136. At Toʻbĭlhaskĭ′di (in the middle of the first world), white arose in the east, and they17 regarded it as day there, they say; blue rose in the south, and still it was day to them, and they moved around; yellow rose in the west and showed that evening had come; then dark arose in the north, and they lay down and slept.18

Plate II. SAN FRANCISCO MOUNTAIN (DOKOSLÍD), ARIZONA.56

(The sacred mountain of the West.)

137. At Toʻbĭlhaskĭ′di water flowed out (from a central source) in different directions; one stream flowed to the east, another to the south, and another to the west. There were dwelling-places on the border of the stream that flowed to the east, on that which flowed to the south, and on that which flowed to the west also.

138. To the east there was a place called Tan (Corn), to the south a place called Nahodoóla, and to the west a place called Lókatsosakád (Standing Reed). Again, to the east there was a place called Essalái (One Pot), to the south a place called Toʻhádzĭtĭl (They Come Often for Water), and to the west a place called Dsĭllĭtsíbehogán (House Made of the Red Mountain). Then, again, to the east there was a place called Léyahogán (Under-ground House), to the south a place called Tsĭltsĭ′ntha (Among Aromatic Sumac), and to the west a place called Tseʻlĭsíbehogán (House Made of Red Rock).

139. Holatsí Dĭlyĭ′le (dark ants) lived there. Holatsí Lĭtsí (red ants) lived there. Tanĭlaí (dragon flies) lived there. Tsaltsá (yellow beetles) lived there. Woĭntlĭ′zi (hard beetles) lived there. Tseʻyoáli (stone-carrier beetles) lived there. Kĭnlĭ′zĭn (black beetles) lived there. Maitsán (coyote-dung beetles) lived there. Tsápani (bats) lived there. Totsóʻ (white-faced beetles) lived there. Wonĭstsídi (locusts) lived there. Wonistsídikai (white locusts) lived there. These twelve people started in life there.19

140. To the east extended an ocean, to the south an ocean, to the west an ocean, and to the north an ocean. In the ocean to the east lay Tiéholtsodi; he was chief of the people there. In the ocean to the south lived Thaltláhale (Blue Heron), who was [64]chief of the people there. In the ocean to the west lay Tsal (Frog), who was chief of the people there. In the ocean to the north was Idniʻdsĭlkaí (White Mountain Thunder), and he was chief of the people there.20

141. The people quarrelled among themselves, and this is the way it happened. They committed adultery, one people with another. Many of the women were guilty. They tried to stop it, but they could not. Tiéholtsodi, the chief in the east, said: “What shall we do with them? They like not the land they dwell in.” In the south Blue Heron spoke to them, and in the west Frog said: “No longer shall you dwell here, I say. I am chief here.” To the north White Mountain Lightning said: “Go elsewhere at once. Depart from here!”

142. When again they sinned and again they quarrelled, Tiéholtsodi, in the east, would not speak to them; Blue Heron, in the south, would not speak to them; Frog, in the west, would say nothing; and White Mountain Thunder, in the north, would not speak to them.

143. Again, at the end of four nights, the same thing happened. Those who dwelt at the south again committed crime, and again they had contentions. One woman and one man sought to enter in the east (to complain to the chief), but they were driven out. In the south they sought to go in where Blue Heron lay, but again they were driven out. In the west, where Frog was the chief, again they tried to enter; but again they were driven out. To the north again they were driven out. (The chief) said: “None of you (shall enter here). Go elsewhere and keep on going.” That night at Nahodoóla they held a council, but they arrived at no decision. At dawn Tiéholtsodi began to talk. “You pay no attention to my words. Everywhere you disobey me; you must go to some other place. Not upon this earth shall you remain.” Thus he spoke to them.

144. Among the women, for four nights they talked about it. At the end of the fourth night, in the morning, as they were rising, something white appeared in the east. It appeared also in the south, the west, and the north. It looked like a chain of mountains, without a break, stretching around them. It was water that surrounded them. Water impassable, water insurmountable, flowed all around. All at once they started.

145. They went in circles upward till they reached the sky. It was smooth. They looked down; but there the water had risen, and there was nothing else but water there. While they were flying around, one having a blue head thrust out his head from the sky and called to them, saying: “In here, to the eastward, [65]there is a hole.” They entered the hole and went through it up to the surface (of the second world).

146. The blue one belonged to the Hastsósidĭneʻ, or Swallow People.21 The Swallow People lived there. A great many of their houses, rough and lumpy, lay scattered all around. Each tapered toward the top, and at that part there was a hole for entrance. A great many people approached and gathered around275 the strangers, but they said nothing.

147. The first world was red in color; the second world, into which the people had now entered, was blue.22 They sent out two couriers, a Locust and a White Locust, to the east, to explore the land and see if there were in it any people like themselves. At the end of two days the couriers returned, and said that in one day’s travel they had reached the edge of the world—the top of a great cliff that arose from an abyss whose bottom they could not see; but that they found in all their journey no people, no animals of any kind, no trees, no grass, no sage-brush, no mountains, nothing but bare, level ground. The same couriers were then dispatched in turn to the south, to the west, and to the north. They were gone on each journey two days, and when they returned related, as before, that they had reached the edge of the world, and discovered nothing but an uninhabited waste. Here, then, the strangers found themselves in the centre of a vast barren plain, where there was neither food nor a kindred people. When the couriers had returned from the north, the Swallows visited the camp of the newly arrived people, and asked them why they had sent out the couriers to the east. “We sent them out,” was the reply, “to see what was in the land, and to see if there were any people like ourselves here.” “And what did your couriers tell you?” asked the Swallows. “They told us that they came to the edge of the world, yet found no plant and no living thing in all the land.” (The same questions were asked and the same answers given for the other points of the compass.) “They spoke the truth,” said the Swallow People. “Had you asked us in the beginning what the land contained, we would have told you and saved you all your trouble. Until you came, no one has ever dwelt in all this land but ourselves.” The people then said to the Swallows: “You understand our language and are much like us. You have legs, feet, bodies, heads, and wings, as we have: why cannot your people and our people become friends?” “Let it be as you wish,” said the Swallows, and both parties began at once to treat each other as members of one tribe; they mingled one among the other, and addressed one another by the terms of relationship, as, my brother, my sister, my father, my son, etc.23 [66]

148. They all lived together pleasantly and happily for twenty-three days; but on the twenty-fourth night one of the strangers made too free with the wife of the Swallow chief, and next morning, when the latter found out what had happened, he said to the strangers: “We have treated you as friends, and thus you return our kindness. We doubt not that for such crimes you were driven from the lower world, and now you must leave this. This is our land and we will have you here no longer. Besides, this is a bad land. People are dying here every day, and, even if we spare you, you cannot live here long.” The Locusts took the lead on hearing this; they soared upwards; the others followed, and all soared and circled till they reached the sky.

149. When they reached the sky they found it, like the sky of the first world, smooth and hard with no opening; but while they were circling round under it, they saw a white face peering out at them,—it was the face of Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind. He called to them and told them if they would fly to the south they would find a hole through which they could pass; so off they flew, as bidden, and soon they discovered a slit in the sky which slanted upwards toward the south; through this slit they flew, and soon entered the third world in the south.

150. The color of the third world was yellow.22 Here they found nothing but the Grasshopper People. The latter gathered around the wanderers in great numbers, but said nothing. They lived in holes in the ground along the banks of a great river which flowed through their land to the east. The wanderers sent out the same Locust messengers that they had sent out in the second world to explore the land to the east, to the south, to the west, to the north, to find out what the land contained, and to see if there were any kindred people in it; but the messengers returned from each journey after an absence of two days, saying they had reached the end of the world, and that they had found a barren land with no people in it save the Grasshoppers.24

151. When the couriers returned from their fourth journey, the two great chiefs of the Grasshoppers visited the strangers and asked them why they had sent out the explorers, and the strangers answered that they had sent them out to see what grew in the land, and to find if there were any people like themselves in it. “And what did your couriers find?” said the Grasshopper chiefs. “They found nothing save the bare land and the river, and no people but yourselves.” “There is nothing else in the land,” said the chiefs. “Long we have lived here, but we have seen no other people but ourselves until you came.”

152. The strangers then spoke to the Grasshoppers, as they had [67]spoken to the Swallows in the second world, and begged that they might join them and become one people with them. The Grasshoppers consented, and the two peoples at once mingled among one another and embraced one another, and called one another by the endearing terms of relationship, as if they were all of the same tribe.

153. As before, all went well for twenty-three days; but on the twenty-fourth one of the strangers served a chief of the Grasshoppers as the chief of the Swallows had been served in the lower world. In the morning, when the wrong was discovered, the chief reviled the strangers and bade them depart. “For such crimes,” he said, “I suppose you were chased from the world below: you shall drink no more of our water, you shall breathe no more of our air. Begone!”

154. Up they all flew again, and circled round and round until they came to the sky above them, and they found it smooth and hard as before. When they had circled round for some time, looking in vain for an entrance, they saw a red head stuck out of the sky, and they heard a voice which told them to fly to the west. It was the head of Red Wind which they saw, and it was his voice that spoke to them. The passage which they found in the west was twisted round like the tendril of a vine; it had thus been made by the wind. They flew up in circles through it and came out in the fourth world. Four of the Grasshoppers came with them; one was white, one blue, one yellow, and one black. We have grasshoppers of these four colors with us to this day.25

155. The surface of the fourth world was mixed black and white. The colors in the sky were the same as in the lower worlds, but they differed in their duration. In the first world, the white, the blue, the yellow, and the black all lasted about an equal length of time every day. In the second world the blue and the black lasted a little longer than the other two colors. In the third world they lasted still longer. In the fourth world there was but little of the white and yellow; the blue and the black lasted most of the time. As yet there was neither sun, moon, nor star.

156. When they arrived on the surface of the fourth world they saw no living thing; but they observed four great snow-covered peaks sticking up at the horizon,—one at the east, one at the south, one at the west, and one at the north.

157. They sent two couriers to the east. These returned at the end of two days. They related that they had not been able to reach the eastern mountain, and that, though they had travelled far, they had seen no track or trail or sign of life. Two couriers were then sent to the south. When they returned, at the end of two days, they related that they had reached a low range of mountains this [68]side of the great peak; that they had seen no living creature, but had seen two different kinds of tracks, such as they had never seen before, and they described such as the deer and the turkey make now. Two couriers were next sent to the west. In two days these returned, having failed to reach the great peak in the west, and having seen no living thing and no sign of life. At last two couriers were sent to the north. When these got back to their kindred they said they had found a race of strange men, who cut their hair square in front, who lived in houses in the ground and cultivated fields. These people, who were engaged in gathering their harvest, the couriers said, treated them very kindly and gave them food to eat. It was now evident to the wanderers that the fourth world was larger than any of the worlds below.

158. The day following the return of the couriers who went to the north, two of the newly discovered race—Kisáni (Pueblos) they were called—entered the camp of the exiles and guided the latter to a stream of water. The water was red, and the Kisáni told the wanderers they must not walk through the stream, for if they did the water would injure their feet. The Kisáni showed them a square raft made of four logs,—a white pine, a blue spruce, and yellow pine, and a black spruce,—on which they might cross; so they went over the stream and visited the homes of the Kisáni.

159. The Kisáni gave the wanderers corn and pumpkins to eat, and the latter lived for some time on the food given to them daily by their new friends. They held a council among themselves, in which they resolved to mend their manners for the future and do nothing to make the Kisáni angry. The land of the Kisáni had neither rain nor snow; the crops were raised by irrigation.

160. Late in the autumn they heard in the east the distant sound of a great voice calling. They listened and waited, and soon heard the voice nearer and louder. They listened still and heard the voice a third time, nearer and louder than before. Once more they listened, and soon they heard the voice louder still, and clear like the voice of one near at hand. A moment later four mysterious beings appeared to them.26 These were: Bĭtsís Lakaí, or White Body, a being like the god of this world whom the Navahoes call Hastséyalti; Bĭtsís Dotlĭ′z, or Blue Body, who was like the present Navaho god Tóʻnenĭli, or Water Sprinkler; Bĭtsís Lĭtsói, or Yellow Body; and Bĭtsís Lĭzĭ′n, or Black Body, who was the same as the present Navaho god of fire, Hastsézĭni.

161. These beings, without speaking, made many signs to the people, as if instructing them; but the latter did not understand them. When the gods had gone, the people long discussed the mysterious visit, and tried to make out what the gods meant by the [69]signs they had made. Thus the gods visited four days in succession. On the fourth day, when the other three had departed, Black Body remained behind and spoke to the people in their own language. He said: “You do not seem to understand the signs that these gods make you, so I must tell you what they mean. They want to make more people, but in form like themselves. You have bodies like theirs; but you have the teeth, the feet, and the claws of beasts and insects. The new creatures are to have hands and feet like ours. But you are uncleanly, you smell badly. Have yourselves well cleansed when we return; we will come back in twelve days.”

162. On the morning of the twelfth day the people washed themselves well. The women dried themselves with yellow corn-meal; the men with white corn-meal.27 Soon after the ablutions were completed they heard the distant call of the approaching gods. It was shouted, as before, four times,—nearer and louder at each repetition,—and, after the fourth call, the gods appeared. Blue Body and Black Body each carried a sacred buckskin. White Body carried two ears of corn, one yellow, one white, each covered at the end completely with grains.28

163. The gods laid one buckskin on the ground with the head to the west; on this they placed the two ears of corn, with their tips to the east, and over the corn they spread the other buckskin with its head to the east; under the white ear they put the feather of a white eagle, under the yellow ear the feather of a yellow eagle. Then they told the people to stand at a distance and allow the wind to enter. The white wind blew from the east, and the yellow wind blew from the west, between the skins. While the wind was blowing, eight of the Mirage People came and walked around the objects on the ground four times, and as they walked the eagle feathers, whose tips protruded from between the buckskins, were seen to move. When the Mirage People had finished their walk the upper buckskin was lifted,—the ears of corn had disappeared; a man and a woman lay there in their stead.

164. The white ear of corn had been changed into a man, the yellow ear into a woman. It was the wind that gave them life. It is the wind that comes out of our mouths now that gives us life. When this ceases to blow we die. In the skin at the tips of our fingers we see the trail of the wind; it shows us where the wind blew when our ancestors were created.

165. The pair thus created were First Man and First Woman (Atsé Hastín and Atsé Estsán). The gods directed the people to build an enclosure of brushwood for the pair. When the enclosure was finished, First Man and First Woman entered it, and the gods said to them: “Live together now as husband and wife.” At the [70]end of four days hermaphrodite29 twins were born, and at the end of four days more a boy and a girl were born, who in four days grew to maturity and lived with one another as husband and wife. The primal pair had in all five pairs of twins, the first of which only was barren, being hermaphrodites.

166. In four days after the last pair of twins was born, the gods came again and took First Man and First Woman away to the eastern mountain where the gods dwelt, and kept them there for four days. When they returned all their children were taken to the eastern mountain and kept there for four days. Soon after they all returned it was observed that they occasionally wore masks, such as Hastséyalti and Hastséhogan wear now, and that when they wore these masks they prayed for all good things,—for abundant rain and abundant crops. It is thought, too, that during their visit to the eastern mountain they learned the awful secrets of witchcraft, for the antíhi (witches, wizards) always keep such masks with them and marry those too nearly related to them.

167. When they returned from the eastern mountain the brothers and sisters separated; and, keeping the fact of their former unlawful marriages secret, the brothers married women of the Mirage People and the sisters married men of the Mirage People. They kept secret, too, all the mysteries they had learned in the eastern mountain. The women thus married bore children every four days, and the children grew to maturity in four days, were married, and in their turn had children every four days. This numerous offspring married among the Kisáni, and among those who had come from the lower world, and soon there was a multitude of people in the land.

168. These descendants of First Man and First Woman made a great farm. They built a dam and dug a wide irrigating ditch. But they feared the Kisáni might injure their dam or their crops; so they put one of the hermaphrodites to watch the dam and the other to watch the lower end of the field. The hermaphrodite who watched at the dam invented pottery. He made first a plate, a bowl, and a dipper, which were greatly admired by the people. The hermaphrodite who lived at the lower end of the farm invented the wicker water-bottle.30 Others made, from thin split boards of cottonwood, implements which they shoved before them to clear the weeds out of the land. They made also hoes from shoulder-blades of deer and axes of stone. They got their seeds from the Kisáni.

169. Once they killed a little deer, and some one among them thought that perhaps they might make, from the skin of the head, a mask, by means of which they could approach other deer and kill them. They tried to make such a mask but failed; they could not make it fit. They debated over the invention and considered it for [71]four days, but did not succeed. On the morning of the fifth day they heard the gods shouting in the distance. As on a previous occasion, they shouted four times, and after the fourth call they made their appearance. They brought with them heads of deer and of antelope. They showed the people how the masks were made and fitted, how the eye-holes were cut, how the motions of the deer were to be imitated, and explained to them all the other mysteries of the deer-hunt.31 Next day hunters went out and several deer were killed; from these more masks were made, and with these masks more men went out to hunt; after that time the camp had abundance of meat. The people dressed the deerskins and made garments out of them.

170. The people from the third world had been in the fourth world eight years when the following incident occurred: One day they saw the sky stooping down and the earth rising up to meet it. For a moment they came in contact, and then there sprang out of the earth, at the point of contact, the Coyote and the Badger. We think now that the Coyote and the Badger are children of the sky. The Coyote rose first, and for this reason we think he is the elder brother of the Badger. At once the Coyote came over to the camp and skulked round among the people, while the Badger went down into the hole that led to the lower world.

171. First Man told the people the names of the four mountains which rose in the distance. They were named the same as the four mountains that now bound the Navaho land. There was Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni in the east, Tsótsĭl in the south, Dokoslíd in the west, and Depĕ′ntsa in the north, and he told them that a different race of people lived in each mountain.

172. First Man was the chief of all these people in the fourth world, except the Kisáni. He was a great hunter, and his wife, First Woman, was very corpulent. One day he brought home from the hunt a fine fat deer. The woman boiled some of it and they had a hearty meal. When they were done the woman wiped her greasy hands on her dress, and made a remark which greatly enraged her husband; they had a quarrel about this, which First Man ended by jumping across the fire and remaining by himself in silence for the rest of the night.32

173. Next morning First Man went out early and called aloud to the people: “Come hither, all ye men,” he said; “I wish to speak to you, but let all the women stay behind; I do not wish to see them.” Soon all the males gathered, and he told them what his wife had said the night before. “They believe,” he said, “that they can live without us. Let us see if they can hunt game and till the fields without our help. Let us see what sort of a living they can make [72]by themselves. Let us leave them and persuade the Kisáni to come with us. We will cross the stream, and when we are gone over we will keep the raft on the other side.” He sent for the hermaphrodites. They came, covered with meal, for they had been grinding corn. “What have you that you have made yourselves?” he asked. “We have each two mealing-stones, and we have cups and bowls and baskets and many other things,” they answered. “Then take these all along with you,” he ordered, “and join us to cross the stream.” Then all the men and the hermaphrodites assembled at the river and crossed to the north side on the raft, and they took over with them their stone axes and farm implements and everything they had made. When they had all crossed they sent the raft down to the Kisáni for them to cross. The latter came over,—six gentes of them,—but they took their women with them. While some of the young men were crossing the stream they cried at parting with their wives; still they went at the bidding of their chief. The men left the women everything the latter had helped to make or raise.

174. As soon as they had crossed the river some of the men went out hunting, for the young boys needed food, and some set to work to chop down willows and build huts. They had themselves all sheltered in four days.

175. That winter the women had abundance of food, and they feasted, sang, and had a merry time. They often came down to the bank of the river and called across to the men and taunted and reviled them. Next year the men prepared a few small fields and raised a little corn; but they did not have much corn to eat, and lived a good deal by hunting. The women planted all of the old farm, but they did not work it very well; so in the winter they had a small crop, and they did not sing and make merry as in the previous winter. In the second spring the women planted less, while the men planted more, cleared more land, and increased the size of their farm. Each year the fields and crops of the men increased, while those of the women diminished and they began to suffer for want of food. Some went out and gathered the seeds of wild plants to eat. In the autumn of the third year of separation many women jumped into the river and tried to swim over; but they were carried under the surface of the water and were never seen again. In the fourth year the men had more food than they could eat; corn and pumpkins lay untouched in the fields, while the women were starving.

176. First Man at length began to think what the effect of his course might be. He saw that if he continued to keep the men and the women apart the race might die out, so he called the men and spoke his thoughts to them. Some said, “Surely our race will perish,” and others said, “What good is our abundance to us? We [73]think so much of our poor women starving in our sight that we cannot eat.” Then he sent a man to the shore to call across the stream to find if First Woman were still there, and to bid her come down to the bank if she were. She came to the bank, and First Man called to her and asked if she still thought she could live alone. “No,” she replied, “we cannot live without our husbands.” The men and the women were then told to assemble at the shores of the stream; the raft was sent over and the women were ferried across. They were made to bathe their bodies and dry them with meal. They were put in a corral and kept there until night, when they were let out to join the men in their feasts.33

177. When they were let out of the corral it was found that three were missing. After dark, voices were heard calling from the other side of the river; they were the voices of the missing ones,—a mother and her two daughters. They begged to be ferried over, but the men told them it was too dark, that they must wait until morning. Hearing this, they jumped into the stream and tried to swim over. The mother succeeded in reaching the opposite bank and finding her husband. The daughters were seized by Tiéholtsodi, the water monster, and dragged down under the water.

178. For three nights and three days the people heard nothing about the young women and supposed them lost forever. On the morning of the fourth day the call of the gods was heard,—four times as usual,—and after the fourth call White Body made his appearance, holding up two fingers and pointing to the river. The people supposed that these signs had reference to the lost girls. Some of the men crossed the stream on the raft and looked for the tracks of the lost ones; they traced the tracks to the edge of the water, but no farther. White Body went away, but soon returned, accompanied by Blue Body. White Body carried a large bowl of white shell, and Blue Body a large bowl of blue shell. They asked for a man and a woman to accompany them, and they went down to the river. They put both the bowls on the surface of the water and caused them to spin around. Beneath the spinning bowls the water opened, for it was hollow, and gave entrance to a large house of four rooms. The room in the east was made of the dark waters, the room in the south of the blue waters, the room in the west of the yellow waters, and the room in the north of waters of all colors.36

179. The man and the woman descended and Coyote followed them. They went first into the east room, but there they found nothing; then they went into the south room, but there they found nothing; next they went into the west room, where again they found nothing; at last they went into the north room, and there they [74]beheld the water monster Tiéholtsodi, with the two girls he had stolen and two children of his own. The man and the woman demanded the children, and as he said nothing in reply they took them and walked away. But as they went out Coyote, unperceived by all, took the two children of Tiéholtsodi and carried them off under his robe. Coyote always wore his robe folded close around him and always slept with it thus folded, so no one was surprised to see that he still wore his robe in this way when he came up from the waters, and no one suspected that he had stolen the children of Tiéholtsodi.

180. Next day the people were surprised to see deer, turkey, and antelope running past from east to west, and to see animals of six different kinds (two kinds of Hawks, two kinds of Squirrels, the Hummingbird, and the Bat) come into their camp as if for refuge. The game animals ran past in increasing numbers during the three days following. On the morning of the fourth day, when the white light rose, the people observed in the east a strange white gleam along the horizon, and they sent out the Locust couriers to see what caused this unusual appearance. The Locusts returned before sunset, and told the people that a vast flood of waters was fast approaching from the east. On hearing this the people all assembled together, the Kisáni with the others, in a great multitude, and they wailed and wept over the approaching catastrophe. They wept and moaned all night and could not sleep.

181. When the white light arose in the east, next morning, the waters were seen high as mountains encircling the whole horizon, except in the west, and rolling on rapidly. The people packed up all their goods as fast as they could, and ran up on a high hill near by, for temporary safety. Here they held a council. Some one suggested that perhaps the two Squirrels (Hazáitso and Hazáistozi) might help them. “We will try what we can do,” said the Squirrels. One planted a piñon seed, the other a juniper seed, and they grew so very fast that the people hoped that they would soon grow so tall that the flood could not reach their tops, and that all might find shelter there. But after the trees grew a little way they began to branch out and grew no higher. Then the frightened people called on the Weasels (Gloʻdsĭlkái and Gloʻdsĭlzĭ′ni). One of these planted a spruce seed and one a pine seed. The trees sprouted at once and grew fast, and again the people began to hope; but soon the trees commenced to branch, and they dwindled to slender points at the top and ceased to grow higher. Now they were in the depths of despair, for the waters were coming nearer every moment, when they saw two men approaching the hill on which they were gathered.

