AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS

by Richard Erdoes

  “Let’s see him do it,” the head man said.

  “All right, see for yourself. The first money that comes out is mine, but after that it’s all yours.” Coyote started kicking the burro in the belly, and his money fell out. He gathered it up. “Now it’s yours,” he said. “Tomorrow at the same time, he’ll do it again.” They paid him lots of money, and he went on his way.

  On the following day when the time came, the white men brought the burro out and kicked him. He merely broke wind. They kicked him all day till evening, then said, “We might just as well kill this burro and look inside him.” So they cut him open, but there wasn’t a sign of money inside.

  —Based on a tale reported in 1939 by Grenville Goodwin.

  [BRULE SIOUX]

  Iktome was dissatisfied. He was restless. Looking at his wife, he thought: “This woman has become old. She has become ugly. Her face is wrinkled. Her breasts are sagging. She’s all dried up. It’s no fun sleeping with a woman like that. I must have a young, pretty girl. I must have a young girl soon.”

  His wife was looking at him. She knew him well, and she knew that look on his face. She said to herself: “That no-good husband of mine! He’s thinking of some young, nice-looking winchinchala, not of giving me a little pleasure. I’ll fix him!”

  “Well, I’ll go out now,” said Iktome. “I have things to do.”

  “I bet,” said his wife.

  Iktome was looking for a young girl to seduce. He saw one he liked: young and handsome, with laughing eyes, a laughing mouth, and clear, smooth skin. She wore a fine white doeskin outfit with little bells attached to it, so that she made a pleasing sound when she moved.

  “This is the one,” thought Ikto, “the one I shall sleep with tonight.” He went up to the girl and said, “Pretty young winchinchala, is this your tipi you are standing in front of?”

  The girl just laughed.

  “I have many pretty things I could give you.” The girl just laughed.

  “Tonight after everybody has gone to sleep, I’ll creep into your tipi. You be on the left side of the door.” The girl just laughed.

  “I am a great lover,” boasted Iktome. “You have no idea of the pleasures that await you.”

  The girl just laughed. She did not take Ikto seriously, he was so comical. But Iktome took her laughter for assent.

  “Well, I’ll go now. Tonight I’ll make love to you. Don’t forget—at the left side of the door.”

  From her tipi Iktome’s wife had watched it all. After Ikto was gone, the wife went up to the girl.

  “Winchinchala,” she said, “has that no-good man asked you to sleep with him tonight?”

  “Yes,” said the merry girl and laughed.

  “I knew it. In this tipi here?”

  “Yes, in this tipi.”

  “Where do you sleep?”

  “He told me to sleep on the left side, close by the door.”

  “Winchinchala, let’s you and me change places with each other. Let’s exchange clothes.”

  “What will you give me?” asked the girl.

  “Why, this nice choker of red and blue beads.”

  “And what else?”

  “These fine, big hair strings made of rare dentalium shells.”

  “Oh my, these are pretty! All right, let’s change places tonight.”

  So, the winchinchala put on Ikto’s wife’s clothes and went into his tipi to sleep, while Ikto’s wife took her place. That night after everyone had gone to sleep, Iktome crept into the pretty girl’s tipi. At the left side he heard a woman stir, heard a slight tinkling of bells. He crept over there.

  “Oh pretty girl,” he whispered, “it’s me, your lover Ikto.” There was giggling in the dark.

  “Oh pretty one, how fresh your mouth tastes, not like the mouth of my aged wife.”

  There was more giggling.

  “Ah, how nice it is to fondle a firm young breast, not a sagging one like my wife’s.”

  There was more giggling.

  “Oh, pretty young one! How full of fire you are! How ardently you make love, not just lying there like dead, like my old woman does it.” There was more giggling.

  “Oh, how pleasingly moist, how wet, how juicy this is! Not dry like my wife’s.”

  There was more giggling and squirming.

  “Ah! Aaaah! Oh! Oooooh!”

  More giggling and squirming.

  “Well, this was certainly enjoyable. Oh my! Yes, this was fun. Well, I must go now. Maybe pretty soon we’ll do this again.” There was a last giggle.

  “I wonder whether this winchinchala ever opens her mouth except to giggle,” thought Ikto. He was panting. He went home very slowly because the woman he had slept with had tired him out. By the time he got to his tipi, his wife and the pretty girl had already exchanged places again. They were now where they belonged. Iktome lay down beside his wife and fell asleep. In the morning when he awoke, his wife was already up and about.

