AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS

by Richard Erdoes

  The crowd declared the young man to be the new village champion. He went to the home of his defeated rival to claim the spoils of war, which included two wives, furs—all the luxurious possessions of a rich man.

  —Based on F. A. Golder’s account of 1900.

  [PONCA-OTOE]

  When Coyote was roaming around for adventures, looking for great deeds to do, someone told him of an evil sorceress, an old woman who lived with her two wicked daughters. Many young men went there to sleep with the daughters, who were very handsome, but none was ever seen alive again.

  Coyote said, “That’s just the place I want to go.”

  “Be careful,” said the person who had told him about it. “Whatever you do, don’t sleep with these girls. It would kill you, or so I’ve been told.”

  “How could sleeping with two pretty women kill a man?” thought Coyote, and off he went.

  The old woman was very nice to him when he arrived, her two daughters were very beautiful. “Come in, come in, the mother said. “You’re a good-looking young man, just the kind of person I’d like to have for a son-in-law,”

  Coyote went into the tipi with his bow and quiver. “Sit down, sit down,” the old woman said. “You’ll get something good to eat. My daughters will serve you.”

  The girls brought Coyote many good dishes—buffalo hump, tongues, all kinds of meat. One of the daughters, the older one, said: “You sure are handsome.” Coyote thought to himself: “My informant was wrong; these are good people.”

  By nightfall, Coyote was full of good food and getting drowsy. “You must be tired after your journey,” the old woman said. “And it’s cold outside. Lie down to sleep between my two daughters—they’ll keep you warm.”

  Coyote snuggled between the two girls. He felt amorous, but he wondered. In the dark the face of the younger girl brushed his; she was whispering in his ear: “Pretty soon my sister will ask you to sleep with her. I’m supposed to ask you too, but you mustn’t do it.”

  “Why not?” asked Coyote.

  “The old woman is a witch,” said the girl. “She’s not really my mother; I’m her prisoner, though the other girl is her daughter. This witch has put teeth into both our vaginas, and when a man comes to visit she gets him to copulate with us. Then these teeth take hold of his penis and chew it to bits. Once he puts it in, he can’t pull it out no matter how hard he tries. You should hear those poor young men cry; they cry until they die.”

  “Why do you tell me this?”

  “I like you and I hate doing the old woman’s dirty work. After the poor young men are dead, she takes all their things. She likes robbing them, but she likes hearing them die even better.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then listen. Do you hear the noise?”

  “Yes, I do hear it, a strange noise.”

  “It’s the grinding of the sharp teeth inside our vaginas.”

  Coyote heard the grinding. He believed what the girl said.

  Coyote and the girl pretended to sleep. After a while the older girl, the old woman’s daughter, pulled at his sleeve. “Strong young man,” she whispered, “you must be hot for us. Let me make you happy. Get on top of me. Quick, get into me;” Coyote could hear the teeth gnashing furiously inside her vagina.

  “I’ve been thinking of nothing else since I first saw you, pretty one,” said Coyote, “but let me get my clothes off.”

  “Hurry up,” said the impatient girl. “Don’t dawdle. Put it in!”

  Coyote took hold of a thick, long stick still warm from the fire, and stuck it deep into that wicked girl’s vagina.

  “Oh, a real man at last,” said the girl, “how good it feels. A real big one for a change!” The teeth inside her were chewing, and wood splinters were flying out of her all over Coyote. “Whew!” he thought. “This is really something!” Quickly he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and thrust it deep into the girl before the teeth could snap shut. The teeth closed upon the shaft near the feathers, but it was too late: the arrowhead had already reached the evil girl’s heart, and she died.

  Then Coyote went over to the old woman and killed her with his knife. He told the younger girl: “You’ve saved my life, so come with me and I’ll marry you.”

  “How can you?” said the girl. “I’d like to be your wife, but I have these teeth in the wrong place.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Coyote told her, “so come on.”

  They started off for Coyote’s house and walked all one day. When evening came, Coyote build a brush shelter for the two of them. He put sage into it for a bed. “Now I’m going to make love to you,” he said.