182. One of the approaching men was old and grayhaired; the [75]other, who was young, walked in advance. They ascended the hill and passed through the crowd, speaking to no one. The young man sat down on the summit, the old man sat down behind him, and the Locust sat down behind the old man,—all facing the east. The elder took out seven bags from under his robe and opened them. Each contained a small quantity of earth. He told the people that in these bags he had earth from the seven sacred mountains. There were in the fourth world seven sacred mountains, named and placed like the sacred mountains of the present Navaho land. “Ah! Perhaps our father can do something for us,” said the people. “I cannot, but my son may be able to help you,” said the old man. Then they bade the son to help them, and he said he would if they all moved away from where he stood, faced to the west, and looked not around until he called them; for no one should see him at his work. They did as he desired, and in a few moments he called them to come to him. When they came, they saw that he had spread the sacred earth on the ground and planted in it thirty-two reeds, each of which had thirty-two joints. As they gazed they beheld the roots of the reeds striking out into the soil and growing rapidly downward. A moment later all the reeds joined together and became one reed of great size, with a hole in its eastern side. He bade them enter the hollow of the reed through this hole. When they were all safely inside, the opening closed, and none too soon, for scarcely had it closed when they heard the loud noise of the surging waters outside, saying, “Yin, yin, yin.”37

183. The waters rose fast, but the reed grew faster, and soon it grew so high that it began to sway, and the people inside were in great fear lest, with their weight, it might break and topple over into the water. White Body, Blue Body, and Black Body were along. Black Body blew a great breath out through a hole in the top of the reed; a heavy dark cloud formed around the reed and kept it steady. But the reed grew higher and higher; again it began to sway, and again the people within were in great fear, whereat he blew and made another cloud to steady the reed. By sunset it had grown up close to the sky, but it swayed and waved so much that they could not secure it to the sky until Black Body, who was uppermost, took the plume out of his head-band and stuck it out through the top of the cane against the sky, and this is why the reed (Phragmites communis) always carries a plume on its head now.38

184. Seeing no hole in the sky, they sent up the Great Hawk, Ginĭ′tso, to see what he could do. He flew up and began to scratch in the sky with his claws, and he scratched and scratched till he was lost to sight. After a while he came back, and said that he [76]scratched to where he could see light, but that he did not get through the sky. Next they sent up a Locust.39 He was gone a long time, and when he came back he had this story to tell: He had gotten through to the upper world, and came out on a little island in the centre of a lake. When he got out he saw approaching him from the east a black Grebe, and from the west a yellow Grebe.40 One of them said to him: “Who are you and whence come you?” But he made no reply. The other then said: “We own half of this world,—I in the east, my brother in the west. We give you a challenge. If you can do as we do, we shall give you one half of the world; if you cannot, you must die.” Each had an arrow made of the black wind. He passed the arrow from side to side through his heart and flung it down to Wonĭstsídi, the Locust.41 The latter picked up one of the arrows, ran it from side to side through his heart, as he had seen the Grebes do, and threw it down.42 The Grebes swam away, one to the east and one to the west, and troubled him no more. When they had gone, two more Grebes appeared, a blue one from the south and a shining one from the north. They spoke to him as the other Grebes had spoken, and gave him the same challenge. Again he passed the arrow through his heart and the Grebes departed, leaving the land to the locust. To this day we see in every locust’s sides the holes made by the arrows. But the hole the Locust made in ascending was too small for many of the people, so they sent Badger up to make it larger. When Badger came back his legs were stained black with the mud, and the legs of all badgers have been black ever since. Then First Man and First Woman led the way and all the others followed them, and they climbed up through the hole to the surface of this—the fifth—world.

Plate III. DISTANT VIEW OF SAN MATEO MOUNTAIN (TSÓTSĬL), NEW MEXICO.54

(The sacred mountain of the South.)

185. The lake43 was bounded by high cliffs, from the top of which stretched a great plain. There are mountains around it now, but these have been created since the time of the emergence. Finding no way to get out of the lake, they called on Blue Body to help them. He had brought with him from the lower world four stones; he threw one of these towards each of the four cardinal points against the cliffs, breaking holes, through which the waters flowed away in four different directions.44 The lake did not altogether drain out by this means; but the bottom became bare in one place, connecting the island with the mainland. But the mud was so deep in this place that they still hesitated to cross, and they prayed to Nĭ′ltsi Dĭlkóhi, Smooth Wind, to come to their aid.45 Nĭ′ltsi Dĭlkóhi [77]blew a strong wind, and in one day dried up the mud so that the people could easily walk over. While they were waiting for the ground to dry, the Kisáni camped on the east side of the island and built a stone wall (which stands to this day), to lean against and to shelter them from the wind.46 The other people set up a shelter of brushwood. The women erected four poles, on which they stretched a deerskin, and under the shelter of this they played the game of three-sticks,47 tsĭndĭ′, one of the four games which they brought with them from the lower world.

186. When they reached the mainland they sought to divine their fate. To do this some one threw a hide-scraper into the water, saying: “If it sinks we perish, if it floats we live.” It floated, and all rejoiced. But Coyote said: “Let me divine your fate.” He picked up a stone, and saying, “If it sinks we perish; if it floats we live,” he threw it into the water. It sank, of course, and all were angry with him and reviled him; but he answered them saying: “If we all live, and continue to increase as we have done, the earth will soon be too small to hold us, and there will be no room for the cornfields. It is better that each of us should live but a time on this earth and then leave and make room for our children.” They saw the wisdom of his words and were silent. The day they arrived at the shore they had two visitors,—Puma and Wolf. “We have heard,” said these, “that some new people had come up out of the ground, and we have come over to see them.” Puma took a bride from among the new people.

187. On the fourth day of the emergence some one went to look at the hole through which they had come out, and he noticed water welling up there; already it was nearly on a level with the top of the hole, and every moment it rose higher. In haste he ran back to his people and told them what he had seen. A council was called at once to consider the new danger that threatened them. First Man, who rose to speak, said, pointing to Coyote: “Yonder is a rascal, and there is something wrong about him. He never takes off his robe, even when he lies down. I have watched him for a long time, and have suspected that he carries some stolen property under his robe. Let us search him.”48 They tore the robe from Coyote’s shoulders, and two strange little objects dropped out that looked something like buffalo calves, but were spotted all over in various colors; they were the young of Tiéholtsodi. At once the people threw them into the hole through which the waters were pouring; in an instant the waters subsided, and rushed away with a deafening noise to the lower world.49

188. On the fifth night one of the twin hermaphrodites ceased to breathe. They left her alone all that night, and, when morning [78]came, Coyote proposed to lay her at rest among the rocks. This they did; but they all wondered what had become of her breath. They went in various directions to seek for its trail, but could find it nowhere. While they were hunting, two men went near the hole through which they had come from the lower world. It occurred to one of them to look down into the hole. He did so, and he saw the dead one seated by the side of the river, in the fourth world, combing her hair. He called to his companion and the latter came and looked down, too. They returned to their people and related what they had seen; but in four days both these men died, and ever since the Navahoes have feared to look upon the dead, or to behold a ghost, lest they die themselves.60

189. After this it was told around that the Kisáni, who were in camp at a little distance from the others, had brought with them from the lower world an ear of corn for seed. Some of the unruly ones proposed to go to the camp of the Kisáni and take the corn away from them; but others, of better counsel, said that this would be wrong, that the Kisáni had had as much trouble as the rest, and if they had more foresight they had a right to profit by it. In spite of these words, some of the young men went and demanded the corn of the Kisáni. The latter said, after some angry talk on both sides, “We will break the ear in two and give you whichever half you choose.” The young men agreed to this bargain, and the woman who owned the ear broke it in the middle and laid the pieces down for the others to choose. The young men looked at the pieces, and were considering which they would take, when Coyote, getting impatient, picked up the tip end of the ear and made off with it. The Kisáni kept the butt, and this is the reason the Pueblo Indians have to-day better crops of corn than the Navahoes. But the Pueblos had become alarmed at the threats and angry language of their neighbors and moved away from them, and this is why the Navahoes and Pueblos now live apart from one another.

190. After the Kisáni moved away, First Man and First Woman, Black Body and Blue Body, set out to build the seven sacred mountains of the present Navaho land. They made them all of earth which they had brought from similar mountains in the fourth world. The mountains they made were Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni in the east, Tsótsĭl (Taylor, San Mateo) in the south, Dokoslíd (San Francisco) in the west, Depĕ′ntsa (San Juan) in the north, with Dsĭlnáotĭl, Tsolíhi, and Akĭdanastáni (Hosta Butte) in the middle of the land.61

191. Through Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni,62 in the east, they ran a bolt of lightning to fasten it to the earth. They decorated it with white shells, white lightning, white corn, dark clouds, and he-rain. They set a big dish or bowl of shell on its summit, and in it they put two eggs [79]of the Pigeon to make feathers for the mountain. The eggs they covered with a sacred buckskin to make them hatch (there are many wild pigeons in this mountain now). All these things they covered with a sheet of daylight, and they put the Rock Crystal Boy and the Rock Crystal Girl53 into the mountain to dwell.

192. Tsótsĭl,54 the mountain of the south, they fastened to the earth with a great stone knife, thrust through from top to bottom. They adorned it with turquoise, with dark mist, she-rain, and all different kinds of wild animals. On its summit they placed a dish of turquoise; in this they put two eggs of the Bluebird, which they covered with sacred buckskin (there are many bluebirds in Tsótsĭl now), and over all they spread a covering of blue sky. The Boy who Carries One Turquoise and the Girl who Carries One Grain of Corn55 were put into the mountain to dwell.

193. Dokoslíd,56 the mountain of the west, they fastened to the earth with a sunbeam. They adorned it with haliotis shell, with black clouds, he-rain, yellow corn, and all sorts of wild animals. They placed a dish of haliotis shell on the top, and laid in this two eggs of the Yellow Warbler, covering them with sacred buckskins. There are many yellow warblers now in Dokoslíd. Over all they spread a yellow cloud, and they sent White Corn Boy and Yellow Corn Girl57 to dwell there.

194. Depĕ′ntsa, the mountain in the north, they fastened with a rainbow. They adorned it with black beads (pászĭni), with the dark mist, with different kinds of plants, and many kinds of wild animals. On its top they put a dish of pászĭni; in this they placed two eggs of the Blackbird, over which they laid a sacred buckskin. Over all they spread a covering of darkness. Lastly they put the Pollen Boy and Grasshopper Girl59 in the mountain, to dwell there.

195. Dsĭlnáotĭl,60 was fastened with a sunbeam. They decorated it with goods of all kinds, with the dark cloud, and the male rain. They put nothing on top of it; they left its summit free, in order that warriors might fight there; but they put Boy Who Produces Goods and Girl Who Produces Goods61 there to live.

196. The mountain of Tsolíhi62 they fastened to the earth with nĭ′ltsatlol (the streak or cord of rain). They decorated it with pollen, the dark mist, and the female rain. They placed on top of it a live bird named Tsozgáli,68—such birds abound there now,—and they put in the mountain to dwell Boy Who Produces Jewels and Girl Who Produces Jewels.64

197. The mountain of Akĭdanastáni66 they fastened to the earth with a sacred stone called tseʻhadáhonige, or mirage-stone. They decorated it with black clouds, the he-rain, and all sorts of plants. They placed a live Grasshopper on its summit, and they put the Mirage-stone Boy and the Carnelian Girl there to dwell.66 [80]

198. They still had the three lights and the darkness, as in the lower worlds. But First Man and First Woman thought they might form some lights which would make the world brighter. After much study and debate they planned to make the sun and moon. For the sun they made a round flat object, like a dish, out of a clear stone called tséʻtsagi. They set turquoises around the edge, and outside of these they put rays of red rain, lightning, and snakes of many kinds. At first they thought of putting four points on it, as they afterwards did on the stars, but they changed their minds and made it round. They made the moon of tséʻtson (star-rock, a kind of crystal); they bordered it with white shells and they put on its face hadĭlkĭ′s (sheet lightning), and tóʻlanastsi (all kinds of water).67

199. Then they counseled as to what they should do with the sun; where they should make it rise first. The Wind of the East begged that it might be brought to his land, so they dragged it off to the edge of the world where he dwelt; there they gave it to the man who planted the great cane in the lower world, and appointed him to carry it. To an old gray-haired man, who had joined them in the lower world, the moon was given to carry. These men had no names before, but now the former received the name of Tsóhanoai, or Tsínhanoai, and the latter the name of Kléhanoai. When they were about to depart, in order to begin their labors, the people were sorry, for they were beloved by all. But First Man said to the sorrowing people: “Mourn not for them, for you will see them in the heavens, and all that die will be theirs in return for their labors.”68 (See notes 69 and 70 for additions to the legend.)

200. Then the people (Dĭnéʻ, Navahoes) began to travel. They journeyed towards the east, and after one day’s march they reached Nihahokaí (White Spot on the Earth) and camped for the night. Here a woman brought forth, but her offspring was not like a child; it was round, misshapen, and had no head. The people counselled, and determined that it should be thrown into a gully. So they threw it away; but it lived and grew up and became the monster Téelgĕt,131 who afterwards destroyed so many of the people.

201. Next day they wandered farther to the east, and camped at night at Tseʻtaiská (Rock Bending Back). Here was born another misshapen creature, which had something like feathers on both its shoulders. It looked like nothing that was ever seen before, so the people concluded to throw this away also. They took it to an alkali bed close by and cast it away there. But it lived and grew and became the terrible Tseʻnă′hale,135 of whom I shall have much to tell later.

202. The next night, travelling still to the east, they camped at Tseʻbináhotyel, a broad high cliff like a wall, and here a woman [81]bore another strange creature. It had no head, but had a long pointed end where the head ought to be. This object was deposited in the cliff, in a hole which was afterwards sealed up with a stone. They left it there to die, but it grew up and became the destroyer Tseʻtahotsĭltáʻli,142 of whom we shall tell hereafter. Because he was closed into the rock, his hair grew into it and he could not fall.

203. The next night, when they stopped at Tseʻahalzĭ′ni (Rock with Black Hole), twins were born. They were both roundish with one end tapering to a point. There were no signs of limbs or head, but there were depressions which had somewhat the appearance of eyes. The people laid them on the ground, and next day, when they moved camp, abandoned them. Tseʻahalzĭ′ni is shaped like a Navaho hut, with a door in the east. It is supposed that, when they were abandoned to die, the twin monsters went into this natural hut to dwell. They grew up, however, and became the Bĭnáye Aháni, who slew with their eyes, and of whom we shall have more to tell.

204. All these monsters were the fruit of the transgressions of the women in the fourth world, when they were separated from the men. Other monsters were born on the march, and others, again, sprang from the blood which had been shed during the birth of the first monsters,71 and all these grew up to become enemies and destroyers of the people.

205. When they left Tseʻahalzĭ′ni they turned toward the west, and journeyed until they came to a place called Toʻĭntsósoko (Water in a Narrow Gully), and here they remained for thirteen years, making farms and planting corn, beans, and pumpkins every spring.

206. In those days the four-footed beasts, the birds, and the snakes were people also, like ourselves, and built houses and lived near our people close to Depĕ′ntsa. They increased and became the cliff-dwellers. It must have been the flying creatures who built the dwellings high on the cliffs, for if they had not wings how could they reach their houses?

207. From Toʻĭntsósoko they moved to Tseʻlakaíia (Standing White Rock), and here they sojourned again for thirteen years. From the latter place they moved to Tseʻpahalkaí (White on Face of Cliff), and here, once more, they remained for a period of thirteen years. During this time the monsters began to devour the people.

208. From Tseʻpahalkaí they moved to the neighborhood of Kĭntyél72 (Broad House), in the Chaco Canyon, where the ruins of the great pueblo still stand. When the wanderers arrived the pueblo was in process of building, but was not finished. The way it came to be built you shall now hear:— [82]

209. Some time before, there had descended among the Pueblos, from the heavens, a divine gambler, or gambling-god, named Nohoílpi, or He Who Wins Men (at play); his talisman was a great piece of turquoise. When he came he challenged the people to all sorts of games and contests, and in all of these he was successful. He won from them, first, their property, then their women and children, and finally some of the men themselves. Then he told them he would give them part of their property back in payment if they would build a great house; so when the Navahoes came, the Pueblos were busy building in order that they might release their enthralled relatives and their property. They were also busy making a race-track, and preparing for all kinds of games of chance and skill.

210. When all was ready, and four days’ notice had been given, twelve men came from the neighboring pueblo of Kĭ′ndotlĭz, Blue House, to compete with the great gambler. They bet their own persons, and after a brief contest they lost themselves to Nohoílpi. Again a notice of four days was given, and again twelve men of Kĭ′ndotlĭz—relatives of the former twelve—came to play, and these also lost themselves. For the third time an announcement, four days in advance of a game, was given; this time some women were among the twelve contestants, and they, too, lost themselves. All were put to work on the building of Kĭntyél as soon as they forfeited their liberty. At the end of another four days the children of these men and women came to try to win back their parents, but they succeeded only in adding themselves to the number of the gambler’s slaves. On a fifth trial, after four days’ warning, twelve leading men of Blue House were lost, among them the chief of the pueblo. On a sixth duly announced gambling day, twelve more men, all important persons, staked their liberty and lost it. Up to this time the Navahoes had kept count of the winnings of Nohoílpi, but afterwards people from other pueblos came in such numbers to play and lose that they could keep count no longer. In addition to their own persons the later victims brought in beads, shells, turquoise, and all sorts of valuables, and gambled them away. With the labor of all these slaves it was not long until the great Kĭntyél was finished.

211. But all this time the Navahoes had been merely spectators, and had taken no part in the games. One day the voice of the beneficent god, Hastséyalti,73 was heard faintly in the distance crying his usual call, “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú.” His voice was heard, as it is always heard, four times, each time nearer and nearer, and immediately after the last call, which was loud and clear, Hastséyalti appeared at the door of a hut where dwelt a young couple who had no children, and with them he communicated by means of signs. He told them that the people of Kĭ′ndotlĭz had lost at game with [83]Nohoílpi two great shells, the greatest treasures of the pueblo; that the Sun had coveted these shells and had begged them from the gambler; that the latter had refused the request of the Sun and the Sun was angry. In consequence of all this, as Hastséyalti related, in twelve days from his visit certain divine personages would meet in the mountains, in a place which he designated, to hold a great ceremony. He invited the young man to be present at the ceremony and disappeared.

212. The Navaho kept count of the passing days; on the twelfth day he repaired to the appointed place, and there he found a great assemblage of the gods. There were Hastséyalti, Hastséhogan74 and his son, Nĭ′ltsi75 (Wind), Tsalyél (Darkness), Tsápani (Bat), Lĭstsó (Great Snake), Tsĭlkáli (a little bird), Nasĭ′zi (Gopher), and many others. Besides these there were present a number of pets or domesticated animals belonging to the gambler, who were dissatisfied with their lot, were anxious to be free, and would gladly obtain their share of the spoils in case their master was ruined. Nĭ′ltsi (Wind) had spoken to them, and they had come to enter into the plot against Nohoílpi. All night the gods danced and sang and performed their mystic rites for the purpose of giving to the son of Hastséhogan powers, as a gambler, equal to those of Nohoílpi. When the morning came they washed the young neophyte all over, dried him with meal, dressed him in clothes exactly like those the gambler wore, and in every way made him look as much like the gambler as possible, and then they counselled as to what other means they should take to outwit Nohoílpi.

213. In the first place, they desired to find out how he felt about having refused to his father, the Sun, the two great shells. “I will do this,” said Nĭ′ltsi (Wind), “for I can penetrate everywhere, and no one can see me;” but the others said: “No; you can go everywhere, but you cannot travel without making a noise and disturbing people. Let Tsalyél (Darkness) go on this errand, for he also goes wherever he wills, yet he makes no noise.” So Tsalyél went to the gambler’s house, entered his room, went all through his body while he slept, and searched well his mind, and he came back saying, “Nohoílpi is sorry for what he has done.” Nĭ′ltsi, however, did not believe this; so, although his services had been before refused, he repaired to the chamber where the gambler slept, and went all through his body and searched well his mind; but he, too, came back saying Nohoílpi was sorry that he had refused to give the great shells to his father.

214. One of the games they proposed to play is called taká-thad-sáta, or the thirteen chips. (It is played with thirteen thin flat pieces of wood, which are colored red on one side and left white or uncolored [84]on the other side. Success depends on the number of chips which, being thrown upwards, fall with their white sides up.) “Leave the game to me,” said the Bat; “I have made thirteen chips that are white on both sides. I will hide myself in the ceiling, and when our champion throws up his chips I will grasp them and throw down my chips instead.”

215. Another game they were to play is called nánzoz.76 (It is played with two long sticks or poles, of peculiar shape and construction, one marked with red and the other with black, and a single hoop. A long, many-tailed string, called the “turkey-claw,” is secured to the end of each pole.) “Leave nánzoz to me,” said Great Snake; “I will hide myself in the hoop and make it fall where I please.”

216. Another game was one called tsĭ′nbetsil, or push-on-the-wood. (In this the contestants push against a tree until it is torn from its roots and falls.) “I will see that this game is won,” said Nasĭ′zi, the Gopher; “I will gnaw the roots of the tree, so that he who shoves it may easily make it fall.”

217. In the game tsol, or ball, the object was to hit the ball so that it would fall beyond a certain line. “I will win this game for you,” said the little bird Tsĭlkáli, “for I will hide within the ball, and fly with it wherever I want to go. Do not hit the ball hard; give it only a light tap, and depend on me to carry it.”

218. The pets of the gambler begged the Wind to blow hard, so that they might have an excuse to give their master for not keeping due watch when he was in danger, and in the morning the Wind blew for them a strong gale. At dawn the whole party of conspirators left the mountain, and came down to the brow of the canyon to watch until sunrise.

219. Nohoílpi had two wives, who were the prettiest women in the whole land. Wherever she went, each carried in her hand a stick with something tied on the end of it, as a sign that she was the wife of the great gambler.

220. It was their custom for one of them to go every morning at sunrise to a neighboring spring to get water. So at sunrise the watchers on the brow of the cliff saw one of the wives coming out of the gambler’s house with a water-jar on her head, whereupon the son of Hastséhogan descended into the canyon and followed her to the spring. She was not aware of his presence until she had filled her water-jar; then she supposed it to be her own husband, whom the youth was dressed and adorned to represent, and she allowed him to approach her. She soon discovered her error, however, but, deeming it prudent to say nothing, she suffered him to follow her into the house. As he entered, he observed that many of the slaves [85]had already assembled; perhaps they were aware that some trouble was in store for their master. The latter looked up with an angry face; he felt jealous when he saw the stranger entering immediately after his wife. He said nothing of this, however, but asked at once the important question, “Have you come to gamble with me?” This he repeated four times, and each time the young Hastséhogan said “No.” Thinking the stranger feared to play with him, Nohoílpi went on challenging him recklessly. “I’ll bet myself against yourself;” “I’ll bet my feet against your feet;” “I’ll bet my legs against your legs;” and so on he offered to bet every and any part of his body against the same part of his adversary, ending by mentioning his hair.

221. In the mean time the party of divine ones, who had been watching from above, came down, and people from the neighboring pueblos came in, and among these were two boys, who were dressed in costumes similar to those worn by the wives of the gambler. The young Hastséhogan pointed to these and said, “I will bet my wives against your wives.” The great gambler accepted the wager, and the four persons, two women and two mock-women, were placed sitting in a row near the wall. First they played the game of thirteen chips. The Bat assisted, as he had promised the son of Hastséhogan and the latter soon won the game, and with it the wives of Nohoílpi.

222. This was the only game played inside the house; then all went out of doors, and games of various kinds were played. First they tried nánzoz. The track already prepared lay east and west, but, prompted by the Wind God, the stranger insisted on having a track made from north to south, and again, at the bidding of Wind, he chose the red stick. The son of Hastséhogan threw the wheel; at first it seemed about to fall on the gambler’s pole, in the “turkey-claw” of which it was entangled; but to the great surprise of the gambler it extricated itself, rolled farther on, and fell on the pole of his opponent. The latter ran to pick up the ring, lest Nohoílpi in doing so might hurt the snake inside; but the gambler was so angry that he threw his stick away and gave up the game, hoping to do better in the next contest, which was that of pushing down trees.

223. For this the great gambler pointed out two small trees, but his opponent insisted that larger trees must be found. After some search they agreed upon two of good size, which grew close together, and of these the Wind told the youth which one he must select. The gambler strained with all his might at his tree, but could not move it, while his opponent, when his turn came, shoved the other tree prostrate with little effort, for its roots had all been severed by Gopher. [86]

224. Then followed a variety of games, on which Nohoílpi staked his wealth in shells and precious stones, his houses, and many of his slaves, and lost all.

225. The last game was that of the ball. On the line over which the ball was to be knocked all the people were assembled; on one side were those who still remained slaves; on the other side were the freedmen and those who had come to wager themselves, hoping to rescue their kinsmen. Nohoílpi bet on this game the last of his slaves and his own person. The gambler struck his ball a heavy blow, but it did not reach the line; the stranger gave his but a light tap, and the bird within it flew with it far beyond the line, whereat the released captives jumped over the line and joined their people.

226. The victor ordered all the shells, beads, and precious stones, and the great shells, to be brought forth. He gave the beads and shells to Hastséyalti, that they might be distributed among the gods; the two great shells were given to the Sun.77

227. In the mean time Nohoílpi sat to one side saying bitter things, bemoaning his fate, and cursing and threatening his enemies. “I will kill you all with the lightning. I will send war and disease among you. May the cold freeze you! May the fire burn you! May the waters drown you!” he cried. “He has cursed enough,” whispered Nĭ′ltsi to the son of Hastséhogan. “Put an end to his angry words.” So the young victor called Nohoílpi to him and said: “You have bet yourself and have lost; you are now my slave and must do my bidding. You are not a god, for my power has prevailed against yours.” The victor had a bow of magic power named Etĭ′n Dĭlyĭ′l, or the Bow of Darkness; he bent this upwards, and placing the string on the ground he bade his slave stand on the string; then he shot Nohoílpi up into the sky as if he had been an arrow. Up and up he went, growing smaller and smaller to the sight till he faded to a mere speck and finally disappeared altogether. As he flew upwards he was heard to mutter in the angry tones of abuse and imprecation, until he was too far away to be heard; but no one could distinguish anything he said as he ascended.

228. He flew up in the sky until he came to the home of Békotsĭdi,78 the god who carries the moon, and who is supposed by the Navahoes to be identical with the God of the Americans. He is very old, and dwells in a long row of stone houses. When Nohoílpi arrived at the house of Békotsĭdi he related to the latter all his misadventures in the lower world and said, “Now I am poor, and this is why I have come to see you.” “You need be poor no longer,” said Békotsĭdi; “I will provide for you.” So he made for the gambler pets or domestic animals of new kinds, different to those which he had in the Chaco valley; he made for him sheep, asses, horses, [87]swine, goats, and fowls. He also gave him bayeta,79 and other cloths of bright colors, more beautiful than those woven by his slaves at Kĭntyél. He made, too, a new people, the Mexicans, for the gambler to rule over, and then he sent him back to this world again, but he descended far to the south of his former abode, and reached the earth in old Mexico.

