Ta-ka the Mosquito and Khandatagoot the Woodpecker

The gods convened to punish humanity’s selfishness, each assigning a specific affliction. Yaeethl the Raven, initially indifferent, eventually introduced Ta-ka the Mosquito as his chosen torment. Ta-ka befriended Khandatagoot the Woodpecker, exploiting his hospitality. One day, Ta-ka returned from hunting, engorged with blood, and enticed Khandatagoot to seek the same sustenance. This tale explains the origin of mosquitoes and their relentless pursuit of blood.

Source:
In the Time That Was
being legends of the Alaska Klingats
by J. Frederic Thorne (Kitchakahaech)
The Raven – Seattle, 1909

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for the existence and behavior of mosquitoes.

Trickster: Yaeethl the Raven embodies the trickster archetype, introducing the mosquito as a cunning form of punishment.

Conflict with Nature: Humans must contend with the mosquito, a natural element that brings discomfort and challenges.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

When the selfishness of men had driven the gods from the earth, the Great Ones held a council in Tskekowani, a potlach in the World Beyond. All the gods were there. They talked of the sins of men and of the punishments that should be visited upon them. Long they talked.

Then Theunghow, Chief of Gods, called each by name, and bade him name his sending.

And each god named a sickness, a pain, or a killing.

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At one side stood Oonah the Death Shadow, and in his hand held his quiver. And as each punishment was named, into his quiver placed Oonah an arrow, sharp-pointed, swift-flying, death-carrying.

The quiver was full, and all had spoken, all save Yaeethl the Raven, who by the cook pot sat smiling, eating.

To Yaeethl spoke K’hoots the Grizzly, saying:

“Dost thou send nothing, Brother? Behold, the Quiver of Death is full, and from the Raven is there no arrow of punishment for men. What arrow gives Yaeethl?”

“Why bother me when I am eating? Is there not time after the pot is empty? Many arrows there are. Because men insult me shall gods spoil my eating?” Thus spoke the Raven as he scraped the pot.

Then Hekt the Frog urged, saying:

“Art thou a god, or is thy belly a god, that in the council the Raven takes no part?”

“A god am I, and a god have I been since the Beginning, thou son of wind and slime. But that my ears may be no longer troubled, a little punishment will I send, that the sons of men forget me not. No arrow from Yaeethl shall find place in Oonah’s quiver. Arrow and messenger both will I send. Thy punishments carry the peace of death, mine the torment of life.”

“And this punishment of thine?” asked Hekt sneering.

And Yaeethl, as from the pot he cleaned the last morsel, replied: “Ta-ka.”

Of all the punishments named by the gods the first to reach the earth was that of Yaeethl — Ta-ka the Mosquito.

To Khandatagoot the Woodpecker, the simple-minded, went Ta-ka, and from the Woodpecker claimed hospitality. And the rights of a stranger gave Khandatagoot to Ta-ka, gave him a place by the fire, and of his food a share, for his head a shelter, treating him as the son of a sister is treated Together they fished and hunted, together they ate and slept. Of the hunting and fishing the chief part was Khandatagoot’s, of the eating and sleeping Ta-ka’s, — Ta-ka who from Yaeethl came.

On a morning the Woodpecker fixed his canoe, and alone to the hunt went the Mosquito.

All day was Ta-ka gone. Low hung the sun when to camp he returned. Slow flying came the Mosquito, and as blood is red, so was the body of Ta-ka, and swelled mightily.

Then was the Woodpecker frightened, thinking his friend wounded, and crying, ran to help him. To the ground sank Ta-ka, but no wound could Khandatagoot find.

Many questions asked the Woodpecker, and to them Ta-ka replied:

“No hurt have I, but full is my belly, full of the choicest eating that ever made potlach. Yet much did I leave behind, the feasting of many months did I leave.”

Then was the belly of Khandatagoot pinched with hunger for this good eating, and of Ta-ka claimed his share.

On the tongue of the Woodpecker placed Ta-ka a drop, saying: “No more can I give of what I have eaten, but as you have shared with me, so shall I share with you. The fill of many bellies is there left.”

“Where is this sweet eating?” asked Khandatagoot, “Tell me the trail that I too may feast until my wings are heavy.”

“No trail is there, Brother. The red juice of a dead tree is this eating, a dead tree in the forest. Its name I know not, but hunt, and you shall find it. Go quickly, lest others get there first.”

And since then, the Woodpecker spends his days seeking in dead trees the red juice that flows in the veins of live men.

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The Water Carrier

In a time when the earth lacked water, Heenhadowa, the Thirst Spirit, guarded the sole well hidden among mountains, denying all beings access. Yaeethl, the Raven, driven by thirst and compassion for suffering humanity, attempted to persuade Heenhadowa through kinship claims and flattery. When these efforts failed, Yaeethl resorted to scorn, mocking the Thirst Spirit’s obstinance. The tale underscores themes of resource guardianship and the consequences of selfishness.

Source:
In the Time That Was
being legends of the Alaska Klingats
by J. Frederic Thorne (Kitchakahaech)
The Raven – Seattle, 1909

► Themes of the story

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

Conflict with Nature: The scarcity of water represents a struggle against natural forces, with characters striving to overcome environmental challenges.

Good vs. Evil: The narrative portrays the struggle between Yaeethl’s efforts to provide water to the world and Heenhadowa’s selfish hoarding of it.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

Cha-auk. [Ages ago.] In the Time before Time, there was no water upon the earth or in the bowl of the sea, and Shanagoose the Sky gave neither rain nor snow.

In one place only was Keen, the water. In a deep well it was, the father of wells, hidden among the mountains that lie between here and Tskekowani. To Heenhadowa, the Thirst Spirit, belonged the well, by Heenhadowa was it guarded. By the door of the well-house sat he by day, in front of the well-house door was his bed by night. And none might enter.

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Never did he leave the well, morning, noon or night. From the water he took life, to the water he gave life. To no man, woman, or child, to neither animal nor bird, to nothing that walks, creeps, or flies would Heenhadowa give of the precious water. Not so much as would moisten the tongue of Ta-ka the Mosquito would he give, though men died.

To quench their thirst men chewed the roots of young trees and the stalk of Yan-a-ate [species of wild celery].

A few men there were, brave of heart and moose-legged, who had travelled the weary journey to the well among the mountains, the mountains marked with the trail of Oonah, the Gray One, Death, seeking the water that is life.

And of them?

Is it not well said that Oonah, Death, and Koo-stay, Life, are brothers, and he who seeks one finds the other?

And Heenhadowa laughed, first at their black lips, later at their white bones, and drank deep but gave not.

Now Yaeethl, the Raven, Desirer of All Things, longed most for those that were forbidden, concealed, or like the favor of women, not to be had for the asking. And since the water was denied, his tongue ached with dryness, and Yan-a-ate lost its savor. Also was his heart moved by the prayers of men and the cries of women. But his tongue troubled him more than did his heart, his tongue and his cupidity, so that he was moved to try his cunning where the strength and bravery of men had failed.

No crooked trail through forests and over mountains had Yaeethl to measure with his feet, but on his wings of blackness was he borne straight to the place of the well.

Well and well-house he found, found also Heenhadowa, watchful, moving not from his place. As one greets an old friend new found spoke Yaeethl to the Thirst Spirit. With smooth tongue and soft words spoke the Raven, claiming kinship through the cousin of his grandmother’s grandmother. Said also that when he left his father’s country he was bidden seek that old and true friend of the family, Heenhadowa the Wise, the Generous Giver of Water. As bidden, so had he obeyed and flown straight without halt or rest to bow before his mighty relative, and taste of his wonderful well, the like of which not even his father had, who possessed all things.

But the Maker of Thirst laughed at the Raven and mocked him, bidding him, if he would drink, find or dig a well of his own.

Again Yaeethl recounted their connected lineage, from mother to mother’s mother, from family to family and tribe to tribe, tied with proof and argument, lashed with meek bows, and smoothed with soft flattery.

Heenhadowa laughed scornfully, cast from him the claim of cousinship, and mocked at Yaeethl’s tongue, dry from the dust of many words.

Then Yaeethl drew about him the parka of anger and answered scorn with scorn, mockery with mockery, and laughter with laughter.

In his father’s country, said Yaeethl, they gave the name of Heenhadowa to mangy dogs and unclean women. Glad was the heart of Yaeethl that the Thirst Spirit denied the relationship he had laid as a snare, the denial would make his father proud. As for the well, ‘twas now known to the most stupid, even to men, that it was but an empty hole in the ground, covered by the well-house to hide the dryness there of, and no deeper than Kaelt-tay, the Seagull, scratches in the sand for nesting.

Laughed Heenhadowa again, saying that belief or unbelief of Raven or man lessened not his treasure by a drop.

Then Yaeethl’s words flared as firesparks. Hot words of evil sounding names, vile as only the brain of Yaeethl could fashion, taunts that bit and stung festeringly like the nettles of Sech-ut [devil’s club], names that would disgrace the family of a Siwash, callings that would make even a squaw-man hang his head in shame. Can I say more of the bitterness of the tongue of Yaeethl?

Heenhadowa laughed.

To battle Yaeethl challenged the Thirst Spirit: Come forth and meet me, you fatherless son of a shameless mother, littering of a slave’s slave.

Come with me to the plain below and I will make of thy blood another well, for another of thy family of dogs to guard.

Flatteries and arguments, insults and challenges fell into the same echoless hole, bringing to Yaeethl only the laughter of Heenhadowa and increase of thirst.

Then was the heart of Yaeethl heavy within him, but not so heavy as his face said, for it is not the way of the Raven to eat quickly of discouragement, though he turned and left the well and its guardian like a gambler who has lost his last blanket.

Not far did he go. Only so far as to be hidden from the eyes of Heenhadowa, where silence might mother the children of his brain. And since the brain of the Raven is full of the seeds of cunning a plan was quickly born.

Back toward the well flew Yaeethl, but, since he who sees the tail of a lone wolf imagines the whole pack, he alighted at a distance where the eyes of Heenhadowa saw as one sees in a fog. A space the size a man uses for his lodge he cleared of all bushes and weeds, to the smallest blade of grass he cleared it of everything that grew.

When the space was as the palm of a man’s hand the Raven spread his wings until every feather showed and, first bowing low to Hoon-nach, Yundahaech, Sa-nach, and Deckta-haech [North, East, South and West], who guard the four corners of the earth, walked slowly around the sides three times, at every third step stopping and making strange motions and stranger sounds, as does an Icht [Witch Doctor] when he would drive the evil spirits away.

