The halibut people

Then they felt very sad on her account and asked each other, “What shall we do about her?” They thought of all kinds of schemes, and at last hit upon a plan. Then they went home, filled a bladder full of blood, and went out to the halibut fishing ground. The elder brother let his younger brother down on a line, but before he got far he lost his breath and had to be pulled up. So the elder brother prepared himself. He put on his sister’s dress, took his knife and the bladder full of blood, and got safely to the bottom. When he arrived there he found himself in front of a house. Some one came out to look and then said to the chief inside, “Has your wife come out to see you?” They thought it was the dead woman. So the halibut chief said, “Tell her to come in,” and he married her.

At this time the friends of the young man were vainly endeavoring to catch halibut, and he could see their hooks. Instead of coming into the houses these would fall around on the outside. They tried all kinds of hooks of native manufacture, but the only one that succeeded was Raven-backbone-hook (Yel-tu’daqe), which came right in through the smoke hole.

After a while the halibut chief said, “Let us go and take a sweat bath.” [Frater autem puellae mortuae semper secum portabat vesicam cruore plenam, quo ungebat extrema vestem qua indutus erat, ut rhombum deciperet, dicens, “Mensibus affectus sum; noli mihi appropinquare.”] [But the brother of the dead girl always carried with him a bladder full of blood, with which he anointed the hem of his garment, in order to deceive the heron, saying, “I have been afflicted for months; do not come near me.]

That night, as soon as the halibut chief was asleep, the man took his knife, cut the chief’s head off and ran outside with it. Everybody in the town was asleep. Then he jerked on his brother’s line, and his brother pulled him up along with the head.

After that they paddled along shore for some time, and on the way the elder brother kept shooting at ducks with his arrows. Finally he hit one and took it into the canoe. It was shivering, and his brother said, “Look at this little duck. It is dying of cold. I wish you were by my father’s camp fire.” On account of these bad words the canoe went straight down into the ocean.

Arrived at the bottom, they saw a long town, and some one said, “Get out of the canoe and come up.” Then the duck led them up into the house of his grandfather, the killer whale — for the killer whale is grandfather to the duck — and a big fire was built for them. Then they seated the brothers close to this and said, “Do you think it is only your father who has a big fire?” After they were so badly burned that their heads were made to turn backward with the heat, they were thrown outside. There they became the ducks called Always-crying-around-[the-bay] (Yikaga’xe). You can hear them crying almost anytime when you are in camp. They never got back to their friends.

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