The adventures of Tcikapis

Tcikapis and his sister survive a bear attack by hiding in a tree. After a fish swallows Tcikapis, his sister rescues him, leaving mystical fish slime on his brow. He embarks on a series of daring exploits: slaying bears, outwitting giant women and men, retrieving grease, and ultimately ensnaring the sun. His cunning and resilience restore cosmic order when the shrew releases the sun.

Source: 
Notes on the Eastern Cree 
and Northern Saulteaux 
by Alanson Skinner 
The American Museum 
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: Tcikapis undergoes a series of transformative adventures, growing in skill and wisdom through each challenge.

Resurrection: After being killed and boiled by the giant women, Tcikapis miraculously returns to life and defeats his foes.

Time and Timelessness: Capturing the sun halts daylight, exploring themes of cosmic order and the manipulation of time.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people


Albany version
Narrated by Willie Archibald

(While their parents were being devoured by brown bears, Tcikapis and his sister escaped by climbing a tall tree where they could not be seen.)

Tcikapis and his sister lived beside a lake. One day the sister told him not to go out on a tree leaning over the water, but Tcikapis shot a bird and it fell into the water. In order to get it Tcikapis climbed out on the tree to reach it and was devoured by a fish. By and by, his sister missed him and suspecting that the fish had eaten him she caught it with a hook.

When she went to cut it up, Tcikapis cried, “Slowly, slowly, or you will cut me.” When Tcikapis was released he said to her, “Don’t scrape the (fish) slime off the top of my head and my upper lip, and the people who come later will have hair there.”

► Continue reading…

The next day, Tcikapis was hunting, he heard a noise and came home. His sister cried out, “It is the bears who killed our parents, don’t go.” Tcikapis went, however, and killed the bears. He found his mother’s braid of hair in one. He burned the carcasses.

Tcikapis went out again the next day. Again, he heard a noise and returned. His sister said to him, “Don’t go out, it is the noise made by giant women scraping beaver skins. The next day, Tcikapis went out and saw the giant women at work. He shot a “Whisky Jack” (Canada jay) and dressed in its skin and flew about. He stole the grease the women had scraped off the skins. The giant women knew it was Tcikapis, and one of them knocked him down with her scraper which she threw at him and killed him. Then they threw him into a kettle of boiling water and laughed as he whirled round and round. Tcikapis was not really dead, however. Suddenly, he jumped out and scalded the people all to death.

Next day, Tcikapis heard the giant men netting (chiseling) beaver under the ice. He made himself very small and went to them. The giants asked him to pull out a giant beaver by the tail, expecting him to be pulled in and drowned; he, however, succeeded, much to their surprise. Tcikapis opened the sinew lining of his bow and put the beaver there. The giants shouted to him to bring it back, but he refused.

He gave the beaver to his sister to cook. While he was skimming the grease to eat from the pot where the beaver was boiling, the giants came with their war spears, to harpoon him, stabbing through his tent. Tcikapis had a round, flat shell of spoon shape, he put it on his back and covered himself. The giants entered his wigwam but they couldn’t break the shell although they knew very well that Tcikapis was under it. Then they threatened to take away his sister if he didn’t come out, but he did not budge. They burned the tent and took away his sister.

When they had gone, Tcikapis came out and strung his bow and followed them. He came up to them when they were crossing a swamp or muskeg. He said to his arrow, “Don’t fall on those that are short, fall only on the tall ones.” He fired the arrow which destroyed the giants but did not harm his sister.

Next day, Tcikapis went out again. He found a fine path. He went home and told his sister. She said, “That is the path where the sun walks over night.” Tcikapis got some string from his sister and made a snare. In the morning, when the sun came along it was caught. There was no daylight the next day. Tcikapis didn’t know what to think, but at last he got up and made the fire. Then he told his sister he had caught the sun. As it would not do to have perpetual darkness, Tcikapis called all the animals together to release the sun by cutting the string. He asked the smaller animals to try first,, thinking that they would be least apt to be burned. First he tried the ermine (weasel) but he was burned to death. At last he tried the shrew who succeeded in releasing the sun.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

The adventures of Tcikapis

Young Tcikapis, orphaned by the murderous Katci’tos, embarks on a quest to avenge his parents’ death, proving his skill by shattering a jackpine and slaying the beast. Gifted with shape-shifting powers, he braves astonishing trials—outwitting a giant fish, giant beaver hunters, and a cannibal mother—before ascending a magical tree to trap the sun, thus explaining day and night, and finally bringing his family into the sky to live.

Source: 
Notes on the Eastern Cree 
and Northern Saulteaux 
by Alanson Skinner 
The American Museum 
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: Tcikapis undertakes a series of transformative trials, growing from an avenger of his slain parents into a powerful, clever hero.

Transformation: He wields the magical ability to change his size at will and even causes a tree to grow into the sky.

Origin of Things: By ensnaring the sun and creating alternating light and darkness, the tale explains the natural phenomenon of day and night.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people


Rupert’s House version
Narrated by Joe Iserhoff.

Once there was a young boy named Tcikapis who lived alone with his sister. Their mother and father had been slain by an animal called “Katci’tos” before the boy could remember. One day, when he grew old enough to go out hunting he asked his sister what color the hair of his parents had been. She replied, “Our father was dark, and our mother was light.” He took his bow and arrows and went out singing a song, the gist of which was that he would like to meet the animal that killed his father and mother. The bear appeared, “Are you looking for me?” he asked. “Do you eat people,” asked Tcikapis, “when you meet them?” “Oh no,” said the bear, “I run away.” “Then I don’t want you,” said Tcikapis. Other animals came and answered his questions in the same manner. At last came the “Katci’tos.” “Are you looking for me?” he asked. “Do you eat people?” asked Tcikapis. “Yes,” answered the animal. “How strong are you?” asked Tcikapis. “As strong as that Jackpine,” said the animal pointing to a tree.

► Continue reading…

Tcikapis turned around and fired his arrow at the tree to try his strength. He shivered it to splinters. This frightened the animal who started to run away. Tcikapis hastened and picked up his arrow. The animal was out of sight, but Tcikapis fired where it had disappeared. He ran to the spot and found it dead, split from head to tail by his arrow. In its belly he found the hair of his father and mother which he recognized by its color. He took it home to his sister.

One day Tcikapis told his sister to set some hooks for fish. She did so. Then Tcikapis took his bow, turned up, and got into it like a canoe, for he had the power to make himself very small or as large as a normal man. He went sailing along when up came a great fish. The fish was about to swallow Tcikapis, canoe and all, when he said, “Swallow me whole, don’t bite me.” The fish did so and went away. Tcikapis looked from the fish’s stomach out of his mouth and saw the hook his sister had set. “What is that over there?” he said to the fish. The fish went to see and took the bait. Later Tcikapis’ sister pulled in the line and caught the fish. When she gutted it, out stepped Tcikapis. His sister scolded him for this but he only laughed.

One time during the winter, Tcikapis heard someone out on the ice, chiseling beaver. He said to his sister, “I am going out to help those people catch beaver.” “Do not go,” said his sister, “they are Big Fellows’ (giants) and they are catching big beaver and they will get you to take hold of a beaver’s tail and you will only be pulled in so they will laugh at you.” “Never fear,” said Tcikapis, “I am going.”

Tcikapis made himself very small and went out to the river. The “Big Fellows” laughed at him and asked him to take hold of a beaver’s tail and pull it out, because they expected to see him pulled in so that they could laugh at him. Tcikapis took hold of a beaver’s tail and pulled it out without difficulty. He threw it over his shoulder and walked away to his lodge. When the “Big Fellows” saw this, they shouted, “Here, bring back our beaver,” Tcikapis replied, “It is my beaver, I caught it.”

When he reached home, his sister was frightened and said, “Tonight the Big Fellows’ will come and kill us.” Tcikapis only laughed and said, “I am not afraid of them.” That night he changed his wigwam into stone. The “Big Fellows” came and tried to break it in, but it was solid rock and Tcikapis only laughed at them.

One day Tcikapis heard some girls scraping skin. He said to his sister, “I am going to see those girls.” His sister said, “Do not do so, their mother eats people.” But Tcikapis was not afraid and went over where the girls were. There were two of them.

He began to make love to them, and very soon the old woman heard them talking and laughing. She came up, and Tcikapis said to the girls, “Do you mind if I kill your mother?” The girls said, “No,” for she killed all B their lovers. Tcikapis replied, “When she goes to cook me, tell her to sit close to the pot if she likes to see the grease come up.”

Tcikapis had a bladder full of grease under his coat, and when the old woman threw him in the pot he let it bubble up. It began to boil soon. After a time, the girls said, “Mother, if you like to see the grease come up, sit closer to the pot.” She did so, and Tcikapis leaped out and scalded her to death. Then Tcikapis went home and brought the girls with him. “Here are two girls, sister,” he said, “to keep you company so that you will not be lonely any more.” “What mischief have you been up to now? “ said his sister. “Nothing,” said Tcikapis, “I have only killed the old woman and the girls said that they were willing I should do it.”

Tcikapis climbed up a tree one day. When he got on the top of the tree he began to blow on it, and it began to grow. It grew until it reached the sky. Tcikapis got off, and there he found a beautiful path. (It was the road the sun traveled across the heavens every day.) Tcikapis wondered what made this fine path, so he lay down to wait. Presently, the sun came along. “Get out of my way,” said the sun to Tcikapis. “Come on, and step over me,” said Tcikapis rudely.

The sun refused, but after some argument, finding Tcikapis would not move, he came and stepped over him. It was so hot that it burned Tcikapis, caribou skin coat. This made Tcikapis very angry and be determined to be revenged so he set a snare for the sun. Next day, when the sun came along its path it was caught in the snare, and struggled to get loose. When it struggled there were great flashes of light and dark or day and night. This, of course, would not do, so Tcikapis tried to let the sun loose, but it was so hot that it burned him when he went near it. At length, Tcikapis persuaded the shrew who has a very long nose, to gnaw it loose.

After this, Tcikapis decided to go up above to live. He descended and got his two wives and his sister. They all climbed into the tree, and Tcikapis, began to blow on it. The tree grew higher and higher, so high that his sister and his two wives grew dizzy and they would fall off, but every time they fell off Tcikapis would catch them and put them back again.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Wemishus

After their family is slaughtered by a cannibal, two young brothers escape by digging underground and unleashing magical obstructions to hinder their pursuer. They enlist a Walrus’s aid to cross a lake, then the elder is captured by the magician Wemishus, who becomes his father-in-law. Through trials of cunning and magical contests, the youth ultimately overpowers Wemishus, reunites with his brother—raised by polar bears—and they journey onward together.

Source: 
Notes on the Eastern Cree 
and Northern Saulteaux 
by Alanson Skinner 
The American Museum 
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911


► Themes of the story


Loss and Renewal: The story begins with the tragic loss of the boys’ entire family and culminates in their eventual reunion and new lives.

