Seneca Fiction, Legends, and Myths Thirty-Second Annual...

Then you must go out with manikins a second time; and when you have set these up you must return to me; and you must go out a third time with manikins. When putting up these you must instruct them to shoot the dogs; after doing this, you must return to me. From here you must go to the end of the island, where you must step into the water and walk along in it until you come to an overhanging cliff, which is opposite the landing place. There they can not find you.”

At evening came the Ongwe Ias83 in a canoe; he landed on the island. He was accompanied by three dogs, which he urged at once to find the game, Hodadeñon, who now heard the hue and cry of the pursuit. Starting from the bones, they went to the tree where the pouch was hidden and thence returned. Then they went on farther until they came to the tree on which was placed the first manikin. [220]The Ongwe Ias followed his dogs closely, singing as he ran, “There are no dogs like mine; there are no dogs like mine.” Suddenly the dogs stopped, and the Ongwe Ias saw a boy in the tree pointing an arrow at one of them. At once shooting an arrow at the supposed boy, he brought him down. As the dogs sprang forward to seize the falling manikin, the Ongwe Ias shouted at them, “Do not eat the body! Do not eat the body!” But when he was able to see what he had killed, he found that the dogs were tearing nothing but red willow twigs. Then he was very angry and, calling off his dogs, he urged them to follow the tracks elsewhere.

It was not long before the dogs found another tree on which there was a manikin with drawn bow and arrow. When Ongwe Ias saw it, he exclaimed, “Oh! he will kill one of my dogs;” thereupon he shot an arrow, which brought down the manikin. The dogs, rushing at the falling body, seized it, but the Ongwe Ias shouted at them, “Do not eat the flesh! Do not eat the flesh!” as he hurried forward to take it from the dogs. When he saw that they were throwing only bits of red willow from their mouths he was indeed very angry; but he set the dogs on the trail again.

They ran on with Ongwe Ias following them closely. After a while he heard them growling fiercely and found that they had stopped at a pile of bones. Seizing his club, Ongwe Ias pounded the bones, saying, “I have eaten your flesh long ago and still you try to deceive me.” Then, calling his dogs, he set them on the trail made by Hodadeñon when he went to put up the second lot of manikins. The dogs ran around with Ongwe Ias closely following them and singing, “There are no dogs like mine; there are no dogs like mine.” It was not long before they came to a manikin in the crotch of a tree. Seeing the drawn bow and arrow Ongwe Ias said, “Oh, he will kill one of my dogs.” At that instant the manikin shot an arrow and one of the dogs dropped dead. Then Ongwe Ias shot an arrow into the manikin, which fell to the ground. He shouted at the dogs, “Do not eat the flesh! Do not eat the flesh!” Thereupon they let the body go, but he found that it was made merely of bits of red willow.

Starting again on the trail, the dogs ran around for a long time in every direction over the island. Finally Ongwe Ias heard the two surviving dogs barking fiercely; they were at the bones again. Coming up, he shouted: “Why do you deceive me? Long ago I ate your flesh. Why do you trouble me now?” and, seizing his club, he pounded the bones savagely.

A third time he set out with his two dogs on a trail. The dogs followed this until they came to a tree in which was a manikin. This figure shot one of the dogs, killing it. Then Ongwe Ias shot the manikin, which fell to the ground a mass of rotten wood. [221]

Hodadeñon in his hiding place heard the chasing during the entire night, the barking of the dogs and the shouting of the Ongwe Ias; also the sounds made by the club striking his uncle, the bones. When daylight had come and all was quiet Hodadeñon, emerging from his hiding place, returned to his uncle, who welcomed him with the words: “Well, my nephew, you are alive yet. So will you now go to bring my pouch to me, and let me have a smoke, and I will tell you then what to do next.” Hodadeñon quickly fetched the pouch and filled the pipe with tobacco and, lighting it, he placed it in the mouth of his uncle, who smoked with great pleasure, letting the smoke come out of every suture in his skull and through its eye sockets and nose and ear openings. The uncle said to his nephew, “I thank you for this smoke. Now take the pouch back, and when you return we will talk over our troubles.” Hodadeñon carefully concealed the pouch, and when he returned to his uncle he was ready to hear what he must do next.

The uncle then said to him, “Now go to the place where the canoe of Ongwe Ias usually makes a landing; there dig a hole in the shore and bury yourself in the sand, leaving only the tip of your nose out. When Shagowenotha lands and hurries away to the opposite side of the island, you must get up quickly and board the canoe and have the ducks paddle you back to the mainland. So, nephew, take courage and you will win.”

