Tag: 17. Cultural Heroes

Foundational figures who shape societies

Creation of people by the wolverene and the muskrat

A wolverene encounters a muskrat-woman at a riverbank, woos her to live on land, and together they raise five children. Each child—born by a unique means—is proclaimed by the wolverene to be the ancestor of a major human group (whites, Indians, Eskimos, Iroquois, and Negroes). When grown, their mother sends them to different lands, advising them to turn to white people whenever in need.

Source: 
Ethnology of the Ungava District, 
Hudson Bay Territory 
by Lucien M. Turner 
Smithsonian Institution 
Bureau of American Ethnology 
Annual Report 11, 1889-1890 
Washington, 1894

► Themes of the story


Origin of Things: The story provides a mythic explanation for the origins of different human peoples.

Prophecy and Fate: The wolverene foretells the identity and destiny of each child before their birth.

Cultural Heroes: Each child is decreed to become the founding ancestor of a distinct human group.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Naskapi people

As a wolverene was wandering along the bank of a river he saw a muskrat swimming in the edge of the water. He accosted the latter animal with the inquiry, “Who are you? Are you a man or a woman?” The muskrat answered, “I am a woman.” The wolverene informed her that he would take her for a wife. The muskrat replied, “I live in the water; how can I be your wife?” The wolverene told her that she could live on the land as well as in the water. The muskrat went up on the bank to where the wolverene was standing. They selected a place and she began to prepare a home for them. They ate their suppers and retired. Soon after, a child was born. The wolverene informed his wife that it would be a white man and father of all the white people.

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When this child was born it made a natural exit. In due time a second child was born which the wolverene decreed should be an Indian and the father of their kind. This child was born from its mother’s mouth. After a time a third child was born, and the wolverene announced it to be an Eskimo and father of its kind. This child was born ab ano. In the natural course of events a fourth child was born, and the wolverene decided it to be an Iroquois and father of its kind. This child was born from its mother’s nose. After a time a fifth child was born and the wolverene decreed it should be a Negro and father of its kind. This child was born from its mother’s ears. These children remained with their parents until they grew up. Their mother then called them together and announced to them that they must separate. She sent them to different places of the land, and, in parting, directed them to go to the white men whenever they were in need of anything, as the whites would have everything ready for them.

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Wisagatcak

Story recounts Wisagatcak’s cunning flood survival: after breaking a beaver dam and drifting on a makeshift raft with animals, he magically conjures new land, assigns animals their diets and anatomical traits, and demonstrates trickster wit in episodes involving wildfowl and a bear. His mischief explains natural features—from subterranean springs to tree growth patterns—before he vanishes, leaving a world shaped by his clever deeds.

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


Origin of Things: The story explains how the earth, creeks, and animal diets originated through Wisagatcak’s actions.

Trickster: Wisagatcak repeatedly uses cunning schemes—trapping beavers, ensnaring birds, and outwitting others—to achieve his goals.

Cultural Heroes: Wisagatcak is portrayed as the ancestral figure whose deeds shape the world and its creatures.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people

Albany Cree

One winter day, Wisagatcak was chiseling for mythical “big” beaver. He caught the beaver by shutting up the creek with stakes, leaving an opening in the center of the stream. He stood there waiting all day for the beaver to try to swim through the opening and escape. Towards evening, he saw one coming along, but just as he was about to kill it. Muskrat stole up behind and scratched his anus. This startled Wisagatcak so that he failed to slay his quarry. At last, it grew so dark that he could no longer see the game, so he went ashore and built a fire without eating anything. He thought to himself, “Tomorrow, I will try to break the beaver dam and dry up the creek.”

Early the next morning, Wisagatcak arose and made a pointed stick, or spear, from juniper. With this he broke the dam, and when it was broken, the water began to rise, so that at last Wisagatcak could no longer stand on the ground.

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When this happened, he made a raft of logs and got on that. He took aboard a pair of every kind of animal and stayed there with them for two weeks. They drifted about, for there was no chance to anchor anywhere. While all this happened the Big Beaver were conjuring against Wisagatcak to revenge themselves for breaking their dam. After two weeks had passed, Wisagatcak wished to know the depth of the water underneath the raft so he took Muskrat and tied a long string to his feet and told him to dive under the water and bring up some mud.

The rat went down; he was unable to reach the bottom and was drowned before Wisagatcak could pull him up. Wisagatcak waited for three days and then sent the crow to see if he could find any dry land. He told Crow if he found any he was to bring back some moss; but Crow came back empty-billed.

When Wisagatcak learned this, he was frightened. He had a little moss on his raft and he took it and began to conjure. The next day, he told Wolf to take the moss in his mouth and run around the raft with it. Wolf did as he was told and as soon as he ran around the raft, earth began to appear and grow on it. Wolf continued to run around for a week while the land kept on growing larger. It continued to grow for two weeks. At the end of this time. Wolf had made it so big that he never came back. Since the earth is built over water, this accounts for the existence of subterranean springs.

When Wolf had been gone a week and had not yet returned, Wisagatcak said to the other animals, “Well, the ground must now be big enough for us to live on.” Beaver asked Wisagatcak. “How are we going to live? We are now eating willows and poplars and there are as yet no trees on the earth for us to live on.” Wisagatcak replied, “Just wait, you will need a little creek to live in also.” “Yes,” said Beaver. “I’ll do something tonight,” said Wisagatcak.

That night Wisagatcak conjured again. He dug down through the earth over the raft to get a log from it; but the earth was now so great he could not find any trace of his raft. When Wisagatcak failed to get even a stick he said to Beaver, “Well, I’ll make a creek for you, and you may live on the roots of the grass until trees grow up.” That is why Beaver eats certain white roots to this day although his proper diet is bark.

When Wisagatcak had built the creek for Beaver, he dwelt in it. After a while, Wisagatcak came back and found that Beaver had dug trenches everywhere in his search for roots. He saw one beaver swimming about. “Come here brother,” he said, for he was the older brother of all the animals. The beaver refused to go. “Why do you call me,” said Beaver, “when you only wish to kill me?” Then Wisagatcak was angry and said, “I’ll never come again.” He never did.