229. Nohoílpi’s people increased greatly in Mexico, and after a while they began to move towards the north, and build towns along the Rio Grande. Nohoílpi came with them until they arrived at a place north of Santa Fé. There they ceased building, and he returned to old Mexico, where he still lives, and where he is now the Nakaí Dĭgíni, or God of the Mexicans.

230. The Navaho who went at the bidding of the Sun to the tryst of the gods stayed with them till the gambler was shot into the sky. Then he returned to his people and told all he had seen. The young stranger went back to Tseʻgíhi, the home of the yéi.

231. The wanderers were not long at Kĭntyél, but while they were they met some of the Daylight People. From Kĭntyél they moved to Toʻĭ′ndotsos, and here Mai,80 the Coyote, married a Navaho woman. He remained in the Navaho camp nine days, and then he went to visit Dasáni, the Porcupine. The latter took a piece of bark, scratched his nose with it till the blood flowed freely out over it, put it on the fire, and there roasted it slowly until it turned into a piece of fine meat. Porcupine then spread some clean herbs on the ground, laid the roasted meat on these, and invited his visitor to partake. Coyote was delighted; he had never had a nicer meal, and when he was leaving he invited his host to return the visit in two days. At the appointed time Porcupine presented himself at the hut of Coyote. The latter greeted his guest, bade him be seated, and rushed out of the house. In a few minutes he returned with a piece of bark. With this he scratched his nose, as he had seen Porcupine doing, and allowed the blood to flow. He placed the bloody bark over the fire, where in a moment it burst into flames and was soon reduced to ashes. Coyote hung his head in shame and Porcupine went home hungry.

232. Soon after this Coyote visited Maítso,80 the Wolf. The latter took down, from among the rafters of his hut, two of the old-fashioned reed arrows with wooden heads, such as the Navahoes used in the ancient days; he pulled out the wooden points, rolled them on his thigh, moistened them in his mouth, and buried them in the hot ashes beside the fire. After waiting a little while and talking to his guest, he raked out from the ashes, where he had buried the arrow points, two fine cooked puddings of minced meat; these he laid on a mat of fresh herbs and told Coyote to help himself. [88]Coyote again enjoyed his meal greatly, and soon after, when he rose to leave, he invited Wolf to pay him a visit in two days. Wolf went in due time to the house of Coyote, and when he had seated himself the host took two arrow-heads, as Wolf had done, rolled them on his thigh, put them in his mouth, and buried them in the hot ashes. After waiting a while, he raked the ashes and found nothing but two pieces of charred wood where he had placed the arrow-heads. This time he gave no evidence of his disappointment, but sat and talked with his guest just as if nothing had happened, until Wolf, seeing no sign of dinner and becoming very hungry, got up and went home.

233. In those days the Chicken-hawks and the Hummingbirds were known as great hunters. They were friendly to one another and dwelt together in one camp.

234. Coyote went to pay them a visit, and when he arrived at the camp he entered one of the huts of the Hummingbirds. He found therein two beautiful Hummingbird maidens, gayly dressed, with rows of deer-hoof pendants on their skirts and shoulders. He lay down in the lodge and said to the maidens: “Where is everybody to-day? I heard there were many people camped here, but the camp seems deserted.” The maidens replied: “There are many people camped here, but to-day the men are all out hunting.”

235. Now, Coyote was a dandy; he was always beautifully dressed; he had a nice otter-skin quiver and his face was painted in spots. The maidens, when they had looked well at him, bent their heads together and whispered to one another, “He is a handsome young man. He is beautifully dressed. He must be a person of some importance.” He spent the day gossipping with the maidens and telling them wonderful tales about himself. “Would you know who I am?” he said. “I am the God of Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni Mountain. I have no need to hunt. All I have to do is to will the death of an animal and it dies. Your people have no need to wear themselves out hunting for game. I can kill all they want without labor.”

236. At nightfall, when the hunters returned, the maidens left the lodge, went to where their friends were assembled, and told them all about the visitor. When the maidens had finished their story, the chief directed one of the young men to go over to the hut, peep in over the curtain in the doorway, and see what the stranger looked like. The young man did as he was bidden, making no noise, and looked into the lodge unobserved by Coyote. When he returned to the chief he said: “The stranger is a fine-looking man and is beautifully dressed. Perhaps he is indeed a god.” The chief then said: “It may be that all is true which he has told the maidens. We have to travel far in all sorts of weather and to work hard to secure food. [89]He may know some way to save us from labor, so let us be kind to him. Go, one of you maidens, back to the lodge to serve him.” Hearing these words, the younger of the two young women returned to the lodge. Her clothing was ornamented with many pendants of bone and hoof that rattled with every movement she made, and for this reason Coyote named her Tsiké Nazĭ′li, or Young Woman Who Rattles.

237. In the morning she went to the lodge where her people were, and where a good breakfast was already prepared, and she brought a large dishful of the food for Coyote to eat. As she was about to depart with the food her people charged her to tell Coyote nothing of certain bad neighbors of theirs, lest he might visit them and work wonders for their benefit. But their injunctions came too late. Already Tsiké Nazĭ′li had told him all about these bad neighbors, and he had made up his mind to visit them.

238. When breakfast was over she said: “Now the hunters are going out.” He replied: “I will go with them.” So he joined the party, and they travelled together till they got to the brow of a high hill which overlooked an extensive country. Here Coyote told his companions to remain concealed while he went into the plain and drove the game toward them. When he got out of sight, he tied to his tail a long fagot of shredded cedar-bark, which he set on fire, and then he ran over the country in a wide circle as fast as he could go. Everywhere the fagot touched it set fire to the grass, and raised a long line of flame and smoke which drove the antelope up to where the hunters were concealed. A great quantity of game was killed; the hunters returned laden with meat, and their faith in Coyote was unbounded.

239. Next morning they all went out once more to hunt. Again the hunters concealed themselves on the brow of a hill, and again Coyote tied the blazing fagot to his tail and ran. The people on the hilltop watched the line of fire advancing over the plain; but when it turned around as if to come back to the place from which it started, it suddenly ceased. Much game was driven toward the party in ambush; but Coyote did not return, and the hunters went to work cutting up the meat and cooking food for themselves.

240. Coyote, in the mean time, had gone to seek the bad neighbors. He untied his brand at the place where the hunters had seen the line of fire cease, and wandered off in a different direction. After a while he came to two great trees, a spruce and a pine, growing close together, and filled with chattering birds of two kinds. The spruce-tree was filled with birds called Tsĭ′di Béze, and the pine-tree with birds called Tsĭ′di Sási. They were all busily engaged in playing a game which Coyote had never seen before. They would [90]pull out their eyes, toss these up to the top of the tree, cry “Drop back, my eyes! Drop back!” and catch the eyes as they descended in their proper sockets. Coyote watched their play for a long time, and at length, becoming fascinated with the game, he cried out to the Tsĭ′di Sási in the pine-tree, “Pull out my eyes for me. I want to play, too.” “No,” they replied, “we will have nothing to do with you.” Again and again he begged to be allowed to join in the sport, and again and again they refused him. But when he had pleaded for the fourth time, they flew down to where Coyote sat, and, taking sharp sticks, they gouged his eyes out. The eyes were thrown up to the top of the pine-tree, and when they fell down Coyote caught them in his orbits and could see again as well as ever. Coyote was delighted with the result of his first venture, and he begged them to pull his eyes out again, but they said angrily: “We do not want to play with you. We have done enough for you now. Go and leave us.” But he continued to whine and beg until again they pulled out his eyes and tossed them up with the same happy result as before. Thus four times were his eyes pulled out, thrown upward, and caught back again in the head. But when he begged them to pull out his eyes for the fifth time, they went to a distance and held a council among themselves. When they returned they pulled his eyes out once more; but this time they took pains to pull out the strings of the eyes (optic nerves) at the same time; these they tied together, and, when the eyes were again flung up in the tree, they caught on one of the branches and there they stayed. Now Coyote was in mortal distress. “Drop back, my eyes! Drop back!” he cried. But back they never came, and he sat there with his nose pointed up toward the top of the tree, and he howled and prayed and wept. At last the birds took pity on him and said: “Let us make other eyes for him.” So they took a couple of partly dried pieces of pine gum and rolled them into two balls; these were stuck into the empty sockets, and, although they were not good eyes, they gave him sight enough to see his way home. The gum was yellow, and for this reason coyotes have had yellow eyes ever since.

241. He crept back, as best he could, to the place where he had left the hunters, and where he found them cutting and cooking meat. He sat down facing the fire, but he soon found that his gum eyes were getting soft with the heat, so he turned his side to the fire. The hunters gave him a piece of raw liver, supposing he would cook it himself. Not daring to turn towards the fire, lest his eyes should melt altogether, he threw the liver on the coals without looking, and when he tried afterwards to take it up he thrust his hand at random into the fire and caught nothing but hot coals that burned him. Fearing that his strange action was observed, he tried to pass it off [91]as a joke, and every time he picked up a hot coal he cried: “Don’t burn me, liver! Don’t burn me, liver!” After a while the hunters seated around the fire began to notice his singular motions and words, and one said to another: “He does not act as usual. Go and see what is the matter with him.” The hunter who was thus bidden went over in front of Coyote, looked at him closely, and saw melted gum pouring out from between his eyelids.

242. It happened that during the day, while Coyote was absent, a messenger had come to the camp of the hunters from another camp to tell them that an individual named Mai, or Coyote, had left his home, and had been seen going toward the camp of the Hummingbirds, and to warn them against him. “He is an idler and a trickster,—beware of him,” said the messenger. So when they found out the condition of their visitor they said: “This must be Coyote of whom we have heard. He has been playing with the Tsĭ′di Sási and has lost his eyes.”

243. When they had arrived at this conclusion they started for camp and led the blind Coyote along. In the mean time they devised a plan for getting rid of him. When they got home they took the rattling dress of Tsiké Nazĭ′li and gave her an ordinary garment to wear. Then a Chicken-hawk took the dress in his beak, and, flying a little distance above the ground, shook the dress in front of Coyote. The latter, thinking the maiden was there, approached the sound, and as he did so the Chicken-hawk flew farther away, still shaking the dress. Coyote followed the rattling sound, and was thus led on to the brink of a deep canyon. Here the hawk shook the dress beyond the edge of the precipice. Coyote jumped toward where he heard the sound, fell to the bottom of the canyon, and was dashed to pieces.

244. But for all this he did not die. He did not, like other beings, keep his vital principle in his chest, where it might easily be destroyed; he kept it in the tip of his nose and in the end of his tail, where no one would expect to find it; so after a while he came to life again, went back to the camp of the birds, and asked for Tsiké Nazĭ′li. They told him she was gone away, and ordered him angrily to leave, telling him they knew who he was, and that he was a worthless fellow.

245. Coyote left the camp of the birds, and wandered around till he came to the house of one of the anáye, or alien gods, named Yélapahi,71 or Brown Giant. He was half as tall as the tallest pine-tree, and he was evil and cruel. Coyote said to the Brown Giant, “Yélapahi, I want to be your servant; I can be of great help to you. The reason that you often fail to catch your enemies is that you cannot run fast enough. I can run fast and jump far; I can jump over [92]four bushes at one bound. I can run after your enemies and help you to catch them.” “My cousin,” responded Brown Giant, “you can do me service if you will.” Coyote then directed the giant to build a sweat-house for himself, and, while the latter was building it, Coyote set out on another errand.

246. In those days there was a maiden of renowned beauty in the land. She was the only sister of eleven divine brothers.81 She had been sought in marriage by the Sun and by many potent gods, but she had refused them all because they could not comply with certain conditions which she imposed op all suitors. It was to visit her that Coyote went when he left Yélapahi at work on the sweat-house.

247. “Why have you refused so many beautiful gods who want you for a wife?” said Coyote to the maiden after he had greeted her. “It would profit you nothing to know,” she replied, “for you could not comply with any one of my demands.” Four times he asked her this question, and three times he got the same reply. When he asked her the fourth time she answered: “In the first place, I will not marry any one who has not killed one of the anáye.” When he heard this Coyote arose and returned to the place where he had left Yélapahi.

248. On his way back he looked carefully for the bone of some big animal which Great Wolf had slain and eaten. At length he found a long thigh-bone which suited his purpose. He took this home with him, concealing it under his shirt. When Coyote got back, Yélapahi had finished the sweat-house.82 Together they built the fire, heated the stones, and spread the carpet of leaves. Coyote hung over the doorway four blankets of sky,—one white, one blue, one yellow, and one black, and put the hot stones into the lodge. Then they hung their arms and clothes on a neighboring tree, entered the sudatory, and sat down.83

249. “Now,” said Coyote, “if you want to become a fast runner, I will show you what to do. You must cut the flesh of your thigh down to the bone and then break the bone. It will heal again in a moment, and when it heals you will be stronger and swifter than ever. I often do this myself, and every time I do it I am fleeter of foot than I was before. I will do it now, so that you may observe how it is done.” Coyote then produced a great stone knife and pretended to cut his own thigh, wailing and crying in the mean time, and acting as if he suffered great pain. After a while of this pretence he put the old femur on top of his thigh, held it by both ends, and said to the giant: “I have now reached the bone. Feel it.” When the giant had put forth his hand, in the absolute darkness of the sweat-house, and felt the bare bone, Coyote shoved the hand away and struck the bone hard with the edge of his knife several [93]times until he broke the bone, and he made the giant feel the fractured ends. Then he threw away the old bone, rubbed spittle on his thigh, prayed and sang, and in a little while presented his sound thigh to the giant for his examination, saying: “See! my limb is healed again. It is as well as ever.” When he had thus spoken Coyote handed his knife to Yélapahi, and the latter with many tears and loud howls slowly amputated his own thigh. When the work was done he put the two severed ends together, spat upon them, sang and prayed, as Coyote had done. “Tóhe! Tóhe! Tóhe!”84 he cried, “Heal together! Grow together!” he commanded; but the severed ends would not unite. “Cousin,” he called to Coyote, “help me to heal this leg.” Coyote thought it was now time to finish his work. He ran from the sweat-house, seized his bow, and discharged his arrows into the helpless Yélapahi, who soon expired with many wounds.

250. Coyote scalped his victim, and tied the scalp to the top of a branch which he broke from a cedar-tree; as further evidence of his victory, he took the quiver and weapons of the slain and set out for the lodge of the maiden. He knew she could not mistake the scalp, for the yéi, in those days, had yellow hair,85 such as no other people had. When he reached the lodge he said to the maiden: “Here is the scalp and here are the weapons of one of the anáye. Now you must marry me.” “No,” said the maiden, “not yet; I have not told you all that one must do in order to win me. He must be killed four times and come to life again four times.” “Do you speak the truth? Have you told me all?” said Coyote. “Yes; I speak only the truth,” she replied. Four times he asked this question, and four times he received the same answer. When she had spoken for the fourth time Coyote said: “Here I am. Do with me as you will.” The maiden took him a little distance from the lodge, laid him on the ground, beat him with a great club until she thought she had smashed every bone in his body, and left him for dead. But the point of his nose and the end of his tail she did not smash. She hurried back to her hut, for she had much work to do. She was the only woman in a family of twelve. She cooked the food and tanned the skins, and besides she made baskets. At this particular time she was engaged in making four baskets. When she returned to the lodge she sat down and went on with her basket-work; but she had not worked long before she became aware that some one was standing in the doorway, and, looking up, she beheld Coyote. “Here I am,” he said; “I have won one game; there are only three more to win.”

251. She made no reply, but took him off farther than she had taken him before, and pounded him to pieces with a club. She threw [94]the pieces away in different directions and returned to her work again; but she had not taken many stitches in her basket when again the resurrected Coyote appeared in the doorway, saying: “I have won two games; there are only two more to win.”

252. Again she led him forth, but took him still farther away from the lodge than she had taken him before, and with a heavy club pounded him into a shapeless mass, until she thought he must certainly be dead. She stood a long time gazing at the pounded flesh, and studying what she would do with it to make her work sure. She carried the mass to a great rock, and there she beat it into still finer pieces. These she scattered farther than she had scattered the pieces before, and went back to the house. But she had still failed to injure the two vital spots. It took the Coyote a longer time on this occasion than on the previous occasions to pull himself together; still she had not wrought much on her basket when he again presented himself and said: “I have won three games; there is but one more game to win.”

253. The fourth time she led him farther away than ever. She not only mashed him to pieces, but she mixed the pieces with earth, ground the mixture, like corn, between two stones, until it was ground to a fine powder, and scattered this powder far and wide. But again she neglected to crush the point of the nose and the tip of the tail. She went back to the lodge and worked a long time undisturbed. She had just begun to entertain hopes that she had seen the last of her unwelcome suitor when again he entered the door. Now, at last, she could not refuse him. He had fulfilled all her conditions, and she consented to become his wife. He remained all the afternoon. At sunset they heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and she said: “My brothers are coming. Some of them are evil of mind and may do you harm. You must hide yourself.” She hid him behind a pile of skins, and told him to be quiet.

254. When the brothers entered the lodge they said to their sister: “Here is some fat young venison which we bring you. Put it down to boil and put some of the fat into the pot, for our faces are burned by the wind and we want to grease them.” The woman slept on the north side of the lodge and kept there her household utensils. She had about half of the lodge to herself. The men slept on the south side, the eldest next to the door.

255. The pot was put on and the fire replenished, and when it began to burn well an odor denoting the presence of some beast filled the lodge. One of the brothers said: “It smells as if some animal had been in the wood-pile. Let us throw out this wood and get fresh sticks from the bottom of the pile.” They did as he desired; but the unpleasant odors continued to annoy them, and [95]again the wood was taken from the fire and thrown away. Thinking the whole pile of wood was tainted with the smell, they went out, broke fresh branches from trees, and built the fire up again; but this did not abate the rank odor in the least. Then one said: “Perhaps the smell is in the water. Tell us, little sister, where did you get the water in the pot?” “I got it at the spring where I always get it,” she replied. But they got her to throw out the water and fill the pot with snow, and to put the meat down to boil again. In spite of all their pains the stench was as bad as ever. At length one of the brothers turned to his sister and said: “What is the cause of this odor? It is not in the wood. It is not in the water. Whence comes it?” She was silent. He repeated the question three times, yet she made no answer. But when the question had been asked for the fourth time, Coyote jumped out of his hiding-place into the middle of the lodge and cried: “It is I, my brothers-in-law!” “Run out there!” the brothers commanded, and turning to their sister they said: “Run out you with him!”

256. They both departed from the lodge. As Coyote went out he took a brand from the fire, and with this he lighted a new fire. Then he broke boughs from the neighboring trees and built a shelter for himself and his wife to live in. When this was completed she went back to the lodge of her brothers, took out her pots, skins, four awls, baskets, and all her property, and carried them to her new home.

257. One of the elder brothers said to the youngest: “Go out to-night and watch the couple, and see what sort of a man this is that we have for a brother-in-law. Do not enter the shelter, but lie hidden outside and observe them.” So the youngest brother went forth and hid himself near the shelter, where he could peep in and see by the light of the fire what took place and hear what was said. The pair sat side by side near the fire. Presently the woman laid her hand in a friendly manner on Coyote’s knee, but Coyote threw it away. These motions were repeated four times, and when he had thrown her hand away for the fourth time he said: “I have sworn never to take a woman for a wife until I have killed her four times.” For a while the woman remained silent and gazed at the fire. At length she said: “Here I am. Do with me as you will.” (The myth then relates four deaths and resurrections of the woman, similar to those of the Coyote, but it does not state how or where she preserved her vital principle.) When she returned for the fourth time she lay down, and Coyote soon followed her to her couch. From time to time during the night they held long, low conversations, of which the listener could hear but little. At dawn the watcher went home. In reply to the questions of his brothers he said: “I cannot [96]tell you all that I saw and heard, and they said much that I could not hear; but all that I did hear and behold was tsĭndás” (devilish, evil).

258. Next morning the brothers proposed to go out hunting. While they were getting ready Coyote came and asked leave to join them, but they said to him tauntingly: “No; stay at home with your wife; she may be lonely and may need some one to talk to her,” and they chased him out of the lodge. Just as they were about to leave he came back again and begged them to take him with them. “No,” they replied, “the woman will want you to carry wood; you must stay at home with her.” They bade him begone and set out on their journey. They had not gone far on their way when he overtook them, and for the third time asked to be allowed to join the party; but again they drove him back with scornful words. They travelled on till they came to the edge of a deep canyon bordered with very steep cliffs, and here Coyote was seen again, skulking behind them. For the fourth time he pleaded with them; but now the youngest brother took his part, and suggested that Coyote might assist in driving game towards them. So, after some deliberation, they consented to take Coyote along. At the edge of the canyon they made a bridge of rainbow,86 on which they proceeded to cross the chasm. Before the brothers reached the opposite bluff Coyote jumped on it from the bridge, with a great bound, and began to frolic around, saying: “This is a nice place to play.”

259. They travelled farther on, and after a while came to a mesa, or table-land, which projected into a lower plain, and was connected with the plateau on which they stood by a narrow neck of level land. It was a mesa much like that on which the three eastern towns of the Mokis stand, with high, precipitous sides and a narrow entrance. On the neck of land they observed the tracks of four Rocky Mountain sheep, which had gone in on the mesa but had not returned. They had reason, therefore, to believe that the sheep were still on the mesa. At the neck they built a fire, sat down near it, and sent Coyote in on the mesa to drive the sheep out. Their plans were successful; soon the four sheep came running out over the neck, within easy range of the hunters’ weapons, and were all killed. Presently Coyote returned and lay down on the sand.

260. In those days the horns of the Rocky Mountain sheep were flat and fleshy and could be eaten. The eldest brother said: “I will take the horns for my share.” “No,” said Coyote, “the horns shall be mine: give them to me.” Three times each repeated the same declaration. When both had spoken for the fourth time, the eldest brother, to end the controversy, drew out his knife and began to cut one of the horns; as he did so Coyote cried out, “Tsĭnántlehi! [97]Tsĭnántlehi! Tsĭnántlehi! Tsĭnántlehi!” (Turn to bone! Turn to bone! Turn to bone! Turn to bone!) Each time he cried, the horn grew harder and harder, and the knife slipped as it cut, hacking but not severing the horn. This is why the horns of the Rocky Mountain sheep are now hard, not fleshy, and to this day they bear the marks of the hunter’s knife. “Tsĭ′ndi! Tsĭndás bilnáalti!” (You devil! You evil companion in travel!) said the hunter to Coyote.

261. The hunters gathered all the meat into one pile, and by means of the mystic power which they possessed they reduced it to a very small compass. They tied it in a small bundle which one person might easily carry, and they gave it to Coyote to take home, saying to him, “Travel round by the head of the canyon over which we crossed and go not through it, for they are evil people who dwell there, and open not your bundle until you get home.”

262. The bundle was lifted to his back and he started for home, promising to heed all that had been told him. But as soon as he was well out of sight of his companions he slipped his bundle to the ground and opened it. At once the meat expanded and became again a heap of formidable size, such that he could not bind it up again or carry it; so he hung some of it up on the trees and bushes; he stuck part of it into crevices in the rocks; a portion he left scattered on the ground; he tied up as much as he could carry in a new bundle, and with this he continued on his journey.

263. When he came to the edge of the forbidden canyon he looked down and saw some birds playing a game he had never witnessed before. They rolled great stones down the slope, which extended from the foot of the cliff to the bottom of the valley, and stood on the stones while they were rolling; yet the birds were not upset or crushed or hurt in the least by this diversion. The sight so pleased Coyote that he descended into the canyon and begged to be allowed to join in the sport. The birds rolled a stone gently for him; he got on it and handled himself so nimbly that he reached the bottom of the slope without injury. Again and again he begged them to give him a trial until he thus three times descended without hurting himself. When he asked the birds for the fourth time to roll a stone for him they became angry and hurled it with such force that Coyote lost his footing, and he and the stone rolled over one another to the bottom of the slope, and he screamed and yelped all the way down.

264. After this experience he left the birds and travelled on until he observed some Otters at play by the stream at the bottom of the canyon. They were playing the Navaho game of nánzoz. They bet their skins against one another on the results of the game. But when one lost his skin at play he jumped into the water and came [98]out with a new skin. Coyote approached the Otters and asked to be allowed to take part in the game, but the Otters had heard about him and knew what a rascal he was. They refused him and told him to begone; but still he remained and pleaded. After a while they went apart and talked among themselves, and when they returned they invited Coyote to join them in their game. Coyote bet his skin and lost it. The moment he lost, the Otters all rushed at him, and, notwithstanding his piteous cries, they tore the hide from his back, beginning at the root of his tail and tearing forward. When they came to the vital spot at the end of his nose his wails were terrible. When he found himself denuded of his skin he jumped into the water, as he had seen the Otters doing; but, alas! his skin did not come back to him. He jumped again and again into the water; but came out every time as bare as he went in. At length he became thoroughly exhausted, and lay down in the water until the Otters took pity on him and pulled him out. They dragged him to a badger hole, threw him in there, and covered him up with earth. Previous to this adventure Coyote had a beautiful, smooth fur like that of the otter. When he dug his way out of the badger hole he was again covered with hair, but it was no longer the glossy fur which he once wore; it was coarse and rough, much like that of the badger, and such a pelt the coyotes have worn ever since.

265. But this sad experience did not make him mend his ways. He again went round challenging the Otters to further play, and betting his new skin on the game. “Your skin is of no value; no one would play for it. Begone!” they said. Being often refused and insolently treated, he at length became angry, retired to a safe distance, and began to revile the Otters shamefully. “You are braggarts,” he cried; “you pretend to be brave, but you are cowards. Your women are like yourselves: their heads are flat; their eyes are little; their teeth stick out; they are ugly; while I have a bride as beautiful as the sun.” He shook his foot at them as if to say, “I am fleeter than you.” He would approach them, and when they made motion as if to pursue him, he would take a big jump and soon place himself beyond their reach. When they quieted down, he would approach them again and continue to taunt and revile them. After a while he went to the cliff, to a place of safety, and shouted from there his words of derision. The Otters talked together, and said they could suffer his abuse no longer, that something must be done, and they sent word to the chiefs of the Spiders, who lived farther down the stream, telling them what had occurred, and asking for their aid.

