VW 4m NTA M + + ~ NA M ~r 44I +A ~ + M N + vv~t~ ~~ ix4 +~ry + + ~ M Nq + + ~ + NA M ~ Nq "dO +A + + M + + + M NA M 0 1 0 tj, W, A 1/ + + + + Nq1 M + + + + Nm~ + + + M IN $VI —Crr I.I 1 fe. 1( + + + + M I + + + + N M IIQ A0 + + +,AV -LI ~1+ A 4 xy~ I MENOMINI TEXTS PUBLICATIONS of the American Ethnological Society Edited by FRANZ BOAS VOLUME XII MENOMINI TEXTS BY LEONARD BLOOMFIELD G. E. STECHERT & Co., NEW YORK, AGENTS. 1928. PRINTED IN GERMANY J. J. AUGUSTIN, GLdYCKSTADT AND HAMBURG. .4, 1 i - jt. t. 1, - — t P, CONTENTS. Page Preface........................................................... IX Explanation of Symbols........................................... XIII I. Everyday Life.............................................. 1 1. How the Menomini Lived of Old............................. 2 2. How the Menomini Married.................................. 2 3. The Puberty Fast.......................................... 4 4. The Hunter's Treat........................................ 6 5. Medicinal Herbs............................................ 8 6. Wild Ginger............................................... 8 7. Sweet Flag................................................ 1.0 8. The Prickly Ash........................................... 10 9. The Cup-Plant............................................ 12 10. A Few Herbs and their Uses............................... 12 11. A Medicine................................................ 12 12. Blue-Eyed Grass........................................... 14 13. Poison Ivy................................................ 14 14. How to Stop Hiccoughs.................................... 14 15. Rheumatism.............................................. 14 16. Biting Insects.............................................. 16 17. How Zoar People Spend the Summer......................... 16 18. How a Menomini Woman Earns Money....................... 16 19. Tools and Implements...................................... 18 20. Buying a Canoe.......................................... 20 21. Buying a Buggy........................................... 22 22. The Menomini Indian Fair.................................. 22 23. Lack of Good Breeding..................................... 24 24. A Proverb................................................ 24 25. A Bad Neighbor........................................... 24 26. Conversation of Two Men................................... 24 27. Brother-in-Law Jesting..................................... 26 28. Barrett and Skinner Eat a Turtle's Heart..................... 26 29. How I Killed a Bear....................................... 28 30. How Nehtsiwihtuk was Tempted............................ 30 31. Nehtsiwihtuk as a Trencherman............................. 30 32. Nehtsiwihtuk Receives a Sign from the Spring-God........... 36 33. How Red Cloud Woman Got her Name....................... 42 34. The Childhood of Red Cloud Woman......................... 42 35. The Similarity of Ojibwa and Menomini...................... 48 II. Songs...................................................... 51 36. Moccasin-Game Song....................................... 52 37. Dream-Dance Songs........................................ 52 38. Songs Used in the Peyote Cult.............................. 52 39. War Song................................................ 54 40. Song Fragments........................................... 54 41. Love Songs............................................... 54 42. Hunter's Charm........................................... 56 43. Jesting Song.............................................. 56 VI Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Page III. Prayers and Sermons....................................... 59 44. The Thunderers............................... 60 45. Prayer to a Medicinal Herb................................. 60 46. A Prayer to the Earth............................... 60 47. A Serm on................................................. 66 48. Fragment of a Sermon..................................... 68 49. The Origin of the Menomini People.......................... 70 50. Ancient Man.................................. 74 1V. N arratives........................................... 81 51. Tales of the Ancient Time.................................. 82 52. How a Menomini Freed his Wife............................. 84 53. How a Menomini Woman Escaped her Captors................86 54. The Death of a Spy........................................ 94 55. The Talking Dog...................................... 94 56. The Talking Dog. Second Version........................... 94 57. The Story of Pehkutsian.................................... 96 58. Getting Bounty from the English............................ 100 59. The Origin of the Dream Dance.................. 104 60. A Sorcerer and his Accomplices are Put to Death............. 106 61. A Sorcerer is Shot............................... 110 62. An Orphan is Protected by Spirits............................ 112 63. A Husband's Vengeance................................ 114 64. A Grandson's Answer....................................... 122 65. Love Beyond the Grave.................................... 124 V. Sacred Stories: the Culture Hero............................... 131 66. The Birth of Me'napus.................................. 132 67. The Birth of Me'napus. Second Version.................... 34 68. The Birth of Me'napus. Third Version.........................136 69. The Birth of Me'napus. Fourth Version.......................146 70. Me'napus Avenges his Son................................... 152 71. Me'napus Curses the Gods...................................158 72. Turtle Brings Ruin upon Himself............................. 158 73. Some Adventures of Me'napus............................ 172 74. Me'napus Goes A-Visiting......................... 186 75. Me'napus Visits his Little Brother, the Woodpecker...... 196 76. Me'napus Visits his Little Brother, the Squirrel................204 77. The Sweet Root............................................212 78. The Sweet Root. Second Version............................214 79. The Shut-Eye Dancers.....................................218 80. The Unfaithful Backside....................................220 81. The Shut-Eye Dancers. Second Version.......................222 82. Fisher Twits M e'napus.....................................230 83. Me'napus and the Buzzard..................................232 84. Me'napus and the Porcupine................................. 236 85. Me'napus and the Tree-Cat................................. 244 86. The Origin of the North Star................................ 246 87. The Origin of the Spirit-Rock............................... 252 88. The Origin of the Spirit-Rock. Second Version................. 254 V I. Sacred Stories............................................. 267 89. How Turtle Got Drunk..................................... 268 90. Turtle Wins a Race.................................... 280 91. Turtle on the W ar-Path.................................... 292 92. Raccoon and W olf........................................ 302 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts VII Page 93. Raccoon and Wolf. Second Version.......................... 322 94. Raccoon's Pranks.......................................... 338 95. Saw-Whet................................................ 350 96. Hell-Diver................................................ 358 Moccasin-Game Song....................................... 364 97. Lynx Tries to Kill a Stag................................... 364 98. A Thunderer is Captured by Underground Serpents............ 368 99. A Girl is Adopted by Thunderers and Changed into a Tree-Toad.. 378 100. A Man Visits the Thunderers................................ 384 101. The Man-Eating Sorcerer.................................. 394 102. The Evil Brother-in-Law.................................. 408 103. The Red Swan............................................ 418 104. The Rolling Skull.......................................... 428 105. The Rolling Skull. Second Version........................... 440 106. The Women of the Eastern Sky............................. 442 107. The Women of the Eastern Sky. Second Version............... 454 108. Wawapikuahsemit.......................................... 468 109. A Mother Abandons her Sons............................... 482 110. Deer Woman's Children.................................... 492 111. Two Brothers Overcome a Sorcerer.......................... 500 112. The Snake-Man............................................ 502 113. Clad-in-a-Garb-of-Raccoon-Skin............................. 516 114. The Man who Married the Moon............................. 530 115. The Man who Married a Deer-Woman........................536 116. A Boy is Blessed by Mosquitos and by a Hairy Serpent......... 554 117. A Youth Obtains Evil Medicine.............................. 560 118. A Youth Slays Spirits from which an Evil Medicine is Obtained.. 562 VII. Tales of European Origin......................................573 119. The Frog-Prince.......................................... 574 120. A Boy's Misadventure.................................... 576 121. The Miraculous Helpers................................. 580 122. Swordsman............................................... 588 PREFACE. This book presents a series of texts, recorded from dictation in the summers of 1920 and 1921, in the language of the Menomini Indians of Wisconsin. Menomini belongs to the Central division of the Algonquian family: it occupies an independent position, historically, beside Cree, the Sauk and Fox group, and the OjibwaPotawatomi group; compare Michelson in 28th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, pp. 221 et seq., 1912; see also Proceedings of the Twenty-First International Congress of Americanists, First Part, The Hague, 1924, pp. 336 et seq., and Language I, 130 et seq. The Menomini have been carefully studied in every respect except that of language. The following are the chief publications: W. J. Hoffmann, The Menominee, in 14th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1896. J. Mooney and C. Thomas, article "Menominee" in Handbook of American Indians, Bulletin 30 of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part One, 1906. S. A. Barrett, The Dream Dance of the Chippewa and Menominee Indians of Northern Wisconsin, in Bulletin of the Public Museum of the City of Milwaukee, vol. 1, pp. 251 et seq., 1910-11. A. Skinner, Social Life and Ceremonial Bundles of the Menomini Indians. Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, vol. 13, part 1. New York, 1913. A. Skinner, Associations and Ceremonies of the Menomini Indians. Same, part 2, 1915. A. Skinner and John V. Satterlee, Folklore of the Menomini Indians. Same, part 3, 1915. A. Skinner, The Menomini Word "Hdwdtuk", in Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 28, pp. 258 et seq., 1915. A. Skinner, John Valentine Satterlee, in The Wisconsin Archeologist, vol. 19, pp. 209 et seq., 1920. A. Skinner, Menomini Sketches, Recollections of an Ethnologist among the Menomini Indians. Same, vol. 20, pp. 41 et seq., 1921. A. Skinner, The Medicine Ceremony of the Menomini, Iowa, and Wahpeton Dakota. Indian Notes and Monographs of the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation, vol. 4. New York, 1920. A. Skinner, Material Culture of the Menomini. Same (no volume number). New York, 1921. H. H. Smith, Ethnobotany of the Menomini Indians, in Bulletin of the Public Museum of the Cityof Milwaukee, vol. 4, pp. 1 et seq., 1923. InMenomini there exist a few publications by the Catholic missionaries; probably all due to Father Zephyrin, who lived with the X Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Menomini in the eighties; see Pilling's Bibliography of the Algonquian Languages. The transcription is not sufficient for practical use, the language unidiomatic, at least in those which I have seen: Omdnomineu Kdchkenohamatwon Kesekoch. Katolik A namihdu Masenachigon. St. Louis, Mo.. B. Herder. 1882. Katolik Anamihan ene kd: Jesus Of Asechzekon. Kateshim as.wechzekatek. Ibid., 1887. Captain Satterlee had in his possession a card printed by P. A. Kempner. Dayton, Ohio; obverse: Bleeding heart. with inscription, Voila le Coeur qui a tant aime les hommies...; reverse: Promissiones Domini Nostri Jesu Christi factae B. Marg. M. Alacoque: Owawichtamawikwanan Jesus Christ Thpaneminal kes wawechtamawaw anino kaz Makanitan Manian Alacoque winua akiko manazichtukoa Kaz Otah Jesus... Father Blaise of St. Joseph's Mission, Keshena, kindly allowed me to read two of his manuscript works on Menomini: Dictionary of the Mdnominee Language. P. Blasius Krake O. S. F. Keshina, Wise. First Part. Menomonee-English. Same, Second Part. English-Meoll monee. Grammar of the Mlenominee Language. I did not see Father Blaise's Gospels and Epistles of Sundays and Holy Days, and his collection of some 500 sermons in Menomini, which he uses in his profession. The following Menomini gave me texts: those whose names are starred are no longer living: *Captain John V. Satterlee (mAskihk'witnenm'hseh. "Little Doctor") Joseph Satterlee Josephine (Mrs. Joseph) Satterlee Jerome Lawe (sdno6m'hseh, "Little Jerome") *Kesawatosay (kise'zAt6'hseh, "Bird-Hawk") *Michael Macoby (mise'n makapi'w) Charles Dutchman (nehtsV'wihtuk, "He who Storms at it") Louise Dutchman (mAskwawd'nahkwAtok, "Red Cloud Woman") John Awonohopay (md'sinikd'puwiw, "Stands Next", son of awi'nuh-apej' "Sits on Clouds") Wisanakwut Moseyheart (wis-d'nahkwAt, "Horned Cloud", son of mo'sihdt, "He who Senses their Coming"') Nyahto Kichewano (nayd'htow. son of ahki'tsiwanow "Flows on Top") John Neconish (d'htAniwd'kisit, "He who is Noisy there", son of nikd'nis, "Leader") *Joseph Nahwahquaw (WzAs,'9, "Nest", son of nd'wahkwdw, "Stands at Mid-Sky") John Wayka (wvd'pine'mehkiw. "White Thunderer") 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts XI Sam O'Hopasa (payd'wihsih, "He who Settles Down," son of 6hope'hseh, "Little Whooper") John Kosekaw (kd'hsikew, "Parches Things") John Kimawun (kime'wan, "Rain") John Pateesh (a Potawatomi by birth; d'puwd'hku^Am, "He Soaks it," son of paVis). Among these persons, some deserve special mention. Captain Satterlee, co-author of the book of Menomini folklore, a man of eminent charm and intellect, was for many years the mediator between his people and those who would study them. He helped me, with unfailing kindness, tb take my first steps in Menomini.l Jerome Lawe is an ideal linguistic informant; his speech in both English and Menomini is idiomatic and highly flavored. He served me as dictionary and grammar and gave me some of the best companionship I have ever enjoyed. Charles and Louise Dutchman, in whose home in the pagan settlement called Zoar or Three Rivers (si'2naw6'hnen, "It Forks") I dwelt for a number of weeks, were my chief informants and became my close and parental friends. Nehtsiwihtuk is a shaman; a man of abounding vitality and humor, yet given to philosophic speculation. Red Cloud Woman became as a mother to me, guiding my speech as one does a child's, for she has little English. Most of my texts are by informants who speak little or no English. All the Menomini whom I met showed willingness to help me in my work and treated me hospitably. The late Judge Sapatis Perrote spoke some weighty words in my favor, and Chief Ernest Oshkosh encouraged my quest. The reservation officials, especially Superintendent Edgar A. Allen, were always helpful and courteous. My friend, the late Alanson Skinner2, Curator of Anthropology in the Public Museum of Milwaukee, helped me by word and deed, but, most of all, through his'publications. These contain an account of the customs, beliefs, and material culture of the Menomini so complete that the present texts require no ethnologic commentary beyond the reference to the works of Skinner, in which the reader will find a wealth of information. The botanical indentifications are due to Smith's Ethnobotany, except for a dozen or so which I owe to the kindness of Professor Trelease of the University of Illinois. The arrangement of the texts is as follows: I, pieces dealing with everyday life, past and present; in the latter case their interest is, for the most part, purely linguistic; II, songs (nikd'muAn); III, sermons and prayers (kl'kituAn); IV, narratives (d'tsimuAn); V, and 1 Captain Satterlee has died since the writing of this. 2 Died August 1925. XII Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII VI, narratives having a mystic validity (d'tenohkAkAn), those concerning the Culture Hero, Me'napus (me'9napts, "Big Rabbit"') coming first under a separate head. The distinction between ordinary and mystic narratives is made by the Menomini, in that they often mention to which class a given story belongs; a general definition lies outside their habit. It seems to me (in this I differ from Skinner) that d'tsimuAn is applied quite generally to any narrative, whether traditional or personal. When I told the story of Gulliver and the Lilliputians, Mrs. Dutchman asked me if the latter were not human souls (mitd'2tsyAkuk), and when I explained that this was not the case, and that the story had merely been invented for pastime by a certain Englishman, her comment was, "So it is no more than a tale" (d'tsimuAn keh niw d'wiw). Inventing stories is not a Menomini way.The word a'teno'hkAkAn, on the other hand, applies to stories dealing with a far-off time when the world as we know it was in process of formation. The spirit animals enter in human or semi-human form, and the powers of the sky still dwell on earth. These stories are considered as true; they are told to inform and instruct; they often explain the origin of things, especially of plants and animals, and of customs. Even the lovable ineptitudes of Me'napus indicate by contrast the correct human way of obtaining food and the like. A similar difficulty appears in the use of the words mAnd'tow and Awd'tuk when applied to animals. The former word is used of game animals, the latter both of these and of many others, including bugs (Awd'tuke'hseh bug, uhpd'n-Awd'tukUehseh potato-bug), frogs, and mosquitos, and seems to imply their possession of the mana described by Skinner in his article on this word. The Menomini are being rapidly made over into the cultural type of the uneducated white American; of that European-American culture which, with its art and science, is worthy to stand beside their own and perhaps above it, they know nothing. They are suffering, therefore, what can be regarded only as a cultural loss, and they are fully aware of this, bearing it with a wistful resignation. The older Menomini are eloquent in their native speech, a very rich language which lends itself to elevated style and to the expressive refinements of a sensitive people. In addition, many of them are fluent in Ojibwa or Potawatomi or both. Today many Menomini children speak only the feeble English dialect, a thousand times bastardized by the standard language, which they receive from ignorant school-teachers and from the inhabitants of the surrounding countryside. The contrast is even more tragic in other respects, which lie beyond the scope of this book. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts XIII EXPLANATION OF SYMBOLS. The transcription here used deviates from the standard of the International Phonetic Association, but follows the custom of Algonquian students1. The equivalents below are very inexact: a fuller description will be given in the grammar. a as in German Mann. a long, between the vowels of father and saw. A as in nut (merely a variant of a). a long, more open than the vowel of man. e more open than in pet. e long, as in German Tee. h as in hat. i as in pit. i long, as in German wie, French vive. k as in keep, cow. m as in man. n as in man. 6 long, as in German Rose, French rose. p as in pet. s varies all the way between the initial sound of see and that of she. t as in ten. ts as ch in church. u as in put. u long, as in German Mut, French rouge. w as in we. y as in yes. 2 glottal stop, as at the beginning of German ach. stress accent on the preceding vowel. "very loud stress accent on the preceding vowel. ^ rising-falling stress and pitch on the preceding vowel. 1 Compare the following books: W. Jones, Algonquian (Fox), revised by T. Michelson, in Handbook of American Indian Languages, by F. Boas, part one. Bulletin 40 of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1911. W. Jones, Fox Texts. Publications of the American Ethnological Society, vol. 1. Leyden (Brill), 1907. W. Jones, Ojibwa Texts, edited by T. Michelson. Same, vol. 7, part one. Leyden (Brill) 1917; part two, New York (Stechert), 1919. W. Jones, Kickapoo Tales, translated by T. Michelson. Same, vol. 9. Leyden (Brill), 1915. T. Michelson, The Owl Sacred Pack of the Fox Indians. Bulletin 72 of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1921. T. Michelson, The mythical origin of the White Buffalo Dance of the Fox Indians (and other papers). 40th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1925. T. Michelson, Contributions to Fox Ethnology. Bulletin 85 of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1927. XIV Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII The different accents here given are not distinctive of wordmeaning. The unvoiced sounds, except h and 9, are lenes with loose opening (solution-lenes). The many sound-variations which the reader will discover in the texts are largely due to a complex but fairly regular system of grammatical alternations (in part peculiar to Menomini); to some extent, however, they are purely phonetic (non-significant) variations, such as rhetorical and allegro forms, which I have retained for their interest, although they do not depend on the structure of the language. The texts are here recorded as they struck my ear. Analysis shows that this record (and therefore, if I heard aright, the actual pronunciation) largely obscures the distinction between three short front-vowel phonemes, which here appear as i and e. Thanks are due to the Editor of this Series for much patient and careful help. I. EVERYDAY LIFE 1 2 2 ~Publicxation~s, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 1. HOW THE MENOMINI LIVED OF OLD. (MAskwawei'nahkwAt~lk) me~ti'kWAk- as tsipatsi'hkua2, ay~'tuh 3 8&2naw&'hkusi'tua2, mini ds-ki-pimd'hkihnitfZ'kua2. ini'2-pih me~ti'kwAn ki'w-a?,3iki"na'hlkua2; ini's tdih as pim&'hlkihs8ih inuh us,3d'hpeh, ini'? teh Ma-'waw as kiwa~tdhnitii'kua? anuh me~ti'kWAn. nah&'w, ini2-pihmisilcWAnaildi'hkun kiw-a'?sikina'tua2; ini'? tdh as lkiw-inim-1kipj'hsimatua? ini's $ tawdi'?tikc. ini2-pih misi'k sehtji'kun ki-pihtawi'hsimatua2, kAn as a-lke'2silk. ispd'miah ki-taw~'htawAk, isk6'tdw imi's as a-y6'h-sii'Iitapa' 2tik. ini'?2pih misik seht&'kun ki-p6'hkuna'tua2 s A-kiw-anahki'htsiketua. ini2-pih tdih apa'hsusu'kuman misik awdi'hsAkuman, ani'? kiwanii'hkitua2; pa p~nd'wikin ani? misik isku'Ahtemih kiw-alkana'tua?, anu~h apdhs3usu'kuman, isk-U'Ahtem as kiw-a'wilc. 1ci-kNsaw&'?tewin inih W~'kiwAm. pip~n di'hkuah k-i-mnt'hnuw-i'WAkin as Nwswa'pitua2. ta?, k-A'n tdh wi'nalh uk6s-ki'sawahinuw&'wan. m5'sah unft ki'hsahki 'sinan ki-p6?s&'hkamuk; kAn kd'k~h UWi'Askake'n?4uuawan. m5'sah nisi'k niw i 'ni? pd'hsusauku'man kay ~s-p08sd'hkcawatua?, w&'pus8u'kuman. ind'niwVAk tsi-ki-wi 'Askake'wAkc s ki-pahpi'situa?. ini'?-kdih-nikvuh kdt'hkinaman kay~8-n5'htaWAk n6'hk-umeh. ini'?. 2. HOW THE MENOMINJ MARRIED. (MA-skwawd-'nahkwAt~k-) ta~,as uki'?s5wawan as ki's3ikiha'tua?, misi'k wi'nuta ap aki'm d'neh as ki'sikih&'tua? utdi'n~wawan, ini'2-pih iad'waw kdi'k~h s ni/di'tsihatua?. nahM'w, wina'h nap pdihni'hseh s nikd'tsihih s nitil-,we?tAt, kUsi'n s ne?takdt'hkit, nii'?s inu,'h nikut We' YAwe'keh ki-pi'win as ki-pis-nit6tsiket anuh apdthni'hsAn. Init62 v's5am-m&'?nawinawaw kitapehn-'hsimuwaw, n'p as pas kan#?i'wihatsin anuh nitdh1kPsj'hsemi'nawan. ini'? pis-y~h-isi'yen.' 'nah&'w!' kiw-9wd'kin akuh kitski'WAk; Wa? kehk9'nawewvAk winu,'a? ap anuh ki?8j'h8An as neh~'h-anuhlkVitn. ini'? kdih as ki-paki'tinatua? anuh 8k0'?s5wawan as wakimiwd'nit. nah&"w, ini'?-pih misi'k winu'a? ap akuh &'neh kitski'WAk kiwusi'?tatua? ind'waw kd'ke5h, py3?s8'hkakanan, m~tsimn i'hseh, apdihsu,su 'kuman as ki-mii'wats8i'htuku~a?. me?si'h ayd'wikin, ini'-pih kiWawjh-ntfttsike'tu~a? anu~h ki?8j'hSAn. ta'?, ki-m~nd'WAk. kay&~-pina-tu'awin ani'nuh ki?s3j'hsAn, naw~',naw ini'?-pih ki-yahmi'simjhseh, pdhsusu'kuman as kiw-awleh-mi'nihtua? alcuh kitski'-?('Ak. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 3 1. HOW THE MENOMINI LIVED OF OLD. (Maskwawanahkwatok.) Where two trees stood upright, both of them being forked, there they would lay the beam. Then they would gather up sticks, and where that beam lay crosswise, there they would lean against it all those sticks. Thereupon they would gather bark, and they would place it along over the openings wherever there was a gap in the surface. Then they would put on also branches of needle-trees, laying them so as to overlap, to keep out the cold. At the top they would leave a hole through which the smoke of the fire was to go out. Then they would break branches of needle trees for a floor-covering. And the skins of deer and bear they used for rugs; in winter they would hang them also in the doorway, those deer-skins, to serve as a door. A house of that kind would be warm, it is said. All winter they used to be comfortable and warm as they dwelt here. For, you must know, they did not wear warm clothing. They wore only leather-moccasins; they did not wrap anything round their legs and feet. They wore only this: deer-skins and rabbit-skins. The men must have been in the habit of wrapping something round their feet when they hunted. This, then, is what I know, having heard it from my grandmother. That is all. 2. HOW THE MENOMINI MARRIED. (Maskwawanahkwatok.) Now, when some people had brought their son to manhood, and some others in the same way had brought up their daughter, then they taught them all manner of things. Now then, when the lad was taught to hunt, if he turned out a good slayer of game, then one or another old woman would come to ask for that lad. "I very much admire your boy; might he not well marry that girl of ours? It is for this I have come." "Very well!" those old folks would say, for they, for their part, knew that that girl was a good worker. So then they would give consent for their son to be married. Thereupon these old people in their turn, would make preparations, gathering together all kinds of things, garments, food, deerskins. When there was much of it, they would go to ask for the girl. She was given to them. When they had brought home the girl, then after a while they would take her back; and this was when they would take along all those things, food and deer-skins, taking them to give to the girl's parents. 1* 4 4 ~~Publications. American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII nah&'w, ini'2-pih 1ki-pis-yah-kiwdi'tua2. ini'2-pih inuh miti'muh ki-kdI'2t8-an~uhciI't as ki-MAna'hnet, ni~pj'w as ki-nd'tik, as ki-tsipfihkit, apei'hsusu'kuman as kiw-useha'ts8in, - kayfts-kisiha'tsinin, ini'2-pih p62sti'hlcakanan kiwv-usg'htuk, - tahnd'nu.h ndi'hkah mis8i'k as kisak&'slcahah umiihkesinu'wawan us VYnehs~n, uti' nrniAMAn, w v 'nimun, usdk~ihsdi'hs3An, mu'wa niw as ki-sakd 'skahe'2natsin. wina'h na p_ inuh ina'niw tahndi'nuh kj'sikAt as ki-pahp#~'8it, hdw, ini2-pih inulh mitdi'muh maz'wa niw ki-mitsimdi'hkatah inih m~'tsim,'hseh as kiwinis-sakd'hkinah,. utdnawima'kanan as kwmm#n'snm~sm~ hseh. ini'2-kdh-niku~h kd'hkinaman, d'si0tAt maw'2numinEwt' as kand'wihetit. 3. THE PUBERTY-FAST. (John V. Satterlee,),wa'2naw ahkA'nuh nima'm~dh-indinyA'minawak, kii'yes3-mma'ts8i2 -tawAk, kg's-pis-awd'tukewAk, awa'tukAn as sawei'nimikutua2, as k98-nii'tamakcutua2. ini'2 tdh kay9's-,pis-is'htsiket:- kZ8-mes&VhkAtewdw as kutldki'nihtami'he'8it. 1CAn kai'k~h ukJ'8s-m~j'tsinan;- 1CAn mmn kdi'k~h uke-,8-mindi'nan. unZ'kihj'kumawak ke-s-misii'hkAtewdha'wAk unitsi'Anehauwa'wan as a-wi'hkihtunik aw-inim-y6h-mArdi'tsi~tawinit. ini'2 a-kgs-ig-sawdi'nimik6'wesitinuh md'sahkAtii'wdt; ini'2 tdh ayii'wik, as a-k es-MAsa'pahtah misik teh napd'n as minu,'Apahtah;, ini'? wayi'khihtuk ayum, md'sahk-Atdwdt't, ki'spin ani'nuh awa'tukAn as pdi'ts-nii'taMA'kut. ini'2 tdi'h wii'h pdimd'tesit wdih-pi"'etit as waya~hku'Askah updmin'tesin. as mesd'hkAtewdit as wd'pi~tat, uww'hiwmaw irni'sinam6'wew ut&na'kan as o6nd'skinek m~'tsim, misi'k tdih mahkd'hsiW. ini'2 tah wd'skih-mesd'hkAtewdt as undi'pahtah ta? kd'taw-isi'hisit. ini'? tdih,ayu,'m, ini's as minu'Apahtah, uta'hpenAM mahka'hsiw as wd~sZ'h~tuk qiskg'hsik, as a-mn4'hnu-ts3j'2napumi'kut Mai-'wa niw awa'tulkAn spd'miah ayi'nit mis8ik tsi'kahkyah pg'htaw&'hkamikatuh. ini'? tdih nisik a's-nAtawa'nihtah wdi'skih-me~sai'khAtewd'tsin as aw-minu'Apahtah, usC~wd'nimikc6'Wisewin as a-m,'neh, as a-wi-'khihtu'asit. kd'?tin tih aku'm y5'm kayZs-pd't8-is8'htsiketva? n6'ma k4 kjs-pd'pematesi'WAk kikg'h-utdydi'nehk~w-5hsghs3d'hs5wawan. y5'h-pih tdh sa?ye'h niw kAn kii'k~h y~m, 8a?ydi'h ini-m-ma'?s u~nZ'?-wAn~'hnen. WAya'fpisliwctt m6'hkumdi'n tdh i'8ehkAm as wanii'htsiwZ'htulk; ini'? tdih niw mi'n niw m&'wa ni kei'k~h as mnayalki'nihtAku~ah. ini'?,-tdh-nikuh Mei'tsim~eni'htAMAn; Wdi'h teh as a'tdtamAn as aw-kehki'ndku'Atah kayg's-pis-ii'yisiki'makah, wi'nah akhka'nuh. ayu'm, tdh as meeef'hkAte'wdt as k9s-waya,'simikut mnAtsV'?-and'mahkyAh-awd'tulcAn, imi'? as kV'S-MAS4-'pahtah; as kH's-tdh-pim~ 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 5 Then they would go home again. Then that young wife would work very hard, gathering fire-wood, fetching water, cooking, preparing deerskins,- when she had finished them, she would make garments, - and in the evening patching their moccasins, mending them for her father-in-law, her husband, her husband's brothers, and her mother-in-law. And as the young husband, for his part, kept hunting every day, the woman would preserve all that meat and store it away, so that she could always give meat to her family. This, then, is what I know of the Menomini's way of giving and taking in marriage. 3. THE PUBERTY-FAST. (John V. Satterlee).,Long ago in the ancient time our ancestors, the Indians of old, used to have supernatural power, for the spirits took pity on them and blessed them, giving them their help. This was the rite they always performed: they fasted, afflicting their own souls. They ate nothing and drank nothing. Parents made their children fast so that they might therefrom gain a continuance of mortal life. This was what the faster was to get as a blessing from the spirits; this was the thing: he was to see an evil vision or else to see a good vision; this was what the faster gained, if he was really helped by the spirits. And it was through this that a person succeeded in prolonging and assuring his life. At the beginning of the fast the father of the family handed him a bowl filled with food, and some charcoal. And then the one who was performing the puberty-fast chose what he wanted to do for himself. Well then, - if he had a good foreboding, he took the charcoal and painted his face, that he might be favorably observed by all the spirits that dwell above, as well as those underneath, inside the earth. And this alone was what he desired, whoever performed the puberty-fast, that he might see a good vision, that he might be given a supernatural blessing, having earned it for himself. And as a matter of fact, those who properly performed this rite lived quite a while, as did also their descendants down to their great-grandchildren. Today, however, this custom no longer exists: it has by this time entirely sunk into disuse. The white-skinned American has headed it off and disturbed it; likewise, in fact, all things are now of strange seeming. But so much I remember: and the reason I tell of it is that it may be known to people, how things used to be in the olden time. If this person in his fast was deceived by an evil underground spirit, that was when he saw an evil vision, and if he accepted it, 6 6Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII n3' tah, ini'? Ptdh wd,'h wvinah 'na'p as mats~'kit, kAt as wie'ske-sit, kit as m'i'hnuh-pemdi'tesit. ini'? kaygs-pd,'2ts-wlthkihtui'asit. us,8H'h-pdim5'tesit as wd'pahkAtd'Wdt kdt'?tin pV1'nAt w~'yaw, ini's, as ndi'kwah mahlk&'hsiw as was~/hit. ini? tiih wdh-wi'hkihtuk as pawa'tsiket, ini's /CAf kdi'k~h as p~'htek UMdi'2nAtih. ayu,'m tdh uw5'hnemaw as us W?tahnA'tsin unitsi'A,-,neh8An as md'k-rnesd'hkAteWd'nit. nani'hlats n~w ka'kutsi'munew ta? kay&s-ind'pahtamenik. 1kispi'wa inuh mdtsahkAitd'wdt d'tsirnit as mas&d'pahtah4, ini'9 tOh tsi'yawu. w6'hnimaw as ind'tsin uki'2sMn as aw-mbi'tsihsinit. mi'i? tdh wvdh-is J'2tAt as aw-d' nawinamenik inih md'teh pawd'tikAn.. nah~tw, 'umA'nAk PtdhIA'pafl, ayu'rn uskTj'h-mes&'hAcAte'W.diW ki/spill minu 'Apahtah, wayi'Askesinit awdt'tukcAn as kAitd'wv-8avd'nim jkut, ini'?-pih Ptdh uw'hnernaw dtnd'tsin ani'n'ah juki'2sMn as awi-miitit?!-niw~ s a-mesa'hkAteWd'nit, inih y6'h aniwv tahn6'kun as aw-piAitd'nit. ini'2 Ptdh wdih-wi'hkihtuk- as a-s65'hkihneh inih wvay~'skiwah, inih mayii'kinii'pahtah qtsdiwvt'nimik'-WAn. /c-uta,'?nA8 pj,'nahkcami'katuh as usi'htuah wWc'hseh. ini', Ptdh inuk? ma,'sahkAtd-'widt as #7/yit, s&'-sehk~hsih as ntdwd'nihtah as mdk-mesd'hkAtewdt as kAta'w-mninu,'A,-pahtah. ini'? Oih mte.?8ih tahn6'kun as Pii'pahtuk. ini'? Ptdh ahk6'?sik as n~'wahkcundt, mnisi'k Ptdh as pi'hkapiiikit ahk6 '?sik. naw~'naw usdi'm as pi'hkapid'kit, ini'2 nay-a'tamakcu mesii'peh as akUAna-'htenih kAt s aw-usd'rn-pa'?teke u-tt'naniwv u/c&'b ta/cAn. ini'? Pih k&-,'na~w wdh-wi'hkihtuk as Pii'pahftnk me~sih tahn5'lcun. a neh met&'tahnukiorn misi'k- Pth d'neh meittah flyd'flAfl-c& tahm6'kun. inuh i'nih i8'Ckiw, mu~'? k-u~yj'k kay~'s-pyAtdtt a-s mesd'hk~tewtdt. nahi'w, lkispi'n Ptdh m4'8ahkAitd'Wit pd'2tS wayj'nah and'hkit' mmn ni'w ahkj'w way6'nahkAmikI'?neh2, k"An nanad's uw,-'hkihtunAn awd,'tukAn a-s aw-sawa'nimikut. 4. THE HUNTER'S TREAT. (John V. Satterlee) ayu,'m mmn ni'w MAMa'tsi?taw umd'?numin~w itsnit'tesin, kiwWipuku'ahet~w. wd'h-tiih-isF'?tAt i'nih, Mi' niw mayj'nik~w4'wisit utdnii'tesiwin. ki'spin kAt i'nih isW'?At, nehkg'?taw; ini'? Ptdh ds-n&'kuah, kAn indi'niw utd'winAn misi'k Ptdh as pia'sitsit. ini'h tdh as81-5? tah sasdi'hk~w. mi'i? Ptah wd'h as kiw-a-'pnlcu'ahitit, msi'c Ptdh nehU'hmi'nitit kei'k~h d'htAnii'hkin. ini'? mni'? tdh d'si?tAt: inuh pii'hpisit ani'nuh wayi'tsi'Akut ki'spin as3 ne'?tAkiit apdt'hswsun awa-'hsAn k6'naw) wd?s~'h-niw-MAnd6wWAn, '1Verb supplied by me. 2 If correctly noted, a most unusual word, meaning "tbat which is a dirty place by being wet". 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 7 that was then the reason why he would turn bad, be of evil character, and not lead a good life. This was what he had by mischance gained for himself. When a young person began to fast, his body was really clean, as was symbolized by his painting his face with charcoal. And this was why he was able to see a vision, because there was nothing in his stomach. The father, when he arranged his child's fast, would ask him from time to time what sort of vision he had seen. If the faster related an evil vision, then the father would needs tell his son to eat. He did this so that the latter should reject that bad dream. Now, on the other hand, if this puberty-faster saw a proper vision, because a good spirit was disposed to bless him, then the father would tell his son to keep on fasting, so that he might reach a greater number of days. In this way he was able to bring it about that that good thing was firmly placed, that blessing which he was seeing in dreams. This puberty-faster would do this; this was the way he was made to do: somewhere on clean ground a little hut was built for him. There that faster would stay, lying there and desiring as he fasted to see a good vision. In that way he would endure a large number of days. Then finally he would burn with hunger and be parched with thirst. After a while, when he became too thirsty, he was helped by being made to put a piece of lead into his mouth, so that his tongue and throat would not be too dry. This was, along with other things, a reason why he was able to endure many days; some (fasters) ten days and some fifteen days. A person like this was one who properly and in all form succeeded in making the fast. If, however, a faster by mishap set foot on something dirty or on the ground where it had been defiled, then he was not for a long time able to be blessed by the spirits. 4. THE HUNTER'S TREAT. (John V. Satterlee) This Menomini Indian has also this custom, that he gives reciprocal treats. And the reason he does so is: this very thing he was given by the guiding powers as his custom. If he does not do this, he offends, and it appears that he is not a real man, and that he is stingy. Fearing this, he makes a tabu. This then is why he gives reciprocal treats and likes to exchange gifts whenever he has anything. That is the way it is. And this is what he does; A man who is hunting, if he makes a killing of deer, bear, or any kind of game-animal, gives a treat to the 8 8Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ni'? 2 as -'pukuAhd'tsin; ini'2, as &'puku'ahiwet, as aw-mini'nih-takcuah iiyZ'tuh niw, inuh MAnti't~w mdi-mdi'wa niw as a-m6'h. ini? d'sihtsi'idit ayum md~'2numin~w. yo5'hpiih tdh urn&'9nuh neZ' ni niw yd'hpi't8 Aiw wanZ'hnen; kAn Utd'si0tanAn i'nih, usd'rn m4'2s-wAng'hsin'uk m~AnaoWwAk. ini'? niw ayei'wilk d'si?tAt ayum MAMa'tsi~taw: ni's ina'niwAk as pii'sihe'titua? as nAtoha'tua2, - nAmd'WAn flO'tsihe'wA1C, - a~yu'm nilcut inei'niw kii'htsi~s~w; piMi'AtaW inih 6's; ayu tdh ni'lkut mind'?tamikci'puwe-w as kAtdi'w-pase'pahatsin n~ma'w~n. as mdi'k-pimi'tsime'tua2 mni'? as miyd'witsimiind'tua2 nAma'wAn. inuk tdh naydi'2ta-,mkdi'puwit pasZ'pahew n~mct'W~n as ne?nA'tsin; p5'8ihew inis me~tik6'neh. inj'? tdh di'ts as a'pukuaha'tsin w~'matAn pd'mahu'nikut. jini tdh nayd'nikcutu~hkin d'sihneh a'puku'AhituAn as aw —yii'pehta~w-mAmd'lcua?. md'mik s5'h apdi'hsusun ne~nA'tin, as d'pulku'ah&wiet wi'nah mAmd'w d'pehtaw ani'nuh apd'hsusun; ini'? ftih: apa'hszf1-.su'kum, we s, utd'niAn, upu'AM, e'sikAfl as a-'wik. ini'2 a1'sihmeh inih ii'puku'ahituan. ini'? 5. MEDICINAL HERBS. (John V. Satterlee) na 8~i'8i-mg'nikut awd'tukAn. misi'lk tdh und'hlc~dhia en' pus wism' kAy&s-m9'nih AnU'MmAskVIhkiwAn utsipehlckAn, kAkcshlcih a 8snalku'ahlkin, as ihpii'kwahlkin. ini'? teh a'teh as m~nd'tMin, mahmdVwaw manud'ts8i~ta'WAk as aw-ii'kua? Icahpih wayeg'2saqes9itu'awin,, inih s a-Ic9-y5'h-ma-'hnuw-i'tua2. ini'? tiih mamii'tsitaw m~skihlVuwineniw as Ikehkcg'nah as aw-5'Ic anUW MAsk~'hkiwAn as inani'VAiwet. y5'm tek ahkcg'w lcit6w6'hkumd'hsi2 marna'WA niw;- ii'? tdh as sii'kikdi'hkin arnum utei'pehkAn a-ki'w-5k ayutm mam&'tsi~taw. ayum mamii'tei~taw indni'htsikew ini'2 WisiOtW: awgh-m5'naham utsi'pehlkAnMAskz'hkiwAn. imi'? tdh:- nd'?tAm saldi'2sAtAm; nildi'muhtaw as paldkinah as aw-unu'AskAkin as 5'lk as nanhi'taw9'htsikcet. pehtiiwa-i'W8iw t4h; inani' hdw tiih ani'nuh ndnd'tawihM'tsin. ini'? kay98-u9'hnitu'kua? mamd'humd'hso3mei'hsimawak. kd'?tin teh ni'w k&_-pd'ts-ise'kiMAkAt as pd'ts6k aya'm wmam'tsi~taw. 6. WILD GINGER. (John V. Satterlee) nahd'w, ayu' tdh ninaw-di'tsimaw, - y&' tdh utei'peh ninaw-a'ItutAn kaye-`8-pake'tinikdi'tdkI, ma'ts-awd'tulk as pi'tsikcehtuk, mAma-'18i?taw wdfwd'waha'kdt as aw-ini'm-ay6'lc ihpil& wayg'?8akesRitan. ay6'? tdk aydii WutAi'peh, ma't8-mAsk$'hlkiw; nAmnt'hpin is8-w6'htsikA't4'.w. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts.} 9 man who is accompanying him; this is when he gives a treat, so that there shall be good feeling on both sides, and that the animal shall be entirely eaten. Thus is the ritual custom of the Menomini. But nowadays latterly it is entirely lost; he does not do this thing, too entirely have the game-animals been lost, even to extermination. This is the way this Indian does: When two men embark together to spear fish, - sturgeon they are hunting, - the one man does the poling; he propels the canoe; and the other stands at the bow, to spear the sturgeon. As they canoe along, that is when they come upon the sturgeon. The man who stands at the front spears the sturgeon and kills it and places it in the dug-out. And he says that he is treating his friend who is propelling him on the water. Sometimes the treat takes the form of their sharing it half and half. Especially if one kills a deer, in giving the treat he takes half of that deer; namely: the deerskin, the head, a fore quarter, and a hind quarter, that is, one side. That is the way of reciprocal treating. That is all. 5. MEDICINAL HERBS. (John V. Satterlee) The way of the Indian in the past, and his custom was this, that he did things even as the spirit powers gave it him to do. And it was that nephew of us all, Me'napus who first was given these herbs and roots, in all their various forms and as they taste. Then he in turn gave them on, that all the Indians might use them whenever they were ill, and grow well from this use of them. And as the Indian doctor knows it, is to use these herbs in curing people. Now this earth is the grandmother of us all; and it is from her that these roots spring forth which this Indian is to use. This is the way the Indian curer does: he goes and digs up roots and herbs. And this: he first makes an offering of tobacco to them; he sings to them as he picks them, that they may act effectively when he uses them in doctoring. His prayer is heard; he cures those whom he treats. Thus did the great fathers above prepare and plan it. And in all truth it did work with success when this Indian made correct use of it. 6. WILD GINGER. (John V. Satterlee) Well, I shall tell of this (animate) thing, - or rather, of this its root I shall tell, which was set down as a gift, the Great Spirit causing it to grow, that the brown-skinned Indian might use it through the course of time whenever he was ill. It is the root of this plant, a great medicine; Wild Ginger1 (Fish-Root), so it is called. 1 Asarum canadense. 10 10Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nilcu't tdh kispi'n as w~'?sake'sit, kAn uk~w-wi'hkihtvunan me~si'h as pas mi'tsihsit, us&'m as w~'2sakce'sit. lci'spin nits8i'Akah as mi'tsihsit, 1kiw-kj'hp~w. ay' tiih nAML'hpifl inW' as 6'tsilkasit: wayZ'2sakce'sit a's IkAtaw-m~'sihsit. an6'2 tOh ni'?tAmA md'nawats taydi'panema'tsin. sd'?saku'AMdwU, p g'2AMeV as k6 -'hnAts8in, mind.'2tm C'hkAtsikAn as a winit. ini'2, ini'2-pih tdih mayi'tsihsit inzeh ma ya'k-wET'2sake'sit, inih-pih tdh k"An 5-ki'hpinAn. ini'9 tdh w~th-na7'tam 6,d'w4'wisit w"ipa'ts ni~w as a-ydi'hpits-indi'nit. misi'k tOh ayu,'m nAmi'hpiw, 'md'ts-MASlcihki a' as ji',wit. ic,jwIc-,iki.'nuah&',skinaw lctkayd'nit MAsk-i'hlciah as indni'htsilkeh. ayuif'm nAmi!'h pin as o'tsilk'sit: nawd'ts alki'htsin wd'htik kasi'Asku,fi'2tek- nipi'w. kayjs-nehkdpa'wdt, ini'2-pih ayum wj,'2sakesiw md'nahih. ini'2 tdh md'hnuh-it. &l'neh Oih wi'nah siW -SJ'2SAkwAMd'wAk as utsi'pehkU'winit. ayum nAmi'hpin ini'2-n~h sayd'kikit as mi'hkikit wi'2niydi'hkihJkiah utdk&'mnehkatuh. ayum tAMt'hpin as si 'kWAn&'wik pin&'wiw, kAn tdh s6'h api'ts as a-wi'Aslkesit: kahn~'w as nim-takUA10o'wik, ini'2 -pikb tiih mm pr5'ts nid'yawvats e-T'htsik-atd'kin utsi 'pehlkin `MAskt'hkiwVAn, kay~'s —y,,i'h~pitsql-k~'sikdi'hkini. 7. SWEET FLAG. (John V. Satterlee) wi'hkeh utsi'peh MAski'hlciw wi'nah ap vi'wiw. Wut'y.,,k as akcj'kuh, as lcipd'skAlk ukc'htalcan., as uhna'2numit, ini'2 inuh wvi'hlceh md~'nawats as kiw-alkUAnd'mih, inuh misd'hkumn as ko6'hnih; ini'2 as mci'hnmuw-it. rnisi'k J'neh dwci'tua2 sa'2sqakuAmvi'wt~. wd~'hts8itA' tdih we'2sajcen ayum wi'hleh. ini'2-nuh teh wi'nah ap as kU-tas~'Iit tsi'kisi'tim sipi'ahsihsih. mama'tsi0taw ki-m5'nahew. kis3j'?nimew,. kei'lehpindw, ak6'ndw as pdi'2svatsin; ini'9 tdih s md.'hn~w-Ikan&'wvih8. THE PRICKLY ASH. (John V. Satterlee) mamd~'tsi~taw~ ki'8pin as pii'hsisit, kiw-alcu'ahpis~w rnAskihlciWAn utsi'pehlcAn lcdlcayenit d'8i8-k&'kehkinah ayum ndna't~awe-htsiket. sisinit umnt'h, ini'? arn'wAn dwd'ts8in, sa?suma'tssikAn as kiw-ak6'Ptik, kaw&'"hkumiah 4'sis-w6'htsikasit. Idisk&'hlcuhew as WAnc$Ica/hkowinit,; ahkdi'hluh uhsii'm inih kdkdcskdi'hkuh~kan. ini'?-pih tdh taya-'tsiIcaha'tsin anim wayt~'?sakweinit ini's as pri'hsesinit. ini'?-pih a'kwakpinei'tsin; inih kds3kd'hkuIhikd'tdw; Utih'pahpitdw. ini'?-pih aya-'yahki'nituk as mdk-kisi'AskupV?tilc inih md'slci'hlciwilk ni'pew. mis8i'k 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 11 If a person is ill, he cannot eat much, because he is too ill. If he nevertheless insists upon eating, he suffers from indigestion. And that is where this wild ginger has its use: when the patient is about to eat, he first takes into his mouth a little of it. He chews it, he breaks it up fine in his mouth and swallows it, and it serves as a road-maker. Then that patient eats, and then he no longer suffers from indigestion. And through this he receives help so that in a short time he will become entirely well. Moreover, this wild ginger, being a great medicine, is put in as an ingredient herb with various medicines in healing. As to the way this wild ginger is used: first it soaks in boiling hot water. When it is dissolved, then this patient is given it (the water) to drink. And then he gets well. But some people simply chew the root-part of it. This wild ginger grows and is found in hard-wood land on moist ground. This wild ginger grows plentifully in spring, but it is then not yet good: later on, when autumn comes along, then its roots and herbs are really in proper shape for gathering, when they are entirely mature. 7. SWEET FLAG. (John V. Satterlee) The root of the sweet flag1 too is a medicine. If anyone has a cold, and his throat is obstructed, and he coughs, then a bit of that sweet flag is taken into the mouth and the saliva swallowed; then that person gets well. Others who use it, chew it up. Very bitter is this sweet flag. Where it grows is on the banks of creeks. The Indian digs it up, washes it, ties it up, and hangs it to dry; that is the proper way to keep it. 8. THE PRICKLY ASH. (John V. Satterlee) When an Indian has a swelling, he makes a poultice of herbs and roots of various kinds, according to the knowledge of the doctor. One thing that doctor does is this: if his patient has a swollen arm, then he uses the prickly ash2 on which the prickly ash berries grow. He scrapes the bark of it; he boils those scrapings in a kettle. Then he makes an incision with the flint knife into the sick person's swelling. Then he poultices him with that scraped stuff; it is tied in the form of a bandage. Then he keeps wetting it with the hot infusion. When he renews the bandage, on each successive morning 1 Acorus calamus. 2 Zanthoxylum americanum; literally, "rough-wood tree or bush". 1 2 12Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xii as d'wi'k as ycd'tahpisit, wa'jxsh mi'p ayd'wikcin, jni'2, niw misi'lk niw a'slitAt as aku'ahpina'tsin as diyahkVi'2nituwa'ts8in ini's as tas~'htcan&'maminit. ini'2-pih tsayj'2nihsih. ne~ni'nuh ni'winuh as ise'?tAt, ini'2 yd&'hpits3 as md'hnuw-it. 9. THE CUP-PLANT. (mA-skwawd'nahkwAtdk) aya'y~isawd'8kah. mitei'muh Sika'nah as ni pad'k, unitsi'AnehsAn s nadwn't8in, as mi'ndkI, piw'tesiw. unttsi'AnehsAn as uhtd'tes8init, ini'2-pih tehUA udku as n~hak'8kcAk; ini'? as kAta'w-nifpa-k; ini'2-pi'h teh as mi'ndk; mni? mdi'waw as mdtsi'skAlk umdff'hlkum kayg's-mina~k. mAski'1&kiwv. 10. A FEW HERBS AND THEIR USES. (MAskwawd'nalhkwAt6k) ayii'pdw we wvin d'sinakwah. MAski'Ihkiw a-'wiw. m9'tsin as kAtawpahp~'sit. kin6si'2sika'pAwih. as ujsi'pehkiwit wi yAk as mind'k ki-mii'hnuw-iw as ki-s8i'pulhkawd'wisit. utatsi'AIhkuhpe~n. wi yAk as pe?ta'IhUsit as uts8i'peIhkiwik kiw-a'nein. kiw-akcu'AIhpi86w. kay&s-kZ'sitekin inil& ni~pg'w, ini'? niw as kiwaipuwg'?nituI& inih utii'kvalpiswAn. m'i? niw as kiw-ind4'nit as ki-m4d'hnu~w-iU. fpa'sikU'kA~s$w as Me'tSik s utsi'pehkiwik kiw-unii'k~w. pdpVtsikawiw. Ata'IhsikAn a'wiw; nipi'AskUn s Ata'hsAmeh, kiwund't. utsi'peh. wapano'wAs8. mAski'hkiu' ki'spin wayi'nusit Wj'8kiwAt. 11. A MEDICINE. (MAskwawx'nahkwAt~k) ii'pi89'1&tikan, mAskci'kkiw:- wi'y.&k as3 utapd'w~it ki-mi'nuak. rmd~WAtu t41pekkAu; miffi'tM a9te'wAu as8 pa'?sAmeh. nami'Apin wi'nah ap y6'? as apgt;, kiuwi'hkumiah-wAnii'kah y6'? as apg't, - m~'a niw ked'k~5h, n6mi'kanawcw, titi'Apitsipeh, mA87cK'kwms, ap4'Asu8 uhta'wAk a'8inalcwah utsipel&, ma'AkwAnaka'Akwak. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 18 he does the same thing, bandaging him and wetting the bandage at the site of the pain. Then that person is relieved. When he has done this way three or four times, then he gets entirely well. 9. THE CUP-PLANT.' (Maskwawanahkwatok) When a woman is nearly dying in childbirth, if she drinks it, she lives. When her child is born, then her blood stops; that is when she is about to die; then she drinks of it (of the infusion of the cupplant); then all her blood starts moving again, when she has drunk of it. A medicine.2 10. A FEW HERBS AND THEIR USES. (Maskwawanahkwatok). Maidenhair fern (Adiantum pedatum; literally: "That which looks like a stag's horn"). It is a medicine. One eats of it when one is going hunting.3 Willow (Salix, probably glaucophylla). If one drinks the infusion of the root, one will recover from diarrhea. Sarsaparilla (Afalia nudicaulis; literally: "crane-potato"). When someone has cut himself, the root part of it is boiled. He is bandaged. When the water has boiled, the bandage is soaked in it. Then he is cured and gets well. If a horse eats the roots, it gets fat. Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis; literally: "Keeps flowing forth"). It is a dye; whenrushes are dyed with it, the effect is pretty. The root is used. Spikenard (Aralia racemosa; literally: "Morning Star Herb"). It is a herb-medicine good for burns. 11. A MEDICINE. (Maskwawanahkwatok) "Reviver" (this is called), a medicine: if someone has convulsions, he drinks it. It contains many roots; there are ten of them ground up in it. Wild ginger4 is in it; prickly-ash5 bark is in it, - all kinds of things, fern,6 sweet coltsfoot7, swamp valerian8, the root of deer'sear9, sassafras. 1 Silphium perfoliatum (Literally: "That which goes square"). 2 It also cures paralysis of the legs. 3 It makes the whistle carry farther and better resemble a fawn's call. 4 Asarum canadense. 6 Zanthoxylum americanum. 6 Name apparently of all ferns except maidenhair. 7 Petasites palmatus; also Virginia waterleaf, Hydrophyllum virginianum. 8 Valeriana uliginosa. 9 Unidentified. 14 14 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 12. BLUE-EYED GRASS. (John V. Satterlee) 1inU&'pikWA8 Ma't8-MAski'hkiw JI'witv, as asj'1kanj'hz~iwik misi'k teh as utsi'pehkc~wikI. ki1'nwahdskitsikan teh d'wiw. ayu,'m mam&'t~sstaw a sis-ii'y~l, ini'm d'sis-k&'kehlcinah: ki'spin WiyAk inii'niw metdi'muh sa'?2saku,'ahtah ut&nih, k,,diw-m-atii'pitew, as ndnis&'nesit; Ikispin 8akM'p~wet, mni? ni'uw 1i-y~h-nZ'kiskah. ha? Idi'h, kinut'piku.As as ii'wik, ini'? tdh wdi'h,-MAtdh. ki'8pin kipdi'siku'kASiAm ahsdi'MAt yo-m kinii'pikUAS, dydi'pdw as d'wit,- mayikfi'hkitsin, sdi'kipUAtSin w E'tsayapa'lWAn, kAn pas 5td' nininan aynm pa"i'siku,'kAs3i1. kH'spin &'pist'htsikAn nLisi'k ta'ndh. 13. POISON IVY. (John V. Satterlee) IAAta'sku~n ds-wd'pahkin, kAn wej'8k-iwA'tun. kispi'n pd~ts-pd'hsehkA'MAn, kispi'n pdi'?ts-pdi'hsehk',A'tsikAtdkc. 1cw-,umdi'1kn as n~'kiskcah as kis~pisih; ki-pdi'hsisin; kini's t~ih kiw-Ct'wiw; kAn nanei' IW iyAk u1fkiw-po'nihi'kunan. ndi'nikut teh WVi'yAlk as MAtsno'kdt, inu'? k-iwn~ts-pii'suskAkut. kayd'nisiWAk tdh d'neh pdma'tesitua? as pd'hsehkAk~a?, iCAn kAtd'w ukiw-is'kinuwC1'wan; aki'? td way~'skiwin5 -kd'tua?. aku'm kAn ukjw-patd'hkiskAkunuavd'WAn y6'm inilh di'tamneh m at& V's. 14. HOW TO STOP HICCOUGHS. (MAskwaw&d'nahkwAt~k) ki'spin wyAk kAt as piini'tah s unu'awdt., ini?-pih i'nuh nikut ki-ki'kitit s ld~t8-nehk5'sit s kWkitu'tawatsin anuh unuawd'WAn: 'kine'sa? k-ayjs-kim5'temi yen inih nisfinyA'nem! wdt'wahte? teh 1kip4'pim-ndne-'puwim s kjs-kdi9ts-kim5'teni yen ini'h nisutnyA'nem!' ini'?, kiqv-in~'h wiyAk as kiw-unn'awdt; ki-nehtsi'wimaw as ki-tsiyii'?stmih. 15. RHE UMA TISM. (Jo/tn V. Satterlee) naliii'w, na'sgAp niw kit&'tsimi'?tun ad'sis-san&'kah ki'8pin WiyAk nnd'?niknwin as ta'nah we-'y~h. ini'?-nnh nd'hih-a?tek as jxi'pisai' 2 -tAkAnah. nah&'w, mi'i? teh ni'nah had'siki'yen; AnuU'm nihtii'hk-WAnAn neskd'n ni kAn nipi'kinun. nei'nikntu'hkin tdh ni-lkiw-wV?sakama'mim. sisiipi'niswAn kispin as weskiwah, kd~'?tin nai'nikutu'hkin kZy,5h-md'hnuw-in. hi ni pa'? tdh sd'paw as ap-nato'tamo'WAk nima'skih1ki'wininyA'minaw inih mah-nui'wawv tsil-w~'skiwah. kAn teh ntd'htAnanan, kAn kdi'ko-h as ta'nah mAskihki'wine 'niw ani'nuh k-ay6'nunikdt4'lcin; k-Ani'w tiih aiv~'h-tip&'ham imi's sti'wan5,?w-nipj'hsihsih. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 15 12. BLUE-EYED GRASS. (John V. Satterlee) Blue-eyed grass1 is a great medicine, both as to its blades and as to its roots. It is an ingredient in medical compounds. The way the Indian variously uses it, according to his knowledge of its various characteristics is as follows: If any man or woman chews it up in his mouth, he will have evil teeth and be dangerous; if he bites anyone, at once the wound will fester. Of course, since it is snake-grass, that is why it has evil power. If you feed some of this blue-eyed grass to your stallion, and he fights another stallion and bites him, then this horse cannot get well, unless indeed, one have the antidote. 13. POISON IVY. (John V. Satterlee) Poison ivy, what with its bad qualities, is an evil thing. If accidentally you brush against it in walking by, if anyone brushes against it, there is a sore and an itching eruption; there is a swelling; and it lasts a long time; not soon is one freed from it. Some few people, who have sensitive skin, are likely to be severely afflicted by it. Some other people, however, when they touch it, do not suffer in this way at all; these are the people with good skins. These people are not affected by contact with this thing which is called "badweed" (poison ivy). 14. HOW TO STOP HICCOUGHS. (Maskwawanahkwatok) If someone does not stop hiccoughing, then it is usual for some person to talk very angrily, addressing the hiccougher: "And so it is you who stole that money of mine! Exactly as if nothing had happened you keep standing about, when you have outrageously robbed me of that money of mine!" That is the way one who hiccoughs is spoken to; one storms at him, to startle him with a scolding. 15. RHEUMATISM. (John V. Satterlee) Now, I am merely telling you how hard it is, when one has the rheumatism in one's body. It usually has its seat in the joints. That is the way it has gone with me; my elbows here are almost crippled. Sometimes I have severe pains. If there is a good liniment, one is sometimes relieved. Accordingly, this morning I went and asked our doctor for some of that which is the best of all. But he had none, for the doctor does not keep the ingredients; but soon he will go buy some yonder at Shawano Lake. 1Sisyrinchium gramineum; literally, "snake grass". The same name is used of plantain. 16 143 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 16. BITING INSECTS. (John V. Satterlee' uta'silku'MiAk iCAn 'UWi'Askesinuwa'wan; nanitsa'nesiwAk. jini dnii'patesit as sakZ'puwet. rnehki'h s6'2sup&'htam,, ahk6~?sik ni'? nii'?nilkut as usdi'maskindit. nik6'tds ayu'm nik~s-n4'wdw as salci'puatsin Anid'mun pi'htik uhtii'wakih; ini'? tdh nana'tah mehkk'h. ini'?, iij'2 teh; usii'm me~sih mi'tsuah; pi'hkitsi'skaw as ne'pdk,; kawd'skinew. md'mahkAtd'nihtAk-WAt wd'kit5WAk wdi'h utdi'8ikitm as sakg'puwet, me~si'h mehki'h as m~'tsilk, ini'h-pih tab as ne~ni'kut. wdi'kit~wAk wd'htamii'te~sit? ayum utd'silcum awd'tuk~'hseh.s mdk-&'wit naw~'naw misdI'sdh 6,wiw as kuhlcin&'kihit. ini'? ds-kehki'ndku'Atah. ayum wi'nah nap misd'siihk6'hseh w~'?salka'pitew. ini'9 winah nap wdi'h-piAt: ase~'lAne'hsAn me?tikcuAhsj'h8Ak usi'hsi"pi'wdn sehk~m~'wiw; ini'2 td s Ici'sahit ayum misdi'sdhk5'hseh. lcayZ'sikcit, ini'?-pih pa' pAm-sake'puwet ani'nvh apd'hsusun minatowAn pa-'silknlcmi'wAn. ini2 d'S-MAts'kit. nah&'wv, wvi'nah nap inuh sakcZYmdwu 8alci'puwd'hkiw. ini'9 winah ap wdh-lci'sahit kimj'wanapuh. winah na'p as sakei'pilwet kAn ulki'hIcina'nan as pas nakdi'?tat; ahko6'?sik Ikawd'slcinew as ni'pdic. inuh misiisdhlc'hseh kAt as wi'eskesit matdpi'niSihu'w apdi'hsvsqun; imi's nipi'hih apd'hsus as kAtaw-Ikat4'b. ini's sa-7sj'kihki'htsin. 17. HOW ZOAR PEOPLE SPEND THE SUMMER. (MAskwawdi'nahkWAt~k) papii'm-ma~mi'tsi~iii'hsehke'wAk mamdi'tsi~tawAk, akum u~ma'nakah mamdi'tsi~tawAlk, as papam-wihkwAtsi'htudcua? kdi'lch as lcAtaw-Mnn'tSikua?, kdi'taw-y~h-peMai'tesitua?. kis-pyA'tua? mdi'waw, ini?-pih akd?ts-ni'mihe'titu~a? as a-mami'Ahtu~tsikd'tua? as a-md'hnu-wi'hkihtu,'ku~a? kdi'k~h a-y~h-pemd'tesitua?. tahna'nuh naye-'pih ki-mamd'ti tei'hsehkewAk, as ki-nawind4'tuaP, m~'nan mahkiitd'w-ano'hkanan as ki-tepidhdIkd'tua?, kitami'wAn teh misi'lk as kiw-papii'm-mu'atua2, akuAhk6'hsAn, sik&'kun, pinti'wAn, wd'pusun, nAmd'2sAn, di'hsipanan; ini'?-nikvuh ki-papii'm-in&'htsike'tua?. ini? di'sikitua? alku'm mam&'tsi?tawAk. 18. HOW A MENOMINI WOMAN EARNS MONEY. (MAskwawdVnahkwAt~k) ni'nah lki'spin IkAn mr3'nahaman, PAS nit6'sihtunan anii'hkyAnan misik tatei'?takuku'Atsikan; misik m~'kehs~'hseh pars nit6)'Sihaw; misi'k nayi'wapit pas nikiw-awjA-kisj'?nitsikdm, su'nien as a-kAtawwi'hkihtawan. and'hkiAnan mdi'wa niw pas ni~ki-tepdhAi'kdm. misi'Ic 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 17 16. BITING INSECTS.1 (John V. Satterlee) Wood-ticks are evil creatures; they are dangerous. All the woodtick is good for, is to bite. It draws blood into itself; in the end it is killed by overfilling. I once saw one bite a dog inside the ear; there it sucked blood. Then it ate too much; it burst at the belly and died; it stuffed itself to death. It is a marvelous thing, why in the world the wood-tick bites, eating much blood, only to be killed by it. What possible advantage does it gain? This wood-tick, being at first a bug, after a while turns into a horse-fly, changing its bodily form. Thus goes our knowledge of it. This deer-fly, too, has a painful bite. Its origin is this: the sap of grasses and shrubs turns into froth, and from this the deer-fly takes shape. When it is mature, it goes about biting deer and other gameanimals, and horses. So evil is its nature. This mosquito, too, is a great biter. It takes shape in rain-water. It also, when biting, does not know how to stop: in the end it overfeeds and dies. The deer-fly, being of evil nature, drives deer down to the water: there in the water the deer, to escape, lies with only its head above the surface. 17. HOW ZOAR PEOPLE SPEND THE SUMMER. (Maskwawanahkwatok) The Indians go about gathering ginseng, these Indians of hereabouts, trying to obtain something to eat and to make a living.When they have all come back, that is when they will hold a big dance to pray that they may have success in earning things with which to sustain life. Every summer they gather ginseng and pick berries, blueberries and blackberries, to sell, eating porcupines as they go about, and woodchucks, skunks, quail, rabbits, fish, and raccoons; that is what they eat as they go about. That is the way these Indians do. 18. HOW A MENOMINI WOMAN EARNS MONEY. (Maskwawanahkwatok) If I were not farming, I should make mats and quilts and beadwork, and I should go to Neopit to do washing, so as to earn money. I should sell all the mats. Baskets too I should make. When I had 1 The statements in this text, although true, arouse great laughter. 2 18 18Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kii'hku~pinii'kanan pas nit6'sihtunan. mesi'h K 8~-k~',sihtawan, m&'wa niw pas nitd'pahalcin.- ini'2 pas wd'htina-man me~si'h su-'n yen. m '1ceh - se'hseh pas nitet'pahakedmr; tat&'2takuklu'Atsilcan pas nitdi'pahakdin. ahpdi'n niw me?8ih si'n yen pas nit&'htanan. an6'hkanalc ahpei'n niw pas nna'winem s a-tipd'hadki'yan. ini'9, Pas i',si~ta' yan ni'nah, leAn m6'nahaman. mni'9 ninah kiw-isJ'2taYav,. 19. TOOLS AND IMPLEMENTS. (John V. Satterlee) as kiw-Anuhki yAn, lcAt-lkawa'h as ind'nuhke yen, ini'2?-pih anu'm. ayo'winAn kiw-awa'yAn: pakii'htsildi'hseh ini'? a'y~h as kehtci'hkwaha'meh 8akd'hikanan Misi'k teih as kihki'2tarha'm~eh. indnii'peh as 6'h, lcd'k~h as kVskikahA'meh minii'k mehs~'wAn as kU'skaIhikdtd'kin, as mand'hneh, as tse-'kilkash'keh. ini'h tdh y5'h misi as lkZ'hkah, mdna"i't lkd'1kyd'nit as is-V~skahilcd'makah. nApdkd'peh wina'h ap, ini'2-nuh a'y~h, ndi'Ikw ahkj'w? as lCu'ApahA'meh, as w&'nehkeh, as mi'hicAn~d'hkeh, misi'lc teh MiSAx'S niW ini's mdits-m5'nahZ'lkAnih;ini'2 wvi'nah ap, dnei'pateh. sakdi'h~lkAn-p~'mislkwahj'kAn, u-ta'tsikwVAn-sake-' puta'tsikAn, nap&'kehnAke'si6w-kcg'8kipu'tsikAnt, ini'2-n~h ay6'h as wi'kiWAMd"'hkeh, as lkg'slkipu'nih inuh napii'kehnAlke'89w. lcuta'pyAtsilcan ini'2 a'y~h mdiyi'wikeh kdi'k~h as ws~htuh; ini2 wina'h ap, as kiw-5'tsicA'tkl as kdi'kutdi'pyAtsi'kdh; ta'?, kehlcw4'htsilkAnAn as&'2tewAn. mii'nahM'skipwAn ini'2 a'yo~h as ts'hkaskca'hilkeh misi'lc as as~'watsi'kdh, Misi'lk as nilku'ahahlcih, as m6'nihpe'nih; ini'2 teh as lci'htikewineni'wih mdiyd'w as 6'h. mats-mf1'naha'skipUAn, pt'siputa'2swAn y6'2 pa'siku'lCAsiwVAl say~wi'kinii'hkcua? as pV'2sipu'tdkc inih m5'nalc~hAn. pin/i'hkwAna'hilkAn ini'? ay6'h as pind'hkcwAnah#6'keh m5'nahg'kanias asZ'WAtsilkah; pdi'siku'kAsiwAk tdh utni'tsihta'wAk. heliw, ini'h tdh ndhel'nih pind'hkwAnahe1di'hseh, ind'niw in' wina'h ap a'y6Ik as ts~'lAtame'hkwAhiket. patsW'slah9'1kAn mi"i? a'y~h ase'lAnAn. as tasi'ahlkAmeh as ase-'kAnii'hlkeh, as p&'8l'ihtel'2sih, as ma-'watunilcA'tadc lj'8ik9'htsikcAn, se'2siwa'pinilkAn as md'wats9'htsikAtdk. mi"i? wina'h ap nap 'ind'naw~,'htsilkAtak. asZ'WAtsikAn wi'nah ap, sa~y4'h as talci'k, m6'hlcumd'n as lcsus Z'htulk, i"i? wina'h ap lci'- 5h as as Z'wAn jh misd'lkhimi'namaliw, pd'8iku'kAsiw-mAn6'meh, as9'kAn-Ase9'WAtA'kAn. mi"i? lkeh tepel'h niw 4ana'siwAt-sika'mAkAt. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 19 made a great quantity, I should sell them all. From this I should obtain much money. I should sell beadwork: I should sell patchwork quilts. I should always have a great deal of money. I should always gather raspberries and sell them. That is what I should do, if I did not farm. That is the way I do. 19. TOOLS AND IMPLEMENTS. (John V. Satterlee) When I work, doing all kinds of work, I use these tools: The hammer is used when nails are driven or drawn. The axe is used when things are split, when kindlings are chopped, when one makes fire-wood, and when something is being hewn. Because of its sharp edge, there are many things which it will cut. The spade is used when sand or earth is being shovelled, in digging, in road-making, and in many ways on the farm; that is what it is good for. The screw-driver, the monkey-wrench,1 and the saw are used in building houses, and for sawing wooden boards. The square-measure is used when one makes straight things: it is used in measuring things; of course, there are markings engraved on it. The hoe is used in weeding and planting, and in making hills, and in digging potatoes; it is used chiefly in farming. The big hoe or plow is what is drawn by horses when the field is being plowed. The harrow is used for levelling down the field in planting; horses draw it. The small rake is what a man uses when he rakes the ground. The pitchfork is used when the hay is being handled at mowing time, and for loading it on a wagon, when the crops are being gathered and the grain harvested. That is the way it is used. The seeder which now exists, since the white man has made it, is used when wheat, oats, and hay-seeds are being planted. It does the sowing with entire uniformity. Literally, "wagon-biting-tool." 2* 20 20 Publications. American Ethnological Society JVol, XII 20. BUYING A CANOE. (John V. Satterlee) inuh nind'hlkwAneh sik5'hseh, --- eld'nsAn hi' -ski'nr, mfini'yilk, -- ayu'm- nikes-Ano'nekc as aw-ntdwd'pahtaman mamdi'tsi~taw-me'2tik0-s. jni2 tdh a'n~w as 1cs-mehkk'man ni'kut. 1k&1k1ai'hseh umld'nikAnih dl'tanii'hkcit wii'pikiniw as tepdi'nihtah y~m me'2t-ik~s. niko&'tsimun6'naw as pas tepahdi'Ikt. 'nahd&'w.' ~wd'h. 'ta'? tdh dnak~'htAman?' 'ini'? kdth metdi'tah sit'n yen.' 'ta? as a'?telc y~m kit's? weskiA~tUAt? ayg'tuh utsiAflunAkOAW$i??' '.a? Idi'h,' jwd'h. 'Ica'yAs ih 4Awi?.?' Id? k1&th, kdi'yas i'h &'wiw; niWc's-teih-wds~h~tun, mtihkumd'n uwai'si'piah kit's itdin as a'?telc; kAn &,'? tdh pas Icipit6'nan misi k~'kih as aw-ts8'?napd&'htsikAtcdk?' 'nahd'w, nina-pi't~n mnis ni'kinAnuwa2.' lkd'?tin tdh naw~,'naw nitap-ts'?napd'htAn WIa asinA'kuah, sa~yd'h as nAto~tsikA'talc; msi"'k tdh metd'tah Sii'n yen wdn6'ska?tew. imi'? tdh dnd'rnihe-1cj'sicah, niks-nAW~'h-kAtdw-na"'min. imi'? tlih as witsi'wAlk ni/kut ma'hkumein kikh WC'WAfl. ayu' tdh m6'hkumnui wi'nah nap ini'? pits-ind'hlkAt as kAtaw-asa'?tuk umd'?numinew mama-'tsi?taw utanAna'MuAn, utd's Z?nisiwin. lcahpih k6'simunAlk wiipi'kini-w inih me?ti'k6s as IcAta'w-tse'?napa&'htAman, m1isi'k tdh as kAtd'w-tepd'hAman, ini'? -tih d'ts, kAt as kZ8 -na'tilk. 'imi'? w&'?naw si'piah as a'?telk; usd'm nitc'yuta'mi?tam; misi'k Ptdh y~m ho&'s apdhni'hsAk k~s-patski'?sahkcwana4'hamuk; misi'lk tek m ne'?sih wvds,h~tdiw.' h&'w, ini'? tdh 4'nAk kAn tSiyd'w s A-na'tikc, misi'k teh IkAn nikii'tawtepaha'nAn. niku't tith wi'nah mi'n niw kayd'nit me'?tiko-s kiw-6'k as lc& pAWa'hah; IMi? td'h mi'n niw k6'tsimu,'nAlk pAs d'nake-'htah. ini'? tdh 4'ts, 'tAlku'A1C nik&s-mas~'nahtesg'wem inuk pd'l b4d'Istr; kAnAmehtsi' teh tepii'hAm; mitsi' niw nima'sina'hikUAk; tsiya&' tdh nikdi'taw-ydh-MA'mdn; ninaw-tOh-n&'tin; ini'? Odh A-tipa'haku,'Anan, ki'spin kAtdW-MAM4'yAn.' ni'nah tdh tsi'ydw ini'? d'nAk, 'lkAn pas nit4'pahA'nan; usii'm M4'tS-6's, Misi'k teh as wdsgh6'tiuk. ini? wd'h as aw-astl'nAMAn. apd'?si/c teh ndihd'nih kd'yes me?ti'kc~s &yg'tu,.h WatSiAnunA/co'wikc misi'k tdhk /An as wds~/u3'tdkc, ini'? nd'tawenihtA'Ikuah.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 21 20. BUYING A CANOE. (John V. Satterlee) My nephew Little Weasel, Alanson B. Skinner of New York, has commissioned me to look for an Indian dug-out canoe. Now I did, to be sure, find, one. We asked White Eagle1 who lives in Crow Settlement and owns this canoe, if he would sell it. "All right," he said. "What price do you put on it?" "Why, ten dollars." "Where is this canoe of yours? Is it a good one? Has it a bent prow at both ends?" "Yes, indeed," said he. "Is it an old one?" "Yes, indeed, it is an old one, but I have painted it with white man's paint." "You say it is in the river: can't you bring it to your house to be looked over?" "All right, I'll bring it to our house." So then after a while I went to look it over, to see what it was like, when it was wanted; and ten dollars were in readiness. So then last Sunday I went off to see it. At this time there went with me a white man and his wife. As for this white man, he has come here to write down the Menomini Indian's language. But when I asked White Eagle to let me look at that boat, as I wanted to buy it, then he said that he had not gone to get it. "It is way down there in the river; I am always too busy; and besides, the boys have cut the prow-ends off this boat; and it is too much painted." So I told him he need not get it and that I did not care to buy it. However, he uses another larger dug-out when he gathers wild rice; I asked him now what he would charge for it. He said: "Last fall I gave it on credit to that Paul Baxter, and he has not yet paid for it; he still owes me for it; I shall have to take it back; I shall go get it, and sell it to you, if you want to buy it." But I was obliged to tell him: "I can't buy it; it is too large a canoe and is painted; that is why I refuse it. What is wanted is a smaller and antique dug-out, with bent prows at both ends and not painted." Charles Nachiwiskay. The denunciation of him in the text is not to be taken seriously, but is a more or less conventional, humorous expression of disappointment. 22 22Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII naha'w, ini'2-pih di'wih-nd'WAk nehsj'h wi'lyem sd'trli,. as &tsimi'2 -taWAk, as kd'lcutsimu'nAlC, ini'? tdh dnd'ts3imi'2tawit, aya,'m wa-piki'niw as k-s-tepahdi'kdt inih md't8-pawii'hdn-me'2tik58 iis min-V'kan ni'wapit. ini'? tdh d's, sa? ye/h a'pehtaw as lcs-fd'pinah mi/i d'na/cThti/c inih m4'ts-6s. ini'? tdh ni'nah sa'?ye'h as pdt't-/eh/cI'AWAk as /cin6'h/cisi'hkit; IcAn tWI we'YA/c pas uki-pehtdwd'nan. ini'? kay~s-ihpdi'nAnikdi'yah. kdi'h nap as awjh-pd't8-ts3'?napd'htAMAh mi/i apdi'?sic ndhdi'nih me?ti'kc5s9. ini'? tdh tsi'Ydiw as p6'nihakih; ini'-pih Ut/i misi'lc kayd'nituhi ndtiwdi'htAMAn lcayd'nit me?ti 'kos, ki'spin as aw-diye'tuh-utsi'An~unAk6'wik misi'k- tdh kd'yA-s i'h as aqv-c'wilc, mnisi'k tdh IcAt as dw-wdisjh5'Eta/c U, di'n6 teh talc6'n; usdi'm tdh wdisM/i'tsi/cati'wAn. irn'? Uth nand's y6'hpih kAnAme'hts3iw nimd'hlcAn as awv-tepdihaman as kAtd'Wawd'tAhi-di'yAn ini's mutni' ydk, MdMd'VAW wiyd'piski'wdt m5'h/cumiin as aw-lci'h-nap, as aw-tdtsj'?napdT'hitsik-atdk misi as tas8h-kAnW'wihtsikd't6dk md'wa niw kd'k~h kdi'YAS mam~i'sitaw utd'sihu'Anan.. l-di'?tin tdh naw~'naw IcAn W' VyAk nnawv-in'ra-a-' y'us~'htunan, uts&'m mamei'tsi?taw ~ni'm-pfini'ahlcAm., mi/i y6'h 'WA yd'pis/ciwaV'nit as tam&'kuslckalcut. ini'? tih y6'm nitayd'tsimuAn, 'wi'yAlc as aw-kiw-nd'mik misi'/c tdh as a-/c~n5'htah, kayjs-is~kimakahi-ut~'h inA'/cAh/cAM. 21. B UYING A B UGG Y. (Joseph Satterlee) unei'k~w ni/cs-ap-nat&'w-tipa'haw utd'tsi/cu'ahs3eh nayi'sua?te/cin Atu/tApyA'kAnAn. naha'w, ni/cu't tih ap~'w. nekft'tuAk misi'k tdh ni'sinuh meti'tah ini'/cihst5w. ta'?, ini'? teh as nfiisi'Ah/cAWAk; /cAn uke-sti'p-usi'htu~nuwdi'wAn as k &s-ydi'tsihtu'cu~a? inih MAs~nahj/cAn. tApAnesi'WA/c uta'ts3iku'AhSAk. sii'cd~w miti'tah teh a'wiw inih nima'sina'hi/cAn. ta'?, ini'? tdh kAt as tap-tAnd'mAn inuh utd'tsiku'Ahseh s td-pdi'/itsi'hAk. ini'? kayj's-ap-isi'yen as ne?ni'hnehkin s /cw-Mt'meh ni's-inuh metdi'tah ani'w tepdi'hi/cAn. 22. THE MENOMINI INDIAN FAIR. (MAskwaw&'nahkwAt6/c) ni/cd?ts-sj'hkatcan s kiw-awMh-ni'mihiwdt mnis s ki'w-a~tatih. Me?sih sii'n yen ki-pand'ts3ihtaw; ni's-inuh mitdi'tah /ci'sih d'h/cwah tipei'hu, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 23 Then I went to visit my younger brother, William Satterlee. When I told him my story and asked him questions, he told me that White Eagle had sold that large dug-out for rice-gathering over in the town of Neopit. And he said that he had already received half the price of that big boat. So now 1 know him for sure to be a liar; no one should ever believe what he says. That is the way we were dealt with, then, when we went to examine that smaller dug-out canoe. So now we must needs quit him; and so now I am asking about elsewhere for another dug-out, provided it has bent prows at both ends and is antique and is unpainted. To be sure, there are some, but they are too much painted. So it is that up to the present I have not found one to buy and send to New York, for all the whiteskinned Americans to look at, in the place where are preserved all the implements of the old-time Indian. For truly, soon no one will continue to make these things, for the Indian is giving up these ways, for the reason that the white man is crowding him out. This then is my story, for people to read and to hear how it happened in the past. 21. BUYING A BUGGY. (Joseph Satterlee) Yesterday I went to try and buy a two-seated buggy. There was one at the store. It was priced at one-hundred twenty dollars. And that was when I had not enough money to buy it; they had not made the paper big enough when they renewed it'. I had been given this one last fall; and at that time buggies were cheaper. My paper was for ninety dollars. So then I had not enough to get hold of that wagon. So there I had gone to Three Rivers as it is called2, twenty miles and more. 22. THE MENOMINI INDIAN FAIR. (Maskwawanahkwatok) I greatly dislike it when he goes off to lead the dancing at the Fair. He always spends a great deal of money; his earnings amount The Menomini tribe is self-supporting, thanks to the tribally owned logging industry, which is managed by government officials. After public expenses, such as school, hospital, and superintendence of reservation, have been paid, the remainder of the tribal fund is distributed, chiefly in the form of orders on merchants for the purchase of needed articles. 2 Suring, Oconto County, Wisconsin. Publication~s, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII sow. ni'wulun as tanei'hlcamikah, ini2 s8u/'asil meti'tak, as Ici'-pan&tsijhtulk. kAn kdi'kc~h ulciw-iski'hsin~enan. CAfl upul'sitsinan; /CAn kd'lc~h u11tdpiiti'nan. ta'?, nahd'2s pimdi'tesiw; kAn- wi',y.A unmtsi'AnehSAn; ini'2 wdh-ij' k-it. 23. LACK OF GOOD BREEDING. (MAskwawa'nahkWAt-k,) k"An ukes-nino'tamo~wc'nan anuh 'Unt,8ti'Aneh8An. nahud'w, ini'hpih, wi' yAk 'wg'kima'tsin anuh apdhni'hsAn, MAt89'2-tel&-tse'kit inuh apiihni'hseh, '1k6'hne2 pass kik~s-nin6'amak 'md'waw kd'k~h; PA8 kik&s-wg'htaMAk; kuycd'k ftih pAs kikU's3-pimei'tesim; mii'wawv lcd'lc6h pAs kikjs-kehkj'nan!' 24. A PROVERB. (mAskwawdi'nahkWAt6k-) sehkou'Andw: updm&'tesin m~' ndw?. 25. A BAD NEIGHBOR. (MAskwaw&'nahkwAt~k) anum ise'kinun kisi'Apehki'Isikana'htikun kg's-tandm nilci's. kra'ntAn; ini2-pih mdi'waw kayi~s-kim6'it tsa'n. mii'wa ni'w, - unatkatuan Atft'hpwAnih nikuh kU'w-5h, - m&'wa niw Icis-k1cinu'timew. uhse'melh8An kj's-nip6n; inii'niw kjs-&'IWiW. m&'waw Idi'k6h kW'-tanim inuh indi'niw, um6'nahdkan, wj'k, mis8ik as lki-s6'pumii'hk-ih nikulh kiw-6'k; mnd'waw kUs-tamni'm. updi'sikukAsi'AMAn d'pisi'nAinit 1kg's-tandw. ini'2-pih kay&s-mi'wine'8ihatsin anuh mitii'muhs8An;, kAfl p6't8 Ice'k~h ukis-me-nai'nan; p6'ts ut&'kuman k,,-s-mahkii'mdw; wine'? m&'waw md'mik tsa'n. mitei'muh teh inulh kitehn&'kesiw mrisik' inuh apdihnihseh; kAn p5'ts kd'k~h mii'nawats menii'nan. y6'2 W'nkinit apehni'AseI. 1flith kc98-ne'2nik in'?ih i'nad'niw. 26. CON VER SA TION OF T WO MEN. (Jerome Lawe) h&d p~s6', p~s6'! ahpa'n ahkA'nuh as kes-ni'AnAn! td'9 teh na'p das-pema'tesiyAn? misi'k teh kZ'ko-wa? ta'2 &'sikitua2? 5A, nimei'hnuw-Tminaw. tNV' teh y6'8 kd'taw-dts-i'yen? iiAta2 kutd'2nas lkeh niku't and'mihe-kWsikAt nina'w-i-m. kjs-tdpndt'wA1ua$2 dnawi'malkua?. ta'2 teh nii'p d'siki'makah imi's wdh-pi'yen? 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 25 to twenty dollars a day. As the goings-on last four days, it is eighty dollars he spends. He never has anything left. He is not stingy; he does not hold back anything. Well, he lives alone; he has no children; that is why he is that way. 23. LACK OF GOOD BREEDING. (Maskwawanahkwatok) He has not properly explained things to his child. Then, when some woman marries that lad, and he turns out ill, "Your father should have explained everything to you; he should have informed you; then you might have borne yourself properly; you might have known things!" 24. A PROVERB. (Maskwawanahkwatok) He spits at him: he gives him of his life.1 25. A BAD NEIGHBOR. (Maskwawanahkwatok) My son had this kind of stovepipe. My son had bought all kinds of things. Then they went visiting in Crandon; then John stole all of those things. Everything, - the dishes for the table, - everything did John steal from him. His younger brother died. That man had all manner of things, a farm, a house, and his equipment for sugar-making; he had all manner of property. He had a black horse. Then John drove away the woman; he did not give her a thing; he even took her blanket away from her; John took everything. The woman was in desperate straits, and her little boy too; not the least thing did he give them. The boy was as big as this. That man had died in the influenza epidemic. 26. CONVERSATION OF TWO MEN. (Jerome Lawe) Oh, hello, hello! It's a long time since I've seen you! How are you And those at your house, how are they faring? Oh, we are well. How long are you going to be here? Why, I shall stay here about a week, until I have had a good visit with my relatives. And how are things over there where you come from? 1 The belief being that the spitter's life is shortened, and the offended person's by that much lengthened. Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 6A, md'hnuw-a'wiw; mdnd't anuhki'win; nimad'hnu,-mami'tsihsiminaw; misi'k teh me?,si'h nirm~'nikeminaw as anuhki'yah. nap ini's kAt kits-pi8-Wj'kim as aw-anuhici' yen. pas kimd'hnuw-dyi'm inis. W?' kceh s5h kayC8s-ina'hkamikah mni's wvdh-pi'Yen kahpih aya'pehta-nj'pih? 6A kUs-5sa'mahkam~ikAt! kd2ti'n teh wi'nawh, d'wi niwv as and'hndte-siyah, UM~s as nak&'nikAktdk y6'm mindin. ta'2. ini't teh wi'nah as ni'mihetih? kUs-5sa'mat kay.j's-is-umni'nikuah! na'2s ini's kAt nikj's-iM; naw~na'?s wi,'yAk mni's pas Ics-mini'hnen niwi'hsWAn. ja w~'ki ni'w apd'2ts8i'nukit mnitii'muhSAk! naw#~nd'2s mmn ini'21 w~kut'4pMt kay&s-y~h-pi'nAt! 27. BROTHER-IN-LAW JESTING. (Jerome Lawe,) a'. p5,s', ni~ta'w! inisa'? wd'h as minike-'sikah UMAs ki'nah as pi'yen! t&'2 tek, ni~ta'w, sfinye'n kipituwim iAna2? nimii'2, kc~n na'p! kine'2 siinyAn pis-nAtotamunan! ni'nah winah na'sAp niw nipis-nAtiJka'puwim. si'h, sinaw&'2 niw! kina-kd'2ts-mehna'wihin! 28. BARRETT AND SKINNER EAT A TURTLE'S HEART. (John V. Satterlee) nikdi'taw-asii'2tu~n as aw-kehkinatku'Atah kay ~s-is~'kimakah nikU'tas. mni'? tdh, ni's ina'niwAk- as kj's-qp-wawi'kitbua2 Mh-y6M MAhwd'wsWp~w, ini's tspayi'hsAkc as api'tua2, inuh nliku,'t ina"'niw ini? as ke'wuhnet 8ipi'Ah-seh as sakj'Wik. ne~ni'w mis*t ahki'htimiw; mini thas ndwa'tsin md'ts-ukjmiiwine'niwAn; mnu'? tadh mi'hklcdnh. naha'W, ayum, ini'niw ini's as ndwa'tsin, ini'? as ahpii'kisit as td'pinatsin; salka'nC~wendw; alkuA~t'tsimeW. ini'? tdh as a-pukuAha'tsin use'hsn. ayu'2 tdh aya'wit mAslkihkciwinini'hseh. naha'w, m1i'? tdh as usj'hneh as na'siwet. ah-akcu'm, tah uwjhtii'wihsimd'wAk ak6'? aya'witua2, mdnd'wah tasi'niniw p~'htsikundih ds3-uwi'hswAnit; ayu'2 tdh ni'Ikut muini'ydk tasi'niniw a wiw; ini'? tdh wi'nah nap ds-wihtsika'sit, silk6'hseh;- mnu'? tah naya'siwet. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 27 Oh, it's all right; there is lots of work; we have plenty to eat, and we get good pay for our labor. You ought to come there to live and work. You would get along well there. Tell me, what sort of doings were there in your place on the Fourth of July (literally: at midsummer)? Oh, great goings-on! Of course we had to be sober, now the drinking has been stopped. But dancing do you call it? It was great, the good time we had! I wish I had been there; perhaps my name would have been good with someone there (i. e., a woman would have taken to me). Oh, there surely were lots of women folks! Perhaps you would have taken one home with you from there! 27. BROTHER-IN-LAW JESTING.1 (Jerome Lawe) Ha, good day, brother-in-law! So that's why it's such a fine day: because you have come here! Well, brother-in-law, are you bringing us money? Heavens, no, poor me! It's you I've come to ask for money! As for me, I have merely come here to stand round on the look-out for girls. Shame on you! Keep still! I'll teach you how to behave! 28. BARRETT AND SKINNER EAT A TURTLE'S HEART. (John V. Satterlee) I wish to put into writing a thing which once happened, that it may be known. Well then, when two men were out camping by this Wolf River, over at the burial-place of children, one of those men went walking about at a place where a brook empties into the river. Three feet was the depth of the water; and that was where he came upon a big chiefman2; it was a turtle. Now when this man saw it, he waded in and seized it; he caught it by the tail; he dragged it out of the water. And then he gave it as a hunter's gift to his uncle. This latter was Little-Doctor3. Then it was arranged that he give a ceremonial feast. Now these nephews were: a man from Milwaukee, MedicineBundle4 by name; and the other was a man from New York; and this one's name is Little-Weasel; and it was he gave the feast. 1 This custom is still followed; in an unobtrusive way a man will say absurd things to his brother-in-law, or about him. 2 Turtle, porcupine, and bear are called by this name. 3 The narrator, Skinner's uncle by adoption. 4 S. A. Barrett, director of the Public Museum. 5 A. Skinner. 2 S" 28Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] ini'2 td~h as Ies-anika'sit mihkd'ndih as ndmiti'tua2. jnj'2 tcdh kay~~spi'malcah: d'tskanah mni'2tAm kUs-w~nanihtsikca'sit, ini'? as 1kis-mehkcdwx'nihta'kusqit mihkd'nd~h kuhkciZ'w as is~ skit. aku'm tdh u-w htdI'uih - sj'ht~wAk kUs-AskU'h-niw-k5'htAmuk pAtskd'2 mihkdi'ndh 5td'1h, as aw-mdnaw#Z'htawi'tvua9. ini'? tah kdhkinaku,'Atah,, lAn wi'nah nds ni'w inuh uwihkihtu,'nan as a-k6'htah mihldi'niih utei'h as mdlk-pirn&'tesi'makah. j~h-y5'm tah Mat8-a'tsiMUAn aw-C'nim-a wiw. ini'? wd'h tah y6'hpih aMA 1's as adit' tsikA'tdjk yO's masinah~'Ianih. 29. HOW I KILLED A BEAR. (Joseph Satterlee) nik6'tuh ni'nah kdh nii'p nikc~s-wdhtsitaw-mini'Apumdi'WisiM fpisdtts-pa'pema'tesiyAn. a'tsima'wA1C awdi'hs8Ak; ukcimd'wine'niwAk, kiwis-w~'hnewAkc lk'yA8 kikdtskyA'MinAWAk. ini'? tdh s kd'2ts-nawi'hsitua2 me~tiku'minAn. ini'? teh wd'h s kd.'2ts-mii'hki?tAtua?. ahdi'.. pahp#g'siwAk ttih mana'wAIC. nilk6td',s niw s nehkd'h nipits-pitsgYnik n~ikut ina'niw s a-nAwe'h-tah-ahlcond'hAk.t'htua?. nahud'w. nikj~s-tcihWitsiWd',naw s ap-kg'wikApuwj'yah misi mi'hikAnih. usa-'MAt pahpj's3iwAk ti'nulhnetua&; 1CAf a-'wiwAn s pas ni'ah awd'hseh. sa~yd'l niw s kAta'-n~'hni~ta'yAn s tdi'-pis-kiwdi'yAn, nahdkid&'t niw nipis-Ikdki'hk'uhnem; kAne-' keh niw pis-kii'hpiwelc. ~'nu'? tih ukima'wineniw ayd'wit; miy&' keh ni nipi'?tAk ini's as n~'pvwi yen. rnAyd'nAM nikes-8sd'Ikisim; ta?, kd'?ts8i'h niw ini'9 niw wdh-sas&Iciwik ini's as n~' puwi yen. nah&'w, 's3as6'hlkiteh, y6'? niw aw-uht'i'nAWAk kAt nbi'w inih!" kay#&s-inii'nihtAMAn. sa~ye'h prni-pim0,'tikA'puwiw m4'ts3-awd'hseh. t'ni'?-pih pa'muAk. Icdt6'wdk, MAneWa'Th ihpiht p&'pehtsin. td'p ihpih teh ni'w kjs-ihp&'htaw; MAnina'kt1-wa'hsin. ihpih tsiw-ni-pi8-ku'Apahtah, ayat'tskwAt as di'wik kd'?ts-kdi'kit~w. t.d'2, awd'? tdih pAs mdi'hk-Awatsin? ki'skAnitipc''hAt. nahud'w, kehki'rnin niw skotd'IhSAn rnd'2sih nip~'hnahanAn nim~ti'hs8ihsih. ani'? tiih ini-pdpi'hkihnitawan s natu'a~nenakih, nima'2, 8iWAS nApalca?sihsin Ma'S-MAna'to-w. ho'w, ini'?-pih nj'mAt pis-nan&'tsin tiitt'tsikwAnAn. ini'? NAl ni'nah s peipipi'hAk. mni'f?, ini? pdp'hpis mi8?i'k nikut s pis-klCak'hpihsih. 8a?ye'h niw as8 A-nd'wvAk- s a-pis-m6'hki~tAt, ini'2-pih payV'twad'pusit inuh flC'MAt uatiitt'tsikwAnAn. ini'?. ini? s sdi'kihtuwi't ay6'w kei'tA-nuik-ni'WAk (awU'hseh. ni? ahpd'n s kis-ki'skiwek. -nalhi'w, ini'? kih telt s tas6'kiyah s td-'wi'kiw-p6'sihxkdh Md'tsawi'hseh; wi'ki kdh nik6'tis niwi'khihu,'naw s Po-'sihA'kih. htji'w,. ini'O-pih pis-kUwd'yah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 29 So then the turtle was cooked for the feast. And then it happened: at the start, before the turtle was cut up, it was called to mind that Turtle was a being of more than usual power. And these nephews then swallowed raw a bit of the turtle's heart, that they might be brave warriors. For this is a thing known, that not everyone is able to swallow a turtle's heart while it is still beating. Now this will in the future continue to be a great story. That is why today it is written down in this book. 29. HOW I KILLED A BEAR. (Joseph Satterlee.) Just once in my life I really was lucky. Bears were reported, 'chief-men,' as our ancestors of old used to call them. They were hard at it, picking acorns, and that was why they were coming out in numbers. Of course there were many hunting them. One evening a man came and invited me to go along and watch for them. So I went with him to stand around on the trail. Very many hunters were walking there; no bear was to be seen. When I was ready to give up and come back home, I was walking slowly along, when suddenly there came a scratching sound. It was a chief-man; he was coming straight towards me where I stood. I was considerably frightened, for the thick brush extended to very near where I was standing. Very well, "Courage! Right from here I will shoot him, come what may!" I thought; and at once there came and stood with his side to me a big bear. Then I shot at him. At the sound of the gun, he fell a little ways off. A certain distance he ran; then he fell with much noise. As he died, he gave a last loud roar. But now, who could find him? It was darkest night. By good luck I had put a lot of matches into my pocket. I kept lighting them one after another, as we looked for the bear. Why, there was the great beast, lying stretched flat. So then my friend went to get his wagon. I waited there for him. Then suddenly another one came along with grating noise. I was about to get sight of him as he came forth, when my friend came rattling up with his wagon. In this way he scared him off for me, this bear I was about to encounter. For now the noise entirely stopped. So now we were hard put to it trying to load the big bear into the wagon; at last we succeeded in getting him on. So then we came back home. 30 30 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 30. HOW NEHTSIWIHTUK WAS TEMPTED. (nehtsqVi'wihtuk,-) hd'w, ni~a 't, 1cinaw-'wi'htamun kd'k~h kay&34isWki yen. jh-y6'hpih nikci-kei~ts-m&'mahk-ctdi'nihtan; inih-pih tdh wvi'nah s kzjs-neh4t'nis8i'yen kcAn nik~s-mdmahkAtd'nihtA'nan. nahli'w, n5'hne2 k s-nehi~Ah-an ~'hiuew; k 8-neh ~'h-AQtaw~'k~tv. nahaT 'w, s k,,i-mnind'tua2 mAma 'tsi~ta'wVAk, m&'wa niw lciw-AnZ'haw.,1'iyd'nikutu'hk~n Iki-mdts9i'win, wki&ws 1CWisi'At, mAma,'tsi~taWAn lc~i-papri'm-a~tawd''ts3in; nwani't'u kiiw-Ane'hawv n5'hne9. nik6 h's teh, ta'?, - rnitd'tah ni'w-inj' nik~~s-talhniw-pip6'nake'sim, - nimtd'hs.3h, 'nahai'w, mis3dhk-Atewi,'nun!' nkiw-i'lcuah. ki'seh di'hkcuah ikAn k4d'k.-h nikci-m~'ts3inan as 1ki-misdfhk-Atewd~'yen. as nipa'yan nik~t6's, ini? s kjs-nd'wI-k indi'niw. - -siw indi'ni~w is&nd'kusiw, - as kdkilcitu'tawvit: 'nah&'w, ni~a't, kinaw-uweimati'hti2,' nitdi'kuah;- 'kuti'2nas mdnd't'aa2 ina'niWAk, kinaw-a~tawO6'naWAk 2 Zwai'h; 'md 'wa ni'w, ni~a't. kinaw-an jh6'naw_,k a?ta~waki'h~tua2. naM 'w, nine'? tdh, ni~a't, a-ni~tarnunan s~ aw?,-an~'haki'htua9.' -n~it4'k~uah inun ind'niw as ni~pa'yan. ini? s kdk-jkitu'tawit. ayatscu,'At tOh as ki'Ikitit, 'p-n wi'nah, ni?a't, Ic'spin kim~'wah a?tawik-i'nun. ahlci'?,si yen ni'nah, lkd'kdh ninaw'''nitdnd'nihtAn as nip&'yan, 'hanit5'-wAic teh PAS d'sikit j'h-ayum 'h56',' jw&'h, 'umdi'2, ni?a't, is3j'kiw ay&'wi yen,.' ~wd'h inuh n~'mnAt. ini2-pih ~h-y5'm 4'sis-kuhkcZ'?tAt as ma'tsiAt; pi"k, pi'k t~ih a'wiw; pilc-inei'niw tdih &'wiw as an&'muhnet! Uh', nitind'nihtAn, 'pi 'Ianun aWi'Asapa'nin Z'h-anum kay~kitutii'lcuyan!' nitdndi'nihtan; V1OiW, IkAn ne'mnAt Pas uti'WnanJ' ini? dmid'nihtaman. ni'w-inuh as WAn6i'tipdi'hkcah nik,-'s-n&'wadw as nipa'yan. 'kA'n, lcA'n, kA'n!' nitdndt'nihtAn as Jki-pi'At inuh inad'niw; ',us8&'m p~'kAn niw a'wiwAn! 1c''k~h kAna'pats niti'sikim ni'nah ap,' nitdnei'nihtAn. ini?-pihi tdh kay&s-p5'ni?tAt; kAnb nik5'tuh misi'k nipi'?talcu'nan as nipii'yan. ini'? kdh nina'h a~p, ni?a't, dind'tsimi'?tunan 1kay.es-is' Iki yen nilk6'hi as nipdi'yan. 31. NEHTSIWIHTUK AS A TRENCHERMAN. (nehts8'wihtuk-) nahu 'w, ni?a't, nima-n'nilhtAn a&-y5'sq as pi'yen, ni'nah n~'kih pi8-nd'wi yen. hd'w, 'J&-y5'm, teh kdi'taw-i8-Ikehke-'namA11, ni'nah ap 1kina-w~'htamun ini'h kdi'hlkinA'mAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 31 30. HOW NEHTSIWIHTUK WAS TEMPTED. (Nehtsiwihtuk) My friend, I shall tell you of something that happened to me. At the present time I greatly wonder at it, but at that time, when I was young, I did not wonder at it. My father was a great one at winning from people; he was very skilful at games. Where there were many people, he would beat them all. At times he would go away, I was told, going to distant places, gambling with the people all over; from all of them would my father win. Now at one time, - I was fourteen years old, - my grandfather kept telling me, "Now go make your puberty-fast!" All day I would go without food, making my puberty-fast. Then once in my sleep I saw a man, - like a man he looked, - who addressed me: "Well, my friend, let us be friends,"l he said to me; "If anywhere there are many men, we shall gamble with them," he said. "All of them, friend, we shall defeat, when we gamble with them. And I, my friend, will be the one who helps you, so that we may win from them," said this man to me in my sleep. Thus he addressed me. But at the end of his speech he said: "However, my friend, do not gamble when it is raining. If I get wet, I shall be done for." "Oho," thought I in my sleep, "what in the world is it that would happen to this friend of mine, if he got wet?" thought I. "Why," said he, "see here, my friend; this is the kind of being I am," said my friend. Thereupon he faced about to go: a playing-card he was, a card; it was the King of Spades, as he walked yon way! "Oho", thought I, "so they are playing-cards, these things that are holding converse with me!" I reflected. "In that case he cannot be a friend to me." Thus thought I. Four times in the night I saw him in my sleep. "No, no, no!" I thought when that man would come; "Seeing that they are only playing-cards! I too might perhaps be brought to ruin!" thought I. Then he ceased: never again did he come to me in my sleep. So now I have told you, my friend, how I once fared as I slept. 31. NEHTSIWIHTUK AS A TRENCHERMAN. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) My friend, I am glad that you have come here to visit me in my house. The thing you want to know, I, for my part, shall tell you, to the extent of my knowledge. 1 Or "partners" or "brothers." 3~2Puliatins nAerican Ethnological Society Vol. XI] nik6'tdst' nikut indi'niw, 'nah&'wv, kit&'wih-pahpV'si91!' nitii'kwah; 'frisiku'lkAsi'w nikv 't k-,ina-nayo'mikim.' nitd'l,-,qah. n a~uh'w, w& 'pahnmi'p kina-md'tsia9'. ~dh nalui'w!' nitd'naw. mi/p ni '2-pih wdn~'yen; nipd'sqketsisikAn, niw& '2skin, nini'mdn, md'waw nit6'sihtun s awdi'tawan. nahti'w., ini2-p~h, isi'yen inuh ne-'mat pasikukA5i'IVAn htd'?natsin. nalui 'w, payiAtd'yAn n~'mat, 'nah&'w, mini sa~yd 'hI' nitd'ndiw. 'h&t'uw,' iw&'h, 'inum-e '2 pdsiku'k-Asi'W, ~wdi'h 'nayo-'miki'yAn. nay~ma'kan ini? d&'2tik; awMh-uhp~'sin,' nitd'kuah. nahd'w, nit~td'hpinan nay~md'kan, pdsikit'kAsiw1 Y~hpj'nak. kiiW, nay6'miki'yen, mayitsi'yen, h&'w. wiihtsita' miw lcisi'pah&6'niki'yah, -sa~yd,'h saka'nah na yi'k, ini2l-pihpayiAtd'ayahadsi'yahnip~'hsehsih. mi'i? as w~'kiyah. hi''ntd'naw. nipd'hunan ni'nah ap nini'mdin as a'2tawan.. hii'u, wina'h ap ini') as pi't~k as a'2tuk,hd'w, mitsihsi'yah. ho'w, kay~'s-mi'tsihsi'yah, ini',)-pih maydtsi'yah. ni's a WiWAn ani'nuh nipi'IisehsiAn. nilku't ni'nah ap nitd'.SiAM; lui'W, wi'nah ap ni'mat nilcu't imi? a'8iAt, as nehj'htawah nipii'tepeh. ha&'w, payi~tdi'yan inih nipW'seh, metike's ini? as nd'man as a'2te1kx 'h&'w, y6"'? kdh kii'taw-awii'yan!' nipdi'miw-us~'htun; nipi'hih nitii'hpAki'to~n. h&'w, ini? s p5'si yen. ini9 sa?y&'h8s wAni'tipdi'hkah; niwa'2suk-Ann ni"'tsu-,si~htun sa-wz'slciwah w&?ninikldi'yAn. 1kayis-Ic'sihtawan, irni-pih ma ydtsi'yen pimn'tsimdi'yan. as mdk-pim0'tsimdi'yan, nin6'htAn; nipe'w, lca'kihii'wt, pii'sus!' niktnii'nihtan. apd'hsus nipi'hih as n~'puwit. nipasketsi'8sikan nit6tiihpenan, pd's - kitsi8WAk. nipi'hih p&'pehtsin. 'h&'w, ini? lkdh s kj's-nipiik!' nawZ'naw ini2-pih kaydi'?ts-n6'we?neh; nitd'nawihisim s lkAtd'wpim j'tsime'yan. ha'w, ahlki'hih nitd's yAm, ni pd'yan. m'p nik6'skusim; nitai'siAm aptd'hsus s sehlkj'hsih. payi'Atd"'yan, me'?tilc-8 nip6'sihaw. naha'w, nikcg'wdm. payiAtd'yan ahlci'hih, ini? wiwj' was eyan, ke — wt yan. payiAtd'yan, ne-'mat kAna'mehtsiw pi'w. 'h&'w, kAs nitsipd'hkim,' nitiind'nihtAn. hiiw, mitsimZ'hseh uhlci'kAn, U~sd'hpehkun, usi'kAn, m&'wow ni/c'skahan; ahlka'hlkuh nip5'%adn. uhpad'ni'Ak mi8i'lk nipona'wAk ahkcd'hkuh; mA~ki'hkiwa'puh misi'k nit'to-ihtun. hd'w, ini2-pi'h ng'MAt payi'At; nAmd'2sAn pi'ndw, mitd'tah mamd'h-a?8ilca'nan. 'hd'w, tsipd'hkinun!' nitti'kuah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 883 Once upon a time a man said to me, "Come, let us go hunting; you shall have a horse to ride." "All right!" I answered him. "All right, we shall start tomorrow morning," said he. "All right!" I said to him. Early in the morning I arose; I prepared my gun, my deer-torch, my lunch, and everything, to take with me. Then I went to my friend who had the horses. When I got there, I said to my friend, " All right, here we are!" "All right," said he; "This horse you shall ride. There is the saddle; go saddle it," he said to me. So I took the saddle and saddled the horse. "All right," said he; "Come on!" So I mounted and started off, and, riding at a really fast pace, just before sunset we arrived at the lake for which we were bound; there we were camping. "Well, let us first eat a bite," said my friend. "All right," I answered him. I unpacked my lunch and set it out. He, too, brought his and set it out, and we ate. When we had finished eating, we went from there. There were two lakes. I went to one, my friend to the other, to hunt with the jack-light in the dark. When I got to the lake, I came upon a dug-out canoe lying there. "Well, this is what I shall use." I set to work and got it ready; I launched it. Then I embarked. It was already night; I got my jack-light into good shape so that it would be good when I used it. When I had done, I set out paddling. As I paddled along, I heard a noise in the water. "There, a deer!" I thought. I went to the place. A short ways, and I saw a deer standing in the water. I took up my gun and shot it. It fell in the water. "There, he's dead!" Soon the wind began to blow hard; I was unable to direct the canoe. So I went on shore and slept. Early in the morning I woke up; I went to where the deer was lying. When I got there, I lifted it into the canoe. Then I went back. When I landed, I made up my pack and went back to camp. When I reached camp, my friend had not yet come. "Well, suppose I cook," thought I. So then I cut up the meat, neck-piece, back, and haunch; I set it to boil in the kettle. I also put potatoes into the kettle. And I made tea. Then my friend came; he brought fish, ten large bass. "Go ahead; cook!" he told me. 3 34 34Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xi] ha'w, nit~ti'hpinaw, kICalc's8ahaic m4'ts-a~sj'kAn n.,ma'25. mitdi'tah ni lcdkdi'sqahaWAk- mdi'waw, mitd'tah ahkd3'hkuih ma-'waw p6'nakua2. kd'2ts-t~i p&'hlkiyen. nj'MAt nipd'W; tipdh di'hkwah IcAn ukcgs-nipa-'nan. hj&'w, Icay~~isi'ahki yen, ini'-pih me~tiku'ahSAn nip6'hlkunanAn; ahlci'hih mini s a'?tawan; mjtsim~'hseh ini? wahk~'s s a'2tawan; md'wa niw nAMa'?sAlc, md'wa niw ini? as a~na'kn-,.a?; -uhpd'niAk md'wa niw ini? s a'?na'kua?; pahki'silcan niktd'?naw. ni/cu'! apu,'ahsulkAn Ct'wiw k6'hko58; nikit't ap-a'AhsulcAn h&'wi~w piin~'h. m6'skinepi'w MAskic'hkiWAp~u.h; y& 'hpits misiw4'piu'; nie '2ni 8?sikcWAn ci'wiu' hi'n~uh niti'hlkehk'it'naw m'As8ki'hkiwa'p'uth. hd&'wi. inih t'ih ni'kut m~tsi~n~hseh s 1c8-andi'ran, mit&hq'tah ni's-inj'h si'2sik-WAn di'wiw inuk ahlkd'h,. hii'w, misi'lk nAmd,'2sAlc as k,3wOs-a,'Iua?, mtiti'tah ni'sin~hsi'2silwan h&'wi'w wi'nah ap. h&'w. iad"~wat ni.c,3'-a~twnA Atu 'pwAn. ini2-pih nj'MAt di'yen ats nipet't. 'hd'w!' jwd'h as 5nei't. nip~'w 1kay&s-1CUApaha'man, niti'wih-nditam5'wivw as lkisi'?nind'hmZ't~simZ'hseh, namd'2sAkc, uhpA'niAk, pahlki'sikkn, k~hkc6's, MASlki'IzkiwApuh, ini? mdi'waw di'htahneh. hd'w.. rni'tsihsiyah., ni'mat m4'nawats m 'tsihs 5w. 'M' w, ni?a't, ini'? ni'nah; wvdwd'nin nap6'p as8 k&s-mind'yan,' na/di'w, ini? wi'nah ne'MAt as nipei't. Idi'w, nina'h teh kAna'Mehtsiw nitd'pinim; mitsi' niw nilc&'taw-mi'tsihsim. m tsim Z'hseh mii'waw nikce'tdn, uhlc&'nan ini'? niw as a'?tekin. h&'w, nAMd'?8AIC m&'wa niw nilcd'taMU'AWAlc, uhlk&'nan ini'? niw; as a?te'lcin. pahlki'silcAn, pime'h, mA8ki'hkiwap~h, nap6'p, nAmad'?s.-n~apo'p, mdi'wa niw, ni?d't, nik~sm'h~i' nwt&'h ni'mate nhiw, nap6'pawmi y'wtsi'hsusnap6'pv pk'y6',' ahldi' nitkk'hpinaw.hpt';'k'a-idm' v' ~mt nahd&, lkAn, ld'k6h; mni'wawknik#ns-lit&'n np'w 'nianiw hd.h& hwdi'n? Zi'sikd'h?' w.ih nhap'w tsiy'ap'w nma's-,napo'p pji'W nah&'w, nit 6t&'hpinaw iu hlih 'hd'w, ini? ma'waw; nilk&-k-itd'n nap6'p.' 9hJP, lui'ni? di'sikd'h? lkipai'mdtesiAMit? ' nitii'kuah n~' mat. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 35 So I took a big bass and scraped it. I scraped all ten and put them into a kettle, cooking a big meal. My friend slept; he had not slept all night. When I had finished my cooking, I broke off some twigs; I placed them on the ground, and the meat on top of them; there I laid all the fish, and all the potatoes; I set out the bread. There was one skillet of pork, and a skillet of butter. The tea was full, entirely full to the brim; of three quarts was our kettle of tea. And the kettle in which I boiled the meat was of twelve quarts, and that in which I boiled the fish also was twelve quarts. So now I had completely set the table. Then I went to where my friend was sleeping. "Come, get up, let us eat!" I said to him. "All right!" he said, and got up. After drawing some water, I went and helped him wash his hands. When he had washed his hands, my friend and 1 ate. Meat, fish, potatoes, bread, pork, tea, all this was the number of things. At our meal my friend ate little. "Well, friend, that will be all for me; thanks that I have drunk broth,"1 said my friend; "I am going to sleep some more," said he. "Very well," I answered him; "I shall keep on eating, my friend," I told him. So then my friend, for his part, went to sleep. But as for me, I had not yet enough; I was bound to eat some more. I finished all the meat, so that only the bones were left. Then I ate up all the fish, until only the bones were left. Bread, butter, tea, broth, fish-broth, all of it, my friend, I ate. And I still wanted to eat. When I had finished it all, my friend woke up. "Well, bring some tea; I want a drink," said my friend. "Why, there isn't any; I finished it," I told him. "Oho!" said my friend; "All right: then bring some broth, some of the broth of the deer," said he. I took up the kettle. "Why, there is'nt any; I ate up all the broth," I told him. "Why, what has happened here?" he asked; "Well then, bring some fish-broth; I am very thirsty," said my friend. So I picked up the kettle. "Why, it's all gone; I ate up all the broth." "Why, what has been happening here? Are you still alive?" my friend asked me. 1 Usual formula of thanks after eating. 3* 36 36Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini?-pih nayi'pi~tAt as pi'At t-s~napd'htsikcet; m6'sah ahlki'hlcul ape'wAJC. uhlcd'nan m6'sah a?te'WAn. h&', ni'rnat kAn uwi'hliht65'nan s 1kAta'w-1ki'kitit; m&'mahlcAt&'nihtAm ne?,si'h as mi'tsihsi'yen. naw#jna'2s ni's tipii'hilkan lkAn uwi'hkiht6'nan s lkAtd'w-ki'kitit; lejs-sd'lkisiw ng'mat. ha? td'h, ni'nah tah wvi'nah, nimd,'hnuu-is,'kim, ma'nawats mi'tsihsi'yen. ini'?, ni~a't, kay~s-is8'ki yen nik6'tds3 s lk~s-utske'h-pimn&'tesiyen, IkAna'mehtsiw as wie-kimiwdi'yan., nawina'2s8 mitdi'tah ntkfttu'As8itahen~' pip6'n as Ct'wiyAn. ini?