From each corner he took a stone and spat upon it and cast it over his shoulder, and in the dust drew the shapes of animals like unto rolled deer-thongs, animals with two tongues such as no man has seen upon earth. [Snakes are unknown in Alaska]

To the space Yaeethl dragged logs and laid them end across end and bottom on top. As each tier was laid he sang words in a strange language, and as he sang, spat upon and cast pebbles over his shoulder as before.

But toward Heenhadowa were the eyes and tongue of Yaeethl the eyes of the blind and the tongue of the dumb. Busily he worked and loudly sang his charms, but to the Thirst Spirit he gave neither look nor word.

On Yaeethl were the eyes of Heenhadowa fastened, strained were his eyes, watching the doings of the Raven, wide his ears to catch the words of the songs and charms.

When the roof was on and the house finished to the last piece of moss between the logs, Yaeethl again circled it three times, bowed again to the guardians of the earth’s ends, and without looking behind, entered the lodge and closed the door.

Curiosity filled eyes and ears, heart and belly of Heenhadowa. Though he had lived since the Beginning, never before had he seen what that day he had seen, never had his ears been greeted with such words and songs.

And to Heenhadowa the inside of the lodge was the pack, as was the outside the lone wolf tail.

Even so had Yaeethl planned, nor was that the end of the cunning of the Raven, who knew that no door can bar the going in of curiosity.

Long sat Heenhadowa before the door of his well-house, gazing at the lodge of Yaeethl. And the longer he sat and the longer he gazed the keener grew his desire to see what was hidden from his eyes by the walls and closed door, grew until it tortured him as the thirsty are tortured, beyond endurance.

And Heenhadowa rose from his seat by the well.

From the place where he had sat for ages rose the Thirst Spirit and stepped softly. Toward the closed door he moved as moves one who is pulled at the end of a thong, for the fear of the unknown was upon him. But stronger than his fear was his desire to know what lay behind the door, stronger even than his fear of those strange animals that were drawn in the dust, dust pictures that made his blood ice.

Before the door he stopped and glanced back the way he had come, at his well and well-house he looked, then pushing against the door with his hand, stepped within the house builded by Yaeethl, made by Yaeethl the Raven, Yaeethl the Cunning.

No man knows what Heenhadowa found within the lodge of the Raven. Only this we know.

When the time of the boiling of a salmon had passed, from the door stepped Yaeethl walking as a man walks who has been carrying a heavy pack. Behind him he closed the door and against it rolled a heavy stone, a stone so heavy that not even K’hoots the Grizzly, the Strong One, could have moved it away again.

Within the lodge was silence, silence big with unborn noise.

To the well of Heenhadowa, the father of wells among the mountains, the well untasted of man or beast, flew Yaeethl, Yaeethl the Desirer of All Things.

And when the Raven stood beside the well he bowed his head and drank.

Some say that it took him many moons, some put it the length of a man’s life, but, long time or short time, when the head of Yaeethl the Raven was lifted the well was dry.

Of water there was none in the well of Heenhadowa.

In the belly and mouth of the Raven was the water. All.

Then did Yaeethl spread wide his wings of blackness and fly the way of his coming.

As he flew over the bosom of Klingatona-Kla, the Earth Mother, in this place and in that he spat out some of the water. And where spat the Raven there sprang up streams, and rivers, and lakes.

When he had flown so long and so far that the water was gone from his mouth, and in his belly was not fresh, then from his belly and his mouth he cast it, salt, and Athlch, the Ocean, was.

If you listen to the words of them that know not, they will tell you that Haechlt is a great bird the falling of whose eyelids makes thunder, the flashing of whose eye is the lightning, but if my words be the words of truth, then is thunder the angry voice of Heenhadowa whom Yaeethl made prisoner, and lightning the cracks in the lodge walls when he throws himself against them, struggling to be free. Should he succeed…

But, bird or Thirst Spirit, from Yaeethl is the gift of water. So say I again when you drink, give thanks to the Raven that chewed roots are not the answer to thy dry lips, give thanks, and pray that the rock rolls not away.

And There Was Light

In a time before light, the Earth Mother, Klingatona-Kla, was blind, and the world was shrouded in darkness. The Wise Man, Yakootsekaya-ka, kept the sun, moon, and stars locked away, fearing Yaeethl, the Great White Raven and master thief. To bring light and end her barrenness, Klingatona-Kla sought Yaeethl’s help. Using cunning, Yaeethl transformed into a pebble, infiltrated the Wise Man’s lodge, and endeavored to release the celestial bodies.

Source:
In the Time That Was
being legends of the Alaska Klingats
by J. Frederic Thorne (Kitchakahaech)
The Raven – Seattle, 1909

► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale explains the origin of light in the world.

Divine Intervention: Yaeethl, a god, directly influences mortal affairs to bring light.

Trickster: Yaeethl uses cunning and deception to outsmart the Wise Man.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

Before there was a North or South, when Time was not, Klingatona-Kla, the Earth Mother, was blind, and all the world was dark. No man had seen the sun, moon, or stars, for they were kept hidden by Yakootsekaya-ka, the Wise Man. Locked in a great chest were they, in a chest that stood in the corner of the lodge of the Wise Man, in Tskekowani, the place that always was and ever will be. Carefully were they guarded, many locks had the chest, curious, secret locks, beyond the fingers of a thief. To outwit the cunning of Yaeethl were the locks made. Yaeethl the God, Yaeethl the Raven, Yaeethl the Great Thief, of whom the Wise Man was most afraid.

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The Earth Mother needed light that her eyes might be opened, that she might bear children and escape the disgrace of her barrenness. To Yaeethl the Clever, Yaeethl the Cunning, went Klingatona-Kla, weeping, and of the Raven begged aid. And Yaeethl took pity on her and promised that she should have Kayah, the Light, to father her children.

Many times had Yaeethl, because of his promise, tried to steal the Worlds of Light, and as many times had he failed. But with each attempt his desire grew, grew until it filled his belly and his brain.

Was he not Yaeethl, the Great White Raven, the Father of Thieves? What if the Wise Man put new and heavier locks upon the chest after each at tempt? Were locks greater than the cunning of the Raven?

Now Yakootsekaya-ka, the Wise Man, and his wife had a daughter. Of their marriage was she, a young girl, beautiful and good. No man had ever seen her face. On no one, god or man, had the eyes of the young girl ever rested, save only her father and mother, the Wise Ones. Ye-see-et, a virgin, was she.

Yaeethl, of his wisdom knowing that the weak ness of men is the strength of children, that a babe may enter where a warrior may not cast his shadow, bethought him of this virgin, this daughter of Yakoot sekaya-ka. As the thought and its children made camp in his brain, Yaeethl spread wide his snow-white wings.

Thrice he circled high in air, then took flight towards Tskekowani, the meeting place of Memory and Hope. Like Chunet, the Arrow, he flew, straight, and as Heen, the River, swift. Twice ten moons, and another, flew Yaeethl without rest of wing before he drew near the cabin of the Wise Man. Away from the lodge he alighted, by the edge of the spring were his white wings folded, by the spring where the daughter of the Wise Man would come for water.

Then, with the power that was his, Yaeethl, the God, changed the shape that was his, the shape of the raven; into a small white pebble did he change, and lay in the water of the spring, and in the water waited for the coming of the girl.

Long waited Yaeethl, the Pebble, with the patience of wisdom and great desire. And the girl came.

Beautiful in her maidenhood, graceful in the dawning of her womanhood, came the girl, the virgin, the daughter of Yakootsekaya-ka, the Keeper of the Worlds of Light. Stooping, she dipped her cup into the cool water. From the edge of the spring rolled Yaeethl, into the cup he rolled, and lay quiet in the shadow of her hand. Quiet he lay, but full of the Great Desire.

And the girl saw him not.

To the lodge returned the maiden, bearing the cup, the water, and the Pebble. Into the lodge entered the maiden. In the lodge where lay the Sun, Moon, and Stars, was Yaeethl.

From the cup the Wise Man drank, but Yaeethl moved not. From the cup the Mother drank, and Yaeethl was motionless. When the Daughter raised the cup to her lips, toward her lips rolled Yaeethl. Softly he rolled, but the Mother, ever careful, heard the sound of the pebble on the cup-side, and the keen eyes of the Father saw the white pebble shine.

Do not drink, Daughter, said the Wise Man, laying his hand on the maiden’s arm. Small things sometimes contain great evils. A white pebble it may be, and only a white pebble. Yaeethl it may be, Yaeethl the Raven, Yaeethl the Father of Thieves.

Then the Mother took the cup and out through the door cast the water. Through the door cast the pebble. And when the door of the lodge was closed behind him Yaeethl, the Disappointed, once more took his own form, the shape of the raven, white of wing and white of feather.

Back to earth flew Yaeethl, angry, ashamed, but more than ever filled with a great longing for the Worlds of Light that lay locked in the chest of the Wise Man.

Klingatona-Kla, Earth Mother, wept long and sore when empty-handed returned Yaeethl, loud she wailed, making sure she must remain forever dark and barren. But Yaeethl, the Undaunted, comforted her with strong words, and renewed his promise that the Light should be given her in marriage, and her disgrace forgotten in many children, children should she have as the shore has sand.

Though he had flown as speeds Hoon, the North Wind, the going and coming of Yaeethl had eaten three winters and two summers.

Awhile he rested in the lap of Klingatona-Kla, for the winter he rested, but with the coming of the spring, he spread again his wings and took flight towards the lodge of the Wise Man, towards the Great Desire. Mightily he flew, and swift, for though the dead make the journey between the opening and the closing of an eye, for the living it is a long trail.

When again he alighted, wing weary, by the spring where the daughter of Yakootsekaya-ka drew water, Yaeethl remembered the shape and whiteness that had betrayed him, remembered the traitor Pebble, and from the memory gathered wisdom.

Close to his side folded he the wings of white ness, beneath his feathers tucked head and feet, and grew small. Small and yet smaller he grew, as melts ice before the fire, and when the shrinking was ended he had taken upon himself the form of Thlay-oo, the sand grain. As Thlay-oo, the Little, he waited.

As Thlay-oo, the Invisible, watched Yaeethl for the coming of the maiden. Waited as does the bear for the coming of Takeete, the After Winter. Watched as does the lynx for the young caribou.

And as before came the girl, cup in hand, innocent in her maidenhood, wise in her womanhood, in both beautiful. Gracefully she stooped and filled the cup with the water of the spring. Into the cup floated Yaeethl in the shape of Thlay-oo. In the spring water he sank and lay against the bottom of the cup. Small was Yaeethl, but big with desire for what was within the chest of the Wise Man.

Then the lodge door opened and received the maiden and the cup, received Yaeethl the Grain of Sand, Yaeethl the Raven.