One time, when Wisagatcak was out hunting, he saw a great number of wild fowl and said to himself, “What can I do to get them?” He was carrying a big bag and he thought he would pull up some moss and fill his bag with that. He did so, and when he had stuffed it full he went away, carrying it on his back. When the wild fowl saw Wisagatcak’s bundle, they approached and asked, “What is that you are carrying on your back?” Wisagatcak stopped and replied, “This is my ‘singing wigwam’ (sic) where I used to sing and dance.” Then he took out the moss and made a lodge of it. When the wild fowl saw the wigwam, they came over and went in. Wisagatcak said to the birds, “When I sing, take care to do everything that I say to do.” Then all the wild fowl began to dance.

After Wisagatcak had sung for some time, he cried out in the song for all the birds to shut their eyes, and dance in a circle, with their heads and necks inward and close together. When the birds did this, Wisagatcak took a cord and made a running noose of it which he threw over the necks of all the birds at once and so succeeded in strangling a great many of them. When Loon heard the dying beat of the wild fowls’ wings he began to open his eyes and peep. As soon as he saw that the birds were being killed, he cried out, “Wisagatcak is killing us,” and ran to the door. Wisagatcak pursued Loon, and just as he was escaping through the door, Wisagatcak managed to kick him squarely in the rump. This accounts for the peculiar shape of the loon’s rump bone today.

Then thought Wisagatcak to himself, “I wonder how I can cook all these birds.” He dug down under the sand by the fireplace for he intended to roast the fowls by burying them in the hot sand. In order to remember where he had put them, he left one leg of each bird sticking up above the surface. When he had done this, Wisagatcak wished to have a good sleep but before going to bed he said to his rump, “Well, you had better watch while I sleep.”

At last, someone passing by saw the tent. He waited until he was sure Wisagatcak was asleep and then he came and peeped in at the door. The faithful rump gave warning by breaking wind, Wisagatcak roused at once, jumped up, and looked about. The marauder, however, had disappeared and Wisagatcak saw no one and returned to bed. “Don’t you fool me like that again,” he said to his rump.

As soon as the intruder heard Wisagatcak snore again, he came and peeped in the tent once more. Again, Wisagatcak’s rump gave tongue. Wisagatcak leaped up and looked out, but again the culprit escaped him. As Wisagatcak could see no one, he spoke very sharply to his rump for deceiving him. Then he went back to his bed. As soon as he was asleep the man came and looked in again but this time Wisagatcak’s rump was angry because it had been reproved twice, and failed to give warning. Then the man entered Wisagatcak’s wigwam and stole all the geese and other wild fowl. The thief pulled off one foot from each and to deceive Wisagatcak stuck them up in the sand around the fire where the birds had been. At length, Wisagatcak awoke and being very hungry, he commenced to pull up his geese, but all that he could find were the feet, so he knew he had been robbed while he slept.

Wisagatcak was very angry with his rump for not warning him of the thief’s approach. So he put a stone in the fire and heated it red hot. When it was hot enough he took off his leggings and breechclout and sat upon the stone to burn his rump to punish it for its treachery. As he sat on the hot stones he began to break wind and continued to do so. “Look here now,” said Wisagatcak to his anus, “you suffer because you did not warn me.” When he had finished burning it, it was withered and shaped like everyone’s else and there was a deep crease burned in the middle. That is why mankind has the rump shaped in this way. Formerly, a man’s rump was puckered like that of a frog.

When Wisagatcak had done this, he went hurrying off and left his wigwam standing. He took his bow and arrows to hunt game, for he was very hungry since he had lost his dinner. At every step he took he broke wind, “Poop! poop! poop!” and so his rump revenged itself by warning all the game and spoiling his hunting.

At length, Wisagatcak began to starve because he could not approach the game. “Don’t make any more noise,” said he to his rump, “and I’ll give you something to eat.” There was a big scab on his rump where he had burned it, and at last it dropped off. As Wisagatcak was starving, he picked up the scab and began to eat it. He thought it was dried meat. [Some narrators claim he knew it was his scab, but others hold the contrary to be true.] The squirrel saw Wisagatcak eating the scab and he could not help laughing. “That is your own scab you are eating,” said he to Wisagatcak. Then Wisagatcak threw his scab at the birch tree and the punk of rotten birches is of that scab. Then Wisagatcak pounded the tree with a stick as well and thus he marked the bark in the way one sees it today.

After Wisagatcak had done this, he went away from there. He saw a bear eating berries. He approached the bear to shoot it but his rump broke wind and warned the bear that Wisagatcak was coming. When the bear heard and saw Wisagatcak coming he would run off, but Wisagatcak called out, “Hold on, my brother.” The bear answered, “I did not know you were a brother of mine.” Wisagatcak replied, “Don’t you know? Long ago, we were brothers; we will eat berries together. Do you see that thing sticking up out of the water there?” “No,” said the bear. “Don’t you see that thing sticking out of the water?” said Wisagatcak. “No, I see nothing,” said the bear. “Do you know what I have done?” said Wisagatcak, “Formerly, I used to see as poorly as you do, but I mashed berries and put them in my eyes.”

Then the bear thought he would like to see as well as Wisagatcak so he began to mash berries and put them in his eyes. “After I had done that,” said Wisagatcak, “I went to bed and had a short nap. I had a stone for my pillow too.” The bear did likewise. When the bear fell asleep Wisagatcak took up a big stone and mashed the bear’s head with it and killed him. [One version of this tale makes Wisagatcak turn into a bear and live with his intended victim until he got fat in the fall.] Then Wisagatcak skinned the bear. He cut it in pieces and cooked them all. He preserved the grease and intestines. He did not attempt to eat until he had cooked all of it. While he was cooking he looked up and saw Muskrat swimming in the river. As the grease would not harden, he called to the rat to take it and swim through the water with it. When Muskrat returned with the grease, Wisagatcak stripped all the flesh from his tail to reward him for his services. That is why it is so thin and skinny now, whereas formerly it was fat and broad like a beaver’s and too heavy for him. “Try now and see how fast you can go,” said Wisagatcak to Muskrat. Muskrat tried and went so fast that he broke the grease bladder and the grease and oil came out. This accounts for the smooth slick wake the muskrat leaves when swimming. It is the bear’s oil and grease calming the water.

“Now, I will eat my bear,” said Wisagatcak. He began to eat, but he was soon so full that he could hold no more. Then he went over to where two trees were standing close together. He stood between them and said, “Squeeze me until my stomach is stretched so far that I can finish my bear at one meal.” At once, the trees came together and began to squeeze Wisagatcak. When they held Wisagatcak so closely that he could not get away, they called out to all the animals to come and eat his bear.

