"WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !
WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !"
Then it paused to pour more water on the rocks before it sang again.
"WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !
WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !"
This time, as the Chenoo sang, they noticed that its voice did not seem as loud. Again they heard the sounds of steam rising as water was poured on the stones.
"WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !
WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !"
That voice was much softer now, so soft that it sounded like the voice of an old man.
"WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !
WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, WAY-YAA, HOOO! !"
Then it was silent.
"Grandchildren, open the door," a little voice called from inside the sweat lodge.
Awasos lifted up the door flap. A huge gust of steam blew out from the lodge, knocking him backward. As the steam rose into the air, a little old man crawled out from the lodge. As he stood up, the little old man began to cough. He coughed and coughed until he coughed up a huge piece of ice in the shape of a human heart. Falling to the ground, the heart-shaped piece of ice that was the bad spirit of the Chenoo shattered on a rock.
"Thank you, my grandchildren. You have saved me. I am no longer a monster. Now I am truly your grandfather," said the old man with a smile.
So Nolka and her two brothers took the old man who had been a Chenoo as their grandfather. They brought him back to their village, where he quietly and peacefully lived out the rest of his days.
CHENOO (PASSAMAQUODDY)
The cannibal giant whose heart is made of ice is called by many different names among the northern people where winter is the most dangerous time of year. This creature, who is sometimes described as a human being transformed into a monster, howls like the storm wind and pursues its prey. But if its heart can be melted, it may be turned back into a person. A very similar being is called Windigo by the Cree.
Sources:
"Passamaquoddy Texts/' by John D. Prince, American Ethnological Society, Publications 10 (1921).
The Algonquin Legends of New England, by Charles G. Leland (Boston: Houghton and Mifflin, 1884).
AMANKAMEK
A young woman was walking through the woods. She was on her way back to her village.
"Come here," a voice said from close behind her.
That voice frightened her. Perhaps it was the voice of Mamuui, the Eater, the one who hunts for human beings. She was about to run when she heard that voice again.
"I will not hurt you. Listen."
Then she heard the sound of a flute. She turned around to look. A young man she had never seen before sat on a fallen birch tree. He was dressed in new buckskin clothing, and that clothing was all decorated with so much quill work that it glittered in the light. The song he was playing on his flute was pleasing to her ears. He was a fine-looking young man who was pleasing to her eyes.
When he finished his song, he looked right at her and asked, "Where are you going?"
"I have just spent some time in the forest. I am going back to my village now," she answered.
"Would you like to come with me?" he said, holding out his hand.
"Yes," she said. She forgot that she was on her way home. It seemed as if he was the only thing that she could see and that his voice was the only thing she could hear. "I will come with you."
"That is good. I want you to meet my grandmother."
He took her hand, and they walked toward the river. But as they walked, the young woman noticed that things looked different. They were going down a steep hill that she had never seen before, and there was mist all around them. There were no trees, and the earth under their feet was all sand. At last they came to a cave where an old woman sat.
"Granddaughter," the old woman said, "come and sit here beside me."
"Are you hungry?" said the young man. "I will hunt for food. What kind of meat do you like?"
"I like deer meat," said the young woman.
"Then I will bring you some." The young man picked up a spear and walked off until he disappeared in the mist. Soon he came back, carrying a deer over his shoulders.
The young woman was pleased. Not only was this young man handsome, he was also a good hunter.
"I am Red Flower. What is your name?" she asked.
"I am Amankamek," he said.
Red Flower thought that the name sounded familiar, but she could not remember why. There were many things she could not remember. She could not remember where she had been going when she met Amankamek. She could not remember her own village.
Each day, Amankamek asked her what she wanted to eat. Each day he brought back whatever she asked him to hunt.
"While I am gone," he told Red Flower, "you may walk around. But do not go too far. And if you see even a small cloud in the sky, come back here quickly and hide in the cave."
Red Flower did as she was told. She remained in the cave with Amankamek's grandmother. She was respectful to the old woman and helped her in any way that she could. But even though the old woman was kind to her in return, Red Flower was not completely happy.
Amankamek provided her with plenty to eat. But it was cold inside the cave, and it seemed as if she could always hear strange voices at night, whispering all around her in the darkness. Red Flower began to remember her family, and she grew sad. The old woman saw this.
"Granddaughter," said the old woman one day when Amankamek was out hunting, "are you not feeling well?"
"Grandmother," Red Flower said, "I am feeling lonesome. I miss my mother."
The old woman looked at her for a long time. "Granddaughter," she said at last, "it is not right that Amankamek keeps you here. He is my grandson, but still I will help you. Tomorrow, when he asks you what you want to eat, name an animal that will be difficult for him to find."
The next morning, as always, Amankamek asked Red Flower, "What would you like to eat?"
"I would like to eat the meat of a black elk that has one horn and a white spot on its shoulder."
"Ah," Amankamek said. "It will not be easy, but I will bring you what you want." Then, as always, he walked off and disappeared into the mist.
"Look at me, Granddaughter," the old woman said. Her voice sounded strange.