Hero’s Journey: The older brother leads a transformative adventure, overcoming death, monstrous foes, and magical trials.

Guardian Figures: The Walrus and two polar bears serve as protective guides, ensuring the boys’ survival.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people


Albany Cree

A whole family was once killed by the devil [a cannibal or Wetigo], excepting two very small boys. The Cannibal kept them, for he intended to fatten and eat them. The oldest boy discovered this and said to his brother, “Do you know where our mother’s awl is?” “Yes,” replied the little one. “Find it as quickly as you can, our parents have been killed and eaten by the Cannibal.” The little fellow found the awl and gave it to his big brother who took it and bored a hole down into the ground. Then the little boys went into the hole and the oldest brother carried with him a piece of wood and a bit of stone, besides the awl. Early in the morning, the Cannibal discovered the boys were gone so he came into the hole to look for them. When the boys heard the Cannibal coming, the oldest brother took the youngest on his back and fled through the hole under the ground. A root projecting from the roof of the hole tore the little one’s cheek very badly as they brushed by.

► Continue reading…

Soon the Cannibal began to gain on them. Then the older brother threw away the piece of wood. “Let a forest grow up,” he cried, and up sprang a dense forest which hindered the progress of the Cannibal. At length, the Cannibal began to catch up again. This time the older brother tried throwing away the rag. Thick briars grew up where it fell and the Cannibal was again delayed, this time longer than before, but after a time he got through. When the older brother heard him coming, he threw away the stone, it became a very large boulder and shut up the hole. This time, it took the Cannibal a very long time to get through. Then the fugitives came out by the side of a lake. When the boys got to the shore they were frightened lest they could not escape. They saw some large animal (Walrus) in the lake and they called to him to take them across. Walrus agreed. “Keep a sharp lookout for Thunder,” he told them, “I only come out when it is a fine clear day, otherwise I stay beneath the surface.” The little chaps promised and got on his back. As soon as they started out, it began to cloud up. Walrus saw the clouds and thought he heard it thunder. He was not sure, however, and he trusted the little boys to tell him. The boys were afraid that Walrus would dive under the water with them, so they dared not tell him. At last they reached the shallow water near the other shore, where they knew they would be safe, so they told Walrus.

Walrus said to the boys, “There is an old man named Wemishus who always travels up and down the lake near this place. If you see him coming, hide and never fire your arrows in the water, for if he sees them in the water he will find you. If you should shoot your arrows in the water, don’t try to get them again, let them go.” Then Walrus returned. When Walrus returned, the Cannibal was waiting on the shore. He called to Walrus, to take him across. “Sit on my back then,” said Walrus, “but don’t move, for if you do you will hurt my neck.” The Cannibal promised, but when they were off he did move and hurt Walrus, who dove down and drowned him.

Walrus often warned the boys about Wemishus. At last, one day, the old man came around a point all at once and caught the boys unaware. Just then, the older boy’s arrow fell into the water and Wemishus called to the boy to come and get it. For a long time, the lad was afraid. Wemishus said, “Come and take your arrow, I won’t touch you. You can see I am far off in my canoe and could not reach you anyway.

The boy approached. “Come a little closer,” said Wemishus. The boy hesitated although Wemishus spoke to him several times. At last, the boy came so close that Wemishus hooked him up into his canoe with his paddle. Then he took the boy away, crying. The younger brother he left behind on the bank also crying. The older brother begged Wemishus to take the little one too, but he refused. “One is enough. For if I take your little brother there will be two of you against me and you will be able to beat me in conjuring.”

The little brother sat on the bank crying all day, for he thought that he would surely starve to death now that his brother was gone. At last, two polar bears came to him. “Don’t cry any longer,” said they, “we will bring you up.” So they looked after him, and were just like dogs to him until he became a man.

The older brother was taken home by Wemishus. When his daughter saw him, she said, “So you are bringing another one home to kill.” Wemishus had brought the boy to be her husband, for he had already become a man.

So the older brother took the girl to wife and lived with her for a while. He was continually contesting with his father-in-law with the bow and arrow, and he always beat the old man. At last, the boy said one day to Wemishus, “I wonder where we can get some gulls’ eggs?” “Oh,” said Wemishus, “I know where to go.” So off they went. As they walked along, they came to a great rock which was split open, and they had to jump over the crack. “You jump first,” said Wemishus to the youth. Although the crack was very wide the boy jumped over. The old man was to jump next, but he drew back once, for he knew he would not succeed because the young man’s power (medicine) was stronger than his. (It seems the old man had caused the split rock to be where it was by his magic, for he hoped to trap his son-in-law.) At last the old man jumped but he fell into the crack. The rock came together and would have killed him if he had been an ordinary man. Instead, however, it quickly released him. The old man’s head was broken in four pieces but he tied the fragments and his head became whole again. They started off again; this time in their canoe. By and by, they came to the island where they expected to obtain the gulls’ eggs and feathers. As they walked about, the old man kept sending the young man farther and farther away from the shore, until at last he had a chance to run to his canoe and get away. Wemishus did not paddle. He rapped on the bottom of his canoe with his staff and off it went. The young man killed a gull and collected some eggs. He skinned the gull. Then he crawled into the skin and flew off. He flew over Wemishus as he passed by. Wemishus was lying on his back in the canoe. The young man defecated full in his face as he flew by. “Oh, the odor,” cried the old man, “the gulls have finished my son-in-law already.”

The young man flew home. He lit near by and took off the skin and went to his tent before the old man arrived. His wife asked him where her father was. “I’m not taking care of him,” said the young man, “but he is coming along over there.”

Finally, the old man arrived. When he came ashore he saw his two grandsons shooting with their bows and arrows. Their arrows were feathered with gulls’ feathers and they had gulls’ eggs to eat. “Where did you get those?” asked Wemishus of his grandson. “Our father gave them to us,” they replied. “Oh, your father, the gulls have eaten him by this time,” said the old man, “for I found the smell of him as I came along in my canoe.”

When the old man really saw his son-in-law in the tent he was surprised. He sat there feeling very much frightened. He could not take his eyes off the young man. “No wonder you feel sad,” said his daughter, “you always used to be trying to beat someone, but now you have someone to beat you.” The old man had nothing to say, so to divert attention he cried out, “Oh, see that louse running about on my son-in-law’s face.” The old man began to get frightened for he could not vanquish his son-in-law however hard he tried.

It was nearing winter, and the two men were camping alone. They used to hang their leggings and moccasins to dry in the tent every night. The younger man did not trust Wemishus and watched him all the time. He changed moccasins and leggings with the old man. Then the old man got up in the night and made a great fire. The young man lay still and pretended to be asleep but he watched his father-in-law all the time. The young man saw” Wemishus go to where he thought his son-in-law’s moccasins were and threw them in the fire. When he thought they were burned up he cried out, “Your leggings are burning.” Then his son-in-law jumped up. “Mine are safe,” he cried. “Where are yours?” Then Wemishus found that he had been tricked into burning his own moccasins and leggings. They had a long way to go from their camp to their home. It was so cold the next day that the trees fairly cracked. The old man didn’t know what to do, but he blackened his legs with charcoal to look like leggings, and he hoped that would keep out the cold.

They started out. Soon the old man began to freeze. He said to his son-in-law, “The best thing I can do is to turn into a juniper (tamarack) tree. It will be good for my descendants to use for firewood.” When the young man looked back where his father-in-law had stood, there was a juniper tree.

The young man reached home. His sons were grown up now. His wife knew something had gone wrong, so she asked her husband where her father was. “Your father has got what he wanted now,” said he. Then she guessed the old man was dead and began to cry. Then her husband told her the old man had burned all his clothes and turned into a juniper tree.

“Now, I am going away,” he told her, “our grown-up sons will look after you. I may come back again, and I may not.” He really couldn’t tell, for he meant to go and look for his younger brother, who was now a grown man. So he went to the place where Wemishus had left the little fellow and sure enough, there he saw signs of his brother. He saw his tent and approached it. The younger brother knew someone was coming and came out with his bow and arrow drawn. “Don’t shoot, I am your older brother,” said the other. So the young man did not fire, for he heard him. Though he could just remember the time he had lost his older brother, for a long time he would not believe that this stranger was he.

At last when the older brother asked the younger one many questions about his parents, he partly believed. “Did you ever look in the water to see yourself?” said the older brother. “Yes,” replied the younger. “Did you see that scar on your face? Do you remember the root that caught you and scratched you?” “Yes, I remember that now,” said the young man and now he was sure of his brother, and they lived together. The elder brother wanted him to go home with him, but the young man would not go, nor would he let his older brother go home. The young man asked him if he had a wife and family, but he said that he did not. The younger brother continually found the older one crying. “You must have a family if you cry so.” “Yes,” said he, “I have two grown-up sons.”

The two polar bears still lived with the youth, but he told them they must go now, for he had his brother. The bears were very sorry and when he did drive them away they came back two or three times. At last he said to the bears, “The next time you come back, I will be gone, and you will not see me.” The two brothers went away, but in what direction, I did not hear.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

The adventures of Hyas

Hyas, the neglected son of an evil spirit-dealer, is stranded by his deceitful father on a desert island. Guided by magical animal spirits, he overcomes a gauntlet of enchanted foes—giants, sorcerous hosts, and bone-singing plains—and returns home to rescue his enslaved mother. In a final act of vengeance, he destroys his enemies and, as peace is restored, transforms into a beautiful red-breasted bird.

Source: 
History and Folklore of 
the Cowichan Indians 
by Martha Douglas Harris 
The Colonist 
Printing and Publishing Company 
Victoria, British Columbia, 1901 
(Chapter: “Folklore of the Cree Indians”)


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: Hyas embarks on a perilous journey of growth and self-discovery after being betrayed by his father.

Supernatural Beings: Spirit-animals and enchanted helpers (squirrel, fox, eagle, etc.) guide and empower Hyas against his father’s evil magic.

Revenge and Justice: Upon returning home, Hyas enacts retribution on those who wronged his mother and himself, restoring balance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people


Once upon a time, in days when much magic was the fashion, there lived a man who dealt in evil spirits, but he was a very plausible, smooth-speaking old person. He had two wives. The first wife was now old, and had to do slave’s work for the second, who had everything her own way. The first wife had an only son; Hyas was his name, and she had prayed the good spirits of her tribe to bless and care for her darling. When the lad was about twelve years old, he was out in the woods one day and spied a partridge nest full of young birds; he took it home with him for his small step-brothers and sisters to play with. When he reached home, he happened to meet his father’s second wife at the door, who said:

► Continue reading…

“What have you got there, Hyas?”

“Oh, nothing,” said he.

“Let me see,” and she snatched the nest and birds out of his hands, and the little things flew in her face and scratched her. Then she began to call Hyas names.

“Well, you would see the partridges, and I brought them home for the children to play with.”

“Never mind; I’ll tell your father what you have done to me.”