266. The Spiders crept up the bluff, went round behind where Coyote sat cursing and scolding, and wove strong webs in the trees [99]and bushes. When their work was finished they told the Otters what they had done, and the latter started to climb the bluff and attack Coyote. Conscious of his superior swiftness, he acted as if indifferent to them, and allowed them to come quite close before he turned to run; but he did not run far until he was caught in the webs of the Spiders. Then the Otters seized him and dragged him, howling, to the foot of the hill. He clung so hard to the grasses and shrubs as he passed that they were torn out by the roots. When the Otters got him to the bottom of the hill they killed him, or seemed to kill him. The Cliff Swallows (Hastsósi)21 flew down from the walls of the canyon and tore him in pieces; they carried off the fragments to their nests, leaving only a few drops of blood on the ground; they tore his skin into strips and made of these bands which they put around their heads, and this accounts for the band which the cliff swallow wears upon his brow to-day.

267. It was nightfall when the brothers came home. They saw that Coyote had not yet returned, and they marvelled what had become of him. When they entered the lodge and sat down, the sister came and peeped in over the portière, scanned the inside of the lodge, and looked inquiringly at them. They did not speak to her until she had done this four times, then the eldest brother said: “Go back and sleep, and don’t worry about that worthless man of yours. He is not with us, and we know not what has become of him. We suppose he has gone into the canyon, where we warned him not to go, and has been killed.” She only said, “What have you done with him?” and went away in anger.

268. Before they lay down to sleep they sent the youngest brother out to hide where he had hidden the night before to watch their sister, and this is what he saw: At first she pretended to go to sleep. After a while she rose and sat facing the east. Then she faced in turn the south, the west, and the north, moving sunwise. When this was done she pulled out her right eye-tooth, broke a large piece from one of her four bone awls and inserted it in the place of the tooth, making a great tusk where the little tooth had once been. As she did this she said aloud: “He who shall hereafter dream of losing a right eye-tooth shall lose a brother.” After this she opened her mouth to the four points of the compass in the order in which she had faced them before, tore out her left eye-tooth and inserted in its place the pointed end of another awl. As she made this tusk she said: “He who dreams of losing his left eye-tooth shall lose a sister.”

269. The watcher then returned to his brothers and told them what he had seen and heard. “Go back,” said they, “and watch her again, for you have not seen all her deeds.” When he went [100]back he saw her make, as she had done before, two tusks in her lower jaw. When she had made that on the right she said: “He who dreams of losing this tooth (right lower canine) shall lose a child;” and when she made that on the left she said: “He who dreams of losing this tooth (left lower canine) shall lose a parent.”

270. When she first began to pull out her teeth, hair began to grow on her hands; as she went on with her mystic work the hair spread up her arms and her legs, leaving only her breasts bare. The young man now crept back to the lodge where his brethren waited and told them what he had seen. “Go back,” they said, “and hide again. There is more for you to see.”

271. When he got back to his hiding-place the hair had grown over her breasts, and she was covered with a coat of shaggy hair like that of a bear. She continued to move around in the direction of the sun’s apparent course, pausing and opening her mouth at the east, the south, the west, and the north as she went. After a while her ears began to wag, her snout grew long, her teeth were heard to gnash, her nails turned into claws. He watched her until dawn, when, fearing he might be discovered, he returned to his lodge and told his brothers all that had happened. They said: “These must be the mysteries that Coyote explained to her the first night.”

272. In a moment after the young man had told his story they heard the whistling of a bear, and soon a she-bear rushed past the door of the lodge, cracking the branches as she went. She followed the trail which Coyote had taken the day before and disappeared in the woods.

273. At night she came back groaning. She had been in the fatal canyon all day, fighting the slayers of Coyote, and she had been wounded in many places. Her brothers saw a light in her hut, and from time to time one of their number would go and peep in through an aperture to observe what was happening within. All night she walked around the fire. At intervals she would, by means of her magic, draw arrow-heads out of her body and heal the wounds.

274. Next morning the bear-woman again rushed past the lodge of her brethren, and again went off toward the fatal canyon. At night she returned, as before, groaning and bleeding, and again spent the long night in drawing forth missiles and healing her wounds by means of her magic rites.

275. Thus she continued to do for four days and four nights; but at the end of the fourth day she had conquered all her enemies; she had slain many, and those she had not killed she had dispersed. The swallows flew up into the high cliffs to escape her vengeance; the otters hid themselves in the water; the spiders retreated into holes in the ground,87 and in such places these creatures have been obliged to dwell ever since. [101]

276. During these four days, the brothers remained in their camp; but at the end of that time, feeling that trouble was in store for them, they decided to go away. They left the youngest brother at home, and the remaining ten divided themselves into four different parties; one of which travelled to the east, another to the south, another to the west, and another to the north.

277. When they were gone, the Whirlwind, Níyol, and the Knife Boy, Pésasike, came to the lodge to help the younger brother who had remained behind. They dug for him a hole under the centre of the hogán; and from this they dug four branching tunnels, running east, south, west, and north, and over the end of each tunnel they put a window of gypsum to let in light from above. They gave him four weapons,—atsĭniklĭ′ska, the chain-lightning arrow; hatsoilhálka (an old-fashioned stone knife as big as the open hand); natsilĭ′tka, the rainbow arrow; and hatsĭlkĭ′ska, the sheet-lightning arrow. They roofed his hiding-place with four flat stones, one white, one blue, one yellow, and one black. They put earth over all these, smoothing the earth and tramping it down so that it should look like the natural floor of the lodge. They gave him two monitors, Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind, at his right ear, to warn him by day of the approach of danger; and Tsalyél, darkness, at his left ear, to warn him by night.

278. When morning came and the bear-woman went forth she discovered that her brothers had departed. She poured water on the ground (halĭ′z) to see which way they had gone. The water flowed to the east; she rushed on in that direction and soon overtook three of the fugitives, whom she succeeded in killing. Then she went back to her hut to see what had become of her other brothers. Again she poured water on the level ground and it flowed off to the south; she followed in that direction and soon overtook three others, whom she likewise slew. Returning to the lodge she again performed her divination by means of water. This time she was directed to the west, and, going that way, she overtook and killed three more of the men. Again she sought the old camp and poured on the ground water, which flowed to the north; going on in this direction she encountered but one man, and him she slew. Once more she went back to discover what had become of her last brother. She poured water for the fifth time on the level ground; it sank directly into the earth.

279. The brothers had always been very successful hunters and their home was always well supplied with meat. In consequence of this they had had many visitors who built in their neighborhood temporary shelters, such as the Navahoes build now when they come to remain only a short time at a place, and the remains of these shelters surrounded the deserted hut. She scratched in all these [102]places to find traces of the fugitive, without success, and in doing so she gradually approached the deserted hut. She scratched all around outside the hut and then went inside. She scratched around the edge of the hut and then worked toward the centre, until at length she came to the fireplace. Here she found the earth was soft as if recently disturbed, and she dug rapidly downward with her paws. She soon came to the stones, and, removing these, saw her last remaining brother hidden beneath them. “I greet you, my younger brother! Come up, I want to see you,” she said in a coaxing voice. Then she held out one finger to him and said: “Grasp my finger and I will help you up.” But Wind told him not to grasp her finger; that if he did she would throw him upwards, that he would fall half dead at her feet and be at her mercy. “Get up without her help,” whispered Nĭ′ltsi.

280. He climbed out of the hole on the east side and walked toward the east. She ran toward him in a threatening manner, but he looked at her calmly and said: “It is I, your younger brother.” Then she approached him in a coaxing way, as a dog approaches one with whom he wishes to make friends, and she led him back toward the deserted hogán. But as he approached it the Wind whispered: “We have had sorrow there, let us not enter,” so he would not go in, and this is the origin of the custom now among the Navahoes never to enter a house in which death had occurred.91

281. “Come,” she then said, “and sit with your face to the west, and let me comb your hair.” (It was now late in the afternoon.) “Heed her not,” whispered Wind; “sit facing the north, that you watch her shadow and see what she does. It is thus that she has killed your brothers.” They both sat down, she behind him, and she untied his queue and proceeded to arrange his hair, while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Soon he observed her snout growing longer and approaching his head, and he noticed that her ears were wagging. “What does it mean that your snout grows longer and that your ears move so?” he asked. She did not reply, but drew her snout in and kept her ears still. When these occurrences had taken place for the fourth time, Wind whispered in his ear: “Let not this happen again. If she puts out her snout the fifth time she will bite your head off. Yonder, where you see that chattering squirrel, are her vital parts. He guards them for her. Now run and destroy them.” He rose and ran toward the vital parts and she ran after him. Suddenly, between them a large yucca88 sprang up to retard her steps, and then a cane cactus,89 and then another yucca, and then another cactus of a different kind. She ran faster than he, but was so delayed in running around the plants that he reached the vitals before her, and heard the lungs breathing [103]under the weeds that covered them. He drew forth his chain-lightning arrow, shot it into the weeds, and saw a bright stream of blood spurting up. At the same instant the bear-woman fell with the blood streaming from her side.

282. “See!” whispered Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind, “the stream of blood from her body and the stream from her vitals flow fast and approach one another. If they meet she will revive, and then your danger will be greater than ever. Draw, with your stone knife, a mark on the ground between the approaching streams.” The young man did as he was bidden, when instantly the blood coagulated and ceased to flow.

283. Then the young man said: “You shall live again, but no longer as the mischievous Tsiké Sas Nátlehi.90 You shall live in other forms, where you may be of service to your kind and not a thing of evil.” He cut off the head and said to it: “Let us see if in another life you will do better. When you come to life again, act well, or again I will slay you.” He threw the head at the foot of a piñon-tree and it changed into a bear, which started at once to walk off. But presently it stopped, shaded its eyes with one paw, and looked back at the man, saying: “You have bidden me to act well; but what shall I do if others attack me?” “Then you may defend yourself,” said the young man; “but begin no quarrel, and be ever a friend to your people, the Dĭnéʻ. Go yonder to Black Mountain (Dsĭllĭzĭ′n) and dwell there.” There are now in Black Mountain many bears which are descended from this bear.

284. The hero cut off the nipples and said to them: “Had you belonged to a good woman and not to a foolish witch, it might have been your luck to suckle men. You were of no use to your kind; but now I shall make you of use in another form.” He threw the nipples up into a piñon-tree, heretofore fruitless, and they became edible pine nuts.

285. Next he sought the homes of his friends, the holy ones, Níyol and Pésasike. They led him to the east, to the south, to the west, and to the north, where the corpses of his brothers lay, and these they restored to life for him. They went back to the place where the brothers had dwelt before and built a new house; but they did not return to the old home, for that was now a tsĭ′ndi hogán and accursed.91

286. The holy ones then gave to the young hero the name of Léyaneyani, or Reared Under the Ground, because they had hidden him in the earth when his brethren fled from the wrath of his sister. They bade him go and dwell at a place called Atáhyĭtsoi (Big Point on the Edge), which is in the shape of a hogán, or Navaho hut, and here we think he still dwells. [104]

287. The Dĭnéʻ now removed to Tseʻlakaíia (White Standing Rock), where, a few days after they arrived, they found on the ground a small turquoise image of a woman; this they preserved. Of late the monsters (anáye, alien gods) had been actively pursuing and devouring the people, and at the time this image was found there were only four persons remaining alive;92 these were an old man and woman and their two children, a young man and a young woman. Two days after the finding of the image, early in the morning, before they rose, they heard the voice of Hastséyalti, the Talking God, crying his call of “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhu” so faint and far that they could scarcely hear it. After a while the call was repeated a second time, nearer and louder than at first. Again, after a brief silence, the call was heard for the third time, still nearer and still louder. The fourth call was loud and clear, as if sounded near at hand;26 as soon as it ceased, the shuffling tread of moccasined feet was heard, and a moment later the god Hastséyalti stood before them.

Plate IV. NAYÉNĔZGẠNI. (See pars. 76 and 105 and note 269.)

288. He told the four people to come up to the top of Tsolíhi after twelve nights had passed, bringing with them the turquoise image they had found, and at once he departed. They pondered deeply on his words, and every day they talked among themselves, wondering why Hastséyalti had summoned them to the mountain.

289. On the morning of the appointed day they ascended the mountain by a holy trail,93 and on a level spot, near the summit, they met a party that awaited them there. They found there Hastséyalti, Hastséhogan (the Home God), White Body (who came up from the lower world with the Dĭnéʻ), the eleven brothers (of Maid Who Becomes a Bear), the Mirage Stone People, the Daylight People standing in the east, the Blue Sky People standing in the south, the Yellow Light People standing in the west, and the Darkness People standing in the north. White Body stood in the east among the Daylight People, bearing in his hand a small image of a woman wrought in white shell, about the same size and shape as the blue image which the Navahoes bore.

290. Hastséyalti laid down a sacred buckskin with its head toward the west. The Mirage Stone People laid on the buckskin, heads west, the two little images,—of turquoise and white shell,—a white and a yellow ear of corn, the Pollen Boy, and the Grasshopper Girl. On top of all these Hastséyalti laid another sacred buckskin with its head to the east, and under this they now put Nĭ′ltsi (Wind).

291. Then the assembled crowd stood so as to form a circle, leaving in the east an opening through which Hastséyalti and Hastséhogan [105]might pass in and out, and they sang the sacred song of Hozóngisĭn. Four times the gods entered and raised the cover. When they raised it for the fourth time, the images and the ears of corn were found changed to living beings in human form: the turquoise image had become Estsánatlehi, the Woman Who Changes (or rejuvenates herself); the white shell image had become Yolkaí Estsán, the White Shell Woman; the white ear of corn had become Natálkai Asiké; the White Corn Boy and the yellow ear of corn, Natáltsoi Atét, the Yellow Corn Girl.94 After the ceremony, White Body took Pollen Boy, Grasshopper Girl, White Corn Boy, and Yellow Corn Girl with him into Tsolíhi; the rest of the assembly departed, and the two divine sisters, Estsánatlehi95 and Yolkaí Estsán,96 were left on the mountain alone.

292. The women remained here four nights; on the fourth morning Estsánatlehi said: “Sitĕ′zi (younger sister), why should we remain here? Let us go to yonder high point and look around us.” They went to the highest point of the mountain, and when they had been there several days Estsánatlehi said: “It is lonely here; we have no one to speak to but ourselves; we see nothing but that which rolls over our heads (the sun), and that which drops below us (a small dripping waterfall). I wonder if they can be people. I shall stay here and wait for the one in the morning, while you go down among the rocks and seek the other.”

293. In the morning Estsánatlehi found a bare, flat rock and lay on it with her feet to the east, and the rising sun shone upon her. Yolkaí Estsán went down where the dripping waters descended and allowed them to fall upon her. At noon the women met again on the mountain top and Estsánatlehi said to her sister: “It is sad to be so lonesome. How can we make people so that we may have others of our kind to talk to?” Yolkaí Estsán answered: “Think, Elder Sister; perhaps after some days you may plan how this is to be done.”

294. Four days after this conversation Yolkaí Estsán said: “Elder Sister, I feel something strange moving within me; what can it be?” and Estsánatlehi answered: “It is a child. It was for this that you lay under the waterfall. I feel, too, the motions of a child within me. It was for this that I let the sun shine upon me.” Soon after the voice of Hastséyalti was heard four times, as usual, and after the last call he and Tóʻnenĭli98 appeared. They came to prepare the women for their approaching delivery.99

295. In four days more they felt the commencing throes of labor, and one said to the other: “I think my child is coming.” She had scarcely spoken when the voice of the approaching god was heard, and soon Hastséyalti and Tóʻnenĭli (Water Sprinkler) were seen [106]approaching. The former was the accoucheur of Estsánatlehi, and the latter of Yolkaí Estsán.100 To one woman a drag-rope of rainbow was given, to the other a drag-rope of sunbeam, and on these they pulled when in pain, as the Navaho woman now pulls on the rope. Estsánatlehi’s child was born first.101 Hastséyalti took it aside and washed it. He was glad, and laughed and made ironical motions, as if he were cutting the baby in slices and throwing the slices away. They made for the children two baby-baskets, both alike; the foot-rests and the back battens were made of sunbeam, the hoods of rainbow, the side-strings of sheet lightning, and the lacing strings of zigzag lightning. One child they covered with the black cloud, and the other with the female rain.102 They called the children Sĭnáli (grandchildren), and they left, promising to return at the end of four days.

296. When the gods (yéi) returned at the end of four days, the boys had grown to be the size of ordinary boys of twelve years of age. The gods said to them: “Boys, we have come to have a race with you.” So a race was arranged that should go all around a neighboring mountain, and the four started,—two boys and two yéi. Before the long race was half done the boys, who ran fast, began to flag, and the gods, who were still fresh, got behind them and scourged the lads with twigs of mountain mahogany.103 Hastséyalti won the race, and the boys came home rubbing their sore backs. When the gods left they promised to return at the end of another period of four days.

297. As soon as the gods were gone, Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind, whispered to the boys and told them that the old ones were not such fast runners, after all, and that if the boys would practice during the next four days they might win the coming race. So for four days they ran hard, many times daily around the neighboring mountain, and when the gods came back again the youths had grown to the full stature of manhood. In the second contest the gods began to flag and fall behind when half way round the mountain, where the others had fallen behind in the first race, and here the boys got behind their elders and scourged the latter to increase their speed. The elder of the boys won this race, and when it was over the gods laughed and clapped their hands, for they were pleased with the spirit and prowess they witnessed.

298. The night after the race the boys lay down as usual to sleep; but hearing the women whispering together, they lay awake and listened. They strained their attention, but could not hear a word of what was uttered. At length they rose, approached the women, and said: “Mothers, of what do you speak?” and the women answered: “We speak of nothing.” The boys then said: “Grandmothers, [107]of what do you speak?” but the women again replied: “We speak of nothing.” The boys then questioned: “Who are our fathers?” “You have no fathers,” responded the women; “you are yutáski (illegitimate).” “Who are our fathers?” again demanded the boys, and the women answered: “The round cactus and the sitting cactus104 are your fathers.”

299. Next day the women made rude bows of juniper wood, and arrows, such as children play with, and they said to the boys: “Go and play around with these, but do not go out of sight from our hut, and do not go to the east.” Notwithstanding these warnings the boys went to the east the first day, and when they had travelled a good distance they saw an animal with brownish hair and a sharp nose. They drew their arrows and pointed them toward the sharp-nosed stranger; but before they could shoot he jumped down into a canyon and disappeared. When they returned home they told the women—addressing them as “Mother” and “Grandmother”—what they had seen. The women said: “That is Coyote which you saw. He is a spy for the anáye Téelgĕt.”

300. On the following day, although again strictly warned not to go far from the lodge, the boys wandered far to the south, and there they saw a great black bird seated on a tree. They aimed their arrows at it; but just as they were about to shoot the bird rose and flew away. The boys returned to the hogán and said to the women: “Mothers, we have been to the south to-day, and there we saw a great black bird which we tried to shoot; but before we could let loose our arrows it flew off.” “Alas!” said the women. “This was Raven that you saw. He is the spy of the Tseʻnă′hale, the great winged creatures that devour men.”

301. On the third day the boys slipped off unknown to the anxious women, who would fain keep them at home, and walked a long way toward the west. The only living thing they saw was a great dark bird with a red skinny head that had no feathers on it. This bird they tried to shoot also; but before they could do so it spread its wings and flew a long way off. They went home and said to the women: “Mothers, we have been to the west, and we have seen a great dark bird whose head was red and bare. We tried to shoot it, but it flew away before we could discharge our arrows.” “It was Dzéso, the Buzzard, that you saw,” said the women. “He is the spy for Tseʻtahotsĭltáʻli, he who kicks men down the cliffs.”

302. On the fourth day the boys stole off as usual, and went toward the north. When they had travelled a long way in that direction, they saw a bird of black plumage perched on a tree on the edge of a canyon. It was talking to itself, saying “aʻaʻiʻ.” They aimed at it, but before they could let fly their arrows it spread its [108]wings and tail and disappeared down the canyon. As it flew, the boys noticed that its plumes were edged with white. When they got home they told their mothers, as before, what they had seen. “This bird that you saw,” said the women, “is the Magpie. He is the spy for the Bĭnáye Aháni, who slay people with their eyes. Alas, our children! What shall we do to make you hear us? What shall we do to save you? You would not listen to us. Now the spies of the anáye (the alien gods) in all quarters of the world have seen you. They will tell their chiefs, and soon the monsters will come here to devour you, as they have devoured all your kind before you.”

303. The next morning the women made a corncake and laid it on the ashes to bake. Then Yolkaí Estsán went out of the hogán, and, as she did so, she saw Yéitso,105 the tallest and fiercest of the alien gods, approaching. She ran quickly back and gave the warning, and the women hid the boys under bundles and sticks. Yéitso came and sat down at the door, just as the women were taking the cake out of the ashes. “That cake is for me,” said Yéitso. “How nice it smells!” “No,” said Estsánatlehi, “it was not meant for your great maw.” “I don’t care,” said Yéitso. “I would rather eat boys. Where are your boys? I have been told you have some here, and I have come to get them.” “We have none,” said Estsánatlehi. “All the boys have gone into the paunches of your people long ago.” “No boys?” said the giant. “What, then, has made all the tracks around here?” “Oh! these tracks I have made for fun,” replied the woman. “I am lonely here, and I make tracks so that I may fancy there are many people around me.” She showed Yéitso how she could make similar tracks with her fist. He compared the two sets of tracks, seemed to be satisfied, and went away.

304. When he was gone, Yolkaí Estsán, the White Shell Woman, went up to the top of a neighboring hill to look around, and she beheld many of the anáye hastening in the direction of her lodge. She returned speedily, and told her sister what she had seen. Estsánatlehi took four colored hoops, and threw one toward each of the cardinal points,—a white one to the east, a blue one to the south, a yellow one to the west, and a black one to the north. At once a great gale arose, blowing so fiercely in all directions from the hogán that none of the enemies could advance against it.

305. Next morning the boys got up before daybreak and stole away. Soon the women missed them, but could not trace them in the dark. When it was light enough to examine the ground the women went out to look for fresh tracks. They found four footprints of each of the boys, pointing in the direction of the mountain of Dsĭlnáotĭl, but more than four tracks they could not find. They came to the conclusion that the boys had taken a holy trail, so they gave up further search and returned to the lodge. [109]

306. The boys travelled rapidly in the holy trail,93 and soon after sunrise, near Dsĭlnáotĭl, they saw smoke arising from the ground. They went to the place where the smoke rose, and they found it came from the smoke-hole of a subterranean chamber. A ladder, black from smoke, projected through the hole. Looking down into the chamber they saw an old woman, the Spider Woman,106 who glanced up at them and said: “Welcome, children. Enter. Who are you, and whence do you two come together walking?” They made no answer, but descended the ladder. When they reached the floor she again spoke to them, asking: “Whither do you two go walking together?” “Nowhere in particular,” they answered; “we came here because we had nowhere else to go.” She asked this question four times, and each time she received a similar answer. Then she said: “Perhaps you would seek your father?” “Yes,” they answered, “if we only knew the way to his dwelling.” “Ah!” said the woman, “it is a long and dangerous way to the house of your father, the Sun. There are many of the anáye dwelling between here and there, and perhaps, when you get there, your father may not be glad to see you, and may punish you for coming. You must pass four places of danger,—the rocks that crush the traveller, the reeds that cut him to pieces, the cane cactuses that tear him to pieces, and the boiling sands that overwhelm him. But I shall give you something to subdue your enemies and preserve your lives.” She gave them a charm called nayéatsos, or feather of the alien gods, which consisted of a hoop with two life-feathers (feathers plucked from a living eagle) attached, and another life-feather, hyĭná bĭltsós,107 to preserve their existence. She taught them also this magic formula, which, if repeated to their enemies, would subdue their anger: “Put your feet down with pollen.108 Put your hands down with pollen. Put your head down with pollen. Then your feet are pollen; your hands are pollen; your body is pollen; your mind is pollen; your voice is pollen. The trail is beautiful (bĭké hozóni). Be still.”109

307. Soon after leaving the house of Spider Woman, the boys came to Tseʻyeintĭ′li (the rocks that crush). There was here a narrow chasm between two high cliffs. When a traveller approached, the rocks would open wide apart, apparently to give him easy passage and invite him to enter; but as soon as he was within the cleft they would close like hands clapping and crush him to death. These rocks were really people; they thought like men; they were anáye. When the boys got to the rocks they lifted their feet as if about to enter the chasm, and the rocks opened to let them in. Then the boys put down their feet, but withdrew them quickly. The rocks closed with a snap to crush them; but the boys remained safe on [110]the outside. Thus four times did they deceive the rocks. When they had closed for the fourth time the rocks said: “Who are ye; whence come ye two together, and whither go ye?” “We are children of the Sun,” answered the boys. “We come from Dsĭlnáotĭl, and we go to seek the house of our father.” Then they repeated the words the Spider Woman had taught them, and the rocks said: “Pass on to the house of your father.” When next they ventured to step into the chasm the rocks did not close, and they passed safely on.

308. The boys kept on their way and soon came to a great plain covered with reeds that had great leaves on them as sharp as knives. When the boys came to the edge of the field of reeds (Lokáadikĭsi), the latter opened, showing a clear passage through to the other side. The boys pretended to enter, but retreated, and as they did so the walls of reeds rushed together to kill them. Thus four times did they deceive the reeds. Then the reeds spoke to them, as the rocks had done; they answered and repeated the sacred words. “Pass on to the house of your father,” said the reeds, and the boys passed on in safety.

