of love mingles with the passion of the chase.
Sosondowah (“Great Night”), the hunter, pursued the Sky
Elk, which had wandered down to Earth, far up into the
heaven which is above the heaven of the Sun. There Dawn
made him her captive, and set him as watchman before the
door of her lodge. Looking down, he beheld and loved a
mortal maiden; in the spring he descended to her under the
form of a bluebird; in the summer he wooed her under the
semblance of a blackbird; in the autumn, under the guise of a
giant nighthawk, he bore her to the skies. But Dawn, angered
at his delay, bound him before her door, and transforming
the maiden into a star set her above his forehead, where he
must long for her throughout all time without attaining her.
The name of the star-maiden, which is the Morning Star, is
Gendenwitha, “It Brings the Day.” The Pleiades are called
the Dancing Stars. They were a group of brothers who were
awakened in the night by singing voices, to which they began




PLATE VII


Secret society mask of the Seneca. The Cireat
Wind Mask/’ a medicine or doctor mask, used in the
ceremonies of the False Face Company. This society
is said to have originated with the Stone Giants, who
are represented in one of the masks used. Repro-
duced by courtesy of Arthur C. Parker, Archaeologist
of the New York State Museum. Sec Note 65
(pp. 309-10), and compare Frontispiece and Plates
IV, XXV, XXXL





THE FOREST TRIBES


27


to dance. As they danced, the voices receded, and they, fol-
lowing, were led, little by little, into the sky, where the pitying
Moon transformed them into a group of fixed stars, and bade
them dance for ten days each year over the Red Man’s council-
house; that being the season of his New Year. One of the danc-
ing brothers, however, hearing the lamentations of his mother,
looked backward; and immediately he fell with such force that
he was buried in the earth. For a year the mother mourned
over his grave, when there appeared from it a tiny sprout,
which grew into a heaven-aspiring tree; and so was born the
Pine, tallest of trees, the guide of the forest, the watcher of
the skies.

VII. THE POWERS BELOW

As there are Powers above so are there Powers below. Earth
herself is the eldest and most potent of these.®^ Nokomis,
“Grandmother,” is her Algonquian name, but the Iroquois
address her as Eithinoha, “Our Mother”; for, they say, “the
earth is living matter, and the tender plantlet of the bean and
the sprouting germ of the corn nestling therein receive through
their delicate rootlets the life substance from the Earth. . . .
Earth, indeed, feeds itself to them; since what is supplied to
them is living matter, life in them is produced and conserved,
and as food the ripened corn and bean and their kinds, thus
produced, create and develop the life of man and of all living
things.”

Earth’s daughter, in Iroquois legend, is Onatah, the Corn
Spirit.®® Once Onatah, who had gone in search of refreshing
dews, was seized by the Spirit of Evil and imprisoned in his
darkness under the Earth until the Sun found her and guided
her back to the lost fields; never since has Onatah ventured
abroad to look for the dews. The Iroquois story is thus a
parallel of the Greek myth of Demeter and Persephone. The
Chippewa, on the other hand, make of the Corn Spirit a
heaven-sent youth, Mondamin, who is conquered and buried



28


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


by a mortal hero: from his grave springs the gift of maize.
Other food plants, such as the bean and the pumpkin, as
well as wild plants and the various species of trees, have their
several spirits, or Manitos; indeed, the world is alive with
countless mysteries, of every strength and size, and the for-
est is all thronged with armies of Pukwudjies, the Indian’s
fairy folk.®® “During a shower of rain thousands of them are
sheltered in a flower. The Ojibwa, as he reclines beneath the
shade of his forest trees, imagines these gods to be about
him. He detects their tiny voices in the insect’s hum. With
half-closed eyes he beholds them sporting by thousands on a
sun-ray.”

The Iroquois recognize three tribes of Jogaoh, or Dwarf
People: the Gahonga, of the rocks and rivers, whom the In-
dians call “Stone Throwers” because of their great strength
and their fondness for playing with stones as with balls; the
Gandayah, who have a care for the fruitfulness not only of
the land — for they fashion “dewcup charms” which attract
the grains and fruits and cause them to sprout, — but also
of the water, where they release captive fish from the trap
when the fishermen too rapaciously pursue; and the Ohdowas,
or underground people. The underworld where the Ohdowas
live is a dim and sunless realm containing forests and plains,
like the earth of man, peopled with many animals — all of which
are ever desirous to ascend to the sunny realm above. It is
the task of the Ohdowas to keep these underworld creatures
in their proper place, especially since many of them are venom-
ous and noxious beasts; and though the Ohdowas are small,
they are sturdy and brave, and for the most part keep the mon-
strous beings imprisoned; rarely do the latter break through
to devastate and defile the world above. As there are under-
earth people, so are there underwater people® who, like the
Fire-People of the Eskimo, are divided into two tribes, one
helpful, one hurtful to man. These underwater beings are
human in form, and have houses, like those of men, beneath



THE FOREST TRIBES


29


the waters; but they dress in snake’s skins and wear horns.
Sometimes their beautiful daughters lure mortal men down
into the depths, to don the snake-skin costume and to be lost
to their kindred forever.

Of monstrous beings, inhabiting partly the earth’s surface,
partly the underworld, the Iroquois recognize in particular
the race of Great Heads and the race of Stone Giants.
The Great Heads are gifted with penetrating eyes and provided
with abundant hair which serves them as wings; they ride on
the tempest, and in their destructive and malevolent powers
seem to be personifications of the storm, perhaps of the tornado.
In one tale, which may be the detritus of an ancient and crude
cosmogony, the Great Head obviously plays the role of a
demiurge; and a curious story tells of the destruction of one
of the tribe which pursued a young woman into her lodge and
seeing her parching chestnuts concluded that coals of fire were
good to eat; partaking of the coals, it died. These bizarre
creatures are well calculated to spice a tale with terrors.

The Iroquoian Stone Giants,®® as well as their congeners
among the Algonquians (e. g. the Chenoo of the Abnaki and
Micmac), belong to a wide-spread group of mythic beings of
which the Eskimo Tornit are examples. They are powerful
magicians, huge in stature, unacquainted with the bow, and
employing stones for weapons. In awesome combats they fight
one another, uprooting the tallest trees for weapons and rend-
ing the earth in their fury. Occasionally, they are tamed by
men and, as they are mighty hunters, they become useful
friends. Commonly they are depicted as cannibals ; and it may
well be that this far-remembered mythic people is a reminis-
cence, coloured by time, of backward tribes, unacquainted
with the bow, and long since destroyed by the Indians of his-
toric times.® Of course, if there be such an historic element in
these myths, it is coloured and overlaid by wholly mythic con-
ceptions of stone-armoured Titans or demiurges (see Ch. Ill,
i, ii).



30


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


VIII. THE ELDERS OF THE KINDS «

The Onondaga story of the beginnings of things closes with
these words: “Moreover, it is verily thus with all things
that are contained in the earth here present, that they sev-
erally retransform or exchange their bodies. It is thus with all
things that sprout and grow, and, in the next place, with all
things that produce themselves and grow, and, in the next
place, all the man-beings. All these are affected in the same
manner, that they severally transform their bodies, and, in
the next place, that they retransform their bodies, severally,
without cessation” (Hewitt, 2 i ARBE, pp. 219-20).

Savages, and perhaps all people who live near to Nature, are
first and inevitably Heracliteans : for them, as for the Greek
philosopher, all things flow, the sensible world is a world of
perpetual mutation; bodies, animate and inanimate, are but
temporary manifestations — outward shadows of the multi-
tude of shape-shifting Powers which govern the spectacle from
behind the scene. Yet even the savage, conscious as he is of
the impermanency of sensible things, detects certain constant
forms, persistently reappearing, though in various individual
embodiments. These forms are the natural kinds — the kin-
dreds or species into which Nature is divided; they are the
Ideas of things, as a greater Greek than Heraclitus would say;
and the Indians all develop into Platonists, for they hold that
each natural kind has its archetype, or Elder (as they prefer),
dwelling in an invisible world and sustaining the temporary
lives of all its earthly copies by the strength of its primal
being.

The changing seasons themselves — which, for all peoples
beyond the tropics, are the great facts governing the whole
strategy of life — become fixed in a kind of constancy, and
are eventually personified into such beings as we still fanci-
fully form for Spring and Summer and Winter and Autumn.®®
To be sure, the seasons are not so many for peoples whose sus-




PLATE VIII


Iroquois drawing of a Great Head — a type of
bodiless, man-eating monster (see Note 37, pp. 290--
91). The picture, reproduced from Schoolcraft, Indian
Trihesj part i, Plate LXXII, is an illustration of the
story of the outwitting of the (Jrcat Hea<l by an In-
dian woman, a story common to many of the Eastern
tribes (see p. 29),






247
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:46:22 PM »
 

As the territories of the forest tribes were similar — heavily
wooded, whether on mountain or plain, copiously watered,
abounding in game and natural fruits — so were their modes of
life and thought cast to the same pattern. Every man was a
hunter; but, except in the Canadian north, agriculture was prac-
tised by the women, with maize for the principal crop,*^ and
the villages were accordingly permanent. Industries were of




PLATE IV


Ceremonial mask of the Iroquois Indians, New
York. Carved wood painted red. This mask repre-
sents one of the great anthropic beings defeated in
primal times by the Master of Infc ; its face, pre-
viously beautiful, was contorted in the struggle*
Specimen in the United States National Museum.








THE FOREST TRIBES


IS

the Stone Age, though not without art, especiall7 where the
ceremonial of life was concerned. The tribes were organized
for war as for peace, and indeed, if hunting was the vocation,
war was the avocation of every Indian man: warlike prowess
was his crowning glory, and stoical fortitude under the most
terrible of tortures his supreme virtue; the cruelty of the
North American Indian — and few peoples have been more
consciously cruel — can be properly understood only as the re-
flection of his intense esteem for personal courage, to the proof
of which his whole life was subjected. For the rest, a love of
ritual song and dance, of oratory and the counsel of elders,
a fine courtesy, a subtle code of honour, an impeccable pride,
were all traits which the Forest Tribes had developed to the
full, and which gave to the Indian that aloofness of mien and
austerity of character which were the white man’s first and
most vivid impression of him. In the possession of these traits,
as in their mode of life and the ideas to which It gave birth,
the forest Indians were as one people; the Algonquians were
perhaps the more poetical, the more given to song and proph-
ecy, the Iroquoians the more politic and the better tacticians;
but their diff'erences were slight in contrast to an essential
unity of character which was to form, during the first two
centuries of the white men’s contact with the new-found race,
the European’s indelible impression of the Red Man.

II. PRIEST AND PAGAN

Men’s beliefs are their most precious possessions. The gold
and the furs and the tobacco of the New World were bright
allurements to the western adventure; but it was the desire
to keep their faith unmolested that planted the first permanent
English colony on American shores, and Spanish conquistadores
and French voyageurs were not more zealous for wealth and
war than were the Jesuit Fathers, who followed in their foot-
steps and outstayed their departure, for the Christianizing of



i6 NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY

the Red Man’s pagan soul. It is to these missionary priests
that we owe most of our knowledge of the Indian’s native be-
liefs — at least, for the earlier period. They entered the wilder-
ness to convert the savage, and accordingly it became their
immediate interest to discover what religious ideas this child
of nature already possessed. In their letters on the language,
institutions, and ideas of the Indians, written for the enlighten-
ment of those intending to enter the mission field, we have the
first reliable accounts of Indian myth and religion.

To be sure, the Fathers did not immediately understand
the aborigines. In one of the earliest of the Relations Pere
Lalemant wrote, of the Montagnais: “They have no form of
divine worship nor any kind of prayers”; but such expressions
mean simply that the missionaries found among the Indians
nothing similar to their own religious practices. In the Rela-
tion of 1647-48 Pere Raguenau said, writing of the Huron:
“To speak truly, all the nations of these countries have re-
ceived from their ancestors no knowledge of a God; and, before
we set foot here, all that was related about the creation of the
world consisted of nothing but myths. Nevertheless, though
they were barbarians, there remained in their hearts a secret
idea of the Divinity and of a first Principle, the author of all
things, whom they invoked without knowing him. In the for-
ests and during the chase, on the waters, and when in danger
of shipwreck, they name him Aireskouy Soutanditenr,^'^ and
call him to their aid. In war, and in the midst of their battles,
they give him the name of Ondoutaete and believe that he alone
awards the victory.®® Very frequently they address themselves
to the Sky, paying it homage; and they call upon the Sun to
be witness of their courage, of their misery, or of their inno-
cence. But, above all, in treaties of peace and alliance with
foreign Nations they invoke, as witnesses of their sincerity,
the Sun and the Sky, which see into the depths of their hearts,
and will wreak vengeance on the treachery of those who betray
their trust and do not keep their word. So true is what Ter-



THE FOREST TRIBES 17

tullian said of the most infidel Nations, that nature in the
midst of perils makes them speak with a Christian voice, —
Exclamant vocem naturaliter Christianam, — and have recourse
to a God whom they invoke almost without knowing him, —
Ignoto Deo.” ®

Exclamant vocem naturaliter Christianam! Two centuries
later another Jesuit, Father De Smet, uses the same expression
in describing the religious feeling of the Kansa tribe: “When
we showed them an Ecce Homo and a statue of our Lady of the
Seven Dolours, and the interpreter explained to them that that
head crowned with thorns, and that countenance defiled with
insults, were the true and real image of a God who had died
for love of us, and that the heart they saw pierced with seven
swords was the heart of his mother, we beheld an affecting illus-
tration of the beautiful thought of Tertullian, that the soul
of man is naturally Christian!”

It is not strange, therefore, that when these same Fathers
found in America myths of a creation and a deluge, of a fall
from heaven and of a sinful choice bringing death into the
world, they conceived that in the new-found Americans they
had discovered the lost tribes of Israel.

III. THE MANITOS*

“The definition of being is simply power,” says a speaker
in Plato’s Sophist; and this is a statement to which every
American Indian would accede. Each being in nature, the
Indians believe, has an indwelling power by means of which
this being maintains its particular character and in its own way
affects other beings. Such powers may be little or great,
weak or mighty; and of course it behooves a man to know which
ones are great and mighty. Outward appearances are no sure
sign of the strength of an indwelling potency; often a small
animal or a lethargic stone may be the seat of a mighty power;
but usually some peculiarity will indicate to the thoughtful



i8


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


observer the object of exceptional might, or it may be revealed
in a dream or vision. To become the possessor of such an ob-
ject is to have one’s own powers proportionally increased; it
is good “medicine” and will make one strong.

Every American language has its name for these indwelling
powers of things. The Eskimo word is Inua, or “owner”;
the Iroquois employ the word Orenda, and for maleficent
powers, or “bad magic,” Otgon; the Huron word is Oki;^® the
Siouan, Wakanda. But the term by which the idea has become
most generally known to white men, doubtless because it was
the word used by the Indians first encountered by the colo-
nists, is the Algonquian Manitou, Manito, or Manido, as it is
variously spelled. The customary translations are “power,”
“mystery,” “magic,” and, commoner yet, “spirit” and “medi-
cine” — and the full meaning of the word would include all
of these; for the powers of things include every gradation from
the common and negligible to the mysterious and magical:
when they pertain to the higher forces of nature they are in-
telligent spirits, able to hear and answer supplications; and
wherever they may be appropriated to man’s need they are
medicine, spiritual and physical.

The Indian does not make, as we do, a sharp division be-
tween physical and spiritual powers; rather, he is concerned
with the distinction between the weak and the strong: the
sub-human he may neglect or conquer, the superhuman he
must supplicate and appease. It is commonly to these latter,
the mighty Manitos, that the word “spirit” is applied.
Nor must we suppose that the Manitos always retain the
same shape. Nature is constantly changing, constantly trans-
forming herself in every part; she is full of energy, full of life;
Manitos are everywhere effecting these transformations, pre-
senting themselves now in this shape, now in that. Conse-
quently, the Indian does not judge by the superficial gift of
vision; he studies the effects of things, and in objects of hum-
blest appearance he often finds evidences of the highest pow-





PLATE V


Chippewa pictographic record of Midcwiwin songs
and rites. After Schoolcraft, Indian Trilm^ part i,
Plate LI. Two records arc given ; they arc read from
right to left, and upward. Following are interpre-,
rations of the figures, abridged from Schoolcraft.

