Creation Myths of Primitive America Part 27

"My grandson," said the old man, after a while, "I should like to see somebody; I should like to see something, see people; I should like to have fun and see games of some sort."

"I should like to see them too," answered Tsaroki; "I should like to see them, my grandfather. You are older than I; if you tell me what to do, I will do it."

"My grandson, can you play on anything?"

"I should like to play if you would teach me," said Tsaroki.

The old man put his hand behind him into a basket of things, drew out a flute and gave it to Tsaroki, who took it quickly, he was so glad.

He sat down, crossed his legs, and before he had blown into the flute, just as he touched his lips with it, beautiful sounds came out.

The young man was glad, wonderfully glad. The old man, who sat looking at him, asked,--

"How do you like the flute, my grandson?"

"I like it well," said Tsaroki.

"I am glad to hear you play, my grandson; I am glad when you do something good. When I was young, I used to say good things, I used to do good things. Now, my grandson, think what you would like best to do."

"I should like to hear something nice, to hear music, to hear beautiful sounds."

After he had taken the flute Tsaroki did not sleep; he played for three days and three nights without stopping; then he stopped and asked,--

"What is this flute? What is it made of? It sounds so sweetly."

"My grandson, I will tell you; that flute is of wood,--alder wood.

That is an alder flute, but the wood is people's bones. There were people long ago, and that alder wood grew out of their bones. My grandson, would you like to have another young man with you, or do you wish to be alone? I think it would be better for you to have company."

"My grandfather, I should like to have another man with me; I could talk with him. I could live then more pleasantly."

"My grandson, to see another young man you must go to the west; you must go in the middle of the night, when it is very dark, so that no one may see you. My grandson, it is better for you to go to-night."

"Where? Which way do you want me to go, my grandfather?"

"Go west from here, far away; you will start when it is dark; you will get there in the dark. You will go to where the old woman Nomhawena Pokaila lives: she is your grandmother. When you go to her house, ask her about your brother; she will tell you where he is."

"My grandfather, I don't believe that I can find her house. I don't know what kind of house it is."

"You cannot miss it, my grandson. The night will be very dark; no one will be able to see anything, but you cannot miss the house. It is a little house; no one can see it, but you cannot miss it. You will go there very quickly, though 'tis far from here and the night is dark."

Then the old man showed him a small sand trail; it was bright, just like a ray of light in the darkness, though it was very narrow, as narrow as a hair, and all around it was dark night. The old man had made this trail purposely.

Tsaroki started, and could see the trail straight ahead of him; he went over it as swiftly as an arrow goes from a bow. He travelled right on, and at the end of the trail, just on the trail itself, was a little bark house. He went into this house, and saw an old woman lying there with her back to the fire; she was sleeping on the south side of it. He walked in and stood at the north side. He sat down then, and was sitting a while when the old woman woke, turned her face to the fire, and saw some one opposite. She rose, stirred the fire to make light, looked at the young man, and said,--

"I see some person over there; who is it?"

"My grandmother, I am Tsaroki Sakahl. I have come because my grandfather, Waida Dikit, sent me to see you, so that you might tell me about my brother. I should like to know where my brother lives. I have come to see my brother and speak to him."

"Very well, my grandson, I will tell you. He lives right over here on the west."

As soon as she had finished speaking, Tsaroki stood up and went toward the west. He had not made many steps when he saw a large s.p.a.ce, a broad s.p.a.ce on which a great many people were sitting. The place was dark, but the people could see one another. Tsaroki saw all, and looked around carefully. He saw that all were at work except one man, who was sitting in the middle in a good place. He looked a long time, not knowing what to do, for Waida Dikit had said to him,--

"You must not let any one know but your brother why I sent you, and tell him not to tell others."

No one present saw Tsaroki, and he thought: "I don't know how I shall go to my brother without letting any one know." At last he made up his mind what to do. He went down under the ground where he had been sitting, and came up just in front of the great man, his brother.

The people were dressing skins, making arrow-points, and finis.h.i.+ng arrows. All were at work but the man in the middle. Tsaroki came up in front of him and whispered,--

"My brother, I have come for you. My grandfather sent me to ask you to go to him and not to tell any one."

"That is well. I will go. Let us start."

That was all he said. This big man was Hawt. Tsaroki had brought his flute, but he could not use it, for he had to keep his journey secret and not let himself be seen; he held the flute hidden under his arm.

"Let us go," said Hawt; "you go ahead."

Tsaroki went into the ground, came out where he had been sitting at first, and then went to the house of the old woman, his grandmother.

Hawt stood up to make ready for the journey. The people kept on working. They were all of the Hawt people, and the big man was their chief.

Hawt dressed, and took his bow and arrows. When ready, he turned and said,--

"My people, I am going to leave you, to be gone two or three days, perhaps longer."

That was all he said; he did not say where he was going, nor why. He walked away and went to Nomhawena's house, where Tsaroki was waiting.

The two brothers had been sitting just a little while when the old woman said to them,--

"Now, my grandsons, you must go; you must be at Waida Dikit's before daylight; you must travel while it is dark, we do not wish to let other people know of your journey. Go. I shall be in this house, but shall hear all that is happening at your place."

They left the old woman, and reached Waida Dikit's before daylight.

The old man was up already, and standing by the fire in the middle of the sweat-house combing his red hair, which touched his feet. The moment he went into the house Tsaroki took his flute, lay on his back, and began to play. Hawt stood a while; didn't know where to sit. At last Waida Dikit said to him,--

"My grandson, I am living here in a small house. There isn't much room in it, but go north of the fire and sit there."

Just as Hawt was sitting down at the appointed side, daylight came.

Tsaroki played two nights and two days. Hawt lay in his place and listened.

"My grandson," said Waida Dikit to Tsaroki, "I should like to hear you both play. You must give that flute to Hawt some of the time."

Tsaroki gave the flute to his brother, and from time to time they pa.s.sed it from one to the other. Both played; both made beautiful music. They played day after day, night after night, ten days and ten nights.

"You play well now, both of you, my grandsons. Would you not like to hear other persons play?"

"Oh, we should like that very much; we should like to hear other persons play," said Tsaroki and Hawt.

"I used to hear a friend of mine long ago," said Waida Dikit, "and he played very well. Would you like to have him play with you?"

"Yes, yes; maybe he would teach us to play better."

"My friend is very old now," said Waida Dikit: "he is Kanhlalas Kiemila."