All the animals came at once and though Wisagatcak begged the trees to let him go, they held him fast until his bear was eaten. When it was all gone, they released him. Of all the animals, Seal got the most grease, and Rabbit the least. That is why Seal is so fat and Rabbit so lean. When the trees finally released Wisagatcak, he was very angry. He started to revenge himself on them by twisting them with his hands. That is the reason some trees are spirally twisted in their growth.

Wisagatcak went away. It was late in the fall and all the birds were flying south. He told them he would like to go with them. “I can fly as well as you,” said he. He started off. The birds said to him, “If you see any people when you are flying, don’t look at them, for if you do so, you will fall down.” They all flew away and soon Wisagatcak saw some people. He looked hard at them and down he fell and was smashed to pieces. Then he resumed his human shape, for he had been a bird when he was flying.

Then the Indians he had looked at came up. He was unable to get up for some time, and whenever they felt like evacuating, they would go over and do it upon Wisagatcak. At last, an old woman came. Wisagatcak saw her approach, jumped up, and seized a stick which he shoved up her anus. He killed the old woman and ran his stick in the ground, leaving her upon it as meat is placed on a spit to roast before the fire. Then he went home.

Once Wisagatcak was traveling. As he went along he met three sisters who had never seen a man before. “Ah,” thought Wisagatcak, “I will show them something.” He had been hunting beaver and had a freshly severed beaver’s head in his hand. “Let us play a new game,” said Wisagatcak to the best looking sister. “You take hold of one jaw and I will take the other and we will sit down, place our feet together, and pull apart.” They did as Wisagatcak suggested and bracing their feet against each other, began to pull. When the woman was exerting her utmost strength, Wisagatcak let go.

Prostratam mulierem, vestibus sublatis genitalibas conspectis, stupravit. Ilia exclamavit, “Wisagatcak me interficiti” Tunc sorores eum detrahere, “minime mihi malum facit.” Cum Wisagatcak earn stuprasset, mulier iterum cum eo coire voluit, sed sorores quare tantam ex novo ludo cepit delectationem nesciebant et ludum euodem disure concupiverunt. [He stripped the woman of her clothes and raped her. She exclaimed, “Wisagatcak, I have been killed.” Then the sisters pulled him away, “He is not doing me any harm.” When Wisagatcak had raped her, the woman wanted to have sex with him again, but the sisters did not know why she took such pleasure in this new game, and they desperately wanted to play the same game.] So she could not keep him to herself. Very soon Wisagatcak was very nearly dead, but they insisted upon his continuing the play. Finally, he escaped, but he was almost dead.

At last, Wisagatcak went to the north. On the other side of Winisk-sibi (Ground Hog or Woodchuck River) he met the north wind who was traveling in the same direction. To escape from the north wind he built a shelter of rocks which may still be seen there to this day. It is just the size of a man. After this happened, nobody knows what became of Wisagatcak.

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The History of the Che-che-puy-ew-tis

After his mother’s death at the hands of a devil, an unborn child is saved by a helpful mouse and later reunited with his brother. Together they avenge their parents and survive harrowing adventures, including underwater explorations and repeated attacks by lynxes. Seeking a wife, the younger brother tests various animal partners before settling with a beaver, only to be transformed into one himself—becoming the ancestral spirit and protector of his new tribe.

Source: 
The History of the Che-che-puy-ew-tis 
A legend of the Northern Crees 
by Robert Bell 
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.10, No.36, pp. 1-8
January-March, 1897

► Themes of the story


Origin of Things: Explains how the beaver tribe and the Canada jay acquired their distinctive traits.

Cultural Heroes: Che-che-puy-ew-tis emerges as a wise founder and counselor of the beaver people.

Journey to the Otherworld: The hero dives into an underwater wigwam at the lake’s bottom.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Cree people

The following is the most complete account of the hero which I have obtained. It was compiled by Mr. C.H.M. Gordon, at Rupert’s House, near the southeastern extremity of James Bay, from several versions of the narrative, as told by different Indians living in that part of the country, and I give it mostly in his own words.

Once upon a time there lived an Indian, his wife, and their only son. The period had nearly arrived for the woman to be delivered of her second child. The husband had a presentiment that something was going to happen to his wife, for he repeatedly warned her when he went off hunting to take care of herself, and that if any sign of danger arose she was to hide their son under the brush flooring of the wigwam.

One day, while the man was away from the wigwam hunting, a Toosh, or devil, came, and finding only the woman in the tent, cruelly killed and disembowelled her, throwing aside the womb containing the unborn child.

The Indian returned from his hunt and found the mutilated corpse of his wife, but he was in time to catch the Toosh, which he put to an ignominious death. His son he found alive, as his wife had taken the precaution to hide him under the brush of the wigwam floor, as she had been told.

For a number of days the man remained in his tent, mourning the death of his wife.

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It happened that just after the womb had been thrown aside, an A-pook-a-shish (mouse) chanced to hunt in that direction, and saw what she thought to be food, but on nibbling at it she was surprised to find it quivering, and on further examination she saw what proved to be a living child. Being of a kind disposition, she took it home and nursed it tenderly, and called it Che-che-puy-ew-tis (the little one that moves or quivers). The Indian and his son now moved their wigwam (which is an universal custom among these people when a death has occurred).

When the son had almost arrived at manhood he became a keen hunter, but was very unfortunate in losing his arrows. So frequently did this happen that at last he told his father of it. “Come now,” said the old man, “shoot an arrow a short distance from where we stand, and we cannot fail to see what will become of it.” The boy did as he was told, and was surprised to see an A-pook-a-shish run away with it. “This is how my arrows are lost,” he said. “I will follow and see where she takes them.” He did so, and came to the wigwam of the A-pook-a-shish. On entering he saw all the arrows he had lost, but they were in possession of a young boy, who was amusing himself with them. The A-pook-a-shish now told the young man that this child was his brother, and related exactly the manner in which she had saved him, but cautioned him not to tell his father when he returned, as the old man might not be pleased. The lad did as the A-pook-a-shish told him, and after that he often went and visited his brother. Occasionally, when they thought the father was absent, they returned home together.

The father at last noticed that there were footprints of two sizes about the tent, and questioned his son regarding them. But the boy, still wishing to keep secret the identity of his brother, gave a misleading answer. The A-pook-a-shish having heard about it, said it would be much better for them to go to the wigwam together, for sooner or later their father would be certain to find them out: So Che-che-puy-ew-tis took his little brother home to their father’s wigwam.