Upper record: ,i. Medicine lodge with winged
figure representing the Great Spirit come to instruct
the Indians. 2. Candidate for admission with pouch
attached to his arm; wind gushes from the pouch.
3. Pause, indicating preparation of feast. 4, Arm
holding a dish, representing hand of the master of
ceremonies. 5. Sweat-lodge. 6. Arm of the priest
who conducts the candidate. 7. Symbol for gifts,
the admission fee of candidate. 8. Sacred tree, with
medicine root. 9. Stuffed crane medicine-bag. lo.
Arrow penetrating the circle of the sky. n. A
small high-flying hawk. 12. llie sky, the Great
Spirit above it, a manito’s arm upraised beneath in
supplication. 13. Pause. 14. Sacred or magic
tree. 15. Drumstick. 16. Half of thes sky with a
man walking on it, symbol of midday. 17. The
Great Spirit filling all space with his beams and halo.
18. Drum. 19. Tambourine with feather orna-
ments. 20. Crow. 21. An initiate or priest hold-
ing in one hand a drumstick, in the other the clouds
of the celestial hemisphere.

Lower record: i. A Wabeno’s, or doctor^s, hand.
2. Sacred tree or plant. 3. A Wabeno dog. 4.
Sick man vomiting blood. 5. Pipe, here represent-
ing ‘^bad medicine/’ 6. A worm that eats decaying
wood. 7. A Wabeno spirit, addressed for aid. 8.
A hunter with Wabeno powers. 9. The Great
Spirit, filling the sky with his presence. 10. Sky
with clouds. II. Fabulous monster chasing the
clouds. 12, Horned wolf. 13. The war eagle*
14. Bow and arrow, magically potent. 15. A
Mide initiate, or doctor, holding the sky* 16. The
sun. 17. Bow and arrow shooting power, 18.
Man 'with drum,' in ecstasy. Cf. Plate XX.






THE FOREST TRIBES


19

ers. Stones do not seem to us likely objects of veneration, yet
many strong Manitos dwell in them — perhaps it is the spark
of fire in the impassive flint that appeals to the Red Man’s
imagination; perhaps it is an instinctive veneration for the
ancient material out of which were hewn the tools that
have lifted man above the brute; perhaps it is a sense of the
age-long permanence and invulnerable reality of earth’s rocky
foundations®’’: —

Ho! Aged One, e?ka,

At a time when there were gathered together seven persons,*

You sat in the seventh place, it is said.

And of the Seven you alone possessed knowledge of all things.

Aged One, e^ka.

When in their longing for protection and guidance.

The people sought in their minds for a way.

They beheld you seated with assured permanency and endurance.
In the center where converged the paths,

There, exposed to the violence of the four winds, you sat.

Possessed with power to receive supplications.

Aged One, efka.

It is thus that the Omaha began his invocation to the healing
stones of his sweat lodge — a veritable omphalos, or centre of
the world, symbolizing the invisible, pervasive, and enduring
life of all things.


IV. THE GREAT SPIRIT*

The Algonquians of the north recognize as the chief of their
Manitos, Gitche (or Kitshi) Manito, the Great Spirit, whom
they also call the Master of Life.®* It should not be inferred
that a manlike personality is ascribed to the Great Spirit. He
is invisible and immaterial; the author of life, but himself
uncreated; he is the source of good to man, and is invoked
with reverence: but he is not a definite personality about whom

* The spirits of the seven directions, above, below, here, and the four cardinal
points. The passage is translated bf Alice C. Fletcher, 27 ARBE, p. 586. The
word “e?ka’' may be roughly rendered “ I desire,” ‘‘ I crave,” “I implore,” “I seek,”
etc., but has no exact equivalent in English,



20


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


myths are told; he is aloof from the world of sense; and he is
perhaps best named, as some translators prefer, the Great
Mystery of all things.

Yet the Great Spirit is not without proper names. Pcre
Le Jeune wrote thus in 1633, concerning the Montagnais:
“They say that there is a certain one whom they call Atahocan,
who made all things. Talking one day of God, in a cabin, they
asked me what this God was. I told them that it was he who
could do everything, and who had made the Sky and Earth.
They began to say to one another, ‘Atahocan, Atahocan, it is
Atahocan.’” Winslow, writing in 1622, mentions a similar
spirit, Kiehtan, recognized by the Massachusetts Indians;
and the early writers on the Virginia Indians tell of their belief
“that there is one chiefe God that hath beene from all eterni-
tie” who made the world and set the sun and moon and stars
to be his ministers. The Iroquoian tribes have no precise
equivalent for the Algonquian Kitshi Manito, but they be-
lieved in a similar spirit, known by the name of Areskoui or
Agreskoui, to whom they offered the first-fruits of the chase
and of victorious war. The terrible letter in which Pere Isaac
Jogues recounts his stay among the Iroquois, as a prisoner,
tells of the sacrifice of a woman captive to this deity: “And
as often as they applied the fire to that unhappy one with
torches and burning brands, an old man cried in a loud voice:
‘Aireskoi, we sacrifice to thee this victim that thou mayst
satisfy thyself with her flesh, and give us victory over our
enemies.’”

The usual rite to the Great Spirit, however, is not of this
horrible kind. From coast to coast the sacred Calumet is
the Indian’s altar, and its smoke is the proper offering to
Heaven.*® “The Sceptres of our Kings are not so much re-
spected,” wrote Marquette, “for the Savages have such a
Deference for this Pipe, that one may call it the God of Peace
and War, and the Arbiter of Life and Death.” “It was really
a touching spectacle to see the calumet, the Indian emblem



THE FOREST TRIBES


21


of peace, raised heavenward by the hand of a savage, present-
ing it to the Master of Life imploring his pity on all his chil-
dren on earth and begging him to confirm the good resolutions
which they had made.” This is a comment of Father De
Smet, who spent many years among many different tribes,
and it is he who preserves for us the Delaware story of the
gift of the Calumet to man: The peoples of the North had
resolved upon a war of extermination against the Delaware,
when, in the midst of their council, a dazzling white bird
appeared among them and poised with outspread wings above
the head of the only daughter of the head chief. The girl
heard a voice speaking within her, which said: “Call all the
warriors together; make known to them that the heart of the
Great Spirit is sad, is covered with a dark and heavy cloud,
because they seek to drink the blood of his first-born children,
the Lenni-Lennapi, the eldest of all the tribes on earth. To
appease the anger of the Master of Life, and to bring back
happiness to his heart, all the warriors must wash their hands
in the blood of a young fawn; then, loaded with presents, and
the Hobowakan [calumet] in their hands, they must go all
together and present themselves to their elder brothers; they
must distribute their gifts, and smoke together the great calu-
met of peace and brotherhood, which is to make them one
forever.”

V. THE FRAME OF THE WORLD

Herodotus said of the Persians: “It is their wont to per-
form sacrifices to Zeus, going up to the most lofty of the moun-
tains; and the whole circle of the heavens they call Zeus;
and they sacrifice to the Sun and the Moon and the Earth,
to Fire and to Water and to the Winds; these are the only
gods to whom they have sacrificed ever from the first.” The
ritual of the calumet indicates identically the same concep-
tion of the world-powers among the American Indians. “On
all great occasions,” says De Smet, “in their religious and



22


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


political ceremonies, and at their great feasts, the calumet pre-
sides; the savages send its first fruits, or its first puffs, to the
Great Waconda, or Master of Life, to the Sun, which gives
them light, and to the Earth and Water by which they are
nourished; then they direct a puff to each point of the com-
pass, begging of Heaven all the elements and favorable winds.”
And again: “They offer the Calumet to the Great Spirit, to
the Four Winds, to the Sun, Fire, Earth and Water.”

The ritual of the calumet defines for the Indian the frame
of the world and the distribution of its indwelling powers.
Above, in the remote and shining sky, is the Great Spirit,
whose power is the breath of life that permeates all nature and
whose manifestation is the light which reveals creation. As
the spirit of light he shows himself in the sun, “ the eye of the
Great Spirit”; as the breath of life he penetrates all the world
in the form of the moving Winds. Below is Mother Earth,
giving forth the Water of Life, and nourishing in her bosom
all organic beings, the Plant Forms and the Animal Forms.
The birds are the intermediaries between the habitation of men
and the Powers Above; serpents and the creatures of the waters
are intermediaries communicating with the Powers Below.

Such, in broad definition, was the Indian’s conception of the
world-powers. But he was not unwilling to elaborate this sim-
ple scheme. The world, as he conceived it, is a storeyed world:
above the flat earth is the realm of winds and clouds, haunted
by spirits and traversed by the great Thunderbird; above this,
the Sun and the Moon and the Stars have their course; while
high over all is the circle of the upper sky, the abode of the
Great Spirit. Commonly, the visible firmament is regarded
as the roof of man’s world, but it is also the floor of an arche-
typal heavenly world, containing the patterns of all things
that exist in the world below: it is from this heaven above the
heavens that the beings descend who create the visible uni-
verse. And as there are worlds above, so are there worlds
beneath us; the earth is a floor for us, but a roof for those




248
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:45:33 PM »

The religious and mythical ideas of the Eskimo wear the
hues of their life. They are savages, easily cheered when food
is plenty, and when disheartened oppressed rather by a blind
helplessness than by any sense of ignorance or any depth of
thought. Their social organization is loose; their law is
strength; their differences are settled by blood feuds; a kind
of unconscious indecency characterizes the relations of the
sexes; but they have the crude virtues of a simply gregarious
people — ready hospitality, willingness to share, a lively if fit-
ful affectionateness, a sense of fun. They are given to singing
and dancing and tale-telling; to magic and trance and spirit-
journeys. Their adventures in real life are grim enough, but
these are outmatched by their flights of fancy. As their life
demands, they are rapacious and ingrained huntsmen; and
perhaps the strongest trait of their tales is the succession of



THE FAR NORTH


S


images reflecting the intimate habits of a people whose every
member is a butcher — blubber and entrails and warm blood,
bones and the foulness of parasites and decay: these replace
the tenderer images suggested to the minds of peoples who
dwell in flowered and verdured lands.

HI. THE WORLD-POWERS

For the Eskimo, as for all savage people, the world is up-
held by invisible powers. Everything in nature has its Inua,®
its “owner” or “indweller”; stones and animals have their
Inue, the air has an Inua, there is even an Inua of the strength
or the appetite; the dead man is the Inua of his grave, the soul
is the Inua of the lifeless body. Inue are separable from the
objects of which they are the “owners”; normally they are
invisible, but at times they appear in the form of a light or a
fire — an ill-seen thing, foretokening death.

The “owners” of objects may become the helpers or guard-
ians of men and then they are known as Tornait.^ Especially
potent are the Inue of stones and bears; if a bear “owner”
becomes the Tornak of a man, the man may be eaten by the
bear and vomited up again; he then becomes an Angakok, or
shaman,® with the bear for his helper. Men or women with
many or powerful Tornait are of the class of Angakut, endowed
with magical and healing power and with eyes that see hidden
things.

The Greenlanders had a vague belief in a being, Tornarsuk,
the Great Tornak, or ruler of the Tornait, through whom the
Angakut obtained their control over their helpers; but a like
belief seems not to have been prevalent on the continent.®
In the spiritual economy of the Eskimo, the chief place is
held by a woman-being, the Old Woman of the Sea, — Nerri-
vik, the “Food Dish,” the north Greenlanders call her, — while
Sedna is a mainland name for her.'^ Once she was a mortal
woman; a petrel wooed her with entrancing song and carried



6


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


her to his home beyond the sea. Too late she found that he
had deceived her. When her relatives tried to rescue her,
the bird raised such a storm that they cast her into the sea to
save themselves; she attempted to cling to the boat, but they
cut off her hand, and she sank to the bottom, her severed fin-
gers being transformed into whales and seals of the several
kinds. In her house in the depths of the sea Nerrivik dwells,
trimming her lamp, guarded by a terrible dog, and ruling over
the animal life of the deep. Sometimes men catch no seals,
and then the Angakut go down to her and force or persuade
her to release the food animals; that is why she is called the
“Food Dish.” It is not difficult to perceive in this Woman of
the Sea a kind of Mother of Wild Life — a hunter folk’s god-
dess, but cruel and capricious as is the sea itself.

In the house of Sedna is a shadowy being, Anguta, her father.
Some say that it was he who rescued her and then cast her
overboard to save himself, and he is significantly surnamed
“the Man with Something to Cut.” Like his daughter, Anguta
has a maimed hand, and it is with this that he seizes the dead
and drags them down to the house of Sedna — for her sover-
eignty is over the souls of the dead as well as over the food of
the living; she is Mistress of Life and of Death. According to
the old Greenlandic tradition, when the Angakut go down to
the Woman of the Sea they pass first through the region of
the dead, then across an abyss where an icy wheel is forever
revolving, next by a boiling cauldron with seals in it, and lastly,
when the great dog at the door is evaded, within the very en-
trance there is a second abyss bridged only by a knifelike way.
Such was the Eskimo’s descensus Averno.^

IV. THE WORLD’S REGIONS

As the Eskimo’s Inland is peopled with monstrous tribes,
so is his Sea-Front populous with strange beings.® There are
the Inue of the sea — a kind of mermen; there are the mirage-



THE FAR NORTH


7


like Kayak-men who raise storms and foul weather; there are
the phantom women’s boats, the Umiarissat, whose crews,
some say, are seals transformed into rowers. Strangest of all
are the Fire-People, the Ingnersuit, dwelling in the cliffs, or,
as it were, in the crevasse between land and sea. They are of
two classes, the Pug-Nosed People and the Noseless People.
The former are friendly to men, assisting the kayaker even
when invisible to him; the Noseless Ones are men’s enemies,
and they drag the hapless kayaker to wretched captivity down
beneath the black waters. An Angakok was once seal-hunting,
far at sea; all at once he found himself surrounded by strange
kayaks — the Fire-People coming to seize him. But a commo-
tion arose among them, and he saw that they were pursued
by a kayak whose prow was like a great mouth, opening and
shutting, and slaying all that were in its path; and suddenly
all of the Fire-People were gone from the surface of the sea.
Such was the power of the shaman’s helping spirit.

In the Eskimo’s conception there are regions above and re-
gions below man’s visible abode, and the dead are to be found
in each.^“ Accounts differ as to the desirability of the several
abodes. The mainland people — or some of them — regard the
lower world as a place of cold and storm and darkness and
hunger, and those who have been unhappy or wicked in this
life are bound thither; the region above is a land of plenty
and song, and those who have been good and happy, and also
those who perish by accident or violence, and women who die
in child-birth, pass to this upper land. But there are others
who deem the lower world the happier, and the upper the realm
of cold and hunger; yet others maintain that the soul is full
of joy in either realm.

The Angakut make soul-journeys to both the upper and the
lower worlds.^^ The lower world is described as having a sky
like our own, only the sky is darker and the sun paler; it is
always winter there, but game is plentiful. Another tale tells
of four cavernous underworlds, one beneath the other; the

X— 3



8


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


first three are low-roofed and uncomfortable, only the fourth
and lowest is roomy and pleasant. The upper world is beyond
the visible sky, which is a huge dome revolving about a moun-
tain-top; it is a land with its own hills and valleys, duplicating
Earth. Its “owners” are the Inue of the celestial bodies, who
once were men, but who have been translated to the heavens
and are now the celestial lights. The road to the upper world
is not free from perils: on the way to the moon there is a
person who tempts wayfarers to laughter, and if successful
in making them laugh takes out their entrails.® Perhaps this
is a kind of process of disembodying; for repeatedly in Es-
kimo myth occur spirit-beings which when seen face to face
appear to be human beings, but when seen from behind are
like skeletons.^®


V. THE BEGINNINGS

The Sun and the Moon were sister and brother — mortals
once. In a house where there was no light they lay together,
and when the sister discovered who had been her companion,
in her shame she tore off her breasts and threw them to her
brother, saying, “Since my body pleaseth thee, taste these,
too.” Then she fled away, her brother pursuing, and each
bearing the torches by means of which they had discovered
one another. As they ran they rose up into the heavens;
the sister’s torch burned strong and bright, and she became
the Sun; the brother’s torch died to a mere ember, and he be-
came the Moon.“ When the Sun rises in the sky and summer
is approaching, she is coming “to give warmth to orphans,”
say the Eskimo; for in the Far North, where many times in
the winter starvation is near, the lot of the orphan is grimly
uncertain.

