Tdjo’xwullik; or, the injured wife’s revenge

In a small village by the sea, a skilled hunter frequently embarked on extended hunting trips, returning with diminishing game. His wife grew suspicious of his prolonged absences and declining success. After falling ill one winter, the hunter confessed on his deathbed, leading to revelations that prompted his wife to seek vengeance for his betrayals. This tale explores themes of trust, deception, and retribution.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Revenge and Justice: The title indicates that the wife seeks revenge, aiming to restore a sense of justice for her husband’s actions.

Family Dynamics: The story delves into the relationship between the husband and wife, highlighting marital strife and the impact on their family.

Prophecy and Fate: The husband’s anticipation of his death and his specific burial instructions may hint at a belief in destiny or predetermined outcomes.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

Told by Simon’s mother. This story is well known on the Yukon. Mr. Nelson has it among his Eskimo legends. It was told to me by Simon’s mother, who had it from her grandmother, who was a native of Piamute, the most northerly of the Eskimo villages on the Yukon.

There was once a little village, they say, where there lived a man and his wife. The man was a great hunter. Two small boys were all the children they had. They lived at the mouth of a river, where it emptied upon the sea. So, then, the husband was a great hunter. In the spring, after the ice had gone out, he would go up the river in his kayak after game. Then he would place logs side by side, and pile his quarry upon it. This was his regular custom. After the fishing-season, also, he used to go there, with the same result; and outside his house, upon racks, he had piles of deer-skins and beaver-skins so many did he kill. Now, the boys grew, as their father followed his customary way of life. They became quite large boys, those two. Their father hunted in the sea also, — seals and white whales and sea-lions.

One spring he followed his customary plan. Again, after the ice had gone out, he went up the river in his kayak. He was gone a long, long time. Meanwhile his wife became anxious about him. “Where can he be?” thought she.

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The time of his absence lengthened out. The little boys kept looking for their father day by day. Their mother, also, did not sleep, but sat up night after night, when finally they saw him coming. Then he came ashore. His wife was disposed to be angry. “What a long time you have been gone!” said she. “The grass has grown, and the leaves have come out, and the mosquitoes have come, while you have been away. How many deer you used to get!” said she. “What a long time you have been gone! Is that one kayakful all that you have killed?” “I couldn’t hit anything,” said he. “I saw game enough, but I missed them.” “And you used to pile up the deer-skins and the beaver-skins on the racks, too,” said she. “I don’t know what made me shoot so badly,” said he.

At length the fish began to run. The salmon-run came, and he worked at his fishing; but while they were still running, he began to talk about going up the river. “I believe I will go,” said he. “No,” said she, “it’s too soon. What a hurry you are in!” said she. “Wait, and go after those leaves have turned,” said she. “Remember how little game you killed last spring. You might not be back for a long time,” said she. At last, although his wife urged him to remain, he went away. “Now, hurry up and get back!” said she, “for we are thinking of you.”

He went, and again he was missing. By and by the ice formed at the edge of the water, and he came in sight. “Only one kayakful again! What a long time you have been gone!” said she. “You used to get game.” Then the man said, “Because, when there was plenty of game near by, up the river, I could get them; but now that they are far away, I kill but few.” Then said his wife, “Why is it that you get so few? There’s only one kayakful.”

So then the frosty weather came. When the days grew short, he fell sick. All winter long he continued to be sick; yet his appetite kept up, sick as he was. It came midwinter, and he grew worse. One day he said to his wife, “Listen! for I am going to die. Then, when I am gone, you must put many fine marten-skins beside me in the kayak, many of them,” said he; “and beaver too, fine ones, and wolf and wolverene, and good deer-fat, and my arrows and bow, and tie a deer-skin over the opening of the kayak, and put poles underneath it (i.e., place it on a scaffold). And now, be good to the boys! Make them fine parkas, and do not be harsh with them! Treat them well!” said he. So he died. His wife put him into the kayak, among fine skins, and tied on a cover, just as he had told her to do. Then they made a fire, and sat by it day by day, weeping. His wife also cut off her hair and burned it, for grief at the loss of her husband.

By and by spring approached. The wife and the boys still kept on mourning. At length pools of water stood on the surface of the rivers. Flocks of geese came, and the smaller birds with them. One morning, while the boys were still asleep, the woman went out early, before sunrise, to weep.

She weeps; and just here, overhead, a little bird is singing. Still she weeps, and does not hear him.

All at once she heard it was the name of her husband. She listened, and looked at him. “Wretched bird!” she thought, “why does it speak the name of the dead?” She looked, they say, she listened. There! It speaks! “Tdjo’xwullik up the river is married: he has a wife, — he, Tdjo’xwullik, Tdjo’xwullik!”

