The Girl Who Married the Moon Page 2

  Although some of the men in the village realized that Arrowhead Finger had run away, she knew the woods so well that she had concealed her trail. No one was able to track her. She traveled on and on, day after day, always going toward the rising sun. At last, she came to a familiar river and saw a man in a canoe. It was her own father.

  “My daughter,” he said as she ran up and threw her arms around him. “I have been waiting here for you. A baby came to me in my dreams last night and told me to cross the river so that I could bring you home.”

  Then Arrowhead Finger returned to her own village, and all the people greeted her with great joy.

  Back in the Maguak village, the young men who had wished to burn Arrowhead Finger were filled with anger at her escape. They began to make plans to go on a raiding party to recapture her.

  As they made their plans, the one who was going to lead the raiding party became very sick—so sick, it seemed he would die. And, one by one, all the other young men who wished to kill Arrowhead Finger became deathly ill. No one knew how to cure them. The chiefs held a council and many people spoke, but no one knew what to do until the old woman who had adopted Arrowhead Finger came forward.

  “My grandson is the one who has made the young men sick,” she said. “He is protecting his mother by turning her enemies’ own bad thoughts against them to make them ill. His medicine power is great. You cannot defeat him. Come to my lodge. Perhaps if you ask him for mercy, he will take pity on all of you.”

  Everyone listened to the old woman, and it was decided to do as she said. The chiefs of the village went to her longhouse, where they found her grandson. To their great surprise, he was no longer a small baby, but had grown into a young man.

  “We have come to tell you we are sorry that we abused your mother. We know you are the one whose power is making our young men sick. Do not kill them, and we will make you chief of all the village. We will be your people.”

  The medicine boy listened closely as those words were spoken.

  “I have heard what you say,” he answered. “It was my intention to kill all those young men. But now, I will let them live. Go into the forest. There I will give you the medicine plants that will make them well, for I am Gwelahb’hot, and when you need medicine, you must come to me. I will not be your chief. Instead, I will remain in the forest, which will be my wigwam. I will be one of the spirits. You will not see me, but if you show respect to the plants, I will lead you to the ones that are medicine.”

  So it was that medicine plants were given to the people by Gwelahb’hot. And when Arrowhead Finger walked into the forest near her village, she heard the voice of her son speaking to her, leading her to the plants that could be used to cure the sicknesses that came to the people. It is his voice that all the people who seek to find medicines hear when they listen well and treat the plants with respect, just as Arrowhead Finger did long ago.

  The Abandoned Girl

  Seneca

  Hauh oneh djyadaondyus! Hear now this story! There was a girl who lived in a village close to the great river. Her name was Dancing Reed. She was almost at the age when a young woman would choose the man she wished to marry. Soon her mother would send her to the lodge of that man’s mother with a gift of marriage bread. Then she would ask that the woman’s son be given to her family. It was well known who the man would be. His name was Two Feathers, and many girls had hoped that, one day, he might be their husband. But it was known that the mother of Two Feathers was fond of Dancing Reed and would approve no other girl.

  So it was that three of the other girls decided they would get rid of Dancing Reed. If she was gone from the village, one of them would be able to take Two Feathers as a husband.

  It was the time the huckleberries were ripe and groups of women would go out from the village with their berry baskets. Knowing that Dancing Reed was one of the fastest berry pickers, the three girls made their plan. Then they went to Dancing Reed.

  “Sister,” they said, “we have found a good place to pick berries. Come with us, and we will fill our baskets.”

  Dancing Reed, who never thought badly of anyone, did not suspect what they intended. “Niaweh,” she said. “Thank you. I will gladly come with you, sisters.” She followed the three other girls, who led her down to the wide river.

  “We must go in this canoe over to the big island, the one that is so far out on the river it can hardly be seen,” one of the girls told her. “No one goes over there, and it has many berry bushes.”