The Greenlanders are alert to the stars, especially those
that foretell the return of the summer sun; when Orion is
seen toward dawn, summer is coming and hearts are joyous.




PLATE III


I

Example of gorget, or breast-ornament, of wood,
used by the Eskimo of western Alaska in shaman istic
dances, often in combination with a mask. On the
original (now in the United States National Museum),
the central figure of a man standing on a whale and
holding fishes is painted in red, all the other figures be-
ing in black. The central figure represents a marine
god or giant, probably the Food-Giver. See Note 9,
(p. 274).


2

Harpoon-rest with sketch of a mythic bird captur-
ing a whale. From Cape Prince of Wales, Now in
United States National Museum. The bird is prob-
ably the Thunderbird, as in the similar motive in the
art of the North-West Coast Indians.





THE FAR NORTH


9


The Eskimo tell how men with dogs once pursued a bear far
out on the ice; suddenly the bear began to rise into the air,
his pursuers followed, and this group became the constellation
which we name Orion. A like story is sometimes told of the
Great Bear (Ursa Major). Harsher is the tale which tells of
the coming of Venus: “He who Stands and Listens” — for
the sun’s companion is a man to the Eskimo. An old man, so
the story goes, was sealing near the shore; the noise of chil-
dren playing in a cleft of rock frightened the seals away;
and at last, in his anger, he ordered the cleft to close over them.
When their parents returned from hunting, all they could do
was to pour a little blood down a fissure which had been left,
but the imprisoned children soon starved. They then pursued
the old man, but he shot up into the sky and became the lumi-
nous planet which is seen low in the west when the light begins
to return after the wintry dark.^^

The Eskimo do not greatly trouble themselves with thoughts
as to the beginnings of the world as a whole; rather they take
it for granted, quite unspeculatively. There is, however, an
odd Greenlandic tale of how earth dropped down from the
heavens, soil and stones, forming the lands we know. Babies
came forth — earth-born — and sprawled about among the
dwarf willows; and there they were found by a man and a
woman (none knows whence these came), and the woman made
clothes for them, and so there were people; and the man
stamped upon the earth, whence sprang, each from its tiny
mound, the dogs that men need.^® At first there was no death;
neither was there any sun. Two old women debated, and one
said, “Let us do without light, if so we can be without death”;
but the other said, “Nay, let us have both light and death!”
— and as she spoke, it was so.“

The Far North has also a widely repeated story of a deluge
that destroyed most of the earth’s life, as well as another wide-
spread account of the birth of the different races of man-
kind — for at first all men were Eskimo — from the union of a



lO


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


girl with a dog; the ancestors of the white men she put in
the sole of a boot and sent them to find their own country,
and when the white men’s ships came again, lo, as seen from
above, the body of each ship looked precisely like the sole of a
boot!


VI. LIFE AND DEATH

Birth and death, in Eskimo conception, are less a beginning
and an end than episodes of life. Bodies are only instruments
of souls — the souls which are their “owners”; and what re-
spect is shown for the bodies of the dead is based upon a very
definite awe of the potencies of their Inue, which have been
augmented rather than diminished by the last liberation.
Souls may be born and reborn both as man and as beast,
and some have been known to run the whole gamut of the ani-
mal kingdom before returning to human shape.^® Ordinarily
human souls are reborn as men. Monsters, too, are born of
human parents : one of the most ghastly of the northern tales
is the story of “the Baby who ate its parents”; it tore off its
mother’s breasts as she suckled it, it devoured her body and
ate its father; and then, covered with its parents’ blood and
crying for meat, it crawled horribly toward the folk, who fled
in terror.^®

Besides the soul which is the body’s “owner” the Eskimo be-
lieve in a name-soul.®® The name of the dead man is not men-
tioned by his kinsfolk until a child has come into the world to
bear it anew. Then, when the name has thus been rAorn, the
dead man’s proper soul is free to leave the corpse and go to
the land of the departed. An odd variant of this Greenlandic
notion was encountered by Stefansson among the western
tribes: these people believe that the soul of the dead relative
enters the body of the new-born child, guarding and protect-
ing its life and uttering all its words until it reaches the age of
discretion; then the child’s own soul is supposed to assume
sway, and it is called after a name of its own. If there have



THE FAR NORTH


II


been a number of deaths previous to a birth, the child ma7
have several such guardian spirits.

Sometimes a child had dire need of guardian spirits. Such
a one was Qalanganguase; his parents and his sister were dead;
he had no kindred to care for him and he was paralysed in
the lower part of his body. When his fellow-villagers went
hunting, he was left alone; and then, in his solitude, the spirits
came and whiled away the hours. Once, however, the spirit
of his sister was slow in going (for Qalanganguase had been
looking after the little child she had left when she died), and
the people, on their return, saw the shadow of her flitting feet.
When Qalanganguase told what had happened, the villagers
challenged him to the terrible song-duel in which the Angakut
try one another’s strength; and they bound him to the sup-
ports of the house and left him swinging to and fro. But the
spirit of his mother came to him, and his father’s spirit, say-
ing, “Journey with us”; and so he departed with them, nor
did his fellow-villagers ever find him again.^®

Qalanganguase was an orphaned child and a cripple; his
rights to life — in the Polar North — were little enough.
Mitsima was an old man. He was out seal-catching in mid-
winter; a storm came up, and he was lost to his companions.
When the storm passed, his children saw him crawling like
a dog over the ice, for his hands and feet were frozen — his
children saw him, but they were afraid to go out to him, for
he was near unto death. “He is an old man,” they said, and
so they let him die; for the aged, too, have little right to life
in the Polar North.

Perhaps it is necessity rather than cruelty in a region where
life is hard. Perhaps it is that death seems less final, more
episodic, to men whose lives are always in peril. Perhaps it
is the ancient custom of the world, which only civilized men
have forgotten. “We observe our old customs,” said a wise
elder to Knud Rasmussen — and he was speaking of the ob-
servation of the rites for the dead — “in order to hold the



12


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


world up, for the powers must not be offended. We observe
our customs, in order to hold each other up. We are afraid of
the great Evil. Men are so helpless in the face of illness. The
people here do penance, because the dead are strong in their
vital sap, and boundless in their might.”



CHAPTER II


THE FOREST TRIBES

1. THE FOREST REGION

W HEN British and French and Dutch colonized North
America in the seventeenth century, the region which
they entered was a continuous forest extending northward to
the tree line of Labrador and Hudson’s Bay west, southward to
the foot-hills of the mountains and the shores of the Gulf, and
westward to about the longitude of the Mississippi River.
This vast region was inhabited by numerous tribes of a race
new to white men. The Norse, during their brief stay in Vin-
land, on the northern borders of the forest lands, had heard,
through the Skraelings, of men who wore fringed garments,
carried long spears, and whooped loudly; but they had not
seen those people, whom it had remained for Columbus first
to encounter. These men — “Indians” Columbus had called
them — were, in respect to polity, organized into small tribal
groups; but these groups, usually following relationship in
speech and natural proximity, were, in turn, loosely bound to-
gether in “confederacies” or “nations.” Even beyond these
limits affinity of speech delimited certain major groups, or
linguistic stocks, normally representing consanguineous races;
and, indeed, the whole forest region, from the realm of the
Eskimo in the north to the alluvial and coastal lands bordering
on the Gulf, was dominated by two great linguistic stocks, the
Algonquian and the Iroquoian, whose tribes were the first
aborigines encountered by the white colonists.

The Algonquians, when the whites appeared, were by far
the more numerous and wide-spread of the two peoples.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


14

Their tribes included, along the Atlantic coast, the Micmac of
New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, the Abnaki, Pcnnacook,
Massachuset, Nauset, Narraganset, Pequot, etc., of New
England, the Mahican and Montauk of New York, the Dela-
ware of New Jersey, and the Nanticoke and Powhatan of Vir-
ginia and North Carolina. North of the St. Lawrence were the
Montagnais and Algonquin tribes, while westward were the
Chippewa and Cree, mainly between the Great Lakes and
Hudson’s Bay. The Potawatomi, Menominee, Sauk and Fox,
Miami, Illinois, and Shawnee occupied territory extending
from the western lakes southward to Tennessee and westward
to the Mississippi. On the Great Plains the Arapaho and Chey-
enne and in the Rocky Mountains the Siksika, or Blackfeet,
were remote representatives of this vast family of tribes.
In contrast, the Iroquoian peoples were compact and little di-
vided. The two centres of their power were the region about
Lakes Erie and Ontario and the upper St. Lawrence, south-
ward through central New York and Pennsylvania, and the
mountainous region of the Carolina and Virginia colonies.
Of the northern tribes the Five Nations,^® or Iroquois Con-
federacy, of New York, and the Canadian Huron, with whom
they were perpetually at war, were the most important; of
the southern, the Tuscarora and Cherokee. In all the wide
territory occupied by these two great stocks the only consid-
erable intrusion was that of the Catawba, an offshoot of the
famed Siouan stock of the Plains, which had established
itself between the Iroquoian Cherokee and the Algonquian
Powhatan.

249
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:30:17 PM »

INTRODUCTION


XIX


version known to the Arctic Highlanders, where the poign-
ant choice is put, “Will ye have eternal darkness and eternal
life, or light and death?” — art and morality and philosophy
are all intermingled.

To perfect our criterion we must add to the analysis of mo-
tive the study of the sources of mythic conceptions. In a
broad way, these are the suggestions of environing nature,
the analogies of human nature both psychical and physi-
ological, imagination, and borrowings. Probably the first of
these is the most important, though the “nature-myth” is far
from being the simple and inevitable thing an elder genera-
tion of students would make of it. Men’s ideas necessarily re-
flect the world that they know, and even where the mythic
incidents are the same the timbre of the tale will vary, say
from the Yukon to the Mississippi, in the eastern forest, or on
the western desert. There are physiographical boundaries
within the continent which form a natural chart of the divi-
sions in the complexion of aboriginal thought; and while there
are numberless overlappings, outcroppings, and intrusions,
none the less striking are the general conformities of the char-
acter of the several regions with the character of the mythic
lore developed in them. The forests of the East, the Great
Plains, the arid South-West, secluded California, the North-
Western archipelago, each has its own traits of thought as it
has its own traits of nature, and it is inevitable that we sup-
pose the former to be in some degree a reflection of the latter.
Beyond all this there are certain constancies of nature, the
succession of darkness and light, the circle of the seasons, the
motions of sun, moon, and stars, of rivers and winds, that
affect men everywhere and everywhere colour their fancies;
and it is not the least interesting feature of the study of a wide-
spread mythic theme or incident to see the variety of natural
phenomena for which it may, first and last, serve to account,
since the myth-maker does not find his story in nature, but
writes it there with her colouring.



XX INTRODUCTION

The second great source of myth material is found in the
analogies of human nature. Primarily these arc psychical:
the desires and purposes of men are assumed, quite uncon-
sciously, to animate and to inspire the whole drama of nature’s
growth and change, and thus the universe becomes peopled with
personalities, ranging in definition from the senselessly vora-
cious appetites incarnated as monsters, to the self-possessed
purpose and, not infrequently, the “sweet reasonableness”
of man-beings and gods. Besides the psychical, however,
there are the physical analogies of humankind. The most
elementary are the physiological, which lead to a symbolism
now gruesome, now poetic. The heart, the hair, and the breath
are the most significant to the Indian, and their inner meaning
could scarcely be better indicated than in the words of a
Pawnee priest from whom Alice Fletcher obtained her report
of the Hako. One act of this ceremony is the placing of a
bit of white down in the hair of a consecrated child, and in
explaining this rite the priest said: “The down is taken from
under the wings of the white eagle. The down grew close to
the heart of the eagle and moved as the eagle breathed. It
represents the breath and life of the white eagle, the father of
the child.” Further, since the eagle is intermediary between
man and Father Heaven, “the white, downy feather, which is
ever moving as if it were breathing, represents Tirawa-atius,
who dwells beyond the blue sky, which is above the soft, white
clouds”; and it is placed in the child’s hair “on the spot where
a baby’s skull is open, and you can see it breathe.” This is the
poetic side of the symbolism; the gruesome is represented by
scalping, by the tearing out of the heart, and sometimes by
the devouring of it for the sake of obtaining the strength of
the slain. Another phase of physiological symbolism has to do
with the barbarian’s never-paling curiosity about matters of
sex; there is little trace of phallic worship in North America,
but the Indian’s myths abound in incidents which are as un-
consciously as they are unblushingly indecent. A strange and



INTRODUCTION


XXI


recurrent feature of Indian myth is the personification of
members of the body, especially the genital and excretory
organs, usually in connexion with divination. The final step
in the use of the human body as a symbol is anthropomor-
phism — that complete anthropomorphism wherein mythic
powers are given bodies, not part human and part animal,
but wholly human; it marks the first clear sense of the dig-
nity of man, and of the superiority of his wisdom to that of
the brutes. Not many Indian groups have gone far in this
direction, but among the more advanced it is a step clearly
undertaken.

Imagination plays a part in the development of myth which
is best realized by the aesthetic effect created by a body of
tales or by a set of pictorial symbols. The total impression of
Indian mythic emblems is undoubtedly one of grotesquerie, but
it is difficult to point to any pagan religious art except the
Greek that has outgrown the grotesque; and the Indian has a
quality of its own. There is a wide difference, however, in
the several regions, and indeed as between tribes of the same
region. The art of the North-West and of the South-West are
both highly developed, but even in such analogous objects as
masks they represent distinct types of genius. The Navaho
and the Apache are neighbours and relatives, but they are
poles apart in their aesthetic expression. Some tribes, as the
Pawnee, show great originality; others, as the northern Atha-
pascans and most of the Salish, are colourless borrowers.

Borrowing is, indeed, the most difficult of problems to solve.
In the abstract, it is easy to suppose that, with the main simi-
larities of environment in North America and the general even-
ness of a civilization everywhere neolithic, the like conditions of
a like human nature would give rise to like ideas and fancies.
It is equally easy to suppose that in a territory permeable
nearly everywhere, among tribes in constant intercourse, bor-
rowing must be extensive. Both factors are significant, though
in general the obvious borrowing is likely to seem the more



XXll


INTRODUCTION


impressive. Nevertheless, universal borrowing is a difficult
hypothesis, for innumerable instances show an identity of Old-
World and New-World ideas, where communication within
thinkable time is incredible. Even in the New World there are
wide separations for identical notions that seem to imply dis-
tinct origins. Thus the Arctic Highlanders, who have only
recently learned that there are other peoples in the world, pos-
sess ideas identical with those of the Indians of the far South.
When such an idea is simply that there is a cavernous under-
world which is an abode of spirits, there Is no need to assume
communication, for the notion is world-wide; but when the two
regions agree in asserting that there are four underworld cav-
erns — an idea which is in no sense a natural Inference — then
the suspicion of communication becomes inevitable. Again,
constellation-myths which see in Corona Borealis a circle of
chieftains. In the Pleiades a group of dancei's, in Ursa Major
a quadruped pursued by three hunters, might have many
independent origins; but when we encounter so curious a story
as that of the incestuous relations of the Sun and the Moon
told by Eskimo in the north and Cherokee in the south, com-
munication is again suggested; and this suggestion becomes
almost certainty when we find, further, that a special incident
of this myth — the daubing of the secret lover with paint or
ashes by which he Is later identified — appears in another
tale found in nearly every part of the continent, the story of
the girl who bore children to a dog.

In the story just mentioned the children of the girl and the
dog sometimes become stars, sometimes the ancestors of a tribe
or clan of men; and this is a fair illustration of the manner in
which incidents having all the character of fiction are made to
serve as explanatory myths by their various users. The funda-
mental material of myth is rather a collection of incidents
fitted into the scheme of things suggested by perception and
habit than the stark invention of nature; and while the inci-
dents must have an invention somewhere, the greater portion



INTRODUCTION


XXlll


of them seem to be given by art and adopted by nature, —
borrowing and adaptation being, for the savage as for the civil-
ized man, more facile than new thinking.