  “Old Woman,” he said, “I’m hungry. Give me something good to eat.”

  “I’ll give you something,” said his wife and hit him hard with her turnip digger.

  “Stop! stop! you crazy woman! What are you doing?”

  “So my mouth isn’t fresh!” And she hit him again.

  “Oh, Oh, Oh Have pity on me!”

  “So my skin is wrinkled!” She was beating him all over.

  “Oh! oh! oh! Don’t do that. It hurts, stop!”

  “So my breasts are sagging!” The blows were coming thick and fast. “Oh! oh! you’re killing me!”

  “So I’m not a hot one, you say. I just lie there like dead!” and she hit him a real good one. “Oh, you’re killing me!”

  “So I’m all dried up. I’m not pleasingly moist!” She was hitting Iktome harder than ever.

  “Have pity! I’ll never sleep with anyone but you!”

  “Liar,” she said and kept on whacking him.

  Iktome managed at last to crawl out of the tipi and get away from her. He was running, afraid his wife would catch up with him. A long way off he stopped, hurting so much all over that he could hardly move. His mind was hurt, too.

  “So I slept with my ugly old woman,” he thought. “So she tricked me. Oh my! I’m losing my touch. If I don’t watch out I’ll make love to an old she-monster next. I must be more observant in the future.”

  After a while he got hungry. Nobody fed him. Then he limped humbly back to his tipi. He entered cooing, making sweet talk: “Old Woman, you’re still the prettiest. Be peaceful. Didn’t I give you a good time last night? What’s for breakfast?”

  —Recorded by Richard Erdoes while listening to stories around a powwow campfire, July 7, 1971, in Pine Ridge, South Dakota.

  HOW TO SCARE A BEAR

  [TEWA]

  Long ago and far away this did not happen. On top of Red Rock Hill, lived a little rabbit. Prickly pears were his favorite food, and every day he would hunt for them along the east bank of the Rio Grande. Eventually he ate all the prickly pears on that bank, so he cast his hungry eyes across the river. He said to himself, “I’ll bet plenty of them grow over there. Now, how am I going to get across the river to look?”

  The rabbit knew the river was too deep and too wide for him to swim on his own, and he sighed, “Oh, how I wish that Uncle Fast Water, who moves the current, were here to take me across.”

  Fast Water heard and replied, “Child, I’m lying right here. What can I do for you?”

  The little rabbit leaped toward the sound. “Uncle, so this is where you live!”

  “Yes, this is the place,” said his uncle. “What kind of work do you want from me?”

  “I want to cross the river to pick prickly pears, but the water is too deep and too wide for me. Will you help me get across?”

  Fast Water agreed, so the little rabbit sat on top of his head. “Splash! Splash! Splash!” went the water, and quickly the two were on the other side. “Be sure and call me when you want to come back,” Fast Water said when they l
anded.

  The rabbit wanted to get home before night fell, so he wasted no time but went right to picking and eating prickly pears.

  Then Brother Bear appeared. “Little Rabbit!”

  “Yes, Brother Bear?”

  “My! What a pretty necklace you have.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?”

  “I want to make a bet with you for that necklace,” said Brother Bear. “I’m willing to bet my red necklace for yours. If I win, you’ll give me yours, and if you win, I’ll give you mine.” Little rabbit agreed, and they arranged to meet at noon the next day in the same spot.

  That afternoon the little rabbit returned to the river, and his uncle easily carried him back across the water.

  “Tomorrow you must wait for me, Uncle. I have placed a bet with Brother Bear, and I’ll need you to carry me across the river again!”

  “I’ll wait for you,” replied his uncle. “I know you’ll win.”

  The next day the little rabbit got up early and hurried to meet Brother Bear. Because of his early start, he arrived first and decided to stroll in the woods. As he was hopping around, he spotted an old horse bell that still had a dried-up piece of leather tied to it. He hung it around his neck, and with each jump the bell went “Clank! Clank!” The little rabbit said to himself, “I think this bell will come in very handy with Brother Bear.” And he hid the bell carefully in the woods.

  When noon came, Brother Bear appeared. “You’re here early,” he said.

  “Yes,” answered the little rabbit, but he said nothing more.