Red Flower turned to look. The old woman's face was growing smooth and round, and her arms and legs were shrinking as her body grew longer. When it was done, she had turned into a great horned snake.
"This is how we truly are," the old woman snake said. "Now I will help you escape from Amankamek. Climb onto my back."
Red Flower climbed onto the back of the old woman snake. It began to carry her up until they reached the surface of the river. Red Flower realized then where they had been. The cave was on the bottom of the river. The old woman snake began to swim for the shore, which was very far away.
"Granddaughter, do you see any clouds in the sky?" said the old woman snake.
"I see one small cloud far behind us," said Red Flower.
"Then I must swim faster," said the old woman snake.
"Now I see more clouds, and they are getting larger."
"I must swim very fast now/' the old woman snake said.
Red Flower looked back. There were twelve clouds in the sky, and they were coming swiftly toward them. Suddenly something lifted up from the waves close behind them. It was the head of another horned snake, even larger than the old woman snake. It held in its jaws a black elk with one horn and a spot on its shoulder.
"Amankamek is close behind us," Red Flower said. "Swim faster."
"Granddaughter, where are the clouds now?" said the old woman snake.
"They are right overhead," said Red Flower.
"Then I must dive underwater," said the old woman snake. She dove out from under Red Flower just as lightning began to strike the water all around them.
Red Flower found herself underwater. She could see the old woma
n snake swimming away, deeper and deeper, safe from the lightning.
Red Flower thought she would drown when a strong hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her up onto the bank of the river. A tall man dressed in red buckskin stood there. Eleven other men who looked just like him stood close behind him.
"Little one," the tall man said in a booming voice, "you have helped us. You brought the monster up so that we could strike it with our spears. You see?" he said, pointing with his lips toward the body of the great horned snake that they had pulled up out of the water. It was Amankamek.
Red Flower knew who the twelve men were. They were the Thunder Brothers, the ones who fly on the clouds seeking out the monsters that bother the people and striking them with their spears of lightning. Of all beings, they are the only ones who hunt for the great horned snakes.
"Grandfathers," she said, "I thank you."
So it was that Red Flower was saved from Amankamek, the giant horned snake, and returned to her own people. From that day on she was always a friend of Thunder.
AMANKAMEK (LENAPE)
In some stories this creature is dangerous to the people. In others, it befriends and helps human beings. The underwater snake is usually described as a serpent as large as a whale, with either one or two horns on top of its head. The horns of the snake are reputed to have great power and can be used to heal the sick. The horned snake is the mortal enemy of the Thunder Brothers, and when lightning strikes over the deep water, it is said that Thunder is fighting with the underwater snake.
Sources:
The Algonquin Legends of New England, by Charles G. Leland (Boston: Houghton and Mifflin, 1884).
Folk Medicine of the Delaware, by Gladys Tantaquidgeon, Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission Anthropological Series (1972).
The White Deer and Other Storied Told by the Lenape, by John Bierhorst (New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1995).
The Grandfathers Speak: Native American Folk Taled of the Lenape People, by Hitakonanu'laxk (Interlink Books, 1994).
KEEWAHKWEE
Long ago, a boy lived alone in a cave in the forest with someone who said that she was his older sister. However, she always sat with her back to him, and she kept her long, tangled black hair brushed over her face so that he could not even see her eyes.
Older Sister never left the cave. Each day she would send the boy, whose name was Little Weasel, out to get food. Aside from making him new moccasins whenever the old ones wore out, she provided nothing for him. Little Weasel was a very good trapper. All through the day he would check his snares for animals and birds and bring whatever he caught back to the cave. Then he would divide the game into two piles. The small pile would be for him.
'You eat now," Older Sister would say in her strange voice. "I will eat after you are sleeping."
Then Little Weasel would cook his food, eat it, and go to bed next to the fire with his blanket pulled over his head. He always kept his blanket tight over his head, as Older Sister told him.
"If you do not cover your head," she said, "the sparks from the fire will burn your face."
Each morning she would do a very strange thing. With her back toward him, she would reach out one hand.
"Let me see how fat your arm is now, little brother." Then she would squeeze his arm. "Ah," she would say, "not yet fat enough."
It bothered Little Weasel that Older Sister did this. So he decided he would no longer allow her to really feel his arm. Instead, because she did not turn around to look, he would hold out a stick for her to squeeze.
"Ah," she began to say, "so thin and bony. Not yet fat enough."
One day, as Little Weasel checked his traps, he found a rabbit caught by one leg.
"If you let me go," the rabbit said, "I will tell you something that you need to know."
"I will do as you ask," Little Weasel said. Then he removed the snare from the rabbit's leg.
"The one who calls herself your older sister is not really your relative," the rabbit said. "She stole you from your grandfather when you were a baby. I know you are his grandson, for you have one dark eye and one light eye, just as he does. Watch her when she eats tonight, and you will see."
That night, after he ate, Little Weasel curled up next to the fire and covered his head with his deerskin blanket. But he took his knife and put a hole in his skin blanket just big enough for him to look through.
After Little Weasel seemed to be asleep, Older Sister moved over near the fire.