-pih, ni~a't, aya'wik ~h-y5'm aydtsimi'?tunan, ni?a't, s a-kcehkj'naman. ini'2 nilk6'tds kay~'s-is kiyAn. kim~'nin teh inih &'tsim'un. 32. NEHTSIWIHTUK RECEIVES A SIGN FROM THE SPRING-GOD. (nehtsi'wihtulk) nahd'w, nik5'tdis as piM&'tes3iyAn, urn4'? lea y's-i~ekliyAn; nile&'taw-a'tsimim; nj'mAt nilka'ta-w~htam5'wdw, jh-y5'hpih as a-kehlei'nah; ini'? lcd'taw-y6h-a'tsimi'yen. nalke'siyAn, nilcu't lce-a'wiw ninitsi'An-eh;tkiPs~hseh kg-s-d'wiw. hdAw, nilkota' as ii'wik, mni?s les-matsi yen as pahpe-'si yen; rnpa'slkitsi'silkAn nit&'wat5n. leuti'?nas, lk~nimdw ne'?niw mitd'tah tepei'hiklan d'wiw, lea y's-isiyAn s3 pahp~',SiyAn. leAn ldi'leh nike-s-awaitOnAn as mi'tsihsiyen. piipim6'hneyAn, aw.Z'h-pahp~'siyen, naya,' wallile leute'?nas mi'hileAnih ini'? as nii'MAn nipz'w. inim-nfi'lsinud'hkiwiw; aya'pehtaw as di'wile inih as nii'hsim4'hkeiwile, nip~'w ins? s ndt'MAn. ini'? as uhtd'le nip~'w nit'hsinud'hlkiah. sipi'ahseh &'wiw; ini? wdh-pi'mAleah, wahleit&'hleiah, inih nipj'w. ini? as misd'hsineyan as mind'yAn nip~'w, ts'?napa'htaman s pi'Imaleah nip~'w. hMw, ini'? dna'nihtA'MAn: 'nima'hsh niles-wZ'htAmAk as malenahd'nisiyAn: "lha'w, n5'hsihs3eh,, leikd'taw-we-Yhtamun: awa'tule asi'w gh-y5'm nip~'w wiih-pi'maleah," le's-Zwi-h nima'"hs~h.' ini? dna'~ni/tAmAn: 'leAn keAna'pats awd'tule uts-'nan Z'h-UMAS wah-pi'maleah yd~m nipZ'w. hii'w, hM' pinah ne?ni'maw lkas nipa-'leite'na-w jh-umA's nipi'h~ih; awd'tule leAs nnrte'naw. lesspin utt$'hpinA 'tsin j'h-Anu'm ne?nimei'WAn, j'h-UMAS n'ijjnhih y'sa-wd'w~yA'lei?tAt; anii'miah nipi'hih aw-i'siw. uta'hpinA'tsin, ini? s a-~peht&'man kd'?tin. lei'sgpin unm'naleah iSi'At nu,'alk6w, leAn avd'tule ule'tew-i'nan.' mni? dnd'nihtaman. ini'?-pi6h wdta'hpinfAk nina'?nimam; nita'?sileAn nit~ti''hpinAn s ki'skisuAle ne?nim&'w. nipi'hith inu''? as pO'flAl. ini? s dyalci'htsih. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 37 Thereupon he rose to his feet and came and looked things over; only the empty kettles were there. Only bones were left. My friend was speechless; he was dumbfounded by the amount I had eaten. For about two hours he was unable to utter a word; my friend was frightened. But as for me, I felt fine, as though I had eaten but a little.1 That, my friend, is what once happened to me when I was a young man, before I was married, when I was perhaps sixteen years old. At that time, my friend, occurred that which I have told you, that you, my friend, may know it. That is how I once fared. And I make you a present of this story.2 32. NEHTSIWIHTUK RECEIVES A SIGN FROM THE SPRING-GOD. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) Now, once in my life this is what happened to me; I shall tell the story; I shall tell it to my friend here, that on this day he may know it. That is the reason I am going to tell it. I was twenty years old at the time; I was married, I had a wife. At that time when I was twenty years old, I had one child; it was a girl. Now at one time I had gone off to hunt; I had my gun with me. To some place, perhaps thirty miles it was that I had gone on my hunt. I had not taken along anything to eat. AsI walked about, off there on my hunt, at noon somewhere by the road I saw some water. It was a hillside; halfway down the slope was where I saw the water. There from the hillside the water was welling forth. It was a little brook; its water came from the high ground there. There I seated myself and drank and watched the water come forth. Now this was my thought: "My grandfather told me when I was little: 'Grandchild, I shall tell you: a spirit dwells where this water comes forth,' said my grandfather." Now this was what I thought: "Probably there is no spirit here, whence comes this water. Suppose I lay some tobacco into this water; suppose I give it to the spirit. If he accepts this -tobacco, it will spin about here in the water; it will go down under the water. If he accepts it, I shall believe that the thing is really so. But if it goes that way, downstream, there will be no spirit there." That was my thought. Then I took my tobacco; I took my knife and cut off a piece of tobacco. Then I placed it into the water. There it lay in the water. This power, manifested on several occasions, of superhuman feats of eating, is due to Nehtsiwihtuk's being an incarnation of a Thunderer. 2 As it is not traditional, but entirely his own, the narrator is free to hand it on without payment. Publications, Am-11e~rican Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'nahM'w, nimd'hs62, lkirn'nin j'h-ayum ne'2nimdw s aw-uh pu'fAyan!' ini?2 d'yAn. nik6tti8 s ii'wik, mini2 8a~yc*h s rnatst8kAt; Mh-y5's3 nipi'hih y6'2, skIcs-pim~'simit nmi'2ninuiw. ni'winuh kis-kia~t6'new Z'h-ummsnipi'hih; n'w~yau' s 'wilk y'm mipj'w,. u~5'2 s kUs-kehtdi'2 -tAt ne~nimdw, s ut&'hpinA'ts3in a'w~d'uk. 'ini2 s pehtei'man; Jdi'2tin awd'tuk asi'w Mh-y6's wdh-pi'makcah y6'm nip~w.' ini? 'idn'nihtctmAn. ini? dsilci'makah t~'-wmAs. hd'uw, ini'2-pih mayetits'yen awvh-pahp.Z'8iyen, piipim65'hne yen. lki'8eh d'hlwah 1kAnlkc'koh nimj'tsinan. sca~yd'h wainitipii'hkcsh, ~pim6'hneyan, in?"? s nd'MAn w~'kiWAm; kitsim5'hkumwn a-'wiwv wayt~kit. 'nah&'w, pinah kAt nitd'siA'M!' nitdind'nihtAn. ini? 8 na'wA1k kts3im5'hkumdin w~'kih. h&.'w, 'hel6w! ha'2-nak-ah dsi' yen?' nitd'lkuah inuh ind'niw. ~h&',I niAt' nitei'ndw. 'nildi'taw-nipa'rn y5'8 pa'sikukA,3i'wika'mikuh.' U'hiv',' Twii' ni'MAt. 'kAn kd'k-h nimi'tsinan, kIc~ih a'hkwah pim6'hniyan,' nitii'ciw ini2-pih tWewAn way~'htam5wd'tsi n; 'hii'w, ahsdi'min V'h-ayum ind'niw; kAna'mehtsiw me'tsihsow, 1cWseh d'hlkwah, as pim6'Anet,' ~wa'h, indi'w we WAn. 'ha'w,' jw&'h inuh mitd'muh, 'ninaw-ahsa-'nww.` ha'w, mni? as mitsihsi' yen. kay&s-mi'tsihsi'yen, nimat'tyA' m; pd~ikfkulAsmiW?'IAmilk nitdi'wih-nipdmir. wayii'pah mi'p sa?y'ih pi'w inuh ktsime3'hkumdin. mi'tsihsi yen, ini'2-pih mayatsi'yen. kisih d'hkuwah pim6'hneyan, kAn lkd'k~h rnim%'tsiI&wAn. payiAtd'yan, dsV'yen, min ae nipa yan, IcAn ldi'k6h nimi'tsihswAn. mi'Ip ini?-pih maya-Mi'yen, pahpZ'8i ye n; kiseh adIcwah kAn 1c4'k~3h nind'minan, pd'hsus, pind'w, wai'pu8, untd'wanik. wdni'tipdi'hkah, ini? s sadsehlj'hsine yam. ni's kWsikAt kAn k6Vlc6h nimi'tsihswAn. mi'p misi'k nima'tsiAM. 'Md'w, pti'ha3us nd'wAk, nmika'taw-pasketsV'suAw, tWt-mi'tsih4'lyAn!' mni? and'nihtAMAn. lcAn ka'k6h nindi'minan, ki'8eh di'hkwah pim6'hneyan; wdnitipd'hlcah, nipi'Am as wZ'kiyen. Iu'w, ne~ni'w lce'silAt kAn Icd'k6h nim9'ts8ihswAn. lui'w, ha'IyApe'yAn, Iud'w, ini'? dna4'nihtAmAn: ~nind'hs6'h nik&~wg'htamakc, nikd't&i d'wilc nilkd'taw-pu'Awi~tAm, niks's-ikuah.' hdi'w, ini? dind'nihtAMAn s a'yqpe'yAn. ne?nimei'w niki'skiswaw; slci'tiah niffi'naw ninad'?nMMAM s mehlcdwa-niMAk awd ituk, pu,'Awi?ta' y~n. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 39 "Oh, my grandfather, I give thee this tobacco that thou mayest smoke!" That is what I said. Then at one time it began to move; here in the water, here the tobacco began to swim. Four times it went in a circle round the water; and then in the very center of the water the tobacco went under, as the spirit accepted it. "Now do I believe it; truly a spirit dwells here whence this water comes forth." Such was my thought. That was what happened in this place. Thereupon I went from there, continuing my hunt, and walking about. All day I had eaten nothing. Towards dark, as I walked on, I came to a house; a white man was he who dwelt there. "Well, let me go there!" I thought. Then I saw the white man in his house. "Hello! Where are you going?" said the man to me. "I am going around trying to hunt," I answered him. "Oh, so that's it!" said he. "Please, friend," I said to him, "T want to sleep here in the stable." "Very well," said my friend. "I have had nothing to eat, walking all day," I said to him. "Why, then," said he to me, "you must take some food; come inside!" said he. Then he told his wife: "Come, give this man something to eat; he has not had anything to eat, walking all day," said he to his wife. "Yes," said the woman, "I shall give him food." So then I ate. When I had eaten, I left; I went to the stable to sleep. The next morning the white man came. "Now, friend, eat," he said. So I went and ate, as my friend gave me food. When I had eaten I started out. All day long I walked about without any food. When I got back to where I was camping, I had no food. In the morning I set out and hunted; all day long I did not come across a thing, - deer, partridge, rabbit, or squirrel. When night came I lay down and rested. For two days now I had had no food. The next morning I set out again. "Yes, if I come across a deer, I shall shoot it and have a meal!" was my thought. Idid not see any game, walking about allday; at nightfall I came to where I was staying. Now for three days I had had no food. Then, as I sat there, I reflected: "My grandfather told me that sometime I should suffer hunger; this he said to me." That was my thought, as I rested there. I cut off a piece of tobacco: into the fire I placed my tobacco, fixing my thought upon the spirit, in my hunger. 40 40Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] 'M'fw, nii'tam6'wina2! nikei'taw-mi'tsihsirnmmip,' mini 4'yan, wMhtam6'WAk awd'tulk. ini'2-pih ndpii'yAn. k5'slcnsg'yan, ini'2 sa~y4'h s wa'pah; nipa-sketei'sikAn nit~ta'hpinAn, mditsi'yen, pahpZ'si yen. naw~nd'2s a'pehtatepdi'hikan, ini? s rnf'WAk Mdets-awdihseh; me~tiku,'min mdi'k-mits8u'ah spd'myah. npct'slcets'swaw; pd'pehtsin ahki'hih,. h&'w. nita'siAM: md'ts-awii'hseh mi"i? as sehkj'hsih. 'ha'w, y5'? keh s mi'tsihsi' yen!' nis ~'m. 'ntta'2sikAn nit~ta'hpinAn; nki's8kiswaw. kay~s-p5'tawe'yan, ini? as a~ta'wan m~'simjhseh, kj'sisaman. lcayes-Ice-'sisa'man, ini? as mi'tsihsi'yen. 'nhdi'w, ini'? k-dh pim&'tesi'yen!' nitdndi'nihtAn. NW's6 i~nuh kAna'mehtsiw m6'hkaham. hd'w, ini'2-pih waye-'nan~'htsikce'yan awdi'hseh. mdi'1-tas~'?tayan, kAni'w kdh ni'w lad'kUh nay6'htaman s kiikit 3'wadk. nit&'2sikan nipdkite,'ndn. ayAna'piyAn, kAni'w 1&ih ni&w awd'hseh payi'tuhnet miy&' ni'nah as i'yen. ha'w, nipdsketsi'sikAn nita'td'hpinan; np&'sket~si'swaw; nimd'?, ni? ni'w! paJ'pehtsin. kii'w, ni's awd'hSAknind.'2nawAk, kAna'mehtsiw as m6'hkakah UWs6. ehcTi'w jni'? kdh wvdwd'nin,' nitdini'nihtAn, 's ndtam6'wit awdi'tuk piMdtesi 'yen!'f ha'w, ini'?-pih n~'was wei'sihtawan, matsi'yen. naw~nd'2s nis tij/i'hikan paypAta'yan, mni? s8 nd'WAk, s wi'kit kitsim5'hkumdn. hd'W, nita'SiAM; mitd'muh nind'wdw; ind'niw kAn Wi'yAk. 'kJ'W? teh ind'niw?' nitd'n~tw inuh miftd'muh. 'Y. awZ'h-anuhki'w s minidin~'wik,' jwd'h. 'h'w, awdi'hseh nikW's-ne~naw,' nitd',ndw. niMd'tSi'AM; ini'? as pi'tawan wZ'kih. ha'w, ini'2-pih tfI'hpuAn kay~'s-a?tuk. kdi'2ts-mini'nihtan Z'h-y5'm m~tsimZ'hsek,' Zuw-'k inuh mitd'muh. hd'w, kd'?ts-m'tsi hs8iyak, hM'w, ini'?-pih may-t~i'yen; mtisi'k awd'hsgeh nipi'ndw imis w6'kih mi'uwaw. Cniki'taw-Ic'uwdm ni'matak as i'tua?; pasikukAsi'w nildi'taw-nd'maydt~i'yen, n~kina'n6? payiAta'yAn, niw9'htam~wiiw nimi'tim6'hsem. 'awd'h8e1h ni's nikZ'8-ne?naw,' nitdi'ndw; 'pdsiku'kAsiw nipis-n&' niiw. kii'w, nisg'neh nna-witsi'wdw.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 41 "Pray, help me! I wish to eat in the morning," I said, telling it to the spirit. Then I slept. When I awoke it was near dawn; I took up my gun and set out to hunt. Perhaps half a mile, and I saw a big bear; it was eating acorns up in a tree. I shot it; it fell to the ground. I went up to it: there lay the big bear. "Well, now at last I shall eat!" I took my knife; I cut a piece from it. When I had built a fire, I put in the meat to cook it. When I had cooked it done, I ate. "At last I am saved!" I thought. The sun had not yet risen. Then I skinned and dressed the bear. While I was busy at this, suddenly I heard something make a noise. I laid down my knife. When I looked about, why, there was a bear walking straight up to where I was. I took up my gun; good, a hit! and it fell. So then I had killed two bears before sunrise. "Thanks be given," thought I, "to the spirit for helping me in my hunting." Thereupon I arranged my pack and set out. I had gone perhaps two miles, when I came to where the white man lived. I went there; I saw the woman; the man was not there. "Where is the man?" I asked her. "Why, he has gone to town to work," said she. "I have killed some bears," I told her. "Why, then," she said, "bring it here," she told me. I went and brought it to the house. "Very well," said she, "I shall cook; we shall have a meal." I was glad indeed, as the woman cooked. When she had finished her cooking, she set the table. "Come, eat," she said; "I shall eat, too; I am very fond of this kind of meat," she said. When we had made a hearty meal, I went off and brought the other bear to the house there. "Please," I said to her, "I want to leave my store here in your house." "All right," answered the woman. "I am going home to my people; I am going to get a horse," I told her. "Very well," said the woman. I set out, and when I reached our house, I told my wife of it. "I have killed two bears," I told her; "I have come to get the horse. My father-in-law will go with me." "Very well," said she. , I 2) 42Publications, Amer'ican Ethnological Society Vol. Xii mt'p nimaitsi'Aminaw. pyAtct'yah, pdsikcu,'kAsi'wAk we'wasiwA k;, nayoma'wAkc awa'hsAn, as pinaki'htua2. h7'w, mini Id~is ke-s-pimd'tesiye n; awd'1hseh ni's; mdndi't mitsim ~'hseh. nik6'tds ini? kayi~'s-is~ki yen, fli?A't. imi? mii'waw. 33. HOW RED CLOUD WOMAN GOT HER NAME. (MAslkwawii'nahkcWAt6k) nalu'w, as kjs-uhta'tesi'yen ni'nah, lkute'?nas k&s-aw~h-usZ'htaw wiv'kiwAmg'Ihseh n6'hkumeh. niki'ah ini'2-pih diwih-pi'htiket inis wv~kiwAmE'hsihs8ih. ini'? s uhtd'tesiyen. ini'? kdh as &yi't niki'ahk; no'1hkume/& kiw-aw~h-p6'awew misilk kiw-awjh-ts~pii'hkunew as mi' - tsiksin~it utii'nan. ne'2nuku'nakah ini'2-pih WAydp-ma'wAn, nikii'wit,3i'2simAk s niti-wd'makua2, misi'lk nip~'hsehkakan as a-mehki'lkah., misi'lc nisai'niped'nem as aw-meldc6'nit mlisilc kVsik as aw-is~nd-'kusit. lkAf nAna's nim ~'nikenan. ini'2-pih nilci'ah mayd'hnuw-it; mni'? as nit56nbd'tsin nuh we' y~wke'hlkun tsi-Ikiw-nin6'Ihtawatsin nitsi'Anun. ta'?, pi'w nuh we'yAwelceh. 'ta? d'siklc'yen, ahpii'n niw as m&'wan? kikc6'takihiiw lcili'ah.' 'ta'?, ikAn lkeh nimg'nikunu'wawan nik'iwitsi'siman misi'k teh nipe-'hsehkcakan misi'Ic telh nisd''nipii'niman. ini'? wivah as mni'wan. ke'spin icAn m~'sit niki'ah, nina-yai'h-mdi'tsiAm.' 'naha'w, p~n m6'nun, nuhsi'h. kinaw-mj'nik kilci'al& kikfiwitsi'?siman misilk kip~'hsehkcakan misik Icisd'nipa-'neman. p6'n tdA mo'nun.' ini'?-pih niki'ah ma'wa niw kayjs-m~'sit. ini'? as kjs-ani'h-md'wan. nawina' misik ini'? as kdi'?ts-wj'?s3akesi yen, misi'k as md'wan ahpdi'n niw. ini'?-pih Misi'Ik d'wih-nit6'mih nuh we' yAwekeh as pis'ta'?, icAn lkeI inih fliwi'hswAnl a'wiWAn, "kiisi'ahkiw";, kayd'nit ni'nah nitei'kdm.' 'ta? 6'I& tdh, nuhsi'h, dkldyen2' 'mAs~cwawa'nahkwAto'1k nitd'Idim ni'nah.' lin-? khaw-ikei'yen. p~n misi'k nik6'tuh mb'nun.' MPum'waw. 34. THE CHILDHOOD OF RED CLOUD WOMAN. (MAskwaw&'nahlkwAt~k) as uhti'tesi yen, nayi'AnAnu'kunalkah, ini?-pih kay&s-wvZ'?8akce'siyen,8saka'nah niw as nipaiyen, inih-pih niki'yah as ksninn'ti nikut we' yAwkehlko'hsAn kay&s-nin6'htawatsin nftsi'Anun. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 43 In the morning we set out. When we got there, the horses carried the packs, with the bears, as we brought them home. So now I was saved; two bears; there was plenty of meat. This was the way I fared once upon a time, my friend. That is all. 33. HOW RED CLOUD WOMAN GOT HER NAME. (Maskwawanahkwatok). When I was born, my grandmother had built a hut some distance away. Then my mother went off into this hut. There I was born. So there my mother remained; my grandmother would go there to make fire and to cook her daughter's meals. On the third day was when I began to cry, calling for shinneybags and for a red blouse and for red and blue silk ribbons. But I was not given these things. Then my mother got well; she called in an old woman who was supposed to understand the speech of infants. So that old woman came. "What ails you that you cry all the time? You are tormenting your mother." "Why, they do not give me my shinney-bags and my blouse and my ribbons. That is why I cry. If my mother does not give me them. I shall go back whence I came." "Very well; cease crying, little one. Your mother will give you shinney-bags and a blouse and ribbons; but cease crying." Then my mother gave me all these things, and I stopped crying. After a while again I became very sick and again cried all the time. Then again the old woman was called in to come and ask me why I wept. "Why, my name is not Kusiahkiwl: otherwise am I called." "Then what are you called, little one 2" "Maskwawanahkwatok (Red Cloud Woman) I am called." "Then so shall you be called. Do not ever weep again." That is all. 34. THE CHILDHOOD OF RED CLOUD WOMAN. (Maskwawanahkwatok) Five days after I was born, I fell sick almost to death, and at once my mother called in a certain old woman who understood the speech of infants. Revered-Woman? The name is borne by several Menomini women. 44 44 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kaye'S-piAt nuhwe' YAWekehko'hseh,.ta2 4`iki~c'yen? wdi'ki wdhwZ72sake'9i yen?' nitd'kzwahin as mdik-kd'9ts-w~-,'2sacesi yen.ini'win-pih ts3i-kd~ts-ayd'niyen. Iawd'tu,k-mitdi'muhsAkc ume'? as pis-ni 'puwitua?; me~tilku'ahseh nilci-pi8-ahpa'kttwAkvuk,` nitdin&'win inuhWj' yAlwjkeh; 'iniP wd'h a ki-Jdi~ts-&yd'niyen,' nitdn4'win nuhWe-' yAWekeh; ~misi'k teh nildi'witsi?! simak nik~s-pin&'wAk; CAfl teh nimj'nikunan niki'yah. misi'lc teh nip~'hsehka'kan Uis-mehki'kat as pis-mditsi'yen. y6's teh as -i'yen, kAn kdi'1kh nip~'hsehlkakan nui'hkikah.' 'nahd'w!' Zwd'hin inuh we~'ywdkeh; 'p~n w*Z'2salke'sinun; misib'k teh p6'n ki-m6'nun; kikd~'timahdiw kiki'ah misi'k teh kikd'kakikhiw. k-ina-m~'nik 1kipg'hsehkcalan mdi'hkilkah misi'k lkina-me-'nilk kWlc'wiltsi'2siman,' jwa'hin inuhWj' yAWjlkeh. ta'2, ini'win-pih mayii'tSiAt. ini'win-pih kay~s-md'hnuw-i'yen. lkawi'n nilc~s-we~'2sakesinan misi'lc kd'yas niw nZ'pitan tsi-kes-pi8-ta~c6n; nayd'mik nilki'ah, kdhts-mdi'win as sd'kisit as a-ni pd'yen. ta'n ini'win teh kay&s-mdi'hnuw-i'yen; 8a~ydh rnisi'k meftd'tahnu,'unayd'wik, iniwi'n-pih misi'lk kay.~s-we-'2salke'si yen, salca'nah niw as nipdI'yen. sa~yd'h ni'wukun kawvi'n nimi'tsihsinan; iniwi'n-pih misik ne~nima,'wAn mayi'kit niki'ah. ini'win as Ano'siwet as tsi'sa hkik. kayi's-pyAtua2 akci'lkh awd'tukAk, 'wdw~'pi~tah as a-mitcd'wihAt! ki'8pin pdi'tsi~ta yam, ini'2 niw s a'-nipdk. ini'? pis-Ikikh-mAmd't8i2 -ini'win-pih niw wayd~w~'pi?tAt as mitd'wit niki'ah. kasy~s-kj'si~tat, ini'win as kjs-mdi'hnuw-i'yen. ha'w, mi"i? leh 'as kUs-ma'hnu-pemd'tesi yen. na yi's-pep5'nakesi yen, ini'2-pih niki'ah kay6's-nipdkc, n6'hne kayd'nituh s we'kimiwdt. mi"i? teh ni'nah as k8-lkitdmd' kesi yen. m6'h kumeh kAn nik~s-sawd'nimi'kunan misik nirti'h, nilci'ah uhsig'mehsAn. as tsip&'hkit nini'h imiP tsiw-isi'yen. apu'ahsukan as kisi'Apehklitdk mi"i? tsi-pak&'mit nihk&'tih; mis~wd' niwv ini'h nihkiit 'nikes-ki'sisim. as ki-wg'wahpit~k n6'hkumeh imi'h nihkdt, ini"?-pih t8si-ki-kd'2tsdiyay4'nit inu'h ninih, kay&s-ahpi'ts-kutii'kihitua'?. MAt8Z"?-up5"?sehmcawitua'? mdftts-nip9'hsehkakan as Wiwik. mini? ahpii'n kay&s-ihpd'matua'?. kahpi'h kehk*jn5'hamt3'wik5w kay&s-utdi'hpenit kehlcin6'haMAtj'wikamik~uh, ini"?-pih kaye8-w9'skiwad'hkin nip6"?sehkaka'man.d&'nu n6'hne'?niki-m~'nikpipi'kewiydi'nn muwa'nan sinliwmahk&'mikuk winu'a'?, as ki-p6'?sd'hkakua'? mis8i'k. kAn nikiw-ah8d' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 45 When the old woman came, "What is ailing you? What is the cause of your illness?" she asked me, as I lay in pain. Then I laughed out loud. "Spirit-women have come and are standing right here; they have come andthrown down a stickforme,"they say I told the old woman; "That is why I am laughing and laughing," I am said to have told her; "And my bags for the double-ball game I brought hither when I came; but my mother does not give them to me1. And my jacket was of red cloth, when I set out to come hither. But when I arrived here, I had no jacket of red cloth." "Very well!" that old woman is reported to have said; "Be ill no longer, and do not weep; you are making your mother unhappy and tormenting her. She will give you your jacket of red cloth, and she will give you your bags for the double-ball game," she said. Then she went away. Then, they say, I recovered. I was ill no longer. And from the first, it seems, I had teeth; when my mother saw them, she burst into tears, fearing that I should die. So then I recovered; but when another ten days had passed, again I fell ill and almost died. For four days I had not taken food; then my mother again made an offering of tobacco. She called for the help of a spirit-seer. When the spirits had come, "Hasten to have her participate in the medicine-rite. If you delay, even now she will die. She brought it with her when she came to dwell here in human form," my mother was told. Thereupon my mother made haste to take part in the medicinerite. When she had done so, I became well. From that time on I lived in good health. When I was two years old, my mother died. After her death my father went to live with people elsewhere. Then came a wretched time for me. My grandmother knew no pity for me; neither did my aunt, my mother's younger sister. I must have gone to where my aunt was cooking. With a hot roasting-pan she must have struck me on my leg; I was burned all over my leg. When my grandmother bandaged my leg, then greatly would my aunt laugh, such was the extent of their cruelty to me. In their cast-off clothing they dressed me; and they would laugh at me because my jacket was too big. That was the way they always treated me. When the teacher received me into the school, I had good clothes. In vain did my father use to give me blouses and shawls; those women simply took them away from me and used them for their own wear. They did not properly feed 1That is, she had brought with her to this earth the spiritual essence of the shinney-bags and other things, and it was necessary now that their material substance be supplied from the ordinary sources. The same is true of objects received in dream-visions. 46 Th Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xi] mikunu'wawan. 1kay~s-mi'tsihsitua'awin, in1i'2-pih mii'waw iki-mAma,'kuoa2 ii's Atii'hpwAnih inih ki-mi'tsilcua2. 'naha-'w, mdtsihsi'nun!' ntiki'wv-ik~lk. nih payi'wahtdi'hkua? ni's atgi'hpw,.Anih ni2 kiw-a'2sikinaman md' - nawats as ki-mi'tsihsiyen; mnisi'k nayd'nikutuhkin inih apu,'ahsulkan as pim~'wikc ni2 kiw-ahpd'kinatua2 uhpd'niAn ni's. 'nah&'w, niti'hUWAta'h inih apau'ahsukan!' niki 'w-ik~k. min'? keh as mi'tsihsiyen. misi'k ibayd'nikutuhkin ne~nvu'kun kAnA nUkiw-ahsa'mikunu 'wawan. ak~u'At~sih nikiw-imni'sihukcuk as ki'w-a~sikindt'hne yen, mehs'hSAVm (a5 kiw-dyi'watawanl. ta'?, kAn mi'n niw ka'k~h nimin'hkesinan kiwTi-'wiwan; niki-ydi'hpits-kds~k&'hkitsindmi; nis8'tan niki-wV~'2sakesimt. ki'sih di'hkivah as ki'w-asiki'naman mehs e' wan. nik6'tds ni 'wu~kun sa~ydth kAn nai,'hsamikuinuwd'wan; ta"?, niyn' awi~tam; ini'-pih ninah ma ydtsi'yen 1cesi'?neh as~ isi'yen. nimdf'hs~h AtdiWa'wikamilcu~h a'nuhkiw. nitv~'htam~wdiw: 'nahd'w, nime~hs6'2, sa?,Yd'h ni'wukun kAn rtita,'ksqamikd'nan; y6'? teh nye'nanu'kun as d'wik,' nitd'naw. k-a~sk'nihtAMn nimii'hs~h. saw'wiinhkwAt kj's-ini-7w; ke~ts-indini'Ahs~eh kj',s-& 'wi~w. ni '2-pih pahki'sildi'hsAn 'i'hamit, nAMas e'hAn, s65'pumnthk5'h8An. kay~s-mi'tsihsi yen, 'nahsi'w, nuks%', ni'kinan6'? awjh-an uhki'fnUn. k6'hkumeh wj'2sake'siw; kina-pimd'niiw. ni's sii'n yen kina-m~' nin niutandi'mihe-k 'sikAt, niti'kwah nimd'hs~h. nimdini'nihtan as nit6'mit. ta"?, ini'2 kcih as awMdt-iyi'yen at'yanuhki'yen, as md'hnuh-mi'tsihsiyen; misi'k- IAn nik6'tuh wi yk nitdyit'ne~nikunan. pipftn.di'hkwah ini'9, as lkand'wihitua2 misi'k ni'pin dt'hkwah. ini'2-pih teh kayj's-nipdkc inuh n6'hkumeh. ini'2-pih teh kayes-, kewa yen; a'nu, ahp&'n niw niki-pis-nit6-'mikuk aki'kuh maydkkanii'wihitua?. ini'2-pih teh misi'k kayes-waI'pakhtaman. IcAf wi'nah y5' k0~s-is8kinun y6'hpih dt'siki'makah kehkin6'hamAt~wikamik. k*js-d'yuhtsiWAk iWk'1wa2 nitsi'Anuk. wa-'2naw nikiw-isyA'minaw tahnad'nuh mi'p, as ke'2sqik as k~nC2'vik, as kiw-,awjh-wii'pahtamah. kAn nik6'tuh nini'man nik&s-mj'nikenan;, ki'sih di'hkwah nikiw-awjhPu 'awi?tam kehkin6'hmAti'wikamikuh. misi'k kay~wd'yanin, nd~'hkahkin. 'nip~'w nawva-W-n&'tih!' niki'wikdm. ta"?', niki-nd'tin. kayes-pi'yAnin, 'a?,sikindi'hnenun!' ta'?, mi'sik nikiw-a?sikinli'hnem. kay~s-pi'yAnin, 'p~tawe'nun;- uhpdni'Ak'kina'w-apim! kini's as a-td'pini yen. nitc~s-kiktnud'kesim. 1928 Bloonfield, Menomini Texts 47 me. When they had finished their meal, they would take away from the table all of what they had to eat. "Eat!" they would say to me. The crumbs and remnants of their meal I would pick up from the table for my scant fare. Or else, at times, they would throw a couple of potatoes into a greasy frying-pan. "There, lick that pan!" they would say to me. So that would be my meal. Sometimes for three days they would not give me food. They used to drive me out of doors to pick up faggots and drag firewood into the house. Meanwhile, I had no shoes or moccasins: I would get all scratched by the brambles; I always had sore feet from gathering firewood all day. Then at one time for four whole days they had not fed me; of course, I was famished; thenI left, and went toKeshena. My grandfather was working in the store there. I told him of it: "Oh, Grandfather, for four days I have been given no food; today is the fifth day," I told him. My grandfather was pained at this. Yellow Cloud was his name; a little old man was he. So then he gave me some crackers to eat, and sardines, and candy. When I had eaten, "Now then, Grandchild, do you come to our house and work there. Your grandmother is ill; you will nurse her. I shall give you two dollars every week," said my grandfather to me. I was glad of his invitation. So now I went there to stay and work, and was properly fed; and no one ever scolded me. All winter they kept me there and all summer. Then my grandmother died. So then I went back home. Indeed, they had not ceased to call me back to them, they who now were keeping me. Then I again went to school. School was not at all the way it is today. The children came every day from their homes.l A long distance we would go every morning, in the cold and through the snow, to school. I was never given any lunch to take along; I would go off and be hungry all day at school. When I came home in the evening, "First fetch water!" I would be told. I would fetch it. When I got back, "Gather some faggots!" So then I would gather faggots. When I got back, "Build the fire; you are to bake some potatoes!" It was a long time before I could appease my hunger. I was wretched. Today both of the reservation schools, government and Catholic, are boarding-schools. 48 48Publication~s, American Ethnological Soqiety Vol. XI] ki~s-utsip~'wi~nisiw inuh keh~cn5'ham~wik~w; k~xn nik6'tuh ukUsm6'hkuman.7wi?nisinan; ni'? teh m&'waw 1kayZ's-is-ninfi~htahkua2 rntsi'Anu1k. hd'i'n mas j'nahikan nikis-nind'minaw as kehke-n5'ha,m6'wiyameh, ta' 2, 1CAf teh nindi'nuahtAni 'nawan inihk mias 'nahikan. WZ' yAWekehlco'hseh kUs-d'wiw. naha'w, nil~tii's niw nike-s-pis-nid'nik n6'hne2. antse'like ini'2 as Ic s-w~' kit n6'hne2. ni'2 tepii'h m5'hkumdi'n kayj8-isj' kit n6'hne2?. h&'w, ini'? N8kds1c'1an&'wihit. ni? sa~ydh metii'tah ne~ni'w-inC' pep6'n as &t'wiyen; ini2-pih nuh wdi'mehtik5's3~w pis-w~'htam~uwd'tsin n6'hneAn as kAta'w-kaana'wihit. ini'2 WMt n6'hne?: 'pas wj'8kiWAt, nitli'h, ~i'h-ayum as pas wj'kimat w1'mnehtik6',si'w. wi skiw-ind'niw &d'wiw,' nitd'kuah na'hne9. 6.,A nitd'naw, 'kAn ki'nah kikNs-kand'wih~nan as pis-md~'mik-niw as kitiima'kesiyen, niki'ah as kj'8-nipdk. iCAn inih pas is~'kinun; kAni'w n6'hkumeh nih aw-i'tah, ni'2 aw-isV~'ta yen.' 'lkil-d'timahik inuh k6'hkumeh; UMA~'S teh winak kina-kehkdi'te,3im; kina-mdi'hnu-mi'tsihsim; a-mdrnd'tun k-ip6'2sehka'kanan; kmn nik6'tuh k&'k~h kinaw-awdt'minan.' A'k~n keh inih pas isj'kinun nih Ikinah dna'nihtaman. nisa? 'wd'h as na'-si yen!' nitdi'ndiw n6'hne2. aku'atsih nitd'siAM; ni2-pih pis-mdtsi'yen kesi'2neh as pis8-kjwd'yAn; n6'hkumeh nipi8-wZ'htam~wa-w. 'mitsi' niw n'tsiAn lcit&'wim; kAn pas kiwe~kimiwd"'nan; lkimdkwa'pahtan,' niti'kuah. wd'htsitaw nimdA2ni'nihtan inih as it&'h n6'hlcumeh. in~i'?-pih misi'lc aya'tslcWAt nikut pep6'n kay~s-w&'pahtaman. nikut kVso62 ne~nu'Ikun nikiw-awMh-w&'pahtan, as lkiw-anuhki'hit n6'hkumeh. nikut pepe5'n ayd 'wik, ini'2-pih misi'k pis-nit6'tamuh ni'nah s a-wi~'kimiwdi'yan. ha-7w, nikjs-td'?takatsim: nimdk-wd'pahtan. i'ni?-pih tsi-kjs-kim5'timitua? nZ'ne?. ini2-pihMrAski'hkiah tsikUs-a'?tukua? inih nZ'ne?; ini? teh ni'nah am kUs-kiwand'hpineyAn. ni? as ki-pim6'hnet inuh?ini'niw, imi'2 as ki-n6't8pine'&ak, wd'ht~itaw as ki-kd'?t8-usi'mit. payiAta'yanin wj'k~wa2, ini2?-pih ni kikaska'pehkaha'hku~a? inih isku'ahtem. nikjs-kuta'kilhikuk. 35. THE SJMJLA BI TY OF OJIB WA AND MENOMINI. (John V. Satterlee) nik~s-titdi'pin~e'mipah wdtsipi'wihneh masinii'hkAtew, mnis asd'u stWhtikAt~k utawd~'wAk as i'tua?, ha'rpr 8pri'ngz, mil'sign. nikZ'8 -tdh-p6'nihtun; ta'?, tepei'hika'tdw. m1i'? teh ni'nah as ke-s-nd'man, as i8-neno'htAmAn: anum mamd'tsi?ta&w-innd'm a nwd'htimA'kAtun. ha'neh ki'kituAnan nesldi'n ni kAn tepi'h niw iniwa"'wAn. uk6'2 -8indi'htimaka'tun. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 49 Our teacher spoke Ojibwa; she spoke no English at all; and that was all the children learned to understand. To be sure, we read a book' in school, but we did not understand what that book said. She was a little old woman. Then at one time my father came and got me. At Angelica was where my father lived. He had property just like a white man. So then he took care of me. By this time I was thirteen years old; then a certain Frenchman came and told my father that he wanted to marry me. This is what my father said: "It would be a good thing, Daughter, if you married this Frenchman. He is a good man," said my father to me. "Oho," I answered him; "You did not care for me when I was most wretched and helpless, after my mother's death. This thing cannot be; wait, and whatever my grandmother says, I shall do." "That grandmother of yours kept you in misery; but here you will be rich; you will always have enough to eat; you will have many clothes; never will you want for anything." "This thing you have in mind cannot be. So this is why you fetched me!" I told my father. I went from the house; I set out and went back to Keshena; I went and told my grandmother about it. "You are still a child; you cannot marry; you are still in school," she said to me. I was very glad when my grandmother said this. So then again, for the last time, I went to school for a year. Three days a month I would go to school, as I worked for my grandmother. At the end of a year, again they came and asked her for me, that I might marry. But I was unwilling; I was going to school. Then it was that they fnust have obtained by stealth a hair of my head. Into some medicine they must have put that hair; and then I went out of my mind. Wherever that man walked, I would follow him, and he would try hard to get away. Whenever I came to their house, they would lock the door. They tormented me. 35. THE SIMILARITY OF OJIBWA AND MENOMINI. (John V. Satterlee) I used to take an Ojibwa newspaper printed at Harbor Springs, Michigan, where the Ottawas dwell. I have given it up, however, for it cost money. And that was where I saw it and came to the understanding of it: these Indian languages are related. Some words sound almost alike. They are like brothers and sisters. An Ojibwa translation of the Bible. 4 IL. SONGS. 4* Publication&. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 36. MOCCASIN-GAME SONG. (Jerome Lawe) Ikg'nimunaw kWs-mdtsi'w; we' yAwj'keh d'WiApah. 37. DREAM-DANCE SONGS. (mehtsi'wihtu.k) na'ndhuna 1C na 'ndhkunawej', na nalna-kuna wjeY, av a'na'ndhkuna wj't6hcwac rua nah-cunawZ n', dna nahkunaw#g nj'! ad'na'mihkunawg n'! hd' na'ndihkun~awg', na nahkunawe n e'! 2. nanawvinalcii'wina nj'puwina ng'puwind ng'fpuwind- AZ' ng'!1 nanawinakii'wina ng'puwin&l ng'puwind ng'puwind he-'?! nanawmsnki4'wina ng'puwinii ng'puwind nz'uwm A'ne'! nanawinalcu'wina 38. SONGS USED IN THE PEYOTE CULT. (nehtsi'wihtukc) 1. ha h9 hay wi tsi ka wi nd ha YA Wi tsi Idih 9 ng 9 nj 6 wj. I Informant interprets: pyA'n~un; ne'ps2 UMA'a8. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 58 36. MOCCASIN-GAME SONG. (Jerome Lawe) Our sister-in-law has gone away; A great old crone was she. 37. DREAM-DANCE SONGS. (Nehtsiwihtuk) 1. He is shown resistance, He is shown resistance, Oh, he is shown resistance with whom I go! He is shown resistance, He is shown resistance, hey! Oh, he is shown resistance, hey! Ha, he is shown resistance, He is shown resistance, hey! Ha, he is shown resistance, hey yoh way! 2. Right in the midst of them all Do you stand, do you stand, do you stand, hey yay! Right in the midst of them all Do you stand, do you stand, do you stand, hey yay! Right in the midst of them all Do you stand, do you stand, do you stand, hey yay! Right in the midst of them all Do you stand, hey yay oh way! 38. SONGS USED IN THE PEYOTE CULT.1 (Nehtsiwihtuk) 1. Hah hey ha yo wi tsi kah wi no, Ha yo wi tsi kah, Ay nay ay nay oh way. 1Said to be in the Pawnee language. 1 4 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 2. hM na wi n5 hI na wi n6 hi yA nd hi nj hi nj h6 wj. 3. hay na ha wj hi n6 hay n6 hay na hi yh rn. 39. WAR-SONG. (Jerome Lawe) we nanihah kW'sananihah! 40Q SONG-FRAGMENTS. (Jerome Lawe) I. kjkah ayd-nind, kjkdh aydninj, kjkdh ayanine... 2. sawan'alkayaneh, sawanakyaneh... 41. LO VE-SONGS. (Jerome Lawe) 1. k~pin ninah mdnniiyanekesp'in ninak m2ndnfyvaeb, y6sa2 6?h tsdw-uhtdnimsyyan, yrm w~ski, nine-mosdw, ke-sp'n ninah mdnU-ya-neL. hay! 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 55 2. Hah na wi no, Hah na wi no, Hee yo nah, Hay nay hay nay hoh way. 3. Hay na ha way, Hey no, Hay no hay na hee yo nah 39. WAR-SONG.1 (Jerome Lawe) Skinned and cut up And sliced to a finish! 40. SONG-FRAGMENTS. (Jerome Lawe) 1. When I was but a maid, When I was but a maid, When I was but a maid... 2. When I dance the Shawnee dance, When I dance the Shawnee dance... 41. LOVE-SONGS. (Jerome Lawe) 1. If I do drink, If 1 do drink, Lo, this must be why you are angry at me, This whiskey, Sweetheart mine, If I do drink. Hi! A song of triumph over the Sauks. Informant adds the anecdote: A Sauk boy who was captured and brought up by the Menomini, was overheard singing this song, so incongruous with his origin. Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xi] 85m4Winoh, 8oma-winoh, st~mdwin~h, 86mciwin~h, s35wdwindh,,s~miwinoh. aniwdk nik~th nuhkdwdns'miya-n, kcina-naw&~mim, n~nim~hs~wd. sc~mcwin6k,. 42. HUNTER'S CHARM. (Michel Beaupre) wdsawikitdih ndwahikjh. 43. JESTING SONG. (nehtsi'Vwihtuk) mdniyd nini't6mik, miiniyui ninii't~mikV (spoken:) wvasi'8! icAn p6'ts8 pA8 nita8"'Anan! I Informant interprets the refrain as: as8 a-mt6'k. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 2 As she will weep, As she will weep, As she will weep, As she will weep, As she will weep, As she will weep. Surely at some few times, When you remember me, You will lament me, Sweetheart of mine. As she will weep, As she will weep. 42. HUNTER'S CHARM.1 (Michel Beaupre) If I should see The brown-legged deer. 43. JESTING SONG.2 (Nehtsiwihtuk) Maria is calling me, Maria is calling me, Maria is calling me, hey! Maria is calling me, Maria is calling me, hey! (spoken:) Bosh! And I sure won't go! 1 Said to accompany a fawn-medicine. 2 Evidently of European origin. The word "wasis" at the end may be German. III. PRAYERS AND SERMONS. $0 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 44. THE THUNDERERS. (John V. Satterlee) anamiitsitaw as nehe~h-sisakdi'2sahtsi'kdt: ind'mehki'WAn~ pay'&' tiwx''kesini't~in ki-8ik&'2sam5'wdw, unda'2niMA'MAn as mininiha mniha'tsin, misi'k tiih k&kU'umA'tin sinauwi'2 niw as a-pi'pi'mpima'skcAnit. inj'2 teh Iciw-usej'2tAt salcc'2 sahtsika/w: alku'Ats ahki'hih awgh-paUc'tinew unei'2nimaman; Msi'k teh mi'nikutu'hkin iskii'tyah P6o'niiw. as sikd'28ahtst'kdtt, ndi'nikutu'hkin nij'2 ds-nd-nai'pi&no-htah, kayes-is-sawa'nimi'ku~t as aw-8awei'nuhtzdcu, n&'p pas a's-mins'kiMAkak: 'lui'w, kisa'ka?,eamu'nine'muAw, nimd'h8&md,'hsAk. snkauw~ ni,i pima's8kAkU~n, nimei'heamei'hSAk!' 46. PRA YER TO A MEDICINAL HERB.1 (neht8Viwihtu~k) wuay&'piskii'2nik. n~aMa'w, n~uhko6'2, uhput'Anun ayum ne~nimii'wu. sinaw&,'2 ni fli'-w. sawda'nimina2, ~'h-ayu~m n6'rnAt s kAWi'w-kehkc-'nah mmAki'hkiw. inuh n'A5hnsnaw ma'waw ldi'k~h kayes-,8Use'htuk wine"? kay&~-mindi'tin unitti'AneIhsAn y5's ahlci'hih, kaye-s-kj'sihtukc ~h-y6-'m ahkkw, s kUsnani'tsin unstsi'AnehSAn. ta"?, kAta'-teh-kehke'nam ayum ng'mat, wavh-a'wilk s pim~m-kehk~n5'ham6wAk. td'2, ind'nihtah-, ta'?, a-tepd'ham. sinawa-'2 niw as aw-in4'nimi'WisW'yah. ki'8pin lcAtd'w'wiyAn-nAnd'tawihd'tsin, a-nii'tamak5'wis8iwi as aw-ini-ye~h-ind'hnuw46. A PEA YER TO THE EARTH. (nehts8'wihtulk) 'n~ahd'w, rn??a't, wdwd'nin kikti'nin, ne~nim&'wv as MZ'8iyan, ka"'16h as kAta'Iw-n6'htaman ki'lkitUAn, nikii'muAn. yo6"? tdh dt'si0tAt ina-'Aiw, lkd'lk6h as kAtei'w-kehkgi'n~ah: tipai'ham. wi',yAk 1&i'k~h s kehdcilnah, ki-Ikulse'munaw as a-wj'htah. inj2 d'hkik. 1The herb was Trillium, the root of which is boiled for a liniment on swellings. Informant with his hands dug a small hole in the ground 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 61 44. THE THUNDERERS. (John V. Satterlee) The way the Indian is given to making offerings of tobacco: whenever the Thunderers are approaching with noise, he makes an offering to them, pleasing them with a gift of tobacco, and begging them to pass by in peace. And this is what the sacrificer does: he goes out of doors and lays down his tobacco; and sometimes he places it on the fire. When he makes the offering, then this is the way he sometimes chants, that they may take pity on him, even as they have in the past taken pity on him and blessed him, that things may go well with him: "Now, I make you an offering of tobacco, my Grandfathers. With gentleness go by, my Grandfathers!" 45. PRAYER TO A MEDICINAL HERB.1 (Nehtsiwihtuk.) 0 Grandmother, smoke this tobacco. Silence. Take pity upon me and help me, in that my companion here wants to know medicines. It was our Father himself who gave to his children here on earth all the things which he had made, when he had completed the earth and placed his children here. Now, my companion here wants to know those things, and that is why I am taking him about and teaching him. If he desires it, he will make payment for it. Silence, that we may be thus favored by the spirit powers. If he desires to doctor anyone, he will he helped by the spirit powers, that from this he may continue to have success. Amen. 46. A PRAYER TO THE EARTH. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) Now then, my friend, I say thanks to you for having given me tobacco, because you want to hear something in the way of speech and song.2 This is what a man does when he wants to know something: he pays for it. One who knows a thing is asked to tell it. That is all. close to the plant, filled it with about a pipeful of tobacco, and then, before picking the specimen, spoke as follows. 2 When, after several days in Nehtsiwihtuk's house, I had made him a present of tobacco and meat, he not only performed this ceremony, but also taught me the songs and allowed me, so far as he was able to restrain the tempo, to record his words. His opening sentence shows that he did not yet exactly grasp the nature of my quest, but understood me to seek religious knowledge. Those present were Nehtsiwihtuk, Maskwawanahkwatok, Joe Satterlee, and I. 62 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] kilc'timunin tdh, ni?a't: kina- w 'htam &'wim ta2 ka'taw-i8e'2tAyAn,. kdi'maw -s a-kAta'w-tipa'haMAn. ini'2 &'8is-kutsmune'nan; kinaw~'htamun, 1kj'spin kehkj'naMAn ini'h a-kutsi'musi' yan. nika-'tauttdih-nawdi'ts-isej'2tAM e'h-yom, ini'kuh dsis-pakcJtinam~w,' yam ne2 -ni'mdiw, misi'k tOh kitsip&'hkwAn has pak-j'tinam an. nah&'w, ni's tih nilc&'munan ninaw-nikd'mim. ayu'rn-d2 tdh ahkcj'w aw-~n5'htawak, wina'h ap tsi-kUs-t&'h., We'Y~AW ihpih kayis-6s ~hnituk mah-md'i 'waw 1c6'hninaw kisa'MAne — t6w, jh-y5'm utdini'hkuni'k-An Un/&tsi'AnehsAn as 1kjs-m~ndi'tsin utdi'tahkcesej'win. nahii'w, y6'? niwv m&'waw as a'2tek ahki'hih inih wtdi'tah1kes~' win kay~~s-mjndi'tsin unitsyA'nehsAn. ini'2. naha'w, ini? d'hkik, 'nahii'w, nx~hsihsd'hsAk, kdi'taw-in5'htawe-yd'1kin, umi'? tdh a-k.'v,1 -i yalk: p~htsis8dkimeji kiwdwiht~m~n~. (5 times) y6m nik~sikwj kiwdiwghtamune-. (once) p~htsisa-kimei (3 times) w.jh~k wjh~h wjh6h wM~hh wM~h~ (once) (Whole song is repeated.) ini2 niki'mun. y~win di'ts k6'hkurnin j'h-ayum p4'mahkamikc6'hseh ihpi'h a" kdikg'hotah wj'yaw, as naltamo-wi'tsin k1c6hninawan kisa'MnAnetb'wAn, a8 me-na-'tsin nikdi'mun. nakhd'w, y5'? tdh: (First song once repeated) 'wa pdmiyan~ hdsikeyarue, (3 times) 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 63 And so I ask you, my friend: you will tell me what you want to do, in case you want to pay for it. This is what I ask you; I shall tell it to you, if I know that which you ask me. And I shall, to begin with, perform this ceremony, in view of the tobacco which you have offered up to me, and of the offering of food which you have made. Now then, two songs I shall sing. I shall repeat the words of this Earth which she spoke when God' the Father of us all had created her body, and gave her power to this creation of his, his child. For all this which is upon the Earth, is her power, which he gave to her, his child. Thus it is. That is the end, then. "So now, my grandchildren, whenever you desire to imitate my speech, this is what you will always say: "Something good I promise thee. (5 times) This sky of mine I promise thee. (once) Something good I promise thee. (3 times) Wehoh wehoh Wehoh wehoh wehoh Hoh!" (Repeat from beginning2) That is the song. This, we are told, is what this dear Extent of Land3 did speak, what time she urged on her body, aiding our Father God by giving him a song. And this beside: (First song once repeated) "If you look at me As I am shaped, (3 times) 1 The Ojibwa word Great Spirit (or Gentle Spirit?) is used. 2 I. e. the first couplet 5 times, the second once, then the first three times, then the refrain. The whole series is gone through twice, and must be, if it is to take effect. The meaning of the lines is obscure; the above is my guess. 3 Apparently a ritual name of the earth. 6-4 Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. xi[ k~h9,s~kwf n~na hds~keyaniT. (once) wapdme-yanj hds~kyane(twice) wMhA wMhAh! (once) alt Ik 'w ay6'? lkayes-nika'mit. nahdi'w, uv~'ydiv min? kay&s-nahpd'kama'sit.1 'nahd'w, Pind'h t8Z'2nap&'htarnu'lkun Mh-y'm ninai kdinaw~'htawan. m& 'waw nine"? Ikdnaw~'htawan Mh-y6's lkiSamAieto'w 1kayg',spakc~'inah, me~nd'tsin unitsyA'nehISAn.' min? mdi'waw. niku,'t mis8ik ni'w niti'nuhtawei'w. ni~a't, ma-na'wAk k6'hninaw kait'-s-us~hd'tsin ispd'miah ayi'tua' Awav'tukAk, misi'lk anii'mahkiah ayi'tua~? awa'tukAk; m4'wa niw nik6'n ni niw kes-,u8e'htaw ind'hkuni'ka-n, aw-inim-h6'k MArna'tSitawV. (The first song once, then the second song once). nahdi'w, nuhk6'2, Z'h-ayum ne~nima iw kim~'nin s aw-uhfpu'AyAn. s3awd'nimina'2! kind'tutamo-n mi/i tatii'h/kesiwin kaye-s-pa/ki'tinah k6'hninaw, 2 h-y5'8 kg'y6i kdinawj'htawan. mi"i? na'tutam6'nan 5 a-mgY8i yen, s a-maskd'wise-yen, nimdi'timo6'hsem as ni'si4yah, nitsyA'nu/k, nZ'MAtAk, ma'wa niw a-rn 'si yh udm?- a'? /di'h, una-'m~vu! /k6h/Urnin i',wiw. na/ia'w, n~/hkc'nAk, (a~'Pi!) Ah-ayu'm ne??zimii'w ini2 sa~ye'h as aw-/c'kitt~tawAk. ayurn-e'2 tih nd'2tArn aw-utii'hpina'tsin ne~nim&' - wanmrnena'pus; ni/cut uhpu,'A/kAn aw-utid'hpinew s atw-iIhpu'At wina/h ap. /i&'w,.iUi'2-pih spd'miah ayi'tua2 aw4'tv/CAk aw-Uta'hpifpf'WA/C ne~nimawWAn, 8 aW-uhpu'Atua2; misi'/k anii'rahk/ia/i ayi'tua? awd' - tulcAi aw-u~ta'/pine'wA/k ne~nimnd'WAn s aw-uhpu'Atua'? misi/c Z'h-a/kum kimd'hsumndhs~i'htikuna'w~xk winu'a'? ap aw-uta/&~pine' WA/C ne~nimnwWAn; misi'/k ~'h-akvu'm /cJ'kikinini'wAkc aw-utii'hpine'wAk, ne~nimii'wAn; mis9i'/k /k6kurnd'hsinaw V'h-ayumn pai'mahkami/k9'/iek aw-utcd'hipinew ne~nimd'wan. mini? mdi'waw. nahid'w, kindi'tutam5'wunaWAk md'hnu-Pima'tesiwin s a-rn 'nin4'khkwa'? s a-pimd~'teiyah. mini? tah sa~yd'h, s aw-uhpu'A yak. ini'9, n~h/k&'nAk, kitd'watsu~hpu'A? ne'?ni'mdiw. 1Thus my notes. Better sense would seem to be made by nahku'amai "sang in accompaniment", or, perh ap n~pi/hamasit "sang in responsei turn." 1922 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 65 Like the sky I am shaped. (once) If you look at me As I am shaped. (twice) Wehoh wehoh!" It was the Earth who sang. Her body sang this where it was closed in. "Now then, do ye look attentively atthis whichlhave inkeeping. It is I who have in my keeping all that which God has placed here and given to his children." That is all. Once more I shall repeat her words. My friend, many are those whom our Father has created, the Spirits who are Above and the Spirits who are Below; all of it he alone has created, a single creation, for man to use in the course of time. (The first song once, then the second song once). Now, 0 my Grandmother,1 I give thee this tobacco that thou mayest smoke. Be gracious to me! I ask of thee that power which our Father placed and thou guardest here in thy body. This I ask of thee that thou give to me, so that I be strong, that thou give to all of us, to my wife with me, to the children, and to my friends. Does she speak truly? Indeed yes, she speaks truly. Our Grandmother she is. Now then, my fellow-worshippers, ("Yes!") Now I shall speak over this tobacco. Me'napus shall be first to receive it; a pipeful he will receive, that he too may smoke. And then the Spirits who are Above will receive tobacco, that they may smoke; and the Spirits who are Beneath will receive tobaccothatthey may smoke; and our Grandfather-Trees also will receive tobacco: and these EternalMen2 will receive tobacco: and our Grandmother, the dear Extent of Land will receive tobacco. That is all. And we ask of ye a good life, that ye grant us that we may live. And now it is time for us to smoke. Now, fellow-worshippers, let us first smoke some tobacco. 1 The Earth is our grandmother. 2 Probably the rocks and stones. 5 6" 6 66 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nahud'w, ni~hkii'nAk, jni'2 sa~ye'h s kUs uhpu'Ayah. ntalu'w, misi'k M~-y6-'m tsipf'hlcWAn d'2tik ahkdi'hlcuh awv-utd'hpin,,m J'h-ayum me2 -na'puts; misi'k spd'miah ayi'tua2 awi'tuk'Ak aw-ut&'hpinamulc; misi'lc anii'rahkiah ayi 'tua? auwi'tukAk, al- utd'hpinamulc Mh-yo'm tsipa'hkwAn; misi'k ~h-aku'm me~ti'kwAk- awv-ut&'hpinamuk.Zhy6'm tsi'pdhkWuAn; misi'k ~h-aku'2m kdkickinini'WAk aw-uti'hpinAmulc tsipdi'hkWAn; muisi'k Mh-ayu'm k6hkumd'hsahlcarni'lcnaw wina'h ap aw-utii'hpinAm, ~'h- y&'m tsip&'hkcWAn. iiahJ'w a itd&'wats-wdtwd'nin-tii'n, njhkdi'nAk; nilk&'taw-ut&'hpinAn hj7 18i MUAn ~s a-nikii'mi yAn,,wdwd'?nin s a~w-i'ydn, nihk'nk. ~h- y&'9 at" 2 yanm wd'wd' nin s aw~yci'n, ini'2 t-sipdi'hkWAn sa~yc'lh, aw nm tsihsiyah, n~hk&'nAk. aya't~skwAt nilk6'tunuh ninaw-nilki'mim. kes-pu~ni tamnan, ini'2-pih inak jh-y5'm tsip&'hkWAn', n~hkd-'nAk. (. d, ") ini? md'wawv. ini'2 lsiki'mnalah y~nn i8PhtsikAWm. ww&wtamnahikU wayiiwjtamahik& nikut pip~n~. 47. AS KAKI'HKUTAKAT NEHTSI'WIHTUK. M~-yb'M d'tsiMUAn wd'h-taki'k ahlca'nuh kay'~s-isj'1cimakah. nasM'w, ay6' tdhI matmd'tsi~taw na'we yAw as a'wilck yo'? as lt pimnd~teit. j'h-aku~ tdh mAnato'wAk ispei'miah ayi'tua2, misi'k Zhy6'8 alkum ayiNun2 mAfltoWWAk, misi'k and'mahkiah ayi'tua2 MAncit6o'wAk, md'wa niw a'htahsi'tua2, tatdhkesiwin kes-inim-mena-'wAk WM't ahkH'w a-taki'k. mni'? Oc'h inih kayes-pt'ts-is,8'kimAkcisi'tua2, ahka'-?u~h ~jh-y5's 8 Ik&-pimdi'tesitua2, a~ydte~n1Y'hkAtek. kaye-s-m&-'wawkd'lk6h-miyd'wikeh, kayes-8-Wsihtu'kua?, ini2-pih nauindi'n6h kay&si8-ma-t8yA'tua2; imi's tdhl as aw~h-Ike~td'hkciwe'pitu2 WM't ahkZ'w atalki'k, as y(3'h-tsg'2n~apumata tdh MAM&'eit'wn nahd'w, iy4'n ihpi'h as id'wik, as pits-pinudtesit talh ayum numam' - tsi'?taw, ini2-fpih inih kay&9-d-'tutah ke~t8ts-in'niw. tahnd',nuh nii'hkahkin, ini'-pih ki-md'wats6'hsimA't-sin n"ts$Anun as kiW-ntn6tam6uwi'tsin jh-y6'm iite?n6,'hlkakAn. ta'?, awdi'tuk 1cs-pakZ'tinew ani'nuh aswc'tukAn as d'winit, aw-iminz-y6'h-tdh-mini'kimakal& kdi'k6h, E'h-ydm aw-inim-sE'kit ayiim maiuw'tsib'tasw, d'ts ahlkg'w a-ta"kilc. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 67 Now then fellow-worshippers, we have finished smoking. Now this cooked food that is in the kettle Me'napus will accept; and the Spirits that are Above will take up this food; and the Spirits who are Beneath will take up this food; and these Trees will accept this food; and these Eternal-Men will accept the food; and this our Grandmother-the-Land also will accept this food. Now then, I shallfirst give thanks, fellow-worshippers; I shall receive the story (?) and sing and say thanks, fellow-worshippers. Even this is what I shall say; when I say thanks, thenwe shalleat the ceremonial cooked food. Once more for the last time I shall sing. When I have ceased from the sound,1 then we shall eat, fellow-worshippers ("Yes!"). Then shall we receive this cooked food, fellow-worshippers ("Yes!"). That is all. Such is this ceremony. We have been promised it, We have been promised it For one year.2 47. A SERMON (Nehtsiwihtuk) This discourse is of how things were in ancient time. Now then, this mortal man, in the middle of things, here it is that he stays and has his life. And these spirit-beings of animal form who dwell above, and these spirit-beings of animal form who dwell even here, and the spirit-beings of animal form who dwell below the earth, all of them, as many as they are, were given mystic power for all time as long as the earth shall endure. This is the way of their existence from the past, ever since they lived even here, as it is told in sacred story. When all things had been set in order, and they had been fully created, then did they set out in several directions; and there did they settle to stay as long as the earth shall endure, from there to look upon mortal men. And so, in the time since then, ever since this mortal man has continued to live, old men have told of that thing. Every evening they would gather their children about them and explain to them this sacred narrative. For the Spirit had set him down who was himself a being endowed with spirit, that things might from then on continue to be right, and that this mortal man might continue to be of this nature, as long as the earth shall endure. 1All the singing was accompanied by rhythmic beating of the waterdrum. 2 This song constitutes, apparently, the giving of thanks; after it, we ate. 5* Publications, American Ethnological Society 'Vol. XiI nahii'w, inuh tdh ni'tsien kay~s-nin6-'tamuh, nd'nikvt Ics-pehta'm. nalu'w, lce~s-pits-teh-misa'hkAte'waw;, kei'tin tdih niw kis-sawd'nimikawa'tulkAn. wd'nikcut, kAn wi'nah md'waw, kay~s-kd'2t8-anuhkcit inuh nVtsiAm kd~'1k6h as lkAta'w-kehlce'nah, /cts-na'tamak awa'tulcAn as awini'm-pimdi'tesit misi'k m&'waw niw lcd.'lk~ kE-s-nd'tamak aw-isssnn'tsihsit. kUs-tat&'hesiw as pimi'tesit, ani'nuh tdh y6'h awa'tukcAn as sawd'nimi'kut. ini'2 kay~s-pits-isj'1kimak-ah uma'nalkah uti'h s k&~-pits-pimdtesi'twua? pdm&'tesi'tva?. nalui'w, ydhpi'h tdh sa~ye'h as pimfi'tesi'yah., Ici'na2, sa?ye'h ma - wa. niw kd~'koh wanj'hnen inih 1kay*es-m~'nih inuh mamd'tsi~taw tatdihkesi'win. wine'? teh niw ayu'm mAma'tsi~taw wd'nihni't6Ic inih utd'tahkesi'win. ini'2 teh misi'k d'sis-kehk~nah teh tsiyd'w, wdhts8ita,' niw ma'wa ni kdi'kch as pas ayalku'Amisit as aw-kuya'k-pima'tesit, p6'n nik6'tuh kdi'lkh matsg'2 s aw-isj'?tAt. k*j'spin wi'hlltk wayz'slciwah m5'sah as aw-isj'2tAt, kAtd'w-ndi'tamakc awd'tulcAn ma'wawv Idi'k~h kayjs-u~sj'htukc, y~s ahki'hih pdmnd'tes8it mAmd'tsi~taw. nah&'w, inj'? "-sis-kehkcZ'nah wi'nah ap ~'h-ayum mAma'~i~taw, ndi'nikut; misi'Ic tdh n&'nilcut wi'hlkihtaw inu'h pdma'tesit mamd'tsi?taw. jh-y5'm kAn waye-'slkiwah palcetAm matsj'?-ind'tesi'win ndI ni/kut ayu,'m piimd'tesi t; wayj'skciwah nisi'lk niw ini'2 Wisis-anu'hkit, as aw-ni'Alkut awa'tulcAn lkuy&'k as anu,'hlkit. ini'2 niw mitsi' niw dihp~'htsiwd'2tama'kah ini'h kayj8-mj'nih tatii'hkesin; ini'? tdhk y6'h ku~yii'Ic as aw-pimil'tesit inuh pimii'tesit. ini'? hd'si8-lkehkj'nah inuh pilm&'tesit; Zh-yb's ahki'hih lciko6'tsi~ta tiih kuydl'k as a-1katii'w-pim' - tesi'yah,. as a-mj'ninah lk6'hninaw tatil'hlkesi' win. imi'?, ni~a't, ni"nah ap d'sqis-kehkj'naman. 48. FRAGMENT OF A SERMON. (wis-il'nahk-wAt) ayu'm mamd'tsi?taw lcahpih lka'taw-MAma'tsi~ta'wit, nahil'w, ini'?pili kay~s-use-'hnitukc tdih ayu'm pdmd'hk-una'tsin, ayum lkisamAnito'w dis-wi'htsikasit. ini2-pi'h kay&s-us jhd-'tsin. hpih WiyAuis pa-'kiten&'tsin, ay6'w tdh mAndl'tow ds-wi'htsikasit. nah&'w, mi's?; ayum tdh mAma't8i~taw tahndi'nuh wdit~ti'mit, ini'? niw Ws'IciwAn?inim-uwi'hSWAnit; inuh tdh a'yAwis lkay&s-mi'nih pima-'tesit, icApa'? tahni'wudn niw as isg'?nisit, ini'? tdth isg'Ikiw'an inim-ut~tiimit. nahil'w, ay6ow tdih MAma'tsi?taw. ini'? wdh-tii't; ay6'w niw mnAna'to-w mi'i? niw nahii'w, ini'? tdh dnil'tsin ayum mdts-awd'tuk, kisdmAne'tt~w dswi'htsikwait: 'nahii'w, ni'maimitsi?ta'wi6Am sa?yii'h tahni'wd-n Icki'tawpAlcetinAlc y68, y6'? lcaye8-.unalc$',ht8ituwAlc. icine'? tilh u?ndi'hsi maw, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 69 And so, when these children had been informed, then one and another of them heeded and believed it. And he then through hither time practised fasting; and in truth he was pitied and blessed by the spirits. One and another, but by no means everyone, when he had labored hard, that child, to know things, he was helped by the spirits to continue life, and in all things he was helped, that he might thus obtain his sustenance. He was strong with mystic power as he lived, because the spirits pitied and blessed him. That is the way it was hither through time, as yonder in the past mortal men continued to live. But now, in the present time when we live, you and I, all that has vanished, that which had been given to that mortal man. That mystic power, he himself it was, this mortal man, who made it wane, that mystic power of his. And now, for want of better, this is the way he knows of it; to take serious heed in all things that he may live a righteous life, that never at any time he do aught of wrong. If he succeeds in doing only what is good, he will be helped by that Spirit who created all things, the mortal man who lives here on earth. So now, this is the best knowledge of this mortal man, one and another; and one and another succeeds in it, of these mortal men. One and another of these mortals abandons this evil way of being which is not good; only for that which is good does he strive, that the Spirit may see him as he righteously strives. It is to this extent and in this way that yon mystic power which once he was given, still has its strength; and it is owing to this that man will lead a righteous life. This is the knowledge of men; here on earth let us try, then, to live righteously, that our Father may give us mystic power. This, friend, is as I, for my part, know it. 48. FRAGMENT OF A SERMON. (Wisanahkwat) When this mortal man was about to live in mortal form, then did he arrange it who governs him, this Great Spirit, as he is named. Then he created him. When first he set him down, he was named even as the spirit-animals. So now, this mortal man, as many different totems as he has, according to that creature he continues to have his name; he to whom of old the gift of human life was given, no matter of how many tribes he be in speech, he continues to have that kind of creature for his totem. And so this is the origin of this mortal man; in the spirit-animals he has his origin. Now, this is what this Great Spirit said to him, this Gentle Manitou, as he is called: "Now then, as many tribes of this my mortal human creature as I shall here set down, this is the way I have launched his world for him. Thou, Menomini, shalt be the oldest 70 70Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nah&'w, ay6'? tdh ani'w Idi'taw-&'wit ayumn na'9tkm pa'lkitenAkcumd'?numinimw nahud'w, kA'fl tdh Wi'yAn ulc&d'ta'w-inim-nani'nawi'hilkunan as3 aw-inim-matsi-pima'tesit. ay6'9 td/h ani'W ldi'taw-i'nim-d'u't.' wi'ne? nd'?tAm kayi~s-pAk'tinikut, ay'u'm kisd'MAnit~w; ni? wd'kh kAt wi'yAn as aw-inim-nani'nawihikut. 'ta? aw-inim-d'ts-ay&'nihkuw-pimid'tesit ayu.m nimama'ts3i?ta'wi-m,w wyi'ne? niw ani'w as a-lkAtda'w-nirn-a'Wit. 4&d'w, ~7h-ayum nima-md'tsi?ta'WiAm kd'k~h dsis-wj'?s3ake'sqitsin, as md'waw as pE'kunah inih kdi'taw-wanj'hs3imikut. nalhd'w, y6'? tdh Iki'taw-ini-y6'h-pemd'tesqit aw-inim-dts8-t&'t ayo6'w nim&ma&'tsi?ta'wiAm; aw-inim-d'ts-tdt, anu'? teh kdtaw-inim-miyd'winikut. ikAn tdh wvi'nah Wv'yAn pAs ukdi'hkin~haMA'kunan; ni'ne? pd'lkitenam6'WA/k; a? kai'h, nine'? dnd'niMAlk as kCAtdaw-inim-utaMa'pAMAk. ni'? wv'i'h-pakU'tinam~wAk- y6'm kaye-s-usj'htawan as8 aw-inim-mdtsi'hkamilkah. kA'n tdh nitdnd'nihtanan wvi'yixn pas ini'm-nani'nawi'hilkut. ni? wdh-ind'niMAlk as aw-inirn-mdhnu,-pim&.'tesit; ini? wdh-pakcj'tina'rn~wAlk anu'rn. a? kd'h,. nine'? nima-md't3i*?ta'wi.&m; anun'? td/i aw-ini-y~h-mdt8V'skAt. nahd'w, ini'-nicu~h wayi'hkihtawan. 49. THE ORIGIN OF THE MENOMINJ PEOPLE. (wa-3d'?) imis d'yAwis as lkAtd'-piMd'tesit wmd'?numin~w mAmct'tsi0tawl, ini?-pih lkay6s-niVhtakwah mis8~wd' niw y3'm ahke-w 4'nikit'hlwah., mis'i'kUMAs spft'Miah: 'awd'? inuh awuk-~cma-'wi1?' na/ud'w, ini'?-pih mni'wa niw kis-na-'IAtawd,'nihtah. niku't tdh umAs anii'mahkcyah awd'hsek wAya'fpislcinit, m'u'? ukcz'maw ayd'wit UMAs and'mahk yak. mi'td'tah aw-ii'wiwan unitsi'Aneksn. inuh y&'hpits uhsj'mi'maw, 'nine'? lkdh we-h-ukc~eiwWiyen,' ind'w annA 5'hnAn. 'naha'w!' ilcu'ah; 'w~'skci-pdmd'tesit awjh-d'winun; ki'ne? ulc'nudw.' u~md'?nu~minj'w mAmei'ts8i?taw ini? teh as kjs-kiW9'?tAt yo-'s. utd'hkekkuw&'wan NAk ta'WAn; Mi? teh as ks-p$ni'tsin y058. 1kay6'stdh-y6's-piAt, ini?-pih t4k kaye~s-pina'tsin n14'hlcekkun y6's, imis si'piah. nAma'wAlc teA m6'slcineu'Ak. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 71 brother among all the tribes whose speech my mortal creatures shall speak. He shall be beyond the rest, this Menomini, whom first I set down. By no one shall he be overcome, as he continues to exist in time. He shall be beyond all others through the course of time." It was none other than he whom this Great Spirit first set down; that is why no one, through the course of time, shall conquer him. "As long as this mortal creature of mine shall continue to live, generation upon generation, it is he who shall continue to be beyond the rest. "And now, whenever this mortal creature of mine in any way is sick, then these things' he willuse. Thenwill he be well; eventhen will he break all that whichwas about to layhim low. This,then,is that by which he will continue to live, as long as this my human creature shall exist; as long as he shall continue to exist, by these things will he be made well. Nor can anyone teach him this; it is I alone have set it down for him; yea, it is I alone have bestowed this upon him, and shall continue through time to keep him unceasingly in my sight. That is why I have set down for him this which I have created, that there shall continue to be a world. Nor is it my intent that he shall ever be by anyone overcome. That is why I have bestowed this upon him that he may continue to live happily; that is why I have set down these things for him. Yea, he is indeed my own human creation, and these things shall be the means by which he will continue to exist." - But, now I can no more2. 49. THE ORIGIN OF THE MENOMINI PEOPLE. (WasV') In yonder time when first the Menomini nation was to come into the human state of life, then over all the extent of this earth and also in the air above, was heard the call: "Who will be their chief?" Then did every creature take thought. But a certain White Underground Bear was chief in the underground world. Ten must have been the number of his offspring. The youngest of them all: "It is indeed I who shall be their chief," said he to his father. "Very well!" he answered; "Go and be a good being: 'tis you who are chief." So then did the Menomini come forth into this world. A kettle they had; at that time he brought it here. When he came, that was when he brought his kettle to this place, over to yon river: It was full of sturgeon. 1 Roots and herbs. 2 The aged shaman, in deep grief for the death of his wife (less than a year before), had only with difficulty been induced to furnish me a text. At this point he broke off, and wept, explaining to me that his grief was too great. 72 72 Publications, American Ethn~ological Society Vol. XII 'nine'sa2 tdh a-W~kdts-tsiw-ukjmdi'wi yen yos ahlci'hih!' misi'lk nikut mita'mulh ini2 d'S-piAt; mu'2 winah a'p ay&'wit,inih as i'tdh, 'ninah as uk~md'wyen,' as it&'h, mi"i? teh di'nih: inuh ktih mitdr~'muh:, 'nine'sa2 teI& net'?tam a-pim5'hne yen y~s ahlki'hih!' 'nd'2tapem6'hnew,' in&'win kah. ini'2 ds-kU8-mamdi'tsi~tawAk-di'witua2 umd'2numin~w mama'ti?tawAk. misik mhw~iw wya'piskinit misi'lk apdi'hsus wAyii'piskinit mamdi'tsi~taWAk s as a'witua2, misMiitu windi'ekuahn misi'k wa'pimi'flAnl ifli? teh ase'watukcua? as mi'tsilcua2. ini?-psl& wina'h ap kayes-pit8-ma'tsiAt ind'melhkiw, as pi8-mamd-'ts8i~taw as &'Wit imis kaydi'nituh, mii'wa ni niw uhpe'2tawAk ini'2 win~a'? as pyA'tua?, mama'tsi?tawAk as di'witua2. ini'? tdh wi'nua2 ap s pemii'tesitua2, um4'?numine~w mama'tsi0tawAk s d,'witua2. kehk~namukc teh kutd'2na8 as i'tua2 mamdi'tsi~tawAk. nik~tdi's inuh u~Ikipdi'Wi8, - Mitsi' nw uhpe-'2taw d'wiw, - ispd'miah teh ini'? as ki-kg'wi~net. ini'%[pih imi'nakah kay~'s8ini-isyAt inuh ukgmii'w as it, payi'At tdh mins, mi't? as iitsimit: 'imi'? as nd'wAkua2 mama'tsi~tawAk;- k42t8-minu'apuMindi'kwAt inis s tan/i'situa?; ka'2ts-we'8kiwAt mayi'tsikua2; nAmd'WAfl Mi IWAk. inuh uk~'mdw ini? wdi'htinatua? anuh nAmdi'wAn inis utii'hkehkvkuh.' Cnah&'w,' ~wd'h inuh mdiyd'weit inuh ind'mehlciw, 'kit4'SiAx? I'' ta'?, kd'ye8 niw kehk~namuc rnd-mii'waw niw s tdw-V'tua2. min?pil tdh maya'tsiAt; ini? tdih 8 pi'Atdt, 8 awdini'tsin ani'nuh we-'matAn. we-'/iwAm t~ih talku'ah; y6-? 4'nikiZ'hkuah lken6'htem. ini? teh s4 pi'IMikani'kutua? ~'sgikan. ini? tdh d't8 inuh uk~mdw: 'king'? aw-uk~md'wi yen,' ind'w. 'kA'n!' i~wd'h; 'kine'? ni'w ukj'medw ayei'wiyen. nina'h wi'nah: kikd~'taw-ini-kakc&'putsihik inuh nikut mamd~'tsi?taw; nine'? teh kd'tapakdi'htamd'nan. ni'w-inuh mAmd'tsi0taw as ki'tskit ahpii'n niw nine'? niw kd-'taw-pakd'htamunan.' min? tdh mah-mdi'waw s kis8-itua? 8a'?yeh, umd'?numine-w mAmd'imi? mii'waw -. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 73 "And so it is I, it seems, who am unworthily to be chief here on earth!" And then likewise a certain woman came: she was the same kind of being as that man. Because he had said this about his chieftainship, therefore was he thus called: "Unworthy-Chief."' And the woman: "And so 'tis I am first to walk upon this earth!" "Walks-First," she was called. Thus did the Menomini people first come into the state of human mortals. When also the White Wolf and the White Deer came into human form, then they were given squash and maize; then they planted these things and ate them. Then the Thunderer, too, went forth and came hither to live in human form, in another place off yonder. All the flying fowl, thither came they to live in human shape. So then they too became mortals and were of the Menomini nation. They knew that there were people somewhere. Then at one time a servitor, - he was as yet in the form of a bird, - up aloft he flew round. Then to yonder place he had gone where dwelt that chief. And when he came back, he related: "Off yonder I saw some people; very beautiful is the place where they have their home; very good is the food that they eat; they eat sturgeon. It is from their chief that they obtain the sturgeon, from his kettle." "Very well," said the leader of them, the Thunderer; "Let us go there!" Now, from of old they knew that all of them were to abide together. So then he went forth and came to the place, taking with him his fellows. And there was a dwelling; as big as this it was, a long-lodge. Into it did the others lead them, placing them along one of the two sides. Then said that chief: "It is you shall be chief," he said to the other. "Nay!" said he; "It is you yourself are the chief. But as for me: in the course of time a certain nation will assail you; and it is I shall then strike them for you. For four times the length of a man's life as he comes to old age, through all that time, it is 1 shall strike him in your behalf." "So be it," said the chief. So now they all indeed abode together there, in the human form of the Menomini people. That is all. 1This is the ritual name of the bear, turtle, and porcupine, as totems of the three gentes of the Bear phratry, to which belongs the chieftainship; they are called also "chief-man" (ukema'wineniw). The name has been used, historically, as a man's name in the Bear gens. 74 74Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 50. ANCIENT MANV. ('MAskwawdi'nahkw1Ato-k-) ini' niw n4'2tam kis-pima-'tesiwin. jih-y5,s. i'ni'wtin w~'k as us~'htukc, me~ti'kwkn as aOsilki'natsin. /CAf Idi'Ikh ut4'ninapeh; ini'? tih tsi-md'wats3-a~tehsimdi'tsin anu,'h 'mneti'kwAn; ini'? kdh as tsi-w~' kit inuh indi'niw. umd'2tikWAn kaye-8-us8hd'tsin, ini'2-pih tsi-kiw-pahpe'sit. we'pan, aOse'niAn 1kay~'hnikinit kUs-a?.si'tahpi'new ini's wZ'pih. mni'? tdih as ki-pimu'atsin ap&'hsusun, as ki-pind'tsin mi'ts as we'Ikit,; kAni ydih d'win ki-pi8-p6'tawet as lci-tsip&'hlcit. nilko'tas t&'2akats-ts~pd'hk~win. iniwi'n-pih nik8'ds k6-'8cu~sit,,mitd'muh siwas apE'win. 'inn,'? IdA ik5lic'2simaw aw-d'wit; inun'2 a-ki-tsipd'hkit, misik inu'? a-ki-marnf'hnet; misik lcip6'?sehka'kanan a-kiwv-usZ'htawv, kay~skU'sihatsinin apdi'h8'usu'kuman. ini? tdh ki'nah as a-ki-pahpj'si yen,' iku'ahin wve'yAn s k ~kitutd~'kut; lcawi'n tOh w.i'nah. unudwd'nan awe'ninO5 tsi-w~'htamakut. ni-ahd'w, iniwi'n-pih pay&'pahpis8it inuh ind'niw. ta'?, kd'2tin und~mdi' niw 1ki-pis-mi'tsihs~win, as ki-ke-'sisah mitsim~'heh as kiwuna'hkuhah. ta'?, kAn wi'nah wi' y~n ut&t'hk-ehlkun inuh mitii'mvuh. ini'? Idih as ki-pis-mi!'tsihsit inuh ind'niw. winhap inuh mitd'muh, '#j'h-y5? minit'tih. a-kiw-us,'htawvan, kayj~s-mdtsyA't~sin k6V?neh,' ind'win wi'nah ap. ta'?, iniwi'n keh as a'yusij'htuk minftiuhs~n, zvi'lcupiAn kay&s'nahit'hah, me'?sih. iniwi'n-~pih misik ndi'hkcahkin kiw-unid'Ikuhah Mitsimn'hseh as ki-pis-mi'tsihsinit 6?nd'hSAn. nik~t&'s misilc mi'p, kaye-s-mat.SYA'nit 5?nd'h8An, as a?8ikind'hnet, ini'win as ndwd'tsin ind'niwAn as 5nikdi'nit. ta'?. n&'si'kas ndtvd'win; w'wtdiahte2 isiY?tawin mawatsj'hnituk meh-se'wA??. ini'win as a'yapit w~'kih. kay~s-kU'sihtuk inih wj'k inuh ind'niw, iniwi'n-pih pis-nd'nikcut inuh mita'muh anuh ind'niWAn. payi'At inuh pahpZ'siw, kAn wi'yAn uk5'?simawan;, wdahtsita'w ini'win as piS-pu'AWi?t At. 'tsiyei'w nehsZ'h kAt nita'8iAM; nawbn&'?s ninaw-ahs&'mik.' k-ay&~-inim-pi'htiket, siikit6'hnewin inuh mitd'muh; sa?nawed'hkwvAt awjh-na'tUAhin. awd'h8An k#is-ne?ne'wvin wina'h ap inuk inai'niw. 4ini's a'?tuh inih w~nin5'hseh sc~nawa-'hkwAtuh,' ind'win; 'kina.paldi'ndiw as m&'k-kisi'sit inuh w~nin5'hseh,' ina'win WZ'WAnl. ta'?, kayj's-a~tuk inuh mitdi'muh inih winin6'hseh, mdk-pask,-pi,mi'tewin inih wjnin5'hseh as uOnd'hSAn as apj' nit. ta?, mu?tahake'win inuh inei'niw; kAn kd'k~h UP~'hsehkakan. iniwi'n-pih mnis d'hpakit aham~wa'tsin anuh winin6hAmn as mdk-kisi'sinit; ini'? keik as ki'sisu'atsin anuh u,?nd'hsAn. kjwa'win tsiydiv inuh ind'niw, as awMhus86'htuk me?si'h wj'pan, as kAtdi'w-ne~na'tsin a'nuh wg'?tawcan. kay&s-k'siht~uk anuh wj'pan, ini'win-pih d'8iAt. pauyi'Atat misi w't~'k 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 75 50. ANCIENT MAN. (Maskwawanahkwatok.) A man first lived here on earth. He gathered some trees and built himself a house. He had no ax; he must have leaned those trees all against each other; so there that man must have dwelt. He made himself a bow, and then went hunting. As for his arrows, he tied a sharp-pointed stone to each arrow. In this way he would shoot deer and bring them to where he dwelt; only then, when he got home, could he build his fire to cook. At one time he did not feel like cooking. Then once when he awoke there sat a woman. "This person now will be your sister; she will be the one to cook and to gather fire-wood, and she will make your garments, having tanned the skins of deer. But you will do the hunting," he was told by someone that was addressing him; but he did not see that person, whoever it was that was tellng him this. So now this man always went hunting. And, it was true, his meal was all ready for him when he came home, she having cooked the meat on a spit. For that woman had no kettle. So then the man would come home and eat. But the woman, "Out of this thing here you will keep making a bag, whenever your older brother is away," she was told. So now she kept making sacks, fetching on her back much basswood bark. And in the evening, as before, she would roast meat on the spit for her brother to eat when he came home. Once in the morning, when her brother had gone, and she was picking up chips, she came upon a man who was building a house. She saw him, but kept right on; paying no heed, she attended to her gathering of fire-wood. Then she stayed in her house. When that man had finished his house, then he came and fetched that woman. When that hunter came back, his sister was gone; truly now he had a hungry homecoming. "I had better go to my sister; I suppose she will give me food." When he had come and entered, the woman went out of the lodge; she went and fetched a forked stick. That man, for his part, had come upon a bear. "Put that piece of fat meat on the forked stick," he told her; "You will beat the fat when it is hot," he told his wife. So then, when the woman had placed on the spit the piece of fat meat, it was sizzling as it fried, there where her brother sat. Now that man was naked; he had no upper garment. Then she threw that piece of fat meat over to him, while it was cooking hot; and so she burnt her brother. The man went home disappointed, and there made a store of arrows, intending to kill his brother-in-law. When he had made the arrows, he went there. When he got to the 76i Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII WAMih, /awin wi'yA/c, tsi-/ke-matsi'Atua2. ini'9 /kh as Iki'nuneMd'tsin wZ'2tawan as /kAta'W-ne~na'tsin. ini'? kdih nahdi'?s s pemii'tesit misi'k. nilc~td'8 ayid'wi/c, yiih-pi'wAnin anuh uk6'2simawctn as pis-pim4'nikut. ta/2, iniwi'n-pih Misi'/k payii'pahpisit inulh ind'niw. ni/cota's misi'/c payi'At, w~'2tawan pis-ndwiv'win fk-ayd'nisiwAn. wdhtsita'w ini'win as min-i'nihtah as unitspy'nehsitua?. ah/k6'2si/c niw) mana'wA/cin mAma'tsi~tawIA/c. kca k&i'sikitua2 a/cuh iutsyA'Inu/c, kcAn u/ci''h/cinawiinu'wawan ta'2-na/cah tsi-/ci-y~h-pydi'nit anuh incd'niWAn ini'm-/cand'wihi/cutua2 a/cub kci~s'hsA/c, misik a/cuh apahni'hsA/c. ta?, ahkc5'2s3ik mana'WA/cin mamd'tsi?tawA/c. nahd~'w, ini'2-pih wi'yAn tsi-/ci-pis-nawind'hu/cutua2, as ki-pismikd&'nikutua2. ta'?, a/ci'/cuh nuhui'hkA/c /i-ne~ne'wA/cin ani'nuh ikipis-nawindi'hukutua?. nik6't/is ayii'wik,. iniwin s p6'nihikcutua2; ta'?. nd'8ikcas wdwe'/cWA/cin ini's. as pa/hpi'situa2 inif'niwAk, ini'? teh m6'sah unfC/cih as p562sd'hkcahIkua2: mikti'muhsA/c unii'/kih -utdin&'hpisunu~WAW, up~'hseh/ca/anuwVa'wAn; misik uti'/cumuwei'wan apd'i'hsusu,'/uman. misi/c a/kuh ind'niW1~kc winu'a2 ap unii'/kih upjhsehka/ca'nuwaw, uti'hsO-wa'wan; 'misi/c anini'/cih unudhkesin5'wawan; utii'/umuwd'wan apa'bsulsu'/kuman. misi'/c ani'? niw dnd'h/citua? as nijii'tua? apd'ksusu'/uman. a?.se'niAn /caye~hni/cinit /ki-nt~ntidh'wA/c utd'nina'peh/cuwdw as usi'htukua?. me~ti/c-uni'/can /ciw-usj'htawA/c as atftVhpitua?, me~ti/c-d'mis/cwAn,. u~t&'pihpe'niAn /c8-rni'wA/c, mAmfWi'tsi~taw-,uhpei'niAn, wa'pisi'hpinimxn, as/cipu'awan; m&'wa ni /-di'/ch /cs-me~'su/c. w~kwa'wan w)An&kd/c6/kun, pikutsi,'hnA/c /c&-apii'h/c5WA/, sehta,'kvn. /cs-kitdimi'/cesiwAk. md'mi/c niw apei'hsus uhtit'h/cWAn ini'? tsi-/c~s-ut&'?si/cani'tua?. ni/c6'tds3 sa?ye'h mayiind'tua? MAMi'tsi?taWA/c, in~i'?-pih tsi-/cskct'/cit~tdi'kct awid'tu/cAn inuh ni/cut ind'niw: 'nah&'wv, sa?ye'h ini'k,pih &'wi/c, wi'yA/c /cina-nd'wdw UM~xs nipi'hih as a-pi'At. mnu'? /6'ht/citimd'/cesimuAW. na/id'w, ini'?-pih tsi-ma'watsih&'tsin MAma-'tsi?taWAn as wjhta-,m6w&'ts3in inih 'i'/ut wi'yAn.?ini'h-pih tfih ei'wi/c, y6? rna'waw as a-nd'wa/cih aw4'? inuh /cI'hnnaw tsi-/cAti'W-ei'Wit.' sa?e'h4 payiAta'mak/ah, ini?-pih tsi-ma-'watsi'hsih/cua?. /cd'?tin.t 8a?yeh naydi'wahki/c/, /cd'/c5h pis-a/ci'tewin n6'?s35h. kcd"?tsih pisd'wi/c, sd'/cisi'WA/cin mAm&'tsi?tawA/c. sa?eh pis-piAtd'nit, aydi'tspdci/c me?ti/c~n~'hsAn ahpui'/itamu/cin m6h/cumi'nA/c, as p6'situa?, as kcapdi'tqa?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 77 house, no one was there; it seemed they had gone away. So he sought his brother-in-law in vain, to kill him. And so now he lived again alone. Then at one time his sister came back and again kept house for him. So now that man again kept hunting. Once, when he returned, he found a new brother-in-law. Truly he was glad then, when they had a child. In the course of time the people grew many. When the children grew up, they did not know whence came the men who married the young women, and the like was true of the young men. So, in the course of time the people grew many. Then some people must have sought them out to fight them. So now those men who had married the young women used to kill those who came against them. At last the others ceased from them; so now they dwelt there in peace. When the men hunted, all they wore was leather, and of leather were the women's skirts and jackets, and their blanket-robes were deer-skins. And the men's jackets too were leather, and their leggings; and their moccasins were leather, their blanket-robes deerskins. And deer-skins were also what they had for bedding when they slept. They used to search for pointed stones to make hatchets. They made wooden bowls to eat out of, and wooden spoons. They ate bitter-root, ground-nuts, white-tubers, and sweet-grass;1 all kinds of things they ate. On their houses they used bark and crumbly wood and the boughs of needle trees for thatch. They lived in want. The elbow joint (fibula) of the deer they chiefly used a a knife. At one time then, whenthere were already many people, a certain man was addressed by the Spirit: "Now then, very soon now you will see someone coming here over the water. He will be the father of you all; all manner of things he will give you, for all too great is your want." Thereupon he assembled the people and told them what someone had said to him. "Very soon now, all of us shall be here and shall see him, whoever this father of ours is to be." When the time came, they all assembled. Then truly, at noon, something came sailing toward them far out upon the water. When it had come near, the people were frighthened. When they arrived; then in the shallow water the white man2 launched little wooden boats and embarked in them and landed from them. 1 Dentaria maxima, Apios tuberosa, Sagittaria arifolia, and a herb, "sweetgrass" or "sweet-root" not identified by Smith. 2 The word properly means "(white) American," but is often applied, as here, to whites in general. 78 78 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 'awdi'tukcAk a'WiWAlk akurn nayaWAk%'htua2!' w&v'kin M~AmIA't-si~taIVAk, as sdJ'kisitua2, m~iss's niw as awe-h-k-ehti',sk-i~tatua2. 'p~n sdi'kisi'kun, ninitSYA'nehsAk!.' ~wdi'hin m6'hkumain. ka'yA8 niwv nin~htawe'win inuh kayfts-kV'1cit~td?'kut awii'tukAn. ta'2. M~iwi'n-pih ma'waw mi' s pi8-ni'puwi'tu.a? as tsW'napumii'ta? anuh -MAmdc'tsi?tawan. ini'iwin-pih d'hsamv'ktuta9 m& 'ta ni kd'k~h, ahkd'h,kun as mi' nikutua2; p6'2sehkakan uw& 'wan, ut&,'nina'pehkw&va'wan, md'wa ni kd'koh as mi'niku-tua2, paslcets8sik-AnAWn. kis-sad'ki~WWAkin as nii'htahkua2 inih pdslcetsi',silkAn'. nu4am-ts-aw ayj'kit~wdk, pakitswd'pinamin as kd~ts-56sI'mit. ini'9 keh aswdihnu-pimii'teqitua2 matid'tsi~tawVAk, rn&'wa ni Idi'kbhl as tantd'hkua2, up6'2sehlcalanuwdi'wan, utd&'9silcan6'wawvan, utdi'hkehkuwa'wAn, -utd'ninapehkvcuwdi'WAfl ta2. i'nis tdih ti'nah iniwi'n-pih nawj'naw ayd'wik, sa?ye'hinayandf'tua2, ini'2-pih kay~s-,wdp-ne2 -wni'tit ayum mam&'tsi?taw;,umdt'?numin~w, utsi'piw. m&'waw We' yAk d'si~nisitua2, ahpd'n niw kUs -mika'toAk. as k~'s-tdh -misd'hkatdwii'tua2. in~i2 wdh-&'wik ahpd'n niw as k&s-nfikc'titua2. kAn Wik'tuh vkjs-p5'ni~tanu'waWAn; tahndi'nuh kut4'2nas niku't as mniwa'tua2 mamii'tsitawan, ini'2 niw as ne~na't'ua2. nis as ndwii'tua2, ini'2 niw as ne~na'tua?. misi'k kut4i'2na8 nahd'9s3 as u~i'kitua2' ini"? niw as ne"?natua2. md'wa niwv mam&'tsi~taw mi"i? kay&s-i89'2tAt, as k&s-ne~ni'tit. naya-nikutu'hkin nikiiti'wdn as iniiwd,'htit inuh mamii'tsi~taw kutdi'2nas as k5si'tua2, mini? as ki-pi'2takutua2 flaua't Afni'WAnh, m&'waw as ki-pis3-ne~ni'kutua'? kik~h nOt~i'AflUk. han6'ts niw kUs-ihpd'nane't5?VAk MAMa,'tsi~taWAk. m& 'wa nluW ~'h- y~m wz's keike-'skisa'muk niMA'S; 'nik~s-mcdhsu'aw,' kiw-iwda'h, wi'nehkwAn as ki'-MAMd'k, akuh mnAMa'tsi~taWAk,. ahpdi'n min? Icay&~-isi'2tAtua2 akuh marni'tsi'?tawAk. kAn wt' yAk uk~s-sawd'n)ihfi'nan ini' sasd'Sklisit namei'tsi'?aw. ini'-ke h-ni kuh kdi'hkinaman. n6'hkurneh as kiw-d'tsimit nikiw~'hamakmne'waw j'h-y~m dnd'tsimi-yen. kAn uyi'nah nina'h niw )likd'hkinanan. 1928 Bloomifield, Menomini Texts 79 "Spirit people are these whom we see!" said the Indians1 in fear, and went off in all directions to hide in the brush. "Do not be frightened, my children!" said the white man. As though from of old did he understand his words, who had been spoken to by the Spirit. All came and stood there, looking at those people.2 Then the others gave them all kinds of things to eat, and gave them kettles; garments to wear, and hatchets, and all manner of things they gave them, including guns. They were frightened when they heard a gun. When it went off with noise, the Indian flung it away and ran for dear life. So now the Indians lived well, possessing all these things, such as garments, knives, kettles, and hatchets. With these things now they had a good life. After a time, when there were many of them, the Indians began to slay each other; the Menomini, the Ojibwa, and those of all languages were always fighting each other. Because they had made the puberty-fast, that was the reason that they always fought each other. They never ceased; whenever in any place they saw an Indian, right there they would kill him. Where they saw him, right there would they kill him. If some dwelt alone in a place, them too would they kill. All the Indians did this; they killed one another. Sometimes when a band of Indians forming a clan, were camping in a place, a war-party would come upon them and kill them all, including the children. In every way did the Indians do grief to one another. They would cut off all round his head here; "I have scalped him," they would say when they took one's scalp, these Indians. That was the way these Indians always did. The Indians of all different languages, none had pity for each other. This much is known to me. My grandmother, when she told stories, used to tell me all this which I am relating. I do not know it from my own experience. 1The word is that which above has been translatend as "people" and seems to be so meant a few lines on; it is used in both meanings, although in ordinary conversation there is a different word for "human being," namely, "he who lives." 2 Cf. the preceding note. IV. NARRATIVES. 6 82 82 ~~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 51. TALES OF THE ANCIENT TIME. (wd'pine'mehkiw) kcep4'2 1c's-ina-w nimii'hs~h; ke~ts-inei'niw kcjs-d'wiw. ahkcA'nuh o'hnAn lces-a-'tsnnowAn; nke-s-ditsimV'2takc inuh nimei'hs8h. a'yAwia as pis-pemii'tesit mamdi'tsi?taw, kcAna'mehtsiW ya'tSizW a lkAtd'-piAt kitsim6'hkcumiin, ini'2-pih kcayjs-&'tsimi'tua?, y6'hpih teh kcteim6'hkcuman tsi-m6'skcinet y5s y6'm minds mma-'tsi~taw lka ysmeg'nih. winu'a2 teh kdi"ye8-ke~ts-indi'niwAlc k.~dT'ts lkes-a'tsimo-wAlc y6'hpih mdiwa ni lkd'k6h 8 kAtd-pim4'skA/c, uni'2tik'nem lcitsim6hlumiin ahlki'hih ni/cut kAtd-pimng'pitelk, misi'lc ni/cut ispad'miah, h&'w, Misi'kc ni/cut nipi'hih. mdi'mah/cata'hkamikc mind'? s kcehlke'nah mamd't8i0taw; as misa'hkcAtewdt, nayd'nikutu'hlkin ni'wukun kcAt as mi'tsihsit, ini'-pih sawwd'nimikcut awdt'tulcAn. ini'2 tek wdh-kcehkgi'nah mind'? mi'wa kdi'k~h, U~sdi't s kjs-d'tsimi'tua2 ke~t8-indf'niwAkc. y6'hpih kctsim5'khumdn md'wa ni kdi'ko-h s isej'htsiket mind'2 Ues(t'tsimowA/c ke~ts-ind'niwAk. nahdi'w, y6'hpih ni'nah y6'm as ahpZ'htesi yen, ini'? sa'2yeh as na'rnan ini'h, ini'lcuh kcay~s-pit8-ind'tsimit kce~ts-ina'niw. awdi'tukc k&~-pits-ii'wiw a mnisa'hAtewdit; ini'2 kcayes-8 tthtdi'nah. nahdiW, ini'? wvinah inih d'htahneh. nah&'w, pind'h ni'nah inuh n6'hne2 5'hnAn: nik6'td& hpi'h m6'hkumiin cayg's-piAt, ini?-pih mii'wa ni kdi'/ch ea yis-pis-ta'niih mA~fl'tsi~taw: asWkan, ndrndpeh, pd's8ketsi'sikcAn, ni'2-ni/cuh /cayjspits-tandi'h. lud'w, misi'/c inih mah-md'waw nd't'tam lea y&-m~'nikcut s/c~tdwd'pu~h m-5'hkumd'nan mAm&'tsi~tazv, ni? kay~'8-k mi'ani, kcd'kch $ ke-8-wayda'simi/cut. y&'hpih teh leAn ka'kcol L' WiWAfl inih ini'kcuh lea yes-wa-iw~'tamakcut. ini'pa2 kiw-indi'tsimit nimdi'h6h kd'pi2. nalud'w, misi'k ni/cut lea ys-ah~pi'ts-awd'tukeit pdmdi'tesit mAmd$'tsi~taw. n6'hne2 ume'hs~mai'hSAn nikc6'tds s ki'waSkcipi'tua2, min? as ki8-pasj'palh6h; un~ndVlkanih tsi'leahlkyah mdi'nawats, ini?-pih lea y~past pah~k a'si'lean. waya'pah mi'p ndskd'nb niwv pima'tesiw. nahd'w, inih-apih ne'?nimd~'wAn kay~s-a~na'tsin, ini'?-pih lea yj-nAtii'mihtua? lke?ts-ind'niwAlk, ke-s-uhpU'Atua9; tipi/ldin yd'hpilts rn6'sleinewvAl kce?ts-inii'niwAle. naha'w, ini'2-pih: 'n~'MMAt\, nindt'pim. ay&'h ay6' teh ne?ni'mJdw pisd'hleiw~xl nisdi'ka~sam~wa'wAkc. su,'aile tahn6'kun leAn lee'le~h s m~'tsan, ini'2-pih lea y&-sawd~'nimi'tua?. y&'? teh ni ng'ye~h a leihud'nu wi'nah, ta?, ~'h-umAs lea ye —inii'lanamih, y6'win niw wiihnd'hnet. nalud'w, iniwin-pih di'nusiwdit a a-mi y&'winih. kaye,8 -nawii'ts-mirndkl nip~'w,. ini"Win-pih tsayT'keandi'htah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 83 51. TALES OF THE ANCIENT TIME. (Wapinemehkiw) Kapa' was my grandfather's name; an old man was he. Of yore his father told him stories; my grandfather told them to me. In the primeval state of things, as the Indians lived in the hither course of time, long before the white man was yet to come, they told of how at the present time the white man would occupy all of this continent which had been given to the Indian. And those old men of the ancient time foretold how all things would go today; how one of the white man's boats would speed over the earth, another through the air, and another on the water. It is marvelous that the Indian knew this beforehand; when he fasted, sometimes not eating for four days, that was when the spirits took pity on him and endowedhim. Thus itwas that he knew all thingsbeforehand, through the prophecies of old men. All the things that the white man does today, the old men predicted. And now I, at the age which 1 have reached, now do I see these things of which the old men used to tell in the hither course of time. They were endowed with mystic power from their fasting; that was how they obtained it. So much, then, for that. Now, as to my father's father: in time, when the white man had come, from then on the Indian began to have all manner of possessions: knives, axes, guns, were the things he began to own. Yes, and when, before all else, the white man gave the Indian strong drink, then, when he had learnedtouseit, then did the other cheat him out of everything. Today there is nothing of all that which the other had promised him. That is what my grandfather Kiapa' used to tell. Now, another story of how greatly the Indian was endowed with mystic power. My father's grandfather, once when they were drunk, was stabbed;.just below the nipple he was stabbed with a knife. By the next day he was barely alive. Then at once he placed some tobacco, and the old men were summoned, and they smoked; the old men entirely filled that tepee. Then, "Friends, I am dying. This tobacco I offer up to the Buffaloes. When for eight days I had eaten nothing, then they took pity on me. I am wont to think of them as being even here within my body. If truly they have taken pity on me and endowed me, I shall live." Now to be sure, it was even here, through his wound, that he was then drawing his breath. He ordered himself to be raised into place. Taking a drink of water, he rinsed his throat with it. 6* 84 84Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII "nalha'w, n e'rnAtAlk, kj'8pin piAtd'iyAn ~'h-y~m a-Ikia~t6'hneyAn ~1h-y'm w6'kiwAm, Ic~pi'n UMAS ydh-pi yen, mini9 a,, a-pemd'tesi yen. nalui'w, ts9?napii'htamukcun y6'm n~s!' y6'win ayid'yahkci'winit inuh MArnd'tsi~taw!1 skia~t6'hnet inih wtj'kiWAm. kayZ'8-pi!At, 'nahd/w, ini'? Iceh naw~nei'2s nina-pemd'tesim!' ini'pa2 4ndi'tsimit nimdi'h85h kldi'h nap, k1ay&s-ahpi't8-AWdi'tUk'di'wit ldi'ye8-MAMdi'tsi~tautw. wv&'?naw uti'h uma'nalcah, flyA'nAfl~nuh Ikutd'2nas s Icitskcit MAMa'tsi?taw, ini2-pti'h ayii'wik e-h-y5'rn a'tsimwvAn. naha'w, misi'k, nik6'tii, ini? nikut lkiw-ina'tsimit inuh nimdi'hs~h. s kes-pis-kakdi'putsihi'tit p6dmd'tesit. inu'h nikvn't rnAMa'tsitaw, aw~hpahpe-'sit, awMh-nehe~htuk, an~'p-8s d'wiwin unumi'2tikc6'nem; misik pike'wAn d'wiwin wd'2sukan, s kAta-nehe'htu.k. sa~yd'h kay&s-inimwAnitipd'hkah, ini'2-pih ndp kd.'lch tsiw-a'ndh tse-k si'timih 8i'piah. /kA? te'h ukdi'hkinawii'nan. pirni'h inih ini'? s kAtd'w-mctrnc'hah inuh ind'niwv, ktd~-rn~'sik. yii'hpits ni'w k-awt'n und'minan inih pim'h; ta'?, WAnitipa'hkAn. ini'2-pih w~'kupe-'hseh tsi-kehp~'sit; nis w~'sih misik iniu'i'n s a?si'tahpit~k inik wa'?8ukan uhkd'hnih, pa-po'tawAnd'htah inih pim~'h. iniwi'n as kdi~ts-dy5'8inA'kut ani'nuhkIditane~ni'k-ut; ke~tsi'h niwv uhsd'pumikin; lcAn teh uniiw&-'nan. UMA 's niw s n6'htawatsin, iniwi'n niw ds-ku'ahnet imis nipi'hih s k5'ket. ini? keh niw pdi'hpis s kjs-kA86'Wdt kU'matin. mni'? teh ma'wa ni ka"'kd&h 8 kes-nikdi'tenesihtah, up&'sketsisikAn, ut&'kurn, utii'hlcehkum, umdc'2tik6'nem. ta?-nak te'h misi tsiW-i'8iAt, ini'? niw wina'h ap inuk wanj'hsima'tsin kii'ta-ne?na'tsin ldi'h nap. ke?tsi'h niw y6'h-kAndk WZ'MAtAn'. hd'w, ii'? dind'tsirnit nirnd'hs~h ldi'pd?; inun'? utOi'tsimwAn aya-'wik. mni? mud'waw. 52. HOW A MENOMINI FREED HIS WIFE. (mAskwawd'nahkwAt~k) as wi'kitua? mama'tsi~tawAk nahd'?s niw, wve'w~n inuh td'h niw ind'niw, ni? nisi'k iis-ni'situa?. as tsi-pahp~'8it inuh indi'niw, nahdi'?s as ap~'t inuh mitd'muh, ini'?-pih tsi-pi'?takut nawa'ItupAniwAn. 'nahM'w, nj'pa?, mite'muh! kipis-nd'nin!' ini'win-pih seikehnei'?sahkua? inih wL'e'kWAM. s3 awindi'tua? anuh mitdi'muhsmn. payi'At inet'niW, pehki'h nisik pis-ndi'muahin misi w~'kiIh. ul~'wAn aneimikund'hamunin. mdi"t-mi'hikan a'wiwin ts-kUs-inim-isi'Atua2 akuh nAwa'tupAniwAk. iniwi'n-pih wvi'nah mayfl'skine'pyAtuk ini'h winei'?nak, mehki'k as mo 'skinepi'k. utii'?sikan as awdi't~k, uki'ninapehk6'hs8eh kay&s1Probably error of record for AkS'matin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 85 "Now, friends, if I can succeed in walking the round of this wigwam, back to this spot, then I shall live. Now then: look at my head!" Horns as long as this had that human man! Then he started from there, dragging himself on all fours, and calling like a buffalo as he went the round of that dwelling. When he had got back, "There; now perhaps I shall live!" That was what my grandfather, when he lived, would tell, of how greatly the Indian of old was gifted with mystic power. Far in the past, perhaps five times as far as the age of an old man, that was when this story took place. This story also did my grandfather use to tell, of when the people harassed each other in the hither course of time. A certain man went off to hunt with the jack-light, in a dug-out canoe made of an elm; of resin was his jack-light, as he planned to hunt with the torch. When night had fallen, he cooked something or other there by the river's bank. That was where he was eating, under a tree; a tree stood there. Then came a man of some tribe to slay him; he did not know of this man's coming. He was going to skim some fat for his supper. He could not see the fat, for it was night. So he tied some linden-bark to himself; here, at both sides of his head, at his forehead, he tied the jack-light, and proceeded to blow upon that fat. Then he who was intending to slay him, laughed aloud at him; from close by that other was observing him; but he did not see the other. The instant he heard him, he leapt, and dived into the water. And so, right then, our friend escaped his pursuer. He left everything in his flight, his gun, his blanket, his kettle, his canoe. Wherever it was that he must have gone, he who intended to kill him lost track of him. From right close by did our friend escape him. This then is the story my grandfather Kapii' told; his tale it was. That is all. 52. HOW A MENOMINI FREED HIS WIFE. (Maskwawanahkwatok) Where some people dwelt all alone, there were only the two of them, a man and his wife. When her husband was hunting, the woman stayed alone. Then some warriors came upon her. "Come, get up, woman; I have come to fetch you!" Then they set fire to the house and carried off that woman. When the man came home, he saw only ashes where he dwelt. His wife's tracks went yon way. It was a big trail over which those warriors had gone. Thereupon he filled a deer's paunch full of blood. Taking his knife and sticking his hatchet under his belt, he set out in pursuit, and, 86 86 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ni' kihtsiahit, as no'tspinda'htsiket, wi'htsitaw ini'win as Idi'2ts-w.~'pjt. Icawin ukc'hlcina'nan ta2aihpj'htsipd'htuk, as kdi'2ts-nehlk6'sit, w~'wan as lkiita'lihimih. -sa~ye'h nilk3'ds t pdpume'win as an/imaiwane'tinit an'uh nAWatUpA'ni WAn~. W ~ 'WAfl 1ay~s-un j'nitsin, iniwi'n-pih misi 'kki-kdihtswdi'pinimih; ini'win niw ahpd'nb inimi-ihpd'nanimih w~'wAn. nahii'w,min'win-pih aydkvu'ApahtUAnd'tsin; miy&'wv la'ti-pis-i8yA'nitI min'win s awMh-n~pu~wit a'kaw,. me~ti'kuh,. s3a~ye'h ke~ts3i'h pis-&'wvik, ini'u'in-pih tdhtd'wisah ini'h wena'9nAk,, u.sk-'hsikuvn s 5&sj'htukI, uitsi 'is, ut& 'n; min'win-pilh p8 '2sehkah inih wv~nd '9nak UMA~'s wIv'nih, m& d'wa niw as sik-wd'pinah inihimehki5'h,. 'kuh-ku~h-kuhf'ih!' Tw&d'hin. dn&'pitua2 ina'niWAk", si WIVYAk as n~puw~"vin. m,-itd'muh wd'wahte2 is8Zkd'puwi'win; md'wa niwv l-s-katW'hsinukin alci'lcuh ina'niwAlc. ini 'win-pih naydtinetuandi'tsin inuh ind'niw. 'naha7'wv, we~yAwe'keh, ume'2 ndmJ,'pehk65'hseh:- m4'wa niwv pihkitd'hpahin!'V mitd 'm~uh wdtwj'pi~tawin s ppirn-pakdm&'tsin ani'nuh ind'niVAnI, wi'~tnah nap inuh ind'niw ulc6'htakan as kjskisamuwa'tsin annh nd,'niWAn. ini'win-pih niku't nisik dslcuna'tua2 as a-lkjwd'nit. 1kay ~s-md~tsinand'tua2. 'unj' nun; n C'PaO awih-&tsimi'nun! misi 'k J' neh kAt pi'wAk; apesi'k pis-rndnd'kun!' ta2, ini'win niw misi'k dhpinAnd'tua2. Utsi'As as kUskisamuwA'tua2 misik uhta'WAlcAn misi'k y6'm ut6n as yah-pa9sisam~wd'tva2. ini2 d,'hlik. ahka'n~uh k-ay~s-is~'kit umd'2numin~w., h /cs-kutii'/ihikut lcayd"'nit is3e' 2nisiwAn, as 1ki-pis-nawtvnd'hukut, ahpdt'n niw 'ks-rmi'2tsinandiw. m~hkiurnd'n k-Aname'htsiw y~s as pis-mehkd'h yt3'm ahk~w, mni'?pih ayd'wilc. ahkdt'hku~n, pdisketsi'sikanasn, as,'kanan, p52sdi'hkakanan, m&'wa niw ldi'k~h wayd'nin&'hkua2 kj.S-pis-M~'nikuk m~hkqimi!V'nAn akum MAMa'tsi~ta'WAk. mini'9-pih tdh ay&'wik y~im a 'tsiMrfUAn. 539. HOW A MENOMINI WOMAN ESCAPED HER CAPTORS. (MAslcwawd'nahkWAt~lk) nipj'hseh a~s a'2telk, iniwi'n mind's as aki'htik; iniwi'n tdh s wi'kitua2 mAMd't,8i~tawAlk, as k52na'tua2 MAMa'tsi~tawAn s a-pis-ne?ni'kutua2. ta'2, ahka'nuh ahpad'n niw k~s-ne~ni't5WAk mAma'ts8i~taWAk. mini wd'h ini's mind'hsih s awMh-wi'kitua?; ta2. we'y~n kAta'w-pis5 -ne~ni'kutua2, pAs ndcwd'wAIC. nahd'w, nikut ind'niw we W~n ts3i-td'WAn; misik uki'2sAn tandi'win. 'nahd'w, kAt kitd'wi h-ni pd?; nina-w~h-ne~na'WAk apd'hsusuk,' ~wd'hin inuh inii'niw. ini'2-pih sa~ydi'h tsiw-utui'hpinui'hkua2 as papii'sihtukua2 'utay5'winuwa'wan; ini? as aslu' ahahkua2. kayes-piAtd'witsimad'tua? imi's ahlki'hih,ini'2-pih tsi-sakcipitulkua? inih 6's. ini?-pih tsi-lcuhpi'tua?, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 87 truly, he ran with all his might. He did not know how fast he ran' so raging was he because his wife was being made to suffer. Then at last he caught sight of those warriors filing along. Whenever his wife got onher feet, she was knocked downagain; inthatwaywas his wife being ill-treated on the march. So then he ran round ahead of them; straight in the way they were coming he went and stood behind a tree. When they were near, he cut holes in that deer's paunch, making eyes, a nose, and a mouth; then he put that paunch over his head, spilling all the blood. "Kuh-kuh-ku-hoo!" he cried. When the men looked that way, there stood some kind of creature. The woman stood there unmoved, but all those men fell prostrate. Then that man came up to them. "Come, wife, here is a hatchet; crack all their skulls!" The woman hurried and went about hitting those men, while the husband, too, cut those men's throats. They spared one that he might return home. When they had slain them all, "Get up; stand; go tell the tale! Let some more of them come; come in greater numbers!" Then they-ill-treated him, cutting of his nose and ears, and splitting his mouth further open, like this. That is the end of the story. That is the way the Menomini was of old: When he had been made to suffer, when those of other speech had come and attacked him, always did he exterminate them. Before the white man had come and discovered this land, at that time it was. Kettles, guns, knives, clothes, all useful things the white men came and gave to these Indians. At that time, then, did this story take place. 53. HOW A MENOMINI WOMAN ESCAPED HER CAPTORS. (Maskwawanahkwatok.) In a lake was an island, and there lived some people who feared that others might come to slay them. For of old the people were always killing each other. That was why they lived off there on the island; for, if any were coming to kill them, they could see them. Now, one man had a wife and a son. "Come, let us go off and camp; I shall go kill some deer," said that man. Then they took a birch-bark canoe and loaded on their various utensils; in this way they crossed over. When they had reached the land on the other side, they tied up the canoe. Then they went up 88 88Publications~, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI m5)'hpimih s awMh-wi'1kitud?.2 rnd'nawats MAsk~ftdi'iwint in is as in'? as tsi-ne~na'tin ni's ap'hsusun; minP- h ni j/i'hpis inuh mitd'muh UtdpU'Atsikan tsiwv-us~htu~k,. (lm pF.'2sisah ini' mitsi)ng'hseh as apU'Atah. 'nah&'w, ayJ '2sikinii'hnenun,, uiki '2s; vi' y~k Icd'k~h indwats~'hnituh; wj'pats lcWsisamah, w&'pah nehlc&'h kinaw-k-j'wd?,' inii'win?ukic'2SAn. nahdiv', inuh apdhni'hseh iniwi'n as ldi~ts-'w~atuk meh'wWAn, as kd~ts-pU~awe'tahkua2 inih mi'tsim~'hseh. ta'?, ahpjhtd'htuahin inuh indi'niw as pahpZ'sit. nilck'i's imi'~nakah wahlcitei'hkiah si kutdiw pis-is~'hsinukcin mama'tsi~taWAk. wawahta'2 niw is'kiwin, Icay"s-nadwatsin. usami'nukcin akuh mami'ts3i~taWAk. 'p6'ni~tah, niki'2s; nih-niku'h niw MAnIu'hnenun! ya'hpits kipiitsi'se5win inuh apahni'hseh. 'ha"? kih, ne~a'h, as a-p6'ni~tayan as ist' yen? mitsi' niw n6'hne? pahpT'sqiw. siw 'wnd'maw kina-p6'awe2. me~si'h wi'hkihta'wan meh-.p6'ni~tah, nilci's; inih-niku'h niw!' ind'win uk&'sAn. ta9, ini? as kAta-ne~n'htua2 sa~yd'h. iniwi'n ni'w ahpd'n dsiIhsi'hkua? akuh MAMa'tsi~tawAlk. wj'ki idik pehta'Ikin anuk uki'2sAfl as an?'h-MAnti'hnenit. 'kisi'2nehlki'nun, nilci's; yasehkaldi'nun,' ind'win uici'san; 'ikiti'hsAn lka y'nitun p62sd'hkah; uslk~'h-kima'lhkesinan p6'2sd'hlkah' ind'win;'wasi'hinun md'hkunit us6,3'namun,' ind'Win ukO'sAn. ta9, ini'win ni~w d'si~tAt inuh api'hni'hseh. ini'win-pih ayai'yapit inuh apahni'hseh. ini'win sa~yd~'h as ni'piNtAtua) akuh mAma'tsII?taWAk, pi-nwindi'hulkutua2. ini'win as ne~na'tua2 anuh a~pahnIhsAn; wi'nehkWAn - y6'wvin ds-mahs8u'atua? — i y6'?-nilkuh as liSkiSAMU'atua9. tapipuna'wAlcin h&'neh anuh mita'muhsAn as kehpinei'tua2. lka ys-lcehpin&'tua2, iniwi'n-pih ma yi'tsikua2 inih mitsim~'hseh; md'awa niw minf7i'h~sih p~hnaha'rnulkin nikuh 4`'sluahtiil'lkua2 inih mitsimi'hseh. niaha'wv, me~ti'k awMh-kV'kahah!' ina'wmn inuh uskdipd'iwis. ta"?, kay~s-pi't~k inih me~ti'lk, lay~'uh k~hnila'hah!'jiwa-'hin inuh miy.' wdw. ini'win-pih, 'ndpdhlkuaha'hkun!` uiiij2 tfh inih me~ti'k as napa'hkuhatua2 anuh apdhni'hs8An, Mi8~,wd' nbiw; UinA's y8'win as piAta'malkah ulk6'htaka'nih inih me~ti'lk. ini'vwin-pih tsayj'patukua2 as nipuwiha'tua2 anuh apdhni'h8An. 'ta9-na'lkah lkayEs-ini'M-isyAt inuhk lita'niniAmn?' ind'win mitd'muh. `umte?-leh-na'lkah keayes-ini'm-i`syAt.' 4naha'w, ini'nalkah kAt ina'2namika'puwiw ayum pdhni'hseh s awisa'pu~ma'tsin 5'hnAn. lk9'spin ind'niw a'wilt, keina-n,6'-tspinehuk6'naw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 89 land, to camp at a distance from the shore. Then the man went hunting. Then he killed two deer, and then the woman at once prepared her roast meat, cutting up the flesh and roasting it on the coals. "Now then, go pick up chips and twigs, my son; gather up all kinds of things; if we get our cooking done fast enough, we shall go home tomorrow evening," she said to her son. So then the boy made a great hauling of fire-wood, and they built a big fire for the meat. For the man was meanwhile away on his hunting. Then all at once, over on the high land, here, there, and everywhere lay people! She kept right on with her work when she had caught sight of them. Very many were those people. "Stop, my son; do not gather any more fire-wood!" The boy was covered with sweat. "Why do you tell me to stop, mother? Father is still hunting. We shall be all ready to make our fire, if I get plenty of fire-wood." "Stop, my son; it is enough, I tell you!" she said to her son. For now they were going to be killed. Those people were all the while lying there. In the end her son obeyed her and stopped gathering fire-wood. "Wash your face, my son, and change your clothes," she told her son; "Put on other garments and put on your new moccasins. Paint yourself with red vermillion," she told her son. So the boy did these things. Then he sat quiet there. Then soon those people rose up and came to where they were. Then they killed that boy. His scalp - in this way1 they scalped him, - so much of it they cut from him. Some of them seized the woman and bound her. When they had bound her, they ate that meat; all the meat that they left from eating they put into bags. "Now go cut a stake!" a servant was ordered. When he had brought the stake, "Sharpen it at both ends," said the leader. Then, "Impale him!" Then they impaled that boy on the stake, through and through, until the stake came out here at his throat. Then they planted it upright, so as to stafd the boy up. "In which direction did your husband go?" the woman was asked. "Why, in that direction he went." "Very well, facing that direction let the boy stand, that he may look out foi: his father. If he is a man, he will pursue us. - Now 1 Gesture of hand round top of head. 90 90 Publication~s, American Ethnologpical Society Vol. XII nakhd'w, pehk6'nehkun inuh mitdi'muh,; k"At kitii'wanu'naw. na&' keh na'p tap&'ni/cut unapyA'MAn, a-n6'tsp ine'hukx-' ~wdi'hin inuh miya'wadw. ahpdn di'win ha'wanih inuk 'mitd'rnuh. ini'wvin as k-i',w-inim-kdhtswd'pinih, as ki'w-inimi-tahkdi'skuh. 