Navaho Legends

460. Natĭ′nĕsthani,201 He Who Teaches Himself, lived, with his relations, near the mountain of Dsĭlnáotĭl. The few people who lived there used to wander continually around the mountain, hence its name, Encircled Mountain. Natĭ′nĕsthani delighted in gambling, but was not successful. He lost at game, not only all his own goods, but all the goods and jewels of his relations, until there was only one article of value left—a necklace consisting of several strings of white beads. His parents and brother lived in one lodge; his grandmother and niece lived in another, a little distance from the first. When the gambler had parted with everything except the necklace, his brother took this to the lodge of his grandmother and gave it to her, saying: “My brother has gambled away everything save this. Should he lose this at game, it is the last thing he will ever lose, for then I shall kill him.”

461. Natĭ′nĕsthani did not spend all his time gambling; sometimes he hunted for wood-rats and rabbits in the mountains. The day the necklace was brought, in returning from his hunt, he came to the house of his grandmother and saw the necklace hanging up there. “Why is this here?” he asked. “It is put here for safe-keeping,” replied his niece. “Your brother values it and has asked us to take care of it. If you lose it in gambling, he has threatened to kill you. I have heard the counsels of the family about you. They are tired of you. If you lose this necklace at play, it is the last thing you will ever lose.” On hearing this he only said to his niece, “I must think what I shall do,” and he lay down to rest.

462. Next morning he rose early, made his breakfast of wood-rats, and went out to hunt, travelling toward the east. He stopped at one place, set fall-traps for wood-rats, and slept there all night. During the night he pondered on many plans. He thought at first he would go farther east and leave his people forever; but again he thought, “Who will hunt wood-rats for my niece when I am gone?” and he went back to her lodge and gave her all the little animals he had killed.

463. In the morning he breakfasted again on wood-rats, and said to himself: “I shall go to-day to the south and never return.” Such was his intention as he went on his way. He travelled to the south, and spent the night out again; but in the morning he changed his mind, and came back to his niece with wood-rats and rabbits and the seeds of wild plants that he had gathered. The women cooked some of the wood-rats for his supper that night. When he lay down he thought of his brother’s threats, and made plans again for running away. He had not touched the beads, though he longed to take them.

464. Next morning he went to the west, hunted there all day, and camped out at night as before; but again he could not make up his mind to leave his people, though he thought much about it; so he returned to his niece with such food as he had been able to get for her, and slept in the lodge that night.

465. On the following day he went to the north and hunted. He slept little at night while camping out, for his mind was filled with sad thoughts. “My brother disowns me,” he said to himself. “My parents refuse me shelter. My niece, whom I love most, barely looks at me. I shall never go back again.” Yet, for all these words, when morning came he returned to the lodge.19

466. By this time he was very poor, and so were his grandmother and niece. His sandals, made of grass and yucca-fibre, were worn through, and the blanket made of yucca-fibre and cedar-bark, which covered his back, was ragged.177 But the people in the other lodge were better off. They gave the grandmother and niece food at times; but always watched these closely when they came for food, lest they should carry off something to give the gambler. “Let him live,” said his parents, “on wood-rats and rabbits as well as he can.”

467. The night after he returned from his hunt to the north he slept little, but spent the time mostly in thinking and making plans. What these plans were you shall soon know, for the next day he began to carry them out. His thought for his niece was now the only thing that made him care to stay at home.

468. In the morning after this night of thought he asked his niece to roast for him four wood-rats; he tied these together and set out for the San Juan River. When he got to the banks of the river he examined a number of cottonwood trees until he found one that suited him. He burned this down and burned it off square at the base. He kept his fire from burning up the whole trunk by applying mud above the place to be burned. His plan was to make a hollow vessel by which he could go down the San Juan River. It was his own plan. He had never heard of such a thing before. The Navahoes had never anything better than rafts, and these were good only to cross the river. He lay down beside the log to see where he should divide it, for he had planned to make the vessel a little longer than himself, and he burned the log across at the place selected. All this he did in one day, and then he went home, collecting rats on the way; but he told his niece nothing about the log. He slept that night in the lodge.