"Skinny little brother," she whispered, "are you asleep yet?"
Little Weasel said nothing, but pretended to sleep.
Older Sister poked the fire with a stick. "Look out," she whispered, "the sparks will burn you."
One of the sparks flew right through the hole in his blanket and burned his cheek, but Little Weasel said nothing and did not move.
"Good," Older Sister said, "he is asleep. Now I can eat." Then, as Little Weasel watched through the hole in his blanket, Older Sister brushed the thick, tangled hair away from her face. Her face was not a human face at all. It was the face of a Keewahkwee, a cannibal monster. She had round red eyes and a wide mouth with many sharp teeth. Blood dripped from her mouth, for she had chewed away her own lips. She reached out her hand to pick up one of the animals that Little Weasel caught. Then she began to eat it raw — skin, bones, and all.
Under his blanket, Little Weasel watched. Older Sister finished eating, and then she looked at the shape of Little Weasel under his blanket.
"He is still bony and thin," she snarled, "but I will not waste any more time fattening him up. I will eat him tomorrow night." Then she turned and curled up in her corner of the cave and slept.
The next morning Older Sister, the Keewahkwee, did not ask Little Weasel to allow her to feel his arm.
"Ah," Little Weasel thought. "It is as she said last night. She intends to eat me when I come back."
"Older Sister," Little Weasel said, "I need new moccasins with very strong soles. The ones I am wearing have worn out."
Older Sister grumbled, but she did as he asked and threw the new moccasins over her shoulder to him.
"Here," she said, "these will last you for as long as you need them."
Little Weasel put on the new moccasins and went out of the cave. He was ready to run away but uncertain which way to go. The rabbit, though, was waiting for him in the forest.
"Do not take the trail you always take. Take the path toward the sunrise," the rabbit said. "Your grandfather lives there, and he will help you."
Little Weasel ran along the path toward the sunrise. Looking out of the cave, Older Sister saw that the boy was not taking the trail that led to his snares.
"What is he doing?" she snarled. She lifted up his deerskin blanket. When she did so, the stick that he had held out to her instead of his arm fell out and she saw the hole in the blanket. "He is running away!" the Keewahkwee cried.
As Little Weasel ran, he suddenly heard a terrible howl behind him. He knew that the Keewahkwee was chasing him. He ran as hard as he could until he came to another cave in the hillside above him. In the mouth of that cave sat a huge old porcupine.
My elder," Little Weasel said, "your quills are very clean and beautiful."
Thank you, said Procupine. "It is good to meet a young one who is so polite."
"May I hide in your cave?" said Little Weasel. "Keewahkwee is after me."
"Come inside, young one," said Porcupine as he moved aside to let Little Weasel in.
Soon Older Sister, the Keewahkwee, arrived at the mouth of Porcupine's cave.
"Where is the one I am going to eat?" she snarled.
"How do you like my quills?" Porcupine said.
"They are dirty and ugly," Older Sister growled.
"Ah," said Porcupine, "I understand. The one you want to eat is behind me in my cave. You must pass me to get him."
Older Sister, the Keewahkwee, jumped up to enter Porcupine's cave. But as she did so, Porcupine struck her with h
is quills and killed her.
'Young one," Porcupine said to Little Weasel, "I have killed her, but she will come back to life again. Keep running toward the sunrise to find your grandfather."
Again Little Weasel ran and ran. Soon he reached a wide, swift river with rocky rapids. There a very tall heron stood. Just as he reached the river, he heard the howl of the Keewahkwee, who had come back to life and was on his trail. Little Weasel ran up to Heron.
"My elder," Little Weasel said, "your legs are very long and beautiful."
"Ah-hah," said Heron, "it is good to meet a little one who is so respectful of his elders. Can I help you, little one?"
"Will you help me cross the river?" said Little Weasel. "Keewahkwee is after me."
"Use my leg as a bridge, little one," said Heron as he stretched his long leg across the river to let Little Weasel cross.
Soon Older Sister, the Keewahkwee, arrived at the river where Heron stood.
"Where is the one I am going to eat?" she snarled.
"How do you like my legs? " Heron said.
"They are short and ugly," Older Sister growled.
"Ah-hah," said Heron, "I see. The one you want to eat is on the other side. To cross over you must use my leg as a bridge."
Then Heron stretched his long leg across the wide, swift river. Older Sister, the Keewahkwee, began to cross. When she was half way across, Heron shook his leg, and she was thrown into the river, where she was drowned.
"Run, little one," Heron called over to Little Weasel. "The Keewahkwee has drowned, but she will come back to life again. Run toward the sunrise. Your grandfather is there waiting for you."
Once again, Little Weasel ran. He heard the howl of the Keewahkwee behind him, and he ran faster. There, in a broad meadow just ahead of him, next to the ocean, was a big wigwam. An old man with white hair and two tall feathers on his head sat there. The old man had one dark eye and one light eye. By his side sat a tiny dog, no bigger than Little Weasel's hand.
As soon as the dog saw Little Weasel, he ran up, wagging his tail.
When the Chenoo Howls Page 3