To Yakootsekaya-ka, her father, the girl gave the cup, and the Wise Man drank of the water. Drank, but saw not Yaeethl, the Invisible. To the wife, her mother, the maiden gave the cup, and of the water the Mother drank. Drank, but heard not Yaeethl, the Still. Then the maiden, Ye-see-et, the Virgin, daughter of Yakootsekaya-ka, the Keeper of the Sun, Moon, and Stars, lifted the cup to her lips.

The Mother spoke not. The Father moved not. The Daughter drank.

Past the red of her lips, by the white of her teeth, down the throat of the girl rolled the grain of sand. Rolled until it lay close under her heart, and paused. Under the heart of the maiden lay Yaeethl, waited Yaeethl, grew Yaeethl. Warmed by the heart of the maiden Yaeethl grew.

And time passed.

Then the mother of the maiden, looking upon her daughter, became troubled in her mind. Troubled was the mind of the Mother, but silent her tongue.

And time passed.

Again the Mother looked upon her daughter, and looking, Spoke to the Wise Man, her husband, of the thought that was hers. Spoke she of the troubled thought concerning the maiden, their daughter. When the Mother’s thought was the thought of the Father his heart was filled with anger at his daughter for the disgrace she would bring upon his name. Angrily he questioned her, that he might revenge himself upon the thief of her innocence. But the girl looked into the eyes of her father and denied both thief and theft. No man had she seen save him, her father. Of the cause of The Thought that troubled them was she ignorant, and as innocent as ignorant. And the truth shone from her eyes as she spoke, straight was her tongue. Empty of shame was her face.

And the Mother, looking into the eyes of her daughter, believed. And after a time was the Wise Man convinced. Yet troubled were they and lost upon the trail of thoughts. Tender had they always been of their daughter. Ten times as gentle were they now, for Yaeethl lay big under the heart of the girl, though they knew him not, and of their love was she in sore need.

And time passed.

Then upon the maiden came Kod-se-tee, the Woman Pain, and Yaeethl entered the lodge.

Yaeethl whom they knew not, Yaeethl the Boy in the maiden’s arms. Tokanay, the Baby, they called him, with love-light in their eyes they named him. Strong and large grew he quickly. So quickly grew he that the maiden and her mother were in a valley between the mountain of pride and the mountain of wonder. And in the Wise Man’s heart flowed a great river of love for Tokanay the Beautiful, Tokanay the Swift Growing. In the hands of the Boy were the three hearts held. Their eyes and their thoughts were filled with him, so that room for other things there was not. So was the locked chest and its contents forgotten.

Then on a day, a day of days to the Three, the Boy spoke his first word.

‘Kakoon.’

Kakoon, the Sun, was the word, and ‘Kakoon, Kakoon, Kakoon,’ said the boy, crying and stretching his arms toward the chest in the corner of the lodge.

The Wise Man listened and laughing said: ‘He would take my place as Keeper of the Worlds of Light.’ Then because his heart was so soft with love that he could refuse the Boy nothing, Yakootsekaya-ka undid the many curious locks and fastenings of the great chest and took out the Sun.

Kakoon, the Sun, he took and gave it to the Boy wherewith to play. And the Boy ceased his crying when the Sun was in his hands, laughing as he rolled the Yellow World about the floor of the lodge. All day did the Three watch him with loving eyes.

On the next day the Sun lay in a corner of the lodge, unheeded by the Boy. A new word had he learned:

‘Dis-s.’

Dis-s, the Moon, was the second word, and as before, ‘Dis-s, Dis-s,’ cried the Boy.

Proudly and lovingly the Wise Man laughed, saying: Surely is he eager to take my place. And from the moving of the love in his heart that answered to the cry of the Boy as arrow to bowstring, Yakoot-sekaya-ka unfastened the strong and heavy locks of the chest and into the hands of the Boy gave the Moon for plaything. Of Dis-s, the Moon, made he plaything for the Boy. And for that day were the Boy’s cries hushed as he spun and tumbled the White World on the lodge floor. And his laughter was music to the ears of the Three.

But the next day the Moon lay with the Sun. In the corner they lay and the Boy looked not at them. Another word was his cry, a new word.

‘Takhonaha.’

Takhonaha, the Stars, was the cry of the Boy, and again, to comfort him, the Wise Man opened the great chest, and from it poured the Stars into the lap of the Boy, poured the chest empty of the Worlds of Light. And the Boy laughed loud. Laughed until the Wise Man, the Wife, and the Maiden, his mother, laughed that he laughed, as he dripped the bright stars through his fingers, dripped the waterfall of stars. Then the Wise Man questioned as he laughed: What shall he cry for tomorrow? And what shall we give him, the Unsatisfied, now that the chest is empty?

And the Boy laughed.

Night came, and the Wise Man, and his Wife, and the Maiden-Mother, their daughter, slept. With Tokanay, the Baby, in the hollow of her arm slept the girl.

As they slept, from the hollow of the arm of the maiden there crept a raven-, Yaeethl the Raven, Yaeethl the Snow-White, Yaeethl the Father of Thieves.

Softly crept he, with many times turned head and watchful eye on the Three, sleeping. To the corner where the Boy, careless, had dropped the Shining Worlds, to the corner by the open, empty chest crept Yaeethl the Noiseless.

And the Three slept.

Beneath his right wing hid Yaeethl the Sun. Beneath his left wing hid he the Moon. Within his claws gathered he the Stars.

Asleep were the Three.

The lodge door was closed, locked was the door of Yakootsekaya-ka, Keeper of the Worlds of Light. Fastened tight were the windows. Barred were door and windows to keep out Yaeethl, the Thief. For a moment stood Yaeethl, turning his head to find some hole through which he might escape, then toward the wide chimney he flew.

Still slept the Three.

Wide spread were the wings of Yaeethl, the Flying, and the great light of the Sun was uncovered. Brightly it shone, straight into the eyes of the Wise Man gleamed the fierce light.

Awake was Yakootsekaya-ka, crying: Yaeethl! Yaeethl! ‘Tis Yaeethl! Awake!

Awake was the Wife and the Daughter, and the Three strove to catch the Raven, the White One. But the great light of the Sun was in their eyes and they were blinded so they fell in each other’s way. And in the throat of the chimney was Yaeethl, flying up ward.

Then did the Wise Man call upon Kahn, his sister’s son, Kahn, the God of Fire, to aid him. Up blazed Kahn and tried to catch Yaeethl, the Fleeing, in his red teeth, but near the top of the chimney was Yaeethl, so that the teeth of Kahn could not reach him.

Then Kahn called upon the Wise Man to blow, and the Wise Man puffed out his cheeks and blew with full lungs, and by his blowing Kahn stretched high his long black arms and tightly curled them about the White Raven.

Then did Yaeethl, the Strong of Wing, struggle mightily. Against Kahn, the Fire God, did he struggle, beating with his white wings. Long did they struggle, until from the lungs of the Wise Man was the breath gone, and the arms of the Fire God, the smoke arms, grew thin and weak.

With his wings beat Yaeethl, breaking the hold of the smoke arms, Yaeethl the Free, Yaeethl the Ever Black One.

Forever were the wings and feathers of the Raven blackened by the smoke arms of Kahn, the God of Fire.

Back toward Klingatona-Kla, the Earth Mother, the Barren, flew Yaeethl holding tight the Sun, Moon, and Stars. But after him came the Wise Man, full of anger. And the Shining Worlds grew heavy. Heavy was the pack of Yaeethl, and weary his wings. Afar off was Klingatona-Kla.

Then did Yaeethl, the Pursued, Yaeethl the Heavy Laden, cast from him Kakoon, the Sun. To the east threw he the Sun, and flew on.

Again did the Wise Man come close behind, and again did Yaeethl ease his burden. From hi threw he Dis-s, the Moon. To the West cast he the Moon.

Then was Yakootsekaya-ka left behind for a time, but the Raven weary and burdened, flew slowly, and once again he felt the breath of the Wise Man ruffle his feathers. No time had Yaeethl to stop, on nothing could he rest.

Opened he his claws and scattered wide the Stars. To North and South fell Takhonaha, the Stars, to East and West fell they.

Then was the promise of Yaeethl fulfilled. Thus kept he his word to the Earth Mother, and gave her light, that she might see. Gave her Kayah, the Light, to father her children and wipe out the disgrace of her barrenness. And the children of Klingatona-Kla were as the sands of the sea.

But upon Yaeethl, the Raven, had fallen the curses of the Wise Man. Three curses: Blackness, Hoarseness, and the Keeping of One Shape. And as his feathers were blackened, so, thereafter, was his heart darkened with eternal selfishness.

The Doom of the Katt-a-Quins

The Katt-a-quin family, led by their malevolent chief, terrorized their Tlingit community in ancient times. Their cruelty extended to both people and animals, causing widespread fear and resentment. One day, after sabotaging their neighbors’ berry harvest, the Katt-a-quins were mysteriously transformed into stone as a divine punishment for their misdeeds, serving as an enduring reminder of the consequences of malevolence.

Source:
The Doom of the Katt-a-Quins
– from the aboriginal folk-lore
of Southern Alaska –
by James Deans
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.5, No.18, pp.232-235
July-September, 1892

► Themes of the story

Community and Isolation: The family’s malicious actions lead to their social ostracization, highlighting the dynamics between belonging and estrangement within the tribe.

Conflict with Authority: The Katt-a-quin family’s defiance against communal norms and their disruptive behavior can be seen as a challenge to the established order and leadership within the society.

Moral Lessons: The tale serves as a cautionary story, imparting ethical teachings about the consequences of malevolent behavior and the importance of harmony within the community.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

Katt-a-quin was a chief among the Tlingit. He lived very long ago, our fathers tell us, so long that no man can count the time by moons nor by snows, but by generations. He was a bad man, the worst that ever lived among our people. Not only were he himself and his wife bad, but the whole family were like him.

They were feared and shunned by every one, even by little children, who would run away screaming when any of the family came near. Nothing seemed to give them so much pleasure as the suffering of other people. Dogs they delighted to torture, and tore their young ones to pieces. Most persons love and fondle a nice, fat little puppy, but not so the Katt-a-quin family; when they got a nice puppy it was soon destroyed by hunger and ill-usage.

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When the people met their neighbors from above, at Shakes-heit, if Katt-a-quin came there, he generally spoiled the market, and if he could not get what he wanted by fair means, he would take it by force. The people, seeing this, would pack up and leave. So tired had they grown of the family, that the rest of the tribe had decided to make them all leave the village, or, failing in that, endeavor to get clear of them by some other means. But before doing anything of that sort, they were delivered in a way terrible and unthought of. From old versions of the story, it appears that the people had become so disgusted with the family that when they wished to go hunting, or to gather wild fruit, they would strictly conceal their object and the direction of their journey from those whom they disliked.