469. He went back, next morning, to his log on the banks of the San Juan, and spent the day making the log hollow by means of fire, beginning at the butt end. He succeeded in doing only a part of this work in one day. It took him four days to burn the hole through from one end of the log to the other and to make it wide enough to hold his body. At the end of each day’s work he returned to his grandmother’s lodge, and got wood-rats and rabbits on his way home.

470. The next day, after the hole was finished, was spent in making and inserting plugs. He moistened a lot of shredded cedar-bark and pounded it between stones so as to make a soft mass. He shoved a large piece of this in at the butt end and rammed it down to the tip end. In burning out the log, he had burned, where the tree branched, four holes which he did not need, and these he filled with plugs of the cedar-bark. He prepared another plug to be rammed into the butt from the inside, after he entered the log, and when this was finished he went home to his grandmother’s house, collecting wood-rats from his traps as he went.

471. The next morning his niece cooked several wood-rats and ground for him a good quantity—as much as could be held in two hands—of the seeds of tloʻtsózi (Sporobolus cryptandrus). This meal she put in a bag of wood-rat skins sewed together. Thus provided he went back to his log. He put the provisions into the hole and then proceeded to enter, in person, to see if the log was sound and the hole big enough. He entered, head foremost, and crawled inwards until half of his chest was in the log, when he heard a voice crying, “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú!”26 and he came out to see who called. He looked in every direction and examined the ground for tracks, but seeing no signs of any intruder he proceeded again to enter the log. This time he got in as far as his waist, when again he heard the cry of “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú,” but louder and nearer than before. Again he came out of the log and looked around farther and more carefully than he did the first time, going in his search to the margin of the river; but he saw no one, found no tracks, and returned to his log. On the next trial he entered as far as his knees, when for the third time the cry sounded, and he crept out once more to find whence it came. He searched farther, longer, and more closely than on either of the previous occasions, but without success, and he went back to enter the log again. On the fourth trial, when he had entered as far as his feet, he heard the cry loud and near, and he felt some one shaking the log. He crept out for the fourth time and beheld Hastséyalti, the Talking God,73 standing over him.

472.Hastséyalti did not speak at first, but told the man by signs that he must not get into the log, that he would surely be drowned if he did, and that he must go home. Then Hastséyalti walked off a distance from the log and motioned to the Navaho to come to him. When Natĭ′nĕsthani came near the god, the latter spoke, saying: “My grandchild, why are you doing all this work? Where do you intend to go with this log?” The man then told the god all his sad story, and ended by saying: “I am an outcast. I wish to get far away from my people. Take pity on me. Stop me not, but let me go in this log as far as the waters of the Old Age River (San Juan) will bear me.” Hastséyalti replied: “No. You must not attempt to go into that log. You will surely be drowned if you do. I shall not allow you.” Four times Natĭ′nĕsthani pleaded, and four times the god denied him. Then the god said: “Have you any precious stones?” “Yes,” replied the man. “Have you white shell beads? Have you turquoise?” and thus the god went on asking him, one by one, if he had all the original eighteen sacred things202 that must be offered to the gods to gain their favor. To each of his questions the man replied “Yes,” although he had none of these things, and owned nothing but the rags that covered him. “It is well,” said the god. “You need not enter that log to make your journey. Go home and stay there for four nights. At daylight, after the fourth night, you may expect to see me again. Have yourself and your house clean and in order for my coming. Have the floor and all around the house swept carefully.

473. As soon as he came home, Natĭ′nĕsthani told his niece what things he wanted (except the baskets and the sacred buckskins); but he did not tell her for what purpose he required them, and he asked her to steal them from their neighbors. This she did, a few things at a time, and during many visits. It took her three days to steal them all. On the evening of the third day, after they had washed themselves with the yucca suds, he told her about the baskets and the sacred buckskins which he needed. She went to the neighboring lodge and stole these articles, wrapping the baskets up in the buckskins. When she returned with her booty, he wrapped all the stolen goods up in the skins, put them away in the edge of the lodge, and lay down to rest. He was a good sleeper, and usually slept all night; but on this occasion he woke about midnight, and could not go to sleep again.