So the woman heard him. “What is it that this bird is saying?” thought she. She got up and untied the string that was around the opening of the kayak. “I will find out what the bird says,” she thought. She removed the deer-skin. What did she find? There was nothing in the kayak. Where was her husband? The wolf-skins and wolverene-skins and his arrows, that had been with him, were gone. She was angry, because she thought it was true that he had been dead. “That’s why the bird said it,” she thought. “Since yesterday it has said it; but while I kept crying, I did not listen. Too truly it spoke,” she thought. She went up into her cache. There were many skins of deer and of bear. An enormous brownbear skin also she found, with light fur. This one she chose, and she wet it with warm water. Hurriedly she wet it all day long, and stretched it. At length it became larger. While she was wetting it, she brought in water for the boys. Meanwhile she continued to wet it. She would wet it, and then put it back in its place wet. At length she had filled the pails and the birch-bark bowls with an abundance of water, and it became dark. Finally, while the boys were asleep, she brought in, from off her cache, meat and fat and king-salmon dried, and piled it up in the house. And then she fitted that bear-skin upon herself, and stretched it out, its claws being attached to it. Then she searched in her work-bag, and found the great teeth of a brown bear. And she put these on, also; the teeth she put into her mouth. And she became a great brown bear, like that one, and rushed furiously up the ravine. She tore up spruces by the roots. In her rage, she broke down the trees also. She came down the ravine and returned to the outside of the house. She took off the skin, and laid it down. The teeth also she put with it. She had not slept when the boys awoke. Neither had she eaten anything, for her anger. Then she brought in to those boys a forked birch stick that had been cut. That birch stick she carried into the house. Then said she, “Listen! I am going away. Do not wish for me,” said she. “I will come soon. Now eat the food and drink the water that I have brought in for you. Do not go to get water, for you will fall in; nor go up into the cache, for you will fall down. If any great beast comes in where you are, hold the stick tightly against his breast,” said she. Do not be afraid of him. I will come to you,” said she. Then she went up the ravine, and went along a mountain that formed the bank of the river. She rushed along in her wrath, going in her might, as the ice moves with the crashing of the trees. Another great mountain she climbed. She went up over a place where there were flat stones; and she thought, “I will put these stones at the sides of my chest, and on my breast and forehead.”

While she was going on, some one overhead, on a spruce, began to laugh. “Why,” said some one, “you have made a great mistake. You are very ridiculous. Take off the stones! they are of no use. Why,” said he, “in time to come it will be a thing for people to laugh about.” So she took them off. Then said the Raven, “There! That’s it! Now you look all right. Now go ahead!”

Then again she went on, hurrying, for she was thinking of the boys. She followed the river-bank. There, below her, she saw a large village, full of people. Toward it she went, and again she took off the skin; and the teeth, too, she removed, and put them under a little spruce. Here she found a good path, and she followed it to the village. She came near to the village from behind it. A large village it was, indeed, with a great kashime, and next to the kashime a large house. She went on in this direction, and there she ran in. On each side of the fire two beautiful women had set their pots to cook. They called to her. “Cousin,” said they, “you have come in, then! That is right, stay with us!” One of them said, “Sit down on my side of the room!” So she sat down on the platform. One was cooking deer-meat in a large pot, and the other was cooking beaver-meat in a large pot. “Cousins,” she said to them, “your husbands, where have they gone?” for she was thinking, as she looked at all the finery there in the house. Beautiful mats there were, and beds of deer-skin, and marten-skin parkas. Then they said to her, “Why, there is only one man living with us! Last spring, after the ice had gone out, a stranger came to us and took us,” said they; “but when the grass had begun to grow, then he left us; and last winter, at midwinter, he came back, and lives with us. He has gone to get wood,” said they.

Then they offered her food. “No,” said she, “I am not hungry. I ate only just now.” — “Come,” said they, “stay with us!” “Yes,” said she. “How very little oil there is on the surface of your pots!” said she to them. “Smile,” said she to one of them, “and bend over the surface of your pot!” When she did it, an abundance of oil covered the surface. “And you,” said she, “squint, and bend over yours!” Then she seized them both by the hair on their foreheads, and pushed their heads down into the big pots until they were dead and then she lifted them up, and put them back in their places. She made one of them appear as if she were sewing, and afterward she did the same thing to the other. One was squinting, and the other was smiling. Then she. ran out and rushed up the hill. Now came their husband, with logs in tow. He tied them up at the beach, and went up to the house and entered it. The woman who was bending over, squinting, he struck. When he did so, her face sloughed off. The other, who was smiling as she sewed, he struck also, and the skin sloughed off. Thereupon he ran out, crying. “What ails my wives?” said he. “My wife has been with them!”

As he goes out, the village is in an uproar. Just now they were walking around quietly outside the houses. What is the matter? Some are crying, and yonder some are shouting. “There goes a brown bear up on the big mountain!” they yell. Up streams a swarm of villagers, armed with spears and ice-picks and arrows. Up, up, they go. On the mountain the great beast stands looking at them. It is Tdjo’xwullik who is in the lead. In an instant she catches him. “My wife, I have come to you!” he says, for the woman has pushed the hood from her face; but that is all he says, for she crushes his head between her jaws, and tears him in pieces. And all the men of the village, too, she destroys on the spot, and down upon the village she rushes. She begins at one end of the village, and goes to the other. Caches and houses, she destroys them all, and the children and the women, and then she leaves.

She left, and went toward her own village, for she was thinking of the boys. She went into her house, and the older of the two boys cried out, “Ulli’yu!” in terror, and began to scream. Meanwhile his younger brother, the little man, caught up the stick that their mother had given them, and set it quickly against that bear’s breast. There he held it firmly. At that, she pulled back her hood. “My children,” said she, “well done! Stay where you are!” said she. Then she went out. Outside, near the house, she took off the skin, and removed the teeth also, and put them under a log and went in. Then she took the two boys on her knees, caressing them fondly. “Ah,” said she, “you have done well. While I was far from you, I was thinking about you.” There, then, they remained all that summer. The leaves turned, and still they staid on. The cold weather came; and then she said to her children, “Let us go now to the place where:our house is to be!” The younger of the two children she loved exceedingly. “As you have done,” said she, “so will men do in years to come. While the older brothers are fearful, the younger brothers will be brave.” They dressed themselves in brown-bear skins, for it had grown cold. Their mother, also, put on the skin that she had worn; and they went up the ravine to the place where their house was to be. On either side of the place stood a large spruce. On the farther one the mother exercised herself, and on this side the children; and when they had finished thus sharpening their claws, they dug out a place for the house. They completed it; and then she said to her children, “From this time on, men shall see but little of us.”

So, then, my story is ended.