One morning, while all were staying at Shakes-heit, they made up their minds to go to the large flat where these rocks stand, and lay in a stock of wild fruits for winter use. So in order that none of the Katt-a-quin might come, they all left early and quietly. When the others got up, which was far from early, as they were a lazy lot, and found that they were left alone, they were displeased at not being asked to go along with the others. After a time they all got into a canoe, and went up the river in order to find the rest, which after a while they did, by finding their canoes hauled up on shore.

After this they also landed, and began to pluck berries; but finding that the people who preceded them had got the best of the fruit, they gave up picking in disgust, and were seated on the shore when the others returned, having, as might be expected, plenty of fine fruit. Seeing that the rest had a fine supply, and they themselves nothing but sour, unripe stuff, they asked for a few, which the others gave them; at the same time saying that they should not be so lazy, as they might also have got their share of good ones. After a while, the old fellow demanded more of the best fruit; this the people flatly refused, saying that the late comers ought to go picking for themselves.

Just then a number of the first party, who had gone in another direction, returned with baskets full of nice, large, and ripe fruit. Seeing this, the whole family of the Katt-a-quins went and demanded the whole; this the others refused, saying they had no idea of toiling all day gathering fruit for such a worthless, lazy set as they were. A scuffle began, which ended in the family upsetting all the fruit, and trampling it under foot in the sand, thus destroying the proceeds of a long and hard day’s work.

Seeing all this, the people made a rush, some for their bows and arrows, others arming themselves with whatever came to hand, all determined to wreak vengeance on those who had caused the destruction of their day’s labor, and whom all disliked.

Seeing this turn of affairs, and the determination of the people, the offenders knew that their only safety lay in getting aboard their canoe, and going down the river before the others could follow them. This they did, leaving in their hurry one or two of their children behind them. But a new and terrible retribution awaited them. When they reached the middle, Yehl or Yethel, who had been watching their conduct, turned them in an instant to these stones, and placed them where they now stand, to be an eternal warning to evil-doers. The largest one is Katt-a-quin. The next is his wife, and the small stones in the land and in the water, his children. What is seen is only their bodies; their souls, which can never die, went to Seewuck-cow, there to remain for ages, or until such time as they have made reparation for the evil done while in the body. After this they will ascend to Seewuck-cow, a better land. Such was the doom of the Katt-a-quins. As our fathers told the story to us, said the Tlingit, so I tell it to you.

Kanuk

The story of Kanuk, a hero and ancestor of the Tlingit Wolf tribe, portrays him as an eternal being residing on Tikenum Island. He encounters El, another ancient entity, and demonstrates his superiority by conjuring a dense fog. Inviting El to his home, Kanuk guards a precious well of fresh water. El, transformed into a crow, attempts to steal the water but is thwarted, resulting in the crow’s black coloration.

Source:
Tlingit Myths
by Frank Alfred Golder
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
vol.20, no.79, pp. 290-295
October-December, 1907

► Themes of the story

Creation: The narrative delves into primordial times, discussing the origins of the world and the establishment of natural elements, such as fresh water.

Trickster: El employs cunning tactics to deceive Kanuk, including placing dung around him to create a distraction and attempting to steal water in the guise of a crow.

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for the crow’s black coloration, attributing it to El’s actions and subsequent punishment by Kanuk.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

Kanuk, the hero and ancestor of the Wolf tribe of the Tlingit, is represented as a mysterious and eternal being, older and more powerful than El. Once upon a time Kanuk lived on a treeless island, Tikenum — sea-fortress — not far from Cape Ommaney. On that island is a small, square, stone well of fresh water, covered with a stone. Inside the well, on the stone, is a narrow horizontal line of a different color than the rest. This mark dates from the time, and indicates the quantity of water El drank and stole out of the well. The well is known as Kanuk’s Well, because formerly, when there was no fresh water elsewhere on the earth, Kanuk kept it in the well and guarded it jealously; he even built a barrabara over it and slept on the cover of the well.

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One time Kanuk, while out at sea in his canoe, met El there in his canoe and asked him, “Have you been living long in this world?”

“I was born,” said El, “before the earth was in its present place; and have you been living here long?”

“Since the time when the liver came out from below,” said Kanuk.

“Yes,” said El, “you are older than I.”

While continuing their conversation, they went farther and farther from the shore, and Kanuk, thinking it a good time to demonstrate his strength and superiority, took off his hat and put it behind himself; instantly such a thick fog appeared that one, sitting in one end of a canoe, could not see the other end. During that time Kanuk paddled away from his companion. El, unable to see Kanuk, and not knowing which way to go, began to cry to him, “Achkani, Achkani,” but Kanuk made no answer; he called many times with the same result; finally, El, weeping, implored Kanuk to come to him. Kanuk then coming up to him, said, “What are you crying about?” Saying this, he put on his hat and the fog raised.

“Nu Achkani (my father-in-law and brother-in-law), you are stronger than I,” said El.

After this Kanuk invited El to go home with him to his island; there they refreshed themselves, and fresh water was one of the many things that El had. It tasted so sweet and good that he could not get enough to satisfy him, and he was too bashful to ask for more. When dinner was over, El commenced to tell about his origin and the history of the world. At first Kanuk listened attentively, then drowsily, and at last fell into a sound sleep in his usual place on the cover of the well. While he was sleeping El quietly placed some dung under and around Kanuk, and then going outside, called, “Achkani, wake up, look around you; you are, it seems, not well.”

Kanuk woke up and felt around, and believing what El said, ran to the beach to wash himself. In the mean time El pushed the cover oil the well, and drank all the water he could, and, changing to a crow, tilled his bill with water and started to fly out by way of the chimney, but was mysteriously held back when almost at the top. Kanuk, returning from his wash, made a fire, and began smoking his guest until he turned black. This explains why the crow, who was formerly white, is now black. Finally Kanuk, pitying El, let him go, and he (El) flew away to his earth, and dripped the water on it, as was mentioned before.

El

The greater part of the Tlingit recognize as the Supreme Being a deity by the name of El. El, in their belief, is all powerful; he created everything in the world: the earth, human beings, and vegetation. He obtained the sun, moon, and stars. He loves people, but often, in his anger, sends on them epidemics and misfortunes. El existed before he was born; he neither ages nor will ever die. His home is in the interior of North America. He has a son, but the circumstances and time of his birth are not known. The son loves people more than El, and often by interceding with the father delivers them from his anger. El’s life, words, and deeds while among the people constitute the Golden Rule of the Tlingit. “Just as El lived and acted, so we live,” say the Tlingit.

Source:
Tlingit Myths
by Frank Alfred Golder
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
vol.20, no.79, pp. 290-295
October-December, 1907

► Themes of the story

Creation: El is credited with creating the earth, humans, and vegetation, highlighting the theme of how the world or life began.

Divine Intervention: El, as an all-powerful deity, influences mortal affairs by sending epidemics and misfortunes in anger, demonstrating the gods’ influence on human lives.

Eternal Life and Mortality: El is described as existing before birth, never aging, and being immortal, contrasting with human mortality.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about Tlingit people

There was a time, say the followers of El, when there was no light, and all the people lived and moved in the darkness. At that time lived a certain man who had a wife and a sister. He loved his wife to such an extent that he would not allow her to do any kind of work; and she spent the day cither sitting in the house, or sunning herself on the hillock outside. She had eight little red birds, four on each side of her, who were always near her, and who would instantly leave her if there was any familiarity between her and any man except her husband. Of such a jealous disposition was her husband, that, whenever he went away, he locked her in a chest. Every day he went to the forest, where he made boats and canoes, being very proficient in such work.

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His sister, who was called Kitchuginsi (daughter of a sea-swallow), had several sons (it is not known by whom); but the jealous uncle, as soon as they reached manhood, destroyed them. Some say that he took them out to sea and drowned them; but others say that he scaled them up in a hollow log. The helpless mother could only weep for her children. One day when she was sitting on the beach, mourning over a son, who disappeared in the usual way, she saw a school of small whales passing by, and one of them coming in closer, stopped and started a conversation with her. When he had learned the cause of her grief, he told her to throw herself into the sea and from the bottom bring up a pebble, swallow it, and wash it down with a little sea-water. So soon as the whale departed, Kitchuginsi went down to the bottom of the sea, fetched up a small pebble, swallowed it, and drank some sea-water. The effect of this extraordinary dose was that she conceived, and in eight months gave birth to a son, whom she considered an ordinary mortal, but he was El. Kitchuginsi, before giving birth to El, hid herself away from her brother in a secret place.

When El began to grow up, his mother made him a bow and arrows and instructed him in the use of them. El liked this kind of exercise, and soon became such an excellent shot that not a bird could fly by him; and from the hummingbirds alone that he killed his mother made herself a parka; and to fully indulge his passion for the chase he made a hunting-barrabara. Sitting there one morning in the early dawn, he saw that directly in front of his door sat a large bird resembling a magpie, with a long tail and a long and thin bill, bright and strong as iron. El killed her instantly and carefully skinned her, as is usually done for stuffing, and put the skin on himself. He had no sooner done this when he felt the desire and ability to fly, and immediately flew up, and soared so high and with such a force that his bill pierced into the clouds, and he was held there so strongly that with difficulty he extricated himself. After that he flew back to his barrabara, took off his skin and hid it. At another time and in the same manner he killed a duck, and, taking off her skin, put it on his mother, who instantly received the ability to swim.

When El reached full growth, his mother told him of all his uncle’s doings. El, as soon as he heard about them, went to his uncle’s, and at the time when he is usually at his work. Going into the barrabara, he opened the chest in which his uncle’s wife was kept, and debauched her; the birds instantly deserted her. The uncle, returning from his work and seeing all that happened, became extremely angry; but El sat very quietly and did not even move from his place. Then the uncle, calling him outside, seated himself with him in a canoe, and went with him to a place where many sea-monsters gathered; there he threw him into the sea, and thought that he had again got rid of a rival. But El walked on the bottom of the sea till he came to the shore, and reappeared before his uncle.

The uncle, seeing that he could not destroy his nephew in the usual way, said, in his anger: “Let there be a flood.” The sea began to overflow its banks and rose higher and higher. El put on his magpie skin and flew up into the clouds, and, as before, pierced them with his bill, and hung there suspended until the water, which had covered all the mountains, even reaching so high that his tail and wings were wet, subsided entirely. He then began to descend as lightly as a feather, and thinking, “Ah, if I could only drop on some good place,” and he dropped there where the sun goes down. But he fell not on land, but into the sea, on the kelp; from there a sea-otter brought him safely away. Others say that he fell on the Queen Charlotte Islands, and. taking in his bill chips of the fir-tree, flew away to other islands, and where he dropped the chips there trees grow; and when he did not there they are not.