While Hodadeñon was covering himself he heard Shagowenotha singing to the ducks as they paddled him over the water. Soon he heard the canoe ground on the sandy shore and a voice saying, “I shall now go to the place where my nephew has spilled his blood.” Paying strict attention to the advice of his uncle, the bones, Hodadeñon knew exactly what to do next. As soon as Shagowenotha was out of sight Hodadeñon arose quickly, and, calling the ducks, he pushed the canoe back into the water; then he began to sing, “Now we paddle, my ducks; now we paddle, my ducks.” The ducks paddled so swiftly that the canoe fairly flew over the water. The canoe was far out on the lake when Ongwe Ias saw it. At once he rushed to the beach and called out, “Let me get aboard! Let me get aboard!”

Hodadeñon heard but paid no attention to this entreaty; on the contrary, turning to the monsters dwelling in the depths of the lake, he said, “If Shagowenotha should try to swim after me, do you devour him.” Then from the water came a confusion of voices saying hoarsely, “It shall be done; it shall be done.” [222]

Shagowenotha ran up and down the shore, but he could not make his escape. When night came he climbed a tall tree. With the coming of thick darkness the Ongwe Ias came with his three dogs—he had restored to life the two that had been killed by the manikins—and he began at once to chase around with them to find traces of Hodadeñon, for he thought that he was still on the island. At last the dogs led him to the tree in which Shagowenotha had sought shelter. The dogs barked furiously at Shagowenotha in the tree. When Ongwe Ias came up Shagowenotha cried out, “Oh, do not shoot me! I am Shagowenotha.” Ongwe Ias tauntingly replied, “You may call yourself Shagowenotha, but you can not fool me,” and let fly an arrow at the Shagowenotha, who tumbled to the ground dead. Then Ongwe Ias carried off the body and cast it into the canoe, after which he paddled away.

The next morning Hodadeñon said, “Now I shall go to the lodge of Ongwe Ias.” Pushing the canoe out from the shore, he began to sing for the ducks, which came and paddled the canoe until almost evening, when Hodadeñon saw woods on the shore and a lodge standing near the water. Bringing the canoe to the beach, he hid it under the water; then he said to the ducks, “You may go your way until I call for you.” A woman came out of the lodge carrying two pieces of bark, and called to Hodadeñon to remain in the water, where he had sunk the canoe. Going to him, she placed a piece of bark at the water’s edge, telling Hodadeñon to step on it; then putting down the next piece of bark, she asked him to step on that. Then she put the first piece before the second, and then the second before the first, and Hodadeñon kept stepping on bark until at last he reached the lodge without leaving a single track on the ground. When they were in the lodge Hodadeñon said to the woman: “I have come after you. I am your brother. What will you do?” She replied, “I will go with you, but you must remain here until midday to-morrow.” Under her couch was a smaller one, in which she put her brother; then replacing her own over it, she sat on the top.

Soon the yelping of the dogs told of the arrival of Ongwe Ias, and his footsteps were heard. When the first dog came in, with his mouth open, the woman threw a bone into it, and afterward hit him on the head. The Ongwe Ias at once shouted at her, “Oh, you have killed my dog.” In reply she asked, “Why do they run at me as they do? I have done nothing to them.” Calling them off, he said, “I have had bad luck to-day. I have found nothing but a small cub.” Thereupon he prepared his game, which he cooked with pounded corn. When he had finished eating it he said, “My food was very tender and good, and now I shall take a smoke.” Soon he added, “It seems to me, my niece, that you have two breaths.” She answered sharply: [223]“That is too much to say. You might as well kill me. You should not talk that way.”

After he had been gone some time the woman said, “He must be at his destination by this time, so you may come out.” Hodadeñon came out from under the couch and went with the woman to the lake. There he raised the canoe; getting aboard, the two paddled away as quickly as possible. When they had reached the middle of the lake they suddenly heard Ongwe Ias shouting to them, “You can not escape from me! You can not escape from me!” Running into the lodge, he seized a hook and line, which he hurled at Hodadeñon, at the same time saying, “Catch the canoe!” At once the hook did so and Ongwe Ias was pulling the canoe swiftly back to shore. Suddenly the woman saw that the forest on the shore seemed to be coming nearer and nearer, and then she saw the hook and line and Ongwe Ias at the other end of the line. She screamed to Hodadeñon to break the hook. This he quickly did and they were again free; thereupon they speedily paddled back to the middle of the lake. Then Ongwe Ias, in a great rage, screaming, “You shall not escape from me,” started to run along the bottom of the lake toward his intended victims; but at the moment he was at the bottom Hodadeñon said, “Let there be ice all over the lake so thick that nothing can break through it, and let our canoe be on the top of the ice.”

When Ongwe Ias thought that he was under the canoe he sprang upward toward the surface with all his might, striking the ice with such force that it cracked all over the lake. The force of the blow crushed the head of Ongwe Ias, so that he died.

At once Hodadeñon willed that the ice melt away as rapidly as it had formed. When the ice was gone he and his sister paddled to the shore. On landing, they traveled on homeward. When they reached home they entered the lodge by the western doorway; then going around by the way of the south to the eastern side, Hodadeñon took his sister to the last couch, which was at the northwestern corner, where he seated her. The family was now complete and happy.