When the Indian returned in the evening with his hunt, he noticed the boy in the tent, and asked his son who the little stranger was, and where he had found him. The lad told him it was his young brother, and related how the A-pook-a-shish had discovered him after the murder of his mother, and gave him full particulars, which satisfied the man that this was really his child. He pretended to be very glad, and told his sons to go at once to the A-pook-a-shish’s wigwam with the meat of a whole beaver, and thank her for having rescued his son. But all the time he was meditating on a scheme to get rid of both the boys, as he intended taking a second wife. Still, for some time after this they all lived together in harmony with one another.

Whilst the father was off hunting, the sons always used to remain about the wigwam, but they noticed that he always went to hunt in one direction, and wondered why he did this. So they made up their minds to follow his path when an opportunity should occur, and find out the reason for his strange behavior.

The next day the old man did not go hunting as usual, so the boys took advantage of this chance to investigate, and they followed up his tracks until they stopped at the margin of a deep lake, and further pursuit seemed impossible. But Che-che-puy-ew-tis was equal to the occasion. He said to his brother: “Pull up some strong spruce-roots [”watap”] fasten them around my waist, then take hold of the other end and I will go under the water. When you feel the roots shake, be sure and pull me out again.” Che-che-puy-ew-tis then went into the water and found, as he expected, a large wigwam in the bottom of the lake. At the door were two Pishews (lynxes). He took hold of both of them, shook the roots, and his brother pulled him to the surface again. They killed the Pishews, and returning presented them to their father; but the old man, instead of being pleased, wept bitterly, and told his sons that hereafter it would be better for them to live separate; so going out of the tent, he left them together.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis, knowing their father was angry, said to his brother: “Our father will certainly come again in the morning, so let us make a number of arrows and be prepared. They did so, and, as the elder brother said, their father appeared in the morning, in company with a number of Pishews, who began to attack the boys; but the arrows they had made the night before played havoc among the Pishews, so that not one of them escaped. The following morning the attack was repeated with a fresh lot of Pishews, but Che-che-puy-ew-tis this time, after the animals were all slaughtered, shot an arrow at his father and slew him also.

The two boys now lived together and were very happy, hunting in company and killing all kinds of game.

Years had passed when one night Che-che-puy-ew-tis was awakened by his brother talking to some person, as he thought, and wondered who it could be. In the morning, when his brother went out, Che-che-puy-ew-tis looked into his robe, but found only some rotten wood. He threw it out of the wigwam, saying, “Why do you soil my brother’s robe?” The next night he again heard his brother in conversation with some unknown person, and in the morning, on looking into his robe, found this time an Atik (frog), which he threw outside with the same exclamation.

Then Che-che-puy-ew-tis said to himself, “I will find wives for my brother,” and he did find them, bringing home two young squaws, whom he presented to him. Thus they lived for some time, the younger brother having two wives and the elder not even one. At length one of the wives became discontented and said to the other: “I will remove to the left side of the wigwam, where our brother-in-law sits. He has no mate, and besides I find it inconvenient for both of us to be staying with one man.” The other wife consented, and the next time the young men returned they found only the oldest of the wives sitting in her usual place on the right side of the wigwam, the youngest having gone over to the left side, where Che-che-puy-ew-tis generally sat

When the men laid down their day’s hunt at the door, as is customary, the youngest of the women pulled Che-che-puy-ew-tis’s share to the side she had taken possession of, which clearly showed that she wanted this hunter for herself. But Che-che-puy-ew-tis did not agree with the arrangement which had been made by the women, and he also knew that his brother would be displeased with it. Besides, he wanted a wife of his own choosing. He therefore left the tent secretly.

After Che-che-puy-ew-tis had walked a considerable distance, he met with an Atik (deer). They conversed together for some time, and then he told her to find a suitable spot on which to erect a wigwam whilst he went hunting for some food for their supper. He returned in the evening and stayed with Atik one night, but would not remain another, as he thought Atik’s legs were too long. So he departed in the morning.

He next met a Muskwa (black bear), but only remained with her one night as he had done with the Atik, her claws being too long and sharp to suit him.

Then he fell in with Kak (porcupine), but again one night was sufficient for him to remain with her. She could not look him straight in the face, her neck being too short and her sharp quills were also very disagreeable. So he left her, as he had done the others, and went on his journey, still determined to find a suitable mate.

The next creature Che-che-puy-ew-tis fell in with was a Wes-ku-chan (“whiskey-jack,” the Canada jay). They made a wigwam for the night, as usual, and Che-che-puy-ew-tis provided a beaver for their supper, leaving it, Indian fashion, at the door. But it proved too heavy for poor Wes-ku-chan to manage, and she broke both her legs in trying to haul the carcass into the tent. Che-che-puy-ew-tis was equal to the occasion, and, taking the string off his bow, he bound the legs up nicely and the little bones soon grew together again, but to this day the marks of the bowstring can be seen on the legs of all Wes-ku-chan’s descendants. Che-che-puy-ew-tis did not remain more than one night with her, she being altogether too inquisitive. So he proceeded on his way again.

All at once an Amisk (beaver) met him, and without waiting to be asked she said to him: “If you want a mate, I will go and live with you.” She appeared more to his taste than the others, so he answered: “Yes, but you must not be lazy. You will always require to work hard; and one thing which I shall insist upon is, that whenever we come upon a creek you must lay brush or sticks for me to walk upon. If you fail once in doing this, the creek will turn into a river and we will be lost to each other.” So the Amisk agreed to the terms and they lived happily together. One day, unfortunately, Amisk (who was supposed to know a creek when she came to one) made a mistake. She was not certain that what she saw was a creek or not, and did not lay sticks or brush for her husband as usual.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis, when he returned to his mate in the evening, was horrified to find that the water at which he had left her had now turned into a large river. He only now found out that Amisk had made a mistake, and he bewailed the loss of his mate for a long time.

Walking one day along the bank of this large river, he saw to his surprise his wife swimming and diving about in the water, evidently enjoying herself. Che-che-puy-ew-tis called out: “Come ashore; you must not leave me.” But Amisk said: “I cannot live ashore any longer; I find this water more to my liking; you had better come to me instead; see how easy it is to swim and dive. Throw me one of your mittens and I will show you that the water is not even wet.” This she said in order to entice Che-che-puy-ew-tis to go to her. He threw one of his mittens to her as she had requested, and Amisk, diving down, brought it to the surface quite dry, having secretly anointed it with her oil. She threw it to Che-che-puy-ew-tis, saying: “Have I not told you that the water will not even wet you, just as it does not wet your mitten?” Che-che-puy-ew-tis was now convinced, so he jumped into the water and was astonished to find that he was quite at home therein, and he stayed with his mate and lived as the beavers live.