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Raven kills a giant with a stone axe

In a village where men vanished each winter, the chief asked Raven to investigate. Raven discovered a giant responsible for the disappearances, using a stone axe to kill the men. After confronting the giant, Raven seized the axe, killed the giant, and returned to inform the villagers, revealing the fate of their lost men.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to overcome the giant.

Cultural Heroes: The Raven acts as a foundational figure, protecting and shaping the fate of his society.

Revenge and Justice: The Raven delivers justice by avenging the deaths of the village men.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

Told by Walter

There was a big village, full of people, with only one kashime. A Raven man lived there, too. Every winter the people hunted for deer, and every summer they fished for salmon, for a winter supply. Now, every winter one man disappeared from the village, and at last there was nobody left but women. Then the Chief said to the Raven, “Well, Raven, can you find out what has become of all the people?” And the Raven said, “I think that is too hard for me.” But afterwards he went off for seven days, and he came to a great earth house. He went in, and saw a giant. “Halloo!” said the giant. “Halloo!” said the Raven. “Well, Raven,” said the giant, “will you stay with me?” “Yes, sir!” said the Raven. So he went out of the house again, and looked around and saw a big cache. He went up on the cache and went inside, and saw plenty of dead men.

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Then he went down again and went into the house, and said to the giant, “I went up into your cache and saw plenty of dead men. How did you kill all those people in your cache?” And the giant became angry with the Raven, and caught up a big stone axe to kill him; but he did not kill him, and the Raven took the big stone axe and cut off his neck, and ran out, and the house was full of blood. So he went back home with the big stone axe, and went into the kashime and said to the chief, “Tell all the women to come in; I want to tell them what I have seen.” So the women came in, and the Raven went out and got the big stone axe, and put it down in the kashime, and said, “A big giant killed all the men of this place with this stone axe, and every one of them is dead.”

(The storyteller closed with the English words, “And after, every women get cry.”)

Raven and his eye

Raven removes one of his eyes and places it atop his canoe to serve as a lookout while he gathers materials in the woods. Hearing his eye call out, he returns to find it missing. Unable to locate it, he returns to the forest.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The Raven is often portrayed as a cunning figure in various mythologies, using wit to navigate situations.

Sacred Objects: The Raven’s eye can be considered a sacred object, imbued with special significance and power.

Conflict with Nature: The Raven’s journey into the woods and his interactions with the natural environment highlight a relationship with nature.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

A Raven was paddling along in his canoe at the edge of the river, and he thought to himself, “I must get some fish-trap sticks!” So he went to the shore, and got out on the beach. Then he took out one of his eyes and put it on top of his canoe, and said to it, “If you see any one coming, you must call me, and I will come to you.” Then he went up into the woods to find some fish-trap sticks, and began to cut them, when he heard his eye calling him. He ran out of the woods; and when he came to the place where he had left his eye, it was gone. He could not find it anywhere, so he ran back to the woods.

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How Raven got a good meal

Raven, feeling hungry during his travels, catches a large fish and smears its scales on his parka to appear as an expert fisherman. He convinces a village to follow him to his bountiful fishing spot but feigns forgetting his knife, sending them ahead. While they’re gone, he returns to the village and consumes all their provisions. Upon discovering the deception, the villagers attempt to shoot Raven but fail. A poor boy, with a bow made by his grandmother, successfully kills Raven; however, the villagers ultimately perish from starvation.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the archetype of the cunning figure who uses deception to achieve his goals.

Conflict with Nature: Raven’s manipulation of natural resources and the villagers’ subsequent struggle for survival underscore a tension between humans (or animals) and the natural world.

Community and Isolation: The tale explores the dynamics between the individual (Raven) and the community (villagers), illustrating how deceit can lead to communal suffering and isolation.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

Told by Stephen Morton

Raven was travelling on a long journey, and he became very hungry. After a while he saw a big fish under the ice, and he made a fire and caught the fish. He put the scales aside; and after he had finished eating, he smeared them all over his parka, to make it look as though he had been doing nothing but catch fish. He went on, and after a long time he came to a big village. He went up into the kashime, and found it full of men. The old men were telling the younger ones to make the fire for the daily bath. So they made the fire; and after the bath, they asked the Raven for the news. He told them how his house stood alone, and how good the fishing was; and when they looked at his parka, they thought that he was telling them the truth. “Come,” said he, “everybody shall go with me tomorrow, and I will give you all the fish that you can carry away.”

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So the next morning they all started out together; but when they had gone some distance, the Raven said, “Sakes alive! I have left my knife in the village!” So the men said to him that he had better go back and get it.

“All right,” said he, “but you go ahead; and if you get to my house before I catch up with you, go into my cache, and help yourselves to the best fish that there are there.” So he left them; and when they were out of sight, he flew back to the village, and went into the caches and ate up all the fish and meat that were there. Then he went into the houses and ate up all the parkas and bed-clothing, and everything else that he found. When the people found that they had been fooled, they came back, and found everything gone. The Raven was flying over the village, and the young men tried to shoot him with their arrows, but no one was able to hit him. There was a poor boy, however, who told his grandmother that he would like to try. So his grandmother made him a little bow and arrow, and he killed the Raven; but all the people in the village died of hunger.

How Raven enticed a man away from his home

Raven, lacking food, discovers fat floating in a river and traces it to a man’s home. After befriending the man and his wife, Raven convinces the man to journey to his village, promising abundant skins. Mid-journey, Raven deceives the man into retrieving a forgotten knife, then flies back to the man’s home to feast. The man, realizing the betrayal, returns home exhausted to find his family in destitution, leading him to kill both his wife and Raven in despair.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to deceive the man.