In every considerable collection of Indian stories there are
many adaptations of common ideas and incidents. In different
regions this basic material comes to characteristic forms of
expression. Finally, in the continent as a whole, viewed as one
great region, there is a generally definable scheme, within which
the mythic conceptions of the North American fall into place.
It is in this sense, and with reference to this scheme, that we
may speak of a North American Indian mythological system.

On the side of cosmology, the scheme has already been
indicated. There is a world above, the home of the Sky
Father and of the celestial powers; there is a world below, the
embodiment of the Earth Mother and the abode of the dead;
there is the central plane of the earth, and there are the genii
of its Quarters. But cosmology serves only to define the
theatre; it does not give the action. Cosmogony is the essen-
tial drama. In the Indian scheme the beginning is seldom
absolute. A few tribes recognize a creator who makes or a
procreator who generates the world and its inhabitants; but
the usual conception is either of a pre-existent sky-world,
peopled with the images of the beings of an earth-world yet to
come into being, or else of a kind of cosmic womb from which
the First People were to have their origin. In the former type
of legend, the action begins with the descent of a heaven-born
Titaness; in the latter, the first act portrays the ascent of the
ancestral beings from the place of generation. Uniformly, the
next act of the world drama details the deeds of a hero or of
twin heroes who are the shapers and lawgivers of the habitable
earth. They conquer the primitive monsters and set in order
the furniture of creation; quite generally, one of them is slain,
and passes to the underworld to become its Plutonian lord.
The theft of fire, the origin of death, the liberation of the ani-
mals, the giving of the arts, the institution of rites are all



XXIV


INTRODUCTION


themes that recur, once and again, and in forms that show
surprisingly small variation. Universal, too, is the cataclysmic
destruction of the earth by flood, or fire and flood, leaving a
few survivors to repopulate the restored land. Usually this
event marks the close of a First, or Antediluvian Age, in which
the people were either animal in form or only abortively hu-
man. After the flood the animals are transformed once for
all into the beings they now are, while the new race of men is
created. It is not a little curious to find in many tribes tales
of a confusion of tongues and dispersion of nations bringing
to a close the cosmogonic period and leading into that of
legendary history.

Such, in broad outline, is the chart of the Indian’s cosmic
perspective. It is with a view to its fuller illustration that the
myths studied in the ensuing chapters have been chosen from
the great body of American Indian lore.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY




NORTH AMERICAN
MYTHOLOGY


CHAPTER I

THE FAR NORTH

I. NORSEMAN AND SKRAELING

I N the year of our Lord 982 Eric the Red, outlawed from
Iceland, discovered Greenland, which shortly afterward
was colonized by Icelanders. Eric’s son, Leif the Lucky, the
first Christian of the New World, voyaging from Norway to
Greenland, came upon a region to the south of Greenland
where “self-sown corn” and wild vines grew, and which,
accordingly, he named Vinland. This was in the year 1000,
the year in which all Mediaeval Europe was looking for the
Second Advent and for earth’s destruction, but which brought
instead the first discovery of a New World.

As yet no people had been encountered by the Scandina-
vians in the new-found lands. But the news of Vinland stirred
the heart of Thorfinn Karlsefni and of his wife Gudrid, and
with a company of men and two ships they set out for the
region which Leif had found. First they came to a land which
they called Helluland, “the land of flat stones,” which seemed
to them a place of little worth. Next they visited a wooded
land full of wild beasts, and this they named Markland.
Finally they came to Vinland, and there they dwelt for three
winters, Gudrid giving birth to Snorri, the first white child
born on the Western Continent. It was in Vinland that the
Norsemen first encountered the Skraelings: “They saw a
number of skin canoes, and staves were brandished from
their boats with a noise like flails, and they were revolved in
the same direction in which the sun moves.” Thorfinn’s band




2


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


was small, the Skraelings were a multitude; so the colony re-
turned to Greenland in the year 1006.

Apparently no further attempt was made to settle the main-
land, though from time to time voyages were made thither for
cargoes of timber. But the Greenland colony continued, un-
molested and flourishing. About the middle of the thirteenth
century peoples from the north, short and swart, began to
appear; encounters became unfriendly, and in 1341 the north-
ernmost Scandinavian settlement was destroyed. Meanwhile,
ships were coming from Norway less and less frequently, and
the colony ceased to prosper, ceased to be heard from. At the
time when Columbus discovered the Antilles there was a
Bishop of Greenland, holding title from the Pope, but there is
no evidence that he ever saw his diocese, and when, in 1585,
John Davis sailed into the strait now bearing his name all
trace of the Norsemen’s colony was lost.

But the people of the Far North had not forgotten, and
when the white men again came among them they still pre-
served legends of former Kablunait.’' The story of the first
meeting of the two peoples still survived, and of their mutual
curiosity and fear, and of how an Eskimo and a white man
became fast friends, each unable to outdo the other in feats of
skill and strength, until at last the Eskimo won in a contest at
archery, and the white man was cast down a precipice by his
fellow-countrymen. There is the story of Eskimo men lying
in wait and stealing the women of the Kablunalt as they came
to draw water. There are stories of blood feuds between the
two peoples, and of the destruction of whole villages. At Ikat
the Kablunait were taken by surprise; four fathers with their
children fled out upon the Ice and all were drowned; sometimes
they are visible at the bottom of the sea, and then, say the
Eskimo, one of our people will die.

Such are the memories of the lost colony which the Green-
landers have preserved. But far and wide among the Eskimo
tribes there is the tradition of their former association with




PLATE II


Encounter of Eskimo and Kablunait, from a Grcen-
landic drawing. After H. Rink, Taks am/ T?yif/itioas
of the Eskimo,



V





THE FAR NORTH


3


the Tornit, the Inlanders, from whom they were parted hy feud
and war. The Tornit were taller and stronger and swifter
than the Eskimo, and most of them were blear-eyed ; their
dress and weapons were different, and they were not so skil-
ful in boating and sealing or with the bow. Finally, an Es-
kimo youth quarrelled with one of the Tornit and slew him,
boring a hole in his forehead with a drill of crystal. After that
all the Tornit fled away for fear of the Eskimo and since then
the Coast-People and the Inland-Dwellers have been enemies.

In the stories of the Tornit may be some vague recollections
of the ancient Norsemen; more plausibly they represent the
Indian neighbours of the Eskimoan tribes on the mainland,
for to the Greenlanders the Indians had long become a fabulous
and magical race. Sometimes, they say, the Tornit steal women
who are lost in the fog, but withal are not very dangerous;
they keep out of sight of men and are terribly afraid of dogs.
Besides the Tornit there are in the Eskimo’s uncanny Inland
elves and cannibal giants, one-eyed people, shape-shifters,
dog-men, and monsters, such as the Amarok, or giant wolf,
or the horrid caterpillar that a woman nursed until it grew so
huge that it devoured her baby — for it is a region where
history and imagination mingle in nebulous marvel.^

II. THE ESKIMO’S WORLD

There is probably no people on the globe more isolated in
their character and their life than are the Eskimo. Their nat-
ural home is to the greater part of mankind one of the least
inviting regions of the earth, and they have held it for centuries
with little rivalry from other races. It is the coastal region
of the Arctic Ocean from Alaska to Labrador and from Labra-
dor to the north of Greenland: inlandward it is bounded by
frozen plains, where even the continuous day of Arctic sum-
mer frees only a few inches of soil; seaward it borders upon
icy waters, solid during the long months of the Arctic night.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


4

The caribou and more essentially the seal are the two animals
upon which the whole economy of Eskimo life depends, both
for food and for bodily covering; the caribou is hunted in
summer, the seal is the main reliance for winter. But the
provision of a hunting people is never certain; the seasonal
supply of game is fluctuating; and the Eskimo is no stranger to
starvation. His is not a green world, but a world of whites
and greys, shot with the occasional splendours of the North.
Night is more open to him than the day; he is acquainted
with the stars and death is his familiar.

“Our country has wide borders; there is no man born has
travelled round it; and it bears secrets in its bosom of which no
white man dreams. Up here we live two different lives; in
the Summer, under the torch of the Warm Sun; in the Winter,
under the lash of the North Wind. But it is the dark and
the cold that make us think most. And when the long Dark-
ness spreads itself over the country, many hidden things are
revealed, and men’s thoughts travel along devious paths ”
(quoted from “Blind Ambrosius,” a West Greenlander, by
Rasmussen, The People of the Polar North, p. 219).

250
North American Mythology / Re: North American Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:29:30 PM »

INTRODUCTION


XIX


version known to the Arctic Highlanders, where the poign-
ant choice is put, “Will ye have eternal darkness and eternal
life, or light and death?” — art and morality and philosophy
are all intermingled.

To perfect our criterion we must add to the analysis of mo-
tive the study of the sources of mythic conceptions. In a
broad way, these are the suggestions of environing nature,
the analogies of human nature both psychical and physi-
ological, imagination, and borrowings. Probably the first of
these is the most important, though the “nature-myth” is far
from being the simple and inevitable thing an elder genera-
tion of students would make of it. Men’s ideas necessarily re-
flect the world that they know, and even where the mythic
incidents are the same the timbre of the tale will vary, say
from the Yukon to the Mississippi, in the eastern forest, or on
the western desert. There are physiographical boundaries
within the continent which form a natural chart of the divi-
sions in the complexion of aboriginal thought; and while there
are numberless overlappings, outcroppings, and intrusions,
none the less striking are the general conformities of the char-
acter of the several regions with the character of the mythic
lore developed in them. The forests of the East, the Great
Plains, the arid South-West, secluded California, the North-
Western archipelago, each has its own traits of thought as it
has its own traits of nature, and it is inevitable that we sup-
pose the former to be in some degree a reflection of the latter.
Beyond all this there are certain constancies of nature, the
succession of darkness and light, the circle of the seasons, the
motions of sun, moon, and stars, of rivers and winds, that
affect men everywhere and everywhere colour their fancies;
and it is not the least interesting feature of the study of a wide-
spread mythic theme or incident to see the variety of natural
phenomena for which it may, first and last, serve to account,
since the myth-maker does not find his story in nature, but
writes it there with her colouring.



XX INTRODUCTION

The second great source of myth material is found in the
analogies of human nature. Primarily these arc psychical:
the desires and purposes of men are assumed, quite uncon-
sciously, to animate and to inspire the whole drama of nature’s
growth and change, and thus the universe becomes peopled with
personalities, ranging in definition from the senselessly vora-
cious appetites incarnated as monsters, to the self-possessed
purpose and, not infrequently, the “sweet reasonableness”
of man-beings and gods. Besides the psychical, however,
there are the physical analogies of humankind. The most
elementary are the physiological, which lead to a symbolism
now gruesome, now poetic. The heart, the hair, and the breath
are the most significant to the Indian, and their inner meaning
could scarcely be better indicated than in the words of a
Pawnee priest from whom Alice Fletcher obtained her report
of the Hako. One act of this ceremony is the placing of a
bit of white down in the hair of a consecrated child, and in
explaining this rite the priest said: “The down is taken from
under the wings of the white eagle. The down grew close to
the heart of the eagle and moved as the eagle breathed. It
represents the breath and life of the white eagle, the father of
the child.” Further, since the eagle is intermediary between
man and Father Heaven, “the white, downy feather, which is
ever moving as if it were breathing, represents Tirawa-atius,
who dwells beyond the blue sky, which is above the soft, white
clouds”; and it is placed in the child’s hair “on the spot where
a baby’s skull is open, and you can see it breathe.” This is the
poetic side of the symbolism; the gruesome is represented by
scalping, by the tearing out of the heart, and sometimes by
the devouring of it for the sake of obtaining the strength of
the slain. Another phase of physiological symbolism has to do
with the barbarian’s never-paling curiosity about matters of
sex; there is little trace of phallic worship in North America,
but the Indian’s myths abound in incidents which are as un-
consciously as they are unblushingly indecent. A strange and



INTRODUCTION


XXI


recurrent feature of Indian myth is the personification of
members of the body, especially the genital and excretory
organs, usually in connexion with divination. The final step
in the use of the human body as a symbol is anthropomor-
phism — that complete anthropomorphism wherein mythic
powers are given bodies, not part human and part animal,
but wholly human; it marks the first clear sense of the dig-
nity of man, and of the superiority of his wisdom to that of
the brutes. Not many Indian groups have gone far in this
direction, but among the more advanced it is a step clearly
undertaken.

Imagination plays a part in the development of myth which
is best realized by the aesthetic effect created by a body of
tales or by a set of pictorial symbols. The total impression of
Indian mythic emblems is undoubtedly one of grotesquerie, but
it is difficult to point to any pagan religious art except the
Greek that has outgrown the grotesque; and the Indian has a
quality of its own. There is a wide difference, however, in
the several regions, and indeed as between tribes of the same
region. The art of the North-West and of the South-West are
both highly developed, but even in such analogous objects as
masks they represent distinct types of genius. The Navaho
and the Apache are neighbours and relatives, but they are
poles apart in their aesthetic expression. Some tribes, as the
Pawnee, show great originality; others, as the northern Atha-
pascans and most of the Salish, are colourless borrowers.

Borrowing is, indeed, the most difficult of problems to solve.
In the abstract, it is easy to suppose that, with the main simi-
larities of environment in North America and the general even-
ness of a civilization everywhere neolithic, the like conditions of
a like human nature would give rise to like ideas and fancies.
It is equally easy to suppose that in a territory permeable
nearly everywhere, among tribes in constant intercourse, bor-
rowing must be extensive. Both factors are significant, though
in general the obvious borrowing is likely to seem the more



XXll


INTRODUCTION


impressive. Nevertheless, universal borrowing is a difficult
hypothesis, for innumerable instances show an identity of Old-
World and New-World ideas, where communication within
thinkable time is incredible. Even in the New World there are
wide separations for identical notions that seem to imply dis-
tinct origins. Thus the Arctic Highlanders, who have only
recently learned that there are other peoples in the world, pos-
sess ideas identical with those of the Indians of the far South.
When such an idea is simply that there is a cavernous under-
world which is an abode of spirits, there Is no need to assume
communication, for the notion is world-wide; but when the two
regions agree in asserting that there are four underworld cav-
erns — an idea which is in no sense a natural Inference — then
the suspicion of communication becomes inevitable. Again,
constellation-myths which see in Corona Borealis a circle of
chieftains. In the Pleiades a group of dancei's, in Ursa Major
a quadruped pursued by three hunters, might have many
independent origins; but when we encounter so curious a story
as that of the incestuous relations of the Sun and the Moon
told by Eskimo in the north and Cherokee in the south, com-
munication is again suggested; and this suggestion becomes
almost certainty when we find, further, that a special incident
of this myth — the daubing of the secret lover with paint or
ashes by which he Is later identified — appears in another
tale found in nearly every part of the continent, the story of
the girl who bore children to a dog.

In the story just mentioned the children of the girl and the
dog sometimes become stars, sometimes the ancestors of a tribe
or clan of men; and this is a fair illustration of the manner in
which incidents having all the character of fiction are made to
serve as explanatory myths by their various users. The funda-
mental material of myth is rather a collection of incidents
fitted into the scheme of things suggested by perception and
habit than the stark invention of nature; and while the inci-
dents must have an invention somewhere, the greater portion



INTRODUCTION


XXlll


of them seem to be given by art and adopted by nature, —
borrowing and adaptation being, for the savage as for the civil-
ized man, more facile than new thinking.

In every considerable collection of Indian stories there are
many adaptations of common ideas and incidents. In different
regions this basic material comes to characteristic forms of
expression. Finally, in the continent as a whole, viewed as one
great region, there is a generally definable scheme, within which
the mythic conceptions of the North American fall into place.
It is in this sense, and with reference to this scheme, that we
may speak of a North American Indian mythological system.