Towards the autumn they started to build a house, but Che-che-puy-ew-tis was not at all satisfied with the way Amisk set about it, which was after the manner of the old-time beavers. He knew that, if they did not make it better than that, the Indian hunters would surely be able to kill them, as they had killed so many beavers already, if they should find their house. So he showed Amisk how to fasten the large sticks, knit together the smaller ones, and mix them with stones, and how to plaster it with mud which would freeze solid, till at length they had made quite a secure abode. They lived happily together there for a time, but after a while something happened which broke the harmony, and one day Che-che-puy-ew-tis said to Amisk: “As I left my brother’s wigwam without his knowledge, and as I know he has a great regard for me, I am certain, it being now winter, that he will look everywhere till he finds me, and if he discovers us here he will be sure to kill you. Come, let us make holes along the bank, so that, should the house be broken into, you will be able to escape.”

Several months had passed, and the elder brother (Mejigwis) was very much annoyed at Che-che-puy-ew-tis for having left him without giving any warning, and was displeased with his youngest wife, who had been the cause of his departure. Whilst hunting this winter it had seemed to him that the character of the Westa (beaver houses) had changed,—that the Amisks had constructed them differently from those of former years. In consequence of this he now found it difficult enough to keep his family in beaver meat. At last it dawned upon him that there must be some one wiser than the Amisks themselves guiding and directing them, and who could this person be but his brother Che-che-puy-ew-tis. He therefore redoubled his efforts to find him, and, acting on the idea he had formed, he directed his attention to the beaver-houses. One day, while out hunting, a larger Westa than he had been accustomed to see attracted his attention, and cautiously approaching he broke into it and was rewarded by finding his long-lost brother; but the Amisk escaped to the holes they had made in the bank.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis was brought back to his brother’s wigwam, and the best of everything was given to him, but one thing he stipulated was, that when any of the party brought home a Pay-uko Amisk (a solitary beaver), he was to be sure and mention it, as he was afraid that some day his brother might kill his mate, and he did not wish to eat her, as he knew that something would happen to himself if he did so.

His brother obeyed his wish as long as there were plenty of Amisks to kill, but frequently he was able to bring home only barely sufficient meat to feed the party, and one day he came back to the wigwam with only one beaver, and it was a Pay-uko Amisk. But he did not let Che-che-puy-ew-tis know about it, as they did not like to see him take no part in the meal. So they cooked the Amisk, and first offered Che-che-puy-ew-tis some of the liquid it had been boiled in; but he refused it, saying he feared that, as his brother had killed only one, it might be a Pay-uko Amisk. “Oh, no,” said his brother; “there were quite a number of Amisks along with this one, only all the rest escaped.” So Che-che-puy-ew-tis, believing his brother, drank of the liquor and ate of the flesh; but immediately after he had done so, he was transformed into a real Amisk, and jumping into the creek, on the bank of which the wigwam stood, he dived under the water and was lost forever to his brother. But he still lives as a Kitche-kisai-misk (a great old beaver), and it is his wisdom to this day that prevents the Indians from entirely exterminating the Amisk tribe, of which he is the great chief and counsellor.

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Bladder-Head Boy; or, the monster that ate people

A woman encounters an atix’, a massive, elephant-like creature, while transporting beaver meat. Her husband dismisses her warning and is subsequently devoured by the beast. The woman escapes to a nearby camp, where the atix’ paralyzes the inhabitants with fear. A mistreated boy, known for wearing a moose-bladder on his head, reveals his shamanic powers, dons magic trousers, and kills the creature with enchanted arrows, earning gratitude and two wives.

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


Cultural Heroes: The boy emerges as a foundational figure who saves the community from the monstrous threat, embodying the role of a cultural hero in Kaska folklore.

Conflict with Nature: The community faces a struggle against the atix’, a formidable natural force that endangers their survival.

Trials and Tribulations: The boy confronts and overcomes significant challenges, including societal mistreatment and the formidable task of defeating the atix’, highlighting his resilience and bravery.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Kaska people

A man with his wife and baby were travelling all the time, and netting beaver on the lakes and streams. They came to a big lake, which they crossed, and camped on the other side. One day the woman was dragging to camp a skin toboggan with beaver-meat, carrying her baby on her back. She noticed some large animal approaching, and, being afraid to turn around, looked back between her legs. She saw that the animal was an atix’ and became very much afraid.

Atix’ was a very large kind of animal which roamed the country a long time ago. It corresponded somewhat to white men’s pictures of elephants.

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It was of huge size, in build like an elephant, had tusks, and was hairy. These animals were seen not so very long ago, it is said, generally singly; but none have been seen now for several generations. Indians come across their bones occasionally. The narrator said that he and some others, a few years ago, came on a shoulder-blade which they at first thought was a peculiarly shaped rock, sticking out of the ground. This was on the top of a mountain near the Hyland River. The shoulder-blade was as wide as a table (about three feet), and was covered with about seven inches of moss.

She scattered all the meat in the snow and ran to camp. Her husband would not believe that she had seen this animal, and told her she was simply excusing herself for having given the meat to her sweetheart. She pulled up her clothes, and said, “You can see I have been with no man.” He laughed, and went off to set his beaver-nets. On his return, he went to bed, and was soon sound asleep and snoring. The woman cut a trail to escape through the willow-brush near camp. She then lay down on the opposite side of the fire from her husband, with her moccasins on and her baby in her arms, ready to run. During the night she heard the animal coming, and poked her husband with a stick to awaken him; but he slept on. She then ran away, and the animal came into camp and ate her husband. Afterwards the animal followed the woman’s tracks, making sounds like a person crying.

The woman reached a place on the lake where many people were camped, and warned them. The people made many holes close together in the ice of the lake, so that the animal, in approaching, would break through and drown. When it came to this place, the ice broke with its weight; but the animal walked along the bottom of the lake, broke the ice ahead of him, and came out to where the people were. The woman with the baby ran away. The other people were so scared that they could not run. They fell down quite helpless, and some of them were as if asleep.