  “My parents have told me it is dangerous to go to that island,” Dancing Reed said. “They say Sagowenota, a powerful wizard who drowns people, lives there. They told me that he is the enemy of the Underwater People, the ones who help human beings.”

  “We do not believe such stories,” said another of the girls, laughing at Dancing Reed’s words.

  “Are you afraid to go with us because of those old made-up stories?” asked the third girl.

  “No,” Dancing Reed said, “I am not afraid. I will go with you. I will get my things.”

  Then Dancing Reed ran back to her longhouse to get her berry basket. She also took with her a pouch of tobacco, for her parents had told her that the Underwater People liked it. If ever she were in trouble, she could offer tobacco to them and ask for help.

  The four girls climbed into the canoe and paddled to the island. The current was very swift. It was clear that no one could swim across the river without being carried away and washed over the falls downstream. But the girls paddled hard and well, and they came to the island safely.

  As soon as they pulled their boat onto the beach, they picked up their berry baskets and started to walk inland. They had gone only a short distance when Dancing Reed stopped.

  “Look,” she said. “There are many bushes covered with ripe berries here. This is close to the canoe. We will not have to carry our baskets so far.”

  “That is good,” said another girl. “You stay and pick from these bushes. We will walk farther inland and find other places to pick.” Then they walked up the trail and disappeared from sight.

  Dancing Reed began to pick the huckleberries. Her berry basket was large, and the sun moved across the sky as she picked. When she had finished filling her basket, it was late in the day, but the other girls had not returned on the trail.

  Perhaps they have gone to the shore by another path, and they are waiting for me, Dancing Reed thought. She lifted the basket to her back, put her carrying strap across her forehead, and began to walk. The path led straight to the water’s edge, but when she arrived there, Dancing Reed looked around in confusion.

  “Have I followed the wrong path?” she said to herself. “I do not see the canoe.”

  She put down her berry basket and walked to the edge of the shore. Before long, her sharp eyes found the marks where the canoe had been drawn back into the water, and there, in the sand, ending at the water’s edge, were the footprints of the other girls. They had left her on the island.

  It was growing dark now, and Dancing Reed looked around. Although she was in great trouble, she did not despair. Her thoughts were clear. Perhaps the wizard Sagowenota did live on this island. If she made a fire, it would lead him to her, and he would drown her. She took out her pouch of tobacco and placed some next to the water.

  “Underwater People,” she said, “I am in need of help.”

  But there was no answer from the river. Dancing Reed stepped back. Her only chance was to hide. She took the basket of berries and concealed it in some bushes. Then she searched for a hiding place. Just as the sun was setting, she saw a big, hollow log that had washed high up on the shore. She gathered dry moss to make a bed for herself and crawled into the log. Dancing Reed listened for a long time to the sounds of the night, fearful that she would hear the footsteps of Sagowenota. Finally, though, she fell asleep.

  Dancing Reed did not know how long she slept before a loud whooping call woke her. She sat up and listened. The call came again, not from the island, bu
t from far out on the river.

  Perhaps someone has come to look for me, she thought. She looked out the end of the log and saw first one light, and then another, and another, dancing back and forth on the river’s surface. They moved as quickly as giant fireflies and were coming closer and closer.

  Dancing Reed had heard that when people saw lights over the river at night, those lights were the Underwater People. Although her parents had told her those underwater beings were helpful, she also remembered that others said they could be dangerous. Dancing Reed decided it would be wisest for her to remain hidden in the log.

  The lights came darting closer and closer. Then, as they reached the shore, they went out. There was no moon, and so it was hard for Dancing Reed to see. But it seemed as if large shapes were sitting on the beach not far from her hiding place. They did not quite look like human beings, and Dancing Reed kept very quiet.

  Then she heard the voices of the Underwater People.

  “Brothers,” a growling voice said, “the girl is hidden in the log.”

  “She will be safe tonight from Sagowenota,” said another voice, softer than the first one. “He does not know she is on the island, and he will not come here while we are in council.”