At evening the father came back from his hunting, so tired, and the young wife showed her face and said: “See how your son, that hateful Hyas, has scratched my face.”

The old man was very angry, and said: “Stop! Stop! Tomorrow I’ll pay him for this; keep quiet and you’ll see what will happen.”

Early next morning the old man called Hyas and said: “My dear son, yesterday I found a nest with red eggs in it, and I left them there, thinking you would like to get them yourself.”

“Where? Where?” cried Hyas, much excited. “I have always wished to find red eggs. How glad I am that I shall at last see them. “Well,” said his father, come with me and I’ll show you.”

So into the canoe they got and off they went, Hyas first kissing his mother, but she wept, she was so sad, for she feared some evil would befall her son. For Hyas was her only stand-by, and he would never let the young wife ill-treat her. However, he would be home in the evening.

Now, the canoe was a magic one, and all one had to do was to strike it and off it would shoot along the water, and when it slackened—whack! give it another blow, and that was all that was needed. At last, near evening, they came to an island, right in the centre of the wide river. “Now, my son,” said the father, “jump ashore; this is the island where I found the red eggs.”

“Thank you, my father; I will not be long,” and Hyas bounded off, so anxious to secure this great prize. Just as soon as Hyas had disappeared, the old man turned his canoe homeward, and left his voice behind to speak to Hyas and lure him further into the woods. Whack! and the canoe sped away, leaving poor Hyas. Hyas hunted, hunted everywhere, then cried to his father: “I can’t find the red ones.”

“Go into the middle of the island; there you will find them,” answered the voice.

So at it again, up and down through the little island, searched Hyas; but how could he find the eggs, as there were none there to find? So, in despair, he at last came back to the water’s edge. Ah! but where was the canoe? Hyas looked and saw it far out on the stream, going ever further away from the shore. “Father! Father! Come back and take me home.”

“No, indeed, not after you scratched my wife’s face.”

“No, no; I did not. She would play with the young partridges, and they scratched her.”

“Well, stay where you are and die; I am tired of supporting you,” and swiftly the canoe carried the evil old man far away—far away home.

Hyas threw himself down, crying. He could not swim that swift river. He had not tools to make a canoe with, so he gave himself up to despair.

Hist! A voice! “Hyas, get up; don’t cry, and shoot one of the gulls that are flying about.”

At first Hyas would not move, but the voice kept calling: “Hyas, Hyas, take the gull’s skin, and you can fly across the river.” So at last he was persuaded, and, taking his small bow and arrow’s, he got up and started to shoot at the gulls. At last he killed one— a young bird—-and skinned it, put it on and began to fly. He circled near the shore, but alas! it burst, and down fell poor Hyas. How he cried, but the voice urged him again. “Hyas! Hyas! Shoot an old bird— a white one.” So again the poor lad tried and managed to shoot a very large one. So with great haste he skinned it and put it round his body and began to fly—this time across the river. When near the opposite shore the skin burst and he fell into the water, but was just able to swim to shore. He thanked the spirit for helping him, and off he went. “Chee! Chee!” he heard a voice calling, and, looking up, he saw an old squirrel, who said: “Is that you, my grandson? I heard that your father had left you on the island to die. How bitterly I have cried. You see my eyes are quite red with weeping.”

“Yes, grandmother, my father is a wicked man. Now, tell me how I may get home.”

“Come first and eat,” said the squirrel, and she laid a large store of nuts and roots before poor Hyas. “The way is very long and full of your father’s evil spirits, my grandson. You must try and kill these, and then you will get home. Take these shoes with you, and when in danger put them on, and you will be able to escape.”

She gave him a beautiful little pair of squirrel magic shoes, so that if he wished to escape from danger all he had to do was to put them on and he would turn to a squirrel. He thanked her and went off.

The next day he met a huge toad, who was waiting for him. This was one of his father’s evil spirits.

“Good day, my grandson; where are you going?” she croaked.

“I am going home,” said he.

“The way is very dangerous, and I would help you; so take these shoes, and when you are in danger put them on, and you can become like me.” If he had once put on her shoes, he would have remained a toad.

“Tish!” said Hyas, scornfully, and stamped on the toad and crushed her flat. Walking on he came to a wide river. Now, how was he to get over? He did not know, so he must get some one to tell him. Just then a little green frog appeared and said: “Hie! Is that you, Hyas?”

“Yes, I am Hyas.”

“I have been looking for you, for I heard that your father had left you on the island, and that you had got off. How, I will help you. When you are in danger, use these little shoes I give you, and you will become like me.”

“Thank you, grandmother; but how am I to cross this river?”

“Well, we must ask your grandfather, the great snake, what he can do; he is very old now. Come, let us find him.” So they went down to the edge of the river, and there, on the beach, they found a monster snake lying; and, after much calling and poking with a stick to make him awake, he raised his head and asked why they disturbed him.

“It is Hyas, who wishes to cross,” said the little frog.

“If it is Hyas, then, I will help him. See first, Hyas, if there are any clouds in the sky.”

When Hyas said that the sky was clear, he said: “Now, put my head in the water and get on my back and tell me how to go, for I am very blind; and if I slacken speed, strike my horns.”

So Hyas put the snake in the water and jumped on his back, and struck the snake’s horns. It sounded just like thunder. Now, Hyas had noticed a tiny black cloud in the sky when the snake asked if there were any; but, thinking that so small a cloud was of no importance, he had said nothing about it. While the two were half across, the tiny cloud increased till it tilled the sky, and then the thunder and lightning began to dance the storm dance. “What is that, my son? Is it thunder I hear? I am so deaf.”

“No, no, grandfather; it is just the sound that I make when I strike your horns.”

When near the shore, suddenly the lightning and thunder struck the poor old snake and killed him. Hyas jumped ashore, weeping, because it was his fault the poor grandfather was killed. Weeping, Hyas gathered in some cedar bark the blood of the poor old snake and lay down beside it to sleep. By and by he heard scratching inside the bark, and when he moved it, there lay a young snake. He was so pleased, and put the snake in the water and it swam away. So on Hyas went till he met a little white fox.

“Well, Hyas, so you have escaped. I am glad to see you. I am one of the spirits sent to show you your way.”

“I thank you, fox.”

“Now, you must do all I tell you. Not far from here lives one of your father’s bad spirits; he is a fair-speaking man, but will try to kill you. Before we reach his lodge, you must hide me in your coat, and don’t eat anything he gives you, and don’t sleep.” So by and by they came near the place, and Hyas hid the little fox in his coat and went on; and, sure enough, there was a man sitting outside the lodge, who seemed so glad to see Hyas. “Come in, my dear child, come in, you must be so tired and hungry. Come in, and I will shelter you for tonight.”

So the man and Hyas went into the lodge, where a fire was burning in the middle. Now, this man had a very sore leg—how nasty it; was I may not tell. He, however, was very pleasant to Hyas, and when all was ready he said: Now, Hyas, come and eat.” But first of all he had squeezed his leg and put the poison in the food. The fox whispered: “Make believe that you are eating, and just drop the food down the inside of your coat, and I will eat it.” The man was very lame, but also very pleasant. So Hyas pretended to eat, and said how delicious the food was, while all the time giving it to the fox.

“Now, my son, you must be tired; go yonder and lie down on those skins, and I will tell you stories till you go to sleep.”

“Very well; I am tired, and I know I shall soon sleep,” said Hyas, and he lay down on the skins on his side of the fire. Then the man commenced to tell him his stories. Every now and then he would cry, “Hyas, do you sleep?” and Hyas would say, “Nay, Hum!” and the man, finding Hyas did not sleep, would continue his story. At last the fox said: “Don’t answer him, but keep wide awake.” The usual question, “Do you sleep, Hyas?” met with no response; but the man, to make sure, kept on with the story till Hyas begun to snore. Then he jumped up, and, unbuckling his bad leg, was just going to throw it on poor Hyas, when out bounded the fox, who seized the leg and shook it violently. Hyas, too, jumped up, and together they killed the man. How grateful Hyas was to the white fox. “Now go, my son, and be careful, for the next danger will be greater. You will hear women laughing and singing, and they will ask you to play with them, but you must kill them, as they are your enemies.” So saying he bid Hyas good speed and disappeared into the woods. Hyas trudged on, and the next day he heard great laughing. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” Peeping through the bushes he saw two women sitting in a high swing, and they laughed to think Hyas was coming, and how they should kill him. They had killed many people on this swing. Just below it was a large flat stone, and here they upset their victims. Then, with much fuss and noise, when Hyas showed himself they rushed to him and desired to kiss him; but no, Hyas would not be kissed.

“Come, Hyas, just get into the swing and let us swing you.”

“No, no,” said he. “Let me swing you first. Both of you get in and I’ll try.”

So, laughing greatly, they both got in, and Hyas pushed and pushed, and pretended they were heavy. “Hu-uh! You are so heavy.” All at once he put forth all his strength, and gave the swing a mighty push, and the two women went flying out and fell, crushing their heads on the flat stone below, on the place where many other victims had died. So those enemies were destroyed.

By the next day Hyas reached the place where the giants lived. They had a large dog, who took care of their hearts. He saw Hyas coming, and barked away like mad. “Hyas is coming—make ready for Hyas.” Hyas then put on the shoes that his grandmother squirrel had given him, and when the giants came running out they saw nothing. So they scolded the dog, who still insisted Hyas was there. “Well,” said one giant, “it you have seen him, tomorrow your eyes will be red.” So back they went to the lodge, and Hyas showed himself again to the dog, who was barking furiously. Now, the giants kept their hearts in an eagle’s nest on the top of a tall pine tree, which the dog guarded. So the next day, when the giants came out there, truly, the dog had seen Hyas, for his eyes were very red. So they hunted and called for Hyas, up and down; but he had turned himself into an eagle’s down, and floated up, up to the top of the pine tree where the giants’ hearts were kept. Up, up, floated the down, then swiftly came down on one of the hearts and pierced it. Down fell one of the giants with a loud groan, dead. Then there was great trouble amongst them, but again Hyas flew up and came down with the sharp end of the feather on another heart, and another giant fell dead. At last he had killed them all. Then he took their store of good things and went on.