In the camp was a boy who was ill treated by everybody. Even the old women stepped over him, and treated him as if he were a dog. He looked as though he had no hair, because he wore a moose-bladder over his head. Only his grandmother knew that he was like a shaman. He had magic trousers and magic arrows. Now, his grandmother nudged him, and said, “See what is coming!” He said to her, “Get my trousers and arrows.” He donned his trousers and seized his bow and arrows. He jumped, and shook his head. The bladder burst, and his hair fell down over him. He shot an arrow right through the animal. Then he jumped to the other side and shot an arrow back through it again. Thus he shot until he killed the animal. The people were very thankful, and gave him two girls to be his wives, but he accepted only one of them. They made him their chief. This is why since then people have had chiefs. The woman who ran away came back again.

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Big-Man (Dene Tco)

Big-Man was a colossal, hairless figure whose head touched the sky when he stood. Long ago, the sky was so close to the earth that Big-Man had to crawl, leading to constant cold weather. Frustrated, he pushed the sky upward until he could stand fully, resulting in a higher sky and milder climate. Some believe he ascended to the sky-world, and that rain is his tears.

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


Creation: The tale explains how the current state of the world, particularly the distance between the sky and earth and the resulting climate, came to be.

Cultural Heroes: Big-Man is a foundational figure who shapes the environment for the benefit of humanity, embodying the traits of a cultural hero.

Supernatural Beings: Big-Man himself is a supernatural entity of immense size and strength, interacting with the world in extraordinary ways.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Kaska people

Big-Man was in the world very long ago. He was of huge stature, and had no hair on his head. When he stood erect, his head touched the sky. Once a long time ago the sky was very close to the earth, and therefore it was always cold weather. At this time there was no room for Big-Man. When he travelled, he had to crawl, for the sky was very low. After a time he became angry at this inconvenience, and began to push the sky up. He kept on pushing it up, until at last he was able to stand at full height. The sky was now high, and far from the earth, and this made the weather on earth much milder. Since then it has been as it is now. Big-Man was a good man, and never harmed Indians. Some think he went to the sky-world, or somewhere up above, and that the rain is his tears.

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A description of primitive life

The narrative discusses the challenging existence of the Beaver Indians before contact with white settlers. They relied on snares, bows, and arrows for hunting, and crafted tools from natural materials like moose horn and beaver teeth due to the absence of iron. Fire was made by striking stones together, and shelters were constructed manually. Food scarcity often led to near-starvation conditions, highlighting their resilience in a harsh environment.

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


Conflict with Nature: The Dane-zaa people’s struggle against natural forces to secure food and resources.

Cultural Heroes: The reference to “the one who made this world” suggests foundational figures or deities influencing their way of life.

Sacred Objects: The use of specific tools and methods, such as beaver teeth and moose horn chisels, which may hold cultural significance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Dane-zaa people

Formerly, before white people were known, they were living in a miserable way. They were making their living with snares and bows and arrows. They used a piece of horn to chisel for beaver, and it was a very miserable way. There was no iron at that time, and the beaver chisels were made of moose horn. That they might see the beaver under the ice, they made shovels of wood to remove the snow. When they had no iron, they used beaver teeth [The teeth were left attached to the jawbone. Petitot has a story of a giant who had the teeth of a giant beaver for a knife.] The one who made this world told us it would be that way. They made fire by rubbing two stones together with dry grass rubbed fine for tinder. They made their houses and firewood with their hands.

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They made knives by rubbing stones sharp, with which they cut the meat they ate.

They say that living that way the people were near starvation. They were close to dead people, living that way. When they had no meat in their bellies, they used to put pine brush under their belts. There was nothing inside of them, and the brush enabled them to breathe without bending.

When, at first, they were living with snares, they used to put trees in a row, leaving a passageway between. When the moose passed along there, they were caught in the snares. When they had no combs they made combs of pine-brush.

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The shiftless husband

A man and his wife face starvation during winter. The husband fails to catch fish or rabbits due to his laziness, while his wife successfully provides for them by fishing and setting snares. The story explains the origin of shiftless men, suggesting that such individuals exist because of this man’s behavior.

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


Moral Lessons: The story imparts a lesson on the consequences of laziness and the virtues of hard work and responsibility.

Conflict with Nature: The narrative involves attempts to procure food from natural sources like fishing and hunting, underscoring the challenges of survival in a harsh environment.

Cultural Heroes: The wife emerges as a cultural hero by exemplifying the values of diligence and competence, ensuring the family’s survival.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Dane-zaa people

A man who was camping by himself ran out of food and went with his wife to a lake to get some fish. He went out on the lake and sat by his hook, but came home at night without any fish. His wife wondered what was the matter, for fish had always been taken in that lake. She told her husband that she herself would go fishing the next day. Her husband assented to this. The woman got some fish very quickly. She found her husband had not even cut a hole entirely through the ice, and that was why he had not taken any fish. The woman got a good many. The man himself had gone to set snares for rabbits but came home without any. The wife wondered why he hadn’t caught any, for rabbits were plentiful.

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“I will go to look after your snares tomorrow,” she told him. “All right,” he said, “you look after my snares.” She found he had merely cleared away the snow on the top of the mountain and sat there all day. He had set two of the snares and thrown the remainder down in the snow. She gathered them up and set them. She caught many rabbits which she took home with her. The man had spent the day fishing but had not caught any fish, for he had not gotten the hook into the water.

Now the woman suspected what sort he was. If it had not been for his wife he would have starved. They lived through the winter because of the woman’s effort. He was not a manlike fellow and had concluded he could not live anyway.

When the point of the story was asked for, the informant said this man was the first of such men. Because he was a shiftless man we still have them.

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A man marries the daughter of a bird

A solitary man encounters a small man with two daughters and marries one. The father-in-law invites him to hunt “moose,” which are actually birds called tsebise. Confused, the man kills two owls in anger. Later, he hunts real moose, but the father-in-law, frightened by their size, flees, revealing that the “moose” he referred to were indeed birds.

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


Conflict with Nature: The protagonist’s hunting experiences and the differing perceptions of animals highlight a struggle or misunderstanding between humans and the natural world.

Family Dynamics: The relationship between the man and his father-in-law, including their misunderstandings and interactions, showcases complex familial relationships.

Cultural Heroes: The protagonist’s actions and experiences may reflect foundational narratives within the Beaver Indian culture, portraying him as a cultural hero.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Dane-zaa people

There was a man who was traveling around alone. At first he did not come where there were any people, but after a time he came where there was a small man living by himself who had two daughters. He was given one of these for a wife and lived there with them.

“There are some moose that live over here,” the small man said to his son-in-law one day, “let us go over there.” They went over there. He was living on birds only. “You stand here and watch that big tree and I will drive the game to you,” the father-in-law said. The Beaver was watching there supposing it was moose that was meant.