  “No, never!” said the girl. “It would kill you.”

  “Well, of course, first I have to knock your teeth out,” said Coyote. “And not the ones in your head!”

  So he knocked out the teeth in the girl’s vagina—except for one blunt tooth that was very thrilling when making love. They were happy, Coyote and this girl.

  —Told in New York City by a pixyish old lady who would like to remain anonymous.

  Recorded by Richard Erdoes.

  [TEWA]

  Once upon a time in the village of Cu-oh-chi-tae lived an untidy old man and an untidy old lady. Also living with them were their grandson Tiny Flower, his wife White Corn, and the young couple’s baby girl.

  The cold weather was coming on. To prepare for the winter Tiny Flower went to the mountains every day and hunted deer. One morning soon after he had left the house, White Corn picked up her water jar and took it to Green Willow Lake. There she filled the jar. And as she leaned over the water, she spotted a magic stick under the surface and pulled it out.

  This stick belonged to the governor of the Yellow Kachina people. He was a personage with great powers, whose duty it was to make rain, thunder, and clouds every day in the four directions. Although the governor lived far from the lake, his power was such that he had been able to watch White Corn from his home. Seeing how beautiful she was, he had used his magic stick to fly to her.

  Now he jumped out from behind a bush and cried, “You can’t take that stick! It belongs to me.”

  Laughing, White Corn darted away, and the governor chased her around and around the lake. She enjoyed being run after by the handsome stranger, while the governor was wishing that he could have the beautiful woman for his wife. Out of breath, White Corn finally came to a stop and handed him his stick.

  “Lady White Corn, may I have some of your water?”

  White Corn offered him her filled jar, and he drank some and gave it back. “If a person drinks from the jar and doesn’t finish it all,” said White Corn, “the custom is to pour water on him.”

  Now it was the governor who darted away and White Corn who chased him. But he didn’t run very fast, and he enjoyed having her splash him with water.

  “Lady White Corn, wouldn’t you like to go to my place?”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Not far. I live at the top of Flint-Covered Mountain.”

  “Yes! I’ll go with you.” White Corn emptied her water jar and placed it upside down at the edge of the lake.

  Both the governor and White Corn sat on the magic stick, and in moments they reached the top of Flint-Covered Mountain. On the rooftop of the governor’s house was a ladder made of cedarwood. The two climbed down the ladder into the house.

  At once the governor said, “Lady White Corn, this is my home, and now it’s yours too!” White Corn had been tricked. Like it or not, she had to stay with the governor.

  When Tiny Flower returned home and found that his wife had gone, he dropped everything he was carrying and hurried to his grandparents. “My son,” said his grandfather, “we found her jar turned upside down at the lake. We have looked and asked all over, but no one has seen her.”

  Tiny Flower searched again for his wife and visited almost every home in the village, but he learned nothing. The baby cried and cried. The grandparents had been taking her to be fed by nursi
ng mothers in the village, but still she cried day and night. The best that the old couple and Tiny Flower could do was carry her back and forth, back and forth, trying to soothe her.

  Days passed, and Tiny Flower grew sadder and sadder. He lay on the rooftop and grieved. Even his arrow bag made of mountain-lion skin lay empty on the floor where he had dropped it the first night he returned.

  “You must go to Grandmother Spider,” his grandfather said at last. “She will know where White Corn is, because she can spin her web into all parts of the earth.”

  Carrying gifts, including a little bag of blue cornmeal, Tiny Flower set out to visit Grandmother Spider. He reached her house after many days of walking. “Grandmother, this is a home of reverence, a home of respect, and I have entered it humbly,” he said after she had invited him in. “My heart is heavy, sad thoughts disturb my mind, and with your permission I would like to tell you of my troubles.” And he spoke of his missing wife and crying baby.

  “My son,” said Grandmother Spider, “your wife is at the top of Flint-Covered Mountain, where the governor of the Yellow Kachina people took her.”

  “I must get her,” he said.

  “First go home, cleanse yourself with holy water, and fill your bag with arrows,” she said. “Then return to me and I will give you instructions and some of my medicine.”