474. At dawn he heard, faintly, the distant “Wuʻhuʻhuʻhú” of Hastséyalti. At once he woke his grandmother, saying: “I hear a voice. The dĭgíni (holy ones, divine ones) are coming.” “You fool,” she replied. “Shut your mouth and go to sleep. They would never come to visit such poor people as we are,” and she fell asleep again. In a little while he heard the voice a second time, louder and nearer, and again he shook his grandmother and told her he heard the voices of the gods; but she still would not believe him, and slept again. The third time that he awoke her, when he heard the voices still more plainly, she remained awake, beginning to believe him. The fourth time the call sounded loud and clear, as if cried by one standing at the door. “Hear,” he said to his grandmother. “Is that not truly the voice of a divine one?” At last she believed him, and said in wonder: “Why should the dĭgíni come to visit us?”

475.Hastséyalti and Hastséhogan were at the door, standing on the rainbow on which they had travelled. The former made signs to the man, over the curtain which hung in the doorway, bidding him pull the curtain aside and come out. “Grandmother,” said the Navaho, “Hastséyalti calls me to him.” “It is well,” she answered. “Do as he bids you.” As he went out, bearing his bundle of sacrificial objects, he said: “I go with the divine ones, but I shall come back again to see you.” The niece had a pet turkey203 that roosted on a tree near the lodge, Hastséyalti made signs to the Navaho to take the turkey along. The Navaho said: “My niece, the gods bid me take your turkey, and I would gladly do it, for I am going among strange people, where I shall be lonely. I love the bird; he would be company to me and remind me of my home. Yet I shall not take him against your will.” “Then you may have my turkey pet,” replied the niece. The old woman said to the god: “I shall be glad to have my grandchild back again. Will you let him return to us?” Hastséyalti only nodded his head. The gods turned the rainbow around sunwise, so that its head,204 which formerly pointed to the door of the lodge, now pointed in a new direction. Hastséyalti got on the bow first. He made the Navaho get on behind him. Hastséhogan got on behind the man. “Shut your eyes,” commanded Hastséyalti, and the Navaho did as he was bidden.

476. In a moment Hastséyalti cried again: “Open your eyes.” The Navaho obeyed and found himself far away from his home at Tséʻtadi, where the dĭgíni dwelt. They led him into a house in the rock which was full of divine people. It was beautiful inside—the walls were covered with rock crystal, which gave forth a brilliant light. Hastséyalti ordered food brought for his visitor. The latter was handed a small earthen cup only so big (a circle made by the thumb and index finger joined at the tips) filled with mush. “What a poor meal to offer a stranger!” thought the Navaho, supposing he would finish it in one mouthful. But he ate, and ate, and ate, and ate, from the cup and could not empty it. When he had eaten till he was satisfied the little cup was as full as in the beginning.205 He handed the cup, when he was done, back to Hastséyalti, who, with one sweep of his finger, emptied it, and it remained empty. The little cup was then filled with water and given to the guest to drink. He drank till his thirst was satisfied; but the cup was as full when he was done as it was when he began. He handed it again to Hastséyalti, who put it to his own lips and emptied it at a single swallow.

477. The gods opened the bundle of the Navaho and examined the contents to see if he had brought all they required, and they found he had done so. In the mean time he filled his pipe and lighted it. While he was smoking, the gods Nayénĕzgạni, Tóʻbadzĭstsíni, and Hastséoltoi206 arrived from Toʻyĕ′tli and entered the house. Nayénĕzgạni said to the visitor: “I hear that you were found crawling into a hole which you had made in a log by burning. Why were you doing this?” In reply the Navaho told his whole story, as he had told it to Hastséyalti, and ended by saying: “I wished to go to Toʻyĕ′tli, where the rivers meet, or wherever else the waters would bear me. While I was trying to carry out this plan, my grandfather, Hastséyalti, found me and bade me not to go. For this reason only I gave my plan up and went home.” “Do you still wish to go to Toʻyĕ′tli?” said Nayénĕzgạni. “Yes,” said the Navaho, “I wish to go to Toʻyĕ′tli or as far down the San Juan as I can get.” “Then you shall go,” said the god.