'kisi'Ahkah! lkina-pis-Ata,'mik kcina'piAm!' kiw-ind',wAkin. ~nad'wa niw ihtahs3i'tua? kiw-inim-ta~hka'sk'awe'WAkin; ma'wa niwi ks-ki?sehlcalkhd'wVAkin, zt p6'2s ehlcakanan as pak~'am~3wa'tua2. ta'2. ta'2 Pas a'si?tAt s a-nandihkit inuh mitdi'muh? ta'2, mana'WAkin akuh nawa'tupAniWAk. sa~yah ndi'hkah, iniwi'n-pih wayi'kitua2, kd'2ts-piitawe'tu~a2. mdi'wa niw 8ehk~hsinukin akuh nawd'tulpaniwAk. 'MAna"'hnenun!' ind'win inuh mitd'muh. 'wd'htsita'w ini'win as kdi'?ts-iniind'hnet. 'sa~nawa'hkWAtun Vkw~schah!' in/i'win misi'k inuh miti'muh; "nitdtskimi'naw; nilcataw-ak~t5'minaw anum nihkj,'tinawan.' iniwin-pih wi'nah mitd'muh me?,si'h kayj'skahah 8a~nawci'hkwAtun. k-ay&s-pi't8Ik, iniwii'n-pihpti'pimn-ts3~'patnlc a'silkAta'hstihkua2 aki'kuh irna'niwAk. iniwvi'n-pih wi'nah inuh in4'niw payi'AI imi',s kay~8-yo~h-m'rn'tiAt. kaku,'Anenalk4'nihtAmwin aki'?sAn tsi-k&s-ndpd'hkwahumih. kaye~ski~t&'hkuna'tsin, pdts-usj'hsime'win. 'nah&'w, njki'2s, y6's ni 8sa'sehkg'hsih!' ind'win uki'2sAn as kk' kit utawa'ts8in kay&s-nipd'nik; 'md'wa niw kinaw-inim-witsiwd'wAk aki'k~uh pis-kitd'mahdi'hkua2; lcAn wvi'nah naha4'2s niw kinaw-i'nimd'winan,' ind'win U.ki'?,SAn as kdkjce'kitu'tawa'tsin. ini'win-pih as Mcd'tsiAt as n~tspineh&'tsin zW'wAnl w~'pats niw piAtd'wipct'htawin. nah&'w, iniwi'n as ndwi'tsin We'WAn, wi'kUpiAn as pipi'm-ts~hsina'menik. 'h&'2 kdi'taw-isj'?tayan?' indi'win we 'WAnl. niikii'ta-kehp~'tuwa'WAk uhka't~wawan.' ~nah&'w, pdt-5hkhi-i in/i'win; 'ini'? niw a-y~h-ts'2napu'minan,' indi'win; 'ihpih a-md'?tinatua2 as a-ke~hpi'natua2,in'-i a-nAna'hawe'nikeyan, Y6'M s aw-isi'2tayan W~nih,' indi'win; 'ini'?pih teh ni'nah aw-ihp&'htawan. wtin6'ska~tuh inadna'peh,' ina'win we wun. ta"~', kaY& —md~"?ts-kehp~nd'tsin, iniwi'n-pih ndndhawe'nikit. iniwi'n-pih 4'hpahtuk inuh ind'niw. 'naha'w, wjyAwj'keh, wdiwj'pi?tah as a-piipAkama'tua2,' ind'win ini'? kdh as ni'situa? as papAkamd'tua? aI~uh nawa'tUpAniWAn..niku,'t kinaw-iskih6'naw irnd'n'nw s aw-awdt&'tsimit,' mnd win we -- W~xn. ta?, 41&pi'hts8i?tatua? niw as kiskikiyawelui'tua2, mni? keh m&'waw as mdi'?ts3-ne?natua? anuh ind'niWAn. niku't isk~nd'wAkin nd 's kAt 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 91 then, untie that woman; let us take her away with us. If her husband cares for her at all, he will go in pursuit of her," said the leader. Off and away the woman was taken. She was pushed and kicked as they went along. "Walk fast! Your husband will come catch up to you!" they kept saying to her. All of them by turns kept kicking her as they went along; all of them took off her clothes, throwing away her garments. For, what could the woman do to defend herself? Many, you see, were those warriors. When night came, they camped, building a big fire. All those warriors lay down. "Gather fire-wood!" the woman was told. Then truly she gathered much fire-wood. "Cut some forked sticks!" the woman was told again; "We are tired; we want to put up' our legs." Then that woman cut many forked sticks. When she brought them, she went from one to the other and set them up at the feet of those men, as they lay. Meanwhile the husband came to the place from which he had set out. He was horrified when he saw that someone had impaled his son. Taking him from the stake, he carefully laid him out. "Now, my son, do you lie here," he said to his son, addressing his dead body; "All of them will join you on your way, who have come here and destroyed you; not alone will you be as you go," he said to his son, addressing him. Thereupon he started off in pursuit of his wife. Running, he soon came there. There he saw his wife going about peeling linden-bark. "What are you planning to do?" he asked his wife. "I mean to tie up their legs." "Very well, tie them good and tight," he told her; "from here I shall watch you," he told her; "When you have tied them all fast, you will arrange your hair and do like this over your head," he told her, "and then I shall run to you. Have an ax ready," he told his wife. So then, after tying up every last one of them, she arranged her hair. Then the man came running. "Very well, wife, hurry and smite them," he told his wife. So then the two of them kept smiting those warriors. "Let us spare one man that he may take the news," he said to his wife. So they kept at it as hard as they could, cutting their throats with the ax. At last they had killed all of those men. One they 1 Literally: "hang up". 92 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII as pimdi'tes8init. iniwi'nt-pih undi'hk"An nayi's niw kay~skisam~wA'tua?, UMA Is1 s kiskisamt~wA'tua2 unnd'hkAn; Misi'k, Utsi'As kesleliamu'wewAk-, Mnisi'k Uhta'wAkAn. iniuwi'm-pih, m& 'wawr kayi '9tna'm~watua9 up6 '2 -s3ehkalkanan. au',mite'mnuh, d'sit ta~td'hkciskcAwin.' taQ kay~s-ihpdnani'hkua2I. iniwi'n-pih qni~t'muh td~t&'hlkiska~wi'tqi~n anth, in4'niwUAn m-isi'k im,?isjWd' niwv as kaki'slcisuv'a~tsin nuh ina-'fiuwt. nahd'w, m&'tsiah! apd'2,sik me',)sih pyA'kun,' in'in, as mihicawvi'htawi'ydk nilki'2s,' inii'win. nahdi'w, ini'win-pih, 'na~h&'w, di'sit kina-mahsu'Ana'WAk, we' y~tekeh, s aw-awdtd'puwvAnaki 'htua'? kikditslki'AminawvI&k wi 'nehkwAnAn!' iniwi'n-pih m& 'wawv IkaYes-mahsu'atu&,a?. miiwaw kaye-s-mahsu'atua?, iniwi'n-pih miniiti'hsih payi'hnehid'hkua2. iniwi'n-pih inuh ind'niw m'?tilc- d'wih-k9'8kahah; ini? a'sit as na-p&'h1cuha~tsin ani'nu~h,fliyaWa'WAn. kay~s-ndpd'hkuhatsin, iniwi'nii-pih nay6'puwihd~'tua2. ',is~'lpumi'n ke'matAk; kg's pin, wiyAk tapji'nih. kina-pi8-nAt~nd"'huk.' nta'ivAkin. inliwi'n-pih inihuithiu i&wwii6ha iuh mitd'makh. pV '2simik-apj'hkan- d'wiwin inih uta'pehkan inuh miyii'waw. ini?pih pis-kiwd'hta? ukci'2s5va'wvan as i'nit. ini'2-pih ts9i-na~yomd'ts3in) inuh ind'niw anuh n/ki'?SAfl, as kiwd'tua2. payilAt'tua? as alki'htelk inih 6's, iniwi'n-pih payipyA'kIduah as kd?ts-ay6-h5'hit. taydpehtd'hkua? alki'kuh mamJ'ts8i?tawAk, iniwvi'n 4'ts3 muh ke?tsii'iw'm&'iwa mniw pena~tsi1ki'kun. mi-sik d/neh, tsipa'hkikun; kd'k6A is6'kiWAk kinitSiAnurni'naWAk.' a'nim~i-piAta'witsima'tua2 ini's mina'hsih. iniwi'n-pih ma'waw payihpaht'a'kua2 akuh rnam&'tsi?tawAlc as pis8-na-na'tua? anuh apdh-,ni'hsn. kay~s-piAtd'wihatiia2, iniwi'n-pih kayisisi'ahkitua? as m1ind' tua? iniih rm~'tsim. wd'wahtd2 lca'?ts-dyaya'niwvAkin as mi'tsihsitusa s vna'nilki'nihtdi hkua2, me~si'h inai'ni-wAn s aw-inirn-witsiwiid' - tsiut inuh apdihni'hseh. kay~,s-ani'h-mi'tsihsi'tuia?, ini'win-pih 1caYdi'?ts-nibmihe'titua?., m&'wa ni~w as tahk5'nahkua2 nuk wi'nehkwAIbun, as usi'htulkua? nikd I'nUAnAn. ini'lt niwv k-ayg's-papam-ist'kitua&, min'win niw d'nahama-'situa? akuh mama'tsi?taWAk-. ini2 d'hkik. ahlka'nuh d'tsimuAfl a-'wiw, kaY9s-i4i'ki~ta2 umab'?nu)nine'WAl. nine? n6'hkumeh ayd'teh ukatski'Armxn mini9 kaY&s-isj'kinit. n5'hkumeh nike-s-n5'htawaw as &'tsimit. ayu,',ik misik, ayu'm,i misik ayu'm, ak&'? teh aya'witua? n~ikit~tln'As~italh: (dk'? k-ayes-mikil'hkituaO. %A esture: right band chops across wrist of left. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 93 spared, letting him live. They cut off both his hands; right here (at the wrist) they cut off his hands; and his nose they cut off and his ears. Then they took off all his clothes. "Now then, wife, do you kick him in turn! As they abused you, so do you deal with him!" Then that woman kept kicking that man and kept cutting him with a knife all over his body. "There, be off! Just come, more of you," she told him, "you who outrageously killed my poor son!" she said to him. Then, "Come, let us scalp them in return, wife, bringing an offering of food to our ancestors, in the form of their scalps." Thereupon they took all their scalps. When they had scalped them all, they put the scalps into a bag. Then the man went and cut a stake on which, in turn, he impaled that leader. When he had impaled him, they set him upright. "Be on the look-out for your friends; if anyone cares for you, he will come and seek you," they said to him. Then the woman took on her back the leader's pack. A pack-strap of china-beads1 was that leader's pack-strap. Then they came back to their camp, where their son was. Then the man took his son on his back and they went home. When they came to where the canoe lay, he gave the war-whoop, shouting loud. When those people, heard the sound, an old man said; "Do you all make things clean, and some of you cook; something has happened to our young people." When, in due course, their canoe reached the island, all those people came running up to take the boy. When they had brought him in, they made done the cooking and gave him the foods. As though nothing had happened, they laughed boisterously as they ate and made merry, because that boy would have many men to accompany him on his way. When they had finished eating, they had a great dance, all of them holding scalps and making up songs. Whatever anywhere happened to them, of that these Indians sang. That is the end. It is an old tale of how some Menomini fared. To my grandmother's ancestors it happened, some generations back. I heard my grandmother tell it. This one, and this one,'and this one, the sixth generation back were they who thus fought. 1 The much-prized wampum. 2 As a sacrificial act. 94 94Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xii 54. THE DEA TH OF A SPY. (Jeromte Lawe) nik~td's laih d'neh as tsi-wdwi'kitua2, ta'?, wdni'tipdi'hkah as tsiwini'm-dyei'tsimit inuh ind'niw, inuh mitd'muh nilc~te's imi's ah taiwand'pit kehtdi'nikA'mikuh, int'ni'w siiwas5 ne'pu wgwin. 'ta'?, tdp&'pahtsikdw tsiW-&'WiW!' Ikawin p6's inuh miti'mulh ktd'Wv utdis-mdi'tsihki'8kAnAn. si kg'mdt~s w~htam~wd'win ani'nuh unapi'eMAn. ini'win V'ts: 'inei'niw ume"? as n6'p'awit keht4'nikcmnikuh; ini"? pi~s-y~h-tatldki'puminah,' ind'win ani'nuh utnapi'eMAn. inuh ind'niw wi'nah ap w&'wahte'? iniwi'n-pih apd"?,siko kayd'2tsaya'tsimit; ahk6'2sik pipi'm-uUj'hpinewin umd'2tikwAn s niipa~t4'hsimatsin; imi'nAlk tdh as is-in6'hilket inih w6'p. nik~t&'s niw tniwi'npih kayi'h-pimu'atsin ani'nuh ini's tsi-ng'puwinit. ahp4'n d'win pd'mim.,- ts~'tsi'hkihsih inuhk ind'ntiw 'Ii's3 WAhk?/tikAmilc. ta'? iniwi'npih tdh wd'si'?tahtua? as itsi'mitva9. iniwi'n ini's 1cayj's-is-pim&-'t-sihesitita2. 55. THE TALKING' DOG. (kci,9wat6'seh) nikut mamdi'tsi~taw uti'hseh8An k6'kitutii'kin. nik6'tds w9'wan iniwin tsiw-ina-'tsin: 'nahA'w, mditsi'ah;, kkd'tawne'2niku'nawalc mamii'tsi~tawak.' inuh Ana'm inu'win ayii'tsimit: 'iCAs mtsi'w ayum; kkii'taw-ne'2 -nileunawak manui'tsitawvak. kitdn65'MAn us96'htuh; kinaw-mikd~n6'nawaic. wAnitipa"'hkah kAt4'w-pi'WAk'. nah&'w, p~tawe'nun me~si'h; s8a~yeh pis-wa'pah, ini2-pih kef'taw-piisketsisunii'hkua2. nahM'w, Icinaw-m~Aiin6'nawakc, ni'?a-'t,' 9u'&'hin nuh Anei'M, 'nbiktu/tAl utsipi'WAAX' nahd'w, iniwin-pih, sa'?yeh pis3-wd'pah, iniwin-pik ay~h6'pit, pd'sketsisilkutua?..nahM'w, kitd'wih-ne~n6'nawak!' ni's nisi'k, ni/kut i'nuh ind'niw Uti'hsehsAn. kay&s-mi'tsihsit'ua?, kayg8-mi-di'hkcitua2, sa~yeh aya-'hpits-wdi'pah, ni"win ma'wa niW AS 1kis-ne'2natua2 nilci'tUAlk, nikcut indiniw ni/cut Ana'm tdih mi'silc. nilcu't ni~si'Ic niw lkAn unii'2nanuwa'wan as3 a-w~h-d'tsimit ini's wg'kuwa2. 56. THE TALKING DOG. SECOND VERSION. (Jerome Lawe) nakhi'w, nilc~td's lceh ni/cut ind'niw wdi'?nawv nahlud'2s as tsi —wiwg' kit as pd'~pahpisit, ta"?, UMatim6'hs9eMAn misi'l tdh units8i'AnehBAn nikcu't a'wiwAnir&. uti'hseh8An teh tAnd'win weihtsita'w tdp'ina'tsin; wdhtm!ita'wj inuh And'm mi'hkuA~nem5'wviwin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 95 54. THE DEATH OF A SPY. (Jerome Lawe) Once upon a time, when some people were staying in a place, as the man of the house was telling stories at night, the woman happening to look up at the smoke-hole, why there stood a man! "There, he must be a spy!" By no means did that woman act excitedly. In an unnoticeable way she told her husband about it. What she said was: "There is a man standing there by the smokeopening; from there he is observing us," she said to her husband. Thereupon the man, as though paying no heed, told his stories with all the more interest, until, finally, he went and picked up his bow and stretched it,1 pointing the arrow in that direction. Then suddenly at one time he shot the man who was standing there. Out of sight fell that man, crashing on the roof. Then, of course, they made ready to flee. In this way, the story goes, they there saved their lives. 55. THE TALKING DOG. (Kisewatohseh) A certain man was spoken to in human fashion by his dog. Once he said to his wife: "Now then, go away from here; some people want to kill us." The dog spoke as follows: "Let her go away; some people want to kill us. Get ready your bullets; we shall fight them. At night they will come. Now then, make a big fire2; at daybreak they mean to shoot at us. Well, we shall fight them, friend," said the dog, "a hundred Ojibwa." Then, when day broke, someone gave a whoop, as the enemy began shooting at them. "Come, let us go kill them!" They were only two, that lone man and his dog. When they had eaten and when they had fought, by the time full daylight had come, they had slain the hundred, one man and one dog. Only one they did not kill, that he might go tell the tale at home. 56. THE TALKING DOG. SECOND VERSION. (Jerome Lawe3) Once upon a time when a certain man was staying alone far away and hunting, he had his wife and his child; and he had a dog which he loved very much; a very good and helpful dog it was. 1 By way of expository gesture to accompany a story. 2 To melt lead for bullets. 3 He had the story from Kisewatohseh (see first version), but apparently got it better than I. Publication~s. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII n~il6tii'8 as pahpg'sit, - ta'2 WztSi'Alkin ani'nuh uti'hsehs~n, - pislkg'wit, inuh ind'niw, inuh Ana'm kawi'n UPYA InAn. W6', n1AWd'h, kaYd'2t8-WAniti~pa'hkah, pi'win inuh Afla'mn k~iinniw kayi'kitit inuh And'm: WhI. ni~a't, apdhpeni'siwAlk!' jwi'hin; 'lkikii'ta-kin6'nilke2. tsiyd' teh ayn'm kimdtim6'hsem kAts8 nit&'wanaw kuto!2nAs as aw-aw9'h-kyA'nAk: kina'h, Oh usg'2tah; kitdn6'MAn me~si'h usg'htuh.' ta'?, kd'2tin iniwin-pih maydi'tsyAt as MiyaWi'Atolc, anu'h tdh rnitd'muhsmn as awdnd'tsin, kutdi'2nM as aw~%-'h-Anii'tsin. )ahtd'w, ayo&' teh indi'niw iniwin as use'2tAt, utano'MAn s usg'htuk. s3a'?yd'h yffh-pi'win inuh Andt'm. nahd'w, iniwi'n-pih td-h d'hlkund'htsikitua2. kdi'2tin sa~yadh pis-wd'pah, kLni'Uwin niw pipyA'lcutAn wa'htsimit, sa?ydi'h as tsiw-lkin6'nihtua2. ptihpesi' ta? usJ'matin inuh Anct'm d~s-kd'2ts-mikdi'hki-t, wina'h ap inuh inei'niw as mikcd'hkit. ta?, 1k9s-nt5'hkcihe'WAkin idhl niw; niku't tidh lk9s-iskcihd-'WAkin s aw-awg'hd'tsimit dhpinAnd'tua2..5I7. THE S TO RY OF PEHK UTSIA N. (di'puwd'Ihku2Am1) nlirnd'he8uh pehkii'tsiAn uta'skitsi'AkAnAn ulci'?8An kUs-tdwAn. n&iki~td's MAMa'ti?tawAn s k&~-ne'?nikut wdcWAna'slkiwn, s lk&9-mr'k nit'hsuh, ini? s kgs-misdi'hkAtewdt nilcu't pip6'n m'isil &'pehtaw, 'nahu'W, lcAta's Ikinaw-mi'tsihsim,' iku'ah; 'kikc~'sen Icay&.-ne'2natsin lcitii'hsamin. nine'? kayes-saw4'niMAk,' iku'ah; 'kina-na-'ncdw,' iku'ah; 'kitei'hsarnin. nah&'w, kayis-sawa"'nimi'J ki&td'hsamsn s amu'at. apdhn~'h8Ak teh ni'w kina-wana'wAlk. sa?yeh teh. kina-1kg'wdim. mAs k!'lcih we'kiwAm kinaw-An6'siwem hAnd'p s aw-a"?telc. ni'wulkun kinaw-9'm 9'mi's, kilkg'h teh ne'w apdhnq-'hs8A lkirnti'Anehsmk. ini's teh kine-nd'siwem awd'hseh. kit i'pehni'hsemAk kinaw-anona'wAk awd'IhsAn s aw~h-ne'?natua?. kine-nai'siwem nawcai's nuh awd hseh;ng'?-pih teh a-miitsi/ yen s a-Ma'nat kiki'?s8en kaye-s-neona'tsin.' a?-pih maya'tsiAt, pd'n niw ni-w6'htAm mind'? keta-nim —isi'Atua?. naah&'1w, nik~td's s ni-nip&'tua2, 'hd'w, wd'pah nd'wahkik, ini? s piAta'yah pis-isi'yah. sipi'ahseh pimd'hnen; ini? s a-wg'ki yak.' I So he gives his name; the Menomini call him also 4'puwd'hkcu?Akc; English nm: t84'nl p4'tUs. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 97 Once as he was hunting he was accompanied by his dog. When he came home, the dog did not come. Oh, very late, when it was entirely dark, that dog came home. Suddenly that dog spoke in human speech: "Now, friend, we are in great danger!" it said; "we are going to be attacked. I had better take your wife here to some place and hide her; but do you get ready, make plenty of bullets." Thereupon it really went off, taking the lead and conducting the woman, to hide her somewhere. The man, however, made ready, preparing bullets. After a while the dog came back. Then they mounted guard. And indeed, at daybreak someone sounded a war-whoop and they began to be shot at. In what followed the dog fought incredibly well, and the man, too, did his share of fighting. And in the end they overcame them; but one of them they spared that he might go tell how they had disposed of them. This, they say, is what happened there. 57. THE STORY OF PEHKUTSIAN. (Apuwahku'am1) My grandfather Pehkutsian2 had a youngest child, a son. Then it came to pass that he was slain by some people, Minnesota Sioux, and my grandfather wept bitterly and fasted for a year and a half, until, at the end of this time, he was addressed by a spirit. "Now then, it is time that you eat," it told him: "Him who has slain your son I shall feed to you. It is I who granted power to him," it told him: "You shall go fetch him," it told him; "I feed him to you. Even so, him to whom I granted power, I feed to you that you may eat him. Four young men you will take with you. And now you are to go home. There, by your dwelling you will order a lodge built, a ways off to one side. Four days are you to stay there, together with the four young men, your children. And there you will give a feast of bear's meat. You will bid your boys go kill a bear; before you set out you will give a feast of bear's meat. Thereupon you will go forth to fetch him who has slain your son." When he set out, on the way he always announced beforehand to what place they were coming on the way. Then once, as they were camping for the night, "Now then, tomorrow at noon we shall arrive at the place for which we are bound. A brook flows by there; that is where we shall pitch camp." 1Informant, who goes also by the English name of John Pateesh, is a Potawatomi who married into a Menomini family and lived many years on the Menomini Reservation. The chief linguistic peculiarities of his Menomini speech seem to be excessive vowel-shortening, and fronting of short a. 2 The name means "Ball of Basswood Twine". 7 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pjayiAta'tua?, misi s wi'kcitua2, nah&,'w, ini2-pih annd'tsin: 'nehkii'h., sipi'"ahseh MAS 5 nti'wahki/c, mdts-sipi'ahs3eh ini? s pi8-umiinepE'vi/c, - inj2 a-pis-isi'At n'uh pis-na'nalk mama-'tsi~taw. nehldi'h, ini2 pis-i8i'At; nih sipi'1xhs8eh Ajpis-pim&'nAkarn~w. nehk-&'h apehte-tij/i'hkah, ini2-pih a-pi8-aku'A?tet. ayg'tuh kinaw?,-ApimuAuA; kina-nani-'s8i - rnUAW teh. ni/cut ndind'peh A-kkeka'puwiw. tipdi'h pim~hnet, ini2-pih a-kutdpa'md/c. ini2-pih iwnin&'peh a-pAkama'tsin hki'kanih, ktciSkkliYAwe~uitsin. nipi/hih Ikinisiihkmuu wa's, misi'k inih Wel' YAW; kinis3f'hkawva'wiiw. kispi'n kitk'hkinAImdkc nih we's, ini2 3 yd'h-pihtd'hkcihneh hki'kcanih. IcAni' nAWct'h uimdn ya'hpits3 nip&'MAkcAt nih we',s;?flik nih We'yAw nAWa'h a-nip8'mIAkAt. mbi'p min8s caw-i'ydik A-?na1ti' yak s na'wah/ci/ inalcah, ayg'tuh 8ipi'Ahseh uhta-'k&dm kina-ndini'simuAW. wc'h-pis3-m6'hkahah as pi8-ntatdwa'pumikut wvg'maten, mme'h,nanaWe'htawAkc, nayi',s alcikuh ntii'hs8Amikdim. nayi's kina-ne~nawdi'WA/c. kc-8-ne'2nikua2, lkinaw-kiski/ciyAwehaw&td'wqxlck. ini2-pih a-'pi'snahd'w, ini2-pih pis-kgw4'tua2. payiAtu,'a2 'umd'nilkenua2, minwin s ni'mihetitua2. ini? s mini'nihtah uki'?s3An kAy&s-ne?tu' Abut s kgsn~e 2namtin lza'sit. hM'w, ini2-pih /cay&s-us~'tAt apdhni'kSAn as wghtam6wa'tsin: 'wiyAk inai'nihtah s a-wtsvitwit, ini? ka'taw-isi' yen misi Mawm'ts8i~taWAl s wi'kitua?; ini? mei'waw mLd'wawv niti'hsami/ccdm, awdh-ne'2nakcua?.' nahii'w, ini%-pih /cay6s-m&I'tsiA t, apdhzni'hsAn awa-nc'tsin. payiA - t4'tua? niya-'wahlki/, ini?-pih di'hsAMih s a-rni'tsihsit. /cAn teh winah wi'yAn s 61hts3'h/cAna'ts3in; ini'? /cayg's-ingh mii'wa niw s a-pina'tsin apdhni'hsAn; ini? 1kayg's-ingh. mii'wa teh niw lkays-ne?na'tsin, ma-'nahud'w, teA misil ni/c6tgi's kay6s-Mei'tsiAt,. pi'a'h/ciWAn) /js-nAt6 -nit'hdw, 8/ci'tiah-pisgi'hkiWAn. iniwin-pih as kc&-ndtva'tsin mAmd'tsi?taWAn; ini?8 sk1cs-pitsind'tsin wema'nikAnit 5 k&-WitSi'A/cut. imii?pih /cuh MAm'tsi?tawA/c pis-niwe-na'huhtua?. h&' n1Iss snne'in uti'h uhs~ipumi'/cutua2, 1kAtaw-ne?ng'kcu/. ini? s 1kis-kanaipumi'htua'? a-pahkiAtii'kua?; ini? s niwv-/Andipumi'htua?. nilk6Ui's s wva'pah, ini? s pahkiAti'/cua?; niya-'wA~hki-k, ini? s kUs-kutdipd'mihtua?. ni/cut.wgh-dtsimi'nun! k~mati'ncaWAk wvjh-w~htam5',win:- MAmd'tsi?taWA/ ni/c6'tapami/cu'nawAk. nit'u'k d'si/ceh s a-pemd'tesitua? nge'MAtAk. ini? teh kpi8-u'6htamunine'MUAW, s aw-isi-'ydk/." ini?-pih maydts3i'Atua?; md'wa niw nAy6'mi/cbwik. ini?-pih pa$yiA - /citua?, ni/citu'As3itahni'uwa-n s s'2nisit mAma-'tsi?tawv, kcay&s-ind'nihtah anih mAmct'tsi?tawAn, kAt niki~tuh 'pdni'h' s a-w-ikt'meh; ini? kayg8-ind'nihtah. ini? teh /Cay98-si'/cihat~in. 1928 Bloomfield, Menonini Texts 99 When they came to the place where they camped, he told them: "Tonight, - there, to the south, a brook, a large brook springs forth, - to that place he will come, that person whom I have come to fetch. Tonight he will come to that place; he will come wading in that brook. Tonight at midnight, that is when he will come forth. At both sides of the stream you will post yourselves; you will be in twos. One will stand holding an ax. When he walks even with where you are, then you will set upon him. Then that one will strike him with the ax on the back of his neck, chopping off his head. In the water two of you will attend to his head, and two of you to his body. If you lose hold of his head, at once it will slip into place again upon his neck. Not until long afterward will that head of his really die; and his body, long afterward will it die. Early in the morning, when you go away from that place, toward the south you will go in pairs, on either bank of the brook. And when his brothers come at sunrise to look for him, two great warriors, both of them have been given to me for my food; both of them shall you slay. When you have slain them, you will chop off their heads. Then you will come back here." After that, they returned home. When they came to their town, they held a dance. He was glad now that he had in turn killed him who had slain his son. Then he made ready, announcing to the young men: "If anyone wishes to go with me, I plan to go where some people dwell; all, all of them have been given to me to feed upon, that I may go slay them. " Then he set out, taking young men with him. When they reached the south, then he was given food that he might eat. And not one did he leave behind (dead) on the field; this indeed he had been told, that he should bring back every one of the young men; this he had been told. And when he had slain all of those others, then did he and all his men return home. And once again, when he had gone forth, he hunted buffalo. Then he came upon some people; then he invited them to come with him to his town.Now, these people were being sought out by some enemy. As he was taking them with him, those others watched them from the rear; they intended to slay them. They were being observed with a view to their parting company; they were being watched on the way. One morning, they separated; when noon came, they were attacked. One man got through the enemy's line. "Go tell the news; go tell our friends: 'Some people are attacking us. I wonder if it may be that my friends are still alive. So now I have come to give you this news, that you may go there.'" Thereupon they went forth; all of them were on horseback. Then they came to that place; then they dismounted, to slay those others. That was when they fought that battle, six tribes of people of different speech, who had decided in their minds regarding those other people that "never again shall the name of 'Pawnee' be spoken." This was their intent. And then they saved them. 7* 100 100 Publications. Amuerican Ethnologfical Society Vol. XII nd'hkah kum mitdi'muh8Ak, 'kitii'wih-tsg2napum6rA'naWAk; hd'u', kikti'nini'AMinaWAk kita',SiA2!' jwd'1kin. mdkc-mi1k&'hkitu~a2 MAMd'ts3i~tawAk, imi's3 dnd'pitua2, usdi'matin MAMa'tsi~taWAk1! iniwin-pih kay&s-usi'mitua2. mitd'muhsAn teh a'wiWAn, nih sayd'lkihi'kutva2. nuh meyii'wdt iniwin d/Is, 'kAts kitii'simi2; usd'mat kind'pji?; tsiyd'wv k.,\ts kitit'simi2!' d'pehtaw kjs-usi'rnitua2, ta2-nikuh kaygs-usi'mitua? mAmd'tsi2 -taw.,k, kay&s-usi'mitua?. mis wd.'2naw payiAta,'tua2, mini s kg8-dmmika'titua2 winu'a2 niw. me~si'h k6,q-ne~na'wAk, inis teh sk9,3-kAtdwrnini'nihtah, utdpdhni'hsiMAn me~sih wAne'hsiMAtsin. 'lkine'2 teh kayg's-iydn ayum mAma-'ts3i~taw md'wa niw s a-ne'2na — kih, ka y6's-i ydn. kakd yi' teh kinah uti'h ka yd'nituh kit~hts8ikA'puwim. lkAsa'pituk ind'niw kitd'winan!' mni? dnd'tsin ninuh, 'usd's dkd'yan, ind'ni nitd'wim. nit,8-ind'niw 8 na,'WAk, kAn nik6'tuh nitd-siki'puwe-nAn. kAs kinaw-tepdt6hike?; ind'ni nina/h ap nitd'wim.' wikwAna-'sktw PA5 d't, 'meka/nAk ne'ts-MAma'tsi~taw, n~hkcin~'s nd/WAkc, nits-imni'niw nayd'pdt kaki'hkih-is9'?nisiw, nets-we' yAWekeh niki-WdWg'ts-MAMdW.' p-tdwd'timiw ind'niw d'wiw. nd'pa~tew as mikd'hkit. kahpih pd/sikukAsi'wAn neyii'milkit, uhki'kAnih uhpd'nics sd/e hkihs i~,mayicd'hkit, uhkcd'hnih pimi'w, dhpi'ts-n&'pa~tit. misi'/c imi's3 spAkcj'tsi6kAtd'hsih uhpd'h/cWAnih, uhtsi'/cWAnih misi'w, dhpi'ts-nd,'pa~tet. nahd'w, ini'?. pehkft.'tsiAn ni? d'nih nimd'hso-h. 58. GETTING BOUNTY FROM THE ENGLISH. (mAskwaw6r nahkwAt6/ck) n6'hkumeh y6'm as ind"'kinit, metd'tah ni's-in6'h pepon as a/wit 'ni3'hku~meh, ini'2-pih kay&-niffimi'kutua? 8d'lkand'hsAn, s'&'n~yen s kWdwy-mi'nikutua? misi'lk p3'2sehkd'hkua2 misi'k mayi'tsikua2. ini'2 pih wiki'h-5,s /ay&-u8i'htukua? u1md'?numinj'wvAk; ni'wineh d'yahkiwAn wilkih-5'nAn. ini'? tdhi, kaygs-ki'"sihtukua9, ini'?-pih kayis-PO' sgihtu'kua? utd'kumuwd'wan u~td'hkehkuwd'wan. ini'?-pih tdh - nitsi'Anuk kjs-mdnd'WAkc - ini'2 m&'waw as k/c's-p5'sihi'htua2 nitsyA'nuk. ini' 2-pih misi'k mamd'h-ayiik ni'w1 kay&a-p'8itua2, as pimiAnii'tua? 1urnitsyA'nehsuwa/wan. ini'?-pih - mawa niw nikuh wayi'hkihe's8it ua2 umd'2nuuming'wAk kis-u'itsi'Akuk, md/wa niw tipd'h niwv as a/ci'htekin 5/nan. I'So my notes; but it may be only ni'w. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 101 In the evening these women, "Let us go look at them; come, let us go where our men are!" they said. While the people were fighting, when they looked over yonder, there were ever so many people; then they fled. But it was only the women who thus frightened them. Then that leader said: "Let us take flight; in too great numbers we are dying; let us needs flee." When they had fled half the way, as many of those people as escaped, and in their flight had reached a place way over yonder, then they very nearly had a battle among themselves. Very many of them had been slain. Instead of the triumph which he1 had anticipated, he had lost many of his young men. "You are the one who said that we should kill all of those people; so you said. But really you stand back, away from the fray. Indeed, it seems you are not a man!" And he answered hint, "Being called Osage, I am a man. When I come upon my fellow-man, never do I stand back. Just let us try a contest; I too am a man!" And the Minnesota Sioux may have said, "When I fight against my fellow-man, friend, when I attack my fellow-man of male sex of every language, I always take along my wife." The Potawatomi is a true man; he is a good marksman when he fights. When someone is mounted on a horse and clings to its neck and chest with only his head exposed in the battle, the Potawatomi shoots him in the forehead, so good a marksman is he. And when, as he leans over the horse's back, his leg hangs down, the Potawatomi hits him in the knee, so good a bowman is he. That is all. Pehkutsian, that was my grandfather's name. 58. GETTING BOUNTY FROM THE ENGLISH. (Maskwawanahkwatok) When my grandmother was as big as this, being twelve winters old, then the people were summoned by the English, who wished to give them money and things to wear and things to eat. Then the AMenomini made birch-bark canoes; four fathoms long were the canoes. And then, when they had completed them, they put into them their blanket-robes and their kettles. And then, - there were many children, - then all the children were put on board. Then four(?) grown people got in, to take along their children. Then all the Menomini, as many as were able, went along, all the canoes being launched at the same time. 1 Presumably the instigator of the attack upon the Potawatomi and their allies. 102 1u2Publications. Amzerican Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini"'X2pih mnayatsyA'tua? as pimi 'tsimet'ua2. kAn u idi'inuw&' wan ahkg~'w ta'2-nakalh asyA'tna2; kg'sc35nan k9,s-ts9'2napunuI4'wAk: as m6'hlahah na'kah kjs-isi'?Ak miya' niwl. kd'taw-mdftsyA'tua2, ini'?-pih kaygs-kdi'~t8-8akdi'2sahtsikdi'tua2, nipi'hih awd.'tukAnI as mamii'ahtuviatuiw2, sanawd'2 niW s pyAtdi'tua2 misi'k s a-ydh-pyA'tua2. k~s-pehtda'kuk-. kAn nik&'t'ah kjs-n5'we~nenwI-n ayd't-pimi'tsimetua2. mitd~'tahnu 'bkin k68-pirn0'tire'wAk tfi'tipeh ti'hkwab, kdkli'sih a,'hkwah; 7iyi',suk isi-nipi'_'WAk1 mamna'h-ay&'k pd'm~ilsivuid'tua2. ini'2 kutd'2nas as n6'we~neh; mdt'nawats i'ni'? as mantsi's8kak nipg'W; ini'? 2 s8d'kisitua2 mita'muh8Ak as, m5'lcua?. ini'2-pih ni/kut marn&'ts8i~taw mayg'nih ne~nimd'wan, inuh kaYe-s-kd~ts-misiid'hkAtewdt, nipi'hih kayg8-paw&'tah, ut'ihpine'win ne~nima'wan, as lkakikIitit, nipi'hih as po~nd'tsin ne~nimdi'wan. ini'h-pih k-ay98-ani'h-kdiki'kitit, ini'2-pih mei'wa niw kaY9,s-nikei'mitua2; in~i'2 as k&~-nakca'skal: as3 no we~neh. ini'2-pih waydi'pitsima'-tva2. as pa'pimi'tstme'tua2, as kiw-inim)niitsikuua? ma'nawats Icd'lc~h kaY~s-kitiikd'tua2, ini2-pih m6'sah mdi'nawats sg'wiht&,'kan tsi-ki-mi'tsikuta2. ini'2-pih nipe-'w tsi-mindi'kia2: imi' 2 as ti'pini'tua2. as mnd'lk-nim-misik-pimi'ts8imetua2, ini'2-pih tsi-n6'we~neh. t&'2, mini as kAta'w-nipda'kua2, Wkipin Ici'2t8-n6'we~neh. ini'2-pih wiki'lhuneild'hSAn tsiw-usi'htukua2 ni'w; ini'2 tah awdi'tukg'h8An aydi'n ihku'an nii'nilcut as tsi-pi'/&nahatua2 mnis wikIh-unikd'hsihsih; ini'?pih nipi'hih di'?tukua2 ani'nuh unldki'hs8An. ini'win, as k6'hlcawe'makalt aninuh uniidk'hs3An; iniwi'n-pih ni-tsi'Anuk- may'a'hihtua2 as kdi'2ts-mii'ku~a2 nitsyA'nuk; ini'2-pih mji'wa niw tsi-k&'kiti'tua? aki'kvuh mama'h-a ydk. mii'? kdih ma'wawv as nij/i'kua?!' guw&'kin mitc''muhsAk. ini'win-pih d'nih-n6'we~neh, sanawli'? niw, a's a~tik inih nipg'w. ini'2-pih kayd~t-s-mdt8yA'tua2, md'wa niwv as pi'hiketua9, we'pats kAta'W-pyAtd'tua2. ini'winsa'?yehas tiipa'pahtid'hkua? ahbkg'w; ini'?as tap-p yAta'tua?. Ikayis-aku'a~tatua2 mnissa-'kani'8 'nmi',nilkanih, iniwi 'n-pih me?8i'h d'hsami'htua2, uhpdtsV'8 WAn, 1k6hk6'hsAn, ma-'wa niw kd'k,5h as mi'nikutua2. kay98-rni'tsihsitua2, mda'hnuh-pe?n4'tesiwvAlin. a-'neh lkAn umu' anuwawan pahki'sikanan; kAn ulcd'hkinawa'nuMWawcn, misi'Ik 1k~hkti'hsAn. wayd'pah ini'2-pih 8flni'Anan tsi-mi'niku~tua2 na's niw i'nikult, mei'wa niw nd'nikut as a-'witva? akuh mama'tsi~tawnlk, ma'me?8ih as mi'nilkutua2 sii'nien, Misi'k up'2sehlkalanuwd'wan, uv'a'puwiyd-'nan akc6'MiAn, Wm-'wa ni kd'1c6h as mi'nikutua?. ini'2-nikuh s k&s-no-'htawak n6'hkuimeh, as neh&nis'iyen. misa'hkamik kg'8-inauw n5'hlcumeh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 103 Then they started forth on their voyage. They did not see any land by whichto direct theircourse;theyobserved the sun and moon; they went due east. When they were about to start, they made a great burnt-offering,1 making prayer to the spirits of the water that they might safely reach their goal and return. They were heard. Not once did the wind blow while they voyaged. For ten days they voyaged, all day and all night; the grown people who did the paddling slept by turns. Then, from some quarter a wind did spring up; the water to some slight degree came into motion; the women grew frightened and wept. Then one man was given tobacco, a man who had performed a great fast and had seen a vision of the waters. He accepted the tobacco and made a speech, dropping the tobacco into the water. Then, when he had finished his speech, then they all sang; thereupon the wind stopped. So then they again started to paddle. As they paddled on and on, when they had eaten all of what little provision they had on the way, then they would eat only a little salt. Thereupon they would drink water; in this way their hunger was stilled. As they voyaged along, a wind came up. Of course, they were as good as dead, if the wind grew strong. So then they made four tiny vessels of birch-bark; and into each little vessel of birch-bark they set an insect, namely a louse; and then they placed those little vessels into the water. Then those little vessels tipped over; then were the children made to weep, so that they wept loudly; and then all the grown people spoke. "Now they are all dead!" cried the women. At that the wind ceased and the water lay quiet. Then they went on with all speed, all of them paddling, that they might quickly arrive. At last they came in sight of land; they had reached their destination. When they had disembarked there in the Englishman's town, they were given plenty to eat, the Englishman giving them raised bread, pork, and all sorts of things. When they had eaten, they were at ease. Some of them did not eat any bread; they did not know what it was, or pork either. On the next day the English gave them silver coins, such and such a number, giving a large sum of money to each and every one of these Indians, and giving them also garments, blankets, broadcloth, and all things. So much did I hear my grandmother tell when I was little. That is all. 'Unbounded-Space' was my grandmother's name. 1 The word, normally at least, implies tobacco as that which is burnt. 104 104Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] ~59. THE ORIGIN OF THE DREAM-DANCE. (MAskcwawd'nahkwvAt~k) tsik nipg'hsehsih wg'1kiwAkin akuh mama,'tsi~taWAkc. as mdk-wdwg'kitua2, iniwi'n-pih, simdlkang'hs~n payi'2takutua9 as pi's-mika'ni'Ikutua?. ini2-pih inuh miti'muh nilcut units yA'nehs~n tsi-nayomii'tsin, as8mat~ipi'pahtuk, nipg'hsihsih as aw~h-akcihtsih. asg'kanan mesi'h as ts89'patekcin, ini'win s awgh-ki'Asit nipi'hih. ni'wukun dki'htsih, ini'win sa~ydi'h as pu'AWi~tat. ta'2, me~si'h 1k~s-ne~na'wakcin alci'kuh mAmd'tsi~taWAk. ii'neh tdh kj8-sd'pi~ta'WAkin IcuhM ma-m'tsi~taWAkc; alci'? tek pdmd~'tes3itua2. iniwi'n tdh niw as wi'kitua2 akuh simdk1An6' hs3Al tsi'Ikisi'temih. inu'h tdh mitd'muh nipd'tepeh iniwi'n-pih ki-n6'hnatsin units yA'nehsAn, lkAn as a-m6'ni1k; isp'i't teh wi'nah y6'win nisik ut5'nih as 1ki-sdk'1ipit inuk rnit'i'muh. sa~d'h ni'wukun dlki'htsih. i-niwvi'n-pih awa'tulkAn payi'talcut. 'nahdi'w, kAta's alku'A~tah; aw~h-mi'tsihsinun UMA's as wi'kiftua2 acuM 8imalkAng'h8Ak! klAn lkina-ni'Alkunuwd'wnitnmi's lkina'h ap as a-mi'tsihsi yen!' ikvu'ahin Wi'yAn as Ikg'kitut&'kut. hd'w, ini'2-pih tsiw-aku,'A~t At. 'miitsi'ah; aw~h-pihtike'nun! mdik-mE'tsihs~wAk; imi's3 ni lki'nah ap awe'h-un&'pinun Atft'hpuAnih!' iku'ahin anuh awd'tuk1An; IkAn tdh wi'nah u~ndiwd'nan ani'nuh kaydk~lcitutd'kut. sa~yud'h payi'Atat inih w~'kiwAm: 'hd'w, pihtilke'nun!' iku,'ahin; 'kAn kinaw-nyA'kunuwa'wAn,' ilku'ahin. ini'2-pih payi'htilket as awgh-mi'tsihsit ini's A tu'hpuAnih.- wd'wahte2 in&'htsilke'WAlkin akuh simdikAng'h8Ak; kAn und-wanu 'WaWAn' ani'nuh miti'muhSAn. kay&s-anih-mi'tsihsit inuh mit4'muh, s8ilitf3'hnewin. kis9'2nitsikanmnahkdi'h iniwi'n as a'2tik alcu'Atsih. 'aki'hpinah inih; awii't~h Wk~kwa2!' iku'ahin ami'nuh lea ydi~kitutd'/kut; 'lcitanini'Amalk kina-wj'htam~uwi'WAlk awMh-ne~na'tua2 inuk aw-a'wdik umnAs tdiwd'hikanih, s aw-us,3'hdik tdwd'hikan. lkAt wawg'pi~ta',wAlk. nalhd'w, lcils-ki'siha'tua2 tdtwd'h~kanan, ini2-pih a-ni'mihe'tiua2. lkinu,'a2 teh wi'nah mitdi'muhSAlc min? nisi'lk niw as aw-apg'ydlk s a-nahku,'Ahamdwd'kva& kit4'ninyA'muwaWAlk, misi'k s a-lki-tsipai'hlciyelk ld'taw-wdp-nimihe'tihkin, misi'lc na"'hkahkin pay6'ni~ti'h~kin s a-kiw-ah&shumd'kua2 kitdniniAM6'wawak. p~n wi'yAk kAt sa-ke-si'pahtaw. nii'htawatva2 ani'nuh tdiwd'hgka'nan, ini'?-pih aw-isyA'tua2 e-'halcum 8imdklang'h8Ak as aw-awjh-ne?nina-'1kua2. ayilcu'Amesilcun;?v'zcahte2 kd"2ts-mamiahtumdi'hkun awd''tuk 1c6'hninaw; p6'n pinud-' nimd'hlcun aki'lkuh sim&Jkang'hsAkc. p~n wi'yAle kAt sa-'lesi'pahtaw; p~n leAt nana'hkunew; flits yA'leah leAt kd'"2ts-nik&'m~wAke misi'k leAt kd'2ts-n9'm~wAle. leAn unaw-wi'hleihtunu'wawAn siMdklAn6'hsAle as aw-awg'h-ne~nina-'leua. md'wa niw a-wd'pale6'tsinule s a-pcipehtsi'h 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 105 59. THE ORIGIN OF THE DREAM-DANCE. (Maskwawanahkwatok) At the edge of a lake dwelt these people. When they were dwelling there, some soldiers came to them to fight them. Then a certain woman took her child on her back and ran down to the lake to go lie in the water. Where many reeds stood, there she went and hid in the water. When she had lain four days in the water, she began to starve. In great number had those Indians been killed. Some of them hadbroken through and got away; they alone remained alive. There by the shore, then, those soldiers were encamped. At night that woman would nurse her child, to keep it from crying; by day she would lie with only her mouth above water, like thisl. When she had lain four days in the water, a Spirit came to her. "Now then, go out of the water; go and eat where those soldiers are camping! They will not see you, when you eat there with them," she was told by someone who addressed her. Then accordingly, she went out from the water. "Go; go and enter the place! They are eating their meal; go there, you too, and seat yourself at the table!" she was told by that Spirit; but she did not see that Being which was speaking to her. When she had reached that house: "Now, enter!" it said to her; "They will not see you," it told her. Then she entered and went and ate at the table. With no attention to her the soldiers went on eating; they did not see the woman. When she had done eating, she went out of the place. A wash-tub was lying outside. "Take it up; take it along to where your people dwell," she was told by him who spoke to her; "You will tell your men-folk to go slay the creature2 that you are to use on this drum, so that you may make a drum. Let them hurry about it. Then, when they have completed the drum, they will dance together. But you women will merely sit by and join your men-folk in singing the songs; and you will always cook, whenever there is going to be a dance, and in the evening, when it is over you will give food to your men. Let no one run out from the ceremony. When these soldiers hear the drum, they will go there to slay you. Take heed what you do; pay no attention to them but pray earnestly to the Spirit our Father; do not notice the soldiers. Let no one run out; let no one fight back; let them, unheeding, sing loudly and let them dance hard. The soldiers will not 1 Gesture: head thrown back, thumbs and index-fingers forming circle round mouth. 2 A deer, with whose hide the drum is covered. 106 106 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Ikua2 alci'kuh simiikAng'hsAk; lkAn unauw-wi'hk-ihtunuf,'wiawiant as awaw~h-mikii'nina'kvua2.' ini2 weih-ta't tdwd'hikAn, as Ik~s-mZ'nikut mdi'ts-awd'tukAn ayum, mama'ti~taw wdsd'wahaldit. ini'2 wdh ma'waw as wdo5'hlah -d ni'mihetUAn as a-mdhnu,-witii'hkatit, kAt nik6'tuh s a-nildi'tit, kAn nilc6tuh s a-ne'nitit, mnis as a-ta89'h-uwi'tisi'Anihtit, mni's s ni'"mihetih s a-sawd.'nihtit, ayi'suh kd'k6h as a-mi'nitit. ini'? wdh-ni'mihefti wids,,R'wahak~dit. s5 a-md'hnu-lt~tii'tt mam&'tsi~taw. s a-sawd/'nihtit. s a-tap&'/nitit. 60. A SORCERERI AND HIS ACCOMPLICES ARE PUT TO DEATH. (mAsk-wawd'nahkwAt61k) k'usZ'wAkin mamd'tsi?tawAk; iniwi'n kute'2nas s uhlckei'tua2. ni'kut in4'niw un~hkwAnd'h,8An pitsikiha'win. wdht.8ita'w ini'win as neke-'h-ne?,na'tsin apd'hsusun, awa'ltSAn; k~ikV,'e-h d'hkwah ki-pakit~m~d'win 5s'hSAn utdsku'ahtemih. saWyeh rne'?8ih ayd'wik m~timg'hseh, inmiwin-pih wayg'2sgakesit inuh apaihni'hseh. lui'n~w as kd?ts-nanui'tawihM'tsin inuh wdnd'hkwAnd'hsit, nits yA'lkah niw k4its-w9*2sake'8iwin. niki~td's ayii'wik, n~ipu'akin inuh apdhn~'hseh. k-ay68-ani'kuha'tua2, 'nahd'w, kMA kik6'8V? md'wa niw!' gwdi'hin inuh inii'niw; 'ahpg'?ts kuw89'kun; ni'nah winak nina-naW&'ts-uni'ka~haw. kNs-kW'ihta'wan, nina'w-iniM-mai'tsiAM,' ini'win Wg'wAfl. iniwi"'n-pih md'waw k6situa2, niku'h niw imi'8 wayi'kttua2. iniwi'n-pih wi'nah wayd'pi~tAt as 6ni'kahtulc mi's as ape'nit. 8a~yeh nd'hkah, iniwi'n-pih kayg'8ihtvk. kaygs-kg'8ihtuk, 'lCAf wi'nah na'sAp utii'sikinan nindi'1kwAneh as,wang'hsih. manui'tsi~taw nilcd'timii'htuAk nin4'hk-wAnd'hsAn,' e-lw' lhin?iwe'niw. ini'win-pih payi'htiketei'tikit inih kay&-us~'htuk tsipayi'kamik. iniwi'n~ as sdsehkcg'hsih, td'?takats-nikdnd'ts8in und'hkwAn4'h8An. miwvi'n-pih paya't8-unai'8kinatfik up I'sket~i~kAu, misi'k utd'?'sgkAn as weidn6'ska?tuk. as mik-sai8ehkg'hksih inuh in'naimw, kAni'win mi'Arnw ahko52si'k niw kd'2tsil& pis-tani'tamin inuh MYA'niw. nik~kti's kch pi'win mesg'?new; mdi'ts-me?tik ts~patsini'n imis as apg'nit anuh una'Awn' n ~ni'win migi'k pa'ni?tAt inuh mdsg'2nw n'i 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 107 be able to go and slay you. All those soldiers will reel and fall; they will not be able to fight with you there." The reason the dream-drum exists is that this brown-skinned Indian was given it by the Great Spirit. The reason they all frequent this dream-dance ceremony is that they may deal kindly with each other, that they may never fight each other, that they may never kill each other, that they may there treat each other as brothers and sisters, that there at the ceremony of the dream-dance they may feel pity and sympathy for each other, exchanging things by way of reciprocal gifts. That is why the brown-skinned man dances the dream-dance, - that the Indians may deal kindly with one another, and feel pity for one another, and love one another. 60. A SORCERER AND HIS ACCOMPLICES ARE PUT TO DEATH. (Maskwawanahkwatok) Some people, they say, were moving camp; then in a place they all camped in a group. A certain man had a nephew1 whom he was bring up. He was very skilled at killing deer and bears; day after day he would unload them from his back at his uncle's doorway. When there was a great deal of that meat, that lad fell ill. Although his uncle spared no pains in doctoring him, he nevertheless grew very sick. At last the lad died. When they had buried him, "Now then, let us all move camp!" said that man; "Do you move on ahead; I shall first arrange his grave. When I have finished it, I shall start on," he told his wife. Thereupon they all moved camp, as many as were staying there. Then he set to work to arrange the grave where his nephew lay. By evening he had finished it. When he had finished it, "Not without some cause did my nephew fare in this way, that he was lost. Some living man has undone my nephew for me," said the man. With this he crawled inside the grave-house which he had just built. There he lay stretched out, unwilling to leave his nephew. Then he carefully loaded his gun and made ready his knife. While that man was lying there, suddenly an owl came and hooted more than once; barely within hearing was its call as it approached; "Coo-hoo-hoo!" it kept crying as itcame. At lastthat owlwascalling close by. Then there came a turkey; a tall tree stood there where the man's nephew lay. Suddenly, again, the turkey came down; 1 Sister's son, the sacred relationship. 108 108Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pis-ona'pit tsipayi'kAmi'lcuh. nik~tii's ni misi'k- awdi'hseh di'wiwin; ini'win-p~ih sa~yd'h lcayi'A~t6'hnatah inih tsipayi'karnik. payi'.Atat ini'8 eskiV'Ahtemih, '5ng'nun! ta2 d's3ihsi'nan? /kAta's misi'Ic pakc~t6min apa'hsus kisg'h utdsku,'ahtemih!' iniwi',A-pih misi'k waydi'puhnet as kiAt6hnatah. ni'sinuh lcayiA2 -W6hnatah inih tsipayi'lkamilc, is~cii'Ahtemih mni's payyA'tat, iniwi'n misi'k as nakdi'2tat; iniwi'n as tahlc4'skats8ikdt inuh awli'hseh. 'kAt4'8 5nZ'nun! ta? di'sihsinan? kAii,'8 misi'k aweh-palcet'min kis9'h utd~sku~'Ahtemih apd'hsvus!' iniwi'n-pih teh sa~yeh tsayg?tsipi',skAk ini'h ahkc~w. ne~ni'nuh ayci'wik, iniwi'n-pih ape'2sikcme'2sih tsay9?tsipd'skcAk ini'h ahkc.w. 'kAtd's 5n~"nun! ta2 d'sihsi'nan?' inuh ine''niw ini's kay~'s-pi'htiket iniwi'n-pih say&'kits9i'pahtulc. a n~i wdihd~'h,' gw&'hin inuh indi'niw, 'nit~n9'pahtum!' iniwi'n niw as p&'pehts8ih inuh AWdi'hseh. ke~t8-indi'niw 8i'wa8 n6'puwj'w,,,n; inii'win teh niw ini's kay~s-y~h-kvs9't ay&'wit Ike~ts-ind'niw. iniwi'n-~pih inuh irdi'niw tayd'pip~mni'tsin anuh ke~t8-init'niwAn. '1w~'hbin, ta2 di'htahsi'ydik nindi'hkwAneh as lcitdi'mahalk; ini2 nisi'k as a-pemndtesi yen,' indi'win anuh ke~t8-inei'niWAn. ta2, iniwi'n-pih ayd'tsimit inuh ke~ts3-indi'niw, nui'wa niw as inimwg'hnat9in. ma'waw 1kay&s-w~'hnatsin, iniwi'n-pih kaygs~kiki'yAwesu'latsin. iniwi'n-pih mis8i'k waY9'nanihdi'ts9in anuh ke~ts-in4'niwAn, usdi'2nawah as ma'malk, misi'k uhpd'hkwAnAn nayi's niw. iniwi'npih ma:V'wahkapitukc as nay6'htah kikg'h was, ah tsi-1kg'wdt. wa~si1c6'htewn,. payiIAtd~t ini's as3 wj'kinit weV'WAn?. hd'neh alki'lkuh wayi'/citua? jpi8-k~mii'p~wAkin. 'tsi-k1F,8-pis-ne'?takdit, pi8-kdi~ts-wg'wasiw. inisa'2 wd'h kAn nand's as pt'At! gw&'kin aki'kuh kayimii'pitua2. ta2,, 6a2ya'h wi'nah kis-pi'htikew w~'1kih. ahldih mitsim6'hseh andi'mukun; misilk 9'h-yo-m nilcu't ahlkdh Icinap.5na-'wivw ay6 kdi'2ts-ind'niw!' -kaygs-kisisi'Ahkitua?, 'nahd'w, ninaw,-uhpZ'ndw nit6wahlkeh. papd'm-nit~6'mehku~n aki'lkuh kay~s-kitd'mahatua2 nind'hkwAn4'IhsAn; misi/k d'neh aki'kuh awMh-nit5'mehkun. kj'm~ts kina-w~htam6wd'wAk' as kW8-ne~nakc inuh ke~ts-in4'niwv. "'ut~nd'1kanilkun; mitsimg'hseh wi'nah lcinu'a2 kilka'tew-ahs&'mikemVAW; alkuh teh a'neh ani'2 ke~tsina'niwAn ldi'tew-a~hsa'mihtua2." ' ta2, wi'nah inuh ina"niw iniwi'n-pih wayd'pahamd'its as nilcii'mit as t~wahkdi'hlkit. iniwi'n-pih niw saydkisi'tua2 alci'kuh kay&s-ndi'tanu~wilkitua2 as 1cs-ne~na'tua2 anuh apeihn~'hsAn. m58alka'piha'wAkin alci'kuh a'neh; misi'lo aki'Ikuh Ikaygs-1itdi'mahatua? anuh apihni'hsAn, winu'a2 ap mosalkapiha'wAkin. 1If my notation is correct, this is haplologic for kNaww-u#'htam6wiwwa'wAk. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 109 it came and perched right on the grave. And then, again, at one time, it was a bear; and that was when it walked in a circle round the grave. When it got to the entrance, "Arise! Why are you lying there? Come, it is time to be unloading another deer at your uncle's doorway!" With this the bear again started walking in a circle round it. When it had made the second circle round the grave and reached the entrance, it stopped again; there did that bear stamp its feet. "Come, it is time to get up! Why are you lying there? Come, it is time to be unloading another deer at your uncle's doorway!" And then that ground trembled. At the third time that ground trembled even more. "Come, it is time to get up! Why are you lying there?" That man who had gone inside now came running out. "And so indeed," cried that man, "I am getting up and shall run!" At once the bear fell over. There stood an old man; it was an old man who had moved camp from there with the rest. Then that man seized the old man. "Name them, as many as there are of you who have destroyed my nephew; only thus shall you live," he said to the old man. Then the old man told it all, naming them all in his story. When he had told all their names, he cut his throat. Thereupon he skinned and cut up the old man as one does with game, taking his chestbone and the ribs at both sides. Then he tied what he took into a bundle to carry on his back, together with the head, and went home. It was moonlight. When he reached the lodge where his wife was staying, some of those who dwelt there came and peeped. "He must be coming from killing some game, for he brings a big pack. So that is why he comes late," said they who were watching. Meanwhile he had entered the lodge. "There!" he said to the attendants; "Do the cooking!" he told them; "Boil one kettle of meat, and in another kettle you will set this old man to boil." When they had done cooking, "Now then, I shall tie on the cover of my water-drum. Go ye about and summon them who have destroyed my nephew, and some of the others do you go summon. Secretly you will tell them I have killed that old man. 'Bring your bowls; you will be given meat to eat, but those others will be given the old man to eat.' " Then that man began to sing songs and to beat the water-drum. At this they were frightened who had helped to kill the lad. Apart they were seated, those others; and those who had destroyed the lad were seated by themselves. ]I( I 10 Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kaygs-5nii'pitua2 aki'kuh, iniwi'n d'tuaa: ~'wtd'htsita si kim5'sakapi? ki'na2 di'htahsi'yah!' jwd'kin. akuh mitei'ruhsAk ape'?sik niw hd'2taha'rnukin inih isk6'tidw, mci'nawats niw as 'wa~sc'hkunik. aki'kuh di'neh apd'hsus-mi'tsim9'hseh ahsama'WAkin; aki'kuh teh d'neh ani'? ke~ts-ind'niwAn dksami'Atua2,. ta'?, wayd'pahtsildi'tua2, uld'htsitaw ini'wuin as kd2ts-mi'tsihsitua?. sa~ye'h ayd'pehtawi?tAtua2, imiwi'n-pih me~sih pay6'tawetua2 s uidjsj'hkunik. inuh wd~w5'hnit nd' niw?, inn 'win wve's kay0'8-a~tuah. ma yd'minund'pahtah, 6'hnAn tat& k&'pumi kin mnis ut~ndi'Ianih. mnJ'waw kay68-nei'mikua2. p9'2tew ut6n~wa? u md'u'in ayi 'nisp~'hneh. 'nah&'w, kAtd',s pap~ka'mehkun kd'timdhtuwi 'tua9 nind'hku'vAad'hsAn!' dnawghis6'wAkin as kAtaW-us8i'mitua?; siw nUtdtsik6'WAkin; kawi'n itai niw ukd'hkina~nu'wawan isku'Ahtem. ini'? kdhima'waw as papAka'mihtu~a2 s ne~ni'htua?. ini'win-pih aku'AtSih d'wih-me?8i'h-p6'tawvetua?; ini'win aydyahpakini'htua2 aki'kuh Icay~s-ne~ni'htu-a2. 'aw~h-kutsgmund'hkun inuh w9' yAwejkeh ta'2-nakali tsi'wv-a~teh inih minui'th!' kaygs-mi'nikutua?, iniwi'n-pih payapakamd'tua2 aninuhW~'YAw~kehkun, iskii'tiah as pis-ahp&'kinatua2. iniwin-pi"h Misik d'wihs3alcd'hnca?8a'hkua2 inih wZ'kiwAm?. ini? md'uwaw. ahka'nuh d'wiw. 61. A SORCERER IS SHOT. (MAskwaw&'nahkWAt~k) ki~s9'hseh nikut ki's-nipuah. kay6'8-nipdk ini2-pih niw aw~hani'kwahu h; -sa*?d'h ndi'hkah, wdini'tipd'hkaJ&, ini'2pih ni'w ind'fliwAk d'wih-kandpahtii'hkua2 inih tsipayi'kamik. as mdlk-&yapi'tua?, k"Ani'win awd'hseh payi'tuhnet as pis-kia?td'Ihnatah. ne~ni'nuh k~aYia~t6'hnatah inih tsipayi'kamik, ini'w-in-pih 8cs~yeh mdmd'8eIhkak ini'h as kls-ani'kwah6h. sakca'nah ni'winuh kayia~t3'hnet, ini'?pih paya'sketsiSU'Atua?. ke~ts-ind'niw siwas apef'win; ni'pi?tawin askg'wdit; mg1kung'hsAn a'wjh-kip9'hsime'win ini's kaye,8-indi'hk~sit uk6'htakanih. iniwi'n-pih 4'wvih-pi'htiket ini's8a mit4'wih. wdihtita'w ini'win as unu'ahtuk, tipd'h d'hkuah as k'2ts-mitd'wit. sa?yd'h6 pis-wvd'2sinaku~ah, iniwi'n-pih pay5'ni~tah ini's s mitd.'wih; kayZ'wri~t inuh ke~t8-ind'niw, iniwi'n-pih nd'pik. ini'2. 1928 Bloonmfield, Menomini Texts 111 When they had taken their places, they said, "Truly it appears we are being seated apart, as many as there are of us!" The women made the fire burn quite low, so that there was little light from the flames. The ones were given venison to eat, but to those others the old man was given as food. So they began their meal and ate most heartily. When they were halfway through, they built the fire big, so that the blaze was bright. The man whose father it was, he had been served with the head. Now, when he saw it plainly, his father was staring at him there from his dish. When they all had caught sight of it, thick foam came out of their mouths. "Now then, the time has come; strike them down who destroyed my nephew for me!" They were unable to flee; they could only crawl about; they could not even make out the door. So then they were all struck down and killed. "Go ye and ask the old woman where the bag' may be!" When she had given it them, they struck down and killed the old woman and threw her into the fire. Then they went and also set fire to the house. That is all. It is an ancient tale. 61. A SORCERER IS SHOT. (Maskwawanahkwatok.) A certain girl had died. When she had died, she was taken away and buried; then in the evening, at dark, four men went to guard the grave. While they were staying there, suddenly a bear came walking that way and began to walk in a circle round it. When it had circled three times round the grave, they shot it. There sat an old man; he stood up and made for home; there he laid a little feather over the place on his throat where he had been shot. Then he went and entered the lodge where the medicine-dance was being held. There truly he went hard at it all night, joining with great zeal in the medicine ceremony. At daybreak the medicine-ceremony ended; when the old man went home, he died. That is all. 1The medicine-bundle from which the sorcerers had derived their power. 11~ Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 62. AN ORPHAN IS PROTECTED BY SPIRITS. (MAskwawdi'nahkWAt6lk,) nahM'w, iniwi'n as wi'kitua? mam4'tsi~ta'wVAk; ini'h ni/cut wg'kciW~m ni/cut a'WiWAflin uki'2s95wawan. nawena'2s tsiw-ni'Anan-pip6'nalkesiwin nuh apdihni'hseh. nikftti'wdn tip~'naw $ inawvi'htitua?, ini'? as m~slcine'tua? inih wg'1k~waw. ini? md'waw as kgs-nipdi'kua? alki'kuh ni/cut W~'kiWAM. mnu'? nisi'k kay6,s-pim&'tesit apehni'hseh; k"An Wi'yAn utd'nawimdi'kanan. mini-pih ni/cut wj'kciWAM t~iW-i'SiAt inuh apdihni'hseh; ini'? as awghwi9n65'hkas9it; /cAn wi'yAn utd'nawimdi'kanan ini's. ini? askg3 ku~t&'lihih; /cAn 1cs-ah~dmd'nan; kAn 1cs-akcihi'n~an; kcjs-pii'hpenu,taw~e'WA1 nitsi'Anuk. nik~td's ayd'wikc, ini'2-pih wrnamdh-,us/i'h-ind'niWAkc tsiw-umi'?sutii'hkuna?, ni'w a/cuh ind'niWA/c: 'pinah 9'h-ayum tsi'?sahlcyAn /cAt kitii'sihtuwii'naw, MAWs'? nap s A-mami'ahtumalkih; tsi'?sahc6,w &'wi win MAtse'? nap. nahdi'w, ni'nah ma'waw ni/c6'h dt'htAnAmAn, as kiw-sasd/cii'yan ni'/cuh /ciw-awd'yen, MAtse'? nap nimind'win,' - ndi'sAp teh wi'nah niw, eihpg'ts3-pdhpenuitawiA'tufa? anu,,h citdima'ke5iWAfl. m~n5'na?? kina? /cik&'ta-y i'h-MAMdf?.'.ni'nah nap ina'wa niw nim~'ndw ~'h-anum ni/cuh kiw-awti'yan as /g-,sasdk&'yen,' gwd'hin as awj'h-pa/c'tiuah tsi'?sahkyAnih. s8a?yd'h misi'k inu'h ni/cutvma'wa niw n&'tuahin ni/cu/ ini'h kiw5kas /c6-8As~d'/ct, wi'nah ap s awve'h-a?tuk, a?tuwei'tsin anuh apdhni'hSAn. iniwi'n niw wi'nah ap, misi'/c inu'h ni/cut d'si?tAt, rnd'waw s awgh-na'ti/c ni/cu/ /ciw-6'/c s /cg-sa,s8d'/cct, as m~ni'tsin M~t8,6'? nap,'nimeiri'ahtumaw, as inu'Asitua?, anuh apdihni'hSAn dihpi'ts-pdhpinu'tawAtua?. ta?, umdi'win di'nispg'hneh an6'h/catsi/kan, aspdh penutawa'tua? anuh apdihni'hsAn. 'nahd'w, kAtd's pi'hti/cenun umAS tsi'?sahkyAnih; ayum-e'? ne?ni'mdw,' ina'wA/cin. hdi'n~w td'?tojka'tsi win inn/i apahni'/iseh; nit-si'Aka/i pi'htikenis9ihdi'WA/Cm. ta'?, iniwi'n-pi/i payi'hti/cet as /c&?ni'/cutua? anuh apdihni'hsAn. 'ahk/u'ahtawenun /ceh na'p; imi's /cehte'nikami/cu/ awMh-apZ',nun s a-nikc''mi yen,' ind'WA/cin s9 pahpenutawa'tua?. ia'2. iniwi'n-pih dhku'ahtawet nuh/ apdhni'hseh. kay6,s-ah/ku'ahtawet, iniwi'n-pi/i nd'/camit. UMA 's niw wayd'pahama'sit, iniwi'npik sayd'/cisitua? a/cuh 'ind'niWA/c a/cuh t89'?sahi/cWA/c inih /ci-nikdi'mitua?, iniwi'n nd'kamit inuh apahni'hseh. iniwi'n-pih niw way4'pi8-tani'tah/cna? UMA's ispd'miah. ydihpi'ts M68kine'wVA/in mi/i 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 113 62. AN ORPHAN IS PROTECTED BY SPIRITS. (Maskwawanahwatok.) In a certain place dwelt some people; the people in one of the houses had an only son. That boy was perhaps five years old. The whole house was occupied by a single entire family. Then it happened that they all died, the people of that house. Only the boy was left alive; he had no relatives. Then the boy went to a house; there he hung about; he had no relatives there. Then he was made to suffer; he was not given anything to eat; he was not given any clothes; the children made fun of him. Then, at one time, some grown-up young men made a plan, four of these men: "What do you say, let us build a medium's-tent for this youngster and make believe we are soliciting him; we shall pretend he is a spirit-medium. And everything I own, everything I use when I put on finery, I shall pretend to give him,"-to such an extent were they, for no reason at all, tormenting that unhappy little fellow. Then the other three said, "Well, of course, who would suppose we should really give them to him? Of course, we shall take them back." "And I too do now give him all these things which I use when I dress up," said one, as he went and laid down the things before the medium's-tent. Then another one fetched all the things he used when he put on finery, and went and set them down, placing them there for the boy. The next one did the same, fetching all the things he used to dress up in, and pretending to give them to him - all of them acting as if they were making entreaty to him, so far did they go in making fun of this boy. Then, as high as this lay the pile of clothing, as they made play of that little boy. "Now then, it is time for you to enter this medium's-tent; here is tobacco for you," they said to him. To be sure, the boy resisted, but they drove him in, none the less. So then he went in, because he was afraid of them. "Now do climb up, of course; go sit by the roof-opening and sing," they said, mocking him. Then the boy climbed up there. When he had climbed up, he began to sing. As soon as he had begun to sing, these men became frightened. The very song these spirit-mediums sing, did that boy sing. And at once the medium's-tent began to sway. When he had descended, whooping voices rang out in the air. Various kinds of spirits entirely filled that medium's-tent. 8 114 114 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI nakii'w, niku't teh iniwi'n s Idiki'kitit inuh awd'tukc: 'p6'n pd'hpis yii'h-mAmdi'Iun inih mayg' na/ inuh apeihni'hseh; usa'm apits Icikd'temahdi'wdiw. nina2 nitdpana'naw j'h-ayum, kcj'wisiw as a'wit. ya'? teh niw a-y~h-ts9'?napuminah Jdi'Ic5h as a-ya'h-mamu'awd/c; ta?, /cim~nii'wdw. kc~spin Wi'YA/c yidh-rnA'nmdi, nina-mndw6'naw,' 6wd'/cin a/ci'kvuh kcaygs-pi'htikcetua? inis tsi'9sah/cyAnih. ha'w, ini'? m&.'waw. a'tSiM'UAnA'wiw. ahka'nuhdi'tsiMuAn, &'WiW 63. A HUSBAND'S VENGEANCE. (neht~si'wihtu/c) ah/ca'nuh nikc6't&~ ni/cut ind'niw H8k~sanJ'wihew kci~sj'hSAn. WWIaI ini'win as nuli'h/capit inuh inei'niw. ahpdi'n niw pahp9'8iWin, apa'hsuV,8n ci.-ne'2natsin, as kci-pinii'tsin ini's s nuhdi'h/capit. ha'ta'?, lce~ts-inei'niw wets-we' yAWe/eh/cun misi'lc teh ani'nuh utd'nan misi'lk teh un~hii'hkciman, ini'win di'htahsi'tua2 as wvawi'lcitua2. JI'ta2, mi'p ahpd'n niw /ci-miitsi'win inuh inli'niwv, pahp9'sit, apd'hsusun pinitsin; rndi'hnuh-pemii'tesiWAkc, mdmi'tsgihstua2 ke~ts-ind'niwv WE'yAwjkceh misik uti'nan uniihii'h/ciMAn. 'inuh ke~t-s-ini'niw, wd'hlsitaw ini'win as tapdnd'tsin uniiMd'hlciman, md'hnu-mami'tsihsit; missi'l inuh we' yAwe'Ikeh wina'h ap wdi'htsitaui tapdi'ndw unitdti'h/ciman, md'hnu-mami'tsih~situa?. inu'h tdih mita'muh ini'win as mini'nima' tsin ni/cut apdhni'hs3An. umA'Is as /ci-manii'hnet, rnehs'WAn as /ciw-usg'htu/c inuh rnitd'muh, ini'win as kci-niiwd'tsin aninuh apdhni'h8An. ni/c6't8sas a-'wi/c, ini'win as wdipj'mikcut as mni'rnana'tsin inuh apdhni'hseh~ aninuh mita'muhSAn. &'ta?, /cay9s-anih-md'mana'tsin, ini'win-pih /cayg'wdit inuh mitd'mu~h as awda't6/cmehs9'w'anw9'/c6wa2. huow, inuh teh apdhn-i'hseh wina'h ap /c~wd'win. ad'ta2, payi'At inuh ind''niw wg'k/cwa2, /cAn u/ca'hkcina'nanwg' wan as ks-/cim6'tirih, /cayd'niSiWAn ind'niwan as i'yu/cut. ni/c6'ts soP yeh rnisi'/c aydi'wi/c, ini'win-pih /cay~s-una'2suta'h/cua? aw-isi'9tatua?. inuh mitd'muh ini'win d'ts: 'naha'w, wAnm'tipd'h/cah /cits-pi'Anm imis ng'/cina'ndwa2. ini's teh nina? a's /ci-nipa~yah, a/ct'Ats8ih ini's /cits-pi'Arn. inuh tdh wanii'/ch ninaw-tawa'hi-w. ini'? teh ni'n-ah as aw-md's/citsi'hsineyan; mi'? teh, a-y~h-i'wi yen. ihpih tdh niw /cinah a-t4pa'nimi'yen, /cinaw-1c9'wdm. /c~snipei't inuh nlita'nifliAm, k9 -rn6't ninaw-pat'hpa/ca'hi/cem. ini'O-pih tdh ini's- as tawg'/cih a-ntiltsi 'naman, ' ind'win arninuhaYpdhni'h8An w~'nimuhse'wan'hka'w,' ind'win, 'ninawv-isi'AM,' /ciwa'tua2. ta? inuh ind'niw tahnd'nuh /cj'si/cah /ci-ne,?ne'win apd'hsusun pi'ta?8it nd'h/cah; miime'tsih5wA/c /ce?ts-inei'niWA/c. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 115 And then one spirit spoke: "Mind you do not take back that which you have given that boy; too far do you go in making him unhappy. But we, we love this child, because he is an orphan. And from this very place we shall observe you, to see if you take anything back from him; for you have given the things to him. If anyone takes them back, we shall see him," said those who had entered that medium's-tent. Now, that is all. It is a tale people tell. It is an ancient story. 63. A HUSBAND'S VENGEANCE. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Once upon a time, long ago, a certain man was married to a young woman. He was staying with his wife's people. He always hunted, slaying deer and bringing them to the house of his wife's parents. The old man and his wife and his daughter and his sonin-law, that was the number of them as they dwelt there. In the morning that man would always go off to hunt and bring home deer; they lived in comfort, having plenty of food, the old man, the old woman, and his daughter and son-in-law. The old man dearly loved his son-in-law who supplied him so well with food; and the old woman, too, was much attached to him who provided so well for them all. But the man's wife then took a fancy to a young man. Where that woman gathered faggots for firewood, she would see the young man. Then, in the course of time, the woman persuaded the young man to lie with her. When he had done so, she went back with her faggots to the house. The young man also went home. When the husband came to the lodge, he did not know that he had been deceivedi by his wife, in that she had been used by another man. Then, after a time, those two had formed their plan. Said the woman, "Tonight you must come over yonder to our wigwam. You must come right outside of where we always sleep. I shall make a hole in the bark of the wall. There I shall lie with my buttocks thrust out, and from there you shall have access to me. When you are content, you will return home. As soon as my husband is asleep, I shall knock quietly against the wall. That is when you will feel for the place where the opening is made in the bark," she told that young lover of hers. "Very well," he told her, "I shall go there;" and they went home. Now that husband, every day he used to kill a deer and bring home his game in the evening; and the old folks would have their plenty of food. Literally, "stolen from," the usual expression in such cases. 8* 116 It"Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hd'ta?, w1'nitipd'hkah, tsi'wvin inuh apd'knihjseh.- ahka'nuh ldi'h, j'h-akcum mam&'tsi,?taWAlc, wandi'A-ih kg,3-i'wiw kayes8-apa'hlcitua2. ta'?, inuh tdih UlAnd~'kdih pipdi'kin. kaygs-tawd~su'atsin inuh mitd'muh sikas niw ini'kqtnh, iniwi'n-pih kdi'k~h inis t,'2tuk- umit'tih. ta"?, icawin teh na'kWAtun. Ci'ta?. ni-nipa 'tua? inuh mnitd'mifh imiwi'n-nakah sd.'hkihsih tsg'kapah. ha'w,, ayit' teh ind'niw Isi'1cisk'i7niahk y~wi'nnakah wd'htsihs3ih. d'ta?, h~t'nuwwivinah i~nuh inei'niwv way~'uwit wina'h apki -m&'mane'wvinw9' wa~n; ta'?, kAna'pats td,'h vs3'm mini'nimew ani' - nuk apdhni'hs3An; mini? tehVa'h, ICAf as tdpd,'nimiit ani'nuh uti'nini'ArnA"a. wdi'nitipd?'hkah as pi'At, inuh apdhn?'hseh, i)?i'wvtn ts.j'kapah s -sa'sehk9'hsih. hd'wv, ayum in4'niw ini'win as ni'p7it. kayg's-nipiit inuh, indi'niw, ini'win-pih ayum rnitui'm)uh min.nawats paydi'hpak-a'hiket. ini's s tawg'kih, ini'win d'8itsghkd'hsih. h&Wivinuh aj/ihni'hseh iniwin, kaygs-p/i 'hpak-ahilce'nit aninuh Mit#d'Muhs7An, ini'wmvn-pih, nd'na2 -tutsi'nah ini's as tauwg'kih. iniwin as mi'hkutsi,'nah inih t4'wikeh;y6'rn as is-pg'htinah irni's, inih utsg'h. ini'wvin a's rni'hkuts3i'nah. kaye-spdts-mi'hkutsim7 'tsin, iniwi' n-pih inuh indt'niw- ini's wvdh-pimu'atsin. ta"?, ta'?, min? kdih as pi'pimu'atsi'n; ta'?, nilk8'tuanuh kaye-spimu'atsin, nawgnd'hsihs3ih sa~ydh Misi'k as nehk6'simakak, inih uti'n, iniwi'n-pih rnisi'k, pdmu.'atsin. iniwi'n lceh d,'nanii'hkasit tipii'h di'hkwah. ta?. inuh inei 'niw, ani'nuh Undpi'AMAn, nik8'tu'nuh nisi'k ki-pi&m6'k,-in; as kd.'?ts-anuhki't, as pahp~',sit ki'seh d,'hlkwah, rnisi'lk as ne?,na'tsin apdi'hsusun,. as nayama'tsin, as~ pina'tsin, (a"?, kiwatsk6'win ta'h,. iniwi'n teh as kii"?ts-nipja't. kA1i'win, niwv sa'?yd'h as wj,'pah, ini'win-pih lki-k-usk6'sit inuh ind,'niw h(7'ta),. ayam tdh apiihni'hs3eh wd'htsitA' niw ki-tdip4'nim~uin, tipdh d'hkwvah as k-iwvmamasi'wet. as lkim6'tit ani'nuh mnitd'muhSAnA. ini'ivin khahpdi'n niw d,'nanii'thlkasit inuh mitdi'muht msi'k- inak apyihni'hseh. &'nuw nik~td,'s ini'wvin as k-,ehkc9nja'kut ani'nah, 6'hnan misik iaki'yAn inuh apdihni'hseki. ini'win s k,-9s-ay,'ne'?ni'ku.t:'pi-t',i'i?tah, ad/ki'h., y~m di'si'?ta yan! kA-A wv9'8kiwA'fbt; lkina-nipd'm.' ind'win c''n~vw ani'nuh 'Ulci"?sAn ta'?, kawvi'n up6'ni'?tanan. nilk6'td8 mi"i? as kehk-j'nah inuh ind'niw. 'naMu'w, pina'h ac'8'iki'malkah ts9"?napai'htah!' iku'ahin?Vi' yAn as ni'p~it. Iud'w, tsj"?napd'htsiket, w6'kiwAub si'was a'?te'wvin. inuh infi'niw wg'hpime'win wg'wyAn. hM'w, alkii'Atsih ini's 4-nei'pit, indi'niw siwas sehki'hsinin. nik6td's kAni'win pd'mim-a'?sitsi'hs8ih inis wg'k~wa'?. iniwi'n as ndwdi'tsin as kim5'timikut aninuh apdihni'hsAn. ini'wrnp6'h k6'skusit. hei'w kay&s-kuskc6'sit inuh indi'nitv. wd'htsita kd"?tin ini'win as rna'mahkAtdi'nihtah. ta"?, wj'wan ani'nuh nipd'wanin. ldi'hkinAkut anuh we W~n mis as kusk6'sit, iniwi'n-pih kay~s-kuhkj"?tAt inuh mikti'muh, teh s lki'skikina'ts8in aninuh uncspi'AMAn as nipd?'hkasit. h&,t'w., ini'niw inuh ei'na'wvg'htawin as k.,td.i'w-nipiit. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 117 So then, when night came, that young man went there. Now, in the olden time, it was of bark that these Indians made their lodge-walls. Now, that bark is thin. When the woman had cut from it an opening of a certain size, into that place she laid some bag or bundle of hers. It did not show at all. Then, when they went to bed, the woman lay at the side next to the wall. The man lay over at the side toward the fire. Now, to be sure, that man who was her husband, he too would lie with his wife; but perhaps too much did she love that young man, and therefore she was not satisfied by her husband. At night, when that young man came, then next to the wall lay she. Then her husband fell asleep. As soon as he had fallen asleep, the wife gently knocked at the wall. She lay with her buttocks in the opening of the wall. Then the young man, as soon as the woman had knocked at the wall, groped for the opening in the bark. He felt out the opening; reaching into it, he found her buttocks with his hand. When he had felt out just how she lay, then from there did that man have access to her. Then, indeed, more than once did he this; for, having once lain with her, he soon felt the return of his desire, and he again possessed her. Thus he did through the whole night. Now, that man who was her husband, only once at a time he used to cohabit with her; for, as he worked hard at hunting all day and at killing deer and bringing them home on his back, he would be tired. And so now he was sound asleep. Not until dawn would that man awaken. And that lad, truly he would obtain entire satisfaction, indulging the whole night long in adultery with that woman. In that way they continued, the woman and the youth. It availed nothing that in time the young man's father and mother found him out. They upbraided him: "Desist, son, from this which you are doing! It is not right; it will be the death of you," the old man said in vain to his son. He did not cease. Then at one time the husband learned of it. "Now do you but look at what is going on!" he was told by a voice, in his sleep. He looked; there stood a house. The man of the house was sleeping with his wife. Then, when he looked at the outside, there lay a man. Soon he lay up close to the house of those people. Then he saw how that young man stole what was rightfully his. Then he awoke. When he was awake, then truly, he marveled. "What can this be?" he thought. His wife was asleep. As soon as his wife knew that he was awake, she turned round and embraced her husband, pretending to have been asleep. He could not sleep. 118 11. Publications, American Ethnological Society -Vol. XII 'ha'w, mi'p ninaw-ts&2?napdi'htan y&' m a sis3-mn'man,'indi'nihtAmin? irnd'niw. sa~ydi'h waycd'pah mi'p, nipg'w an~nd'win aninuh wg'wan. tat'?, mitdimuh iniwi"'n-pih mayd'tSiAt, nipg'w as na'tilc,. kay&sini'win as a'?tek. mayi'Akunah inih min~i'tih, sikas niw ini'kuh tawg'Ikiwin inuh wandi'kdh. kay9s-nd'mik inuh indi'niw, ini'win as ycdhkip&'hkwahah. hi'ta?, wd'walhtd2 i'yapiwin. payi'At inuh mitei'muh, pi'lhtiket, ta?, inuh ind'niw pimcdhd'win aninuh w9'wan usk~'hsikuh. nnh mitd'muh pdi'pik Ik6s-ts9'?nap&'htamin ini's as tawg'kih inih wiv'k~wawv, as aw-kes-nd'mik ~nuh ind'niw. ta"?, ini'u~in niw ahpd'n niw d'sihneh inih umii'tih. kay68-anih-mi'tsihsit inuh ind'niw, iniwi'n-pih maydi'tsiAt as pahpg'sit. wd'?naw 1cay98-pyA'htdt ini'win as di'yapit, ndn&'kAtawd'nihtah ind'niwv. ninaw-WAni'tipa'hlcah ninaw-kandi'pumawv ay6'm nimd'tem8 'hsem, inii'nihtAmin ind'niw. &'ta2, wdnintipdi'hlkah, ini'win kdh as Ikana'pAma'tsin ani'nuh we'wan. nik6'tds8 sa'?yeh /'ay~s-inim-usfVhsihlkua? aninuh w9'wan iniw''i'n-pih kayd,'?ts3-nipdi'hkasit. hdi'w, niks5'tis kAni'Wvin lk&'h niw r may5's8iha'ts3in aninuh W9'WAn pa'hpakahilke'nit. ini'win-pih misi'Ik imi'nakah d'sis-kuhkg'?tat inuh mit4'muh; h&'w, ini's tdh as tawvj'kih, kasit, n&t's niwm6'sihe'win anmnuk wj wAn. h7'w, um~ie'win ayi'nehlcat. tv.'w inisa'? ~'h-ayum d'si?tat nimd~'tem5'hsem!' in4'nihtAmin in'd'niw, s kd'2ts-nipd't. kawvi'n Oih winah undtpd'nan; n~VsAp niW nipd'hk~a85'win in&'niu'. JI'ta2, nawg'naw iniwi'n kdh niw tipdih 4'hkwah si nawg'naw,, ihpih ki-m6'sihewin ani'nuh w6'wan, y6'm as i'nehlcanit. ha'ta?, nawvd'h ayd'wvik., ini'win as kuslc&'sit in'?(,h ind'niw as inu'asit. Iud'w, inuh mtd'm~uh pdi'pik ume'win-nakah kay9sap'ist su8'pm'u tdh aninuh w9'wAn. &'ta'?, ini'? sa?yeh as kg-s-kehk~nah innuh ind'n?"w. way&'pah, MaYd'tsiAt as pahpg'-sit, 'naha'w., ta'? tdh y5'mn Isiw-awisg'?tayan?' ind'nihtA'min ind''niw. 'nahei'w ninawl-kU'kisan inih m~'nak,' ind' nihtamin. 'a~tj'?8ilkan s6'h niw pd'ts niw, a?8eni'An as nvdw'tsin /kntd.'?nas8. ini'win as Ikg'putuk utd'?siken, pd"t8 pd'ts-k9'putuk. i'ta?, kay&skj'pu~tu~k, pg'hnaha'min utd'?sikan, tsi-Md'tsiAt, pahpj'sif. payi'At nd'hkah, Mi'tihsit, sa?yd'h ldi'aw-nipa'tqtaO? mahd'w, umd '?-nalkah ninahi kd'taw-sgehkg'hs3ine'yan.' ind'win ani 'nuk. w~'wan. 'hd', pina'h, nikd.'?ts-89'hkatan ninA's ts3lk 8kit'tiah.' giv'hin inuh mitd'mu~h. 'kA'n! nina/i ap nisg'hatan. y6'?-nakah ninah 1kd'tatv-sek~'hsine'Iyan.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 119 "In the morning I shall look at this thing which I have seen," he thought. When morning came, he sent his wife for water. "Go fetch water!" he told her. Then the woman went to fetch water. When she had gone, he looked at the place; a bag lay there. When he removed the bag, there was quite an opening in the bark of the wall. When he had seen it, he covered it again. He stayed still, as if nothing were amiss. When the woman came back into the wigwam, he watched his wife's eyes. At once she looked over toward where the wall of their house was broken, to see if her husband had noticed it. Her bag was still lying there. When the man had eaten his meal, he went out to hunt. When he had gone a long ways off, he sat and reflected. "I wonder what I can do," he thought. "Yes, at night I shall observe this wife of mine," thought the man. So that night he observed his wife. When he and his wife had gone to bed, soon he pretended to be sound asleep. Then, after a while, he noticed that his wifewas knocking at the wall. Then she turned over, to lie the other way; she lay with her buttocks toward that opening. Pretending to be sound asleep, he could hear and feel what his wife did. She was moving back and forth yon way. "So this is the way my wife does!" he thought, who was sound asleep. For he was not really asleep; he was merely pretending to sleep. Then every little while, throughout the night, he would feel his wife moving back and forth like this. After a long time he pretended to wake up. Immediately his wife threw herself over toward him, sleeping with him. So now he knew it. In the morning, when he had gone off to hunt, "How shall I deal with this?" he thought. "Well then, I shall cut off that penis," he thought. In some place where he found a stone, there with all due care he sharpened his knife, putting a good edge on it. When he had whetted his knife, he put it into the sheath and went on to hunt. Coming home at eve, he supped, and then, when they were about to go to bed, "Now then, over on that side I wish to lie," he told his wife. "Oh, please, I do not like it there by the fire," said she. "No! I too do not like it. Over here I shall lie." 120 120Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nit~i'Akah inuh ind'niw ini'win s kaw~'2tat tse9'lapah. hei'ta'), inuh mitei'muh inuh ini'win s Iki'2ts-m~k. 'htdiAta2, ta2 a'yum d'sikit? p~n m6'nun; kinaw-md'hnu,-nipd'mv,. indi'win anih wg'wan, h&'ta2, ndi'nipa'tua2. WNzlo'a, sa~yd'h kayd'2ts-wAni'tipd'hkah,, ini'win as nipad't inuh mitd'muh. d'ta2, ayum ind'niw iniwi'n-pih mayi'Alcunah inih mminf'tih; iniwi'n md'nawats 5- pa'hpaka'hiket. hMA, pd'pik wi'yAn m6'sihewin inis aku'Atsih. ta'?, inih uta'2sikan ini',?vin 1k~s-wdn5'8katukc, as tawZ'kih ini'win ats lcipi'nehtsi'hsih. h&'w ', nikc5tds kAni'win kdi'h niw mZ'nAk pit8-sqd'1kihneh; fti'pinah, mJ'2, mi'ts-rn~'nak ii'wiwin. ini'win-pih ape'2sik -sayftwi'lcinah. d'ta2, inuh ind'niw, Ume'winnakah pits-is-a'2sits'2tat ini's as tawZ'kih. ut&'2sikan kayj's3-MAmInd inuh indi'niw, payd'ts-sli'kihneh, ini'wvin as lkj"skis8ah. hdA ina'niw pmnim-nj'puwi'pahtawin, wd'htsita Idi'2tin, 'ti'h pi'hticet, as ni'p~tt undi'pikanih naivj'naw ini'win s nipi'k, inuh ind'niw. &'ta2, min? kd.'h. nahd'w, ayii'm tdh ind'niw kayjs-1c~s/isah inith mg'nak, ani'n'ah we wan ani'nuh tdh wZ'ne~nan ini'wvin as kehpd't,5k inih mZ'nAk. d'ta2, kdi~ts-nipd'win inuh mitd'muh; k1An um6'sihanan aninuh. und.pi'AMAn inih as isg'?tanbit. ta'?, kaygs-lkehpi'tuwatsin inih mg'nAk ani'nuh wZ'wAn, iniwi'n-pih inim-nipd't inu~h ind'niw. mi'p k6'slcuai'tua2, &'ta2, mitd'muh pmi'm-5ng'win, pdi'pim6'hnet wg'kc5wa2. tsi'piihkit. ta"?, inuh ind'niw y6'win niw 1kiw-ind'puma'tsin ani'nuh wg'wan. UinA's tdh uhpd'hkwAnih y6'win as ak6'tdk inih mg'nAk 1kay&skH'skisah. d'ta2, pd'penu3'hnet, ta'?, inuh teh we' YAWekehkohselh wdtd'nit n&'tam~wd'win nis s tsipd'hlkinit. nik5ti's 'w6'yAw~kehk5'hs3eh h t89"?napumd'tsin hJ/i'hkWAnih,, nimd'9. mna't8-Tme'nAk ini'Win as kehpg'tdlk wg'ne'?nih inuh mitd'muh! yjAnitdi'h. wd'ki'? y6'm ndy&'htaman?' at ta'?, y6'm, y6',m as is39'2tat inuh mitd'muh, nimd"?, y6'm as ind' - pahtah, mdn'ts-m6'nAkcume'win-pih niw ayd'wik; ini'win as kehpeg'tdk w6'ne~nih! pahlkg'pu~tuk inih, ta'?, mj'nAlk kutfi"?nas imiwin d'hpakitah. hd' siwas pimd'Ihlihnenin. Ad', ke'?ts-ind'niw y5'win niw dnii'pahtah. hd'ta2, mg'nakc keh niw d'wiwin! mini? keh; min? md'waw. ta"?, inuh teA ind'niw lcawi'n kd'Ic~h k&~-ihpd'nana'nan wayg'wit aninuh mitd'mu~hsAn; nitsi'Akah niw lk&,-1and'wihe'win, aninuh nd 'niw~n as8 nipd'nilc. ta"?, wayd'pah inuh ind'niw tsayZ"?napumih as kHs-nipd'k: 'Ad'w, ta"? teA d'sikit?' d'ta'?, UnA' Is 8kjs-wd'p&t, mehlki'h, uhkd'tih, - mis~wd' niw meh1k6'wiwanin aninuh uhlcd'tan. tsay6"?napu'mih, aydt-g-sd'kihneA inih wg'nAk ini'win tsi-k&s-lk'skcisa'meh. Ad'w, mehki'A teh i'nih 1cay&s-y~h-pi'At s ni-ts8g"?napd'htaAhkua'?, iniwi'n3 sk&~-awgh-meAkdi'hlkua'? inih td'wilkeh, ini's tdh s k98-tas6'h-k9'skisa'in~h ini's inih 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 121 In spite of her protest the man lay down next the wall. Then did that woman bitterly weep. "Ho, what is the matter with this person? Do not weep; you will sleep well," he told his wife; and so they both went to bed. In time, late in the night, the woman fell asleep. Then the man pushed away that bag and gently knocked at the wall. At once he perceived someone outside there. Having laid ready his knife, he now lay with his hand over the hole in the wall. Soon indeed, in came someone's penis; he took hold of it, yes, a huge penis it was. He pulled it in farther. The man out there pushed closer up to the opening in the wall. He took his knife, and when the thing was well through the hole, he slashed it through. Up leaped that man and ran, and truly, "Splash, splash, splash, splash, splash!" off he went, running home. When he had reached his house and entered, there on his bed he soon died. So that was the end of him. But as for the man who had cut off that penis, he tied it into his wife's hair. She was fast asleep; she did not feel her husband doing this. Having tied the penis to his wife, the man went to sleep. When they awoke in the morning, the woman arose and went about the house to prepare the morning meal. The man merely looked at his wife. There on her back it hung, like this, that penis which he had cut off, as she walked about. Now, the old woman, her mother, was helping her to cook. Then once, as the old woman happened to glance at the other's back, why, a big penis was tied there into the woman's hair! "Goodness me, daughter, what is this thing you have on your back?" When the woman did like this, when, like this, she looked at the thing, right there was a big penis as long as that; there it was, tied into her hair! She pulled the thing free and flung it off yonder somewhere. There it lay. The oldman simply stared at it. It certainly was a penis! That is all. But that man, her husband, did no harm to his wife; he did not cease to keep her, now that the other man was dead. In the morning that man was looked upon, where he lay dead: "What has happened to him?" From when he had run, on his legs, the blood, - all covered with blood were his legs. When they looked at him, at the very base his penis must have been cut off. When they observed that blood in the direction from which he had come, they found the opening in the wall, and the house where he had been mutilated, and the woman 122 122Publicattions. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII wZ'/kiwAM, Misi'k tdih inuh mitd'muh s kj-s-nay&'htahk inih me'flAk; inj'2 md~'waw 8 /k-s-meh/cdi'hku 1cayi.-isej'kimakah. IcAn td-'ih kii'k~h kc~s-isg'kirnakatun, inuh ind'niw imihk s k-&-ihpdi'nana'ts8in aninuh inla'niWAfl. 64. A GRANDSON'S ANSWER. (nehtsi'wihtu/k) ni/cut yd'hpits lce?ts-ind'niw kais-d'wiwin; d'nawZ'his5w as kcAta'wpem6'hnet inuhk /e~ts-ind'niw; misi'k tith leAn uldi'h/cinanan sayct'h as lka/i'/citit tdi2 d'ts; keAn un4'nuhtasinan inu/h ce~ts-ind'niw, d~'hpitskce~ts-ind'niw-id'wit. 6'hsihs&'hsAn tdh /kes-jp'tsi/ciha'win; ni'8slwAkfin akci'/cu~h ina'niwA/c. anuh 62nd'hsimaWAn inu'hi td/i keets-in~d'niw, d'yawis as uhtd'tesinit, inn/i /cets-ind'niw wine'win lea ys-meind'ftinl iwi'/&wAn 6'hsihsd'hsAn; ayd'h teh ind'win dkc6sg'wdt; ini'win uwi'hswAn mu/i P3nd'hsimaw. /id'w, inu,'h tdh uhs9'mimaw MAs/awa'/i ind'win; ini'win misi'/c ni/cut ea y~s-m.~nC'tsin wi'hSWAn ani'nuh 6/~ihi/sd'/isAn inu/i kee~ts-ind'niw. /id'w, ihpi'h tdh sa~yd'h /caygs-yd'/ipits-mamd.'h-ind'niwaAke-ayd'witua2, iniwi'n-pih winu'a2 ap d'sit lea ys-pimdnd'tua2 ani'nu/i u~md'his~md'/is~wa'wan. hd'ta2, nikc~td's ayd'wile, inuh 62nd'hsimaw, - ta'?, ahk/a'nuh ini'win lea ys-isi'2tatua? alcum /cikd'ts/cyAMinawAkc: unitsi'Anehsowc'wan, /cs-misd'hk/Atewd/id'WA/c, - /id'w, inu'/i tdh 62nd'hisimaw kj-s-m~nd'win pj'hitsikcu'ndh s aw,-usg'/itu/; awd'tulcAn kc~s-mj'ni/c as ni'pdt; aw-isE'2tat kcs-wZ'htamakc. hd'w, ini'win td/i as le'~s-us89'htule inih up9'htsikle".'ndh; ta'9 ini'wvin /ceh s kcis-kci'si/iu/c inn/i ind'niw. ni/c~t1's ayd'wi/c, inuh kce~ts-ind'niw ini'win d'ts, - CtsU'aledm ini'win as /ci-sd'sehl9'/isih; d'nawihiis5'win sa~ydh s /cAtdW-Un9't tsgiw-ahpi'"ts-ke~ts-inti'niw-d'wit. h&'w, leays-ung't, - wi'kei lcdh wi'hkcihe's~win as misd'/isih inuh /ce~ts-in/i'niw, - /id'w, &su'aleim ni' - win-na/ca/ ds-ntdwd'pahtsi/cdt 6/isihsd'sAn as apg' nit. /cAni'win /cd'/h niw leayi'/citit inuhk /e~ts-ind'niw: 'nd'2s led/i niw /cu't /cd'/i inuh mmd'tsi'?taw dkusi'wdt ind'w. muhtsi nd'p ni'na/i /cAn inih nitd/cd'nan, /cutd'?nas lea y's-aw9'h-mikci'/ki/yA'nin, ng't8-mamii'tsi~taw payi'na/cin, as /ciw-a/c6'nAle,' ~wd'hin inuh /ce~ts-ind'fniw; ani'win td/h ni'W dnd'tsin 5'/isi/isd'/isAn. ta2, y6'win niw dnd'paMA'tsin ani'nu/i umd'his~md'hs8An inuhi mnd-niw as /c9'hklami'/cut. sa~yd'/i Misi'le an inu/i ni/cut tdts9'2napumd'win 5'/~isisd'/isAn u/is9'mimaWAn. /ca/i-ni'win lee/ ni' misile lea yi'itit: 'ni/cu't led/i mi'n niw mu/i mamd'tsi~taw MAsleawd'/i ind'win! mu/itsi nd'p ni'na/i leAn mas/cawd'/i nitdled'nan, leutd'2nas mayilcd'/ileiyAnin, ini'2 niw ndnd'2tia/i as leiw-ta85I~'hi-lale~'/ieita yen, d/ipi't8 - 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 123 who had borne the penis on her back; they found out all that had happened. And nothing at all was done about that man's having thus dealt with the other man. That is all. 64. A GRANDSON'S ANSWER. (Nehtsiwihtuk) There was a certain very, very old man; unable to walk was that old man; nor did he know any longer what he said when he spoke; he did not understand his own words, that old man, so old was he. He had brought up his grandsons; two was the number of them. At the time when the older of the two was born, it had been the old man who had given him his name; 'Hangs-People-Up' he was called; that was the older one's name. And the younger man was called 'Strongheart'; that name, too, had the old man given to this other grandson of his. Now, after they had become entirely grown-up men, then they in turn took care of their grandfather. Now, once it happened that the older one, - for of old this was the custom of our ancestors: they caused their children to fast, - well then, to that older one it was granted to make a medicine-bundle; the spirits gave him that in his dream; they told him that he was to do thus. So now he had made that medicine-bundle of his; he had completed it. Then, at one time, what that old man said was this, - at the opposite side of the lodge was where he always lay; he was not able to rise from his couch, so old a man was he. Well then, when he had got up, - he just managedto get up into a sitting posture, - then he peered over across the lodge where his grandsons sat. So now suddenly the old man spoke: "It is really very funny, the kind of names these people must have been giving each other in the past! Why, one man is called 'Hangs-People-Up'. Even I am not called that, who, whenever I had been off fighting anywhere and had brought in my fellow-man, used to hang him up," said the old man; to that grandson of his he spoke that way. That man simply stared at his grandfather, as the latter twitted him. Then he took to gazing at that other grandson of his. In due time he spoke again: "And another of these people, they say, is called 'Strongheart'! Why, even I am not called 'Strongheart', I, who, whenever I was fighting anywhere, would always be charging into the very midst 124 124 Pblications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII rnAska'w6'k nita'h' gw&'hin rnisi'k as kj,'hkama'tsin ani'nuh nikvt 6ksihs~d'hsAn. kii'ta2, y6'win niw dna'puma'tua2 aninuh aumd'hsd&md'hs6wa'wan? as 1ce'hari'kutua?. inu'h teh 62nd'hsimaw ini'win dtnd'tsin ani'nuh umd'Ihsoln'h8sn: ka'y A s-mama'tsi~taWAk! niku't kdh, inuhrnatgj'2-ke~t8-ind'niw pe h - tsikundh indi'w. muhtsi nii'p ni'nah kAn pg'htsikuniih nitdikd'nan-,,8a~ytd'h nip~'htiku'ndh as k~s-Ic~'ihta'wan!' indi'win ani'nuh 5md'bhstime'hs~n. 'kii'h tin"?! k98-pit8-isis3-wdwj'hs9iwe'-wAlc aki'kuh ka'yas-rnama'tsir'?ta'wAk!' gwd'hin irnuh ke~ts-irni'niw. ini'? Iceh lc-s-tepii'ham6wd'tin ani'nuh umdi'h86Md'hsAn. ini2 wdii'awv. 6S. LOVYE BE YOND THE GRA VE. A(mise'n makapi'w) n~ikut ind'n~iw w'lcimewin mitd'muhsAn; wehtsi'taw tapd'nite5 -WVAkn. 'ke'8pin ki'nah nd'2tAm nipa'yAn, kina-wi'tsiAn, kiw-ind'win ani'nuh wC'wAnh. wi'nah nap inuh mitd''muh ini'win wi'nah nap kiw-ind.'tsin ani'nuh U(napi'AMAn. nahii'w, nk6Ui's ay&'wik, ini'win s Wg'2sakesit inuh rnitd'muh; hla'?, iniwin 8 ni'pdlc inuh mitd'muh. naha'w, sa~ye'h kAta-wg'ka~nih, iniwi'n-pih md'rnik utdi'kum inuh indi'niw. ta'?, aki'kuh wd'ki?situa2 as tsi-mnil'ua?. ta"?, kinuawd'tua?. p6'n! s ina'tua2, Wp'n nih iW~'tah,' inuh inii'niw wi'nahk lAn und'pin~an teh niw; ini'? as VFt ani'nuh UW'Av. h&'w, Ik~te's aydi'wik, siwas anii'mikund'hamunin wZ'wAn', tsi - y6'-mitd'hnatsin, n5'tspinehed'ts3in. s inim-md'k-k-eh-niw-pim6'Ihnet, IcAni'win niw s9'p~w. ha', inuh Ieh et'8ukcan, y6' win di'hpukit, inih nipj'w, ggpeg'w. ha'w, wi'Ii keh wi'hkihes~win s misi'ldit. ni-ma'k-pim6'hnet, ini'win, md'ts-And'm a'pit ini's mi'hika'nih. ini'h-pih,. pime''skAt, tsi'k niw as inim-mdk-pimd.'skAt, -ta? anuh WZ'WAn ini'win ahpd'n s and~'mikund'hah. -inim-md'lc-niwpimdi'skAt, kAni'wi~n niw di'2tikc M"ts-Atct'himin. - 'mis~cu'Ah&8eh ini'win niw as a'?tik; Ikg'spin tdh wi'yAk inuh kayg'sg-nipdik pataki'hah as mg't~ik tdh, ini'win s yd'hpits-nipd'k. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 125 of the rain of arrows,lso strong is myheart," he said again, twitting his other grandson. They merely stared at their grandfather as he nagged them. But then the older one said to his grandfather, "Queerly enough must these old-time people have named each other! Why, one nasty old man is called 'Medicine-Bundle'! Even I am not called'MedicineBundle', I, who now have finished making my medicine-bundle," he said to his grandfather. "Bosh and nonsense! That is the kind of name the old-time people always gave their children!" said the old man. So now he had paid back his grandfather. That is all. 65. LOVE BEYOND THE GRAVE. (Misen Makapiw) A certain man was married to a woman; greatly they loved each other. "If you die first, I shall go with you," he would say to that wife of his. And she, too, then, would say the same to her husband. Then, once upon a time, the woman fell sick; and then she died. When she was to be taken to be buried, the man took his blanket robe. "Now then, I shall go with her; I loved her too much." And when his parents wept and tried to dissuade him, saying "Do not! Do not do that!" then: "No! I shall go with her; I loved her too much." When the woman was being laid away, the man went and lay down there; so then they both were covered there. The man was not dead at all; but he lay there where his wife had been placed; and truly, his parents wept. After a while, lo, his wife's tracks led yon way! And he followed her tracks from there, pursuing her. As he was thus walking on and on, soon there was a river. And the bridge over that water, that river, swayed like this. None the less, he managed to cross. As he walked on, there sat a huge dog in the road. When he had journeyed a ways, going close by there, - for his wife was always making a trail yon way, - as he continued to journey along, after a while, there lay a great strawberry. A little spoon was there too; but if anyone of the dead broke off a piece and ate it, then would he utterly die. 1 Literally the word means "continued smoke". 1 26 128Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hla'?, payi'Atdt ii's teh i'nAuh me'?napus uhs'meh8An as t5iw,i'nit, uma'nakah s ni'k inakah, md"ts-kin6'htem, md'ts8-w9'kiwAm iniwin s a'2tik. 5A, usd'mitin wg'kiwAman; iniwi'n keh, ppatm-t8z'?napd'htsiket, kawi'n wiyAn undiwd'nan inis pi'htilc, mo'sah wg'kiwAMAn. iniwvi'n-pih ~ii'At inih md'ts-wtv'IkiWAM; ha, ke~ts-inii'niw siwas ap~'win. 'ha'? tdh pis-endi'hca yen?' '6", Am', nimd'tim6'hs8em nipis-n6'tspine'heiw.' '6"A", -An A'aaskia-wj'Ahkihanan; kd~ts-sand'kAt.' 'nah&'w, ta'?, kina-kuts89'?ta? keh; kina-ndi'tamun.' hd'w, sa?ydi'A kayg's-nik ay6w NW's?, sa?yd'h wdni'tipd'hkah, iniwi'n-pih sa? yeh ut6'wAhkdi'Akun inuh ke?ts-ind'niw tayi'wahkIc'hkit. bw&"A, usd'matin 6A6piWAk misa's niw uhtsZ'muwA'Ikin, MMA'pitua? $ un&'nikusi'tua?; usd'matin. ha", usiimiwd'katin. 'nah&'w, gh-i'nis as pis-y~h-pi'htika'wane'titua?,. ii's kyA'8inun,' iku'ahin csni'nuh ke~ts-ind' niWAn. hei~ta?, pahpis kah di'win sa?yeh pi'htikawane'titua?, ni'-mitua?,usmi'matin s ni'mitua?, - mdk-niw-ts9'?napum&'tsin, lkAni'win niw W9'WAn s pVb'tikdi'hsiminit, kdi'?ts-ni'mit inuh mitd'muh, wehtaita' nAiw. nah&'w, inuh' teh ke,)ts-ind'niw ini'win dind'tsin ani'nuh ed'neh uma 'nalkah $ aw-inim-isis-mdnd''tua? as i'sehkcawa'tua? aninuh mi~t'Ynuhs8An. he'?, kawin ini's UpiAng'nan ini's as i', kA~t'w-mi8dnii't~sin. inuh ke?ts-ind'ni'Ahseh kd'k~h y6'win dihku'Ahkwah, - pipi'kwAn isind'kWAtin, - ini'win ay6'k- inuh 1ke?ts-ind~'niw as tew-u~t'hpakundi'tsin. kay9,s-teh-inis-pZ'hnahatsin inih pipilcu'ahseh ayei'wik, ini'winpih teA mg'kunan misi kd'[pahilcdt, ki$'pa-kuhah UMA's ayg'tuA. si'w tdA inuh iitsi'w kute'?nas as ki-tani'tah, ini'win d-ni'taA ini's and'miah inuh mitd'muh, utd'?tsiAkun teh. 'nahd.'w, imi'? as kHs-td'pinakih. hd'w, ayjku,'Amisinu'n teA; p6'n pehtd'win. misa's lkinaw-iku'ah; kinaw-inim-md'mami'Ahtumikc; "na's icAt sawd'nimina?; pa~c~tinina?!" kinaw-i'kuah; "kina'?, 'kitdpj,'nin,' kikiw-itd'mipah," kinaw-i'kuah. m&'wa ni kd'k6A kinaw-iku'aA s aw-sawd'nuhtawat. p6'n teA, p6'n pii'Apis!l kWspin kiwii'tei?tayan, icAn mis9i'k kina-uwi'kihani'nawan.' hd'w, iniwi 'n keh pis3-Md'tsiAt inu~h ind'niw, awdnii'tsin wg'w~~n. da, sei'matin md'mami'Ahtvmikcut nd's 1kAI~ s a-[pakg'tinatsin. usa m una'nikwAt UMA'8; nitd'?takats8-isi'AM ini's kay~&-y3Api'yah, y6's teA d's-und'nikwah.' ta'?, kawin kdh ujpi'kitend'nan. ha', misa's mii'wa niw kd'k6h [pi's-iku'ahin s a-pakg'tinatsin; nd's kMt as a-sawd'nimats8in t8iuliku'ah. 'he", pak~tinina?; nina-pem6'Anem!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 127, When he reached that place where the younger brother of Me'napus must be, off yonder in the direction of the setting sun, a great long-lodge, a large house was there. Oh, very many were the dwellings; but then, as he went about and looked, he saw no one within, only empty houses. Then he went to that large lodge; lo, there sat an old man. "Now, on what errand have you come?" "It is only to follow my wife that I have come." "Oh, even so! But you will not, I think, attain her. It is most difficult." "However it be, I have come to follow her; I loved her too much." "Very well, at least we shall try; I will help you." Then, when this sun had set and darkness had fallen, then that old man drummed on his water-drum. And lo, a vast number of whoopers sent forth their voices from every direction, whooping joyfully; a vast number of them. The noise was very great. "Now then, right there, at the place where they come, one behind the other, into the lodge, there do you hide yourself," the old man told him. When accordingly then they filed into the lodge and danced, - great was the dance they held, - and as he observed them, suddenly his wife came dancing into the lodge, and with zeal, truly, did that woman dance. Then that old man bade some of them be numerous in yonder place and block that woman's way. But she did not come to that place where he stood, intending to take her. She danced always far from him. Then that little old man used an object of this length, - like a flute it looked, - to suck her in towards them. When he had put her inside this object which was like a small flute, he closed the openings of it with quills, stopping both ends of it. And as a fly buzzes somewhere, such sound did that woman make within that thing, that woman's soul. "So now we have obtained her. And now be on your guard; do not heed her speech. In every way she will speak to you; she will continue to implore you: 'Oh, pray, take pity on me; let me go from your hands!' she will say to you; 'Remember how you would always say to me, "I love you!"' she will say to you. She will say everything to you, that you may hear her with pity. But beware! If you mistake, we shall not again gain control of her." So then that man set out hitherward, taking his wife with him. Immeasurably did she implore him only to set her down from his hands. "It is so beautiful here; I am unwilling to go to that place from which we came, it is so beautiful here." But he did not let her out of his hand. All things of every kind she said to him, as they came hither, that he might set her down from his hand; she bade him but take pity on her. "Pray, release me from your hands; I shall walk." Publications& American Ethnological Society Vol. XII lkawi'n inuh ind'n~iw upd'htawanan. hd'w, anuh tkJ'wahldi'hkun,sa~eh n~ska'n niw sa~ye'h n5'htawe'wAkin, 8a~ye'h w&~'?naw pflAtd - tua2. 1c6'?sil kawin un6'htawanu'wawan. Iui'w, iniwi'n-pih, 'naha'w, kina-wi'tsiAnj ' ku.'ahin. hdi'w, iniuwin keh pis3-y~h-witsi'Ahtitua2. ta'?. pis-mitsemune'win tek wi'nah. naha'wv, kayj8-pis8-piAtct'tua? ini's s aOni'htua?, sk6'tdw siwas pi'hkinewin. ini'win ds-ku'Ahnitua?; payd'kUw8t ini'win inih W~'YAwvdw as a'2tik, um6'tsim9'hsimuwiiw as a'2tik; niA's wi'nah as pim4'skatua2 s Uta'2tSyAko'witua2 mi'i? as pima'skAtua?. ahpd'n k-d'hk.ind'hkua? inuh inii'niw inis as i8-ku'Ahnet inih sk6'tdw. 1ud'w, kAn2! win niw kd'hkinah inuh ind'niw. hd, A t iy An n6'htawe'win as m3'nilc iis s kis-as~nihtu~a?. paya'kWAtS ani'? 'u.ki'yAn. naha'w, ni'-pih tsiw-6h6'hit. h&', inuh wZ'yAw~1kehk5'hseh wi'yAfl ini'win s no'htawatsin; neskii'n niw tdipiwi'Atamunin.,, ta? Y6'm dt'nehtawAke yen?' indi'niht~min. hd'w, pis-kgwd'pahtuk we' yAwekeh, 'ke~ts-ineni'w,. kd'k,5h nitd'nehz la'wakem ini's kki'sinaw as api'tua?.P '&A, kami'nah ki'nah, a? nd'2s aw-ind'htawakd'yen?' ICA'n! nipd'ts8-n6'htauwwWi'yAk s 6h6'hit!' *M,'w, kitii'sia?!' ldi'2tin n6'htawatsin inuh ke?ts-indi'niw, hM'w, iniwi'n-pih d'wihnt~nui'tsin ind'niwAn, mit'hkahii'htua? teh aki'kuh. kaye-8-m4'wawpct'tS-Mi'Akunameh inih??fi'kdw, ini'win-pih payii'hkinameh inih utd'kum inuh indi'niw, ts6'2nqpuma-'tua?. ta"?, siwas tatiilo'pumikukin, ts89'?napumikutua?. 'naha'w, usg'htukun w4'kiwAm9'hseh; misi'k tdh payi'nisitua? uski'hpiMa'tesiWAk aki'kuh isg'kiwAk lcAt5 us9'htawAk. wdwg'pi~ta'kun!' he'?. iniwi'n s usg'htuh inih w~'kwAmj'hseh. kay&s-k6'sihtuh, ini'2-pih teh a?sa'n Ikdsi'Apehki85h. ha'w, iniwin-pih teh payi'htikanih ini's inuh a~se'n. ha'w, iniwin-pih teh kAni'W payi'htikanih inuh indi'niw kikg'h ani'nuh we' wAn. ha', pimg'h teh ini'win s ki-sg'kilbah inuh ke~ts3-ind'niw ini's a~sa'nih ',kisi'Apehkisit inuh a'2sen. ha'w, pdts-kaski'wa~tik inih w~'kiwAm6'hseh, mni's teh pi'Ihtilk as teh we' yAwekeh ts8iw-utii'nit, - uti'nan tsiw-a'wiwan ani'nuh, in~uh kay9'8-nipa-k Mitd'MUh, - UinA'8 teh ki-n6'htawatsin ki-kii'kitinit, iniwi'n-pih kiw-ined'wimit nuh WeyAWekehko'hseh, ki-kAtd'w-awMbpi'hkiput~k inih wZ'kiwAm9'hseh. ha'w, me'? teh; miAkwdi'pin~awin; yd'hpit8 ni kawin me-na-'nan k-e~tsi'h misi pas i'syAt. ha', nik6'tds ayd'wik, ahk6'?sik nd~ska'n nmw ki-ki'kit~win inuh mitd'muh. k6'?silc nawZ'naw kawi'n uka'kitinan. het'w, naw~'naw ayd'wik, iniwi'n-pihz kaydki'kititua? mis pi'htik unapi'AMAn, kiki'kitutdi'titua?. iniwi'npih inuh ind'niw nipg'w nd'tutah, ki8i'nihkitua2. nahii'w, in&iwinpih teh payd'hkinameh inih w9'kiwAmj'hseh; iniwin pis-kits8'tatua2. ini? keh as yd'h-pemd~'tesit inuh mitd''muh. ini'? keh Wihkik Zh-y5'mdc'tsiMUAn. kAn wi'nah a'pits ahka'num (VWiwan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 129 The man did not heed her words. Then, in time, they scarcely heard that water-drum, having now gone far on their way. At last they heard it no more. Then, "Very well, I shall go with you," she said to him. Then from there they went together on the hither way. Yet he held her firmly by the hand. And now, when, coming here, they had reached that place where they were buried, there a fire burned bright. Into it they leaped; for indeed that was where their body was placed, where lay their flesh; and when they had journeyed, it had been in their spirit that they had journeyed. They lost all sense, as that man leapt into the fire. And then again, of a sudden, that man came to his senses. Oh, he heard someone weeping there where they had been laid away. It was his mother. So then he called out aloud. Oh, then that little old woman heard him; barely did the sound of his voice reach all the way. "Pray, what is this I hear?" she thought. The dld woman ran home, "Husband, something do I hear there where lie our son and his wife!" "Oh, you! What could there be for you to hear?" "No! Plainly I heard someone call." "Very well, let us go there!" The old man did indeed hear him, and so he went and summoned men, and those twain were uncovered. When all the earth had been carefully removed, that man's blanket-robe was laid open, and they looked upon them. And, lo, these others were looking back at them and observing them! "Now then, build ye a hut, and let only such as are pure youths do the building of it. Make haste!" Then that hut was built. When it was done, a stone was heated. Then that stone was placed inside there. Then was that man along with his wife brought into the hut. And then that old man continually poured oil upon that stone which had been heated. Then, when that hut had been carefully covered at every opening, and they were inside there, then would that woman cry out; beyond measure did she cry out. And that old woman whose daughter she was, - the woman who had died was her daughter, - when she heard her again and again crying out, that little old woman would run thither, to throw open the covering of the hut. But there! She was pushed to one side; not at all was she allowed to come near. Then, in time, that woman scarcely cried out at all. After a while, at last she cried out no more. And then, after a while, she and her husband were speaking there within, conversing with one another. Then that man called for water, that they might wash their faces. So then that hut was uncovered; then did they come forth. And thus now that woman lived again. This, then, is the end of this narrative. It is not even very old. 9 V. SACRED STORIES: THE CULTURE HERO. 9* 132 132 ~Publications, American Eth~nological Society Vl I Vol. xii 66. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS& (kisj'WAt5'hseh) d'YAWis niw as ahUc'wikc d'wiw ~'h-y5m a'tSiMuAn. nahud'w, umdi'? tsiW-isj'kimakcah. wgyAwilkehlkO'hseh tsi-td'w; ut&'ncan tdih nilku't k&-d'wiwAnin. niwin-pih ini? tsiW-ind/tsin anih utd'nan: pon nilc6'tuh uma'nakah utsi'ke~syah inei'2namikadpuwi'nun s a-sdi'Iesi yen.' ta'?, nilc~ti's niw as d'wikc, IkAniwi'n niw d's3pehlkAk um6't. nahM'w, nilc6td's iniwin as tsi-wj'2sakesinit anih utd'nan. nahM'w, md'tsme~tik-und'kan y6'win 4nikcit'hkuah tAna'min inuh Wg'yAW~Ieh. nahii'w, ini'? tih s8a~yd'h inuh me~na' pus s aw-a'tsimAkc. nalhi'w, ihpih tsi-wj'?8akesinit anih utdi'nan, iniwi'n teh ts3i-pei'pektsih; inuh y53'win (i'Alit wapus6'hkseh tdlh d'wiwin. kay&~-pii'peht~ih inuh wipu,85'hseh, mameu'pne'win inuh we~'yAwjkehkc6'hseh. iniwi'n ktih s paketinAts'in inih mdts-me~tik-und'kan ana&'miah as Ti'wik. nilk~td's iniwin-pih tdh tsi-1kuts'munatsin anih 6hkumii'h-sAn inuh me~na! pus,. nahd'w, iniwin-pih kd~h tsiw-iitsimi'2talcut: "mdi'2nAnu'apeh ii'wiw kaye's-ne~nAtsin kiki'yAhAn. 