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Not long after, some birds flew by, but he paid no attention to them. After that his father-in-law ran up and asked where they were. “I did not see any moose, only some birds flew by,” the man replied. Those birds are called tsebise and stay here all winter. “You say only birds passed. Those are the ones. They are moose,” the father-in-law said.

Then the young man was angry and went back into the woods. Two owls had lighted there, and he went to them and killed them both. He was angry. He brought them to the old man and threw them at him. The head of one of the owls fell in the fork of a stick. The old man tried in vain to lift it out and when he could not, he cut it up where it lay. He told the son-in-law to go home and tell his mother-in-law to come after the meat quickly. When he came home he told them, “Go after the meat quickly, he tells you.” They went there and brought the meat back. They made a soup of the owl’s head. The old man said to his son, “Go and tell your brother-in-law to come here and eat the head soup.” When he told his brother-in-law that, he replied that he hated the water of owls’ eyes. “I will not go there,” he said. The old man was angry about it.

The next morning the large man went hunting and killed two real moose. They went out for the meat and the old man went out behind them. The moose had not yet been cut up, and when he saw the moose he was afraid and ran away. “It is the large animal that eats people he means,” the old man said and then he ran away from it. Those are the birds one sees around here which stay all winter. They say those birds were men at first.

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

Tumaxale, a culture hero

Tumaxale encountered a girl destined as a sacrifice to a giant beaver. He killed the beaver with an arrow, dismembered it, and scattered the pieces, creating beavers of normal size. After reuniting the girl with her people, he continued his journey, confronting and defeating various malevolent beings. This tale highlights themes of bravery and the origins of beavers.

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


Cultural Heroes: Tumaxale exemplifies a foundational figure who shapes society by overcoming challenges and protecting his people.

Origin of Things: After defeating the beaver, Tumaxale dismembers it, and the scattered pieces transform into regular-sized beavers, explaining their presence in the world.

Quest: Tumaxale embarks on a journey, facing various challenges, including battling adversaries and navigating perpetual darkness, to achieve his goals.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Dane-zaa people

There were once two brothers who were traveling together. When they came to a large lake they decided to separate, one going along the shore in one direction and one in the other.

One of them, Tumaxale, had not gone far before he came to a trail which had been used by people. He followed this trail between two mountains until it came out again on the large lake. He passed along where sky and water were seen on either side, and walked across on an old beaver dam. He saw a pretty girl sitting nearby, whom he addressed as sister, asking her why she was there. The girl, as soon as she saw someone approach, began to cry. “Why do you cry, sister?” the young man asked.

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“A large beaver lives here that can only be pacified by giving him a human being. I have been given to him,” she replied. “He said he would come to get me this evening when the sun is half way down that big mountain.” Saying that he would watch for the beaver, he left the girl on the top of the mountain where he told her to wait for him. The girl told him that the beaver came out just at the edge of the water where the beaver dam made a bend. The young man sat there watching for the beaver and keeping track of the sun, and said to himself, “My sister said he will come out when the sun reaches that point.”

The water began to move. Although the lake was a large one it was all set in motion. The beaver himself looking like a mountain came out at the turn of the dam. When the young man saw the beaver he said to himself that he was too big; but he also remembered how bad he was, and shot him, the arrow striking just behind the ear. He then ran away, Oh how he ran. He came up where the girl was sitting and the rising water came right up toward them. The water receded, and they followed it back until they came to the beaver dam. Because the beaver was so large he cut it up in little pieces and threw them all over the country. “You will be only so large,” he said. The pieces were as large as a man’s little finger and there became as many beaver as there were pieces which were scattered over the world.

They two started after the people who were living on ahead. “I will sit here and wait for you, sister,” he said. “Go to your relatives.” As soon as they saw her coming they all started to cry, thinking they would not live. “My brother killed it,” she told them. “Where is your brother?” they asked. “He is sitting right there,” she said. “And what is your brother’s name?” they asked her. “His name is Tumaxale (he goes along the shore),” she told them. They were all glad he had done that, and did not want to let him go away. Each one of them asked him to be a son-in-law. He stayed there a short time, but concluded he would not remain in one place. He told them he was going out. They warned him there were bad people there. He went up to them and clubbed them all to death, leaving not one of them alive.

He walked along the road until he came to a large place where he slept. There was a narrow place between two hills where it was the custom to set snares. He set a snare there and went to bed. It was very dark and daylight did not return. He kept climbing up the hill to look for the dawn, but there was not a sign of it. The darkness had lasted so long his wood was all gone. Although it was still night he went back where he had set the snare. He found it was the sun that had been caught, but it was so hot he could not go near it. “Let all the animals come here quickly,” he said to himself. They all came running there, but could do nothing. The very last, a mouse, came running back all burned. He had gnawed the rope off. The young man ran back along his own road to the place where the sun had been caught and took his snare again.

He went on the way he had been going. Winter came on him again. As he was walking along, he came to a place where someone had drawn a sleigh along. Tumaxale had slept there and hung up a lynx. Some one had eaten some of the lynx in his absence. He started to follow him. He saw he had gone along there that day. He was again carrying a big lynx. When they saw him coming they prepared a tipi for him. He asked them to roast the lynx he was carrying. “My grandchild, did you ever eat this?” someone asked. “I only make use of its fat,” he replied. She gave it to him. “I live on this kind only,” he said. He drank only the soup of it.

Then they lay down for the night. That one was not a proper man. He looked carefully at the man’s feet as he lay there. His moccasins were hanging up at his feet. He put the other man’s moccasins in the place of his own. Then the man with whom he was staying thought he would take down his guest’s moccasins, but he really took down all his own, put them in the fire and lay down again. In the morning he got up before the other man and quickly took down his own moccasins. “Here, grandchild, those are my moccasins,” the guest called to him. He passed them to him and began to cry. He sat there without any moccasins. Tumaxale only had two pair of moccasins but they did not wear out. He went entirely around the edge of the sky without wearing them out. He gave him one of the two pair of his own moccasins. He was pleased, and gave him one of his own arrows. He too was pleased. “When you are about to lie down tonight we will shoot at the end of a stump,” he said.

Then he went on the way he had been going. He dropped the lynx which he had been carrying for food. Suddenly he came to a trail that had been used by people. There he shot at a stump. The arrows were pointing up. “Do not get it,” he was told. He thought it was quite close and stepped up toward it. The arrow went further and further up until he followed it clear to the sky. Then he went on after it until he came where some people were living. The people to whom he came lived on nothing but caribou. He thought it was on this world.