On the side of cosmology, the scheme has already been
indicated. There is a world above, the home of the Sky
Father and of the celestial powers; there is a world below, the
embodiment of the Earth Mother and the abode of the dead;
there is the central plane of the earth, and there are the genii
of its Quarters. But cosmology serves only to define the
theatre; it does not give the action. Cosmogony is the essen-
tial drama. In the Indian scheme the beginning is seldom
absolute. A few tribes recognize a creator who makes or a
procreator who generates the world and its inhabitants; but
the usual conception is either of a pre-existent sky-world,
peopled with the images of the beings of an earth-world yet to
come into being, or else of a kind of cosmic womb from which
the First People were to have their origin. In the former type
of legend, the action begins with the descent of a heaven-born
Titaness; in the latter, the first act portrays the ascent of the
ancestral beings from the place of generation. Uniformly, the
next act of the world drama details the deeds of a hero or of
twin heroes who are the shapers and lawgivers of the habitable
earth. They conquer the primitive monsters and set in order
the furniture of creation; quite generally, one of them is slain,
and passes to the underworld to become its Plutonian lord.
The theft of fire, the origin of death, the liberation of the ani-
mals, the giving of the arts, the institution of rites are all



XXIV


INTRODUCTION


themes that recur, once and again, and in forms that show
surprisingly small variation. Universal, too, is the cataclysmic
destruction of the earth by flood, or fire and flood, leaving a
few survivors to repopulate the restored land. Usually this
event marks the close of a First, or Antediluvian Age, in which
the people were either animal in form or only abortively hu-
man. After the flood the animals are transformed once for
all into the beings they now are, while the new race of men is
created. It is not a little curious to find in many tribes tales
of a confusion of tongues and dispersion of nations bringing
to a close the cosmogonic period and leading into that of
legendary history.

Such, in broad outline, is the chart of the Indian’s cosmic
perspective. It is with a view to its fuller illustration that the
myths studied in the ensuing chapters have been chosen from
the great body of American Indian lore.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY




NORTH AMERICAN
MYTHOLOGY


CHAPTER I

THE FAR NORTH

I. NORSEMAN AND SKRAELING

I N the year of our Lord 982 Eric the Red, outlawed from
Iceland, discovered Greenland, which shortly afterward
was colonized by Icelanders. Eric’s son, Leif the Lucky, the
first Christian of the New World, voyaging from Norway to
Greenland, came upon a region to the south of Greenland
where “self-sown corn” and wild vines grew, and which,
accordingly, he named Vinland. This was in the year 1000,
the year in which all Mediaeval Europe was looking for the
Second Advent and for earth’s destruction, but which brought
instead the first discovery of a New World.

As yet no people had been encountered by the Scandina-
vians in the new-found lands. But the news of Vinland stirred
the heart of Thorfinn Karlsefni and of his wife Gudrid, and
with a company of men and two ships they set out for the
region which Leif had found. First they came to a land which
they called Helluland, “the land of flat stones,” which seemed
to them a place of little worth. Next they visited a wooded
land full of wild beasts, and this they named Markland.
Finally they came to Vinland, and there they dwelt for three
winters, Gudrid giving birth to Snorri, the first white child
born on the Western Continent. It was in Vinland that the
Norsemen first encountered the Skraelings: “They saw a
number of skin canoes, and staves were brandished from
their boats with a noise like flails, and they were revolved in
the same direction in which the sun moves.” Thorfinn’s band




2


NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


was small, the Skraelings were a multitude; so the colony re-
turned to Greenland in the year 1006.

Apparently no further attempt was made to settle the main-
land, though from time to time voyages were made thither for
cargoes of timber. But the Greenland colony continued, un-
molested and flourishing. About the middle of the thirteenth
century peoples from the north, short and swart, began to
appear; encounters became unfriendly, and in 1341 the north-
ernmost Scandinavian settlement was destroyed. Meanwhile,
ships were coming from Norway less and less frequently, and
the colony ceased to prosper, ceased to be heard from. At the
time when Columbus discovered the Antilles there was a
Bishop of Greenland, holding title from the Pope, but there is
no evidence that he ever saw his diocese, and when, in 1585,
John Davis sailed into the strait now bearing his name all
trace of the Norsemen’s colony was lost.

But the people of the Far North had not forgotten, and
when the white men again came among them they still pre-
served legends of former Kablunait.’' The story of the first
meeting of the two peoples still survived, and of their mutual
curiosity and fear, and of how an Eskimo and a white man
became fast friends, each unable to outdo the other in feats of
skill and strength, until at last the Eskimo won in a contest at
archery, and the white man was cast down a precipice by his
fellow-countrymen. There is the story of Eskimo men lying
in wait and stealing the women of the Kablunalt as they came
to draw water. There are stories of blood feuds between the
two peoples, and of the destruction of whole villages. At Ikat
the Kablunait were taken by surprise; four fathers with their
children fled out upon the Ice and all were drowned; sometimes
they are visible at the bottom of the sea, and then, say the
Eskimo, one of our people will die.

Such are the memories of the lost colony which the Green-
landers have preserved. But far and wide among the Eskimo
tribes there is the tradition of their former association with




PLATE II


Encounter of Eskimo and Kablunait, from a Grcen-
landic drawing. After H. Rink, Taks am/ T?yif/itioas
of the Eskimo,



V





THE FAR NORTH


3


the Tornit, the Inlanders, from whom they were parted hy feud
and war. The Tornit were taller and stronger and swifter
than the Eskimo, and most of them were blear-eyed ; their
dress and weapons were different, and they were not so skil-
ful in boating and sealing or with the bow. Finally, an Es-
kimo youth quarrelled with one of the Tornit and slew him,
boring a hole in his forehead with a drill of crystal. After that
all the Tornit fled away for fear of the Eskimo and since then
the Coast-People and the Inland-Dwellers have been enemies.

In the stories of the Tornit may be some vague recollections
of the ancient Norsemen; more plausibly they represent the
Indian neighbours of the Eskimoan tribes on the mainland,
for to the Greenlanders the Indians had long become a fabulous
and magical race. Sometimes, they say, the Tornit steal women
who are lost in the fog, but withal are not very dangerous;
they keep out of sight of men and are terribly afraid of dogs.
Besides the Tornit there are in the Eskimo’s uncanny Inland
elves and cannibal giants, one-eyed people, shape-shifters,
dog-men, and monsters, such as the Amarok, or giant wolf,
or the horrid caterpillar that a woman nursed until it grew so
huge that it devoured her baby — for it is a region where
history and imagination mingle in nebulous marvel.^

II. THE ESKIMO’S WORLD

There is probably no people on the globe more isolated in
their character and their life than are the Eskimo. Their nat-
ural home is to the greater part of mankind one of the least
inviting regions of the earth, and they have held it for centuries
with little rivalry from other races. It is the coastal region
of the Arctic Ocean from Alaska to Labrador and from Labra-
dor to the north of Greenland: inlandward it is bounded by
frozen plains, where even the continuous day of Arctic sum-
mer frees only a few inches of soil; seaward it borders upon
icy waters, solid during the long months of the Arctic night.



NORTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY


4

The caribou and more essentially the seal are the two animals
upon which the whole economy of Eskimo life depends, both
for food and for bodily covering; the caribou is hunted in
summer, the seal is the main reliance for winter. But the
provision of a hunting people is never certain; the seasonal
supply of game is fluctuating; and the Eskimo is no stranger to
starvation. His is not a green world, but a world of whites
and greys, shot with the occasional splendours of the North.
Night is more open to him than the day; he is acquainted
with the stars and death is his familiar.

“Our country has wide borders; there is no man born has
travelled round it; and it bears secrets in its bosom of which no
white man dreams. Up here we live two different lives; in
the Summer, under the torch of the Warm Sun; in the Winter,
under the lash of the North Wind. But it is the dark and
the cold that make us think most. And when the long Dark-
ness spreads itself over the country, many hidden things are
revealed, and men’s thoughts travel along devious paths ”
(quoted from “Blind Ambrosius,” a West Greenlander, by
Rasmussen, The People of the Polar North, p. 219).

251
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253
Oceanic Mythology / Re: Oceanic Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:10:24 PM »


3. Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 492.

4. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 388; Strehlow, 1907, p. 2.

5. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, chh. x, xi, passim; id. 1904, ch. xiii,
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Howitt and Siebert, p. 102.

6. Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 408.

7. Smyth, i. 424, note.

8. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 388. For another version see
Strehlow, 1907, p. 3.

9. (Loritja) Strehlow, 1908, p. 4; (Dieyeri) Gason, 1874, p. 13;
Howitt and Siebert, p. 102; A. W. Howitt, p. 779; (Kaitish) Spencer
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10. New South Wales (Yuin), A. W. Howitt, p. 484;' (Wathi*
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11. West, iL 89.

12. South Australia (Adelaide and Encounter Bay), Wyatt, p. 166;
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Northern Territory (Larakia), Foelsche, p. 15.

13. Smyth, i 424. .

14. Proserpine River, W. E. Roth, p. 16.

15. Encounter Bay, H. A. E. Meyer, 1879, p. 201.; cf. Queensland
(Princess Charlotte Bay), W. E. Roth, p. 15.


342


OGEANIC MYTHOLOGY


16. Thomas, p. 65 (quoted in Smyth, i. 427).

17. (Kaitish) Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 499.

18* Smyth, i. 428. Ci Micronesia, p. 252.

19. Parker, 1898, p. 28.

: 20. Beveridge, 1883, p. 60; Stanbridge, 1861, p. 301; cl Melane-
sia, Woodlark Island, Montrouzier, p. 371.

21. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 561; id. 1904, p. 624; Strehlow,
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22. (Loritja) Strehlow, 1908, p, 8.

23. H. A. E. Meyer, 1879, P* ^too.

24. Pennefether River, W. E. Roth, p. 8*

25. Smyth, i. 430.

26. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 564; Strehlow, 1907, p. 17. The
moon seems to be regarded here as an object, not as a person; but
cf. Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 625.

27. Cf. also Northern Territory (Mara), Spencer and Gillen, 1904,
p. 627.

28. Princess Charlotte Bay, W. E. Roth, p. 7.

29. (Wongibon) Matthews, 1904, p. 359.

30. Cf. Polynesia, supra, Chapter III, Note 91, and Indonesia,
supra, Chapter III, Note 32.

31. Cf. Victoria, Stone, p, 463.

32. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 564; cf. (Loritja) Strehlow, 1908,
p. 8; New South Wales (Kurnu), Matthews, 1904, p. 358.

33. Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 626.

34. For other moon-myths see Northern Territory (Kaitish),
Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p. 625; Central Australia (Dieyeri), M. E.
B. Howitt, p. 406; South Australia (Narrinyeri), H. A. E* Meyer,
1879, p. 200; Victoria, Smyth, i. 431; Queensland (Boulia), W. E.
Roth, p. 7.

35. See jT-zipfiS:, pp. in.

36. Dawson, p. 106.

37. Cf. New South Wales (Kamilarol), Matthews, 1904, p. 354.

38. Victoria (Lake Tyers and Kurnai), Smyth, i. 429, 478; for
other tales of the origin of the sea see Victoria, Smyth, i. 429, note;
Queensland (Pennefether River) W. E. Roth, p* ll.

39. See infra, pp. 281, 284, , .

40. Cf. Queensland (Princess Charlotte Bay), W. E. Roth, p. 12.

41. Victoria (?), Dunlop, p. 23; cf, Melanesia, New Guinea (Ber-
linhafen), Schleiermacher, p. 6;. Indonesia, supra, pp. 180 ff.

42. Brown, p. 509.

.43. (Wongibon) Matthews, 1904, p* 351.

' 44. Cf. (Euahlayi) Parker,; 1896, p. 24; Cameron, p. 368; South
Australia (Encounter Ba5^), H. A. E. Meyer, 1879, p. 203; Vic-



NOTES 343

toria (?), Dunlop, p. 25; Dawson, p. 54; Smyth, i, 458; Queens-
land (Pennefether River), W. E. Roth, p. II.

45. Smyth, i. 459; cf. (Kamilaroi) Ridley, p. 137.

46. Spencer and Gillen, 1899, p. 446; cf* South Australia (Narrin-
yeri), Eylmann, p. 92,

47. Matthew, p. 186.

48. See supra, p. 113,

49. See supra, p. 47.

50. Lake Condah, Smyth, i. 462.

51. Cape Grafton, W. E. Roth, p. ii; cf. Victoria, Stanbridge,
1861, p. 303.

52. (Euahlayi) Parker, 1896, p. 24.

53. (Kulkadoan) Urquhart, p. 87.

54. Gf. Northern Territory, Spencer and Gillen, 1904, p, 619.

55. Milligan, p. 274.

56. Cf* Central Australia (Arunta), Spencer and Gillen, 1899,
P- 445 -

57. See supra, p. 278*

58. Parker, 1896, p. 8; for another version see South Australia
(Narrinyeri), Taplin, 1879b, p. 51-

59. (Arunta) Strehlow, 1907, p. 32; (Loritja) id. 1908, p. 4.

60. But cf. Polynesia, supra, p. 29, and Indonesia, pp. 159,

166.

Chapter II

1. Parker, 1896, p. i; cf. Queensland (Pennefether River) W. E.
Roth, p. 13 ; and supra, p. 146.

2. Smyth, i. 449.

3* Princess Charlotte Bay, W. E. Roth, p. 12.

4. (Narrinyeri), Taplin, x879a, p. 62; Victoria, Matthews, 1907,
p. 44* ,

5* Parker, 1897, pp. 70 ff.

6. Parker, 1898, p. i.

7. (Narrinyeri) Taplin, 1879a, p. 56; H. A. E. Meyer, 1879, p. 201*

8. See supra, p. 274.

9. (Euahlayi) Parker, 1898, p. ii.

10. Wyatt, 1879, P* ^'66*

' II. See supra, p. 139.

12. Dunlop, p. '33* No locality. is given, but Victoria seems to be
indicated.

13. (Euahlayi) Parker, 1898, p. 43.'

14. (Euahlayi) Parker, i8g6, p. ii.

IS- ilatthews, 1904, p..37S. Ci Philippines (Tinguian), Cole,. 191,5,
p. 1 18; (Tagalog) Gardner,' pp. 270, 272; India, D'Penha, p. '142. : ::


344


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


16. ;Gf. Smyth, L 427; Hawaii, Westervelt, 1910, p. 115; Man-
gaia, Gill, 1876, p. 5; Samoa, Stuebel, p. 66.

17. Smyth, i. 447; cf. New South Wales (Euahlayi), Parker, 1896,

P‘ 47-

18* (Arunta) Strehlow, 1907, p. i8.

19. Anonymous, 1907b, p. 29.

20. Victoria (?), Dunlop, p, 29.



BIBLIOGRAPHY




BIBLIOGRAPHY

I. ABBREVIATIONS


Am. Antiq

Arch. f. Anth. * . .
Austr. Assoc. Adv. ScL

BTLF ......


FCM

InL Arch. Eth

JAFL

JAI

JPS

JRSNSW ........

JSBMAS'

MNZG

PJS' ......... .

Proc. N. Z. InsL ......

TNI

TTIF

Ti^PRSf ........

Ti^PMSSA . : . .

FerL Bat Gm. W. .


American Antiquarian.

Archiv fiir Anthropologic.

Australian Association for the Ad-
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Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en
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Indie.

Anthropological Series, Field Co-
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Journal of the Straits Branch of the
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Mededeelingen van wege het Neder-
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Proceedings of the New Zealand
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Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch Indie.

Tijdschrift voor indische Taal-, Land-
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Transactions and Proceedings of the
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Transactions and Proceedings of the
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Verhandelmgen van der Bataviaasch
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Ferh. BerL Ges. Verhandlungen der Berliner Gesell-

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254
Oceanic Mythology / Re: Oceanic Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:07:33 PM »


Borneo, Westenek, 1899, p. 199; (Milanau) Low, i. 347; (Bajau)
Evans, p. 474; Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 392; (Tontem-
boan) Jnynboll, p. 317; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, p. 359; Hal-
mabera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 206; Cham, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.;
Cambodia, Aymonier, pp. 30 ff,; Annam, Landes, 1886b, p. I16.

