The First Battle In The World And The Making Of The Yana

: Creation Myths Of Primitive America

PERSONAGES



After each name is given that of the creature or thing into which the

personage was changed subsequently.



=Ahalamila=, gray wolf; =Bohkuina=, silver-gray fox; =Chichepa=,

spotted hawk; =Chuhna=, spider; =Hehku=, horned serpent; =Hitchinna=,

wildcat; =Howichinaipa=, a small bird; =Hurskiyupa=, orphan; =Jewina=,

reddish chicken hawk; =Jihkulu=, large owl; =Jupka=, butterfly of wild< r />
silkworm; =Kaítsiki=, ground squirrel; =Kaltsauna=, swift (kind of

lizard); =Kechowala=, bluejay; =Lawalila=, large hawk; =Maibyu=, dove;

=Malewula=, wolf; =Mapchemaina=, first people; =Pakalai Jawichi=,

water lizard; =Petaina=, skunk; =Popila=, duck; =Topuna=, mountain

lion; =Tsanunewa=, a little bird; =Tuina=, the sun; =Wihlaina=,

chipmunk.



* * * * *



After Hehku had risen from the dead and gone home, Jupka said to all

the Mapchemaina: "Sweat now and swim. You will go to hunt to-morrow

early."



The Mapchemaina went to hunt on the following day, but could not kill

deer. They had no good arrow-points. The points which they had were

made of common stone. When they went back to Jigulmatu in the evening

without venison, Jupka said,--



"There is an old man in the south who kills a great many deer; his

name is Kaltsauna. I must bring him up here to show you how he kills

them. I will send some one south for him. Maibyu, you go for that old

man; you travel very quickly."



"I don't know where his house is; I cannot find him," said Maibyu.

"You would better send some one else."



"Lawalila, you go," said Jupka.



Lawalila dressed himself nicely; took his bow, quiver, and arrows, and

went. He went as quickly as though it were only one long step to

Kaltsauna's house. Kaltsauna was sitting inside the door with his legs

crossed. He was making flint arrow-points.



Lawalila stepped in at once and surprised old Kaltsauna. He had a

flint knife at his side, and made a thrust at Lawalila as if to kill

him.



"Stop. It is I, uncle; you must not kill me."



"Why do you call me uncle?" asked Kaltsauna, hiding his arrow-points

quickly.



"I have come for you, uncle. The chief sent me here. Jupka invites you

to come to Jigulmatu. He wants you to come to his house. He wants to

see you. We cannot kill deer with stone arrow-points. We have no other

kind. The chief knows that you kill deer all the time. He wants you to

come to his place and show his people how you kill deer."



Kaltsauna rubbed his hands, rubbed them clean, rubbed all the flint

dust from them, and rolled up his flints in a skin very carefully.

Next he mixed flint dust, rubbed it on his face, made paint, covered

his face with it, and thrust a piece of sharp flint through the septum

of his nose. He looked very threatening and strong when he was dressed

and armed for the road.



"I am ready; you go ahead; I will come later," said he to Lawalila.



Kaltsauna's quiver was a grizzly bearskin; his bows and arrows were

made of black oak. He put his flints under his left arm, took his bow

and arrows in his right hand.



"Go on; go ahead. I will come later; I will come by myself. Go now and

tell the chief to make a great fire of manzanita wood."



Lawalila went ahead, and gave Kaltsauna's message to Jupka. The chief

had the fire made,--a great fire of manzanita wood. "He is coming, he

is coming," said the people, when they saw Kaltsauna in the distance.

When he was near, they didn't try to look at him, they hung their

heads.



"Make way for me, make way! I'll strike unless you give me room!" said

Kaltsauna, as he came near the crowd of people.



"The old man always talks like that," said Jupka; "he is very strong.

That's why he is so bold; that's why he talks so."



"Spread out a skin," said Kaltsauna to Jupka.



The skin was spread, and Kaltsauna emptied his robe full of

arrow-points on it. He sat down then and said,--



"I will divide these and put them in different places."



He gathered each kind of flint into a heap by itself, then pushed it,

and said while he pushed, "You go to this place or to that place."



White flint he pushed and said, "Go you, to Hakamatu."



The white flint went away; disappeared from the robe; went to

Hakamatu, and there is plenty of white flint in that place to-day.



Blue flint he sent east to the edge of our Yana country. Yellow flint

he fixed at Iwiljami. To the west he sent flint with fine black, blue,

and white stripes; he sent it to Hakachimatu. Green flint he put in

Jigulmatu and said,--



"You will find these flints always in the places where I put them

to-day, and people who come after you will find them there. There will

be flint in those places forever, as long as people want it."