Good vs. Evil: The story portrays the struggle between the man’s innocence and Raven’s malevolence.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts a lesson about the dangers of trusting deceptive individuals.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

The Raven was paddling along. He had no food, and was not expecting to see anybody. So all summer long he kept on his way up the river. Now he paddled through some bubbles, but he did not look at them or think anything about them. But as he paddled along, he saw a large one between himself and the shore; and as he was passing it, he looked at it. He examined it, and it was fat. So he took it and smelled of it, and began to think about it. “What can this be?” thought he. “Suppose I eat it!” So he ate some of it. It seemed sweet to him. He smeared his parka with the rest of it, and his canoe also, and went on. By and by he saw a house up on the bank. Below the place, deer-bones had been thrown over the bank. Below the bones there was a great quantity of fat.

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“This is where it came from, then,” thought he. He got out at the place. There he saw only one house, but a great many caches. There were also many deer-bones lying outside the house. So he went in. There was a woman there, alone. She stared at him. Then she said, “I didn’t suppose there was anybody else around here;” and the Raven said, “I, too, thought that there might be no one here.” Then she offered him meat; but the Raven said, “I don’t care for meat, I get tired of it: fish is the only thing that I care for.” She gave him some fish, and he ate it. Soon her husband returned. “Cousin,” said he, “I didn’t suppose there was any one in this neighborhood.” “Neither did I think that there was any one here,” said the Raven. Then said the man, “Won’t you stop with us?” — “No,” said the Raven, “for I have a wife, and children too. Come with me to my village tomorrow,” said he. “I believe that there are more skins at my village than there are at your village,” said he. “Part of them shall be yours.” The man did not care to go, but the Raven urged him. “Come,” said he, “come, hurry up! Come along with me!” So at length they started out. As the man was going along in the lead, the Raven pulled out his knife and thrust it into the ground. So they kept on, going back from the river. As they were going along in the back country, the Raven cried out, “I have forgotten my knife!” And he said to the man, “Cousin, go and get it for me. I will give you a marten and an otter and a beaver for your trouble, if you will.” “No,” said he, “get it yourself!” — “All right,” said he, “I will go and get it, and you keep on till you get to my village; and when you get there, have a good feed.” So the Raven went back; and when he was out of sight, he took to his wings. “K’gak!” said he. Then he flew to the village and gorged himself with everything that was in sight.

The man went on for four days. As he went along in the day-time, he saw nothing whatever, and he was hungry. Then he thought, “I wonder if it is true! I believe that Raven was lying.” Meanwhile his strength was gone, and he wanted water, so he went back. A great many days he crept along, exhausted. Finally he dragged himself to a spot above his house, and lay down and slept. He awoke, and looked at the place. There was nothing, — no food or meat. He went to the door of his house. Some one was crying inside. He went in. His wife had on an old, ragged parka, and there were two children with her. “So, then!” said he. “So, then, did you have any children while I lived with you? The Raven is to blame for this!” And he killed her and the Raven too. Then he went out. “Better that I should go somewhere,” he thought. “Soon I shall be dead and gone,” said he. So he went into the mountains. He had no food, and saw no deer. At length his strength gave out. Then he crawled to the side of a river and went to sleep. He awoke and listened. Below him some one was coming, and he called out. Whoever it was, was eating. “What’s making that noise?” said they. “It sounds like a hawk. Let’s leave some food for it!” So they put out some food, and went on, up the river. Again the man went to sleep. He awoke; and near him there was plenty of food, and fat also. He gathered it up thankfully, and ate it, having turned into a hawk.

(Another version) A man and his wife lived together in a house in the woods. The man was a great hunter of deer. He filled his cache with the skins, and he and his wife lived entirely upon the meat. Every year the man would go off hunting, and come back with great loads of meat and skins. Once, after he had returned from hunting, as he was sitting in the house with his wife, they heard some one coming, and brushing the snow off his boots at the door. Presently the mat which hung in the doorway was pushed aside; and in came the Raven, stamping his feet, and congratulating himself upon having reached shelter. The hunter looked up and greeted him. “Well, friend, so you have come?” said he. “Yes,” said the Raven, “and I am glad enough to get to a place to pass the night, for I am all tired out.” The woman gave him a bowl of deer-meat, saying, “This is the only thing we have to eat. Will you have some?” The Raven took it, but he did not seem to relish it very much; and finally he said, “We have so much of this to eat at our village, that I do not care very much about it. Do you have to go far for your deer?”

The hunter told him that in former years the deer used to be plenty, but that lately he had been obliged to go a long way to find them. Upon this, the visitor proposed that he should go with him to his village, where they were so thick that one could get them by going just a short distance from the house. At first the man objected; but finally he consented, and they started out together. When they had gone a long way, and had come into a country that was unknown to the hunter, one day, as they were nearing the place where they were to make camp, the Raven suddenly exclaimed, “There! I left my knife at the last place where we made a fire. I must go back and get it. You go on and make camp, and I will come back and follow your tracks and find you.” So they separated, and the hunter went on; but the Raven had no sooner got out of his sight than he lifted up his face and called for snow. Then there came a great storm, which covered up the trail, and the hunter was left alone in a country that was unknown to him. He waited for the Raven, but he did not return. Then he began to wander around, trying to find some landmark by which he could locate himself; but, although he spent the whole winter in this manner, he only became more confused as to his whereabouts. So he wandered around until the ice began to melt in the spring. Then he came to a stream, which he followed up until it led him to a gorge, heading up towards the mountains. As he went up this gorge, he began to make a song, weeping over his misfortunes, and crying, “The Raven, he is a liar!” As he went along, he found that the backs of his hands were changing, and becoming scaly, and that they were becoming feathered also. Beside this, the tears running down his cheeks made furrows, which took on a stain, and at last he found himself turning into a hawk. Sitting on a crag and wheeling in the air above the stream, he heard the sound of voices, and soon saw a party of men coming in canoes. They passed him, and went on up the river without noticing him. Afterwards he heard the voices of another party. This was led by an old man, who called out to those following him that he saw a hawk, and told them to throw out some scraps of food for it. He also found that they had left food on the rocks as they passed along. When the first party returned from their hunt, they had nothing in their canoes; but when the other party returned, their canoes were loaded down, so that they had to put poles across them to transport the meat.