6k', lkAn y6's uti'nAn inuh kayj's-ne2 -nAtsin Iciki'yAhAn; imi'? as i't aldi'myah y~m mdi'ts-ke?tsi'kAm, m6'hlkumdin pis-y6'h-aku,'A~tat, d'saw ke~tsikA'rnyah.' 'nahd'w, n~inaw-isi'Am mn's akii'miah.s a-nawjh-ne'2nalk inuh tsi-lces-ne?nA'tsin nilci'yahan. nahd'w, ninaw-isi'AM; ninaw-dsu'ahdn,' jwd'him me~na'pus. 'kilci'wanimim; lkAn pas kiw-1hlkihesi'nan s aw-&su'ahaman.' iniwin-pih tsi-maniwilci'hsit as &s,'htuk wiki'h-5s. nahud'w, iniwi'npih wj,'pan tqiw-us8j'htuk. nak4'w, iniwi'n-pih, Ikay&s-Ic'si1&tukc utlb's, iniwin-pih tsi-Ma'tsiAt s dsu'ahah. ne'2niw IcWs62 ni'w ke'so? 1k~spimei'tsimewin. iniwi'n-pih tsi-nat6'htah wdihtsitA' n~iw as aw-kAnata'kAMiwd'hneh inih ke~tsi'kAm. ta'?, kdi'?tin wdihtsgi'taw, siw und'kanih nipj'w s Iciw-a'2tik, icAn s ki-mdtd'kcAmiwa'hneh ini'win d'8'iki'MAlkah inih lke'2tsilkAm. kay~s-disu'ahah.. si IW'yAk as taniwd'hsinin as ts'kikcahah uhkdc'hkWAnan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 133 66. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS. (Kisewatohsehl). This story2 is of when there first was earth. This, then, is the way it was: There must have been a little old woman; one daughter had she. Then she said to her daughter: "Do not ever stand facing the north when you go out of doors." But then, at one time, her belly suddenly swelled. Then, at one time, the old woman's daughter fell sick. Now, the old woman had a big wooden bowl; as big around as this. Now then, the time has come for me to tell of this Me'napus. So then, when that daughter was sick, he came forth there; it was the little rabbit3 that is as long as this. When the little rabbit had fallen forth, the little old woman seized it in her hands. Then she set it down under the big wooden bowl. And then, when there came falling forth all kinds of animals, she only kept throwing them out of the house, who one after the other were born. Then, at one time, Me'napus questioned his grandmother. Thereupon she told him the tale: "The Flint-Rock is he who killed your mother. Indeed, not here dwells he who killed your mother; over yonder he dwells, on the far shore of this great sea, whence the white man is to emerge, across the great sea." "Well then, I shall go to the far shore there, to kill him who slew my mother. Yes, I shall go there, I shall cross the water," said Me'napus. "You speak foolishly; you cannot make out to cross the water." Then he peeled bark and made a birch-bark canoe. Then he made his arrows. Then, when he had finished his canoe, he set out to cross the water. Three months, four months, he paddled along. Then he prayed that the waters of that great sea be altogether silent and at rest. And, truly like water that is in a bowl, with no sound or movement of the waves, thus became that great sea. Then he came to that one whom he was going out to kill. When he had crossed the water, there was a creature making a great noise, as with some tool it chopped flakes from its own shin. 1 This text was imperfectly obtained; it was the first I took. I was unable to explain to Kisewatohseh the proper speed for dictation, and was not familiar enough with the language to make a rapid transcription. I give it for the sake of a few features which do not appear in the other versions. 2 The word used is that for "any kind of stories," not, as one would expect, the word for "sacred story." 3 Me'napus means "Big Rabbit." 184 134 Publication~s. American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] ta'2 lkdh kd'kahkam niti'nim,-tdt~n; me?8i'h winah d1wiw. nalui'w,. kii'2tin payi,'Atdt, d'8ipeh y6'win as-kWhnapit; 8iwas n.g'puwi'win. tsi'kikaha?8it. y6'win-pih tdh niw d'wih-uh~ts~1k'puwZ'2tawast~in anih' nki'yAn kayes-ne~tU'Akut. ta2, ini-na'Isehlcawe'win; y3'win-pih teh niw wahtsitA' niuw s Ice~te'nAwva'tsin. siw kiw-asi'a~takcj'hnenin inih wj'p. sga~y4'h sAkA'nah maya'2tinah ani'nuh w#Y pan, ikAni win nWu wg' 'Anl pis-uhtsi'minit: 'kAn pas kindi'2nanan; usa'kipAn inih pim6'tah!' inuh y6'w Ici'w-ahlkit pa'hpa~ndi'hs8eh, - lciw-mehki'w we's, - cani'wAnin teh a'nih pi8-wg'htaMA'kut. nahii'w, inuh winah sdt'ki pan niwin pdi'm6tahsI; wadhtsitA kdi'?tin 'sd'V1' iniwd'hginin ma~nAnU'apeh. nahdi'w, mi"i? icelhs k~s-ne~nA't8?in; min"? me~na'pns s kc&-ne'2tAkdt. ta"?, misiwa' niw td'pihsinin nuh a~se'n. nahd'w, iniwin-pik tdh Mi8,ewd' nwW Sd'siWd'pinAtsin anih a?,geni'An. 'mamei'tsi~tawak a-lcgw-aWdi'WAk 8 a-1cjY-sk6ti'hkitua2' ta"?, nike's-tah-niw-nand'muwaWAlk kdc'yAs na"?tAm mamd'tsi?tawale tsi-lkgs-e'witua'?; upg'htsi~nimdwdi'nuwa'? nipa'? s ki-pi'hsinit anuh ma'2nAnu'Apehlkun. ta'?, ini2 ayd'ts-kehkg'nAMAn; ini? m&.'waw. 67. THE BIRTH OF ME'NA PUS. SECOND VERSION. (Jerome Lawe) nik6tdi's nikunt we' yAwekeh ut&'nan ta'wAnin. nalui'w, iniwi'n kih lciw-i8-ayaku'AMimatsin, lkAn niko6'tuh uma'nalkah ut8i'ke?8iah as aw-iwa-'2namikc&'puwinit. ta"?, nct"?s teh ahpx''n aw-mitsgmd'nihtAmuat inuhk lc'kih? nik6td's iniwin as tsi-pei"?t8-ini'nakah-utsi'ke'?8iah-ina'2namilka'puwit. kdi'2tin lkAniwi'n fliw d'8pehkAk um6't. nilk6'tds ini'Wi'n sa? yeA as tsiw-wg"?sakesit. nahui'w, inu'h niw di'YAWiS tayd't, inuh wj'yAwjkeh utdhpine'win. me~tik-undi'kan tAnd'min inuh we' yAwkelhe; ini'win tdh as pakg'tinat~sgn. nahd'w, ini'win-pih teA lcaks-'hkih i8~A-MAneitd'wAk tsiti'tua'?. yi'hpit8 WtM' iniwin-pih tdh inuh ma~nanu'ApeA ts8iwuhtcd'tesit. ta'?, yii'hpits stat'tuslawd'win as p~'kuwkawd'tsin ani'nuh uliytAhsimii'wan. ta'?, iniwin tdA s ni'pdlk inuh m~it'muh. nalui'w, 8a?yeh me?na'pw9 tsi-tdp-d'wit, 6Aku~m4'hs3An as mdi'k-,wiwj'kimatsin. iniwi'n dind'tsin: 'nuhlk3"?, kAsa"? we' yAke ni'ki yak!' '63',' iku'ahin ani'nuk 6hlcumei'AsAn; 'ii'8aw lke~tsi'kamiah ni'? as i't inuh kayg'8-ne'?nat~in lkilk'yahan; ma'?nanu'apeh lciw-i'ndw.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 135 Now I am telling it briefly; for really, there is much of it. Well then, when he had got all the way there, in that place a rock towered, like this, to a peak; there it stood, at its work of chopping flakes. He went and stood up close as this, to the creature that had slain his mother. He kept going closer to it, and from as near by as this, he truly took a close shot at it. The arrow would simply bound back from the hard surface. When he had used up nearly all his arrows, suddenly someone called out from somewhere: "You cannot kill him that way; shoot at his head-gear!" The little woodpecker that is as long as this, - it has a red head, - that was the one that had come and told him this. So then he shot at the head-gear of the rock; truly, "Sah!" sounded the FlintRock as it fell. So now he had slain it; now had Me'napus made his first killing. In every direction spread that rock as it fell. So then he scattered the pieces of rock in every direction. "The human people shall use it when they make fire." And I myself used to see them, the old-time folk of yore; in their tobacco-pouches it used to be, this flint-rock. Now, that is as far as I know; that is all. 67. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS.- SECOND VERSION. (Jerome Lawe)1 Once upon a time a certain old woman had a daughter. And then she used to warn her never to stand facing the north. Well, could you expect that maiden always to keep it in mind? Came a time when by chance she stood facing the north. Truly, of a sudden her belly swelled. And then at one time she became ill. Now, he who was born first, him the old woman took up. The old woman had a wooden bowl; into it she set him down. And then were born all kinds of animals. But at the very last the Flint-Rock came into the world. And in its passage it entirely cut up the mother, breaking her with the force of its body. So now that woman died. Then, in time, Me'napus grew up, dwelling always with his grandmother. Then he said to her: "Why, Grandmother, I haven't any mother at all!" "Oh," his grandmother answered him; "Across the sea he stays who killed your mother; Flint-Rock he is called." 2 Kisewatohseh was kind enough to retell the story in the presence of Jerom Lawe, who dictated it as follows. 136 136 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII (5" wdi'hin me'2napus, 'ninaw-awj'h-ne~naw!' Id"" nm'hsih, k-An PAS kipiAtai'n am' 'kAn nimnaw-iSi'Am kd'h niw!' iniwi'n-pih sayd'h ut6's wdi'8ihtuk. nahii'v% iniwi n-pih misi'lk we'An me?si'h wd'sihtuk. 8a~ye'h Idtta-ma'tsyAt, iniwin d'kut ani'nuh 6hlcumd'hsAn: 'nahii'w, nuhsi'h, wd'htsitaw k!'2tin aw-lkAnata'kamiwa'hnen yom Ice'2tsikAm UnA 's lcinah as lkAtd'w-inim-pima'skAyAn.' kd'2tin ta2 mditsiwin me~na'pus. ne~ni lke's52 tdii pima'skawin. Idi'2tin sa~yd'h ini'M-piAta'win. iniwi'n wi' y~n d'kut: 'si kinaw-tdi'pehtawdffw as A-taniwa'hsih inuh nd'winehat.' Idi'2tin siwa~s tsij'patsinin inuh ma~nanu'Apeh. s~h niw pa'ts niw uhpjkdi'kanih pimi'win; he"?, si kiw -asiA~takj'hninin inih w~'p. piihpis kah a'win sakA'nah maya'2tinah aninuh we'pAn, iniwin-pih wiyAn kay~'kitutd~'kut; inii'win teh mnuh pdihpa2nM'hseh ki-mehkik wa,'S, inft'win ayd'wit. IUScd'kipAn imih pim6'tah!' iku'ahin. Idi'tin me'9napus iniwin-pih inih pd'mutah. kd'2tin pipi'm-wd?'pakmtsinin as tsi-p~'?sihsih inuh ma~nanuf'Apeh. 'naha'w,' iku'ahin misik aninuh pdhpa~ndi'hsA'1, 'esw'ii 'mesj'wdw; mwam 'tsi~taWAk a-kiw-awa'WAk s a-kiw —isk~tC5i'hketua2.' iniwi'n ini's kayjs-isj'kih. 68. THE BIRTH OF ME'NA PUS. THIRD VERSION. (nehtsi.wihtuk) nahdi'w, inu'h md~'waw kdi'k~h kaytis-usj'htuk, kayis-kWsihtuk. jh-y5'm mind8s, iniwi'n-pih MAMa'tSi~ta'wan kayt&-us&hiitsin. kay&skUsiha'tsin, wapimi'nan kis-mind7win, misi'k tehk wind'mehkWA~n, misi'k teh MAslciitsihsAn; ini'win kayiTs-ind'huna'tein ani'nuh umaMi'ts8i~taWi'AMAn. -nah&'w, iniwi'n-pih tih kayes-ndna'kAtawa'nihtah md'waw kdi'k~h kayis-usi'htuk.'nah&'w, e~'h-ay6' niw kAts ~pimii'tesiw,' indi'nihtA'mnin, 'jh-ayu'm ahkg'w. ki2sZ'hsAn tdh a-kikc~'-&njw, a~s aw,-unitsi'Anehsit, unitsi'AnehsAn as aw-&'winit. iniwi'n niw wd'h-5n~t ayu'rn ahkj'w as a-MAMd'tsi~ta'wit. nits.i'Anun tahkana'win; ki~sg'hsAn Uth d'WiWA'nin. w~,'k ust,'htawin, wei'kini'1kdn. hi'pw, ini2-~pih tdh na'p kei'kah niw tsiuw-apdi'hkWAtsi'kdt. w~'k tdih as taki'k, iniwi'n lkeh as wawj'kit we-yAwjkehk6'hseh, as 7Y1tsikih&'tsqin utdi'nihsAn. hd'w, nik~td's iniwi'n sa~ye'h as wei'ppim6'hnet ki~s~'hseh; hoiw, ahk6'2sik niw Idi'k~h kiw-an~mff'win utdi'nan. k~tdi's niw as d'wik, ah-k62si'k niw Ici-MAna'hnewin,. mehsg'wAn me~ndihkute'WAmA s ki-papa'm-mdwatq-'hnitukc. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 137 "So that is it," said Me'napus; "I shall go slay him!" "Why, Grandchild, you cannot reach the place." "No! I shall go just the same!" Thereupon he built his canoe. Then also he made himself a plenty of arrows. When he was about to set out, his grandmother said to him: "Now then, Grandson, truly shall the waters of this sea lie noiseless and still while you are on your voyage." Indeed Me'napus went forth. Three months he journeyed. Indeed then, continuing on his way, he arrived. Then someone said to him: "You will soon be within hearing of him whom you are seeking out, as he comes down with noise." Truly, there loomed that Flint-Rock. With careful aim he shot it in its ribs; why, the arrow kept bounding back from the rock! When he had almost exhausted his arrows, then someone spoke to him; it was the little woodpecker whose head is red, he it was. "Shoot his head-gear!" it told him. Truly then Me'napus shot that. And indeed the Flint-Rock came tumbling down and fell crashing to splinters. "Very well," the little woodpecker again told him," scatter it in all directions; the human people will use it to make fire." That is what happened there, they say. 68. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS. - THIRD VERSION. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) He who created all things, having completed this island,1 then created man. When he had completed him, he gave him Indiancorn and the squash and beans; these things he doled out to his human creature. Then he took thought, who had created all things. "Now then, let this one too have life," he thought, "this Earth; and let her arise together with a girl, so that she may have a child." At this the Earth arose from there to live in human shape. In n/ her arms she held a child; it was a girl. She built herself a house, a round-lodge. Then, with whatever thing there was, she made a thatching. Then, having now a house, the little old woman dwelt there, bringing up her little daughter. The time came when the girl began to walk about; then, at last, she could give her daughter chores to do. Finally came a time when she used to gather firewood, going about piling up faggots and large dry sticks. Properly, the earth; sometimes, however, the white man comes from elsewhere, so that "this island" is then our continent. 138 138Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Iu'w, ini'win sa? yeh as kAtd'w-ws~he'tsinMrAndto'WAn inuh md~'waw kd'kceh kayeis-usj'htulk. pdi'pik kcehk#g'nawewin inuh WtyAW~kehlcohseh ani'nuh rni'waw kdi'k~h kaye-s-usg'htuk inih kditaw-isj'2tAnit, as usenawana'tsin teh ani'nuh ut&'nan na'p ndslcd'n payi'tsikciha'tsin. ta'2, kcehlk'namin kAn Wi' yAf as kAtdi'w-di'winit inuh We-yAWCkehko'hseh ani'nuh ut&'nan. iniwi'n-fpih tdh di'nuw wayghtam~wd'tsin aw-ise'?tanit. 'naha'w, nita'h, apdhpeni'siwAk kdi'taw-isg'Ikiyen; Icd'lc6h kilca'tewisg'kim. ayalcuAmisi'nun tdh; y6'm aw-ind'nAn inik niwdi's mits99 -md'nihtah,' ind'win utd'nan; "ninA's IcAn-lcawa'h as 1ki-pimi'm-indn'nhlke' yen akcu'Atsih, p~n nik6'tuh uma'nakah utsike?8i'ah i'nAlcah isi's-utei'hpinah 9'h-anum mehs~'hsn, as ki-papd'm-miimd'wati'hnitawan; ahpd'n niw ulma'nakah sd'wanuh i'nalkah y6'2-nalkah, a-lkiw-inii'2namilca'puwi'yan, as kiw-ut&'hpina'man kdi'k,5h.' ini'win din&'tsin ut&'nan we9yAWjkehko'hseh. h&'ta2, iniwi'n keh dinanii'hkAsit ki~sg'hseh. 'ha'w, ta'2 teh y6'm tsi-kAtd'w-i89'ki yen?' indi'nihtAmnin lki~sg'hseh pmi -tanli'hkami'ki sit. kii'ta2, ndi'sikas iiyi'wiwin kaye-s-w9'htaMnA'kut ani'nuh u'kiAn; nik~td's keh ni'w as d'wik, Iud~ta2, ini'u'in kdh as wang'2tAt inuh ki~s9'hseh; kAn-lkawa'h as pmim'm-ind'hkami'ki sit ini's aklcu'Atsih, mehsg' W~n as pimi'm-m~mdwats9'hnituk, iniwi'n as wang'2tW, u.Me'win-nakah utsi'ke?siah dnd'2namikd'pvwit, mehsg'wan as utd'hpinah as n~kika'puwit Iki~s~'heh. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih payiti'wdk inih n5'we~nen. Icawin p6'ts8 umdi'hkawe'nihtanan ki~stj'hseh; wa'wahte? niw ini'win as tasi'ahkah ani'nuh umd'hsi&MAn. pis-pakdi'me~neh inih n6'we?nen, wvdki2 na'p inih utdinf'hpis tsiw-d'Wi'k, umd~'win-nakah uhpdi'hkwAnih i'nalcah d'hpaki'te~neh ini'h utdnii'hpis3, as pii'hke2 -neh. MAW, mdi'mikc niw m6'8ihta'win inih n6'wve~nen inuh lki~sj'hseh, nii'p unma'naicah uhkd'tih i'nakah s kAtdVw-is39wi'pinah inih utdnii'hpis. wi'Ici kdihna'p pmi'm-wi'hlcihta'win as miyii'wiwd'pinah utdnd'h Pis ki~sj'hseh. mU,"A, iniwi'n-pih met'hkawle'nilhtah inih kayj's-ikut 71 kinn.,A, ini'2 keh niki'ah as aw-dya'ne?,sit!' ind'nihtA'min lkis9'heh. kcawin p6'ts uwi'hkihtvu'nan ani'nuh umii'hsiMAn as IcAta'w -a'?25$Slv Ce' nah kc~s9'hseIh; wdi'hts8ita'w ini'win as kas8kd'nihtah. iniwi'n-pih kay~'wdt; slcu'Ahtemih aku'Atsih ini's ini'win as ini'm-nan6'puwit as 1c6'2natsin u'IkiAn s aw-ayd'ne~nikut. iniwi'n niw as niing'puwit isku'AJhtemih; pd'pik misi'k 1c8-lkehk9'nawve'win inuh,weyAwelkehW6hseh. 'hM'w, nita'h, pihtike'nun! apa'hpeni'8iWAk! 'pd't8-mitsjmdi'nihtah," lkitd'nine,'mipah! ta2 Ah ts8' nap awv-i89'ki yen?' ind'win utii'nan weyAwekehlko'hseh. WIu'a, iniwi'n keh na'p as8pi'htiket ki~s6'hseh, s awgh-i'yapit ini's wg'1c6wa?. 'Ihi'A nita'h, ayaku'Amisi'nun! kAn kAta'w4Wsek1inun! isg'kimakat 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 139 Then came the time when the Creator of all things intended to create game-animals. At once the little old woman knew what that Creator of all things intended to do, for she was concerned for her daughter, whom she had been at such pains to raise. Too wall the little old woman knew that her daughter would come to naught. Nevertheless then, she told her what to do. "Now then, my daughter, there is great danger for your fate. Something is going to happen to you. Be on your guard; this which I shall tell you, try, as well as may be, to keep in mind," she said to her daughter; "When out of doors here you are going about, working at this and that, do not ever pick up kindlings when facing toward the north, when you go about piling them; always you are to stand with your face to the south, like this, when you pick things up." So spoke the little old woman to her daughter. Of course, the girl accordingly did as she was told. "Why, what is this thing that is to happen to me?" thought the girl as she went about her tasks. Things went well enough with her after her mother had told her this; but then at one time, why, the girl simply made a slip; as she went about out-doors there, working at this thing and that, gathering firewood, she forgot herself. She stood facing the north while she leaned over to pick up sticks. Then the wind came rushing on. The girl did not remember at all; unheeding she kept on at her firewood. On came the wind, blowing with violence; whatever sort of thing she may have had for a dress, up over her back it was blown, her skirt, opening in the wind. Now, of course, the girl did feel the wind and tried to fling her skirt, poor thing, down over her legs. In the end she did manage to get her dress down straight. Then she remembered what her mother had told her. "Oh dear, now my mother will surely scold me!" thought the girl. Not at all was she able any more to gather firewood; truly now she felt oppressed in her mind. So then she went home; she remained standing outside the door there, fearing the scolding her mother would give her. There she kept standing, in the doorway; at once the little old woman knew about her. "Oh dear, Daughter, come inside! We are in a sorry plight! Did I not tell you, 'Keep it well in mind'? What ever is to become of you now?" said the little old woman to her daughter. So then, at any rate, the poor girl came in and went and took her seat within the lodge. "Alas, Daughter, be on your guard! But there is no escape! It will happen anyway, that which is to happen to you," she said to her daughter. 140 140 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ha'w, naw~na'hsihsih niw ay&'wik, ini'win as kehUc'nah nitsi'Anun as tand'tsin inuh k~2se'hseh. 'CMA, yo'sa2 inih kayjs-1k62te'sit ni'kiah!' indi'nihtA'min ki~sj'hseh, tsiw-a'yapit. hdi'w, nik~tdt's keh niw ay4'wik, ini'win sa~ye'h as W02sake'sit ki?.sj'hseh. ha'ta2, Wj'yAWj1kehk5'hseh we'htsitaw ini'win as s1'kisit, as W~'?sakesinit uta'nan. ha'w, iniwi'n sa~yeh nik5'td8s as uht&'tesinit unitsi'AnehsAn, hpih payd'pehtsindi'nikc unitsi'Aneh~sn 1ki~sj'hseh. misj'we wdhtsi'taw tsi'hkiwewin j'h-y~m ahkj'w, ah tsi'hkihsih me~na' pus. ha'w,, pdhni'hseh &'wiwin; wjyAw~lkehk5'h,3eh ut&'hkehklcAniIh ii'wvin as a?na'tsin; ut~nd'kan uta'hpinA'min as pitd'kuha'ts8in 6hsih8d'h8An. ha'w, ini'win-pih teh j'h-akum, mama'h-awut'tukAkc kayjs-,uhtdtesi'ftta2. UMA's niw i'nim,-ahpi'htsi~tatua2, ini'win niw as inim-mditsyA'tu~a2. Mh-y5'm tdh kge'sik as pasi'pahki'hneh, ini'win-nakah dsma'tsiAt j'h-ayum usa'wanupine'hsiw kiw-i'nih. h&'w, misi'k nikvu't,uhtatte~si'win awd~'tuk; hi'w, uma'nakah tdh as ni'k inak~ah y5'winnakah winah a~p s-M&'tsiAt. h&'w, sa~ydh misi'k nikut uhtdtesi'win; h&'w, uma'nalcah utsi'ke~siah i'nakah y6'win-nakah wina'h ap dsMii'tsiAt. ha'w, misi'k nikut pimi'm-uhtd'tesi'win; UMAx's niw kay&suhtha'tesit, wina'h ap ini'win niw as ni'pi~tAt;, uma'na-kah tdh pitsy6'h-wd'pah ina'lkah y6'win-nalkah,is-Ma'tsiAt. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih tdh Z'h-akum, w'y~xk is j'h-MAndit5'wAk ini'm-uhtdtesi'tua?. dA, wd'htsita kd~"2tin ini'win as una'nikuah, rnAndit6'WAk as uhtii'tesi'tua2; md'wa niw ini' win niw as ini-wdp&'wane'titva2. kaki'hkih isj'h-uhp~"2 -taWAlk misi'k akum pdipyA'situa2 mAndato'WAk. ma"waw ini'win as kUs-uhtd'tesitua?. unah7'W, yiihpi"ts uti'h as v'iwik, in-i'win-pih wi'nah ap wdhtli'tesit Z'h-ayum ma~nanu,'Apeh. kay~is-uhtd'tesit, ini'win wdihts3ita' niw, mistq'?wd niw as k~skehkawd'tsin ani'nuh uki'ahsuwa'wan. h&'ta2, apd~tsi'n tdh mehki'h aw-uhtsj'kawi2? ini'win kah as pj'hkikawit ki2s~'hseh; nik~tii's as d'wik pmim-ani'h-pimdtes~' win. 6hwii', WeYAWekehko'hseh utd'nan na'p saki'hkine'win as sakahkihsima'tsin. hud'w,, kayj8-sakdihkihsimdi'tsin na'p, ini'win as &'yapit WeyAWekehko'hseh. wi'ki2 teh uti'skutem? ini'win s kis-ya'hp its-, ii?tiyapei'wdlc utdskute'MuWAW. 1MAta, ay6 wi'nah apdhni'hseh imi's as ki-nand'hapit, pa,'hpisiw ki-tsi'hkiwc'win y6'm ahk~w, tsiw-ahp~'1htesit pdhni'hseh. h&", nap WZyAwjkehko'h~seh kay~s-nan&'hihtukc inihw k niwnas i''yapit. k~td's niw ayd'wik, iniwi'n-pih nd2s8pihkina'm in ut~ni'kan. nima'w2, apahni'hseh iniwi'n ni pits-y6'h-miya'wi~tAt as api't as ayafald'pit. Cmm, no hsihseh!' ina'win wveyAwjkehkc6'hseh as ut&'hpina'tsin 5hsihsa'hsAn. Ata2, apdhni'hseh y6'win nw npma'tsin, 6'hkumd'h8An as tahk6'nikut. W~a. iniwi'n keh s kdikani'wiha'tsin 6ksihsa'hsAn. ta?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 141 After a little while, the girl knew that she was carrying children. "Oh, so this is what my mother bade me fear!" thought the girl as she sat there. Then, in time, the girl fell sick. Then indeed was the little old woman frightened, when her daughter fell ill. And then at one time, her children came into the world, the girl's children fell forth, one after the other. The entire extent of the earth roared loud, as Me'napus with loud noise struck the ground. So then, it was a boy; truly glad then was the little old woman that she was to have a grandson. The little old woman took up the boy; she placed him by her hearth; she took her bowl and with it covered her grandson. Then these large spirit-animals came forth into life. As fast as they did so, they went from there, one after the other. Where this sky hangs over the world, in that direction went this creature which is called the Southern Eagle. Then another spirit-animal was born; toward the place where the sun sets. in this direction went this one. Then another was born; toward the place whence the cold blows, this was the direction in which it went. Then another, in turn, was born; as soon as it was born it rose to its feet, and thither whence comes the dawn, this way it went from there. Then these gameanimals of all kinds were born in succession. Oh, truly it was beautiful, as the game-animals were born; all of them even then started away in single file. Then all kinds of flying fowl and the small animals, all these then were born. But then, at the very last, this Flint-Rock came into the world. When it was born, then truly with its body it entirely cut apart that v mother of theirs. Oh, how the blood did flow! So then the girl bled to death; after a time she had ceased to live. Alas, the little old woman laid her poor daughter to rest; she laid her away in the ground. When she had laid her away, poor thing, there dwelt the little old woman. But what had become of her fire? Their fire had beer entirely put out by the flow. But as for the boy, when he placed himself to sit up, at once the earth would roar, so great was his mystic power. The poor little old woman straightened out her house and sat there. After a time, it occurred to her to lift up the bowl. Why, the boy straightened up and sat there, looking round. "Mm, my darling little grandson!" said the little old woman to her grandchild as she took him up into her hands. Attentively the boy gazed at his grandmother, who was holding him in her arms. So then she kept and reared her grandson. What 142 142 Publications, American Ethntological Society Vol. XI] na'p ini'h nap tsi-kU-ni'htsikcet inuh wJyAWekehkc6'hseh, nd'2s kutV'icune 'win ani'nuh 6Ihsihsa'hsAn. hud'w, iniwi'n niw wd'htenah inih 4'hsarni'kut 5hkcumd'h8A~n, as m~'sikc inuh apdhni'hseh. nilc~td's Ikeh niw sa~ye'h pim6'hnewin pdhni'hseh; ha'w, wvehtsitaw ini'win piipimni'pahtulk. nik~tdt'8 sa~yeh ini'win sa~yeh as me~nilce'nit apahni'hseh;,wehtsita' mmn ni'w nehR'h-k&1c~kit6'wvin. Idi'ta2. weyAWeke hko'hseh kdilc-'litutawa'tsin 6hsihsd'h8An. h&'A. nilk~ti's na~s kutsimune'win 6hkumd'hs~n, UhA, nuhk6A2, tdi'2 teh dsiki'makah eh-y3'im. IkAn kdi'I6h as d'wik sk5'tdiw?' ind'win 5hkumd'hs~n. ChA nuh8~'h, ta2 d~s-1itdmaki'yen? kiki'ahs8&waw, ihpih kayjsauht~ies'ydk, ini2-pih 1kayes-hd&'2tiydip&'wdik kitdsk~te'minaw.' 'cY! ind' win me'2napvus 6hlkwmd'hsAn; 'hd'w, nuhlk6'2, ninawnt~nd'hdn icAn e'2 Icute'?nas as a-talki'lk sk6'tdw,' indi'win 6hkunui'hsAn..naA, nuhs~h, ak&'miah Mh-y5'm mats-lke~tsi'lkam ini'? nikut as taki'k ahkcg'w; ini? as i'tua2 ii'neh pdmii'tesi'tua2; tanii'mulk sk5'tdw,' iku'ahin 6hkumd'hsAn; 'kmn pAs kipiAta'nan.' '6A!I h'nuhk6'2, IkAn wd'2naw d'wiwan; nina-nii'tin. nine'? ayi'Wi yen; me'?napus nitdk~d'm, nuhk6'2; kAn kdi'k6h nitd'nawvj'htunan; nina-pi' tn,' indi'win 6hkumd~'hsAn. 'MA, nuhsi'h, wdiwt'pats pi'tawan!' ind'win 6hsihsd'h8An U'eyA-,w~kekk'hseh. 1ta? 6', nuhk6'2, auw-inim-isi'kitua? nis~'hsAk hdi'ts3 ahki.'w awini-taki'k, lAfl kcd'1k~h s aw-inim-&'wik sk6'tdw?' pay,'IcWAts ini'sa2 kay&~-ind'nihtah inuh mdi'wa ni kd'k6h kay~gu~sj'htu~k, ani'nuh tdh as aw-inim-miyd'winamenik kdi'k6h. und'?tamft'hsiAnAn tah as &'winit. ha,'w, iniwi'n-pih mayi'tsiAt apdihni'hseh. payi'Atat ini'h ke~tsi'kAM, 6A, ahpdn di'win ini-pAna'pAMina'kuah. 'nahdi'w, ta'? teh y6'w tsiw-avw-isej' ta yen?' ind'nihtA'minpkilni'hseh. ini'win as ndi'mik ani'nuh tdh, - me~tikumih8A'hihsih kiWakotad'wAn; ye5'? kiw-inikahkimimnakdi'hkin; pdhkii'AhkWAt6'h8An kiwit& 'nan. ini'win niku't pd'hlkinah me?napus65'hseh; iniwi'n as jh pahah. kayis-mi'waw-w~'hpahah, 'nalud'w, kits niniihd'nisim! P wdi'hinnimd'2, apdhnih89'hseh umd'win niw dinike'nit! ini'win as8 pi'htiket inih pdhkii'AhkwMt6'hqeh. hM'w, kay&s-pi'htiket, iniwi'n-pih lcdpii'hkuhah ini'8 kayg8-y6h-i'htiket. 'hd'w, uma'nalkah as ni'k inalcah kids uhtd'2Inen. as a-ka"2ts,nb'we?neh!' jwi'hin me~napU86'h8eh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 148 ever poor stuff the little old woman was in the way of eating, she tried to get her grandchild to eat. The boy up and reached for what his grandmother gave, and ate it. In due time the boy was walking; then truly he ran all over the place. At last the boy grew large; and also he truly was well able to speak, so that the little old woman now conversed with her grandson. Then once, by chance as it were, he questioned his grandmother, "Now, Grandmother, how does it happen, this thing, that there is no fire?" he asked his grandmother. "Oh, Grandchild, Grandchild, what a pitiful question! Your mother, when all of you were born, - that was when our fire was flushed out with the flow." "So that is it!" Me'napus answered his grandmother; "In that case, Grandmother, I shall look for it; to see if somewhere or other there be not fire," he told his grandmother. "Oh, Grandchild, on the other shore of this great sea there is a land; there dwell some people; they possess fire," his grandmother told him; "You cannot possibly get there." "So that is it! Why, Grandmother, it is not far; I shall go fetch it. It is I; Me'napus I am called, Grandmother; there is nothing I cannot do; I shall bring it," he said to his grandmother. "Well, Grandson, it will be well enough, if you bring it!" the little old woman answered her grandson. "Oh, but, Grandmother, how will my uncles' continue to fare as long as the earth shall endure, if through the course of time there is to be no fire?" As a matter of fact, the Creator of all things had planned all this, and that Me'napus should continue to set things right, being his firstborn child. So then the boy set out. When he reached the sea, why, off without end it extended beyond the reach of sight. "Now then, how am I to do this thing?" reflected the lad. Then he saw some of those things, - on little oak-trees they hang; round things as big as this; oak-galls they are called. Little Me'napus broke one off; he hollowed it out. When he had entirely hollowed it out, "Now then, let me be small!" he said. Lo, a tiny little boy, as big as this, he was! Then he went inside the oak-gall. After going inside, he closed up the place by which he had entered. "Now then, from the west let the wind blow, and let there be a mighty wind!" said little Me'napus. Mother's brothers and their descendants in male line, - the sacred relationship. We, as well as Me'napus, are grandchildren of the Earth, and we are Me'napus' "uncles" and "aunts". 144 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII di'hku~pi'1kah iniwvi'n as a'2telc inik _Tdhkv'AhkWAt6'hseh. hU1, AnawZ'naw iniwvi'n 3a~ye'h as pitd&'nimah. nahd'wv, w&'htsita. kdi'tin siw ni'nm-ti'?tihnenin ini'h pehk-u'Ahk-WAt6'hseh nipi'hih. 'hii'w, min'h 8k~td'wv tsi-tand'h qfncttaPi'Anih inii2 s aw-alcuAya'2 -siyen!' Zw4'hin me~napus65'hs3eh. hA ta2, ap/i'2tsipitdt'? teh inih n5'we~nen? kAnahwZ'nuh akuAy4i'2 -Oivin akii'miah inih md"t8-ahkjw as tsi -ta'Ici I. h&' nikc~td's keh niw, J'.i tsimilkA't niwl kAn tSi-MdtSi'8kAk YOin a pi'hsi yen,' indnihtA'Min. md'n~awats iniwi'n as tawd'hah; ini's tdh as y6'h-an&'pit, 1u7'ta2, kWsik ndi'muahin. ho'w, iniwi'n-pih Apd'2sik me,?si'h td'wAhii-'h inih vUpahku'AhkWVAtUM; hdi', ahkt,'w. n4'muahin, ini'wvin -s pimbi'm-kitsiW'tsikit, me~napusr-5'k,8eh. imi n ~ t'pit n&'hkpimih,. niiAm"wU''iHWAM siwa's aOte 'win. 'hdA, y6'? kdh inih pits-isi 'yen,' ina'nihtAmin m9na'pus;, 'aha'w, Wu7'Pws kAIts niltd'wim; nina-nahd 'nisim, ',~?vd'hin. hwd 'a', wip'as68 'hseh siwas ap~,'win. innuh ini's, tsi-wj'kituntJ 'nan ta'uanin. nbisRwA'nin uta 'nan, ki?,s~'hSAk-,. iniwin-pih nipj'w pis-nd'ti"kua2; pixtd'turP. inih nip~'w 1kUApahJ'hku~a2, hwwA, 1:Ani'wvin lkeh ni'w miis d~'hkvupi'kah ayd'pitsnind'hkata' pit wdpus5'hseh. 'i!/dAh, akj?~~, na'wecheh o5'h-agv!.m!1 w4i'ts3itawv mi'i as 6n4'sit!' ~nahM7'wv akF?', hAt8 kimd'8inu,'naw; kinaw-awd-n6'n-aw kjekinan5'2. a-kawtdi'iw; nina2 J' h-a yum kjs-apft'sit, aw-u~na'siw: kitd~htanu'mb~inau aw-& 'wiwv,' it'wakin aki'kuh ki~s~,'hSAk. inilwi'n-pih teh mdisina'tua2. hd'ta2. kay~s-misdn&'tua?, tattahku,nji'tua2. ha" 'tA9, una'nime')WAkin..naha'w, p~n wi'nah wjhtam6 'win k65'hnin; kinaw-&yane~niku,'naw,' itOWAkin. 'nah&'w, kAniwi'nah,' ~wdi'hin inu'h nikut. ani'nu~h teh 6hnuwa'wan, kaki'pihk~win inuh ke~ts8-in4'niw; kawi'n una'mninan. payiAtd'tvaP, pihtike'tua&. ho'w, tsi'kiskuniah ini'win as a&na'tua2 as aw&'siha'tua2. hd'ta&. me'2napus sk6'ftiw as nd'mik, yii'pits nindhkata'piwin; nd'sAp teh ni'w as ise'2tAt. kawi'n winah kd'2tin up#~kitsi'nan. hdiA, kiw-dydy5'sinawd'tua2 aki'kuh ki~sZ'h8Ak as und'nima'tua2. h&j', inuk ke'2ts-indi'niw! 45U'AkdaW ini'win $ sehk~'hsih; kaki'pihk~w; kawi'n und'minan. kAniwi'n Idih niw wd'htsimit: 's~Ah, ninitsi'AnehsAk, wd'ki2 inih aydydy5's3ina'mdik? nd' kdh nei' kd'k~h kpis-tasi'Ahkemuaw-eh. ahk5'w; mats,'2 Wi yAk.i'wiw." nd keh na'p kinu'a2 inu'h kits-ndiwdwa.'w-eh,' ~wd'hin inuh ke~ts-ind'niw..aA nuhne'2, nina'? keh nap niw u'~ ayaMiAn'itah' indi'WAkin ani'nuh 6hnuwd' WAf. dA ta2, iniwi'n s piini'tah inuh ke~t8-indi'niw. niko~td'skeh ni'w ayei'wik, kayZ's-mdiminund'nihtah kdi'taw-isj'?tAt me~na'pus, hii'w, iniwi'n-pih katapdi'htah ini'h nikut kahlcd'hna~tew. hd'ta2, aki'kuh ki~sj'hsAk ini'win-pih wayi'htam~wd'tua? &hnuiwa'wan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 145 At the edge of the water lay the oak-gall. In a little while the breeze came blowing. Truly then that oak-gall simply bounded along over the water. "Now then, at the landing-place of him who possesses the fire let me be blown ashore!" said little Me'napus. Oh, how the wind sped! In very short order he was blown ashore on the other side of the water, where that great land must be. Then, in due time, "There, it really seems that this thing in which I am is no longer moving," he thought. He made a little hole in it, and when he looked out from there, why, he saw sky. So now he made larger the hole in his oak-gall; sure enough, he beheld land. Then little Me'napus crawled out. When he looked upshore, lo, there stood a large house. "Well, so this is that place for which I am bound," thought Me'napus; "Very well, let me be a rabbit; I shall be small," he said. Why, there sat a little rabbit. He who dwelt there had daughters. Two daughters had he, young girls. At this time they came to fetch water; when they came there and drew the water, why, all at once there at the edge of the water sat quivering a tiny rabbit. "Oh, Sister, do look at this creature! Really, he is pretty!" "Yes, Sister, let's catch him; we'll take him along home. He must be cold; I tell you, when he is warmed up he will be lovely; we shall have him for a pet," said those girls to each other. So then they caught him. Oh, when they had caught him, they held him by turns and thought him so dear. "Now, don't tell Father about it; he will scold us," said one to the other. "No, indeed," answered the other. Now; the old man, their father, was blind; he could not see at all. When they came to the house and entered, they set it down by the fireside to warm it. Oh, when Me'napus saw the fire, he trembled and trembled where he sat; but he was only doing thus in pretense; he was not really suffering from the cold at all. Oh, those girls laughed over him and thought him cunning. But the old man lay at the far side of the lodge; he was blind; he did not see it. Then suddenly he called from there: "Dear me, children, what is that you are giggling over? One would think you had brought something in here to play with! You know, it has been said, 'A god has been born in a land over yonder across the sea; a being of great power is he.' One would almost fearyouhad come uponhim," saidthe oldman. "Why, Father, it is only we who are playing our games here," they said to their father. So then the old man ceased talking. But in due time, having thought over what he would do, Me'napus made a jump for one of the glowing logs. Then the girls did tell their father about it. 10 146 146Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hkey, nuhndA?, 8kOtd'w kAtdw-awa'taw j'h-ayum!' 'lui'w, kitad'ninemu'A~pah!' sii'kitsi'pahtuk me'2napus, h&'w, inuh ke~ts-ind niw ini win niw winak a'p ds-nj'puwi'pahtukc, pimej'nisihukut k1c42t-indi'rnwAn. MaA~?, me'napus wd'htsita'w ini'win as wis&'hukut ani'nuh Ice~tsind'niwAn; n6'hpimih misa's ini'win-nakah pd'pamind'simit. iyd Ah, d'n~w winah inis as lcali'pihlci'nit, kawi'n uwii'nipalui'nan. ume'winpih as kiw-isii'pahtamd'sit, Iki-pi'hpahtunilk. h&'w, nilk6'td~s ayci'wik, pah~tulk. taydpii'pahtah inih nipg'w, %h~Ay, neh86A2, ta'2-nalcah ayi'yen, me?na'pu8.?dA ay6 winah mdi't8-Misina'mek mdk-8dsehk6'hsih, kArn'win niw nay,3'htawa'tsin uOnd'hsAn. si'temih ini'win as awjh-sdi'hkciI&sih. ihtayei'h, me'2napvus wd'htsita Idi'2tin ini'win s ldi~ts-mii'tssAt, payiAtd'wipa-'htulk uhs6'mehsAn mi~sina'melcun. '1hd'w, ng'winak alcu'm sakde'hlci~ta'h,' iku'ahin me~na'pw~. tsiww6'winan tdh ani'nuh ini' win s sakid'hki~tat; kahtsi'2net, n6'9s36h wd'htsita kci'2tin pimi'pis~win. h6hWdA, ke~ts-ind~'niw ndslce'n niw nd'wipund'win misina'mekun. miyd' silcas 6'hlkumd'hsAn w~'1kih, - hM', me'2napus wdhtsita'w iniwi'n h d'2namAtehki'2sit; nanii'h-palki'tipi's~win. kAnahw6'nuh piAta'win 6hlkumd'hsAn. CM'w, nuhlk6'2, k'pt'tuAn islk6'tdw; p6tcawe'nun!' ind'win 6hk/umd'hsAn. wgyAwekehlcohseh fpmim-p~tawe'win. ini'2 icah skc6kd'w as icitaki'lk.h-y5's gh-y5' minds. ini'? Icdh 1cay&-isg'1kit me'2napu9 6h-y5's s k&~-uhtdi'tesit, nilc6tunuh. 69. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS. - FOURTH VERSION. (kimg' wan) naIhd'w, ni'siwanin nilci't wjyAwe~kehlcohseh utd'nan. nalhi'w, iniswi'n dimi'tsin ninuh 5'hsihsei'hsAn: 'p6'n,. nuhsi'h, nik6tuk uma'nalcah& is-1jw4'?tah, umA's s ki-mand~'hne yen.' nahM'w, iniwi'n-~pih teA ahpki'n ni niw-mitW8mdi'nihtaA. nak&'w, nik6ted'8 ini'? uma'nalcah as lcewd'?tAt. iniwi'n-pih tdA payi'te~neA s ne5'we~neh. Ahi'w, anuh awa'tukcAn s'i? as wg~'kmikcut inuh mitd'muh. nahd'w, nd's tdk ta? aydydi'wikc, iniwi'n sa~dhi' s wj'2sak1cesi inuh mita'mush. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 147 "Oh dear, Father, this creature wants to carry off the fire!" "There! Didn't I tell you?" Out ran Me'napus, and at once the old man leaped up and ran, pursuing him. Truly, the old man pressed close upon Me'napus; he fled this way andthat upthe slope of the shore. Why, even though the other was blind, he could not run fast enough to lose him. Every time he took a look behind him, there was the other running right close. Then, at one stage, truly he sprinted at a great rate; now was the time when he ran down the slope of the shore. When he had come in sight of the water, "Heigh,Younger Brother, wherever you are, come get me! I want to cross; I want to get to the other shore," cried Me'napus. As for the Great Hairy Fish, as it was lying at rest, suddenly it heard its older brother. To the shore it went and beached itself. Dear me, Me'napus did surely go fast, running to his younger brother, the Great Hairy Fish. "There, hold on to my horns here," it told Me'napus, as, without stopping his course, he flung himself on its head. He took hold of its horns; he pushed off with his foot, and at once he was speeding along far out from shore. Oh my, oh my, the old man just barely failed to reach the Hairy Fish as he snatched at it. Straight for his grandmother's house, - truly Me'napus' hair blew in the wind; splendidly he darted along. Very soon he reached his grandmother. "There, Grandmother, I bring you fire; set your hearth a-going!" he said to his grandmother. The little old woman set about building the fire. And thus it was that fire came to be even here, on this island. Thus it was, then, that at this one time Me'napus fared when he had been born by this earth. That is all. 69. THE BIRTH OF ME'NAPUS - FOURTH VERSION. (Kimewanl) A little old woman had two daughters. Then she said to her granddaughter, "Grandchild, don't ever turn round in this direction when you gather sticks." Then she always held it in mind. But then once she did turn in that direction. Then the wind came blowing that way. So then a spirit took that woman for its own. So, of course, after a time, the woman became ill. 1 Though brought up by a father devout in Menomini beliefs, Kimewan is a convert to the Peyote religion; the following, though probably containing archaic features, is therefore an unbeliever's account. 10* 148 I 4~4Publications, American Ethnological, Society Vol. XII niahdi'w, iniwi'n-pih sa~yd'h as-t&'t me~ncapufs; ini? sa~yeh s kAtd'w-pima'tesit yos ahlki'hih. ini? lkisd'MAneowWAn may~'nikut as lcAta'w-pima'tesit. naha'w,. ii? teh as3 ft't sa? ye'h me?na' pus, Uki'yAn inih um6't as ii'h-piAt. nal&&'w. i'nuh tdh uhs~'mehs~n tst,'hk-i~pc'wa?sen iniwi'n tdh md'2natsin. uki'ah85wawan. iniwi'n-pih teh 1kayjes-a'?tiya~pa'wad inih nipj'wv inih s8k6'tdw. wat6'w tdih kijs-a-'wiwin mnenapu's. luT'w inuh weyAwikehlco'hseh jnij'9 as mC6'k, )iaw~,md'tin ut&'nan, s ne'?natu?'a2 me~napu's ukci'Ahsowawan. naha'w.v, naw~'naw ini? teh sa~yeh misi'k wd.'pus ni? as a,'wit; ni? as yatsina'lkihit msi'k mamdi'tsi~taw; h&Wm ii'? teh as yatsina'kihit mamdi'tsir'?taw y(5m d'sina'kusit MAMa'tsi?taw. naha'W, iniwin-pih teh kay&s-md'tsiAt s8wd'pi?tAt s nAtondha'tsin 6'hnAn. kAn uind'hlkawanan. nabii'w. 5hkcumdi'hsAn iniwin-pih k3'tsimunli'tsin. hdi'w, ini? as w~'htAMAkut anuh 5hkumdi'hSAn: 'k-Af UWi'Askesinan k6'hne?; MAtsi'?-awct'tuk, 4'wiw k6'hne2.' 'nahd'w, nuhlc6'?, nd's lCAt wihtam5'wina?!' nahd'w, mni? as w~'htamlAkut 6'hlcumd'h8An: 'y6'win-nakah aift't lk8'hne?. kAn pAs kiwvi'hkihtunan s, a-ne,'?nat.' 'nahd'wt,, ninaw-i8s&'AM,' jwii'hin me?na'puts. ini? ume~tilk6'nem as usi'htuk. naha-'w, ini?-pih misi'k pime'h tsiw-awa't~k. ini'?-pih tdh as wd'pitsimdt, 6'hnAn as i'5 yAt. ha'W, ini's kd'?ts3ih sa?ydh as pt'Atdt, ini? as Ft'nawihesit kAtawv-pime' tsimet; ini? as sakfl'tslcihneh urne?lik'nern imi's nipi'hih. hd'w, inj9 as e'k inih pimj'h, pim,~'winah ume?tik'nem. hd'w, ini? teh as wi'hkcihesit as pimi'Psimet. ha'w,; mni? as pyA'tt anuh 6#'hnan. hd'w, ndiwd~'win nis as i'nit anuh 6'hnan. ini? as ndkatawd'nihtah ta? kd'taw-ise'?tAt me'?napus,, kAtaw-ne'?natsin &'hnAn. nah&'w ini'? as ma,'tsiAt me?na'pus, ispJ'?tAt; p~~wd'wand'skun teh a'wiwin me'?napus -s isi'At anuh 6'hnan. nahd'w, anuh 6'hnAn in~iwi'n as i'nit, iniwin as sehk~hsinenik. ini? s 1c'we?sit me'?napus. ini?-pih tah nd'tumi'lkut: 'pye'nun. me?napu's,, nik~i'h!' iku'ah. ha'w, irti'?-pih teh a'SiAt. 'nahq'w, kAn pAs kinii'?sinan! ntiha'w,. y6' teh nitei'?silan 6'nun.' ilku'ahin. pj'?simike-a'?sikcan d'wiw. hda'w, iniwin tek a'y~lk me'?napus ne?,na'tsin 6'hnAn; 1c-s-ki'skikiyawesi'win. nahai'w, ini9 teh s IcWwdt. 'naha'w, nuhlk6'9, sa?ye'h nik.js-awjh-ne'?naw MfAtM?-awdt'tulk kinah 'n.At.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 149 Then Me'napus came into being; now was the time when he was to live here on earth. God gave him this, that he was to live. So now Me'napus came into being, coming forth from his mother's womb. But that younger brother of his, the spirit-rock then killed their mother. Then the fire was put out by the flush of that water. Me'napus was in the form of a ball. Then the little old woman wept, mourning her daughter, when Me'napus and the others had killed their mother. But then, again, after a while, he became a rabbit; he changed his outward form and again became human; so now he changed his form into that of a mortal man, a mortal man of this same outward form of ours. Thereupon he set out and began seeking his father. He did not find him. Then he questioned his grandmother. This is what his grandmother told him: "He is not a good creature, your father." " Oh, Grandmother, please tell me about him!" Then this is what his grandmother told him: "Over in this direction, they say, dwells your father. You cannot possibly kill him." "Very well, I shall go there," said Me'napus. Then he built his dug-out canoe. Then also he took some grease with him. Then he set out paddling, to go to his father. Now, when he had got quite near the place, he was unable to make his boat go; his dug-out hung as if glued fast there in the water. That was when he used that grease, greasing his dug-out. So now he was able to paddle on1. Then he reached his father. He saw where his father was. Then Me'napus took thought as to what he should do to kill his father. Off went Me'napus, up into the air; Me'napus turned into plantdown to go to his father. There was his father; there he lay extended. Then Me'napus drifted around in the breeze. Then the other called him: "Come hither, Me'napus, my son," he said to him. Then he went there. "Why, you cannot kill me this way! Here, use my knife!" he told him. It was a chinaware knife. This, then, Me'napus used to kill his father; he severed his throat with the knife. Then he returned home. "There, Grandmother, I've gone and killed him whom you called an evil spirit." 1 Pun or rationalization: the word "grease" resembles the first two syllables of the word "paddle on". 150 150Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI! hM'w, ini'? ldih; heiw, misi'lk niw k5'tsimun~z'tsin nuh 6'hlumd'hSAn: 'ta'? teh as i't inuh nehksj'h? wvi'nah ap nikdi'tauw-aw~h-ne'2naw.' 'nuhsi'h, me~nap a,'s,, icAn pas kitjd'h-ne~na'nan lkehs~h.' 'kA'n; nina-wMh-ne'?na iceh ni'w,' jTwa'hin. 's nd'wahlkil ume'?-nalkah ayi't kehst~h.' nalui'w, iniwi'n-pih mayatsi'At me'?napus. ma'ts-mAskota'w ihpih payi'Atdt, iniwin teh ndnd'wi y~w as i't inuh tsjhkcApd'wa~sen. nahd'w, ini' 2 kek8 5piAtcd't me'?napuw8. Cnakd'w, ini'? keh s Pis-ne~ni'nan! -kine'? lkay's-ne?nAt lciki'ahin.' hd'w, iniwi'n-pih teh payd'pAkamdi'tsin ani'nuh tsihkApei'wa?seniAn. iniwin tdh niw ayi'nikenit nuk, ts'hkcAp4i'wa~sen. hd'w, iniwi'npih tah sdi'?siwd'pina'tsin. 'nahd'w, ts.~hkApei'wa?sen kina-kiw-ik6'k kis~hsina'WAk!' hd'w, ini'?-pih ldih s Md't.siAt me'?napus s 1kj'wdt. nahd'w, ini'? s wihtam~wdi'tsin misi'k 6hkumd'hSAn. ini'? mnis ma-'waw) ask& Ike'si?tAt. nahd'w, ini2-pih misi'Ic k~5tsimunii'tsin anuh 5hkumd'hs3An: 'ta'? teh y~m 8k6'tdw kAn kdi'k~h as d'wik?' 'nuhsi'h, kiki'ah ini's s kj's-ne~nik, ini2 s kjes-d'?tiyapd'wdkc inih sk5'tdw.' nahdl'w, me' 2napus ini? dnd'tsin 6hkumdi'hSAn: 'nahd'w, nuhk6'2, nina-nd'tin inih sk5'tdw.' nah&'w, mni? as mf'tsiAt me~napu,'s. nahdt'w,. iniwi'n-pih teh akd'miah ini? d's yAt; ini? as i'tua? akuh mAma'tsi?ksww~c. hd'w. ini?-pih s nii'lAtawa'nihtah ta? kd'taw-ise'?tAt me'?napus, mnis s tdw-aw~h-lkem5'tit sk6'tdw. nahd'w, misi iniwi'n-pih uwi'pus ayii'wit me '?napu~s, wdpuws65'hseh as d'wit. nuh mitd'muh iniwi'n-pih nayd'tik nipj'w. ha'w, iniwin-pih, nuh wdpus6'hseh, inis ni'w neydiwa'tsin; imiwin teh as misdnii'tsin; iniwin teh s awdnd'tsin. CwCpus6'hseh mni? as nd'WAk, ini's inik nipj'w as n&'tan, as awjhnd'WAk2' ind'w uki'an; 'nitd,'htanum k.Atdw-d'wiw.' hd'w, iniwi'n misik teh as niikAtawd'nihtah me'?napus ta? kd'tawisj'?tat, inih sk6'tdw ktdw-awcd't6Ik, s kAtdW-kim6'tit. ha'w, mni? as kehkjT'nah Idi'taw-.isj'?tAt. skc6'tdw s kAto2'w-kim5'tit. mdik —titasi'AhkAwa'tsin, nuh wapus65'hseh, I'Wm iniwin-pih nayjpuwj'pahtuk wdpus65'hseh, mahkdi'htAt kahkd'hna?tew sk6'tdw. hd'w iniwin-pih tdh wd'simit, inuh mitd'muhsj'hseh nan6'nipund'tsin. iniwin tek s kasc'w~dt me'?napus,; ini? teh s awd't~k inih sk6'tdw,. h&'w, imi? 5 pi'Atdt wZ'k~wa?. Cnuhk6'?, niPi'tn sk6'tdw; mni'? keh s tdw-pimd'tesiyah!' nahii'w, ini? s p6'tawet. hudw, ini? kek s aya-'wasitua? as p6'tawet. hd'w, ini? teh inuh w~yAwjkehk5'hseh ini? as nAnd'kAtawd'nihtah: 'ta? ayu'm kd'taw,-is0'?tAt ayum me?na'pus? kAn kAna'pats una-ni-p5'ni?tAnan.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 151 So much for that; and now he again questioned his grandmother: "Where is that younger brother of mine? I want to go kill him too." "Me'napus, my grandchild, you cannot go kill your younger brother." "No, I will go and kill him, no fear," said he. "Over there, toward the south is your younger brother." So then Me'napus set out. He came to a great prairie; in the middle of it was the spirit-rock. So now Me'napus came there. "Here, I've come to kill you! It was you killed our mother." With that he started, to pound that spirit-rock. As big as this was the spirit-rock. Then he scattered the pieces of it. "Now then, 'spirit-rock' our uncles will call you." Then Me'napus went from there and returned home. He again told his grandmother about it. Now he had accomplished this thing too. Then he again questioned his grandmother: "Why is there none of this fire?" "Grandson, when you children killed your mother, that fire was put out by the flow." Then Me'napus said to his grandmother: "Well now, Grandmother, I shall go fetch that fire." So off went Me'napus. This time he went across the water; that is where those people were. Then Me'napus took thought what he should do to go steal the fire. Then Me'napus turned into a rabbit, a tiny rabbit. At that time the woman was fetching water. Then, this rabbit, right there she saw it; she caught it in her hand; she took it with her. "I came across a little rabbit; when I was fetching water, there I came across it," she told her mother; "He shall be my pet." Then Me'napus again considered what he would do to carry off that fire which he wanted to steal. While she was playing with him, that rabbit suddenly jumped up and ran, seizing a brand of fire. Then he fled, the young woman trying in vain to seize him. Me'napus got away from them; he carried off the fire. So then he reached home. "Grandmother, I am bringing fire; now we can really live!" So now she built up her fire. Now they at last could warm themselves, when she built up the fire. Then that little old woman kept pondering: "What-is he going to do. this Me'napus? I suppose he will never stop his goings-on." I 2Publications. American Ethnological Society Foi. XII ini2 di's-1kehkkini'kut ikAn -s kAtduw-wi'Askesit, WAnena'wisit. ini2 teh as wd'pi~tat md'wa niw kd.'/c~h s lces-piR-pAna'ts8i?tA-t, kisaMAnpeoWWAn, nilkuh inuh kisdMAnet6'w kayj8-utse',`ktvZ'L min'u' niw as lces-ptlkunam5'wAtsin. ini'? teh d'ts mne'?napus: 'nine'2-8ah niw IkuhkC'w d'siki yen!' inij2 iits mne'2napus, wvina'h ni, mnd'iva ni. m&'wa ni kd'lk~h s us~'htukc, s p~'k'unam5'watsin kisdmnAnet6WAn nikuh k-ay.js-uw'htukc. hd'w, ini'?-nilcuh aya.'tsirnAk:- kAni'v unisi'k J)i'yen, ninawa-te~n5'hkemn uma'nakah. 70. ME'NA PUS A VENGES HIS SON. (Jerome Lawe) ta"?, me~napu's lcdh uki'2sAn k#~s-td'wanin mahwd'wan. hd'ta?.. Wki'cita'win; ahpd'n tsi-Iciw-ma'ts3iAt as ki-pahp*~'sit. min's teA kutd'2nas yom piiti' h/cit isis-lkd'2ts-wdna~te'wiwin. nakhd'w, ta?,, pdp~n6'wik Ct'wiwin; ta?, &'n~w Icehpii'katenin, inih mehku'Am as pd'Ikateh. iniwi'n tdh d'sis-dyadku'AMimatsin ani 'nuh u/ki'9sMn me'?na'pvus: 'p6n nik6'tuh miyd' niw pis-kahlC1'mipli'htuh y6m wld'na~tew!' nikc~d's teh niw. - wj'Ikiw tsiw-a-'wiw, - mahwd'w as papei'mpahpjT'8it ini's tipd'h, nd'hkah as lkAt&'-pis-kj'wdt, - sa?ye'h 8aka'nah ni'win 1cWs6. - iniwi'n tdh sa?yd'h as td'?takatd'nilhtah as spaw Iki'A?tip5'htulk. CdA ' ind'nihtA'min, 'mind'? teh nik~'hki~tAm,, in',? niw awv-i'si8 -wihkcihes~'yen!' ini',nihtAmin. iniwin-pih sa?yd'h nitsi'Akah as mnis&Ikd'pahtuk. salka'nah md'sAket, iniwi'n-poih sa?yd'h pay~hp(3'hluskAt inuh mehlku'Am, as tsiwltdh-md'tsitsi'wah. iniwvi'n kdh, ta?, as tahpd'ndt mahwd'wi. hwA. menp' -s'matin d's-kaskd'nihtah as tsi-kdi'2ts-md'm~k ukqi'?sAn as naw~mdi'tsin. UMA's as tsi-ki-kd'?ts-ihkUAti'mit iiw niw kiw-ind'hkAk y~m ahkeRW. ta'?, sd'kisiwvA'kin kaki'hkih is~'Iawd'tukAlk. Its~A h, mW'nehkun me?napu's3 uki'?sAn! kd'lk~h kinaw-iIhpd'nanikunaw y6m. as isg'2ta ye/c as mAmu'awd/c u/k'sAn!' nahei'w, ini'win-fpihi i'n~w sa?yd'/i tsi-y&'h-pyAt mahwd'w. 'nuhnd'?, p6n m6'nun; niy&,'h-piAm sa?yd'h!' ini'win-pih /cahkcd'hna~tew mayendi'sin ani'nuh u/c~'sAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 153 Thus she knew that he would not be a good person, but silly and mischievous. And thus it was that he began to come and ruin all things, breaking for God all things, as many as God had created. And this is what Me'napus says: "It's I who am better than all." That is what Me'napus says, that he forsooth made all things, when really he but breaks up what God has created1. Well, so much I have told of him. Some other time, when you come again, I shall go on with the tale. 70. ME'NAPUS AVENGES HIS SON2. (Jerome Lawe) Now, Me'napus, had a son, a wolf. He was a fast runner; he was always going off to hunt. Now, in a place there, Green Bay, as it still does, formed a great estuary. Well then, it was in winter. To be sure, it was thickly frozen over with a solid sheet of ice; nevertheless, Me'napus thus warned his son: "Do not ever make a short cut by running home straight across this bay." But then at one time, - it seems that it just had to be, - as the wolf was hunting right opposite, in the evening, when he was about to come, - the sun had almost set, - then he thought with reluctance of running all the way round. "Why," he thought, "I can rely on my fleetness; I shall be able to do it well enough," he thought. So then, in spite of the prohibition, he must have tried to run across. When he had nearly crossed, the ice broke up into moving blocks, and the waters began to eddy. And there, then, the wolf perished. Alas, very great was Me'napus' grief; he kept wailing loudly as he mourned his son. Whenever he sobbed hard, even then would this earth shake. Then the spirits of all kinds were frightened. "Fie, give Me'napus his son! He will do some harm to us because you have done this deed of taking his son from him." So then, to be sure, the wolf came back. "Father, do not weep; now I am coming back." "No, my son!" said Me'napus; "by this time I have overwept." With that, he gave his son a burning brand from the fire. The Menomini of old religion who were present listened to this with perfect courtesy. 2 This story is the introduction to the story of the Mitawin; see Alanson B. Skinner, Medicine Ceremony of the Menomini, Iowa, and Wahpeton Dakota. Indian Notes and Monographs, Vol. IV. New York, Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation, 1920. 1 5 4 1 ~4Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'naMd'w, y~m ini'm-awd't~h; mdtsi'ah niw; tsiyc'w uma'nakah as ni'lc inakah iSYA'nUn; awe'h-papo'tawinu- n. ii?-nalkah awindi'hunetit pamdi'tesit kahpih nd'pilcin.' ta2, iniwi'n kdih lka ys-ini's-is~'kik. iniwi'n-pih tdh sa~yd'h me'2napus8 naya'lkAtawd'nihtah 1k4'tawi5C'2tAt, as kAtdi'w-ne~nA'ts3in ani'nuh u/Ct'25Af kay&s-ne~tu,'Akut. &'n~w mi'n niw as ts3iw-kAti'w-nj'pa~tuah uki'9s8An, ma wa niw Wi'yAn isW'kiAn k~8-asind'win. nahii'w, nik~kt's as Cl'wik-, mamCIh-aw6'tukAk sa~yd'h unii'2suta'mukin as aw-kti~ts-pdkahati'tua2 weAyAk i8e'kiwAk. ta'2, kd'2tin iniwi'n-pih sa~ydi'h payii'kahatih. irni's tdh Ma'tS-WAt8Z'w taku'ahin; ini's talh wahk~d'hkiah ini'win as sehki'hsihkva2 aki'kuh mamd'hawad'tu~kAk, as tsiw-w&'pituaa. us&'matin ds-kaki'hki~tatua2 pdkaha6wWAk. nak6'tih wvi'nah ap se yRP pits dyi~'2sawd'hkawin. nalhd'w. me~na' pus ini'win sa~yd~'h tsi-kAtii'w-nataT'w-ne~na'tsin ani'nuh awd'tukAn. ini'wvin-pih sa~yd'h tsi-nawd'niihi'tsin. ~i~ta2, k62tsik&'s~w me~na'pus; kute' niw,,, ahpd'n is3i's3-tsihtsW'nisiwAk as k-ft2na'twa2 me~na'pus8un. tsj'k- mis payi'Atat, iniwi'n as wand' - pumihit; mahkii'hs3iwd'hnAk tdh j?'wiwin ini's3 as awj'h-tsZ'Patsih tsej'k. nah&'w. ta? nayd'mih inih ini's as ts'patek, tsj'pi~ta'wakcin.,sAh, si~h, ta2, j'l-inih kapa'? mnis tsipate'WAn! me?na'pus tsiwii'wiw-eh! nahJt'w, awd'hsAk kAt awj'h-kiilki'8kipvtd'WAk!' kd'2tin ta2 isi'WAlkin AWa'hsAk-, as aw~'h-kiidk'skiputfZ'ku~a2. ETA, me~napu's sakanii'h niw as tsi-kiw-dn5'ts8ipunih. iniwi'n-pih payf'Yni~tAtua2. 'dt? me~ti'k wehd'h niw a9'wiw!' 'nah&t'w, kinit'pik tdh kAts pima-'hkuharn,' ita'nin. taPl, kiid'2tin kinii'pik pimd'hkuhamin. ~,me'2napus sakana'h niw as tsi-kiw-waw&'nAnamit, wj'ki ldih pipi'm-p,6'ni~ta,'WAkin. '&A, me~ti'k wehdi'h niw Cz'wiw,' ~wa'kin as tsiw-ini'M-miitSYA'tua2. 'nahd'w,'I indi'niht~min me~na'pus, 'tii'nituk aw-ise'2AyAfl as aw-aw~'h-ke~te'naWAk i'h-inuh kii'taw-ne~nAk? nah&'w, IuIp'WAnii'skin ninaw-&'wim!' iniwin-pih sa~yd'h tsiw-ispd'2sit, as k,.-'wesit ii's. tsj'k teh iniwi'n as awj'h-pd'wihsih. nahat'w, mni's tiih y6'h, s6h niw pd'ts niw umd'OtikWAn kayjs-nd'pa2td'hsima'tsin, s6'h niw pii'ts niw pimi'win. pa-'hpisiw iniwi'n niw ds-tsi'Ahki~tAt ini'h wAtsj'w. cU me~na' pus ne'2new kit6'kima'minawan!' ita'nin. iniwi'n-pih sa~ydh tsi-nawd'ts-pimj'nisihuh. nahd'w, iniwi'n kdh as tsiw-kAtd'w-natii'w-pimi'tsihih inuh awdi'tuk. mnenapit's winah as md'k-piipim6'hnet, kAni'win ldih s~pej'w inimmatiipi'ahnet; ukd'skimA'ni2 siwas apj,'win. 'ta'2 tih U'MAs d'si~ta'yAn?' ind'win me~na'pus. 'nii'sa Idi'h mi' nap y&'2 as ahk~ndi'htaWAn me~napu's uki'2SAn un&1kishseh as aw-pimi'puki'makah.' me~na'pus iniwi'n niw as pan~'eIpe'punatsin; wd'htsitaw siw inim-uhp~'tehpewAnin, tsiw-ihp~nii'tsin mj2napu'Ifs. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 155 "Take this with you now, as you go; go your ways; go, since it must be, toward the sunset; go, and there kindle fires. Thither shall mortals travel, one after the other, when they die." And so it accordingly there happened. But now M1e'napus took thought what he should do to kill those who had slain his son. Although they tried also to give him a substitute for his son, he refused every kind of living creature. Now, there came a time when all the greater spirits planned a big lacrosse game for all kinds of animals. Then this lacrosse game was held. Over yonder was a large hill; there, on top of it lay the greater spirits, looking on. Exceeding was the fleetness of the players. The sunfish, too, was there, darting now this way, now that, forwards, backwards, and to either side. Now was when Me'napus was going to try to kill those spirits. He crept up to where they were. Me'napus was feared by all; they were constantly tense and uneasy in their fear of Me'napus. When he came near to that place, he disguised his appearance; he turned into a charred stump and took his stand close by. Then this thing was seen standing upright there, and they jumped in alarm. "Look out! That thing wasn't standing there before, was it? It might be Me'napus! Come, let some bears go claw it!" Some bears accordingly went and clawed it. Oh, just as Me'napus was near to giving up under the rough handling, they ceased. "Why, it is really a tree!" "Come, let a serpent twist round it," was said. Accordingly a serpent constricted it. Oh, just as Me'napus was near to being entirely strangled, they did after all leave off. "04, it really is a tree," they said, going away from there. "Now then," thought Me'napus, "I wonder how I shal manage to go get a close shot at the creature I want to kill? Very well, I shall be a piece of plant-down." Then he was carried aloft by the wind and drifted about there. Close by there he settled from the air. There, then, having carefully adjusted his bow, with careful aim he shot at him. At once he gave a kick and rolled off the hill. "Hey, Me'napus is killing our chief!" was the cry. Then, first of all, they chased him a ways. Then, of course, they set about trying to save that spirit-being's life. But Me'napus, as he was walking on, in time came down to a river; there sat a kingbird. "What are you doing here?" Me'napus asked it. "Oh, I am only watching here for a piece of Me'napus' son's entrails to come floating by." At that, Me'napus' hand slipped as he snatched for the creature's head; truly, its head was all mussed, as it went off, from the way Me'napus had snatched it. Ifi Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI 'Imm' a'nu kdi'h ini'2 niw a'hpdit aw-inim-is~nd'1kus'iyan, ahki'w aw-d'ts-talkik!' inei'win. ta'2, misi'kcsayci'h tsi-md'tsiAt, s md?'Ik-niw-pdipim6'hnet, kAni/wi&n niw wj' yAwelkehko'hseh, payi'tahamii'st; k4i'k~h pi8-nay6'htAmin. 'd' nuhk6'2,' inei'win me~na'pus, 'wviki'2 tek i'nih ndyo'htAMAn?',Awi'kUpiAn, nu s'h, az'wiWAn.' C'5A, ind'win,. 'ta'2) tdh, nuhkc3'2, lki-to'tAMAn?' jAnusi'k, me~na' pus8k8-piMi'w awd'tukAn.: ii'? teh as kAta'wnAto'pihlcAnA/c,' ~wd&'hin inukhWj'yAWekeh. si nawe na/w ihpih, 'hYii'h, Mct'napusu'h nitind'tdn Ik liw-iuii'hin inuh wg'yAwjkeh. 'nimdi'2, nwhlk6'2. y6't pAs dnei'pumih, me~napu,'s a'WtyAn?' ind'win. 'ti'2 teh, nuhic ci'?. liw-indi'hAMAsi'yAn mi's as ki-nan&'taWl'tsilce'yAn?' inci'win. ta'?, ini'win-pih nct'IAmit inuh wi~'yAw~keh. kay~'s-mdi'wawvpdt8-1di'kut~simu'natsin, iniwi'n-pih payd'p,-ka'skita'hpahatsin. iniwi'n-pih tdh pci'2sahatsin. nahd'w, iniwi'n-pih po'?8ehlcawd'tsin, 8a?y&'h as tsiw-nayii'hit ani'nuh wZ'kupiAn. iniwi'n as i'nim-ndiwd'tsin, pd.'hnihsAk as iiiiAnd'tsi?t,,tua; msik, lkute'2nAS '&niM-is' Win. 'nyd', nuhsi'h, nikiw-pipi'm-yd'hpit-s-WAndti'mim, as Ias-pimci'h kitdwd'tukiminaw,' jwd'hin. iniwi'n-pih sa?ytd'h tsi-piAta't inih 'w~'IcwAm, inis as -i't inuh ndnd'tawjhih. dy~'uh slku'Ahtemih iniwvi'n as api't'us? mamiihtd'hteWAk. ~yfih, yil'h. yft'h, manapusift'h nitind'tOn!' kiw-jwdi'kin aki'lkuh tUi'hte~wAk. 's't sinawd'2 niw! ukjmd-w~'nin lcinaw-m-u,'awdw.' indi'win. ta"2, iniwi'n niw sinawdi'? niw ds-i'tua2 alki'Iuh tdi'htewAk; iniwin tdh nisik kiw-itd'hkua2 si ndnawej'naw ihpih: 'uk~md-w9'nin kinamci'naw!' iniwi'n-pih misi'k kiniipik6c'hseh tsiw-anci'nih as aw-aw~'h-nawdsa'pahtsildit. me?napu's winah s mdik-niuw-tas~' kit. kAni'wifl niw kinii'pilk5'hseh pms-sd'ki?tAt. misi'k ani'nuh, 's't, sinawd'? niw! kina-mam~'mdpi'nin!' ind'win. ntah&'w, iniwin wci'h teh inuh ta'htew as kiw-pim~'wik6'htakah, wvinah ap inuh kinidpik5'hseh as kiw-wdi'?sehku'sit. me,?napu's8winah kay&s-tu'pi&nah inih wZ'p, iniwi'n-pih kayd'hta'hkunahk. wdi'htsitaw si sci'ski?tawin inuh maydk~-nandl'awvihih. 'awdi'? ts~kiw!' ind'win me~napu,'8. 'Ojibwa, says informant. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 157 "Hm, at any rate, this is the way you shall always continue to look, as long as the earth shall endure!" he told it. When he again went on and was tramping along, there a little old woman came singing; she came with something on her back. "Why, Grandmother," Me'napus asked her, "what is that you are carrying on your back?" "Dear me, my grandchild, it is linden-bark." "Oh yes," he said to her; "What do you do with it, Grandmother?" "Dear me, my grandchild, Me'napus has shot a spirit-being; and it's with this I am going to doctor him," said the old woman. But then every little while, "Gracious me, 1 think it's Me'napus!" the old woman kept saying. "Why, Grandmother, would Me'napus be looking at you like this, if I were he?" he told her. "What kind of song, Grandmother, do you sing, when you do your doctoring?" he asked her. Then the old woman sang. When he had carefully questioned her on all points, he dealt her a few hard blows on the head. Then he flayed her. Then he dressed himself in her skin and took the lindenbark on his back. Then he saw on the way some boys playing; he was going from one place to another. "Hey, Granny, you've lost your way!" he was told. "Goodness me, child, I do nothing but stray around and get lost, with crying because our spirit-being has been shot," he said. Then he came to the lodge where he was, who was being doctored. At both sides of the door sat huge bull-frogs. "Hoo, hoo, hoo, Me'napus I think it is!" those bull-frogs kept saying. "Hush, be still! You shall eat the chief's fat," he told them. Thereupon those bull-frogs stayed quiet; only that they kept saying at intervals: "The chief's fat we shall eat!" Then the little garter-snake was ordered to go and reconnoitre. While Me'napus was engaged there, suddenly the garter-snake peeped forth. To it also, "Hush, be still! I will grease the whole length of you!" he said. Now,'that is the reason why the bull-frog is greasy at the throat, and why the little garter-snake, too, is shiny all over its body. But as for Me'napus, he took hold of that arrow and jammed it way in. Truly, that creature that was being doctored, just stiffened out flat. "What are you, anyway!" Me'napus said to it. I?.8 a 15$Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] iniwin-pih p6"2sahatsin. iniwi'n-pih tdh, kay~s-nayd'hit, inihpihsaf?ya'h. tsiw-usi'mit. nahud'w, iniwin-pih sa? ye'h tsi-pime'nisihoh. IN ta?, me~na'pu8 tsiw-usi'rnit, sa~yeh way~sa'huh, iniwi'n-pih me,?nalcu'ahlkun ini'm-ndiwd't-sin. iniwi'n-pih sa~yd'h me~na'lcuah tsi-wtipe'nehkasit; ta'2, me?na'pus ini'win niw uti'h. uma'win-pih niw kiw-p~'tsis8ikAna'?tAt me'2nalkuah. 'nima'?, MAtsi'?-mitseh!' kiw-in4'win me~naput's. 4ta"? d"yin~, me~na'pus?' kiw-iwdi'hin me~na'kuah. 'kA'n, nuhk6'2! "wdw~pd'nehkci'nun!" kitd'nin.' iniwi'n lkdh as ks-IAs~w~it me~na' pus. 71.NME'NAPUS CURSES THE GODS (1kiswAt5'hseh) umd'2 O's me'2napU8: 'nahd'w, mii'wa niw nilea'taw-ne'2nawakl awd'tulkAl, ni'winuh spi'ktaw6'hsihkcua2 awdi'tukAk.' nah&'w, me'%'zapUs ii? d'ts: 'muhtsi'm ni'nah d'hpinA'situa2, nahud'w, mdi'wa niw nina-kitsjwa'pinaWAlk awa'tulkAl, muhtsim ni'nah a1&pina'8itua2, mamdi'tua2 ni'matAn. naMd'w, mii'wa niw ninaIkitsewa'pinawAk, lcAn nilk6'tuh 'awd'tulc' as9 awv-itdi'hcua'? mamd'tMi?tawAU.' ini? d't. nahii'w, ini'win-pih tsi-Mri'tsiAt, w~'matan as naw~mei'tsin. n~i'winuh as iI&1uAti'mit, iniwin-pih payi'At; ni-'winuh8 s k~uAti'mit, 8d'Ihkihsih misi le?tsilca'miah, misjwa' ni niw i&hlci'?tewin lke?tai'kAm, as m6'k me?na'pus, we'matAn as mahkdi'milcut awa'tukcAn. nahiiw iniwin uma 'nalcah is8pe'myah, as m6'k,. ini'?-nalcah tayii'?tana'pit as WNWAi~t Iks-cd/m-ped'pehnin k~'sik. 'nahd'w, y61? ni md' k*twip'nani nakuic; mi'wa niw kildi'taw-ne?ninine'muAw, muhtsi'm ninah d'hpinasg'ydk. nahd'w, akum nin~'kihjkuk nip.Z'w as a-Ikit'Apahui'hkua?, sa?yd'h kikdi'taw-mAmu'Anine'MUAW. naha'w, lcAn nilk6'tuh 'awd'tuk' as aw-gtei'hkua? nikii'taw.us39'htun y6'm ahkc~w.' k&,s-ne~hk6'8iWmre'2nqpu8. 72. TURTLE BRINGS RUIN UPON HIMSELF. (nehtsi'wihtulk) ha'w, nilk~ta's lkeh 1cj8-kdi'?ts-ndi'nito~wAkin MAnatowAk; icAnkawi'h i8Z'kiwvAk mii'wc niw kj8-mii'watsZ'hainukin as mn'nititua?. aydi'h mihkdi'ndih ini'win wi'nahA ap as i't; misi'lk me'?napus, iniwi'n 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 159 Then he flayed it. Then, making a bundle of it, he immediately took flight. Then he was pursued. As Me'napus fled, he was being close pressed by his pursuers, when he came upon a badger. "Grandmother, hide me!" he said to it; "I will give you a blanketrobe," he told it. Then the badger began to dig its hole; and Me'napus, of course, kept close behind. Right there in front of him were always the badger's hind quarters. "Dear me, what an ugly rump!" Me'napus kept saying to it. "What did you say, Me'napus?" "Never mind, Grandmother! 'Hurry and dig fast!' I said to you." And so that is how Me'napus made his escape. That is all. 71. ME'NAPUS CURSES THE GODS. (Kisewatohseh) This is what Me'napus said: "Now I shall kill all the gods, the gods of all four tiers." Then Me'napus said: "Who have done grief even to me, all of the gods I will fling forth, who have done grief even to me, taking away my brother1. Yes, all of them I shall fling forth, so that never shall mortal men say the word 'god'." He said that. Then he went from there, mourning his brother. When he had sobbed four times, he came there; when he had sobbed four times and lay there by the sea2, in every place did the sea dry up, when Me'napus wept, because the gods had robbed him of his brother. Then, as he wept, he faced upward, as he called out; the sky did nearly fall. "Now even thus I mean to deal with all of you; all of you I mean to slay, who have done grief even to me. That my elders may draw water, I shall now take it from you. So that they never say the word 'god', I shall arrange this earth." Angry was Me'napus. 72, TURTLE BRINGS RUIN UPON HIMSELF. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Once upon a time the animals3 held a great feast; all the different species had assembled and were feasting together. Turtle was there too; and Me'napus also was there, along with the others, at the 1 The wolf is variously nephew, son, and brother to Me'napus. 2 They were water-spirits who had taken the wolf. 3 The spirit-animals, in whose community this story takes place. 1 6'0 I ~U Publications, Americanb Ethnological Society Vol. XII wi'nah ap as wj'ts-it, nd~'nitih. nabii'w, ayii'h teh me'2napus We,'WAn kUs-nip5'nin. rnahu'w, ini'win tdih as mii'k-lcaskd'nihtah. 1h7A, md'itswe's; wj'ne~nan wdi'2naw lkinuApi'lcatunin, misi'k kawi'n usawavhc&'nan as uhpj'tehpet. up&'2s8ehkakanan mis3i'Ic yiihpi'ts pj'kuskcawanin as wi'ninalcwahlcin me'2napus8. h&'w, iniwi'n teh!, wi'nah ap na-wi'n pd~pim6'hnet ini's, ini'win s kd"2t8-wv'nina'kusit. d'ta2, j'h-aku tiih wli'nah MAndt6'WAk u~nd'8iWA'kin. ha', p6'2sehlcakanuwa'wan pi 'ninaku'ahlkin, W~'ne~nuwdi'wan misik pd'ts-sdwdi'hahkua?, wdsi'hitua2, itfl'5iWA'kifl MAntowWAk. mam&I'tsi~tawAlc ta2 wi'nua ap una'SiWAkin, kii'2ts-sas~dkd'tua2, upe3'2sehkakanuw&'wanm as we~'skiwa'hkin. hd'ta?, mihkcd'ndh wi'nah ap up6'28ehlcaka'nan wvd'htsita' niw waye'8kiwa'hkin as p62sd'hkah, nindwdt6'hSAn miniwd' niw aki'2 -tawarnin uti'hsih, misi'k upj' hsehlcaka'nih as aki'2takin uimdwit6'h8An. heiA2 UMA'8 s ki-pim6'hnet, wahtsita kdi'2tin ki-ydi'pits-8ina'wihnembu'min, 1cdkit~w'i'hmehkin ani'muh undi'nawet5'hseMA-1 mihkd'ndih. ha'ta2, ts~pata'wim mbi'n niw vts'patAkanan, ' —wdhtsita'w uni'8iWAninf, - mikd'mndh. h&'w, iniwi'n te. vwi n~ah. ap as w~ts-ntd'mih as ma'nitih. hWw, me'2mapus, manis&'mimalkusi'win, wv~mInbalusit; ndi'wiycsw iniwi'n Misi'k lkutii'2mas as ki-pim6'hnet. hi',. mihlcd'mdh wdihtsita'w iiwin as s~'hkanatsin me~mapu 'sun as we'ninakusinit, mihkdi'nih. 'hdI, wdi'htsita ldi'2tin nisg'hkanaw ~'h-ayum me'2napus as W6' - nina'kusit!' inad'nihtAmin mihkdi'ndh. hai'ta2, nik~tii's sa~ye'h iniwi'n-nakah pits-isi'Amit. miihkd'nah as ui'yapit. cih&', wi'htsita kd~'2tin nina-sei'kitswe'pinaw) ~'h-ayum mte'2mapu-s, kW`spim *Z'h-UMA8 ke~tsi'h pi'At!' irnd'nihtAmin mihkdt'n~th. hdPta2, ts~iw-a'yapit, me'2napus3, kttnd'hlcun as ap~'nit, hd', imiwi'nnalkah pit8-i'8iAt. sa~yd'h inis imiwi'm as pis3-pi'Atdt, ini's mihlkt'niih as tsiw-apO'. mihk4,'ndh mim-mi'pi~tawin, me~mapu'smmu ttipipund'tsin. hdAta9, 1cjs-tatd'hkes3iwim j'h-ayum mihk-d'miih; Wi'y~n tayd'pipund'ts8inin lki-MiAno'wihewim ahpd'n niw. iniwi'n tdh me~napu'sum as tdi'pipdmni'tsin uhki'kanih; ume'hpih imiwi'n as t4pipunii'tim; uihki'kamih tdi'pipund'wim mihkd'nd~h. 'hd'w, me~napu,'s, And'hsa'num j,'h-UrnA8! kik4"?ts9-s3'hka'nin! Ikiw~'nihaWAc ima'niWAk ~'h-UMMs as mud'watseZ'h.3ihkua?, mni'wim as ki-pmi'm-W~wikapuwj'yem; kiwj'mihaWAk ima'niWAk: Arnd'hsdnu'n, kitd'mim! mditsi'ah!' imnd'wim as ka'htswdpima'tsim. 5hwd'h, me~ma' pus, wd'?ma'w imiwi'n kAmi'w as wi'hkihtuk as nwkdAhli'skah, ts3iw-ahpi'htsiwd'pimikut mihkdnma'hkwn. whil', ki'nah, '~napus wji'naw iniwi'n s pitd'2mamikc&'puwit.,hd'w, mihke'miih, kipd'panatsihi'nm! mik~tdI's di'wik lcinah a'p kimaw-wj'mima'1kusim!' ind'nihtAmim me'2napus. hli'ta2, iniwi!'n, 'p'fimiahkc6'hkum me'2napus; rndkc-wi'mah-ap-kAtdiwmli'nit~w!' it&'mim. 'hii'w, pye'num, me~mapu's; u.MA's pit8-apj'mum!' indi'win. hei'w, me'2napus ta? isi'et, awjh-d'yapit, wd'hts-ita ka"N2in mihlcd 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 161 feast. Now, Me'napus' wife had died. Hence he was grieving. He was big at the head; his hair hung in long strands, far down, and as he had not combed it, his head was all in a mess. Likewise, Me'napus' clothes were altogether ragged and dirty-looking. And so, when he walked about there, in their midst, he looked very dirty. The animals, in contrast, were beautiful. With their clothes looking clean, and their hair carefully combed, and their faces decked with paint, beautiful were the animals. And the humans also were beautiful, having dressed up in great finery, in their very best clothes. Turtle also had put on his very best clothing; little bells were fastened all over his leggings, and on his jacket, too, little bells were fastened. When he walked, truly, Turtle's little bells jingled with a clear sound at every step. Besides, he wore his upright headfeathers on his head, - they were really beautiful, - did Turtle. And now he was invited along with the others to the feast. Now, Me'napus was a fearsome sight, with his dirty looks, as he kept walking here and there in the midst of the assembly. Turtle was truly disgusted with Me'napus, because he looked so dirty. "I am positively disgusted with this Me'napus, he looks so filthy," thought Turtle. Then, after a while, he came toward where Turtle was sitting. "Really, I shall throw this Me'napus out, if he comes near here," thought Turtle. He sat there, and then Me'napus, look you, did come toward where Turtle was sitting. And now he had come to where Turtle sat. Turtle rose to his feet and seized hold of Me'napus. A strong man was Turtle; when he took hold of anyone, he always had easy play with him. And so now he took Me'napus by the collar; he held him at arm's length; by the scruff of his neck did Turtle seize him. "Now then, Me'napus, get out of here! You are disgusting to me! You are soiling the men who are assembling here, as you stand around among them; you are dirtying the people. Get out, I tell you. Be off!" he said to him and flung him with a shove of his arm. Poor Me'napus, it was a long ways before he landed on the ground, so hard had Turtle flung him. I tell you, it was a long ways off that Me'napus stood at last, facing the company. "That's all right, Turtle, I'll fix you! The time will come when you too will look dirty!" thought Me'napus. Then, "Leave Me'napus alone; he too wants to take part in the feast," it was said. "Come here, Me'napus; come sit over here!" he was told. Me'napus went there and sat down; truly, Turtle always looked 11 162 1(2Publications, American Ethnological Societ~y Vol. XII n&'hkrnn ahpei'n niw tsj'2napumi'kin, nehlc6sinalkut, Wehkanikut. dA ta2, me'2napus winah di'yapiwin. kaye-s-anih-nii'nitih. hd~'ta2, mamadtsi'wAkin MAnato'WAkCMAMa'tsi~taWAlc. kdkliwa'tua2. hc''ta2, me'2napUs wi'nah ap kHwd'win. zW'kih payi'Atat, hd'w, 'hd', ta? j'h-ayum. aw-ihpd'nanak u'~t'htsitaw as a-w~'ninakusit mihkdi'rndh?' ind,'nihtAmin me'2napus. 'uti'hsehs~n ta'WAnin nuhsi'2-nemun; md'ts-andmn a'wiwin, anuh uti'hseh8An. naMd'w, iniwi'n sa~ye'h8slcs-kesa'nihtah kdi'taw-ihpd'nanatsin mihkdini'hkun me'2napus. iniwi'n dind'tsin ani'nuh uti'hsehsAn, - Anamoh.3e'h8Akcwi'uah lceS-ta'WAlkin, unitsi'Anehsmn inuh nuhsi'2nem; kAs niwv i'nike'nukin alci'lkuh ndnu3'hSAkc; mitsi' ni kek niw kcc'?ts-no'niWAkcin aki'kuh ndm6'hSAk, me'2napw~ uti'hsehsAn. 'naha'w, nitihsdi'h, mahkii'hsihkwew kinaw-i'kdm. i'h-inis a tdpj/'pamina'lkwah ini's awv~'h-w&i'1inun. wi'kinikiin awt9'h-ustj'htuk. ini'? teh diwe-wj'kiyAn; j'h-akcum misi'k- linitsyA'nehsAlk nu'wa mtiw kina-kand'i'ihaWAk ini's s awejh-wiv'kiyek. ayii'h teh mihku'a~nap kinaw-usje'hdiw. ini's tdh nikc~td's- &'wik, ~'h-akum apdhni'hqAk kinamehkdi'kuk as a-wj'kiyen. nah~w, inis teh tahnd,'nuh ndi'hkahkin kina-kiw-pi'takuk apdhni'hsAk; kina-ki-teh-mZ'winisiha'WAk. he', ta'?, nimj'wah di'nuw kina-kj-kdkU'kitutawa'WAk aki'Icuh apdhni'h8AkCpayi~tfI'hkvuawin. nik~tdi's teh niw as aw-d'wlic, ini'? as a-ne5'htah mihkdi'ndh. nah&'w. inun'9 t~th a-m its3~'munat. pi'At, kinaw-pt'tAk imi's as a-ni p&'yan. hd'w, ini'? teh aw-i'rndt: "md'wa niw ki'sehkah ~'h-anum kip6'2sehkaka'nan; ~h-umA-s nandi'kuhtiah a?tu'h anu'm kip6'?sehkaka'nan," kinaw-e'ndw. hii'w, mdi'waw k&,-ki'sehkah, ini'?-pih lcAn-kawa.'h awv-ihpdi'nanat as a-kA~t'w-nipa'hat. h&'w, kj's-tdh-ni'pat mihkdi'nah, ni'2-pih ki'nah as s&'kit6'hneyan s a-pttskUwd'yan; aki'kuh teh kinitsi'Anehs8Ak- ini"?-pih aw-anii'natua2 as a-pei'hpinu'tahkua2 ani'nuh mihlkt'ndh up6'?sehkaka'nan. a-mti'tsita-,m~uk misi'k teh a-sikj tamuk, hJ'w, ini'h teh pehki'h misi'k ini'? aw-ahpii'kitii'hkua2, kAn-kawdi'h s aw-is-kdkdskipvutsike'tua? s aw~'nihtukua2 ani'nuh mihkdi'ndh up6'?sehkaka'nan- mni? aw-isej'?t~ayan,' ind'win me'?napus uti'hsehsAn. h&'w, nimdi'?, mited'muh iniwi'n-pih k6hkina'kusit; Wi'8kiw-mitAu'muh d'wiwin me'?napuw3 ut'h-sehSAn; ki?s*,'hseh niw a'w'iwin. wdi'htsita kdf'?tin ini'win as und'sit. hLd'w, mitd'muh iniwi'n sa?ya'h" asM'tsiAt as awjh-us.Z'htuk wZ'k; u~w&'kinikdn teh usvihtawin. kay&~-kW'ihtuk, ini'win-pih aniihki'htsiket inih wjYk; anii'hkyenan mis~wa niw a?ta'win, pi'htik pZ'na?tsikdt we'kih. hiiw iniwi'n-pih misi'k aninuh unUtsi'Anehsj'hsAn.i'sawak~m ini'wvin as pitii'kuhatsin u~nitsi'Aneh8An. hii'ta?. ins'win 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 168 at him with anger and disgust. But Me'napus remained sitting there. When the feast was over, the people and animals all departed going to their various homes. Me'napus, too, went home. When he reached his lodge, "Now! What shall I do to this Turtle to make him look really dirty?" thought Me'napus. He had a pet dog, a bitch; a big dog was this pet of his. So now Me'napus decided what he would do to Turtle. Then he said to his dog, - there were some little puppies too, the young of that bitch; all of a size were these puppies, and they were all still sucking, these puppies, Me'napus' dogs. "Now, my dog,l Fawn-Woman2 you will be called. Off there, as far as the eye can reach, there do you go and dwell. Go build a round-lodge. There you will go and live; and these young of yours you will bring up, there where you are to go and live. And a red sash you will make. And there, in time, the young lads will discover you where you dwell. Now then, every evening the lads will come to you there, but you will always drive them away. Yes, only a little while will you always talk with those young fellows, whenever they come to visit you. Then, in time, Turtle will hear of it. Now, him you will keep there. When he comes, he will come to where you sleep. Now, this is what you will say to him: 'Take off all your clothes; lay your clothes over here at the rear of the lodge,' you will tell him. When he has taken them all off, you will do everything possible to put him to sleep. Then, when Turtle has gone to sleep, you will go out of the lodge and come back home here, but you will order your youngsters to ruin Turtle's clothes. They are to befoul them and wet them. And besides, they are to throw ashes on them and in every way they are to claw and to dirty Turtle's clothes. That is what you will do," Me'napus told his dog. Thereupon, lo, its visible form was changed into that of awoman; a fine woman did Me'napus' dog become; a young girl she was. She was really beautiful. Then the woman went and built her lodge; she built a round-lodge for herself, as she had been directed. When she had completed it, she made the rugs and bedding for her house; she placed reed mats everywhere, making her house neat within. Then on the opposite side of the lodge she covered up her young. And 1 "My pet," - Menomini has a term of address to one's dog, parallel in a way, with human terms of address. 2 The name is foreign, and the first part of it is unintelligible, cf. the second version of this story, in Text 73; in the language from which the name is borrowed (Fox, Ojibwa?) it seems to have meant "Fawn-Woman". 11* 164 II f4Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pih teh mehku'a?napiAn Wdi'siha'tsin mifttmiuh,. ta'2. jnij'2 leh h hiskj'Si~tAt d8-an6'nilcut me~napu'sun. ni'hkah winah ak-um a~pdhni'hSAk ini'win as mehkd'hk'ua2 inih wej'kiwAmej'hsqeh. kayiwd'tua2 alki'lch pdihni'hsAkc,, payiAta'tua2 we'k~wa2, ini'win as wi'htam~w7I'tua2 pehni'hs3An. 'ha'w, mitd'muh nikjs-ndw5'naw; nahdi'?s niw li'wiw ini's as wdwj'k~it. pi'nah kAtS kit4'sia2! WAnitipd'hkah kinaw-awjh&-ndw5'naw s a-lckd'kitutawA'kih,' itOWAkifl aki'kuh ap&'hnihsAkC. nah'i'w, sa~ydh ts3i-mAdtsyA'tUa2 wdnitipd'hlcah, hd'ta2, payiAtd'tua2 inih wa'kiuwAn, wa?sd'hkune'win. kimi'pitua2, jA, mitdi'muh siwas apj'win, mehku,'a~nap*'hket. nimd'9, wkiktsita',w ini'win as 5ndi'8it mitd'mu~hsi'hseh! hdTAta2, alci'kuh pehni'h8Ak, 'ho'w, ninah nd'9)tAm kAts nita'wih1k&Io'kitutawaw!' e~wiihin niku,'t inuh apdhni'hseh. ta'2, ini'win sa~yeh s9 pi'htiket as isi'At. ani'nuh ki~se'h8An as apej'nit, ini'win s nim-und' pit apehni'hseh, kiiki'kitutawa'tsin kii'hsihkwa'WAfl. 1hdAta2, mahkftYhsihkwdi'w kdkj'kitutawe'wi"n ani'nuh pdhni'hsn. h&'w, kay&s-tdi'p-1cakj'kitutawa'tsin, 'hiiw, kAti's mdtsi'ah; sa~d'h nik&'ta-nipdm,' ejwi'hin mAIhkfI'hsihkwdiw. &', mtdtsi'win ta? inuh pdhni'hseh, mej'winisihu,'kut. hd'w, iniwi'n keh ni pa'Iqpis Misi'k nikut s pi'Ihtiket s aw~'h-wvi'nah-ap-kadkj'kitvutawa'ts3in. Md~ta?, ktdc~kitutawe'win misi'k ani'nuh. ta'?, kay9,q-anih-kdik'kitutawa'tsin MAhk-i'hsihkwaw, 'nahdw, kAtd'S mditsi'ah;', sa~eh nik&'ta-nipim I' hdi'ta2, inuh apdhni'hseh mdtsi'win. nim&A2, iniwi'n keh ni tipeth d'hkwah pdihni'hSAk ayi'suh as ki'kitutawa'tua mahkcii'hsihkwdi'wAn; kawin p6'ts undpii'nan mAhkii'hsihkwdw as pi'2tAkut ani'nuh apehni'hSAn. wayii'pah mii'wa niw kewdi'WAkin pehni'hSAk-. hdi'ta2. na'sik~smisi'lk ki'seh d'hkwah wiwj'kit mahkft'hsihkwaw, hji'u', misi'k wdnitip'h&lah, sa~ye'h mii'watsihit3i'wAkin apdhni'hsAk. WjC'yAk niw kAn-kawa'h isjh-MAndt5'WAk kjs-md'watsihit6'wAkin as wi'htama'titua2 ani'nuh mAhIkuhsihkw&VwAn ini's as w~'kicnit; misi'k tdh kAn ukd'hkcinawd'nuwa'wan ani'nukh awd'2 tsiw-&'wit mahkii'hs3ihkwdw. kAn Wi'yAk ukd'hkinawdi'nan. hi'. payiAta"'tua? apahni'haSAk, wa2si'hku~newin mahkii'hgsihkwdw wj'k. rnehku'a~napj'hket. 'ha'w!' mnd'win. ta'?, pi'htiket, awjh-und'piwin mahki4'hsihkwdiw utd'htanih, ta'?, ta'?, kakj'kitutawa'ts?'n apadhnI'SAn, kay&s-tetpd'nimit, iniwi'n-pih misi'k saydi'kitsind'sihatsin. 'h,'w, mdtsi'ah!' inii'win, 'sa~ye'h nikd'ta-nipam!' 6hw'i'h, apehni'hseh kawi'n umdini'nihtanan sd'kitsindi'sihu'ku~t MAhkit'hsihkwdi'wAn. hii'w, iniwi'n-pih keh misi'k niku't apehni'hseh tsi-pi'htiket, awjh-unii'pit MAhkii'Isihkwdw as a'pi~t. kiikZ'kit~tii'kvt apdihni'hSAn, h4'ta2, mt~hki'hsihkwdw kdke~kitutawe'win pdhni'hsAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 165 then the woman set about making a red sash. So now she had done as Me'napus had bidden her. In the evening the young men discovered that little house. When the young men went home, on reaching their dwellings, they told the other young men about it. "We have seen a woman; she is alone where she dwells. Do let us go there! Let us go there after dark and talk with her," those youths said to one another. So then, when they set out, after dark, why, when they reached that lodge, there was a light within. They peeped in; oh, there sat the woman, weaving a red sash. Lo and behold, really beautiful was the little woman! Then those lads, "Come, let me go first and talk to her," said one of them. "Very well!" he was told. So then the lad entered and went up to the young woman, where she sat, and there he sat down and talked to Fawn-Woman. FawnWoman conversed with the young man. When she had conversed with him long enough, "Now then, it is time for you to go; I want to sleep now," said Fawn-Woman. So the young man went away, since she had sent him off. But right afterward another one went into the lodge; he too was going to talk to her. She chatted with this one also. Then, when Fawn-Woman had had her talk with him, "Now then, it is time for you to go; I want to sleep now." The young man departed. So now, all night long did the young men by turns talk with Fawn-Woman; Fawn-Woman got no sleep at all, what with those young men coming in to visit her. In the morning all the lads went home. All the next day Fawn-Woman stayed there undisturbed, but when the next night had come, the young men all assembled. Every imaginable kind of animal assembled, for they had told one another that Fawn-Woman lived there; and they did not know who FawnWoman might be. Nobody knew her. When the young men arrived, Fawn-Woman's house was lighted within, and she was working at a red sash. "Now, let me be the first!" said one who had been inside before. "All right!" he was told. So he entered and sat down on Fawn-Woman's settee. She conversed with the young man, but when she had enough of it, again she sent him out. "There, be off!" she said to him; "I want to sleep now." Alas, the young man did not like it that Fawn-Woman sent him out. And then another lad entered the lodge and went and seated himself where Fawn-Woman was sitting. The lad chatted with Fawn-Woman, and so did she with him. But when their conver 166 l~36Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII misi'k wi'rnah ap may~'wine'sihuh. 'hd'w, lcAtd'8 matsi'ah; nilc&'ta-nipeim,' iwd'hin mAhkfi'hsihkwdiw. MdAW, pahni'hseh wdhtsita'w iniwi'n 3 Ikd'?t8-md'hnu,-kdkj'kitqttaei'hkwah keh apdhni'h8Ak ini'win di'naniihkcetua?, pi'htiketuca2, Ikdhi'Ikitutawa'tua mAkhuZ'hsihlkwd'WAn. he y, mdi'qaw) ni niw sehikanilkulin pdhni'h8Ak. WAyc'pah md'waw kjwdi'wAk-in. hdi'ta2, mAhlkii'hsihlkwdw i~nuh 'winah iniwi'n-pih ki-nii'nipat, kayj8-Md'waw-mdtiti'Anitsin apdihni'h8An. payiAtd'tua2 w9'k6wa2, kcdki'kititua2 apdihni'h8Ak: 'Md', t' d tsiw-isj'kih, ayum mitd'muh md'wca niw as s8j'hkcaninah? hM'w, mihlcd'niih aw~h-w.j'htam,5'hkcun; naw~ndJ'?8 wi'nah pas mini'nimik as a'w-w~'kimatsin,' jwd'1kin pehni'h8Alk. 'Md'w, kite'h-wjWhtam~w6'nauw,' iwa'Icin, Matsi'Atua2. payiAta,'ttua? mihkd'ndh as wE'kit, pi'htiketua2, Md'ta2, ay&'tsimitua2 pehni'hsk: UMA, mihkenii'h, tayeiAh, mitd'muh umd'2 as wij'kit; naMd'2s n~iw ii'wiw. IkAn nikd'hkinawdni'nawan awdi'ni2 ut&'nan tsiw-d'winit. Md'w, wdhtsita'w kd'2tin und/si'w inuh mitd'muhs~,'hseh. ini'2 ni'na2, s 'nawenihta'mah; Md'nuw md 'wa niw ni1c6'tsi~tami'naw a~s kAtd'w-mamdi'kih, yci'hpits nise'hlcanilkunaw. MA, nawindi'2s kina'h PA5 kimdni'nimik,' ina'wvin mihkdi'rdh.'Md'w, nnaw-isi'Am; nehkd'h kina-witti'Anine'MUAW,'` jwd'hin mihkdi'ndh. s3a~ye'h nd'hkah, wvi'nah md'wat,89hnit6wAlkin apdhn'h.sAk. 'Md'w, Md'ni2 teh mihkdi'ndh? Ikika'taw-wWtsVAkunaw,' 9wd'kin apdhni'h8Ak. Md'ta2, sa~yeh lkdh pitiwd'hsinin mihkdi'ndh. MdjA2, ts3i-k&s-sasd'kdt mihldi'ndh, nand'h-pAlcd't8! ta?, kehkcc'tesiw. pd~tsi/sihta2 p6'2sehkaka'nan, wayj's8kiwd'hkin up5'2sehka'kanan pa5s8i'hkah? nand'hpAlkd'ts, mihkdi'ndh tsi-1k9s-sasd'kiit, tsj'patakcdt min ni' ta? kin~'wwAna'niAn, nimd-'2, Utsd'm d'wiwin! pi8-tAlcild'puwit apdhn~'I8An, 'Md'w, ha?-na'lcah? ta? as d'uwil inuh mitd'muh tsi-wg'1kit? min? dsi'yen, apdhni'h8Ak; inuh mitd'muh nitd'wih-nd'wdw,' iwcd'hin mihlkd'neih. 'naMd'w, kAtd's!' IMdtsyA'tua2, payiAtdi'tua2, ta'?, kd'?tin w&2sd'hkune'win we'ki wAr wakini'kdin. lcimd''pit' mihkd'ndih, nimd'?, maw'i'h-pAkce't,8 d'wi win as 6nd'sit inuh mitd'muh. mihkdi'ndh iniwi'n utd'lcum y6'm is-8dsinawiwd'win, utii'kum tsiw-ahp6'ts-w.j'skiwah mihlcd'neih. mitd'muh dnd'pit ini's slku'ahtemih as kjmd'pit mihkld'wih, d', mitd'muh wdhtsita'w dydy5'8inawd'win mihkdnd'hkun. kawi'n tdh wi'nah Wi'yAn 1 Gesture: hand, palm out, is placed in front of face, just below level of eyes. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 167 sation was well under way, this one too, most disappointingly, was sent away. "Well, it is time for you to go; I want to sleep," said FawnWoman. Oh, just as the young man was at his very best, talking to her, alas, there you are! he too had to go. And so, all night long the young men carried on in that way, going into the lodge and conversing with Fawn-Woman. She rejected every one of the young men. In the morning they all went home. And as for Fawn-Woman, that was when she would sleep and sleep, after the young men had all gone away. When the lads reached home, they talked together: "Well, what manner of person may this woman be, since she rejects every one of us? Do tell Turtle about it; perhaps she will take a liking to him and marry him," said the young men. "Very well, let us go tell him about it," they said, and departed. When they came to where Turtle was dwelling, they entered the lodge and then the young men told their story: "Say, Turtle, just think, there is a woman lives over here; she is all alone. We do not know whose daughter she may be. Now, really and truly, that little woman is just beautiful! But we have given it up; though we have all tried to get her for our own, she won't have anything to do with us. Now, it may be that she will take a liking to you," Turtle was told. "All right, I'll go there; I'll go with you tonight," said Turtle, In the evening the lads gathered together. "Now then, where is Turtle? He intends to go with us," said the lads. And soon Turtle came jingling along. Oh, the way Turtle had adorned himself, he did make a splendid show of wealth. I should say he had heaps of clothes, of good clothes to put on! In splendid shape had Turtle decked himself, and he had put on a head-dress, too, of eagle plumes; oh, but he was glorious. He came and stood up close to the young men; "Now then, which way? Where is it that woman lives? I am going there, boys; I am going to see that woman," said Turtle. "Well, come on, it is time!" They set out; when they got there, there, indeed, was a house with a light in it, a round-lodge. Turtle peeped in; lo and behold, splendid was that woman in her beauty. Then did this blanket-robe of Turtle's jingle with many bells, so elegant was it. When the woman looked toward the door, where Turtle was peering in, oh, truly the woman kept smiling at Turtle. And she had not smiled at any of 168 16 ~ Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII UkciW-dy5'8in~aw&'nan inuh mita'muh ani'nuh apdhni'hsAn. hd'tu?, kii'ruw wi'nal& niw Iki-1ckek'kitutawe'win apdhni'hsAn. pdhni'hseh nilcu't nd'2tam pi'htikewin as awjh-k&1kj'kitutawa'tsin. 'awdi'2 aydi'wit inuh UMA'S pits-kjmd'pit?' ind'win ani'nuh apiihni'hsgAn. iwni'win ani'nuh apdhni'h8An mitd'muh. ha'ta2, pehni'hseh sd'kit5'hnewvin., mihldini'hkun as w*9htam6wdi'tsin. 'Iui'w, Ikinii't~mi'Ik,' ind'win piihni'hseh ani'nuh mi'hkdini'hkun. Iud'w', mihlkd'niih mi-pi'htikewin, a-si'SiAt ani'nu4 ki?2s9'hAn. d~ta2, mitd'muh iniwi'n-pih niw nayj'puwj'pahtulk as andhki'htsiket, lkAtaw-ni&pa-'tua2. Ikayg8-awdh~ihtsiket, 'nahii'w, kAtd.'s ki'2sehkach ani'nuh lkip6'2sehIkala'nan, kitii'kum, mJ'wa niw, kiti'hsAn, kimd'hkesi'nan. nandi' - kci'htiah imi's a~t6'h.' nimdi'2, mihkei'niih uma'hke8i'nan lki'2tswdpinah, Uti'hsn, upj'h8ehikalan, utd'lcum, md'wa niw utsj'patalkanan kayj8-ki'2sehkah. nanci'Iuhtiah ini'win as a'?tukl. 'hei'w, icAta's 8ehlkg'hsih,' ind'win mihldi'ndh. nimd'2, mihlcd'niih inim-Jkaw~wei'palci&owin s 3ehUa.'h~ih. wdi'pqtwiyan k-ayei'nit ini'win pd'mim-alki'hilcut. kiP89'hseh wvi'nah ap Ikayj8-kVi'sehlkah up6'28ehlcala'nan, iniwi'n as pimi'm-wMpima'tsin mihkeini'hlkun. hii ta2, mihlk4'niih iniwin s td'pinilkut, ki'8kilkini'Icut, Ti'yuts8imilkut, &Ata2, mihlkd'nah wj,'hpimi'kut ki?8j'h8An, m10'2,1 ta'9, as i'yutsimikut ta'? mihkd~'ndih, lcAn-lcawd'h as ihpd'nanilkut. lkitdipi'nin,' pahpAlka'hukut, 'lkitdpd'nin, kitdpd'nin, kitdpd'nin. a ta2, pahpalkahu,'Iut mihkdi'ndh, kAn-lkaw&t'h as3 ihpet'nani'kut, kdikd'8kenilcut mmn ni', ta, pdit3-Ikdd'8kinikut, kdkti'skinikut, Icadk'8kcinilkut, Ct'yutsimi'kut, dA, mihkdi'ruh nik~td's ini'win as ni'pat kay&s-sIi'hkihkwAmit mihlkd'ndh, mitd'muh ini'win-pih nayi'pi2 -tAt. sinawdi'2 niw ni'pi~tAt kiP89'hseh, urntsi'Anehs~n awgh-pa'hki — newin. 'nah&'w, ih-ani'nuh di'2tikin mihkd'niih up6'2sehkaka'nasn aw~hpa,'hpinutamu,'1un; miimj'tsitamukcun s a-8ikcg'tamikc; peIhIk~h, pehlcih, pehlci'h, kinaw-ahpii'kite'muAw; lcti'titepi~tamu'AW ini's mihiIdi'niuh upc3'2sehlcaka'nan s a-mi nd'tsi~taycdk,' niwnmt'u Unitti'Anehs~n. ta'2, alci'kuh Anamo'h8Ak iniwi'n-pih nayi'pi~tatua2 as avi we nihtulcua2 an~i'nuh, mihkac'ndh um3'?sqehlkaI.a'nan. ha,'w, iniwi'n-.pih teh wi'ncah kayg'wdt mitd'muh me'2napus w.j'kih; iniwin disi8 - 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 169 those young men. She had simply chatted with them; and that was all. "Oho, she is taking a fancy to me!" thought Turtle. One of the young men first went in and talked to her. "Who is that came and looked in here?" she asked the young man. "Why, that is Turtle," he told her. "Then go call him; I want him to come here. 'She asks you to come,' you will tell him," she said to the young man. The young man went outside and gave Turtle the message. "Well, she asks you to come," the young man told Turtle. So Turtle entered the lodge and went to the young woman. At once she sprang to her feet and prepared bed-mats for them to sleep. When she had laid the mats, "Now then, without delay, take off your clothes, your blanket-robe and all, your leggings, your moccasins. Place them at the rear of the lodge, over there." Oh my, Turtle flung off his moccasins, his leggings, his jacket, his robe, and, having taken off all his head-feathers, he laid it all at the rear of the lodge. "There, now lie down," Turtle was bidden. Oh, at once Turtle flung himself down and lay there. She gave him a different blanket, not his own, with which to cover himself. Then the young woman, having taken off her clothes, too, went and lay with Turtle. Oh, how she put her arms round Turtle and hugged him and kissed him again and again, that young woman, as she lay with Turtle, oh, how she kept kissing Turtle and doing all sorts of things to him! "Oh, Turtle, Turtle, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," and she kept patting him; "I love you, I love you, I love you!" Now, when she kept patting Turtle and doing all sorts of things to him and scratching him gently, - for she did that, too; she gently scratched and scratched and scratched him, - why, then at one time did Turtle fall asleep. As soon as Turtle was sound asleep, the woman rose to her feet. Very quietly the young woman rose to her feet and went over and uncovered her young ones. "Now then, go ruin Turtle's clothes that are lying right over there; befoul them all over and wet them; you will throw ashes and dust, ashes and dust on them; you will keep rolling around and playing about there on Turtle's clothes," the woman told her young. Then those puppies got up and went and dirtied Turtle's clothes. The woman thereupon went home to Me'napus' house; she went straight back home. When those puppies had dirtied all of Turtle's I I 70 ~7OPublications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI ka'wat. d'ta2, ma'waw kayjs-wi'nihtukua2 ani'nuh po~sd'hlkaka'nan, iniwi'n s sasehlci'hsihlcua2 a/ci'kuh Anctmo'hAk. nik~tti's keh niw ini'win as lkuslc'sit mihkd'ndih. ha'w, 1c's8kusit. iniwi'n niw as ki'nu,tsinii'tsin We,'wAfl. h&A, yd'hpits 1kayi'nutsindi'tsin, kawin Wi'yAk mitd'muh. hd'ta?, 'alcu'Atsih kAna' pats tsiW-isi'W,' ini'nihtA'min mihlki'neih. 1k~td's sa?ye'h ung'win. 8i'kats-pilha'tsin; ni'pi~tawin, sd'kit6'hnet mihkd'ndh. 'kcuhsihkwd'w!'I ~wd'hin. he'y, 8i pahkid'nin. nawj'naW sa? yeh mi'sik pd?8i'Ic e?8ih,- ' kuhsihkwti'w, mAhkcukihlcwd'w, lcuhsihkWdAW!' he'?, kawin MI'A~ un6'htanan mihkd'mih. ha'w, iniw'i'n-pih apei'?sik imi'nalcah kuhkg'w W'SW~. iniwi'n teA sa? yeA, 'wh, wh, wit, wh, '2 - Ti'ta?, iniwi'n-teh2. Me?si'h s ki'skihsit2. he'?, me'napus ini'win as n6'htawvatsin mihkdn&'hkun, sdseh'1hoiw. wd'? teh ayu'm?' indi'nihtAmin me'?napus. s&'kit6'hnewin wg'kih. ha'w, iniwi'n keh niw ini's wd'htsimit2. '1u3' nimti'tim6'hsim as mdk-nipai'yan kjs-8d'kit6'Anew; kAn wi' yAk ini's s mdk-nipai'yah; nipa-'mi-nitiwd'mdiw- kAn-e'? nap ini'8 Upi'Anan?' ind'win mihlc4'na-h me~napu'sun. 'ha'? teA as w~'kit?' ch/u3kA, kA An / kAn nikd'hkinawdi'nan wi'yAk ini'A as a'w-in4h. niti'Aseh 1cdA ni'sik ini? d'nih; mahkcIi'hsikkwd'w inii'w; m'? tdh as wg'kit; unitsi'Anehs~n imi'? as awMh-kandi'wihat~in. umdi'? teA niW as8 't nj'ki'h; pas kipit8-tstj'?napuma~w, 'n i'win me'?napus8. 8di'Asaki'1cahkwAn; icAn Ica'k6A uti'AsAn, umei'hkesi'nan, upe'A8eAnimcd'?, Mct't-And'm ini'Win s 8ehkg'hsih. AMA, uru~mi'kanan aitki-'hih imi'win niwC& aspiMdPiAsine'nik, mma-'A-un,3nd'kanan. '"mAhlu'Asihlcwd'w!' ind'win mihkdi'nah. hdi'ta?, mim-n~puwi'pahtawin Ana'm, ts'?napumikut msihkdi'md md't8-MAt89'?-Ana'mun. IAlmost inaudible, and on very high pitch; the following calls grow louder. 2 Narrator whistles'at these points. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 171 clothes, they all lay there. After a while Turtle woke up. When he woke up, he felt in vain for his wife. He could not find her at all as he groped for her; the woman was gone. "Well, she must have gone out of doors," thought Turtle. After a while he got up from the couch, impatient with waiting for her; Turtle rose to his feet and went out of the house. "Fawn-Woman!" he called. It was all quiet. After a while, more loudly: "Fawn-Woman, Fawn-Woman, Fawn-Woman!" Oh, not a thing did Turtle hear. Then he went farther over in yonder direction. And then, "Wh, wh, wh," and he whistled; and then he whistled more loudly. Hah, that was when Me'napus heard Turtle, as he lay at ease in his lodge. "There, what does this fellow amount to!" thought Me'napus. He stepped out of his house. And there he was whistling. "What is it? What's the matter with you?" Me'napus asked him. "Why, while I was asleep, my wife stepped out of the house; she is gone from where we were sleeping; I am going round calling for her to come. She hasn't come here, has she?" said Turtle to Me'napus. "Oh, no!" he answered him; "What is she called? What's her name?" "Fawn-Woman she is called," answered Turtle. "Where does she live?" "Right over here, right over here is her house, our house." "Oh, no! I don't know anyone by that name. Only my dog has that name, to be sure; she is called Fawn-Woman; she stays over there; that is where she keeps her young ones. Over here she is, in my house; we might go take a look at her," Me'napus told him. Turtle went there, entering Me'napus' lodge. He was bare-legged; he had no leggings, no moccasins, no jacket, no robe; he was all naked. When he looked over at the fireplace, why, there lay a big dog. Its dugs lay flopping way over the ground, its big dugs. "Fawn-Woman!" Turtle called to it. The dog jumped to its feet, and stared at Turtle, the big, ugly dog. 1 72 172 ~Publications, American Ethn~oioqical Society Vl I Vol. XII 'ta yd'h I" inei'nihtamin mihlkd'ndh sii'kit6'hnet me'2na~puS w~'kih; mii'? ldih sa~ye'h lkd'k~h as ihPd'nasit j'h-aygum MAtse'2I-Me~na 'PUS.' ina'nihtAmin mihkdi'ndh. payi'Atat ini'8 as tsi'-we~lkit inuh miti'muh, M&'2, Andm5hseh8Alc ini'win as mak-MiAna'tsi?tAtua? ani'nuh up6'2sehkalkanan mihk-d'ndh as a'2tekin. mihkd~'ndih ftipipund'win ani'nuh Andm~hs~hSAn, icute'?nas s Tiyahpkinatsin h, wdtdi'hpinah upil'seIhka'kan, hdA fsi-k1s-mdm~'tsit&'hkcua? mdi'wa niw ani'nuh uap6'?seh/ca/a'nan. 'ayi'h hya'h, Apa'? /ceh wZ'nihta'wA/c nip6'2seh/ca/a'nan MAts'?andi'mu/c!' Jwa'hin 'mihkdi'ndh as 1cWwdt. iniwi'n teh niw mitsi' niw as /cik/c'wa~te/cin ani'nuh up6'2seh/caka'nan mihkdi'ndh s pakc~'ah, lkd'2ts-nehlc6'sit. mits3i' niw teh niw nek1c6'8iWin mih/cd'ruih y6'hpih. ifli'? mdi'waw. 73. SO-ME ADVENTURES OF ME'NA PUS. (m~ise'n ma/capi'w) naMd'w, mnena'puw9 /eh pd'pim6'hne'win. s md'tsiAt s mii'l-ni.jpim6'hnet, kcAni'uin nipeZ'/se1h matapi'Ahnet. nahd'w, mihkd~'kcuk ini'win as i'tua2. ini'win iceh, nawjniihi'tsin, kcay~s-pi'Atdt inis si'timih, inuh nilcu't mihkdi'k ini'win pi,8isi'At iflis si'temik. naMd'w iniwi'n-pih me'2napne8 kayi'kitutawatsin. 'hii'' ind'win, 'nehsg'2, dni'wd'/c kdh kitiit'nisi'muAw! nd.'2s nina'hb nap ini'h s aw-is.~mi'kusE' yen!' CMA, me'?napu's8, awd'ni2 pas wayi'hkcihtulc ini'h is~'/ciw as awva wiyen?' 'hi', nehsi'meh2, nl's /cAt ninba'h nap inikt is~'/iw /cAt nit&'wiut, ini'h /cinu'a a's uni'8i ye/c!' h&'ta2, iniwi'n-pih md'wa niw payi'Atua&?. nui'waw payi'Atua?, metd'tah ni's-inh d'wiwAkc. 'nahd'w, ta'?, nina-/cutsZ'?tAm inik is~'/ciw as aw-ii'wi yen.'hiiw, nine'? tiih aw-il'wiyen,' ~wil'hin inuh ni/cut mihla'/c. iniwi'n-pih /cayi"tinah up*'hseh/ca'/can, me~napu'sun as p6?sd'h/cAtenii'tsin inih UP9'hseh/ca/can. lii, iniwi'n keh me'?nqpus8 mihlki'/c as di'wit, pahpisj'w winah na'p pahpis~'w nipi'hih pimpt,-'tsimet, /ckil/'cit, mi'tsihsit, wasd'hsiAn as me~'tsikc. 'hM', rnem~napt's-, ini'? sa?yii'h s a-mdtsi'yah,' ind'win. he'? /ceh uhPi'2tatua? md'waw, mdls yA'tua2, uma'Ina/cah tdh ayiits/ci'sawah s i8yA'tua?, as inim-mil'k/-pimd's/cAtua?, `me?napu's, UinA's md'ts-mini'/can /cinaw-inim-nii'ri?. p6'n tsi'/cah/cyah And'pinun; p6n Ana'pinun! /cahpi'h niAkdi'yah s a-pimj'?neyah, "~h5A!" awand'pinun ini's tsi'/cah/cyah; /cinaw-mis5'/cdm,' - pd's/cetsisu'aWAkin. 1 Gestuire: hand held round mouth as if about to vomit. 2 Foreign word, probably Ojibwa. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 173 "Heavens!" thought Turtle, and went out of Me'napus' lodge; "So it's now that this confounded Me'napus has played me a foul trick!" thought Turtle. When he came to where that woman had dwelt, lo, there were some little puppies playing where Turtle's clothes lay. Turtle seized those little puppies and threw them down somewhere, one after another. Oh, when he picked up his jacket, why, they must have befouled all those garments of his. "Confound it, the nasty dogs have certainly dirtied my clothes!" said Turtle, starting for home. And even now they are lying around here and there, those garments of Turtle's which he abandoned in his great anger. And to this very day Turtle is angry. That is all. 73. SOME ADVENTURES OF ME'NAPUS. (Misen Makapiw) Now, Me'napus, as usual, was tramping about. Once, when he set out and was wandering along, he came down to the shore of a lake. There were some geese. So then, when in creeping up to them he had reached the water's edge, one of the geese came to the bank there. Then Me'napus spoke to it. "Hello, Little Brother," he said to it; "you surely are beautiful; I wish I too could look like that!" "Why, Me'napus, who ever could bring it about that you should be a creature like that?" "Oh, Brotherkin, please let me be like that, handsome like you!" Then they all came. When they had all come, there were a dozen of them. "Well now, I shall try to be like that. - Very well, who will it be?" "I'll be the one!" said one goose. With that, he drew off his jacket and put it on Me'napus. So now Me'napus was a wild-goose and accordingly swam along in the water with the others, dived here and there, and got his food, eating water-weeds. "Now, Me'napus, it is time for us to be going," he was told. So then they all flew up and started off, going in yonder direction where it was still warm weather, and as they were traveling along: "Me'napus, over here we shall see on our way a large town. Do not look down at the ground; do not look! When we are seen flying past, 'Ho!' the people will say; 'Some geese traveling by!' But be sure not to look down at the earth; you will get hit," - he meant that they would be shot at with guns. ) 74 ~74Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Wda, me'? napus, 'd iA, mihkii'Iuk kdihf pd'pik lcs-anij'piwin imi's ahki'hih. hd'2, iniwi'n keh s tsi-mi's~h d'hasih-nis-anii'pit. h&'ta2, ini'2 lceh as ni'pdik me'2napus. ta"), Icu'm tdh ifineh mditsi'wAlk; winul'a2 teh ikAn misu'anuwawan. ha'. ine'9napus teh winah ini'? as nipd'lc. ha'w, nd'hlcah; - ini's s 1cs-p&'pehtsih, mnehlci'h iniwi'n s U~sahts'kawikc; silcas niw indi'kuhki'hnenin nih me'hkih, - iniwi'n keh ivs'-un&ts dhpm'tst j'w nw.?dty';t'?a e i s mdik-pdpim5'hnet, kAni'Win w~'kiw~m nayd'mik. ha'?, iniwi'nkeh-na'kah d'SiAt. payi'htilcet ini's we'kiWAxrih rnahwdi'w Si WAS apej'win. 