Besides flint Kaltsauna gave each of the Mapchemaina a wedge made of

deer-horn, and a piece of stone; showed them how to dress the flint

and make arrow-points. The first arrow-points on earth were those

which Kaltsauna made.



Next morning, after he had given the flint and shown the Mapchemaina

how to make arrow-points, Kaltsauna went home. On the second day Jupka

called all the Mapchemaina together and said,--



"Get your arrow-points ready; sweat to-night; swim early in the

morning, and go out on a great hunt to-morrow."



They did all that Jupka commanded, and went on the following morning

toward Jidjilpa. They went west along Jidjilpa, went on both sides of

it; went west toward Tahaujwakaina, which is in the cañon beyond

Hakamatu. They went to the rock and went beyond it.



Some distance west of the rock a grizzly bear ran out of a clump of

live-oak brush. Among the people hunting was Chichepa, and the bear

rushed at him. Chichepa had dreamed the night before that this rock in

the cañon had jumped up from the ground and frightened him. When he

came near the live-oak brush, the bear growled and sprang out.



Chichepa ran back, ran till he came to Tahaujwakaina, the bear close

after him. The bear was so angry that he tore up big oak-trees as he

ran. There was a hole in the top of the rock. Chichepa sprang into it.

The bear stood on his hind legs. He could barely look over the top of

the rock. He looked and saw nothing, dropped down, ran all around the

rock, looked everywhere, saw no sign of Chichepa. Then he turned back

and went into the thick clumps of brush from which he had started.



The people went west a while, then toward the south, and began to find

deer. Bohkuina killed the first deer, Howichinaipa the second,

Kechowala the third, Jihkulu the fourth, Petaina the fifth, and so on

till twenty had deer. The party divided then into two. Those who had

deer turned home toward Jigulmatu, and went in the order in which they

had killed them, Bohkuina first, the others following each in his

turn.



The second party hunted toward the east and then toward Jigulmatu.

After a while they came to Ketmatu, where Malewula killed a deer, and

Topuna killed one, and Tsanunewa killed a terribly ugly big deer which

seemed as though all its flesh and body were swollen. Hitchinna,

Kaitsiki, Wihlaina, and others killed deer; each person killed one

deer. The whole party turned toward Jigulmatu then, and there was

great gladness in Jupka's sweat-house. The women prepared acorns and

mice to eat.



Jupka himself never went hunting; he stayed at Jigulmatu always, just

lay in the house there, told all what they were to do, and showed them

how to do what was needed. When they came in from hunting, all put

their venison in front of the chief, put down before him all the deer

they had killed. Jupka took his flint knife then, and cut the meat

into pieces. He roasted ribs of it, roasted all they brought in. When

it was cooked, the Mapchemaina sat down and ate the meat together.

Jupka placed out before them three very large baskets of mice in three

different places, and in front of each basket were people to deal the

mice out to each person who wished some. When they had eaten, Jupka

stood up and talked to all present.



"I wish you all to come into the sweat-house to-night," said he; "I

wish to tell you where you are to hunt to-morrow."



They went into the sweat-house that evening, sat down and smoked, and

while they were smoking Jupka rose up and spoke to them. Jupka himself

never ate anything of any kind; he smoked tobacco, smoked all the

time; that was the only thing that he ever took into his body. When he

spoke, he said,--



"I think it is better to hunt in the north to-morrow."



"We do not like to go north when we hunt," said some of the people.



"Well, let another tell where to go. To-night I will have

Howichinaipa sing and dance for deer."



Then Jupka thought a while and said: "No, I will get Ahalamila; he is

a good person to dream and sing about deer and to dance. I will tell

Ahalamila to sing and dance to-night. He will tell where you ought to

go, he will say which road to take. I want you all to lie down and

sleep to-night, old men and young, and all the women; let all sleep

till morning, sleep till I call you to the hunt."



When the time came that evening, Ahalamila made a fire and took his

pipe. He blew smoke around in every direction. He put down his pipe

then and took fir-leaves; these he threw on the fire, and while they

were burning he sang,--



"Wílichuláina kúlmachi, Wílichuláina kúlmachi

(A quartz rock, a white rock, a quartz rock, a white rock)."



and he put a beautiful white quartz rock on the ground; at each side

of it he thrust into the earth a small twig of fir and one of blue

beech; he put these on the east, west, north, and south sides of the

quartz.