How Raven stole the old woman’s bear-meat

An old woman lived alone, subsisting on fish and game. After killing a bear, she stored its meat. Raven visited, feigned helpfulness, and borrowed her fishskin parka and boots, which he secretly consumed. While she searched for the missing items, Raven devoured her bear meat and vandalized her home. Upon her return, she discovered his deceit, killed him, and later encountered two women seeking their husband. A confrontation ensued, resulting in the old woman killing them both.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning and deceit to achieve his goals.

Revenge and Justice: After discovering Raven’s deceit, the old woman takes justice into her own hands by killing him.

Loss and Renewal: The old woman experiences loss after Raven’s theft but encounters new challenges and characters, suggesting a cycle of loss and new beginnings.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was an old woman who lived year in and year out in the same place. In the summer she fished with a net, to get her winter supply of fish; and in the winter she lived in an earth house, and worked at snaring rabbits and grouse. One day, as she was making a fire, a bear made his way into the house, and she killed him, and afterward she went to bed; and next morning she got up and skinned the bear, and cut up the body, and filled her cache with the meat, and buried some of it in the ground. Then she went into the house and cooked the bear’s feet for herself. As she finished cooking them, the Raven came in. “Where did you come from?” said she. “From somewhere,” said the Raven.

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So she gave him some of the meat; and he said, “Dear grandmother, I want to get some wood for you.” The old woman agreed; and the Raven said, “But I am too cold. Lend me your fishskin parka and boots.” So she let him take them, and he went off as if he intended to get some wood; but when he was out of sight, he ate the parka and the boots. Then he came back; and the old woman said, “Where are my parka and the boots?” And the Raven said, “Oh, my dear grandmother! I forgot, and left them where I was getting wood.” And the old woman said, “Well, go back and get them!” And the Raven said, “I don’t want to go back for them. Get them yourself, grandmother!” So the old woman started off to get the boots and the parka, but she could not find them; and while she was gone, the Raven flew up, alighted on her cache, and ate all her bear-meat. Then he went down into the house, and turned everything upside-down, and smeared the place with bear’s grease. Pretty soon the old woman came back to the house, and found the Raven playing with the bear’s fat. “Where did you get that bear’s grease?” said she. “Dear grandmother,” said the Raven, “that is what you gave me yesterday evening.” Then the old woman killed the Raven, and hung up his skin in the house; and afterward she cried all the time, because she had no food for the winter. Some time after that, she came in one day, and found two women in her house. “Oh, my!” said she, “where did you come from?” “We have lost our husband,” said they, “and we are looking for him.” “I haven’t found anybody,” said the old woman; but one of the women began to look around, and she saw the Raven’s skin; and they both set upon her to kill her, but she turned out to be the stronger, and killed them both.

(Another version) There was once an old woman. She lived in a little house. One day she heard a great noise at her door. It was a big beast trying to get in. The old woman got her hammer and awl, and she struck the beast and killed it. Then she brought it into the house and cooked it, and there was plenty of meat and fat on it. She put it all into her cache, except the entrails; and she was cooking these, when she heard some one coming. It was the Raven, and the old woman told him to come in. They ate the entrails, and afterward the old woman told the Raven to get some wood for her. She gave him a pair of fish-skin mittens and a fish-skin parka and fish-skin boots. As he was going out, he ate one of the mittens; and while he was in the woods, he ate the other, as well as the boots and the parka. Then he got some wood and came back to the house. The wood was wet, and the old woman threw it all out again -, and at that the Raven came in, and she asked him where all the clothing was that she had lent him. He said that it had been very hot, and that he had left the things on a tree and had forgotten all about them. She told him to go and get them, and he refused. Then she went into the woods to get them herself, and the Raven stole all the fat that she had put into her cache, and fouled the floor of the cache with his excrement. When the old woman came back, he had made a ball of the fat, and was playing with it. The old woman asked him where he got the fat; and he said, “You gave it to me this morning.” She was angry, and said, “I did not give you that this morning.” Then she went to look at her cache, and saw what he had done, and that the fat was gone. This made her angry, and she got her hammer and awl. When she went in, she told the Raven that she was going to cut his hair, but she hid the hammer and awl under her parka; and when she came up as if to cut his hair, she drove the awl into his head with a blow of the hammer, and killed him. Then she pounded him to a pulp with her hammer, and put him into a bowl, and put him into a hole in the ice, and went into her house again. As she sat in her house, she heard a noise at the door. There were three women, and they had three little babies on their backs. They came in, and asked where the Raven was. She said, “I don’t know where he went.” But they did not believe her, and they began to fight with her, and dragged her down to the hole in the ice and fought with her there; but she forced one of them into the water, and then another, and then the other, and then she went back to her house.

How Raven stole the rich man’s daughter

In a village of mud houses, a wealthy man had a beautiful daughter who refused all suitors. One day, while berry-picking with other girls, their canoes mysteriously drifted across the river. A Raven man offered to ferry them back, but after assisting the others, he abducted the rich man’s daughter. She cleverly escaped by tying his rope to a tree and returned home safely. Subsequently, the villagers transformed into animals.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: The Raven man embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to deceive the village girls and abduct the rich man’s daughter.

Forbidden Love: The Raven man’s desire for the rich man’s daughter, despite social and personal barriers, reflects a pursuit of forbidden love.