On coming to land again after the flood, El went towards the east, and in one place finding some dead boys, brought them to life by tickling them in the nose with hair which he had pulled out from a certain woman; in another place he set the sea-gull and heron to quarrel, and in this manner obtained a smelt fish which he afterwards exchanged for a canoe and other things. But of all his adventures and doings, which are so numerous that it is impossible for one man to know them all, the most remarkable is the way he obtained the light.

At the time when the above-mentioned wonders were worked there was no light on the earth; it was in the possession of a rich and powerful chief, being kept in three small boxes, which he guarded jealously and did not permit any one even to touch them. El, learning this, wished above all things to obtain the light, and he obtained it.

That chief had an only daughter, a virgin, whom he loved dearly, indulged, and tended, even to the extent of carefully examining her food and drink before she used it. There was no other way to obtain the light from the chief except by becoming his grandson, and El concluded to be born of his daughter. To accomplish his end was not difficult for him; since he could assume the shape of any object that he desired, — birds, fish, grass, etc., appearing as crow the oftenest, however. In this case he changed himself into a tiny piece of grass, and stuck to the side of the cup out of which the chief’s daughter drank, and when she, after the usual examination, began drinking, it slid down her throat. Small though it was, she felt that she had swallowed something, and she tried hard but unsuccessfully to bring it up. The result, of all this was that she conceived; and, when the time came around for her to give birth, the chief ordered to be placed under her sea-otter skins and other valuable things. But the woman could not give birth, although her father and others assisted her in every known way. Finally a very old woman took her into the forest, where she made a bed of moss for her under a tree and laid her on it; and just as soon as she lay on it she gave birth to a son.

No one even suspected that the new-born child was El; the grandfather was delighted with his grandson, and loved him even more than his daughter. One day, after El commenced to understand a little, he set up a loud bawl and no one nor anything could quiet him. No matter what was given him, he threw it away and cried louder than before, and kept reaching out and pointing to the three little boxes which contained the heavenly lights. They could not be given to him without the permission of the chief, and he would not for a long time consent; at last he was obliged to give the boy one of the boxes. He immediately me quiet and happy, and began playing with it. A little later he took it out-of-doors, and, when unobserved, opened it and instantly stars appeared in the sky. Seeing this, the chief regretted the loss of treasure, but he did not reprove the boy. In the same cunning manner El obtained the second box, in which the moon was kept, and opened it; he even cried for the last and most precious box, containing the sun. The chief would not indulge him any longer; El did not leave off crying and bawling, refused to eat and drink, and consequently became ill. To humor him, the tender grandfather gave him the last box too, and ordered that he be watched and prevented from opening it; but El, as soon as he came outside, changed himself into a crow, flew away with the box, and appeared on the earth.

In passing over one place, El heard human voices, but could see no one; for the sun was not yet. El asked them: “Who are you; and would you like to have light?” “You are deceiving us,” they said; “you are not El, who is the only one that can make light.” To convince the unbelievers, El opened the box, and at once the sun in all his splendor appeared in the sky. At this sight the people scattered themselves in all directions, some to the forests and became beasts, others to the trees and became birds, still others to the waters and became fishes.

There was no fire on the earth, but on an island in the mid-sea. Thither El, dressed in his magpie skin, flew, and snatching a live brand, he hastened back. But the distance was so great that by the time the mainland was reached the brand and half of his bill were nearly consumed. Near the shore he dropped the brand, and the sparks were blown on to the rocks and trees. This explains why fire is found in these substances.

Until El’s time there was no fresh water on the mainland and islands, with one exception. On this island, situated not far from Cape Ommaney, was a small well of fresh water guarded by Kanuk, the hero and ancestor of the Wolf tribe of the Tlingit. El went over there, and taking in his bill as much water as it would hold, and after suffering racking tortures, flew back to the mainland of America. While flying over the earth, the water dripped on the land; where small drops fell springs and creek appeared, and the larger drops formed lakes and rivers.

At last El, providing the people with all the necessaries, went to his home, Nasshakiel, which is inaccessible both to men and spirits, as is shown from the following. One daring spirit undertook to go there, and as a punishment had his left side turned to stone; for in flying forward he looked on the left side where El’s palace was. The left side of the spirit’s mask, which was at the time in possession of the shaman at Chilkat, also became stone.

Origin of a low-caste name

In a northern village, hunters discovered a mute boy on the rocks and took him in. He exhibited destructive behavior, breaking tools, damaging clothing, and causing trouble. Unable to manage him, the villagers returned him to the rock where he was found. Afterward, the weather improved, leading them to believe he was a “rock-man’s son.”

Source:
Tlingit Myths and Texts
by John R. Swanton
[Smithsonian Institution]
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 39
Washington, 1909

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The narrative explains the origin of a low-caste name within the Tlingit culture.

Conflict with Nature: The boy’s presence is associated with adverse weather conditions, such as persistent rain, suggesting a struggle against natural forces.

Community and Isolation: The boy’s inability to integrate into the community and his eventual return to isolation on the rocks highlight themes of belonging and estrangement.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about the Tlingit people

The story was obtained at Wrangell.

There was a certain village in the north from which the people were fond of going hunting. By and by three men went out, and finally came to the rocks among which they always hunted. After they reached the rocks they saw a little boy. Then they took him aboard, thinking it was strange that be should be there. When they spoke to him he did not reply. After that they came home. They kept him as their friend. Whenever they gave him something to eat he ate nothing. Only after everyone had gone to bed did he eat. Whatever thing he touched would spill on him. He was whimsical and they could do nothing with him. He was also lazy. When he was asked to chop wood he broke all of their stone axes. The axes were then valuable. Then the people who had kept him were very sorry. When he played with the children he hurt them badly.

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Afterward the people who kept him would have to pay for the injuries. If he made something with a knife he would break it. Right after a skin shirt had been put upon him it was in rags. If shoes were put on his feet they were soon in pieces. He drank a great deal of water. He was a great eater. He was a dirty little fellow. He was a crybaby. If they gave him anything to take to another place he lost it. So he made a great deal of trouble for the people.

Then they said of him, “He is really a man of the rocks.” All the town people agreed to take him back to the place where he had been found. After he had been brought in it was very rainy. Then the people who had saved him got into their canoe and carried him back. They put him on the very same rock from which they had taken him. Then they went back. They reached home. The world was now calm. The rain also had ceased. Then the town people were all talking about it. They said to one another, “What could it have been?” and no one knew. Finally the town people said, “Don’t you see it was a rock-man’s son?”

Story of the Ka’cke Qoan

This is a Tlingit legend about a group who, after a dispute over a valuable dish, decide to leave their village. Numbering around forty, they journey toward a distant mountain, enduring hardships like fog and treacherous terrain. Upon reaching the mountain’s base, they ascend a glacier, donning their finest attire, and eventually discover the sea. Settling near a river’s mouth, they establish a new town, claiming the mountain as their crest to honor their perilous journey.

Source:
Tlingit Myths and Texts
by John R. Swanton
[Smithsonian Institution]
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 39
Washington, 1909

► Themes of the story

Quest: The group’s journey over the mountain in search of a new home.

Conflict with Nature: Their struggle against natural elements, such as the fog and the treacherous mountain terrain.

Loss and Renewal: The loss of their members and the subsequent establishment of a new settlement.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about the Tlingit people

This story was told by a man named Qa’dustin, who belongs to the same family, and therefore contains some of the peculiarities of Yakutat speech. The story was obtained at Sitka.

Ltaxda’x was dead. He had a valuable copper, and he also had a dish named Tsanatu’k. When he was dead they took his property out. Those of the house in which these people lived who obtained the dish got into trouble over it. Whoever had a sister told her to go with him. “Let us go to some other place,” he said. The people that went away were from that side of the house from which the dish was taken away. They were sad on that account. Probably they numbered about forty. They said, “Let us go straight for that mountain.” Whoever had three brothers took them along to carry things for him. After that, they came out under the brow of the big mountain. On the way they dressed themselves in their fine clothing, some in weasel-skin coats, some in marten-skin coats, and they wore hats also because they wanted to die wearing them. Not very many came away. Many more stayed up there than came out. When they got up to the foot of the mountain they came together to talk over where they should pass through.

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They came to a place where there were many ground squirrels, which they clubbed. This is why it became foggy. They lost one another in it, and some of them disappeared. It was the fog that they got lost in. Then they let them (those who had disappeared) go. After that they made good headway toward the place whither they were bound. There appeared no place to get through. The mountain seemed to be very close to them.

By and by they came to the very foot of the mountain. There was no place where they could get through. But through the northern part of the mountain passed a glacier, and they went up that way toward the top. They thought that they were all going to die off when they reached the top. They did not come to the highest summit of the mountain, however. Then they put on all of their best clothing for good. They stayed there perhaps five days. They were now going to start on singing the song that they had sung when they left home. The morning of the day after, they started away. And they started the song they used to sing up on Copper river. At that time they wore nose pins. When they were about to start from that place they put on weasel hats and coats. All mourned together over the friends they had left behind and over those who had been lost in the fog. When they were through mourning they arose and started off.

The Athapascans did not know about the sea, and they called one another together. They said, “What is that so very blue?” They said, “Let us go down to it. We have saved ourselves,” they said. Coming to the lower end of the glacier, they traveled very fast down to the sea. They crossed a river boiling out from under the mountain and almost as large as Copper river. They went down to the sea alongside of the big river. Afterward they stayed down there at the mouth of that river. The first thing they did there was to claim the big mountain [as a crest], because they were the first to pass through it. When winter began to come on they built a house beside the river. They named it Mountain house because they had nearly lost their lives on that mountain. This is why they so named it. They stayed right there in that house, and the settlement grew into a town.

Then the Ca’dadux [this seems to have been the ancient name of the family] grew strong. They were the ones who built Mountain house. After they had been there ten years one person began living away from town in order to make the frame of a skin boat.

A woman named Kwade’lta reared a young sea gull. The sea gull did not grow large. All at once she did something to it that made it grow as large as an eagle. It began to grow big. Now it was almost as large as a house. When it got large she wanted to take it among her playmates. Her brothers, however, wanted to kill it. When she was playing with it the sea gull swam out of the mouth of the river. She also disappeared. She started after it. They used the song that they came out with over her. The song is a hard one, having all kinds of notes.

Then the man sent off six of his nephews. He told them to go along shore in the canoe he had made, to search for people. When the weather was very good they started off. They came down this way to a place opposite Yakutat. There they discovered eulachon and a fish called ka’gan. These were in a creek. They put a small net into it to catch the eulachon, and they put the ka’gan into a small cooking basket while they were still alive. They offended them, however, by laughing at them. Just as day broke, they started off. When they got out on the sea there came up a south wind, so that they could not go anywhere. They came right back to their starting point, and their skin canoe was broken. One of them went under it and was killed. They stayed there. Probably they were there for twenty-one days. Then the weather became fair. Meanwhile they lived upon ka’gan and eulachon. When it was good weather they again started off.