'h'i'ni?, me'?nqapus?? ta'?-nalkah wdh-pi'yen?' ~5', ume'? Iceh niw wdih-pi yen.' ha-'ta?, iniwi'n keh as &'yit. ndi'hkcah, sa?ye'h pi'wAkin aki'kuh, inuhi mahwd'w ukO'SAfl; ne?ni'wAlkin. hW'w, mi'ta?8i'WAlkin. 'flipu'Animeh!' ind'win nuh mahwd'w. hvAme'9napus tsayj'?napumd.'tsin, kawin kd'ke~h upitt'nuwawan! ha'?, inuh rnahwdf'w iniwi'n din&'tsin ani'nuh uki'?SAf nikvu t, hdi'w, iniwi'n keh wvinah d'8iAt mahwd'w; hdi'w. iniwi'n s awAh, ii'minet ini'smre?na' pus s api't. 'td'!'1 me?na' pus wi'nah; 1siAh., kina-wv~'nihtsikd'm!' ~wd'hin me'?napus. pus? wd'ki? tdh i5'h ki'nah a-mj'tsan?' ta'?, me'?napus, 'awd'ni? tdh 6'h pas wayi'hkihtuk as a-mj.'tsik inih me'mjnAn?' naha'w, iniwi'n keh, waydi'pah misi'k pahp~'situa? alci'kuh ind'niWAk, akuh mahwei'wAk, hA'w, payi'Atua?, we'wasi wAkint. nahM'w, pi'ta?8iwAk. 'ha- 'ni?, nehs8j'O, kitd'ninihileu'naWAk kiki'8ina'WAk!' iwa'hmn me?na'pus. ha'?,. iniwi'n keh tdh kA'niw mitsim~'hseh as apu'ahsit, maMi'tsihsit. ta'?, iniwi'n kek wawj'kimi'wdt, mnis ayi't mis. nik~kti's niw ay'i'wik, 'naha'w, me?na'pus, kAtdw-ahka'w ayum u?nd'hsimaw kiki'?s8inaw,' iw&'hin nuh ke?ts8-ind'niw aya'wit; 'md'wa niw kinaw-wawiAlhki'hsine?; icAn wi'yAk wnaw-tsZ'?napumu'fnan. nd keh nu'p, me'?napus, kAn kui'k6h kki-pehtii'nan waye-'htaMAkd'yAnin!' ha'?, mii'wats-sehki'hsihlcua?, wdwiAhki'hsihkua?. ta'?, iniwi'n kek wi'nah mahwd'w as a'1hkat. /&&, *ik6tui's aya'wik, me'?napus inim-ts9'?napuma'tein, h&'w, iniwi'n as tsi'AhkAkAnu'htaMA'kut mini 1Strongly labialized t. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 175 Oh dear, Me'napus, - "Of course, they are just geese!" - at once looked down at the earth there. And so he was hit by a shot, right then when he looked thither. So now Me'napus died. But the others went on; they were not hit. But as for Me'napus, there he was, dead. When evening came, - there where he had fallen the blood had run from him; the blood stood there to quite a depth, - then he arose from there, restored to life. Then he went away from there; to some place or other he went. As he tramped along, after a time he saw a dwelling. So he went toward it. When he entered that dwelling, there sat a wolf. "Hello, Me'napus! Where do you come from?" "Oh, from just over here a ways!" So there he stayed. At nightfall they came, that wolf's sons; there were three of them. They were bringing home the game. "My nephew!"1 he called those wolves. Me'napus looked at them: they were not bringing anything at all! Then the wolf said to one of his sons, "Now, go over and set down your game before your uncle!" So then that wolf went there; and then he vomited there where Me'napus was sitting. As for Me'napus, "Fie, you are dirtying things!" he said. But that wolf, the old man, "Why, Me'napus, what would there be for you to eat?" And Me'napus, "Why, who do you suppose could eat that vomit?" So then, on the next day, when those men, those wolves, hunted again, when they came home, they carried packs. They brought home the game. "Why, Brother, our sons are doing great things for us!" said Me'napus. So now at last he roasted some meat and had a supply of food. So he stayed there and lived with them. Then, at one time, "Now, Me'napus, this oldest son of ours is going to extract marrow," said the old man; "We shall all lie with our heads covered; no one will watch him. Of course you, Me'napus, never heed anything you are told." They all lay down and covered their heads, and the wolf began to crack marrow-bones. Then, at one time, as Me'napus watched him, a chip from the bone he was smashing flew at Me'napus. The 1 A man's brother's son. I t.6 7(ii Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII u~hkc'n. a"?, me'2napus iniwi'n-nakah d'hpitik inih zthk&'n; inis wvj'nih min? as pet7'pehneh. h&'wu, me"2napus ini'win as warni'nihtah. nAWd'h lCAfi'w a'piskawin, yed'h-pemFI'tesit. ayo"? maty~'ninan ayum vhs'mimaw, kilci'2s3 as aw-d'wit,.' iku'ahin ani'nu~h ke~ts-indi'niwAn, 's a-kiw-pahp~'sit, a-lki-ne'2tuah a-mZ'tsan, apdi'hsusun. ta"?, nikdi'ta-kusj'mjnau'. re'2napu8, kinu,'a2 nap ku'w,~'kun Akie "?nas kayfi'nituh: nina"? nap kayd'nituh ninawisi' AMincaw.' a~h',waydi'pah iniwi'n iceh s kusi'tua?. ta"?, me'2napus kute"?nas ke'h niw wi'nah ap lkusi'tua'?, mdik-pim5'hnetua2, ini'win, nip~'hseh matdpi'ahnetua2, me'2napus uma'nalkah ana'pit, wCA, wji'2naw ini'win d'hick- inih nip~'hseh. mnisi'k uma'nalkah 4ini'pit, wdi'2naw misi'lk ahki'win ini'h nipj'hseh. ini's tdih as i'tua2, umdi'npih niw dkcdm~'wik. h&'w, iniwi'n keh s wawi'kitua'2, pJ'pahpisinit aninuh uki'2s3An kay~8-mn~'nih. UMA 's teh tep&'h pi8-ahpi'yen, po'n pis-mis8lca'nun; kiA'?to'hnenun wi'ki niw. MAtsi'?-awa't`ukAlk y'? as i'tua2.' kii'w, k~td's ayd'wik, iniwi'n-pih d'hpiAt inuh ind'niw; h&A, as ts"?n~aPu~mdi'tsin, anum kj'so~nAn, in~i'win sa~ye'h s ni'k, s inimni'Ic. hd'w, wd.Vnaw ahku'akAMiWin nih niP~'hseh; uma'nakah mi'n niw wvd'?naw ahklcu'Akamiwin. hfi'wv, iniwi'n-pih paya'ts-sfIi'kisit inih upli'kwahteh. Cnahdi'w. mint'? teh nilki'hk-i?tAmf. mi"i? niw s a-ta'p-misiikd'yen!' iniwi'n teh sa'?yeh tsi-wd'p~t; ta"? mehkuAme~'wiwin as kepii'teh. jK' kld'tin, wdi'pjt, kcd'2ts-wd'pjt, 8a'?ye'lh i'pehtaw payi'Atait, iniwi'npih payj'kuskat inuh mehku'AM. hei'nuw inim-kdklu'aIhnit, ni-Ikutdpdimd'tsgin ani'nuh mehlku'AMiAn, ayd'tsku,'At Icdk~t'Ahnet, iniwi'n s siil'hkihsih, mi"i? keh, mAm#j'1it. hA~, me'2Inapus ini'win as sc'kitsi'pahtuk; h6Ahwiik, me'2napus uk7,"?sAn mi"i? keh nipi'hih h tahpttnd'nit. h~i', mi"i? keh me"?napus s kii"?ts-m~k; iniwin lceh as8 wdw~'kit, min's niw. nahtM'w, aicu tih andi'mcahliah aYi'ftua? MAtsi"?-awd'tukcAk, ani'wVAnin wdtd'hpeni'lkut inuk, ani'nu~h uki"?SAn. s mtik-mdi'mO1k, nayi'wul-u,'nakah, lkAni'win pis-pi'htilce'nit uki"?SAn. as isj'2tayeik, me"?napus8 mamu/awdk ani'nuh ukf,'2sAn? kinawnindwii'tsihiku~naw; mdi'wa niw kinaw-ppi'm-ne~ni'kunaw: MAts99?civ'yAk J'wiw me"?napws. ydh-mg'nehklun ulki"?sAn!' nayi'wu~ku'nakah, iniwi'n-pih payi'Anit ulki"?sn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 177 piece of bone flew straight at Me'napus; it landed on his head. Me'napus lost consciousness. After a long time he came to, restored to life. So then, "Well now," said the old man, "I give you this youngest one to be your son," the old man told him, "to hunt and to kill food for you, deer. For we are going to move camp. Do you and he, Me'napus, also move camp, to some other place; I and the others, also, shall go to another place." So, on the next day, they broke camp. Then Me'napus and his companion moved on to some place; as they were walking along, when they came down to a lake, and Me'napus looked over yonder, why, to a great distance did that lake extend. And when he looked the other way, a long ways, again, did that lake extend. But where they were, the opposite shore was right close. So there they continued to dwell, and his son that had been given to him always hunted. Then, at one time, "My son, if it gets too dark and you come to the place right across here, do not cross the water to come home; walk all the way round, regardless of the distance. Evil spirits are in this place." Then, at one time, to that place came that man; when he looked at this sun, it was already low upon its setting course. A long distance stretched the water of that lake; and in the other direction as well, to a far distance went the water of the lake. Then he tightened his belt. "Oh, it will be well, I am a swift runner. I shall get across well enough right here!" Then he started to run; for it was all frozen over with ice. Truly, as he ran, running with all his might, and had got halfway to his goal, then that ice broke up into moving blocks. Though he kept leaping as he went along, jumping upon the blocks of ice, at last, as he sprang, he slipped. That was the end; he was taken. Oh, Me'napus ran out of his lodge, - alas, there Me'napus' son perished in the waters. So then Me'napus, weeping bitterly, continued to dwell in that same place. Now these evil spirits who dwell under the ground, they were the ones who had taken that son of Me'napus. As he thus continued to weep, on the fourth day, suddenly into the lodge came his son. For this was what the evil spirits said: "Beware! Why do ye this thing, taking his son from Me'napus? He will destroy us; he will set about killing us all; a powerful being is Me'napus. Give him back his son!" On the fourth day came his son. 12 178 178 ~Publiccations, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII:Md'w, luvw, nuhne'2, niya'h-piAm!' oA a idwin me~na' pus, '8a~ye'h nilcj'8-us&'mati'mim. nahd'w, ume'?-tdh-na'1kah as ni'k, ini'2 tdih s aw#jh-i'ye~n,, li'nah. tdi'2-nakah 5'h a-lktw-isi'Atua? pama'tesitua2 kcayej8-nipeiku,'awin? S UfWtii2tiAku~witua2 ini'2-nakah a-kiw-is3-mdt8sk'lAtua?.' iniwi'n-fpih teh inih nilkut meh8~'w kahlka'hna~tew maye~ni'tsin. 'hd'w, y6'? teh icita's/cutern; kies-piAta'yan, ini'? teh 8 a-p6'tawe'yAn. ini'? tdih a-lkiw-isi'Atua? utei'2tqyAkuwdi'wan.' h&'w, iniwi'n iceh tdh WiyAlk nd'pilkin y&'s ayum Icc' gA8-mama'tsi~taw, iniwi'n-nalcah lkiw-i8-mdtsi'slkAt 8 uta'?tsyAlkowit. nalu'w, me?na'pus iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsi'At, papai'm-m6'k papa'mati'mit. mdi'k-ni w-psmdi'8kAt, iniwi'n-pih nayd'milk w~'kiwAmAn, pdmii'esitua? s wi'Icitua?. ta'?, misdVhkAtewd'win, mahlcd'hsiW wdsi'hit. naha'w, payi'htilcet nilcu't keh niw inih wg'lkiwAm, l~tAh, ap~'nun, nd'hlcah, payi'Atua? pahp~'.siwAk, awcs'hs8An pind'WAkin. ha'w, iniwi'n naydi'nititua?. anu,'m tah unei'hkAn inuh awd'hseh, usetAn, w9's, ilniwi'n ds-kg'sitek nilcii't inuh ahkd'h; nahM'w, ta'?, UMA'S tiih misi'lc s Mi'tsim9'hsiWit. hc'w, kay&~-ki'Sisi'Ahkih, ini'h ni/kut undi'ican inih we s ini'win s a'?tuh msik an6h usi'tAn un' h/cAn inuh aw4'hseh. 'hM'w, aw~'h-nit6i'mehkun mihkd'niih!' ha'?, iniwi-'n keh s aw~'h-nat6mih. e'h, pi'h/ctilkewin mihldi'nih. ha'w, iniwin-pih md'mih inih und'/can inih awdi'hseh wg'8 as a'?tikc. hii'w, misik mihkdi'ndh, 'nahd'w, wi'yA/c /cutd'nAS wdih-pi'Atsin, /ci-/Ata'w-mena'tsihaw. ini's kceh wjt6'hpumin ayu,'m /ci'Atdw!' ta'?, /cawi'n keh/c~nawa'nan payi'/cwMt8 me?na' pus as a'wit. kWI'w ni'? kdv~h as mi'tsihsitua?. ta'?, me?na'pus as8 mesii'h/ctewdt, mahkci'hsiw! ta'?, misi '/c anum und'h/cAn kAn uk&~-/ci8Z'?nitunan. ta'?, iniwi'n /ceh mih/cd'neih as w~nd'nimatsin. 'Oih, /ciw~'nik&.qi'AhtAn y6'm niw~'nim!' h~t'w, iniwin tdh, - hMAta?, me'?napus winah kas/cd'nihtAmin; ta'?, mdkc-papa'm-ppdi'ratimuw. n~aha'w, wayii'pah, tsi-ma'tsiAt me'?napus, 8i/cA's ihpihk /eh ni'w payi'Atat, iniwvi'n-pih 'h&'w, mitd'muh ninaw-d'wim!' jw&'hin. naha'w, misi'/c teih apii'h/ciyen ndy6mdi'tin, yd'h-wAsk-t, ini's tak, i 8i'At /cuh mamii'tsi?tawA/c s wi'/citua?, Iud'w, payi'Atdt, nayi'ah, -naydwui'tua? Mit 'MUh8A/c, - iniwi'n pi8-pe5'na?sit, s kAtdwwg'/cit. ha'?, akuh mitdi'muh8Alk i8i'WAkcin; ta?, kAn undi'nawanu'wawan awd'? tsiw-di'wit. ta'?, iniwi'n keh 8 nd'tamuwa'tua? s uni 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 179 "Now, now, Father, I have come back!" "Oh," said Me'napusto him, "by this time I have overwept. So then, in yonder direction where the sun sets, there do you go and dwell. For where are the people to go, whenever one has died? In the substance of their souls, that is where they will always journey." With that he gave him a burning brand from the fire. "Now, here is some fire for you; when you have arrived, there you will kindle your hearth. And thither their souls will always go." And so, there, whenever anyone dies here, of these ancient Indians, to that place he journeys in his soul. Then Me'napus set out, and went about weeping and crying. As he traveled along, he saw some houses, where some people lived. Now, he was fasting; with charcoal he painted his face. When he entered one of the houses, "Well, sit down, sit down!" he was told. At eve, when the hunters came, they brought in a bear. So then they had a feast. The front and hind feet of the bear, and its head were cooked in one kettle. And the same was done with the fleshy part. When the cooking was done, the head was put into a bowl, and also the bear's hind-paws and fore-paws. "Well, go and invite Turtle!" So then he was gone for and summoned. "Hello! Go sit over there!" he was told. Then that bowl was taken in which lay the bear's head. And again Turtle was told, "Now then, whenever anyone comes from some place, one always treats him with consideration. So do you eat along with that stranger there." For he was not known to be Me'napus. So now they ate. Now, Me'napus, as he was fasting, - charcoal! And he had not washed his hands either. Then, of course, Turtle felt disgust at him. "Bah. you are eating this bear's head of mine with dirty fingernails!" Me'napus felt hurt at these words; anyone could see that he was going about in mourning. On the next day, when Me'napus went from there, when he had gone a little ways, he said, "Now I shall be a woman!" Then, carrying on his back some reeds for a wigwam, he went back to where these people lived; when he got there and was seen, - when the womenfolk saw him, - then he came and set down his load, making ready to camp. Of course, the women went to where he was; for they did not know who he was. So then, of course, they 12* 180 180 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kd'nit. ha'?, me'?naputs, kay~s-1cWsihtukua? inih w~'k, payi'htike'tua?, p6'tawet, tsipii'hlcit, MAslciitsi'hSAn misi'k tdh 89wii'pirninan 'lkAfi'w, kjs-mi'tsihs~'yad, kits-rn tsi'AmuAw,' ind'win cani'nuh rnita'muhsAn kayes-ndi'tamnAkut imi's s usg'htuk inih wj'k. hdi'w, iniwi'n lkeh kaygs-mdtsi'Anit ani'nuh miti'muhSAn kay~spis-nd'taMAkut, iniwi'n-pih aydi'n mnehkf7'A~napiAn wd'sihAtsin. ha'?, ndi'hkah, payi'Atua? pahpeg'8iWAk wd'skineni'tuOa 9.,'kiWAM, siwas aOte'win, kaydi'nit wg'kiwArn. 'd'? tdh? aw4'? teh y6'm wg'k?' 'ha.A, sinawa'? niw! y6'? keh s 'usk.9'h-pi'hkusit ni/kut mitd'muh.' ha'?, wlini'tipd'hkah, w4'skineni'tua? aya'pits-awjh-1kjma'piwAkin ini's wg'kih. ha', mitd'muh Si WA's apE'win, mehku'A~napiAn as usghii'tsin. nilku't t4dh i'nuh uski'h-ind'niw we'htsita ni'w payi'Atat, wats8in, 1kutsg'munatsin tdi'?-nakah wdh-[pi'Anit. 'hA'> umnd'2 lkeh 7'neh pdma'tesitua? as i'tua?; mi'i? wdh-pi'yen niw; y6's nine5'htAn hii'neh pdmii'tesitua? wdiwi'kitua2; ini'9 wei'h.d iwdi'hin inuh mitd'muh, '-An-di'? Pas 1kit&'h-nit6mdi'nan in'uk rnihkdi'nah? nik&'tew-kd'2ts-ndi'wdw; kina-tipc'hun.' hdA, Md'ts-mehku'a?nap iwi'n isj'kiwAn mayg'niku~t. 'nahii'w, ay6'? keh ma yg'ninan as aw-awg'h-nAt3mat mihlki'nah.' hei'w, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsiAt inuh in4'niwt as awM~-nt~nui'tsin mihkdind'hkun. payi'Atdt, 'ha'ni2, mihkdind'h? kine'? ndi'tumih inuh miti'muh; kika'taw-kd'?ts-ni'Ak.' 4sjAh, kits-kin5'hkim!' 'kA'n! ndi', tsj'?napumin e9'h-ayum mehku'a~nap! anu'? tdi'pahit as a-pis-nat6'minan.' 'ha'?, ha'w, ninaw-isi'AM!' ha', mihldi'nah, nAmdi'hkwAkum 4'wiwin utdi'kum; naha'w, Misi'k uti'hsAn, iniwi'n isg' kin ayti'wik, nAma'hkwAlkum, misi'k uwi'AhkwAn, nandi'h-pAldi'ts! s9 isi'At teh ini's ani'nuh mitii'muh8An, payVh'1ninine5'htAn kinah IkuhkcZ'w ah tsiw-is9'ki yen. ini'? wd'h-pi' yen, "4nd'2s Ikas nilk&'nawihik I" s ind~'nihtAMAn,' - s a-we,'kimatsin teh, hciA ini'win keh kdkli'kititua?. nahd'w, ta'?. ini'? as nahlk'&'htitua? as kAtd'W-kand'wihe'titua2. 'nahd'w, sa'?yeh keh pas kine!'pdi?; sa~ye'h kini's wArn'tipa'hkAt.' ta'?, iniwi'n keh ndp$'tua2, hm, kay&s-nipd't mihkd'niih, iniwi'np'ih wi'nah mayd'tiAt me'?napu8. hd'w, wAyd'$pah 1k6'skusit, hd'w, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 181 helped him build his wigwam. Then Me'napus, when they had completed his wigwam, and had entered, built his fire and cooked; beans and sweet-corn were what he cooked. "Wait; when you have eaten, you may go," he said to the women who had helped him build his lodge. So then, when those women who had come and helped him, had gone away, he started to work at one of those red sashes. In the evening, when the young hunters came home, there stood a house, a new house. "What's this? Whose house is this?" After dark the young men incessantly went and peered into his lodge. Oh, there sat a woman, working a red sash! One of those young men went all the way up to the place and entered and sat down inside there, and struck up a conversation with her, asking her whence she came. "Oh, just over yonder some people live; that is whence I come; I heard that some people live right here; that is why I came here; that is all," she told him. "So that's it, is it?" he answered her. "Oh," said that woman, "can't you please go and call that Turtle? I am very eager to have sight of him; I shall reward you." A big red sash, that was the thing she gave him. "See, this is what I give you, so that you will go call Turtle." Then that man went from there to call Turtle. When he reached the place, "Hello, Turtle! It is none other than you that woman is inviting; she is very eager to have sight of you." "Bosh! No doubt you are lying!" "No! Just look at this red sash here! It's this she has given me in payment for coming and inviting you!" "Oh, all right, I shall go there!" Well, Turtle's blanket-robe was of beaver-skin; and his leggings, too, were of the same, of beaver-skin, and his hat to boot, - splendid! When he went to where that woman was, and entered the wigwam, at once she began to converse with him. "I have always heard that you are an unusual person. That is why I have come here, with the thought, 'I do wish he would marry me!' " - that he was to live with her, that they were to live together. So then they talked with each other. And then they agreed to marry each other. "Well then, it is time we might be sleeping; it has been dark for a long time." So then they went to bed. As soon as Turtle was asleep, Me'napus went away from there. In the morning, when he woke up, -182 182Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xli wz'rnipa2 uta'kUMAnI uti'h8An, uwi'AhlkWAn kAn lka'lkh. hdAh, iniwi'n kelh milhkd'niih as lkaslcd'nihtah. Md'W, May~'tSiAt ppam-kutse-'mutsi'kdit nt6ndhM'tsin, uma'nak anii'mahlciah y6'2-nakah na'2tAm kayes-niku~te,'2nas payi'htiketsin, nitiwdma'tsin, 'ta2 6'h tsiw-i'njh inuh mitd'mu~h tsi-kis-MAMU'ah ani'nuh lkiti'nan?' 'ta'2, wCI'kuhs~'hkwew ind'win.' 65A, ta"?, icAn Wi'yAk nildi'hkinawii'nan ini'h as aw-i'nh, wakiihsgi'hkwew.' hM'w, kayes-misewcs'-niw-isi'At. iniwi'n-pih misi'k uma'nakach s~pa'miah mitsi' ppdim-1ut8Z'mutsikdt, nitiweimi'tsin ani'nuh wd'kuhsi'hkwd'wAn. Md', iniwin lcdh s kinunehatsin. 'tsAh, me~na'pu8 icAt nitd'S yAm; winah na'p awa'tuk d'wiw, me?na pu~s. Md'tyAt, hM'w, pa yi'At at inks me'2napu s tsi-wdwj'kit, 'hM'ni2 C'A, ta'ni2, nend'?! kine'? niw kuhkj'w d'siki'yen. mitd'muh nik&s-wehtsi'taw-k5'hpatsi'hik; md'waw nipe3'2sehkla'kanan niki8 -mamul'Alk.' 'ta'?, wd'kuhsi'hkwew ind'w.' '6A, niti'hseh ikeh ii'? 4'nih; wdkfzhsi'hk1wd'w ina-'w. ~'h-ini2 tdh s taniihsit, urntsi'Anehs~n as pemghd'tsin. hd'w, kitd'st'A2!' hMA, pcsyiAtd'tua2, kawin p5'ts8 nd'kwAtun ani'nuh misi'hkew up6'?sehkalkanan, mihlcd'ndh. ndA. wi'nah mihk,-'ndh kaklcua~nenAlcd'niA,tamin; aki'kuh Anamo'hSAk md'waw mi'tsitd'hkzwa2, kawi'r& nd'k-wAtun. 'MA, nahM'w, mihkd'ndh, kikjs-apd'2tsinawd'Ihimit as k~s-wjnii'nimi yen, ini'h-pih ma yi'tsisi yak, s kis-nd'nike yak awd'hkseh! nahd'w, ini'? teh sa~ye'h as aw-usi'hinan, ini's s aw-ini-tanii's~yan aw-d'ts-ahkj'wik.' kay~8-td'pinih mihkd'niih, iniwin ni ke'?tsi'h s n5'pat,8Z'8kiwAkah as asi'kani'ksihkik, kay&s-td'pin~atsin me'2napus mihkciiw'hkun, sr win ei'hpakind-i'sn. 6hkwd', mikkd'ndhinik '? ikeh 1cs-ani'h-n4'naw~'htawit; d'h., atsi'skihkiah i' yutsi'?tapd'2tawin. 'ini'? Ikel, y6'?-nuh ahpd'n niw aw-i'nim-tand'8iyen aw-dts-ahini'? keh mihlkd'ndh s kics-lc6'patsihih. Md'w, iniwin-pih misi'k maya'tsiAt me'2napus3 as 1kAtd'w-awj'hne?na'tsin ani'nuh kay&~-mamu'akut uki'2sAn. iniwi'n-pih mehn6'nan Wd'8ihatsin. kay&s-k9'8ihatsin, iniwi'n-pih inks pay6'sit. iniwi'npih tdk pmi-ndni'mit ini's umdhn6'nimih; iniwi'n-pih ki-nilcd'mit, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 183 why, where was his blanket-robe? His leggings and his hat were gone. Ah, then was Turtle grieved. When he set out and asked, looking for her, down here under the ground was where he first sought her. Whenever he entered anywhere, calling for her, "Why, what is the name of that woman who you say has taken your things?" "Fox-Woman1 she said was her name." "Oh, well, we do not know anyone by that name, Fox-Woman." Then, when he had gone everywhere, he went about, in turn, through the upper regions on his quest, asking for Fox-Woman. But he sought her in vain. "Worse luck, suppose I go to Me'napus; he too is a being endowed with spirit-power, is Me'napus." He set out and came where Me'napus dwelt, "How do you, Turtle? What is it?" "It is not well with me, Brother! It is you who are a being of more than common power. A woman has indeed cruelly abused me; she has taken all my garments from me." "Is that so? And what may be her name?" "Fox-Woman she is called." "Why, to be sure, my dog is called by that name; Fox-Woman she is called. Right over there she stays with her puppies, for she is caring for her young. Let us go there." When they came to that place, beyond recognition were Mesihkew's, Turtle's clothes. Turtle was aghast; those puppies had befouled them all; they were beyond recognition. "Now then, Turtle, you know that you angered me in no small way when you showed your disgust at me, at the time when we had our festive meal of bear's meat. And it's now that I will dispose of you, so that you shall have your place over yonder, as long as there shall be an earth." Turtle was seized, and right close by, where there was a mudhole in a marsh, when Me'napus had seized Turtle, into that place he flung him. Poor Turtle, that was the end of his being a hero; bah, in the puddle he squirmed with sinews standing out all over his body. "So there now! This is the place where you shall always continue to dwell, as long as the earth shall endure!" Thus was Turtle brought to ruin. Then did Me'napus again set out, to go and slay him who had taken his son. He built a raft. When he had completed it, he embarked. And then he kept dancing there on his raft; and then he kept singing, Apparently an adaptation of the unintelligible foreign name which appears in the first version. 1 IS4 1~~4 Publicatione, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XI I wiv'nataydw, pis-kfu'hsina2, pis-kut'hsina?, pie-Ic i'hsina2!' kiw-in4'haMA'86WinA. ta"?, inuh winah MAtej'2-awa'tuk as mdk-d'yit, lkAni'win niw ini's,ni tip&'h me~na'pus pis-nani'2tanahaMA'Sit. si'h awejh-Ik6'hnehkcun; pis-kd'?'ts-miAnati'tanm ayum me'2napuw9!' ta"?, me~na'pus winah e ki-meik-ndni'mit kM14iwin niw pis-nii'lkisitua2, kAtd'-piq-1c6'hnilkut. 'tititititititi'!1' ind'win; 'IcAn wi'nah kinua? Icinii'tawe 'rnmi~nne' - nuwawan. inn'? niw mdimi'ts k6'hnuwaw nd'tawe'nimak as a-pie1k6'hit.' ha"?, me'2napus mdk-pipi'm-ndni'mit, IkAni'win niwv ahp4'n Idi'hkinah, td'hpah5'nikcut s 1k6'Inilkut. ni"? lkeh, ahp4'n kcl'hki2&ah. 1c~td's icek niw ay&'wilc, icAniwin ni'w Ica'hkinah. we,'kiwAm m' pahtsilku'win; inisa"? wi'nah csni'nuh MAtsje'2-awa'tulkAn um4'2natih as i't. hda> titsj,'2napii'htsiket, d'yanapit, MA, nikut md'ts-Ama'8kUs si'was 'win misi, misi'lc apd'hsus, misi'lc kitii'miw, Misi'lc 'h~sipan, mzahwd'w, unii'wani1k, wj'yAk Icdh niw isg'kiwAk. hM'neh.3a~ye'h 1c&-nip-'kin alci'lkuh ahlca'nuh tsi-1kjs-k5'hnihtua?. hi', me~na'pue ei'yanapit, h5A, kAni'win nie Idi'k~h d'lkutik. mayii'minunii'pahtah, payd'kwAts ini'win utd'h rnAtse'-awa'tukc. nahu'w, neh&VmehsAl, 1kt.'hutamuwi'kun; kina-pimiil'tesi'.' iniwi'n-pih sa'?ye'h, umd"?tikWAn,?W'p; iniwin-pih teh qa'?yeh nayi'mit. ni'mit, kayg's-it, nih w~'p inih-pih umd'2tikuApih, 'hd'w, kWhutam6w.j'kun!' ta9, iniwi'n-pih Iceh sa'?ye'h nayi'mit, tsi.-nik'mit., 'hi yeh hiyeh hyeh hyd'.. hyd'~he he he, hyd Ahe he he!' inahaMA'8owin. ha"?, inuh MAt89'?-AWa'tuk iniwin d'ts. 4hdA, nikd'?tmMiAnd't~ite,ha'8k~Jc me"?inapu8; kAna'pats imi's as ahkcg'w as Ik's/kikeh imi'8 as pis-awejh-mv6'minan~ak.' ha"?, me'?napim wvinah we'htsita, niw, 'hya hya hya hya' hyg", hyd' hya hya. hya, hyd' hya hya hyal' indhamA'sowin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 185 "Dirty-gut, Come swallow me, Come swallow me, Come swallow me!" he kept singing. Where that evil spirit had its lair, suddenly right there opposite the door Me'napus came singing. "Bah, go swallow him; a most disagreeable noise is this Me'napus making as he comes hither." Then, as Me'napus was singing and singing, suddenly those creatures appeared, coming to swallow him. "Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut!" he said to them; "It is not you I want. It is your father and none other that I want to come and swallow me." Ho, while Me'napus was continuing to dance about there, suddenly it was the last he knew, as that being sucked him in and swallowed him. That was all, he knew nothing more. After a time, suddenly he became conscious. He made out the semblance of a house; in fact, he was in the evil spirit's stomach. When he examined the look of things, turning his gaze this way and that, there was a big elk there, and a deer, and a porcupine, and a raccoon, a wolf, a squirrel, in fact all kinds of living creatures. Some of those who had been swallowed a long time back were already dead. As Me'napus looked this way and that, over there hung something. When he looked at it more closely, it appeared that it was the evil spirit's heart. "Now then, little brothers, urge things on for me; we shall save our lives!'" Then he took his bow and arrow, and then he danced. He danced; he put the arrow on the bowstring, "Come, whoop it up for me!" And then he danced and sang, "Hye-hye-hye-hyah, Hyah-hy-hyhye-hye, Hyah-hye-hye-hye!" he sang. Hoh, what the evil spirit said was: "Me'napus is greatly nauseating me; I think I shall go to the edge of the earth and vomit him over it." But Me'napus kept right on, "Hya-hya-hya-hya-hyay, Hyah-hya-hya-hya, Hyah-hya-hya-hya!" he sang. 186 186Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ha', ni'?, ta'?, alci'lkuh ini's ayi'tua?, umii'wanik- taP lcVhutam6watsin, iniwi'n winah ap n&' s tas~hni'mit, 'si'ninik, si'nirnik, si'ninivk, si'ninik, si'ninilc, si'ninik, si'ninik!' ini'h-pih keh misi'k p&'pim-ni'rnit me'2napus wi'nah. 'hd'w, mini sa~ye'h as aw-pem5'taman y6'rn ut4'h,' jwd'hin mbe'?napus. ha?, iniwin keh s silku'Alcutekc inih uta'h,' pim6'ah. 'hdi'w,' iwd'hin, 'n5'hlkumeh umdi'yawisitimih imi'? s a-8d'hlkihsih a'yum; ini'2-naicah aw-is-mcttst'skcAt hm', iniwi'n keh s mdts~'skAt;- ini'win.s awMh-sdi'hkihsih. h4'w, weyAwelcehkco'hseh wi'nah, nipZ'w as tsi-nii'tilc, hA wiyAk isg'1kiw siwas i na'Spihsinin. ha'?, me'?napus, ni? wdh-1kehkc9'nawats8in aninuh 5'hkumd'hsAn. 'nuhk6'2, pi8-tawdi'sin ayu'm; imi'? aw-5'h-kits'2ta yak,' iwma'hin. ta'?., iniwi'n-pih inuh wj'yAwjlkehk5'hseh td'2sikan as awjhta'Usu'Atsin. hd'ta2, me~na' pus. 'nahd'kcits niw, nuhk6'?!' ind'win; 'kina-pe'?tesi'minaw,' - nahdlct'ts niw s a-ta'tUSU'Atsin. ta'?, iniwi'n Ikeh, inuh wi'yAwekehko'seh nahdldi'ts3 niw ta'tusu/Atesitua?. 'nahd'w, ta? Iki'nah tsiw-aw-is-tii'tua? pdima'tesitua?,Wi yAk nipg'w d'wih-mind'lkin, ini's niW siw a-ki'-y6 h-ut.'hpah6'nat s a-ki-W6hnat? kifspi'n kAn ne~ni'nan, lkAn wi'yAk, una-t&'nan peimd'tes8it.' ini'? keh tsi-k~s-ne~na'tsin; nji's niw inuh isg'kiw nipZ'w d'wihmind'kin, iniwi'n niw as ki-mu'atsin, k6'hnatsin. mni'? leek; ini'? md'waw. 74. ME'NA PUS GOES A -VISI TING. (mii'sinilk&'puwiw) ni'nah ap ninaw-d'te?n6'hkem nim*g'wah. naha'w, me?napu's lkeh wciwg'liwin; Wg'WAn ta'wAnin misi'k teh unitsi'AnehsAn, me?napus6'hsAlk. ha', nilk~t.d's niw as day'wilc, iniwi'n ga~ya'h me'?napus8, -naha'w, nitii'wats-isV'?tawjlkdm; nehsg'k nikii'taw-isi'?tawaw mama w.' ha'w, iniwi'n sa?ye'h mi'p s ma'tsiAt. payiAtdt't imis uhsg'mehsmn s8wj'kinit, iniwin s pi'hikawdi'tain mamd'wAn. ta'?, wil'nah ap inuh mdmd'w we w~n ta'wAni&n misi'l unitsi'Aneh8An. mdimd'hsAk. I Fist clapped into hand for shot. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 187 Now, some of those who were there, and in particular Squirrel, urged things on for him, and he too now danced there; "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick," he chanted for him; "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, sinninick, shinninick!" Now Me'napus himself danced close up there. "Now is when I shall shoot this heart of his!" said Me'napus. And that was where that heart pointed as it hung; he shot it, - zip! "Now then," he said, "at my grandmother's landing-place is where this creature will drift to shore; that is the direction in which it will go." And so that was the way it went; that was where it beached. As for the little old woman, as she was fetching water, why, there lay some kind of creature, bulking high. From where he was, Me'napus knew it was his grandmother. "Grandmother, come cut him open; that is the way we shall come out," he said. So then the little old woman went and started to rip it open with her knife. Then Me'napus, "Easy there, Grandmother," he called to her; "you will be cutting us if you aren't careful," - wanting her to cut it open more slowly. And then, the old woman cutting it more slowly, then through that opening came forth as many as were still alive. "Look you, how do you suppose there ever could be mortal men, if, whenever anyone went to drink water, right there you would always draw him in and swallow him? If I had not killed you, no mortal man would in future exist." So now he had killed it; whenever any living being, of whatsoeverkind, went to drink water, right there it had devoured him, swallowing him. So then, that is all. 74. ME'NAPUS GOES A-VISITING. (Masinikapuwiw) I too shall tell sacred stories a while. Well then, Me'napus lived in a place; he had a wife and children, the Little Me'napuses. Once upon a time Me'napus said, "Now then, I shall go visiting for a bit; I want to visit my little brother, Woodpecker." So then in the morning he set out. When he came to where his little brother dwelt, he entered Woodpecker's lodge. Now, Woodpecker, too, had a wife and children, the Little Woodpeckers. 1 88 Pubhlications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII na/u'w, iniwi'n-pih inuh mdmd,'w /cayi'kcitit: 'h&'w. wd'/citu/c teh,nd'p aw-ahsd'ma/cih j,'h-ayu,'m me2na'pus? nah&'wr. ini'h niuw d's niw!' ini's teh pi'hti/c ini'win $ ts'patsih me'2ti/c. iniwin 4i'hpakci'sit s?,w ni/cut /cutdi'2na" ii's iniwi'n s ti'taniwii'hi/cit md'mdw. nik~td'.s ibiw ayei'wi/c, kAniwi'n niw di'sipAnlAn tsi-y6'h-/cit&'/cutsimni'ni/c s k-itsq~idpina'tsin inuh md'mdw. ha'. inuh rndid'W W~'WAVl ini'win pimi' -ncawa'tinatsin anuh d'hsipAnAn, pimni-w~' nanih&'tsin, tsiMe '2napus. /cay~s-anih-mi'tsihsit, he'i', iniwin-pih ndipa'tua2. misi'/c wayi',pah, iniwin misi'/c d'nahsamih. /cay&s-anih-mi'tsihsit me '2napus, iniwin-pih undi'2nehs yAn ini's niwv tsJ'/capah iniwin niw piti'/cuhatsin; iniwin-pih teh mTaya'tsiAt. si/cAs ni'w ihpih i'nis payi'Atat, 'U' vinJ.'9nehs3i'Ak nipa'yanaXA/c! nipUAnimd'hsAk kAs nipitVu'A/cu/c." iniwi'n teh 6i'ts inuh mndi'me/iw: 'ini's, niuw w~h-y~h-'wd'pinanmu'hi~niw-in-pik wvayapi'tua2 a/cuh mdmd'h8Alk s awdi'tuwa'tua2 anuh unsi'2nehs y~m me'2naptus. iniwin teh niwi /d'taw-y~h-wd'pinamuWa tua9. 'j'2..j'9). iO. i'2, kcinaw-8d/c&'/und,'hsimawjI'WtA/! pi'neh/cun niw!' /cayijs-6t&'hpinA'tsin, 4tv&'pah /c6'hne2 /cAt pi'wv-eh imi's ni'/cinanua2; /cinu'asa2 s65'h pd~'h/cAteyei/.' waapah. iniwi'n-pih sa~ye'h mayd'tSiAt ha'8it mud'mciw, isi'O, tawatsin uirni'hSAn. /cjsd~'ts teh wi'nah /cis-nim-m5'sihewin, me'2napus. /cute'2nas we'winAfl tsi-kes-meh/ca'waw: ini'win teh s /cis-nikdki/skaha'tsin. /caye-s-pi'IAtdt teh i'nis wj'/c6wa?, iniwin-pih kay&sahpona'tsin; umA'S Uth UtSi'Aflih y5'w'in /c~s-kcd/utdi's/inanei'tsin/cayis-ninUAs/cine'nit, iniwin-pih mis di'2matsin ts~'/apah. ini'2 teh winah waydi'pah as pi'At ayah md'mdw, isi'2tawatsin me~napu'sun. ha'w, /cayi-s-tsiw-a'yapit, iniwin-pihk /ayi'/citit me'2napus8: 'k'w., uWki/itu/c teh nii'p aw-ahs&'ma/cih ayu~m nehsZ'h?' /cat6/ inuh me'2napus. Ihd'w, iniwin-pih s3a~ye'h /caydk~di'/itit. inih tdh md'mdw /ciw-ini'tah iniwin tdh dni'tah. imiwin-pih dhlcii'AJtawet inuh me'2mapus; ume'win tNh s /cis-aOna'sin nuh w~'w~nan utsi'Anih UMA 's. iniwin teh di'nim-ih/cu'aIhtawet; iniwin teh, as awdh-t&,'taniw4'hi/cet. ni/c~d's sa~ye'h uma'ma/cah ya'pits imni'na/cah kcihti'h/cilsini'mi/c, iniwin-pik pits-pa yi'ta/cutsih. utd'skutemuwa2 inis tsi/cis/cii'niah as ii'wi/c ayd'ts-pehk5c'wi/c, iniwimn s p&'pehtsik. hd'ta2?, 'ta`~ ayum d'8i~t.At?' jwd'hin inuh 1me'2mapus W9'WAfl. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 189 Then Woodpecker spoke up, "Now, I wonder what we can give this Me'napus to eat? Well, we'll do the best we can!" Inside the lodge there stood a tree. Woodpecker flung himself upon it, climbing up and screeching. Then, a ways up, Woodpecker took to hammering and drumming with his beak. After a while, all at once a raccoon popped out of that place, and Woodpecker yanked it free. Then that wife of Woodpecker's arose and picked up that raccoon and cleaned it and went to cook a meal. When she had finished cooking, then Me'napus was served a meal. After he had eaten, they slept. The next morning he was fed in the same manner. When Me'napus had eaten, he laid his mittens under something, there close by the wall of the lodge; then he departed. When he had gone a little ways, "Hey, I have left my mittens! Have my nephews bring them to me!" Then Woodpecker said, "Go throw them to him from over there!" Then the Little Woodpeckers ran to take Me'napus' mittens to him. From over there they were going to toss them to him. "Up-up-up-up-up! You will make a frightful mess of them!1 Bring them all the way!" When he had received them, "I should like your father to come to our house tomorrow; after all, it is you folks who really go hungry!" Then, on the next day, Woodpecker set out to return Me'napus' visit. Me'napus had anticipated his coming. He must have found a pair of deer-horns somewhere; and then he had sharpened them. When he got home, he had nicely shaped them; then he had kept fitting them like this, into his nose. When they fitted well, he laid them down by the wall. So now, on the next day came Woodpecker, to visit Me'napus. When he had been seated, Me'napus spoke up, "Now then, what can we give my little brother here to eat?" Now, over yonder had stood a cut-off tree-stem, and Me'napus had brought it inside the lodge. And now he began to screech. He made the kind of noise the woodpecker always makes. Then Me'napus climbed up; he had stuck those horns into his nose there. Then he climbed up; and up there he hammered and drummed. Soon, when the horns had pushed, by stages, far into him there, he suddenly came tumbling down. By the fire, right at the hearth, as far as the ashes lay, he fell. "What is he doing?" said Me'napus' wife. An unusual word is used in this formula; the present-day meaning seems to be, "You will bring them down with injury on the snow"; originally it meant "You will break their backs." ill-,)O 1~)O Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwin teh 8 ldiki'2tinamuwa'tsin anin'uh wWeenAn. naw~nii'hsihsih iniwi'n-pih aydi'piskAt me'2napus. pits-6n.'win. '&'. ini'? keh kiw-i8~'kiyen ayu,'m -s ki-kAtii-p6'tawet!'" ind'win ani'nuh umd'tim6'h8eMAn. ha'w, iniwin-pih teh inuh mdi'mdw pdt'mi-ihku'ahtawet, kdkCt'kitit; wih-tAniwd.i'hike'win inis; nawinii'hsihsih kAni'win niw payi'takutsih di'hSipAn. ha'w, iniwin keh mi'w-uta'hpinatsin me'2napu8 WVC'WAnh, wE'nanihdi'ts8in, mi'tsihsitua2, kayE,3-k1ci'sii'Ahkcit. wAyd'pah misi'k iniwin ni misi' k d'nahtsikdi'tua2. kayi,,s-ani'h-mi'tsihsitua2, iniwi'n-pih maya,'t8iAt mdt'maws 8k1'w.dt, hii'w, nik~td's Misik iniwi'n a/t8 me~na'pu8; 'nalu'w, pas nikeisi8V'2taw~ke'm; n~ehsg'h un&'wanilk ninaw-is~'tawaw.' ifl$wsfl keh 8 ma'tsiAt. ha'w, payi'Atat, pi'htikawe~i'sn uh89'meh,8An, hd'w, naw~nd'hsihsih ay&'wik, iniwin di'ts unii'wanilc: 'hi', wei'kituk tdh mi'p awla1hsd'makih ayum me'2napus? huow, nih niw d's niw, nip.~'w aki~t6'h ahkdi'hkuh!' kay~s-ak~ct5'nik unii'wanik umd'tem6'hseMAn, ~nah&'w, uhkii'nih pi't~h!' irnd'win ani'nuh umdtem6'hseMAn. iniwin-pih sa~yah kayiiki'kitit un&'wanik; nik5'tds niw ay&'wik iniwin-~pih sa~ycsh as pimi'-ahku'ahtawe'pahtuk utsi'pa1&IwAna' htikuwa'?. inis tipii'h inuh ahkd'h as cak6'tsih, iniwi'n s aw~'h-apj't. nik6tdf's niw aya'wik, iniwin-pih inih uhk&'nih pdihpdi'sipahu'tsin ninuh und'2siwayan. nim&'2, mAn6'mehl wdhtsitsa kii'2tin8&iakwdpihne'nin inih MAno'meh; ahldi'hkuk teh iniwin 8 pM~tspi'tdk. h&'w, iniwi'n kd'h mi-pine'2tAt undi'wanik. inct'sinamuwcd'win ani'nuh Undi'tiM6'hseMAn inih uhka'neh. h&'w, ini? sa~yeh nik6't& s U8 k'itik inih MAno'meh; iniwi'n-pih a hsamih me"?napus as rni'tsihsit. h&'w, wayd'pah misi'k iniwi'n niw Misi'k d'nahsamih mi'p. h&'w, ini?,sa2dh misik s td-kj'wdit, und'?nehsyAfl ts'kapah iniwi'n as -a'?natsin. iniwin-pih tdh maya'tsiAt. 8kA8 nj' hpih ini'8 pay yA'tat, YIh, nnii'?nehsiAk ni'pa-'yAnawAk! niput'AniMa'h8Ak PA5nipitu'Akuk!' iniwi'n tdih Oi's inuh una'wAnik: 'ini's niw wMh-y5'h-wdipinam5'hkun!' iniwin-pih mayatsyA'tua? uniiwanik6'hs8Ak; iniwvin teh niw 8kA8 ni'w ihspih kd'taw-y~h-wdi'pincam6wa'tua?. 'i20', i', i', kina-sdkii'kund'hsiMAWa'WAk! pi'nehkun niw!' kayjs-utdi'hpina'tsin: 'wd'pah k6hne'2 kAts pi'w-eh ni'kinanua2; kinu'asa? s6'h J/i'hkAte'ydk,' iniwi'n dnii'tsin. d', sa~yd'h WAya'pah, '&, n&'s kAt keh ninaw-i'siAmn,' Zwd'hin und'wanik. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 191 Then she pulled those horns, one after another, out of his nose. After a little while, Me'napus came to. He rose from where he lay. "Yes, of course, that is the way things go with me, whenever this person is about to make her fire!"' he said of his wife. Then Woodpecker went and climbed up and screeched; he hammered up there; after a little while suddenly a raccoon fell forth. Then Me'napus' wife went and picked it up, skinned and cleaned it, and when her cooking was done, they ate. The next morning they had another meal of it. After they had eaten, Woodpecker departed for home. Then again, one day, Me'napus said, "Well now, I ought to be going on a visit; I shall go visit my little brother, Squirrel." So then he set out. When he got there and had entered his little brother's lodge, then after a little while, Squirrel said, "Well, what can we give Me'napus here to eat? Well, try this, anyway; hang up a kettle of water." When that wife of Squirrel's had hung it up, "Now bring the awl!" he bade his wife. Then Squirrel began to chatter; then, at one time, he went over and climbed at a run up on the frame of their cooking-place. He squatted right above where the kettle hung. Then, suddenly, with that awl he jabbed his testicles. Lo and behold, wild-rice! Really and truly, that rice poured out in a steady flow; into the kettle it streamed. Then Squirrel came down. He handed the awl to his wife. Then, in time, when the rice was cooked done, Me'napus was served a meal. The next morning, early, he was fed in the same way. And then again, when he was about to go home, he laid his mittens down by the wall. Then he departed. When he had gone a certain distance, "Hey, I've leftmymittens! My nephews can bring them to me!" Squirrel said, "Toss them over to him from right out there!" Then the young Squirrels went; and from a little distance they were going to throw them to him. "Up-up-up-up-up! You will damage them frightfully! Bring them right here!" When he had taken them, "Suppose your father comes to our house tomorrow; after all it is you who really suffer from hunger," he said to them. So, on the next day, "Well, I guess I might as well go there," said Squirrel. 1 Sc. "out of doors"; the usual expression for the menses. t 9 -4.) 92Publications. American Ethnological Societ,~y Vol. XII cl', payyA'tat 8a?ya'h ini's rne'2napus~ w~'kih, pi'htikawd't-sin, a'yapit mnis und'wanik, hiiw. iniwi'n sayeh me'2napus s 1ki'kitit. 'hd'w, wdkitu'k tdh nap aw-ahsa,-'makih nehsj'h?' ind,'win ani'nuh 'we'wAn; 'nahaT'wv. inih niwv d's niwl. nip~'w ak65't~h!"' ind'wvin ani'nuh 'IW'WAn. iniwi'n teh d'lut ani'nuth 'We'WAn: k'.Iam i'nab, ayu'n kd'lk tsi-kUs-awAh-nd'wikc~w!' '&hWh',?vdwj'pi~tah!f naha'w, iniwin-pih p&'mi-alc6't6Ik inuh mbitd'muh inih nip~'w kcayes-Aloto'nik inih nipj'w, 'nahd'w, uhkd&'neh inih pi'toh!' ind' - wvin ani'nuh md'tem6'hs3eMAn. kay&s-rn'nikut inih uhkId'neh, ini'win-pih sa~yeh kaydlkd'lkitit me'2napus. inih tek unni'wanik lkiw-ini'tah iniwi'n dni'tah. nilc~td',s sa~yeh tsipd'hlkwand'htik~wdw inih iniwin dhpalki'sit; iniwin niw kcfki'seh niw s anAWi'hisit lkAta'w-ihlku'ahtawet. w~'1ki keh nap minu 'Apiwin ini's inuh ahlkd'h as ak6'tsih. ho'w, iniwin teh s lkdkd'lkitit. lc6'tds niw ay&'wik, iniwin-pih sa~yeh pd'hpasipaha'tsin ani'nuh und,'2siWAyAn. mei'2. mehlci'h sj'kciputd'win! (jA, tag um a'Si~tAt?' ~wj'hin me'9napus IW'WAn; 'kiw~'nahkami'lkisim!' ind'winb. niik~td's ni'w ayd'wik, kAniwin ni payi'tAkutsih me'?napus. tsi'kiskuniah iniwi'n s d'nitsinikjci'sih. naw~n&'hsihsih miw-unj' win. 'dy6'? keh kiw-is~'kiyen as ki-kAtd-p5'tawvet ayu'm. ni'md'tem6'hsem!' P ~wd'hin. h&'w. iniwi'n-pih kayi'kitit und'wanik: T.i /kayd'nit alcdt6'h niiniwvin-pih nd'tutamuwa'ts8in inih ahkd'nih. dhku,'ahtawe'pahtuk und'wanilk mis tsipd'IhkWAnd'htikuh tip&'h inuh as akcd'tsih ahldi'h, iniwi'n-pih pdhpd'sipahii'ts3in nuh und~si'wayan. nimd'2, mAnO' meh! ahkd'hkuh teh iniwi'n s p~'htsipitdk- inih MAn5'rneh. nahA'w, iniwi'n keh nd'p s mi'tsihsitua2. WAya'pah iniwin ni' misik d'naht~gikd't~ua2. kaye-s-anih-mi'tsihsitua9 mi'p. iniwin kdh s L~ 'wdt und' - wanik. hd'w, nilcdtd'8 misik iniwin d'ts me'2napus: 'nahii'w, pa's nikisisi'2tawvikdm; sikd'k nehs'h ninaw-i8V'tawaw,' iwii'hin me'2napu~s. iniwi'n Iceh s wd'p~hnet. hdiw, iniwin sa~eh s pyA'tdt, pihtilcawd'tsin uhsj'mehsAn. hd'w, iniwi'n teh d'ts 3ik&'k, s3 k~Ikitutawa'tin ani'nuh wg'wAfl, ~wi'kituk teh nap aw-cahsd'makih me'2napus? nahd.'w. inih niw a's niwv, pd'hkihtd'hnitulh inih sku'Ahtem!' iniwin-pih sa? yeh pti'mi-pd'hkihtd'hnituk. iniwi'n teA s awMAmd'skitsi'hsih; irniwi'n teh alcu'AtsiA d'sitstjAkd'hgih. iniwi'n-pih tdh kayd'htanA'Mit. nimd'2, apei'hsusulk misa's niw sehk~'hsinukin! Ad'w, iniwi'n keh sikii'k wj'wAn, Ad', nikut ani'nuh awjh-wg'nanihii'tsin, tsipii'hkit. iniwi'n keh s kd~ts8-mi'tsi~sit me'9,napvu8. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 193 When Squirrel had reached Me'napus' lodge and had entered and was sitting there, then Me'napus spoke up. "Now then, what shall we give my little brother to eat?" he asked his wife; "Well, at any rate, hang up some water!" he told his wife. But his wife answered him, "There this fellow goes again! I daresay he has been off seeing somebody do something or other!" "Oho, just you hurry up!" So then the woman set to work and hung up the water. When she had done so, "Now bring that awl!" he told his wife. When she had given him the awl, Me'napus began to chatter. He made the noise a squirrel always makes. Then, at a certain moment, he flung himself at the cooking-frame of their hearth; but then, clumsily, he failed to climb up. At last, with much trouble, he did manage to squat where the kettle was hanging. There he kept chattering. Then, at one time, he jabbed his testicles with the awl. Oh, the blood streamed forth! "Dear me, what is this person doing?" cried Me'napus' wife; "You are making a dirty mess all over the place!" she said to him. But shortly, all of a sudden Me'napus toppled and fell. By the edge of the hearth he lay, face up. After a little while he arose. "Yes, this is the way it always goes with me, when this wife of mine is about to make her fire!" he said. Then Squirrel spoke, "Well, hang up some fresh water!" Then he asked him for the awl. Squirrel climbed at a run up the cooking frame, right above where the kettle hung, and then pierced his testicles. Lo and behold, wild-rice! Into the kettle streamed that rice. So then at last they had their meal. On the next day they ate the same kind of food. When they had eaten breakfast, Squirrel went home. Then, once upon a time, again Me'napus said, "Well now, it is time I had been paying some visits; I shall visit my little brother, Skunk," said Me'napus. So then he started out walking. Soon he arrived and entered his little brother's lodge. Then said Skunk, addressing his wife, "But what shall we give Me'napus to eat? Well, we shall do what we can; just open the door!" Then she went and opened it. He went there and crouched on all fours; he crouched with his backside pointing out of the door. Then he pressed his wind. Lo and behold, deer lay everywhere! Thereupon Skunk's wife went and skinned and cut up one of them, and cooked a meal. So then Me'napus had a big dinner. 13 194 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vot. XII hd'ta2, way&'pah mi'p iniwin dn&'tsin siki'k ani'nuh uOnd'hsAn, 'nahd'wv, kikdi'taw-me~'nin keh nis65'hkeh as 4'wik, me~napu,'s. nah~t'w, mdtskit st'h~ih teh!' kayes-maiskitsqi'hsine'nik, iniwi'n-pih teh y6'm di'nisa'muwatsin s ki'a~tesa'mwatsin inih uts'h. kay&s-mi'Akunam~wa'tsin, iniwinpih teh inis ni's3-inuh d8s-pd'kitit inuh sikdi'k. kayjs-yd'h-a~tuwd?'tsin inih utsj'h s k-ipd'nuham~wa'tsin, 'hd'w, ini'?, me'?napu8,. nis6'hkeh kimj'nin,' ind'win aninuh u,?nd'hsAn. h&d'wv, iniwi'n-pih teh may&'tsiAt me'2napus8. tfnd'?nehsiAn iniwin niw wdhtsihkand~'tsin. sikAs8 ni' hpih payyA'tdt, `ct'h, nina'9nehSiAk nipa'yanawAlk; nipu'Animd'hSAk JCAS nipitU'Akuk!' 'ini's niw aw~h-y~h-w&'pinam,5'hkun!' ind'win inuh sikii'k. iniwin sa~yd'h waydpi'tua2 aki'kuh -sikdk6'hs8Ak; iniwi'n niw kdi'taw-y5'h-wdpinam~wa'tua?. 'i'2,Ii'2, i', j'! kina-8dkcdkundu'hsiMAW&'WAk! pi'nehkun niw!' kay~s-MAMd'tin anuh unii'?nehsiAn, 'wii'pah kAts pi'w-eh k6'hne2. kinu'asa? s6'h pd'hkAte'ydk,' inet'win aninuh upuAnimd'h8An. hd'w, iniwin keh wayd'puhnet me'?napus s kN'wdt. nik-tci's niw as m'ik-pii'pimd'hnet, iniwi'n dnd'nihtah, 'hi'nituk Icd'2tin as a-k~s-mj'sit ay6 nehs~h,' ind'nihtAmin. k~td's8niw s mdk-pim6'hnet, md'ts-askii'h tsj'pa'tsinin imi's kutd'?net. 'nah&'w, pinath nitd'watts-kuts'?tAM!' inuh askd'h mins s ts~patsih, iniwi'n di'Sitsjhkdt'?tAt me'?napus. iniwi'n-pih kaya'htAna'mit. nim&'2, pd'hpis8~' nii'sihsinin inuh md'ts-askdh! 4h5A, kd'?tin keh niw nisdiiwdnimikusah nehsIh! iwd'hin me'?napus. h&'w, iniwi'n keh misi'k way4'puhnet. nik~td's. niw misi'k, kAniwi'n niw, Md"ts-asan. 'hdA nit6k 1ki'tin as a-kjs-mj'sit nis&'hkeh ay6'w nehsdh!' ind'nihtA'min misilc. iniwin sa?ye'h misik ini'nakah s is~tsihkd'?tAt. iniwi'n-pih misik kayd,'htanamit; nim&tA?, inuh a'2sen pd'hpisiW pikwAp~'win! 'uwd', ii'? keh; ldi'?tin keh niw nisdwd'nim~'ko~ah nehsj'h!' ~wd'hin me'?napus. hd'w, iniwi'n-sa~yah-pih mayd'tsiAt mis8i'k s kVwdtt. di', kayjs-pytA'tdt wj'kih, hd'W, set?yeh wayd'peth, 'hd', nd's8kAt keh nina W-iSiAM!' ~wci'hin sikd'k; 'ninaw-isi'?tawaw me '?naps8.' payiAtet't mnis me'2napus iW'kih s ii'yapit, k6'td8 niw ayd'wik, kikitutatwe'win ani'nuh we'WAn me'2napus. iniwi'n dn&'tsin: 'ha', wa'kituk teh ndt'p aw-ahsd4'makih nehs~h? 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 195 The next morning Skunk said to his big brother, "Now then, I am going to give you two charges of powder, Me'napus. Well, squat down on all fours." When the other had got on all fours, he cut out his anus for him, like this, cutting round it in a circle. Skunk lifted it out and then twice broke wind into that place. "There you are!" he told him; "There!" He put back the other's anus, covering up the place, and then, "All right now, Me'napus, I am giving you two charges," he told his big brother. Then Me'napus took his leave. Of course he went off without his mittens. When he had gone a little ways, "Eh, I've left my mittens; won't my nephews bring them to me?" "Go throw them to him from right over there!" Skunk told them. Then the little Skunks ran off; they wanted to toss them to him from right close by. "Up-up-up-up-up! You will make a frightful mess of them! Just you bring them right here!" When he had taken his mittens, "Won't your father come tomorrow? After all, it is you folks who really suffer hunger!" he said to his nephews. So now Me'napus started walking homeward. At one time, as he walked along, he reflected; "I wonder if this little brother of mine did really give me that," he thought. After a while, as he walked on, there in some place stood a big pine-tree. "Well, let me just take a try!" Where that pine-tree stood, thither did Me'napus turn his rear end. Then he pressed his wind; lo and behold, on the instant that big pine-tree came down flat. "Why, what do you think of that! So my little brother did really give me a precious gift!" said Me'napus. Then he started walking again. Soon again, there was a huge boulder. "I wonder if this little brother of mine really did give me two charges!" he thought again. So now again he levelled his buttocks that way. Again he forced his wind. Lo and behold, at once that rock lay in splinters. "Wow, it's really so! My little brother really did take pity on me!" said Me'napus. Then he again set out for home. When he had reached his lodge, then, on the next day, Skunk said, "Well, suppose I go there; I shall visit Me'napus." When he had come there, and was sitting in Me'napus' lodge, then at one time, Me'napus spoke to his wife. This is what he said to her, "I wonder, what can we give my little 13* 196 196 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII nah&d'w, inih niw d's niw, pd'hlkihtd'hnit~h. inih sku,'ahtem!' ind'win aninuh umd'tim.'hsemnAn. 'hA kami'nah winah aynt'm lcd.'lkh tsi-kjs-awijh-nd'wik-5w,' iku'ahin aninuh umd,'tim6'hseMAn. 'h~h6', wdw~pi~tah!' ind'win aninuh VMd'tiM6'hseMAn. hd'w, iniwi'n keh s awjh-pd'hkihtd'hnitukc. iniwi'n sa? ye/h me'?napus kay&s-pi'minah 'utd'siyen, iniwi'n teh d'wih-is~'tsihkcd'hs8ih aku'Atsih ini'nakah. iniwin-pih kayd'htAna'mit: j'?, kawi'n nap u~w'hkihtu'nan. iniwin keh s tasj'kit, kdl-d'htana'mit; ahk6?8i'k niw kAniwi'n niw payd'pehneh inih umi'h s Mj'8~t. kayjs-tdp-m~',sjt, mi-ni'pi~tawin. 'd'h, y6'? keh niw kiw-is~'kiyen ~'h-ayum s ki-kAtd'w-p6'tawet!' ind'win ani'nuh UMd'tiM6'hsmAn. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih pd'mim-ni'pi~tAt innuh mitii'muh, me'?napus, We'WAn, s awjh-paki'tah mini mi'h. tsihkd'?tAt inis aku,'Atsihi. kayd'htana'mit, mdA2?, misAs ni' 8ehUc'hsinu' kin pd'hs3usulk! nah~d'w. 'ini'?!' ind'win; 'nikut inn/i awj/i-wj'nanihiin as a-mi'tsihisiydk!f' ind'win ani'nuh w~'nimun. iniwi'n keh mdmi'tsihsitua?. wayd'pah teh iniwi'n-pih kayjskj'wd~t inu,'h siklCk. mni? ldh d'hwAtsiMi'yen. icAni' misik nik6'tds. ini'?. 75. ME'NA PUS VISITS HIS LITTLE BROTHER, THE WOODPECKER. (nehtsi'wihtvuk) nahd'w, me'?napus, wdwj'kiw; Wj'WAn un~ti'AnehsAn ta'WAn. me~napu'-s as8 pahpj'sqit, kAn kd'k6Ih und'?tunan. uma'2tikUAn wj'pafl k&~-Us8~'htaw, as3 kAtd'w-ne?nA'tsin mAnato5'wAn. hd'w, mi'p ini? as Ma'tsiAt s pahp~'sit. nawind'2s d'[pehtaw-tepei'hikan as8 pi'Atat, ini? as ndwd'tsin apd'huswun. 'hd'w, nilcd'taw-pimu'aw.!' ini? dnd'nihtah. nawindhd'tsin, ke~tsi'h s pi'Atdt, ini? sa?yd'h umd'?tikUAn we'p s 1kAta'W-piMU'atsin as fi'Akut ani'nuh apd'hisuun. se, n~na 2, ta'? td/i wi'nak as IkAtd'w-ne?sj'yan? kina-kitd'ma/iim!' ind'w. 4WLA, nehs~'h kitd'm-kitei'mahin; ini'? keh kd'?tin! nahd'w, ninap6'ni?tam,' ind'w me?napu,'s, pd'hsus8 s Md'tiAt. me~napu,'8 pU'AWi~taw; w~'WAn pu'AWi~tawan; unitsi'AnehsAn p'AWi~taWAn. /id'w, mdtsi', misik pahpj'sgit. misi'lk awd'hSAn ini-ndwd'tsin kutd.'?nas, 'hd'IW., nina-ne'?naw!'ini? dn~d'ni/itah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 197 brother to eat? Well, at any rate, throw open the door!" he said to his wife. "Yes, there he goes again; no doubt this person has been off seeing someone or other do something!" his wife said to him. "Now! Just you hurry!" he answered his wife. So then she went and hung open the door-flap. Thereupon Me'napus twisted aside his breech-clout and then went and lay with his backside pointing out of the door. Then he pressed his wind; ho, he could not do it at all. So there he kept at it, forcing his breath; finally there fell some of his dung. When he was thus relieved, he got up on his feet. "Yes, of course, this is the way things go with me, when this person is about to make her fire!" he said of his wife. Then that woman got up, Me'napus' wife, and removed that dung. Then Skunk in turn arose and went and turned his buttocks to the door. When he forced his wind, lo and behold, everywhere lay deer! "There we are!" he said to her; "Take one and prepare it, so that you may have a meal," he told his sister-in-law. So then they had a plentiful meal. On the next day Skunk went home. That is as far as my story goes. Some other time I shall tell more. That is all. 75. ME'NAPUS VISITS HIS LITTLE BROTHER, THE WOODPECKER. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Well, Me'napus lived somewhere; he had a wife and children. When Me'napus hunted, he killed not a thing. He had made himself a bow and arrows, to kill game-animals. Now, one morning he went out to hunt. When he had gone perhaps half a mile, he came upon a deer. "Well, I shall shoot it," he thought. He crept up to it, and, when he had got near, wanted to shoot it with his bow and arrow, when the deer caught sight of him. "Fie, Big Brother, do you really mean to kill me? You will be the undoing of me!" it said to him. "Why, Little Brother, I had nearly brought you to ruin; it is the very truth! Well, well, I shall stop," Me'napus told it, and the deer went away. Me'napus was hungry; his wife was hungry; his children were hungry. He went on, to hunt some more. When somewhere on his way he came upon a bear, "Well, 1 shall kill it," he thought. 198 198Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Matsi'At, nawindhd'tin, ke~tsi'h ~payi'Atat, ini'2 sa~yeh IcAtd'wpimu'atsin, ini'2 as fli'A/Cut. gseA, me~nap65A8, ne~na'h, tsi'MikAt ts3i-1Ata'W-piim'YAn! kina'WdA, nehsW', kit&'m-kit&VmaIhin!' nah&'w, awd~'hseh ini28 sMe'tiAt. hd'w, misi'lc matsi'w. Idi~tsi'h misi'lc ii'? s ndiwd'tsin am&'skutsun. 'h&'w, nina-ne'2naw,' indi'nihtAm. Ma'tiAt, nawinahdi'tsin, Idi~tsi'h payi'Atat, ini? sa~yd'h, s kAtd'wVpimu'atsin. h&'w, ii? as fli'Alkut. ~s&,h, me'?nap6's, nAn&'?! p5;ni?tdi'h! kina-kitd,'mahim!' 4wd nehs~'h, kitd'm-kitd'mahin! hd'w, nina-p6'ni~tam!' nah&'w, am&'skus mni? as ma'tSiAt; ay6Iu3'piw,. pim&'tesit. hd'w, me?napu,'s ini-ma'tSiAt, pahp~'sit, hii'w, as pi'AtWtt ini'? s nawa'tsin se'?sipAn nipi'hih; &,usd'mat. 'hd'w, nina-ne'?nawAlk!' nawi~ndih'tsin, ke?tsi'h pi'Atdt, ma'wati'?tAtua? aki'lkukh s'?8ipAk, h&'w, ini'?, tdi-pimu'atsin, ini'? as ni'Akut. ch me?nap6',s, ne?nli'h, po6'ni'?tah! kina-kitdi'mahiminaw,!' Cj nehs~mehsp~k, kit&'m-kitdi'mahinine'MUAwI! h&'w,. nina-p6'ni?tAm!' hd' sW?sipAk mdtsi'wvlc, w&.'?naw. h&' me?napu,'s mdtsi'w, W~wdt. lkAn kd'lcdh upit6nAn wj'kih; pu,'AWi?taw; wj'wAn pu,'AWi?ta'WAn; unitsi'AnehsAn p'U'AWi?taWAn; lkAn lka'koh umi'tsihswAn. hd'w, Wj'wAn ini? dndi'tsin: 'hi', pahpeni'8iwAk! kipu'Awi?ta?. nahii'w, wa'pah ninaw-isi'Am nehsj'lh as we'kit,' ina'w Wj'WAn. nah&'w, way&'pah mi'p matsi'w, m'imd'w we'kih; ini? a's yAt, ulhsi'mehsAn. payi'Atiit, ini? s pi'htiket mdimd'w wvj'kih. hd'w, mdim&'w ini? 4'ts We'wAn: 'h&'Iw, tsip&'hlkinun, nip~'w nii'tih; me?napu's a-mj'tsihs~w,' irndi'w we WAn. mitd'mu~h utdi'hkehkun utd'hpinew, nipZ'w as ndi'tik. kay&s-pi't~k, ini? s ak~ndi'tsin utei'hlcehkun s p6'tawet. ma maw ini'?-pih nayViPiOtW. nand'lcuhtiah, w~'lkih pi'htilc, ini'win as ts~patsih me?na'hlcus~w me?ti'lk. mdi'mdw ani'win 1c6'tapAmii'tsin, lci'kitit, as ahku,'ahtawet. spdi'myah ini's payi'Atat, ini'win Iki~kikah&'tsin mii'maw'. nik56'tds ldi'h niw ay&'wilc, lcani'win niw pits-kitii'kutsih di'hsipAn; ahlci'hih ini'win s p&'pehtsil& mdi'ts-4'hsipAn. Md'u, iniwi'n-pih misi'lc a'hsepAn; ahkihih ini'win s pii'pehtsih md'ts-i'hsi pAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 199 He went on, he sneaked up to it, and when he had got near, he was about to shoot it, when it saw him. "Fie, Me'napus, Big Brother, it really seems that you want to shoot me! You will be the undoing of me!" "Why, Little Brother, I had almost brought you to ruin!" So then the bear went away. Again he started off. Again after a little ways, he saw an elk. "Well now, I shall kill it," he thought. He went on, he stole up to it, and when he got near, he was about to shoot it. Then it caught sight of him. "Fie, Me'napus, Big Brother! Stop! You will be the undoing of me!" "Why, Little Brother, I had almost brought you to ruin! Yes, I shall stop." So then the elk went away; it whooped with joy because it had kept its life. Now Me'napus walked on, a-hunting, and when he got to a certain place he saw some ducks in the water, oh, a great number. "Well now, I shall kill them!" He stole up on them, and when he got near to where those ducks were assembled, he was about to shoot them, when they caught sight of him. "Hey, Me'napus, Big Brother, stop! You will be the undoing of us!" "Why, Little Brothers, I had almost brought ruin upon you! Yes, I shall stop." Well, the ducks went away, far away. Me'napus went on, returning home. Not a thing did he bring to the lodge; he was hungry; his wife was hungry; his children were hungry. He had no food. Then he said to his wife, "Well, we are in a sorry plight! We are hungry. Tomorrow I shall go to my little brother's house," he said to his wife. So then, the next morning he went to Woodpecker's house; that was where he went, to his little brother's. He reached the place and entered Woodpecker's lodge. Then Woodpecker said to his wife, "Now then, do your cooking; fetch water; Me'napus shall eat," he told his wife. The woman took up her kettle and went for some water. When she had brought it, she hung up her kettle and built the fire. Then Woodpecker rose from his seat. At the rear end, within the lodge, there stood a great dead tree. Woodpecker dashed up to it and cawed as he climbed it. When he had got up aloft, Woodpecker broke it with his beak. Then after a time, suddenly there came tumbling out a raccoon; to the earth fell a large raccoon. Then again he hacked open the tree; and suddenly soon another raccoon came tumbling out; to the earth fell a large raccoon. 200 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hdiw, ii'9!' iwd'hin mama wl, pinj'2tAt. unn'piwvin uta'htaniht. nahd'w, mitd'muh at~it'hPi new ahsipa'nAn; slcftiWah iviwt 'n as aOnA'sin, wdwj')su'atsin, C~Ikdiskaha'tsin, pi~niha'sin. nayi's kay~sp~'nj~hatsin, ini'win-pih ahkd'hlkuh pay~ndi'tsin, tsip&'hkit, m&i'wa ni' niwl. h&'w, &ni`win kayi's-kisisi'Ahkit, as akUAn.?i'sin utii'hkehkun mitd 'muh. md 'ts3-una-'kan ut& 'kpina'min;?utd 'riskwAn ukt 'hpina'min. hI'w myi'wa niw alhsipA'nAn ini'win s a~na'ts~in un7'kanih; na6p md'wva niwv ini'win s sWkinah. h&'w,, ydhpi'ts m-'slcine'win mini unc'kan; ma't8-me~tik-und'kan &' wiwvin. 'h&'w!' ind'uin kd'2t-s-indfini'AIAmAf. h&'w, mamd'w ini'win d'ts: 'hd'w, indisina'muwin me~nap6's; kAts mj'tsihs5'w,' ind'winWe'WAn. mitd'mu~h in4'sina'muwld'win me~napu 'sun, as mi 'ts8ihsi nit. nim&'2, me~na'pus pU,'AWi~taw; wdi'htsitaw ini 'win ndiski'n as pim&'tesit, as mi'tsihsit. md'wa niw kitdmi'wvin dhsipa'nan, ni's as mu'atsin. nap6'p m&'wa niw minu'ahin me~napu's. kat'?ts-mi'tsihsit, wj'wan kAn umi,'hkawe 'nimAnAn; unitsyA 'nehSAn kAn umdi'hkawe 'nimAnAn. nahdi'w, ini'win-pih me~napu's, kay~'wdt, und'2ne~hsiAn ini' win s paydine'tsin. mdm&'h8Ak miAna'tsi~t.,-tua?, ini'win s ndwi'tua? me~napus undi'?nehsiAn. utd'hpinewin i'nuh mdimd'hseh. 'nuhnt' 2, me~napit's un&' 2nehsiAn pay'nd' 'w!' tsi'AnehsMn. h&u', mdtmd'hseh mdts3i' win. 'hi', me~nap6's, k.-ina'?neh kip&'yAn&'w!' ind'win. me~na'pus8 naldi'?tawin, tsi'2napumd'tsin. 'he,", pisi'n!' ind' win me~napu,'s. h&'w, mdm&'w wdp~'win s awMh-mjnd'tsin un&'2nehSiAn. 'hJ'w, wii'pah mi'p kAts pi'w-eh lc~hne'? imi's s wi'Ikiyan. "kindt~mi'k me~nap5's," kinawi-~nd'w k6'hne?,' ind' win. '6A'7' jwd'hin mama w. lc~wd't, payi'Atat, ini'win dnd'tsin h6'hnAn: 'nuhn 4A?, kinii'tumilk me~napu,'s: "'wa'pah kAts pi'w-eh& njkinan6'2," kitd'kuah.' '5A!' iwd'hin mama w. nahd'w, me~napu's payi'Atat w~'kih, hd'w, kAn lkd'k~h upit6na~n; we w~n units yA'nehs3An pul'Awi~tawan. hd'w, me~napu,'s utd'ninapeh ini'win-pih wdtii'hpinah s sd'kit6'hnet w~'kih, nAtondha'tsin me~ti'kwAn. hd 'w, ini'win as ndwii'tsin mdi ts-me~ti'kw.,-n, me~nii'hlcus5 -wAn. ini' win as kNskaha'tsin, kawdhd'tsin. hdi'w, ini'win-pih misi'k inih wt~'k dnispi'keh, ini'win dhku'ahkuhA'tsin ani'nuh md'ts-me~nd'hkus~w-metikwAn. hd'w, kaye8-keskaha'tsin, ini'win-pih me~napu,'s h&aspinA'sin. lui, ndskdi'n kit~skine'win ani'nuh me~ti'kwAn. hd'w, s awdtnd'tsin wj'kih, piAtd'wiha'tsin, nimdA2, ini'win as tsipana'tsin ani'nulh me~ti'kWAn. hd'ta2, mtd 'muh y6'win niw dind-puma'tsin ukd~t8-indni'AMAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 201 "There, that will do!" said Woodpecker, descending. He sat down on his settee. Then the woman picked up the raccoons; she placed them in the fire to singe them; she scraped them and cleaned them. When she had cleaned them both, she set them to boil in the kettle; cooking them entire. Soon she had finished her cooking, and took them out of the kettle. She picked up a large bowl; she picked up her spoon. Then she put all the raccoon into the bowl; she poured all the broth into it. Entirely full was the bowl; it was a large wooden bowl. "All right!" she said to her husband. Then Woodpecker said, "Very well, hand it to Me'napus; let him eat," he told his wife. The woman handed it to Me'napus, who began to eat. Oh, but Me'napus was hungry; in truth, his life was just barely saved by his getting this meal. He ate up all of the two raccoons. Me'napus drank all of the broth. He was so taken up with eating, he did not think of his wife, he did not think of his children. Then Me'napus, starting to go home, left one of his mittens behind. The young woodpeckers were playing about and came upon Me'napus' mitten. A little woodpecker picked it up. "Father, Me'napus left his mitten!" "Oh," said old man Woodpecker, "take it to him!" he told his child. So the little woodpecker went out. "Hey, Me'napus, you have left your mitten!" he told him. Me'napus stopped and looked at him. "Well, bring it here!" Me'napus told him. The woodpecker ran to give Me'napus his mitten. "'Now then, suppose your father comes over yonder to where I live tomorrow morning. 'Me'napus invites you,' you will tell your father," he said to him. "Very well!" said the young woodpecker. He went home, and when he got there, he told his father, "Father, Me'napus invites you. 'Suppose he comes to our house tomorrow,' he said of you." "So that's it!" said Woodpecker. When Me'napus reached his lodge, why, he brought home not a thing; his wife and children were hungry. Then Me'napus took his ax and stepped outside the lodge, looking for a tree. There he came upon a large dead tree. He chopped it through and felled it. Then he trimmed that large dead tree as long as his house was high. When he had finished hewing it, Me'napus lifted it up. Hah, he could just barely lift its weight. When he took it to the lodge, oh, he truly just managed to get it there. Then he got it inside the lodge; at the rear end he set the tree upright. The wife simply stared at her husband. -202 202Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII h&'wv, 'tUP jh,-ay5'm kd'taw-isi~'2At,?' ind'nihta'min mikii'muh, ndwii'tsin me~nap6'snun,. nahud'w, iniwin-pih misi'k maya'tsiAt;- uti'ninapeh aw&Uti'win. ha'w, ini~win s nawa'tsin misi'lc Me~ti'k"WAn. ha-'w, iniwin a~s Veskaha'tsin, pa~sah&tsin. h&'w, ini'win as pindi'tsin wej'1ih. hJt'w, td'2s3ikan td'hpinAMin, m6'hkutah; uhkd'neh ini'win Wd'sihtuk; Utsi'Asih jh.-y5'win as a'2tulc, ha'w, kWhkah iMI's ta? tsi'nha Ct'wik. kW'w, mis~i'lk nikut us.'htawin; nV's teh J'WiwIA'nin. kayV'situk, jh-y5'win as pj'hnahah Utsi'Asih. hd', pahpisi y5'win niw d'siloapuw~'kin; M4't8-Utsi'As me~napu,'s. h&'w. y6'win niwv d~n-pwuna'tsin inu,'h 'weYAWj'keh. 'h&'w, ini'2! ~wd'hin me~napu's. ini's as api't ini'win pdtsj's-kihnit~k ani'nuh upai'tsiskahi'kanan, as sis~ehktj'hsih me~napu,'s. h&'w, waya'pah mi'p miitsi'win mdimd' w, me~napu'sun w~'kih as isi'At. h&'w, payi'Atat MdtMd'W me'2napus8 wj'kih, iniwin as pi'htiket. Iu'w, menapit's, U'h, nehsj'h! h&'w, misd'hs('h!' ind'win mamd' - UlAfl. ha'w, mdmd'w ini'win kdh s Mis~i'hih. hdi'w, me~na'pus, iniwin-pih wj'wAn dnunA'tsin: 'Iouiu, nipj'w nd'tih; kinaw-tsipa'hkim. wdt'ki2 Ah aw-ahsd'makih nehs~h? nih niw di's kina-ts3ipd'hkim,' ind'win We'WAn. h&&w, tWeyAWjkeh: 'h&'w, wvd'ki2 tdh a-k'Sisaman? kAn kd'k~h a~te'WAn2' ~wd'hin mitd'muh. 'sinaw&'2 niw! w~'pats na'tih nip~'w, kit'nin!' h&'w,, mitd'muh ukd'/&kehkun utdi'hpinewin, nipj'w as na'tik. kay~'s-ku~'Apahah nipj'uw, pit6'k w~'kih, h&'w, ini'win s aklc6t~k skit'tiah, p6'tawet mitii'muh. hd'w, me~napu's ini'win-pih nayi.'pi~tAt. ut,6'hkAneh ini'win-pih wdt&'hpinah me~napu,'s3, jh-y5'win Ut8i'A~ih as pe~'hnahash inih utd'hkaneh. sa~ye'h misi'k nik6't ncap&'n inm'winlmisi'k s pj'hnahah utSi'A~ih. niMdA, me~napvu'8 Md'tS-UtSi'A8! mitdi'muh Y6'wvin niw dnii'puma'tsin. h&'wv, 'ta& ~'h-ay~m kdi'taw-es~'2tAt' irnd'nihtAmin mitd'muh. hd'w, me~napu's ts~napumdi'win ani'nuh me~ti'kWAn inis pi'htik tsi-kjs-tsj~pana'tsin. hsi'w, me~napn,'s ini'win tayd'pipun&'tsinani'nuh me~ti'kwAn, as ahku-'ahtawet. 'lea lka kd', lea'!'1 ha', me~napu's spd'miah iMis, 'kd', le', kid' lea ka!' hI', nile6'tds ini'win sa~yd'h s pat~sk'laha'tsin me~napu,'s ani'nuh me~ti'kWAn. 'UMAVs s pat~sk'lahatsin, ini'win niw tahnd'nuh maya — 1Vowels strongly nasalized. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 203 "What is he trying to do now?" thought she, when she saw Me'napus. Then he went off again; he took his ax with him. He came to another tree there. Then he chopped it through and split it. Then he brought it to his lodge. He took his knife and whittled it; he made an awl; he stuck it into his nose like this, so as to have something sharp there on his nose. Then he made another; two there were. When he had finished them, he stuck them, like this, into his nose. Why, then of course, just like this was the way the two things stood; big was Me'napus' nose. His good wife stared at him. "Why, what is this fellow bent on doing?" she thought. "Now, there we are!" said Me'napus. Right where he sat, Me'napus stuck away these prongs of his, and lay down to rest. Early the next morning Woodpecker set out to go to Me'napus' house. When Woodpecker reached Me'napus' lodge, he entered. Then Me'napus, "Hello, Little Brother, do be seated!" he said to Woodpecker. So then Woodpecker sat down. Then Me'napus commanded his wife, "Now then, fetch water; you are to cook a meal. We must give my little brother something to eat, mustn't we? So, in any case, you are to cook a meal," he told his wife. Then the good woman, "Why, what am I to cook? There isn't anything," said she. "Keep still! Hurry and fetch some water, I tell you!" The woman took her kettle and went for water. When she had drawn water and brought it to the house, she hung it over the hearth, and kindled the fire. She went and sat down. Then Me'napus arose. He took his awl and stuck it, like this, inside his nose, that awl. Then he stuck the other one into his nose, on the other side. Oh, a big beak had Me'napus! His wife simply stared at him. "What is this fellow trying to do?" she thought. Me'napus fixed his eyes on that tree which he had set up there, inside the lodge. Then Me'napus took hold of the tree and began to climb up. "Caw, caw, cw, caw!" Why, there was Me'napus way up aloft, "Caw! Caw! Caw, caw, caw!" Then suddenly Me'napus jabbed that tree with his beak. Every time he jabbed it, that awl went deeper into his nose. Finally, at 204 204Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII tst'sgkAlk ini'h u16hkaneh, andi'miah Utsi'Asih as isi'makah. nik6'tdS a pAkCtmd'tsin mini ut6'hlcaneh, in~i'win w~'sih and~'miah yd'hpits as si'makah ut6'hlcaneh; ini'win-pih me~napu,'s kAn kd'hlcinah. ini'win tsj'k skii'tiah h pd'pehtsih, as 6ht&'kutsih s ni'pdk. 6hwd', mitd'muh, '&", nipu'ah ke~ts-in~d'niw, me~nap6's!' tjwd'hin mitd'muh, kd'2ts-m&'k. flds3i'Anuk m&d'waw ini'win as ni'puwitua2 as miftkua2, nawim&'tua2 6'hnuwa'wan. hdi', mdimd'w y6'win niw nan-puma'tsin me'2napvusn. h&'w,. nipi~ta'win mama wv. ini'win d'ts: 'hei'w, tdi2 4'nahlkami'kah d'sikit h~'h-ayu'rn me~naPU 's2 Wi'yAn naydiwdi'tinin kd'k~h d'8i~tA'flit, ini'2 niw ki-k-Ati'Wia?tt' ~w&'hin mdmd'w: 'nike~'s-ninah-a'p-esT'htsika'sim as a1cw-is~'2tayan, kd'taw-mi'tsihsiyAnin.' ldi'w, ki7?tinamuwd'win ani 'nuh upd'ts8iskahj'kanan me~napu,'sun. jh-y5'm ahkj'w y8'win pdt-sli',nahb mdmdi'w, sis85nam~wdi'tsin Ut~i'Asih. me~napu s ni' win as pJ'hkawa'tesit. h&'w., d~'yanapiwin me'?na 'pus, yd'h-pemd'tesit. k&',W mamd'w mni'iwin-pih wi'nah dhku,'Ahtawet ani'nuh me'23tik-wAn. spd~'miah payi'Atdt, ini'win winah kayj's3kikcah&'tsin mama w. 1u7', k6'tds kAni'win kdth niw payd'pehtsih mdts-di'hsipan ahki'hih. h&', mitdi'muk y8'win niw dinaipuma'tsin. hii'w, sa~yi'h misi'k matma'w k~skikahd'win ani'nuh me'?ti'1cWAn. hd'w, niku't misi'k ini'win s pdi'pehts3ih md'ts-d'hsipAn. mi'tsihsiMuAW,' ind'win ani'nuh mit'i'muh8An ma maw. h&', mikti'muh ta'hpine'win di'hsipA'nAn, skft'tiah wawe'?8u'atsin, u~t&"?sikan kdikdskaha'tsi'n, pi'nj~hatsin. kay~s-pj'njhAtsin, ini'winpih ahldi'hkuh pay~na'tsin mit4'muh. h&'w, kayj8-kisisi'Ahkit, utai'h.pine'u'in u~t'hkehkun misi'k ut~n&'kan, Utd'mislcWAn, meiwa akuAhii'tsin di'hsipA'nAn, unii'kanih s a'9natsin, ma wa niw nap6'p se'kinah un&'lcanih. 'h7'w, mi'tsihsiku'n,' ind'win unitsi'Anehs~n mitdi'muh. h&'w, wdhtsita'w ini'win kayd"?t8-mi'tsihsitua'? nitsi'Anuk, mit&'muh, md?'waw kitamu,'atua'? ii'hsipanan, nap6'p mind'Icua'?. 'h&'w, mi"i? lceh md'hnu,-pimdi'tesiyah,' ~wd'hin mitdt'muh. me'?napu's sdsehlc~hsinin. mi"i? m&'waw. 76. ME'NAPUS VISITS HIS LITTLE BROTHER, THE SQUIRREL. (nehts~'wihtuk) unct'MUAn &'wiw y6'm di'te'?n5'hkakcAn. ncsh&'w, nik~tdi'8 kek wdwe~'kiwin me'?napu's, w~,'wAn unitsi'AnehsgAn. nahii'w, nilc6'tds as a'wvil, payu'AWi'?tAt, ini'win-pih deisi?tawa'tsin uhs~mehsAn un&'wdni'kun. mi'p mdtsi'w;. payi'Atat undiwan ik w~'kih, mi'? as pi'Ihtiket. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 205 one time when he struck it with his awl, that awl went all the way up into his head; then Me'napus knew nothing more. He fell tumbling down to the side of the hearth and lay dead. The poor wife, "Oh dear, dead is my husband, Me'napus!" she said and wept terribly. The children all stood there weeping and lamenting their father. Woodpecker merely stared at Me'napus. Then Woodpecker stood up. This is what he said, "Why, what in all the world is the matter with this Me'napus? Whenever he sees anybody doing anything, he wants to do that very thing too," said Woodpecker. "I, to be sure, do naturally do that way whenever I want to eat." Then he pulled out the sharp pieces of wood for Me'napus. From this earth Woodpecker broke a clod, like this, and rubbed it on his nose. Then Me'napus regained consciousness. He looked this way and that; he was restored to life. "There, go sit down!" Woodpecker told him. Then Woodpecker climbed that tree. When he reached the top, then Woodpecker hacked it open with his beak. After a time, lo, there suddenly fell to the ground a big raccoon. The woman simply stared at him. Soon Woodpecker pecked the tree open again. Then another big raccoon fell down. "There, that will do!" said Woodpecker; "Now then, cook your meal; you shall all eat," Woodpecker told the woman. Oh, the woman picked up the raccoons, singed them in the fire, scraped them with her knife, and cleaned them. When she had cleaned them, she set them to boil in the kettle. When she was done with her cooking, she took her kettle and her bowl and spoon, and ladled out all the raccoon, putting it into the bowl and pouring all the broth into the bowl. "There, eat!" she said to her children. Then in truth heartily did the children eat, and the woman, devouring the raccoons and drinking the broth. "There, that will do! We have had a fine meal!" said she. Me'napus still lay there. That is all. 76. ME'NAPUS VISITS HIS LITTLE BROTHER, THE SQUIRREL. (Nehtsiwihtuk) A true story is this sacred tale. Once upon a time Me'napus dwelt in a place with his wife and children. Then once, when he was in want, he went to visit his younger brother, the squirrel. Early in the morning he set out; when he reached Squirrel's house, he entered. 206 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII un&'wanik s mdtk-d'yapit wj'kih, me'2napusun ini-pi'htika'kut, h&'w, ini? dnii'tsin: 'misdi'hsih,. me~napu,'s, asu'Akam.,' init'w. ini'win-pih un&'wanik kayj'kitutawa'tsin W~'W~xn: 'naha-'w, nipe'w n&'tih; kinaw-tsipa'hkim, me~napu's as a-mi'tsihsit,' ini' win we wAfl. mitd'mu~h ni'pi~ta'win, utli'hkehkun as ut&'hpina'tsin, nipj'w as nd'tik. kayj's-pi't~k, ak~n'i'win utdIhkehkun as p6'awet, awjhmisa'hsih mitd'muh. und'wanik iniwin-pih wdt&'hpinah ut6'hkaneh, ni'pi?tAt. ini'win as ahku'ahtawet tsipJ'hkwAnd'htikuh, as aw~'h-k&Id'kitit: 'si'ninilk, si'ninilc, si'ninik, si'ninik, -si'nini/c, si'ninik, -si'ninik, si'ninik, iniwi'n as nj'puwit tskip'hkWAnJ'htikuh, ispd'miah. ut6'hkaneh si'ninik, si'ninik!' nik~tdi's mesi'h s kdi'kitit, ini'win-pih tay&'pipund'tsin vjtJ'2senimAn, as pats~'skaha'tsin ut6'hkaneh. 'hd'w, WiyAwj'k-eh, un.?'kan, UMA Vs pit6'h!' we' YAWekeh utd'hpenA 'mm ma ls-un&l'kAn; as aku,'ahkihsindi'nik u~kd~t8-ind'niAmAn, ini'win as aw~'h-tahkc6'nah inih mi'ts-und'kan.,un&'wanik, kay&s-pits-tahk~name'nik inih un&'kan, ini'win-pih kayi'tsiput~k inih ut6'hkaneh s kUs-pas~paha'tsin ani'nuh utd'2sene lman. nim&A2, Mi'ts8-MAn/3'meh sj'kiputdi'win; undi'1anih ini'win as pd'pehneh mamdi'tsi?taw-mAn5'meh. me~napu's y8'win niw dndi'puma'tsin un&'wanikun. hIi', sa~yd'h may5'skinik inih unei'kan, 'h&'w, ini'?!' ~wd'hin,una'wanik. ho'w, pimi'm-pin'2tawin und'wanik- s awvjh-misd'hsih; pats'slkihnitW'win ut6'hkaneh. nim&A?, mita'muh mdi'wa niw ini' win as s8j'Icinah inih, man6'meh ahkdi'hlcuh, s kd'?ts-tsipii'hkit. ha'w, kayjskisisi'Ahkit, pindnd'win ani'nuh utd'hkehkun. ut~nd'kan, - mdi'tsuna'kan d'wiwin, - mni' win ma wa niw as sjiT'kinah inih man6'meh. 'hoiw, mni? s kisisi'AhkiyAn,' ina'win und'wani'kun mitd'muh. 'hJ'w, ind'sinamuwi'n me?napu's as aw-mi'tsihsit,9 indi'win w~' - wAn unT wanik. mitd'mqlh ni'pi'?tawin as awjh-a?tuwei,'ts3in rne?napu,'sun as awmi'tsihsinit. 'nahd'w, me?napu"s, mi'tsihsinun; y6? ni nii'p nina? di'nahtsikdi'yah.' 6w5'A!' ~wi'hin me?napu,'s, 'wdwdi'nin, nehsv.'mehsAk,' jw&'hin me?napu's3 s kd'?ts-mi'tsihsit. md' wa niw kit&'min me~napu,'s mAno'meh, mam&'tsi~taw-mAn6'mek. 1uoiw, kawin p6'ts nmti'hkawenima'nan w.j'wan unitsi'Anehs~n, s pu'AWi~tatua?. ini'win niwv mat'waw s kitdkdt. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 207 Squirrel was sitting in his house, and when Me'napus came in to him, he said to him; "Be seated, Me'napus, across the lodge1." Then, Squirrel spoke to his wife, "Now then, fetch some water; you are to cook a meal, that Me'napus may eat," he told her. The woman stood up from where she sat, took her kettle, and fetched water. When she had brought it, she hung up her kettle, made the fire, and went back to her seat. Then Squirrel picked up his bone awl and arose. He climbed up on the frame of the hearth on which the kettle hangs, and there kept calling, "Shinninick, shinninick, shininiick, shinninick, shee shinninick, shee shinninick, shinninick, shinninick!" That was where he stood, way up on the cooking-frame. He took, firm hold of his bone awl, all the while loudly calling, "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick!" Then, at one time, with much chattering, he suddenly seized hold of his testicles2 and jabbed them with his bone awl. "There, wife, the bowl, bring it here!" The wife took up a great big bowl; where her old man was sitting up on the frame, there she went and held that big bowl. When she had come and was holding the bowl, Squirrel yanked out that bone awl of his which he had jabbed into his testicles. Lo, a great quantity of wild rice came pouring out; into the bowl it fell, Indian rice. Me'napus simply stared at Squirrel. Then, when the bowl was full, "There, that will do!" said Squirrel. He came down and went to his seat; he stuck his bone awl away. Lo, the woman then poured all of that wild rice into the kettle and proceeded to cook a big meal. When she had done cooking, she took down her kettle. Into her bowl,- it was a large bowl, - she poured all the rice. "There, I have finished my cooking," she said to Squirrel. "Good; hand it to Me'napus, that he may eat," Squirrel told his wife. The woman arose and went over to place it before Me'napus, that he might eat. "There, Me'napus, eat; this is only what we always have." "Oho!" said Me'napus; "Thank you, Little Brother and Sister," said Mle'napus and heartily fell to. Me'napus ate up all the rice, Indian rice. Not at all did he take thought that his wife and children were hungry. He simply ate up every bit. The man of the house sits by the wall at one side; guests seat themselves at the opposite side. 2 Literally "his stones," euphemism. 208 208Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ha'w, mdtsi'win me~napu'8 as lcWwdt. hj~'w, ini'win s paydndi'tsin undi'2nelhsiAn. una 'wanilk6'hsAlk nitsi'Anuk s MiAna 'tOPtAtua2, ini'win as nawdi'tua? me~napu,'s und'2nehsiAn. 'hd'w, nuhn4a2, me?napii'8 und'2nehsiAn p~ayd7'ndwv,' ind'win 6'hnAn unii'wanik6'hseh. 'lud'w, awatuwi'n!' indi'win un&'wanik. pihni'hseh sdkit~sjpahta'win as awd'tuwa'tsin. 4 h eAy!1' indi'win me?napusun. me~napus nakdi'2tawin. 'kind'2neh kip&'yAnaw!' 'he-y, pi'si'n!' ind'win me~na'pus una'wanilk6'h8An. hd'w, aweh-mind'win urnd'2nehsiAn. 'h&'w, k~hndi'? w&'pah kAts pi'w-eh n~'lkinan5'2,' ind'win uni' - wanik6'hsAn. kjwd'pahtawin und'wanikc6'seh, pi'htike'pahtuke wj'k5wa2. CnuhndA2, me~napu,'8 kindtomi'k, wai'pah s aw-isiyen!' inii'win o'hnAn. '6'V' jwd'hin un&'wanflk ke~ts-ind'niw. me~napit's, pa yi'At at wj'lk-5wa?, hwdAta2, kawin ka'k~h upift6'nan si'2tawjkcdt. uta'ninapeh mamu'ahin, salcit6hnet, papii'M-nAt6 -nah&'tsin me~ti'lkWAn. Icuta'2na8 ini'win as mehkcewui'tsin me~ti'lkwAn; ini'win s pa?8alui'tsin. kayjs-pa?8alui'tsin, ini'win-pih pitskj'wdt. leayi's-piAt, ut&'2sikan utdhpina'min as miihlcuti'?sit; md'tsuhldi/neh usq'htawin. h&'w, y6'win niw aina-puma'tsin mitii'muh ukd,'2ts-indini'AMAn. 'wd'ki2 ~'h-ayum wd'sgihtuk?' indinihtA'min mitd'muh. kayjs-kV'sihtulk inih mdi'ts-uhlka'neh, ndku,'ahki hnitd' win 6ti'htanih, sasehkehsih me~na'pvs. way&'pah mi"p mdtsi'win unai 'wanik. h&'w, payi'Atit rne'?napus w~'kih, pi'htike'win un&'wanik. h&'w, me'2napus pmi'm-6n~'win. th&, nehsW', misd'hsih!' ini'win-pih kay#jkitu,'tawa/tsin me~na'pus3 we WAn.: 'h&'w, nip~'w n&'tih; kina-tsip~hki'm!' ind'win we wAn. hli'w, mitd'muh keAn kd'k~h uldi'hkina'nan wd'ki2 tsi-kAtd'w-tsipd'hlkWAtah. kitd'nin!' nd 'win we wan. nahd'w, mitd'muh ni'pi~ta'win, utd'hkehkun as 6td'hpina'tsin, nipj'w as3 n&'tik. kay~s-pi'tdk nip~'w, pimi'm-ak~td'win s kd'2tsp5'tawet, awjh-misd'hs3ih. ta2, keAn kd'k.-h ukdi'hkina'nan~ wd,'li? ts8i-k'Atd'w-An&'h mitd'muh. hd'w, me~napu,'8 pmim-ni'pi~ta'win; ut6'hkianeh mim-utdhpinA'mmn, nj'puwjpa'htuk; utsipdhkwAnl'htik mi'm-kutdpd'htamin as a~hku,'ahtawe'pahtuk. ni m-aA?, spd'miah ini'win as aw~'h-n~'puwit. hd'w, ini'win kdh sa~yd'h me'2napu8s sWkNkti: ',si'ninilc, s8i'ninik, s8i'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninilo, si'ninilc!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 209 Then Me'napus left, to go home. He left his mitten behind. The little squirrels, the children, in playing, came upon Me'napus' mitten. "Oh, Father, Me'napus left his mitten," a little squirrel told its father. "Then take it to him!" Squirrel told it. The youngster ran out of the lodge to take it to him. "Hey there!" it called to Me'napus. Me'napus stopped. "You left your mitten!" "Hey, bring it here!" Me'napus told the young squirrel. It went and gave him his mitten. "Well, suppose your father comes to our house tomorrow," he said to the young squirrel. The little squirrel ran home and came running into the lodge. "Father, Me'napus invites you to go there tomorrow!" it told its father. "So that's it!" said old man Squirrel. When Me'napus got home, why, nothing at all did he bring from his visit. He took his ax and walked out of the lodge, looking about for a tree. Somewhere thereabouts he found a tree; then he split it lengthwise. When he had split it, he came back. Having come back he took up his knife and began to whittle; he made a large awl. His wife simply stared at her old man. "What is this fellow making?" she thought. When he had made that large awl, he laid it away under his settee, and then Me'napus went to bed. Early the next morning Squirrel set out. When he reached Menapus' lodge, he entered. Me'napus got up from where he lay. "Ah, Little Brother, be seated!" Then Me'napus addressed his wife, "Well now, go fetch some water; you are to cook a meal," he told his wife. Now, the woman did not know of anything that she could use for cooking a meal. "Why," she told him, "why, there isn't anything!" Oho! Then Me'napus said, "Be still! Hurry up and fetch water, I tell you!" he said to his wife. So the woman got up, took her kettle, and fetched water. When she had brought the water, she proceeded to hang it up, and made a big fire, and returned to her seat. Why, now, she did not know of anything that she might be expected to cook. Well then, Me'napus proceeded to arise; he took his awl and jumped up; he made a dash for the cooking-frame and climbed up with speed. Why, up on top of it he went, and stood there. That was the time when Me'napus chattered, "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick!" 14 '210 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI ta?, und'wani1c g6'win niu' d~na-puma'tsin me'2napusun k&2tsIh&'w, me~napu,'s: 'sininik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninilk, hud'w, nik~td'sg ini'win sydhas td'pinatsin aiuhutd&2sene'M~n kdtskdktit si5atyan'hi a~ pdssahJti dni'nu mAn. 'h&'w, WeyAwe'keh! un&'Ican UMA'spis-tahk8'nah!' ind'Win We'WAn. h&'w, mitdi'muh nj'puwj'pahta'win; ut~n&'kan — md'ts-und'kan a wiwin - wdtdi'hpinah, ha'w, ini'win tipJ'h as aid'h-tahk5'nah inilh u~n&'kan. hd'w, me~na'pus ini'win-pih kayi'2tinah ut5'hlkaneh s keis-pats'skahatsin ani'nuh Utd'2sene'MAn. nim&A2, meldci'h wd'1htsia' si pits8-ku,'ahnipitd'win! h&a', mitd'muh, kAnahwe~'nuh miiskinepi'win inih ut~na'kAn mehki'h; &', sdikisi'win mitci'muh. khi'w, me~na'pus ini'win-pih sa~yd.'h sdk&'hki'?tAt salca'nah as ni'pdik, mehki'h me~si'h s mditsi'makah. h&'w, nik~tdi's iniwi'n sa2~yff'h as wand'nihtah. 6hw&', tsi'kiskuni'ah niwin s p&'pehtsih as ni'pdik; pj'hkikawiwin. 6 AhW&A, mitdt'muh kdi'2s-m~k, nitsi'Anuk me~napus6'hs8Ak nj'puwjpahtawa'kin, 6hnu,'wawan as nipdi'nik, as nawejm&'tua2. hJ'w, unii'wanik pipi'm-ni'pi~tawin. 'hdi'w, ta2 d.'nahkami'Icah di'sikit j'h-aynm me~napd5's? k&'k~h naya'wiki'tsin, mni'? niw wi'nah ap ki-kAtdW-isj'htsiket,' ~w&'hin un&'wanilc; 'nina'h Ap nikis-is~hikem, Idi'taw-mitsihsiyA'nin ini'h as aw-kiw-isj'?tayan,' jw&'hin unii'wanik. ahk~w ini'win wdtii'hpinah und'wanilk as sis65'nah ini's me~na'pus utei'2senimih; ini'win as p6'nikawik mehki'h. nawj'naw mimun~'win me~na'pu8. nimdA2, y6'm d'Si~tAt s &'yanapit me~na'pu8, mehlci'h sdmi'natin! 9WdA, iit'? teh y6'm disilki'makah?' jwdi'hin me'2napus. 'Iui2 na's aw-isj'Ikih? kikdi'tim&'htun 1c'yaw. awj'h-misd'hsih&,' in4'win und'wanik. mi'm-ut&'hpinA'min inih m&'ts-ulkdd'neh un&'wanik as ahku'ahtawe'pahtulk. spd'miah ini'win un&'wanik as aw~h-tasi'kitasit: 'si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninilc, si'ninik! - nawd'ts-1kisW'nit5'h inih un&'kan..' ini' win ani' - nuh mitd'muh8An. mitvd'mu~h kayis-nawd'tiput~k inih unii'lan, kis,'2nit~k, pd'ts, hd'w, und'wanik, 'Iui'w, UinA's8pis-tahk6'nah!' indi'win. kii'ta2, mitdi'muh tipii'I ini'win s pits-tahk5'nah inih un&'kan. un&'wanik, kdi'2ts-nehlk6'sit: 'si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninik, si'ninilk, si'ninilk, si'ninilc, si'ninik, si'ninilc!' k~td's as &'wik, ini'win-pih taya'pip~na'tsin ani'nuh uted2seni'MAn, patse'skahatsin. kayi'2tinah inih ut6'hkaneh, ni-Mal)2, mam&,'tsi~taw-man6'meh wdihtsita'w Pis 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 211 Now, Squirrel just stared at Me'napus as he loudly chattered. But Me'napus, "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick!" Then, all at once, he took hold of his testicles, chattering loudly. And then, at one time, he jabbed through his testicles. "Here, Wife! Come hold a bowl here!" he told his wife. The woman jumped up; taking her bowl, - it was a big one, - she went and held it right underneath. Then Me'napus jerked out his awl, which he had jabbed into his testicles. Oh dear, the blood really just came spouting forth with a leap! Oh, the woman, - in no time at all her bowl was filled with blood; oh, the woman was frightened. And Me'napus, by this time was holding fast to the frame, nearly dead, what with so much blood leaving him. Then, at one time, he lost consciousness. Dear me, to the edge of the hearth he fell, and died; he had bled to death. Alas, the'woman wept greatly, and the children, the little Me'napuses,l leaped up and began to lament over their father, who had died. Then Squirrel stood up. "Now, what in all the world is the matter with this fellow Me'napus? Whenever he sees people doing anything, right off, he always wants to do the same way," said Squirrel; "I, to be sure, was so created that, whenever I want to eat, I do that way," explained Squirrel. With that, Squirrel picked up some earth and rubbed it there on Me'napus' testicles; then the blood stopped flowing. After a while Me'napus rose up from where he lay. Dear me, when Me'napus did like this and looked about him, there was no end of blood! "Wow, what does this mean?" asked Me'napus. "What do you suppose it means? You are simply destroying yourself. Go sit down where you belong," Squirrel told him. Squirrel proceeded to take that large awl, and ran up the wooden frame. Up aloft there, Squirrel worked himself into excitement, "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick! - Just you first wash out that bowl," he said to that woman, She grabbed up the bowl and washed it, carefully. Then Squirrel said to her, "All right, come hold it here!" So then the woman came and held the bowl right underneath. Squirrel, getting into a frenzy with his "Shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick, shinninick!" then, at one time, took hold of his testicles, and jabbed them with the awl. He pulled out his awl and, lo, wild rice truly came spilling and pouring out; into 1Me'napus' children are spoken of by the diminutive of his name; otherwise this manner of designation is confined to the young of animals. 14* 212 212Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII sikwa'piputd'win; un&'kanih ini'win as pa'peh~neh. hdi'w, mitdi'mu~h w6$htsita ka'2tin ini'win as vnini'nihtah as k-Atew-ka'2ts3-mi'sihs it. yd.'hpits m58kine'win inih una'kan man6'meh. 'hd'w, mi"i?!' ind'win una'wvanik-; 'hd'w, tsipi~7hkinun!' ind'win una'wanik mitd'muhs8An. hd'w, mitdi'muh man6'meh m&'waw ini'win ahkli'hkuh ma waw as,s~'kinah, kdi"?ts9-tsipd'hkit. h&'ta2, un&'wanilk mdtsi'win as kj'wat. mitdi'muh kayis-lkisisi'Ahkit, mi'm-pindndi'win utii'lhlehkun, ut~nja'ican as a'2tuk, man6'meh m&'u'aw ini'win a~s s'kinah. 'h&'w. ritsihs3iku'n!' irnd'win unitsi'Anehs~'hsAn. lhd'ta'?, me~napus6C'h8Alc wdihtsita'w ini'win s kd"?t8-mi'tsilhsitua&. hd 'ta'?, me~na'pus3 yo 'win ana-puma'tsin uwe'wan unitsi'AnehsAn kdi"?ts-mi'tsihsi nit. min? ldih s lkeS-ma'tsiAt un&'wanik. min? ldih mdi'waw, nikc6tunuh kcayjs-is~' kit me'?napu,'s. nahdi'w, sinaw&"? niw. kimdmi'yahtum6'nawv me'?nap6'8 s a8awi' nimi' nah. mi"i? kayj's-uhtsej"?tAt as a-kiw-&yayd,'nit mam&'tsi'?taw kahpi'h ayaydt'sim~'htsin hdt8-ahk.'w-a-taki'l, ay&'teh as aw-inim-pimi'tesit j/imd'tes8it y~s ahki'hih. ne'?nimdi'wan teh kimjn5'naw as a'w-uhpuAt, misi'k teh sfi'n yen kimjn5'natv s a-mini'nihtah s a-nii'tamunah s a-pemdi'tesi yak. 77. THE SWEET-ROOT. (Jerome Lawe) nik~td'8 Idih me'?na'pus as md'k-pdpiM06'hnet, kCAniwi'n niw Wi'yAn lkayj'kitu~t&d'lut: 'me'?nap5'8, nina'? niki-m~kd'minaw; " askipu'awak" ta'?, 9ah&A!1' me'?napu,'s p&'hpisiw pipi'm-m~nahe'win as lcut&,md'tsin. Cnimd"'?, hedniwd'h keh kiwej'hkini'MUAW!' ta'?, me"?napus nd'?s kd'h usd'mi'?tawin nikuk tsi-mw&,'tsin. kay~sIdi"?ts-t4'pinuAn&'tsin, iniwi'n-pih sa'?yd'h misik may&'tsiAt. as md'k-niw-pim6'hnet, kAni'win niw pa'sketsi'sikan wa'htiwik-. 'ha' y!' jwa'hin me'?napu,'s as tsiw-tapd',si. naw~'na niw sa'?yd'h mis3ik uhtiwdi'win ~pcsketsi's8ilAn; iniwi'n niw kiw-i'tdh 'ha'y!P as t-si-kiw-tapa's3it. ahk6"?sqil us&'matin wd'htsitaw siw ya'pitiwd'wAnin ani'nuh pdsketsi'sikAnan. hMA, iniwin ldih me"?napus, as ~pipi'm.taht&'pasit; wdhtsi'taw iniwi'n niw ainiwd'kin ahpd'n niwv. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 213 the bowl it fell. The woman was really glad, then, that she was to have a good meal. Entirely full of rice was the bowl. "There, that will do!" Squirrel said to her; "Now, cook your meal," he told her. Then the woman poured all the rice into the kettle and cooked a big meal. Then Squirrel left, to go home. When the woman had done cooking, she took down the kettle, and, placing ready her bowl, poured in all the rice. "There, eat!" she told her children. Then truly with zest the Little Me'napuess fell to. Me'napus gazed at his wife and children as they vigorously ate. By this time Squirrel had gone. So this is the end of this adventure of Me'napus. Now, be silent. Let us pray to Me'napus that he may take pity on us. The reason he did those things was that mortal men might always laugh, whenever the story of him is told, as long as there is an earth, as generation after generation man continues to live here on earth. And let us give him tobacco that he may smoke, and let us give him money1 that he may be pleased and may help us to live. 77. THE SWEET-ROOT. (Jerome Lawe) Once upon a time when Me'napus was tramping about in his usual way, suddenly someone spoke to him, "Say, Me'napus, we too are edible; 'Sweet-Roots' we are called!" Then, "Oho!" Me'napus of course set about digging them up, to try their taste. "Oh, but you do taste good!" And then Me'napus, to be sure, went too far in the amount he ate. When he had eaten a great fill of them, he started off again. While he was thus walking along, suddenly a gun sounded from somewhere. "Hi!" said Me'napus, and dodged. Very soon again came the report of a gun; and he kept crying, "Hi!" and dodging. At last it really went too far, the way those guns were banging. That was when Me'napus kept dodging this way and that; but truly that noise went on ceaselessly. "Why, I am being bombarded!" he thought. 1That is, the narrator dedicates to Me'napus the money which I had paid him for telling the story. This, of course, does not affect the actual material use of the money. Of the tobacco, however, a little is laid into a small hole dug in the ground. 214 214 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n tah as pipi'm-tahtii'pasit, inih tdh as pipi'm-jtdh: 'a'y, a'y, a'y!P ahk6'2silc yd'hpits pj'hkcatsk5'win; nik6'ds pipi'm-wa/paku'tsinin. Ikay~'8-wd'pakcu'tsih, k~td's iniwi'n niw ahpdi'n dni'wak: T. iA iA!' paydi'kWAt8 winesa'2 niw ts3iw-a'wit, as pfkitit's1CAkut ani' nuh askipwd' WAn. s md'k-ni-p&'pim6'hnet, waA, kAniwi'n keh 6h6'piwAk wdhts3imi'tua2. imi'nakah dina'pit, us&'matin me'kunAlk tse'patAkAnAlk, mama'tsi~taWAk as ts8i-lki'2ts-ni'mitua2. naha'w, s~h niw pd'ts niw pakit~mdi'win ut&'hkehkun; ini's tiih wina'h ap as enj-yo5'h-kdi~tsni'mit, pahpesi' ta2 leiw-inim-6h6'piwin. pdhpiskcahd'win misi nawi'n tsiw-ini'm-tasi'hsimit s kd'2ts-ni'mit, maydminunii'pahtah, MAxsk~td'masku~n niw a'WiWAnin ani'nuh paydi'2ts-wi'ts3ihsiminu'tah. ta?, umA'Is as lci-pit&'nimah, ini's tdih as tsi-ki-Ik&'kituw.d'2nehkin ani'nuh MAskota'MAskun, ini'win tih ini's h~h6'piwAk as inii'asit. ta'?, iniwi'n kdih misi'k as mdminuna'nihsit di'sikit, tsiyd'w, 1kaye-saw~'h-nawditinA 'tsin ut&'hkehkun, inim-wdpuhne 'win. iniwi'n misi'k ini's kayj's-isj'kit me?napu's. 78. THE SWEET-ROOT. SECOND VERSION. (md',3inikdi'puwiw) ~pim6'hnewin lcdh me'2napus,. hd'A as mdk-papem6'hnet, lcAni'win niw pind'hsAlk kute'2nas mnis wdi'hkcwApitua2. 'hw&A"h tJ'ydih, pindiihSAk!' jwa'hin me'2napus. kayis-pi'minah uta'siyAn, iniwi'n keh s m~tsina'tsin aninuh pina'khsAn. h1u~w, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt, pipem6'hnet y6'm minus. smdk pim6'hnet, kutii'2na8 lkAniwi'n niw lcd'lkbh tsayj'patelk. 'hti~h, nehs~'2, ta'? kiw-ikd'yan?' ina'win ani'nuh. 'h1u~w, me~napu' s, islci'pulaw keh nilci'w-ikdim, nikiw-ilk3'k MAM&'tsi~tawAk. niki-m6'kulk mi'n niw mAMa'tsi~taWAk.' 'nahd'w, nehsiY2, kin~a-kut4'min lcah.' 'Iu0'w, m6'nahina'2 lkeI,' iku,'ahin. h&'w, iniwi'n iceh me'2napus s m4'nahatsin slcipu'awan. kayj8 -m6'nahatsin, iniwi'n-pih 1c6'amatsin. nim&'2, usii'mat a win dswj'hkinit inuh ski'puaw! 'nimdi'2, nehsj'2, uniwd'lk lkh kiw~'hkinim!' h&'w, iniwi'n lceh misi'lc s pmi'm-nit~3nuiha'tsin. kayjs-mehkdiwd'tsin, mni? keh nit misik as m6'nahatsin s mu'atsin. iniwi'n keh niw 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 215 And he kept dodging and ducking about and as he did so saying, "Hi, hi, hi!" At last he was entirely exhausted; he tumbled over and fell. When he had fallen down, something all the time sounded "Ee ee, ee." Then it turned out that it must have been he himself, the sweet-root having made him flatulent. When his weariness had gone, he got up and started out again. As he was walking along, why, suddenly came the sound of some people whooping. When he looked in that direction, there were the head-gear feathers of some people who must have been dancing with all their might. In all due form he set down his kettle from his back, and there he too began to dance with all his might; and of course he kept whooping as he went on. When, in the course of it, dancing with great vigor in their very midst, he took a more careful look at things, why, prairie-weeds were those things in whose dance he had mistakenly joined. For, when the breeze blew that way and those prairie-weeds rustled in the wind, that was what he had taken for whooping men. So then, when he thought over what was happening to him, crestfallen, he went and picked up his kettle and walked on. That is the way Me'napus fared there. 78. THE SWEET-ROOT. SECOND VERSION. (Masinikapuwiw) Me'napus was walking along. Then, as he walked along, there at some place lay a nestful of young partridges. "Well, what do you think of that! Young partridges!" said Me'napus. He twisted aside his breech-clout and beshat those young partridges. Then he set out again, wandering here and there over this island, the earth. As he walked along, there in a place stood something set in the ground. "Now, little brother, what are you called?" he asked this being. "Why, Me'napus, Eaten-Raw (Sweet-Root) am I called; so do men call me. And the people eat me, too." "Is that really true, little brother?" "Yes," it told him; "They eat me." "Very well, little brother, I shall taste you." "Yes, just dig me up," the other told him. So then Me'napus dug up the Sweet-Root. When he had dug it up, he tried its taste. Why, it was incredible, the delightful taste of that Sweet-Root! "Heavens and Earth, little brother, but you do taste good!" So then he went looking about for more. When he had found it, he just dug it up and ate it. That was the way he went on, 216 216 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ii'ncthkamilce'sit me~si'h s pmi'm-m6'nahatsin, wdihtA' teh ni'wv s td'pinit me'?napus. hd'w, kayis-tdpinit, 'h&'w, ini'9 lceh s ta'pini'yen, nehsj'9.' indi'win. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih maya'tsyAt misiki. h&'w, nik~td',s niw-mrukpapim8'hnet, ni'2 sa?yeh s j/i'hsikit s pa'hsinilcit. nikktd's niw-mdikpim5'hnet, kAniwi'n niw, 'pu,'m!' kd'k~h dini'wdk~. Ca'?2, a'?!' kd~ts-tsj'pi~tawin me'?napus; 'h&'W, wad'kito'WAk inih aydi'wik kaydkit5'w6dk?' ind'nihtA'min. misi'Ik niw nawindi'hsihsih niw ini2 sa~yd'h misik, 'pu,'m!' nim&A2, ts9i-kdi'2ts-tapii'sit. k62s3ik ni'w wiwj' pats3 niw kdk~it~wi'win. nim&'?, mini sa~ya'h s wipj' hi wet me'2napus. s wd'pj't, iniwi'n niw inim-ini'wdk,. 'Pu,' pu' pu' Pu,' pu,' Pu' pu'!1' ini'wdw as ni-wd'pit. 'heh hi.d'h, apa'hpeni'8iwAk!' ind'nihtA'min; 'wi'yAk keh lkAna'pat8 nik~tdi's niw, wand'hkis3iwi'k ins, i'niwi'n as nim-p&'kisit, ki'Asit teh imis; &', iniwi'n s s&'s3ehkj#'hsih. nawind'hsihs3ih iniwi'n sa~yd'h tsi'Ahkihki'tat s &'yand'pit. kAniwin ni' misik, 'pu,'2! P ini'wdk. ha'w, iniwi'n keh misile ki'Asit. iniwi'n keh d'nahkamike'sit. kawi'n teh uldi'hkinanan wi'nah niw as pd'kitit. iniwi'n teh lkAni'w s lcehkj'nah ini's s sehkj'hsih, lki'ASit; misi'k s pa'kitit, iniwi''n ICAniw s n6'htah ini'h utsjh s k&'kit6'wdk. ayd'niwin me'2napu8 8 pimi'ni' pi~tAt. 'd' ninesa'2 ni na'p ay&'wik nitsej'h kaya'kit~wdik!' indi'nihtAmin. hd'w, iniwi'n sa~ya'h Misi'k as wd''puhnet. pa-pim6'hnet, d', nikata's3 misik ni2 misik kdt'lkh s tsiw-inim-m&'minun&'pahtah. '&, nehsV'2, wd?.8j'kiw ay&'wiyen?' 'YA, sJ'puhsj'kan niki'w-ik~lkMAMa'tsi?tat'WA1.' C&A, nehs.j'?, ta'? teh lkiw-isi'2tatua2 ki'Jcuh MAMa'tsi~ta'WA1C?' '6A, niki-m6'nahuku,'k kdh; niki-m6'kuk teh; ni? s ki-sad'pusi'tua2.' CIA, nehsj'2, kina-m6'nahu'n keh.' 'nah&'w!' inii'win inuh sii'puhsj'kan. h&'w, iniwi'n keh me'2napus me~si'h pmi'm-m6'nahah inilh s&'puhst31kan. me?,si'h kayjs-m5'nahah, iniwi'n-pih teh mayj'tsik. md'wa kayjs-m0'tsik, ta'2, wdhta' niw td'pin6'win. 