309. The next danger they encountered was in the country covered with cane cactuses.89 These cactuses rushed at and tore to pieces whoever attempted to pass through them. When the boys came to the cactuses the latter opened their ranks to let the travellers pass on, as the reeds had done before. But the boys deceived them as they had deceived the reeds, and subdued them as they had subdued the reeds, and passed on in safety.

310. After they had passed the country of the cactus they came, in time, to Saitád, the land of the rising sands. Here was a great desert of sands that rose and whirled and boiled like water in a pot, and overwhelmed the traveller who ventured among them. As the boys approached, the sands became still more agitated and the boys did not dare venture among them. “Who are ye?” said the sands, “and whence come ye?” “We are children of the Sun, we came from Dsĭlnáotĭl, and we go to seek the house of our father.” These words were four times said. Then the elder of the boys repeated his sacred formula; the sands subsided, saying: “Pass on to the house of your father,” and the boys continued on their journey over the desert of sands.110

311. Soon after this adventure they approached the house of the Sun. As they came near the door they found the way guarded by two bears that crouched, one to the right and one to the left, their noses pointing toward one another. As the boys drew near, the bears rose, growled angrily, and acted as if about to attack the intruders; but the elder boy repeated the sacred words the Spider [111]Woman had taught him, and when he came to the last words, “Be still,” the bears crouched down again and lay still. The boys walked on. After passing the bears they encountered a pair of sentinel serpents, then a pair of sentinel winds, and, lastly, a pair of sentinel lightnings. As the boys advanced, all these guardians acted as if they would destroy them; but all were appeased with the words of prayer.111

312. The house of the Sun God was built of turquoise; it was square like a pueblo house, and stood on the shore of a great water. When the boys entered they saw, sitting in the west, a woman; in the south, two handsome young men;112 and in the north, two handsome young women. The women gave a glance at the strangers and then looked down. The young men gazed at them more closely, and then, without speaking, they rose, wrapped the strangers in four coverings of the sky, and laid them on a shelf.113

313. The boys had lain there quietly for some time when a rattle that hung over the door shook and one of the young women said: “Our father is coming.” The rattle shook four times, and soon after it shook the fourth time, Tsóhanoai, the bearer of the sun, entered his house. He took the sun off his back and hung it up on a peg on the west wall of the room, where it shook and clanged for some time, going “tla, tla, tla, tla,” till at last it hung still.

314. Then Tsóhanoai turned to the woman and said, in an angry tone: “Who are those two who entered here to-day?” The woman made no answer and the young people looked at one another, but each feared to speak. Four times he asked this question, and at length the woman said: “It would be well for you not to say too much. Two young men came hither to-day, seeking their father. When you go abroad, you always tell me that you visit nowhere, and that you have met no woman but me. Whose sons, then, are these?” She pointed to the bundle on the shelf, and the children smiled significantly at one another.

315. He took the bundle from the shelf. He first unrolled the robe of dawn with which they were covered, then the robe of blue sky, next the robe of yellow evening light, and lastly the robe of darkness. When he unrolled this the boys fell out on the floor. He seized them, and threw them first upon great, sharp spikes of white shell that stood in the east; but they bounded back, unhurt, from these spikes, for they held their life-feathers tightly all the while. He then threw them in turn on spikes of turquoise in the south, on spikes of haliotis in the west, and spikes of black rock in the north; but they came uninjured from all these trials and Tsóhanoai said: “I wish it were indeed true that they were my children.”

316. He said then to the elder children,—those who lived with [112]him,—“Go out and prepare the sweat-house and heat for it four of the hardest boulders you can find. Heat a white, a blue, a yellow, and a black boulder.” When the Winds heard this they said: “He still seeks to kill his children. How shall we avert the danger?” The sweat-house was built against a bank. Wind dug into the bank a hole behind the sudatory, and concealed the opening with a flat stone. Wind then whispered into the ears of the boys the secret of the hole and said: “Do not hide in the hole until you have answered the questions of your father.” The boys went into the sweat-house, the great hot boulders were put in and the opening of the lodge was covered with the four sky-blankets. Then Tsóhanoai called out to the boys: “Are you hot?” and they answered: “Yes, very hot.” Then they crept into the hiding-place and lay there. After a while Tsóhanoai came and poured water through the top of the sweat-house on the stones, making them burst with a loud noise, and a great heat and steam was raised. But in time the stones cooled and the boys crept out of their hiding-place into the sweat-house. Tsóhanoai came and asked again: “Are you hot?” hoping to get no reply; but the boys still answered: “Yes, very hot.” Then he took the coverings off the sweat-house and let the boys come out. He greeted them in a friendly way and said: “Yes, these are my children,” and yet he was thinking of other ways by which he might destroy them if they were not.

317. The four sky-blankets were spread on the ground one over another, and the four young men were made to sit on them, one behind another, facing the east. “My daughters, make these boys to look like my other sons,” said Tsóhanoai. The young women went to the strangers, pulled their hair out long, and moulded their faces and forms so that they looked just like their brethren. Then Sun bade them all rise and enter the house. They rose and all went, in a procession, the two strangers last.

318. As they were about to enter the door they heard a voice whispering in their ears: “St! Look at the ground.” They looked down and beheld a spiny caterpillar called Wasekede, who, as they looked, spat out two blue spits on the ground. “Take each of you one of these,” said Wind, “and put it in your mouth, but do not swallow it. There is one more trial for you,—a trial by smoking.” When they entered the house Tsóhanoai took down a pipe of turquoise that hung on the eastern wall and filled it with tobacco. “This is the tobacco he kills with,” whispered Nĭ′ltsi to the boys. Tsóhanoai held the pipe up to the sun that hung on the wall, lit it, and gave it to the boys to smoke. They smoked it, and passed it from one to another till it was finished. They said it tasted sweet, but it did them no harm. [113]

319. When the pipe was smoked out and Tsóhanoai saw the boys were not killed by it, he was satisfied and said: “Now, my children, what do you want from me? Why do you seek me?” “Oh, father!” they replied, “the land where we dwell is filled with the anáye, who devour the people. There are Yéitso and Téelgĕt, the Tseʻnáhale, the Bĭnáye Aháni, and many others. They have eaten nearly all of our kind; there are few left; already they have sought our lives, and we have run away to escape them. Give us, we beg, the weapons with which we may slay our enemies. Help us to destroy them.”

320. “Know,” said Tsóhanoai, “that Yéitso who dwells at Tsótsĭl is also my son, yet I will help you to kill him. I shall hurl the first bolt at him, and I will give you those things that will help you in war.” He took from pegs where they hung around the room and gave to each a hat, a shirt, leggings, moccasins, all made of pes (iron or knives),114 a chain-lightning arrow, a sheet-lightning arrow, a sunbeam arrow, a rainbow arrow, and a great stone knife or knife club (peshál).115 “These are what we want,” said the boys. They put on the clothes of pes, and streaks of lightning shot from every joint.116

321. Next morning Tsóhanoai led the boys out to the edge of the world, where the sky and the earth came close together, and beyond which there was no world. Here sixteen wands or poles leaned from the earth to the sky; four of these were of white shell, four of turquoise, four of haliotis shell, and four of red stone.117 A deep stream flowed between them and the wands. As they approached the stream, Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind, whispered: “This is another trial;” but he blew a great breath and formed a bridge of rainbow,86 over which the brothers passed in safety. Nĭ′ltsi whispered again: “The red wands are for war, the others are for peace;” so when Tsóhanoai asked his sons: “On which wands will ye ascend?” they answered: “On the wands of red stone,” for they sought war with their enemies. They climbed up to the sky on the wands of red stone, and their father went with them.118

322. They journeyed on till they came to Yágahoka, the sky-hole, which is in the centre of the sky.119 The hole is edged with four smooth, shining cliffs that slope steeply downwards,—cliffs of the same materials as the wands by which they had climbed from the earth to the sky. They sat down on the smooth declivities,—Tsóhanoai on the west side of the hole, the brothers on the east side. The latter would have slipped down had not the Wind blown up and helped them to hold on. Tsóhanoai pointed down and said: “Where do you belong in the world below? Show me your home.” The brothers looked down and scanned the land; but they could distinguish [114]nothing; all the land seemed flat; the wooded mountains looked like dark spots on the surface; the lakes gleamed like stars, and the rivers like streaks of lightning. The elder brother said: “I do not recognize the land, I know not where our home is.” Now Nĭ′ltsi prompted the younger brother, and showed him which were the sacred mountains and which the great rivers, and the younger exclaimed, pointing downwards: “There is the Male Water (San Juan River), and there is the Female Water (Rio Grande); yonder is the mountain of Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni; below us is Tsótsĭl; there in the west is Dokoslíd; that white spot beyond the Male Water is Depĕ′ntsa; and there between these mountains is Dsĭlnáotĭl, near which our home is.” “You are right, my child, it is thus that the land lies,” said Tsóhanoai. Then, renewing his promises, he spread a streak of lightning; he made his children stand on it,—one on each end,—and he shot them down to the top of Tsótsĭl (Mt. San Mateo, Mt. Taylor).

Plate V. EL CABEZON, NEAR SAN MATEO MOUNTAIN.128

(Heads of Yéitso and other giants slain by the Navaho War Gods.)

323. They descended the mountain on its south side and walked toward the warm spring at Tóʻsato.120 As they were walking along under a high bluff, where there is now a white circle, they heard voices hailing them. “Whither are you going? Come hither a while.” They went in the direction in which they heard the voices calling and found four holy people,—Holy Man, Holy Young Man, Holy Boy, and Holy Girl. The brothers remained all night in a cave with these people, and the latter told them all about Yéitso.121 They said that he showed himself every day three times on the mountains before he came down, and when he showed himself for the fourth time he descended from Tsótsĭl to Tóʻsato to drink; that, when he stooped down to drink, one hand rested on Tsótsĭl and the other on the high hills on the opposite side of the valley, while his feet stretched as far away as a man could walk between sunrise and noon.

324. They left the cave at daybreak and went on to Tóʻsato, where in ancient days there was a much larger lake than there is now. There was a high, rocky wall in the narrow part of the valley, and the lake stretched back to where Blue Water is to-day. When they came to the edge of the lake, one brother said to the other: “Let us try one of our father’s weapons and see what it can do.” They shot one of the lightning arrows at Tsótsĭl; it made a great cleft in the mountain, which remains to this day, and one said to the other: “We cannot suffer in combat while we have such weapons as these.”

325. Soon they heard the sound of thunderous footsteps, and they beheld the head of Yéitso peering over a high hill in the east; it was withdrawn in a moment. Soon after, the monster raised his head [115]and chest over a hill in the south, and remained a little longer in sight than when he was in the east. Later he displayed his body to the waist over a hill in the west; and lastly he showed himself, down to the knees, over Tsótsĭl in the north.122 Then he descended the mountain, came to the edge of the lake, and laid down a basket which he was accustomed to carry.

326. Yéitso stooped four times to the lake to drink, and, each time he drank, the waters perceptibly diminished; when he had done drinking, the lake was nearly drained.123 The brothers lost their presence of mind at sight of the giant drinking, and did nothing while he was stooping down. As he took his last drink they advanced to the edge of the lake, and Yéitso saw their reflection in the water. He raised his head, and, looking at them, roared: “What a pretty pair have come in sight! Where have I been hunting?” (i.e., that I never saw them before). “Yiniketóko! Yiniketóko!”124 “Throw (his words) back in his mouth,” said the younger to the elder brother. “What a great thing has come in sight! Where have we been hunting?” shouted the elder brother to the giant. Four times these taunts were repeated by each party. The brothers then heard Nĭ′ltsi whispering quickly, “Akóʻ! Akóʻ! Beware! Beware!” They were standing on a bent rainbow just then; they straightened the rainbow out, descending to the ground, and at the same instant a lightning bolt, hurled by Yéitso, passed thundering over their heads. He hurled four bolts rapidly; as he hurled the second, they bent their rainbow and rose, while the bolt passed under their feet; as he discharged the third they descended, and let the lightning pass over them. When he threw the fourth bolt they bent the rainbow very high, for this time he aimed higher than before; but his weapon still passed under their feet and did them no harm. He drew a fifth bolt to throw at them; but at this moment the lightning descended from the sky on the head of the giant and he reeled beneath it, but did not fall.125 Then the elder brother sped a chain-lightning arrow; his enemy tottered toward the east, but straightened himself up again. The second arrow caused him to stumble toward the south (he fell lower and lower each time), but again he stood up and prepared himself to renew the conflict. The third lightning arrow made him topple toward the west, and the fourth to the north. Then he fell to his knees, raised himself partly again, fell flat on his face, stretched out his limbs, and moved no more.

327. When the arrows struck him, his armor was shivered in pieces and the scales flew in every direction. The elder brother said: “They may be useful to the people in the future.”126 The brothers then approached their fallen enemy and the younger [116]scalped him. Heretofore the younger brother bore only the name of Toʻbadzĭstsíni, or Child of the Water; but now his brother gave him also the warrior name of Naídikĭsi (He Who Cuts Around). What the elder brother’s name was before this we do not know; but ever after he was called Nayénĕzgạni (Slayer of the Alien Gods).127

328. They cut off his head and threw it away to the other side of Tsótsĭl, where it may be seen to-day on the eastern side of the mountain.128 The blood from the body now flowed in a great stream down the valley, so great that it broke down the rocky wall that bounded the old lake and flowed on. Nĭ′ltsi whispered to the brothers: “The blood flows toward the dwelling of the Bĭnáye Aháni; if it reaches them, Yéitso will come to life again.” Then Nayénĕzgạni took his peshál, or knife club, and drew with it across the valley a line. Here the blood stopped flowing and piled itself up in a high wall. But when it had piled up here very high it began to flow off in another direction, and Nĭ′ltsi again whispered: “It now flows toward the dwelling of Sasnalkáhi, the Bear that Pursues; if it reaches him, Yéitso will come to life again.” Hearing this, Nayénĕzgạni again drew a line with his knife on the ground, and again the blood piled up and stopped flowing. The blood of Yéitso fills all the valley to-day, and the high cliffs in the black rock that we see there now are the places where Nayénĕzgạni stopped the flow with his peshál.129

329. They then put the broken arrows of Yéitso and his scalp into his basket and set out for their home near Dsĭlnáotĭl. When they got near the house, they took off their own suits of armor and hid these, with the basket and its contents, in the bushes. The mothers were rejoiced to see them, for they feared their sons were lost, and they said: “Where have you been since you left here yesterday, and what have you done?” Nayénĕzgạni replied: “We have been to the house of our father, the Sun. We have been to Tsótsĭl and we have slain Yéitso.” “Ah, my child,” said Estsánatlehi, “do not speak thus. It is wrong to make fun of such an awful subject.” “Do you not believe us?” said Nayénĕzgạni; “come out, then, and see what we have brought back with us.” He led the women out to where he had hidden the basket and showed them the trophies of Yéitso. Then they were convinced and they rejoiced, and had a dance to celebrate the victory.130

330. When their rejoicings were done, Nayénĕzgạni said to his mother: “Where does Téelgĕt131 dwell?” “Seek not to know,” she answered, “you have done enough. Rest contented. The land of the anáye is a dangerous place. The anáye are hard to kill.” “Yes, and it was hard for you to bear your child,” the son replied (meaning [117]that she triumphed notwithstanding). “He lives at Bikehalzĭ′n,” she said. Then the brothers held a long council to determine what they should do. They made two cigarette kethawns of a plant called azeladĭltéhe,132 one black and one blue, each three finger-widths long; to these they attached a sunbeam and laid them in a turquoise dish. “I shall go alone to fight Téelgĕt,” said Nayénĕzgạni, “while you, younger brother, remain at home and watch these kethawns. If they take fire from the sunbeam, you may know that I am in great danger; as long as they do not take fire, you may know that I am safe.” This work was finished at sundown.133

331. Nayénĕzgạni arose early next morning and set out alone to find Téelgĕt. He came, in time, to the edge of a great plain, and from one of the hills that bordered it he saw the monster lying down a long way off. He paused to think how he could approach nearer to him without attracting his attention, and in the mean time he poised one of his lightning arrows in his hand, thinking how he should throw it. While he stood thus in thought, Nasĭ′zi, the Gopher, came up to him and said: “I greet you, my friend! Why have you come hither?” “Oh, I am just wandering around,” said Nayénĕzgạni. Four times this question was asked and this answer was given. Then Nasĭ′zi said: “I wonder that you come here; no one but I ever ventures in these parts, for all fear Téelgĕt. There he lies on the plain yonder.” “It is him I seek,” said Nayénĕzgạni; “but I know not how to approach him.” “Ah, if that is all you want, I can help you,” said Gopher; “and if you slay him, all I ask is his hide. I often go up to him, and I will go now to show you.” Having said this, Nasĭ′zi disappeared in a hole in the ground.

332. While he was gone Nayénĕzgạni watched Téelgĕt. After a while he saw the great creature rise, walk from the centre in four different directions, as if watching, and lie down again in the spot where he was first seen. He was a great, four-footed beast, with horns like those of a deer. Soon Nasĭ′zi returned and said: “I have dug a tunnel up to Téelgĕt, and at the end I have bored four tunnels for you to hide in, one to the east, one to the south, one to the west, and one to the north. I have made a hole upwards from the tunnel to his heart, and I have gnawed the hair off near his heart. When I was gnawing the hair he spoke to me and said: ‘Why do you take my hair?’ and I answered, ‘I want it to make a bed for my children.’ Then it was that he rose and walked around; but he came back and lay down where he lay before, over the hole that leads up to his heart.”

333. Nayénĕzgạni entered the tunnel and crawled to the end. When he looked up through the ascending shaft of which Nasĭ′zi had told him, he saw the great heart of Téelgĕt beating there. He sped [118]his arrow of chain-lightning and fled into the eastern tunnel. The monster rose, stuck one of his horns into the ground, and ripped the tunnel open. Nayénĕzgạni fled into the south tunnel; Téelgĕt then tore the south tunnel open with his horns, and the hero fled into the west tunnel. When the west tunnel was torn up he fled into the north tunnel. The anáye put his horn into the north tunnel to tear it up, but before he had half uncovered it he fell and lay still. Nayénĕzgạni, not knowing that his enemy was dead, and still fearing him, crept back through the long tunnel to the place where he first met Nasĭ′zi, and there he stood gazing at the distant form of Téelgĕt.

Plate VI. LAVA FLOW IN THE VALLEY OF THE SAN JOSÉ, NEW MEXICO.129

(The blood of Yéitso.)

334. While he was standing there in thought, he observed approaching him a little old man dressed in tight leggings and a tight shirt, with a cap and feather on his head; this was Hazaí, the Ground Squirrel. “What do you want here, my grandchild?” said Hazaí. “Nothing; I am only walking around,” replied the warrior. Four times this question was asked and four times a similar answer given, when Ground Squirrel spoke again and inquired: “Do you not fear the anáye that dwells on yonder plain?” “I do not know,” replied Nayénĕzgạni; “I think I have killed him, but I am not certain.” “Then I can find out for you,” said Hazaí. “He never minds me. I can approach him any time without danger. If he is dead I will climb up on his horns and dance and sing.” Nayénĕzgạni had not watched long when he saw Hazaí climbing one of the horns and dancing on it. When he approached his dead enemy he found that Hazaí had streaked his own face with the blood of the slain (the streaks remain on the ground squirrel’s face to this day), and that Nasĭ′zi had already begun to remove the skin by gnawing on the insides of the fore-legs. When Gopher had removed the skin, he put it on his own back and said: “I shall wear this in order that, in the days to come, when the people increase, they may know what sort of a skin Téelgĕt wore.” He had a skin like that which covers the Gopher to-day. Hazaí cut out a piece of the bowel, filled it with blood, and tied the ends; he cut out also a piece of one of the lungs, and he gave these to Nayénĕzgạni for his trophies.134

335. When Nayénĕzgạni came home again, he was received with great rejoicing, for his mother had again begun to fear he would never more return. “Where have you been, my son, and what have you done since you have been gone?” she queried. “I have been to Bikehalzĭ′n and I have slain Téelgĕt,” he replied. “Ah, speak not thus, my son,” she said; “he is too powerful for you to talk thus lightly about him. If he knew what you said he might seek you out and kill you.” “I have no fear of him,” said her son. “Here is his blood, and here is a piece of his liver. Do you not now believe I have slain him?” Then he said: “Mother, grandmother, tell me, [119]where do the Tseʻnă′hale135 dwell?” “They dwell at Tséʻbĭtaï (Winged Rock),”136 she answered, “but do not venture near them; they are fierce and strong.”

336. Next morning early he stole away, taking with him the piece of bowel filled with blood. He climbed the range of mountains where the hill of Tsúskai rises, and travelled on till he came to a place where two great snakes lay. Since that day these snakes have been changed into stone. He walked along the back of one of the snakes, and then he stepped from one snake to the other and went out on the plain that stretched to the east of the mountains, until he came close to Tséʻbĭtaï, which is a great black rock that looks like a bird. While he was walking along he heard a tremendous rushing sound overhead, like the sound of a whirlwind, and, looking up, he saw a creature of great size, something like an eagle in form, flying toward him from the east. It was the male Tseʻnă′hale. The warrior had barely time to cast himself prone on the ground when Tseʻnă′hale swooped over him. Thus four times did the monster swoop at him, coming each time from a different direction. Three times Nayénĕzgạni escaped; but the fourth time, flying from the north, the monster seized him in his talons and bore him off to Tséʻbĭtaï.

337. There is a broad, level ledge on one side of Tséʻbĭtaï, where the monster reared his young; he let the hero drop on this ledge, as was his custom to do with his victims, and perched on a pinnacle above. This fall had killed all others who had dropped there; but Nayénĕzgạni was preserved by the life-feather, the gift of Spider Woman, which he still kept. When the warrior fell he cut open the bag of bowel that he carried and allowed the blood of Téelgĕt to flow out over the rock, so that the anáye might think he was killed. The two young approached to devour the body of the warrior, but he said “Sh!” at them. They stopped and cried up to their father: “This thing is not dead; it says ‘Sh!’ at us.” “That is only air escaping from the body,” said the father; “Never mind, but eat it.” Then he flew away in search of other prey. When the old bird was gone, Nayénĕzgạni hid himself behind the young ones and asked them, “When will your father come back, and where will he sit when he comes?” They answered: “He will return when we have a he-rain,137 and he will perch on yonder point” (indicating a rock close by on the right). Then he inquired: “When will your mother return, and where will she sit?” “She will come when we have a she-rain,137 and will sit on yonder point” (indicating a crag on the left). He had not waited long when drops of rain began to fall, the thunder rolled, lightning flashed, the male Tseʻnă′hale returned and perched on the rock which the young had pointed out. Then [120]Nayénĕzgạni hurled a lightning arrow and the monster tumbled to the foot of Winged Rock dead. After a while rain fell again, but there was neither thunder nor lightning with it. While it still poured, there fell upon the ledge the body of a Pueblo woman, covered with fine clothes and ornamented with ear pendants and necklaces of beautiful shells and turquoise. Nayénĕzgạni looked up and beheld the female Tseʻnă′hale soaring overhead (she preyed only on women, the male only on men). A moment later she glided down, and was just about to light on her favorite crag, when Nayénĕzgạni hurled another lightning arrow and sent her body down to the plain to join that of her mate.

338. The young ones now began to cry, and they said to the warrior: “Will you slay us, too?” “Cease your wailing,” he cried. “Had you grown up here you would have been things of evil; you would have lived only to destroy my people; but I shall now make of you something that will be of use in the days to come when men increase in the land.” He seized the elder and said to it, “You shall furnish plumes for men to use in their rites, and bones for whistles.” He swung the fledgling back and forth four times; as he did so it began to change into a beautiful bird with strong wings, and it said: “Sŭk, sŭk, sŭk, sŭk.” Then he threw it high in the air. It spread its pinions and soared out of sight, an eagle. To the younger he said: “In the days to come men will listen to your voice to know what will be their future: sometimes you will tell the truth; sometimes you will lie.” He swung it back and forth, and as he did so its head grew large and round; its eyes grew big; it began to say, “Uwú, uwú, uwú, uwú,” and it became an owl. Then he threw it into a hole in the side of the cliff and said: “This shall be your home.”138

339. As he had nothing more to do at Tséʻbĭtaï, he determined to go home, but he soon found that there was no way for him to descend the rock; nothing but a winged creature could reach or leave the ledge on which he stood. The sun was about half way down to the horizon when he observed the Bat Woman walking along near the base of the cliff. “Grandmother,” he called aloud, “come hither and take me down.” “Tsĕ′dăni,”139 she answered, and hid behind a point of rock. Again she came in view, and again he called her; but she gave him the same reply and hid herself again. Three times were these acts performed and these words said. When she appeared for the fourth time and he begged her to carry him down, he added: “I will give you the feathers of the Tseʻnă′hale if you will take me off this rock.” When she heard this she approached the base of the rock, and soon disappeared under the ledge where he stood. Presently he heard a strange flapping sound,140 and a voice [121]calling to him: “Shut your eyes and go back, for you must not see how I ascend.” He did as he was bidden, and soon after the Bat Woman stood beside him. “Get into this basket, and I will carry you down,” she demanded. He looked at the large carrying-basket which she bore on her back, and observed that it hung on strings as thin as the strings of a spider’s web. “Grandmother,” he said, “I fear to enter your basket; the strings are too thin.” “Have no fear,” she replied; “I often carry a whole deer in this basket: the strings are strong enough to bear you.” Still he hesitated, and still she assured him. The fourth time that he expressed his fear she said: “Fill the basket with stones and you will see that I speak the truth.” He did as he was bidden, and she danced around with the loaded basket on her back; but the strings did not break, though they twanged like bowstrings. When he entered the basket she bade him keep his eyes shut till they reached the bottom of the cliff, as he must not see how she managed to descend. He shut his eyes, and soon felt himself gradually going down; but he heard again the strange flapping against the rock, which so excited his curiosity that he opened his eyes. Instantly he began to fall with dangerous rapidity, and the flapping stopped; she struck him with her stick and bade him shut his eyes. Again he felt himself slowly descending, and the flapping against the rock began. Three times more he disobeyed her, but the last time they were near the bottom of the cliff, and both fell to the ground unhurt.

