Part 11 (1/2)

And all the time they were dancing they were moving across country, and getting nearer the cave where she lived, and other people at the same time were ahead of them carrying lots of wood to her cave. And when they arrived at her cave in the mountain of Tahtk.u.m they laid her sleeping body down inside, and placed the wood in the cave between her and the door, filling it all to the entrance, which they closed with four hurdles, such as the people fasten their doors with, so that she could not run out.

And then they set the wood on fire, and it burned fiercely, and when the fire reached Hawawk she waked and cried out. ”My grandchildren, what have I done that you should treat me this way!”

And the fire hurt her so that she jumped up and down with pain, and her head struck the ceiling of the cave and split the rock. And when the people saw it they called to Ee-ee-toy, and he went and put his foot over the crack, and sealed it up, and you may see the track of his foot there to this day.

But Ee-ee-toy was not quick enough, and her soul escaped through the crack.

And then for a while the people had peace, but in time her soul turned into a green hawk, and this hawk killed the people, but did not eat them.

And this made the people great trouble, but one day a woman was making pottery and she had just taken one pot out of the fire and left another one in the furnace, on its side, when this hawk saw her and came swooping down from high in the air to kill her, but missed her, and went into the hot pot in the fire, and so was burned up and destroyed.

And one day they boiled greens in that pot, the greens called choo-hook-yuh, and the greens boiled so hard that they boiled over, and splashed around and killed people. And they boiled all day and stopped at night, and at daybreak began again to boil, and this they did for a long time; boiling by day and stopping at night.

And the people sent for Toehahvs who lived in the east, and Gee-ah-duk Seeven, or Strong Bow Chief, who lived where is now the ruin of Aw-awt-k.u.m Vah-ahk-kee, to kill the pot for them.

And when they arrived Geeahduk Seeven enquired if the pot slept. And the people said: ”Yes, it sleeps all night.” Then said Geeahduk Seeven, ”We will get up very early, before the pot wakes, and then we will kill it.”

But Toehahvs said; ”That is not right, to go and kill it at night. I am not like a jealous woman who goes and fights her rival in the darkness. I am not a woman, I am a man!”

And Toehahvs said to Geeahduk Seeven: ”I will go in the morning to attack the pot and I want you to go on the other side, and if the pot throws its fluid at me, so that I cannot conquer it, then do you run up on the other side and smash it.”

Then Toehahvs took his s.h.i.+eld and his club, in the morning, and went to attack the pot. But the pot saw him, and, altho he held up his s.h.i.+eld, it boiled over, and threw the boiling choohookyuh so high and far that some of it fell on Toehahvs' back and scalded it. And Toehahvs had to give back a little. But at that moment Geeahduk Seeven ran in on the other side and smashed the pot.

And there was an old man with an orphan grandson, living near there, and when the pot was smashed these came to the spot and ate up the choohookyuh. And at once they were turned into bears, the old man into a black bear, the boy into a brown bear.

And these bears also killed people, and tho the people tried to kill them, for a long time they could not do so. When they shot arrows at the bears, the bears would catch them and break them up. And so the people had to study out other ways to get the better of them. There is a kind of palm-tree, called o-nook, which has b.a.l.l.s where the branches come out, and the people burned the trees to get these b.a.l.l.s, and threw them at the bears. And the bears caught the b.a.l.l.s, and fought and wrestled with them, and while their attention was taken by these b.a.l.l.s the people shot arrows at them and killed them.

And thus ended forever the evil power of Hawawk.

NOTES ON THE STORY OF HAWAWK

The Story of Hawawk opens with an interesting reference to the favorite Pima game of football. The ball was about two and one half inches in diameter, merely a heavy pebble coated thick with black greasewood gum. Sometimes it was decorated with little inlays of sh.e.l.l. It was thrown by the lifting of the naked or sandaled foot, rather than kicked. Astonis.h.i.+ng tales are told of the running power and endurance of the older Indians. White and red men agree in the testimony.

Emory says of the Maricopa interpreter, Thirsty Hawk, before alluded to, that he came running into their camp on foot and ”appeared to keep pace with the fleetest horse.” Whittemore, the missionary, says: ”Some young women could travel from forty to fifty miles in sixteen hours, and there were warriors who ran twenty miles, keeping a horse on a canter following them.” G. W. Mardis, the trader at Phoenix, told me he had known Indians to run all day, and my interpreter told me of Pimas running forty to seventy miles in a day, hunting horses on the mountains. Others ran races with horses and with a little handicap and for moderate distance often beat them. On these long runs after horses the men took their footb.a.l.l.s and kept them going, saying it made the journey amusing and less tiresome. And undoubtedly it was, in the practice of this sport, that their powers were developed. Beside the usual foot-races, in which all Indians delight, it often happened that two champions would, on a set day, start in different directions and chase their footb.a.l.l.s far out on the desert, perhaps ten miles and then return. The one who came in first was winner. The whole tribe, in two parties, on horseback as far as they could get mounts, followed the champions, as judges, a.s.sistants, critics and friends and there was profuse betting and picturesque excitement and display.

But the fine old athletic games seem to have all died out now.

Stories of miraculous conception are not uncommon in Indian tradition, and this story of the bewitching of the young girl into motherhood thru the agency of the football is an instance.

This gruesome and graphic tale is full of insight into Indian thought and fancy. In reading it we are reminded of many familiar old nursery tales of kidnapped child, pig or fowl (”the little red hin” of Irish legend for instance) and of Were-Wolf and Loup-Garou.

And here reappears the old myth of some G.o.d's or hero's footstep printed in solid rock.