Ahalamila kept looking at the twigs, which rose quickly, grew up, and

became little trees. He walked around them and sang; sang and pinched

off a leaf or a bud from one limb or another as he walked. Soon the

stone began to move of itself, and it swelled and changed shape, till

at last it turned into a white fawn. Just at daybreak the fawn began

to walk around among the trees and sniff as though it smelt something.



Ahalamila picked up the little fawn; blew smoke from his mouth; blew

it around on all sides; then he put the fawn down again and it turned

back into quartz.



It was daylight then, and Ahalamila stopped singing. "I have finished

now," said he. "It will be better for us to hunt on the south side."



"I want you, my people," called Jupka, "to rise up, start out and

hunt. Howichinaipa will go ahead and make a fire."



Howichinaipa went ahead: went south for some distance; the Mapchemaina

followed soon after; went to the place where Howichinaipa had made the

fire. When they came up, there was a good large fire at a place called

Wewauna, half a mile from Hakamatu.



"Come to the fire, wait a while before we start, talk and get ready to

hunt," said Howichinaipa.



Ten men went on farther south to find deer, while the others waited at

the fire. Those ten men went south quickly; then five turned east, and

five turned west to meet again at Wewauna. They came back about the

same time, but not one of them saw deer or game of any kind. Every one

wondered that there was no game in any place. Ahalamila and

Howichinaipa began to dispute and then to quarrel because the ten men

could find no deer.



Howichinaipa was angry; he was offended because Jupka had named him

first, then changed his mind and called Ahalamila to sing for deer. He

was angry, too, and jealous because he wanted one of Ahalamila's wives

who was his own wife's sister. Howichinaipa's wife was a Chuhna, and

Ahalamila's wife was her only sister. Howichinaipa wanted to have the

two sisters as his wives; he wanted both of them. For these two

reasons the Mapchemaina could find no deer that day. Howichinaipa had

power over the deer, and had sent them all under ground. The ten men

had looked in a great many places; they had run south, east, west, and

could find no deer. Then the whole party turned to the southeast; they

went to Chupirkoto. Some said, "What is the use in going farther? We

can find no deer to-day. Ahalamila told us that we should find deer.

Where are they? We cannot see them."



"I do not know," said Ahalamila, "why we find no deer. I sang and

danced last night. I dreamed that I saw deer, that I saw them south of

Jigulmatu."



"You will not see deer or any other game to-day," said Howichinaipa;

"you cannot find deer, no matter how much you sing and dance. You are

not able to find deer, but you have a nice wife. She is very pretty."



"The deer were coming," said Ahalamila, "but you stopped them, you

drove them away;" and he sprang at Howichinaipa to strike him.

Howichinaipa dodged and went down through the ground.



All the people took sides and began to fight; some were for Ahalamila,

others were on Howichinaipa's side. Howichinaipa sprang out from under

the ground, stood before Ahalamila; shot at him. Ahalamila dodged and

shot too; Howichinaipa dodged very quickly.



They fought on in this way, fought hard, moved toward Jigulmatu,

fighting all the time. At last Ahalamila was struck and fell dead;

Topuna was killed too, and Hitchinna. A great many tried to kill

Howichinaipa; but he dodged all the time, dodged so well, so quickly

that not one of all his enemies could hit him. Jihkulu helped

Howichinaipa; never stopped fighting for a moment.



They fought all the way to Hwitalmauna just south of Jigulmatu; the

battle there was very hard, and people fell on both sides. There are

many rocks at Hwitalmauna now, and these rocks are the Mapchemaina

killed in that first battle.



Ahalamila's friends fought hard against Jihkulu and spent many arrows,

but could not hit him, for he had a robe of rabbit skin around his

body.



"We must hit that Jihkulu, we must kill him," said Ahalamila's

friends.



"You need not talk like that," said Jihkulu; "you cannot kill me. I am

the best fighter in all this world. I have been in every part of it;

no one has ever hit me, no one has ever hurt me."



Jihkulu shot at Jewina, but missed. "You can't hit me!" cried Jewina.

Jihkulu shot off Jewina's coyote skin, and then he killed him. Jewina

had dreamed a long time before that if he wore coyote skin in battle

he would not be killed, and that was why he wore it; but when Jihkulu

shot off the skin, he killed him easily.



Now Jupka was lying in the sweat-house on Jigulmatu, and he heard the

noise and shouting at Hwitalmauna. "They are fighting; I must stop the

battle!" cried he. So he ran south--rushed into the middle of the

fight.