340. Together they plucked the two Tseʻnă′hale, put the feathers in her basket, and got the basket on her back. He reserved only the largest feather from one wing of each bird for his trophies. As she was starting to leave he warned her not to pass through either of two neighboring localities, which were the dry beds of temporary lakes; one was overgrown with weeds, the other with sunflowers. Despite his warning she walked toward the sunflowers. As she was about to enter them he called after her again, and begged her not to go that way, but she heeded him not and went on. She had not taken many steps among the sunflowers when she heard a fluttering sound behind her, and a little bird of strange appearance flew past her close to her ear. As she stepped farther on she heard more fluttering and saw more birds of varying plumage, such as she had never seen before, flying over her shoulders and going off in every direction. She looked around, and was astonished to behold that the birds were swarming out of her own basket. She tried to hold them in, to catch them as they flew out, but all in vain. She laid down her basket and watched, helplessly, her feathers changing into little birds of all kinds,—wrens, warblers, titmice, and the like,—and flying away, until her basket was empty. Thus it was that the little birds were created.141 [122]

341. When he got home Toʻbadzĭstsíni said to him: “Elder brother, I have watched the kethawns all the time you were gone. About midday the black cigarette took fire, and I was troubled, for I knew you were in danger; but when it had burned half way the fire went out and then I was glad, for I thought you were safe again.” “Ah, that must have been the time when Tseʻnă′hale carried me up and threw me on the rocks,” said Nayénĕzgạni. He hung his trophies on the east side of the lodge, and then he asked his mother where Tseʻtahotsĭltáʻli142 dwelt. She told him he lived at Tseʻtezáʻ; but, as on previous occasions, she warned him of the power of the enemy, and tried to dissuade him from seeking further dangers. Next morning he set out to find Tseʻtahotsĭltáʻli, He Who Kicks (People) Down the Cliff. This anáye lived on the side of a high cliff, a trail passed at his feet, and when travellers went that way he kicked them down to the bottom of the precipice. Nayénĕzgạni had not travelled long when he discovered a well-beaten trail; following this, he found that it led him along the face of a high precipice, and soon he came in sight of his enemy, who had a form much like that of a man. The monster reclined quietly against the rock, as if he meditated no harm, and Nayénĕzgạni advanced as if he feared no danger, yet watching his adversary closely. As he passed, the latter kicked at him, but he dodged the kick and asked: “Why did you kick at me?” “Oh, my grandchild,” said the anáye, “I was weary lying thus, and I only stretched out my leg to rest myself.” Four times did Nayénĕzgạni pass him, and four times did the monster kick at him in vain. Then the hero struck his enemy with his great stone knife over the eyes, and struck him again and again till he felt sure that he had slain him; but he was surprised to find that the body did not fall down the cliff. He cut with his knife under the corpse in different places, but found nothing that held it to the rock until he came to the head, and then he discovered that the long hair grew, like the roots of a cedar, into a cleft in the rock. When he cut the hair,143 the body tumbled down out of sight. The moment it fell a great clamor of voices came up from below. “I want the eyes,” screamed one; “Give me an arm,” cried another; “I want the liver,” said a third; “No, the liver shall be mine,” yelled a fourth; and thus the quarrelling went on. “Ah!” thought Nayénĕzgạni, “these are the children quarrelling over the father’s corpse. Thus, perhaps, they would have been quarrelling over mine had I not dodged his kicks.”

342. He tried to descend along the trail he was on, but found it led no farther. Then he retraced his steps till he saw another trail that seemed to lead to the bottom of the cliff. He followed it and soon came to the young of the anáye, twelve in number, who had [123]just devoured their father’s corpse; the blood was still streaming from their mouths. He ran among them, and hacked at them in every direction with his great stone knife. They fled; but he pursued them, and in a little while he had killed all but one. This one ran faster than the rest, and climbed among some high rocks; but Nayénĕzgạni followed him and caught him. He stopped to take breath; as he did so he looked at the child and saw that he was disgustingly ugly and filthy. “You ugly thing,” said Nayénĕzgạni; “when you ran from me so fleetly I thought you might be something handsome and worth killing; but now that I behold your face I shall let you live. Go to yonder mountain of Natsĭsaán144 and dwell there. It is a barren land, where you will have to work hard for your living, and will wander ever naked and hungry.” The boy went to Natsĭsaán, as he was told, and there he became the progenitor of the Pahutes, a people ugly, starved, and ragged, who never wash themselves and live on the vermin of the desert.145

343. He went to where he had first found the children of Tseʻtahotsĭltáʻli. Nothing was left of the father’s corpse but the bones and scalp. (This anáye used to wear his hair after the manner of a Pueblo Indian.) The hero cut a piece of the hair from one side of the head and carried it home as a trophy. When he got home there were the usual questions and answers and rejoicings, and when he asked his mother, “Where is the home of the Bĭnáye Aháni, the people who slay with their eyes,” she begged him, as before, to rest contented and run no more risks; but she added: “They live at Tseʻahalzĭ′ni, Rock with Black Hole.”146 This place stands to this day, but is changed since the anáye dwelt there. It has still a hole, on one side, that looks like a door, and another on the top that looks like a smoke-hole.

344. On this occasion, in addition to his other weapons, he took a bag of salt with him on his journey.147 When he came to Tseʻahalzĭ′ni he entered the rock house and sat down on the north side. In other parts of the lodge sat the old couple of the Bĭnáye Aháni and many of their children. They all stared with their great eyes at the intruder, and flashes of lightning streamed from their eyes toward him, but glanced harmless off his armor. Seeing that they did not kill him, they stared harder and harder at him, until their eyes protruded far from their sockets. Then into the fire in the centre of the lodge he threw the salt, which spluttered and flew in every direction, striking the eyes of the anáye and blinding them. While they held down their heads in pain, he struck with his great stone knife and killed all except the two youngest.

345. Thus he spoke to the two which he spared: “Had you grown up here, you would have lived only to be things of evil and to destroy [124]men; but now I shall make you of use to my kind in the days to come when men increase on the earth.” To the elder he said: “You will ever speak to men and tell them what happens beyond their sight; you will warn them of the approach of enemies,” and he changed it into a bird called Tsĭdĭltói148 (shooting or exploring bird). He addressed the younger, saying: “It will be your task to make things beautiful, to make the earth happy.” And he changed it into a bird called Hostódi,149 which is sleepy in the daytime and comes out at night.

346. When he reached home with his trophies, which were the eyes150 of the first Bĭnáye Aháni he had killed, and told what he had done, Estsánatlehi took a piece of the lung of Téelgĕt (which he had previously brought home), put it in her mouth, and, dancing sang this song:—

347. When she had finished her rejoicings he asked, “Where shall I find Sasnalkáhi (Bear that Pursues)?” “He lives at Tseʻbahástsĭt (Rock that Frightens),” she replied; but again she pleaded with him, pictured to him the power of the enemy he sought, and begged him to venture no more.

348. Next morning he went off to Rock that Frightens and walked all around it, without meeting the bear or finding his trail. At length, looking up to the top of the rock, he saw the bear’s head sticking out of a hole, and he climbed up. The bear’s den was in the shape of a cross, and had four entrances. Nayénĕzgạni looked into the east entrance, the south entrance, and the west entrance without getting sight of his enemy. As he approached the north entrance he saw the head of the watching bear again; but it was [125]instantly withdrawn, and the bear went toward the south entrance. The hero ran round fast and lay in wait. In a little while the bear thrust forth his head to look, and Nayénĕzgạni cut it off with his great stone knife.

349. He addressed the head, saying: “You were a bad thing in your old life, and tried only to do mischief; but in new shapes I shall make you of use to the people; in the future, when they increase upon the earth, you will furnish them with sweet food to eat, with foam to cleanse their bodies, and with threads for their clothing.” He cut the head into three pieces: he threw one to the east, where it became tsási, or haskán (Yucca baccata); he threw another to the west, where it became tsásitsoz (Yucca angustifolia); and he threw the third to the south, where it became nóta (mescal). He cut off the left forepaw to take home as a trophy.

350. “Where shall I find Tséʻnagahi (Travelling Stone)?” he said after he had returned from his encounter with Pursuing Bear and shown his trophy to his people. “You will find him in a lake near where Tséʻespai points up,” answered Estsánatlehi; but she implored him not to go near the lake. He did not heed her, and next morning he went off to seek the Travelling Stone.

351. He approached the lake on the north side, while the wind was blowing from the south, but he saw nothing of the stone. Thence he went around to the south side of the lake. When he got here the stone scented him, rose to the surface, poised itself a moment, and flew toward Nayénĕzgạni as if hurled by a giant hand. Raising his lightning arrow, he held it in the course of the stone and knocked a piece off the latter. When the stone fell he struck another piece off with his knife. Tséʻnagahi now saw it had a powerful foe to contend against; so, instead of hurling itself at him again, it fled and Nayénĕzgạni went in pursuit. He chased it all over the present Navaho land, knocking pieces off it in many places152 as he followed, until at length he chased it into the San Juan River at Tsĭntáhokata, where a point of forest runs down toward the river.

352. Travelling Stone sped down with the current and Nayénĕzgạni ran along the bank after it. Four times he got ahead of the stone, but three times it escaped him by dipping deep into the river. When he headed it off for the fourth time, he saw it gleaming like fire under the water, and he stopped to gaze at it. Then the stone spoke and said: “Sawé (my baby, my darling), take pity on me, and I shall no longer harm your people, but do good to them instead. I shall keep the springs in the mountains open and cause your rivers to flow; kill me and your lands will become barren.” Nayénĕzgạni answered: “If you keep this promise I shall spare you; but if you [126]ever more do evil as you have done before, I shall seek you again, and then I shall not spare you.” Tséʻnagahi has kept his promise ever since, and has become the Tiéholtsodi of the upper world.

353. He brought home no trophy from the contest with Tséʻnagahi. It had now been eight days since he left the house of the Sun.153 He was weary from his battles with the anáye, and he determined to rest four days. During this time he gave his relatives a full account of his journeys and his adventures from first to last, and as he began he sang a song:—

354. There were still many of the anáye to kill; there was White under the Rock, Blue under the Rock, Yellow under the Rock, Black under the Rock, and many yélapahi, or brown giants. Besides these there were a number of stone pueblos, now in ruins, that were inhabited by various animals (crows, eagles, etc.),154 who filled the land and left no room for the people. During the four days of rest, the brothers consulted as to how they might slay all these enemies, and they determined to visit again the house of the Sun. On the morning of the fourth night they started for the east. They encountered no enemies on the way and had a pleasant journey. When they entered the house of the Sun no one greeted them; no one offered them a seat. They sat down together on the floor, and as soon as they were seated lightning began to shoot into the lodge. It struck the ground near them four times. Immediately after the last flash Tsápani, Bat, and Tóʻnenĭli, Water Sprinkler, entered. “Do not be angry with us,” said the intruders; “we flung the lightning only because we feel happy and want to play with you:” still the brothers kept wrathful looks on their faces, until Nĭ′ltsi whispered into their ears: “Be not angry with the strangers. They were once friends of the anáye and did not wish them to die; but now they are friends of yours, since you have conquered the greatest of the anáye.” Then, at last, Tsóhanoai spoke to his children, saying: [127]“These people are rude; they respect no one. Heed them not. Here are seats for you. Be seated.” Saying this, he offered the brothers a seat of shell and a seat of turquoise; but Nĭ′ltsi told the brothers not to take them. “These are seats of peace,” he said; “you still want help in war. Nayénĕzgạni, take the seat of red stone, which is the warrior’s seat; and you, Toʻbadzĭstsíni, stand.” They did as the Wind bade them.

355. “My children, why do you come to me again?” asked Tsóhanoai, the bearer of the sun. “We come for no special purpose; we come only to pass away the time,” Nayénĕzgạni answered. Three times he asked this question and got the same reply. When he asked for the fourth time, he added, “Speak the truth. When you came to me before I gave you all you asked for.” Now it was Toʻbadzĭstsíni who replied: “Oh, father! there are still many of the anáye left, and they are increasing. We wish to destroy them.” “My children,” said Tsóhanoai, “when I helped you before, I asked you for nothing in return. I am willing to help you again; but I wish to know, first, if you are willing to do something for me. I have a long way to travel every day, and often, in the long summer days, I do not get through in time, and then I have no place to rest or eat till I get back to my home in the east. I wish you to send your mother to the west that she may make a new home for me.” “I will do it,” said Nayénĕzgạni; “I will send her there.” But Toʻbadzĭstsíni said: “No, Estsánatlehi is under the power of none; we cannot make promises for her, she must speak for herself, she is her own mistress; but I shall tell her your wishes and plead for you.” The room they were in had four curtains which closed the ways leading into other apartments. Tsóhanoai lifted the curtain in the east, which was black, and took out of the room in the east five hoops: one of these was colored black, another blue, a third yellow, and a fourth white, the fifth was many-colored and shining. Each hoop had attached to it a knife of the same color as itself. He took out also four great hailstones, colored like the four first hoops. He gave all these to his sons and said: “Your mother will know what to do with these things.”

356. When they got their gifts they set out on their homeward journey. As they went on their way they beheld a wonderful vision. The gods spread before them the country of the Navahoes as it was to be in the future when men increased in the land and became rich and happy. They spoke to one another of their father, of what he had said to them, of what they had seen in his house, and of all the strange things that had happened. When they got near their journey’s end they sang this song:— [128]

357. When they got within sight of their home they sang this song:—

358. When the brothers got home they said to Estsánatlehi: “Here are the hoops which our father has given us, and he told us you knew all about them. Show us, then, how to use them.” She replied: “I have no knowledge of them.” Three times she thus answered their questions. When they spoke to her for the fourth time and Nayénĕzgạni was becoming angry and impatient, she said: “I have never seen the Sun God except from afar. He has never been down to the earth to visit me. I know nothing of these talismans of his, but I will try what I can do.” She took the black hoop to the east, set it up so that it might roll, and spat through it the black hail, which was four-cornered; at once the hoop rolled off to the east and rolled out of sight. She took the blue hoop to the south, set it up, and spat through it the blue hail, which was six-cornered. Then the hoop rolled away to the south and disappeared. She carried [129]the yellow hoop to the west, set it up, and spat through it the eight-cornered yellow hail; the hoop rolled off to the west and was lost to sight. She bore the white hoop to the north; spat through it the white hail, which had eleven corners, and the hoop sped to the north until it was seen no more. She threw the shining hoop up toward the zenith, threw the four colored knives in the same direction, and blew a powerful breath after them. Up they all went until they were lost to sight in the sky. As each hoop went away thunder was heard.155

359. During four days after this nothing of importance happened, and no change came in the weather. At the end of four days they heard thunder high up in the sky, and after this there were four days more of good weather. Then the sky grew dark, and something like a great white cloud descended from above. Estsánatlehi went abroad; she saw in all directions great whirlwinds which uprooted tall trees as if they had been weeds, and tossed great rocks around as if they had been pebbles. “My son, I fear for our house,” she said when she came back. “It is high among the mountains, and the great winds may destroy it.” When he heard this, Nayénĕzgạni went out. He covered the house first with a black cloud, which he fastened to the ground with rainbows; second, with a black fog, which he fastened down with sunbeams; third, with a black cloud, which he secured with sheet-lightning; and fourth, with a black fog, which he secured with chain-lightning. At sunset that evening they caught a little glimpse of the sun; but after that, continuously for four days and four nights, it was dark; a storm of wind and hail prevailed, such as had never been seen before, and the air was filled with sharp stones carried before the wind. The people stayed safe in the lodge, but they could hear the noise of the great storm without. On the morning of the fifth day the tumult ceased, and Nayénĕzgạni, going out, found that all was calm, though it was still dark. He now proceeded to remove the coverings from the lodge and threw them upwards toward the heavens. As the first covering, a sheet of fog, ascended, chain-lightning shot out of it (with chain-lightning it had been fastened down). As the second covering, a cloud, ascended, sheet-lightning came forth from it. As the third covering, a fog, went up, sunbeams streamed from it; and as the fourth cover, a robe of cloud, floated up, it became adorned with rainbows. The air was yet dark, and full of dust raised by the high wind; but a gentle shower of rain came later, laying the dust, and all was clear again. All the inmates of the lodge now came out, and they marvelled to see what changes the storm had wrought: near their house a great canyon had been formed; the shape of the bluffs around had been changed, and solitary pillars of rock156 had been hewn by the winds. [130]

360. “Surely all the anáye are now killed,” said Estsánatlehi. “This storm must have destroyed them.” But Nĭ′ltsi whispered into Nayénĕzgạni’s ear, “San (Old Age) still lives.” The hero said then to his mother: “Where used Old Age to dwell?” His mother would not answer him, though he repeated his question four times. At last Nĭ′ltsi again whispered in his ear and said: “She lives in the mountains of Depĕ′ntsa.”

361. Next morning he set out for the north, and when, after a long journey, he reached Depĕ′ntsa, he saw an old woman who came slowly toward him leaning on a staff. Her back was bent, her hair was white, and her face was deeply wrinkled. He knew this must be San. When they met he said: “Grandmother, I have come on a cruel errand. I have come to slay you.” “Why would you slay me?” she said in a feeble voice, “I have never harmed any one. I hear that you have done great deeds in order that men might increase on the earth, but if you kill me there will be no increase of men; the boys will not grow up to become fathers; the worthless old men will not die; the people will stand still. It is well that people should grow old and pass away and give their places to the young. Let me live, and I shall help you to increase the people.” “Grandmother, if you keep this promise I shall spare your life,” said Nayénĕzgạni, and he returned to his mother without a trophy.

362. When he got home Nĭ′ltsi whispered to him: “Hakáz Estsán (Cold Woman) still lives.” Nayénĕzgạni said to Estsánatlehi: “Mother, grandmother, where does Cold Woman dwell?” His mother would not answer him; but Nĭ′ltsi again whispered, saying: “Cold Woman lives high on the summits of Depĕ′ntsa, where the snow never melts.”

363. Next day he went again to the north and climbed high among the peaks of Depĕ′ntsa, where no trees grow and where the snow lies white through all the summer. Here he found a lean old woman, sitting on the bare snow, without clothing, food, fire, or shelter. She shivered from head to foot, her teeth chattered, and her eyes streamed water. Among the drifting snows which whirled around her, a multitude of snow-buntings were playing; these were the couriers she sent out to announce the coming of a storm. “Grandmother,” he said, “a cruel man I shall be. I am going to kill you, so that men may no more suffer and die by your hand,” and he raised his knife-club to smite her. “You may kill me or let me live, as you will. I care not,” she said to the hero; “but if you kill me it will always be hot, the land will dry up, the springs will cease to flow, the people will perish. You will do well to let me live. It will be better for your people.” He paused and thought upon her words. He lowered the hand he had raised to strike her, saying: “You speak wisely, [131]grandmother; I shall let you live.” He turned around and went home.

364. When Nayénĕzgạni got home from this journey, bearing no trophy, Wind again whispered in his ear and said: “Tieín (Poverty) still lives.” He asked his mother where Poverty used to live, but she would not answer him. It was Wind who again informed him. “There are two, and they dwell at Dsĭldasdzĭ′ni.”

365. He went to Dsĭldasdzĭ′ni next day and found there an old man and an old woman, who were filthy, clad in tattered garments, and had no goods in their house. “Grandmother, grandfather,” he said, “a cruel man I shall be. I have come to kill you.” “Do not kill us, my grandchild,” said the old man: “it would not be well for the people, in days to come, if we were dead; then they would always wear the same clothes and never get anything new. If we live, the clothing will wear out and the people will make new and beautiful garments; they will gather goods and look handsome. Let us live and we will pull their old clothes to pieces for them.” So he spared them and went home without a trophy.

366. The next journey was to seek Dĭtsĭ′n, Hunger, who lived, as Nĭ′ltsi told him, at Tlóhadaskaí, White Spot of Grass. At this place he found twelve of the Hunger People. Their chief was a big, fat man, although he had no food to eat but the little brown cactus. “I am going to be cruel,” said Nayénĕzgạni, “so that men may suffer no more the pangs of hunger and die no more of hunger.” “Do not kill us,” said the chief, “if you wish your people to increase and be happy in the days to come. We are your friends. If we die, the people will not care for food; they will never know the pleasure of cooking and eating nice things, and they will never care for the pleasures of the chase.” So he spared also the Dĭtsĭ′n, and went home without a trophy.

367. When Nayénĕzgạni came back from the home of Hunger, Nĭ′ltsi spoke to him no more of enemies that lived. The Slayer of the Alien Gods said to his mother: “I think all the anáye must be dead, for every one I meet now speaks to me as a relation; they say to me, ‘my grandson,’ ‘my son,’ ‘my brother.’ ”157 Then he took off his armor—his knife, moccasins, leggings, shirt, and cap—and laid them in a pile; he put with them the various weapons which the Sun had given him, and he sang this song:—

368. His song had scarcely ceased when they heard, in the far east, a loud voice singing this song:—

369. As the voice came nearer and the song continued, Estsánatlehi said to the youths: “Put on quickly the clothes you usually wear, Tsóhanoai is coming to see us; be ready to receive him,” and she left the lodge, that she might not hear them talk about the anáye.

370. When the god had greeted his children and taken a seat, he said to the elder brother: “My son, do you think you have slain all the anáye?” “Yes, father,” replied the son, “I think I have killed all that should die.” “Have you brought home trophies from the slain?” the father questioned again. “Yes, my father,” was the reply; “I have brought back wing-feathers, and lights and hair and [133]eyes, and other trophies of my enemies.” “It is not well,” said Tsóhanoai, “that the bodies of these great creatures should lie where they fell; I shall have them buried near the corpse of Yéitso.” (He got the holy ones to carry the corpses to San Mateo and hide them under the blood of Yéitso, and this is the reason we do not see them lying all over the land now, but sometimes see them sticking out of the rocks.)159 He took the trophies and the armor and said: “These I shall carry back to my house in the east and keep them safe. If you ever need them again, come and get them.” Promising to come back again in four days, and meet Estsánatlehi on the top of Tsolíhi, he departed.

371. At the end of four days Estsánatlehi went to the top of Tsolíhi and sat down on a rock. Tsóhanoai came, sat beside her, and sought to embrace her; but she avoided him, saying: “What do you mean by this? I want none of your embraces.” “It means that I want you for my own,” said the bearer of the Sun. “I want you to come to the west and make a home for me there.” “But I do not wish to do so,” said she. “What right have you to ask me?” “Have I not given your boys the weapons to slay the alien gods?” he inquired, and added: “I have done much for you: now you must reward me.” She replied, “I never besought you to do this. You did not do it on my account; you did it of your own good will, and because your sons asked you.” He urged another reason: “When Nayénĕzgạni visited me in the east, he promised to give you to me.” “What care I for his promise?” she exclaimed; “I am not bound by it. He has no right to speak for me.” Thus four times she repulsed him. When he pleaded for the fifth time, saying: “Come to the west and make a home for me,” she said: “Let me hear first all you have to promise me. You have a beautiful house in the east. I have never seen it, but I have heard how beautiful it is. I want a house just the same built for me in the west; I want to have it built floating on the water, away from the shore, so that in the future, when people increase, they will not annoy me with too many visits. I want all sorts of gems—white shell, turquoise, haliotis, jet, soapstone, agate, and redstone—planted around my house, so that they will grow and increase. Then I shall be lonely over there and shall want something to do, for my sons and my sister will not go with me. Give me animals to take along. Do all this for me and I shall go with you to the west.” He promised all these things to her, and he made elk, buffalo, deer, long-tail deer, mountain sheep, jack-rabbits, and prairie-dogs to go with her.

372. When she started for her new home the Hadáhonestiddĭneʻ and the Hadáhonigedĭneʻ, two tribes of divine people,160 went with [134]her and helped her to drive the animals, which were already numerous. They passed over the Tuĭntsá range at Péslĭtsi (Red Knife or Red Metal), and there they tramped the mountain down so that they formed a pass. They halted in Tsĭnlí valley to have a ceremony161 and a foot-race, and here the animals had become vastly more numerous. When they crossed Dsĭllĭzĭ′n (Black Mountain),162 the herd was so great that it tramped a deep pass whose bottom is almost on a level with the surrounding plain; at Black Mountain all the buffaloes broke from the herd and ran to the east; they never returned to Estsánatlehi and are in the east still. At Hostóditoʻ the elks went to the east and they never returned. From time to time a few, but not all, of the antelope, deer, and other animals left the herd and wandered east. Four days after leaving Tsĭnlí valley they arrived at Dokoslíd (San Francisco Mountain), and here they stopped to perform another ceremony. What happened on the way from this mountain to the great water in the west, we do not know, but after a while Estsánatlehi arrived at the great water and went to dwell in her floating house beyond the shore. Here she still lives, and here the Sun visits her, when his journey is done, every day that he crosses the sky. But he does not go every day; on dark, stormy days he stays at home in the east and sends in his stead the serpents of lightning, who do mischief.

Plate VII. TOʻBADZĬSTSÍNI. (See pars. 76 and 105 and note 270.)

373. As he journeys toward the west, this is the song he sings:—

374. When Estsánatlehi had departed, Nayénĕzgạni and Toʻbadzĭstsíni went, as their father had bidden them, to Toʻyĕ′tli,163 where two rivers join, in the valley of the San Juan; there they made their dwelling, there they are to this day, and there we sometimes still see their forms in the San Juan River.164 The Navahoes still go there to pray, but not for rain, or good crops, or increase of stock; only for success in war, and only the warriors go. [135]

375. Before Estsánatlehi left, she said to Yolkaí Estsán: “Now, younger sister, I must leave you. Think well what you would most like to do after I am gone.” The younger sister replied: “I would most like to go back to Depĕ′ntsa, where our people came from.” “Alas! you will be lonely there,” said the elder sister. “You will want for some one around you to make a noise and keep you company.” Still, when Estsánatlehi left, Yolkaí Estsán turned her face toward Depĕ′ntsa. She went with the two brothers as far as Toʻyĕ′tli, and, when these stopped there, she set out alone for the mountains.