6. Westenek, 1899, p. 195. For other versions see Crossland,
1, 343; (Bajau) Evans, p. 471; Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 37; Sunda,
Kern, 1900, p. 374; Sumatra (Lampong), van Ophuijsen, p. 129;
Malay, Brandes, 1894b, p. 62; Celebes (Minahassa), Louwerier, 1876,
p. 58; (Toradja) Adriani, 1898, p. 365; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893,
p, 393; Halmalbera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 210.

7. See supray p. 134.

8. Admiralty Islands, Parkinson, p. 713; New Guinea (Kuni),

Egidi, 1913, p. 997.

9. Java, Brandes, 1894a, pp. 40, 133. For other versions see
Borneo (Milanau), Low, i. 347; (Dusun) Evans, p. 477; Philippines
(Visayan), Maxfield and Millington, 1907, p. 313; Cham, Landes,
1900, pp. 235 ff.; Cambodia, Aymonier, pp. 30 ff.

10. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 39. For other versions see ib. pp. 47,
134, 140; Sunda, Kem, 1900, p. 359; Sumatra (Achin), Hurgronje,

ii. 163; (Lampong) van Ophuijsen, p. 126; Borneo, Westenek, 1899,
p. 201; (Bajau) Evans, p. 475; Celebes (Minahassa), Louwerier,
1876, p, 66; (Toradja) Adriani, 1902a, p. 390; Halmahera (Galela),
van Dijken, p. 199; Japan, Serrurier, in Adriani, 1898, p. 344, note.

11. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 39; Winsedt, p. 63; Sunda, Kern, 1900,
p. 359; Sumatra (Achin), Hurgronje, ii. 63; (Lampong) van Ophuij-
sen, p. 127; (Batak) van der Tuuk, p. 215; Pleyte, 1894, p. 267;
Borneo, Westenek, 1899, p. 200; (Bajau) Evans, p. 475; Celebes (Min-
ahassa), Louwerier, 1876, p. 65; (Toradja) Adriani, 1898, p. 359;
id. 1903, p. 391; Sangir Islands, id. 1893, pp. 406, 409; Halmahera
(Galela), van Dijken, p. 199; Cambodia, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff,; id,,
iSSbb, p, 1 17; Malay Peninsula (Perak), Laidlaw, p, 81; India,
Frere, p. 21 !• In some of the versions the captive either makes the
crocodile laugh or open his mouth to give the conqueror’s cry, and so
escapes.

12. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 48; Sumatra (Lampong), van Ophuij-
sen, p. 127; Borneo, Westenek, 1899, p. 20O'; Celebes (Minahassa),
Louwerier, 1876, p. 65; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, p. 406; Hal-
mahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 2004 Cambodia, Aymonier, pp. 30 ff.;
India, F rere, p. 2 1 1 . In some of these versions the crocodile, instead of
floating in the stream, hides in the trickster’s house. When the latter
comes, he says, *Hf it is my^ house, it will answer when I call,” and
the crocodile, answering, betrays himself. .

13. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p, 45; Winsedt, p. 68; Sumatra (Lam-



334


GCEANie, MYTHOLOGY


pong), van Ophuijsen, p. 135; Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 489;
India, Hitopadeiaj l. iv. 9; Jdtakay No. 16.

14. Java, Brandes, 1894a, pp. 37, 132; for other versions see id.
1903, p. 84; Winsedt, p. 68; Snnda, Kern, 1900, p. 366; Sumatra
(Lampong), van Ophuijsen, p. 126; (Batak) Pleyte, 1894, p. 209;
Borneo, Low, i. 347; Celebes (Minahassa), Schwarz, p. 312; (Toradja)
Adriani, 1903, pp. 123, 125; Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 492;
Philippines, Maxfield and Millington, 1906, p. 108; Cambodia, Ay™
monier, pp* 30 ff.; Annam, Landes, 18866, p. 116. The details vary
slightly, but the idea is the same in all.

15. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1910, p. 311 ; Java, Brandes, 1894a,
pp. 43, 135; Malay, id. 1894b, p. 54.

16. See previous note and Java, Brandes, 1903, p. 81; for other
versions see Sunda, Kern, 1908, p. 62; Malay Peninsula (Kedah),
Skeat, 190I5 p. 28; India, Keith-Falconer, p. 27.

: 17. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 43; Malay Peninsula (Kelantan),
Skeat, 1901, p, 45; India, ^ukasaptati. No. 44.

1 8. Sumatra (Lampong), van Ophuijsen, p. 133; (Achin) Hurg-
ronje, ii. 161; Java, Brandes, 1903, p. 83; Sunda, Kern, 1900, p. 370;
Borneo, Westenek, 1899, p. 209; (Bajau) Evans, p. 475; Celebes
(Toradja), Adriani, 1898, p. 362; id. 1910, p. 209; Halmahera
(Galela), van Dijken, p. 222; Philippines (Visayan), Maxfield and
Millington, 1907, p. 315; (Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 198; Malay Pen-
insula (Pahang), Skeat, 1901, p. 331; Cambodia, Aymonier, pp. 30 ff.

19. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 389; (Minahassa) Riedel,
1869c, p. 31 1 ; P. N, Wilken, p. 382; (Parigi) Adriani, 1898, p. 344;
Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, pp. 366, 382; Halmahera (Galela), van
Dijken, p. 198; Borneo (Dusun), Evans, p. 429.

20. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1898, pp. 344, 346; id.igoza, p. 390;
Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, pp. 351, 356, 366, 373, 383; tialmahera
(Tobelo), van Dijken, p. 240; Borneo (Dusun), Evans, p. 430; Malay
Peninsula (Kelantan), Skeat, 1901, p. 6.

21. Landes, 1886b, p. 114.

22. Keith-Falconer, p. 164.

23. Nauru, Hambruch, p. 450.

24. New Guinea (Astrolabe Bay and Finschhafen), Hagen, p. 284;
(Goodenough Bay) Seligmann, p.;4io; Banks Islands, Codringtoii,
p. 36 (cf. Fiji, Fison, p. 22).

25. Funafuti, David, p. 100. . . '

26. Celebes (Minahassa),. Louwerier, 1876, p. 55; Riedel, 1869b,
p. 313; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, p. 414; Halxiiahera (Galela),
van Dijken, p. 205; Java, Kern, 1892, p. 17; Philippines (Bagobo),
Benedict, p. 58; (Visayan) Maxfield and Millington, 1907, p. 316;
(Tagalog) Rizal, p. 245; .(Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 195.



NOTES


33S


.27. Rizal, p. 245.

28. Banks Islands, Codrington, p. 360.

29. Celebes (Toradj a), Adriani, 1898, p. 357; id. 1910, p. 196;
(Miiiahassa) Riedel, 1869b, p. 311; P. N. Wilken, p. 383; Louwerier,
1876, p. 58; (Parigi) Adriani, 1898, p. 358; Sangir Islands, id. 1893,
pp. 406, 420; Rotti, Jonker, 1905, p. 411.

30. Meier, 1909, pp. 49, 187. Cf. Solomon Islands, Fox and Drew,
p. 204.''

31. Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 207; Celebes (Toradj a),
Adriani, "1902a, p. 407; (Minahassa) Riedel, 1869b, p* 313 ; Philippines
(Bagobo), Benedict, p. 59; (Visayan) Maxfield and Millington, 1907,
p. 317; (Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 195; Borneo, Hose and Macdougall,
ii, 148. .

32. Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 208; Riedel, 1869b, p. 313 ;
Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 407; (Minahassa) P. N. Wilken,
p. 382; Sangir Islands, Louwerier, 1876, p. 55; Philippines (Bagobo),
Benedict, p. 60; (Visayan) Maxfield and Millington, 1907, p. 317;
(Tinguian) Cole, 191S5 p* I 9 S; cf. New Zealand, Grey, p. 125.

33. Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 208; Celebes (Minahassa),
Riedel, 1869b, p. 314; Philippines (Bagobo), Benedict, p. 60; (Vis-
ayan) Maxfield and Millington, 1907, p. 318; cf. New Guinea (Nu-
foor), van Hasselt, p. 543; New Caledonia, Lambert, p. 317.

34. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1910, p. 309; cf. Melanesia,
p. 125.

35. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1910, p. 321.

36. Java, Brandes, 1894a, p. 45; Winsedt,p. 62; Celebes (Mina-
hassa), Louwerier, 1872, p. 36; Malay Peninsula (Kedah), Skeat,
1901, p. 20. ?

37. Celebes (Tontemboan), Juynboll, p. 316; Malay Peninsula
(Perak), Laidlaw, p. 87.

38. Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 478; Celebes (Minahassa),
Schwarz, p. 313; P. N. Wilken, p. 380; (Toradja) Adriani, 1903,
p, 124; Sumbawa, Jonker, 1903, p. 280; Savoe, ib. p. 288; Borneo
(Dusun), Evans, p. 428; Philippines (Visayan), Maxfield and Milling-
ton, 1906, p. 109; cf. New Hebrides, Suas, 1912, p. jB.

39. Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 491; cL New Guinea (Nu-
foor), van Hasselt, p. 559; (Kai) Keysser, p. 192.

40. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 426; id. 1910, p. 280;
Borneo, Westenek, p. 205; Java, Brandes, '1894a, p. 40; Sumatra
(Battak), van der Tuuk, p. 85; Pleyte, 1894, pp. 256, 310; (AcMn)
Hurgronje, ii. 162; Malay, Adriani, 1902a, p. 429; Malay Peninsula
(Kelaiitan), Skeat, 1901, pp. 9, 12.,.

41. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani,' 1898, p. 356; id. 1902a, p, 432;
(Minahassa) Riedel, 3:869b, p. ' 311; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893,



OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


336

p. 424; Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 470; Mentawei Islandsj
Morris, p. 95. Cf. Japan, Serrnrier,. in Adrian!, 1898, p, 3,57, note.


Chapter III

1. Adriani, 1898, p, 368.

2. Adriani, 1910, p. 297.

3. (Loda) van Baarda, p, 465.

4. Bezemer, pp, 46 if .

5. Cf. Melanesia, supra^ p, no.

6. Sumatra (Battak), Pleyte, 1894, pp. 117, 222; (AcMn) Hnr-
gronje, ii. 125; Mentawei Islands, Morris, p. 56; Borneo (Kayan),
Nieuwenhnis, i. 67; Celebes (Minabassa), Hickson, p. 264; (To^
radja) Adriani, 1898, p. 367; id. 1910, p, 297; (Tontemboan) Schwarz
and Adriani, pp. 91 ff,; (Tonmboeloe) P. N. Wilken, p. 326; Sangir
Islands, Adriani, 1894, p. 98; Temate, Riedel, in TNI HL v, part 2,
439 ff. (1871); Philippines (Visayan), Maxfield and Millington, 1907,
P* 95 ; (Igorot) Seidenadel, p, 548; (Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 108.

7. New Guinea (Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 534; New Hebrides,
Codrington, pp. 172, 397; Suas, 1912, p, 54; Macdonald, 1892, p. 731,

8. See supra^ p. 64.

9. Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1910, pp. 226 ff.

10. This special form of charm is wide-spread, often in the form,
“If I am the son of a diwaia (Sanskrit devafd, ‘divinity’)/^ etc.,
etc. See for other examples Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1910, pp. 254,
300; Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken, pp* 395, 431; (Loda) van
Baarda, pp. 410, 451, 472; (Tobelo) Hueting, pp. 244, 246, 248, 259,
278; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1894, p. 135; Pliilippmes (Subanun),
Christie, p. 97.

11. For other versions see Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 271 ;
(Loda) van Baarda, pp. 398, 407, 453, 461; Sangir Islands, Adriani,
1894, p. 13s; New Guinea (Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 54S; Aiiiiaiii,
Landes, 1886b, p. 302.

12. Flalmahera (Galela), van Dijken, p. 398.

13. (Toradja) Adriani, 1898, p. 365.

14. See supra^ p. 188.

15. See supra^ p. 156,

,.,.,1,6. For other versions see Celebes (Minahassa), P. N. Wilken,
p. 323; (Bugi) Matthes, p. 441 ; Sumatra (Battak), Pleyte, 1894,
pp. 143, 158, 297; Soemba, Wielenga, p. 176; Kei Islands, Pleyte,
^^ 93 ? P* 563; Riedel, 1886, p. 217.

17. Chamberlain, pp. 1 19 ff.

18. F. Boas, Indianischs Sagen von der Nord^Pacifischen Kusie



NOTES 337

Amerikas^ Berlin, 1895, pp. 94, 99, 149, 190, 238, 254, 289, 352; cf.
Pelew Islands, Knbary, quoted by Boas, p. 352.

19. Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 444.

•20. For other versions (usually without this ending) see van Baarda,
p. 458; (Tobelo) Hueting, p. 274; Sangir Islands, Adrian!, 1894,
p* 160; Borneo (Dusun), Evans, p. 456; (Sea Dyak) Perham, in H. L.
Roth, 1896, i. 301; Nias, Sundermann, 1886, p. 317; New Guinea
(Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 556.

21. Evans, p. 466.

22. This incident is known in other tales also: Celebes (Minahassa),
P. N. Wilken, p. 329; Hickson, p. 266; Borneo (Milanau), Low,
i. 334; (Sea Dyak) Gomes, p. 294.

23. For other versions see (Iban) Hose and Macdougall, ii. 146;
Sangir Islands, Adrian!, 1894, p, 77; Philippines (Visayan), Maxfield
and Millington, 1907, p. 98; (Tinguian) Cole, 191 5, pp. loi, 200; New
Guinea (Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 541; Cham, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.;
Cambodia, Leclere, p. 83; Annam, Landes, 1886b, p. 22.

24. (Dusun) Evans, p. 457.

25. (Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 33.

26. The appearance of fire or a bright light marking the presence
of a beautiful woman is an idea generally current in Malay and In-
donesian tales.

27. For other versions see Halmahera (Tobelo), Hueting, p. 257;
(Galela) van Dijken, pp. 391, 394; Soemba, Wielenga, p. 167; Biliton,
Riedel, 1868, p. 270; Sumatra (Battak), Pleyte, 1894, p. 94; Cham,
Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.; Malay Peninsula, Skeat and Blagden, ii. 343.

28. New Britain, von Pfeil, p. 151; Kleintitschen, p. 332; Meier,
1909, p. 35; New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, p. 168; (Goodenough Bay)
Ker, p. 131.

29. Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 433.

30. The appearance of this distmctly Indian element is, of course,
evidence that the tale is not wholly of native origin- The garudu
seems often to take the place of the cannibal ogre who figures in less
sophisticated stories from the tribes which were not so subject to extra-
Indonesian influences.

31. Cf. Sangir Islands, Adrian!, 1893, pp. 367, 384; Tahiti, Leverd,
1912, p. 2; Federated Malay States (Perak), Laidlaw, 1906a, p. 66,

32. For other examples of this incident see Halmahera (Galela),
van Dijken, p. 264; (Loda) van Baarda, p. 455; (Tobelo) Hueting,
p. 120; Celebes (ToradJ a), Adrian!, 1898, p. 373; Sangir Islands,
Adrian!, 1894, p. 55; Philippines (Bagobo), Benedict, p. 46; for
Ivlelanesian examples see New Guinea (Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 526;
(Jabim) Zahn, p. 337; New Ireland, Peekel, p. 29. A variant type is
that where the impersonator-, is an inanimate object; Philippines


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


338

(Bagobo), Benedict, p. 43; Ftinafuti, David, p. 102; New Guinea
(Gape King William), Stok, p. 274; (Goodenough Bay) Ker, p. 232.

33* This incident of a hidden person, revealed by reflection in the
water, is wide-spread, not only in Indonesia, but farther east in Me-
lanesia. For other examples see Halmahera (Tobelo)^ Hueting, p. 236;
Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 461 ; Rotti, Jonker, 1905, p. 422;
Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915, p. 189; New Guinea (Nufoor),
van Hasselt, p. 571; (Kai) Keysser, p. 164; New Britain, Meier,
1909, p. 85; Parkinson, p. 688; von Pfeil, p. 149; Torres Straits,
Haddon, 1904, p. 89; Gray, p. 657.