"I want both sides to stop!" shouted Jupka.



The battle was at an end right there; all followed Jupka to Jigulmatu.

That evening he said, "You will hunt in the north to-morrow." All were

in the sweat-house then and were listening. Jupka spoke to them some

time, and then they all talked at once; it seemed as though the house

would burst when they were talking.



Next day they found deer in the north, and found them in plenty. Each

had one to bring back to the sweat-house. When they were coming home

through thick brushwood, Popila wished to please Ahalamila's friends,

and made himself a bear to kill Howichinaipa, who fought the day

before with Ahalamila and killed him.



The bear came out and threw his arms around a clump of brush in which

Howichinaipa was. Howichinaipa slipped out in time and ran. The bear

rushed after him, hunted him, and almost caught him at a rock near

Hakamatu. Howichinaipa sprang on to the rock and said,--



"I am nearly dead; I wish this rock to open; I am too tired to run; I

can go no farther."



The rock opened, and Howichinaipa dropped in. The bear rushed up,

stuck his head and fore paws after Howichinaipa; but the rock closed,

and the bear was caught and killed.



Howichinaipa came out and stood beside the bear. "I am tired," said

he. "I was almost dead. You tried your best to kill me, but I am hard

to kill." Then he took his flint knife, cut around the bear's neck and

behind his two fore paws, and skinned him, put the skin on his

shoulder, and started for Jigulmatu. He came behind the others,

reached home at dusk. He hung the skin near the door, and said,--



"We shall hear what Ahalamila's friends will say to-morrow morning."



Popila's mother heard what her son had done, and when she saw the

bearskin she cried and rolled upon the ground. Next day the old woman

was sweeping; she swept out a little red-eared boy, a Pakalai Jawichi,

and as she swept, he squealed. Popila Marimi took him up, took a

deerskin, and made a blanket of it, and put the little fellow in this

deerskin. She boiled water then with hot rocks and washed him, and

every time she washed she sprinkled flint dust on the little boy to

make him strong. He could creep around next morning; but she said:



"Stay in one place; you must not move. There may be poison in some

place; if you touch it, it will kill you. Stay right where I put you."



The second day the boy could talk. "You cry all the time, grandmother;

why do you cry?" asked he.



"Do not ask that question, grandson; it makes me grieve to hear you.

All my people were dead except my son; now he is killed and I have no

one."



The fifth day the boy was walking around the house outside.



"Grandmother," said he, "make a great fire."



She made a fire in the sweat-house. The boy stood near the central

pillar and sang, "Hála watá, hála watá."



He fell asleep while sweating; slept till morning. Next day when he

woke he said to his grandmother, "What am I to do with my hands?"



The old woman gave him a flint knife and said, "I have had this a long

time; take it now and fix your hands with it."



His fingers were joined together as far as the first joint, and she

showed him how to separate them from each other. He cut the little

finger first, then the third, the second, and the first. The thumb he

called big finger; and when the five fingers were separated and free

of each other, she told him to call the thumb the big finger, and call

it one, the next two, the next three, the next four, and the little

finger five.



This was the first time that counting was ever done in the world. And

when Jupka made the Yana, he gave them hands like Pakalai Jawichi's.



When his left hand was finished, Pakalai Jawichi said, "I don't know

how to cut with my left hand."



The old woman helped him to free the fingers of the right hand. When

all his fingers were free, the boy was able to shoot, and he wanted a

bow and arrows.



The old woman brought all the bows of her dead kindred; he broke all

but one, which had a string made from the shoulder sinews of a deer.

He took that and went out. This day Howichinaipa hid himself in a

cedar-tree: he was watching a bird. Pakalai Jawichi knew that he was

there, and called with the voice of the bird that Howichinaipa was

watching. Howichinaipa came down on the tree lower and lower, looking

to see where the call came from.



Pakalai Jawichi was hidden in a tree opposite, where Howichinaipa

could not see him; he kept calling, and Howichinaipa kept coming down.

Pakalai Jawichi had a good sight of him.



"If I hit him in the body," thought he, "the arrow will not hurt him;

I must hit him in the outside toe."



He did that, and Howichinaipa fell to the ground wounded. Pakalai

Jawichi pinned him to the earth with one arrow, then with another;

pinned his two sides to the ground with two rows of arrows. Pakalai

Jawichi ran home.



"Oh, grandmother!" cried he.



"What is the matter?" asked the old woman; "you came near falling into

the fire."