Now, the fox had told him of the dangers he would meet with, and how he should overcome all his enemies, so Hyas was well prepared. The next trial now came. Towards evening he saw a lodge, and, coming softly up, he perceived two blind old women sitting on either side of the door. They were talking about him and wondering when he would come. “It is about time for him to arrive,” said one sister. So Hyas quietly slipped in between them and sat down inside. Now, round the lodge they had bags and bags of marrow fat. Hyas, going in, sat down by some of these bags. “Now,” said one sister, “I’ll go in and put the kettle on to boil, and if he comes the water will taste of marrow, and perhaps he will be here soon.” So she went to work, and soon the water boiled, and Hyas stepped up and dropped in a sack of marrow. The old woman said: “Let me see if Hyas has come.” She tasted the water and it tasted of marrow. “Hyas, arc you here?” No answer. “Hyas, are you here?” Still no answer. Then she took a stick and began to poke about and count the bags; at last the stick struck Hyas. “Well, Hyas, so you have come. Welcome, welcome.” And the two old wretches pretended to be so glad to see him, and gave him nice things to eat, and talked sweetly. At last he said he must go. Instantly they bared their arms, and out of their elbows were long bones, sharp as knives, and rushed to the door, to be ready to kill Hyas as he went out. He quick as thought took a bundle and put it on a stick and placed it between them. Then the fight began. Thinking they were hitting Hyas, the old wretches were striking each other, and soon they fell over, dead. How Hyas laughed. “Ho-o-ho!” He went on his way rejoicing. Not long after he heard a great noise, and as he came out of the woods he saw a great plain. Stretched across the plain was a string, held up at the ends of the world, and on it were hung bones — oh, how many millions! Deer bones, moose horns, elk, bison, goat — jaw bones, thigh bones — too many to count. The bows would come down and strike the earth —crash! — and then would bound up into the air, and while the bones were in the air the earth would open her mouth, and no one could possibly cross. Oh, the din! The horrid bones would drop down —crash! — all the time singing a wild song, “We have come to eat you, Hyas! Hyas, we have come to eat you!” and the earth would rumble and howl frightfully. “Hyas, Hyas, we will eat you!” Poor Hyas, what could he do? Suddenly he spied an eagle flying towards him. “Hey, grandfather,” he cried, “can you help me?”

“What can I do, grandson?”

“Oh, grandfather, if you could hold up the string till the earth closes her mouth, I could jump across.”

So Eagle swooped down and caught up the string of bones till the earth closed, and Hyas jumped across. After some days’ travelling he came near his old home, and all the birds began singing, “Hyas tucksin! Hyas tucksin!” and making a great noise. The poor old mother of Hyas came out of the lodge and she heard them. “Alas!” said she, “where is my poor son to come from? He is dead this long while.” But still the birds sang, “Hyas tucksin! Hyas tucksin!” Then Hyas looked, and there stood his mother, in rags and with scars of burns on her face. He ran forward and took her in his arms, crying: “Mother, I am here; look up. I have come back to you.”

“My son, my son!” she cried for joy.

“Tell me how my father has treated you since I have been gone.”

“Oh, I am a slave now, and they push me into the fire, and are very cruel to me.”

“Now, I will be avenged,” said Hyas. “Have they a young child?”

“Yes,” said she.

“Well, you must go in and ask my father for some bear’s grease for me, so that I may dress my hair, and if he refuses, ask to nurse the child, and make the fire red hot, and then throw the child in and run out to me, I am going to punish them all.”

Now, by this time all the people heard how Hyas came back, and his father came rushing out to see if it were true. Then, calling the people to bring beaver and marten skins for Hyas to walk on.

“Tush!” said he, kicking the skins aside. “I have walked so far without them. Do I need them now?”

The father knew now that Hyas was greater than he, and that his bad spirits had been killed, and he was afraid. The mother asked for the bear’s grease.

“Tish! No, indeed, I’ll not give him any, so go and tell your son that he can do without.”

So the poor old woman went to the child and took it to nurse it, as it was crying.

“Don’t let her have the child,” screamed the husband. “She means mischief.”

“Let her have it,” said the young mother, so the child was hushed by the old woman, who kept piling on the wood till the lodge was like a furnace. Then all at once she threw the child into the fire, and ran screaming to her son. He was waiting for her, and his father rushed out, but the fire had caught the lodge and burnt the inmates up. Then the village took fire and the people ran to their canoes. Hyas shot an arrow into the water and it began to boil, and their canoes were destroyed and they were drowned. Only Hyas and his mother were left alive. So he asked her what bird she would like to be, and she chose the lark, and die then became one; and Hyas turned into a beautiful red-breasted bird. So that was the end of all his travels and adventures.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

An Athabascan Tradition from Alaska

After their father declares them too old to hunt, two brothers set off in search of sustenance. They follow mysterious tracks, encounter a hostile village of warrior-women (where the elder brother is killed), and the younger presses onward alone. He slays monstrous porcupines, eagles, and a lynx blocking his path. At death’s brink, an ermine rescues him home, earning its white-necked marking in gratitude.

Source: 
An Athabascan Tradition from Alaska 
by Arthur Wright 
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.21, No.80, pp. 33-34
January-March, 1908


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: The younger brother undergoes a transformative adventure, departing home, facing trials, and returning wiser.

Origin of Things: The tale explains why the ermine bears a white “necklace,” offering a mythic origin for a natural trait.

Supernatural Beings: He confronts and overcomes giant porcupines, eagles, and a lynx, all imbued with monster-like powers.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Athabaskan people


Contributed as part of the Proceedings of the California Branch of the American Folk-Lore Society. This tradition is communicated through Rev. W. A. Brewer, of Burlingame, Cal. The author, one of his pupils, is from a Yukon tribe which he calls Tonidzughultsilhnu.

An old man, his wife, and two sons lived in the valley between the Koyukuk and Yukon. The man had become too old to go out any longer, and told his boys that they must travel alone. They answered that they wished to go.

In the morning they found a porcupine track. Following this down stream, they came to a large river running full of ice. At the edge of the water the track disappeared. The brothers leaped on a cake of ice and floated down stream. Landing again and looking for food, they found a fish that had been left on the ice, and saw many sled-tracks. They followed these. Then they heard faint weeping. Going on cautiously, they saw a porcupine carrying a load. Coming close, they asked it why it cried. When it did not answer, they clubbed it dead, cooked it, and ate it.

Going on, they saw a village. An old woman came out, saw them, and called to the people of the village to prepare food for them. The brothers entered a large house, where an old man was seated on a caribou-skin.

► Continue reading…

They sat down on each side of him on caribou-skins and were given food. Seeing only young women, besides the old man and woman, the brothers asked where the young men were. The young women said that there were none, but that they could do many difficult things that even men could hardly do. The older brother boasted that they could not overcome him, but the young women answered that they were only explaining why they did not need men.

In the morning the young women went hunting. The brothers went with them. Then the women outran the older brother and teased him. Becoming angry, he said:

“You cannot do one thing. Stand at a distance and shoot at me. If I am not hit, I will shoot at you.”

The younger tried to interpose, warning him of the women’s ability; but the older remained angry and insisted. The women finally consented. When they shot, he leaped, but four arrows struck him together and he fell dead. The younger brother mourned for him.

When he wished to return and asked the way, he was told that it was dangerous, and the monsters he would meet were described to him. Nevertheless he started.

After going some time, he saw a cliff with the nest of enormous birds. The old ones were away, but he found a young eagle.

“What do your parents do when they come?” he asked.

“When they come,” the eaglet answered, “it becomes dark, it blows, and there is thunder. When it is my mother, it rains. When it is my father who comes, it hails.”

Then the young man killed the young bird. He waited. It became dark, and thundered, and rained, while the air was blown against him by the beating of the great bird’s wings. The young man shot it, and springing forward killed it with his moose-horn club. When the other bird came, he killed it too.

He went on until he came to a porcupine as high as a hill, which was in a cave through which the young man must travel. He could find no way around. Hiding outside the cave, he made a noise. The porcupine started to back out, lashing its tail against the mountain-side until the tail was bare of its enormous quills. Then as it emerged the young man shot it and clubbed it to death.

Going on, he saw tracks of an enormous lynx. This — the women had told him — was the strongest of the monsters. Here, too, he tried to go around, but could not. Then he tried to shoot it, but the lynx caught his arrows with its claws. Seeing his attempts were in vain, he waited for death. Then the lynx ordered him to clear away the snow so it could sit at ease while devouring him, and to heap up wood by which it could cook him. The young man did this, but the lynx told him to gather more firewood. The young man gathered, going farther each time. Then he heard some one say:

“Brother, quickly stand on my back and I will carry you away.”

“Where art’ you?” he asked.

“Here.”

Looking down, he saw an ermine at his feet. “I will kill you if I step on your back,” he said.

“No, jump on me. I will carry you.”

Then he jumped strongly, but the ermine did not even move.

“Your back is too small. I cannot sit on it.”

“Lay a stick across my back, and put another across my neck for your feet.”

He laid the sticks across the ermine and sat down. Immediately it carried him to his house.

The young man’s parents rejoiced to see him. In gratitude they gave the ermine a shell necklace. That is why the ermine has white around its neck.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Story of the water-man

Villagers are terrorized by a malevolent water-man residing in a lake. An orphan boy, mistreated by his uncle and his uncle’s younger wife, secretly breaks the water-man’s external organ, weakening him. When the villagers confront the creature, the uncle is killed, but the boy slays the water-man, earning leadership and marrying the elder wife, while rejecting the younger.

Source: 
Kaska Tales
by James A. Teit
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.30, No.118, pp. 427-473
October-December, 1917


► Themes of the story


Trickster: The water-man uses cunning to deceive and consume people.

Hero’s Journey: The orphaned boy embarks on a transformative quest, leading to personal and communal change.

Revenge and Justice: The boy avenges his uncle’s death and brings justice by eliminating the water-man.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Kaska people


Some people who lived near a lake were troubled by a water-man who lived in the middle of the lake. He fooled and ate people. In the centre of the lake could be seen numerous very long strings, like weeds, on the surface of the water. This was his hair. On the edge of the lake was a thing growing, in substance like a stick, and in shape like a man’s penis. This was his penis. The people had tried many times to break it, but could not accomplish it. They practised bathing in cold water to make themselves strong, so that they might break it, but without avail. Among the people who were making medicine that they might attain power to break it was an orphan boy who lived with his uncle, who had two wives. His uncle and the younger wife treated him badly.

► Continue reading…

Each succeeding night the boy tried to break the penis, and at last one night he accomplished the feat. He put it together again, and said nothing. Next morning his uncle, accompanied by many men, went to try again, and it broke easily. All were glad, and went back to camp rejoicing. They composed a song on the occasion. They thought they could now conquer the water-man.

Next morning they went in a large canoe to kill the water-man. The boy’s uncle stood in the prow of the canoe to do the killing. When they embarked, he had told the boy to go home, as he would be of no use; but the boy went, nevertheless, and sat in the stern of the canoe. His uncle seized the water-man by the hair, and was about to strike at him, when the latter moved his head; and he fell out of the canoe, and was at once killed by the water-man. The boy then arose, and, running forward to the bow of the canoe, seized the water-man’s hair and killed him. He struck off his head as easily as cutting fat. The people then returned, singing a song of victory and a death-chant together. The boy’s uncle’s wives heard the singing, and began to paint themselves, as they thought their husband was the victor. The elder was doubtful as she heard the two kinds of songs; but the younger one kept on painting herself, although the paint constantly scratched her face. The boy had made it do this.