  Tiny Flower traveled quickly and reached home in four days. He cleansed himself carefully and rose the next morning before the sun was up. After offering blue cornmeal to the Great Spirit, he started out again. In three days he arrived at Grandmother Spider’s.

  “My son, take this pipe, this bag of tobacco, and this medicine stick,” she said. “Just before you reach the governor’s house, bite a piece off the medicine stick, mix it with your saliva, and rub it on your body. Use the pipe and tobacco when the governor challenges you to match his powers. It you win, you can take your wife away, but if you lose, he will keep White Corn.”

  Tiny Flower thanked Grandmother Spider, who blessed him and told him not to be afraid. Then, putting the pipe, the bag of tobacco and the medicine stick in his quiver, he went on his way.

  His journey took several days, for he had to pass Shoo-fan-ne and Dee-Oaa Cwe-ye Mountains. Then he followed the Trail of the Bears, which led to the top of Flint-Covered Mountain.

  Tiny Flower quickly found the governor’s house and saw that smoke was coming out of it. So he climbed to the roof and stamped on it violently.

  Out came White Corn. “Oh, my husband!” she said. “Why are you here? The governor of the Yellow Kachina people is so cruel and so powerful that something awful will happen to you!”

  “Don’t be afraid,” Tiny Flower said. “I’ve come to take you home.”

  “First you must wait for the governor,” replied White Corn. “I belong to him now, and he would be so angry if he found me missing that he would hunt us down and kill us for sure. He has gone to the south to make thunder and rain, but he comes home for dinner at noon.”

  White Corn gave Tiny Flower some cornbread while they waited, and at noon the governor arrived.

  “I smell ashes, I smell ashes!” he said in a loud voice. “White Corn, you’ve fed someone here!”

  “No, no, there’s no one here! Who would dare come?”

  “I know you have someone. Where is he?”

  “Well, someone is here,” White Corn confessed. “It’s my husband; he came to take me home.”

  Angrily the governor asked, “Where is he?”

  “In the next room,” she said in a husky voice.

  “Why doesn’t he come out? Call him.”

  Out came Tiny Flower at that moment.

  “Aha! Look who’s here—Tiny Flower the deer hunter. We shall see which of us is the better man, and the one of us who has more power will keep White Corn.”

  “Poor me; I don’t have any magical powers or know any tricks,” Tiny Flower replied, “but I must do what you say.”

  The governor pointed to the center of the room. “Sit on top of this flagstone,” he said, and Tiny Flower did as he was told.

  “White Corn, stand beside me.” And White Corn moved to the governor’s side.

  The governor prepared a pipe, lit it, and gave it to Tiny Flower. “Here; smoke this.”

  Puff, puff, puff, puff, went the smoke as Tiny Flower pulled on the pipe. Soon he began to feel dizzy. He swayed back and forth and to the sides; swayed to the right, then to the left. But he did not fall over.

  “You must know something! You must know something!” cried the governor.

  “I know nothing. I don’t live by the night; poor me, the things I do are done in the daytime. So how could I know the things of the spirits?”

  Seeing that the tobacco had not worked, the governor began to sing. White Corn joined in, and together they sang:

  Aaa, aaa, ya ma; a-ya-ma, a-ya-ma,

  Aaa, aaa, ya ma; a-ya-ma.

  Tiny Flower man, if you are a man,

  Your beloved wife you can take

  With you, with you.

  If you are not a man, here, this

  Lightning you can take with you.

  And the governor of the Yellow Kachina struck at Tiny Flower with a bolt of lightning. However, it just missed him. Four times the governor and White Corn sang, and four times the bolt of lightning missed Tiny Flower. The governor had failed. Now it was up to Tiny Flower to test the powers that Grandmother Spider had given him.

  Tiny Flower said, “It’s your turn to sit on the stone.” As the governor seated himself, Tiny Flower told White Corn to tighten her belt and the laces of her moccasins. Then he prepared the tiny pipe that he had from Grandmother Spider and told the governor to smoke it.