  “It is right that we should help her,” said a third voice, as harsh as flint. “I will show myself to her tomorrow and carry her back to shore.”

  “No, brother,” said a fourth voice, which whispered like wind through a feather. “All of you are frightening to look at. If she were to see any of you, she would run away. I will show myself to her when the dawn comes and help her return to her people.”

  “That is good,” said the first voice. “Now the girl must sleep while we have our council.”

  With those words, Dancing Reed found herself growing very weary. I will rest for just a moment, she thought. She closed her eyes and leaned back onto the moss. When she opened her eyes again, the bright light of early dawn was shining in through the end of the hollow log.

  Dancing Reed crawled out of the log, eager to see who had offered to help her. There, at the edge of the water, she saw a sight both frightening and beautiful. A great serpent, his head lifted high, looked directly at her with his bright, golden eyes. On top of his head were two big horns like those of a buffalo.

  “Granddaughter,” the great serpent said in his feathery voice, “I have come to help you. I am Djodi’kwado, one of the Underwater People. I have been chosen to help you escape from this island and the monster Sagowenota. You must be brave and do as I tell you.”

  “Grandfather,” Dancing Reed said, “tell me what I must do to escape.”

  “You must cut twelve willow switches,” Djodi’kwado said. “When I grow tired as I carry you, use one of those willows to encourage me by striking it against my side. The Thunder Beings, who are summoned by Sagowenota, do not like those of us who live underwater. They are not your enemies, but they will try to kill me with their lightning arrows. If I am struck by their bolts, you may also be injured. So it is important that I continue to swim quickly.”

  “I will do as you say, Grandfather,” said Dancing Reed. She went and gathered twelve willow switches, sticking them under her belt. Then the great serpent leaned down his head.

  “Quick,” he said. “Sagowenota is coming to the beach.”

  Dancing Reed climbed up onto Djodi’kwado’s neck, holding on to his horns as he lifted her up, turned, and plunged into the swift water of the river. Behind her, she heard the roar of Sagowenota as he ran down the beach—too late to catch her.

  “We must hurry,” the great serpent said. “Sagowenota cannot reach us now, but he will surely call my enemies, the Thunder Beings!”

  Djodi’kwado swam swiftly. Soon the island was left far behind. Dancing Reed looked up into the sky as the great serpent swam. Off on the western horizon, she saw a small cloud. She took up the first willow switch and began to strike Djodi’kwado’s side.

  “Do not slow down,” she said. “The Thunder Beings are coming from the west.”

  As the great serpent swam on and on, the clouds grew darker and came closer. Each time he began to tire, Dancing Reed would use a willow switch to urge him on. One by one, Dancing Reed used the willow switches. When the last one broke, they were still far from the shore. The sound of thunder was rumbling above them.

  “Go faster,” Dancing Reed shouted. “Do not stop.”

  “I must dive for my life, Granddaughter,” Djodi’kwado cried.

  Suddenly, a great bolt of lightning struck the water behind them. Heavy, blinding rain fell around them. The great serpent dived down, and Dancing Reed found herself struggling alone in the water. Once again, it seemed that all was lost. But though she could not see the shore, Dancing Reed did not give up. She started to swim. When she had gone only a few strokes, her feet touched the bottom. She stood up just as the rain stopped. Dancing Reed could see she was not far from shore. The storm clouds drifted away, and the sky became clear again. In her hand was a small piece of the great serpent’s horn.

  Dancing Reed walked into the village. As soon as they saw her, the three girls who had abandoned her on the island fled. They knew they were disgraced. They left the village and were never seen again.

  Dancing Reed walked toward the end of the village, where she heard the sound of mourning. “What is wrong?” she said to the people standing around the longhouse of Two Feathers.

  “It is the young man inside,” they said. “The girl he was to marry drowned. When her three friends told him, he fell to the ground and stopped breathing.”

  “Look at me,” she said. “I am Dancing Reed. I have not drowned.”