478. Nayénĕzgạni went forth from the house and the other gods followed him. They went to a grove of spruce, and there picked out a tree of unusual size. They tied rainbow ropes to it, so that it might not fall with too great force and break in falling. Nayénĕzgạni and Toʻbadzĭstsíni cut it near the root with their great stone knives, and it fell to the north. Crooked Lightning struck the fallen tree and went through it from butt to tip. Straight Lightning struck it and went through it from tip to butt. Thus the hole was bored in the log, and this was done before the branches were cut away. The hole that Crooked Lightning bored was too crooked. Straight Lightning made it straight, but still it was too small. Black Wind was sent into the hole, and he made it larger, but not large enough. Blue Wind, Yellow Wind, and White Wind entered the hole, each in turn, and each, as he went through, made it a little larger. It was not until White Wind had done his work that the hole was big enough to contain the body of a man. Hastséyalti supplied a bowl of food, a vessel of water, and a white cloud for bedding. They wrapped the Navaho up in the cloud and put him into the log. They plugged the ends with clouds,—a black cloud in the butt and a blue cloud in the tip,—and charged him not to touch either of these cloudy plugs. When they got him into the log some one said: “How will he get light? How will he know when it is night and when it is day?”

479. While some of the gods were preparing the log, others were getting the pet turkey ready for his journey, but they did this unknown to the Navaho. They put about his body black cloud, he-rain, black mist, and she-rain. They put under his wings white corn, yellow corn, blue corn, corn of mixed colors, squash seed, watermelon seed, muskmelon seed, gourd seed, and beans of all colors. These were the six gods who prepared the turkey: four of the Gánaskĭdi207 from a place called Depéhahatil, one Hastséhogan from Tseʻgíhi,165 and the Hastséhogan from Tséʻtadi,—the one who found the Navaho entering his cottonwood log and took him home to the house in the rocks.

480. The next thing they had to think about was how they should carry the heavy log to the river with the man inside of it. They put under the log (first) a rope of crooked lightning, (second) a rope of rainbow, (third) a rope of straight lightning, and (fourth) another rope of rainbow. They attached a sunbeam to each end of the log. All the gods except those who were engaged in preparing the turkey tried to move the log, but they could not stir it; and they sent for the six who were at work on the turkey to come to their aid. Two of the Gánaskĭdi were now stationed at each end, and two of the Hastséhogan in the middle. The others were stationed at other parts. The Gánaskĭdi put their wands under the log crosswise, thus, X. All lifted together, and the log was carried along. Some of them said: “If strength fail us and we let the log fall, we shall not attempt to raise it again, and the Navaho will not make his journey.” As they went along some became tired and were about to let the log go, but the winds came to help them—Black Wind and Blue Wind in front, Yellow Wind and White Wind behind, and soon the log was borne to the margin of the river. As they went along, Tóʻnenĭli,98 the Water Sprinkler, made fun and played tricks, as he now does in the dances, to show that he was pleased with what they were doing. While the gods were at work the Navaho sang five songs, each for a different part of the work; the significant words of the songs were these:—

481. When they threw the log on the surface of the water it floated around in different directions, but would not go down stream, so the gods consulted together to determine what they should do. They covered the log first with black mist and then with black cloud. Some of the gods standing on the banks punched the log with their plumed wands, when it approached the shore or began to whirl round, and they kept this up till it got into a straight course, with its head pointed down stream, and floated on. When the gods were punching the log to get it into the current, the Navaho sang a song, the principal words of which were:—

482. All went well till they approached a pueblo called Kĭ′ndotlĭz, or Blue House,208 when two of the Kisáni, who were going to hunt eaglets, saw the log floating by, though they could not see the gods that guided its course. Wood was scarce around Blue House. When the men saw the log they said, “There floats a big tree. It would furnish us fuel for many days if we could get it. We must try to bring it to the shore.” The two men ran back to the pueblo and announced that a great log was coming down the river. A number of people turned out to seize it. Most of them ran down the stream to a shallow place where they could all wade in, to await the arrival of the log, while a few went up along the bank to herald its approach. When it came to the shallow place they tried to break off branches, but failed. They tied ropes to the branches, and tried to pull it ashore; but the log, hurried on by the current, carried the crowd with it. But the next time the log got to a shallow place the Kisáni got it stranded, and sent back to the pueblo for axes, intending to cut off branches and make the log light. When the gods saw the people coming with axes they said: “Something must be done.” They sent down a great shower of rain, but the Kisáni held on to the log. They sent hail, with hailstones as big as two fists; but still the Kisáni held on. They sent lightning to the right—the people to the left held on. They sent lightning to the left—the people to the right held on. They sent lightning in all directions four times, when, at last, the Kisáni let go and the log floated on.