Conflict with Authority: The Raven man’s actions challenge societal norms and the authority of the rich man, leading to significant consequences.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was a big village where the people lived in mud houses; and in the village there lived a rich man who had a big house with a skin tied to a pole on top of the house, because he was a very rich man. He had a wife and one daughter. In the middle of the village there was a big kashime; and every evening the men of the village went into the kashime, and their wives brought them fish and meat and ice-cream; and after they had eaten, their wives took the wooden bowls away and went to their own houses, and the old men and the boys all went to sleep in the kashime. Early in the morning the young boys would go to get wood for the kashime, and afterwards they would have breakfast.

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Sometimes the rich man would hunt for deer, and would kill plenty of deer with his arrows and bow, and would feed all the people. Now, his daughter was a fine girl, and she did not wish to get married to anybody. And all the young boys liked her, and every one got fire-wood for her, and tried to go into her father’s house to visit her; but she did not care for them, and threw all their dry wood over the bank. They all tried for her, but they could not get her. One summer the girls of the village took their canoes and went to get berries, and the rich man’s daughter went with them in her canoe. They all stopped at the foot of a mountain, and left their canoes, and went up on the mountain to get berries. When the Raven man heard that the girls had gone to get berries, he took his canoe and went after them, and found their canoes drawn up on the shore, and took them over to the other side of the river. When the girls came down from the mountain, they found that their canoes were gone; and they said, “Oh, my! our canoes are on the other side of the river: the wind did it.” Then they saw the Raven man paddling past them; and they called to him, and said, “Bring our canoes over to us!” But he said, “No, I will take you across in my canoe.” So the girls said, “Yes;” and he took over first one, and then another. Then the rich man’s daughter said, “Take me over!” but he said, “By and by.” So after he had taken all the others over, he took the rich man’s daughter into his canoe, but he went off down the river with her. And she cried, because she did not like the Raven man. So he went on down the river with her; and she cried all day long, because she did not like him. And he said to her, “Don’t cry! I will not hurt you, I am a good man.” But she said, “I don’t like you: you tell lies all the time.” The next day the girl said, “I want to go into the woods for a little while.” So the Raven man said, “Yes;” and he tied a long rope to her, because he thought she might run away, and he held the end of it while she went into the woods. Then she untied the rope, and tied it to a tree and ran away. The Raven man called to her, but there was no answer; and he pulled upon the rope, but it did not give; and he pulled it hard, and the tree broke off. Then he ran up into the woods, looking for her; but she was on the way home, and got there first. Afterward he went home too; and his grandmother asked him, “Where have you been?” and he said, “I have been in the woods.” But his grandmother said, “I hear that you took the rich man’s daughter off down the river. Don’t do that again, because you are not a rich man, to take that girl for your wife.” And after that, all the people turned into animals.

(Another version) There was a big village where a great many people lived. And they had only one kashime, and in this village there lived a Raven man. There was a girl, too, who did not want to get married. All the young men wanted her, but she did not care for any of them. It came summertime, and all the women went to get berries, and this girl went with them. After they had gone, the Raven got up and put on his little dog-skin parka and boots, and went out of the kashime, and went looking around, and found a canoe laid up. He took it down and looked at it, and found that it was made of fish-skin. He put it in the water and got into it, and found the place where the girls had gone to get berries. He saw their canoes drawn up on the shore, and took them all across the river, and then went off down the river again. In the afternoon he came up again; and by that time the women were coming back, down the mountain. “Oh, my!” said one of them, “our canoes are all on the other side of the river. How shall we get across?” Then they saw the Raven coming up the river in his canoe; and they all called out to him, “Oh, my dear grandfather! please, will you bring our canoes over for us?” But the Raven said, “No, I can’t do that, because it will be too much work. I’ll tell you what I will do. I will take you all over, one at a time.” So they all said, “Yes,” and he took them all over except that beautiful girl. “Come on!” said -he, “and I will take you over, too.” So she got into his canoe; but, instead of taking her across, he went off down the river with her; and she screamed, because she didn’t like him. He went on about twenty days, and one day the girl said that she would like to take a walk on the shore. So the Raven said she might; and he went ashore and took a big dogharness out of his canoe, and tied a long rope to it, and put it on the girl, and told her to go ahead. So she went up the bank, into the brush, and found a big stump, and took off the dog-harness and put it on the stump, and went off a little way. “Come on!” said the Raven-, and the Stump said, “By and by, I am not ready yet.” And after a while the Raven pulled on the rope, and hauled the big Stump out to the bank; and he became angry and went up on the bank, looking through the brush. Pretty soon he came back, and saw the girl sitting in the canoe; and he said, “Come on, come and get me!” But the girl said, “I don’t like you.” And the Raven said, “If you won’t take me, give me my arrows and my bow.” But she broke them in pieces, and threw them into the water, and paddled away home. Then the Raven began to cry, because he had no canoe to go home in; and he made his way home walking on the beach, and reached the village in about twenty days, very ill and sore, and went to his grandmother’s house. “Where have you been?” said his grandmother. “I don’t know,” said he. He was sick one day and one night, and the next morning he died. His grandmother wailed for him, and all the women wailed, too, and that night all the people made songs. But some of them made bad songs, and the Raven made trouble for them. In the morning, when it grew light, the Raven flew away, and afterward all the men and women flew away, too.

How Raven’s eyes became white

Raven, in human form, discovers and consumes fish from others’ nets. He encounters a beautiful woman gathering berries and insists she accompany him to her house. She reluctantly agrees, but when Raven attempts to impress her with a dance, she transforms into a squirrel and escapes. Angered, she throws hot ashes into Raven’s eyes, turning them white.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using cunning to take fish and attempting to coerce the woman.

Cunning and Deception: The woman deceives Raven by pretending to comply with his wishes, only to trick him and escape.