When all the people learned of the boy’s victory, they made him chief, and he became renowned throughout the country. He took his uncle’s elder wife to be his wife, but would have nothing to do with the younger one.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Story of Beaver

Beaver, a great transformer, encounters various monsters along a well-traveled trail. He first confronts Wolverene, who kills travelers using a slippery glacier and a hidden spear. Feigning death, Beaver tricks and kills Wolverene and his family. Continuing his journey, Beaver outwits Sheep-Man, who pushes people off cliffs, by reversing the trap and causing Sheep-Man’s demise. Beaver’s cunning leads to the downfall of these malevolent beings.

Source: 
Kaska Tales
by James A. Teit
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.30, No.118, pp. 427-473
October-December, 1917


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: Beaver embarks on a transformative adventure, confronting and overcoming various challenges and adversaries.

Trickster: Beaver employs cunning and deception to outsmart his enemies, such as pretending to be dead to deceive Wolverene.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts lessons about bravery, intelligence, and the triumph of good over evil through Beaver’s actions and decisions.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Kaska people


A long time ago, when all the animals were people, Beaver was a great transformer. He travelled along a wide trail that was much used. Along the trail were many monsters that preyed on people. He came to a place where people always disappeared. Wolverene killed them. His house was at the foot of a glacier, between two rocky bluffs. The glacier was very slippery, and people crossing it slid down to the bottom, where they were transfixed on a spear placed there by Wolverene. As soon as something touched the spear, Wolverene knew it, and came out at once. If they were dead, he carried the bodies home; if they were only wounded, he killed them. His house was full of peoples’ bones. Beaver went down this slide, and, cutting his lips with the spear so that they bled, pretended to be dead.

► Continue reading…

Wolverene knew something had been caught, and came out smiling and very happy. When he saw Beaver, he said, “What a large beaver!” Then he laughed, and said, “I have caught this clever man.” He carried the body home and put it down in his house. He had four flensing-knives. He used one after another, but they would not cut Beaver’s skin. Then he searched for the fourth knife. Beaver knew that this knife would cut him, so he opened his eyes to see where he might find a stick. One of Wolverene’s children noticed him, and called out, “Father, the Beaver has opened his eyes!” Wolverene answered, “You are mistaken. How can a dead man open his eyes?” Beaver jumped up and seized a stick, with which he broke Wolverene’s arms and legs. He killed him, and put his body before the fire to roast. He also killed all Wolverene’s children, and treated their bodies likewise.

Beaver went on, and came to a bluff overlooking a deep creek. He heard a dog barking below the cliff. He listened, and approached cautiously. Presently he saw a man on the top of the cliff, and went to him. This was Sheep-Man, who killed people by pushing them over the cliff. His wife attracted them by barking like a dog, and any who were not killed outright by the fall were clubbed by her at the bottom of the cliff. When Beaver reached Sheep-Man, the latter said, “Look at the sheep down below!” Beaver said, “You look first, you saw them first.” They quarrelled as to who should look over the brink first. At last Sheep-Man looked, and Beaver at once pushed him over. He was killed by the fall. When Sheep-Man’s wife heard the thud of something falling at the base of the cliff, she ran out quickly, and began to club the man before she noticed that it was her own husband. She then looked up and saw Beaver, who threw a rock at her head and killed her. This is why the head of the mountain-sheep is so small between the horns; and the tongues of sheep are black because they once ate men.

Beaver travelled on, and came to a large camp of Sheep people. The women were good, and called to him, “Why do you come this way?” He answered, “I am looking for friends who have passed along this trail.” The Sheep men followed him, and he ran among bluffs and rocks. It became dark; but they pursued him, just the same, by scenting him. He went down a steep place, and the Sheep did not know exactly which way he had gone. There his trail was a sheer cliff. They called out, “How did you get down?” and Beaver directed them to the sheer cliff. The Sheep then all ran over the cliff and were killed.

In the morning an old woman and girl arrived there. The woman proposed to marry Beaver, and had told the girl that when she slept with him, she (the girl) must club Beaver while he was asleep. Beaver refused the request of the women, and killed them both.

Beaver proceeded on his journey, and, after crossing a mountain, sat down on the trail. He saw a man coming, carrying a stick with a hook at the end. This was Marten-Man, who killed people (by hooking them between the legs). Beaver placed a piece of sheep’s flesh between his legs and sat still. Marten asked many questions of Beaver. They conversed together and told stories to each other. Meanwhile Marten pushed his stick underneath the snow and hooked the meat. Beaver ran away, and Marten chased him. As he ran, Beaver dropped pieces of sheep’s fat. Marten could not catch him, and turned back to his camp. He said to his wife, “I have lost some very fat game. The fat kept dropping from him as he ran. We will shift camp, and I will track him.” Next morning Marten tracked Beaver, and his wife and children followed behind. Beaver lay in wait for Marten, and killed him. He cut off one arm, and covered the rest of the body with snow. Then, making a camp, he scattered pieces of sheep’s fat about, and put Marten’s arm on a hook to roast. He had just hidden himself when Marten’s family appeared. The children were delighted, saying, “Father has killed some fat game. See the camp, and the arm roasting, and the pieces of fat scattered about!” They ran around on their snowshoes, laughing, and gathering up the pieces of fat. When Beaver appeared, the eldest boy was going to shoot him with an arrow; but Beaver called out, “Don’t! I am going to marry your sister.” His mother took hold of his arm, and said, “Don’t shoot! He will be your sister’s husband.” Beaver said, “I will make a big fire, so that the meat will roast quickly.” They did not know that it was Marten’s arm. Beaver brought in some wood covered with snow and put it on the fire, which now became smoky and nearly went out. He asked the mother and children to get down on their hands and knees and blow on the fire. When they did so, Beaver clubbed them, and killed them all excepting the youngest child, who ran away and climbed a tree. Beaver could not catch him, so he transformed him into the animal marten, saying, “Henceforth you shall be an ordinary marten, and shall eat rabbits and mice. You shall never again eat men.”

Beaver continued his journey along the trail. When near a small, round lake, he saw that a giant was following him. He went around the lake, and the giant chased him. Beaver ran round and round the lake, the giant behind him. The latter could not catch him, and began to slacken his pace. He said to Beaver, “How can I catch you?” Beaver answered, “Make ready everything required for frying and cooking my meat, then make a snare, set it, and catch me.” The giant did as advised. Beaver put a large tree-stump in the snare and hid in the brush. The giant felt something in his snare, and began to pull on the line. It was very heavy, and he gave a mighty tug. The stump gave way, and, flying up, struck him on the forehead. The wound bled much, and the giant licked and swallowed the blood as it ran down his face. He was very tired and hungry, for he had chased Beaver all day. He sat down, and thought, “What shall I eat?” He thought of eating his ears, but said, “No! if I eat my ears, I shall spoil my hearing.” He thought of his nose, and said, “No! if I eat my nose, I shall no longer be able to smell.” He thought of all the different parts of his body, and at last of his privates. He could not think of their being of much use, so he cut them off and ate them. He felt sick, and said to himself, “I am getting very sleepy.” He was dying, but did not know it. He lay down and died.

Beaver continued his travels, and came to the edge of a large river. Happening to look round, he saw another giant coming. He took off his clothes, and painted himself with the white powdery substance that covers the outside bark of cottonwood-trees. He looked like a ghost. He put little sticks in his eyes to keep the eyelids open, and stood rigid and immovable alongside the trail. As the giant approached, he said, “That game looks very strange.” He took his axe and made as if he would strike; but Beaver never moved, or winked an eye. The giant said, “This cannot be game.” The giant tickled him in different parts of the body, but Beaver neither moved nor laughed. The giant said again, “This is funny.” He poked his finger in Beaver’s anus, and then smelled of it, saying, “Well, this smells like game, but the body does not act or look like game. This is very strange.” He departed wondering. Beaver ran away and climbed a tree. The giant changed his mind, and returned to examine him again. When he arrived at the place and found that he was gone, he said, “I am very sorry I did not hit him with my axe. It was surely game.” He followed the tracks to the bottom of a tree near the water-edge, but never looked up into the tree. He saw Beaver’s reflection in the river, and said, “There he is!” He struck at the reflection with his axe. Then he moved to the side and struck again. The giant kept this up for a long time, and was completely soaked with the splashing of the water. He had about made up his mind that he could not kill him, when Beaver laughed. The giant looked up into the tree and saw him. He said, “I will shoot you,” and he put an arrow on his bow. Beaver called, “Don’t! If you shoot me, I shall fall into the river, and you will lose me.” The giant said, “I will fire the tree;” and Beaver answered, “You mustn’t. If you do that, you will burn me up, and lose all my fat.” The giant said, “I will chop down the tree;” and Beaver answered, “No! if you do that, the tree will fall into the water, and you will lose me.” The giant said, “Then how shall I get you?” Beaver answered, “Get a long pole and put a noose at the end and catch me.” The giant agreed to this. Beaver said, “Go up on yonder hill and cut a pole.” The giant went up, and, seeing a good-looking pole, called out to Beaver, “Will this one do?” Beaver answered, “No, go farther! that is not the right kind.” Beaver kept on urging the giant to go farther, until he reached the top of the mountain. The giant showed a pole from there; and Beaver called out, “That one will do, now put a noose on it and get everything ready.” Beaver then came down out of the tree, and swam across the river. When the giant came back, he missed Beaver, and said, “He has got away. I am very sorry I did not shoot him.” Beaver talked to him from across the river. The giant asked him, “How did you get across there?” and Beaver answered, “I made my blanket into a canoe by tying it up and putting a board in the bottom.” The giant did this, and when nearly across began to sink. He called out, “Help! I am sinking!” and pushed out the pole he had cut for Beaver to catch it and pull him out. Beaver took hold of the pole and pushed the giant under water and drowned him.

Beaver now made a canoe and went down the river. He saw smoke and a camp, and put ashore and tied up his canoe. This was the camp of Woodchuck, who ate men. He said to Beaver, “I am a good man, and treat my guests well. I shall cook, that you may eat, for you must be hungry.” He cooked a mixture of human and other flesh. Beaver knew the human flesh and would not eat it. Woodchuck became angry, jumped on him, and scratched him. They fought a long time; and Beaver killed Woodchuck and threw his body into the river. He then burned his lodge and all his belongings.

Continuing down the river, Beaver reached the camp of Bushtail-Rat, who was also a cannibal. He said to Beaver, “Be my guest; I am a good man, and will treat you well. I will cook food for you.” He cooked a kettleful of flesh, which when done he served on a dish. He put the human flesh on the side of the dish next to Beaver, who did not touch it, but ate only from the other side of the dish. Rat was very angry, and he and his wife jumped on Beaver. They fought a long time and nearly killed Beaver, who in the end succeeded in killing both. When nearly dead, Rat-Man called out, “I have two caches! The good meat is in the eastern one, and the poor meat in the western one.” Beaver went to the eastern cache, and saw that it contained dried human flesh. He burned up the two caches and also Rat’s lodge, and all the implements which he used for killing people.