34. This incident of the deceitful reflection, for which a person
. dives in vain, is also wide-spread. For other examples see Halmahera
(Tobelo), Hueting, p. 237; (Loda) van Baarda, p. 410; Rotti, Jonker,
1905, p. 422; Philippines (Bagobo), Benedict, p. 41; (Tinguian) Cole,
1915, p. 189; New Guinea (Nufoor), van Hasselt, p. 371; (Cape
King William) Stolz, p. 264; Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p. 34;
New Hebrides, Suas, 1911, p. 908.

33. For other instances of the “Ariadne’^ theme see Halmahera
(Loda), van Baarda, pp. 425, 468; New Guinea (Cape King William),
Stolz, p. 275; (Kai) Keysser, p. 169.

36. For other versions of this incident see Sangir Islands, Adriani,
1893, p. 368; id. 1894, p. 43; Halmahera’ (Tobelo), Hueting, p. 272;
(Loda) van Baarda, p. 439.

37. Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1894, pp. 32 ff.

38. (Loda) van Baarda, p. 438.

39. For other comparable versions see (Tobelo) Hueting, pp. 75,
272; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1894, pp. 43, fo; Annam, Landes, 1886b,
pp. 52 ff.; Cham, Id. 1900, pp. 235 ff.; New Guinea (Nufoor), van
Hasselt, p. 526,

40. van Dijken, p. 430.

41. (Tinguian) Cole, 1915, p. 94.

42. The incident of the husband being sent to a distant place to
get food or other objects of a special sort for his wife, who is about to
give birth to a child, is not uncommon. See for other examples
(Subanun) Christie, p, 96; Sumatra (Dairi Battak), see supray Part
III, Chapter I, Note 26; New Zealand, White, i. 68; Hawaii, For-
nander, ii. 16.

43. For other examples of a child born to a woman abandoned in a
tree or pit, cf. New Guinea ;(Tami), Bamler, p. 537; (Goodenough
Bay) Ker, p. 22; Funafuti, David, p. 107; and supray p. 12H.

44. In Tinguian tales this is the usual method in which a child is
born. For other examples see. Cole, 1913, pp. 38, 81, 87, 93, 151,
etc. Birth from a blister or boil, or from an unusual part of the
body, is a common incident, in Oceanic tales. For other instances



NOTES


339


see Micronesia, Naum, Hambruch, pp. 387, 451; Caroline Islands,
von Kotzebue, iii. 198; Melanesia, New Guinea (Wagawaga), Selig-
mann, p. 378; Fiji, Williams and Calvert, p. 171; Polynesia, Cook
Group, Gill, 1876, p. 10; Society Group, Moerenhout, i. 426; Annam,
Landes, 1886b, p. 174; India, D’Penha, p. 142.

45. This incident strongly resembles that of Maui’s return to his

brothers; see p. 42.

46. Cf. for other examples of the life-token Halmahera (Loda), van
Baarda, p. 484; Soemba, Wielenga, p. 61; New Guinea (Goodenough
Bay), Ker, p. 61 ; Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p. 34; New Hebrides,
Codrington, p. 401.

47. See Cole, 1915, p. 18, note i.

48. (Loda) van Baarda, p. 394.

49. For other examples of this incident see van Baarda, p, 459;
Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915, p. 75; Annam, Landes, 1886b,
p. 184.

50. Cf. (Tobelo) Hueting, p. 293.

51. Celebes (Minahassa), P. N. Wilken, p. 304. For other versions
see (Toradja) Adrian!, 1898, p. 367; (Bugi) Matthes, p. 471; Halma-
hera (Tobelo), Hueting, pp. 249, 284; (Loda) van Baarda, p. 449;
Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1894, P* Philippines (Tagalog), Gardner,
pp. 266, 270.

52. For other versions of this incident see Celebes (Toradja), Adri-
an!, 1898, p. 370; Halmahera (Tobelo), Hueting, p. 251; (Loda) van
Baarda, p. 416; Bali, van Eerde, pp. 43, 47; Lombok, lb. p. 36;
Soemba, Wielenga, p. 255; Philippines (Bagobo), Benedict, p. 53;
Annam, Landes, 1886b, pp. 150, 174.


PART IV
Chapter I

1. Kubary, passim. ,

2. Walleser, p. 609; Cantova, p. 224.

3. Girschner, 1.912, p. 187.

4. Newell, 1895a, p. 231.

5. See supra, p. 19.

6. Erdland, p. 308.

7. Walleser, p. 609.

8. St John, i. 213; Chalmers, in H. L. Roth, 1S96, i. 307*

9. See supra, p. 159.

10. Hambruch, p, 381. ^ ^

11. Cf. supra, p. 37.


340


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


12. Hambruch, p. 385.

13. Cf. Samoa (see supra^ p. 20) and Borneo (see supra, p. 165).

14. a. supra, p. $1.

15. Erdland, p. 310; cl supra, p. 17.

16. Cantova, p. 223.

17* Girschner, 1912, p. 187,
ik Girschner, 1912, p. 188.

19* Von Kotzebue, iii. 198.

20. Erdland, p. 309.

21. Hambruch, pp. 387, 451.

22. Cf. also for other examples Part III, Chapter III, Note 44.

23. See p. 157.

24. Parkinson, ii. 104.

25. Erdland, p. 311.

26. Kubary, p. 45.

27. Parkinson, ii. 106.

2K Hambruch, p. 382.

29. Kubary, p. 47.

30. Girschner, 1912, p. 191.

31. Walleser, p. 611.

32. Cantova, p. 224.

33. Kubary, p. 44.

34. Parkinson, ii. 104.

35. Kubary, p. 47.

36. Girschner, 1912, p. 185.

37. Cf. supra, p. 47.

38. Hambruch, p. 442.

39. a. supra, p.

40. Cf. Polynesia, supra, pp. 47 fF.

41. Hambruch, p, 388.

42. Cf. Samoa, Stair, 1896, p. 57; Pritchard, p. 116; Turner, 1861,
p. 254; Stuebel, p. 65; Marquesas, Radiguet, p. 230.

43. See supra, pp. 47 ff.

44. Walleser, p. 620.

45. Borneo (Iban), Dunn, p. 17.

46. Cf. Borneo (Sea Dyak), Perham, in H. L. Roth, 1896, i. 301;
(Dusun) Evans, p. 470.

47. Kubary, p. 46. ?

Chapter II

1, Girschner, 1912, pp. 188 ff.. See also, for another version, von
Kotzebue, iii. 198. '

2 . supra, pp. 122 ff.



NOTES


341


3. See supra^ p. 65.

4. Cf* Melanesia, Nauru, Hambruch, p. 391; New Guinea,
DempwolfF, p. 74; Hagen, p. 282; Solomon Islands, Fox and Drew,
p. 204; Funafuti, David, p. 107.

PART V
Australia

I. Schmidt, 1912, 1913, passim.

Chapter I

1. See, for example, (Loritja) Strehlow, 1908, p. 2; New South
Wales (Yuin), A. W. Howitt, p. 495.

2. New South Wales (Kamilaroi), Greenway, p. 242; Ridley,
P* 135; (Wailwun) Greenway, p. 249; (Ilawarra) Ridley, p* 137;
South Australia (Marura), Taplin, 1879b, p. 27; (Narrinyeri) id.
1879a, p. ss; Wyatt, p. 166; Northern Territory (Larakia), Foelsche,
p. 15.

255
Oceanic Mythology / Re: Oceanic Mythology
« on: August 03, 2019, 07:06:26 PM »

17. Cf. Polynesia: Samoa, Abercromby, 1891, p. 460; Stuebel,
pp. 75, 145, 151; Chatham Island, Shand, 1894, p. 128; Indonesia:
Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915, pp. 15, 63, 68, 71, 83, 125, etc.;
Micronesia: Marshall Group, Erdland, p. 311.

18. Gazelle Peninsula, Meier, 1909, p. 25; cf. also ib. p. 205.

19. Cf. Indonesia, Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 191S5 PP- 62,
68, etc.; and Micronesia, in/ra, p. 251.

20. Cf. New Guinea (Kuni), Egidi, 1913, p. 1002.

21. New Guinea (Jabim), Zahn, p. 373; (Tami) Bamler, p. 540.

22. Malanta, Codrington, p. 21.

23. Cf. Indonesia, infra^ p. 168.

24. Parkinson, p. 685; Kleintitschen, p. 332; Meier, 1909, p. 35;
O. Meyer, p. 713.

25. Cf. Indonesia, infra^ pp. 218 ff.

26. Holmes, p. 126.

27. Codrington, p. 26.

2 %. Bley, p. 198.

29. Codrington, p. 156.

30. (Simbang) Hagen, p. 289.

31. Bley, p. 198.

32. Cf. Bley, p. 200; also Gazelle Peninsula, Meier, 1909, p. 109;
(Sulka) Rascher, p. 230; New Guinea (Goodenough Bay), Ker, p. 26;
(Taupota) ? Seligmann, p. 403; New Hebrides, Codrington, pp. 370,
372; Macdonald, 1898, p. 760; Samoa, Turner, 1884, p. 6; Malay
Peninsula, Skeat and Blagden, ii. 339.

33. Meier, 1907, p. 650.

34. (Moresby) Romilly, 1889, p. 136.

35. (Bogadjim) Hagen, p. 288.

36. Montrouzier, p. 369 (reprinted in Haddon, 1894, p. 318).

37. Cf. Australia, tnfray p. 275.' ?

38. Seligmann, p. 378.

39. Cf. Fiji, Williams and Calvert, p. 171; Polynesia, Cook Group,
Gill, 1876, p. 10; Society Group, ;Moerenhout, i. 426; and Indonesia,
infray p. 234. ?



3H


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


40. Gf. Fiji, Fisoiij pp. 34, 50; Samoa, Fraser, 1891, p. 243.

41. Ci Solomon Islands (Ysabel), Codrington, p. 366; Celebes
(Minahassa), Hickson, pp. 311, 317; P. N. Wilken, p. 328.

42. Cf. New Britain (Snlka), Rascher, p. 235; New Guinea (Kuni),
Egidi, 1913, p. 990.

43. Codrington, p. 156.

44. Lawes, p. 371; cf. Chalmers, p. 118; Gill, 1911, pp. 120, 126;
Ker, p. 99; Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p. 17; Admiralty Islands,
Meier, 1907, p. 659.

45. Cf. Philippines (Igorot), Beyer, p, 96; Seidenadel, p. 486.

46. Seligmann, p. 379.

47. Cf. New Guinea (Daudai), Beardmore and Haddon, p. 462;
Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p, 17; and widely in Polynesia, see
supra^ 47 ff.

48. Cf. Polynesia, supra^ p. 47.

49. Meier, 1907, p. 654; cf. ib. pp. 653, 656.

50. Cf. New Britain (Gazelle Peninsula), Meier, 1909, p. 37; New
Guinea (Goodenough Bay), Ker, p. 149.

51. (Sulka) Rascher, p. 234; cf. New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, p. 202.

52. Suas, 1911, p. 907.

53. Cf. Codrington, pp. 169, 286; Macdonald, 1892, p, 731; Lamb,
p. 216.

54. Codrington, p. 265 (ci ib. pp. 283, 286); Suas, 1912, p. 44;
Macdonald, 1898, p. 764; Solomon Islands, Codrington, pp. 260,
365; New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, pp. 162, 236; New Britain (Gazelle
Peninsula), Meier, 1909, p. 37; Kleintitschen, p. 334; Admiralty
Islands, Meier, 1908, p. 193.

55. Codrington, p. 265.

56. Bley, p. 198; cf. Gazelle Peninsula, Meier, 1909, p. 107; Ad-
miralty Islands, Meier, 1908, p. 194.

57. Meier, 1908, p, 194; cf. New Britain (Gazelle Peninsula),
Kleintitschen, p. 334; New Guinea (Moresby), Romilly, 1889, p. 154.

58. (Goodenough Bay) Ker, p. 30.

59. Ker, p. 52.

60. Cf. Fiji, Fison, p. 29.

61. See infra^ pp. 180 ff.

62. Gill, 1912, pp. 61 ff.

Chapter II

1. Cf. for Micronesia, Pelew Islands, Kuba.ry, P..47.'

2. Meier, 1909, p. 27. . .

3. Ci New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, p. 187; Philippines (Tagalog),
Gardner, p. 104; Celebes (Minahassa), Graafland, i. 165; Sumbawa,



NOTES 32s

Jonker, 1903, p. 251; Malay Peninsula (Perak), Anonymous, 1907a,

P- 73- . ,

4. Cf. New Guinea (Goodenough Bay), Ker, p, 136.

5. Meier, 1909, p. 59.

6. Meier, 1909, pp. 13-81; von Pfeil, p. 150 ff,; Kleintitsclien,
p. 33 1; (Sulka) Rascher, p. 233.

7. (Bilibili) Dempwolff, pp. 69-81.

8. Cf. Ker, pp. 136 ff.

9. -Yet cf. New Guinea (Wagawaga), Seligmann, p. 379.

10. Codrington, p. 156.

1 1. Cf. New Zealand, White, ii. 64, no, 117, etc.; Tonga, Mariner,
is. no.

12. Set supray p. 104.,

13. Codrington, p. 158.

14. This incident of the tree made whole is very widely distributed
through the whole of Oceania. For other examples in Melanesia see
Santa Cruz, O’Ferral, p. 227; New Caledonia, Lambert, p. 329; New
Guinea (Kuni), Egidi, 1913, p. 999; (Taupota) Seligmann, p. 403;
(Huon Gulf and Bilibili) Dempwolff, p. 76; (Tarnl) Bamler, p. S 3 i>
(Jabim) Zahn, p. 390; for Polynesian examples see supra^ p. 60 and
Part I, Chapter III, Note 38; for Indonesia see Borneo, Gomes,
p. 311; Philippines (Igorot), Seidenadel, p. 539; for Micronesia see
Erdland, p. 245.

15. Codrington, p. 159.

16. Codrington, pp. 160 ff.

17. Aurora, Codrington, p. 168.

18. Whitsuntide, Codrington, p. 169.

19. Codrington, p. 171.

20. Cf. Ambrym, Suas, 1911, p. 906.

21- Codrington, p. 170.

22. Suas, 1912, pp. 34 ff.

23. For other examples of the inexhaustible vessel of food see
Aurora, Codrington, p. 168; New Britain, Bley, p. 215; Tonga,
Fison, p. 81; Borneo (Dusun), Evans, p. 462; (Sea Dyak) Perham,
1886, p. 278; Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915, pp. 34, 119; (Igo-
rot) Jenks, p. 201; Rotti, Jonker, 1906, p. 410; Pelew Islands, Ku-
bary, p. 45. ^

24. Cf. Micronesia, infra^ p. 260. In New Britain (Gazelle Penin-
sula) we also find the belief that the evil or foolish brother is killed
by the good; cf. Kleintitschen, p. 336.

25. Ci the similarity between Panggu or Panku, the creator deity
among the Tami and Kai people of New Guinea (see Keysser, pp. 1 55,
192), and Panku, the cosmic creator, deity of the Chinese. It is pos-
sible (?) that this is the result of Chinese contact in recent times.



326


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


Chapter III

I. Rascher, pp. 230 ff.

A2. Cf. NewGumea (Kai), Keysser, p. 179; (Goodenough Bay)
Ker, p. 123; Seligmann, p. 414; (Moresby) Romilly, 1889, p. 121;
(Euni) Egidij 1913, p. 992; Santa Cruz, OTerral, p, 232; New
Hebrides (Aurora), Codrington, p. 403; Polynesia, Funafuti, David,
p. 107; New Zealand, Shand, 1896, p. 197; Chatham Islands, ib»
p. 195; Manihiki, Te Whitu, p. 97; cf. also Indonesia, Philippines
(Subanun), Christie, p. 102.

3. Aurora, Codrington, p. 398.

4. Cf. Banks' Islands, Codrington, p. 395, note; New Ireland,
Peekel, pp. 4S, SI.

5. For other instances of the life-token see Torres Straits, liad-
don, 1904, p. 34; New Guinea (Goodenough Bay), Ker, p. 61; In-
donesia, Halmahera (Loda), van Baarda, p. 484; Soemba, Wielenga,
p. 61; Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915, p. 96.

6. Cf. for the incident of killing the cannibal or monster with hot
stones New Guinea (hloresby), Romilly, 1889, p. 125; (Tami)
Bamler, p. 535; (Nufoor) van Hasselt, p. 526; Indonesia, Celebes
(Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 461; Philippines (Tinguian), Cole, 1915,
p. 199; Polynesia, see supra^ p. 69.