Moral Lessons: The story imparts a lesson about the consequences of greed and unwelcome advances, as Raven’s actions lead to his own suffering.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

When the raven was a man, he was paddling along past a mountain, and became hungry. He paddled along, and came to a stake set at the edge of the water, and examined it. There was a fish-net tied to it, and the net was full of fish.

So he put them into his canoe, and stowed them at his back and in front of him also. Those in front of him he ate raw, until he was satisfied. “A-ha-ha!” thinks he, “I am filled. Thanks, I am filled.” And he takes his paddle, and is off again. He paddled all day, and again he saw another stake set up. He paddled up to it, and there was another fish-net tied. This one, too, he examined. Surely enough, it was full of fish.

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Taking these, he put them into his canoe, at his back and in front of him also; and part of those that were in front of him he ate raw. “A-ha-ha!” thought he, “thanks, I am filled.” Then he looked about, and upward also, and saw a house, — a fine house. Outside the house were dried whitefish hanging. So he went into the house. There was no one there. Inside the house also there were dried whitefish. On the side nearest him were some fine, new, squirrel-skin parkas, women’s parkas, — and beautiful mats and work-bags. “Where can she be?” he thought. He went back again, and stood looking out of the doorway. He kept on looking, and saw a path leading up upon the mountain. So there he swaggered along, and went rushing up. He climbed up to the top and looked around. There were many berries there, and beside the path there were birchbark bowls with berries in them. This way and that he ran, looking for whoever was there. Suddenly he saw a beautiful woman picking berries. He went to her and took her by the shoulder. “Come along,” said he, “let us go to your house!” but she was unwilling. “No,” said she, “it is the time for me to be picking berries. By and by I will think about it,” said she. But he kept hold of her shoulder. “Come along!” said he. At length she grew angry. “What a rascal!” said she. “Go along down to my house by yourself!” Angrily the woman said, “Go along down to my house with me, then!” She tied her berries into a pack, and the Raven and the woman also started to carry them away. When they reached the house, the woman said, “Come, untie it and put it down! I will dance for you,” said she. And the woman sang,

Ikna’, ikna’, a’kcaito.
Ikna’, ikna’, a’kcaito.
Akca’ tcugu’n hugu’,
Unnu’ ya vwuga’n he.
m m m!

Now, then, it is your turn,” she said. “I should like to see you.” “Yes,” said he. He jumped up and down. He sang,

Tliki’n gaka’hl, tlik, tlik, tlikim gakajl,
Tliki’n gaka’hl, tlik, tlik.

“Your song is good for nothing,” said she. “Shut your eyes! Ctiq!” said she, and she scampered down between his legs in the form of a squirrel. She went into her house, and the door closed by magic. The Raven climbed up to the roof at the smoke-hole, and looked down. The woman was angry, and threw hot ashes into his eyes with a ladle, and they turned white.

How Raven brought light

In a time of perpetual darkness, a beautiful woman refused all suitors. Raven, determined to win her, embarked on a journey through the darkness. He discovered a village bathed in light and identified the woman’s house by a distinctive flag. Transforming into a spruce needle, he entered her home and, through cunning, managed to bring light to his own dark world.

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale explains the origin of light in the world, a fundamental aspect of creation myths.

Trickster: Raven embodies the trickster archetype, using wit and cunning to achieve his goals.

Quest: The story centers on Raven’s journey to obtain and bring back light, a classic quest narrative.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was a big village, they say, — a big village where there were many people. There, they say, there lived a certain one who did not wish to get married, a very beautiful woman. Her father, they say, was very wealthy, — he whose daughter it was who did not wish to marry. All the young men of the village tried hard to get her. Some of them brought wood and put it on top of the house (near the smoke-hole). That enemy of Cupid ran out. “What are they getting it for?” says she. She throws it over the bank and goes in again. All the men do the I’ll-try-to-get-I’m-the-one-that-will-try-to-get act, but it is of no use. Some of them set her father’s fishtrap for him, and then they went back and sat down. “Enough of her!” said those village boys. “We just can’t get her,” said they.

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At length they took other women, ugly or not. Men came to see her from other villages, too; but they got nothing but “No.” Some went to get deer. [The local term “deer” has been used throughout for “caribou”] “No,” it was. Then the people of those villages quit her. “Enough!” said they. People from villages everywhere came to see her, north and south, saying, “Let me try!” but “No,” it was. Then they gave it up, too.

Down in the kashime was a Raven man. Now, he began to think, that Raven, there in the dark. All night long he lay awake, thinking. “I think I had better try, too,” thought he. Now, it was dark while they had been doing all these things. So he went out; and he travelled, and he travelled. Dusk or darkness, no sun no moon, only darkness, yet he travelled. When he was tired (of walking), then he would fly, and then again he would change into a man. When his wings hurt him, he would change into a man; and when his legs hurt him, he would fly. By and by it became light with him, as if dawn were approaching, and at length it was as bright as day. Then, as he flew, he saw a village where there were many people (walking around in the) daylight. Then, near the village, he changed himself into a man, and kept on toward the village.