Beaver continued his journey down the river, and came to the place where Kingfisher lived. He lived by spearing fish, and did not kill people. Beaver hid his canoe, changed himself into a large salmon, and swam to the place where Kingfisher used to draw water. Kingfisher saw him, and ran back to get his spear. He returned quickly and speared the salmon; but his spear-point broke off, and the fish swam away with it. Kingfisher was very sorry to lose his spear-head. He went back and sat down. Soon Beaver came along in his canoe. He had the spear-head hidden in a box in the canoe, where it could not be seen. Kingfisher said, “O my friend! I have just lost a big fish that went off with my spear-head. Had I caught the fish, we should have eaten together. I should have cooked it for you.” Beaver went up to Kingfisher’s lodge, where his host made him fall asleep and then read his thoughts. He found out that the spear-head was in Beaver’s canoe, and went to search for it; but he broke up the whole canoe before he succeeded in finding it. When Beaver awoke, he went down to the canoe and found it broken. He reproached Kingfisher, saying, “I thought you said you were a good man and always treated your guests well. Now you have broken my canoe.” Kingfisher said, “I wanted to get my spear-head, so that I may be sure to get food. If you are not satisfied, I will throw a sleep on you again.” Beaver did not kill Kingfisher, because he was not a cannibal. He lived entirely by killing fish.

When Beaver was leaving, Kingfisher said to him, “You will find Otter-Man living lower down; he is a bad man, and eats people. Look out for him! He has a rope stretched across the river a little above the surface of the water, and any canoe which hits it is cut to pieces.”

Beaver repaired his canoe and continued his journey. He watched for the rope. When he was near it, he lifted it up with a stick which he had taken aboard, and passed underneath. Some distance below he saw smoke on a point, put ashore, and came to the camp of Otter-Woman, who had in her privates animals that bit and killed men. The woman ran down to meet him, and cried, “You must be my husband!” She hurriedly bundled his belongings into her game-bag, tied it up, and was about to carry it up to her lodge. Beaver said, “Stay! I want to drink some cold water. Will you fetch me some?” She hurriedly brought some water from near by; but Beaver said, “That is no good, it is too warm. Go up to the spring in the mountain and get some really cold water.” When she had gone, Beaver cut one of the strings of the bag. Otter-Woman at once knew, and turned back. Beaver beckoned her to go on; and when she was far away, he cut the other strings of the bag, took out his belongings, and embarked in the canoe. He went downstream to an island where he made up his mind to camp over night. Otter-Woman came back, jumped into the river, swam to the island, and went to his camp. Beaver killed two beavers at this place for food. Otter-Woman took the skins, tanned and dressed them, sewed them into mitts for Beaver, and laid them by his side. Beaver and Otter-Woman staid on opposite sides of the fire. When Beaver awoke, he found the mitts the woman had made, and, looking across the fire, he saw her lying naked with her legs apart, in a tempting attitude. Beaver heated a stone, and, instead of having connection with her, he pushed the stone into her vagina and killed her. A weasel and mink came out, and he killed them. These animals bit men who had connection with the woman, and killed them.

Beaver continued his voyage down the river. He saw the smoke of a big camp, and put ashore. Here lived Shrew-Woman, who was very small and very wise. The smoke from her lodge rose out of the grass. She asked him where he was going and where he had come from. When he told her, she advised him not to go farther down the river. She said, “An evil being lives lower down. He is gifted with great magical power, and has many cannibal monsters under his control. Above his house are two huge snake-like monsters with hairy manes, that lie one on each side of the river. When they sleep, their eyes are wide open; and when awake, their eyes are shut. When anything comes down the river, they both dart out their heads and seize and devour it.” Beaver said he was hungry, and Shrew cooked a few salmon-eggs for him in a tiny kettle. Beaver thought to himself, “That is not enough.” Shrew read his thoughts, and said, “You will find there is enough.” As the eggs cooked, they and the kettle grew bigger, and Beaver found he could not eat all. When Beaver left, Shrew gave him two fish to throw, one on each side, to the snakes when he reached them. He came down midstream in his canoe; and as he approached the snakes, he saw that their eyes were shut. He then knew they were awake; and, as he passed between them, they darted out their heads to devour him. He threw a fish into the mouth of each; and while they were devouring the fish, he passed on out of reach. A short distance below this place he saw two girls, sisters, playing on the shore. He went ashore above them, and, changing into a bluebird, flew near them. The sisters thought the bird could not fly very well, and chased it. At last the younger girl caught it and carried it home. When they reached their lodge (they slept together, and apart from their parents), the elder sister offered to buy the bird from the younger one by paying her a silver spoon she owned. The younger one agreed, and they exchanged. The elder girl took the bluebird to bed with her, and placed it between herself and her sister. When she awoke, she found a young man lying between them, and the bird was gone. The girls began to cry, for they knew their father would kill the man. They left him and went to breakfast. Their father noticed tears in their eyes, and asked them why they were crying. At last they told him of the young man, and he told them he wanted to see him. They brought the man to him, and he at once seized him and put him into a large kettle that he had on the fire. He kept him in there for two days boiling, then he lifted the lid to see if he were properly cooked. Beaver had changed himself into a little bird; and when the lid was lifted, he flew out and escaped. The cannibal tried hard to catch him, but without avail. During the interval the sisters felt very sorry for the man and cried often. That night Beaver came to them and slept between them as a man. In the morning they cried again, for they knew that their father would try again to kill him. Their father heard them, and knew the man was there. When they went to breakfast, their father asked them, and they finally told him the man was there. He said to them, “All right, you may keep him as a husband, and he shall work for me.” He told his son-in-law, “You must finish my canoe for me,” and showed him a large, partly finished canoe, the sides of which were kept apart by a cross-stick. When Beaver went inside to work, the cannibal pulled out the stick, and the sides closed in and imprisoned Beaver. The cannibal went home and told his wife that the strange man was dead or a prisoner. Shortly afterwards he returned to the canoe, and found it split and his son-in-law gone. Beaver had burst the canoe by spreading his elbows. Next morning the cannibal heard his daughters crying again; for they knew the difficult tasks their father would give to their husband, and that if he failed in any of them, he would lose his life. That day the cannibal told his son-in-law that he wanted some eagle-feathers for his arrows, and directed him to a big tree where the Bald-Headed Eagle lived, who ate people. Beaver climbed the tree, and found only two young Eagles in the nest. He asked them when their parents would come home; and they answered, “Our mother will come with wind and rain at noon, carrying the legs of a man. Our father will come with wind and hail in the evening, carrying the upper part of a man. He eats the rest.” One of Eagle’s children always told his parents everything. He therefore could not be trusted, so Beaver killed him. Beaver said to the other, “When your mother comes, tell her your brother got sick in the head and died; and you are sick in the head now too, and will die by and by if you eat any more of that meat she brings. You must not eat any of the meat. If she asks what it is that smells like a man around here, tell her it is only the smell of the game she brought.” Beaver hid with a club outside the edge of the nest. When the Mother-Eagle arrived, she asked why her son was dead, and the boy told her all as directed by Beaver. He also refused to eat of the meat she had brought. The mother said, “Very well, I will eat the meat myself.” When she had eaten just a little, a piece stuck in her throat and threatened to choke her. She then knew there was something wrong. Beaver jumped up and clubbed her, and threw the body away. Beaver told the boy to tell the same story to his father, and, if the latter asked where his wife was, to tell him she had not yet come home. When the Father-Eagle arrived, he asked for his wife. When he was told that she had not yet come, he said, “That is strange, she always arrives here before me.” The boy refused to eat the meat he brought; so the father began to eat it himself, choked on it, and was killed by Beaver, who now descended, plucked the feathers out of the dead birds, and returned. The cannibal was much surprised that Beaver had returned alive. Next day he told his daughters that their husband had to get sinew for tying the feathers on his arrows. When they told Beaver, he sent one of them back to learn where he had to go; and her father told her he had to go to the hairy cannibal monster who lived beyond Shrew-Woman’s house. On the way Beaver called on the Shrew and told her of the task he had to perform. She said to him, “I will help you.” They went off together; and when near the monster’s place, she dug a hole for Beaver in which to conceal himself. The hair was worn off the monster’s haunches through sitting on the ground. When Shrew drew near, the monster asked her what she wanted. She said, “I want you to help me. I am cold, and I want some of the long hair from your body to weave a blanket for myself.” The monster told her to pluck some hair from his haunches. She pretended to pull the hair, and said, “The hair is too tough and coarse here, it will not pull out.” He told her to try another place. She did so, and said the same. Finally she said, “The hair under your arm seems to be the best. I will pluck some from there.” The monster said, “All right.” She pulled out much of the hair from under the arm over the heart, and left a bare spot. Beaver then shot an arrow at this vital place and mortally wounded the beast, who immediately crawled into his hole or den. Shrew crawled in, and found he was dead. Shrew-Woman now had plenty of meat, and she cut out the sinew for Beaver, who went back with it. When Beaver brought home the sinew, the women were glad, and their father was very angry. Next morning he told his daughters to tell their husband to get glue to fasten the feathers and sinew on his arrows. He sent one of his wives back to ask where to get it. Her father said, “Down there in the lake.” There lived a monster-fish, probably a kind of pike or a sturgeon, that ate people as they went along the shore. Beaver took his spear and went to the lake and speared the fish, which moved the whole lake in his death struggles. When he was dead, Beaver cut out the part used for glue from behind the dorsal fin, and returned home. The cannibal was now very angry, and said to his wife, “This fellow has killed all my pets that kill men, and my arrows are not yet made.” Next day he sent him for paint to paint his arrows with, and sent word that it was up the river where he had passed. As Beaver went by, he called on Shrew-Woman for advice. She told him that the snake-monsters he had passed coming down the river lay on the paint. She said she would assist him. She made a man of clay to throw into the middle of the river. She said, “When they see him, they will pounce on him, and then you may steal the paint from underneath the tail of the one on this side of the river.” Beaver brought back the paint. The cannibal now transformed his daughters into grizzly bears, and put them on a side-hill across the river. He pointed out the bears to his son-in-law, and said, “Do you see those bears across the water? Let us go and kill them! You will go on the top of the hill, I shall drive them to you, and you will shoot them.” He gave his arrows to Beaver, who saw that none of them had heads. Beaver, however, was prepared for this, and had hidden two bone arrow-heads in his hair. When Beaver got to the top of the hill, he put the bone heads on two arrows. The cannibal drove the bears, and, when they came near the top, Beaver shot the headless arrows at them; but they all broke, and none of them penetrated. He then fired the arrows with heads, and killed both the bears. The cannibal was very angry, and chased him with a knife. As he could not run fast, he called on his wife, who was fleet of foot, to chase Beaver. When she had nearly caught up with Beaver, the latter made the ground crack behind him, and the woman fell down. Again she gained on him; but he reached a lake, jumped in, and changed himself into a beaver. The cannibal said to his wife, “You can run fast; go back and fetch my net, that I may catch him.” The woman brought the beaver-net, and they set it in the lake. They tried for several days, but could not catch Beaver. The cannibal then called for the man (bird) with a big stomach to come and drink up the lake. He came and drank the lake dry. Beaver then hid in the mud, and the cannibal and his wife probed all over for him. At last they felt him, and Beaver realized that he was in extreme danger. He called on Snipe, saying, “Quick! They have found me. Hurry and punch a hole in the stomach of that bad man (bird)!” Snipe approached the Bird-Man, who was sitting quite still on the edge of the basin where the lake had been. He was so full of water he could not move, and felt very heavy. He said to Snipe, “Don’t come near me!” Snipe answered, “I shall not harm you. I am just looking for food near you.” Snipe made a swift stroke with his bill, and punched a hole through Bird-Man’s stomach and belly; and the water gushed out, and soon filled the lake. Beaver began to swim about, and the cannibal and his wife rushed hurriedly away for fear of drowning. The woman told her husband to come home, saying he could not beat their son-in-law. On the way back they came to the bodies of their daughters, and began to cry. Beaver followed them, and, coming to the place, said, “Why do you cry? They are only sleeping.” He said to the bodies of the bears, “Wake up!” and they arose and changed into the women they had been. They went off with him as his wives. The cannibal man was now powerless to do harm, and consented fully to his daughters marrying Beaver. Before they parted, he gave each of them a feather, which he told them to put in the water wherever they got their drinking-water. He told them that the feathers, although in the water, would always be dry as long as their husband remained faithful to them and did not go with other women, but the moment he was unfaithful the feathers would become wet. They were then to leave their husband and return home. Beaver went back to his own country, [some say “in the sky”, others “to the east”] and took his wives with him. The women examined the feathers every day, and knew that their husband was faithful. A long time afterwards Beaver met his former wife, who made love to him. He was unable to resist, and had connection with her. On the following morning, when his wives went for water, they found the feathers wet. They said, “We will leave our husband, for our father told us to do this. Heat will come, and the people will suffer for this.” Soon great clouds appeared, and the women disappeared in them. [Some people say “they ascended to the sky”] Such a great heat came, that finally the water boiled. People jumped into the streams and lakes to cool themselves, and died. Beaver’s first wife was the first one to die of the heat. Beaver put his brothers in a shady place, and covered them thickly with brush and grass to keep them cool. All the people died excepting Beaver and his brothers. When the weather became cool again, Beaver made snowshoes for his brothers, and left them. He went off to search for his wives. He found their tracks and followed them. He found their old camps, with lynx-meat cooked by suspending it from a pole with hook and line before the fire. He did not touch any of the meat, and always camped off to the side. At last he came to a camp where the wood was still smoking. It was their last camp before reaching their parents. Beaver camped to the side of it. That night his father-in-law came into his camp and took up his place on the opposite side of the fire. Both men hung their trousers above the fire to dry. Neither of them spoke. In the night the cannibal interchanged the trousers, putting his own where Beaver’s had been. Beaver arose very early in the morning, threw the cannibal’s trousers into the fire, and put on his own. When the cannibal discovered that he had no trousers, he said it would be very bad for him if the sun got up and he were without trousers. Beaver had two pairs, and the cannibal begged Beaver to give him one pair. When the sun was about to get up, Beaver took pity on him and gave him a pair, which he at once put on. The cannibal then acknowledged that Beaver was more powerful than he, and left him, ascending towards the sky. [Some people say “to the sky,” for this cannibal was the Sun and lived there.] Beaver watched where he went, and, following, came to where his wives were. He took them back, and travelled to where people were. After he had met them, they all travelled together. As they journeyed, two Ravens began to fly ahead of them. The Ravens drove all the game away, so that the people could not get any. It was winter, and they began to starve. When people died, the Ravens picked out their eyes. At last all the people had died excepting Beaver and his wives. The Ravens flew over them, saying, “Yes, you are alive yet, but it will not be for long. You will soon be dead too, and then we shall eat your eyes.” The Ravens always flew ahead of them wherever they travelled, and at night roosted on a tree near by. It was moonlight, and Beaver burrowed under the snow until he was past the tree where the Ravens were sleeping. Then he ran ahead, and found the country full of caribou and other game that the Ravens had been driving ahead. He killed many caribou, and returned the way he had come. Beaver now pretended to be dead to deceive the Ravens. He told his wives to put his hands up near his eyes and cover him with brush. The Ravens awoke at daybreak, and, looking down, saw that Beaver seemed to be dead. Beaver’s wives left, crying. The Ravens flew over their heads, saying, “Yes, by and by you will be dead also, and we shall pick out your eyes.” They flew back and alighted on the brush. Here they disputed as to which eye each would take. Beaver suddenly seized their legs, and they begged to be let off. Beaver, however, had no mercy on them, and burned them alive in the campfire, saying, “What about the people you have killed? Why should I spare you?” Beaver now went out to where he had killed the caribou. When he was about to return home, he smeared blood over his snowshoes, so his wives would know that he had killed game.