'hd'w, ini'2 keh, nehs3j'2, s tei'pini'yen,' ind win. hd'w, ini'2 sa~yd'h misik s Ma'tsiAt. k~tdi's niw s ni-md'k-pim6'hnet, iniwi'n sa? ya'h s w~'2sake'sit um6't, k5?2si'k niw wdhta' niw s kdi'2tswi2sake'sit. h&'w, ini2 sa~yd'h kayis-pi'minah Ut&'s3iyAn, und'pit s k4'ts-m~'seO, s sa'puhkauwd'wisit. ta'?, sd'p~s~w. dV, kayjs-tdpm~'st, sa~yd'h s ni'pi~tat, iniwin misi'k s Md'tsiAt. ke~tsi'h niw piAta'win; iniwi'n sa~ydi'h misik s kAtdi-M~'Sjt. kayeis-pi'minah 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 217 going hither and thither and digging it up in great quantities, until truly he had a good bellyful. When he had his fill, "There, now I have had my fill, little brother," he said to it. Then he set out again. After a while, as he was walking along, he swelled up; he became swollen at the belly. Then after a time, suddenly, "Poom!" something resounded. "Tut tut!" Me'napus jumped with a start; "I wonder what that was that popped like a gun?" he thought. Soon afterwards, again, "Poom!" Dear me, how he dodged! Finally the detonations became frequent. Oh, then did Me'napus take to flight! As he ran, that noise still kept up with him. "Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!" went the reports as he ran on. "Goodness me!" he thought; "It seems someone is trying to kill me!" he thought. In time, at a place where there was a small depression in the ground, there he threw himself down on the run, to hide; there he lay stretched out. After a bit, he barely moved his head to look about. Suddenly again, "Pop!" went that noise. Again he hid himself. He kept on doing that way. He did not know that it was himself breaking wind. But then, after a while, he did realize it, as he lay there in hiding; as he once more broke wind, then suddenly his hearing told him that it was his own anus that was detonating. Me'napus laughed as he got up. 'Why, it was my own anus was making those reports!" he thought. So then he started off again at a walk. As he tramped along, at one time there again was something which he, it seems, attentively examined. "Ho, little brother, what sort of creature are you?" "Oh, Boiled-as-a-Purge men call me." "Why, little brother, and what do those people do?" "Oh, they dig me up and they eat me; thus are they purged." "Why, little brother, I'll just dig you up." "Yes, indeed!" that Purge told him. So accordingly Me'napus went about digging great amounts of that Purge. When he had dug a great deal of it, he ate it. When he had eaten it all, why, then truly his belly was full. "There, little brother, now I have my fill," he said to it. Then he went on. Suddenly, as he was walking along, he had a pain in his belly. At last he really had a severe pain. Soon he twisted aside his breech-clout, squatted down, and copiously eased himself; he had got loose bowels from what he had eaten. To be sure, he had taken a purge. When he had done easing himself, he got up and went on. He had gone but a little ways, when again 218 218 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII u~ta'8iyen, tsiw-un&'pit misik, lca~t8-me'st. kayis-tdp-mi'sit misilc, iniwi'n-pih misi'k mayfl'tiAt. pesi'k ldi'2tsih 7jiYAta'Wi'n: ini? sa~ya'hk misik t&'-mj'8jt, kh'w, kayis-pi'minah misik Uta'8iyAn, hundi'pit, misik s Wdts-mi'sit. hd'w, kayes-tOp-mi'sit, iniwin sa~ydi'h s ni'pi?tat. kayis-ni'pi?tat niw, iniwin ni' misik- s m6'sihtuk s kAtd-Mj'sjt. iniwi'n keh ni' misik kayd'nituh inis as 'un&'pit, s mjsj't misik. misik s m6'sihtuk s kti-mj'8jt. h&'w, iniwi'n misik tsiw-undi'pit; ini'win niw pmi'm-ydydi'tapit s kd'?'ts-mj'st. nJ'h. k62s3i'k niw nkdst'n ni ki-wi'hkihtawin s ni'pi?tAt s ki-yd'tapit ins. hiiw, ini'? sa?yei'h yahpi'ts niw as di'nawi'hisit 5 ta'-ni'pi~tAt, wi~'ki ke'h ndsldi'n niw wi'hkihe's~win s ni'pi?tat s ydhpi'ts-tsi'Ahkitsi'Asit me'2napus. ndi'p mnis as &'yana'pit, kAniwt'n niw ka'kah misi'k inis nayd'mik,s tse'patik. 4d nehW?', wii?sj'kiw ayci'wi yen?' ind'win. '6'A me'2na pus, tita'hpitsi'peh nikiw-ik6'k mAMa'tsi~ta'WAk.' 'ta'? teh nehsj'?, lciw-isi'?tatua2 akikuh mAmd'tsi?ta'wAk?' 45 N niki-m6'mahulcu'k keh; ini'?-pih teh ki-mi'tua2. kj'spin s3d'puhkaw4'wis3itu~a?, ini'2-pih k-pmi'w-m8'nahi'tua?,' tjwd'hin inuh ttd'hpitsipeh. CdAs nehs'2, kina-m6'nahun; nisa'puhkawd'wis3im,' jw&'hin me'?napus. nd'p mnis s8 ni-wi'hkwAtsi'hit; ndskii'n ni wi'hkihta'win as pim6'hnet. kayjs-m5'nahatsin, iniwi'n keh misik s m~'tsik inih ttei'hpitsipeh. iniwi'n teh niw misik d'nahkami'kisit s pmi'm-m3'nahah. ha'w, k6?si'k niw iniwi'n s p6'nisit ini's s sdi'puhkawd'wisit. 'wa'h, misA's keh niki-pimi'-in&'nuhkem!' jwd'h~in me'?napus3 ini'? keh d'hkwAtsimi'yen. 79. THE SHUT-EYE DANCERS. (Jerome Lawe) nik~td's kdh me?napu's as md'k-papim6'hnet, kAnt'win niw mdtdpi'A~hnet nipej'hseh. nim&d'?, usii'matin lciili'hkih isjYh-sj'?s3ipAk misi'k tdih mihkdi'kuk! nahud'w, iniwi'n kdh me?napu's8 sa?yd'h as ndlcatawd'nihtah ti'? kd'taw-is3-tdpinA'tsin. nahud'w, iniwin-pih dimd'tsin: 'ir, nehs~mehSAk, pyA'kun! usk~hniki'm~unAn nipit6nan; kini'mihetP?!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 219 he felt the need of easing himself. Twisting aside his breech-clout, he squatted down again and copiously eased himself. When he had sufficiently eased himself, then again did he start on his way. This time he had gone a lesser distance still, when again he had to ease himself; so, twisting aside his breech-clout and squatting down, again he copiously eased himself. When he had sufficiently eased himself, he arose. Hardly had he stood up, when again he felt it coming that he would have to ease himself. So now he squatted at another place and again eased himself. Then again, when he had sufficiently eased himself, he arose. Immediately he again felt it coming that he would have to ease himself. So he again squatted; and thus he moved from spot to spot, squatting here and there and everywhere, easing himself in great quantity. Oh, at last he scarcely had the strength to get up and squat afresh. Then at last he was quite unable to rise; only with great effort did he succeed in getting up, so completely cleaned out at the belly was Me'napus. Then as the poor fellow looked about, there once more he saw something that stood upright in the ground. "Oh, little brother, what sort of creature are you?" he asked it. "Why, Me'napus, Puckering-Root (Virginia Waterleaf) men call me." "And what, little brother, do those men do?" "Oh, they just dig me out, and then they eat me. When something has given them diarrhea, that is when they go about digging me," said that Puckering-Root. "Why, little brother, is that really so?" "Yes," it answered. 'Oh, little brother, I'll dig you up; I am loose at the bowels," said Me'napus. The poor fellow could barely drag himself along; he was barely able to walk. When he had dug it up, then, this time, he ate that Puckering-Root. He just kept on that way, digging it up. At last he got over his diarrhea. "Brrrr, I do manage to get into all sorts of scrapes!" said Me'napus, laughing at himself. That is as far as my story goes. 79. THE SHUT-EYE DANCERS. (Jerome Lawe) Once upon a time, when Me'napus was, as usual, tramping along, he came down to the shore of a lake. Oh my, how many ducks and wild geese of every kind! So now Me'napus took thought as to how he would get his hands on them. So then he said to them: "Ah, little brothers, do come here! I am bringing some new songs; let us dance together!" 220 ~22O Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] nahd'w, ta?, &'nuw niw kute'w is-ts~tane'nimi kin; ta'?, p6's niw me~na'pus wapdmd'u'in. ini'2-pih sa~ye'h mdt-i5he teiwvasi'htu~ku~a2. nah&'w, ini'2-pih sa~yd'h payi'htikawane'titua2, sa~yeh as ni'mihA'tsin me?na' pus3. nahd'w, iniwi'n ft'h d'naham&'sit: 'nehsjmehsqitu~kd-d, nik~munan nipitonAna-a; pis-akuApih~simik, pi-s-akuApihsimik, pi8-ak11APihs3imik, pi8-akUApihsimik!' ta'?, imis as mdik-ni'minit. ini'2-pih sa'?yeh ki'mots3 ani'nuh niku,'t mikhii'Iun tsi-pi'mikiyawenii'tsin. 'h&'kc!'1 iu'ii'hin inuh mi'hkdik. sayeh misi'k nilcut; 'h&'lc!' ini'tamin. ini'2-pih mis3i'k inih tsiw-inli'hamasit: 'nklch ndtawapiy~idkih, kinaw-mdimehkuAPinewi?kim! hdi? he'h, hd? he'h, hd? he'h, hd2 he'h!' as md'k-niw-ni'mitua?, ini'2-pih wil'nah sii'pe?,SiAl tsiw-wei"?nuAtawa'pit: me~na'pus winah siwvas mak-pi'mikiyawind'win ani'nuh misi'k nilcut mihk&'lcun! e me~na'Pus kind'2nikuna'w!' ejwJ'hin,8su'pe?siAlk. wdihtsi'taw si palc6'skamatUWA'kin isku'Ahtem s iisi'mitua2, tsiy&'kh-matiipi'nisimi'tua? inih nip~'hseh. p&'hpesi ta? me?na'pus as tsqiw-pem~'nisqihda'tsi~n, imi's nipi'hih umi'win ihpih niw a'ni'mitsimit siki'meh, siw api'Mts u'pis3kawci'win as tahkd'skawatsin. wd'htsitaw siw umd'win d.-sf'82'kisikAn~i'8kAt sikci'meh. IhMA, &'nu, kdih ii'? niw ahpdi'n aw-e'nim-isejna'kuseyAn!' ind'win me?na'pus8. nahtd'w, ini'? kdih nik6'?ts nis mihk&'kun. 80. THE UNFAITHFUL BACKSIDE. (kis~'wAt6'1seh) nahdi'w, nik6'tds 1c8-pimdi'8kaw me~na'pus; nahud'w, ahpa"i'n niW. nahii'w, nilk~td'8, ayei'n, ah tsiw-aY&'n-APti'hsahki'ahsAn ni's tsine?nA&'tsin, iniwMn tsi-p6'tawvet, me?s~'h pehki'h mdwatsj'htukc. nahM'w, iniwi'n-pik anih ap4'hsahlci'ahsAn kayj8-ani'kwAha'tsin me~na'pus pehlki'hih; uhkcdte'hs5wawan tdh ani'win nisi'k say&'kcihndt'hkcin. 1Spoken with nasalized vowel. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 221 Now, of course, they did rather suspect him, but in the end Me'napus talked them into it. They built a great long-lodge. Then they all marched into the lodge, one behind the other, and Me'napus arranged a dance for them. Now this was the way he sang: "My little brotherkins, I bring some songs; Come dance with your eyes shut, Come dance with your eyes shut, Come dance with your eyes shut, Come dance with your eyes shut!" Now, while they were dancing there, he sneaked up after a while and wrung the neck of a wild goose. "Hank!" went the wild goose. Soon afterward another; "Hank!" was the noise it made. Thereupon he sang this other song: "As many of you as try to look, Red will you be at both eyes! Hey-heh, hey-heh, hey-heh, hey-heh!" But while they were dancing, the wood-duck must have taken a sly peep: there was Me'napus twisting that second wild goose's neck! "Heigh, Me'napus is killing us!" cried the wood-duck. Truly, they crowded each other, fleeing to the door and running back to the water's edge. Of course, Me'napus ran after them, and there in the water, just this far out, was the hell-diver duck swimming away, and he just reached him with his foot and gave him a hard kick. Truly, with his rump flattened down like this did hell-diver go off. "Hm, at any rate, that is the way you shall always look!" said Me'napus to him. Well, to be sure, he did have two wild geese.1 80. THE UNFAITHFUL BACKSIDE. (Kisewatohseh) Me'napus was always tramping. Now, once, what-you-maycall'em, when he had killed two brants, why then he built a fire and piled up a lot of ashes. Then Me'napus buried the brants in the ashes; only the small part of their legs stuck out. Then he threw himself down to sleep. 1 Jerome Lawe knows the rest of the story in the same form as the following text. 222 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII naMd'w, ini'2-pih tsiw-wd'p-!&7t ay6 kAnd'2s3itAM di'sikit. winipikO'wA1k iniwi'n s3 ndi'miku~a2 3k6'tdw s ndi'2tik. 'si'h, ndh-i'nih paku'Apa,)tilc; me~napus i' tsiw-d'wit; ikAt kitd'8iA2! ta2, kjs-apu,'Ah85win. pdhsAhki'Ah8An nt's sasa'lkikAta'hsinwnin as-ma'skitst'hsih s lcAno'htenA'tsin inih uts3j'h,. payyA'tua'?, di'nuw sikA'8 y6'win a'nchkAk intih mittsj'h. mukin inih mits~'h. mehku'a~nApiAn niku,'t pehki'punewin; aniwin 'ma yi'n'tua; iniwi'n niw ds-p6'nehkAk. ta'?, ki'tine'WAkin anih apu'AnAn kayes-8 minut'8init; kaIC,','kinamOeWe'Akifl anih uhkdit~h85waivan. iniwi'n tdh tsi-ydh-tdtsi'pAtukua2 inis pehki'hih aninu~hz(hkditj'h8An. mdtsi'wAkifl as ini'm-dyaydi'nitua2. nah&'wv, 'wa'!1' jwdi 'Am me?na'pus; 'tsiw-usa'mehna'2sow7Ak nita'puAnAk,' ~wd'hin me~na'puts s unita'tsikit. ta'?, Icd'?tin kinawa'pntme 'win. nah&'w, s mdk-rninu'ahkunik, iniwi'n s awMh-t~hkupekd'puwit s w~'nusah inih utsZ'h. kana'pu~min alkum nitd'pUAnAk, " kit4'ninemipah!' jtd'min inih u~tsj~h. ta'?, ydi'hpitq umdikj'win. kay&~-ind'hna9sah, iniwi'n)7-pih dsipd'hkuh pdpM-ts6'hsihnit6k inih umd'lk. 'naM'w, utii'htik mayi'tsikUAWin nini'h8Ak, a-kjw-d'pu~w~'2niIcami'samulc, tai'htik may~ 'sikuawin!' nahd-'w, ta?, ini'? tdih, iniwin kayd2ts-iiyd'ne~tuk inih ~its8j'h, ppim-ki,3i'ku~pi'hsih inis 'Is.ipd'hkuh. ta'?, int'? tdih ayit-s-1kehk~'nAMAn; ini'9 m&'waw,. 81. THE SHUT-EYE DANCERS. SECOND VERSION. (ma'sinilka'puwiw) nhd'ta2, pim6'hnewi'n lkeh rne'?napus8. s mdk-pftpim6'hnet niw, 1kAfiwi'n niw kd'k~h taydpd'puminii'1wah; mi-sdpu,'a~newin. Idi~ti'n 8a~yd'h s ni-kit6'hnet, nipi~'hseh NAh 'wiwin. md'2, ayd'k sj'?8ipAk sdmi'nukin, mihlcdVkul, wdpisi'wAk. hd', iniwi'n tdh niw s nakdi'?tat; Icawi'n uni'Akunan ani'nuh 8j'?s3ipan. iniwi'n teh tdh s nawd'ts-nd'Ikatawdi'nihtah me'2napus. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts '223 Now, this must have been the time when these hoodlums took their origin. Some Winnebagos saw the fire smoking. "Say, look at the smoke coming up there; it must be Me'napus; let's go there!" Why, he had been doing some roasting. Two brants lay there with their legs sticking out. Now, at the time when he had thrown himself down to sleep, he had first crouched down on all fours with his rear end in that direction, and had set his backside to guard them. Now, to be sure, when they came, that backside did move like this, but to no avail. When the Winnebagos got there, "Sh, be still!" they said to that backside. One of them untied a red sash; this they gave to it, and at once it kept quiet. So they pulled out those roasts, which by now were nicely done; they broke off the ends of the legs of them. Then they stuck the ends of the legs back into the ashes, end up. Off they went, laughing. "Oo-ah!" said Me'napus; "My roasts must be getting overdone," said Me'napus, lifting himself up and crawling over. Sure enough, when he looked, they were gone. So then, he went to where the fire was still making a good blaze and there stood with legs apart, scorching that backside of his. "Oh, and so now you say 'Ouch, ouch, ouch, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!' do you? Well, didn't I tell you, 'Keep careful watch over these roasts of mine,' - didn't I?" he said to his backside. And so it was all blistered and sore. When he had done burning it so, he went and rubbed off the sore on a rock. "Now then, whenever my aunts1 have nothing to eat, they will boil a watery broth of it, - whenever they have nothing to eat2." So that, then, was the way he severely scolded his backside, all the while rubbing his buttocks by sliding on the rock. Well, and that is as far as I know it; that is all. 81. THE SHUT-EYE DANCERS. SECOND VERSION. (Masinikapuwiw) Well, Me'napus was walking along. As he was walking on and on, suddenly something appeared in sight; it glittered through between the trees. "Oh, I might as well go that way!" Really then, as he came walking out from among the trees, it was a lake. Oh, those ducks, they were there in great numbers, and wild geese and swans. So then he stopped; he was not seen by the ducks. Then Me'napus first took careful thought. 1Mother's sisters and their female descendants, i. e., the human women. 2 The scab has turned into an edible lichen, cf. the following text. 224 224Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 't&'nituk y6'm pas di'hpinana'lcu.a??- hI'w, ii'?!' sa~ydh s kjs-mehkcdwd'nihtah. initwi n ds-ydh-asi'2tat, aOnd'hlcamik teh inih, papd,'m-md'wvatu~nah, utd'kumih teh as wi'hkik6'htah. k-ayis-nayd'hit, iniwi'n teh mayd'tSiAt;', tsj'k- nip~'hsehsih tdh iniwi'n inim-in&'?sit. hd'w, iniwin sa~dh as ndiwd'tua2 akuh se"?8ipAk. 'hd'w, me~napu's inum-e '2 pd'muhnet,' jwa 'kin.,ha'w, wd'ki2 teh inih ndy6'htah?' &'nu tek ni'w, 'p~n k-d'k~h ind'hk-un!' jwd'hin inu,'h nikcut. 'hd'w, pind'h kilk6'tsimun6'naw wd'ki? inih ndy6'htah!' ha'w, iniwin sa~ydh inuh ni/cut s kj'kitutawa'tsin. sheAy, me~napu's, wdi'ki? teh inik ndiy6'htaman?' indi'win. ~5A nehsv~mehS A k nildi'mwAnan a'wiwAfl. aha', nehsi'meh8Alc, pyA'kun ma'wa ni niw; kinaw-awjh-ni'miheti2 UinA'8 wahlc?4a'hlkiah!' ta'?, iniwin sa2~i'h s rndtsi'At me'?napus. iniwin teh wahkittd'hkiah imi's s awj'h-usj'htuk inih kdi'k~h ni na'p sehtd,'likan. hM', ini? sa~yeih as pyA'tua? Se?SipAk, mihk&'kuk, wd'pisi'wAk, md'wa ni niw isdh-W~'si pA/c. 'nah~t'w, nihs~'mehsA/cnij /ceh sa~ye'h as a-ni'mi/heti'yak. y3'? teh niw imis a-tasi'hsimigd/c, y~s pi'hti/c. md'wa niw niw kinapi'htike'MUAW. misi'/c teh /cinaw-/cakcipih/ci'tAMUAW; s a-ni'miye/c tek, /ci'spin wi'yA/k nf~wd'pit, a-mii'meh/cwAni/kj'?kcuw!' ha'w, ini'? /ceh sayeh s nikd'mit: 'nikcd'muAnan nipit~nand', nikcd'M'uAnan nipit6nanei', ni/cd'MUAnan nipitonana'!1' iniwin ahipd'n niw d'nahah. /ui'w, ini'? as ni'mitua? sW'8ipakc, kcaki'pih/ci'2tatua2 tek mii'wa ni niw. ni/k~tds misi'/c iniwi'n sa~yiih /cay&'nit as inii'hah: 'njkc~h ndtiiwdpiyd/di', kina-mdmdhcUApinawi'kcim, h yd' h ych yd' h ye, h yd' h ye, hyd' hye!' /hd'w, iniwi'n teh sayeh ni/cut aninuk, mis as pimi'hsiminit mih/cd'/cun, iniwin sa~yeh as ta'pip~ind'tsin uh/ci'/canih; iniwin teh ds-pi'mi/ciyawend'tsin,. iniwin teh s /cd'/itit inuh inih/Cz'k. 'hd'?!' iwd'hin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 225 "How can I do this thing to them, I wonder? - Oh yes, I have it!" and he had a plan. He went back a ways and gathered moss here and there and with his blanket made a bundle of it to carry on his back. "That will do!" When he had hoisted it to his back, he set out; to the edge of the lake he went with his load. Then the ducks caught sight of him. "There goes Me'napus," they said. "Yes, and what is that he is carrying on his back?" In vain did one of them say, "Do not speak to him!" "Oh, come, let us ask him what he is carrying on his back!" Then one of them addressed him. "Hey, Me'napus, and what may that be you are carrying on your back?" "Why, little brothers, songs are these things. Yes, brotherkins, come here, all of you; we'll go dance over there on the bluff." With that, off went Me'napus. Up there on the bluff he went and built some sort of a hut of cedar-boughs. Then came the ducks, geese, and swans, all kinds of water-fowl. "Now then, little brothers, the time has come for our dance. And this is the place where you are to dance, inside the hut here. All of you are to come inside the hut. And you are to close your eyes; when you are dancing, if anyone looks, bloodshot will be his eyes!" Thereupon he began to sing: "Songs do I bring, Songs do I bring, Songs do I bring!" that was the way he kept singing. So now the water-fowl danced, all of them with their eyes shut. Then, after a while, he changed his tune: "As many of you as peep, You'll be bloodshot at both eyes, Hyah hye, Hyah hye, Hyah hye, Hyah hye!" Then soon, when one of those geese came dancing by, he grabbed him by the neck, and wrung his neck for him. The goose. of course, squawked. "Honk!" it went. "That's it, that's it, that's it, brotherkins! Just you whoop!" 15 226 '226 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwin sa?yeh imi'nakah as kUs-aOna'tsin uhpa'hkWAnih. h'a. iniw 'tn sa '?dh mis3ik as und'pama'tsin; wa'pisiwAn teh ani'nuh iniwin mi~sik as pimi'hsiminit, msik as ta'pip~na'ts~n, misik ani'nuh as pi'miki'yawena'tsin. iniwin tek misilk as k&'kitit inuh. 'ha'? ha'?!' jwa'hin. 'ini'?, ini'?,. ii'?, mi"i?, nehsi'mehsAk! 6h,6'pikun, 3h6'pikun!' ~wa'hin. ha'?, iniwin sa'?yeh uma'nakah kay~s-a?na'tsin aninuh wa'pinsiwAn. ha'w, iniwin sa'?yeh misik nikut s una'pu~matsin; mihka-.'kun teh Misik &'WiWAnin. misik aninuh s pimi'hsiminit, iniwin 8a?yeh misi'k as ta'pipu.na'tsin, pi'mikiyawdnd&'tsin. ha,'w, iniwin misi'k as k&'kitit inuh. 'ini'?, ini'?, ini'?, mni'?,nehsi'mehsAk! h6h5'pikun, hMh6pikun!' ina win. nahd'w, ini? sa?yek inuh niku't s md'min~na'nihtah; sii'pe?8iAk teh a'wivwmn; isku' Ahtemih teh wi'nah ini'win s ta'tasi'hsimit wi'nah ap. 'a'nituk teh akum dni'tahkua?' ina'nihtAmin; 'kAn keh wi'nah kAna'pats uts-5h65'pinuwa'wan. ka'k~h niw k-A'na~pats tsiw-isj' - htqik~ew ayum me'?napus.' ha'w, iniwin sa?ya'h md'nawats y6'm as is~'?tat, as natawad'pit, ma'nawats s t-sj'?napuma'tsin md'?napuwun. a', me'?napu9 iniwi' n sa?yeh misik, wa'hta ini'win sa?yeh misik y6'm as isW'?at; kaska'mitund.'?tawin s ta'pikiyawena'tsin Wa'piSiWAn. a'ta?, inuh e sii'pe?siAk, 'hrAy, kina'?nikunawv me'?napus!' tsi'-i', rniya' ni iniwin as u~hpi'tatua?! iniwin-pih naytj'puwZ' - pahtu~k rne'?napus; isku'ahtemih inis iniwin as ana'mipa'htuk sik*i'meh; me'?napus iniwin as ni-pa-'?sits8hkd's9kawatsin siktZ'mehsAn. a,'ta?, ini? keh wj'k me'?na~pus ma waw s ini-p~cNska'hkua?. ha'?, sa?yeh usj'?s8ipiman, - u(ta'kum kay~s-sehki'kihnit~k, as a'?natsin anuh s~'?sipan. iniwin teh as nayoama'tsin as mats yA't misik. a', as mdk,-papim6'hnet, sjpe~'w kAni' win niw pd'mihneh. 'ha'w, y5'? kadh as nawats-tsipa'hki yen,' ind'nihtA'min me'?napus. iniwin pmi'm-p6'na?sit, pmi-p6'tawet. kayjs-kd'?ts-p5'tawet, haz'w, iniwin sa?yeh y6'm as ~na'hah inih pehki'h. iniwin teh, me?8i'h kayis-wand'mehkahah inih pehki'h, iniwin-~pih teh a'?natsmn aninuh u~s.'?8ipi'man, as apu'ahsit tah. kaye-,s-ya'h-y5'm-ina'Ihah inih pekki'h, pitakuha'tsin, usj,'t~wawan teh ni'sik niw iniwin saya'kihna' - hkin akuh sj'?sipak. kayjs-ka'?ts-p5'tawet ins, ha'w, iniwi'n-pih teh anad'nihtah pas nawa'ts-nipa't. 'n', nita'wats-nipd'm!' iniwin-pih mnis ka'wi?tat ini's tsikiskii'niah; iniwin-te'h-nakah d'sits~hka'hsih ini's iskii'tiah, uta's3iyan inih kay&s-pi'minah. iniwin teh ana'tsin, as kWkitu'tah inih utsvh': 'naha'w, nika'tenawa'ts-nipam; kana'pammn aku'm kisj'?sipiminawAk!' iniwin a'tah 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 227 Then he put it away, onto his back. Then soon he picked out another; when that swan came dancing past, then this one too he seized by the neck and wrung his neck too. Then this one also cried out. "Honk, honk!" it went. "That's it, that's it, that's it, brotherkins! Just you whoop, just you whoop!" he said. At once he had placed this one too on his back there. Then he picked out another; a second wild goose it was. When it, in turn, came dancing by, he seized it and wrung its neck. Then it too called out. "Honk, honk!" it went. "That's it, that's it, that's it, brotherkins! Whoop, whoop!" he said to them. Then one of them began to take thought; the Wood-Duck it was; close by the door it was dancing, along with the rest. "I wonder what sort of a noise that is they are making?" it thought; "It certainly does not seem as if they were whooping. I daresay this Me'napus is up to something." So then he just barely did like this, he peeped; just a wee look did he take at Me'napus. Why, Me'napus at that very moment truly he was doing like this, twisting his face as he wrung that wild swan's neck. Oh, that Wood-Duck, "Hey, Me'napus is killing us!" Zip, straight up they flew. Then Me'napus leaped up and ran; Hell-Diver was just running out at the door; that was when Me'napus broke Hell-Diver at the buttock with a kick. Then in their flight they broke down Me'napus' house. Now, those ducks of his, - spreading out his blanket-robe, he laid them into it. Then, carrying them on his back, he once more set out. As he walked along, he came to where a river flowed by. "Well, I'll just stop here and cook," thought Me'napus. He put down his game and set about making a fire. When he had made a good fire, then he placed the ashes like this with a stick. Then, after making a deep depression in the ashes, there he placed his fowl, to make a roast for himself. When he had put back the ashes like this, to cover them up, then only the feet of those ducks stuck out where they lay. He built up a big fire there and then decided he would take a nap. "Ho, I'll just take a nap!" So then he lay down there close to the fire; toward the fire he turned his buttocks as he lay, and his breech-clout he twisted to one side. Then he addressed his backside, saying to it: "Now then, I am going to take a nap; do you keep watch over these our ducks!" that was what he said to his backside. 15* 2 2) 8 228 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ha'w, iniwin sa~yd'h tsi-nipdi't me'2napus. akvu' teh wi'nua? ap winlipikco'wAl tsiw-inim-pimi'tsime'tua? inih sj'pjiv. h&'w, kcAni'win niw pdimd'pa?tek. 'hd'wv, awd'2 teh inuh ayd'wvit?' /ce'2tsih ini-ta'tua2 sa~yah, iniwin s ndwd'tua2 s md'skitsi'hsih me'2na pus. '&', Icad'k~h tsiw-apu'ah85w ayum me'2napus; kitd'8i'a2!' jwd'kin akci'/cuh wi'nipi/c3'WAk. iniwin s kapd'tua2 inis. ta'? teh, s tsiw-ini-mdtsyA'tua? mi's" as isi'Atula2, mnis as me'2napus8 p6'tawet, payiAta'tua2, sa~yeh kce'2tsih inim-&'wik sa~yeh, iniwi'n-pih k&.'lch a'sit~nd'?'tat inuh me'2napus u~tsj'h, s kAtd'w-a,'tsimit, kAta V-Wjhtamawa'tsin me~napu 'sun. 'si'h, piinatsimi'nun! po-n wejhtamawi'n me~napu's! kits,'~patakcan kcinaw-mj'nin,' ina'win; 'mehku 'a~nap teh!' ta'2, iniwi'n niw d's-p6'ni~tat. a'?, aki'/cuh winipi/co'wAlc, iis s MAku'ameh/cj'hneh4, iniwin y8'm as ina'hahkua2 inih pehkci'h, as mii'hkahd'hkua?. iniwin-pih teh sayiiwi'kina'tua2 anuh s~'2sipan as kcaki'sci/catdn&'tua2. iniwin-pih teh tsi-y&'h-MA/cu'amehki'hnitu/cua?. iniwi'n-pih teh ani'nuh usjtW'hAn mnis sayiisa'Iihnita'kua? imi's is'k iniwin teh s tsi-mdtsyA'tua?. ta'2, ini'2 teh as waya'simik inuh me'2napus u.tsj,'h. &', nilc~td's sa~yd'h as tsi-kcus/c'sit me'2napus, pis-6n7'win. 'hih hi', nitsip&'hk~imitsit!' s3ayeh UMA's ind'nah inih ni/cut usi't, ut&'hpinah, iniwi'n niw as-pi'hputa/k. iniwin sa~ye/h inih u/cii'nehsiah wdt&'hpinah, s MYA'kuhah inih peh/ci'h. wd'/ci2 teh a-nd'mik? lWaA h, init6wAkc kdih winu'a2 winipilco'WAk s kimii'timi'tua2!' gwa'hin; 'ini'? niw ahpd'n niw aw-inirn-isj'k/i ye/c /inqt'a2 ap,' ind'w, 'as a-/cimii'teh/ciyak!' lu''w, iniwi'n sa~ah as kUkit6tah inih. utseT'h: 'kand'pumi'n, Wcina, kit4'nine'mipah, ki'na2!' iniwin sa~eh s pmi-ni'pi~tat me'2napus. /cahka'hna~tew ni/cut s pmim-uta'hpinah. iniwin ini's utsi'h/ci, iniwin y6'm as ina'hah 'hwa' ha ha ha'!1' jwd'h: I I 5iA? I" /cinaw-ita'mipah!' ini'win a't me'2nap~us. ha'w, iniwin sa~yah tsi-ma'tsiAt. ni/cot's niw sa'2yeh ma/c-pa — pim6'hnet, /c6'?sik niw ini-tfIk'/upi'ahnewin s w~'2sa/ce'sit inih utsj'h. nkatas iniwi'n s ya'hpits-a'nawi'hisit ta'-pim5'hnet, s ya'hpits-ah/cu'ah/cAte/c inih utsej'h. a', /cute'2nas ini8 tsi-na/ca'2tat,/ca'/ch 'sipa'h/cih/ciw a'wiwin inih, - iniwin teh wah/ceta'sipeh teh mni? s aw~h-saseh/cj'hsih. ni/c~ta's iniwi'n 8a~yah s m6'/c me'?napus: 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 229 So then Me'napus must have gone to sleep. Now some of these Winnebago must have been canoeing along that river. Why, there was some smoke drifting along! "Well, who can that be?" When they got near, they saw Me'napus lying with his buttocks stuck out. "Ho, it seems this Me'napus is fixing some kind of a roast for himself; let us go there!" said those Winnebago. So they landed there. Now, when they set out to go to where Me'napus had his fire, and got there, so that they were right close by, then did that backside of Me'napus' make some kind of movement with its mouth, as though to tell, as though to inform Me'napus of what was going on. 'Hist, stop your telling! Don't tell Me'napus! I'll give you a feather for your hat!" it was told; "And a red sash to boot!" So then it kept still. Those Winnebagos, there where something made a big lump under the ashes, they moved the ashes aside like this, and uncovered what was beneath. They pulled out those ducks andbroke off the feet of them. Then they piledbackthe ashes, heaping them as if there were something underneath. They stuck those birds'-feet back there, letting them protrude. Then they departed. Thus, then, was Me'napus' backside betrayed. After a while, when Me'napus awoke, he arose. "Haw hum, come to think of it, I'm cooking!" When he took hold of one of those feet, like that, he pulled it right out. "Heigh-ho, I'm overcooking my meal!" he said. So now he took his poker-stick and pushed aside the ashes. But what was there for him to see? "Bah, I suppose it's those Winnebagos have been robbing me!" he said; "That is the way you shall always be, you," he said of them: "Thieves you shall be!" Then he adressed that backside of his: "Don't you know as well as I that I told you to keep watch over those things?" With that Me'napus arose and picked up a stick of blazing wood. Then, there on his backside, like this he applied the stick to his backside. Dear me, soon, "Hiss!" was the sound his backside made as it was scorched. "Yes, that's what you get!" he said; "You said 'Hiss!' all right, didn't you!" spoke Me'napus. Then he went from that place. After a while, as he tramped about, in the end he was walking along with his legs spread apart, for he had a pain in his backside. Came a time when he was entirely unable to walk on, for his buttocks were completely dried to a crust. He stopped somewhere, - it was a kind of rocky place, - and there, on top of the rock he went and lay at full length. Then came a time when Me'napus wept: 230 230 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I 'Vol. XII ~nitsih~,A, nitsiheA, nitsiha', nitsihjA uta'h 1inama'miydnej', nitsih~,A!, as kjs-p5'nind'2tvk mini, 'h2 h2 h2 h2!' ini'tamin me'2napus. Idi'w, awa'tukAk iniwin s8 ni'htawa'tua2. 'ha', ta'? teh, ta'? teh di'sikit me'2napus?' '6k', kjs-w~Ynusam kina2 utsWh, iniwin di'tua? awd'tukAlc. nilk~td's niw s malc-ta'tanati'mit, aku, tdh pina'w~xk ini'win winua2 ap a'tua2, 'nah&'1w, kitii'wih-sa'/cihu,'naw7 me'2napus; kik&~-mj'tsitamei'lunaw lkina2 lkinitsyA'nehsinawan,' iniwin Oa'ta alcuh pind'WALC iniwi'n tek ts3i-nawindhu'tua?. d'nehki'hsine'nik iniwi'n teh 4syA'tua2. nik,5td's3 niw as miik-m6)'k me'2napus, iniwi'n-pih wd'hpi2 -tAtua2 akum pina'wAk,-. 'tirk! a ni'wak teh as3 ini'wdk. d'jA me'2napus3 s tsj'pi~tat, iniwin nii'hsimd'hkiah ini' win as ha', iniwin s pmi'm-5njt me'2napus,, as ni-ya'h-kuhp&t imis wakkjt&'sipeh. kcayis-pi'minah inih uta'siyAn, ni2 teh a~se'nih as nimis~itsgjhkd'hsih, as inim-sii~suma'kat teh, ini'h as ni-pa'paki'hnituk inih uma'k. mii'waw kayjs-p&'paki'hnitvk, iniwi'n as pis-a'yaki'2talk ii's a?,sa'nih. iniwi'n teh a'ts me'2napus: 'ha', nise'hsxk wa'hkunAlk a-kiw-itii'mu~k y6'm nimdk; uta'htik &'sikitu'awin a-kiw-ana'muk as a-mi'ts3ilua?!' iniwin a'ts me'2napus. iniwi'n-pih misi'lc nayi'pi~tat. me~tiku,'ahSAk inis uh-kika'puwiwAkim; s ni-k~'nikCupiama'tsin. iniwin-pik &ds'pahtsi/Cdt me'2napus; ta"?, ya'hpits mehkC6'wiwakCin akCiluh me~ti/Cu'ahSAkC. 'ha'1w, nis~'hsAk mehkiipi'makCun a-kimw-itd'mulc v'h-inih; vta'hti/C d'si/Citu'awin a-kiw-5hpu'atamukC!' 82. FISHER T WI TS ME'NA P US. (/Cisj'WAt5'hseh) nikC6ta's as uskM~-pii'kateh y~m nip~'hseh, iniwin-pih tsi-MAtapi'pahtu/k; utsi'1c teh a'wiwin. pa'hpisiw, '/Cu'm, /Cu'rn, Cu,'m!' iniwa's/CAmin inih mehlcu'Am. iniwin tsiw-ina'tsin, '5A, nehsj'2, wvi'nah a' pinah nina'h ap,' ewa'hin me~na'pus., 'ini'h kAt nitei'niwa's/CAn!' kAn pas up6'nimanan. naha'w, iniwin-pih, 'nina'h ap ini'h kAts nitdniwd' paIhtAm,' ind'win. 'ta"? teh 6'h aw ise'2tayAn ini'h s aw-iniwa'pahta,'wan? nahud'w, mdskitsi'hsih,' ina'win. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 231 "My buttocks, my buttocks, my buttocks, My buttocks, I don't know what's the matter that they pain, My buttocks!" And when he stopped singing this song, then "Hk, hk, hk," went Me'napus. Then the spirit-beings heard him. "Why, what is the matter with Me'napus?" "Oh, don't you know, he has scorched his backside," the spirits said. Then at one time, as he wept in that place, those partridges, for their part, said: "Come, let us go frighten Me'napus; you know how he dunged upon our nestlings," said the partridges. So then they stealthily approached him. They went to where his.head was as he lay. Then all at once, as Me'napus wept, up started those partridges. "Trrr!" was the sound of it as they whirred. Me'napus jumped with a start and rolled hurtling down the slope. Then Me'napus got up from where he landed and climbed up again to the top of the rock. Twisting aside his breech-clout, he sat down with his buttocks to the stone, and slid down as though on a toboggan, so as to peel off and leave behind that scab of his. When he had peeled it all off, there it hung sticking all over the rock; and then Me'napus said: "Now then, Lichen will my uncles call this my scab; when they are in sore straits, then will they boil it and eat it!" said Me'napus. Then again he got up. Some bushes stood clustered there; he straddled them. Then Me'napus looked behind him: of course, entirely covered with blood were those bushes. "So now Red-Leaf (kinnickinnick) will my uncles call this; when they are hard put to it, they will use it for smoking." 82. FISHER TWITS ME'NAPUS. (Kisewatohseh.) Once upon a time, whenthis lake was newly frozen over, someone ran down upon it; it was a fisher. Of course, it sounded "coom coom, coom!" as it ran upon the surface of ice. Then he said to it, "Why, Little Brother, please, please, please, me too," said Me'napus, "let me too make that sound when I step on it!" He would not stop bothering him. Then, "Let me too make that noise when I run," he begged him. "Why, how can I bring it about that you make this noise when you run? Well, crouch down on all fours." 232 232 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ta'2, min niwtd'h tsiw-utj'?sikA'nit. ay5'w wvinak iniwi'n s wa'tske8am~w&'tsin inih utsej'h. iniwi'n tih s kitsit&,'tsihtuwd'tsin inih hid'tih. nah&'w, kay~s-aku'ApitUW&'tsin kd'k~h inis utd'tihih, 'naha'w, mis1dki'pahtu~h!' in&.Ywin me~na'pus. ta'2, iniwi'n-pih md'sdkd'pahthk. sikA8 ni'wi ihpih ta'yat, k~td's icawin un6'htAnAn ldi'k~h s pas pis-nil'htAlci'hneh. dnii'pit utfIti'mih, hi Amanewa n ihpih sdpdpi'hninin inih t~i'tih! ta'2, iniwt 'n ni s nak&'?tAt; imis aydits-s&'kihneh, ini'win s Wk#scinah me~ti'kuh. iniwin s titdpdi'hkiwe'pinah. 'nahj&'w, nini'hsAk nap y6Am a-ki -m~'suk, ut& 'htik ma yi'tsikuawin!' nah&'uw, ini2 m&'w aydits-1kehki'naman. 83. ME'NAPUS AND THE BUZZARD). (Jerome Lawe.) nikc-t&'s keh me~na'pus as tsi-md'kc-pdpim5'hnet, IcAni'win niw naydwdi'tsin Wi' y~n isj'kiwAn ispdAmi 'ah as tsiw-pap4i'mi~nenit. cnim~iA2!' y~wi'n niw iin&'pumatsin. ~nimJA, ndi'2s ni'nah ap isp4 myah k-At nipdi'pam-na'min!' ind'nihtAmin me~na'pus. iniwi'n-pih sa~ya'h ndi'tumatsin. CCA nehsj'2, pye'nun!' indi'win. ta'2, pi'win; apa'skAsiW tah d'wiwin. 'a' pinah, nehsj'2, papdm5'mina2!' ind'win. 'si'h, pinah kami'nah kinah, me~na'pus! kAn pas kikdi'tisku'minenan; tdi2 6'h aw-isj'2tayah?' iku'ahin. 'ii' pinah, nehsW'2 n&'s kAt! ninaw-nahdi'nis8im htih!' irnd'win me'2napus. ta'2, iniwi'n kdh sa2 yd'h WAhkj'ts uhpi'hlkwAnih tsiw-a'pit. pa'hpis3 ta2 uhpj'2tawin apd'skAsiw as tsiw-papii'me~net. 'ape~si'lk, nehsj'2, spd'miah!' kiw-indi'win. dA, ahk6'2s3ik siw usd'waskuApuminii'kwAtin y~m ahkj'w. iniwinpih sa~ydi'h apd?'s3kAsiW tsi-min~nd'nihtah ktt'taw-ihpdi'natsin me'2 -napusun as kAt4'W-pAn5M.d'tsin. as md'k-niw-papii'mi~net, iniwi'npih y6"ifm ds-kutdi'ki~tAt; di"hpdin di'win me'2napus. hiA, me~na'pus sa~yd'h tsiw-uht&'kutsih, hi', misi'k Ikutd'w kiw-i'nim-ina'nihtAmin. 'wd'ki2 tdh wi'nah nipi'hih pdi'pehtsinan?' misi'lk kdh niw kute'w kiw-i'nim-ind~'nihtamin. nik6'ds ahpdn a 'win kii'hkinah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 233 WTell, it seems that he had a knife, to boot. So now he cut in a circle round the other's anus. Then he pulled out his intestine for him. Then, after he had tied something or other on there to his intestine, "All right, run across!" Me'napus was told. So then he started to run across. When he had gone some distance, after a while he no longer heard that thing banging along behind him. When he looked back, why, for a long ways his intestine was lying strung out! So right then he stopped; as much of it as was hanging out he broke off against a tree. Then he flung it so that it wound round the tree. "Now then, my aunts, at any rate, shall eat this when they are hard up for something to eat!"'1 Now, that is all, as far as I know it. 83. ME'NAPUS AND THE BUZZARD. (Jerome Lawe.) Once upon a time when Me'napus was tramping along, he saw some kind of creature flying round aloft. "Well!" He stared at it. "Oh, I wish I too could go about up there and see the world!" thought Me'napus. Then he called it. "Oh, Little Brother, come here!" he said to it. So it came; it was a buzzard. "Oh, please, Little Brother, carry me round on your back!" he asked it. "Why, that is just your silly way, Me'napus! I couldn't carry your weight; how should we ever do it?" it said to him. "Oh, please, little Brother! I shall make myself small!" Me'napus told it. Then accordingly he took his seat on top of its back. Thereupon, then, the buzzard flew up and flew about. "Higher, Brother, higher!" he kept saying to it. Oh, at last this earth seemed just a surface of yellow vegetation. Then the buzzard must have decided to dispose of Me'napus by dropping him from its back. While flying round, it gave a jerk, like this, with its body; that was the last of Me'napus. Oh, as Me'napus fell through space, oh, of all kinds of things he thought on the way. "And what if I fall into the water?" Yes, he thought of all kinds of things on the way. All at once, it was the last he knew. 1 That is, the entrails are turned into a vine that is edible in infusion. 234 24Publications American Ethnological Society 'Vol. XII nike~td's niw pis3-kehkcj'namin. nimdA2, uma'wvin-pih niw WiyAlc payt'sisikana'hsih! 'pihwd'A! pinah kuhkj'w kinah ap isi'8ilkAna'hsih!' jwd'hin. paya'lkwAt8 winesa'? niw usi'kAn tsiw-d'wik,- t-si-kes-puZ'hlcilsih. wdA, iniwin kd~'h nap kayj's-miyd'Wi?tAt, ta', iniwi'n-pih kdih,sa?yeh wayd'puhnet. 'and'mikut, apa'skAsiw, wjki ni'w kina-tdi'pinin, s a-tipii'haman y~m dt'hpina3i yen!' ejwd Iin me?na'pus3. ta'?, -s mdk-pd'pim6'hnet, kAni'win kdh niw AMaI's/usuk p.'i'mimtasi'?tAtUa?. 4,A, nehs~meh8Ak, kikdi'?ts-vnnd'i'MuAW! &' pinah nina'h ap Ama's/kus kAt nitk'wim!' in&'win me?napu's. '&&i'h, pi'nah kami'nah ki'nah, me?na'pus! ta? awv-issj'?ta yak? nina'? ap nikjs-isi'htsikcasimi'naw,' ~wd'kin. 41. pinah, nehsj'Meh8Akc, nd's kAt!' ta'?, iniwi'n k-dh tsiydT'w sa?yd'h AmaI's/ens as tsiw-isj'hih. 'nd's kAt niw kAt nim4'?nikenim,' jwd'hin; 'ta'?, nine'? 6?nd'hs3imaw ay&'wiyen; misi 'k mamd'h-ni'winAk as aw-ei'witua?!' kd'?tin iniwi'n lcdh sa?yd'h Md't8-AMa's3kus as tsiw-d'wit. a's pipi'm-tdth-wits3i'wikcit, nik~td's iniwin sa?yii'h mahwii'wAn as tsiwpim~'nisih~bkn'tua?. ta'?, me?na'pus as me~ni'lcinit, misi'k teh mamd'h-wj'winAn as tsiw-d'winit, as tsiw-inim-dyitd'hki1&sih, iniwi'n as Ata'mikut mahw#d'wAn, as tsiw-ne?ni'kut. naha'w, iniwin-pih s3a?yd'h W~'yAk isj'1ciwAn tsi-m6'kut, nd'htikulk winu'a? ap, as tsiwkdkitsiy&t'pahuku~t. kayj8-yd'hpits-kitd'muh, m6'8ah nisi'k uhkdi'nan aOte 'wAnin. iniwi'n-pih sa?ydh tsi-pi'At apdi'skAs3iW. wdi'ts niw imi' win as pis3-ndi'pit; di'nu, niw k6?ta'min; p6'ts teh niw pi'win. imi's anei'myah uts~hkih, iniwi'n mitsi' niw wjnin5'hseh as tsiw-ayaki'?tAk; iniwi'n kdih apti's8kAsiw as pi'htehki'?tAt, imi's teh as tsiw-aya?si'kuhah ini'h wjnin5'hseh. nik~tdi's winah me?na'pus pipi'm-kas3ki'kupi'tawin as tsiw-u'njt. iniwin-pih 8a?yd'h tsi-Mii'tsyAt me?napu,'s. nit's teh niw pdpi'mispdhpdi'?tAt apli's/cAsiw me?na'pus utiitif'mih, lkini"s keh niw papa'miAnd'win me?na'pus3. nik5td's kdih pipi'm-pa~c~tsikUPiAm4'win. uhwdA, apdi'skAsiW siwas kahkd'wata'piwin; ya'hpits mAm6'?tsikite'hpewin. 'nahM'w,' indi'win me?naPun's, I ii'? niw ahpd'n aw-i'nim-isjnJi'ku.siyan, ahkj'w aw-d'ts-tAlktk!' ini'win as ini'm-ma'VtsiAt me?na'pus,. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 235 After a while he came to. Why, there was someone lying with his hinder part that way! "Pew! Just you lie with your hind part pointing some other way!" he said. But it turned out that it must have been his own hind quarter; he must have broken in two in his fall. Wow, poor fellow, when he had fixed himself back straight, then he again started walking. "Dirty dog of a buzzard, I'll catch you just the same and pay you for what you have done to me!" said Me'napus. Then, as he was tramping along, suddenly there were some elks grazing about. "Oh, little brothers of mine, you are very handsome! Please, do let me too be an elk!" Me'napus said to them. "Pshaw, that's just like you, Me'napus! How are we to do it? We were made to be like this," they said. "Oh, please, Little Brothers, please!" So then, there was nothing else to do, he was made an elk. "Come, let me be the biggest one," he said, "Seeing that I am the eldest one; and let my antlers be the biggest." And really then, he must have been a huge elk. But as he then went about with the others, at one time they were pursued by wolves. Now, when Me'napus, being the biggest and having large antlers, got caught among the trees, the wolves overtook him and killed him. Then all kinds of creatures ate him, including the crows, who dug out his eyes. When he had been entirely eaten up, only his bones lay there. That was when Buzzard came. It came and settled a ways off yonder; of course it was afraid, but none the less, it came. There, inside his anus a little lump of fat meat was still sticking; and so Buzzard stuck its head in there, pecking at that lump of fat there with its beak. Suddenly Me'napus drew shut his anus and rose up. "What does this fellow amount to?" he said to it. Then Me'napus started out. As much as it pleased did the buzzard there flap its wings in the rear of Me'napus; for a long time did Me'napus carry it round with him. At last he did let it go from his anus. Alas, there sat Buzzard, reeling; its head was entirely bald. "Now then," said Me'napus to it, "This is the way you shall always continue to look, as long as the earth shall endure!" said Me'napus to it, as he started away from there. 236 236 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 84. ME'NA PUS AND THE PORCUPINE. I(nehts.i'wvihtuk) kit dmi' kek nik6'tds pd'pim5'hnewin as pap.d7'm-pahp~'sit. hj'w, nik~tdi's iniwin as nd'm~ik md'ts-sj'pjvw. ha' njnj'puwitsi'piah, h&'w, akd'miah ini 's wdihts3ita 'w iniuwi'n as mimn 'Apurnina'kwak. W&, nii'2s tsiyii'w aka'miah kAs nitd'SiAm as a-papa, m-pahpi'siyen,' ind'nihtA'min kitii'miwl; 'lu'w, vma'nakah nu'akowv kAs nita'siAm; nawinii'2s ninaw-wi'hkihe'sim kute~na 's as aw-isi'yen akd'miah,' indnihtA'min kitd'miw. hdi'w, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt, nu'ak~w as isi'At. hdi'w. as md.'k-kehniw-p.Xpim6'hnet kitd'miw, hdi', lcAni'Win leek niwi payi'tuhnet mdi"tspis4'hlciw. ha w, in~iuii'n keh as miyji'hlkiWA'tsin. i'aT 'w, ak& 'miah nikd 'taw?-isi 'Am; nziti 'nawvihisi'm as kAta'w-aka'miah-isi'yen,' ind'win pis3i'hkiw)An. 'naha'W, kitemi 'w, kinaw-aui'a 'nin akdi'miah,' iku 'akin pisd'hkiwAn. 'hti'w, ta'? tih 6'h s aw-ape' yen?' ind'win kiti'mi. 'ha'w, j'h -akum nC'winAk sak&'hki~ta'h.; nj,'sih UMAs apj' nun,' ind'win. 1&TW, nis65'w, ta2 tdh, y6'm saldi'hki?tdh; kAn kinau/-p/i'pehtsind'nan,' ind'win pisei'hkiw. 'kd'ta2, ta2 te'h, *Yk-UMAs nitsj'kkih pihtike'nun,' ind'wzin pisa'hkiw. ~ilAiniA?, ini^)9! lAn nina-pyd'pehtsind'nan nipi'hih; leAni'w ha'w, pisd'hleiw iniwi'n-pih tay6'hkeinah inik uts~'h; ninuiA2, keitd'miw iniwin leeh as pi'htikeettsikeit; utsj'hkeih an&,'miah imi'win as awjh-d'yapit. ku', kayis-pi'htikeet, pi'htike ini'win s d'yapit keiti'miw. ha'w, uma'nakeah as keiw-an&'pit, ume'w.in-pih niu' kdi'k6h ki-n&'mike 'ha'w, y6'? keh kAnA'pats utd'h tsiw-&'wile j'h-ayum pisd'hleiw,' ka'w, pisd'hkeiw wi'nak iniwvi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt ak&'miah as i~i'At. h&Ata, leitdimi'w, 'nah&'w, nina-ne'2naw,' indi'nihtAmn nia mu'1aw, k&is-ne~na'k.' ind'nihtA'min. 'ha'w, ini? kAna'pats sa~yd'h tsi-kis-aku,'A~tat umAs si'piah,' ind'nihtAmin kitd'm iw. ini'win-pih us6,8'wih inih ni'kut upd'tsisleahj'klan kayi'2tinah leitei'miwv. inih utei'h umdi'hpih niw i'kutele, ini'win pd'tsisleahah inih us~d'hlahjkan. mdi'wa niw le&'htsinamuwe'wvin ini's utd'hih pis'i'hleiwAn,.5hwd', pisd,'hleiw leAni'win keh niw kdi'leh dt'sikit. pisd,'heiw). 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 237 84. ME'NAPUS AND THE PORCUPINE. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Once upon a time Porcupine was tramping about, hunting. Then, at one time, he saw a big river. As he stood there by the river, why really things looked beautifulover there, at the other side of the water. "Well, I do suppose I ought to go to the other side to go hunting," thought Porcupine; "Well, let me go downstream; perhaps I shall manage somewhere to get to the other side," thought Porcupine. So then he started off downstream. Then, as Porcupine was accordingly walking along, suddenly there came a big cow walking that way. Then it met him. "How are you, Porcupine? Whither are you bound?1" it asked Porcupine. "Why, I want to go to the other side; I can't get across," it told the cow. "Very well, Porcupine, I shall take you across," the cow told him. "But where am I to sit?" Porcupine asked it. "Why, hold on to my horns here; sit there on my head," it told him. "I shall fall!" said Porcupine. "Well, then hold on to my tail here; then you won't fall," the cow told him. "Dear me, I shall fall into the water!" said Porcupine. "Well then, go into my backside there," the cow told him. "That's it, that's it, that's it! I shan't fall into the water; when we get to the other side, then I shall come out!" So then the cow spread open its backside, and lo and behold. Porcupine did then crawl inside; inside its anus he went and sat. Porcupine entered and sat inside there. Now, when he looked over in that direction, Porcupine saw something there. "There, I suppose that must be this cow's heart," thought Porcupine. As for the cow, it now started off to go to the other side. But Porcupine thought, "Now then, I shall kill it; when I have killed it, I shall eat it," he reflected; "There, by this time it has probably come out of the stream," reflected Porcupine. Then did Porcupine draw out one of his spikes from his tail. There where that heart hung, a little ways off, he jabbed it with that spike of his. The whole length of it he shoved into the cow's heart. Oh dear, then something happened to the poor cow. "Oh, oh, something is wrong! What is this that is happening to me?" thought the cow. 1 This question is part of the usual Menomini greeting. 298 238 Publication~s, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 5hwj,', nikc~td's keh niw kAni'win niw pdi'miw-wd'paku,'tsih s 'wd'ki2 teh wi'nah, nipi'hih pJ'pehts8ih?' indi'nihtArnin. h&', irni's sa~yeh s lkAta'w-,gakisita'tsikit, mdi'nawats umd'win Wninamuwa'tsin inih 6tse'h. hii'w, ini'win teh wdh-tsqj2napdi'htsikcet as k6'2tah nipi'hih s a-pd,'pehtsih inuh pisd'hkiw. hd'w, ahkci'hih mmn ta? kitd'miw. ha'ta2, kawin kdi'k~h utj'?sikan. h&"? teh aw-is~'?tAt kitdmi'w as a-mi't~sihsit? iniwi'n keh ndnZ'puwit, tdtsj'2napumd'tsin pisd'hlkiwAn. 'nah&'w, WiYAIk iAts nipa'pam-nat~nd'hiiw; naweind'2s wi yAk a~s~'kan tsiw-a'2taw, tsi-ta'ndm,' indt'nihtAmin kitdi'miw. iniwi'n-pih maya'tSiAt: WAna'nipih irniwi'n-nakah a,'siAt. 'utah diwd'yan pisd'hkiw s kAtdW-WZ'nanj'hak!' Zwd'hin as pimA5'hnet. hiA, iniwi'n keh niw ah pdA n niw padmi'w-itdh: 'utah dwd'yan pisii'hkiw s kAtdiW-W~'nanihak! utah dwd'yan pisd'hkiw s kAtiiWwZ'nanj'hak!' ha'w, ini'win as n6'htawatsin me~na'pus kitdmi'WAn. 'utah dwd'yan Pisdi'hkiw tdiw-wZ'nane~hAkc! nikjs-ne'2naw,' jwi'hin kitd'miw. dhAnh',nhs'2 nehsW', nehsZ'2, 1itdnini'?tdi'm, kitdnini'2 -tam, kitdnini'2tam, Icitdni ni'tam, nehsj'2!' intd'win me~na'pus; 'wei'htsita kdi'2tin kWhkAn nita'2sikAn! nitd'?sikAn kinaw-aw~'hin,' ind'win; 'tdi2imi's,' tii2ini's? kina-wi'tsi"'An, kina-wi'tSi'An, nehsZ'2, kina-wj'h-nd'tamun s a-w~'nanihat!' ha'w, iniwi'n keh wdih-mdtsyA'tua2, pisd'hkiWAn 8 awjh-winAnihaW'tua2. payiAta'tua2, nimdA2, wd'htsita lkd'2tin md"ts-pisd~'hkiw siwA'8 sehk,'hsinin, tsi-ke~s-ne~na'tsin kitd'miw. h&'w, me~napu,'s ut&'2sikan mi'm-mamu'ahin wZ'nanih&'tsin pisd'hkiWAn. ma'waw kayis-ts*j'hsinatsin ani'nuh pisd'hkiWA'kutmAn, ini'u'in-pih teh lkayi'slkisu'atsin, wj'nanihd'tsin. nimd'2, siimi'natin winin6'hseh, Ickiiskisu'atsin me~na'pu~s. hd'ta2, kitd'miw uta'hpinAmin wi'nin6'hs8eh as kAtdwm08tik; me'~napu,'s wi'nah iniwi'n-pih td'hkiskawa'tsin kitami'wAn, 'Andhsa'nun ~'h-UMAS! mdtsi'ah! wdi'htsita kd'2tin kina-kdt'2tsne~ni'n!' ind'win me~na'pus kitdmi'WAn. 5hwd', kitdi'miw wd'?naw imi',w~in as pei'pehtsih as tahkd'skuh. kayj~q-nipi~tAt, ini'win-pih maya'tSiAt kitdi'miw as usi'mit. silcAs ni'w ihpih payi"'Atdt, ini'win as nakii'2tat kitd'miw. iniwi'n teh wdh-k~t&t72,napu~ma.tsin, me~napu'sun winan~'htsike'nit, kdlki'As5ha'tsin. hii'w, nik~td's5 keh ini'win m&'waw s U~s-kdki'skiSUAtsin me~napu's ani'nuh pisd'hkiwAn; hii'w, iniwi'n me~napu's s pitdi'kuha'tsin. 'hdi'w, nina-pis-kim5'timik inuh kitdi'miw,' indi'nihtAmin mne~na'pus. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 239 Oh dear, then after a bit, suddenly it toppled and fell. Then did Porcupine start to crawl out. "But what if it has fallen into the water?" he thought. So then, as he was about to crawl out, he spread its anus a bit. From there he then looked out, lest the cow should have fallen into the water. However, he saw dry land. Then did Porcupine proceed to crawl forth. "Hurrah, truly now I shall have good eating," thought Porcupine. But now, he had no knife. How was Porcupine to eat? There he remained standing, looking at the cow. "Well, suppose I look round for someone; someone surely must have a knife," thought Porcupine. Then he went from there; upstream was the direction he took. "I haven't anything to skin a cow with!" he said, as he walked along. That was what he always kept saying: "I haven't anything to skin a cow with! I haven't anything to skin a cow with!" Now, that was when Me'napus heard Porcupine. "Heigh, Little Brother, what's that you're saying?" asked Me'napus. "I haven't anything to skin a cow with! - - I have killed one," said Porcupine. "Oh, Little Brother, Little Brother, Little Brother, good for you, good for you, good for you, Little Brother!" said Me'napus to him; "My knife is really very sharp. I will lend you my knife," he told him; "Where is it? Where is it? I'll go with you, I'll go with you, Little Brother; I'll go help you skin it." So accordingly they set out to go skin the cow. When they got to the place, lo, there indeed lay a big cow which Porcupine had killed. Me'napus took his knife to skin and cut up the cow. When he had taken off all the hide, he cut up the cow into the usual cuts. Oh, there was a great deal of fat meat, when Me'napus cut up the cow. Well, Porcupine picked up a piece of fat meat and was going to eat it; but Me'napus kicked Porcupine and drove him away. "Get out of here! Be off! I will surely beat the life out of you!" said Me'napus to Porcupine. Poor Porcupine landed a long ways off, from that kick. When he had got on his feet, Porcupine went away in flight. A little distance off, Porcupine stopped. From there he kept watching Me'napus do the butchering, and hid from him. The time came when Me'napus had cut up all of that cow; and then Me'napus covered it up. "That Porcupine will come and steal from me," thought Me'napus. 240 240Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII me~ti'kWAn me~si'h iniwi'n as a~na'tsin wahk~'ts, as pitdi'Iuhatsin ani'nuh pisd'hk,-iWAn. m&'wau' kayjs-pfi'ts-pitdi'kuhats3in, iniwi'n-pih kayj'wd~t, WEj'WAnl as ndind'tsin misi'k teh unitsi'AnehsMn. 'hiiW, Y6'2 keh niw as awv-pits-miimi'tsihsi'yah, mdimi'sihsitua2 nimd.''tim6'hsem ninitsi'Anehs~k; kAts nit&'wih-nt5md,'WAk,' jwd'hin me~napu's s kIY'wdt. wdi'htsita k,-i'2tin me~napu's3 iniwi'n s kd,'2ts3-wd'pRt, wj'pats s kAtd'w-mi'tsihsit; pit~si'k niw k62ne'win kitdmi'WAn s a-kim6'temikut. h&'wv, payiAtd'Wipdi'htukIW'WAn, pihtike'pahtuk, h&'ta2, 'pisdhki'w, pisv'i"hki'w nkjs-ne~mnd'uw; kipits3-nAt6'mine 'M-uAWmii'wa ni'w!' ind'win wj'wAn unitsi 'Aneh8An. nim&,A2, ta2, pVu'AWi~tawA'kin; wdi'htsita kd'2tin ini'win s mini'niIhtak mita'muih; nitsi'Anuk wd'htsita kd,'i'tin mini'nihtAMu'k('.in s kAtdwIdi'?ts8-mi'ts3ih~situ~a2. iniwi'n keh ni papei'hpis3 as mats yA'tua2. hd't~a?, ay6' uwinak kit&'miw, kay~~s-mditsi'Anit me~napu'sun, ini'win-pih mnis d'nawi'mit upd'sehki'AmAn. payiAta'Wipa'htuk., maMiAkwa'pinAMin ani'nuh, me~ti'kWAn, tsi-kjs-pitd'kwahjIkdt me'2napus. mni's ts3j/k si'piah ini'win as tsj'patsih ma'ts-askii'h. 'hd'wv, y5'2 keh spd'miah s awjoh-a~ta'wan y6'm m~tsim~'hseh,' niku't aninuh pis3d'hki WAn ut&'hpinewin kitd'miwv, ispa'miah askdi'hkuh s awjh-a~na'tsin. ma'wa niw awdndi'win kitd'"miws~p4'miah s awjh-a~na'tsin ani'nuh pisd'hki wAn. ma'waw spd'miah kayjsaOna'tsgin, hdfi'w, ini'u'in teh, wi'nah mdmi'tqih~sit kit d'miw. kayestdi'pinit, ini'win-pih ini's andipj'hsihsih s a'yapit kiti'miw. hd'uw, nik~td's keh niw kAni'win niw payitii'wane'titua2 me'?nalpus wj 'wAn misi' k tdh unitsi'AnehsAn, pis-piAtatua2 ini's as tsi-kU'saOnatsin aninuk. pisii'hkiWAn, nima'?, kawin p6's kd'k~h pj'wa?te'WAIl, m&'wa niw ts3i-kjq-awdnii't.3in ki~t'miw. 'h~hwd', ki'nah, #jh-y5'pa? ke'h s kj's-ne~na'k pisd'hkiw!' indi'win We'wVAn unitsi'Anehs~n; 'naw~nd'?8 kitd'miw jh-y5'2 as ki'S-piAt; at'a2, mehki'h nisi'k nd'mukin ini's s tsi-k&~-winan~'htsiket. &A, iaku'Ane~nAki'nihtAmin mitd~'muh as kim6'imikutua2 kitdmi'wAn. Iud'ta?, me'2napqus, hud'nuw mis?'k kutd~nas ki-pim6'hnewin ntdtt;d'pahtah m.j'tsimj'hseh s aw-a'2tek; yahpi'ts ki'nune'hamin. hd'w, nik8'tds si'piah ini'win d'siAt, - hjAy, pd2si'k niw is8pd'hkiwiwin inih sWp~w as pim~'hneh, - ini'win ts'k as aw4h-n~'puwit, nipuwi'tua2 aki'kuh nitsi'Anuk tslk si'piah. nipi'hih imi's as anud'pitua?, niMdA?, ani'mipik imi's mitsimi'hiseh Si WAS uhki'hnenin, and'mipik; Anape'hs.ihsih ini's, ini'win wina'h ap k-itd'miw as api't, ani'mipik. ndiwd'tu~a2 aki'kuh me~napus6'hsAk nttsi'Anuk, 'nuhnd'2, ayum-d A?, kitami~w!1 nipi'hih andi'miah inum-d'2! misi'k tdh mitsimi'hseh ini'2 di'2tek!' ju'id'kin aki'kuh me~napus6'hsAk. hd'ta2, ine'2napus, n6'hpimih ini'win as papd'muhnet, nit~ndihd'tsin kitdMi'WAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 241 Then he laid on many branches, to cover the cow. After carefully covering all of it, he went home to get his wife and his children. "There, now at any rate we shall have good eating here, a plenty to eat for my wife and children; I'll just go call them," said Me'napus on his way home. That, truly, was when Me'napus ran fast, in his hurry to begin eating; he was somewhat afraid that Porcupine might rob him. When he had run all the way to where his wife was, he came running into the lodge: "A cow, a cow I have killed; I am coming to call you all!" he told his wife and children. Oh, of course, they were hungry; truly glad was the woman then, truly glad were the children, that they were to have a big feast. And so they set out at once. Now, as for Porcupine, when Me'napus had gone away, he headed straight for his cow. He ran all the way and threw aside those branches which Me'napus had used for covering. There by the edge of the stream stood a tall white-pine. "Now then, right up here I shall go put this meat," Porcupine decided. Porcupine picked up a piece of the cow and went and placed it way up in the pine-tree. All of the cow did Porcupine take away, setting it up aloft. When he had put it all up there, then did Porcupine eat and eat. When he had enough, Porcupine remained seated a little ways off from there. After a while, of course, in single file came Me'napus and his wife and his children. When they reached the place where he had left that cow, why, not the least thing was lying about there; all of it must Porcupine have taken away! "Oh dear, just think, why, right here was where I killed the cow!" he told his wife and children; "I suppose Porcupine has been in this very place; I suppose Porcupine must have stolen it from me," he said to his wife. They saw only some blood, where he must have skinned it and cut it up. The woman thought it a shame that Porcupine had robbed them. In vain Me'napus kept walking hither and thither looking for the meat; he could not find it at all. Then at one time he went to the river, - rather high were the bluffs where that river flowed by, - and off there by the bank he stood. As those children stood there by the river's edge and looked down into the water, why, under the water there lay a pile of meat, under the water; and off a little to one side, there sat Porcupine, too, under the water. When those youngsters, the little Me'napuses saw him, "Father, here he is, Porcupine! There he is, underneath the water! And there is the meat, too!" said the little Me'napuses. Now, Me'napus was walking about over yonder, away from the stream, looking for Porcupine. 16 242 24~2 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII wdip~' win me~napu,'s as ind'wimit ini's ts8Ik 8s'piah. ho'w, payiAta'as uhki'hneh, and'mipik! kitd'miwv ii' win niw wi'nah ap andpe~'hsihsih as ii'yapit. 'hat'w, nina-ne~na'w! nina-nC 'i 'n!' ~w& 'hin me 'napus. up~'hsehka'kan mi-kci'sehkA'min me'2napus. hM'w, ini' win niw wdh-Icu'ahnet nipi'hih: 'syAh6AW!l and'mipilc imi'win s mi'-nit~tsi'nah inih mRnsimi'hseh, misi'k teh kitami' WAn mi'W-nitiitsin&'tsin. h&'w, salca'nah payi'hkana'mit, ini'win-pih pits-aku'AtsiMet; nimd'2, ndslkd'n pahpdndi'muwin me'2napus! 'whhw!' iwdi'hin me~na'pus, pihkand'mit min's anii'miah nipi'hih as i'SiAt. h&', pits-aku.'a~tawin. Chd'w, ha?s3e'n, ha~se'n nit~ndi'hehkun!' ind' win we w,-n unitsi'AnehSAn. MI'w, mdts3-a~se'niAn ini'win as mehkdiwd'tua2. 'hd'w, ayum-d'2, nuhnd'2, md'ts-a~sen!' h&'w, iniw~i'n as pina'tsin me'2napus. hd'w, iniwin-pih ldi'hkap Icehpind'win ani'nuh a~se'nyAn. h&'w, iniwin-pih teh umA's uhki'kanih y6'win as kehpind&'tsin ani'nuh mdts-a~se'nyAn. h&'w, ini'winpih teh misi'lc kayu'ahnet nipi'hih; ini's tdh inih mjtsim~'hseh as payd'pehtsih, nit~tsi'nah inih m~tsim~'hseht; hd'ta2, icawin kd'1cdh umi'hlcutsina'nan. hMt, nilk~td's keh sa~ye'h misi'k payi'hlkandi'mit s kAtdt-na'hnet, ini'win-pih kd'taw-n~'pi~tAth hd'2, me~napu's iniwi'n niw as d'nawi'hisit lkAtd-ni'pi~tAt nipi'hih an&'myah. kR'2, ta'2, as kiwanesi'ahlcasit, kawi'n uwihicihe 'sinan as kAtdW-ni'pi~tAI. h&',5 nilk6'tdsg kawin p6ts ukd'hkinanan as mZ's4t; ta2, imi's s taftd'1ana'mit, ini'win as m2'st. hd'ta2, alcuh mitd'muh misilo alki'kuh me~napus6'h8Ak pd'n niw tsj'2napa'htsikce'wAk-in mnis nipi'hih; ha'w, nilc~td's8 kek niw IcAni'win niw nayd'mikua2 me'2napus umi'h as pi'makah imi's nipi'hih. lhj"Ay, k6'hninaw sa~ye'h m~mZ'tsinandw kitdmi'WAn!' juw-'kin aki 'kuh me?napus6 'h8Ak. wd'h~ts-ita kd'2tin iniwi'n mdni'nihtd'hku-a2: mitii'muh~ wi'nah ap d~ydyd 'niwin kitdmi'wAn as ne'2natsin me~na'pus. 'h&'w, ini'? kdh s a-kdi'2ts-mi'tsihsi'yah,' Zwd'kin me~napus5~'hSAk. nimd'2, me'?napus winah saka'nah imi's andt'm~ipik as d'nawihisit s5 kAtd'w-akuA~tAt. ta?, ani'nuh md'ts-a?8eni'An y6'win uhki'kanih s k&s-ha~si'tahpin&'tsin, ani'nuh a~se'niAn. yd'khpits teh cd'nawihis65'win kAtaw-n~'pi~tat. hd'w, nik~tds kdih na'p ini'win as wvi'UHihatsin ani'nuh a9seni'An, pehlc~nd'tsin. hdow, wd'htsita kd'?tin nds8kii'n ini' win as akud'A~tAt. hd', me'?napus md"ts-um6't; nip~'w me~si'h minu'ahin. h&'ta?, mitd'mqih y5'win niw dnii'pum.a'tsin ukdi'?ts-indni'AMAjr. Md'tsq 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 243 "Right, Son, he is the one! He stole it from me!" Me'napus broke into a run, heading for the river's edge. When he had run all the way, and looked down yonder into the water, lo and behold, there lay the meat in a heap, under the water! And Porcupine, too, a little ways off to one side there he sat. "There, I'll kill him! I'll get it!" said Me'napus. Me'napus went to work and took off his jacket. Right then he jumped from there into the water: "Splash!" Down there under water he felt about for that meat, and for Porcupine as well. When he was nearly dead for want of air, he swam to the surface; oh, Me'napus just barely got to the air in time. "Whew!" went Me'napus, what with being almost drowned when he went under the water. Then he came on shore. "Well now, a stone, look for a stone!" He told his wife and children. Then they found a big stone. "Here, Father, is a big stone!" Then Me'napus brought it there. He tied a rope to the stone. Then he tied that big stone like this, round his neck. Then he jumped into the water again; right straight to where that meat layhe jumped. He fell into the water there and groped for that meat; he did not come upon anything. At last, when again he was almost stifled for want of breath, he tried to get on his feet; ho, then Me'napus was unable to get up on his feet under water there. He struggled but could not stand up. And then, without his knowing it, his bowels moved; as he strained for breath, his bowels moved. Now, the woman and the others, the little Me'napuses were unceasingly looking at the water there; then suddenly at one time they saw Me'napus' dung coming up there in the water. "Hey, now Father is knocking the guts out of Porcupine!" cried those little Me'napuses. Then truly they were delighted; even the woman laughed, because Me'napus was killing Porcupine. "Well, at last we shall have our feast!" said the little Me'napuses. Alas, as for Me'napus, he was nearly dead there under water, being unable to get out. For like this he had tied that big stone round his neck. He was altogether unable to stand up. At last the poor fellow managed to untie the stone. Really, he just scarcely managed to come out of the water. Oh, big was Me'napus at the belly; much water had he drunk. The woman merely stared at her husband. He was a fat man now, 16* 244 244 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII in&'niwv a wiwvin, ta'?, mii's-umo-'t, nip~'w me~si'h as lk&'htah. 5hwd', me~na'pus8 mi-kawi'2tawin ahki'hih d'nits3inihlcihs3ih. ha', md'tsum6't, sadsehkj'hsih. inuh askj'h, ta9, iniwi'n as tsj'patsih ts~c si'piah; imi's iin&'pit spd'miah, 6A, mjtsim~'hseh ini'win as ak6'tdk-! kitd'miwv iniwi'n winaht ap as &'yapit! ~y, nehsj'2, pinah na'p sawii'nimina'2! sawiinim y&'h, sawanimjyd'h, sawdnimjyii'h! na'p md'nawa'ts pi'lcituwiyah mitsimi'hseh; nipu,'awi~tami 'naw,.' ind'win kitami'WAn. h&' mis iind'pit inuh, mitii'muh, j'ta2, md'waw iniwi'n as a'2tek inih mi'sim~'hseh. d'ta2, kit imi'w winah wd'wahte2 ind'piwin. kawin p6'ts utsW'napumii'nan me?napu,'sun. ta2, kis-nehkj'kik s kU8-tahkd'skAkbut me~napu,'sun; kjs-kAtd'-ne~nik; nehkc8'siu'in winah ap kita'miw. kawi'n umind'nan. hd'ta2. t&'2 teh aw-isW'tAt me~na'pus? kAn kd'k~h utd'ninapelh PA8 kawiihd'tsin ani'nuh -skd&'khun. hMAta2 'ini'win keh s taniwdm&'tsin me'2napw3., nit~tam~wii't-sin s a-mj'nikut. kawiv'n ukjs-m~,'nik'unan. ini'9 ma'wvaw. me '2napus &yd 'nin kUs-usth'ta~w s aw-dyii'nit pdm& 'tcsit ayatsAhkeJ'-tAkilc. MAMd'tsi~taw paimii'tesit s a-pimfi'tesit s aw-d'timit s aw-iiyi'nit teh. kAn uwa 'ninewisi'nan m e~na'pwu.. 85. ME'NAPUS AND THE TREE-CAT. (Jerome Lawe) nahd'w, nik~td's kiih me~na'pus as mii'k-papim6'hnet, kAni'winniw nipZ'h-seh Ma'tapl'Ahnet. imi's iini'pit, AMa'5kU58 siwas pipi'mtasj'2tawin. dA h, ini'win kiil as si2satan&'tsin s ta'-mu,'atsin. ta'2 us8d'matin iis-und'kit. nahd&'w, iniwi'n kdh sa~yd.'h as wiip-nahdmd'tsin: W'i, nehs3j'2, pyA'nun pi'nah; kit&'wats-indi'2nin!' 'si'h, kami'nah wi'nah me~na'pus,! kd.'kh nit8-kAt&'w-ihpd/nAnikeh! si'h, nimd'2, pi'nah kami'nah ki'nah me~na'pus!' 'iP, pi'nah pyA'nun, nehsW', kitsi'wats-inii'2nin!' misi'k j~wd'hin me?na'pu~s. ta'?, iniwi'n-pih kith sa~yeh payi'At AMd'skuws% me~napu-'s tdh as tsiw-ind'2natsin. ta'2, d'2tin AMa'skus iniwi'n niw as ne'piit. nahJ'w, kayjs-sfI'hkihkcUAMit, iniwi'n,-pih sa2 yeh me~na'pus, sinaw&'? niw nditune'halh utii'kas. iniwin kiih as pipi'm-yiihpitahdi'tsin Ami'skusun. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih md'wa niw payo-nd'tsin, kd'2ts-tsipii'hkit. ta'2, usi'matin min ni'w pimj'h. iniwvi'n kith as tsiw-mami'hah ini'h 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 245 for big was his belly from all the water he had swallowed. Poor Me'napus, he went and lay down on the ground, on his back. Big was his belly as he lay extended. Now, that big white-pine stood there by the river's edge; when he looked up, why, there hung the meat! And there sat Porcupine, too! "Oh, Little Brother, do please take pity on me! Take pity on us, take pity on us! Throw us just a wee bit of meat; we are starving!" he said to Porcupine. When the woman turned her eyes that way, why, there lay all that meat! But Porcupine sat there, unheeding. He did not even glance at Me'napus. For, of course, Me'napus had offended him when he kicked him; he had tried to kill him; of course Porcupine was angry. He did not give him anything. Well, what was Me'napus to do? He had no ax with which to fell the pine-tree. So there Me'napus besieged him with talk, begging him to give him something. But the other did not give him any. That is all. Me'napus did laughable things that people might laugh as long as the earth endures, that mortal man might live and tell stories and laugh. Me'napus was not really foolish. 85. ME'NAPUS AND THE TREE-CAT.1 (Jerome Lawe) Once upon a time, when Me'napus was tramping about as usual, he came down to the edge of a lake. When he looked over yonder, there was an elk grazing about, Oh, but his mouth watered2 to eat it. For it was exceedingly fat. So accordingly he began to coax it: "Oh, Little Brother, do come here; I'll just pick lice from your head."3 "Pshaw, there he goes again, that Me'napus! I suppose he is wanting to play me some trick or other. Pshaw, that's just like you, Me'napus!" "Oh, do come here, Little Brother; I'll just pick lice from your head!" said Me'napus again. So then at last the elk came and Me'napus loused it. Sure enough, very soon did the elk fall asleep. When it was sound asleep, Me'napus quietly felt for his club. And then he finished the elk with a blow. Then he put all of it in the kettle, to cook a big meal. Then, too, there was an enormous amount of fat. So then he skimmed off that 1 Also called "sliver-cat": two trees or branches that are jammed and scrape in the wind. 2 Literally: "he felt a pinching in his stomach for him". 3 Conventional euphemism; literally: "I shall place you thus". 246 Publications9, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pimejh as pa'katse'hnitulcMiSA's niw andmd'htik, wvjhpehna'kcatuh as pilpi'm-ii'ya~tuk ini'h pim#j'h. nah&'w, Icay&s-aku'ahisi'ahkic, iniwinpih s~h ni pdi'ts sa~yeh kdta-di'0ts3-mi'tsihsit.,sa~ydi'h wd'napit as kAti'wV-Mitsihsit, kAniwi'n kah Wi'yAk is~k1iw paya'lcWAts kes~peh a wiwin. iniwi'n niw as-nalka'2tAt as kAtd'w-mak-rni'tsihsit. s3a~yeh Misi'k kd'taw-wdpahtsi'ldit, sa? yeh misi'k, ''2'iniw-' win inuh kis~peh. Ini'ma'?2 wdhtsi'taw nikd'2ts-wAnd'htsinawdi'mik wi'nah ap ayu,'m!' nahud'w, iniwi'n, ihpih dihku'ahtawvet, ani'nuh me~ti'kwAn as k-Ataw-awjh-icitaslka'hku~na'tsin imi's isp&'miah, ini'win a's tasjhsinii'hkikneh un4'h; iniu'i'n niw, as yi'hpits-a'nawi'hisit. as mdk-niwinis-i't spd'miah kAniwin niw mahwd'wAie payita'wAneti'tua2. 's3i', nehsj'meh8Ak, p~n umA's pidi'1kn!' 'na'h!' ijwi'kin mahwa'WAki, Cme~na~pu'8 diw aydi'wit! kitd'sia2! k.d'k~h misi tsiw-a'2taw!' iniuwin-pih isi'Atua? aki'kuh mahwa'WAk. ldi'?tin u~d'matin AMa'sk~us-mitsime'hsek dsi'nah as min6't6dk. nahd'w, pdi'hpisiw winua2 mahwd'wAk siw md'waw kaydi'8kahtsik4'wvAkin. '&i, nimii'? aku,'m nehs~'mehs~k! p6'n t~h uwi'nah imi's isi'Alkun 'na'h!' jwJ-'kin mahwd'wAk; ini'? misik kii'k~h as tsi'w-a~tik!' ta'?, misik iM'wAlkin. wa'h! pimj'h usd'matin. iniwi'n ma' misik inih as mi'tsikua?. '&',' ~wd,'hin misik, Inim&'2 ~'h-akum nehs~'mehsAk! nahdi'w, pfii'n tdkh wvi'nah misi'k ~'h-ini8 is31'AJkun, i'h-inuh me~ti'k!' 'nah'f2'w, misik ini's kitdi'sia?!' jw&'kin mahwdi'wA. kd'2tin -ini'win misi'k as a'2tik pimj'h. minwin ldih mii-'wawv 1&'k~h as kiti'hkua2, ahp/in d'win maydtsyA'tua?. dhwtd'h, me~na'pus iniwi'n-pih kamni'ts wayi'hkihesit as ki'ts82tAt. ta'?, pis-p.inj'2tawin; iniwi'n kdh niip n~ik6'2ts uhlk&'nan as tiits8i'2 -tsiku,'ahtah. iniwi'n ini's kayj's-es-'kit me~na'pus. 86. THE ORIGIN OF THE NORTH-STA R. (nelhtsi'wiht~uk) h&'w, me'2napus keh waw~'kiwin as p&'pahpisit; w~'kih Wj'WAn urntsi'AnehSAn ta? ta'wAnin me'2napus. Md'w, nik~ta's ayd'wik, ini'win as mehkdwd'tsmin md'ts-anud'sku,sun ts8i-kj',s-nipak. kAni'win niw s6'1& nd'pik inuh md'ts-amd'skus. wd'htsita'w md"ts-aydipd'w a wiwin ndwd'tsin as sehkj'hsinenik as nifpd'nik me~na' pus. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 247 fat and set it to cool, under shelter; he went about placing that fat here and there and everywhere into hollow logs. Then, when he had taken his cooking from the kettle, he was going to have a big dinner in all due form. He had just sat down to eat, when suddenly some creature called out: "Squeak!" In reality it was a sliver-cat. At once he ceased from the meal which he was in the act of beginning.. He was about to commence eating again, when again, "Squeak!" sounded that tree-cat. "Dear me, this fellow is really disturbing me very much!" And then, when he climbed up to slip that tree from its hold up there, then his hand got jammed between the trees; he was entirely helpless. While he was up there, suddenly some wolves came filing that way. "Oh dear, Little Brothers, don't come here!" "Oh look!" said the wolves, "It is none other than Me'napus! Let us go there! He must have something there!" Thereupon those wolves went there. And really, enormous was the amount of elk-meat, nicely cooked! Then, of course, the wolves scraped up every last bit of it. "Oh dear, confound these little brothers of mine! At any rate, don't go over there to that tree!" "Look, look!" said the wolves; "There too something must be." Of course, they went there. Why, there was a great deal of fat! Then they ate all of that too. "Oh dear!" he said again; "Confound these little brothers of mine! Well, at least do not go over there to that tree!" "Oohoo, let's go over there too!" Sure enough, there too was some fat. At last, when they had devoured everything, off and away they went. Poor Me'napus, then, when it was too late, he succeeded in pulling himself free. So he came down; and then at least kept gnawing at the bones. That was the way Me'napus fared on that occasion. 86. THE ORIGIN OF THE NORTH-STAR. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Now, Me'napus dwelt somewhere and always went hunting; in his house Me'napus had a wife and children. Once upon a time he found a large dead elk. That big elk had just died. It was a very big elk Me'napus had come upon where it lay dead. ~248 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'nim&'2, wd'htsita kd'2tin mi'2" as indni'hisi yen as a-di'2ts3 -mdmi'tsihsi yen, ninitsyA'nelhSAl nimei'tem6'hsem as aw-mdmi'tsihsitua2,' ijwd'hin me'?napus. hA'W, umd'2 tikWAn pimi'm-a~ne'win; utd'2sikan pimi'm-ki'2tinammn, as we nanih&'tsin AMd'skusun. kay~s-wi'nanih~tsin, nimdA2, usamit'nAtin ta? wjnin5'hseh. ukd'hlkamawan ini'win mdi'nawats s patskisu'atsin me'?napus ukd'hlkamaWAn as mu'atsin: ta'2, pu'awi2 -taw me '2napus. hd'w,, kay&s-mi 'tsihsit, w~nin6'hsAn md'nawats misi 'k m#itsim~'hseh patsci ',samin as aw&'t~k wj' k~wa2?. w,'wvn a~sawii'tu~watsin unitsyA'nehSAn. 'nahd'w, kejs-mi'tsihsitua? nini'tsyAnehsj'h8Ak, nina-pits-ndit~m6'naw j'h-ayum amdi'skcus as aw-awd'nalkih nj'kinan5? as a-mdimi'tsihsi'yah,' iwd'hin me'?napus. &'ta?, kayjs-pit&'kuha'tsin utdmd'skusumAn, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsiAt as Ikj'wOdt. hd'w, payi'Atdtu'wj'k~zwa?, ha'ta2, pi'ta?8iwin Am&'skusun; pit~md' win md' nawats nik6'tunuh aw-i8-mi'tsihsitua?. 'hj,'w, WjyAWikd'h. tsipd'hkinun,; wdi'htsitaw k-di'?tin Md'ts-Amd'skus nikjs-ne'?naw. kis-mi'tsihsi'ydk. kinaw-awj'h-nt~m5'naw,' nd 'win we W~n me'?napus. h&Ata2, mitd'muh wd'htsita ldi'?tin dyd'ninih &'wi win s tsipd'hkit. me~napus6'hsAk winu~'a? ap wd'htsitaw und'nikusiwA'lkin, Amad's/cusun as kAtdw-nay~md'tua2. ta'2, ini'win keh ay6' winah utsi'k s mdk-pdipim6'hnet, /kAni'win niw pd'mikund'hah me'2napus. /6'n si/ca's niw tahsj'win as /c~nj'wi/c. ta'2, ini'win tdh as nahn&'tsin utsi'k s pimj'kunehame'nik me~napu'sun. h&'w, wdhtsita'w pmi 'm-meh&k6'wilkund'hamin me'2napus: mehki'h ta? ini'h s /c8~-a'ydtuseh/ki'Atah mitsi' niw meh/k6'wiwAnin umd'hkesi 'nan. CsjAh, kd'k~h ts8i-/c's-ne~ta'w me'?napus; in&'p mnis /kd'k~h Ucspak-j'tah, ni'nah ap pas nimi'tsihsim,'.~wd'hin utsi'/k. wi'nah ap mim-md/c-pahpj'siwin, nap ka'k64 kuta'?nas as awnmis kAtdw-Mi'tsihsit. ini'win keh wd'h-asi'htahd'hnat'sin me~napu 'sun. sikas ni'w ih&pih payi'Atdt, k-d'?tin na'mwAhin /di'/ch s pitd'kwahi/kd'tdk. 'hd'w, wd/kit6'wAk y6'm!' ind'nihtAmin utsi'/k. pmiM-mi'Akunamin ani'nuh wahk/~'s d'2tilkin. hd'w, mjtsimj'hseh! nand'h-pA/di't8 isis-minu'Apumina'IkwAtin m~tsimj'hseIh. 'hd'w, icAts ni/kd'miitimd'w!' ind'nihtAmin utsi'lk. hd'ta2, lcd'k/ch niw inih isjh-mami'ahtahk/iwiwin; ayd's3ipd'hkcihiciwin; d'sipd'hkcih/ciw d'wiwin. hd'w, ini'win hd'siAtUk utsi'k; a-sipd'hkcuh and'miah ini'win as awMh-d'ya~tuk inih mitsim.i'/seh. md'waw /cayj,3-awd't6/c, iniwi'n-pihkld pd'h/cu/ahimis /cayjs-y~h-pi'htikand'tsin ani'nuh, - AMd'skcus-mjtsimj'hseh. hd'w, kawin p6'ts nd'kcwAtun td'2 -kute'2nas ki-pimj'pahtawin as /ci'Atahd'hsit utsi'k; ne~swAnii'tsik~nd'/hamin; misi'k /cute'2nas, misi'c /cute'2nasmisi'/c kute'?nas ki-pimj' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 249 "Oh, truly I am doing great things, and shall have much to eat, and my wife and children will have plenty to eat," said Me'napus. He laid down his bow; he drew out his knife, and skinned and cut up the elk. When he had prepared it, oh, there was an enormous deal of fat meat! Then Me'napus cut off a small piece of the tenderloin and ate it; for Me'napus was hungry. When he had eaten, he cut off a bit of fat and a little meat and took it home to his wife and children. "Now then, when my children have eaten, we shall come and get this elk and take it home and have plenty of food for a while," said Me'napus. Then, after covering up his elk, he started for home. When he reached their house, he came with a load of elk's meat; for he carried home a little on his back, enough for one meal. "Well, wife, cook a meal; in all truth, I have slain a great elk. When you have eaten, we shall go fetch it on our backs," Me'napus told his wife. Truly, the woman was all a-smile as she prepared the meal. The little Me'napuses, too, were very merry, because they were going to carry that elk's meat on their backs. Now, at that time, as this Fisher was tramping about, suddenly Me'napus' tracks led past; there was a certain amount of snow on the ground. So then Fisher trailed Me'napus where the latter's tracks went by. For, indeed, Me'napus had left blood on his trail as he went along; for his moccasins had still been bloody from when he had repeatedly stepped into the blood. "Whew, Me'napus must have killed something; if by any chance he has cast aside anything, I too can have something to eat," said Fisher. He too was going about hunting, for the chance that he might come upon something and have a meal. So from that place he followed back Me'napus' tracks. When he had come a ways, he did really see something that lay covered up. "Ho, I wonder what this is!" thought Fisher. He went to work and removed those things that lay on top. Why, meat! In a splendid way was that meat attractive to behold. "Well, suppose I steal it from him!" thought Fisher. Now, it was a kind of rough ground; here and there on the land were big rocks; there was a rocky place. To that place Fisher took it; under the rock he placed that meat, one load after another. When he had carried off all of it, he covered up the place through which he had brought in that elk's meat. The place through which he had brought it in did not show at all. Then he went away from there. Oh, here and there and everywhere did Fisher run about, to conceal his trail; he mixed up his tracks; now here, now there, 250 250 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kune'hamin. h&'w, iniwi'n teh ti pd'h as ts' patsih m4'ts-me~ti'Ik; min'win as ahku'ahtawet spd'miah, aw~h-d'yapit as kiAs~hii'tsin me~napu'sun. hei'w, nik~fti's kAni'win lkeh niw kdt'2tin payi'tdwane'titua2 me'9 -napus We'WAn unitsyA'nehSAn, ma waw as pi'AtuaP. pi8-piAta'tua? ini's inih uti'2napa'hkWAn, wd'kipa2 Wi'win! wi'yAkc tsi-kUs-awd't~k! nimd'2, misi'k kute'2nas ki-pim.i'kunehamin utsi'k, kjs-ki'Atahd'hsit! lhA apd'hpeni'8iWAk! ay6'2 kah kay&s-kIim5'timit; y6'pa2 as k&s-pitii'1uh&ak! kkdd'timahiku'naw matsj'2-utsi'k,. - naMd'w, tani' - nakah kitdi'syA'M, utsi'k,. kind'2nin, kispi'n kutdi~na's mehk6'nan!' iw&'hin me'2napus. h&'w, ini'win teh sa? ye'h as mitd'hnatsin, hi', papd'mah&'hnatsi'n utsi'Icun. td'2, apd'2ts8 ihpih tdh a-pyA~td2 utsi'k s kjis-ki'Atahi&'hs3it? hAdA papei'mahd'hnats3in me'2napus, hd', nikc~t's keh ayd'wikc, ni' - win sa~ye'h as piAtd'wahM'hnatsin, ini's ani'nuh me~ti'kWAn as kesahku'ahtawet utsi'k. ini'win ntiiwi'pahtsikdit me'2napus. ih&'w, y6'? kah as i'! tani'nalkah kitd'8iAM!' na'nitawa'puma'tsin me'2napus, h&', nik~td's keh ini'win sa2 ye/h s ndwd'tsin s sd'kihsindi'nik. h'hw, ayu'm-e2, ninitsyA'nehsAk! ay6'2 ayd'wit kayjs-kim5'timit!' ha', minwin kdh wdih-pimu'lAtsin, ha'w, mnis s s'kihsind'nik. iniwi'n ni kiw-inim-ihp6'tak inih w~'p. hdi', nik5'td,3 ay&'wik, utsi'k min'win s si'kisit. 'he', p&'hpenisiwA'k!ni'pa-pana'tsihik,' in4'nihtAm in u ts i'kc. ha'w, iniwi'n niw wdi'h-ku'ahnet, misi'Ic nicu,'t me~ti'kwAn kutlipdim&'tsin. hud'ta2, iniwi'n kca/ sa~yeh me'2napus s pimj'nisihid'tsin. nilk~t&'s niw as pimi'pisinit, ini'win as nahki'nawatsin. nimdP?, wd'htsita Idi'2tin inih us65'w payfI'hkWAtenam~wd'tsin! h~hwd'h, utst'k ini'win s pan&'hlci~tAt. me"?napus pmi'-td'pipundi'win utsi'kun. 'Rme 2napu,'s, nend'?, kilcd'timahi'm! Wi yAk kayd~'nisiw tsiw4i'wiw; ni'nah winah kAn ldi'k~h nika'hkina'nan. nap ni'nah ap y6'2 niw ahpa'n niw s id'yahku'ahkcihsind'yen, nina'h ap as pimi'mnit~ndi'haman as kAtliW-Mi'tsihsi yen,' iwii'hin utsi'k. IhdiA hd' h& hd' I kine'2 niu', nehsj'2, aydi'wi yen kayjs-kim5'timi'yen. h&'nu wi'nah, nehsj'2, pas kindi'2nin, as 1kitd'mahiyen, na'p nim4'tim6'hsim ninitsyA'neh&sAk as pas kis-mi'tsihsitua2. wa'h ki'nah, ne1hs~'2, haha'w, tsiyd' lcdh "utsi'lkanah" kinaw-ki'w-ik~k nisj'hsAk dts ahkj'w a-taki'k. aw-i'nim-ukd'hkiwd'htsikAniWAk tlih kj'yAw, wcini'tipdi'hkahkin jh-y5'm 1ki'sik ume'?-nakah a-1ki'w-isis-ninud'tsi2 -tayAn,' 1kis-inei'win me'?napu~s utsi'kun; 'nah&'w, misi'k thi/ nayJ'nikutu,'hkin kina'h ap kina-lkiw-sawdi'nimaWAk nisj'hSAk nisd~'kihsAk.kAn-kawd'h nitlt'nawd'hta?8WAn. mni'2 aw-is~' ki yen dts ahkj'w a-taki'k. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 251 now jonder he left his trail. Right opposite stood a large tree; so he climbed up and sat aloft, hiding from Me'napus. Then, in time, sure enough, they came filing along, Me'napus, his wife, his children, all of them. When they came to that cache of his, everything was gone! Someone must have carried it off. And behold, everywhere Fisher's tracks, where he had hidden his trail. "It's no use! This is the fellow, all right enough, who has robbed me. Why, it was right here I covered it up! That miserable Fisher has ruined us. - Now then, go where you will, Fisher, I'll kill you if I find you anywhere!" said Me'napus. Then he tracked him. He tracked Fisher all over. Fisher had certainly covered an enormous distance when he hid his trail! But Me'napus tracked him all round, and at last he tracked him down, where Fisher had climbed that tree. Then Me'napus looked to see. "This is where he is! Just you go where you will!" Me'napus peered this way and that, and at last he saw him, where he protruded as he lay. "Now, there he is, children! That is the creature that robbed me!" From there he shot at him, where he was sticking out as he lay. That arrow always just flew by that place. At last Fisher became frightened. "Heigh, it's all up! He will be the undoing of me," thought Fisher. So then he jumped from where he was, leaping at another tree. Then Me'napus gave chase. Once, as he flew by, he hit him on the run with an arrow. Lo and behold, surely, he broke off his tail with the shot! Poor Fisher, that was when he lost his hold on the tree. Me'napus ran up and seized Fisher. "Heigh, Me'napus, Big Brother, you are destroying me! It must have been someone else; really, I don't know of anything. All I've been doing is lying here on the tree, looking out for something to eat," said Fisher. "Ho, ho, ho, it was none other than you, Little Brother, that robbed me. I might well kill you, Little Brother, for having reduced me to misery, when my poor wife and children could have had a meal. Oh, well, Little Brother, let it go at that: 'North-Star'l my uncles will always call you, as long as the earth endures. They will have your body as a guiding sign when at night you rise on yonder sky," said Me'napus to Fisher; "And now and then you will pity and bless my uncles and my aunts and my various relatives. That is the way you shall be, as long as the earth endures. 1The first two syllables of the name of the North-Star are identical with the word "fisher", but it is only by a rough "popular etymology" that the name as a whole is interpreted as "Fisher-Star". 2b52 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII naya'nilkutu'hkin na'p kina'h ap ini'2 aw-ini-y~h-d'wik ne~nimd'w as a-kiw-m~'nikeyan,' ini' win me' 2napus. kay~s-sakj'kdtdna'tsin, isp4'miah ume'win heihpakinii'tsin. h&'w, ini'2 tdh utsi'kanah teh as d~'wit jh-y6'hpih. ini'2 ma'waw. Ikjwd'win me'2napus qv~'lih as awjh-&'yit. 87. THE ORIGIN OF THE SPIRIT-ROOK. (Jerome Lawe) nilc~td's idhl as dyd'wik, sa~ydh Icay.'s-m&'tsiAt me'2napus, iniwi'npih niku,'t indi'niw lkayjs-u,8j'2tAt, as lkAta'w-is3i'At me'2napuw8un, lkiftilk'hseh-mAslki'hlciw tah as lcAta'w-awe'h-nAto'tamoWa'tsin. 1kini's lcs-tasj'kiwin as u~sj'?tAt. ne?ni' teh lkis-awdnd'win ina'niWAn. nilcu't pip6'n teh kjs-pem5'hniwAkin. sa~ydih ni'wucu~n d'na~telk as lCAta'wpiAta'tua2, iniwi'n-pih wayd'p-td'pehtawa-'tua2 as 1ui' kahikc4'nit. nahii'w, sa~ydh w~'1kiw piAtd'wAkin. 'nahud'w,' Zwdi'hin me'2napus, 'pihtilce'kun! ta'2 tdh pis-ind'hkayelc?' 'nah&'w, ta?, me~na'pus3, MAski'hkiw nipi's-uhs8d'hlkAminaw, pd'hpisi'yahkin as a'-kiw-awdi'yah.' '57. nahM'w, lkinaw-minine 'muAW.' iniwi'n-pih sa~yeh ni'wulcun ndikami'tua2: 'wdsdwikdtdt, wdsdwikdtdt, nik&'ta-ndwdw, nahM'w, kaYj's-pdi't8-nikdimuhi'htua2 ini'h MAski'hkciw, iniwi'n-pih me~na'pusu~n 1c'tsimu'nilkutua2. 'na/ud'w,' inei'win ninuh niku,'t, 'wd'Ici2 teh mitsim lcina'h nd'taweni'htAmAn? w~'htah. mini ni'w aw-is~kih.' 45A, nahd'w, ni'sinuh keh di'hkik pimd'tesin, ini'nikuh icAt nitd'tspimfi'tesim.' 'nalui'w, mini ni'w aw-is~kih.' ta2, md'wa niw as tsiw-inim-kuts~muni'htua? wdi'ki2 tsiw-nAtawdi'nihtii'hkua2, ini'm-mena'wAkin. nilcu't tdh i'nuh as tsi-1kuts'munih wdt'ki2 ts3iw-naPtiwd'nihtah, iniwi'n di't8: 'nah&'w, icAn nik65'tuh lkeh as a-nipd'yAn, ki'lcil niw as aw-p1imd'tesiyAn, aw-i'ts-takik a'hkc~w.' 1(6A ' jw&'hin me'?napus; 'nah&'w, ni '2 aw-is~'kih.' kay&s-tdi'pina'tsin um'ft'hswAnih, imiwin naniikii'htyah di'hpAlkined'tsin; mdi't8-ts~hlkApe'wa~sen siwas apg' win. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 253 And now and then, for this reason, it will continue to happen that you too are given tobacco," Me'napus told him. Taking him by the leg, he flung him up there, aloft. And so there is the North-Star to this day. That is all. Me'napus went home and stayed in his lodge. 87. THE ORIGIN OF THE SPIRIT-ROCK.' (Jerome Lawe) Once in the course of time, after Me'napus had gone from here, a certain man made ready to go to Me'napus to ask him for magic herbs to be used in hunting deer.2 A long time he was busy at his preparations. He took three other men with him. One year they were on the way, walking. Four days before they reached their goal they began to hear him as he pounded his drum. At last they got there. "Good!" said Me'napus; "Come in! What have you come after?" "Why, Me'napus, we have come for medicine to use when we hunt." "So that is it! Very well, I shall give you some." Then for four days they sang: "Whose legs are yellow, Whose legs are yellow, I wish to see him, I wish to see him." Then, when they had been thoroughly taught the song of that medicine, Me'napus questioned them. "Now then," he asked one, "what do you desire besides? Name it. That very thing shall come to pass." "Oh! Twice as long as a mortal life, so long let me live." "Very well, that very same shall come to pass." Then all of them in turn were asked what they wanted, and given it in turn. But one of them, when he was asked what he desired, said: "Why, that I shall never die; that I shall live forever, as long as the earth shall endure." "Oho!" said Me'napus; "Very well, it shall be so!" Seizing him by his head-lock, he flung him yonder against the rear wall of the lodge; there lay a huge spirit-rock. 1 "Spirit-rocks" are certain large boulders which are venerated and given tobacco. 2 Literally "fawn-medicine." Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'ta"?, ay6"? keh ni'sik Idi'hkinawAk kAt nik6'tuh as nij/Vlc,' iwdi'hin me~na'pu~s. nahd'w, y6'hpih teh miitsi' niw mi"i? as tsiw-d'yapit inuh a'2sen. sa~y&'h teh kd'ti-pis-ya'h-nudtsi'Atua2, iniwi'n o'lcutua2 me~napu'sun: 'umi'hpih miyd'w isi'Akun, UMA's as kAtd'w-1ejWd'ydk~.' ni'wukun nisi'k kNs-pis-tan6'hneWAkin. 88. THE ORIGIN OF THE SPIRI T- ROCK. SECOND VERSION. (nehtsi'wihtuk) mama'tsi'?ta'WAk keh wj'kiwAk. nikut apdhni'hseh mi"i? as misd'hkAte'wat. nik6'tas ayii'wik sa'?yd'h waydi'skine'nit, iniwi'n-pih kay&~nat6mikut me'?najpu'sun. 'nalud'w, pyA'Inun, nisj"?! nine"? ndi't~ininan, UMA'8 ne-'kih as a-pi'yen. kina-mj'nin nina'h ap di'si8-tan&'man. s8idk'w teh kinapits-witsnva'WAk- apdhni'h8Ak payj'nisitua'?, kAn nik6'tuh Iki'sj'hsAn wayitsiwd'tua'?; mi"i? isj'kiwAk a —pi'natua'? Mh-y5 s nj'kih,' iku'ahin inuh apdhni'hseh as kj'kit~tii'kut me'?napu'sun as ni'piit. 1'WWI wayd'pah apdhni'hseh, ki'?ts-nanii'kAtawd'nihtah, 'anito'wAk teh s pas piAta' yen ayu'm me'?na'pus as nat6mit; kAn kAna'pats pas nipiAta'nan,' ind'nihtAmin apdhni'hseh. ha'ta'?, ki'seh d'hkwah w~'kwa'? s &'yit, ini'win and'nihtah. a', htawa'tsin as kj'kituta'kut apdihni'hseh me'?napu'sun. ca nisW?, kina-pi'AtiM ini's me"?napus wj'kih; nindi'? wehdi'h ndi'tuminan!' iku'ahin misik ini's as ni'pdt. hd'w, ini'win-pih misik k6skusit. IdAta'? Inina-kutsZ"?tam. mi"i? aw-isj"?ta yen. W~spin wihkiha'kua'? ap'ihni'hs3Ak-, ninaw-awandi'WA/k me "?napus w~'kih,' ina'nihtAmin apdhni'hseh s sdsehkej'h-sih. waya'pah, ini'win-pih na'tuneh&'tsin apdhni'h8An niku't. kaye-smehkdw&'tsin, we-'Itam5wa' win: s aw-isi' yah me''?napus w~'kih.' '/ui'w, kina-wi'tsyAn,' iku'ahin aninuh apahni'h8AnI. h&'w, ini'winpikl misi'k ni/Cut nd't~nehii'tsin apdhni'hs3An. hownaywd',8in Vn?, i~at, kC~n-d"? pas /Ciwitsi'winan? me"?napus w#j'kih ni/Ca'taw-i'SiAM. sa/kt'w apdhni'hsAk nikCi'taw-aweind'WAk, s aw-isi'yah me"?napus w~'/Cih.' mi"i? ni's as meh/Cawd'tsin apdhni'hs3An. hud'w, misi'/C niku,'t ini'win md'h/Cawatsin. 'nahd'w, ni'?a't, kinaw-isi 'a'? me"?napus8 wj'kih.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 255 "You see, this is the only thing I know that never dies," said Me'napus. Now, to this very day, there sits that rock. But when they were about to start back to this world, Me'napus said to them: "Go straight on in yonder direction when you return home." They had but four days' walking to get home that way. That, they say, is what happened there. 88. THE ORIGIN OF THE SPIRIT-ROCK. SECOND VERSION. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Some people lived somewhere. One lad was fasting. At one time, when he had become adolescent, he was called by Me'napus. "Now then, come to me, uncle! It is I am inviting you to come here to my house. I shall give you whatever I have to give. With you will come nine pure young men, such as have never consorted with young women; such are the ones you will bring even here to my dwelling," Me'napus told this boy, speaking to him in his dream. In the morning the lad, carefully thinking it over, "I wonder if I can possibly reach the place to which Me'napus calls me; perhaps I cannot reach it," thought the lad. All day long, staying about the house, this was his thought. When night came, in the course of his sleep, the lad again heard Me'napus addressing him. "Yes, uncle, you will reach Me'napus' abode; truly it is I am calling you!" that one told him again in his dream. Then he awoke. "Very well, I shall try. Even so shall I do. If I succeed in getting the young men, I shall take them with me to Me'napus' abode," thought the lad as he lay there. On the next day he sought out one lad. When he had found him he told him of it: "Now then, my friend, I shall go to Me'napus' dwelling. You will come with me as we go to Me'napus' abode." "Very well, I will go with you", he was told by that young man. Then he sought out another lad. When he saw him, "How is it with you, friend? Will you not come with me? To the dwelling of Me'napus I plan to go. Nine young men I shall take with me to go to Me'napus' abode." "Very well, I shall accompany you," the other answered him. So now he had found two lads. Then he came upon another. "Now then, friend, let us go to Me'napus' house!" 256 25G Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hd'wv, lcifa-wi'tS iAfl.' h&'w, misi'k nilcut ini'win 5 mehlcwd'ts3in apdhni'hs3An. 'h&t'w, me' 2napus w~'kcih nikCI'tew-i 'siAm; kina-witsi'wim.' ni'w ini'win as mehkdwCI'tsin. salka'w teh mah-ma'waw Ikjs-mehkawd'win pdhni'hsAn, wi'nah teh, ini2 &i-meta'tah as 1i'witua2. 'h&'wv, mitii'tahnuku,'nakah, ini2-pih a-mdtsi'yah,' ind'win wejmatj'hsAn. haA ta2, iniwi'n-pih way~'htam~wd'tsin 6'hnAn Uki'An: 'hV, nuhnd'2, UinA's as kjs-misCI'hkAteWd'yAn, me'2napus3 nina't~milk wj'Ikih as aw-isi'yen; apahni'h8Ak teh as aw-awa'nAlkua2 nita'lkwah. ini'2 teh s3a~ya'h as kis-1ce'si~ta yen; sakd'w apahni'hsAlc nika'tew-awana'WA1k, nina'h teh mita'tah as a'wiyah mah-ma'w,' ina'win 6'hnAn. &A"ta2, inuh ke~t-s-ind'niw kawi'n nan&'s uki'kiti'nan, lkd'2ts-m&'inahkAti'nihtah as kAti'W- isi 'Atua2 me~na~pu'sun as we~'1init. nawa'h aya'wilk, iniwi'n-pih lkayi'Ikitit ke~ts-ind'niw. 'naha'w, niki'h, aydkqIaAmesi'nun! ta'2 tsiw-is8-Iehkje'naman patsisj'2tah. ini'2 d'si-s-ayaku'amiminan,' ina'win uki'2sAn. iniwi'n-pih inuh fpdhni'hs3eh anip-5'nan wd'sihats8in, WemAtj'hs8An kayjs-ma'wats3iha'tsin. m&'wa niw kNs-wj'htam~wa'win ani'nuh ke~tsin4'niwAn, alki'lkuh pdhni'hsAk ani'nuh nlka'tskyAM5Wa'wan. kjsma'mahlkAta'nihtamu'kin ke~ts-ind'niwAk. 'ki'spin ka'2tin inih isj'1kimakcah ha'ts ayum Ikita'pehni'hsiminaw, we'skiWAt; d'niwak lka'kah a-pita'WAk,' Jwa-'kin alki'lkuh ke~ts-ina'niwAic, as ki'kitutd'titua2. ini'win a'sis-mini'nihta'hkua2; kjs-pakj'tine'wAkcin ani'nuh UkcV2 -s~wa 'wan as isi'Anit. pa'hpis ka'h mita'tahnu/lkun aya'wik, ini'winpih ka yjs-un5'nalc'hsihkua2 utanjp-6'nem~wa-w, as asu'ahahlkua2 jh-y5'm ke~tsilkam~'hseh. papimd'skatua2, nilk6'ta~s aya',wikc sa? yd'h ts3i-ya'hpits-alku'atsime't~ua2; ini'win lea ys-y~h-pim5'hnetua? saka'w tahn6'lkun kjs-pim5'hneWAkin. y6'm teh mitd'tahnu,'lun as pima's/katua2, naya'wahki'k, ini'win as kjs-na'mikua2 Ah-y5'm teh ahkej'w. s3~pj'w ini'win as pim~'hneh; kutd'2nas ina'niw as lku'ahnet ahpj'hts ihpih alkamj'wiwin. tini win as matsi'SkAk Zh-y5'm ahkj'w; nine'win a' sis-ayi'2nvwd'skc~k y~m ahkj'w. 'p~n wi'nah imi's ana'miah ana'pikun,' ina'win ani'nuh w#~matj'hsgAn inuh mya'waw; 'y6'm niw ni'nah a'si~tayan, ini'2 niw awisj'2tayek,' mad'win. 'ha'w!' jwa'1kin akiknh pahni'hSAlc. ina'niw ini'win-pih paya'sitahah; aka'miah ni'win s nj'puwit. sa~yd'h misi'le ni'lknt ini'win-pih paya'sitahah wi'nah ap. ma'wa niw ini'win d's3i~tA'tua2 alkiluh apahni'hsAk. ya'hpits uti'h innh apahni'hseh sa~yd'h ka'ta-lun'ahnet, ini'win-pih UMAx's aindmiah nipi'hih ana'pit. 'jI, apa'hpenisiwA'lk! po-n wi'nah ini's ana'pinnn!' ina'win inuh maya'wat. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 257 "Very well, I shall go with you." So now he found yet another lad. "To Me'napus' house I plan to go; you will accompany me." "Yes, I will accompany you." So now he had found four of them. And he found in all nine lads, so that, with him, they were ten in number. "Very well, in ten days we shall set out," he told his young friends. Then he told the news to his father and mother: "Father, there where I was fasting, Me'napus summoned me to go to his abode; and he told me to take along some lads. And now I have done this; nine young men I plan to take with me, so that with me we are ten in all," he told his father. Not for a time did that old man speak, greatly wondering that they were to go to the place where Me'napus dwelt. After a long while the old man spoke. "Well then, my son, be on your guard. Whatever you may have come to believe and know, carry it out with exactness. That is the admonition I give you," he told his son. Then the lad made elm-bark canoes, having assembled his young friends. Those lads had all told the old men, their fathers. The old men had wondered at the news. "If it is really the way this boy of ours says, it is well; surely they will bring something from there," said those old men as they talked together. Thus were they content with it; they had permitted their sons to go. When the tenth day had come, they embarked in their elmcanoes to cross the lesser sea. As they travelled on and on, and at last came all the way to land, then, from the time they had set out, nine was the number of days they had journeyed. On this tenth day of their voyage, at noon, was when they saw land. A river flowed at that place; its width from bank to bank was about as far as a man will leap. Then this earth moved; even thus did this earth sway from side to side. "Be sure you do not look down," said the leader to his young friends; "Exactly as I do, you will do!" he told them. "Very well!" said those lads. Then one man leapt across; on the other side he stood. Then a second one leapt across. Thus did all of the lads. The very last young man, just as he was about to leap, looked down upon the water below. "Oh, be careful! Do not look that way!" the leader told him. 17 258 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI sa~ya'h misi'k kdt'taw-ku'ahnet, ini'win-p~'h UMA's dndi'pit nipi'hih; ini'win ni'w as am-pa'pehts.ih. 'hyd', apd'hpeni',SiwAk ki'matin!' jh-y5'm ahk~w ahpi'ts niw inim-kisipite'win, y6'm as ind'hlcak, as dyi'2nuwd'skAk. hd'w, nik~td's, kayj8-pakit&'nimit apdhni'hseh, iniwi'n-pih kayu'ahnet. ini'win nd'n as pii'pehtsih; ini'2 lkeh as 1kjs-nipd'k, pZ'htihsih ini's inih ahk.j'w as aiyi'2nuwd'slkAk. 'apdhpeni'8iwAk-, kVmatin ta2 ts3i-lAtd'W-i8~cima'k-esit?' ijwd'hin inuh mdy&t'wdt. maya~tsyUA'tua2, nd'hkah, sa?yd'h salka'nah nayi'k ayum W~s62, ini'win-pih taydp&'pahtii'hkua2 w~'kiwAm. payiAta'tUa2, slcu'ahtemih ini'win s nim-nakd'2tatua2, kAni'win keh ni'w 1kayi'Ikitit Wj'yAkc ini's pi'htik. 'td'2 teh nisj'hs8Ak, kAn as pi'htike'ya~k? pi'htikelcu'n, nisj'hs8Ak!1 wdwd'nin as pi'2tawi'ydk!' ik6'kin me~napus6'hsoAn Una'hlkWAfla'hs5wa 'wan. payi'htilce'tu~a2, ind'niw siwas ape'win. ~JMA,apj'1kun, ap~'kun, ap~'1kun, nis~'hsAk!' misgd'hs3ihkua2 apdhni'hs8Ak m6'sah lkutd'2nas, MaAta2, ii'yapitua2 pahni'h8Alc, utii'hlkehki'Anih ahkdt'h akc6'tsinin. me'2na pus pmi'mpindndi'win utd'hkehkun. md'ts-me~tilk-und'lkan d'wi win ut~nii'kan me'2napus; mis3i 'i md'ts-me~tilk-d'miskWAn ii'wi win utid'miskwAn. pmi'm-u~ti'hpinA'min ut~nii'kan utd'mislcwAn. wa'pimi'nAkc sjwd'pimi'nAk yd'hpits m~slkinepi'win inuh ahkd'h; apd'hsus-m~tsimZ'hseh d'pehtaw d'wiwin, kjs-ahpa-'powit. ini'win und'lkanih as a'2tuk, as ahsii'mikutua?. ' nahd'w, nis~hSAk, mitsihsi'kun!' ik6'kin. ini'2 Iceh, pdihni'hs8Ak mi'tsihsitua2, nui'?, md'wa niw kitd'mulcin inih md'ts-und'lccan, md'maw6'hkahkua2 apdhni'"h8Ak. kayes-anihmi'tsihsit'ua2, ind'sina'mukin inih und'kan. 'nalu'w, inih und'kan!' 'nah&'w, nisj'hsAkc, wdwd'nin as pi'2tawi'ydk! nind'2 ni n&'tuminakuk, jh-y5's ni'nah as w~'kiyen as a-pi'yadk. weskiwA't tdh as pi'2tawj'ydk. kah ni'w ni'wuku'nakah kina~w-kiwd'MUAw,' ik6'kin me~napu,'su~n; 'ni'wukun y6's knaw-i 'MUAW. in?"'? s a-tdpii'nimi'yen, nisej'hAk, s aw-wejt5'hknna,'kuk. kinaw-mi'nine 'MUAw wt'ki2 a-nat6'tam6'wiyek, nis8j'hSAk,' ik6'kin a~pdhni'h8Ak- me,?napns6'hsAn und'h - kwAnd'hs85wa 'wan. nah&'w, mnini'nihtamu,'kin apdhni'hs3Ak as nii'htawatua2 me?napus65'h8An as kcdkjtkit~td'kutua2. nik6'tds niw as mdk-ii'yapitua?, kAni'win kd'h niw ahkd'h pitspi'htikd'skAt ini's me'2napu8 we-'kih. nimd'2, Mjtsim~'hseh tsi-kHsand'meh, nand'h-paldi'ts! wd'htsitaw ini'win as wj'skiwah inih m~'tsim~'hseh. ne2-nim&'w misi'k pits-pi'htildi'skawin, kikj'h. 'h&'w, nis~'hsAk, mi'tsihsiku'n ih-i'nuh ahkd'hkuh d'2tik. kitd'hsamika2 as aw-mi'tsihsi'yah; misi'k tdh s aw-uhpu'Ayah ne~ni'mdw a wiw j'h-ayum,' ik6'kin und'hkWAnd'hs~wawan me'2napu'sun. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 259 Then again, as he was about to leap, he looked upon the water; then did he almost fall. "Oh, it is an evil thing, for our friend!" Even then did this earth of ours give a quick move, settling like this, as it quivered this way and that. Then at last the lad, resolving his mind, took the leap. He fell short; and thus he died, falling into that place where the earth did sway from side to side. "Alas, what will become of our comrade?" said that one who was leading. When they went from there, by evening, when the sun had nearly set, they came within sight of a wigwam. When they reached the place, as they stopped by the door, at once someone called out from within. "Why, uncles, do you not enter? Come within, my uncles! Thank you for coming to me!" they were greeted by that dear Me'napus, their nephew. When they entered, there sat a man. "Ho, sit down, sit down, sit down, my uncles!" As the young men seated themselves on the ground here and there, and were thus seated, there over his hearth hung a kettle. Me'napus arose and took down his kettle. A great wooden bowl was the bowl of Me'napus; a great wooden spoon was his spoon. He went and took up his bowl and spoon. That kettle was entirely full of corn, sweet-corn; half of it was venison, on which he had boiled the corn. Then he placed it into the bowl and gave them to eat. "There, uncles, eat!" he told them. So then the lads ate and entirely finished the contents of that great bowl as all of them attacked it. When they had eaten, they held out the bowl. "There, the bowl!" "Very well. uncles, thanks that you have come to visit me. It was even I invited you to come to this place where I dwell. It is good that you come to visit me. Not for four days shall you go back," Me'napus told them; "Four days you are to stay here. Only then shall I be content with what I have had of my uncles' company. I shall give you whatever you ask of me, my uncles," the lads were told by that dear Me'napus, their nephew. Now glad were the young men to hear Me'napus conversing with them. Then at one time, as they stayed there, suddenly a kettle came gliding into the house, there into Me'napus' lodge. Why, it was meat that had somehow been boiled, splendid! Truly excellent was that meat. Tobacco, too, came gliding into the house, along with the rest. "There, uncles, eat what is in this kettle here. We are being given food that we may eat; and here is tobacco that we may smoke," they were told by their nephew Me'napus. 17* 260 260Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII h&'ni?, ta'?, apdhni'hSAk wdihtsi'taw ini'win s Idi~ts-mi'tsihsi'tua?, me'ts8ime'hseh as mi'tsikua?. kayjs-ani'h-mi'tsihsitua?, ini'win-pih Uth misi'k kayd~ts-uhPu'atua? pdhni'hs3Ak. ini'sa2 teh wi'nah inuh mam&'tsi~taw jh-y5's as n&'siwet, sak&'?saht-si'kdt; ini'2 teh as pi'makah me'2napus wj'kih inih unl&'8iWAn inuh rnam&'tsi~taw kikjhund'2niMAMAn. iniwi'n keh &'nahkamikisi'tua2 apdihni'h8Ak, mdmi'tsihsitua2. lkawi'n nik6'uh utsip&'hkinan inuh me'?napus; ayu'm mam&'tsi~taw as n&'siwet, ini'win ma'waw as pi'makah me'2napus w~'kih. ini'2 teh aki'kuh apdhni'h.SAk wi'nua2 maya-mi'tsikua2, ini's ay&.'tsitua2. ni' pip6'n teh ini'win as ks-i'tua2 aki'kuh apdhni'hs8Ak; wi'nah tdh wi'nah me'2napUs ni'wukun isis-W~'htam inih ni' pip~n. kdi'2tin teh niw aki'lcuh apdhni'h8Alc ni'w-inuh nisi'lc niw kjs-nipdi'WAkin inih ni' pip~n as d'wik sa~yd'h ni' pip6'n, ni'wukun ndp&'tua2, mi'p ay&'wik ini'win-pih wayj'htama'k-utua?, 'h&'w, nisW'hAk, ini'2 kdh sa~y4'h as aw-kjw6d'yak. wd'pah mi'p kinaw-matsi'AMUAW2' ik6'kin. ini'win-pih 1c'tiMunikut inu'h teh apdihni'hseh kayj8-awCInCI'tsin ani'nuh w~matij'hAn: 'nahcd'w, wd'ki2 tak, nisj'?, nd'tawenihtA'mAn as aw-mi'ninan?' h&Ata2, inuh apdhni'hseh, ndnii'katawd'nihtah, 'nakd'w, nisj' 21, usii'm apits ahpa'n niw niki-pu'awi~tam wdh-pi'yen. as aw-nehej'hne~takdi'yen apd'hsus mnAnt6wWAk, ini'? keh nd'tutam6'nan as awvmj'8i yen,' ind'win unii'hkWAnd'h8An me~napu'sun. 