“The place where this falls will be called Tsurat-ton Mem Puisono. This feather will become woodpeckers, and their place will be there. Their red feathers will be beautiful, and every one will like their red scalps and will use them for headbands. The woodpeckers will be also called Topi chilchihl” (bead birds).
All people that were good on this earth only, of use only here, Olelbis sent down to be beasts, birds, and other creatures. The powerful and great people that were good in Olelpanti and useful there he kept with himself, and sent only a feather or a part of each to become something useful down here. The good people themselves, the great ones, stayed above, where they are with Olelbis now.
OLELBIS AND MEM LOIMIS
One character in this myth is of great importance in actual Indian belief, the Hlahi or doctor, the sorcerer. The position and power of the Hlahi are explained at length in the notes to this volume. Sanihas Yupchi, the archer of Daylight, is Tsaroki Sakahl, the messenger sent by Torihas to invite Katkatchila to hunt; he appears also as the friend and messenger of Waida Dikit, who assembled the world concert in which Hawt proved the greatest musician.
PERSONAGES
After each name is given that of the beast, bird, or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently.
Hubit, wasp; Hus, buzzard; Kahit, wind; Kaisus, gray squirrel; Kiriú, loon; Kopus, small-horned owl; Kuntihlé, small hawk fishes in muddy water; Kut, unknown; Lutchi, humming-bird; Mem Loimis, water; Móihas, bald eagle; Pákchuso, the pakchu stone; Patkilis, jack rabbit; Pori Kipánamas, another name for Kopus Sútunut, black eagle; Sánihas, daylight; Sotchet, beaver; Toko, sunfish; Tsaroki Sakahl, green snake; Tsárorok, fish-hawk; Tsudi, mouse; Tsurat, red-headed woodpecker; Winishuyat, foresight; Wokwuk, unknown.
ONE evening a woman came to Olelpanti. Her name was Mem Loimis.
“Why are you here?” inquired Olelbis; “and from what place have you come?”
“I have come from my home in the earth to ask if I may live with you. I have come from the north.”
“You may live here,” said Olelbis; and she stayed there. She lived with Olelbis, became his wife, and had two sons: the first was Wokwuk, the second Kut.
Kut was still small, when one day the woman went out a little to one side of the house to get something, and a man came to her and said, “Come with me—come right away!” And he took her, took her quickly, took her toward the north, to the place where Kahi Hlut is. This man was Kahit, and Kahi Hlut was his house.
Olelbis knew not where his wife had gone; he knew not which way she went; he had not seen her going out and had not seen her afterward. He inquired of every one who lived in Olelpanti. All they knew was that she had gone west a little way to get something.
For five years after the woman was carried away the people in Olelpanti had no water to drink. This woman had given them water, and now some one had taken her, and without her there was no water.
“I cannot tell what to do without water,” said Olelbis. “I don’t think my children can live without water. I don’t know what yapaitu likes my wife and has taken her.”
The people in and around Olelpanti talked a great deal about Mem Loimis.
“I don’t know how we are to live now,” said Toko Kiemila to Olelbis. “Some one has taken your wife away. I cannot live without water much longer.”
Another man who lay inside the sweat-house at the west end, an old man, stood up and said—
“I do not know what people are to do without water. I do not know how you, Olelbis, are to live without it. I cannot live unless I have water. I am very dry. Why do you not try to get water again? There is a man in Hlihli Pui Hlutton whose name is Kopus. You can see his house from here. He is a great Hlahi. He sings and dances every night. Let him come here to sing and dance. Perhaps he will be able to bring water back to us.”
The old man who said this was Hubit. He was suffering from thirst so much that he had tied a belt of sinews around his waist and tightened it till he was nearly cut in two.
Olelbis went to the top of the sweat-house and spoke to all the people.
“We must send for this Hlahi,” said he. “Let him come here to sing and bring water back to us. Some of you young men who walk fast must go for him to-morrow.”
That night they talked about the person who should go. One said to a second, “You walk fast; you ought to go.”
“I do not,” said the second; “but you walk fast. You are the person to go.”
And so they spoke one after another, till at last Lutchi said, “I cannot walk fast, but I will go.”
Early next morning he went out to the top of the sweat-house and said, “I am going!” and he shot away to the southeast.
He found the old Hlahi. He had not finished his night’s work yet. This Hlahi was Kopus Kiemila.
“Old man, you must stop awhile,” said Lutchi. “Olelbis lost his wife, Mem Loimis, years ago. He has two children, and he and all the people are very dry; they are thirsting, they are dying for want of water. He wants you to come and see if you can tell us what to do to bring water back to Olelpanti. Olelbis will give you five sacks of acorns for your pay. You must sing five nights for these five sacks. They are old acorns.”
“I will do that,” said Kopus. “I will go with you.”
Lutchi returned to Olelpanti with Kopus, who was called also Pori Kipanamas, which means a man wearing a headband of fresh oak leaves with two green acorns thrust in on each side. His face was painted with acorn mould. A great many people were waiting there, all very dry, very thirsty—all hoping for water.
“I sent for you to come,” said Olelbis, “and you must hlaha[2] five nights. All my people, all my children, are dry. I am dry myself. I lost my wife five years ago. I don’t know where she went, and we have no water since she left us. I want you to sing and to dance. I want you to find out where my wife is.”
[2] Hlaha means, “to perform as a Hlahi, or doctor.”
When night came, Olelbis gave a pipe filled with tobacco to Kopus and said, “Now you must hlaha.”
Kopus smoked, became tunindili—that is, possessed. A Tsudi yapaitu came to him and began to chant. The yapaitu, speaking through Kopus, said—
“I have looked all around the world, I have looked everywhere; every smell has come to my nose, every sight to my eyes, every sound to my ears, but to-night nothing comes to me. I cannot