The narrator said that there was more of this story, but he did not remember it.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Atcecq kills buffalo

In a time of famine, a group of Indigenous people discovered buffalo but lacked the means to hunt them. A boy named Atcecq took initiative, despite the community’s anger and threats against him. He skillfully hunted the buffalo, distributing the meat based on family size, thereby saving the community from starvation. This tale highlights themes of courage and resourcefulness.

Source: 
The Beaver Indians
by Pliny Earle Goddard
The American Museum of Natural History – Anthropological Papers
Volume X, Part 4
New York, 1912


► Themes of the story


Hero’s Journey: Atcecq embarks on a transformative adventure, taking initiative to hunt the buffalo and ultimately becoming a hero to his people.

Conflict with Authority: Atcecq defies the community’s decision to wait until the next day to hunt, challenging their authority by acting on his own.

Sacrifice: Atcecq risks his life and faces the community’s wrath to provide food for his people, sacrificing his safety for their well-being.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Dane-zaa people


One time when a band of Indians were without food, someone saw some buffalo. They did not have guns and since the buffalo were in an open place without cover they did not know how they could get them. They decided to wait until the next day when they could make a fence and drive them into a corral.

A boy, named Atcecq, started after the buffalo by himself, and the people were all angry. “Let us kill him,” they were saying. They went after him. They prepared a large fire for him and sat down by it waiting for him. As he was coming back he found his grandmother who had raised him, sitting behind the fire crying.

► Continue reading…

“Why are you crying, grandmother?” he asked. “These people say they are going to kill you,” she replied. “Show me which one of them says that of me,” he asked of his grandmother. They were afraid of him.

Then they started after the buffalo and found them still where they had been seen. “Be careful, they might see us,” they said. The boy followed along after the others. They also told him to take care the buffalo did not see him. This boy had killed all the buffalo. From a man who had many children he had taken two of his arrows, but if there was only one child he took only one arrow. With these arrows he had killed all the buffalo, allotting them one or two animals according to the number of children. They were all saved from starving.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

The Dog-Rib legend of Ithenhiela; or, the creation of the Rocky Mountains

The Dog-Rib legend of Ithenhiela, as recounted by James Mackintosh Bell in 1903, tells of Naba-Cha, an enormous and cruel man from Canada’s Northwest. He mistreats Ithenhiela, a young Wood-Cree boy known as the Caribou-Footed. The tale explores themes of power, cruelty, and the natural world’s mysteries, offering insight into the Dog-Rib people’s rich oral traditions.

Source: 
The Fireside Stories of the Chippwyans
by James Mackintosh Bell
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.16, No.61, pp. 73-84
April-June, 1903


► Themes of the story


Creation: The narrative explains the origin of the Rocky Mountains.

Hero’s Journey: Ithenhiela embarks on a transformative adventure to confront Naba-Cha.

Cultural Heroes: Ithenhiela serves as a foundational figure shaping the natural landscape.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chipewyan people


The first religious ceremony at which I was present with the Dog-Ribs and Hare-Skins remains vividly in my memory, and shows how thoroughly they mix the picturesque of their old religion with that of the new. It was at the celebration of the midnight mass at a northern Roman Catholic mission. The Indians had travelled long distances across the snow, from the depths of the forest to the southward, from the wind-swept Barren Lands to the eastward, and from the lonely lake country to the northward, to be present at the ceremony. Some 600 in all had assembled, and, dressed in fur costumes, knelt upon the floor of the rude log church as the priest, a Frenchman of old France, sang the majestic service. When he reached the Adeste fideles, he sang one verse through in his rich Gascon voice, and then all the Indians joined with him, and finished the beautiful hymn in Dog-Rib.

► Continue reading…

I stood at the door of the church as the Indians came out and noted the impression the service had left on their countenances. The sky was bright with a thousand colors, the ever-changing beauty of the northern lights, which flickered and faded and relighted as the Indians passed me. Looking up to the heavens, they saw that strange phenomenon which is to them the most mysterious thing of nature. “Ah,” they said with their faces bowed before this great light, “’tis the fingers of Ithenhiela beckoning us to the home beyond the sky. Now some of us will pass to that great country which we know not.” Later I heard the story of Ithenhiela, and to me it was the most beautiful of all the Dog-Rib stories. It is as follows:

In the great Northwest of Canada there flows one of the mightiest rivers of the earth, known to the whites as the Mackenzie, and to the Northern Indians as the Too-cha-Tes or Big Water. On the very border of the Arctic Circle another great river joins the Big Water from the southwest. This river the Dog-Ribs still know as “the river that flows from the country of the Big Man.”

Naba-Cha, or the Big Man, was one of the most enormous men who ever lived. His wigwam was made of three hundred skins of the largest caribou that could be killed on the vast plains far to the northward. It had taken the bark of six huge birch-trees to make the onogan from which he daily ate his meals. And it took one whole moose, or two caribou, or fifty partridges, to feed him each day. Famous indeed was Naba-Cha throughout the whole North Country, and many were the expeditions of war he had made into distant lands to the north, east, south, and west. He had travelled northward to the mouth of the Big Water to fight the Snow Men or Eskimo, eastward across the Great Lake of Many Slaves to the country of the Yellow Knives, where he had seen the pure copper shining in the sands of mighty rivers, southward away on to the great plains to the country of the Crees, where there were so many large animals, — but westward he had never ventured far, because in that direction it was said that a bigger man than Naba-Cha dwelt. Now Naba-Cha was not only big, but he was also cruel and wicked, especially to a young Wood-Cree boy whom he had brought back from the South once when on the warpath, and who had neither father nor mother nor sister nor brother to help fight. Ithenhiela, the Caribou-Footed, as the boy was called, had, however, one great friend at the wigwam of Naba-Cha. This was Hottah, the two-year-old moose, the cleverest of all the northern animals. Truly he was clever, for he had travelled all the distance from the mouth of the Too-Cha-Tes to the wigwam of Naba-Cha in three days, and this was very far indeed. Now Hottah had long thought of a plan by which he might help Ithenhiela. He knew that far to the westward, much beyond where Naba-Cha had ever gone, flowed another river almost as great as Too-Cha-Tes, and that safety for a hunted man or beast lay on its farther side, because there dwelt Nesnabi, the Good Man.