  “Ho, ho, ho! What can this little thing do to me? It’s so small I might swallow the whole thing.” He took one puff and became dizzy. He took three more: puff, puff, puff, and over on the floor rolled the governor.

  Tiny Flower and White Corn sang:

  Aaa, aaa, ya ma; a-ya-ma, a-ya-ma,

  Aaa, aaa, ya ma; a-ya-ma,

  Yellow Kachina governor man,

  If you are a man, my beloved wife

  You can have, you can have.

  If you are not a man, here, this

  Lightning you can take with you.

  And Tiny Flower struck at the governor with a bolt of lightning, which did not miss but split him in two. Four times Tiny Flower and White Corn sang, and four times the governor was hit by lightning.

  Tiny Flower tore the governor’s body into four pieces, then took White Corn by the hand and left the house.

  “Be brave and strong, my wife. I am taking you home.”

  Hand in hand, White Corn and Tiny Flower ran along the top of Flint-Covered Mountain. Soon they came to the Trail of the Bears, which led them down into the valley and back to Grandmother Spider’s house. There they stopped just long enough to thank her and return her medicine. And she told them to hurry, because she knew that the governor was coming back to life.

  Sure enough, in the distance Tiny Flower and White Corn saw a small white cloud. The governor was just beginning to breathe again. It was not long before the sky darkened and thunder and lightning began to play all around White Corn and Tiny Flower as they ran.

  When they passed the river with red water, rain had caught up with them. By the time they reached Yunque, it was falling faster and faster. Tiny Flower urged White Corn to keep running, for they were just a mile away from home.

  The Rio Grande was the next river they crossed, and hail began to fall. All kinds of birds were circling above them, but they kept running. They had only a few hundred yards to go when the hail became so heavy that they could not move.

  Tiny Flower and White Corn lay on the ground, and all the birds that had been following—crows, eagles, hawks, owls, sparrows, and more—swooped down and protected the man and woman with their spread wings. The birds that were on top of this great canopy were struck by hail and became spotted, while the ones underneath, like t
he crows, kept their solid colors. When the rain and hail stopped, Tiny Flower promised the birds that in the next four days he would bring them four deer to eat.

  Then the couple reached home at last. The grandparents and the baby girl rejoiced, and White Corn was so happy that she cried. As the legend goes, it is because of her return that white corn still grows in the village of San Juan.

  —Told at San Juan Pueblo, New Mexico, in the early 1960s and translated from the Tewa by Alfonso Ortiz.

  TOLOWIM WOMAN AND

  BUTTERFLY MAN

  [MAIDU]

  A Tolowim woman went out to gather food. She took her child with her, and while she worked, she stuck the point of the cradleboard in the ground and left the child alone. A large butterfly flew past, and she started after it and chased it for a long time. She would almost catch it, and then just miss. She thought, “Perhaps I can’t run fast enough because of this heavy thing,” and she threw away her deerskin robe. But still she never could quite overtake the creature. Finally she threw away her apron too and hurried on, chasing the butterfly till night came. Then, her child forgotten, she lay down under a tree and went to sleep.

  When she awoke in the morning, she found a man lying beside her. He said, “You have followed me this far; perhaps you would like to follow me always. If so, you must pass through a lot of my people.” Without thinking of her child at all, the woman rose and followed the butterfly man. By and by they came to a large valley, whose southern side was full of butterflies. When the two reached the edge of the valley, the man said, “No one has ever before come through this valley alive. But you’ll be safe if you don’t lose sight of me. Follow closely.”

  They traveled for a long time. “Keep tight hold of me; don’t let go,” the butterfly man said again and again. When they come halfway through the valley, other butterflies swarmed about them in great numbers. They flew every way, all around the couple’s heads and in their faces, for they wanted to get the Tolowim woman for themselves. She watched them for a long time, holding tightly to her new husband. But at last, unable to resist, she let go of him and reached out to seize one of the others. She missed that one and she tried to grab now one, now the other, but always failed, and so she wandered in the valley forever, dazed and lost.