After he had remained there a short time he thought he would go to his own country. Then the old woman made a line of caribou skin for him. She made a large amount of the line and then she made a hole for him through the ground. She put him in a skin and gave him a knife. “When you think you are on the earth cut through the skin,” she told him. Finally, he thought he must be on the earth. He tried to swing himself but he did not move. He cut through the skin to find himself on a big bird’s nest. He said, “Grandmother your line,” as he had been told to do; and she drew the line up.

Then he started to go far away. He was on a large bird’s nest. Three young birds were sitting in it. He came up to them and began to ask questions. The two larger ones said they did not like this man who had been given them. For that reason he knocked them down with a club. One of them told him what he asked. “You are not going to live,” he warned the man. “When does your father come back?” he asked the bird. “There is hail and a big wind when he comes back,” the young bird said. “And your mother, when does she get back?” he asked again. “She comes when there is rain and a big wind,” was the reply.

The man made ready for them. There was hail and the father returned. “I smell an animal here,” he said. “Well, what have you been leaving here?” the young one replied. “I certainly smell something alive,” he said and went around the edge of his nest looking for it. He knocked him down with a club.

Again, the mother was coming back. Again, “I smell something alive,” she said. Again, she started around the edge of the nest. Again, he knocked her down. He took the small one and it went about with him. “You will be just this small,” he told it. He traveled around with it until it was just large enough to fly. They came to a river and the man put the bird on the bank. “Do you see a fish swimming about at the bottom of the river?” he asked the bird. “Yes,” he replied. “Well, jump on it,” he told the bird. He jumped on the fish, caught it, and took it out of the water. “Why don’t you eat it?” he asked the bird. “Is it good?” he asked again. “Yes,” was the reply. “As long as the world exists you shall eat them. You shall live on them,” the man said.

Again he started on the way he was going. Suddenly, he came where there was a road used by people. He traveled along on this road, camping on it until he came where an old woman was living. When he came to her she said, “Grandchild, how have you been traveling? Grandchild, these people are bad. You will not live. My three daughters have all kinds of bad things living in their bodies with which they kill people.” He killed all the things that lived in them. That is why the old man was very angry.

Then the young man said, “I will make arrows.” “Well, let him go for them,” the old man said. “Grandmother, what does he mean?” he asked. “Grandchild, he means a bad place. It is there he is in the habit of going,” she replied. “What kind of a place is it?” he asked. “At a place where saskatoons grow there are large snakes. It is there he goes. That is the place he means,” she said. Then he went there. He made himself stone leggings and went among the saskatoons with them. The snakes all rushed at him and caught him by the legs. He clubbed the snakes, took the arrow shafts, and went back.

“Get the polishing stone from your father for me,” he said. “Let him get the polishing stones where I usually get them,” the old man said. He went to his grandmother to ask about it. “Grandchild, it is a difficult place. There is an elk there who is a person. He walks back and forth on the top of a cutbank. He has something that chases people and barks after them like a dog. You can’t get up to him without his knowing it,” she told him. He got up to him and was ready for him. “I saw you first,” he said. “You go down the bank first.” The man refused, but nevertheless was forced to run down the bank and he kicked at him. “Why didn’t you run straight along the road?” he asked. They ran along again and he kicked at him but did not hit him. He threw him down and he fell down the bank. The elk’s wife down below killed him. She thought it was a stranger she was killing but it was her own husband. The woman came up to him from below, and began running about. He knocked her down and killed her with his club. He took the polishing stone and went home with it.

The young man put his arrows in the fire, “I will put feathers on them,” he said to himself. “Go to your father and get feathers for me,” he said. “Let him get feathers where I always get them,” the old man replied. Again he went to his grandmother, “Grandchild, he means a hard place. Big eagles live there,” she told him. That they might not get his scent he approached them from the windward. He killed all the birds with his club, took the feathers, and went home with them.

Again he said, “Get sinew for me from your father.” “Let him get it where I always get it,” said the old man. Again, he went to his grandmother, “Grandmother, where does he mean?” he asked. “Grandchild, it is a difficult place. There is a big buffalo living on a large prairie. One cannot get to him without his knowledge. Snipes which make a noise when he does not see a person sit on the ends of his horns. As soon as he came where the buffalo lay the birds saw him and flew up. He made them go down again. They flew up again without cause. “Why do you mislead me?” he asked. “We were deceived by the leaves,” they replied. He lay down again. The man transformed himself into a rodent and made himself a road to the buffalo. He made roads in many directions. Then he gnawed the hair off well below the animal’s shoulder and stabbed him there. He ran away along his own road. He killed him, took sinew for himself, and went home with it.

“Go to your father and get pitch for me,” he said. “Let him get pitch where I always get it,” the old man replied. Then he went to his grandmother. “Grandmother, what does he mean?” “Grandchild, there are trees which are like animals. These large trees are growing together and it is only in between them that pitch is to be had. That is what he means.” Then he made mittens of stone for himself and put them on. When he came there he threw in a stick. The trees struck against each other. He pulled his hand out leaving only his mitten. After that he took the pitch he wanted.

Now he had killed all the things the old man used to dream about. This caused him to be very angry.

Then he told his three daughters that they should go for berries and they went off for them. “My son-in-law, some grizzly bears used to live over there. Let us go after them,” the old man said. They two started to go there and went on until they came to a large prairie on a point of land. “This is where they used to be,” he said. They went down to the river. There were three bears standing together on the prairie. “You watch for them here,” the old man said. The young man lay in wait for them while the old man scared them down there. The three bears ran toward him and as they came up he put an arrow into each one as it passed. Then he called for his wife, and told her that the young man had killed all their children.

Tumaxale then chased him entirely around the world. As he was about to kill the old man, he jumped into the water. He called for a pelican and one lighted there and drank up all the water. They looked for him everywhere on the lake bottom and could not find him. He called for small diving birds. When they came he instructed them to go to the pelican. When they lighted by him he said, “You seem to like my belly. I myself was looking for the skull of the black water beetles.” They all stabbed the pelican right in his mouth and flew away. The mean old man was completely drowned.

After that he started on in the direction he had been going. Not far from there he met an old man whose head was gray. He was a pitiful looking man. “Who is he?” he said to himself. It was his younger brother. They were boys when they separated. When they saw each other, the other one also said to himself, “Who is that?” They began to tell each other what they had been doing, and then they realized they were brothers.

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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.

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