One day Hottah came to Ithenhiela, and said to him, “We will go away. You get a stone, a clod of earth, a piece of moss, and a branch of a tree, and we shall escape from the cruel Naba-Cha.” Ithenhiela got what he was told to get, and soon they were ready to be off. Hottah took Ithenhiela upon his back, and before long they were out on the great plains which lie many days beyond the Too-Cha-Tes. Hardly had they started when they saw coming behind them Naba-Cha on his great caribou. Then said Hottah, “Fling out behind you your clod of earth.” Hottah did so, and immediately there rose up behind them, and between them and Naba-Cha, great hills of earth so wide and so high that it was many days before Naba-Cha again came in sight. And during this time Ithenhiela ate the ripened berries, while Hottah chewed the sweet grass which grew beyond the hills.

When Naba-Cha once more appeared in sight, Ithenhiela flung out behind him the piece of moss, and a great muskeg-swamp lay behind them. And for days the great man and his caribou floundered in the thick sphagnum. Meanwhile, on and on towards the country of the Setting Sun passed Hottah and Ithenhiela. And when once more Naba-Cha appeared, Ithenhiela dropped the stone, and great indeed were the high rocky hills which intervened between them and Naba-Cha, Up to the very clouds rose the hills, white with snow, and magnificent, such as had never been seen before. Long was it before the fugitives again saw Naba-Cha and the great caribou, and far had they gone towards the West before Ithenhiela had to throw the branch of the tree from him. Then arose a great and mighty forest of which the trees were so thick that Naba-Cha could not pass between them, and had to cut his way through, while the caribou was left behind because his horns had stuck in the branches, and he could not pass on. All this delay helped Ithenhiela; and when he once more saw the cruel Naba-Cha, he and his moose-friend had already crossed the Great Western River which they had tried so hard to reach. Away into the Northwest wound Tes-Yukon, through the high rocky hills to the northward, foaming as it flowed. Soon came Naba-Cha to the other side of the Tes-Yukon, and called aloud, “Help me, Hottah, across this mighty river. Help me to reach the country that lies beyond, and I shall do no harm to Ithenhiela.” Then across for him went Hottah; and as he brought him back across the great Tes-Yukon, he overturned him, and down he swept through the swirling rapids of the river, and was lost. This was the last of the wicked Naba-Cha.

Then came Hottah to Ithenhiela standing upon the bank, and, turning to him, he said, “Ithenhiela, I must leave you now, and return whence I came. Go you and follow this great river, and soon you will come to a great tepee. This is the home of Nesnabi, the Good Man. Great indeed is he, and far has he travelled, into our country to the eastward, among the golden rivers lost in mountains to the southward, to the great water which has no ending to the westward, and to the silent plains, all snow-covered, to the northward, where live the Snow-Men. He, like Naba-Cha, is big, but he is not cruel, and harms no one. He will aid you.” Then departed Ithenhiela, and following the bends of the great Tes-Yukon through the high spruce forest, he came to the wigwam of Nesnabi, who stood silent beside his home. “Whence have you come, young man,” said he, “and where are you going?” At this, up spoke Ithenhiela, “Great Chief, I have come from far. I have neither father nor mother nor brother nor sister. My home was with my own people away in the South Country, and there I lived happily until the coming of Naba-Cha, who took me away with him to the cruel North Country, where the snow lasts long in winter, by the sweeping waters of the Too-Cha-Tes. Hard indeed was Naba-Cha to me, and many a season passed I in misery with him, until I came away with Hottah, the two-year-old moose who brought me to your country, O Great Nesnabi, and but now has he left me.” To this answered the kind Nesnabi, “Ithenhiela, I have long known that you would come to me. Stay with me as long as you like, but if at the end of the week you wish to journey away, I will then prepare you for your journey farther into the West Country.”

Thus it was that Ithenhiela stayed at the wigwam of Nesnabi; but when the week was done, he came to his protector, and said to him, “I must now leave you, and travel farther. Give me that preparation for my journey that you have promised me.” Then took Nesnabi seven arrows from his wigwam, and said to him, “This is enough to help you, Ithenhiela, but should you shoot at any bird or beast in a spruce-tree and the arrow stick in the branches, take you care that you go not after it, for if you do, surely something will happen to you.” Hardly had Ithenhiela left the good Nesnabi, when he saw a squirrel in the branches of a red spruce-tree, and, raising his bow, he shot an arrow at it, Down fell the squirrel, but the arrow lodged in the branches. At once, Ithenhiela, forgetting what Nesnabi had told him, started to climb after the arrow. As he mounted, the arrow went up, too. Up, up, they went, until at last they came to the sky, and the arrow passed through, and he after it. Great was Ithenhiela’s surprise when he entered the Sky Country. It was so different from what he had expected. He had imagined a glorious country, where the sun always shone, and where herds of musk oxen, caribou, and moose roamed at large in plenty, with many of his own people camped in large wigwams here and there. But instead, the air was damp, dreary, and cold; no trees or flowers grew; no herds of animals ran on the silent plains; the smoke of no wigwam greeted his anxious eyes; the war-whoop or hunting-cry of no Indian of his own people was heard; only, far in the distance against the sky shimmered a great white mass, like a pile of snow, when the sun shines upon it in the early summer. Towards this great white thing ran a winding path from the very spot where Ithenhiela stood. “I will follow it,” thought he, “and see what I come to, and find out what lies in that blazing wigwam over there. As he passed along, he met an old woman who said to him, “Who are you, and where are you going?” “I have come from far,” said Ithenhiela. “I am the Caribou-Footed, Can you tell me who lives over there in that big white wigwam?” “Ah,” said Capoteka, “I know you, Ithenhiela. Long have I thought you would come here. But you have done wrong; this is no country for man. In that great wigwam over there lives Hatempka; and unhappy is he because he has lost his belt of medicine, and until he gets it again, no one will be happy in the Sky Country. The belt is at the tepee of the two blind women who live far beyond the wigwam which shines so white, and no one can get it from them. Whoever finds it, and gets it from the bad blind women, will have the daughter of Hatempka, the beautiful Etanda, for his wife.” Off then started Ithenhiela, and, travelling hard, soon came he to the home of the two old blind women. And as he entered the wigwam, he saw hanging upon the side the belt of Hatempka, and many indeed were the skulls which hung about it, for many had gone to seek the belt, but none had returned. The blind women bade him welcome, and said to him, “When you leave, Ithenhiela, tell us, so that we may bid you good-by.” Now Ithenhiela had noticed that each of the two old women had behind her back a knife of copper, long and sharp. “Ah!” thought he, “when I leave, they mean to kill me,” for one sat on either side of the door in readiness, “but I shall fool them.” In one part of the wigwam lay a muskamoot (or bag) of bones and feathers. To this he tied a string, which he pulled over the pole above the door. Then said he, “I am going now, blind women. Remember I am old and fat, and when I leave, I make much noise.” At this he pulled the string, and towards the door passed the bag of bones and feathers. Immediately the two old blind women stabbed; but striking only feathers, the long knives passed through them into each other, and both were killed. Then took Ithenhiela the belt of medicine, and went he unto the shining white home of Hatempka, and said to him, “Great chief, be you happy now, I have brought to you your healing” belt. Give me now my wife, your daughter, the beautiful Etanda, that I may leave you.” Then said Hatempka, “Oh! much pleased am I, Ithenhiela. You have saved my people. Now shall the sun shine again. Now shall musk oxen, caribou, moose, and bear live once more in our country. Again shall we see the smoke of many wigwams. Once more shall we hear the voice of many hunters. Take you now my daughter, the fair Etanda, but leave me not. Stay with me, and be a great man after me.” So Ithenhiela remained at the shining white home of Hatempka.

Hence was derived the name and country of the Big Man. Still the Indians in that distant country, when the northern lights flit across the sky, see in them the fingers of Ithenhiela, beckoning them to the home he has found for them so far away.

The influx of fur-traders into the Mackenzie River region, and even to Great Bear Lake within the last two years, since my return, has, I believe, very much altered the character of the Northern Indians.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

His-Leg-Trembles

The tale is about a man known for his exceptional speed and bravery. In one instance, despite warnings from his companions about two white bears atop a hill, he confronts and defeats them single-handedly. In another episode, he outsmarts a group of Cree warriors who had set a trap using fake caribou decoys, ultimately killing all the Cree.

Source: 
Chipewyan Texts
by Pliny Earle Goddard
The American Museum of Natural History – Anthropological Papers
Volume X, Part 1
New York, 1912


► Themes of the story

Hero’s Journey: The protagonist embarks on daring confrontations, showcasing his courage and strength.

Cultural Heroes: His actions and abilities highlight traits revered in Chipewyan culture, positioning him as a foundational figure.

Trials and Tribulations: The protagonist encounters and successfully navigates various challenges, including ambushes and deceptive traps.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chipewyan people


Once when the Chipewyan were returning from an unsuccessful war party against the Cree, they were approaching the top of a hill. His-leg-trembles was far behind them. “I wonder what those two things are, sitting there ahead of us,” one of them said. When they started up the hill their blankets were blown back. His-leg-trembles came up to the party and started to climb the hill. “I want to see what they are,” he said. “Do not go up there, there are some white bears living under the top of the hill,” the others said to him. “I like to see something frightful,” he said, “I am going to look at them.” “No, do not,” the others urged him. “I am going to look,” he said. The string which held the blanket around his neck broke when it Was blown back by the wind. He ran around the two white bears who were sitting there waiting for him, making the ashes fly until nothing could be seen.

► Continue reading…

When the ashes settled, they saw the two bears lying with their heads away from each other and His-leg-trembles standing a little way from them leaning upon his little old spear. That man could run so fast that nothing could catch him. Without running very hard, he could keep along beside a young caribou.

At another time the Cree had put some willow sticks on a lake making them look like the horns of caribou. The Chipewyan thought they were caribou and hung pieces of clothing about the lake to prevent the caribou from running out and began to hunt them. While they were going to their several positions, they came where His-leg-trembles was sitting. On a point of land nearly opposite the side, they thought they heard a noise. It sounded like shouting but they were not certain. Then a big woman came near. “Niece, what has happened,” they asked. “’The Cree have put up sticks,’ Thananye told me. Then I started from there in a straight line, running sidewise that I might go faster. Over in the middle of the lake, I saw the Cree fighting. When I was about to run into them, I stopped. I slipped and fell under the Cree. ‘I will spear that mean little child,’ one of them thought to himself. They were holding their spears ready for me, but the spear points all came together behind me. Then I saw him standing there, it was so quickly done.” He had killed all the Cree.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page