376. When she got to Depĕ′ntsa (the San Juan Mountains), she went first to a place lying east of Hadzinaí (the Place of Emergence), named Dsĭlladĭltéhi; in an old ruined pueblo on its side she rested during the day, and at night she went to the top of the mountain to sleep. On the second day she went to a mountain south of the Place of Emergence, called Dsĭlĭ′ndĭltéhi; rested on the side of the mountain during the day, and on its top at night. She began now to feel lonely, and at night she thought of how men might be made to keep her company. She wandered round in thought during the third day, and on the third night she slept on top of Dsĭltagiĭltéhi, a mountain west of Hadzinaí. On the fourth day she walked around the Place of Emergence, and wandered into the old ruins she found there. On the fourth night she went to the top of Dsĭltĭnĭltéz, the mountain which lies to the north of the Place of Emergence, and there she rested, but did not sleep; for she thought all the time about her loneliness, and of how people might be made. On the fifth day she came down to the shores of the lake which surrounded the Place of Emergence, and built a shelter of brush. “I may as well stay here,” she said to herself; “what does it avail that I wander round?” She sat up late that night thinking of her lonely condition. She felt that she could not stay there longer without companionship. She thought of her sister in the far west, of the Twelve People, of the gods that dwelt in the different mountains, and she thought she might do well to go and live with some of them.

377. The next morning she heard faintly, in the early dawn, the voice of Hastséyalti shouting his usual “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú,” in the far east. Four times the cry was uttered, each time louder and nearer. Immediately after the last call the god appeared. “Where did you save yourself?” he asked the White Shell Woman, meaning, “Where were you, that you escaped the anáye when they ravaged [136]the land?” “I was at Dsĭlnáotĭl with my sister,” she said; “but for five nights I have been all alone in these mountains. I have been hoping that something might happen to relieve my great loneliness,—that I might meet some one. Sítsaí (Grandfather), whence do you come?” He replied: “I come from Tseʻgíhi,165 the home of the gods. I pity your loneliness and wish to help you. If you remain where you are, I shall return in four days and bring Estsánatlehi, the divine ones of all the great mountains, and other gods, with me.” When he left, she built for herself a good hut with a storm door. She swept the floor clean, and made a comfortable bed of soft grass and leaves.

378. At dawn on the fourth day after the god departed, Yolkaí Estsán heard two voices calling,—the voice of Hastséyalti, the Talking God, and the voice of Hastséhogan, the House God. The voices were heard, as usual, four times, and immediately after the last call the gods appeared. It was dark and misty that day; the sun did not rise. Soon after the arrival of the first two, the other promised visitors came, and they all formed themselves in a circle east of the lodge, each in the place where he or she belonged. Thus the divine ones of Tsĭsnadzĭ′ni stood in the east; those of Tsótsĭl (San Mateo Mountain) in the south; those of Dokoslíd (San Francisco Mountain) in the west; those of Depĕ′ntsa (San Juan Mountain) in the north. Each one present had his appropriate place in the group. At first Yolkaí Estsán stood in the west; but her sister, Estsánatlehi, said to her: “No, my young sister; go you and stand in the east. My place is in the west,” and thus they stood during the ceremony. Estsánatlehi brought with her two sacred blankets called Dĭlpĭ′l-naská, the Dark Embroidered, and Lakaí-naská, the White Embroidered. Hastséhogan brought with him two sacred buckskins, and the Nalkénaaz (a divine couple who came together walking arm in arm) brought two ears of corn,—one yellow, one white,—which the female carried in a dish of turquoise.

379. Hastséyalti laid the sacred blankets on the ground, and spread on top of these one of the sacred buckskins with its head to the west. He took from the dish of the female Nalkénaaz the two ears of corn, handing the white ear to Tseʻgádĭnatĭni Asiké, the Rock Crystal Boy of the eastern mountain, and the yellow ear to Natáltsoi Atét, the Yellow Corn Girl of San Francisco Mountain. These divine ones laid the ears on the buckskin,—the yellow with its tip toward the west, the white with its tip toward the east. Hastséyalti picked up the ears, and nearly laid them down on the buckskin with their tips to the east, but he did not let them touch the buckskin; as he did this he uttered his own cry of “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú.” Then he nearly laid them down with their tips to the south, giving [137]as he did so Hastséhogan’s cry of “Ha-wa-u-ú.” With similar motions he pointed the ears to the west and the north. Next he raised them toward the sky, and at length laid them down on the buckskin, with their tips to the east. He accompanied each act with a cry of his own or of Hastséhogan, alternating as in the beginning. So the ears were turned in every direction, and this is the reason the Navahoes never abide in one home like the Pueblos, but wander ever from place to place. Over the ears of corn he laid the other sacred buckskin with its head to the east, and then Nĭ′ltsi, the Wind, entered between the skins. Four times, at intervals, Hastséyalti raised the buckskins a little and peeped in. When he looked the fourth time, he saw that the white ear of corn was changed to a man, and the yellow ear to a woman. It was Nĭ′ltsi who gave them the breath of life. He entered at the heads and came out at the ends of the fingers and toes, and to this day we see his trail in the tip of every human finger. The Rock Crystal Boy furnished them with mind, and the Grasshopper Girl gave them voices. When Hastséyalti at last threw off the top buckskin, a dark cloud descended and covered like a blanket the forms of the new pair. Yolkaí Estsán led them into her hogán, and the assembled gods dispersed. Before he left, Hastséyalti promised to return in four days.

380. No songs were sung and no prayers uttered during their rites, and the work was done in one day. The hogán near which all these things happened still stands; but since that time it has been transformed into a little hill. To-day (A.D. 1884) seven times old age has killed since this pair was made by the holy ones from the ears of corn. The next very old man who dies will make the eighth time.166

381. Early on the fourth morning after his departure Hastséyalti came again as he had promised, announcing his approach by calling four times as usual. When White Shell Woman heard the first call, she aroused the young people and said: “Get up, my children, and make a fire. Hastséyalti is coming.” He brought with him another couple, Hadáhonige Asiké (Mirage Boy) and Hadáhonestid Atét (Ground-heat Girl). He gave Yolkaí Estsán two ears of corn, saying, “Grind only one grain at a time,” and departed. Yolkaí Estsán said to the newly-arrived couple: “This boy and girl of corn cannot marry one another, for they are brother and sister; neither can you marry one another, for you are also brother and sister, yet I must do something for you all.” So she married the boy made of corn to the Ground-heat Girl, and the Mirage Boy to the girl made of corn. After a time each couple had two children,—a boy and a girl. When these were large enough to run around, this family all moved away from Hadzinaí, where they had lived four years, to Tseʻlakaíia [138](White Standing Rock). The two men were busy every day hunting rabbits, rats, and other such animals, for on such game they chiefly lived. From these people are descended the gens of Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni,167 House of the Dark Cliffs; so named because the gods who created the first pair came from the cliff houses of Tseʻgíhi, and brought from there the ears of corn from which this first pair was made.

382. After they had lived thirteen years at Tseʻlakaíia, during which time they had seen no sign of the existence of any people but themselves, they beheld one night the gleam of a distant fire. They sought for the fire all that night and the next day, but could not find it. The next night they saw it again in the same place, and the next day they searched with greater vigilance, but in vain. On the third night, when the distant gleam shone again through the darkness, they determined to adopt some means, better than they had previously taken, to locate it. They drove a forked stick firmly into the ground; one of the men got down on his hands and knees, spreading them as wide apart as possible, and sighted the fire through the fork of the stick. Next morning he carefully placed his hands and knees in the tracks which they had made the night before, and once more looked through the fork. His sight was thus guided to a little wooded hollow on the side of a far-off mountain. One of the men walked over to the mountain and entered the little hollow, which was small and could be explored in a few moments; but he discovered no fire, no ashes, no human tracks, no evidence of the presence of man. On the fourth night all the adults of the party took sight over the forked stick at the far twinkle, and in the morning when they looked again they found they had all sighted the same little grove on the distant mountain-side. “Strange!” said the man who had hunted there the day before; “the place is small. I went all through it again and again. There was no sign of life there, and not a drop of water that could reflect a ray from a star or from the moon.” Then all the males of the family, men and boys, went to explore the little wood. Just as they were about to return, having found nothing, Wind whispered into the ear of one: “You are deceived. That light shines through a crack in the mountain at night. Cross the ridge and you will find the fire.”168 They had not gone far over the ridge when they saw the footprints of men, then the footprints of children, and soon they came to the camp. One party was as much rejoiced as the other to find people like themselves in the wilderness. They embraced one another, and shouted mutual greetings and questions. “Whence do you come?” said the strangers. “From Tseʻlakaíia,” was the response. “And whence come you?” asked the men of [139]the White Standing Rock. “We tarried last,” replied the strangers, “at Toʻĭ′ndotsos, a poor country, where we lived on ducks and snakes.169 We have been here only a few days, and now we live on ground-rats, prairie-dogs, and wild seeds.” The new party consisted of twelve persons,—five men, three women, one grown girl, one grown boy, and two small children. The Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni people took the strangers home with them, and Yolkaí Estsán welcomed them, saying: “Ahaláni sastsíni!” (Greeting, my children!) The place where the Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni found the strangers encamped was called Tséʻtlana (Bend in a Canyon); so they gave them the name of Tseʻtláni, or Tseʻtlánidĭneʻ, and from them is descended the present gens of Tseʻtláni in the Navaho nation.

383. The next morning after the arrival of the Tseʻtláni, Hastséyalti came once more to the lodge of the White Shell Woman; but he talked with her apart from the others, and when he was gone she told no one what he said. In three days he came back again; again they talked apart, and when Hastséyalti was gone she remained silent. It was her custom to sleep with one of the little girls, who was her favorite and companion. In the morning after the second visit of Hastséyalti she said to this little girl: “I am going to leave you. The gods of Tseʻgíhi have sent for me; but I shall not forget your people, and shall come often to watch over them and be near them. Tell them this when they waken.” When she had spoken she disappeared from the sight of the little girl, and when the people woke they searched, but could find her nowhere. They supposed she had gone to Tseʻgíhi and tarried there a while before she went to Depĕ′ntsa to dwell forever in the house of White Shell, which had been prepared for her there. The fourth night after the departure of Yolkaí Estsán the little girl had a dream, which she related to her people in the morning. In the vision she saw Yolkaí Estsán, who said to her: “My grandchild, I am going to Depĕ′ntsa to dwell. I would take you with me, for I love you, were it not that your parents would mourn for you. But look always for the she-rain when it comes near your dwelling, for I shall ever be in the she-rain.”

384. While at White Standing Rock the men wandered much around the country in search of food. Some who had been to Toʻdokónzi (Saline Water) said the latter was a better place than than that in which they lived; that there were some porcupines there, an abundance of rats, prairie-dogs, and seed-bearing plants; and that there were steep-sided mesa points in the neighborhood where they might surround large game.170 After the departure of Yolkaí Estsán the people all moved to Toʻdokónzi;171 but they remained here only a few days, and then went to Tsaʻolgáhasze. [140]Here they planted some grains of corn from the two ears that Hastséyalti had given them long ago. This was a very prolific kind of corn; when planted, several stalks sprouted from each grain, and a single grain, when ground, produced a large quantity of meal, which lasted them many days.

385. When they had been fourteen years at Tsaʻolgáhasze they were joined by another people, who came from the sacred mountain of Dsĭlnáotĭl, and were therefore called Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni, or Dsĭlnaotĭ′ldĭneʻ. These were regarded as dĭnéʻ dĭgíni, or holy people, because they had no tradition of their recent creation, and were supposed to have escaped the fury of the alien gods by means of some miraculous protection. They did not camp at first with the older settlers, but dwelt a little apart, and sent often to the latter to borrow pots and metates. After a while all joined together as one people, and for a long time these three gentes have been as one gens and have become close relations to one another. The new-comers dug among old ruins and found pots and stone axes; with the latter they built themselves huts.

386. Seven years after the arrival of the Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni a fourth gens joined the Navahoes. The new arrivals said they had been seeking for the Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni all over the land for many years. Sometimes they would come upon the dead bushes of old camps. Sometimes they would find deserted brush shelters, partly green, or, again, quite green and fresh. Occasionally they would observe faint footprints, and think they were just about to meet another people like themselves in the desolate land; but again all traces of humanity would be lost. They were rejoiced to meet at last the people they so long had sought. The new-comers camped close to the Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni, and discovered that they and the latter carried similar red arrow-holders,172 such as the other gentes did not have, and this led them to believe that they were related to the Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni. The Navahoes did not then make large skin quivers such as they have in these days; they carried their arrows in simpler contrivances. The strangers said that they came from a place called Haskánhatso (much Yucca baccata), and that they were the Haskándĭneʻ, or Yucca People; but the older gentes called them Haskánhatso, or Haskanhatsódĭneʻ, from the place whence they came.173

387. Fourteen years after the accession of the fourth gens, the Navahoes moved to Kĭntyél (which was then a ruin), in the Chaco Canyon. They camped there at night in a scattering fashion, and made so many fires that they attracted the attention of some strangers camped on a distant mountain, and these strangers came down next day to find out who the numerous people were that kindled [141]so many fires. As the strangers, who were also dĭnéʻ dĭgíni, or holy people, said they came from Nahopá (Place of the Brown Horizontal Streak), the Navahoes called them Nahopáni. They joined the tribe, camping near the Haskánhatso and Dsĭlnaotĭ′lni.

388. It was autumn when the fifth gens was received. Then the whole tribe moved to the banks of the San Juan River and settled at a place called Tsĭntóʻbetlo174 (Tree Sweeping Water), where a peculiar white tree hangs over the stream and sweeps the surface of the water with its long branches: there is no other tree of its kind near by. Here they determined to remain some time and raise crops; so they built warm huts for the winter, and all the fall and winter, when the days were fair, they worked in the bottom-lands grubbing up roots and getting the soil ready for gardens to be planted in the spring. The elder gentes camped farther down the stream than those more newly arrived.

389. In those days the language which the Navahoes spoke was not the same they speak now. It was a poor language then; it is better in these days.

390. When the tribe had been living six years on the banks of the San Juan, a band joined them who came from Tsĭ′nadzĭn175 (Black Horizontal Forest), and were named as a gens from the place whence they came. The Navahoes observed that in this band there was a man who talked a great deal to the people almost every morning and evening. The Navahoes did not at first understand what this meant; but after a while they learned he spoke to his people because he was their chief. His name was Nabĭnĭltáhi.

391. While living at the San Juan the people amused themselves much with games. They played mostly nánzoz76 in the daytime and kĕsĭtsé176 at night. They had as yet no horses, domestic sheep, or goats. They rarely succeeded in killing deer or Rocky Mountain sheep. When they secured deer it was sometimes by still-hunting them, sometimes by surrounding one and making it run till it was exhausted, and sometimes by driving them over precipices. When a man got two skins of these larger animals he made a garment of them by tying the fore-legs together over his shoulders. The woman wore a garment consisting of two webs of woven cedar bark, one hanging in front and one behind; all wore sandals of yucca fibre or cedar bark. They had headdresses made of weasel-skins and rat-skins, with the tails hanging down behind. These headdresses were often ornamented with colored artificial horns, made out of wood, or with the horns of the female mountain sheep shaved thin. Their blankets were made of cedar bark, of yucca fibre, or of skins sewed together.177 Each house had, in front of the door, a long passageway, in which hung two curtains,—one at the [142]outer, the other at the inner end,—made usually of woven cedar bark. In winter they brought in plenty of wood at night, closed both curtains, and made the house warm before they went to sleep. Their bows were of plain wood then; the Navahoes had not yet learned to put animal fibre on the backs of the bows.178 Their arrows were mostly of reeds tipped with wood; but some made wooden arrows.180 The bottom-land which they farmed was surrounded by high bluffs, and hemmed in up-stream and down-stream by jutting bluffs which came close to the river. After a time the tribe became too numerous for all to dwell and farm on this spot, so some went up in the bluffs to live and built stone storehouses in the cliffs,179 while others—the Tsĭnadzĭ′ni—went below the lower promontory to make gardens. Later yet, some moved across the San Juan and raised crops on the other side of the stream.180

392. Eight years after the coming of the Tsĭnadzĭ′ni, some fires were observed at night on a distant eminence north of the river, and spies were sent out to see who made them. The spies brought back word that they had found a party of strangers encamped at a place called Thaʻnĕzáʻ, Among the Scattered (Hills). Soon after, this party came in and joined the Navahoes, making a new gens, which was called Thaʻnĕzáʻni. The strangers said they were descended from the Hadáhonigedĭneʻ, or Mirage People. The remains of their old huts are still to be seen at Thaʻnĕzáʻ.

393. Five years after the Thaʻnĕzáʻni were added, another people joined the tribe; but what gods sent them none could tell. They came from a place called Dsĭltláʻ (Base of Mountain), and were given the name of Dsĭltláʻni. As they had headdresses, bows, arrows, and arrow-holders similar to those of the Thaʻnĕzáʻni they concluded they must be related to the latter. Ever since, these two gentes have been very close friends,—so close that a member of one cannot marry a member of the other. The Dsĭltláʻni knew how to make wicker water-bottles, carrying-baskets, and earthen pots, and they taught their arts to the rest of the people.

394. Five years later, they were joined on the San Juan by a numerous band who came originally from a place called Tháʻpahahalkaí, White Valley among the Waters, which is near where the city of Santa Fé now stands. These people had long viewed in the western distance the mountains where the Navahoes dwelt, wondering if any one lived there, and at length decided to go thither. They journeyed westward twelve days till they reached the mountains, and they spent eight days travelling among them before they encountered the Navahoes. Then they settled at Toʻĭ′ndotsos and lived there twelve years, subsisting on ducks and fish,169 but making no farms. All this time they were friendly to the Navahoes and [143]exchanged visits; but, finding no special evidences of relationship with the latter, they dwelt apart. When at length they came to the San Juan to live, marriages had taken place between members of the two tribes, and the people from Among the Waters became a part of the Navaho nation, forming the gens of Tháʻpaha. They settled at a place called Hyíĕtyĭn (Trails Leading Upward), close to the Navahoes. Here was a smooth, sandy plain, which they thought would be good for farming, and the chief, whose name was Góntso, or Big Knee, had stakes set around the plain to show that his people claimed it. The people of the new gens were good hunters, skilled in making weapons and beautiful buckskin shirts, and they taught their arts to the other gentes.

395. The Tháʻpaha then spoke a language more like the modern Navaho than that which the other gentes spoke. The languages were not alike. The chief of the Tsĭnadzĭ′ni and Góntso often visited one another at night, year after year, for the purpose of uniting the two languages and picking out the words in each that were best. But the words of the Tháʻpaha were usually the best and plainest;182 so the new language resembles the Tháʻpaha more than it resembles the old Navaho.

396. While the Tháʻpaha lived at Hyíĕtyĭn they had always abundant crops,—better crops than their neighbors had. Sometimes they could not harvest all they raised, and let food lie ungathered in the field. They built stone storehouses, something like pueblo houses, among the cliffs, and in these stored their corn. The storehouses stand there yet. The Tháʻpaha remained at Hyíĕtyĭn thirteen years, during which time many important events occurred, as will be told, and then they moved to Azdeltsígi.

397. Góntso had twelve wives; four of these were from the gens of Tsĭnadzĭ′ni, four from the gens of Dsĭltláʻni, and four from the gens of Thaʻnĕzáʻni. He used to give much grain from his abundant harvests to the gentes to which his wives belonged; but, in spite of his generosity, his wives were unfaithful to him. He complained to their relations and to their chiefs; these remonstrated with the wives, but failed to improve their ways. At last they lost patience with the women and said to Góntso: “Do with them as you will. We shall not interfere.” So the next wife whom he detected in crime he mutilated in a shameful way, and she died in consequence. He cut off the ears of the next transgressor, and she, too, died. He amputated the breasts of the third wife who offended him, and she died also. He cut off the nose of the fourth; she did not die. He determined then that cutting the nose should, in future, be the greatest punishment imposed on the faithless wife,—something that would disfigure but not kill,—and the rest of the [144]people agreed with him.183 But this had no effect on the remaining wives; they continued to lapse from virtue till all were noseless. Then they got together and began to plot mischief against their husband, Big Knee. They spoke so openly of their evil intentions that he feared to let any of them stay in his lodge at night and he slept alone.

398. About this time the people determined to have a great ceremony for the benefit of Big Knee; so they made great preparations and held a rite of nine days’ duration.184 During its progress the mutilated women remained in a hut by themselves, and talked about the unkindness of their people and the vengeance due to their husband. They said one to another: “We should leave our people and go elsewhere.” On the last night of the ceremony there was a series of public exhibitions in a corral, or circle of branches, such as the Navahoes have now on the last night of the ceremony of the mountain chant,185 and among the different alíli, or entertainments of the night, was a dance by the mutilated women. When their time came they entered the circle, each bearing a knife in her hand, and danced around the central fire, peering among the spectators as if searching for their husband; but he was hidden in the wall of branches that formed the circle. As they danced they sang a song the burden of which was “Pésla asilá.” (It was the knife that did it to me.) When they had finished their dance they left the corral, and, in the darkness without, screamed maledictions at their people, saying: “May the waters drown ye! May the winters freeze ye! May the fires burn ye! May the lightnings strike ye!” and much more. Having cursed till they were tired, they departed for the far north, where they still dwell, and now, whenever they turn their faces to the south, we have cold winds and storms and lightning.

399. Not long after this memorable ceremony a number of Utes visited the Navahoes. They came when the corn-ears were small, and remained till the corn was harvested. They worked for the Navahoes, and when their stomachs were filled all left except one family, which consisted of an old couple, two girls, and a boy. These at first intended to stay but a short time after their friends had gone; but they tarried longer and longer, and postponed their going from time to time, till they ended by staying with the Navahoes till they died. They made particular friends with the Tháʻpaha, and got into the way of speaking to the latter people as they would to relations. One of the girls, whose name was Tsáʻyĭskĭd (Sage-Brush Hill), lived to be an old woman and the mother of many children. From her is descended the gens of Tsaʻyĭskĭ′dni, which is so closely allied to the Tháʻpaha that a member of one of these gentes may not marry a member of the other. [145]

400. Soon after the departure of the Utes the Navahoes were joined by a group of people who, when they came to tell their story, were found to have come from Tháʻpaha-halkaí, and to have made wanderings similar to those of the people who first came from that place. The new people spoke, also, the same language as the Tháʻpaha. For these reasons they were not formed into a new gens, but were joined to the gens of Tháʻpaha.

401. Some years later a large band came from the south to the settlement on the San Juan. It consisted of Apaches, who told the Navahoes that they had left their old tribe forever and desired to become Navahoes. They had not come to visit, they said, but to stay. They all belonged to one gens among the Apaches,—the gens of Tseʻzindiaí (Trap-dyke),186 and they were admitted into the tribe as a new gens with their old name. From the beginning they showed a desire to associate with Tháʻpaha, and now they are closely related to the latter and must not marry with them. Another band of Apaches, which came a little later, was added to the same gens.

402. About this time there was a great famine in Zuñi, and some people from this pueblo came to the San Juan to dwell with the Navahoes. They came first to the Tháʻpaha, and, although they had women in the party, they were not formed into a new gens, but added to Tháʻpaha. The gens of Zuñi was formed later.

403. The famine prevailed also at other pueblos, and some starving people came to the Navahoes from an old pueblo named Klógi, which was near where the pueblo of Jemez now stands. These formed the gens of Klógi, and made special friends of the Tháʻpaha.

404. The next accession was a family of seven adults, who came from a place called Tóʻhani (Near the Water). They first visited the Dsĭltláʻni and remained, forming the gens of Tóʻhani, affiliated now with Dsĭltláʻni.

405. The people who joined the Navahoes next after the Tóʻhani came from a place called Thaʻtsí, Among the Red (Waters or Banks), which was west of the San Juan settlement. From their traditions it appeared that they were not a newly created people; they had escaped in some way from the alien gods, and were for these reasons regarded as dĭnéʻ dĭgíni, or holy people. They were divided into two gentes, Tháʻtsini and Kaídĭneʻ, or Willow People, and for a while they formed two gentes among the Navahoes; but in these days all traces of this division have been lost, and all their descendants are now called, without distinction, sometimes Tháʻtsini and sometimes Kai or Kaídĭneʻ.

406. Before this time the Navahoes had been a weak and peaceable tribe; but now they found themselves becoming a numerous [146]people and they began to talk of going to war. Of late years they had heard much of the great pueblos along the Rio Grande, but how their people had saved themselves from the anáye the Navahoes did not know. A man named Napaílĭnta got up a war party and made a raid on a pueblo named Kĭnlĭtsí (Red House), and returned with some captives, among whom was a girl captured by Napaílĭnta. From her is descended the gens of Kĭnlĭtsí, whose members are now close relations to Tsĭnadzĭ′ni (the gens of Napaílĭnta), and cannot intermarry with the latter.

407. The captives from Kĭnlĭtsí were, at first, slaves among the Navahoes;187 but their descendants became free and increased greatly, and from them came another gens, Tlĭziláni, Many Goats, also closely related to Tsĭnadzĭ′ni.

408. Next in order came a band of Apaches from the south representing two gentes,—Dĕstsíni (Red Streak People), and Tlastsíni (Red Flat Ground People). These were adopted by the Navahoes as two separate gentes and became close relations to the Tsĭnadzĭ′ni.