7. Zahn, p. 337.

8. Zahn, p. 340.

9. Cf. Indonesia, infra, p. x88; also Admiralty Islands, Parkin-
son, p. 713; New Guinea (Kuni), Egidi, 1913, p. 997.

10. StQ supra, p, 130.

11. New Guinea (Goodenough Bay), Ker, p. 21.

12. Cf. . New' Guinea (Tami), Bamler, p. 537; Philippines (Tiii-
guian), Cole, 191$, p. 96; Marshall Group, Erdland, p. 279; New
Zealand, Wohlers, p. 10.

, ?; 1,3, See supra, p... 64.

14. See infra, pp. 206 ff.

15. Codrington, p, 172; Suas, 1912, p. 54; cf. Efate, Macdonald,
1892, p. 731; id. 1898, p. 765; Aurora, Codrington, he. cii.; 'Banks
Islands, lb. p. 397; New Guinea (Bilibili), Dempwolff, p. 82.

16. Cf. the tales of sky-peoplewho come down to fish, Santa Cruz,
OTerral, p. 231; Rotumah, Romilly, 1893, p. 143.

17. Cf. New Guinea (Nufoor), van. .Hasselt, p. 535; Philippines
(Viscayan), Maxfield and Millington, 1907, p. 96; Sumatra (Batak),
Pleyte, 1894, P- (Achin) Hurgronje, ii. 126; Aiinam, l^andcs,
1886, p. 123. It is possible that there is something more than a co-
incidence in the resemblance of the name by which the swan-maidens



...... ;NOTES . , ; . 327

are known in Lepers Island, to their Sanskrit prototypes,

th.tvidhyadhaTas,

18. Snas, 1912, p. 54.

19. Cf. Efate, Macdonald, 1898, p. 764; Aurora, Codrington,
p. 398; Whitsuntide, ib. p. 169; Torres Islands, ib. p. 375; New
Guinea (Tami), Bamler, p. 532; (Jabim) Zahn, p. 390. The dis-
tribution of this incident of the arrow-chain in the North Pacific area,
particularly upon the American coast, is a feature of considerable
interest. See F. Boas, Indianische Sagen von der Nord’-Pacifischen
Kuste Amerikas, Berlin, 1895, pp. 17, 3 L 64, 117, 157, 173, 215, 234,
246, 278; also Mythology of all Races^ Boston, 1916, x. 255.

20. Gazelle Peninsula, Meier, 1909, p. 85.

21. Cf. New Hebrides (Tanna), Gray, p. 657; Torres Straits, Had-
don, 1904, p, 89; New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, p. 164; (Nufoor) van
Hasselt, p, 571; Indonesia, see m/m, p, 226.

22. Cf. Parkinson, p. 688; Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa, Mariner, ii.
1 16; Manihiki, Gill, 1915, p. 151; Celebes (Todjo), Adriani, 1902b,
p. 210.

23. (Bukaua) Lehner, p. 480.

24. For other examples of the belief that dawn or daylight drives
away ghosts and spirits or makes them assume another form see
m/m, p. 144 and also New Guinea (Kai), Keysser, pp. 163, 199, etc.;
(Goodenough Bay) Ker, p. 76; New Hebrides, Codrington, p. 409;
Netv Zealand, Grey, p. 66.

25. Cf. (Tami) Bamler, p. 526; (Jabim) Zahn, p. 369; (Good-
enough Bay) Ker, p. 59; Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p. 24.

26. Keysser, p. 197.

27. Cf. Keysser, p. 233.

28. (Ureparapara), Codrington, p. 360; cf. also Indonesia, m/m,

p. 194.^ ^ ?

29. Codrington, p. 364,

30. Goodenough Bay, Ker, p. 3.

31. Gazelle Peninsula, Meier, 1909, p, 285.

32. Cf. Australia, m/m, p. 288.


PART III
Chapter I

1. Beyer, p. 99, note 34, znd. passim^

2. Schmidt, 1906, passim* ” . ?

3. See Note 47, m/m.

4. G. A. Wilken, 18S4, p. 232; .Kruijt, 1906, p. 467*



OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


328

5. Riedel, 1886, p. 2i7; Pleyte, 1893, p. 563.

6. The first portion of this myth, i.e. the incident of the lost
fish-hook and its recovery, is in one form or other widely spread
in Indonesia, outside the Kei Islands occurring also in Halmahera,
Soemba, Celebes, and Sumatra. It is likewise known from Japan
(Chamberlain, pp. 119 ff.) and the North-West coast of America (see
F. Boas, Indianische Sagen mn der Nord^Pacifischen Kuste Jmerikas^
Berlin, 1895, pp. 94, 99, 149, 190, 238, 254, 289, and ci S» T. Rand,
Legends of the Micmacs^ New York, 1894, p. 87).

7. Schwarz and Adriani, iL 397 ff.

8. Schwarz and Adriani, ii. 389; cf. ib. p. 377, and Graafland, L
21 1 ; Kruijt, 1906, p. 47; Juynboll, p. 327.

9. Cf. Loeang-Sermata, Riedel, x886, p. 312; Formosa, Davidson,

pp.SySff.

10. Probably the sky-world.

11. Reiter, p. 236.

12. Bastian, 1894, p. lo; cf. also Union Group, Hutchin, p. 173.

13. Banks Islands, Codrington, p, 156.

14. Furness, p. 6.

15. Cf. Samoa, von Biilow, 1899,

16. Nieuwenhuis, i. 129.

17. Cf. Nauru, Hambruch, p. 381.

18. For still another version see Nieuwenhuis, ii. 113.

19. Schwaner, i. 177.

20. A serpent with a precious stone in or on its head frequently
appears in Indonesian tales: Celebes (Central), Adriani and Kruijt,
p. 158; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1894, p. 33. It is common also
among the Malays of the Peninsula (Malacca, Skeat, 1900, p. 303)
and is widely current in India (Crooke, ii. 143). From its distribu-
tion it seems clear that the idea was introduced into Indonesia from
Indian sources.

21. Cf. Schwaner, i. 177.

22. Hupe, p. 138.

23. Schwaner, loc. ctL,

24. Warneck, p. 28; cf. Kodding, p. 405; Pleyte, 1894, p. ,52;
id. 189s, p. 103. ^

25. Other versions say the three sons were born from three eggs
laid by a giant butterfiy and that they received their wives from
Mula Dyadi, who sent them down from above,

26. Van der Tuiik, p. 48; Pleyte, 1894, p. 56.

27. Westenberg, p. 214; de Haan, p. 14; ? Pleyte, 1894, p. 82. ?

28. See supra, p. 18.

29. Mindanao (Bllaan), Cole, 1913, p. 136.

30. See supra, p, iB,



NOTES


329


31. See p. i8.

32. Carolmes, Walleser, p. 610.

33. Kramer, p. 514; Fraser, 1891, p. 264.

34. Reiter, p. 444; cf. also Society Group, Bovis, p. 45; Philip-
piaes, Fraser, 1897, p. 26.

35. Sundermann, 1884, p. 449.

36. See p. 29.

37. Von Biilow, 1899, p. 61.

38. See supra^ p. 21.

39. Cf. the myth of the origin of man, as given from the Society
Group, supra, pp. 26 ff.

40. Van Eerde, p. 39.

41. Donleben and Christie, p. 175; cf. also Horner, p. 368.

42. Mindanao (Mandaya), Cole, 1913, p. 173; cf. also (Tagalog)
Gardner, p. 112.

43. Riedel, 1869a, p. 265.

44. Agerbeek, p. 153. ^

45. Igorot, Beyer, p. 94; Seidenadel, p. 487; Jenks, p. 201; Ifugao,
Beyer, pp. loi, 113.

46. White, i. 130; Smith, 1913, p. 144; Shortiand, p. 22; Wohlers,

47. E. Lunet de Lajonquiere, Ethnographie du Tonkin septentrional,
Paris, 1906, pp. 234, 262; S. R. Clarke, Among the Tribes in South-
West China, London, 1911, pp. 43 ff.; P. Vial, Les Lolos; Histoire,
mwurs, langue et ecriture, Shanghai, 1898 (quoted in Tooting Pao,
IL viii. 666 ff, [1907]); C. Gilhodes, ^‘Mythologie et religion des
Kachins,’^ in Anthropos, iii. 683 ff. (1908).

48. This incident also occurs in the Loeang-Sermata Group; see
Riedel, 1886, p. 31 1.

49. Kramer, p. 516; Sierich, 1902, p. 167.

50. Fison, p. 33.

51. Dunn, p* 16.

52. Horsbiirgh, p. 20; McDougall, p. 27.

53. Apparently traceable to Muhammadan and Indian influenees;
see G, A. Wilkeii, 1884, p. 247; and, for an opposite opinion, Schmidt,
1910, p. 7, note 6.

54. Riedel, 1886, pp. 312,367.

55. See jMpm, p. 156.

56. Riedel, 1886, passim,

57. See supra, p. 159. ? ?

58. Chatelin, p. i io; Sundermann, 1884, p. 449; Modigliani, p. 614.

59. Riedel, 1886, p, 90,

60. Riedel, 1886, p. 217.,. ?

61 « Riedel, 1886, p. 275., ?



330


OCEANIC MYTHOLOGY


62. See p. 157.

63* Nieuweiihuisen and Rosenberg, p. 108.

.,64. Chatelin, , p, no; ? Sundermann, 1884, p. 349; Lagemann,

pp. 341 ff.

65. See previous note.

66. Beyer, p. loi.

67. Riedel, 1886, pp. 190, 218, 247, 275, 289.

6^ Riedel, 1886, p. 148,

69. Riedel, 1886, p. 32.

70. Riedel, 1886, p. 3,

71. Riedel, 1886, p. 431*

72. Taylor, p. 197.

73. Hickson, p. 246.

.74,; Marsden, p. 302.

75. Furness, p. 7; Nieuwenhuis, ii. 113.

76. Schwaner, i. 178.

77. Sundermann, 1884, p. 449.

78. Riedel, 1886 (Amboina), p. 32; Ceram, ib. p. 89; Gorrom, ib*
p. 148; Aru Islands, ib. p. 247; Leti, ib, p. 367.

79. Riedel, 1886, p. 190.

80. Riedel, 1886, p. 218.

81. Cf. New Guinea (Elema), Holmes, p. 126,

82. Pleyte, 1895, p. 103.

83. Mindanao (Mandaya), Cole, 1913, p* 173.

84. Schwaner, i. 177 ff.

85. Pleyte, 1894, p. 52.

86. See p. 157.

87. Taylor, p. 122; Davidson, pp. 578, 580.

88- Beyer, p. 112.

89. Perez, p. 319; Beyer, pp. 94, 96; Jenks, p. 20i; Seidenadel^

p. 485.

90. Cole, 1913, p. 173.

91. Beyer, p. loi.

92. See supra^ p, 164.

93. Gardner, p. 112.

94. Agerbeek, p. 156.

95. (Bantik) Riedel, iSdga, p. 266,

96. Kruijt, 1906, p. 471; (Loda) van Baarda, p. 444.

97. Hickson, p. 246,

98. Benedict, p, 15.

99. Pleyte, 1B94, p. 61.

100. Schwaner, i. 179,

101. Kruijt, 1906, p. 469,

102. Kruijt, 1894, p. 339.



NOTES


331


103. Furnessj p. ii.

104. Diinnj p. 16.

105. Horsburgh, p. 20; cf. also McDoxigall, p. 27,

106. Evans5p. 423.

107. Cole, 1913, p. 137.

lok For vivification by whipping cf. Soemba, Wielenga, pp. 45, 65,
168.

109. Cole, 1913, p. 164.
no. Seldenadel, p. 487,
iii> Chatelin, p. no.

112. Excrement, Borneo, Sundermann, 1912, p. 172; skin-scnrf,
Philippines, Cole, 1913, p. 135.

1 13. Nieuwenhuis, i. 131.

114. Furness, p. 7.

115. Schwaner, i. 180.

1 16. Cf. the Dusun, in British North Borneo, who declare that
animals as well as plants were made from the body of the grandchild
of the two great gods (see Evans, p. 478).

117. Beyer, p. 109.
nk Cole, 1913, p. 172.

119. Nieuwenhuis, i. 130.

120. Minahassa, Graafiand, i. 232.

1 21. Cf. the Rarotongan myth in Polynesia (Fraser, 1891, p. 76).

122. Sundermann, 1884, p. 452; Chatelin, p. 114.

123. Cf. Mangaia (Cook Group), where they are the eyes of Vatea
(see Gill, 1876, p. 3).

124. Beyer, p. 105.

125. Cf. the sky-cannibals in Maori mythology, supra^ p. 62.

126. Beyer, p. 105.

127. Beyer, p. 89, 105.

128. Benedict, p. 16. It is interesting to find the very same tale
in the New Hebrides (see Macdonald, 1892, p. 731).

129. McDougall, p. 27; Fornander, i. 6 ^.

130. Evans, p. 433.

131. Hupe, p. 136; Sundermann, 1912, p. 172.

132. ' Chatelin, p, 114.

133. Riedel, 1886, p. 311.

134. Beyer, p. 100.

135.. Beyer, p. 112.

136. Jenks, p. 201; Seidenadel, p. 485 Beyer, p. 95; PereZj.p.jig*

137. Cole, 1915, p. 189.

138. Cole, 1913, p. 164.

139. Cole, 1913, p. 173.

140. Dunn, p. 17; cf. also Hose and Macdougal, ii. 144.



33 ^


OCEANIC' 'MYTHOLOGY


141. Evans, p. 469.

142. A similar tale occurs also among the Sea Dyaks (see Perham,
in H. L. Roth, 1896, i. 301).

143. Chatelm, p. 115,

144. See supray pp, 51 ff.

145. Evans, p. 478.

146. Immortality by casting the skin, as in the case of the snake,
is a wide-spread conception, and is especially common in Melanesia
(see Part II, Chapter I, Note 54). That immortality was offered to
man, but that he failed to hear and come and get the gift, is an idea
also found in Melanesia (see New Britain, Bley, p. 198),

147. Chatelin, p. 114.

148. See supra, pp. 170 ff.

149. Beyer, p. 96; Seidenadel, p. 485.

150. Torres Straits, Haddon, 1904, p. 17; New Guinea (Moresby),
Lawes, p. 371; (Kiwai) Chalmers, p. 118.

151. Beyer, p* 102.

152. See supra, pp. 47 ff.

153. Kruijt, 1894, p. 341.

154. Furness, p. 8.

155. Furness, p. 12.

156. Cf. Nauru, Hambruch, p. 442.


Chapter II

1. Brandes, 1894a, p. 35; Bezemer, p. 87.

2. For other versions in which the tortoise so tricks the ape see
Sunda, Kern, 1900, p. 367; Kangean Islands, van Ronkel, p. 71;
Cham, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.; Annam, id. 1886b, p. 115; Cam-
bodia, Aymonier, pp. 30 ff.

3. Brandes, 1894a, p. 35* For other versions see Sunda, Kern,
1900, p. 367; Sumatra (Achin), Hurgronje, ii. 163; (Lampong) van
Ophuijsen, pp. 129, 140; Kangean Islands, van Ronkel, p. 72; Borneo,
Westenek, 1899, p. 198; (Milanau) Low, i, 347; (Bajau) Evans,
p, 474; Celebes (Toradja), Adriani, 1902a, p. 392; Sangir Islands,
Adriani, 1893, pp. 359, 367,. 386; Halmahera (Galela), van Dijken,
p. 205; Cham, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.

4. Brandes, 1894a, p. 36; Sangir Islands, Adriani, 1893, pp. 368,
385; Cham, Landes, 1900, pp. 235 ff.; Cambodia, loc. cit.; Annam,
id. 1886b, p. 215.

5. This is the Sundanese version, Kern, 1900, p. 366; Brandes,
1894b, p. 382. For other versions see Sumatra (Achin), Hurgronje,
ii. 163; (Lampong) van Ophuijsen, .p.iaS; Malay, Brandes, he. cif.;



NOTES


333