At that time the people got over to Yakutat. There were many people in the town, some called Koske’di, Some luqoe’di, who refused to let them remain, though they told them truly how they had come out from behind the mountain. They were there for some time. Then they started back to their own place. They came again to the place where their canoe had been broken and remained there for one night. Again they went out. They spent the night in their canoe. Then they came ashore. When they reached the foot of the big mountain they were told that a little girl had been given the name of the woman who followed the sea gull out.

This little girl went out to dig roots and dug up a red thing. The thing she dug up was quite long. So they made this into a dish like the one that had been taken away from them. After this dish had been finished they beat the drums for the girl who had followed out the sea gull. At that time a song was composed in remembrance of her. The people remained there one year after the six men had gotten back. Then the ninth month was beginning to come on. At that time a skin canoe came in sight from the direction of Copper river. It was bound southward. The people were called in, and they came, ashore there. These were Ka’gwantan from the mouth of Copper river. They called them into the house and gave them food.

After they had fed them, six brothers went hunting with dogs, and the youngest killed nothing. They always put up a great quantity of food, and carried it around with them. By and by all rushed after mountain sheep on top of the mountains. Their brother-in-law also went along with them. One of them (the youngest) in chasing the mountain sheep went astray in front of a cliff. It was toward evening. He was shaking all over. When it was almost evening the mountain sheep rushed toward him. Their leader went to him and took him on its horns. It ran away with him and made him stand up on a place to one side. Then the people started down. They went down without hunting any more. When they got down on the beach they started home for Yakutat.

Now the six brothers started on a journey for the place whence they had all come out. Their uncle told them to go back for a copper plate which was in a valley called Ltaxe’n, leading down to Copper river. They did not want to leave it there because it was valuable. When the people first came out, it took them forty days and nights, but the young men took only twenty days and nights. They got back among their friends. When they came among their friends again these, wept with them and did not want them to return. But after they had stayed there for some time they went to the valley where was the copper plate. Since they had left their friends no one had been to the valley. The real owner of it, too, was dead. They reached the opposite side of that valley. When they got there they saw the copper, which was very long. It also had eyes and hands. The copper was pointing its hands in the direction whither its friends had gone. They cut it in two in the middle and took it apart. Then all six of them carried it. Their friends did not bother them about it at all. They started back. Again they traveled for twenty days, and came down to the ocean once more.

At that time all the people started for Yakutat. They started off with the copper that the six men had brought out. Again they came out to the place where their canoe had been broken up. They camped there one night. From there they started across to Yakutat. They came ashore there. Then the people did not want to have them there. The Koske’di did not want to let them stay. They discovered Duqdane’ku (one of the new arrivals) coming from a small stream called Kack with some humpbacks be had speared. When the Koske’di saw him coming with a string of humpbacks they cut the string on which they were hung. They also broke his spear. Then the people were grieved over what had been done to him. They called one another together about it and thought it best to buy the place and pay for it once for all. So they bought the place. The six brothers were the ones who got it. They bought it for the copper plate, which was worth ten slaves, and sent the Koske’di away. Afterward things were compared to the six Athapascan brothers [because they were very fast runners]. They stayed here probably twenty years. Meanwhile the Koske’di and luqoe’di left the place. They were the only ones there. There were no other Athapascans at that place.

One of these brothers slept too much and became lazy. In olden times people went hunting with dogs. The six went hunting and camped in a house near a mountain. Afterward they went away from the youngest. One night while he was sleeping they went away from him hunting, because he was lazy. They went away to find out what he could do. They camped away from him for two nights. Meanwhile he slept very soundly. He dreamed that a man came to him and said, “I come to help you. Come down here by the salmon creek and vomit.” Immediately he went down to the creek and vomited four times. While he was vomiting, he vomited up a salmon bone. “This is what makes you lazy,” be said to him. “This is what you are eating all the time, the salmon people’s toilet sticks. This is what makes you lazy.” The one that helped him was the being of the mountain. The mountain being said, “Come with me this evening.” Immediately he went with him. When they got far up, the doors into the mountain were all opened. Then he went down with him inside. There were rooms inside of the mountain for all things. In the first were grizzly bears, in the next black bears, in the next mountain sheep. All things were inside.

After they had stayed away two days his brothers came back for him. Their brother was not there, and they felt very sorry. They thought that he was dead. Then they floated down, laying the blame on one another. When they reached home there were other people in the town. These were the Te’qoedi who had come up from Prince of Wales island to the south.

The mountain being told the man he had taken how he could find the holes of grizzly bears in winter. Whatever he wished was killed for him inside of the mountain. While he was there winter began to come on. Then spring was coming. [The being] said to him, “Be careful not to use green fern roots for they are my things. If you are not careful about it you will kill nothing. Watch for the green fern roots. They grow wherever there are grizzly bears. The green fern roots will be found growing below. You will kill more things than your brothers. Tomorrow you go away. I will give you my canoe which is here. In it you will float out among your friends.” What he called one night was a whole month. Months kept on and on for him, however. His mind began to be troubled on account of it.

By and by they began to make things ready for him. They dried all kinds of things for him. Then he started away. [The being] said to him, “It is well that you come now and see my canoe which you are going to take among your friends.” He took him thither. It looked like a grizzly bear. What was there about it like a canoe? “The things you see inside are this canoe’s food. When it is hungry it will always look back. If you do not give it anything it will eat you. It gets hungry quickly,” said the mountain being. “Go on now.”

It went down the river. They had loaded the canoe with mountain-sheep’s fat and all kinds of fat. There came a time when it acted as he had said. It started to turn back. When it began to swim around quickly he gave it one whole mountain sheep. Already he was close to his home. When it started ashore with him in front of the town he began to feed it so that it would not kill any person. His friends ran down opposite him. They saw their friend who had been long lost. It came ashore with him a short distance from the town. When he got close to the shore he took his canoe up quickly, and it became a stone. Where it had turned around the river became crooked. They called it River-the-stone-canoe-came-down-through.

Then the man who used to sleep so much was ready to hunt. The man that had been lazy always went by himself. Just at the head of Kack is a glacier. There is a cottonwood tree standing there, rather old inside. When it is going to be stormy a noise is heard inside of this. Then people do not cross that glacier. When no noise can be heard inside then they go up across. The youngest killed more things than his brothers. He always took around bow and arrows with him. They are called dina’. They all went in one canoe up to this glacier where was the seals’ home. When they came up there, plenty of seals were around that place. There were plenty of grizzly bears and mountain sheep alongside of the glacier. The youngest would say to those with him, “There is a bear hole up there.” Then they made a hunting house in one place. They took the canoe far up. After that, a large piece of ice fell and raised a swell that carried their canoe off. They were in want of provisions. Their food was quickly gone. This happened in the Snow-shoveling moon (November). It was always blowing so that they could not get home. There was a cliff at that place. Already two months had passed over them. They could not see a canoe coming from any place, and they were living by the skill of the man whom the mountain being had saved.

When they became discouraged they made steps across the glacier. In one place was a precipice, and they had a hard struggle. They left one of their brothers in front of the cliff. He had become dizzy. So they left him. They came among trees after they had left him. He suffered very much from the cold. They, however, came upon a red-cedar house. They used a fire drill. Already it smoked. Then the fire came quickly out of the red cedar, and they sat by the fire without food. Day came without their brother having died.

Now they made fun of their youngest brother. “Where is the being that helped you? Didn’t you say that you could kill anything?” Then he became angry at the way they talked about him. He started off aimlessly. When he started he did just as the mountain being had directed him. Then he saw their white dog that used to go everywhere with them. He saw the little dog running up. He looked toward it. He saw that a mountain sheep was holed in there for the winter. Before he could believe it he heard the little dog bark. The mountain sheep had very large horns. He ran his spear into it just once and killed it. Not knowing what he should do, he squeezed himself in beside it. He cut open the animal, which was very large. This was the mother of the bears. He cut off only the fat from around its stomach. It was of the thickness of two fingers. Then he ran down to his brothers with it. That made them feel lively and drove away all their hunger. Then they brought down all of the parts. After they had brought everything down into the house they started back to hunt for their brother, but the wolf people had taken him. When the canoe that was hunting for them came outside they did not have much food left. They let their brother go, for they could not find him. They started to the town, and they got home. Then they stayed right where they were because something was always happening to them.

Afterward they started down in this direction with their brother-in-law, whose name was Heavy-wings. They started this way and came out here. He had a daughter. They came to Kastaxe’xda. Their daughter was grown up, but no man had ever seen her. Then they were going to Auk, but could not reach it on account of a storm. Heavy-wings had many nephews. They had some eulachon grease inside a sea-lion stomach, which they would throw on the fire whenever they made one. After that they said something to anger the north wind. On account of the north wind they had already been there for two months, and the food in the sea-lion’s stomach that they thought would never be used up, was quickly consumed. Already only half of a piece of dried fish was left and the north wind was still blowing hard. They had already consumed everything. One night, when they went to bed, they could not sleep for thinking about their condition, but toward morning all except Heavy-wings fell asleep. When he at last fell asleep he dreamed a man came to him. It was a fine-looking man that came to him. It was North Wind that he dreamed of. [The man] said to him,” Give me your daughter. Then you will seethe place you are bound for.” But he did not believe his dream. In the morning he said, “One does not follow the directions of a dream.” His wife, however, said, “It is not right to disbelieve what the dream says.” His wife was angry with him. She said, “Why then did you tell your dream to me? This is why I am talking to you so.” Next morning they went down to dig clams, but his nephews kept very silent as if they were thinking about themselves. When they were about to go to bed their fire was heard [the fire being a medium of communication between the two worlds]. Four days later he dreamed North Man came to him again. “Give me your daughter quickly if you want to see the place whither you are bound.” In the morning he said to his wife, “Had I not better obey my dream?” and he said to his nephew, “Go outside and shout, ‘I give my daughter to you.’”

Then the North Wind came to his daughter. “It is well that I marry you,” he said to her, and he slept with her. She was willing to cohabit with him. Then he did so, and it became calm. So they started off. Afterward the woman told her mother about it. “A fine man keeps coming tome.” They started to cross the bay. Then this fine man came to her again. Cruor eius defluebat e rostro in puppim, de qua depletus est. Undae, ubi effusus erat, semper clarae erant. Now they came ashore. This is why people keep saving to one another, “Did you give your daughter to North Wind that you are not afraid of all the weather in the world?” He came ashore and stayed among the people.