'nah& 'w, nis'2, kinaw-m~'nin. mi'? aw-isj'kimakesi 'yen; kinawrnyen6'wihaw ~' h-a yum mand't~w, pJ~ta'yen wah-pi'yen kimd'nikan~wa2,' ini'win Us8j'h8An me '?napus. 'nah&'w, kina'h teh, nisji'?. wd'ki2 teh kinah ndi'tawenihtA'MAn?' ind'win me'2napus8 us~h~n. &A"ta2, apdhni'hseh wina'h ap ini'win ndnd'katawd'nihtah,. nilc8'tds ini'win-pih wi'nah ap kay~'kit~tawa'tsin. 'naha'w, nnah a'p lcdh ndi'tawdnihtA'man as aw-nehe' h-mi ki'hkiyen, as aw-mi'hke yen; ini'2 kdh nna'h ap nd'tutam6'nan, nindi'h, indt'win apdihni'hseh und'hkWAnd'hs~n me?napu 'sun. 'nahd'w, nis~'2, ini'? niw aw-is~ki yen, inih dis-ntawd'nihtA'MAn. kina~w-neh~h-mikd'hkim; kinaw-mdimi'hkem, as aw-kiwv-nit~nii'hat kRt-pimd'tesiw, wdh-pi'yen kimd'nikan~wa9,' ind'win me'2napus8 u~s~'hsn. ta?, ini'? keh ni's sa~ydi'h h kNs-kjsi~ta'hnatsin us,8hsMn. hti'w, 'ha'w, wdi'ki? teh ki'nah, nisj'?, nad'tawenihtaman?' 'nalhi'w, mAski'hkiwAn kdih, nisj'?, way~'sk-iwj'hkin pas kk.d'hkin~ham6'wim.' I1 Error for nina'h; Me'napus is our nephew, but, as the usual situation is f or the older man to be the uncle, the narrator here and once or twice below, makes this slip. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 261 Of course then truly with zest those lads made a meal, eating the meat. When they had eaten, then the lads had a good smoke. And this, you must know, was the feast-offering and the offering of tobacco of some man here on earth; now it was that this feastoffering of that man came into Me'napus' lodge, together with his tobacco. Thus, then, those lads fared, and had good eating. Never does Me'napus cook; when mortal men make a feast-offering, then all of it goes to Me'napus' lodge. And this it was that the lads ate, all the time they were there. Four years did those lads stay there; but Me'napus calls four years four days. And in truth only four times did those lads sleep in that space of four years. At the end of the four winters, when they had slept four times, in the morning, he said to them, "Now then, my uncles, it is time for you to return. Tomorrow morning you shall set out," he told them. Then he asked that lad who had taken along his young friends: "Now, uncle, what do you desire that I give you?" The lad, thinking it over, "Oh, nephew, too much do I always go in want of food there whence I came. That I may be a great slayer of deer and game, that is what I ask you to give me," he said to his nephew Me'napus. "Very well, uncle, I shall give it to you. That is the way you shall fare; you shall have easy play with food-animals when you go back to your town whence you came," said Me'napus to his uncle. Then he asked another: "Now then, you, my uncle, what is it you desire?" Me'napus asked his uncle. Then this lad too thought it over. At last he addressed him. "Now, I for my part, what I desire is that I may be good at fighting, that I may be a war-leader; that is what I ask of you, my nephew," said the lad to his nephew Me'napus. "Very well, my uncle, thus shall you fare, as you desire. You shall be good at fighting; you shall continue to be a leader in war, whenever you seek out your fellow-mortals, there in your town whence you have come," Me'napus told his uncle. So now he had endowed two of his uncles. Then, "And now, what is it you, my uncle, desire?" "Oh, please teach me, nephew, the herbs and medicines that are of good effect." 262 262Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI ~&!hd'w, nisj'2, kinaw-w~'htamun.' MAslct'hkiWAn ini'? 5 kjs-wj'htama'1kut. 'hd'w, y6'? lcdh, nisj'2, kinaw-nehi,'h-nand'tawj'htsikem,' in4'win us~hSAn. hdj"ta?, mni'? keh wi'nah ap i'nuh tsi-lkjs-kj'8i~tdi'hnikut. 'ha'w, kina'h tdh, nisW'?' 'h',as aw-ki'hki?ta' yen. Us~i'm api'ts nikiw-paya'nikuk nj'tsapdhni'h8Ak; ini'? keh nina'h ap dsis-nAtaWd'nihtam6'nan.' 'ho'w, aw-isj'1kimakcat; y6'M a sis-nto-tam5'wi yen kina-mj'nin.' haAta, iniwi'n keh, hd'w, wina'h ap inuh ni'kut as aw-nehj'hpa hpj'sit nt~tam~wdi'win; misi'k inuh nikut s aw-neheA'-pahpi'sit wi' nah ap niw ini'win di'si8-nt5'tah. hM'w, misi'k inuh ni'kut wi'nah ap as neh~h-mikd'hkcit ini'win kayj8-nt5'tam~wa-'tsin. hd'w, inu'h teh ni'kut misi'k: 'hM'w, wad'Ii2 teh kinah, nisj'2, nd'tawe'nihtaman?' Cnahd'w, nisW', ma'wa niw usa'm api'ts nis3j'hkcanikuk ~'h-akum ki?8j'h8Ak.-. as aw-mini'nimitua2 Icdh, mni'? nd'tutam65'nan,' indi'win und'hkwAna'hsAn. 'hd'w, nine'h,1 kina-m~'nin; as aw-mini'nimdi'hkua2 kis8'hsAc h&A ta2, ini'? keh. h&'w, ay6' teh ni'kut ay5' teh ay~t'tskwAt: 'hd'w, nisj'?, wd'ki? teh ki'nah?' 'nahu'w, nne'h, nina'h ap kdih d'sis-ntawd'nihta'man as aw-kdi'kikpiMa'tesi yen, dts ahkjw a-ta'lkil s a-pemdi'tesi yen. ini'? lkeh ni'nah ap asis3-ntdwd'nihtaman.' )6, Iui'w, kina-m~'nin. ii'ts ahk~w a-taki'k kina-pimd'tesim,' ind'win us~'hsn me'2napus8. ni'pi'?ta'win; kay~s-tdpina'tsin utd'nim&'hkanih ayj'tuh, ini'winpih dspina'tsin; utdslu'ahtemih tdh ini'win as paki'tina'tsin. pd'lciten&'tsin, ts'hlkapd'wa?8en apj' win. 'hd'w, y6'? keh, nis~'?, as aw-d' yapi' yen; dts ahk.j'w a-taki'k lkina-pemd'tesim.' ini'win teh - tsj'hkapd'wa?sen apj'win sku'ahtemih. mitsi' niw teh ni'w -ini'win s d'yapit pdhni'hseh. ta'?, nt6'tsikew eits ahke'w a-talci'k as aw-pemd'tesit. ini'? keh md'waw as lc'si~td'hnatsin us~'hAn me'?napus8. iniwi'n-pih teh ndpd'tua?. k6'8kusi'tua? mi'p, kaye-8-mi'tsihsitua?, ini'win-pih watuI'hsiWAn ini' win as aku'.aIhah; y6'win teh d'sihniltdl wAtut'hsiwAn; si's3kaha'min watfI'hsiWAn utsi 'kapd'htemih. min'win wd'htinA'tsin apdhsusu'kUMAn. kayis-8iski'kinatsin. mi' win watUt'hsiah wahkci't as a?na'tsin. hd ta2, as wi'nusit inuh apd'hs3usu'ku~m, ume'win d'nilkenit, as ma,'wat6-'hna?s3it. ini'win ku~td'?nas as a?na't~sin. 1 Error for niqj'?; cf. preceding footnote. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 263 "So that is it! Very well, my uncle, I shall tell you of them." Then he told him of herbs. "There, now indeed, my uncle, you will be wise in doctoring," he told his uncle. So now he had endowed this one as well. "And now you, my uncle?" "That I may be a quick runner. Too greatly do my fellows leave me behind in the race; this then is what I ask of you." "Very well, so shall it be; this thing which you ask of me, I shall give you." And then another asked that he should be a good hunter; that was what he asked for. And another, that he should fight well was what he asked of him. And then the next one: "And now, whar do you, my uncle, desire?" "My nephew, too much do these young women dislike me. That they may fancy me, that is what I ask of you," he told his nephew. "Very well, uncle, I shall give it to you, that young women shall fancy you, this shall be." "It is well!" Thus it was. But one, the very last: "Now then, uncle, what for you?" "Oh, my nephew, what I desire is that I may live forever, that I may live as long as there is an earth. That is what I desire." "Oh, very well, I shall give you this. As long as the earth endures shall you live," said Me'napus to his uncle. He arose; seizing him by both shoulders, he raised him aloft; by his door he set him down. When he set him down, there lay a Spirit-Rock. "Now, my uncle, in this very place shall you continue to sit; as long as the earth endures shall you live." And so - as a Spirit-Rock he sat by the door. There does that lad still continue to sit. For he made the demand that he should live as long as the earth is to endure. So now Me'napus had endowed all his uncles. Then they slept. When they awoke in the morning, after they had eaten, he lifted hot embers from the fire; and like this he laid the embers; he spread out the embers by the wall of his lodge. Then he took a deerskin. When he had spread it out, he placed it over the embers. Then, as that deerskin scorched, it shrivelled in the heat until it was as big as this. Then he placed it somewhere. 264 264 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'h&'w, nisW', UMA'1s s aw-ini-nip.d'ydk, w&'pah nehk&'h kinapyAta'MtfAW,' ik6 'kin undi'hkWAn4'hs.5wa'wan. ini'win.tdh 8 k&s-uts'?sah Y6'mi ahkV'w, anuk apd'hsusu'kuman as kUs-wi'nusu'atsin. wAya'pah nd'hkah pi"WAkin aki'kuh pdihni'hs3Ak um'i'nika'n~wa2 kayj~s-y5'h-mdt~syA't~ua2. aki'kuh ke~ts3-indi'niWAk y&'hpits kj8-pAndt'nimowAkin units yA'nehowa' wan. 'ni-pip8'nakah kAn as pi'Atua2,. ts3i-k-s-kdi'k~h-is~kiWAk kut.'i'nas,' ind'nihtamu'kin akikuh kitski'wAk. nim&'2, payi'Anit uki'2s5wawan, wdt'htsitaw ini'win as mini'nihta'hkua2 kitski'WAk. mamii'h-indi'niWAk a'WiWA'kin. ntawj'?t-,.t inuh kay&s-nt6tsiket mnAntowWAn, ke~tsi'h niw ini'win s awMhtahpd'nanatsgin awti'hsAn. wd'htsita'w min'win may&'hnu-maini'tsihsitua2. h&'w, misik inuh MAski'hkiwAn kay&s-nto'tsiket, wj'?2sake'siwAn as nan&d'tawih&'tsin, ma wa niw WV'yAn kiw-indnihd'win. Ihd'w, mi~sik inuh kayjs-nt5'tsiket a-s aw-nehU'h-mikca'hkit, kutd'2nas as8 kiw-mikdi'tih, w6Yhtsitaw ahpd'niMUAn kUs-&'wiwin. ha'w, misi'k inuh wina'h ap as aw-ki'hki~tAt, kawi'n nik6'tuh wiyAn uk~s-paya'niku,'nan. kj8-tdh-mi 'n-niw-neh~'h-ne~tAkitwin MAnato'wAn, m'is 8 kj8-ki'hki~tAt. ha'w, mis3i'k inuh tsi-kejs-nat5'tsiket wina'h ap as awmini'nimikut ki?,s~'hAn, nim&'2, payi'Atua2 ini's umdi'nikam~wa?, kutd'2nas a-s kiw-is-sa'kit6'hnet, pii'pik ki~sj'hsAn ki-pits3-nii'tinetu'anikin, keike'kitutawa'ts3in. ini'win kah wina'h ap inuh dnan6'hkasit, kis,'hAn kiikj'kitutawa'tsin; k6'2s3ik wai'hts3itaw siw kiiku'ahnew i'sikatd'win, y&'hpits sa~yi'h kft'hpatsihisit as isi'ahkawatsin kPsj'hs8An. ini'? keh m&'waw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 265 "There now, my uncle, camping once on the way, tomorrow at eve you shall arrive," they were told by their nephew. For even then did the earth shrink as if with heat, when he seared that deerskin. On the next day at nightfall the lads came to their town whence they had set out. The old men had given up all hope concerning their children. "Since they have not come in the course of four years, something must have happened to them somewhere," thought the old people. Oh, when their sons came, then truly glad were the old people. They were big men. When he who had asked for food-animals went in search of game, then right close by he slew a bear. Truly then they had a plenty of food. And he who had asked for herbs, when he doctored sick people, everyone would he cure. And he who had asked to be a great fighter, whenever there was fighting at any place, truly he was a mainstay to his people. And he who was to be a swift runner, never by anyone was he left behind in the race. And at the same time he was a great slayer of game, on account of his fast running. And he who had asked, for his part, that the young women should fancy him, goodness, when they came to their town there, whenever he went out of the house to go anywhere, at once did some young girl drag him off to hold converse with him. That was the way he occupied himself, talking to young women; at last, truly, he had legs like a grasshopper's, having entirely done himself to ruin with frequenting young women. That is all. Vi. SACRED STORIES. 89. HOW TURTLE GOT DRUNK. (nehts3i'wihtu~k) mihk4'ndh ninaw-Ct'tsimaw Ika ys-is~' kit ahka'nuh s k&3-pimd'tesit. iniwi'n s wdw~'kit; &'^, MArna'tSi~tAWAk mana'WAkin as wi'kitua2 umanikA'nitu~a2; mdi't-s-mini '1dn &'wiwin UMa~nilcA'nuwaw mamd'tsi~tawAlk. minwi'n wina'h ap mihkdi'ndh as wj'kit. MdAtSsjsp~1W iniwi'n as pim~'hneh. iniwi'n tdh as w~'kit wi'nah ap mihlkd'niih. hd'w, i'nuh MAMd'tsi~taw uki'meiw tsiw-d'wit mi'p iniwin di'ts: 'h5AW, pehni'h8Ak, pehni'hsAlk, md'wa niw kinaw-awih-paIhp~'si2! kina-1k~sj'2. nawd'ts tdh kinaw-isi'A2 tawa"'wilkAmi'kuh as aw-awj'hmas~'nah1di'yah tdwd'wikAMt'kuh,' jwd'hin ukei'mdiw. ma"ts-mini'kdn ini'win as a'2tek ld~t~ti'h, 1kitsi-m6'hku~md'nmini'kdn. iniwi'n tdh asi'Atua2 as awj'h-masinahjkdi'tua? AtaWa'WilkAMi'ku~h. hd'w, payiAta'tua2 lkitsi-m6'hlkunmn umdt'nikA-'nih, mini'lkdn, tdwa'wilkAmilkun. md'ts-mi'hikan as pimi'panilc, a-ye'tuh m6'sah AtaWa'wtlkAmikcun a'wiwAnin &yi'tawV' 4kAnawv. M',iiwin as pihtilke'tua2 alki'kuh MAMd'tsi~ta'WAk. hd', t~twd'wineniw ta2 iniwin a'ts: 'h&t'w, wd' ki2 kd'taw-MAMa'yan?' jwd'hin tdwd'wineniw. 'hd'w, nikc&'taw-masj'nahikdim. kAn ka'lc~h 8ii'n yen nitei'2tunan,' jwdi'hin MAMd'tsi~taw. 'nikd'te-wMh-pahp~'sim: w&2s3i'lAn ninapit6'n. pi'yen pahpi'si yen, ini'2-pih md'waw a-mj'ninan,' ind'win mama-'tsi~taw tdwd'wineni' wAn. 'pa'hs3usu'kUMAk nina-pina'WAk, misi'k tdh nAMa'hkwAku,'MAk, misi'k tdh mikj'kntk, misi'k tih siihki'hSAlk nina-pina'WAk,' jwj,'hin inuh MAMd'tsi~taw. 'h&'w,' jwd'hin tdwd'wine'niw, ktsi-m6-'hkumdn-tdwa'wineniw, 'hd'w, wj'skiwAt, wj'skiWAt, wj'skCiWAt, wj'skiWAt, mamd'tsi~taw, pit6'h, pit6'h, pit6'h, pit6'h, kinaw-mj'nin, kinaw-mj'nin, Icinawmj'nin, kinaw-mj'nin s a-mas~' nahildi'yan,' ~wd'hin kitsi-m6,'hku~man-tdwai'wine 'niw. lui'w, MAM&'tsi~taw ta'? ut&'kum tepd'hamin, mnas3'naha'min, up~'hsehkca'kan, uti'hSAn, misi'k- tah mahk&'hsiw misi'k ktih misd'peh, pi'hkisildi'hs3An. hd'w, misi'k tdh W~'WAn utii'lum misi'k ttpe'hsehkA'kan, m&'wa niw p6'2sehkak-A'nan masej'naha'min. h&'w, misi'k ta~nunni'kanan mas~naha'min. hJt'w, mdtsi'win. mdi'wa niw alki'luh *MAMd'tsi~taWAk mas*jnahjkdi'WAkin tdwa'wikAmi'kuh. hi'w, kjTwa'WAkin. h&'w, mihldi'ndh wi'nah ap mdts3i'win s awMh-MAS~nahi'kdt. hd'w, payi'Atat tdwd'wikAMi'k~h, iniwi'n as pi'htiket. 89. HOW TURTLE GOT DRUNK. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) Of Turtle I am going to tell, how he fared once of old, when he lived in human form. There he dwelt; many were the people who dwelt there in a village; a big village it was, the village of those people. That was where Turtle also dwelt. A big river flowed past there, and by it dwelt Turtle, along with the others. So then one man, he must have been the chief, said, one morning: "Come, lads, let us all go hunting! Let us move camp. But first we shall go to the store and buy things on credit,"' said the chief. There was a big town near by, a white man's town. Thither they went to get supplies on credit from the store. When they got to the white man's town, there was the town, there were the stores; where a big road ran through, on both sides were nothing but stores, on both sides of the road. Into these went the Indians. The storekeeper asked: "Well, what do you want?" "I want to get supplies on credit. I have no money," said the Indian. "I want to go off hunting. I'll bring fur. When I come back from hunting, then I will give you all of it," said the Indian to the storekeeper. "I will bring deerskins and bearskins and beaverpelts, and otters and minks will I bring." Thus spoke the Indian. "All right," said the trader, the white American trader, "All right, Indian, all right, all right, all right! Bring it, bring it, bring it, bring it! I'll give you credit, I will, I will, I will!"2 So the Indian bought his blanket; he took it on credit; a jacket, leggings, and gunpowder and lead and gun-caps. Also a blanket for his wife and a jacket, all the garments she needed he got on credit. He also got traps. Then he departed. All those Indians bought supplies at the stores. Then they went home. Now, Turtle also went off to buy things on credit. When he reached a store, he entered. 1 The usual old-time procedure: supplies on credit and payment in furs. 2 White men are wordy. The story throughout is burlesque. 2, 7 0 270Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII /u 'w, mihk&'ndh iniwin d'ts: 'nikd'ta-masj'nahkdi'm,' ejw&'hin 'h&'w, wdt'ki2 teh di'?tawan? kikci-pahp~'simit?' iwa'hin tdwd'wine' niw. h&'ta2, mihkd'neih uhka'tan, tatdsku'ahkwAt~nin uhkdf'tan; ndskdi'n niw nehej'2tawin as pim6'hnet. ha'w, AtaWa' wini'n~iw iniwin dna'tsin: 'hd'w, mihlcen&'h, lkAn pA5 Iciwi'hlkiht65'nan as a-pahpi~'si yen. icAn kdi'k6Ih PAs kin4'2t~nan. kAn kikd'taw-m~'nine'nan; kAn pAs kimj' nine' nan s a-mas~'nahikii'ya'n,' ~wa'hin AtaWa'wine'niw. 'mdtsi'ah!' ~wa'hin AtdWdi'wine'niw. h~hw&', mihldi'neih iniwi'n kdh s sdIkit5'hnet! h&'w, misi'lc niku't 'h&'w, wd'Iki2, mihkened'h?' jwa'hin tdwd'wine 'ntw. 'khd'w, nik&'taw-masj'nahjkdi'm!' 'hM'w, mdtsi'ah! kAn pAs lkim~'nine'nan,' jwd'hin AtaWa'wine 'niw. h~hw&', mihkdt'ndih iniwi'n keh misi'k as Mri'tsiAt! 1hd'w, misi'k niku't ini'win as pi'htiket. 'hd'w, wd'ki2, mihke'niih?' 'hd'w, nik&'taw-mas~'nahikdfm!' CMh," mdtsi'ah! kAn pas Jkimj'nine'nan,' e-wa-'hin AtaWa'wine 'niw. 6hw&'h, mihkd'nah mdts8i'win misik! ha'w, imi's yii'hpit8 isuk'AWtS nikut tawa'wikAMilc iniwi'n as a'2tik. ha'w, ini'2 teh ayei'tkkUAt 8 pi'htiket; ni2 md'waw AtctWa'wikAMi'kun s kis-pi'htiket; kAn me~ni'nan s a-masj'nahjkdit. 'k&'w, wd'ki2, mihke'ndh?' 'ha'w, nikdi'taw-masj'nah#k1d'm,' ~wei'hin. 'ha'w, kinaw-mj'nin, mihke'ndh. wa'ki2 tdh Ika'taw-MAMa'yAnl?' ~wti'hin AtaWa' wine 'niw. 'h&'w, pi'yen kUs-pahp~'8i yen, Ud'a'silkAn kinaw-m~'nin,' indi'win tdwdi'wine 'niwAn mihk&'niih. 'ha'w, mihke'ndh, wC'skiwAt, we'skiwAt, we'skiwAt, wC'skiwAt, w~'skiwAt, mihke'niih, w~'skiWAt, mihke'nah; pit6h, pit6h, pit6'h Wdi' 2SikAn! kinaw-m~'ni 'n s a-ma8~'nah~kd' yan.' 'h&'w, ka'hkap nika'taW-MAMa'n.' 'ha2-ni'k~h?' 'ha'w, kit'nUApi'kah. inj'? teh y6'h-pih dhkuApi'kah ~'h-inih wj'ki-,wArn dhku~xpi'kah, inih s aw-ahkUApi'kah nikd-taw-6'n, kAta'w-pahpe'siyAn,' ~wd'hin. 'ha'w, misi'k ftih?' 'hJ'w,ini'2, ini'2-nikuh,' jwa'hin mihkd'niih. h&"?, k~wdi'win; ukef'hkapim nay6'htAmin. h&', payi'lAtat wj'k~wa?, M0"ta?, ~'h-ak5 wi'nah mAmd'tsi~ta'wAlk WAyd'pah mud'waw kus~'wAkin as awj'h-pahpi'situa?. ta'2, mihk4'niih wi'nah ap kusj'win. 8jp.~'w iniwi 'n winah as nanii'hah; wAna'Inipih ini's ini'win as awM~w~'kit, nahdi'?2 niw hk&'niih. uhs'mehs~n ta'WAnin; iniwi'n niw ds-ni'siftua? uhs~mehs~n wvawi'kitua2 si'piah. hii'uw, a'kum tdh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 271 Then the trader said: "How are you, Turtle? What is it?" Turtle said, "I want to get supplies on credit," said Turtle. "Well, what have you got? Do you hunt?" asked the trader. Now, Turtle's legs were short, hardly was he able to walk. So therefore the trader said to him: "Why, Turtle, you can't hunt. You couldn't kill anything. I shan't give you anything; no, I can't give you anything on credit," said the trader. "Get out of here!" said the trader. Poor Turtle, he went out of there. Then he went into another store. "Well, what is it, Turtle?" asked the trader. "Why, I want to purchase on credit." "Oh, go along! I can't give you anything!" said the trader. Poor Turtle, again he departed. He entered another place. "Well, what do you want, Turtle?" "Why, I want to get supplies on credit." "Oh, go along, I can't let you have any," said the trader. Poor Turtle, off he went, again. Now, way out at one end of the place was a store. Last of all he went in there, when he had gone into all the stores and had been given no credit. "Well, what can I do for you, Turtle?" "Why, I want to get supplies on credit," he said. "All right, I'll give you some, Turtle. What is it you want to buy?" asked the trader. "Thanks! When I come back from hunting, I'll give you fur," said Turtle to the trader. "All right, Turtle, all right, all right, all right, all right, fine and dandy,.Turtle, fine and dandy! Bring the fur, Turtle, bring it, bring it, bring it; I'll give you credit!" "Well, I want some twine." "How much?" "Oh, a long string! As long as the length of this house here, that long a string am I going to use in my hunting," he said. "Well, and what else?" "Oh, that is all," said Turtle. So he went home; he carried his twine on his back. When he reached their place of dwelling, then on the next day all those people moved camp and went off hunting. Of course, Turtle moved camp too. He canoed up the river; upstream was where he went to camp, Turtle, by himself. He Jhad a younger brother, and the two of them, Turtle and his brother, camped by the river. 272 272Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII MAMa'tsqi~ta'wAk, I, mdna'WAki'n -s pahpi'situa2. mihkdi'ndh wdni'tip1'hkah ini'win-pih maydi'tsiAt; ani'nuh MAMaI'tsi~ta 'wAn m&'wa niw aw~'h-kim6'ime'win rnAnatowAn, ani'nuh MAMd'tsi~taWAn. h&a,' hat'nuw as lci-pahpi'.situa2MAMd'ts3i~taWAlc, kawin kd'k~h uki-nd'minuwd'wAn. pipii'n d'hk-wah kawi'n kd'kc5h una'?tunuWa'WAn 'mAna't~si~ta'wAlc; mihkd'ndh md'wa niw ke-s-kim5'timew MAndto'WAn. hani 'nuh tdwd'wineni 'WAn ini's kAn tsi-kjs-mj'nikut kAtei'W-MAs3'nahUkit, iniwin wdi'h teh ani'nuh MAMdi'tsi~taWAn as kim6'tiA'tsin, ani 'nuh tawd'wine 'niwtAn s kUs-nehk~hikut. tdwd'wine'niWAn kAn u~kjs-mi'ni1~unan s kAtdW-mnAsijnahikdit. ini', tOh mihkii'niih s kjsnehk5's3it. 'ha'w. wdihtsita kd'2tin nina-kim6'eMAWAk mAmd'tsi~tawAk MAn-dtowAn,tdwii'wineniw icAn wi' y~n MAnatowAn s a-niiw&'tsin;, wd?8i'kAn ma wa niw nikd'ta-kim6'temd'WAk MAM&'tsi~ta'WAk.' kd'2tin teh niw kUs-kim5'timew mihkd'ndh MAnato'WAn; MAMd.'tsi~tawAk teh ki8-pu'AWi~taWA'kin md'wa niw, mihldi'ndh s nehk6'sit. hd'w, wina'h tdh mihkd'ndh, aya-'k nAMa'hkuk mana'wAkin misi as wj'kit. nahei'w, ini'Win tdh as3 n6'tsiha'tsin nAMa'hkun mihkii'n~th. k&'hkap inih iniwi'n kiw-awei't~k; ini's as3 w~'kit iniwi'n niw ki-y6'k~kit; nipi'hih an&'mi ah kiw-isi'win; nAMa'hkun uhlci'tih inih le&'hkap iniwin s ki-wjh-kehpen&'tsin md'wa niw, misi as w#g'kinit. ta'2, nA~md'hkuk nayd'nikutu'hkin kiw-mdnd'WAkin, nIAMa'hlkul, misi we'k~wa2. md'wa niw ki-kehpind'win uhkd't~wa2 ani'nuh nAmii'hkun mihkd'ndh. iniwi'n-pih mihkd'ndh k&'hkap ki-siiwi'kinah ahki'hih. nimd'2, nAmad'hkuk md'wa niw uhkd't~wa2 kehp~'85WAkin kdi'hkap! ahki'hih teh umi'win kiw-isiAnd'tsin mihkd'ndh. iniwi'n-pih tdh si ki-pd'pAkamd't~sin as ki-ne~na'ts3in nimii'hkun. hfi'u, iniwi'n tdh ki-k~'wdt tsiw-ut&'tsima'tsin mehkvu'Amiah, wj'k~wa? piAtd'wvihatsin. 'hd' W, nehsC', nj,'tam~wi'na2.! nAMd'hkuk nipind'WAk; kinawj'nan~'htsike2,' ind'win uhse-mehsAn. nimd'2, pipftn d'hkuah mesi'h ne?ne'win mihkd'niih nAMd'hkun. sayikwAn6'wik, kayis-sd'hkamik inih sWpe-w, iniwin-pih kayiwd'tua2 mihkd'ndh. md"ts-me~tik5s d'wiwin umd'2tik6'nem; nAMa'hkwAku,'mIn~ y&'hpits3 m6's3kinewin ume~tik6'nem mihkd'nah. hd', payiAta'tua2, '5', mihkd'ndth sa~yd'h pi'w!' ~wd'kin MAMd'tsi~ta'wAk. nimd'2, vumd'2tik5'nem ndskd~n niw sdkipi'win, wd'2sikAn ini'k~h tsi-pi't~k! hd'ta2, way&'pah, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt as minikdn~'wik, m~hkumd 'n-mini 'kn. payi 'Atat utd'tawewineni 'AMAn We'mWAtI, 'nahd'w, ni~a't, ut&'tsi - kuAn nipis-nd'ndw; wd'2s3ikAn nd'ti'h; nik~s-pi't~n n~'kih; mini s a' 'Nek. kipis-nat6min,' ind'win. 'h&'w,' ~wd'hin AtaWa'wine,'niw, 'ayu,'m d? nj'rnAt aw-is8yA't, -ut&'tsikWAnAn pd'8ikukAsi'WAnaw-aw&'ndw. kinaw-witsi' wdw,' ind'w. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 273 There were many of those people hunting. Turtle went forth at night and stole all the animals from those people. Even though those people used to hunt, they never saw any game.1 All winter long the people killed not a thing; Turtle stole all the animals from them. Because those traders had not let him have things on credit, that was why he robbed the people; the traders had offended him. They had not given him credit, so now Turtle had become angry. "Yes, truly will I steal the animals from the people, so that the traders shall not get sight of a single animal; I intend to steal all the furs from the people." Turtle really stole the animals; the people all went without food because Turtle was angry. Where Turtle was camping there were many beavers. So now Turtle hunted beavers. He simply would take that twine; from where he was camping he used to dive; he would go under the water and tie the string to the beavers' legs, there where they all dwelt. The beavers, you see, are sometimes very numerous there in their lodges; all of them would Turtle tie by their legs. Thereupon Turtle used to pull the string up to the land. Dear me, all the beavers were tied by their legs to that string! Up on the land Turtle used to bring them. Then he merely kept hitting the beavers and killing them. Then he would go home, getting them there by dragging them over the ice. "Well, little brother, help me; I am bringing beavers; let us prepare them," said he to his brother. All winter long Turtle killed beavers in large quantity. When spring came and the river was open, Turtle and his brother returned home. A big dug-out was his canoe, and completely full of beaver-pelts was Turtle's dug-out. When they arrived, "There comes Turtle!" said the people. Why, his dug-out barely kept above water, so much fur was he bringing! On the next day he went to town, to the white'men's town. When he came to his friend, the trader, "Well, my friend, I have come to get a wagon; come fetch the furs; I have brought them to my house, that is where they are. I have come to get you," he said to him. "All right," said the trader, "my partner here will go, he will take a horse and wagon and go with you," said he to him. 1 That is, presumably, never found anything in their traps. 18 274 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII we'mAtAn ta'wAnin AtdiWd'wine 'niw; ani'win ta-h wayi'tsiwd'tsinl mihkdi'nJdh as n&'tikua2 wd'2sikAn. 2&1w, payiAta'tua2 mihkdi'ndih wZ'kih, 'h&'w, y5'2 as wj'kiyen,' indi'win ani'nuh usdkdpi'naSUMAn. pini'2tatua2 utatsilku'AnAn as pii'situa2, payihtike'tua2 mihlki'ndh w~'kih, nimdi'2, yei'hpits m5skine'win wd'2silcan mihlki'na-h wj'kih! 'M'fw, y6'2 kih i'nih wdi'2sikAn; kAtdi's p6'sihtuh,' ind'win. ha'w, m6'hlkumdn p6'sihtawin wd'2sikAfl 'Utatiku'Anih. h&A,, yiihpi'ts m~skine'win inuh utdi'tsikUAn m6'sah wd'2sikAn. kim&'tsia2 s minikdnj'wikc,' ejwd'hin inuh ind'niw, inuh m5'hkumdn. ho'w, mihldi'nih lkayiwd'tua2, AtaWa'wikAmi'kuh isyA'tua?, payiAtd'tu~a2 inih mini'kdn, hdi'W, tdw'i'wineni'WAk md'wa ni niw sdkit~hneWA'kin as tsi~napumnd'tua2 mihkdn&'hkun. 'hi'y, mihlke"ndh, k-Amd'n, /cuma'n!' Atawa'wineniWAk, zciw'Ikin. hd'w, mihkdi'ndh y8'win a'napit, sii'2saka'tapit. h&'wv, imiwi'n and'pit, mindi'? imiwi'n dini'pit, kawin p6'ts uts,'?napumdi'nan ani'nu~h tdiwa'wineniWAn as nat6milkut. mi,'hikan ta'? ini'h dyiy'tuh iniwi'n as ni'puwitua2 a/cul tawd'wine'niwAkc. wd'?s3ikAn m6's/cine'win inuh ut&'tsikwAn. wd'htsita'wl kcAtdw-kd`9ts-tipdhamu'/cin a/ci'/uh, t~wd'wine n~iwAkc inih wd'2sikcAn. Chjf'y, mihke'ndh, pyA'fnun! sftnye'n me~si'hk /ina-mi'nin!' kiwi/cu'ahin tawa'wine'niWAn mihldi'ndh. hd'w, wdi'wahtd? misa'hsinirt misi, utd'tsikcwAnih. 'p~n wi'nah ki-Si'Ahkcah,' irud'win aninuh wi'matAn, 'p6'n kcisi'A~h/cah,' indi'win, 'nd's kAt lkvi/it5'WAk J'h-akum. MAtsi'?-tdiwd~'wine 'ni wA/c a'wiwA/c; kcAn nikcs-mj'nikcunuw I'wan s /cjs-/cAtd'w-mas9'nahikdi'yan.' hdi"ta2, prisi/cu,'kASi'wAkc ndk niw pim6AhnewA/cin, sinawRi'? niw. hii, ahkcv3'2si/c y6'win /cd~tsi'h as pim5`hnetua'? a/ci'k~h tdwet'wine'niWAk. 'hj'y, ni'nah nj'/cih pyA'nun, mih/ce'neih!' 'p6'n! ni'nah, ni'nah, ni'nah, ni'nah, pyA'nun, pyA'nun, pyA'nun, ni'nah, ni'nah, ni'nah!' misi'/c ni/cu't: 'pyA'nun! ni'nah! sii'n yen kcinaw-rnj'nin, me?si'h /cinaw-mj'nin 8s'Vn yen!' misi'/c ni/cut. kcAn p6's teh wi'nah ukci-tsj'?napumdi'nan mihkcd'naih. lud'w, payiAtd'tu~a2 uta'tawd'wineni'AmAn, h~i A, scu,'Ahtemih mni's, dAta2, atawd'wineniWAkc iniwi'n niw md'waw as pi'Atua2, as na/ca'?tAt mih/cd'n~ih. 'h&'w, pyA'nun, pyA'nun, pyA'nun, ni'nah, ni'nah, ni'nah pyA'lufl n~'kcih, ni'nah pyA'nun ni~'/ih! sii'nien kcinaw-mJ'nin, sii'nien /cinawmj'nin!' hdi'ta2, Wj'MAtAn payi 'Atat, sa/cit6'hnewin Atdwdi'wine'niw, qWrnatAn. 'hat'w, inisa'? as pi'yen, ni~a't!/' i/cu'ahin mihcdi'niih wll'mnAtAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 275 The trader had a partner, and he went with Turtle to fetch the furs. When they got to Turtle's dwelling; "All right, here is where I live," said Turtle to his driver. When they got off the wagon and entered Turtle's house, why, the furs entirely filled Turtle's house! "Well here is that fur; just load it on," he said to him. The white man loaded the furs into the wagon. Lo, entirely full was that wagon, all full of pelts. "There, that's it," said the white man; "All right, Turtle, let's start for town," said that man, that American. When Turtle and the other went back on their way to the store, and reached the town, then all the traders came out and looked at Turtle. "Hey, Turtle, come on, come on!" said the traders. Turtle looked straight ahead of him and sat rigidly upright. He kept looking straight ahead, not at all did he look at those traders who called him. On both sides of the road stood the traders. Entirely full of pelts was that wagon; truly very eager were the traders to buy those pelts. "Hey, Turtle, come here! I'll give you lots of money!" the traders kept saying to Turtle. Oh, all unconcerned sat Turtle there on the wagon. "Don't go fast," he said to his companion, "Don't go fast; let these fellows just talk; they are miserable traders; they would not accomodate me when I wanted to buy on credit." Now the horses barely went at a very slow walk. Oh, at last those traders walked up as close as this. "Hey, come to my place, Turtle!" "No, me, me, me, come here to me, come here to me!" And another: "Come here, to me, I'll give you money, I'll give you lots of money," said another. But Turtle did not even look at them. When they got to his trader, whew! right up to the door came all those traders, when Turtle stopped. "Ho, come on, come on, come to my place! To mine, come to my place! I'll give you money; I'll give you money!" When he reached his friend's, out from the house came the trader, his friend. "Oh, so here you are, friend!" said Turtle's friend to him. 18* 276 276Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII h',' ind'win, 'hd'ui, kAtd's aku,'Anah Mh-y5'm wdi'2sikAn,' ini'wifl We'MAtAn. nimdA2, y&'hpits m5skine'win wd'2sikAn, flAma'hkWAkUMAk. 'h&A, n~'MAt, wj'sqkiWAt, mihke'n~th, wZ'skiWAt, wZ'skiWAt, we'slkiWAt, We'8kiWAt, wZ'skiWAt, wZ'8kiWAt, mihke'na-h, wj'skiwAt, ul'e skiWAt! ha'w, kOAt's, aku'Anah, pi'h~tikat6'h, pihtikat5'h., pi-htikat6'h!' ined'win utii-'skineni 'AMAn AtAWa'wine 'niw. hJ,"ta2, wd'htsitaw kd~ti'n wa'2s8ikAn, usami'nAt. ma'waw kayi-spi'htikato-k, h&'W, AtaWa 'wineniw iniwi'n sc~yd'h as ak~m&d'tin anli'nuh nAmahkwvAkuI'MAn. hj'y, ta'?, 'niku,'t, ni's, ne'2niw, ni'w,. nyAinAn, nekfutu'Asitah. n6'hikan, su'asik, s&'kdw, mit&'tah,' nimaA, iniwi'n niw ahpd'n niw. 'mit&'tah, mit&'tah, mitei'tah, mit&'tah, rnit&'tah.' me'2,sih mit&'tah d'WiWAkifl nAMa'hkwAku'MAlk. h& 'w, AtaWa'wi'ne 'niw usut'nyen-mahkca'h pa-hkaha'min usut'nyAnem as kit&'watulc, m&'waw s akj'htah usiinyA'nem; 'niku't, ni's, ne'2niw, ni'w, fli'AflAfl, nikittu,'ASitah, n6'hikan, su'asik, sd'kdw, mit&'tah sut'n yen,' me?s8i'h iniwi'n ahpa'n niw: 'metdYtah sut'nyen, metd'tah sii'n yen, meta'tah 8f2'n yen, metJ'tah sii'n yen, metd'tah sft'n yen, met&'tak sii'n yen, metii'tah sft'n yen, meftd'tah sii'n yen, metd'tah sut'n yen.' hIu~, sut'nien umd'win, dnispij'hneh, sii'nien-masjnahj'1canan, mihkdi'nah usiinyA'nem. h&'ta2, mihkd'neih inih Atft'hpuAn inih, as n' pu~wit, ndisk'i'n niw siikehkcik&'puwj'win, taslk6'siw-in&'niw. ii'ta2. as uta'hpinah mihkdi'ndh usft'nyAnem, h A, ndiskd'n niw, y6'win a'Sj~tAt, neskdi'n niw tapinA'min inih usunyA'nem as mawatu,'nah, task5'siw-indi'niw as np,'puwit, ta'2 anum undi'hkcAn, anu'm tatasku,'AhkWAtun, uk kii 'tan misi 'i tatasku'AhlkWAtun. Md'W, kayjs-md'wvatunah uw-3fnyA'nem, ka.'w, ftiwa'wineniw iniwin di's: 'kAni'w, mihke'nah, lkipj'hsehka'kan kik&'tew-m~'nin, misi'k tdh kilki'slkitsi'weyan, misi'lk tdh kikdi'puti2 kik&'te-mej'nin, misi'k tah kimdihkesi'nan misi'k- tdh kiwi'AhkWAn. ini'?-nikuh kt''taw-mjCninan,' jw&'hin AtdWa'wine'niw. 'inih kisiinyA'nem imi's niw kAt a '2tew; kAni'w kjs-p52sdi'hkaman kip6'2s3ehkalka'nan, ini'? s a-pj'hnaha'man kisfinyA'nem,' jwdi'hin AtctWa'wine'niw. 'h&'w, una'pahtah, mihke'ndh, kipjhsehka'kan m~isi'k kki'skitsi'weyan, kikii'puti?, icimdihke.-.i 'nan, kiwi'Ahk-WAn.' h&'ta?, wd'htsitaw k~i'2tin y6'win d'nispj'hnehkin p62s'i'hkaka'nan! h&',W mihkd'nah mi-kusii'hkamin ini'h nikut pj'hsehka'kan ki'skitsi'weyan. kh'w, wa'htsitaw iniwi'n as min5'skah up~'hsehka'kan. ha'wi, uk4i'vuti? tdh kawi'n umd'nuslka'nan; ya'k hpits niw, ta'?, y~h aMA's, e'h-UMAs umAih me'2nikenin mihkd,'nah,. s kAtd'w-iu'hc u'ahah, y&'h pits kawi'n, umd'nuskA'nan ukdi'pati9, mis3i'k tdh, hWy, kinuApi'kAtin inih ukd'puti2. 'hdi'w, nina-kj,'skahan,' jwa'hin AtJ'wId'win~e'niw. AtaWa,'wine'niw niku't inih MdAts-kipil'ti2 mim-utd'hpinA'min; hdi'w, iniwin-pih tdik kay~'skisah, &'pehtoaw uhkk'tih as &'wik, iniwi'n as kj,'skis3ah. ho'w, iniwi'n tdk niw ayd'yahkikdtd'kih inih mihkd'ndh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 277 "All right there!" he said to him. "All right, go ahead and unload these furs," he said to his partner. Oh, but it was entirely full of furs, beaver-pelts. "Well, friend Turtle, this is fine! Splendid, Turtle, splendid, splendid, splendid! - Well, go ahead, unload it, bring it inside, bring it inside, bring it inside!" said the trader to his assistant. Truly there was more fur than you could tell. When he had brought it all inside the place, the trader counted the beaver-pelts. Heigh ho! "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," - it just went on like that: "Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten," - Many ten's there were of beaver-pelts. The trader opened his money-box and hauled out his money, and counted it all out: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten dollars," - to a large quantity it kept on that way: "Ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars, ten dollars...." Ho, the money lay piled as high as this, paper money, Turtle's money. As Turtle stood there, his head was barely above the edge of the table; he was a short man. And when Turtle took up his money, he could just barely, when he did this way, - just barely get his arms round his money to gather it up; he was a short man in stature, and accordingly his arms were short, and so were his legs. When he had gathered up all his money, then said the trader: "Wait, Turtle, I want to give you a coat and waistcoat and trousers and shoes and a hat. That much I want to give you," said the trader. "Just let your money lie here; then, when you have put on your clothes, you can put your money in your pockets. Well then, Turtle, pick out your coat, waistcoat, trousers, shoes, and hat." Truly, the clothes lay piled as high as this. Turtle tried on a coat and waistcoat. The coat fit him well, but he did not have a good fit of the trousers, for Turtle was decidedly big right here, round the stomach. When he wanted to button them, the trousers did not fit him at all, and at the same time, why, those trousers were very long, too! "Well, I'll cut them off short," said the trader. The trader went to work and took a great big pair of trousers and cut it off short; halfway down the leg there was where he cut it off. So now Turtle's trousers were of the proper length at 278 278Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ukdfi'puti2. ha'w, pimi'-p62sd'i'/damin rnihkd'ndh, nimd'2, nane'hpAkCa'ts! wdhtsita'w iniwi' n s mine3'slah ukdi'puti2 mihldi'ndh. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih tdh mi~si'k umdAkesi'nan p6'2sehlcah. kay~'sp52sdi'hkcah, ini'h tdih ahkA'n~h ini'2 kayjs-isin&'kuahkin Wi'AhkWAnAn, - hWY, k~,s-kAkcanu'ahkWAtun ani'nuk lckd' yes-Wi'AhkwAnAn, lcjs-MAskc&'wikhtsilcatd'WAn ani'nuh Wi'AhlcwAnAn, iniwi isiZ'lin p6'2sehkah. h&'w, md'waw kayj's-p52sd'hlcah mihkd'ndh, iniwi'n s pd'pein5'hnet, nnd'h-pAlcd'ts! 'lce'ts, ke'ts, ke'ts, ke'ts3, WcMt, ke'ts, ke'ts31!' iniwdi'skcamin mihlcd'ndh. 1u7'w, tdwd'wine'niw wdhtsitd'w iniwin as mini'nihtah. 'hdi'w, lcinaw-mind'mn, mihIlcd'ndh; sk~tdwd'puh nitd'2t~n,' jdh AtaWa' Wine' niw. 'haT'wv, ninaw-mind'rn ninaw-mind,'in, ninaw-rnind'm!' AtaWd'wifle'niw min'm-utd'hpina'min s8i'2silcWAn misilc ~unidk'hseh as a~tuwd'tsin AtUt'hpUAnih mihkdnd&'hlcun. 'nahd'w, ni~a't, mind'nun!' indi'Win Atawa-' wine' niw wej'matAn. Ji'w, mihlcd'ndh mi'rn-utd'hpinA'min 8t'28icWAfl as sij'kinah unai — lcd'hsihsih sIk-tdwd'puah s lcd'2ts-mind'k. h&'w, ni'w-inuh md'nik mihlcd'ndh, h&'w, UWi'AhlcWAn u~pa'pAlca'htAnih umd'win as a'2tel-,, uwi 'AhlcwAn. ne~nimd 'w-uhpu'AklAnAn sdT'lamnema"'win as 'uhpu'At pd-pim6'hnet mihlcd'ndh. haT'ta2, ta"?, inuh WaWe'MAtit, 'ha', kend'h, lcend'h, lcen&'h, wiskiWA't, W~8kiwA't, wjeskiwA't, wjskiWA't, wiskiwA', mihke'naih, milhke'ndh, mihlce'nath, ni'MAt, weslciWA't, wjskiWA't, weslciwA't, mihke,'ndh, mihke'nd~h! hd'w, mind'nun, ni~a't!' - ta'2, winah a'p minu'ahin tdwd'wine 'niw. h&'w, iniwi'n tdh sa~yd'h lcayi'waslcipi'tua2 pdpimii'hnitua2 wj'matAn mihlcd'ndh pi'htilc wi'lciwA'mih. lc~td's ayd'wilc sa~yd'h mihidi'naik iniwin as cd'2t-s-ci WA'ski pit. lcAniwi'n kcah niw kayd'2ts-nicd'mit: 'ndnAwjht5 nitdwjm!'2 juwd'hin mihlcd'ndh as nilc&'mit. kiwA't, ni~a't, nilcd'minun, me~si'h!P jwa-'hin tawd'wirni niw we - MAtAn. 'ndn~wjht6 nitdwim! ndn~wjh~t5 nitdwjm!' jw&'hin mihlcd'ndh nilc&'mit. hd'w, iniwi'n icah nilc6td's sa~ye'h as lcj'wdt. 'haT'w, nilcd'ta-lcZ'wdm,' jwaT'hin. 'hd'w, ni~at, pdsilculAsi'wAc lcinaw-awei'niculc; utd'tsilcwAn Icinaw~p6'sim,' iku'ahin ani'nuh wej'matAn. 'nilcu't titd'2tipahdn Icinawawd't~n slc~tdwd'puh Wk'cih,' iku'ahin ani'nuh u'j'matAn. 1 The last ke'W with nasalized e. 2nc'w'tani'wm 2ndnawj'htaw nitdwim. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 279 the leg. Turtle went to put them on: oh, splendidly did Turtle's trousers now fit him! Then he put on his shoes. When he had put them on, then one of those hats, the way they were in the old days, - tall were those old-fashioned hats and stiff they were made, - that was the kind he put on. Then, when Turtle had donned it all, then he started walking about. Splendid! "Squeak, squeak, squeak!" was the noise Turtle made as he stepped. The trader was very much pleased. "Now you shall have a drink, Turtle; I have some whiskey," said the trader. "Good! I'll have a drink, I'll have a drink, I'll have a drink." The trader went and took the bottle and a glass and set it on the table before Turtle. "Well, friend, have a drink!" said the trader to his friend. Oh, Turtle, took the bottle and poured whiskey into the glass and took a big drink. Four drinks Turtle took. His hat was sitting on the side of his head. He had a cigar sticking from his mouth and walked about smoking. Then that friend of his: "Well, Turtle, old boy, first rate, first rate, fine and dandy, Turtle, old boy, fine, Turtle! Come on, take a drink, old boy!" - for the trader had been drinking too. Soon they were both drunk, Turtle and his friend, and started walking about all over the house. After a while, Turtle was entirely drunk, and then he began singing at the top of his voice: "A warrior-hero Am I!" were the words of Turtle's song. "Ho, all right, all right, all right, all right, my friend, just you sing, for all you're worth!" said the trader to his friend. "A warrior-hero Am I! A warrior-hero Am I!" were the words of Turtle's song. At last it was time for him to go home. "Well, I am going home," he said. "All right, friend; the horses will take you, you shall ride in a wagon," said his friend to him. "You shall take along a barrel of whiskey to your house," his friend said to him. 280 280Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hd'w, w~iwd'nin, ni~a't, wdw4i'nin, ni~a't!' ind'win mihkd'ndh. tawd'wine'niwv kay~s-uhpind'tsin up.''siku'k~siAMAn, iniwi'n-pih pay6'siha'tsin w~'matAn. sk~tdwdi'puk nileut tifti'2tipahlin pft'sih'nahd'w,, awa~si'n!' ini'win utft'tskineni'AMAn, AtctWd'wine'/niw. hdi'ta?, mihkdi'neih iniwi'n sa~ye'h s ldi'ts-ki'wAslkipit. ha'w, payiAtd'tu~a2 mAmd'tsi~taWAk uma"'nikA'n~wa2, mini'Ikdn, M(7'ta2, tayd~pd'pahtah mihkd'ndih. kd.'2ts-nikd'nu~win: nitdwim! niidiwjht65 nitdwim! &,wa'hin mihka'neih. mihli'nOh! ki'wAskipi'w), ki'WAslcipi'w, ki'WAskip1/W!'P jwd'kin k7J'ta2 lckd'?tin UWi'AhlcWAn andi'p niwv umdi'win as a' 2tek-, UWi'Ah/kwAn, ki'qvAslki'pit. hdi'w, payiAta'tua2 w~'1c~wa2, ta'?, wj'matan iniwin as V'nit. 'ha'w, ni~a't, mind'nun, sk~tulw'puh nipito'n!' ind'win uhs#~'mehSAn. h&.'ta2, we'matAn iniwi'n s mindi'nik. 'hd'w, wdiwd'nin, mihke'ndh!' iku'ahin ta2 anuh wj'matAn. mitsi' niw teh niwv tanii'mukin inih ti'tdi'tipahudn slk~tdwi'puh, mind'Icua2; mitsi' niw min6'lcin. iniwin wd'h teh kc~n s kiw-usi'mit, kutdi'2nas nayi'Ahtsin inuh mihkdi'n~th. iniwi'n tdih di'hkik ntd'naw~'htaw as a'wit. ini'? mii'waw. 90. TURTLE WINS A RACE. (nehts8i'wihtuk) nahkd'w, mini'kdin a~te'win, md'ts-mini 'kin, MAM'tsi?tawAlc umd'nikanuwaw. mihkdi'ndh wina'h ap ini'win as we'kit; uhsj'meh8An w~'1kimewin; kAn wi'yAn we'wAn. ini'? niw ds-ni'situa2 ani'nuh uhs~'MehSAn. nahd'w, nilk~ta's aya'wik, inuh ukj'mdw MAMd'ts?,?taw, - nilku't a wiwAnin utd'nan, ki~sJ'hseh, -- hM'w, inuh kdi'?ts-indi'niw ukg'mdw aya'it ini'win dini'tsin Wj'WAn: 'naha'w, WeYAWe'keh, ini'? lkeI s3a?ye'h as pas wjkimi'wdit e~'h-ayum kitd'ninaw. inu'h kinaw-nite3 -ndUh'naw kayi'hki?tAt ind'niw; mnu'? aw-un6Iud'hkim~'yahi, a-wj'kimatsin ~'h-anum kitdnina'wan.' indi'win w~ts-wj' yAwjk1ehkun ke?tsind'niw. 'nahur'w,' jwa'hin inuh wZ' yAwZ'keh, 'ktd'? ini'h PA5 d'siki'makah?' jw&'hin We' YAWkeh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 281 "Thank you, friend; thank you, friend," said Turtle to him. When the trader had hitched up his horses, he put Turtle on the wagon. He put a barrel of whiskey on the wagon for him. "All right, take him there," the trader told his assistant. By this time Turtle was very drunk. When they reached the Indian village, as soon as Turtle came in sight of it, he sang at the top of his voice: "A warrior-hero Am I! A warrior-hero Am I! Whoop!" were Turtle's words. "Hey, what's happened to him? Why, Turtle is drunk, Turtle is drunk, Turtle is drunk!" said the people. And to be sure, his hat was way to one side, like this, his hat, because he was drunk. When they got to his wigwam, there was his brother. "Hi, old boy, have a drink; I'm bringing some whiskey," he said to his brother. So then his brother took a drink. "Oh, thanks, Turtle," said his brother to him. To this day they are said to have that barrel of whiskey to drink; they are said to be still drinking it. That is why Turtle does not run away when one comes upon him anywhere. To this extent, it is said, he is a warrior-hero. That is all. 90. TURTLE WINS A RACE. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) There was a village, a big village where some people dwelt. Turtle lived there too; with his younger brother he lived; he had no wife. There were only he and his brother. Then once upon a time, the chief, - one daughter had he, a young girl, - that old man who was chief said to his wife: "Now, wife, it is time for our daughter to marry. Let us find out a man who can run fast; him let us have for our son-in-law; let him marry our daughter," said the old man to his wife. "Very well," said the old woman, "but how can that be brought about?" 282 ~~282 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 'hd'w, ninaw-wjYhtam~w&I'WAk apdhni'hSAk wd'pah as aw-mdwatsi'hsgihkua2 s a-Jcehtsi'Aniti'tua2. jh-y5'm nipj'hseh wayiki'Ahtamah, akd'miah imj'? d'wih-uhtsj'pahtu'kua2 as aw-lkehtsyA'niti'tua2. hd 'w, icina'? tdh #~'h-UM~swahkitd'hkiah as Ct'wilc, y6'? as aw-awe-h-apj'yah, s aw-ap~'t ayum kitd'ninaw. inu,'h tdh niw nd,'2tam a-pits-tii'pipund& tsin, inu'? a-wj'kiMA'tsin kitii'nina'wan as aw-un6hd'hkimj'yah,' iwdi'hin ke~t8-ind'niw. k&'w, wdi'htsita'w ini'win as mini'nihtah WJ'YAW~1keh, misi'k tdih ki~s#'hseh wd'htsita'w mini'nihtAmin as kAtd'w-w~1kimj'wdt, kayi'hIki?tA'nit as kAtdW-W~'kima'tsin pdhni'h8An. hd'w, iniwi'n 8a~ye'h uk#j'mdw as an~nd'tsin niku't apdhni'hSAn as aw-ditsimi'nit ini'h dnd'nihtah, sa~yeh s tdt-w~'kimiwdi'nit utd'nan. Ihd'w, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsiAt inuh pdhni'hseh as papdm-di'tsimit, inilh mini'kdn dinikft'hkuah misi'k spd'miah ayi'tua2 uhp#~'2tawakc laydlki'hlki~tA'tua2 md"wa ni'w as nAtomd'tsin apiihni'hseh. Ih56A, kit6 'kimaminaw, kit6'kimaminaw 8a~ydi'h kAtdi'w-wj1kimiWa'WAn utd'nan! apehni'hsAk, wii'pah kik~h misj'wdi niw kimi-'tumiicunaw as aw-md'watsj'hsine yak. kAtd'w-kehtsiAnit5'wAk apihn~'hsAk. inu,'h teh a-pa yd'8iwet inu'win a-wtj'Iimatsin uklo'miw utd'nan,' jwd'hin apahni'hseh, ma wa 'w as wjhtam~wd'tsin, lcaki'hlcih isj'hMAnctto'WAk kaydki'hlcitA'tua2. 'hJA!' jwd'kin mAna3wWAk, whp#j'2taWAk isp4'miah ayi'tua? kaydiki'hki?tA'tua2. nahd'w, misil Mh-y5'8 ahki'hih ayi'tua2 kaydki'hki?tA'tua2 apcilni'h8Ak mdiwa ni'w wdi'htsita kdi'2tin ini'win as mini'nihtdi'hku~a2 apdhni'hsAk, md'waw ini'kuh kAn tsi-wi'kimiwd'tna2. 'hd'w, mihkii'niih awMh-w~'htam5'hun, na'Ip wi'nah as a-keh~c~nah ei'na'?sutah lkit6kima'minaw.' hd'w, iniwi'n-pih d~si'Atua2 mihtkdnd'hkun, as lkAtaW-We'limiwa nit,u~kjmd'w u~ti'nan. 'hd'w, mihkend'h, wd'pah kAtdW-mdi'watsj'hsimjwdw inuhk /it65 -kima'minaw; utii'nan kAtdW-Wi'kimiwd'uWAn. ini'? pits-i8-wj'htam5'nan,' ind'win mihkdi'ndh. 'hi3h, ninaw-isyA'm,. nina-w~'h-1kehtsi'Asiwem nina'h ap,' ~wd'hin pdi'hpiskahdi'win 8a?ye'h wdi'niip4'hkah, ini'win sa~yeh ndndi'katawd?'nihtah mihkki'ndh td'? tsi-IcAtct'w-ise'2tAt s a-pa yd'siwit. hi', ta'?, md'ts-nip*'hseh d'wiwin inih nipej'hseh s tsi-kAtti'w-kehtsi'Aniti'tua2. 1ud'w, iniwi'n-pih maydiwatsJ'IhsiMA'tsin uhsj'mehsAn mihka'ndhk5'h8An. kayj8-mdi'watsi'8sI&1icua?, 'nahd'w, nehsj'MehsAk, wd'pah as 1CAti'w-lkehts8i'Anitih kina-ndtam5'WiMUAw as aw-kehtsi'AsiWe' yak,' ind'win uhs#Mehs~n. 'hd'w!' jwd'kin aki'kuh mihkdndhlk6'h8Ak. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 283 "Why, I shall tell the young lads to assemble tomorrow for a race. From the other shore of this lake by which we dwell, they will start to run their race. You and I shall go sit right over there, on the high ground, and so shall our daughter. And whoever first gets here and takes hold of her, he shall marry our daughter; him we shall have for son-in-law," said the old man. Truly, the old woman liked this plan, and the girl, too, was glad indeed that she was to marry, and to marry a lad who was swift of foot. So then the chief bade one young man announce his plan, that his daughter was now to marry. Away went that lad to spread the news abroad, to call everyone throughout the town, as well as the birds of the air, who were swift in the race. "Ho! Our chief, our chief's daughter is now going to marry! Young men, all of us are called to assemble in council tomorrow. The young men are to race. He who wins the race, it is announced that he shall wed the chief's daughter." Thus spoke the young man, announcing it to all the animals who were fleet in the race. "It is well," said the animals, and the swift birds of the air. And those fleet-footed youths, also, who dwelt here on the earth, all of them truly were pleased, as many as were not married. "Go tell Turtle, that he too may know what our chief has decreed." So then they went to Turtle, to tell him that the chief's daughter was going to wed. "Turtle, tomorrow our chief is going to call a council; his daughter is going to get married. That is what I have come to tell you," Turtle was informed. "To be sure, I shall go there; I shall go and race, too," said Turtle. When night came on, Turtle reflected as to what he should do to win the race. Now, it was a big lake, that lake over which they were to race. So then he gathered together his younger brothers, the Little Turtles.1 When they were all assembled, "Well, little brothers, tomorrow in the race you will help me: we shall race against the people," he said to his younger brothers. "Yes," said the Little Turtles. 1 Inconsistent with beginning of story, where Turtle has, as usual, but one brother. 284 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini'win-pih mayats8yA'tua2 imi's as isi'At ua? kAtN'w-tas~'h-kehtsyA'nitih. ay&'pehtawakAm as di'wik ini'h nipj'hseh, ini'win as tu'ahah inih mehku'AM. 'nahd'w, nehW?', y5'2 ki'nah as a-s8i'8ehlkj'hsineyan. kahpi'h UMA 's niw) kAs ni'wv ihpih pis-t&'tua2 aki'kuh kehtsi'Anit6'wdc, Iud'w, ini'2-pih a-mutislami'yen as a-t8V'2napumatua2 aki'kuh kehtsi'Anito'wAk. k&~-nd'watua'7, ini'2-pih a-ldt'2ts-h~h5'pi yen: "hj'y, nip&'yanaWAk, nip ' yanaWAk, nipa'yanaWAk, nip& 'yanaWAk kehtsi'Anit6 -wA/C! ha'w, lia'w, ha'w, ha'w, ha'w!" kCinaw-it&'n. 1u7'w, ini'2-pih misi'/C a-k6/kj'pahtawan,' indi'win uhs~mehsAn mih/Cd'ndh. h&'wv, iniwi'n-pih misi'k mayii'tsiAt, 8ikAs- ni'w ihpih ini'win misik as ht'ahah inih niptj'hseh. 'h&W, nehsj'2, y6'? /Ceh kinah a'p as a-sJ'8ehk~hsine'yan. ini? ni'w kCinah4 a'p aw-ist~'ta yen; kCd~tsi'h pis8-t&'tua2, ini'2-pih a-m~skami'yen as a-tsi'2napuma'tua'? a/Ci'kuh /CehtS-i'Anit6'WA/C. h&'w, kisnd'watua2, "hA'V, hA'V, A'V, A'V), A,'y!"1 kCinaw-it&'n, "nipa'yAna'WAkC /Ce~'matinaWAkC!" /Cinaw-~t&'n. hd'w, ini? as a-/C6/-' yen.' ha'w,, misi'/C si/CA'8 niw ihpi'h, ini'win rnisi'/C nikut as a?na'tsin,uhs.~'MehAn. kayi~s-tu'ahah inih mehCu,'Arn, ka,'W, 'hit', nehsj'2, y6'? 7ceh /Cina'h ap a-sad'seh/Cj'hsine'yan. pi'AtUa? a/Ci'k/Cuh /Cehtsi'Anit6'WAl, kCe~tsi'h VInA's pi8-t&'tua2, ini2-pi'h kina'h ap a-Miis/ami'yen s a-tsi'naPu,matua? a/Ci'/cuh /CehtsyA'nit6'WA/C. "ha'w, ha'w, ha'w. ha'w, ha'w! nipd'yAnaWAkC /CWmatinawAk!" /Cina'w-iaitn s a-kC6/C'yen,' ina'win misi'kC ani'nuh uhs'mehs~n. h&j'w, iniwi'n-pih mis8i'k mna yd'iAt; ini's /Ce~tsi'h niw misi sa~ye'h as J'wi/C, iniwi'n misi'/C as tu'ahah. ini'win misi'kC nikCu't as a'?na'tsin ani 'nuh, uhs~'MehsAn. 'hd'w, nehsj'2, y6'? keh kina'h ap a-sa'seh~thsine'yan. /Cahpi'h ke~tsi'h pis-fti'tua2, ini2-pih kina'h ap a-miis/Cami'yen s a-tsi'2napumatua? a/Ci'/Cuh /CehtsiAnit6'WA/C,' ina'win misi'k ani'nuh uhs~'mehs~n. 'nahd'w, nina'h teh i'h-ini'8 niw dhkupi'kah ini'? nina'h sa-sdsehkj 'hs3ine' yan,' ina'win uhsj'meh8An. hMAta2, rn&'wa niw hsjpata/Cd'wVAI.in uhs'rnehs~n mihCd,'ndh; kini' w-wan&' nAn ts~'pata/Cd'WA/Cin, m&'wa niw. h&'ta2., int'win keh niw s ssehkCihsih/Cua2 mihk/#!niih/C'hs A/C. h&'wv, pd'hpiskahd'win saye,'h way&'pah mi'p, nim&'2, usa'matin pdmdtesi'tua2, /Caki'h/Cih is~'h-MAniit6wA/ ma'wa ni'w ini'w'in as pyA'tu~a2. 6A. usa-mi'nin pimii'tesit, pehni'8kA/ kaCayci~ki'hCittua2. hA/,ta9, mihkCa'ndh wi'nah ap /Cayis-sasd'/Ct, nan&'h-pA/Ca's! 'wd'htsita ldi'2tin yd'pits -sind'wita'win, tsiw-ahpi'ts-sasa'kCi-it mihh'W, 'h5', ini'? saye,'h, ini'? sa'?ye'h, ini? sa~ye'h, ini'? s8a?yd~h, pyA'/Cun,. pyA'/Cun, p yA'/Cun, pehni'h8A/C /ayi'h/i?ta'yd/C!' nim&'?, apdihn'hSA/C nnd'h-pa/Ca'ts aWiWA'/Cin mejh/Cawv'tesitua?; I The winning whoop is properly?a'y,?a'y,?a'y,?a'y,?a'y. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 285 Then they went off to the place where the race was to be. At a place halfway across that lake he made a hole in the ice. "Now, little brother, this is where you will be lying. When the runners are just a little ways off over here, and you have caught sight of them, then you will set up a loud whoop: 'Hey, I'm beating them, I'm ahead, I'm ahead, I'm beating the runners, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!' you will say. And then you will run and dive back into the water," said Turtle to his younger brother. Then he went from there and a little ways off again made a hole in the ice. "Well, little brother, this is where you are to lie. You will do the same thing: when they get near, you will come up from under the water and keep an eye on the runners. When you have them in sight you will say, 'Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, I am beating our friends,' you will say, and then dive under." A little ways off he placed another of his younger brothers. When he had made a hole in the ice, "There now, little brother, this is where you too are to lie. When the runners come and are right close by here, then you will come up from the water and watch them. 'Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho! I am beating the boys,' you will say, and dive," said he to this other brother. Then he went off again and right near, this time, made another hole in the ice and there posted another of his brothers. "Now, brother, this is where you will be lying. When they get near, you will bob up and look at the runners," he said to this brother also. "And I, right here at the edge of the lake, that is where I shall be lying," he said to his brother. All these brothers of Turtle wore feathers in their head-gear; an eagle's tail-feathers they wore on their heads, all of them. So then the Little Turtles lay in their several places. When next morning came, lo, there was a great number of beings; all the kinds of animals there are, all of them came. Very many were the beings, the lads who were swift in the race. Turtle, too, had put on his fine clothes; splendidly, in truth, he rang with ornaments as he moved, to such an extent had Turtle decked himself out to go and be married. Then, "Ho, now is the time, now is the time, now is the ti-ime! Come ye, come ye, come ye, youths who are fleet in the race!" Oh, splendid were the youths; a fine appearance did they make: 286 286Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ta'9, una'SiWA'lkin pdhni'hSAlk. hoTA, 1ci~s~'hseh wd'htsita' misik- niku't lki-minu 'Apume 'win pdhni 'hSAn. IhA ndi'2s ih-i'nuh kAts3 pay&'siwiew s a-w~'kiMAk!' kiw-ind'nimewin n&'2s3 ni'kut. 'hdiw', ni '2 8a~ye'h, ini'2 8aydi h, akai'miah, akJ'miah irnis, ini'2 dwih-uhts~pahtawd'k!inu,'h tAk a-pa yd'8iwa't a-pi8-td-'pip~nd'w ~'h-anum nit&'nan; ini'2 tdih niw s aw-awdin&'tsin, apehni'hSAk! ini'9 ds-w~'htamuna'kuk aw-ist~'tayd'k!' ind'win inuh u~c~m~iw ani'nuh pdhni'hSAn. ha'w, h. ta, pahni'hSAk, 'hd'w, nna-ktiwpy?'ie! ninh tamu,'lin, ta'?, j/ihni'h8Ak,. hdi'ta2, 5ndi'8iwin inuh kiW~hseh. pahpislcahe'win sa~ye'h kdi'taw-mdtqyA'tua2, h&'w, ini'win d'ts mihldi'ndih: 'kAni', kAni, IkAni, kAni, kAni, kAni, k,-Ani, kAni'uw,1 pehni'h8A'k! kitdi'wats-we~'tamunine'mnUAw nina'h ap kdi'taw-iqZ'?ta yen. ta'?, nipi'hih nina'h nik&'taw-wdi'pjm; ini'? nina'h ap as kihki~ta'yen. kAn wi'yAk pas nipfi'yani'kunan nipi'hih ninah a'p. y5'? tdh niw kd-'tawv-y5'h-k6kW'yen,' is~w'i'win mihkd'niih. ~6, hdiv, hdw, hdw, h&'w!' ta'?, nds ni'w inih kANdW-is~'2ta yen Ihj'ta?, pdi'hpisiw wdpa'wanetUWA'kin kehtsi'Anit5'WA/k. hU'y, payiAtdi'tu~a2 imi's ak-d'miah, h&'w, ini'win tiih sehkikedpuwn'tua2 paihni'hSALC nimaA'?, s&'matin, md'wa niw isj'kiWAk spdi'miah ayi-'tua?: kind'WAk, apd~'s-kin~'WAk, pak&'htsike'WAk, pipO6'ni~ne'WAk, kitii'kikun4'wAk; mii'wa niw kAn-kawa'h isZ'kiwAk; kdkd'kiWAk, kakake'hSAlk, sa~nawanani'WAk: ma'wa ni'w ka~yiiki'hlki~tA'tua2 uhp~'2tawAk; ndPnd'tskah; md'wa niw wvj'skin65'hSAk kaydiki'hki~tA'tua2. lui', misi'IC MAhwd'WAk, apd'hsusuk-, ama'skusulk, atti'hkuk; m&'wa ni'w; awa'hSAk winu'a2 ap tahni'wiin tsiw-d'witua2; m&'wa niw; pised'hkiWAk, MAskutti'ah-pisad'hkiwAk-, pdi'sikIkAsi'WAk;, m&'wva niw kaydki'hki~tA'tuaa9 apaihni'hAk. h&'ta2, iniwii'n kek sa~ye'h: 'hdAw, ini'? 3a~ye'h, ini'? 3a~ue'h, ini'? sa~ydi'h! wadpe'WAkin; nim&a2, wa'htsita kdi'2tin kiikit6wdi'win inih mehlcu'AM. hWY, ta'2, wina'uw a'wiwin i1nih nip~'hseh; ndskei'n niwv tdpipumina'kwAtin ihpih tsiw-aJkiin~wik inih nipij'hseh. heA ta?, ay6 wi'nah mihldi'ndh ini'win ni, ta'2, s sdsehkR'hih edhkupi'kah. mdi'nawats Icjs-tawki'nAMin ini's as y65'h-ts~2napumii' - tsin ani'nuh kehtsyA'nit6'wAn m.ihkdi'ndh. ha'w, pdhpiskahdi'win sa?ye'h aydi'pelhtawalkam iS-piAtd'tua?, nimd'?, naniih-pakdi'tsipi~sOwA'kifl kehts3i'Anit65'wAk. nike~ed's aya'wik, ini'win sa?ye'h nikut inuh mihkdt'nihk6'hseh as Mfl'8kamit imis mindi'? as Jt'wik, ina'kah dinawi'mitua? aki'kuh lkehtsi'Anit6'wkk. h&'\ utiAh imis dnii'pit mihkdndhlc6'kseh, us.?'matin! jwdi'hin mihk4''ndhk5'hseh. 1 Not exaggerated; kAni-kAn~i-lkAni-kAni'w! is a commnon way of saying "Hold on there, just a moment!" 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 287 beautiful were the youths. Truly, the girl looked with admiration now on this youth, now on that. "Oh, I wish this one would win the race, so that I could marry him," she would think of this one or that. "Now is the time, now is the time! Over there on the other shore, that is where you will go and start. He who outdistances the others and comes and takes hold of my daughter here, he shall take her with him, young men! These are my instructions to you," said the chief to the lads. "I shall try to win!" thought each youth; for the girl was beautiful. When the time came for them to start, then Turtle said, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, boys; before we start I want to tell you how I am going to do. I want to run under water; that is where I am a swift racer. No one can outdistance me in the water; that is my forte. I want to dive in right from here," said Turtle to them all. "All right, all right, allright; whatever you want to do, go ahead," Turtle was told. So accordingly the racers began to march over, one after the other. When they got over to the other side, the lads lined up there. Lo, they were beyond number, all the creatures that dwell in the air: eagles, blue eagles, pigeon-hawks, winter-hawks, spotted eagles, all the different kinds: ravens, little ravens, split-tailed eagles, all the birds that are fleet in the race; the humming-bird, and all the songbirds that are swift. And also wolves, deer, elks, caribou, all of them; bears, too, of all kinds that there are; cattle, buffaloes, horses, all the lads that were swift runners. And now came the time: "All right, go ahead, go ahead, go ahead!" They were off! Truly, that ice resounded. It was a long distance across that lake; one could barely see where the other shore was. As for Turtle, however, he merely lay there by the bank; he had scratched open a small hole from which to watch the racers, had Turtle. In due time they got halfway across; oh, splendidly did the racers speed along! Then, at one time, up bobbed that one Little Turtle, in front there, in the direction the runners were heading. Back of him looked Little Turtle. It was incredible! "Hey, hey, hey, hey, I'm beating all the racers!" said Little Turtle. 288 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n ni misi'k as k~ki'pahtuk. VhA y, pd'hpeni'siwVAk! kip&'yanikunaw mihki'n~th!' iwa'kin akum apaihni'hS A k. wdi'htsita'w iniwi'n-pih kayd'2ts-wdpi'tua2. hVy, sikca's, niw ihpih, sa~ye'h misi'k payiAta'tua2, ani'win keh ni'w misilk mind'? iis mayft'skcamit mihkdi'ndh. 'kh'y, nipa'yanaWA'k, nipa'yanaWA'k, nipa'yanawA'k!' jwd'hin mihkdi'ndh. k5R~'pahtuk mihkdnahlk6'hseh, 'hVy, lkipd'yanilcunaw, kip&'yanikunaw mihkd'ndh! ki'hki'2talku'n!' it6wAkin ~'h-akum apdhni'hsAk. nimaA2, hii'nu keh nandi'h-pAkii'tipiso-wA'kin, ha-'w, kAniwi'n keh ni'w misik niku't mind'? inis pd'pik ini-mut'skAmit mihkd'ndh. IhjA y, kipd'yani'kunaw, kipei'yani'kunaw!' ilwd'kin. ta'?, mihkdi'ndh wvi'nah misi'k k~kj'pahtawin. ta"?, iniwi'n tiih winah na'p as s&'sehk~hsih. ta'?, wj'matan mihkdindhk5'hSAn, ani'nuh ini's kayjs-a~na'tsin, ani'WAn; alci'wa/cm teh winah aya'witua2. kAn wi'nah /c#!'2tin uwapinu,'waWAn mihkdindih/c'h8A/c. h5Ata2, ~'h-akcu tdih, 'kcd'2tin niw nipa-'yani'/cunaw!' indinihtA'muk apdhni'hsA/c. ha'w, iniwi'n sa~ya'h as tdpii'pami'htua2 #~'h-akcum Wa'piwAk; usdimatin MAMa'tsi~ta'wA/c as wa'pitua2. IuA, /cAniwi'n /ceh ni'w umAs kcd~tsi'h ~pis-mi's/camit mihkd'ndh. hMA, uti'h imi'nakah as and'pit: WhA y, nijxt'yanawA/c, nipa'yanawA/c, nipa'yanawAkc /c'matinaWAkc!' iwtd'hin mihkcd'ndh s kc6Ic-pahtu/c misi'/c. VhA y, /cipdi'yani/cunaw, /cipii'yani/cunaw, /cipii'yani/cunaw!' jw' kin ta'? a/ci'kuh apdihni'hsAk, /cehtsi'AsiWeWA/c ayei'witua2. hf'llw, mih/cd'niih iniwin sa~ydi'h s nj'pvwtj'pahtu/c, mita'muh8Anb,s pit&'2nama'pinit. wd'htsita kdi'2tin ini'win as kc4'2ts-wd'pRt as kuhpe~'pahtu/c as n&'tinetuana'tsin ani'nuh Miti'MUhSAn. hA ta2, akum, inu,'h tdh mj'2sinikdi'hkceh, int' win tdh &'nu pi' yasi'wdt. VhA y, ayd/cuAmisi'nun, aydkuAMisi 'nun, /cip&' yani '/1' ind'win ta? mj'2sinikcef'hkeh. niMaA2, ta"?, mih/c&'nah sa/ca'nah niwi'n ni-tii'pip~)ndi'win ani'nuh Mitd'rnUh8An. dihtayji'h, mtj'2sinikdi'hkeh, sa~yd"h mihk/d'ndh as k~td-inm-t'piundt~i, ii'wn tpd'l- i"w tapipuna'WA/cin ani' - nuh /cis~'hAn. haA mihkdi'ndh, 'pa~ctini'n!' isjwd'win, nine'? nd'"?AM tayd'he',? h&'ni2 's3i/ce'h, mih/ce'nudh? nine"? nd'?tAM taya'pinAk!' jwfi'hin wi'nah ap m~"?sini/cd'h/cek. /cand'mit. I'Unusual quotative for min? tepa'h; a natural slip. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 289 Then he ran and dived in again. "Hey, it's all up! Turtle is leaving us way behind," said the lads. Then they ran very hard. Then again, when they had got a ways farther, there again was Turtle bobbing up in front there! "Hey, I'm beating them, I'm beating them, I'm beating them!" said Turtle. Little Turtle made a running dive. "Hey, Turtle is leaving us behind; run hard!" said the lads to one another. Alas, although they sped splendidly along, yet, sure enough, there again was Turtle bobbing up, ahead there. "Hey, he's beating us, he's beating us!" they said. There! Turtle dove in again, on the run. But as for him, he was just lying there; for his brothers, the Little Turtles, whom he had posted there, it was only they; and even the Little Turtles did not do any running. "He is really leaving us way behind," thought the youths. And now the spectators were in sight, a great crowd of people looking on. Why, suddenly, right up close there, Turtle came up from the water! He looked back of him: "Hey, I'm beating them, I'm beating them, I'm beating our friends!" said Turtle, diving in again with a run. "Hey, he's beating us, he's beating us, he's beating us!" said the lads who were running in the race. Now was the time when Turtle jumped up and ran to where the woman sat facing this way. Truly he ran fast, up from the water; he went for that woman. As for those others, Big-Hawk, he was in the lead. "Hey, look out! He's beating you!" Big-Hawk was told. For, oh, Turtle had now almost reached the woman with his hand! Alas, Big-Hawk, - just as Turtle was taking hold of her, then exactly at the same time they both took hold of the girl. "Let go of her!" said Turtle for all to hear; "I reached her first." "Why, what's the matter, Turtle? I reached her first!" said Big-Hawk in turn. Now, indeed, Turtle panted hard, being all out of breath. 19 290 '290Publication~s, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'he' he, he' he, he' he, he' he!' y6'win dni'tah mihkd'neih. 'he' he, he' he, he' he, pah yah nah wait kih k&It kek!' iw&'hin mihld'ndh. W'h, w~' ats pakitini'n, mihkend'h!' iw&'hin ta2 m~'?8inikdi'hkeh. di'ta2, mihldt'ndh wina'h iniwi'n niw as mitsimuna'tsin. kaw~i'n ukes-nd'hnenan; &nauw~'htawin s kAtd'w-ki'kitit kd'2ts3-pahkina'mit. na'SAp ktih niw as is3~'?W~, ta'2, iniwi'n winah niw d'hkupi'kah s3 kjes-8d'8ehkj'hs8ih mihkdi'niih. hd'ta2, nik~tdi's iniwi'n sa~ye'h as neh~k6'it mih-kd'niih. aAta2 kawi'n up&'kitenei'nan kd'hkeh. 'h&'w, kdi'hke'h, dy&'pehta'w kina-manu5'naw ayu,'m mitd'muh!' imni'win mihlc4'ndh. 'wd'htsita kdi'2tin kikii'taw-kd-'2ts-un&'mim!' in4'win mihkd'ndh. iniwi 'n-pih na'tumA'tsin uhsj',meh8An. hiA ta2, pi 'wAnin. Icina-pehk6'ndn; ini2 a's a'2telc, mitd'muh as Ici-ki'8kisuak. ini'2 a'pi'tawAn,` ind'win uhsj'mehsAn. hd"'ta?, iniwvi'n-pih wi'nah mehsa'wilc nay&'tik inih a0s~'kan. payi'Atdt w~'kwa2, pZ'htsiku~n&'h pind'namin s pehk5'nah; nimdA2, ni's teht a~te'wAnin mamdi'h-asika'nan! h&'w, nikut keh ni'wv min wdtii'hpinah s aw&'tuwatsin mihkdin&'hku~n. payi'Atdt, 'nah&'wv, umd'?!'indi'win. h&d, md'ts3-a?,si'kan! hdIuimihkdi'ndh, 'jh-y5' winah, nehsZ'2, MAna'tow nilki-ki'8kiswAw; ini'h mitd'rnuh as ki-ki'slci8U'AIC kiwl-awa'yan, mni' weh4'h ei'ninan as aw-pi 'tawAn,,' ind'win uhe'mehs~n. hMAta, iniwi'n-pih mayei'tiAt misi'k, kayd/nit as na'tik. payi'Atat, inih p~'htsikundh ntaw&'pahtah, md'ts3-a'?2sikan iniwi'n misi'k as nd/mik. %d, y52 kdh!' ind'nihtA'min mehsa'wik, awa'tuvwatsin uOnd'hAn. 'h'n? kinah, y6't?' inii'win ni'minamuwatsgin. 6"1, mitsi' niw) mehk5'wi win inih ma'ts-a?,sj'kan; mj'ne~nan mini'w dyaki'2tawa'nin mitsi' niw, mitdi'muh8An tsi-es-ki'skisu,'atsin! hM~AN?, mi-td'pinamin inih mdts-uftd'2sikan. 'y56"2 aydi'wik mitd'muh as ki-ki'skisuak!' h5,'ta?, as mitsi'munatsin aninuh mitd'muhsAn, ta'2, ldi'hleh wi'nah ap i'nih nikcut und'h ini'win as mitsmuna'tsin. 'lui'w, kd'hke'h, siiwi'kinin! ayd'pehtaw nilki'ta-po/2silcahiw ghayu 'm kimd'tim5'hs9emi'naw; aya'pehtaw lkina-mAMOd'naw; lki'nah ap ay&'pehtaw kinaw-awx'ndw, kes-pd'?sika'hak,' indi'win kd'hkehan. hci'ta2, iniwi'n teh sa~yeh s kAtd'w-p&'2sikahei'tin mihlkd'nah. 'heA y, a-nand'wihew, a-nanii'wihew, a-nand'wihew mitd'MUh8An! pake'inin, pahetinin, pahetini'n!' mnd/win ldi'hlkeh. 1 Presumably: nipa'yanaWAk, kii'hkeh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 291 "He-he, he-he, he-he," was the sound Turtle made, "he-he, he-he, I bea' you, Bi' Haw'!" said Turtle. "Say, let go of her, right off!" said Big-Hawk. But Turtle held her fast; he could not get his breath; he was unable to speak, so winded was he. He did this only in pretense, for of course he had only been lying there by the water's edge, had Turtle. Now, finally Turtle got angry. "Well, Hawk, let her go, Hawk, let her go, I tell you!" Hawk did not let go of her. "Well, Hawk, we shall each take half of this woman," said Turtle to him; "Truly, you are bound to have it your way," said Turtle to him. Then he called his younger brother. The latter came. "Now, brother, go get my knife. In our house, you will untie my medicine-bundle; that's where it is, the one with which I cut up women. Bring it here," he said to his brother. So then Mehsawik went to fetch the knife. When he got to their house, he took down the medicine-pack and opened it: why, there were two big knives! So he picked up one and took it to Turtle. When he got there, "Here it is!" he said to him. Oh, it was a big knife! But Turtle: "Why, with this, brother, I cut up game-animals; the one I use when I cut up women, that's the one I told you to bring!" he said to his brother. Off he went again to fetch the other one. When he arrived and looked at the medicine-bundle, he saw the other big knife there. "This must be it," thought Mehsawik, and took it to his brother. "Is this the one you want?" he asked him, holding it up for him to see. Dear me, still bloody was that big knife, and hairs were sticking to it still, here and there, from when he had presumably cut up some women. He reached for that big knife of his and took it into his hand. "This is the one I cut up women with." He was holding the woman fast, and so was Hawk holding her fast by one hand. "Very well, Hawk, pull her; half and half I'll split her, this wife of ours; half and half alike we shall take her; you shall take your half away with you, as soon as I have cut her in two," he said to Hawk. And now Turtle was about to cut her in two. "Oh, he will kill her, what a shame! He will kill the poor woman! Let go of her; do let go of her!" they said to Hawk. 19' 292 292Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hJ'ta2, mihkd'niih, mihldi'ndh, ta2 UMA's as a-wd'pinah niw inii'2 -tewin inih mdi'ts-ut&'2sikan. nilk6ti's lcdh kci'hkeh pimi'm-pakgts3 -wa'pinewin ani'nuh ki~sj'hsAn. hd'a?, mihkdi'nah iniwi'n Icdh niw nand'h-pAlcd'ts as awdnd'tsin ani'nuh ki?.sj'hsAn. ta'?, payd-si'wew. hd'2 tdh aw-e~td'h inuh uk6'miidw misilk inuh wig'yAwgIkeh.? ta'? misi'k tdh inuh ki~s~'hseh? ta'2, payd'siwew inuh mihkii'niih. tca'2, hM'nu~w s~hkane'win inuh ki~sj'hseh ani'nuh mihldina'hkun, ta'2 yi'hpits teh niw 1k6'2newin. k5'?ne'WAlkin kdh niw m&t'waw paimatesi'tua2; ta'2, nd~ni~sd'nes3iw mihkdi'nih. ini'? kdih nik6'tds3 lay&s-is~'kit as 1k~s-pima'tesit ahlca'nuh. mni'? md' wau'. 91. TURTLE ON THE WAR-PATH (nehtsi'wihtulk) inuh mihka'nd wd'htsita'w ind'niw Ct'wiw; iCAn kdi'lkh u~k6'?tanan d&-y6's ahki'hih as pimii'tesit ahlca'nuh, as mdk-mamii'tsi?tawit. kis-miimgIci'hkdw. nehe'2taw as mikii'hkit m-Amd-'tsi~taWAn. mei'wa niw isj'kiw~n kis-ang'hdwi M~-y5's ahki'hih Wj't8-MAnato'wAn; mAmd' - ts8i?tawan miniw 1c&-ang'hdw. kilAta?,. mihkti'mndh k41h wdw~'/iwin ahlka'nuh, Mh-y6's8wi'nah ap as kis-pimd'tesit; wdihtsita' niw ind'niw kjs-d'wiwin s lki's-ma-ma 'ta'?, nikc~td's tdh ayd'wik, 'haz'w, -ni'?s tsiyd'w kAts nitii'wihmilcJ'hlkim,' ind'nihtA'min mihki'rdih; 'nahdi'w, pi.'nah IkAts nita.'wihmilka'hkim. ma'waw MAnato'wAk nina-w~'htam~wa'wAk s IcAtd'wawj' h-mika'hki yen,' iwd'hin mihldi'ndh; 'MAm(i'ts,&'tA'wAk nikc&'tawjh-nawgndhd'wAkc as undinilca'nitva?,' jwa'hin mihlcd',nih, kil'ituta'sit w,,C'kih. ha,'w, wayd'pah s6'h ni pa'ts niuw aku'Atsih isi'win, as awejh-sgi'skihnih~lk upj'htsiku'ndih; upd'piku'AhSAn a?tewA'nin. hd'w, iniu'i'n tdh kayd'kit~vd'htah. hd'wi, kays-kdi'kit~wd'htah, 'nah&'w, awdi'ni? a-witsi'WAlC 5 lAtft'wnAWa'tupA'ni yen?' jwd'hin mihkd'niih. nim&"l?, pd'pilk pits-uhts'muwin kdk1&'kiw: 'nahd'w, nind'? awits yA'nAn, mihlke'niih; ts3imi'kAt, "awd'ni2 a-witsi'wAkc 5 a-nawii'tu,pAne' yen?" tsiw-V'yan,' ind'win ka-ka'Iiui. 'nahd'w, nawa'ts 1&ih wdpj'nun; kitd'wats-tse'?napu,'min fta s6'h aw-isYj?ta yen kahpi'h mcihlk'?tamah rniini'Ikdn,' imi'win lckdk'kiWAn. nim&'?, kdkd'kiw iniwi'n niw wdh-8pj'?tAt, wd'htsita kci'?tswa'pit; pahpisi' ta? as ini'm-tahtd'pasit as is~'lkihtsi'kdit, ume'win ini'm-isgis-piipi'mnislci'?tAt. h&', yah-pi'win. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 293 But Turtle, Turtle was holding up that big knife of his, ready to swing it at any moment. At last Hawk flung the girl loose. So then Turtle gloriously took the girl away with him. Well, he had won the race, hadn't he? What could the chief say, or the old woman? Or, for that matter, the girl? Turtle had won the race. Although the girl disliked Turtle, yet she was very much afraid of him. In fact, all living creatures feared him, for Turtle was a dangerous man. So that is how he fared once of old, when he lived in human form. That is all. 91. TURTLE ON THE WAR-PATH. (Nehtsiwihtuk) That Turtle was a brave man; nothing did he fear when he dwelt here on earth of old, in human form. He was always fighting. He was great at fighting with people. He defeated every species of his fellow-animals here on earth, and man also he defeated.1 Now, Turtle dwelt somewhere in the olden time, when he too lived here as a man, and a brave man Turtle was when he lived in human form. Then, once upon a time, "Well, suppose I go fight!" thought Turtle; "Yes, I think I'll go and fight. I shall tell all the animals that I'm going off to war," said Turtle; 'I'll go attack the human people in their village," said Turtle, talking to himself in his house. So the next morning, with all due rite Turtle went out of doors and unrolled his medicine-bundle. In it lay his flutes. Then he blew, them. When he had sounded them, "Ho, who will go with me on the war-path?" asked Turtle. Lo, right away Crow called out to him: "Why, I will go with you, Turtle. It seems you have been saying, 'Who will go with me on the war-path ' " said Crow to him. "Very well, but first let me see you go fast; I want to take a look at you, to see just what you will do when we attack a village from ambush," he said to Crow. Oh, but Crow flew straight up from there; truly he went with great speed, pretending to dodge here and there and twisting himself into all shapes. Then he came back. 1 This serious estimate of Turtle, due probably to his position as one of the chief totem animals, is inconsistent with the folk-tales about him. 294 Publications, American Eth~nological Society Vol. XII 'ha'ni'? kirnd'wimit, mihkce'nd~h?' ind'win kdika'kiw mihkdrnd'hkycun. V'h?, apisp4'ts3, kalcu'Ikiw; kiktd'2ts-MAtdi'puMind'kisim s wdip~' yen. haTA wdi'hsitA' niw so'h ni pa"tS PA5 kipdi'mnwkem kihpdi'niah; kinane~nikd'm! p6'n kinah isj'Anun; nani-8i'nesi nina'? inuh MAM&'tsi2 -tan',' indi'win mihkd'nah. 5hwd'h, k&Wi'kiw kute'2nas ini'win 5 awjh-d'yapit. hoiw, 8ayeh misik k&'kit~wi'htamin upd'pikwAn; mis~'wdi niw tdpiw.~i'win Mh-y5'm kj'sik dnikit'hkwah inih upa'pi~kwAn mihkdi'ndh. hJd'w, kayd'kit~wdt'h-tah, 'awd'ni2 a-witsi'wAk as kAtd'w-nawa'tu,pAfliyen?' iwJ'hin. 'had'w, milhke'ndh, wd'htsita kd'2tin nitdlcdw&'tan as 1k-kd'w-mihd'hkiyen,' iwd'hin kin~'w. 'ha'w, nawei'ts keh u'apj'nun, tP? 8&'h aw-in&'pumind,'kesi' yen kahpi'h mfIhkii'2tamah mini'kdn,.' ina'win mihkei'na-h. I&&ta2, kin~'w iniwi'n niw wdh-spej'2tAt as ini'm-taktd'pasit. kAS ni'w ihpih, ini'win d'wih-y35'h-wAsk0' as p&'At. 'ha'ni'? kini'wimit, mihlke'mih? y6'? 1k44 aw-isj'2ta yen kahpi'h miihkci'2tamah mini'kdn,' irnd'win kinj'w. 'he "h hdiA, kinj'w, apispdi't8! PA5 kind'2nikem. qjA\ s6'h ni pd'ts niw kihp&'niah PAS kipd'mukem. ini? ni'w., apispi'ts;- kinak wi'nah pon i~iAnun; kina-ne'2nikdi"m!' ind'win mihkdi'nidh. naha'w, sa~ye'h misi'k kadkituwdi'htamin updi'kikwAn. &~a, iniwi'n lceh niw &'hpin niw kiw-i'tdh: 'hi'w, awdi'ni2 awitsi'wAk s lcAt4'w-naw&'tupA'ni yen?' ~wd'hin milhkai'nih. MaA2, sa?ye'h misi'lk pits-k&'kituwd'win 8pd'miah; pi8-und'piwin pakd'htsikew. 'hd'w, mihlce'niih, lkinaw-wi'tsyAn s kAtdi'w-nawdi't~pA'ni yen. w&'htsita'w nit~idkwa'tdin s kAtdi'w-M,-1di'hki yen,' iwdi'Iin pAka'htsikew. 'ha'wl, nawd'ts kutsi~'ninun, tdi2 s6'h aw-isj' 2ta yen lkahpi'h kina-i'skamah mini'kdin.' hdi~ta2, pak&'htsikew iniwi'n niw wdih-spi~'2tW, ki'2ts-wd'p~t. w'i'hwAskj't. 'hd'w, y6'? kdh aw-isW 2a yen kahpi'h miihkd'2tarnah.' 'j'h, pakahtsike'w, kina-ne~nikd"m! p6'n isyA'nun; wdihtsitct' niw kihpdi'niah PA5 kipd'mukem!' ind'win paka'htsikewAn. hdiAta2?, pAk&'htsikew kute'2nas.ini'win s awjh-di'yapit. h&'w, Sa~ye'1h misi'k kd'kit~wdi'htamin updf'pikwAn mihkd'neih. 'awd'ni2 a-wits~'wAk s kAtd'w-nawdtupA'ni yen?' nimd'2, pahpisi' misi'k si kaki~wdi'win ispd'miak; pi'ts-und'piwin md't8-sa-'?nawAnani'w. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 295 "Well, how was it? Did you see me, Turtle?" Crow asked Turtle. "Oh dear, it won't do at all, Crow! Very awkward is your look as you go fast. Why, you would surely and with ease be shot in your chest; you will get killed; don't you go; redoubtable, I tell you, are the humans," said Turtle to him. Poor Crow went and sat down somewhere. Then again he sounded his flute. The entire length and width of this sky of ours rang with the sound of Turtle's flute. When he had blown it, "Who will go with me on the war-path?" he said. Lo, up above there came a loud noise, so fast flew Eagle. He came and settled there. "Why, Turtle, I am truly longing for a fight," said Eagle. "Very well, but first speed a little, to see what sort of figure you really will cut when we attack a village by surprise," said Turtle to him. So then up went Eagle and dodged about for a ways and then turned and came back. "Well, did you see me, Turtle? That is the way I shall do when we attack a village by surprise," Eagle said to him. "Dear me, Eagle, that won't do at all; you would get killed. Why, one could deliberately take aim and shoot you in your chest. No, indeed it won't do at all; don't you go; you will get killed!" said Turtle to him. Then again he sounded his flute. He still kept saying the same thing: "Ho, who will go with me on the war-path?" said Turtle. Lo, now again came a loud noise up above, and Pigeon-Hawk came and settled. "Well, Turtle, I will go with you on the war-path. Really, I am longing for a fight," said Pigeon-Hawk. "Well, first make a trial flight, to see just what you will do when we attack a village." So then Pigeon-Hawk flew up from there and went at a great speed; he truly dodged and ducked as he went along; after he had gone some distance, he turned and came back. "There, that is the way I shall do when we attack from ambush." "Dear me, Pigeon-Hawk, you will get killed! Don't go; you would surely get shot in your chest," he said to Pigeon-Hawk. Pigeon-Hawk went and sat someplace there. Then again Turtle blew on his flute. "Who will go with me on the war-path?" Lo, in an instant, again, the air resounded; Big Split-Tailed Eagle came and settled. 296 296 Publications American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'h&'w, mihlce'niih, kina-wi'tsyAn. we'htsita'wv nitIdk1-wd'tdns 5~dw mika'hki yen,' iwd'hin sd'2nawa'naniw. 'ha'w, naw&'ts keh wapZ'nun; kitii'wats-tst~'2napu,'min t&2 s5'ht aw-isj'2ta yen lcahpi'h mfthkd'?tamah mini'kiin.' haAta2, sii~nawanani'w iniwi'n ni Wdi'h-Sp~'2tAt as i'nim-tahtd'pasit. sikAs ni'w ihpih, ini'win d'wih-y,6h-wAskj't. 'ha'w, y6'2 Idih aw-is~' ta yen, mihke'ndh.' 'Aih, ap&'hpenis3iWA'k,. sa~nawanani'w! ha', PAs kind'2nikern. Iu'ni2, s6'h ni pei'ts niw pAs kipdi'mukem kihpdi'niah. inih n1i'w a'nawe 'nihtah; p6'n is3yA'nun,' indi'win mihlki'ndh. h~hw&'. sd'2nawananiw kutd'2nas3 awjh-&'yapi'win. h&w, sa~ye'h misik kaI'kituwd'htamin upd'pikw n mihldi'nih. 'awdt'ni2 a-witsi 'WAlk kAtd'w-nawa'tUPA'niyen?' hy&Ata2, kAniwi'n lceh ni'w misik kay&'kit~wak y~m ispd'miah, tsiw-ahpi'htsipisit; pits-und'piwin pip6'ne~new. 'hd'w, mihke'nah, kinaw-wi'tSyAn. how,. wii'htsita'w nitikawJ'tdn s kAtd'w-mikd'hkiyen', Jwd'hin wvina'h ap pep6'ne~new. 'h&'w, naw&'ts keh wdp~'nun, ta2 s6'h aw-is~'2ta yen kahpi'h miihkdi'2tamah mini'kdn,' ind'win misi'k mihkii'n~h. h/dAta? iniwi'n nit wd-p'Wpp'enw dsw'~ as 'ha'w, y6'? kdh, mihke'nah, aw-ina'pumina'kesi'yen lkahpi'h mdbkkd'2tamah mini'kdn.' 'he'h, p~ne~ndi'w, pon isi'Axnun; kina-ne~nika'm! wdhtsitA' niw s65'h ni p'i'ts pA5 kipdi'mukem kihp&'niah.1' inii'win mihkd'niih. d(ta?, kutd'2nas aw~'h-d'yapi'win pep6'ne~new. sa~ye'h mis8i'k k&'kit~wdi'htamin upd'pikWAn. 'awa'ni2 a-witsi'WAkc a-nawa'tUpAni yen?' h&d umanak dtnd'pitua2 as ni'k ina'kah wa'htsita kdt'2tin kay&s titd'2tipe'rnameh isina'kwAtin &'nahkWAt. m pa2 ppik JYiS-piAta' MAkA'tin ini's as tsiw-i'tua2. WI, n6'we~neh, wd'htsita ldi'2tin wdiwiyA'kipita'win n6'we~nin. hj'y, mihkdi'nih Watsi'Anemi'nihtsikat 5 kAtaw-s9pa'2sit, ini'win-pih tsiyd'w mdtipi'pahtuk. i'hlkupikah ini'win utsi'peh as pimd'hutik pimd'hkihneh; ini'win taya"'piput~k mihkc4'ndh s sakd~'hki~tAt. ta'2, kAta'w-spct'2siwi'n, tsiw-aIhpi'ts8 -kisi'pitek n6'we~nen. uimiiA2, mihkdi'niih ini'win kdh s tasj'h-pii'hpaka'2sit nipi'hih. wd'htsita'w siw uhpd,'skamin nipj'w, sdhsai'28upi'ht~sih nipi'hih, tsiw-ahpi't8-utsi'Anemah s kAta'W-spt'2si~t. nik~td?'s lcdh pmi'm-pf~niwd'win inih n5'wenn. tdA?, siwas pdi'pem5'hnewin indi'niw; uta.'kAS tahklc6namin. Ma', mihkdi'ndih, kayis-p~nei'nimah, sinawd'2 ni'w kuhpjtdt'tikawin. ini-pi'Atctt, 'h&'w, mihka'niih, wdi'htsita kii'2tin nitadkiwtd'tiin as kAtd'w-mikdi'hlciyen; Ikinaw-wi'tsyAn, mihk4'nah,' ~w&'hin ind'mehkiw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 297 "Hello, Turtle, I'll go with you. I'm simply spoiling for a fight," said Split-Tailed Eagle. "Yes, but first just speed a bit; I want to take a look at you, to see just how you will do when we ambush a town." Straight up flew Split-Tail, dodging hither and thither as he went; after a stretch he turned back. "There, that, you see, is the way I shall do, Turtle." "Oh dear, oh dear, Split-Tail! You would get killed; why, one could take deliberate aim and shoot you in the chest. Give up thinking about it; don't go," said Turtle to him. Poor Split-Tailed Eagle went and sat somewhere. Again Turtle sounded his flute. "Who will go with me on the war-path?" Zoom! Suddenly the air rang out again, so fast someone sped: Winter-Hawk came and alighted. "Well, Turtle, I'll go with you, I am truly longing for a fight," said Winter-Hawk, just as the rest had done. "Good, but first do some speeding; let me see just what you will do when we make a surprise attack on a town," said Turtle, again, to him. Up went Winter-Hawk and went very fast, dodging this way and that. When he had gone a certain distance, he returned. "There, Turtle, that is the way I shall look when we attack a village by surprise." "Dear me, Winter-Hawk, don't go! You will get killed. Really, one could take careful aim and shoot you in your chest," said Turtle to him. Winter-Hawk went off and sat somewhere. Then again he blew his flute. "Who will go with me on the war-path?" Why, when they looked over toward the west, there was a cloud that looked verily as if it were being rolled along! In an instant it had got there to the place where they were. A wind began to blow; truly with whirling speed came that wind. Whew, Turtle, thought it close quarters; he was going to be blown aloft; he ran down the bank. At the water's edge a root was sticking out firm in the solid ground; Turtle grabbed hold of it and clung to it; for he was almost being blown aloft, so furiously sped the wind. Poor Turtle, there he flopped in the wind, hitting the water! Truly he dashed up the water with his feet, splashing about, halfsubmerged, so sore were his straits to keep from being blown aloft. At last the wind ceased roaring. There, all at once, was a man walking about; he was holding a war-club. Turtle, when the wind had ceased, slowly crawled up the bank. When he got there, "Well, Turtle, I am truly longing to fight; I will go with you, Turtle," said the Thunderer. 298 298Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'he'h, inemehki'w, td'ni2 d'sikeh? kinah wi'nah apispdi'ts; kinane~nikdi"m! yiAh, apa'2ts3ik! sa~ye'h tsj'k ihpilh ini-tdi'yah, ini'2-pih Pas kdi'hkindi'hkua2 aki'kuh mma'tsi~tawAk. hd'ni2 kipits-ap.d'2tiwd' - kisimit? ini'2 ni'w apispd'ts ki'nah wi'nah; kA'n; p65'n isyA'nlul,' irdi'win indi'mehki'WAn mihkd'nath. haAta, ind'mehkiw kute'2nas awih-Cl'yapiwin. h&,'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'lc kayakit~wa'htah upa'pikcWAn. 'awd'ni2 a-witsi'wAk a-nawd'tUPA'niyen?' iwdi'hin mihldi'ndh,. ho'w, UMA's8 nfthsimd'hkiah dnii'pitua2, wdi'htsita kdi'2tin asi'kanan si wi'yAk mdmd'kunah pits-ind'hkawa'nin. hJt'w, pis3-pAta'tua2 mihkd5'na-hk6'hSAk, us&'matin! 'h&'w, ak6'2 ak6'2 kdih wi'nah nawd'tUPA'niWAk! ak6'2 a-witsi'wAkua2,' jw&'hin mihkdi'nah. h&A ta2, iniwi'n keh as dnawe'niht&'hkua2 uhpZ'2tawAk 5 k-AftZWkdi'2ts-mikc&'hkitua?, ind'mehki'wAk; md'waw kjwa'wAkin. ha-'w, mihkii'n~th iniwi'n sa~yeh wdpii'wane'titua2 as aw~h-mikii'hkitua2; mmd'tsi~ta'WAn naw~nahd'wAkin. hj y, ta'?, a-tahp6-'hneWA'kit ta2 aki'lkuh mihkdin~thkc'hsAk? ume'win ni na'p, as tdpii'pumind'kwah, as inim-nehlkdnimi'tua2 nawd'tvpA'niwAkc. haA ta2, iniwi' n kiths nipei'tua2, ma'2, sd'matin mihkd~nihk5'hSAk-. wAyd'pah sa~yd'h misi'k wdpa'wanet~lwA'Icin. hjAy, ta'2, wdi'2na tdh a-piAt4'W~%Jit? misik umewi'n ni na'p misi'k as inim-nehkdi'nimi'tva2. &A ta2, iniwi'n keh misi'k as nipi'tua2. ta'2, WAya'pah misi'k Matsi'WAkin; kiseh &'hkuah ta2 misi'k pim6'hneWA'Icin. mdi'k-kekh-niw-pa-pim5'hnetua2, kAniwi'n keh niw mii"ts-me~ti'k p'imi'hkihsih inih umihika'nuwaw. ha'2y, mihkd'ndh Ikawin' uldi'tew-kia~t6'hnenan; dnawihis6'wAlcin s kAti'W-pdsitd'hki~tA'tu~a2 ani'nuh me~ti'lkWAn. 'h&'w, p~tawe'Ikun kdh ni'wv: kjs-kj'skdhnd'?sit. k-ina-m&'tsia2,' ZwdJ'hin mihkd'niih. ha'w, iniwi'n tdh s p~tawe'tua? as wi'nusuatua2 ani'nuh me?ti'IkWAn. eA ta'2, WAtSi'a? tdh a-kieskdihnd'?85? nikc5t4's kdh na'p aya'wik, mni' - win kislceihndi'2sit inuh me'2tik. h&'w, ini'wvin-pih maydtsyA'tua?. hi A, ta?, nei'8ikAs kut&2?nas lkiw-inim-nipx''wAkin. hd'w, nik~td's keh sa~ytt'h PiAted'wAkin mAm&'tsi~ta'WAn. 'nah&'w, nehsi'Meh8Ak, y&"? pits-isi'yah. kAtd's kia?tepi'kun. hUAy, ta2, ayd'ts-tipdipahti'ydk kinaw-wdihtapi'2tati'MUAW. sa~ye'h teik tse1-k w&'pah, ini'2-pih a-pipi'AkutA'malk. kj,9-pipi'Aku-tAmi'k, ini'2 —pih tdh a-m~hk,,i'2taWA'kihtua2 alku'm MAnud'tsi~ta.'wAk,' iwed'hin mihkdi'ndh. htdiw, iniwi'n, teh as 1kiA~tepi'tua2 alki'Iuh mihkdindhk6'hsAk; iniu'i'n api'ts as kipuApi'2tawatua2 ani'nuhMAnma'tSi~ta'WAn. hii'w, mihidi'niih tdh wi'nah weini'tipai'hkah, ini'wi'n-pih maya'ts3iAt as nei'sehlkah inih mini'kan. payi'Atadt, as pApam-kakima'pit ani'nuh wj'1kiwA 'mAn, nimd'2, usami'nulcin mmcd'tsi~ta'wAkc! imi'nalcah sku,'A~ts as inim-i'syAt, ini'win as ndiw&'tsin mita'muIhsAn as nipdi'nit. utei'2silan kayis-1i'2tinah mihkai'niih, ini'win as kic'skciki'yAwesu'atsin ani' nuh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 299 "Dear me, Thunderer, what an idea! No, you won't do at all! You will get killed! Gracious me, it's no trifle! When we got up close, those humans would know it at once. Why, don't you make a frightful noise when you come anywhere? Oh, no; it won't do at all for you; no, don't go," said Turtle to the Thunderer. The Tunderer went and sat somewhere. Then again he sounded his flute. "Who will go on the war-path with me?" asked Turtle. They looked down the slope: truly the blades of grass were bending hither, as if someone were shaking them. There came the Little Turtles, a vast number of them. "Why, these, these are warriors! These are the ones who will accompany me!" said Turtle. Then of course, the birds gave up the idea of having some big fighting, and the Thunderers; all of them returned home. Turtle and his followers marched off in single file to go to war; they were going against the human people. Well, you couldn't expect those Little Turtles to walk very fast: about as far off as the eye will reach, the warriors were overtaken by darkness. So there they slept, oh, a vast number of Little Turtles. On the next day, off they marched again in single file. You could not expect them to get very far! Over there a little ways they were again overtaken by darkness. So there, again, they slept. On the next day they started off again; all day long they walked, but as they were walking along, there, at one time, was a big tree lying across their path. Heigh-ho, Turtle did not want to make a detour, and they were unable to get across the tree. "Why now, just build a fire; when it is burned through, we shall go on," said Turtle. So then they built a fire to burn that tree. Of course it took some time before it was burnt through! At last the tree was burnt through, and then they went on. At one place after another they would sleep, as they went along in their slow progress. At last they came to the human beings. "Now then, little brothers, this is the place for which we are bound. Place yourselves in a circle around it. You will place yourselves just in sight of one another. Just before dawn you will sound the war-whoop; when you have sounded it, we shall make our surprise attack against these humans," said Turtle. "Yes!" So then the Little Turtles placed themselves round about; their line just reached all the way round the people. But as for Turtle himself, when night came, he went off and stole up to that village. When he got there and was going about peeping into the wigwams, oh, there were very many of those people! He went on, way out to one end of the place, and there he saw a woman asleep. Turtle drew his knife and cut through the woman's neck. The same way 300 300Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII mitd'rnuh8An. sa~ye,'h misi'k ni/cut; ni's tdh ne~neu'win ini's as nepaz'nit mihkdi'ndh. ayZ'tuh umd'win-nuhb d'2tulc ani'nuh mj'SAn as awd' - t6k kutd'2nas andpZ'hsib-ish; ini'w.in s sd'sehkc~'hsih mihldi'nch, nanAtohtawe'sit utiiiskineni'AmAn td'2-pih a-rn iihkd'2tawi'ki nit. hd'w, sa~yd'h tsay~,'1- wd'pah, k-Anl'w?,in lcdh, ni'w We'yAk wd'htsimit: 'hh, hh, hh, hh, hu'h!' ini'tamrin. hii'w, iniwi'n-pih keh kaYeihtsi'2netua2 mihkdndhk6'hsAlk, natinetu'Atahkua2 inih mini'kWn. hit", n&'p wVi'yAk alc-i 'kIuh mmd 'tsi~tawak n ',htawe "wvin ant 'nuh Uh5h'hiwAn. 'hj'y, 6-ne'1kun, un~'kun, unZ'kun, unj'kun! kim~kdi'nike2, kimV'lci'nike2, lkikd'tew-ne'2nikm'2! mikd'hkik6' n.1 mik&'hkilcun, mik&'hIcikun!' hjd'w, MMdt'tsi~ta'wAk wd'htsita kd'2tin vn~'fpahtaWA'kin s kAtd,'Wmikdi'hkitu~a2, s&'lkitsipaht-u,'lua2, nAtdWa'pumatua2 wi' yA'In milcd'niku'tuaP. h&Ata2, /cAWi'n Wi'yAn undwjnitJwaWAn! hd', as nani'puwitua2, /cAni'win /cdh ni'w mihkd'ndhk6'hsAn pay7-'hpahtu,'ni/c. hdAW, mihkdnd'hku'/c! mihkdindhk6'hSAkcd'WiWA '/. mitemuhs&"/c, kimftti 'h85wawAn, kcimi~ti'h85waWAn, kcimiiti 'hs~waWAn Pit6k'm' n, pit6'kun! /cina-pij'hnahawd'WAkc Ch-akum mihkdn&'hku/c!' m&A2, mitd'muhsAk as mdlc-sd'kcisi'tua2. umiiti'h85wdi'WAn icutap&'htamu~kin s s&'kitsipahtu,'kua2. nimd"2. usii'matin mihkdnd'hku/c! wd'htsita kcdi'2tin umiiti'hs5wa2 mam5'8kinand'wAkcin mitd'muhSAkc. hd'ta2, w~yAwjkehk8'hseh tdh. utd'nan as aw~'h-Amd'tinA'tsin, n&A h, tsi-kcjs-ki's/cikiyAwd'humih! hMA, iniwi'n cdhq skdi'2ts-m~lc, utii'nan s nawe~md'tsin. ina'niWAlc iniwi'n-nakah d'nawi'mitua2 as nAti'pahtuAnd'tua2; ini'win as mehlkdwd&'tua2 md' ts-mihlkdnd'hkun. 'hd'w, ayu'm d2 tsiw-d'wit!' iwd'kin. h&', payiAtd'tua2, md"ts-mihkd'ndh! 'hd'w, kitd'wanu'naw kj'kina'n5?. wd'htsita kc4'2tin aw-4'sis-wZ'?' - sakd'hpinA'na/cih kinaw-ihpd'nan5'naw!' iwd'kin ina'niWA/c. payiAtd'Wihatua2, ini'win nand'wjyAw as ape-'hih mihkd'ndh. 'nahd'w, ht'2 tdh aw-ihpd'nana'kih C'h-ayum mih/cd'ndh?' iwd'/cin.,1Aa PAs klipipimu'ana/cih; imi's, imi'? as pas aweh-a~na'kih; ini'?-pih tah PA5 mayd'wats-pimu,'akih,' ind'u'A/in mihkd'n-hlcun. 'he'h!' jwd'hin mih/cd'ndh, sAheydi h,l siw ayd'wi/c, me~si'h a-ne~nit!'ygd/c. h&'w, pimi'yd/c, A-tiskd'hkihne'nun ani'nuh /cWpuwa'wAn; kcinu,'a? teh niw a-pd'2ts8ihusi'ydk.' ind'win mihkd'ndh. h&'ta2, ini'win kdh as &'naweniht&'hkua? mma-'tsi~ta'WA/c. 'hd'w, ini'2 ni /cd'2tin pas d'si/cj'yah; u-nd'm5'u'v mihkd'ndh,' iwd'/cin. 'nahd'w, pina'h md'ts-ahkd'h nip~'w PA5 kis~kine2; ini'2-pih teh me~si'h a-p~tawe'yah; ini'? tiih as pas p8'nakih as a-/ci'sisit,' ~wd'/cin misi'/c a/ci'kuh mmJ'tsi~taWA/c. I I seem to have lost a word or two at this point. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 301 with another; two sleeping women did Turtle kill. At his sides, right here, Turtle placed the heads, and with them went off to one side a ways; there Turtle lay, waiting for the sound of his men as they attacked. When dawn was near, suddenly someone called out; "Hh, hh, hh, hoo," was the sound he made. Thereupon the Little Turtles broke into a run, running up to that village. It happened that someone of those people heard the whoopers. "Hey, get up, get up, get up! We are attacked, we are attacked! They want to kill us! To the fight, to the fight, to the fight!" Truly the people leaped up from their beds to go fight; they ran out of the wigwams, they looked to see; someone was attacking them. Why, they saw no one at all! As they were standing about, suddenly the Little Turtles came running. "Why, turtles! They are little turtles! Women, bring your bags, your bags! You must bag these turtles!" The women, still in their fright, made a jump for their bags and ran out of the wigwams. Lo, a vast number of turtles! Indeed the women kept putting them into their bags until these were entirely full. But when one little old woman went to wake up her daughter, goodness me, someone had cut off her head! Of course she set up a loud weeping in her grief for her daughter. When the men ran thither to look for someone, there they found a big turtle. "Oho, it must have been this creature!" they said. They reached him: a huge turtle. "Let us take him to our dwelling; truly, in whatever way we can cause him the most pain, we shall dispose of him," said the men. When they got him to their dwelling, Turtle was placed in the center of the assemblage. "Now, what shall we do to this turtle?" they said. "Why, suppose we all shoot at him. Over there we can set him up, and then all of us shoot him," they said of Turtle. "Bosh and nonsense!" said Turtle, "You will kill each other in great numbers. When you shoot, your arrows will glance off from my shell and you will get hit by your own shots," said Turtle to them. So then, of course, the people gave up that idea. "Yes that is really what might happen to us. Turtle speaks truly," they said. "Well then, let us pour a big kettle full of water and make a big fire and put him in to boil to death," said the people. "Good!" they said. 302 302 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'heh hWA~, pas nitiipdt'2tsipAkisi'mit, tsi'?nehna,'2si yen, ki'sisi'yen? PA8 nikci'wanesi'ahkcasim; pAs nitsi'ahlkipi'wcn y~in nip~'w; md'wa h'y, und'm6'w mihlki'neih; ini'? ni /di'tin pAS i',sik~yah,' ~wd'kin MAMa't-si~ta'wAk. 'hd'w, pina'h nipi'hih kitd'wih-ahpa'kinu,'naw; a-pjhkana-'m~w; ini'? as a-nipd'lc,' jwi'hin inuh ni'kut MA~nuts8i?taw. lhi""y, nipi'w nilk6'2tAn, niko5'2tAn, nikco'?tAn, nilc6'?tAn!' jw&'hin mihkd'ndih. 'hMw, td'pipu,'nehkun!' mdi'ts-s~'pjw ini'win niw lke~tsi'h as pimZ'hneh. hdhtaya'h, mihkd'ndh mi-td'pipunid'win, ma'maw6'hkawa'tua? mihlcdn&'hkun. hAta?, rnihkd'niih ini'win niw di'nuw as sakda'hki~tAt, na'sAp niw as isj'2tat, ahpi'ts-mini'nihtah nipi'hih as IcAtd'w-ahjxl'kini'h. hM'w, isku'ahtemih misi'Ik payiAtdivwihih, hM'w, ini'win misi'Ic s sakM'hlcitAt mihkdi'nah as k6'2tah nipe~'w. hii~ta2, as kahtswei'pinatua?, lc~td's mi'-pakI-tii'hki~tawin. Ikayissakci'nawenih mihlkd'ndh, inim-ui~tdimawin, nipi'hih as ahpcd'1inatua2. 6hw&'h, mihlki'nah iniwi'n niw as d'yakic'htsih as ni'pdlc and'mipilc! d'ta2, nii'sap teh wi'nah niw isW'tawin mihlkd'nerh. h&Ata?, 'ini'? idik s kj-8-pemates.j'yen!' indnihtA'min mihldi'nah, nipi'hih as ii'yaki'htsih and'mipik. h&'w, ni-mdtsi'wAkin aki'kuh mmii'tsi?tawAlk; ini'? kCdh s kjBpema'tesit mihldi'niih. iniwi'n tdh ni' mitsi'Mnw as J'yaki'htsih. ini? md'waw. 92. RACCOON AND WOLF. (nehtsi'wihtulk) naha'w,, d'hsipan kdh piipem6'hnewin, ts'k si'piah as piMi'Mpashp~'8it as kAtd'w-mi'tsihsit. nipi'hih ini'win as ki-mehkcdwa'tsin nYahniidk'wAn as ki-mu'atsin. ki'sih d'hlkuah, tipd'h d'hlkuah ini'win dnanii'hkAsit. wayii'pah s9 nim-md'k-pima-'hnet kayj's —td'pinit, hd'w, imi's nu'akc'w dmd'pit, kAni'win Iceh niw md"ts-mahwd'w pay-i'tuhnet. d'hsi p~n keh~cnawe'win mahwd'wAn ahpd'n niw as ki-pu'AwiMAnit. hd'w, ini'win-pih n5'hpimih dnawi'mit d'hsipAn. ha'w, ini'win as mi'sit. kay*j's-misit, ini'win-pih wa'Wi'hpinah ini'h umi'h; umd'win tah ds-lkali'siwe'nah; si wAto'w ined'namin. iniwi'n-pih tdk payi'manit; umd'win tah as a'?tulk, uhpd'niah. mahwei'w pituhne'win imi's nu'ak~w. ha'w, ini'win-pih wi'nah ap d'hsipan si'piah dnawi'mit; minwin tdh as miy&'hkiwA'tsin. IhA, jwa'hin mahwd'w, 'kawi&'nalcAt na'p kd'Ic~h d'?tawan Mi'tsiswan? usa'mat, nipu,'AWi?tam,' e-wa'hin mahwd'w. hM', d'hsipan ni 'pi~tawin: 'mahwd'w, nind'? nit&'?tun,' jwa'hin a hsi pan, sasipa'nah up~'hsehkakcan. uta'hpinamin inih umi'h Ikay&s 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 303 "Pshaw, don't you suppose I'll throw myself about terribly when the hot stuff touches me and I am being scalded? I should move about like crazy, I should splash out that water, and you would all get scalded!" said Turtle again. "Why, Turtle is speaking the truth; that is really what would happen to us," said the people. "WIell, then, let us go throw him into the water; he will drown; that will be the the end of him," said one of those people. "Hey, I'm afraid of water, I'm afraid of it, I'm afraid of it!" said Turtle. "All right, take hold of him!" A big river flowed by near there. Poor Turtle, he was seized; all hands went at Turtle. To be sure, Turtle tried to hang on to things there, but he did so only in pretense, for really he was glad that he was to be thrown into the water. When they had got him as far as the door, Turtle again tried to hold on there, in fear of the water. "Ho, ho, ho, ho, with all your might now, with all your might!" As they tugged and heaved at him, finally he let go. Turtle was seized by the tail and dragged along, and they threw him into the water. Alas, Turtle! There he lay submerged and died under the water. But Turtle was only pretending. "Well, here we are; I'm saved!" thought Turtle, lying there under water. The people went away, and so now Turtle's life was saved. And he is still lying there in the water. That is all. 92. RACCOON AND WOLF. (Nehtsiwihtuk) Raccoon was walking about, hunting by the river to get his food. In the water there, he found some crawfish and ate them; all day and all night he was busy at this. The next morning, when he had had his fill and was walking along, he looked downstream, and there was a big wolf walking toward him. Raccoon knew that Wolf was always hungry. So uphill from the river ran Raccoon. There he eased himself. When he had eased himself, he picked up his dung; like this he shaped it round; like a ball he shaped it with his paws. Then he tucked it into the fold of his bosom; he placed it here, on his chest. Wolf was walking hither from downstream. Then Raccoon, too, ran to the river and met him. "Hello!" said Wolf, "Haven't you perhaps something in the way of food about you? I'm too hungry for words." Up rose Raccoon: "Here, Wolf, I have something," he said, searching about in his jacket. He got hold of that dung of his which 304 304Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kdkli'siwe'nah. 'h&'w, um&2~!' indi'win mahwd'wan; 'y&6'? ldih ni'nah kiw-ind'htsike'yan.' Ih6A, waiwa'nin!' jw&'hin mahwd'w as 6kti'hpinah s kdi'?s-m~'sikc, mahwdi'w. hud'ta2?, 'ni'nah umd2-nalka'h nuak5'w disi'yen, y~m sjpjYw na'p ki-pimi'm-nt~nd'haman ninah ap kAta'w-m?tsih8V'yen,' jw&'hin di'hsipan. ini'win-pih waydi'puhnet s Md'ts8iAt d'hsipA'n. 'ha? klc'h, ni~a't, ni'nah a'p uma2-nakca'h wand'nipih pd'pamisi'yen,' ~wd'hin mahwii'w. hd'ta2, makc-mjtsihs6'win mahwa'w as M&'tsiAt. hd'ksipan slkAs ni'w ihpih payi'Atft, hti'hSipAn, isa'pume'win mahwd'wan tsj'?napumd'tsin mi'tsihsinit. ha'w, ini'win-pih Ikayii'htsi~tAt hd'hsi pAn; imi's dnd'pit, md"ts-ask&'h ini'win as tsej'patsih tWiI si'piah. ha'w, d'hsi p~n ani'win me?ti'kWAn nayd'tsipa'htuAna'tsin. sa~ye'h ke~tsj'h payi'Atdt, iniwi'n-pih misi'k tsay~2napumd'tsin mahwd'wAn. 'hUAy, miahwd'w!' w&2ndw imi 'win as And'mipa'htulk; 'h~iy, mahmahwa'w nak&'2tawin ini'nalkah as and'pit. 'tda? d'yen, ni~a't? 4~wi'hin mahwd'w. nimdP2, mahwd'w! 'hwj'y!' ~wd'hin. niMdA2, mnahwd'w ini'win-pih kdi'hkinah mi'h as mei'tsikc; nimdA2, mahwd'w wd'htsita kd'?tin ini'win-pih nd'hlkusit. naha'w: 'ahsipAn, kind'2nin!' pimj'nisihd'tsin. d'ta2, d'hsi pan kd'?ts-wdpeg'win as usi'mit; ask&'hlcun ani'win niw nayii'tine'tuan&'tsin. sa~yd'h as u~i'mit payi'Atdt aska'hkcun, iniwi'n as ahku,'Ahtawe'pahtuk d'hsi pAn. sa?yd'h spd'miah payi'Atdt a'hsi pan, iniwi'n-pih MAhwd'w ini's payi'hpahtuk, piAtd'wipa'hztuk. iniwi'n wd'h-kntdpa-ma'tsin mahwd'w d'hsipanan. ndslkd'n niw n~nipund'win dhsipAnAn. ahlci'hih iniwi'n s pii'pehtsih mahwd'w. hdAta2, a'hsipan spd'miah iniwin d'siAt slci'hlkuh s aw~'h-sdsehkcj'hsih. ha'w, mahwd' tdh wina'h ap iniwi'n niw as kaw~'?tW, a'ycapit, a'hsipAnAn as ahlc~ndh&'ts3in s a-pen~'?tAnit. ki'sih d'hlkwAh, hd'ta'?, d'hsi p~n iniwi'n as ayi't spd'miah; mahwd'w wi'nah ap iniwi'n niw as d'yapit. wdnitipd'hlkah, hd'w, iniwi'n inahwd'w tsj'k ani'nuh me?ti'IcWAn as awj'h-n~'puwit kAndpumca'tstn d'hsipA'nAn tipdh a'hlcuah. iniwi'n niw ds-wd'pah; ni'wukcu'n 1ciskandpu~me'win d'hsipA'nAn. d'ta?, iniwi'n sa~ya'h as kklci'hlkwa~si'tua2. ta"?, winah wi'nah d'hsi p~n ispd'miah md'nawats ki-nipa"'win; ta'?, ayu'm tdth mahwd'w kawi'n undipi'nan. ta'?, kicspin mahwti'w ni'pdt, dhsipa'n kAtaW-pin~'?taw. ha'w, mahwd' tdh iniwi'n s nehlk6'-,sit; lcawi'n ulc&'ta-nipd'nan. hM', nilc6'tds iniwi'n sa~yd'h mahwd'w as kalit'hkwa~sit, mahwii'w. ha'w, iniwin WMt mahwd'w: 'hd'hsipaA n, kind'? nd'2tAM-nipd'yan!' Zw&'hin mahwd'w as kj'hkanm'tsin dhsipa'nan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 305 he had shaped into balls. "Yes, here you are!" he said to Wolf; "This is at any rate what I am accustomed to eat." "Oh, thank you!" said Wolf, taking it and starting to eat with zest. "Downstream there, is where I am going; this river, you know, is where I always go about looking for my food," said Raccoon. Then Raccoon started off at a walk. "Very well, my friend; and as for me, upstream is where I go about," said Wolf. So Wolf walked away, eating. When Raccoon had got a ways off, he looked back at Wolf and watched him as he ate. Then Raccoon broke into a run; when he looked yon way, there stood a big white-pine by the river. He ran for that tree. When he had got quite close to it, again he looked at Wolf. "Hey, Wolf!" - Far off there he was running yon way; "Hey, hey, Wolf!" cried Raccoon, "Say!" Wolf stopped and looked in that direction. "What's that you say, friend?" said Wolf. "You're eating my dung!" Oh, horrors! "Pew!" said Wolf. Again: "You're eating my dung!" Oh, now Wolf knew that he was eating dung; he was angry indeed. "Raccoon, I'll kill you!" and he was after him. Raccoon ran hard to get away; he ran for the white-pine. When he got away and reached it, up the tree he ran. Hardly had Raccoon got up aloft, when Wolf got there on the run. Wolf jumped up at Raccoon. He barely missed him as he grabbed for him. Down to the ground fell Wolf. High up on the white-pine went Raccoon and there he lay. Wolf, too, lay down right there, taking his place to watch for Raccoon to come down. All day, there was Raccoon up above; and there was Wolf. When night came, Wolf went and stood close to that tree, on the watch for Raccoon all night. Daylight came; for four days he watched for Raccoon. Then was when they became sleepy. Raccoon, for his part, could sleep a little up there; but Wolf did not sleep at all. For, if Wolf slept, Raccoon would come down. Wolf was very angry; he would not sleep. Time came when Wolf got very sleepy. Then Wolf said: "Raccoon, you will be the first to fall asleep!" He said this to anger Raccoon. 