"There is some one out here; I want you to see him."



The old woman took her cane and followed Pakalai Jawichi.



"Do you see that person lying there?"



The old woman looked, and saw the person who had killed her son, saw

him pinned to the earth. She was so glad that she cried, she dropped

down then, and rolled on the ground; after that she jumped up and

danced around his body, danced many times, danced till she was tired.



"Hereafter," said Pakalai Jawichi, "everybody will call you

Howichinaipa. You will be a person no longer; you will be only a

little bird, with these arrow-marks on both sides of your breast."



He became a little bird then and flew away, the little bird which we

call Howichinaipa.



Next morning after the second hunt Jupka heard loud shouting in the

east; a great Mapchemaina had thrust his head above the edge of the

sky. This person had beautiful feathers waving on his head. Jupka had

made him shout, and he said to him,--



"Every time you rise up and show yourself to the people of Jigulmatu

you must shout in that way."



This great person in the east had two dogs; they were small, but very

strong. "Which of you is coming with me?" asked he that morning. "I

want a good dog; I am always afraid when I travel in the daytime."



"I will give you a name now," said Jupka to this person in the east.

"All people will call you hereafter by the name which I give now. The

name which I give you is Tuina. You will be known always by this name.

And your name," said he to the dog, "will be Machperkami."



When Tuina was ready to start, he made his small dog still smaller,

very small; put him under the hair on the top of his head, and tied

him in there.



When all dressed and ready, with the dog fastened in his hair, Tuina

became as full of light as he is in our time. Before he was dressed

and armed and had his dog on his head Tuina had no brightness, but

when he started he filled this whole world with light, as he does now

in the daytime.



Bohkuina had made a road for Tuina to travel on; he had made this

road in the sky, and Tuina went straight along to the west by it, till

he reached the great water. When he was ready to plunge into the

water, a hatenna (grizzly bear) of the water was coming out and saw

him. Tuina put his hands out and motioned with his arms as if they

were wings, motioned as if to jump in.



"Tuina is coming!" said the grizzly bear of the water. "It will be too

hot here if he comes. Let us make ready and go to high mountains. We

cannot stay here if Tuina comes."



A great crowd of water grizzlies came out of the ocean and went away

to the mountains. Tuina jumped into the water, and it rose on all

sides, boiled up, rolled away over the shore, every kind of shell of

the ocean went to land at the same time.



Tuina went far into the water, way down to the bottom; he went through

the bottom, deep under the water and the ground, and returned to the

east.



Long before that Jupka had made a road under the earth for Tuina to

travel on, a road back to the east. Jupka turned the earth bottom

upward, and made this road right through from west to east; and before

Tuina started Jupka said to him,--



"I have made a road, a straight road under the earth for you, a good

road; there are no rocks on it, all is smooth. Bohkuina made the road

on the sky, the road from east to west for you to run on; I made the

road down below, the road under the earth from west to east. When you

reach the east, you will rest a while, rise in the morning, come up

and go west again on the road which Bohkuina made; you will do this

every day without failing; you will do this all the time."



When Jupka stopped talking, Tuina went west, went back in the night on

Jupka's road; and so he does always.



The day after Jupka had talked with Tuina, given him his name and his

work, he said, "I will make Yana now, and I will give them a good

country to live in."



He took buckeye-sticks, broke off a large number; he wished to lay

them down on the top of Jigulmatu and make Yana. He put down the first

stick and said, "I will call this one Iwilau Yana" (Yana of the middle

place).



When he had said these words, a man rose up before him, a Yana.



"You will stay here in this middle country," said Jupka. "You will be

chief."



Jupka put down another buckeye-stick, and it became a Yana woman at

Jupka's word. He put down a third stick, which became a boy.



"This is an orphan without father or mother," said Jupka; and he

called the boy Hurskiyupa.



Jupka put other buckeye-sticks, a large number of them, around the

first Yana, the chief, and made common people. They all stood around

the chief and Jupka said to them,--



"This is your chief; he will tell you what to do; you must obey him

and do what he commands."



"Now," said Jupka, "what will the people of the middle country eat?

what shall I give them?" and he thought a while. "You will eat

clover," said he, "and roots. I will give you sticks to dig these

roots. You will eat fish, too, and venison. Eat and be strong, be good

Yana people. When the chief wants a deer, he will call you together

and say, 'I wish to eat venison; I want you to go out, I want you to

hunt deer and bring home venison to eat.' You must obey the chief

always."