That winter the people going for firewood went away forever. When they were gone, Heavy-wing’s wife’s labret broke and he went after one. He went along, the shore. He kept chopping into things to find the hard part of the tree. Then he saw a woman digging far down on the beach. She had a child on her back. He said, “Some one might think I was fooling with her.” When he came up close to her, he saw that she was not a woman such as he had been in the habit of seeing. It was the le’naxi’daq that he saw. The mussel shells that she threw up always fitted together.

Then he went out after her to the place where she was digging. Without thinking of anything else he ran to her and caught her. His hands passed right through her body. He chased her and seized her again. Again his hands passed through her. When he got close up to the trees he remembered his earrings. He threw them away. Afterward he chased her once more. He seized the child on her back, and she immediately began to cry out. She scratched him in the face. She made great marks upon him. When he caught her he said within himself, “May I be a rich man. May all the children that come after me catch you.” But he made a mistake in speaking, for he said, “Let me burst open with riches.” After he had chased her a short distance up into the woods she sat down in front of him. There the woman defecated. When she got up there was only foam to be seen. Her excrement was very long and white. Then he took the foam and put it into a piece of paper. He made a box for the foam. The scabs from his face were called Medicine-to-rub-on-the-body (Da-naku), and he gave it to those of his brothers-in-law who loved him. Although anything he had was very little it grew to be much, and he became a rich man.

Toward the end of winter he started for Yakutat. Before he reached home they went ashore. The sun was shining. He had his things taken outside. Then he wanted to sleep, and he lay down beside them. By and by some children ran against them and the pile fell on top of him. A copper plate cut through his stomach, and it was all laid open. His sister’s son, named Xatgawe’t, was with him. Right there he burned his uncle’s body. He gathered together his bones and all of his uncle’s property, and he took his uncle’s bones to Yakutat. The same thing happened to his nephew. He also seized the le’naxi’daq. He caught her when going for an ax handle. But he handled the le’naxi’daq better than his uncle. He became richer than his uncle had been.

Story of the Ka’gwanta’n

A skilled hunter from Xakanuwu’, he encounters a mysterious bird representing sleep. After killing it, he discovers his steersman and entire village dead, victims of eternal slumber. Overcome with guilt, Qake’qute embarks on a solitary journey, adorned with traditional items, traversing treacherous terrains without sustenance, reflecting on his actions and their profound consequences.

Source:
Tlingit Myths and Texts
by John R. Swanton
[Smithsonian Institution]
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 39
Washington, 1909

► Themes of the story

Divine Punishment: Qake’qute’s act of killing the sleep bird leads to the death of his entire community, suggesting retribution from higher powers for his transgression.

Sacrifice: Feeling responsible for the tragedy, Qake’qute prepares himself for death, giving up his life as atonement for his actions.

Conflict with Nature: The story involves interactions with a mystical bird and a challenging journey through natural landscapes, highlighting a struggle against natural forces.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about the Tlingit people

The story was obtained at Sitka.

From Xakanuwu’ went a man of the Xakanu’kedi, who were named from their town. The people used to go out from there after seals, which, not having guns at that time, they hunted with long-shanked and short-shanked hunting spears always kept in the bow. The shank of the long-shanked spear, which is grasped in throwing, is called cux. This man’s name was Qake’qute. On starting off, he went up toward the head of the bay.

This Qake’qute was a great hunter and used to kill all kinds of things, but now he could get nothing. Then he stopped in a place named The Bay, and dropped his anchor into the water beside the canoe. Immediately his steersman went sound asleep, but he could not. By and by a small thing began flying around his face, and, taking up his paddle, he knocked it down into the canoe. It made a noise, “Ts, ts.”

► Continue reading…

Daylight found Qake’qute still awake. He took up the bird he had killed and saw that its eyes were swollen up and hung down over its face. Blood was on both sides of its mouth. What he had hit was his own sleep. Then he called to his steersman to awaken him. He did not hear him. Qake’qute took up his spear and pushed his steersman with the end of it. As he did not answer, he went over to him and found him dead. Like the sleep bird Qake’qute had hit, blood was coming out of his mouth. Then Qake’qute went along sadly toward the town with the body. [I am now telling you about the very ancient people.]

When Qake’qute came in sight of Xakanuwu’ there was no smoke visible, and nobody walked outside or came down to meet him as he had expected. Then he jumped out into the water and went up to his house. The people of that town were numerous, and it was long. In those days doors were made of skin hung on the outside, and the women wore labrets. All of the people there lay dead as they slept just like his steersman. He went through the houses among their bodies. Because he had knocked down Sleep not even one small boy was saved, and to this day people have the saying, “He knocked down the sleeper.” They made a parable of it.

Fur blankets were not scarce in ancient times, so Qake’qute took two marten blankets out of a box and put them around him. He was going to start away in desperation because he had killed his own sleep. He also put abalone shell in his ears and piled together the things they used for snowshoes. In a bag he carried along a bone knife and a bone trap, tied a weasel skin in his hair, and put a painted drum on his shoulder such as people used to beat when anybody was dead. He was going to die with these things. Then he started toward a mountain named Tsalxa’n [at Cape Fairweather]. He took no food with him but put some Indian red paint in a sack and, when he was ready to start, painted his face and hair. Then he started toward Gona’xo. For perhaps ten days he traveled without food, using instead leaf tobacco mixed with calcined shells. His snowshoes had claws, enabling him to climb cliffs and cross glaciers. The mountain over which he was passing is called Tsalxa’n.

By and by Qake’qute came out upon a ground-bog place. There was then no rain, for he was traveling with reference to the clouds which rose in waves behind Mount Tsalxa’n. When these clouds come down to the very foot of the mountain there will be good weather, and people then paddle far out into the ocean. Seeing an animal go down into the ground-hog hole, he set up his trap there, and it is from him that people know how to fix it. He camped near it. When he went to look at it next day it could not be seen. He took away the thing used to cover the top of the trap. He had set this trap because he was hungry, and he was very glad to see that it was down. When he came to examine it, however, he found that a frog had gotten inside. “This frog pretended that it was a ground hog,” said Qake’qute, and, taking up all of his things, he went to a bay near by called Canoe bay, hoping to see some people. He thought that he saw some at Seaweed point, and, being very lonely, he started down toward them. Then he discovered that they were black stones that looked like people, and said, “These are small stones which appear like human beings.” Starting on again toward the head of Alsek, he traveled for some time and came to its upper course.

People did not know then that Athapascans lived up there. Although eulachon ran up this river the people there were starving, as they had no other way of catching eulachon than by means of hooks. At first Qake’qute remained in the woods, not letting himself be seen by them. By and by, however, he tied together two eulachon traps (or nets) used by the Tlingit and called “seal’s-head.” Toward evening he went down to the place where those Athapascans came up to fish and set the two traps near by at the edge of the water. Both of them were filled that same night, and he emptied them where the Athapascans were in the habit of fishing. There was a large pile.

When the Athapascans came up next morning they exclaimed in astonishment, “What has done this?” Qake’qute did not know that they were Athapascans, and they did not know him. After that an Athapascan shaman began performing to discover what was working for them. When he discovered it he said, “Something has come to help you. Hang all kinds of food around there.” As he did not cat any of the food they hung about, they hung there a copper spear. Then they found him. They also placed the daughter of a chief there so that they could get him by having him marry her. So he at last went out among them. Now, the Athapascans took him with them, and be explained the fish trap to them. This is the way in which they were preserved from starvation, and the way in which they found out about the trap. When be married the woman they had given him they put many things upon him-moose skins, marten skins, beaver skins, and two copper spears valued at two slaves. The Athapascans paid him for that trap.

Qake’qute spent two years among these people, and afterward they began to pack up his property in order to accompany him back to his friends, the Tlingit. All the Athapascans packed up his things for him. Just as the warm weather was beginning, these People-of-the-last-stomach, as they were called, started with him for his town.

There was a stream called Brush creek owned by the Brush-creek people, who were his friends, so, feeling high, Qake’qute led these men thither. At first the Tlingit did not know who they were walking along with him, for they had never seen such people, and a great number of men came along bearing load after load by means of forehead bands. When be and his companions, carrying packs of moose, beaver, and squirrel skins, came out on the side of the stream opposite the town, Qake’qute said, “Come over to me in a canoe.” The people had heard about these Athapascans, although they had not seen them. But after Qake’qute had said, “Come over to me” twice, one ran out toward him from among the Brush people and said, “Are we splitting land-otter tongues on account of you? Go on below. Go to the people who are splitting tongues for you.” The Athapascans asked Qake’qute, “What is it that they are saying to us?” and he answered, “They are sending us away from here.” That is why people now say, “The Brush people sent the Athapascans away from the other side.” [said when one loses a good thing or refuses to take it]

At once the Athapascans put their packs over their shoulders. It was as quickly done as if hot water had been thrown among them. The Brush people sent them away because they were afraid. As they set out they began making a noise, “He’ye.” They went directly to the place whither they had been sent, and, crossing a glacier, came to Sand-hill-town. When the Ka’gwantan learned that Qake’qute had left Xakanuwu’, they caught those Athapascans and obtained all of their things. The Ganaxte’di also came to have dealings with them. Even now these people stop among them. They never became Tlingit, but they became people with whom one may trade. Whatever things they had, such as abalones, the Athapascans gave to them. That is how the Tlingit used to do in olden times. In exchange the Tlingit gave them every sort of thing to eat and especially an edible seaweed; but they did not know what to make of this last. The Athapascans did not know how it was cooked, and, when hot stones were thrown inside of a basket pot and the pot began shaking, they took up their bows and arrows to shoot at it. But the people said, “It is something to be eaten after it has cooled,” and gave them horn spoons for it. “Where do people go to get this?” said they, for it suited their taste. “They get it from the very edge of the water at the lowest tide.” When the Athapascans went back with Qake’qute to their homes they told the Tlingit to bring seaweed up when they came, so the Tlingit began taking this up to them. A beaver skin could be bought with one bunch of seaweed. From them were learned of the flat nose ring and dancing.

After this the people were going to build a feast house out of the wealth the Athapascans had brought them. Every morning before they had eaten anything they went after large trees for house timbers. They had nothing with which to chop except stone axes. While it was being completed the drum was beaten continually. The owner of this house was named Man-from-himself. Soon it was finished. There were eight main timbers, and it was completed in one year. After its long stringers had been put on they danced the house together. There are always eight songs for this. Then a stomach named xe’ca-hi’ni was soaked in water. The house was so big that a person who walked in front of it always appeared small, and, when he entered, one had to speak loudly to be heard across. This is why it was named Shadow-house.