He mingled with the people, but there were so many of them that they were not aware of his presence. Those village people took no notice of him. Now, yonder there was a big kashime, and beside it a large house with a pole raised over it, with a wolverene-skin and a wolf-skin tied to the end, like a flag. Thought the Raven, “Only unmarried women’s houses are like that.” He went up to it. He stood looking, and a great many people came out, busy about their work, and among them a woman. Such a beautiful woman she was, going for water, dressed in a parka made only of marten-skins, with a wolf ruff, of longer fur than usual. “There’s the princess herself,” thought he. He considered how he should act concerning her. Meanwhile the woman left the house to get the water. In the doorway of that house of theirs hung a mat. Out of sight over the bank went the woman. Thereupon he rushed into the doorway and became a spruce-needle, and fell into the interstices of the mat in the shape of a spruce-needle. So there he is, just so. Soon the woman came to the doorway, bringing the water. With her free hand she carried water in a little wooden pail. She was about to push aside the curtain, when the spruce-needle dropped into the pail. She went back to her place in the house, with it floating around in the water. “I will drink some water,” said she; and when she drank, she swallowed the spruce-needle. “Ugh!” said she, “my throat hurts. I swallowed some grass with it.” — “Why didn’t you look inside?” said her mother. “Does it hurt much?” “Why, no,” she said, “it was only a little piece of grass.” The next day at daybreak she called to her mother, so they say. “Ma,” said she, “what’s the matter with me? My belly seems to be big.” “What makes it?” said her mother. “Are you sick?” “Why, no,” said she, “but my belly is big.” The next day she called to her mother again. “Ma,” said she, so they say. “There is something moving in my belly, like a little fish,” said she. “Come here and feel of my belly!” said she. So she felt of her belly. “My daughter!” said she, “what has happened to you? You are just like we are when we are with child” said she in a fright. “If you have not been with anybody, how did you get this way?” said she. “It is only women with husbands that get this way,” said her mother in a fright. “What is going to happen to you?” said she; and when she felt of her belly, the child moved. “That is a child, sure enough,” said she. Soon she began to be in pain. Then her mother said to her, “I’m sure you have not been immodest, yet you are in this condition,” said she. So then that child was born, and it was a boy. It was just like a little raven. They washed him, and dressed him in a fine parka, and he stared with those big eyes of his. He looked all around him, and behind his grandfather hung something that gives light. His grandfather and his grandmother brought him up. They did not sleep, for filling him up with deer-fat. Yes, and his mother’s brothers and sisters took care of him too, that little raven. He crept, and by and by he walked, and then he began to cry incessantly, that child. “What is that bawler saying?” said his grandfather; and his relatives said the same thing. “Perhaps he is in pain,” said they. Sometimes he would stretch out his hand imperiously toward the light. “Maybe he’s saying that he wants that,” said they. “Go ahead and put it by him!” said they. “Just let him see it!” So they took it and gave it to him. He stopped crying right away. By and by he grew bigger, and they gave it to him sometimes, and then put it back again. At length he went out of doors; and whenever he came in, he cried for that thing, and they gave it to him. Even when he was grown up, he would cry for it. “Go ahead and put it on my neck!” said he. “Make a string for it. It will be here at my breast,” said he. Then they put it around his neck. He wore it on his bosom, and went out with it, and ran back into the woods among the bushes. “I hope they will forget me,” thought he. “They never say ‘Where is he?’ about me.” He flew back with that big, shining thing, toward his own village. When he was tired (of walking), he flew; and when his wings were tired, he walked; and at last he came back to his own village.

The Sun and the Moon

In a village shrouded in darkness, a woman refuses all suitors. One night, she discovers her secret visitor is her own brother. Overcome with anger and shame, she cuts off her breasts, places them in a bowl of ice cream, and presents it to him, declaring that sickness will now afflict mankind. She then transforms into the sun, and her brother, in remorse, becomes the moon

Source:
Ten’a Texts and Tales
(from Anvik, Alaska)
by John W. Chapman
The American Ethnological Society
Publications, Volume 6 (ed. Franz Boas)
E.J. Brill, Leyden, 1914

► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale explains the origins of the sun and the moon.

Forbidden Knowledge: The sister’s discovery of her brother’s actions reveals hidden truths with significant consequences.

Divine Punishment: The sister’s declaration that “with mankind shall there be sickness” introduces a form of retribution linked to their actions.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Koyukon Lore

Learn more about Koyukon people

There was once a large village where there lived a family of children, — four boys and their younger sister, making five. Now, the girl did not want to get married. Many strangers wanted her, and came to visit her, as well as the people of her own village; but she was unwilling to marry. At length the women and men of the village took partners. At that time darkness was over all the earth; there was no sun or moon there.

And there that woman lived, and strangers (came) no (more), and the people of the village took no notice of her. She walks outside, but they never look at her, since others are their wives. So then, one night, some one scratched her head while she slept.

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“There are no strangers, who is it that is doing this?” she thought: yet she spoke with him. Daily that man who had come in to her began to do the same thing. He became as a husband to her. “Who is it that is doing this?” she thought. “All the village people have their wives, except my brother; he has none, and when there are no strangers, I will tie a feather to his hair; and when they leave the kashime, I will look for whoever has his hair tied,” she thought. “Come,” said she, “go into the kashime and get some sleep! I am sleepy too,” said she, his hair having been tied (to the feather). So the man went to the kashime; and she lay awake, thinking. Soon it became light, and she went out and stood in the door of their house.

So it came the time when we come out; and then she watched the men as they came out, but there was nothing in their hair. Then her brother leaped out. She looked, and there was the feather. It became dark with her, and her face was suffused with blood; then she became hot with anger.

And when it was day, she brought in her fine parka, the clean one, the best she had. Deer-fat too, and berries, she brought in. Neither did she say anything, though her mother spoke to her; and at the time that she made the fire she bathed herself.

Then, dressed in her fine parka and moccasins, she puts ice-cream into this bowl of her brother’s, and takes a dressing-knife, and, (reaching down) within (her parka), cuts off her breasts. Then next she puts them upon the ice-cream; and in (each) she sticks an awl, and takes them into the kashime. When there, she straightens herself up. There sits her brother at the back of the room, opposite the door. She placed (the bowl) by him.

“It was you, then, that did it,” she said. “I supposed that it was some one else that did this thing. Now, with mankind shall there be sickness,” said she. Then she went out; and there yonder she went, and the sun rose; and her brother too put on his parka and his moccasins also, but only one of them, in his hurry, thinking, “It may be that my sister has escaped from me.” Then he too went away, and became the moon.