  The two picked a place in the dense wooded area to have their contest. Then Brother Bear made a circle on the ground with a stick.

  “Little Rabbit, you can go first,” said Brother Bear.

  “Oh, no,” said the little rabbit. “You wanted to bet, and you should go first.”

  “Yes, I’ll go first. I’ll bet you I’m the braver of us two. See that circle? You sit in it, and if you move even a little from where you’re sitting I win.”

  Little Rabbit sat down, and Brother Bear took off into the woods. A few minutes later the rabbit heard strange sounds:

  Aaah … Aaaah … Aaah …

  Tweet … Tweet … Tweet …

  Aaah … Aaaah … Aaah …

  Tweet … Tweet … Tweet …

  “I know that’s Brother Bear,” thought the little rabbit. “He’s trying to scare me, but I won’t move.”

  Closer and closer came the strange sounds. Suddenly, with a crash, a great big tree came tumbling down and barely missed the little rabbit.

  “You moved! You moved! I saw you move!” shouted Brother Bear.

  “No, I didn’t move. Come and see for yourself,” answered the rabbit.

  Brother bear couldn’t find any foot marks and had to agree that the little rabbit had not moved at all.

  Little Rabbit said to Brother Bear, “Now you must sit in this circle as I did in yours.” The rabbit drew a circle, and Brother Bear sat in it.

  Leaving Brother Bear sitting in the circle, the rabbit headed into the woods. He just put the old horse bell around his neck and headed toward the place where Brother Bear was waiting.

  After he had hopped a few steps, the little rabbit stopped, rang the horse bell, and sang:

  Ah nana-na——Ah nana-na——

  Is cha-nay——Cha nana-ne——

  Coo ha ya

  Where are you sitting, my bear friend?

  When Brother Bear heard this, he thought, “That’s not my friend Little Rabbit. This is something else altogether.”

  Coming closer to the circle where Brother Bear was sitting, the little rabbit rang his horse bell louder and sang his song once more.

  Brother Bear, growing really frightened, stood up and ran. The little rabbit jumped out and called, “You’ve lost! Let me have your necklace!”

  As the story goes, the little rabbit defeated Brother Bear. And today if you see a rabbit around the Tewa country, and if he has a red ring around his neck, you can be sure that the rabbit is descended from the little rabbit who won Brother Bear’s pretty red necklace.

  —Translated from the Tewa by Alfonso Ortiz

  COYOTE STEALS SUN’S TOBACCO

  [WHITE MOUNTAIN APACHE]

  One day Slim Coyote started out to Sun’s house. When he got there Sun was not home, but his wife was. “Where is my cousin Sun?” he asked. Sun’s wife said that he had gone out and was not home yet. Coyote saw Sun’s tobacco bag hanging up on the side of the house. “I came to smoke and talk with my cousin,” said Slim Coyote, “so give me a smoke while I’m waiting. He won’t mind, he’s my cousin.” Coyote was talking to Sun’s wife as if she were his mother-in-law. She handed him the tobacco bag, and he used it to fill his own little buckskin bag. Then he quickly hid his bag and rolled a cigarette, so that he actually got off with a lot of Sun’s tobacco without her noticing. “Since my cousin hasn’t come back yet, I guess I won’t wait after all,” Coyote told her, and started home.

  Pretty soon Sun arrived. “Who’s been here and gone again?” he asked, looking at his depleted tobacco bag. “Somebody who said he was your cousin,” answered his wife. She told him what had happened, and Sun was very angry. “I’ll get that fellow,” he said. He went out front where he had Black Wind Horse tied, and saddled him up and set off after Coyote. Black Wind Horse could fly, and when he traveled he made a noise like lightning. A light rain started to fall and covered up Coyote’s tracks, but Sun could still follow the thief by the ashes from his cigarette. It kept raining, and pretty soon the tobacco Coyote had with him started to grow. Soon it was putting out leaves, then flowers. At last it ripened and dried, and the wind scattered the seeds everywhere. When Sun saw this, he gave up chasing Coyote and went home.

  When Coyote got back to the Apache camp where he was living, he kept his tobacco for himself and wouldn’t give any away. The people kept asking him for a little smoke, but he said no. The Apache held a council on how to get Coyote’s tobacco away from him, and they decided to pretend to give him a wife.