Now the gods laid upon the log a cloud so thick that no one could see through it; they put a rainbow lengthwise and a rainbow crosswise over it, and they caused the zigzag lightning to flash all around it. When the Kisáni saw all these things they began to fear. “The gods must guard this log,” they said. “Yes,” said the chief. “Go to your homes, and let the log pass on. It must be holy.”

483. The log floated steadily with the stream till it came to a place where a ridge of rocks, standing nearly straight up, disturbs the current, and here the log became entangled in the rocks. But two of the Fringe-mouths209 of the river raised it from the rocks and set it floating again. They turned the log around, one standing at each end, until they got it lying lengthwise with the current, and then they let it float away.

484. Thence it floated safely to Tóʻhodotlĭz, where the gods on the bank observed it stopping and slowly sinking, until only a few leaves on the ends of the branches could be seen. It was the sacred people under the water who had pulled the log down this time. These were Tiéholtsodi, Tielín,210 Frog, Fish, Beaver, Otter, and others. They took the Navaho out of the log and bore him down to their home under the water. The gods on the bank held a council to consider why the tree stuck. They shook it and tried to get it loose, but they could not move it. Then they called on Tóʻnenĭli, Water Sprinkler, to help them. He had two magic water jars, Toʻsadĭlyĭ′l, the black jar, which he carried in his right hand, and Toʻsadotlĭ′z, the blue jar, which he carried in his left hand; with these he struck the water to the right and to the left, crying as he did so his call of “Tuʻwuʻwuʻwú!” The water opened before him and allowed him to descend. He went around the tree, and when he came to the butt he found that the plug had been withdrawn and that the Navaho was no longer there. He called up to his friends on the bank and told them what he had found. They spread a short rainbow211 for him to travel on, and he went to the house of the divine ones under the water. This house consisted of four chambers, one under another, like the stories of a pueblo dwelling. The first chamber, that on top, was black; the second was blue; the third yellow; the fourth white.18 Two of the Tielín, or water pets with blue horns, stood at the door facing one another, and roared as Tóʻnenĭli passed.

He descended from one story to another, but found no one till he came to the last chamber, and here he saw Tiéholtsodi, the water monster; Tsal, Frog (a big rough frog); Tsa, Beaver, Tábastin, Otter, Tloʻayuĭnlĭ′tigi (a great fish), and the captive Navaho. “I seek my grandchild. Give him to me,” said Tóʻnenĭli. “Shut your mouth and begone,” said Tiéholtsodi. “Such as you cannot come here giving orders. I fear you not, Water Sprinkler; you shall not have your grandchild.” Then Tóʻnenĭli went out again and told his friends what had happened to him, and what had been said in the house of Tiéholtsodi under the water.

485. The gods held another council. “Who shall go down and rescue our grandchild?” was the question they asked one another. While they were talking Hastsézĭni212 (Black God), who owns all fire, sat apart and took no part in the council. He had built a fire, while the others waited, and sat with his back to it, as was his custom. “Go tell your grandfather there what has occurred,” said the others to Tóʻnenĭli. The latter went over to where Hastsézĭni sat. “Why are they gathered together yonder and of what do they talk so angrily?” said the Black God. In answer, Tóʻnenĭli told of his adventures under the water and what Tiéholtsodi had said to him. Hastsézĭni was angry when he heard all this. “I fear not the sacred people beneath the water,” he said. “I shall have my grandchild.” He hastened to the river, taking Tóʻnenĭli with him, for Tóʻnenĭli had the power to open the water, and these two descended into the river. When they reached the room where Tiéholtsodi sat, the Black God said, “We come together for our grandchild.” “Run out there, both of you. Such as you may not enter here,” said Tiéholtsodi. “I go not without my grandson. Give him to me, and I shall go,” said the other. “Run out,” repeated Tiéholtsodi, “I shall not release your grandchild.” “I shall take my grandchild. I fear you not.” “I shall not restore him to you. I heed not your words.” “I never recall what I have once spoken. I have come for my grandchild, and I shall not leave without him.” “I said you should not go with him, and I mean what I say. I am mighty.”