  “Then you have come too late,” an old man said. “Nothing can be done. Two Feathers is dead.”

  “No,” said Dancing Reed. “I will not give up now.”

  Dancing Reed went into the longhouse. The people inside turned to look at her with surprise, but no one spoke, for she held the piece of the great serpent’s horn in her hand. Everyone knew that such a gift from the Underwater People gave special power to the one who held it. She went straight to the place where Two Feathers lay. His face was pale, and his skin was cold. She placed the piece of horn on his chest, and he began to breathe again. The color returned to his face, and he sat up.

  “Dancing Reed,” he said, “I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that you had drowned.”

  The next day, Dancing Reed’s mother made marriage bread for her. When Dancing Reed took it to the mother of Two Feathers, the older woman gladly gave her son to the fine young woman who had saved his life.

  So it was that Dancing Reed and Two Feathers were married and lived together in happiness. And as long as she lived, Dancing Reed always remembered to leave gifts of tobacco on the shore for the Underwater People.

  Naho. Here this story ends.

  The Girl and the Chenoo

  Passamaquoddy

  Long ago, there was a girl whose older brothers were hunters. When they went on their hunting trips far into the forest, she would sometimes go with them. Because she was always ready to hear their stories, they called her Little Listener and were happy to have her along. As she was the youngest, Little Listener was usually the one chosen to stay behind and take care of their camp. While her brothers were out on the game trails, she would repair their bark-covered lodge, gather plants for food, and dry wood for their fire. Then, near the end of the day, she would cook their meal in the big pot.

  Each night, when her three brothers returned from their hunting, they would all sit around the fire and speak of what had happened to them that day. They often had exciting stories to tell.

  “Today,” her oldest brother might say, “I found the tracks of a great moose and followed them across the hills. At last, I caught up with the moose by the fork in the crooked stream. But when I saw how big it was, I knew that if I killed it, it would be hard to carry its meat and hide back to our camp. And I already had caught enough game for the day. So I let it go.”
br />   “Today,” her second brother might say, “I found the den of a big bear. Just as I looked inside for it, I heard a sound behind me. There was that bear! But when I saw it was a mother with cubs, I knew it would not be right to shoot it. I had to run for my life to escape.”

  “Today,” her third brother, who was the most imaginative of the three, might say, “I was on the track of two deer. I had one arrow, so I waited until they were standing right next to each other. When I shot, my arrow went through the first deer and also killed the second one. Why have I brought home only one deer? After I put down my bow, a great mountain lion dropped from a tree branch. I picked up a stick and fought for a long time. See this scratch here on my hand? When it saw it could not defeat me, it grabbed the bigger deer and ran off.”

  So the three brothers would brag about their day of hunting. And whenever they asked their sister what she had done, her answer was always the same.

  “My day was quiet,” Little Listener would say. “I gathered food plants and firewood, and I cooked our meal.”

  It went on that way for some time. Then, one night, when the brothers returned, all three of them seemed to be badly frightened.

  “I have seen strange tracks to the north,” the first brother said. “Like those of a man, but much larger.”

  “I have also seen those tracks,” said the second brother. “But I saw them to the west.”

  “I have seen such tracks, too,” said the third brother. “I found those tracks to the south.”

  “I have seen nothing strange,” said the girl. “I have gathered berries and firewood, and I have made our meal.”

  That night, as they sat around the fire, the three brothers were quiet. At last, the oldest brother spoke. “Brothers,” he said, “I think we were mistaken. I think those were only the tracks of bears.”

  The two older brothers quickly agreed with him. Their young sister, however, remained silent. She, too, had actually seen such tracks. They had been very close to the eastern edge of the hill by their camp. And Little Listener knew those tracks were not those of a bear. There was only one creature that could make such tracks. It was the Chenoo, the great cannibal monster in the shape of a man. But she knew that even to speak the name of the Chenoo would invite it into their camp. So she said nothing as her brothers spoke, laughing and joking about being frightened by mere bear tracks.