Now all the women began to put fringed ornaments upon their ears in preparation for the feast. Anciently they wore these and had red paint upon their heads. After his guests were all seated, the chief put on the gonaqade’t dance hat, and, just before the gifts were distributed, the xe’ca-hi’ni, which was close to the door, was thrown among them. Then they gave away to the opposite phratry the things they had received from the Athapascans and their other property. These feasts were always called qaoduwaci’. They also called out to whom the slaves should be given and gave out coppers, which were placed around inside of the house. After their guests had gone out they danced. The other side also danced, wearing raven hats, and the feast was over.

The Athapascans on their way down used to be seen when still far back from the coast. Onetime, as they were coming across the glacier, the chief’s daughter, who was menstruant, said something to make the glacier angry. In those days a girl menstruant for the first time did not stay out of the house. They placed something heavy in front of her, and for five months she was not allowed to talk. This is the period during which a labret hole was made. It was always done when she was fasting. This girl said to the glacier, “Would that that glacier were my father’s,” and during that night it began to grow out over their new house. It extended itself far out over the town, and the people fled from it to Kaqanuwu’, where they built a new one. The Ta’qdentan fled to and established themselves at a place just opposite.

By and by the people of Kaqanuwu’ started to Gona’xo to make war on the Luqa’xadi, because of a Ka’gwantan woman who had been killed. They were armed with native picks, war spears, and bows and arrows. After they had killed their enemies they discovered a woman left alone in that place, whom they caught for a slave. She was mother of Chief Qayega’tqen. Then she said to them, “For what could you use me? Up here is the wolf post belonging to my son.” The wolf post had been hidden when the people fled. Letting the woman go, therefore, the Ka’gwantan warriors rushed greedily for the post, and brought it down. A man whose face had been scratched up by the scratching-sponge that people used in ancient times before starting to war reached the post first. His name was Top-spirit, and the name of the next Fish-that-comes-up-in-front-of-one’s-face-and-shakes. Then they started back with it but quarreled so much over it that they began to talk of not allowing anybody to have it. When they were out from shore, however, the war-leader, whose name was Dancer, stood up wearing objects representing ears over his face and said, “Who sent out these warriors? I, a high-caste Ka’gwantan, am also a brave man.” Then they started off.

At that time there were two canoe loads of Island people going along, and there was a shaman among them named Wolf-weasel, who had eight tongues. The Ka’gwantan shaman tore his canoe apart by pretending to split the water of its wake. Before they got far out it began to split. The Ka’gwantan warriors had already landed at Xuq creek where this shaman also went ashore, and they came out behind him. His spirits’ apparel was in a box in the bow.

When the warriors rushed down upon them they soon destroyed his canoe men, but the shaman himself flew away by means of his spirits. Even now people say that a shaman can fly about. After he had flown about a certain town for some time the people told a menstruant woman to look at him. She did so, and he fell into a small lake. Then he swam under a rock, sticking up in it, leaving his buttocks protruding. To the present time this lake is red. It is his blood.

The sister and aunt of this shaman were enslaved, and the warriors also carried away his spirit box. Before they had gotten very far off, however, they stopped, untied the box, and began to handle the things in it. They took out all of the spirits (i.e., masks, whistles, etc.), and asked his sister [regarding one of them], “What is its name?” This was the chief spirit, and had a long switch of hair. “The spirit is named Hanging-down spirit,” said she. Then the warrior in the bow put it on saying, “Let me be named Hanging-down spirit.” Immediately he fell down as if he had been knocked over. He ceased to breathe. Another put it on. “Let me be named Hanging-down spirit,” he said. All of those who put this on were destroyed. One, however, stood up, made a noise, and ran off. To this day his (the shaman’s) spirit has not ceased killing.

After the other warriors had returned to Kaqanuwu’, they determined to erect a house. They were the old Ka’gwantan who were going to put it up. So they sharpened the jadite which they used in chopping and went out. On account of the house timbers the owner of that house fasted for four days. After they had chopped for one month it was finished, and the chief went outside and spoke to all the people. In the morning those of the opposite phratry went out in ten canoes to push the timbers down. They paddled across singing, and brought all of them in, and they left them on the beach overnight. In the morning they were invited for tobacco. There was no white leaf tobacco in those days. Then mortars were brought out so that the part of the house near the door was covered with them. The tobacco was chewed, a liquid was poured over it, and it was mixed with powdered shells. After that the names of those of the opposite phratry to whom balls of tobacco were to be given, were called out, for they did not have any pipes at that time. Those who had received the tobacco prepared to dance, and those who owned emblem hats, as the raven or the whale, wore them. Now they started to carry up the house timbers for the first of the houses of the Ka’gwantan chiefs. They carved the wolf posts and finished the entire house in one year. It was named Wolf house from its posts.

When the house was completed a man went to Chilkat to invite the Ganaxte’di, to Sitka for the Kiksa’di, and to Killisnoo for the De’citan. They were going to invite all of them besides the Ta’qdentan into this house. Since then inviting back and forth has been going on. The guests kept coming out from the nearest point to the town site to look at the new house. The drums made a great noise there continually. After they had spent one night close to the town they came in quickly, dancing and singing. Inside, the town people began to dress themselves to dance before their guests. They went into the water, wearing Chilkat and marten-skin blankets. After that the owner of Wolf house went out and made a speech.

On the point at Kaqanuwu’ is a place named Slaves’-valley. Their slaves always [”usually” would be truer] came from far to the south. Then the owner of this house killed four slaves for his guests, while the next in rank killed two slaves, and the whole number killed at that time was ten. After they had killed them they threw their bodies down into this valley. There two of them came to life, and one, getting up, opened and closed his fingers to the people sitting on the hill. From that time the place was named Slaves’-valley by the Ka’gwantan.

By and by they began to feed their guests. The people of all this world were there. The one who had invited them began to dress himself. Even now this part of the feast is named All-arisen [to attend to the feast]. They put on their abalone shells, Indian paint, and eagle feathers on their heads, and the women ear pendants. By and by the headman was told to start his song. This man always said, “All right, you are ready, my outside shell.” He wore a blanket which had been kept laid away in a box and all the other things that his dead predecessor had worn. His wife also had her blanket secured around her waist. He always handed out his moose skins to the people. The chief always distributed for the dead.

After all the blankets had been brought out, they were taken up one at a time, and the names of those who were to receive called out, beginning with the guest highest in rank. When one’s name was called he rose and said, “Hade’” (“This way”). The chief’s property was sufficient for all of his guests. Whoever had slaves gave them away as well. When they began to give his property away the giver stood near the door with a baton in his hand. At that time there were no white men’s things, the guests being invited for Indian articles only. After all of his property had been distributed the chief made a speech, and the people took their things home. In the morning the guests received all of the dishes, spoons, baskets, etc., and they thanked their host by leaving a dance. Afterward all of the guests returned to their homes.

Now all the people lived inside of this big house, Wolf house. The young fellows were in the habit of racing one another when they went to cut firewood with their stone axes. They called it “Stone-ax-taken-in-canoe.” The party that had been beaten became angry, and when they were eating grease together they pushed the fire over upon those who had left them behind. Their opponents did the same thing. They did not have any shirts on. The chiefs, however, were sitting on top of the retaining timbers and had nothing to do with this. It was all done by their nephews. This thing never was forgotten, although now people do not kill one another. They threw fire at one another. Finally, however, one of the cohoes people, whose house was behind this, ran down bearing the raven hat, and made a noise like the raven. “Ga,” he said. Because they heard this raven they did not kill one another.

This is what caused all the trouble. We are called Burnt-house people, because the timbers of that house caught fire and were burned, and for this reason the people moved out of it and built other houses in the same place. Afterward some of the Burnt-house people moved to this place (Sitka). Because we are their descendants we are here also. They continue to be here because we occupy their places.

Qa’qatcgu’k

The story follows the eldest of several brothers, named Qa’qatcgu’k, who are avid hunters. One day, after unsuccessful hunting, they become stranded at sea for twelve days due to a storm. Eventually, they drift to an island abundant with marine life, where they reside for over a year. Guided by a dream, Qa’qatcgu’k leads his brothers back home, only to find that his wife has remarried, believing him dead. Despite this, he generously shares his acquired wealth with the community.

Source:
Tlingit Myths and Texts
by John R. Swanton
[Smithsonian Institution]
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 39
Washington, 1909

► Themes of the story

Quest: The brothers embark on a hunting expedition that turns into an unintended journey of survival and discovery.

Loss and Renewal: Presumed dead by their community, their eventual return signifies a renewal of life and relationships.

Conflict with Nature: Their struggle against the sea’s elements underscores the theme of human versus nature.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Tlingit Lore

Learn more about the Tlingit people

Story “Qaqatcgu’k” is a Wrangell version of the same story.

This story was obtained at Sitka.

At Sitka were several brothers, the eldest of whom was named Qaqatcgu’k. They were fond of hunting. One morning they went out among the islands. [Qaqatcgu’k] killed nothing. Again he went to the place where he had been in the habit of going. Then his name was mentioned among the fur seals. “It is he who is always hunting. Keep quiet, for he might hear you.” Now when they were going shoreward the eldest brother said, “Pull ahead quickly, for the wind is beginning to blow.” Then they became angry. The bow man laid his paddle down in the canoe. All did the same. Then they began to cover their heads. The canoe, however, drifted out. It drifted far out for six days and nights. On the twelfth he awoke to find the canoe drifting ashore. He saw an island on which were sea lions, seals, fur seals, sea otters, and sea-lion bristles. All had drifted on to the island. Then they took their things up. They stayed there one year. When a year and a half was completed, the man slept, thinking about himself.

► Continue reading…

One morning he awoke with a dream. He dreamed that he had gotten home. And one morning he said to his younger brothers, “Get up quickly. Let us head the canoe shoreward at random. The sun always rises from behind Mount Verstovaia.” So they headed shoreward. When it became dark they lowered their anchor into the sea in the direction of the sunrise, and after they had been out for many nights they saw a sea gull swimming about. It was really Mount Edgecumbe that they saw. When they got near to it they saw plainly that it was Mount Edgecumbe. “Head straight for the mountain,” said Qaqatcgu’k, and toward evening they came near it. They named the place where they came in Canoe-resting-place. There he pounded out the figure of a sea lion so that people might know he had come ashore at that place. Then they came to Sitka.

When they arrived in front of this town his old wife was weeping outside. While she was crying she saw the canoe come in front of the town. She saw the root hat she herself had woven. She started up, and went into the house. When they came in below the old woman felt happy. When her husband came up to her he gave away all sorts of things to the people-sea-lion whiskers, sea-otter skins, fur-sealskins. He shook hands with his brothers-in-law. [This form of greeting is, of course, modern.] Then they said to him, “This long time the death feast has been held for you.” The young woman, however, was already married. She mourned much [to think that she had left her first husband who was now so wealthy].