  “We’re going to give you a wife,” they told him, and Coyote said, “You’re trying to fool me.” “No we’re not,” they said, “we’re really going to give you a wife.” They set up a new wickiup for Coyote, dressed a young boy as a girl, and told the boy not to let Coyote touch him till just before dawn. They made a bed in the new wickiup, and Coyote felt so good that he gave them all his tobacco.

  Just about dusk the boy dressed as a girl went over and sat down beside Coyote in his new wickiup. Slim Coyote was so excited he could not stand up but just crawled around on the ground. “Why don’t you come to bed?” he said to his bride. “Let’s hurry and go to bed.” But the boy just sat there. After a while, when Coyote was more and more impatient, the boy lay down by him but not close to him. “I want you to lie close,” Coyote said, and tried to touch the boy. But the boy said, “Don’t!” and pushed Coyote’s hand away.

  This kept up all night, until just before dawn Coyote made a grab and caught hold of the boy’s penis. He let go right away and jumped back. “Get away from me; get back from me; you’re a boy, not a girl,” he said. Then Coyote got up and called the people. “You lied to me,” he said. “You didn’t give me a wife at all. Give me my tobacco back!” But no matter how loudly he yelled, they wouldn’t do it. This is the way the people first got tobacco.

  —Based on a legend reported by Grenville Goodwin in 1939.

  DOING A TRICK WITH EYEBALLS

  [NORTHERN CHEYENNE]

  Veeho is like some tourists who come into an Indian village not knowing how to behave or what to do, trying to impress everybody.

  One day Veeho met a medicine man with great powers. This man thought to amuse Veeho—and himself—with a little trick. “Eyeballs,” he shouted, “I command you to fly out of my head and hang on that tree over there.” At once his eyeballs shot out of his head and in a flash were hanging from a tree branch. Veeho watched open-mouthed. “Ho! Eyeballs!” cried the medic
ine man, “now come back where you belong!” And quick as lightning, the eyeballs were back where they ought to be.

  “Uncle,” said Veeho, “please give me a little of your power so that I too can do this wonderful trick.” To himself Veeho was thinking, “Then I can set up as a medicine man; then people will look up to me, especially good-looking girls; then people will give me many gifts!”

  “Why not?” said the medicine man. “Why not give you a little power to please you? But, listen, Veeho, don’t do this trick more than four times a day, or your eyeballs won’t come back.”

  “I won’t,” said Veeho.

  Veeho could hardly wait to get away and try out this stunning trick. As soon as he was alone, he ordered: “Eyeballs, hop on that ledge over there. Jump to it!” And the eyeballs did.

  Veeho couldn’t see a thing. “Quickly, eyeballs, back into your sockets!” The eyeballs obeyed. “Boy, oh boy,” Veeho said to himself, “what a big man I am. Powerful, really powerful.” Soon he saw another tree. “Eyeballs, up into that tree, quick!” For a second time the eyeballs did as they were told. “Back into the skull!” Veeho shouted, snapping his fingers. And once more the eyeballs jumped back. Veeho was enjoying himself, getting used to this marvellous trick. He couldn’t stop. Twice more he performed it. “Well, that’s it for today,” he said.

  Later he came to a big village and wanted to impress the people with his powers. “Would you believe it, cousins,” he told them, “I can make my eyeballs jump out of my head, fly over to that tree, hang themselves from a branch, and come back when I tell them.” The people, of course, didn’t believe him; they laughed. Veeho grew angry. “It’s true, it’s true!” he cried. “You stupid people, I can do it.”

  “Show us,” said the people.

  “How often have I done this trick?” Veeho tried to remember. “Four times? No, no. The first time was only for practice; it doesn’t count. I can still show these dummies something.” And he commanded: “Eyeballs, hang yourselves on a branch of that tree!” The eyeballs did, and a great cry of wonder and astonishment went up. “There, you louts, didn’t I tell you?” said Veeho, strutting around, puffing himself up. After a while he said: “All right, eyeballs, come back!” But the eyeballs stayed up in the tree. “Come back, come back, you no-good eyeballs;” Veeho cried again and again, but the eyeballs stayed put. Finally a big fat crow lighted on that tree and gobbled them up. “Mm, good,” said the crow, “very tasty.” The people laughed at Veeho, shook their heads, and went away.