409. Not long after the arrival of these Apaches some Utes came into the neighborhood of the Navahoes, camping at a place called Tséʻdiʻyikáni (a ridge or promontory projecting into the river), not far from Hyíĕtyĭn. They had good arms of all kinds, and two varieties of shields,—one round and one with a crescentic cut in the top. They lived for a while by themselves, and were at first unruly and impertinent; but in the course of time they merged into the Navahoes, forming the gens of Notá or Notádĭneʻ, Ute People.

410. About the time they were incorporated by the Navahoes, or soon after, a war party of the Utes made a raid on a Mexican settlement, somewhere near where Socorro now is, and captured a Spanish woman. She was their slave; but her descendants became free among the Navahoes and formed the Nakaídĭneʻ (White Stranger People), or Mexican gens, who cannot now intermarry with Notádĭneʻ.

411. Góntso, or Big Knee, chief of the Tháʻpaha, was still alive and was a famous old man; but he had become feeble and had many ailments. There was a great ceremony practised in those days called natsĭ′d, which lasted all winter,184 from harvest-time to planting-time; but the Navahoes have long ceased to celebrate it. This ceremony was held one winter for the benefit of Big Knee at the sacred place of Toʻyĕ′tli, the home of the War Gods. One night, while the rites were being performed, some strangers joined the Navahoes coming from the direction of the river. Adopted by the Navahoes, they formed the gens of Toʻyĕtlíni, and became closely allied to Notádĭneʻ and Nakaídĭneʻ.

412. On another occasion during the same winter some Apaches [147]came from their country in the south to witness the ceremony of natsĭ′d. Among the women of the Tháʻpaha was one who visited the Apache camp and remained all night there. She became attached to an Apache youth, with whom she secretly absconded when the visitors left. For a long time her people did not know what had become of her; but many years after, learning where she was, some of her relations went to the Apache country to persuade her to return. She came back an old woman, bringing her husband and a family of three girls. The girls were handsome, had light skins and fair hair. Their grandmother, who admired them very much, insisted that a new gens should be made of them. So they were called Háltso, Yellow Bodies,188 and originated the gens of that name. Their father died an old man among the Navahoes.

413. On another night of the same winter, while the ceremony for Big Knee was going on, two strange men, speaking the Navaho language, entered the camp. They said they were the advanced couriers of a multitude of wanderers who had left the shores of the great waters in the west to join the Navahoes. You shall now hear the story of the people who came from the western ocean:—

414. Surrounding Estsánatlehi’s home were four mountains, located like those at the Place of Emergence—one in the east, one in the south, one in the west, and one in the north. She was in the habit of dancing on these mountains,—on the mountain in the east to bring clouds; on the mountain in the south, to bring all kinds of goods,—jewels, clothing, etc.; on the mountain in the west, to bring plants of all kinds; and on the mountain in the north, to bring corn and animals. On these journeys for dancing she passed from the east mountain to the south, the west, and the north mountain, the way the sun goes; and when she was done dancing on the north mountain she retraced her course (without crossing it) to the east; but she never completed the circle, i.e., she never passed from the north directly to the east. Over the space between the north and the east mountains she never travelled. This is the way her trail lay:— [148]

Fig. 33. Trail of Estsánatlehi.

415. Estsánatlehi had not been long in her western home when she began to feel lonely. She had no companions there. The people who had accompanied her thither did not stay with her. She thought she might make people to keep her company, so one day, when she had completed one of her dancing journeys, she sat down on the eastern mountain. Here she rubbed epidermis from under her left arm with her right hand; she held this in her palm and it changed into four persons,—two men and two women,—from whom descended a gens to which no name was then given, but which afterwards (as will be told) received the name of Honagáʻni. She rubbed the epidermis with her left hand from under her right arm, held it in her palm as before, and it became two men and two women, from whom descended the gens afterwards known as Kinaáʻni. In a similar way, of epidermis rubbed from under her left breast she created four people, from whom descended the gens later known as Toʻdĭtsíni; of epidermis from under her right breast, four persons, from whom descended the gens called Bĭtáni; of epidermis from the middle of her chest, the four whose descendants were called Haslĭ′zni; and of epidermis from her back between her shoulders, the four whose descendants were called Bĭtáʻni in later times. [149]

416. She said to these: “I wish you to dwell near me, where I can always see you; but if you choose to go to the east, where your kindred dwell, you may go.” She took them from her floating home to the mainland; here they lived for thirty years, during which time they married and had many children. At the end of this time the Twelve People (Dĭnéʻ Nakidáta), or rather what was left of them, appeared among Estsánatlehi’s people and said to them: “We have lost our sister who kept our house for us; we have no home; we know not where else to go; so we have come here to behold our mother, our grandmother. You have kindred in the far east who have increased until they are now a great people. We do not visit them, but we stand on the mountains and look at them from afar. We know they would welcome you if you went to them.” And many more things they told about the people in the far east.

417. Now all crossed on a bridge of rainbow to the house of Estsánatlehi on the sea, where she welcomed them and embraced them. Of the Dĭnéʻ Nakidáta but ten were left, for, as has been told, they lost their sister and their younger brother; but when they came to the home of Estsánatlehi she made for them two more people out of turquoise, and this completed their original number of twelve. She knew with what thoughts her children had come. She opened four doors leading from the central chamber of her house into four other rooms, and showed them her various treasures, saying: “Stay with me always, my children; these things shall be yours, and we shall be always happy together.”

418. When the people went back from the house of Estsánatlehi to the mainland, all was gossip and excitement in their camp about what they had heard of the people in the east. Each one had a different part or version of the tale to tell,—of how the people in the east lived, of what they ate, of the way in which they were divided into gentes, of how the gentes were named, and of other things about them they had heard. “The people are few where we live,” they said; “we would be better off where there are so many.” They talked thus for twelve days. At the end of that time they concluded to depart, and they fixed the fourteenth day after that as the day they should leave.

419. Before they left, the Dĭnéʻ Nakidáta and Estsánatlehi came to see them. She said: “It is a long and dangerous journey to where you are going. It is well that you should be cared for and protected on the way. I shall give you five of my pets,189—a bear, a great snake, a deer, a porcupine, and a puma,—to watch over you. They will not desert you. Speak of no evil deeds in the presence of the bear or the snake, for they may do the evil they hear you speak of; but the deer and the porcupine are good,—say whatever you please to say in their presence.” [150]

420. Besides these pets she gave them five magic wands. To those who were afterwards named Honagáʻni she gave a wand of turquoise; to those who later were called Kinaáʻni, a wand of white shell; to those who became Toʻdĭtsíni, a wand of haliotis shell; to those who became Bĭtáʻni, a wand of black stone; and to those who in later days became Haslĭ′zni, a wand of red stone. “I give you these for your protection,” she said, “but I shall watch over you myself while you are on your journey.”

421. On the appointed day they set out on their journey. On the twelfth day of their march they crossed a high ridge and came in sight of a great treeless plain, in the centre of which they observed some dark objects in motion. They could not determine what they were, but suspected they were men. They continued their journey, but did not directly approach the dark objects; they moved among the foothills that surrounded the plain, and kept under cover of the timber. As they went along they discerned the dark objects more plainly, and discovered that these were indeed human beings. They got among the foothills to one side of where the strangers were, and camped in the woods at night.

422. In spite of all the precautions taken by the travellers, they had been observed by the people of the plain, and at night two of the latter visited their camp. The visitors said they were Kĭltsói, or Kĭltsóidĭneʻ (People of the Bigelovia graveolens); that their tribe was numerous; that the plain in which they dwelt was extensive; and that they had watermelons getting ripe, with corn and other food, in their gardens. The people of the west concluded to remain here a while. The second night they had two more visitors, one of whom became enamored of a maiden among the wanderers, and asked for her in marriage. Her people refused him at first; but when he came the second night and begged for her again, they gave her to him. He stayed with her in the camp of her people as long as they remained in the valley, except the last two nights, when she went and stayed with his people. These gave an abundance of the produce of their fields to the wanderers, and the latter fared well. When the travellers were prepared to move, they implored the young husband to go with them, while he begged to have his wife remain with him in the valley. They argued long; but in the end the woman’s relations prevailed, and the Kĭltsói man joined them on their journey. In the mean time four other men of Kĭltsói had fallen in love with maidens of the wanderers, and asked for them in marriage. The migrating band refused to leave the girls behind, so the enamored young men left their kindred and joined the travellers. The Kĭltsói tried to persuade the others to dwell in their land forever, but without avail. [151]

423. They broke camp at last early in the morning, and travelled all day. At night a great wind arose, and the bear would not rest, but ran around the camp all night, uneasy and watchful. The men looked out and saw some of the Kĭltsói trying to approach; but the bear warded them off and they disappeared without doing harm. In the morning it was found that the men of the Kĭltsói who had joined them on their journey had now deserted them, and it was supposed that in some way they were in league with their brethren outside.

424. The second day they journeyed far, and did not make camp until after dark. As on the previous night, the bear was awake, watchful, and uneasy all night. They supposed he was still looking out for lurking Kĭltsói. Not until daybreak did he lie down and take a little sleep while the people were preparing for the day’s march.

425. On the third night the bear was again wakeful and on guard, and only lay down in the morning while the people were breaking camp. “My pet, why are you troubled thus every night?” said one of the men to the bear. The latter only grunted in reply, and made a motion with his nose in the direction whence they had come.

426. On the fourth night they camped, for mutual protection, closer together than they had camped before. The bear sat on a neighboring hill, from which he could watch the sleepers, but slept not himself all night. As before, he took a short sleep in the morning. Before the people set out on their march some one said: “Let us look around and see if we can find what has troubled our pet.” They sent two couriers to the east and two to the west. The former returned, having found nothing. The latter said they had seen strange footprints, as of people who had approached the camp and then gone back far to the west. Their pursuers, they thought, had returned to their homes.

427. They had now been four days without finding water, and the children were crying with thirst. On the fifth day’s march they halted at noon and held a council. “How shall we procure water?” said one. “Let us try the power of our magic wands,” said another. A man of the gens who owned the wand of turquoise stuck this wand into the ground, and worked it back and forth and round and round to make a good-sized hole. Water sprang from the hole. A woman of another gens crouched down to taste it. “It is bitter water,” she cried. “Let that, then, be your name and the name of your people,” said those who heard her; thus did the gens of Toʻdĭtsíni, Bitter Water People, receive its name.

428. When the people had cooked and eaten food and drunk their fill of the bitter water, they said: “Let us try to reach yonder mountain [152]before night.” So they pushed on to a distant mountain they had beheld in the east. When they got near the mountain they saw moccasin tracks, and knew there must be some other people at hand. At one place, near the base of the mountain, they observed a cluster of cottonwood trees, and, thinking there might be a spring there, they went straight to the cottonwood. Suddenly they found themselves among a strange people who were dwelling around a spring. The strangers greeted the wanderers in a friendly manner, embraced them, and asked them whence they came. The wanderers told their story briefly, and the strangers said: “We were created at this spring and have always lived here. It is called Maitóʻ, Coyote Water (Coyote Spring), and we are the Maídĭneʻ” (Coyote People). The Navahoes called them Maitóʻdĭneʻ.

429. The travellers tarried four days at the Coyote Spring, during which time they talked much to their new friends, and at length persuaded the latter to join them on their eastern journey. Before they started, the Coyote People declared that their spring was the only water in the neighborhood; that they knew of no other water within two days’ journey in any direction. On the morning of the fifth day they all moved off toward the east. They travelled all day, and made a dry camp at night. The next day at noon they halted on their way, and decided to try again the power of a magic wand. This time the white shell was used by a member of the gens to whom it had been given, in the same way that the turquoise wand was used before. Water sprang up. A woman of another gens said: “It is muddy; it may make the children sick.” “Let your people then be named Haslĭ′zni, Mud People,” cried voices in the crowd. Thus the gens of Haslĭ′z, or Haslĭ′zni, was named.

430. The second night after leaving Coyote Spring, darkness overtook the wanderers at a place where there was no water, and they rested there for the night. At noon on the following day all were thirsty, and the children were crying. The people halted, and proposed to try again the efficacy of a sacred wand. The wand of haliotis was used this time. When the water sprang up, a woman of the Coyote People stooped first and drank. “It is Toʻdokónz, alkaline (or sapid) water,” she exclaimed. To her and her children the name Toʻdokónzi was then given, and from them the present gens of that name is descended. Its members may not marry with Maitóʻdĭneʻ, to whom they are related.

431. On the night after they found the alkaline water, they encamped once more at a place where no water was to be found, and on the following day great were their sufferings from thirst. At midday they rested, and begged the bearers of the black stone wand to try the power of their magic implement. A stream of fine, clear [153]water sprang up when the wand was stuck in the ground. They filled their vessels and all drank heartily, except a boy and a girl of the gens that bore the black stone wand. “Why do you not come and drink before the water is all gone?” some one asked. The children made no reply, but stood and looked at the water. The girl had her arms folded under her dress. They gave then to her and to her gens the name of Bĭtáʻni,190 which signifies the arms under the dress.

432. The night after the Bĭtáʻni was named, the travellers slept once more at a place where no water was to be found, and next day they were very thirsty on their journey. In the middle of the day they stopped, and the power of the red stone wand was tried. It brought forth water from the ground, as the other wands had done, and all drank till they were satisfied; but no member of the gentes still unnamed said anything and no name was given.

433. After this they camped two nights without water. On the second noon they arrived at a spring in a canyon known to the Maídĭneʻ and called by them Halkaítoʻ, Water of the White Valley. They journeyed no farther that day, but camped by the water all night.

434. From Halkaítoʻ they travelled steadily for twenty-five days, until they came to a little river near San Francisco Mountain, and west of it. During this part of the journey they found sufficient water for their needs every day. They stopped at this river five nights and five days and hunted. Here one man, and one only,—whose name was Baĭnilĭ′ni (Looks on at a Battle),—killed a deer, a large one, which he cut into small pieces and distributed around so that every one might get a taste.

435. From the banks of this stream they came to the east side of San Francisco Mountain, to where, beside a little peak, there is a spring that has no name. Here the travellers stopped several days, and built around their camp a stone wall that still stands.

436. The puma belonged to the gens that bore the black stone wand, and that was afterwards called Kinaáʻni. While the people were camped at this spring he killed a deer. The bear sometimes killed rabbits. The snake and the porcupine were of no use, but were a trouble instead, since they had to be carried along. The deer ran among the crowd and did neither good nor harm. The people lived mostly on rabbits and other small animals and the seeds of wild plants.

437. From the spring near San Francisco Mountain they travelled to Bĭtáhotsi (Red Place on Top),191 and from there to Tséʻzĭntsĭdĭlya. Here they held a council about the big snake. He was of no use to them, and a great encumbrance. They turned him loose among the [154]rocks, and his descendants are there in great numbers to this day. At Natsĭsaán (Navaho Mountain) they turned the porcupine loose, and that is why there are so many porcupines on the Navaho Mountain now.

438. They next went to the place now called Agála,192 or Agálani, Much Wool, or Hair, and were now in the land of the Ozaí (Oraibes). They camped all around the peak of Agála and went out hunting. Some who wore deer-masks for decoys, and went to get deer, succeeded in killing a great number. They dressed many skins, and the wind blew the hair from the skins up in a great pile. Seeing this, one of the Honagáʻni proposed that the place be called Agála, so this name was given to it.

439. From Agála the wanderers went to Tseʻhotsóbiazi, Little Place of Yellow Rocks, and from there to Yótso, Big Bead. On the way they camped often, and sometimes tarried a day or two to hunt. It was now late in the autumn. At Yótso they saw moccasin tracks, evidently not fresh, and they said to one another: “Perhaps these are the footprints of the people whom we seek.” Now there were diverse counsels among the immigrants. Some were in haste to reach the end of the journey, while others, as the season was late, thought it prudent to remain where they were. Thus they became divided into two parties, one of which remained at Yótso, while the other (containing parts of several gentes) continued the journey. Soon after the latter was gone, those who remained at Yótso sent two messengers, and later they sent two more, to induce the seceders to return; but the latter were never overtaken. The couriers came to a place where the runaways had divided into two bands. From one of these the Jicarilla Apaches are supposed to have descended. The other band, it is thought, wandered far off and became part of the Dĭnéʻ Nahotlóni.193

440. The last two messengers sent out pursued one of the fugitive bands some distance, gave up the task, and returned to Yótso. The messengers sent first pursued the other band. After a while they saw its camp-fires; but at such a great distance that they despaired of overtaking it and turned toward the San Juan River, where they found at length the long-sought Navahoes. These two messengers were the men, of whom you have heard before, who entered the camp of Big Knee at Toʻyĕ′tli while the dance of natsĭ′d was going on, and announced the approach of the immigrants from the west. (See par. 143.)

441. When spring-time came, the people who had remained at Yótso set out again on their journey; but before long some of the Toʻdĭtsíni got tired. They said that the children’s knees were swollen, that their feet were blistered, and that they could not go [155]much farther. Soon after they said this they came to a place where a great lone tree stood, and here they declared: “We shall stop at this tree. After a while the people will come here and find us.” They remained and became the gens of Tsĭnsakádni, People of the (Lone) Tree, who are closely related to Toʻdĭtsíni and cannot marry with the latter.

442. At Pĭnbĭtóʻ, Deer Spring, some more of the gens of Toʻdĭtsíni halted, because, they said, their children were lame from walking and could travel no farther. Here they formed a new gens of Pinbĭtóʻdĭneʻ, People of Deer Spring,194 who are also closely related to Toʻdĭtsíni. At this place they wanted their pet deer to leave them, but he would not go; he remained at the spring with the people who stayed there. What finally became of him is not known.195

443. The main body of the immigrants kept on their way, and, soon after passing Deer Spring, arrived at Hyíĕtyĭn, where the people of Tháʻpaha had their farms. Big Knee was still alive when they came; but he was very old and feeble, and was not respected and obeyed as in former days. When Tháʻpaha and Haslĭ′zni met, they traced some relationship between the two gentes: their names had much the same meaning; their headdresses and accoutrements were alike; so the Haslĭ′zni stopped with Tháʻpaha and became great friends with the latter. Yet to-day a member of one of these gentes may marry a member of the other.

444. The bear was the last of their five pets which the immigrants retained. When they were done their journey they said to him: “Our pet, you have served us well; but we are now safe among our friends and we need your services no more. If you wish you may leave us. There are others of your kind in Tsúskai (the Chusca Mountains). Go there and play with them.” They turned him loose in Tsúskai, and bears have been numerous there ever since.

445. Of the people from the west, there was yet one gens—that to which Estsánatlehi had given the wand of turquoise—which had no name. This nameless people did not stay long on the banks of the San Juan before they wandered off far toward the south. One day two men of the party, while hunting, came to a place called Tséʻnahapĭl, where there were high overhanging rocks. Here they saw the fresh prints of unshod human feet. They followed these tracks but a short distance when they beheld a man watching them from a rocky pinnacle. As soon as he saw that he was observed, he crouched and disappeared. They ran quickly behind the rock on which they had seen him and again observed him, running as fast as he could. “Why do you fly from us?” they shouted. “We mean no harm to you.” Hearing this he stopped till they came up [156]to him. Then they found he spoke the same language they did, and they addressed him in terms of relationship. “Where do you live?” they asked. “In a canyon high on the mountain,” he replied. “What do you live on?” they queried. “We live mostly on seeds,” he answered; “but sometimes we catch wood-rats, and we raise small crops.” “We shall have many things to tell one another,” said the hunters; “but your home is too far for our people to reach to-day. Tell your people to come to this spot, and we shall tell ours to come up here and meet them.” When the hunters got home they found their friends cooking rabbits and making mush of wild seeds. When the meal was finished all climbed the mountain to the appointed place and found the strangers awaiting them. The two parties camped together that night and related to one another their histories and adventures. The strangers said that they had been created at the place where they were all then camped only seven years previously; that they were living not far off at a place called Natanbĭlhátĭn, but that they came often to their natal place to pick cactus fruit and yucca fruit. They said they called themselves Tséʻdĭneʻ, or Rock People; but the nameless ones gave them the name of Tseʻnahapĭ′lni, Overhanging Rocks People, from the place where they met. With this name they became a gens of the Navahoes.

446. The Tseʻnahapĭ′lni told their new friends that they had some corn and pumpkins cached at a distance, and they proposed to open their stores and get ready for a journey. They knew of some Apaches to the south, whom they would all visit together. These Apaches, they said, had some gentes of the same names as those of the Navahoes. Then they all went to where the provisions were stored, and they made corn-cakes to use on the journey. When they were ready they went to the south and found, at a place called Tsóhanaa, the Apaches, who recognized them as friends, and treated their visitors so well that the latter concluded to remain for a while.

447. At the end of three years the Tseʻnahapĭ′lni went off to join the Navahoes on the San Juan. The nameless people stayed four years longer. About the end of that time they began to talk of leaving, and their Apache friends tried to persuade them to remain, but without avail. When they had all their goods packed and were ready to start, an old woman was observed walking around them. She walked around the whole band, coming back to the place from which she started; then she turned towards them and said: “You came among us without a name, and you have dwelt among us, nameless, for seven years; no one knew what to call you; but you shall not leave us without a name. I have walked around you, and I call you Honagáʻni (Walked-around People).”196 [157]

448. When the Honagáʻni got back to the San Juan they found that the Tseʻnahapĭ′lni had been long settled there and had become closely related to Tlastsíni, Dĕstsíni, Kĭnlĭtsíni, and Tsĭnadzĭ′ni. The Honagáʻni in time formed close relationships with Thaʻnĕzáʻni, Dsĭltláʻni, Tóʻhani, and Nahopáni. These five gentes are now all the same as one gens, and no member of one may marry a member of another.

449. It happened about this time, while some of the Tháʻpaha were sojourning at Agála, that they sent two children, one night, to a spring to get water. The children carried out with them two wicker bottles, but returned with four. “Where did you get these other bottles?” the parents inquired. “We took them away from two little girls whom we met at the spring,” answered the children. “Why did you do this, and who are the girls?” said the elders. “We do not know. They are strangers,” said the little ones. The parents at once set out for the spring to find the strange children and restore the stolen bottles to them; but on their way they met the little girls coming toward the Tháʻpaha camp, and asked them who they were. The strange children replied: “We belong to a band of wanderers who are encamped on yonder mountain. They sent us two together to find water.” “Then we shall give you a name,” said the Tháʻpaha; “we shall call you Toʻbaznaázi,” Two Come Together for Water. The Tháʻpaha brought the little girls to their hut and bade them be seated. “Stay with us,” they said. “You are too weak and little to carry the water so far. We will send some of our young men to carry it for you.” When the young men found the camp of the strangers they invited the latter to visit them. The Tháʻpaha welcomed the new-comers as friends, and told them they had already a name for them, Toʻbaznaázi. Under this name they became united to the Navahoes as a new gens, and they are now closely affiliated with Tháʻpaha.197

450. Shortly after the coming of Toʻbaznaázi, the Navahoes were joined by a band of Apaches, who were adopted by Tháʻpaha and not formed into a new gens. About the same time a band of Pah Utes came and were likewise adopted by Tháʻpaha. A little later some more Apaches arrived and became a part of Tháʻpaha; but, although no distinct name is now given them, their descendants are known among the Tháʻpaha as a people of different origin from the others.

451. Another party of Apaches, who came afterwards, dwelt a long time among the Toʻdokózi; but later they abode with the Tháʻpaha, and became closely related to the latter. They are still affiliated with Tháʻpaha, but these call them Toʻdokózi. [158]

452. Some years passed before the next accession was made. This was another party of Zuñi Indians, and they were admitted into the gens of the Tháʻpaha. Soon after them came the Zuñi People, who were at last formed into a separate gens,—that of Nanastĕ′zin. This is the Navaho name for all the Zuñians, and means Black Horizontal Stripe Aliens.198 All these people deserted the Zuñi villages on account of scarcity of food.

453. A new people, with painted faces, came from the west about the same time as those who formed the gens of Zuñi, or a little later. They are supposed to have been a part of the tribe now called Mohaves on the banks of the Colorado. They bore the name of Dildzéhi, and their descendants now form a gens of that name among the Navahoes. At first they affiliated with Nanastĕ′zin; but to-day they are better friends with Tháʻtsini than with Nanastĕ′zin.

454. A war-party, consisting of members of different gentes, was now organized among the Navahoes to attack a pueblo called Saíbehogan, House Made of Sand. At that place they captured two girls and brought them home as slaves. There was a salt lake near their old home, and the girls belonged to a gens of Salt People there. So their numerous descendants now among the Navahoes form the gens of Ásihi, or Salt. The captives were taken by members of the Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni, hence Ásihi and Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni are now affiliated.

455. Then a war party was gotten up to attack the people of Jemez pueblo. On this raid one of the Tlastsíni captured a Jemez girl, but sold her to one of the Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni. She was the progenitor of the gens of Maidĕskĭ′zni, People of Wolf Pass (i.e., Jemez), which is now affiliated with Tseʻdzĭnkĭ′ni.

456. After the Navahoes attacked Saíbehogan there was a famine there, and some of the people abandoned their homes and joined the Navahoes. They said that in their pueblo there was a gens of Tháʻpaha, and hearing there was such a gens among the Navahoes they came to join it. Therefore they sought Tháʻpaha till they found it and became a part of it.

457. There came once a party of seven people from a place called Tseʻyanatóʻni, Horizontal Water under Cliffs, to pay a short visit to the Navahoes; but from time to time they delayed their departure, and at last stayed forever with the Navahoes. They formed the gens of Tseʻyanatóʻni, which is now extinct.

458. The people whom Estsánatlehi created from the skin under her right arm, and to whom she gave the wand of white shell, was called, after they came among the Navahoes, Kinaáʻni, High Stone House People; not because they built or dwelt in such a house, but because they lived near one.199 [159]

459. When the Bĭtáʻni were encamped at a place called Tóʻtso, or Big Water, near the Carrizo Mountains, a man and a woman came up out of the water and joined them. From this pair is descended the gens of Tóʻtsoni, People of the Big Water, which is affiliated with Bĭtáʻni. [160]