20 306 8043Pubications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ei'ta2, wi'nah ap di'hsi pAn iniwin.~'ts: Cmahwda" indi'win wi'nah ap d'hsi pan. 1uA'w, iniwi'n kdh ayi'suh as kihka'htitua2. nilc6'tii mahwdi'w ndskdi'n niw Iki-kj'kit6'win Ikj'hkama'tsin d~'hsipA'nAn: ldhsipd&An, kinJ'2tanip&'h!' in'i'win. neska'n ni kdi'liti5'win mahwd'w s kakfI'hkWAsit. saydi'h mitdi'tahnuku'n Icawi'n und'pdnii'wawan. hd'w, di'hsipan iniwi'n dind'nihtah: 'hd^, sa~y6Vh kAta'w-nipa'w; ndskd'n ni kci' - lcit6w,' inei'nihtA'min. Ihd'w, wi'nah ap a'hsipAn iniwi'n an&'nihtah: Id ma nawats niw nna-ka'kitim,' in.'i'nihta'min a'hsipAn. 'mahw4'w, nAwa'h kd'h kina'2tanipd'h!' ~wai'hin ei'hsi pan. hU'h, nAWd'h lkAni'win kdih niw wd'htsimit mahwdi'w: Z~wd'hin mahwdw. 'ini2 sa~ya'h s nipJ't,' indi'nihta'min d'hsipan. hd'w, kawin d'hsi ptn ukad'kiti'nan. &'2, nawj'naw, Ihd'h, kAnliwi'fl Ikeh niw mi's tsi'kahlciah kdi'lch nay6'htah di'hsipan: 'hhh hh hhhI hh hhrrr4 hod I, nipdf'w,' in4'nihtA'min i'hsi pAn. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih pd'ni~tAt, sinawd"? niw. tsi'kahkiah imi's payi'Atdt, 5hwdi', mahwdi'w siwas d'nitsinihki'hsinin as ni'pat:- 'h5'C&'A.' aptdisi'k niw k62ne'win d,'hsi pAn. 'hii', kd'k~h n&'sap niw tsiw-isW'taw mahwd,'w,' indi'nihtAmin. d'ta2, as tsi-tsj2naPundi'tsin, hd'ta2, nipd~'win ldih niw wd'htsita' niw. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih pdi'ni?tAt kd'2tsih as aw.j'h-niw-tsjYnapumd 'tsin mahwa'wan ini's me~ti'kuh; iniwi'n wi'nah as i't; hJ'ta2, nipd~' win lcdh ni wii'htsita' niw. hd'w, iihsipan, anih uhtlihkwAnan as taki'Icin inun'h askcdh, pilce'WAn iniwi'n as mii'watsiha'tsin d'hsipAn. hd'w, me~si'h wi'hlihe'win pike'wAn. iniwi'n-pih pi8-pinj'2tAt, mahwd'w as 8ehke'hih; usk~hsikcuh iniwi'n as a?tuwa-'tsin ani'nuh pilcewAn. d', mis~w6V niw as a~tuwd'tsin pi~cewAn. mdi'waw kay~sa~tuwd'tsin d'hsipan, iniwi'n-pih may&'tsiAt as usi'mit. d'ta2, mahwd'w wi'nah nii'nipat, hd', nilkata's lkeh niw kuslc6'siwin mahw6Vw. 1 This and the following speeches in very weak, high-pitched voice. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 307 Then said Raccoon in turn, to him: "Wolf, First shalt 'ee sleep!" And in this way they taunted each other. At last Wolf could hardly talk, as he taunted Raccoon: "Coo-oon, Firs' shalt 'ee slee-eep!" he said to him. Wolf could scarcely make a sound, so sleepy was he. For ten days now they had not slept. Then thought Raccoon: "He'll soon be asleep now; he can scarcely make a sound." This is what Raccoon thought: "I'll just call very quietly," he thought. "Wolf, At last It's you who're first asleep!" said Raccoon. It was a long time before Wolf gave forth a sound: "Raccoon, Firs' sh'll 'ee sleep!" said Wolf. "Now he'll soon be asleep," thought Raccoon. Raccoon made not a sound. Soon, in fact, he heard something down there at the foot of the tree: "Hhhh-hh, hhh-hh, hhrr." "Well, he's asleep," thought Raccoon. So then he came down, noiselessly. When he got to the foot of the tree, there was poor Wolf lying on his back, asleep: "Ho-oh, ha-ah." Raccoon was still afraid of him. "Perhaps Wolf is just pretending," he thought. He observed him closely: why, he was indeed really asleep. So then he came all the way down to observe Wolf at close range there by the tree; there he lay; he was really asleep. From the place where the limbs of the white-pine sprang out, Raccoon collected a quantity of rosin. He managed to get a lot of rosin. Then he came down again to where Wolf was lying; he put the rosin into his eyes. All over them he put the rosin. When he had put all of it on him, then off started Raccoon and fled. Wolf kept on sleeping and in due time woke up. 20* 308 308Publications, American Ethnologjical Society Vol. XII 'h~'y, hU'y,' ind'nihtA'min, 'nim4'k-lkand'purnaw kahminisit d'hsipAn,' indVnihtA'Min nepuwj'pahtuk mahwti'w. hMA, 8pdi'miah imi's3 kAt.''w-ana'pit, h&', k-awi'n un4'minan; y&'hpits kd-'k~h kip~'hnenin ninA's uske'hsikoh. MAd, y6'm ntiitti'nah, 'wd'ki2 IUMA8 d,'9tik nisk~'hs3ik~h?' ind'nihhtA, pikj'wAn ydhpi'ts m~skindiWAnin usN~'sikuh, pike'WAnI. 'hj' heit, apd'hpeni-siwA'k! ini'2 ka'h sa~yd'h s kj's-ka80'!' in'u'nihtA'min MAhwa'w. ha'ta2, t&'2-nalcah tdih aw-i'siet? kAwin und'minan. CA pimo6'hnet me~ti'kWAn di'WiWAn. h'w, misi'k kutdi'2nas3 tsiw-isi'win; ma'kkeh-niw-pim6'hnet, kAniwi'n 1&ih ni'w rnisik, h6-'h Xih, iniwi'n uti'h s p&'pehtsih mahwi'wv psik&'hkihsih. h',pdhpini'8iWAlc, nind'pim!' ~wd'hin mahwd'w. ha'w, iniwi'n kiih di'sikimake'sit, h&'w, kdi'2tin niw as kutdi'kihtuk. hli'w, nikc3'tdis iniwi'n s pldki'hkihsih me~ti'kwAn. 'hi', pdhpenis3iWA'k! wdsj'h-ind'htik ayd'wi yen?' in&,'win mahwd'w ani' nuh me~ti'kWAn. 'h6h, s5puma'htik nitd'wim,' #jw&'hin me~ti'k. 'kW', ap&'hpenisiWA'k! nind'pim! kAne2 na'p s a-Icehkj'naman 'he, inahwd'w, kAn kd~'k~h nipe'w. ini's niw miya'w isi'IAnunn kutd'2nas naw~nd'2s kina-mehkd*'n' ind"'win s5-pumd'htik. he', ta'2?, mahwdi'w miyii' niw as isi'At, nik~5ti's iniwi'n misilc s p&Aki'hlkihsih. 'h~hwd%', he, wdsj'kiw ay&'wi yen?' ind'win misi'/c mahwdt'w. lh", sipi'ah-s~pumdi'htikc niki'w-ikdm,' tjwd'hin sipi'ah-s5pum&'htik-. WA kAne'? na'p nipj'w kd.'2tsih s a-taki'k?'ind~'win mahw4'w. 'h&'w, miyd' niw mnis isyA'nun. ke~tsi'h niw ninA's nipj'w ini? as taki'k; miydi' niw ini's isyA'nun; kina-mehkii'n nip~'w,' ind'win si'piah-s5pUM&'htik. heiw, miyii' niw mahwd'w isi'win; nik6ti's ldih sa~yd'h mihkutsi'namin nipej'w. kutdtsi'nah, hd'ta2, nip~'w kah niw a'wiwin. hM'w, mahwd'w nipi'hih iniwi'n s pim6'hnet. miyj' niw n6'2s5h isi'win, mahwdi'w. hi'y, w&2na'w ats-paki'win ini'h nipj'hseh. mahwd'w kawi'n uldihkina'nan tdi'2 ts3iw-ahkii'ahah. hM'w, kAniwi'n kdh niw wd'htsimit mahwdi'w as ki'kitit: 'tdi ni hdt ko mo6 ya- ne-, ~wdi'hin mahwd'w. M'lw, Wi'yAk iniwi'n niw wdi'htsimit ahki'hih: 'hWy, kipdhkikanaUhA, 'jwi'hin mahwd'w, pim6'hnet nipi'hih. 1L Informant gives the prose words (Potawatormi?) as follows: t&' nin d'hlcua?am4'nih? 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 309 "Tut, tut," he thought, "Come to think, I'm watching for Raccoon!" thought Wolf and leaped up. But when he tried to look up aloft, he could not see; something was entirely obstructing his eyes. He felt for it with his hand; "What's that in my eyes?" he thought. Why, his eyes were entirely full of rosin! "Oh, dear, it's all up! Now he has got away from me!" thought Wolf. But where was he to go? He could not see. He walked a ways and bumped into a tree. What's that? He felt for it with his hand: It was a tree. Again he walked in some other direction; as he walked on, again he knocked into some hard thing and fell. "Hey, it's all up, I'm as good as dead!" said Wolf. That was the way things went with him; he was truly in a painful plight. Again he knocked into a tree. "Hey, this is dreadful! What sort of tree are you?" asked Wolf of that tree. "Why, I am a Sugar-Maple," said the tree. "Oh, this is dreadful! I am as good as dead! Please, do you know where there is some water?" he asked him. "Oh, Wolf, there's no water here. Go straight ahead; likely enough you'll find it, somewhere'or other," said the Maple to him. As Wolf walked on straight ahead, he again knocked into a tree. "Dear me! What sort of tree are you?" Wolf again asked. "Why, River-Maple I am called," said the River-Maple. "Please, isn't there some water near here?" Wolf asked him. "Yes, walk straight on. Right near, over there, is water; just go straight on and you will find water," said the River-Maple. Straight ahead went Wolf; soon he felt water. When he reached out to feel for it, it really was water. So into the water walked Wolf. Right out away from the shore he went. For a long ways out that lake was shallow. Wolf did not know how far in he was. After a while he called out, saying: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" Then someone on the land called out: "Why, up to your ankles!" "All right," said Wolf, walking along in the water. 310 310Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI hcA'ta2, nilk~td's lcdh niw aya'wik - ta'2, lcawi'n um6',sihtunan ini'h nipe~'w. imi's s lces-pimo'hnet 8 kj8-pakd'hkihsih me~ti'lkuh, ydhpi'ts p&.'hsisi'win y6'm' wj'8; misjwd' niw wj2sake8siwi'n y~m wej's; kjyspdkc&'hlihsinin ahlci'hih as Ikjs-pim6'hnet. ha'w, sa~yd'h misi'k uhtsWmu~win mahwvd'w. hjAy, sa~yd'h uhlki'kAn iniwi'n nisi'k sayd'kipik. ha'w, ini2-pih misi'/c layd'lkitit: 'td'ni hdlc~m~ydni-, tu~ka'ne, tuka'nd?' ~wa'hin mahwd'w. "5A ' ~wa'hin mahwd'w. 'ha', nd's kdih niw ihpih nd'piyan aw-a'wiw,' ina"'nihtami'n mahiwd'w as fpim6'hnet nipi'hih. ha'w, nilc6ta's iniwi'n sa~yd'h as ani'wipit. ana'miah nip'hih iniwi'n s pim6'hnet. ha', nik6'td's iniwi'n kah as ni'pak as pi/hhkana'mit mahwd'w. ini'2 Icdh s kj'sR-nipd~k mahwd'w. ha'w, ay6' winah ke~ts8-ind'niw iniwi'n as wdwj'kit nipj'hsehs8ih; md"ts-nip~'hseh awiwvi'n. ha'w, utei'?napi'man tand'win inu'h lke~tsindni'Ahseh; iniwi'n nAmdi'2sAn s kiw-nakuana'ts8in nipi'hih. iniwin mahu'd'w as n6'we~neh i'nalcah 1kaye-s-ina'hukcit. mi'p miitsi'win kets-indni'Ahseh nand'tsin utii~nape'MAn. payi'Atdt, hA, icawin kdi'k-5h ani'nuh me~tikwu'Ah8An uldi'hlkiwd'htsika'nAn; Mii'wa niw lcehtapi'slkaua'nin. ha'w, 1cay&s-pehko~nd'iA'in, iniu'i'n-pih sayfzwi-V lcinA'tsin ke~ts3-ind'niw. hVy?, icawin uwi'hlciha'nan s lCAtd'waku,'Ana-'tsgin lkAta'w-po'8iha'tsin ume?tilk6'nimih. ha'w, iniwin-pih wayj'htam~wd'tsin umd'tim6'hseMAn: 'hjy'~, kuApahe'lAn pit~n6A nl!1 ind'win wj'wan. h&'w, wjyAwj1kehkc'hseh, ta2, n6'htawe'win ulcd~ts-indni'AMAn; 8a'kitsi'pahtawin. ch6', pyAn fA un, lkuApahj'lkan pit~n6An!l ind'win W~wAn. ha'w, wjyAwj1kehk5'hseh utahpina'min inih IkUApahe'lan, me~tilc6'nih s p6'sit, kd'?ts-pimj'tsimit as i5i'At ukdi'2ts-indni'AMAn. ha'w, payi'Atdt Ica~ts-indni'AMAn, nimaA, ha~na'p ana'mipik imi'win as alki'hts3ih. 'ha'w, nina'?!' ind'win ulkd~ts-indni'ArnAn. ke~ts-ind'niw 1kayj's3-utd'hpinah iniwi'n-pih lkfitslc8uAna'ts3in. hA'w, pat'hpesi'w pisehlka'win inuh a~na'p. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih ta/i kayiwa'tua2 pimi'ts3ime'tua2; wjydwj1kehk5'hs3eh wd'htsita'w iniwi'nklayd'2tspi'hilket pimi'tsimet. ha'w, hat'w, payiAtd'tua2 wtj'k~wa2, iniwi'n-pih alcu'ahsiMA'tu&a ani'nuh a~napi'An. nimaA, Wi yAk is3~'1iw siwas apj' win, ma"t8-mahu'ad'w tsi-ki's-nipak. C5A, we yatwjdA/i, kina-na'-siwadA2!' ~wa'hin ke~ts3-ina'niw. hat'w, iniwi'n-pih kb~ts-ind'niw wayjnane~'htsiket. nimaA2, USa' matin winin5'hseh; una'lcuwin mahwd'w; mana"'tin pim~'h. hat'w, 1 Foreign, for Men. Vi't~h. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 311 And then, - Wolf did not feel the water clearly. Because, while walking along, he had knocked into trees, his head was very much swollen; it ached all over; he had violently knocked into things while walking on the land. So now Wolf sang out again. By this time only his neck was above water. So now he cried again: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" "Up to your neck," he was told. "All right!" said Wolf. "Oh, I don't care when I die," he thought, as he walked along in the water. Finally he got beyond his depth. He kept right on walking under the water, until at last he was drowned and died. So that is the way Wolf died. Now this old man lived there by the lake; a big lake it was. This little old man had a net; he caught fish in that water. To this place the Wolf drifted before the wind. In the morning the little old man went to bring in his net. When he got there, the little sticks that were his marks were gone; they had all gone under water. He untied the net and pulled at it. Why, he couldn't manage to get it out of the water to put into his dug-out. So then he said to his wife: "Hey, bring a dipper!" The little old woman heard her husband; she came running out of the house. "Hey, come here, bring a dipper!" he said to his wife. The little old woman took the dipper, got into her dug-out, and paddled fast toward her husband. When she reached him, why, there was the net way under water. "Here it is!" she said to her husband. The old man took it and caught the net on it, and at last, up came the net. Then they canoed back home; truly, the old woman paddled hard. When they got home, they landed the net. Why, some sort of creature was in there, a big dead wolf! "Ho, wife, we shall give a feast!" said the old man. Then the old man prepared the carcass. Most plentiful was the grease; the wolf was fat; there was much oil.1 Then the old man 1 Inconsistent with first part of story. 312 312Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] iniwin-pih wd'8ihtulk wj'lciwAm, md"t8-lkin,6'htem Ice~t8-ind'niw. iniwi'n, 8a~y4'h 1cayjs-/kj'8ihtulk, naya'lcAtawd'nihtah kd'taw-isj'2tAt. 'nalu7'w, mini sa~ye'h s a~w-usej'htawan aw-isj'kih d't ahkcj'w ataki 'k aw-is-mi 'tsihsit ayu mMrAnato 'w.' indi'nihtA'min ke~ts-ind'niw; 'ma wa niw nna-natomd'WA1CMAnat5'wAk,' ind'nihtA'min. h&'w, iniwi 'n-pih, - md"ts-utd'hkehkun d'wiwA'nin, - utd'hkehkun kay~'s-akc~nd'tsin, nip~'w iniwi'n as a'9tuk ahkd'kuh, p5'tawet. WjyAwjkehk5'hseh nd'tam~wdi'win u~ka~ts-inani'AMAn ts3ipd/hkitua?, mdt't8-mahwdi'WAn as and'tua2. iniwi'n api'ts as m6'skinet inuh md't8-ahkdh, mahwd'w as anj'h ahkd'hk-uh. nimdA?2, us8'matin pim~'h! sa~yd'h as tsi-m6'skinepi't inuk ahk-d'h inih pimj'h, iniwi'n-pih inu,'h ke~ts3-ind'niw kayu,'Apahah ini'h pimMh, undi'kanih as a'2tuk. hdi'w, ydhpi'ts mitskinepi'win md"ts-ut~na'kan pime-'h. iniwi'n-pih d'wvihpi'htik-at6'k mni's we'kiwAmih kayjs-us~htuk; ndnd'WjyAw as a'wik inih wj'kiw.Am., iniwi'n as a'2t~k inih un&'kan. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k nikut ut~nd'kan wdftdhpinah, hd'w, m~tsim~'hseh iniwi'n misi'lc as a'2t~k; yd'hpits m~skine'win inih md'ts-und~'kan. iniwi'n misi'k s pi'htikat~k inih wj'kiWAm kayj'8-us8~'htuk. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih wdtii'hpinah upa'pikWAn; spdi'miah umdi'winnakah di'sis-kdkit~wdi'htah ke~ts-ind'niw. nimaA2?. md'wa niw Ut'pehtamu,'kin ispd'miah ayi'tua? uhpj'?taWAk. 'hdAW, kine~inikd'?!' itowAkin. nimdA?, pd'hpisiw kdkit~ws''win y6'm kj'sik as pini'2tatua? uhpj'2taWAk, mam&'h-uhpj'2taWAk. md'wa niw pi'WAkin as pihtike'tua? ini'h wj'kiwvAm tsi-k#js-usj'htuk inu'h ke~ts-in~d'niw. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k kaydkit~wdi'htah ini'h upd,'pikWAn inu'h ke~tsind'niw; ahki'hih tdh akum ayi'tua2 MAnato'WAk ma'wa niw pin'wAkin. pisj'w, awd'hseh, amd'8kuw8uk, atd'hkuk, ap4'h8swsuk, mahwa'wAk, w&'pusuk, akuAhk6'hs3Ak, me~nak~u'Ahlkuk, w'ji'kuh8Ak, d'hSipA 'nAk, mJ 'wa niw isj'kiWAk kinf7t'pikuk, misdsd'hkuk, midsdshk6'hsAk, sakiMa,'WAk, pehk8'hsAk, md'wa niw i8~'kiWA nAma'2smk, - kAnkawa,'h isj,'h-nAMdsAk m&'wa niw kis-pi'WAkin, - nAMd'hkuk, mik'kuk, utsi,'kvk, wapehsi'ah-SAk, sd~hki'ksAk, sik6'hsAk, unawan' kuk, kahki'kuk, wipiskdi'h8Ak, mdi'wa niu' ise'kiWAk kis-pi'wAkin; mihkdnvui'hku~k kis-pi'WAkin. nahd'wt, ini'9 mdqw. y~hpi'ts m~skine'WAkin inih w~'kiWAmwe'yAk sMh-mAndt6wAk. nah&'w, kayis-mfiskine'tua?, iniwi'n-pih inu'h ke~ts3-inei'niw ausj'h tukun kjyAWd'WAn aw-inim-isj'kimakah d't ahke-'w a-taki'k. ini? wdh-Ct'wik nat~minA'kuk,' ind'win ke~ts-ind'niw. 'ih-inih pim~'h iund'kanih d'2tek, ini's kehtdpi'2takun. kj'spin wi'yAk misj'wd~ niw kehtdpi'2tAt, dits ahkj'w a-taki'k kinaw-urnd'kimUMw,' irn''win. 'mni? s3a~ya'h s a-wd'pi~tayd'k,' indi'win ke~t8-ind'niw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 313 built a house, a big round-lodge. When he had finished it, he considered what he would do. "Well then, now I shall arrange the way it shall be as long as the earth endures, the way of eating of the animals," thought the old man; "I shall call all the animals." And then, - he had a large kettle, - he hung up his kettle, put water into it, and made a fire. The little old woman helped her husband cook, and they boiled the big wolf. Exactly full was that large kettle when the wolf was being boiled in it. Oh, there was a plenty of fat! When the kettle was entirely full of fat, the old man dipped out the fat and put it into a bowl. Entirely full of fat was his big bowl. Then he brought it inside the house he had built; at the very center of the house he placed the bowl. Then he took another of his bowls and put the meat into it; entirely full was the big vessel. This too he brought into the house he had built. Then the old man took his flute; up into the air he sounded it. All the birds that dwell up in the air heard the sound. "Oh, we are being invited!" they said to each other. In a short time the sky resounded as the birds came down, the great birds. All of them came and entered the house which the old man had built. Then again did the old man sound his flute; and the animals that dwell on the earth all came: the panther,1 the bear, caribou, elks, deer, wolves, hares, woodchucks, badgers, foxes, raccoons, all kinds of snakes, horse-flies, deer-flies, mosquitoes, gnats, all kinds of fish, - a great variety of fish, all of them came, - beavers, otters, fishers, martens, minks, weasels, squirrels, chipmunks, gophers; all kinds of animals came; the turtles came. That is all. The many kinds of animals entirely filled the house. When they were all inside, the old man spoke: "Hail!" he said to the animals, "Hail! Do you now arrange the way your bodies shall be as long as the earth endures. That is the purpose for which I have called you." So spoke the old man. "In that fat over there in the bowl do you dip yourselves. Any one of you who dips himself all over, will be fat as long as the earth endures," he told them. "Now begin." 1 Named first probably in compliment to me or in jest at my expense (my name is Pisew, panther ); cf. below, where the panther is hero of the episode usually related of the deer. a 314 314Pubications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hd'w, pisj'w mi-ni'pi~ta'win nd'sehkah inik und'kan. iniwi'n s awj'h-1kehtiipi'tAt. nimj'wa niw Ikehtdipi'2tawin inih pim.j'h; iniwi'nipih ya'h-alcu'A~tAt. hd', pisj', tsi~nap&'hsIIt, wjnin5'hsehk sami'natin,w'5as iind'kit. 'hd 'w, ni '2!' ind'win ke~ts-ind'niuw; -'awj'h-undJ'pin'un; awj'hawjbh-misa'hsinin pisj'w. ha'w, nimd"A2, wdhts3ita'uw iniwi'n as mini'nihtah pisj'w as un&'kit. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'lc aw'i'hseh nayi'pi~tAt, unii'kanih iniwi'n s awj'h-k5'kjt. nimna-2, awdi'hseh we's3 nisi'lk iniwi'n md'nawats sayai'kipik pim~'hih s 8ehkj'hsih! ha'w, n6'MAIdih niw 8ehkj'hsinin pimj'hih. h&'w, nayi'pi~tAt, ka y~'s-akcu'AtW, ta'?, ts3i~napvd'hsit,awd'hseh, usa'matin wjnin5'hseh pimj'h; mis~wii' niw pimj'h d'wiwin wj'yaw. h&'w, awd'hseh n~sled'n niw wi'hleihe's~win as pim6'hnet, tsiwahpi'ts-unii'kit. ho'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k apd'hsus, awjh-leehtdpi'?tawin, ap4'hsus, pimj'hih. hdt'w, kayjs-akeu'A~tAt, y6'm diniipahsit apdi'hsus,, tsiw-:st8d'matin pim~'h as una'lcit. 'h&'w, mini ked'h!' in4'nihtA'min pdf'hsu~s 8aw~h-mis~t'hsih. m&'wa niw iniwi'n $ kis-lcelei'tua? mAndt6'wAle. usad'm kini's pas ii'wiw m&'wa niw keAta'w-da'tSiMA'lcihtua2; tsi ya'w tdh kina-pei'sitA'hdi2. iZh-y5'm kea ye's-i-sV?tAtua? MAnato'wAle, umA's3 s lks-und'nitula? y6'm pimi'h, kay~s-mii'waw-lkjsi~tA'tua?, m4'wa niw mini'nihtAmu'kin hd'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'Ic lkayi'lcitit inuh ke~t8-in6'niw: 'ha'w, eAti's8mitsihsileu'n!' ini''win. h&'w, wd'htsitAldi'?tin MAndit6'wAlk iniwi'n s kd'2ts-mitsihsi'tua? as mu'atua? mahwd'wAn naniti'tua. md'waw kay~'s-kitdlkd'tua?, h&'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'le k-ayjkitdtawa'tsin inuh lej2ts-indi'niw: 'nah&'w, td'? tdh aw-isjYkimalcah? inih ni'w aw-iydt'k, ini'? aw-isj'lkih dits ahk~w a-taki'le,' lcs-ind~'win inuh ke~t~s-ind'niw MAndit5'wAn. 'hjh-y5'm as wd'?2sinA'ku~ah kji'sikc, ti'? a's-nAtawd'nihtAmdk kAtd's usj'htulenn,' indi'win, 'kdmd'w sa-lkj'sikah ldima'w s a-wani'tipd'hleah alhp4'n niw hd'ts ahkiw a-.taki'k.'indi'win. hdA, MAnattowAk kawi'n wi'yAlk uli'leiti'nan. h&'w, awdi'hseh mi'-ni'pi?tawin; nct'wdkAmnik iniwin a'SiAt as awij'hdsinalk&s'yan, ini'? ledh ni'nah d'sis-nita-wd'nihtA'MAn s awisind'kuah y6'm kj'8ile, hpdi'n niw s a-wani'tipi'hleah.' 'hRAy, pahpenisiWA'lc!' iwd'hin inu,'h lee?ts-indi'niw, 'hd'w, h&'w, had 'w, nAtona'hamueu,'n aw-is~'keimakeah,' ind''win misik inuh lee'?tsmandtnw. hd&'w, leawi'n Wi'yAle ulei'kiti'nAn. nAwcd'h ayJ'wile lahlei'k ni'pi?-.ta'win: 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 315 Panther arose and went up to the vessel. He dipped himself in it. For a little while he dipped himself in the fat, then he got out. So, when Panther took a look at himself, plenty of lard there was on his body; he was fat. "That will do!" said the old man to him, "Go be seated; take your place." Panther went and sat down. Ah, Panther was truly glad to be fat! Then Bear arose and went for a dive into the vessel. Oh, but only Bear's head stuck out a bit from the liquid, as he lay in the fat! For a while he lay in the fat. When he arose and came out and took a good look at himself, a plenty of lard there was; his body was fat all over. "That will do!" said the old man to him; "Go be seated." Bear could hardly manage to walk, so fat was he. Then Deer went and dipped himself in the fat. When he came out and looked around at himself, like this, there was plenty of fat on him. "Well enough!" thought Deer as he went to his seat. Then all the animals dived there. It would be too long, were we to tell them all; we shall have to skip it. When all the animals had gone through that act of bathing in this fat, when they had all finished, all rejoiced at being stout of body. Then again spoke the old man: "Now then, come eat!" he said to them. Truly the animals then made a hearty meal, eating the wolf to which they had been invited. When they had eaten it all up, the old man again addressed them: "Now then, as to the way things are to be, whatever you say, so will it be as long as the earth shall endure," said the old man to the animals. "As to this sky's being light, whatever way you desire it, arrange it now," he said to them, "whether there is to be day or to be night for all time, as long as the earth shall endure." Not one of the animals spoke. Bear arose and to the middle of the house he went to speak: "Well, friends, this is the way I think of it: even as I look, that is the way I want this sky to appear, that it may always be night." "Ho, that is bad!" said the old man, "Well, well, well, seek out the way things are to be," he said to them again. No one spoke. After a long while Chipmunk got up: 316 31( ~ Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'nah&'w, neMMtA'k, nina'h dndi'nihtA'MnAn PA8 d',sinA'kuah y6'm kj'sik misi'k YO3M WAni'tipa'h/cAn: jh-an'u'm nite'sasu,'anan disina'ku~akiin; ini'2 kdh ni'nah ei'sis-nitawd'nihtA'rnAn s aw-istna'kuah y6'm kj'8ik; as a-kj',sikah rnisi'lc tah s a-wani'tipd'hkah; niku,'t ahkj'w s aw-itdi'hkua? mama'tsi~tawAk, nikfitu'A.Sitah Ie'8o-?nAlk PAs a'WiWAk, mis8i'lk as a-pip~n6'wik nikiihi 'As3itah s aw-&'witua2 kj's52 -nAk. ini'? ni'4nah a'sis-nAtaWa'nihtAMAn s aw-is3in&'kuah y~m kj's3ic rnisi'k WAnitipa'hkAn, misik s a-n~pin6'wik maisik a-pip.3n6'wik s a-kiw-itd'hku~a? mamd'tsi~ta'wAk dt-s ahk~',w a-taki"k,' ijw&'hin kahki'k as ki'kitit. aki'kuh MAnato'wAk md'wa niw iniwi' n mdini'nihta'hkaa2. w.j'skiWAtu'n! y6'? kdh ni ni'nah ei'sis-niktiwii'nihtAMAn; mni'? ni'nah mdinnu'ApahtA'MAn,' ew& 'hin awd'hseh. ijw&'hin inuh ke~ts-ind'niw. 'nah&'w, nipa'kitend'n ldih n~'yaw,' iw&'hin awdi'hseh; 'j'h-akum mama't8i'?taWAk ldi'aw-mi'tsihsitu'awin mnis w~'kwa2, ldi?tsi'h ni'nah ap mni'? as a-kU-w~'kiyen. mi'rn-nan&?tutsi'nitua? nina-kiw-, mi'hku~tsi'niku~k as wj'kiyAn. mni'? kdihs a-ki-rni'tsihs8i'tua? rnam&' - ts3i?ta'WAk,' iw&'hin misi'k awdi'hseh. 'hi', kAn wes/ciWAt5o,'n!' iuwi'hin lcahki'k. 'h~t'w, a?tati'kun pina'h! inn'h aw-an~'hRwet, ini'? aw-&'wik,' ~w&'hin inuh ke?ts3-ind'niw. nahd'w, iniwi'n tdih s kis-a~ta'titua? awdi'hs3eh rnisi'k tdh kahki'lk. awd'hseh iniu'i'n wi'nah O's: 'tipi'hkAt, tipi'hkAt, tipi'hkAt, tiawi'h~seh s a-wanitipi'hkah ahpdi'n niw; kahki'k ktlt: 'wd'pan, wai'pan, wei'pan, w&'pan, wd'pan, wd'pan, wd'pan, wd'pan, wei'pan, w&'pan!' tipi'hkAt, tIpi'hkAt!' wi'nah ap kahki'k: 'wsi'pan, w&'pan, wdi'pan, wii'pan, wi'pan, w&'pan, wd'pan, w&'panI' - ni'maA?, tipd'h d'hkuah. nik~ti's keh niw awd~'hseh iniwi'n as pd'?tsitvnnd'mit: 'wd'pan!'.~wd'hin awd'hseh. mnA?, p&'pik kjs-w&'panin. awd'hseh iniwi'n-pih k6'tapamd'tsin kahki'kun as an,'hikut, kdi'?tsnehk6'sit; kAti'w-ne?ne'win kahki'kun as ane~'hikut. nim&A?, iniwi'n tdh pi'htik- kahki'k misi'k kutdi'?nas3 s ki-pim~'pah~wdt kAtd'wpayein&'t~sin awi'hSAn. ta'?, awdi'hseh nds8kd'n niw wi'hkihe's5win as wdpeO' tsiw-ahpi'ts-unni'kit. nilk~td'8 ya'hpits ni'w payiind'win awi'hseh. s&'kitsi'pahtuk kahki'k, pim~'nisiha'tsin awa'hselh, w~'kih and'mahkiah iniwi'n s kehtd'?tAt kahki'k. awd'hseh payi'Atit inih ut'iskU'Ahtem awd'hseh, md'wa niw pikuna'min, wd'nehket, kahki'kun td-td'pip~nd'tsin. nik~td's kdih iniwi'n as ni'hni?tAt awdi'hseh. hii'w, pit~s-kjwd'win. payi'tAt ini's s tasjh-md'watsi'hsihkua?, hd'w, mni'? kadh s kjs-an~'hih awa'hs8eh. h&'w, iniwin wd'h tih as ki-wd'pah misi'k teh as ki-WAnitipdi'hkah, misi'k teh nikfItu'Asitah as al'witua? kj's5?nbAk nikut n~'pin as d',wik, misi'k teh as pip~no-'wik nikf'itu'ASitah as 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 317 "Well, friends, the way I think this sky should be and this night; like these markings of mine, that is the way I want the sky to look; that there be day and that there be night; that what human mortals will call a summer may be six months, and that in the winter-time there may be six months. That is the way I want this sky to appear and this night, and that there be summer and that there be winter, as the human mortals will call it, as long as the earth endures," said Chipmunk in his speech. All the animals were pleased with this. Then Bear spoke again: "No, no, that is not well! This is the way I want it; this is the way I find it to be good," said Bear. "Oh, but how will they get along who are to live through the course of time?" asked the old man. "Very well, then I offer up my body," said Bear; "Whenever these mortal men desire to eat there in their dwellings, I shall be living close by. They will seek me by groping with their hands, and feel me out where I dwell. Thus then will mortal men have their food," said Bear again. "Oh my, that is'nt good at all!" said Chipmunk. "Come, have a contest! Whoever wins, his way it shall be," said the old man. So now Bear and Chipmunk contended. Bear said, "Night, night, night, night, night, night, night!" wanting it to be always night; and Chipmunk: "Day, day, day, day, day, day, day, day!" And Bear: "Night, night, night, night, night!" and Chipmunk: "Day, day, day, day, day!" - all night long. But at one time Bear made a slip of the tongue: "Day!" said Bear. Lo, at once it was daylight. Then Bear made a jump for Chipmunk, because he had been beaten by him and was very angry; he wanted to kill him for having defeated him. Chipmunk ran from him, here and there within the house, trying to get away from Bear. You see, Bear could hardly bring himself into a run, so fat was he. Finally Bear was left far behind. Chipmunk ran out of the house, Bear pursuing him, and went into his hole under the wigwam. When Bear got there to Chipmunk's door, he tore it all up, digging to reach Chipmunk and get hold of him. At last Bear gave up. He came back. When he came to where they were holding council, Bear was declared defeated. And that is why there is day now and night, and why there are six months of summer and of winter six months, the whole count of twelve months being called a year, - because Raccoon carried 318 318Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII a witua2 kZ's5?nAk, mdh-md'wa tdh niku,'t pep6'n as itd'meh, rnet4'tah ni's-inZ lce'sonAlc as aki'mihtua2, s ke~s-AnZ'hiwet Ikahki'k. min? s k~s-ki'siht~ku~a2 y6'm teh y6'hpih dsilki'mak-ah pimd'tesiyah. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k- kayi'kitit kee~ts-indi'niw: 'nahd'w, MAndt6'WAk, min? s kjs-kj',si~tayd'k ni'kut aw-inim-is3Z'kima'kah &'ts ahk~w a-taki'k,' indt'win. 'h&'w, kAtdiS tdh undipahti'kun (a"? aw-Znd'htsike'ydk di'ts ahk~w a-taki'k. kinaw-tatldki'pahti'MufAW,' ind'win inuh ke~ts-ind'niw MAnato 'WAn. ha'ta2, Pis~w i'niwin d'ts: 'nahd'w, nina'h kdh wi'nah mamii'tsi2 -'dA &A, kAn PA5 lind'2nanan! MAts8'2-Wi'yAk d'wiw mamed'tsi~taw!' indi'win. 'kA"n, nika'ti-mu,'aw,' ~wd'hin pisZ'w. 'h&'w, h&'w, mdts8i'ah, awMh-ne~si'n! ki'spin pi'nat, kina-mu'aw dts ah~c~w a-taki'lc' in&'win. ha'w, pise~w iniwi'n-pih maya'tSiAt. h&'w, MAMa'tsi~taw kutdi'nas iniwin s wdw~'1cit. WZ'WAn misi'Ic teh unnitsi'Aneh8An uti'hseh8An tdi'wanin; ni'siwAflin uti'hsehSAn. Iui'w, nilc6'tds as i'wik iniwi'n-pih maya'tSiAt MAM&'t-Si~taw as pahfpeZ'it. umd~ti'lkwAn ta'wAnifl mAma'tsi~taw; We'pAn talk6'nin. piipim6'hnet uti'hsehs3An witsiwai'win. h&'w, pisj'w, ini'h umi'hilkan tsiw-&'wik inuh mAmnd'tsi~taw, mi"2ts-me?ti'k iniwi'n as pimdi'hkcihsih, iniwi'n s awMh-ki'Asit pist-'W. piM6'hnenit in's, iniwi'n-pih kd'taw-kutipeima'tsin mam&t'tsi~ta'wAn 5 lCAta'Wne~na'tsin s kAtd'W-MU,'atsin. sdsehkc~'hsih, hA'ta2, ay6' wi'nah MAma'tsi~taw kdi~tsi'h payi'Atdit ani'nuh pi8C'wAfl, iniwi'n-pih wAyipi'tua'? aki'ku~hAnd'm~uk; kehkZ'nawe'WAkin ali'kuh Ana'mukcani'nuh pise'wAn misi mi'hikanih as &'yahkundi'hukutua2. h&'w, Ana'muk iniwi'n.-pih lcayd'ht~si~tA't~a2 piSV'WAn as awZ'h-mik~nj'tua'?. 1ud'w, pise-'w Z'hanum uhp~1kd'1kanan a'yiskUA~t8 tsay~pate'kin, ani'win 1cayjs-k&1ki'tinah; umd'win teh wj'pitih s ktZ's-a~tuk inih uhpkdi'kAn; napd'n misik; ni's tdh W8'-a~ta'win. M&IA, pis~'w mamd&'hwe'pitAn mamii'tsi'?taWAn s kAtd'W- mu'atsin! Ana'muk payiAta'tla'?, iniwi'n pis3e'wtAn mayikdna'tu~a?. h&', wd'htsi'taw iniwi'n as utsi'Anemihih pisj'w. nik~td's kdh Watsi'Anemi'hikut, iniwi'n-pih dhku'ahtawe'pahtvdc me~ti'ku~h s usi'mit. hd', And'muk iniwi'n s kdi'2ts-milkinii'tua2 piWwAn. h&'w, MAM4i'tsi~taw iniwin d'siAt vti'hsehsAn as mi~c~nit. h&t'w, me~ti'kuh ini's dnd'pit MAMat'tsi~taw, niMaA, MdI~ts_-pisj'W iniwi'n as aku,'ahkihsih! MAnud'tsi~taw wi'nah tsi-y6'h-naw~n/ihtd'tin, kaitsi'h payi'Atait, umd'?tikwAn wj'pAn ini'win kis-pimu'atsin piSe'WAn. h&'w, pise~'w pai'pehtsili ahki'hih, Ana'muk aki'k-uh pmi'mn~tsi'Animiha'tu~a2, nik6'tis ayai'wik ini'win kiw&'pahtuk inuh pis~'w. ha'w, payi'Atit ini's s tas3jh-mii'watsi'hsi~hkva2, iniwin d'kut ani'nuh ke~t8-ini'niWAn: 'CIA, 4'ni2 tih inuh MAM4'ts3i~taw? kipi'ma2?') 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 319 off the victory. So now they had completed the way things are in this time when we live. Then the old man spoke again: "Well now, animals, now you have finished one way that things will continue to be so long as the earth shall endure," he said to them. "Now come, select one another for the food you are to eat as long as the earth endures. You will fix your eyes on one another," said the old man to the animals. Well, then Panther' said, "All right, as for me, I am going to eat Man." Thus spoke Panther. "Oh, oh, you can't kill him! Man is a hard one to deal with!" he said to thim. "No, I am going to eat him," said Panther. "Well and good! Go ahead, go kill him! If you bring him, you shall eat him as long as the earth endures," he was told. So now Panther went off. Somewhere dwelt Man. A wife, children, and dogs he had; two was the number of his dogs. Now, at one time Man started out to go hunting. Man had a bow and arrows. As he walked about here and there, his dogs went with him. In the place that seemed to be Man's path there lay a big tree by the way, and there Panther went and hid. He planned to leap upon Man when he walked by, and kill him and eat him. So he lay there, but when Man got near to Panther, the dogs started running; the dogs perceived that Panther was watching for them there by the trail. The dogs broke into a run and went barking at Panther. Now, Panther had pulled out his lowest ribs at both sides, where they were attached; in one place among his teeth he had placed a rib; and at the other side also; two of them he had put there. Large were Panther's teeth for eating Man! When the dogs got there, they attacked Panther. It was really close quarters then for Panther. Finally, when they pressed him too close, he ran up a tree in flight. The dogs barked at Panther all the harder. Man went to the place where his dogs were barking. When he looked up at the tree, lo, there was a big panther lying up on the tree! Man went toward him and when he had got quite near, he shot Panther with his bow and arrow. Panther fell to the ground and the dogs made it hot for him, and at last Panther ran back whence he had come. When he got to where they were holding council, the old man said to him: "Well, where is that Man? Have you got him?" So was Panther addressed. 1 This episode is usually told of the deer, cf. note on, p. 313. 320 3~2O Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII a?', kawin p6'ts uki'kiti'nAn pisj'w. 9?n, Atf39'2 -Wi' yAk a'WiW, kitaka'm; kAn pas kind'2nAnAn,' indi'win pi sj'w. hluiw, ini'?-pih tdh apti'hs3usun kjs-ne'2new pis~'w. h&'w, y6'hpih Uth mitsim~'hseh mini'nihtah mi'tsuahl; pisd'hkiw, apdi'hsus,, ni's, as mi'tsihsit pisj'w. awdt'hseh Ij',s-Mjtsi'u' MAndto'w)An s kAtdw-m'u'atsin; kAn Wi'yAn; mdi'wa niw kis-payd'nik. uaam nnd'k-5w; kAn uwi'"hkiht6'nan s kAtd'wV-Atdmjl'tsin; m&'wva niu' ke-s-payI'nik MAndi6wWAn. hd'w, me'?tiha 'minan his-mi 'tsuah; me'nAnl an6'hkAnan, mJ'w.,a niw kd'k~h WCWAn mi 'tsuah; ni '2 wi 'nah. nahd'ivw, mahwd'w apd'hsusun kt%3i-pimj,'nisihdw. matsnip~Ihseh y6'2 s kes-pim~j'nis3ih&'ts8in. ni'w-inuh 1kes-pimj'nisihdi'win y6'm ke~s-ne~na'tsin. ke?ts-ind'niw: 'ha'wv, mi"i? hdh ki'nah ahpd'n niw aw-ind'htsike'yan hd'ts ahkj'w a-taki'h,' indi'win. y6'hpih t~ih mitsi' niw ape''hisusun. ki-ne'2new as himu'atsin. ini'2. naha'w, uhp~'2tawAk spdi'miah nAmd'?8An kjs-pimj'nisihdi'WAk. hi'w", nAMd'2s mi"i? d'ts: 'huA, kAn PA5 kindi'?2inan; wii~n'i'w nipi'hih and'miah anei'mahhiah ni'nah, mi"? as hoi-ki'Asiyen,' Jwa-'hin nAmd"?8. 'hdi'w, hiiit-m~n!' 'ho'w, h&'w, hil'uw, inih-pih ni'wv pimj'nisihi'n,' indu'win ke'?tsmd' niwv. hd'w, nAmd"?8 sd'kitsipahta'win; winah a'p uhp~"?ta'w spu'miah u~mu"?nak a'8iAt; spd'miah nAmd"?8An tsj"?napumd'win nipi'hih pimRtsime'nit. hjA y, nAmd"?s an&'miah nipi'hih wa'?n&'w min? s awT-'h-ki'As3it. hu'w, inuh uhpJ"?taw spd,'miah min? as i't, ts'?napvum&'tsin; ahhei'hih ana'rniah ini's ndwd'wv sehkj'hsine'nik. hu'w, tipd'h misi as i'nit, spd'miah misik, umi"'? d'8i'?tAt uhpj"?,taw rntisi'h teh, uhkh&'tAn nine"? d'ninah s kAtd'w-td'pipona'tsin. nAmd"?s s muk/.-,sdi'sehhku'hsih uma'nahah as anui'pit and'mipih, 6A, mi"i? as nu~wa'tsin and'miah imi's uhpj'2tawan lcAtdi'w-td'pipu'nikut! nAmd"?sq mi"?pih uma'nahah spu'miah d'8iAt. ahpd'n niw ndwd'w anui'miah imi's um5'tih td-td'pipunikhnt nipi'hih; ahpd.'n niw wahk-j'ts nipi'hih wahh-i'tsgipik umd"?nak W'SiW. nik5'tas8saa?yd'h nip~'uw inih y6"?-p~ih niw ayd'wih; hu'w, ini"?-pih inuh uhp~"?taw h6'tapamu'tsin, nipi'hih t& 'pip~nd'win nAmdt"?8An, awaini'tsin. kius-pi-nu'win nuh het-inu'niw as i't. 'hu'w, mi"i? huh hi'nah aw-inii'htsike'yan uts akhi~' a-taki'k,,' inu'w uhpej"?tcaWAn. nAma"'?8An tuh ki-rni'WAk nhpj,'2taWAk y6'hpih. hu'w, misi'k mihkhu'ndh mihu'un kus-pim~'nisihuw as kAtdwmu' atsin. hu-'w, khi-pimj'Aisih~t6'WAk. mik~' nipi'hih kjs-ind' 1 One expects mini'nihtam as mn'tsikc. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 321 Panther did not speak at all. "Yes, he is a hard one to deal with; that is what you were told; you can't kill him," Panther was told. Then Panther killed Deer. To this day the panther likes to eat meat: cattle and deer, these two the panther eats. Bear started off to eat some animal; but there was none for him; everyone outran him. He was too fat; he could not overtake them; all the animals outran him. So he took to eating acorns; blueberries, raspberries, and all kinds of fruit he eats; that is his share. Wolf pursued Deer; by a big lake, that is where he pursued him. Four times he pursued him round this lake. At the fourth time he overtook him. Then he killed him. Said the old man to him: "Very well, this is what you shall always eat, as long as the earth endures." And to this very day he kills and eats deer. That is the way it is. The Birds on high pursued Fish. Fish said: "Oh, you can't kill me; I am used to hiding far under the water, way down below," spoke Fish. "Well, I am going to eat you!" "Very well, very well, pursue him right now," the old man said to him. Fish ran out of the wigwam; Bird rose up into the air; from up there he watched Fish swimming along in the water. Well, Fish went and hid way down under the water. Bird was up aloft watching him; he saw him as he lay down there on the bottom. He was exactly below, and so Bird went, like this, in the air and turned his claws, like this, intending to seize him. As Fish was lying there, he looked down toward the bottom of the water, and lo! there, down below, he saw Bird making ready, to seize him! So then Fish went upward. He kept seeing him down below there in the water, making ready to seize him at his belly. So he kept going upwards in the water, toward the surface. Finally there was only about this much water over him; then Bird swooped upon Fish, snatched him from the water, and carried him off. He brought him to where the old man was. "Very well; this, then, is what you shall eat as long as the earth endures," said he to Bird. And so now birds eat fish. Also Turtle pursued Otter, wishing to eat him. So they ran in flight and pursuit, and Otter ran into the water, fleeing because 21 322 322Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII wim~w as UsWMit; mihkdnd'hkun lcAta'w-ne~nik kAtdW-M6'kvt. mihwdi' niw 1c8-papd'm-isiu, rnikc'k, mihldi'ndh ni'2 niw uti'h s kUspimi'm-tdt, pime~'nisiha'tsin mikPt-'kun. hd'w, wdhtsita' kini's U~spiMj'nisih~t5'WAk. h&'w, payi'Atua9 inuh ke~ts3-inei'niw mnis as i', ini'? tdih s kjs-AtdMd'tsin mihldi'ndh,. k#~s-Ikutsi'Ahkat5'WAk mihka'ndh mikjYkun. hd'w, tdi'pi puniti'tua2, rnihkd~'n~h tat&'hkesiw; kUtSi'Ahkati'tua? kiw-ahpd&'kinew mikU'kunq. nirnzdA, kini's kH8-kutsi'AhkcatowAk; ahpd'n niw kHs-ahpa'kinauw mik~k, pai'n niw. y&'h pits sa~yii'h Wj'2sakesi'w w~'8 mik-~'k as ahpd'kenih. niketd's mini as k-js-ni'hni~tAt mikj'k, nayd'nikutu'hlcin ki-ne'2niew miki'kun W~spin s td'pipunii'tsin mihldi'ndh, s kU8-At d~Md't-sin. ini2 wd'h s nepd'lkikeh inih We's mikj'k, ahpd'n s k~8-ahpd'kinih. h& 'w, sak*imd'wv: 'mAma 'tsi~taw nikdi'ti-rinaw,' jwd'hlin. IdAh, nani 'snesi 'w!' jw&'hin kd~ts-indt'n~w. 'kA'n, nik&'ti-mwaw!' '5Ah, nalhi'w, Mdtsi'Ah; nit~n&'hin,' ind'win sak~md'w. miitsi'win nit~ndlhi'tsin mama tsi~tawan. d'?, nik6'tds iniwi'n s mehkd~w&'tsin s wj'kinit. h&'w, salkj'mdiw nawjnd~huu'win mAMii'tsi2 -tawAn; uhpi'hkwAnih iniwi'n sakj'mdw as urdi'pit as patsj's8kaha'tsin, mama'tsi~tawAn. &A, mehki'h y&'hpits tdpinii'Wiln. kayjs-tdi'pinit, iniwi'n-pih may&'tSiAt sak~madw. pa yi'At at imi's ke~ts-ind"'niwAn, niM&A2, saki'mdw ydhpi'ts mftskinepi'win mehki'h payi't~k. 'ha'w, y6'2 kdih kina'h ap aw-ind'htsike'yan,' ina'w~in sakj'mdw. Md'w, y6'hpih teh kiki-m6'kunaw as ki-pats~kaho'nah. Ihd'w, mdndi'WAk; hiiw, ini'? tipd'h kay~s-isi'kitua2 mAnato'WAk, ini'h-pih s kis-naniti'tua2. ini'? md'waw. 93. RACCOON AND WOLF. SECOND VERSION. (Md'8inik&'puwiw.) nahu'w, ahsipA'n Idih piipem~hne'win. s mdi'k-pem5'hnet niw, kAniwi'n niw naya-wa'tsin imis mmin'?, as pi'tuhnet maIhwd'w. iniwi'n dine'nihtah di'hsi pan: 'ski'n tdih nikei'ta-pu'a2-nita'taMA'kin' ldi'k~h kd'ta-me-'tsik ayu,'m mahwdi'w,' ind'nihtA'min di'hsi pAn. iniwi'n-pih ini's tsiw-awjh-und'pit s me~'sjt. kay~s-ani'h-me'se~t, iniwin-pih kC6'hkcj2tAt s utdi'hpinah ini'h umi'h, pahki'sildi'hsAn a,& hoiw, iniwin-pih teik tsi-wd'puhnet s miy&'Ihkiwa'tsin tfih aninuh mahwd'WAn. td'?, mahwd'w ta'2 pi'tuhne'win. iniwi'n tih di'ts inuh mahwei'w: 'IA, nehs~'2, y6'sa2 niw J.'n~w ki'nah ap as piipem6'hneyAn?' ~wa'kin mahwdi'w. 1The quotative here may be a slip of the tongue; one should expect interrogative. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 323 Turtle wanted to kill and eat him. Turtle pursued him. Otter went under water; here and there and everywhere went Otter. Turtle kept close at his heels, in his pursuit of Otter. For a long time indeed they ran in this chase. Just as they got to where the old man was, Turtle overtook him. Turtle and Otter came to a clinch and wrestled. When they laid hold of each other, Turtle was the stronger; in their wrestling he kept throwing Otter. Oh, a long time they wrestled; always Otter got thrown, every time. Otter's head ached terribly from his being thrown. Finally Otter gave up. So now once in a while the turtle kills otters, if he overtakes them and succeeds in getting hold of them. That is why the otter's head is flat, because he always got thrown. Mosquito said: "I want to eat Man." "Oh, but he is a dangerous creature!" said the old man. "Just the same, I am going to eat him!" "Oh, very well, go ahead; look for him," Mosquito was told. He went off and looked for Man. At last he found him where he dwelt. So Mosquito sneaked up to Man; he sat down on his back, and jabbed him. He got a splendid fill of blood. When he had got his fill, Mosquito departed. When he got back to the old man there, lo and behold, Mosquito was entirely full of the blood that he was bringing with him. "Very well, this is the way you will eat," Mosquito was told. So, to this very day he stings and eats us. Well, they are many; even thus then did the animals fare, what time they held their feast. That is all. 93. RACCOON AND WOLF. SECOND VERSION. (Misinikapuwiw.) Raccoon was walking about. As he walked along, he saw Wolf on ahead there, walking toward him. Then Raccoon thought: "I daresay there's no chance of his failing to ask me for something to eat, this Wolf!" So then he went and sat down and eased himself. When he had eased himself, he turned round and picked up his dung, and made two little cakes. Then he tucked them into the bosom-fold of his robe. Then he started to walk to meet Wolf. For Wolf was coming towards him. Wolf said: "Hello, my younger brother, so here you are, walking about?" 21* 324 324Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Yi',I' indt'win ta2 WihSi pAn. CdA.nehsj'2, kawi'nalcAt na'p kdi'k~h pd'mi-nimed'yen mdi'nawats3?' 9a, ind'win d'hsi pAn, 'pahki',sikd'hs8Ak kd-h ni's nisi'k niw nipd'mini'mam.' ~56, nehs3j'2, ini? ni tdpd'nih 5 pas Wwik, ki'spin ahsa'mi yen.' h&'w, iniwi'n-pih kd'tinatsin 4'hsi p~n upa~hki's3ikd'hsiMAn s ind'sinam~wa'tsin. hdt'w, utd'hpinewin mahwd,'w s di'2ts-mu'at~in. lcayes-litad'muatsin: I&A, ii? kdh wdwti'nin, nehsj'2, $ 1cs-ahsJ'miyen. mni's teh wi'nah nina-papd'm-md'hnu-pap&'muhnem,' jw&'hin mahwd'w. I&A? kdh! P ind'win d'hsi pAn. h&'w, iniwi'n sa0yd'h as md'ts8iat mahwd'w. d'hsipAn wina'h ap mdt3i 'win.,skAs niw i'hPih inis payyA'tat d'hsipAn, Jpam~'Dtawin tsj"?napAma'tsin mahwd'wAn. iniwi'n-pih k-ayj'kit~tawa'tsin: 'mahWdA! hWdA?I w'i mhdw 'hwd.? jw&'hin mahwii'w. Cnhimhkijtn.'n'wn '6hJ jw&'hin mahwd'w. ta?, iniwt/n sa~yd'h misik8 5Md't-SiAt mahwd'w, wi'nah ap Wh'hip~n Ma'tSiAt. iniwi'n s tsiw-inim-und'pumatsin; md'ts3-askih iniwin s tsj'pat~sih ke?ts3i'h niw. iniwi'n-pih misilc ayd'pam~'2tat, kj'kitutawa'ts3in misik mahwd,'wAn: CmahwjdA, nimi'h kime~'sin!' ind' win. 'h yjAy, thw, thw, thw!'1I jwd'hin mahwd'w, 'kind'?nin, d'hsi pAn!' jwd'hin mahwd'w, tsi-1kdhtsi'net. hd'w, d'hsi p~n wi'nah ap kdhtsi'2newin, as8kd'hkun aninuh nd'tinetuand'tsin, inim-ahku"ahtawe'pahtuk-. mahwd'w iniwin sa~yd'h mnis s piAtdi'WiPd'htuk; tsiw-inim-isp~'2tW mahwd'w, md'nawats niw inim-n6'nipund'win. ha', iniwi'n kdh 4'hsipAn inim-ahku'ahtawet, spd'miah iMis awjh-d'yapit. hd'w, mahw&'w wi'nah ap iniwi'n niw ts#jk&'htik- s8'yapit s k&d'kanapuma'tsin anuh d'hsipAnAn. h&'w, iniwin sa?yd'h s nehkd'h, d'hsi p~n iniwi'n sa~yd'h s nikd'mit: 'MAWe', kinehtanipd'nun, mAwj', kcinehtaniPd'nvn!' iniwin d'nahah. Iu'w, iniwi'n sa?yd'h misik &'sit mahwd'w s nilci'mit: 'dsipd'n, kind'htanipa-'nun, dsip&'n, kind'Ata-nipa'nun!' 1 Aspirated dental explosive with lip-rounding, to represent noise of spitting. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 325 "Yes," Raccoon answered him. "Oh, brother, can it be that you have a little something with you in the way of provisions?" "Yes," said Raccoon to him, "I have just two little cakes along for lunch." "Oh, little brother, that would be quite enough, if you would give them to me!" So Raccoon took out his little cakes and handed them to him. Wolf took them and ate them with zest. When he had finished eating them, "Ah, that's fine! Thanks, little brother, for having given me food. Over there now I shall walk about and be comfortable," said Wolf. "First rate!" said Raccoon. So away went Wolf, and Raccoon did the same. When Raccoon had got a ways off, he faced about and watched Wolf. Then he addressed him: "Woo-oolf!" "What?" asked Wolf. "You ate my dung!" he said to him. "What?" asked Wolf. "I say, our younger brothers must have been going by here," said Raccoon to him. "Oh, yes!" answered Wolf. So now again Wolf started off and Raccoon, also, started off. As he went along, he picked out a big white-pine that stood there, close by. Then he again wheeled about and addressed Wolf: "Wolf, you ate my dung!" he told him. "Fie! Ptew, ptew, ptew!" went Wolf. "I'll kill you, Raccoon!" said Wolf, starting into a run. Raccoon, too, broke into a run, rushed up to that white-pine, and ran up the tree. Wolf got there on the run; he threw himself aloft, and by only a little missed him as he grabbed. Raccoon kept on climbing and found a seat way up high. Wolf sat down right at the foot of the tree, keeping watch over Raccoon. Soon night came, and then Raccoon sang: "Wolf, first shalt 'ee sleep, Wolf, first shalt 'ee sleep!" That was what he sang. Then Wolf in turn sang: "Raccoon, first shalt 'ee sleep, Raccoon, first shalt 'ee sleep!" 326 326Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hd'w, iniwi'n kah tipdih di'hkwa'h ayi'suh s nika'mitua2. kayes'MAWe', lkind'htanipft'nun, MAWe', lcind'htanip&'nun, ni'n m6's kit6 '8imd'men.'1 hd'w, mahwd' iniwi' n niw wi' nah ap: '&iipd'n, kindi'htanipd'nun, dsipd'n, kind'htanipa-'nun.. ni'n m6'ts kit's3ima'men!' &A, ini2 8a~yd'h s ts'k-wd'pah. ndskdi'n ni ki-kd'1kito5'win mahwa'w, tsqi-kakii'hkwa~sit. sa~ydi'h pd'mi-pa'tslcapah, iniwi'n 8a~ya'h kAxn s kdi'kitit mahwd'w, sa~ydi'h ts3i-1kj's-niPdt. nahd'2s ni'w a"'hsipAn tli'tani 'tamin. ha'w, iniwi'n tdih andi'nihtah d'hsipAn: 'ini'? kdh lkAna'pats tsikN's-nipdt ayu'm mahwd'w,' ind'nihtA'min. iniwi'n 8a~y4'h s nim-&'pilcu'ahtawet; ksdi'2tin nawd'win imi's sehkWhsine'nik ts,1cki'htik. d'hsi p~n ini2-pih wAnadka'hkvn tsi-p&'pAkuna'tsin mnis; iniwin htih s pAkctmd'tsin anuh mahwd'WAn. h.i'?, kawin p6's nap uts39'pi~tanan inu,'h mahwdiw. 'h&'w, ini'? kdh s tsi-k~'s-nipdt,' ind'nihtAmin WihsipAn, sa~yd'h tsi-pinvj'?tat. 'ta'nitulck yi5'm pas dihpina'nak ayu,'m mahwdw?' in4'nihtA'min d'hsi pAn.; ha'w, ini? sa?ydi'h tsi-mehkcdw4'nihtah kdi'taw-ihpd'nanatsin. 'nah&'w, pikc~'w nina-papdi'm-nit~ndt'hdw.' h&A, Idi'?tin iniwi'n s mehkdwd'tsin pilce'WAn. kaye-s-pa'1pakunii'tin, iniwin-pih tsi'-pyAt misi'k mahwa'w as sehkN'hih, us8kj'hsikcuh tih nuh mahwd'w misi s 8is6'mam~wdi'tsin anuh pik~wAn. kayjs-pd"t8-.,sis6'nam6'wd'tsin, ini?-pih kuta'?nas tsiw-isis-md'tsyAt winah WihsipAn. ha'w, nk~tdi's sa~ydt'h tsi-kusk6sit ma'huidw. nmui'?, as t4-ntdwd'pi't, icAn uw~'hkihtu,'nan; y&'hpi'ts niw kawi'n undi'minan. 'Ana mikut d'hSipAn! in?'? kdh kdi'k~h s kj#s-t5'tawit,' indi'nihtAmin pas nima'ts3iAm ldih.' nipj'w as tandi'nihtah iniwi'n-tdh-nakah c'5iAt. s md'lk-pim6'hnet, kAniwi'n niw pd?tni'hkihsih me~ti'kwAn. '~A, nimehs6'?, wd~sj'kiw aydi'wi yen?' jwa'hin mahwd'w. iniwi'n tdih dind'tsin mahwd'w: 'haA, nimahs65'?, tsi'k si'piah ikikitdts3~'pat~sind'mipah?' ind'win. C~A, mahw&'w, ta? di's-kittimdkV yen? kAn p6'ts tip&'puminei'kWAtun kut4'?nAs nipj'w,' jwa'hin inuh me'?tik. 1 Informant says these songs are in Potawatomi~. For the last line he gives the obviously correct gloss: nind"? neh&sU'h klitd'wim. More literal would be: ni'nah lkeh 1kit3'h8imemin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 327 That was the way they sang by turns all night. When it was past midnight, Raccoon again sang: "Wolf, first shalt 'ee sleep, Wolf, first shalt 'ee sleep, * As you're my younger brother!" And then Wolf too: "Raccoon, first shalt 'ee sleep, Raccoon, first shalt 'ee sleep; As you're my younger brother!" By that time day was breaking. Wolf could scarcely utter a sound for sleepiness. By the time full daylight had come, Wolf was no longer using his voice; he must have been asleep. Raccoon was noising it there all by himself. Then Raccoon thought: "And now this Wolf has probably gone to sleep." So now he climbed downwards and sure enough, he saw him as he lay there stretched out at the foot of the tree. Then Raccoon peeled off a piece of bark there; with it he hit Wolf. No, Wolf did not even budge. "Well, so now he has gone to sleep," thought Raccoon, descending. "I wonder what I shall do to this Wolf?" Soon in his mind he hit upon the mischief he would do him. "Well, I shall look round for some rosin." He found the rosin, as he expected. When he had pulled it off, he went back to where Wolf was lying, and into Wolf's eyes he rubbed the rosin. When he had rubbed it well into his eyes, Raccoon went off wherever he was going. After a while Wolf woke up. Dear me, when he wanted to open his eyes, he was not able; he could not see at all! "Confound that Raccoon! So now he has done something or other to me!" thought Wolf. "What's going to happen to me now? Well, suppose I go away from here." He went in the direction where he thought there was water. As he was walking along, he suddenly bumped into a tree. "Oh, Grandfather, what sort of creature are you?" said Wolf. "I am a Maple," said the tree. Then Wolf said to him: "Oh, Grandfather, you are wont to stand by the river-side, are you not?" "Oh, Wolf, what pitiful speech is that you are speaking? There is no water anywhere in sight," said the tree. 3 28 328Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII huow, iniwi 'n saya'h misik s wdt'puhnet mahwdi'w. nkc6'tds misi'k s nim-mdik-pem5'hnet, kAniwi'n ni'w misilc pitd'hkihsih. adnimehs6'2, wa?8e' kiw ay&1'wi yen?' 'hd'w, ani'p nitd'wim.' 'hd'w, nimehW6', tsik si'piah kiki-tdts'pAtsindi'mipah?' WhAh, mahwd'w, ta2 dt's-kitdmdki'yen? kAn p6'ts tapa'pAmina'kuwAfun ni'p~w.' iniwi'n k&dh niw hpd'n ni kay&s-inim-isZ'kit, mei'wa ni niw me~tikWA'n as tsi-kj's-nim-pe,?td'hlihsih. 1ud'w, nik~tdi's 8a~yi'h misilc 'h', nimeh86'2, wdts~'kiw ayii'wi yen?' 1h~h nimeh86'2, tsik si'piah kikci-tdtsj'patsindi'mipah?' ind'win mahwd'w. 'i, tapa'pamina'kwAt niwv &'n~w nipe-'w,' iku'ahin. min? sa~ydi'h misik as tsi-wd'puhnet mahwd'w. nik~td's misik 'hdiA, nimehs6'2, wdi~sZ'kiw ay&'wi yen?' 'kiniisi'2sikapAWih nitd'wim.' 'h4A, nimehs6'2, tsik sipiah kikiw-tdtse'patsind'mipah?' ind'win mahwd'w. 'hAumd'2 niw Yom pdi'mihneh 8~'p~w,' ind'win mahwli'w. h&'w, iniwi'n 8a~yti'h misik s tsi-md'tyAt. s mdik-pim5'hnet mahwi' w, nk~td's niw s y&'tanei'hkit, ini'win s pAnhihki'slkah. 'ts6Ah!' is~'h8ini'n mahwdi'w. hd'w, kay&s-ni'pi~tAt mahwd'w, iniwin 8a~yii'h s wd'puhnet. iniwi'n-pih ndi'kAmit: 'kti'ni d'hkuha'md-nn-, tu'hkani tuhkdW'n1? 'hdiAh, kipd'hkikanii'kanih,' ind'win. h&'w, misik tsi-Ma'tsiAt: 'td'ni d'hkuha'minj,, h&'w, misik tsi-ma'tsyAt: tu'hkni t'huhka'mne? tu'hkdni tuhka'nj~?' 1Informant's explanation: tdi'2 tdh d'hlwAhaman? 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 329 So Wolf again started walking. After a while, as he walked along, again he knocked into something solid like wood. "Ho, Grandfather, what sort of creature are you?" "Hello! I am a Rock-Elm." "Well, Grandfather mine, are you not accustomed to stand by the side of the river i" "Oh, Wolf, what pitiful speech is that of yours? Not at all is water in sight." And so he always fared as he went along, bumping into every kind of tree. Finally again he bumped into a tree: "Hey, Grandfather, what sort are you?" "A River-Maple am I." "Alas, Grandfather mine, are you not wont to stand by the river's edge?" Wolf asked him. "Yes, of course, there is water right in sight," the other told him. Now Wolf started walking again. Again he bumped into a tree: "Alas, Grandfather, what kind of creature are you?" "I am a Willow." "Alas, Grandfather mine, are you not wont to stand by the river's edge?" Wolf ask him. "Yes, of course, right here is this river running by," Wolf was told. So now again he started off. As Wolf was walking along, once, as he took a step, he missed solid ground. "Splash!" went Wolf as he fell. He got up and started to walk. And now he sang: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" he said. "Why, up to your ankles," he was told. He started off again: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" "Why, up to your knees," he was told. Off he went again: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" "Why, up to your waist,"1 he was told. Again he started off: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" 1Anthropomorphic, as throughout. 6 0A 330 ~~3O Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl l Vol. XII ' d h, Ikinad'hkih,' ind'win. h&'w, misilk tsi-ma'ts8yAt: 'ta'ni d'hkuha'miin~, tui'hlkdni tuhkd'n.j?' dA~, kit5'nih!' hd'w, misi'lk s tsi-wd'puhnet: 't&'ni di'hkcuha'man - Iku'p!"ini? as Ic8-ani'wi pit. hd'w, mni'? tdh s ni'pdk, tsi-uwd'pipu'lkit nu'alk6w. nu'Ial6w imis ini'? s tsi-wdw~'lkit ke~ts-ind~ni'ahseh 1kikj'h niw witswe'yAwe'lkehlkun; utii'?napiman tOh tsi-lki'w-a~ne'win nis sipiah inuh lke?ts-ind'niuw. ta'?, inuh mahwd'w s wai'pipulkit, payiAta'wipulcit inis, ini? s tsi-pitd'hahsit inuh mahwd'w. hdi'w, ay6 lke?ts,,-indini'a~hseh WAya'pah mi'p tsi-ma'tsyAt nd'ta?n,5ndikanet ta'?napiman. payi'Atdt misi, iniwin-pih s s~wi'Ikina'tsin anuh utii'?napiman. hd A, kawin P6'ts nap ukd'tislcin&'nan! h&'w, ini? sa?ydi'h ts9iw-6h6'hima'ts3in ani'nuh Wjts-Wj'yAwjkehlcun: I~y wjyAw~kd~Ah, pyAnUi-An! wi yAk 8eIki'w pita'hahs5w! pis-nai'tam5 -wina?!' ind'win aninuh wjt8-wj'yAwj'kehkun. ma'?, inuh we'yAwelceh wd'htsta kd'?ti"n iniwi'n pis3-kd'?ts3-ma'tWAt kayi'8-pis3-p'Atd'wipahtu~k: 'wd?sj'ki tdh ayd'wit?' ind'win. 'jn4Ak; WeyAk is~kiw tsiw-d'wiw; kusd AkWAn!' ind'win. h&'w, iniwin sa?yd'h inuh WCeyAWekehko'hseh as na'tam~wd'tsin kd'?ts-indni'AmAn s akcuatdi'tsimatua?. md'? tdh mahwd'w! dA, Wj' yAWjkeh, Ikisdwd'nihtalkusi?!' ind'wi"n anuh w~jts-Wj'yAW~'kehk~un. Md'w, iniwi'n kdh as wZ'naniha'tua?. m&', nana'h-paka'tsika'm~win mahwd'w. ''w WeyAWj'keh, kina-n&'siwe?.' ind'win aninuh wets-we' yAwe' - k-ehkun inuk ke?ts-indni'Ahseh. hA'w, ini?-pih tsiw-dyiwatdi'?situa?, wi'kuwa? as isiAnd'tua?. w~'ki kah md'waw piAtd'wihe'wAlkin. ha'w, iniwin sa?yd'h s undsi'Ahkitua? s td-nd'siwet inuk ke?ts-ind'niw. kay&s-ki'sisi'Ahkit, iniwi'n sa?yd'h uto'8kApd'wihsiman tsiw-an6 -na'tsin: 'naha'w, papdi'm-n&'siwe'nun,' nd 'win ani'nuh ut6'skapdi'wihsiman. I Strongly labialized k. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 331 "Why, up to your armpits," he was told. Again he started off: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" "Why, up to your neck," he was told. So then again he started off: "How deep am I in, Am I in, am I in?" "Why, up to your mouth!" When he started again to walk: "How deep am I- -" "Gulp!" and the water closed over him. So then he died and started to float downstream. Downstream there lived a little old man along with the old woman, his wife, and into that river this old man used to place his net. So, when that Wolf got to drifting, he drifted to that place, and there got snared. Early the next morning the little old man went out to look over the catch in his net. He got there and pulled at his net. Why, he could not lift it at all! So now he whooped for his wife: "Hey, wife, come here! Some beast has got snared! Come help me!" he called to his wife. Oh, truly did the old woman start in a hurry to come. When she had come running all the way: "What kind of creature is it?" she asked him. "I don't know; some kind of animal it must be; it's heavy enough!" he said to her. Then the little old woman helped her husband drag it out of the water. Lo, it was a wolf! "Why, wife, we are in luck!" he said to his wife. So then they flayed and cut it up. Oh, nice and fat was the wolf! "Well, wife, we will give a feast," said the little old man to his wife. Then they hauled their load of game little by little, bringing it to their dwelling. With a good deal of trouble they got it all there. Then they prepared their cooking for the feast the old man was going to give. When he had finished cooking, he gave orders to his servant: "Now, then, go about and give the invitation," he said to that servant of his. 1 Cf. first version. 332 332Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n kah s Ma'tsiAt, md'wa niw wiyAk ise-'kiwAk, awdi'hSAk apd~'hsusuk, ma wa ni wi' yAk ise'kiw as n&'nih. khd'w, iniwi'n sa~ydh s pyA't inuh uskdpdt'wis8: 'hd'w, ini'? ldih ma'waw s ke-s-papa'Im-nAtu7'makcua,' jwd'hin inuh skiijk'wis. ta'?, kjsdi'ts kis-a?ne'win mnis undi'kanih aninuhkIdi'ta-nd'siwet misilk inih pimj'h; md'ts-una-'kan, me?tik-unM'kan iniwi'n s m6'skinilk ini'h pimjh. h~t'w, iniwi'n sa?yd'h s pyA'tua? nanii'wAk, pi'htikawane'titua?. md'wa niw is~h-MAnd'tw k&~-nind' win. ma'wa kayjs-pi'htikce'tua?, hdi'w, ini? sa?yah s lki'kitit inuh nay&'siwet: 'nah&'w, kindi'nine'muAW nii'p ayum kayjs-sdiwd'nihtaku~se'yah YhA-ayu, ni'ts-kitskiw,' ijwd'hin inuh ke~ts-indni'Ahseh. 'ini'? tiih -sa?yd'h as a-mi'tsihsiydk1,' ind'win. hM'w, iniwin-pih mayi'tsihsitua? alciluh niind'WAk.,siwet: 'nahdi'w, ejh-y~m d'?tik und'kanih pim~'h, ini'? sa? yak as a-wei'pi?tayeik, awdi'? inuh aw-ind'nihtah mise-wd' niw as aw-und'lkit y6'm s kAtd'w-inim-mdtsi'hkamikah,' jwd'hin inuh nayd'siwet. hd'w, pd'pilk sii'hkih pimi'w-ahpdi'1is5'win ini's Und'Ikanih. 'hd'w, nine'? kcih misj'wd niwv aw-uni'ki yen,' &,w&'hin inuk sa'hkih. CsiAh! inuh wvinah akuapi'nehkun; windi'kami'skam~wdw ini' - niwAn!' iniwi'n-pih pii'mi-akuapi'nih sa'hkih. ha'w, ini?-pih tsi-si'nipinih. 'ma nawats mnis pd'hsipinam6'hkun ini'h pimM~; uwdipi'hkumih inis sis~nam6'hkun,' ind&'win sd'hkih. h~hwd-'h, ini? kdh, kute'?nas awjh-und'pewin s8Xhkih. Iiii'w, ini'? sa?yeh awd'hs3eh: 'nahi'w, nine'? kdh misjwdi' niw aw-unii'ki yen.' iniwi'n-pih pd'mi-kihtdpi'?tat; sd'kihkli'htsinin tdh nisi'k niw. h&'w, iniwin-pih jpd''mi-aku'a?tat. nahd'w, misik apd'hsus,: 'nah&'w, umd'? kdih ni'nah ap nihpa'niah as aw-un&'ki yen, misik nihpdi'hkWAnih 'misik nisi'kanih,' jwa'hin apd'hs3us. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih sd'sunam~h inih p-imj'h. kikjh mis~wd'' niw mAnd'tow di'htahsit, kjs-ini-wj'htamin mnis as kAtd'w-inim-und'kit. hd'w, iniwin sa?yah md'waw kayejs-md'?tsihsi'hkua?; ha'w, iniwin-pik misi'k kayi'kitit inuh nayei'siwet: 'nah&'w, ini'? kdh sa?yad'h as pas un&'?,sutsildi'ydk kd'taw-is~kimakah as kAta'W-iniM-Matsi'hkamikah,' ejw&'hin inuh nii'siwew. h&'w, kahkik6'hseh kutd'?nas mnis d'yapi'win, k~di'kitit: 'naihi'w,' jwdi'hin kakkik6'hseh, 'pits-tsj'?napa'htamu'kun anum nitii'sa?8WAnan,' ~wa'hin kahki'ke. niku't tdh inih miyii'wihkaw inih uta'sa?swAn kiatd'win; us6'hseh inik iniwi'n pd'taku,'ahilket. lu'w, iniwin-pik tsay~?napd'htam~wii'tua? awd'tukAk. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 333 So off he went, and all kinds of creatures, such as bears, and deer, every living creature was invited. Soon the servant came: "Now I have called them all, in every place," said the servant. Already beforehand the host had placed the wolf into a vessel, and the fat too; a big vessel, a wooden bowl, was entirely full of the fat. Soon came the guests, filing into the dwelling. Every kind of animal had been invited. When they had all come inside the dwelling, then the host spoke; "Now then, we are inviting you to partake of this creature which we, this old wife of mine and I, have received as our small share of good fortune," said the little old man. "And now you are to eat," he told them. So then the guests ate their meal. When they had finished eating, the host again spoke: "Now, as to the fat that is in the vessel, now you will begin to bring it about that whosoever wishes it shall be fat all over his body, through all the future course of this world," said the host. At once Mink went and threw himself into that tub: "Well, I, for my part, I am going to be fat all over," said Mink. "Fie! Pull that fellow out of there; with his whole body he is dirtying that liquid for mankind!" Then they went and Mink was taken out of his bath. "Wring him out!" was said of him. So then he was wrung out. "Just give him a little touch with the fat; at the crotch there smear him a bit," was said of Mink. Poor Mink, he went and sat down someplace or other. Then came Bear: "I am going to be fat all over." He went and dipped himself in the liquid, and lay soaking with only his head sticking out. Then he came out of the vessel. Then Deer: "Here on my breast is where I am going to be fat, and on my back and on my rump," said Deer. So then he was smeared on these parts with the grease. Everyone of the animals, as many as they were, one after another told where he wanted to be fat. Then in time no more were left; then the host again spoke: "Now then, it is time for you to plan and arrange how things are to be throughout the future course of the world," said the host. Little Chipmunk sat somewhere in that place, and now called out: "Well then," said Little Chipmunk, "come look at these markings of mine!" Thus spoke Chipmunk. But the one of his markings that is right in the middle, he hid; with his little tail he covered it. Then the animals looked at his markings. 334 Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'alc'htamu'kun aninuh nt&'sa~swanan,' jw&'hin kahlki'lc, 'ni '2 a-tahsi'tu~a? Ik's5?nAk nZ'pino 'wik; misi'k as a-pep~n6'wik ini'? ni mis8'i'k a-tahsi'tua?,' jwd'hin kahlci'k. ho'w, iniwi'n s~ aki'htahkua? awd'tulkAk. 'dA, kdi~ti'n ni'w undm5'w ay6' k~ahki'Ic,' jw&'kin awdi'tukAk; 'hdi'w, ini? Idih niw Idi'2tin awis~'kimakah aw-inim-d'ts-ahki'-taki'k,' ~wd'kin MAndt'uAk. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih misik kayi'kitit inuh nayd'siwet: 'h&'w, ini'? winah y6'm s kisTi'hkwAnA'mdk. umdi'? tiih mi'sik aw-isj'kimakcah, s pas niw-wdwd'pah; ini'? misilc aw-una-'?85tA'mdk,' ~wd'hkin inuh nayd's8iwet. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih ini's wdh-ki'kitit awdi'hseh: 'nah-d'w, y6'm idik ni 'nah d'sinAkusj' yen as aptj'8ine 'yan, ini'? aw-inim-isin& 'kwah as aw-inim-matsi'hkarni'kah,' ~w&'hin awdt'hseh. 'ay6-' tiih mamai'tsi'?taw kispin dind'niht&'hkin as a-kAtd'-nii'wit, nina-ki-pimi'"-tehnan&'2tutsi'nik,' ~wa'hin awdi'hseh. 'haAh, kindt'nawat-sini'niwdAtesiMit? tsiyd'?ninih inUh MAM&'tsi?taw, ini? ni'w as pas ne'?nat,' ind'win awad'hseh. &Ata?, 'ini'? kdh ni'w ni'nah dind'nihtA'MAn,' ~w&'hin awdi'hseh. ay6' tdh kahlci'lc in6'win kaye-s-pahku'ahkunik&'sit wi'nah as a'w-a?tawd'tsin ani'nuh awd'hSAn. kUs-we-'tsitehami'lkin tdh awd"'tukAn as aw-anj'hiwet inu'h kahicik. ha'w, iniwi'n sa?ydt'h as a'?tati'tua?. ayum awd'hseh iniwi'n i'ts: 'kakitipeh, ldiki'tipeh, lkdhi'ti peA, kdki'tipeh, Idiki'tipeh!' iniwi'n a'ts. hi'w, ay6' tih Icahki'k:- 'wdi'pan, wei'pan, wi'pan, w&'pan, wi'pan, hdi', nik6'tds sa?yd'h awd'hseh ini'win s pdt'?tsitundI'mit: 'wa'pa'n!' ~wa'hin awd'hseh. h&'l, iniwi'n tdh niw as pis-wd'pah! ini'win kdih s kjsii'hkwAnikdi'tua? nilkdtd'yaw. hii'w, ini?-pih misik tsi-ki'kitit inuh nay&'siwet: 'nahud'w, ini? kdih sa?ya'h misik s pats undi'?sutsikdi'ydk ta? Idi'tiw-inim-imi'htsilce'ydk s aw-inim-mdtsi'hkami'kah,'.~w&'hin inuh nii'siwew. lui'w, TI'yapi'win mnis myA'niw wina'h ap; misi'k w&'pus iniwi'n kute'?nas wi'nah ap as 6'yapit. hd'w, ayum mie'niw ahpa'n ni ni' tsV?napumd'win aninuh wd'pusun. 'haA, ta? ayum dnii'pumit mi'eniw?' ~w&'hin wdi'pus. 'ta'? Uth aw-ina'pAmi'nan? kik&'ta-m6'n kdih!' jwa'Ihin MYA'niw. 'h~A, kit'? di's-kitamdki'yen? niku't kdih wi'nah ni'nah mdi'ts-ki',sehki'hkiw nimei'?ts8ipa'htu~tan tipdh d'hkwah', ~wa'hin wd'pus. 'a,'nu k6dh, p6'ts kek ni kikii'ta-m~n,' iswd'win myk'niw. ha'w, iniwi'n sa?ya'h s mJ'tsiAt w&'pus, ki'sehki'hkiw as tsi 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 335 "Count these markings of mine," said Chipmunk; "Even thus shall be the number of the summer months; and in winter, the same number there shall be." Then the spirit-animals counted them. "Yes, indeed this Chipmunk speaks truly," said the spirit-animals; "Very well; this, then, is the way it shall be throughout the course of the earth's existence," spoke the animals. Then the host spoke once more: "So now you have settled and fixed this matter. But this too must be the way of things, that there be a succession of days; this also you must now arrange and plan." Then Bear spoke up from somewhere: "Very well, like this black color of mine, that is the way things shall look, through the future course of the world," said Bear; "And whenever mortal Man wishes to get sight of me, he will go groping about to seize me with his hands," Bear said. "Oho! You haven't a bit of a frightful temper, have you? If Man should startle you by a touch, you might kill him on the spot!" Bear was told. "Well, just the same, that is the way I want it," said Bear. "Well, then, settle it by a contest," they were told. Chipmunk was elected by the company to contend with Bear. The spirit-animals favored Chipmunk in their hearts, hoping that he would win. So then they began their contest. Bear said, "Eternal night, eternal night, eternal night!" But Chipmunk said, "Day, day, day, day, day!" After a while Bear made a slip of the tongue: "Day!" said Bear. And then dawn came. So now they had fixed and established this matter. Then the host spoke again: "Well then, it is now time for you to plan and arrange also what you will continue to eat throughout the future course of things," said the host. Owl was sitting there among them; and so was Rabbit sitting somewhere in that place. Now, Owl kept watching Rabbit. "Hey, why is this Owl looking at me?" said Rabbit. "Why do you suppose I am looking at you? Of course, I want to eat you!" said Owl. "Ho, what pitiful speech is that? Why, I run all through a big cedar swamp in the course of a night," said Rabbit. "Just the same, I certainly want to eat you," said Owl, before them all. "Very well, start off right now," they were told. So now Rabbit started out; he ran for a cedar swamp, ran hither 336 336Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nd'tsipd'ht~tah, papd'mip&'htuk, ne?8WAnd'tsiPd'htUk niw, ne?,SWAna'tsiku~na'hah. hd'w, ini2-pih kutd'2nas tsi-k-i'Asit. hd'w, ayum mie 'niw mini sa~ya'h wina'h ap, as Ma'tSiAt nt~ndhdi'tsin aninuh w&'pu~sun. ki'sehlci'hlciwin ini's as pp&',m-ntdw&'pumA'tsin. &', nk~tdi's sa.?yd'h kAniwi'n niwt kutd'2na-s mnis iaydwa'tsin: 'dA, djA~ t~ n tdh lkiPua2-nyA'nine'nan!' ind'nime Win mye'niw. iniwi'n-pih misi ini-pipa'lkWAhlka'hsih tipd'h misi s ki'Asit inuh wa'pus. ha'w, inuh wa'pus kAniwi'n ni pd'rni-kitsi'pisit. hat'w, MYA'niw ini-nawa'tsipund'win as pind'tsin misi 1ay~s-y~h-Mdts8YA'tua2. 'naha'w, way~'pats kdh mi'n,' indi'win myA'niw; 'ini'? lkeh niw hpdi'n niw aw-inim-indi'htsike'yAn aw-d'ts-ahkcj'w-taki k,' ina'win. hi', misik ayat'h pi'niki'kunew a'yapiwin wi'nah ap misi lutd'2nas; misi'k tah nAMd'i'2swinah a'p misi d'yapi'win kutdi'?nas. a'w, inuh pj'niki'kunew pdn ni niw tsj'2napumdi'win ani'nuh nAMa'2sAn. Id &'2 tdih dnd'pamit ayum p~niki'1kunew?' jwa'hin nAMd'?s. 'hd'? tah aw-inii'pami'nan? kcikd'ta-m&'n kidh!' jwd'hin inuh pi~niki'ku~new. 'hd'h, ta? ds-kitdmdlki'yen? nandwi'htim lkdh wi'nah ni'nah nilcipap&'mipisim,' isjwa'win nuh nAmd'25. 'd'nu ktih, p6'ts keh niw kikld'ta-m~n,' is3jwa'win nuh pj'nikikunew. 'ha'w, ini'h-pih niw MjtsyA'kun,' ina'wAlkin. ha'w, nAma"'?s iniwi'n as MO'SiAt. nipj'hseh mnis taku~'ahin, Ma"'tsnipj'h~seh. MA^, iniwi'n kdh as papa'mitsimd't nama'2s ppd'm-nt5 -nd'hah ta-ki'Asit. ha'w, nl~t&',s as tsi'-mehkah, kayjs-pd't8-ki'Asit nAmd'?s, h&'w, ini? sa~yd'h wi'nah ap p~niki'kanew as ma'tSiAt 5 pap&'m-ntdndh&'t~sin anuh nAmd'?,san, nipj'hsehsih papa'mi?nit. ha'w, nik~td's niw kAniwi'n niw kutd'?nas dki'htsih an&'mipik inu'h nAmd~s. cdA, he'h, tsi' kAn kipu,'a2-niAnine'nan!' ind'nimewin hinuh pi'niki'kunew. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih sa?yd'h spd'miah mnis d'8iAt ti'pai'h mnis s aki'htsinenik. ini'? tdh pis-lke'2takutsih, sinawa'? ni niw s pis-nd'si0tW pij'niki'kunew. MA, nAmd'?s winah s mdlc-aki'htsih, kAni'win niw imi's and'mipilc naydwii'tsmn ani'nuh pj'nikikune'wan! 'hi hiAh, UMAs d'?-nakah and'mahlkiah k&'taw-pits-y65'h-td'pinit!' ind'nihtA'min nAma'?s3. ha'w, iniwin-pih tsiyd'w dqsp~'?tW. hd'w, misik niw ini'win td'pis-td'pinikut, iniwin-pik misik d'8pi?tAt; k6?si'k niw y&'hpits waihkdpi'?tawmn; k6?8i'k niw m6?&i'wilcandi'hsmnin nAmd'?sR. pe'nikikunew wi'nah iniwi'n-pih tayd'pipund'tMin s niw-awand'ts8in kayj8-pit8 -y6'h-mdts8yA'tua; ini-pakci'tinemin itni8. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 337 and thither and in all directions, and mixed up his trail. Then he hid somewhere. Soon Owl started out too, looking for Rabbit. It was a cedar swamp where he went about trying to get sight of him. Finally, some place or other, he suddenly saw him; "Ho, ho! I thought Iwasn't going to be able to see you!" Owl inhis mind said to him. So then he came down with a flapping noise of his wings, right where Rabbit was hiding. At once Rabbit started and jumped from his lair. Owl seized him with his claws as he went past, and brought him back to where they had started from. "Very well, you are free to eat him," Owl was told, "and this, now, is what you will eat as long as the earth endures," he was told. Then, again, he who is called Fish-Hawk was sitting somewhere, and so was Fish. Fish-hawk kept staring at Fish. "Why is this Fish-Hawk looking at me?" said Fish. "Why do you suppose I am going to be looking at you? Of course, I want to eat you!" said that Fish-Hawk. "Hah, what a pity, for you to talk that way! Way down in the deep water I always dart about," said Fish before all of them. "Just the same, I intend to eat you, without fail," said FishHawk for them all to hear. "Very well, start at once," they were told. Off went Fish. There was a lake there, a big lake. There Fish swam about, on his way looking for a place to hide. Finally he found it, and when Fish had well hidden himself, then Fish-Hawk started out to seek Fish, flying about over the lake. All at once, there was Fish, suspended someplace in the water. "Oho, I thought I wasn't going to be able to see you!" thought Fish-Hawk of him. Then he went up aloft, exactly over the place where Fish was staying submerged. There Fish-Hawk hovered nearer and nearer and silently came down. Fish, staying there submerged, suddenly saw Fish-Hawk underneath in the water! "Dear me! Why, of all places, it's here, from below he wants to come and snatch me!" thought Fish. So he must needs dart upward. Again the other was coming to seize him, so again he darted upward; finally he came to the very surface of the water; at last, there was Fish with his body clear of it. Then was when Fish-Hawk got him into his claws and carried him off to the place from which they had started, and there laid him down. 22 338 Publication~s, American Ethsnological Society Vol. XI 'nliw, wa y~'pats idik mi'n! ini'2 kdih niw aw-inim-ind'htsilce'yan ki'nal& ap aw-inim-dt8-mdtsi'hkami'1kah,' in&'win piniki'1kunew. in~iwi'n kdih niw ma'wa ni niw kaye-s-inim-isi'2tatua? akum MAnat6wAk. nahM'w, winah ap sa~c~mdw Ti'yapiwin ku~td'2na8 wi'nah ap. 'nahM'w, saki'mdw, td'2 tdih ki'nah Idi'tew-inii'htsikeyan?' '5A, mamd'tsi0taw kdh nldi'ta-muiiw,' ~wa'hin sak~mdiw. 'nahdTw, mdtsi'ah; nt~nd'hin MAMii'tsi~taw, ki'spin wi'hkik-at as iniwi'n-pih maya'tsiAt sak~mdw. nk~tdi's niw kAniwi'n niw pis-pi'h'nahud'w, ini'? lkeh ni kina'h ap aw-inim-ind'htsilke'yan as awinim-mdtsi'hlkami'kah,' in&'win sakd'mdiw. ini'? cihku'atsimi'yan. 94. RAGGCOON'S PRANKS. (nud'sinildi'puwiw.) I. pdpim6'hnewi'n kdih d'hsipAn tsi'k si'piah. 8 mdik-pdpim5'hnet, akdi'miah imis tsiw-anii'pit, nimd'?, usii'matin nalhnakdwiAk! a'?, papii'm-nit~nd'hah. kayj's-mehkdih, ini'?-pih y6'm tsiw-indi'nah; U8 -ke-'hsikuh uMAxs 8i86'nam misjwd' niw, misik imis utsj'hkih. i'ni?-pih tdh tsi-kawiZ'?tat as nipd'hkasit, 'hdi'w, ii'hkiwAk aw-ii'wiwak a'kum,') as itii'h inih pikutsi'hnAk. hMANa?, kd'?tin ii'hkiwAk usli'matin! ini'? tdh s siisehk~hsik mnis. ha'~w, nilc~t4's sa?yeh as tsi-pis-mis&'kdt inuh nikut nahnii'kdiw papdi'muhnet. s mdik-pim5'hnet nah-nii'diw, kAniwi'n niw WI/yAk isJ'kiw sd'hkihsih; d'h, di'hsi pan d'wiwin! hMU, iniwi'n kdh s tditse'?napumii'tsin; k6'?newin niw apdi'?sik niw. wina'h sa?yeh iniwi'n s tsi-ki'hkuhnet, kdi'?tsih as awe-'h-uhsdi'pamats3in. nimu'?, ihkiWAk! ni'mdP, ni'md?, ni'mda?, ndnitskand'ndi tsi-kj8-ni'pdi~k! nahud'w, kAs iniwin sa~Yi'h s8 Md'tSiAt. d'hkupik mnis ini-pyA'tat: 'fzivw, kd'k~h nipita'tsimim!' m~wi'n!' e'wai'kin aki'kuh nalhnilkdi'WAk. ta'?, ini-win sa?yd'h as tsiw-inim-aku'a?tat- WhA h, kd'kC~h nip-ti'tsimim! MdnitskAnain&'w tsi-k&-g-ni'pdik; imi'? s 8ehke-'hsih; yii'Izpits Whk&1iwiw, ahka'nuh ni tsi-W8'-nipd~k!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 339 "Very well, you are free to eat him! This, in fact, is what you will eat, for your part, through the entire course of things that are to be," Fish-Hawk was told. Thus, one after another, did all these animals. Now, Mosquito, too, was sitting somewhere. "Now. Mosquito, what kind of food do you want to eat?" "Oh, I want to eat Man," said Mosquito. "Well, then, go out and look for Man, to see if you can manage to eat him," he was told. Then Mosquito went away. After a while, into the lodge he came; all red was his belly; he must have been eating Man. "Well and good; this, then, is what you will always eat, throughout the future course of the world," Mosquito was told. This is as far as my story goes. 94. RACCOON'S PRANKS. (Masinikapuwiw) I. Raccoon was walking about by the side of the river. As he walked along, he looked across at the other bank; why, there were more crawfish than you could count! At once he hid himself, stopping to take thought as to what he should do. When he had hit upon an idea, he went back in the other direction and looked round for some rotten wood. When he had found it, he handled it like this; he rubbed it here all over his eyes and there on his buttocks. Then he lay down and acted as if he were asleep, and said of the rotten wood, "Let these be maggots!" Lo, truly, there was a great quantity of maggots! So then he lay stretched out there. After a while, a certain crawfish came across the river and walked about. As the crawfish walked along, why, there lay some sort of creature; it was Raccoon! He kept looking at him; he was still afraid of him. Soon he stepped nearer, to look at him from close by. Dear me, the maggots! "He must have died a long time ago," thought the Crawfish; "Well, well, well, well! Nanitskananaw is dead! Well, I had better go tell it." Off he went. When he got to the edge of the water: "Halloo! I'm bringing some news!" And while he was on the way across, "Hey, he says he's bringing some news!" cried those Crawfish. Then, when he was coming out of the water, "Hey, I'm bringing some news! Nanitskananaw is dead; over there he is lying; he is all full of maggots; a long time ago he must have died!" 22I 340 340Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'naha'wv, kita's9iA2, kitd'wih-mmd'nawe2! t6'wahkeh inuh uhpi,'nehku~n!' ta'2, iniwin s kdi'kutiwdt t6wahkeh. ni2-pih sa~ya'h as tsi-mitsa'ha'lw, t&'2 inis td'h?' ~wd'kin alkuh nahndkd'WAk. 'hd'w, umd,'2 as sehlc'hsih.' 'hJ'w, is yA'kun h&t'neh, aw~'h-ts'?napu'mehkcun mdmd'tsik kd'"tin as a'-nipalk,' jwd'hin inuh nikut nahnat'kdw. h&Ata2, kdi'2tin s ndwdtu'a2 aki'ku.h nahnakd'WAk. ta'2, ya'hp its iihlciwiwin d'hsi pan. 'e y, pyA'kun, yd'hpits keh winah ii'hkiwiw j'h-ayum di'hsipan!' JMI', iniwin s wdpdi'wanititua2. '4naha'w, kAtd'8 kAts kini'mi2!' ta'?, an'uh ut6'wahkdi'hlkuwawan: 'nipniv7i9 kdidsdIscuminkupan. nimdhkawd., nimdhkawdt, nimdhkawa-, h~i', wdhtsita, kd'2tin ah tsi-kd'2ts-ni'mitua? nahnad'kd'WAk. CsiA h, na'sAp niw tsiw-is3j'?tawv j'h-ayutm i'hsipan!' 'nahM'w, sj'2sah5'hkun!' ini2-pih tsiw-unm'pumih tdtahke'sit s 80'saht~wdt. 'h#I'w, skje'hsikcuh sj'2sah5'hkcun!' nimd~'2, di'hsipan skcj'hsikuh s sj'?sahvh! nilk~td's niw tsj'pi~tat md'nawats, hi', iniwin sa'?yeh misi'k kaydt'nit as ind'hahku.a?: 'hiihsipandi kisdsdkumdk~ndn~in; tsjpiskawd sipandi, ini' win dnaha'hkua2. ma', wdi'htsita niwin as unu'ahtulcua2, misa's3 niw wj'y5 imi's wah~c~ts as tasi'hsimitua2 ha'neh. 'nahci'w, misi'k pina'h s~'sah5'hkun uts~hlkih misi!' ta'?, iniwin sayd'h misik inuh tit'tahke'sit utsj'hkih tdih mnis s se'?sahatsin. nimdi'?, d'hsipan wd'htsita iniwi'n s w~'?sakce'sit. nilc~tts' iniwi'n ma nawats niw h tse'piskAt. hd'W, iniwi'n sa?ydh tsi-ni'mitua9: 'ha~isipand ki~sa-sdku~mau~nenj; tsipiskcawadihsipand, sipandi!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 341 "Very well, we shall go there; we shall go hold a jubilee! Tie the deerskin cover on the water-drum and make it ready!" Then the trial-sound of the water-drum was heard. Soon they crossed over, all of them. "Now, where is the place?" asked the crawfish. "Over there he lies." "Now then, some of you go look at him and see whether he is really and truly dead," said one crawfish. The crawfish saw him, sure enough. All full of maggots was Raccoon. "Hey, come on, this raccoon is all full of maggots, I tell you!" They began to march along, one behind the other. "Come, let us dance!" Now, to the sound of the water-drum: "Dead He who crunched us of old, See, I have found him, See, I have found him, See, I have found him, See, I have found him!" Truly with zeal did the crawfish dance! "Look out! Perhaps this raccoon is only acting this way!" "Very well, pinch him with your claws!" Then they were chosen who were strong at pinching. "Go on, pinch his face." Oh, but Raccoon was pinched in the face! Once he jerked a little, and then they struck up another tune: "Raccoon Crunches us all in his teeth; He moves with a jerk, Raccoon, He moves with a jerk!" was what they sang. They hit it up in great shape! All over his body, right on top of it, danced some of them. "Come on, pinch him again, on his buttocks!" Then again the strong pinchers pinched him, this time on his buttocks. Raccoon was truly in pain. Finally he moved with a slight jerk of his body. Thereupon they sang: "Raccoon Crunches us all in his teeth; He moves with a jerk, Raccoon He moves with a jerk, Raccoon!" 342 342Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII CsiA h!' inid'nihtAmin di'hsipan mdnawa',ts t,,i-ntdwd'pit tse'2napumei'tsin; ii'neh irni's (ih'kupilc iniwin s tasi'hsimi'tua2; ani'? teh aninuh wd'htsitaw wayJ'hki~natsin. ha'w, iniwin sa~yd'h s nj'puwj'pahtuk, imi's d'hkupik imis as ind~'wimit, pimi-,sd?lsakumii'tsin s mu'atsin pmim-mi'tsihsit. ta'2, &'neh tih wvi'nah ini'2 s tip-nipi'thihahpdi'kesitua2. h&'w, ini'? kdih as tdi'pinit d'hsipan. hd'w, kutd'?nas3 ini's s aku,'a~nahtik iniwin s wAh-sdi'sek~h-sih as t&'tahketsi'hs3ih. ta'?, akum nahnakd'wAk s ydih-misdkd'tua2, ini'kuh na'p kay&skASiwdi'tua?, payiAta'tua? ini's s umdi'nikcanitua?. ki~sj'hseh tdfh ni'ku~t tsiw-d'wiw misi'k uhsZ'meh8An; nay~mdi'win uh8~'meksmn. ini'2 tdh s w#~'htamii'htua?: 'kces-ne~na'WAIk kiki'yah misik k6'Ihne2!' iniwti'n a nihtua? kikuh nahndkd'hSAk-. 'nah&'w, nina"? ap kdi'h niw ninaw-isyA'minaw inuh d?'hs8ipan, nd's kAt nina"? ap nina-m6'kunaw,' ~wa'hin inuh ki~sj'hseh. iniwi'n-pih s tsi-MatsyA'tua? misak-d'tua2. kayis-inim-aku'a~tatua? linuh ki~s~'hseh, inim-isyA'ua? mnis s sehki'sih aydi'h d'hsi pan. ha'w, iniwin sa~yd'h uni'ydtski'2tat d'hsipan as tsj'2napamd'tsin. tcd'2, pi'tuhne'wAkin. iniwin-pih tdh s nj'puwinit nis kd'2tsih s sekkj'hs8ih d'hSipAn. d'hsi pan iniwin-pih tayd'pinatsin aninuk, pipi'hkitsipu'natsin. nipi'hih iniwin tak d'hpakind'ts3in. 'naha'w, nahnldkd'WAk kinaw-ik~wdi'WAk mam&'ti~tawak as awinim-mdtsi'hkarni'kah!' iniwin-pih nayi'pi~tat ei'hsi p~n s Mats yA't. IL. misik s md'k-piipim6'hnet ni misik, kAniwi'n niw pdmii'pa~tek; w~'khiwarn teh a'wiwin, tipi'kiin. sinawa'? niw s nawind'htuk, sku'ahtemih ini's as ini-pyA'tdit, iniwi'n-pih pis-sei'kit6'hnet mitd'muh. ta'?, tsi-ndwd'win nuh miti'muh dhsipA'nAn; iniwi'n-pih imi's MIu, ini'?- -ph sa~yd'h tsi-pis-ni'pi~ltat MAtsikihkwd~'wi's pis-tsV2 -napu~md'tsin wi'nah ap. 'hdI', nehse?', kina-wjkimu'naw!' jwa'hin inuh MAtsikihkwd'wis. 'naha'w!' ind'win ta? inuh wii'mihsit. ini'? kdh s pi'htikand'tua? s uskd'hkiwet a"'hsipAn. ta'?, ini? td'h ni nayi's niw s we9'kima'tsin. nik6'tds niw ayd'Wik as tsiw-unitsyA'nehsit nuh mitii'muh, winah a'p niw inuh MAtsikihlcwa'wi8; pdhni'hs3An teh a'wiwAnin nayV's niw. nik6'tds tsiw-inei'tsin ani'nulh wj'wan nuh d'hsipan: 'ta'?-pilh tdk ki-ki'sikitua2 a'kum kinWh7yA'nehsuwa'wAk?' ind'win ani'nuk. we'wAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 343 "Whew!" thought Raccoon, and peeped to look at them; some of them were dancing there by the edge of the water; these were the very kind whose taste he liked best. So up he leaped and ran to the water's edge and started crunchingthem up with his teeth and eating them, making his meal as he went about. Some of them managed to reach the water and throw themselves in. Soon Raccoon had eaten his fill. Off he went somewhere into the shade, stretched himself out, and lay there cooling his belly. The crawfish crossed back, as many of the poor things as had escaped, and arrived at their village. There was a girl there with a younger sister, whom she was carrying on her back. And now they were told, "Your mother and father have been killed!" That is what these little crawfish were told. "Then we too will go to that Raccoon; let him eat us too," said the girl. They went away, crossing the river. When they had reached land over there, she went along saying: "Raccoon, eat me!" That is what that girl kept saying as they went on to where Raccoon was lying. Then Raccoon raised up his head and looked at them. They walked toward him. There they stood, close by where Raccoon was lying. "Raccoon, eat me!" she said, again. Then Raccoon took hold of them with his paw, bursting their bellies one after the other. He threw them into the water. "So then, 'Crawfish' is what men will call you through the future course of the world!" Then Raccoon arose and went away. II. When he was again walking along, there was some smoke drifting along; it was a house, a small lodge standing alone. He went up to it noiselessly, and when he got to the door, a woman came out. The woman saw Raccoon and spoke to someone within, "My older sister, it is a raccoon!" Then the Foolish Maiden arose and came to look at Raccoon, too. "Why, little sister, let's marry him!" said the Foolish Maiden. "Very well," said the younger sister. So then they took him into the house, and Raccoon was newly married. In fact, he married both of them. Time came when the one woman had a child, and so did the Foolish Maiden; both children were boys. Once Raccoon said to one of his wives, "When do these children of yours generally get their growth?" he asked his wife. 344 344 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'ZA, nawa'h keh ni' nap,' ~wd'hin inuh mitd'muh. 'hcV, kina-w~'htamu'n lka-h aw-iW~'ta yen. wd'pah mi'p kcjs-pehlk6'nat ay6 lkinitsi'Aneh, ini?-pih imi's aw-isV yen, aw-isyp'nat,' - j pj'w teh inis pim~'hnenin, - 'ini's tiih d'hkupik kUs-piAtdyAn, ini'?pih ini'8 a-y6'h-wd'pinat; n6'?sulh teli imi'? aw-ahpd'kinat. UinA's ni kUs-wd'pinat, ini'?-pih niw a-pis-kjwd'?tAyAn. pon wi'nah isd'palhtsikd'nun. ni'2 ta/i s a-pi8-kjwd'yAn s a-pits-d'ya~pi yen y08 pi'/itik,' ind'win d'iSi p~n anuhiWj'WAn. /id'w, wayd'pah sa? ye/i mitd'mu/i kaye-s-pehk~nd'tsin units yA'ne/isAn, ini'?-pi/i tsiW-iSiAna'tsin d'/ilupilk. kayj8-pyA'tdt, k,-ayjs-sakej'lkdtdnei'ts8in anuhi urntsyA'neh8An, n6'?suh imiwi'n dhpakind'tsin. tsiw-&'yapit, nawi~n&'/si/~ii/ niw kAniwi'n niw Wi'gAkc payitiwd'pahtuk; pis-pi'htike'pa/itawin. pdx~'pik rne~nike'nin inuh apdinzi'/ie/i; md'ts-apdhni'hs3e/ Ct'wiwin. /idw, iniwi'n lcdh as di'yutsiMd'tSin inuh mitd'mu/i units yA'nehs~n! MAtsikihlcwa'wis y6'win niw cin&'puina'tsin: ~yCIA, nehsj'2, inut ayd'wit kiki'?s?' ind'win. WA ~!I jwd'hin inuh mitd'muh. 'td'? tdh kinah kaye-8-awMh-is~'2tayen, nehs~'2?' ind'win. 6A, &lcd'yan keh niw nikj8-isj'?tam,' ind'win. 'na/i&'w, nehs~'2, wj1ttam5'wina?, tii'2 td/i caye-8-is~'?ta yen?' 'wd'pah lcdh mi'p kis-Wn' yen, ini?-pi/i a-pehlc6'nAt ay6' lcilcsi's imi'? td/i aw-isi'Anat d'hlcupik; ini'? ta/i a-y6'/i-wdi'pinat, n6-'2suh t~dh imis s aw-a/ipd'lcinat. kA'n tdh winah kinaw-isd'pa/itsilcd'nan,' ind'win aninuh vumn'h8An. /idw, ini? sa? ye/i wayd'pahMi'p inAtSiki/ilwa'wis kay&s-pehk5 -n&'tsin units yA'nehs~n, tsi-wei'puhnet, d'hlcupi'k mnis kaye-s-pyA'tdt, kayj8-salcj'lctdnd'tsin units yA'ne/isn, tsiw-6h-wd'pina'tsin, 'ts6'h!' ta'?, ay6 wi'nah ap d'/isipan s n6'htawatsin ani'nuh s isd'pa/itsita'?, matsiki/ikwd'wis tsi-pis-pi'/itiket, iniwin-pi/i s d'yapit inis pi'/itik. iniwin niw d's; lcawi'n nand's Upi'Anan apd/ini'/ise/i. kd'yan?' ind'win ani'nu/i umZ'/isAn, 'ni? wd'/i kAn 5 pi'At.' /id'w, iniwin s kd'?ts-nte/ikc'sit MAtsiki/ilcwd'wis. uta/i d'win inalcah wd/i-td'pina'ts3in aninu/i, d'/sipanan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 345 "Why, after a long time, of course," said the woman. "Well, I shall tell you what to do. Early tomorrow morning, first untie this child of yours from the cradle-board; then go over there, take him over there," - a river flowed by there, - "and when you have reached the bank, fling him out from there; throw him right out into the middle of the water. When you have flung him there, you will come right back home. Do not by any means look back. Then you will come home and stay right here, indoors," said Raccoon to his wife. The next day, when the woman had untied her child, she took him to the edge of the water. When she got there, she took hold of the child by one leg and threw him out into the middle of the water. Then she turned round and came back home. When she had gone into the house and was sitting there, after a little while, someone suddenly came running with noise; he came running into the house. In this short time had her son grown large; he was a big young fellow. Oh, but the woman kissed her child again and again! The Foolish Maiden looked askance at them: "Gracious me, Little Sister, is this your son?" she said to her. "Yes!" said the woman. "How did you bring this about, Sister?" she asked her. "Oh, I just simply did as I was told," she answered. "Please, Little Sister, tell me; how did you do it?" "Early tomorrow morning, when you have got up, untie this son of yours from the cradle-board; take him over to the edge of the water; fling him out from there, throwing him out into the middle of the water. But do not at all look behind you," said she to her older sister. Then, early the next morning, the Foolish Maiden untied her child and started off at a walk, and when she got to the edge of the water, she took hold of him by his leg and flung him out from there; "Splash!" he went down. Then she turned about: "Goodness me, my son!" she said. Thereupon she went away from there and returned home. But as for Raccoon, when he heard that she looked back, he stole out of the house and departed. When the Foolish Maiden came into the house, she sat there, indoors, but things stayed as they were; a long time passed and her boy did not come. Then the younger sister said to her, "Now, why did you look behind you?" she said to her older sister; "That is why he doesn't come." Then the Foolish Maiden was very angry. But there was no way of getting her hands on Raccoon. 346 346 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII III. lhi'w, ini2 misi'Ic tsi-Md'tsyAt 4'hsipan. malk-paipi'm6'hnet, kAfliwi'n ni misi'k pdm&'pa~tik; wj'k-iwAm tih misi'Ic d'wi win, tipi'kcdn. ha'w, iniwi'n kal& misi'lk s nawindi'htuk. islku'atltemih inis payyA'tat, ini' s tsi-kjnui'pit. ke~ts-ina'niwAlk dwiwA'lkin ni's; asuaka'maheto'WAkin; kalke'pihko'WAkin tdih alcuhk let8-ina'niwAkc. ini'2-pih tsi-pi'htiket di'hsi pAn; sinawii'2 niw nand'lkuhtiah imiwin 5 awe' h-una'pit, tditsej'2napii'htsilket. mi'tsimi'hseh us8d'matin d8-mdrnd'k! nj'ts-ke~ts-indi'niw, ini'2 keh sa~ydi'h lkAnas'pats s pas ts3ipd'hkiyah,' ind'win ani'nuh wej'ts-ke~t8-ind'niwAn. iniwi'n-pih misik kj'm~ts saydi'kit6'hnet d'hsi pan. imi's tih isku'ahtemik ini'win wdh-waipipi'hneh kti'hkap; und~pi'muwa2 tdhin is ini'win aindpi'hneh. di'hsi pan iniwi'n tdih s awdh-pehk6'nah inih kt'hkAp; kutdi'?nas Uth sas&Iki'yuh iniwi'n s awMh-kehpj't~k. hd'w, iniwi'n sa~ydi'h inuh ke~ts-ind~'niw tii'hkehkun as nawa-'tinatsin as ni-n&'katuapi'nah inih kdi'hkap. j', ahko6'2sik niw i'nis sasdki'win ini's s ini'M-isyAt, as tsiw-aw~'k-Cnu'ahkcitsih. iniwi'n tdh s pis-yd'h-wAskj~t. 'kj', nejts-ke~ts-ind'niw, ta? y6'm a'siki'makah? kldi'hkapi'minaw sas&Iki'yuh ume'2-nakah dncdpi'hneh!' 'aydi', nii'sa, keh ni na'p s tdi'2takats-tsipa'hkiyen ini'? ts8i-y65'hiydn! tdi'? tdh pas d'siki'makah sasdki'yuh as pas iniipi'hneh?' ind'win anuh wj't8-ke~ts-ind'niwAn. W&, ickAn wi'nah, nits-ke~ts-ind'niw, nikdin6'hkinan; ini'? niw 'nahd'w, nina'h tdh d'sit kas nind'tin,' jwdi'hin inu'h ni/cut Ike~tsind niw. iniwi'n-pih misi'k kjm5'ts3 wayd'p~t d'hsi pan s aw-awj'h-pehkc6'nah nih kd'hkap; nipZ'w mnis s taki'lc iniwi'n s aweJ'h-yd'h-1kehpe't61k. hd'w, ta'?, inuh ke~ts-ind'niw utii'hkehkun kay&~-nawd'tinatsin M&'tsiAt s ni-n&'katuapi'nah inih kd'hlkap, ta'2, awejh-mehkca'min keh ni'w inih nip.j'w. kay~s-ku'Apahah pi8-Md'tsiAt mi's8pis-1kj'wdt, kayis-pis-pi'htikat~k, 'h&t'ni?, n~ts-Ie~ts-ind'niw? ini'2 ni'w d~nipi'hneh inih kkdi'hkapi'minaw 1kindpi'minaw inih s taki'k. nd'scap kdh ni na'p s td'2talcats-tsipd'hkiyen kit5'h-is9'2tam,' ind' win aninuh wj'ts-ke~ts-ind'niwAn. hd'w, iniwin sayd'h as mi'm-pind'nah inih m~'tsim~'hseh; pd'hsawAnan ni's tdh po'namin; misilk wj'nin-misehd'WAn ni's misik ani'nu~h p6'newin ts~pd'hkit. d'ta2, d'hsipan s d'yapit nand'kuhtiah, nilc~td's sa~yeh iniwi'n iind'nihtah d'hsipan: 'ini'? kdh kAna' pats8 s ke-'sitek yom me~'tsimz'hseh,' ind'nihta'min. iniwi'n-pih nayi'pi?tat, - und'kAn ini's a~te'win ahkd'hkiAnih, me~tik-undi'kan, misi'lc a'mislkwAn, me'2tilc-d'miskwAn, - sinawd'?' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 347 III. So Raccoon was on his way again. As he was walking along, there, again, was some smoke drifting along; again it was a house, a lone lodge. Again he approached it. When he got to the door, he peeped in. There were two old men; they were sitting at opposite sides of the wigwam; and these old men were blind. Then Raccoon entered; noiselessly he went and took his seat at the rear of the lodge and looked at things. There was an enormous amount of meat! After a while one of those old men spoke: "Well, my fellow oldster, I suppose it's time for us to be cooking," he said to the other old man. Then Raccoon sneaked out of the house. From the door some cord was strung out; to their well it was stretched. Now Raccoon went and untied that cord; somewhere out in the thick brush he tied up the end of it. So now the one old man took his kettle and felt his way along the length of that string. Oh, at the end, it was thick brush there where he was going along, until he could go no farther, being snagged in the wood. He retraced his steps, coming back. "Why, old man, what's this? Our cord is strung over that way, into the deep brush!" "Nonsense! Of course, just because you don't want to cook, that must be the reason you say it! What in the world could make it lead into the brush?" he said to the other old man. "Why, old friend, I'm not lying; that is really the way it is," answered the other. "Well, let me go and fetch it," said the other old man. At that, Raccoon again stealthily ran and untied that string; he went and tied it back to where the water was. So now, when this old man took his kettle and went off, feeling his way along the string, of course he found the water. When he had drawn some, he started back home, and when he had brought it inside the wigwam, "How's this, old man? That string of ours certainly does lead to the place where our well is. But, of course, you only did that way because you didn't want to cook," said he to the other old man. Then he went and took down some meat from where it was hanging; two pieces of jerked meat he put in the kettle, and also two clean-cut slabs of fat, and started to cook. After a while, Raccoon, sitting at therear of the wigwam, thought, "By now this meat is probably cooked." So then he arose, - there was a bowl there by the kettle-place, a wooden bowl, and a spoon, a wooden spoon, - and noiselessly 348 348Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII niw as alkuapi'hah inih mRnsim~'hseh niku,'t, misik anuh misjhdi'wan wZ'nin aya'winit. iniwin-pih kaye~s-aw~h-5nd'pit d'hsipan s kxd'2tsvm~m'sihsit. k-ayjs-kitd'kdt, awMh-a~ta'win inih unii'lan. iniwin naw~nd-'hsihsih iniwin s ki'kitit inuh ke~ts-i)W'niw: 'hd'w, n.itsI-e~ts3-irnd'niw, ini'2 kdh 8a~ydi'h kAna'pats s k-i'sisi'ahkiyah.' ~6A ' jwd'hin ta? i'nuh nikut. tni'? sa~yd'h tsiw-alkuana'tsin utd'hkehk~un. 'nahd'w, njts-ke~t8-indi'niw, kit~nd'kan pits-ind'sinamnh?!' ta'?, ni2? s ind'sinamn~wa'tsim. ke~ts3-inii'niw mini s kapdi'tahkit. dA2, iniwin s ki'nuha'h inih ni/cut pd'hSAwAn, misik inuh wj'nin. 'dA,~ kAn wi'ndh, njts-ke~ts-indi'niw!' jwd'hin winah a'p inuh. 'kA'n?, njts-ke~ts-ind'niw, kik~s-mi'tsihsim. kAn kdi'k~h y6'm ni/cut pd'hsAwAn; mzisi'k ayum wj'nin kAn Wi'yAk.' iniwi'n kdh Jiyi'suh s kj'kit~tdi'titva?. nik~td'8 iniwin sa~yd'h s ni'pi~tat a'hsipAn, ani'nuh mayd~k-akuahisi'ahkinit, kayis-kaki'siwenah undi'h, pAkamd'win us3kj'hsikuh. iniwin misi'k ani'n~uh ni/cut tsi-pakedm&'tsin misik, kipi'hkihatsin. 'ti'hsah!' ejwd'hin ta? wina'h ap inuh ke~ts-ind'niw. hd'w, iniwi'n sa~yeh s kutdpdi'htitua? ke~ts-ind'niwalc mikd'titua2. m&d'2, di'hsipan sakana'h niw s ki-pimi'-Ai'nitsi'skuh. niko-tdft's tsiprn~m-ahpd'kine'tit~ua2 akuh lce~t8-ind'niWAk, di'hsipan ini'? as Iki'nitsi'skulh. 'ha'w!' jwd'hin d'hsipan. '4A, njts-ke~ts-indt'n iw, dt'hsipan a'WiAsah ayu m Icdk&'putsihinak! kiaO'?naperninaw sku'ahtemih ahpdi'kisin!' nuh 1ce?ts-indi'niw kay~s-nawdttinatsin, sku'ahtemih ini'wcin s k-asqki'?nat~si~n. d'hsipanz kayjs-nawd'tinatsin utd'hkehku~wd'wan akiku~h 1cj2t8-ind'niWAk, iniwin d'hpakinii'tsin inis hd'?nap inuh a's apit. 'ha'h hd'w, n~'s-ke~ts-ind'niw, ini'? sa~yd'h pak&'min!' jwdi'kin. k6o'hteh nawdi'tinamin inuh ke~ts-indi'niw pd'pakamd'tsin aninuh u~ta'hkehk-u~w'wan. iniwi'n tdh as yd'hpits-pC'2sakandma'tua,? aninuh utdi'hkehkuwii'wan. 'hei'w, nUts-ke~ts-indi'niw, ini'? keh n&'p sa?yeh tsi-ne,'?nakih!' jwd'kin. nand'?tutsind'tua?, kAniwi'n niw uti'hkehkuwdi'wan! 'ydAh, n#its-ke?ts-inii'niw, kildi'tirna'kesi2, kitdi'hkehkunaw, mu~'? tdh winah aya'wit paya'paka'makih!' ta'?, iniwin kdh i'hsipan s ini-s&'kit45'hnet. ini'? td~h d'hkuAtsiMi'yen. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 349 he ladled out one of those pieces of meat and one of the clean-cut slabs of fat. Then Raccoon went and seated himself and ate heartily. When he had eaten all, he went and put back the dish. Then he came back and sat down again. After a bit, one of the old men spoke, "Well, old man, I suppose by this time our cooking is done." "Yes," answered the other. Then he took his kettle from the hearth. "Well, old man, hand me your bowl!" So then he handed it to him, and the old man began to take the food from the kettle. Ho, that was when he missed the one piece of jerked meat and the piece of fat! "Oho, old man, so you have eaten your meal, have you!" he said to the other. "Oh no, old friend, certainly not!" answered he. "No, old man, you have eaten; one piece of jerked meat is gone, and so is one slab of fat." In this way they kept talking, first one, then the other. Finally, up rose Raccoon, doubled his fist, and struck in the face him who was ladling out the food. "Ouch!" he said, "And so you want to fight with me, do you, old boy!" And with that, he hit the other, punching him in the eye. "Ouch!" said the other old man. Then the old men jumped at each other and fought. Oh, more than once Raccoon nearly got stepped on! Then once, as the old men were struggling about, Raccoon got under their feet. "WTow!" said Raccoon. "Why, old friend, so it is a raccoon that is playing tricks on us! Throw our net across the doorway!" The old man seized it andplaced it so as to coverthe entrance-way. Raccoon took the old men's earthenware kettle and threw it where the net was placed. "There, old friend, now hit him!" they cried. One old man picked up the poker and banged away at their kettle. So they knocked their kettle completely to bits. "Well, old friend, now at last we have surely killed him!" they said. They groped for him; why, it was their kettle! "Alas, old man, we are in a sorry plight, it's our kettle we've been pounding!" At this, Raccoon walked out of the house. That is as far as my story goes. 350 350 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 95. SAW-WHET. (neht~si'wihtuic) M'w, t06'fpeh lkeh waw~'kiwin, hMAWa, tsi-pa'pahpisit, hdA, ma-hiiihtawin m#j'tsim, mitsimi'hseh, 8 nd'ne~tA'Icdt, apa'h1z8usun ki-pinti'tsin wg'lkih, MUtSiMa'hkcet, 8 ~pa'2sah mitsimi'hseh. ha'ta2?, nik~tli's winah miti'muhSAlk ni'8iWA'Ikin, winu'a2 ap as ha', nikc6td~'s aya'wik, aki'lc~h mitei'muhsAk, 'ha'w, akj'2, pAs ki-ktjs-pApa'm-nit5'hkiwe2!' 'h&'w!' ~wa'hin inuh nilcut, s kAtaW-we'kimiwua'tfl, ina"'niWAn nitandha't~ua?. ta2, matsM'wAkcin, pa'ini'pm hnetua2 mitii'muhsAk. hgAy, nik6t I's lkeh as &'wikI, ini'win sa~ye'h8 spiAtli'tua2 t0t'peh as wig'kit. wli'Iini1kdn d'wiwin inih w~'lc t~t6'peh. hdTw, payiAtli'tua? mnis w~'kciwAmih, n~tnj'puwi'tua2 slku'Ahtemih, hR'2, Icawin wi' yAk t~t6-'peh. hdiAta2, 'tsi-ypp'm-pahp~'siw t~t6'peh. tt6t'peh i' lcah 9'h-y6m m6'naw,' jw&'kin. 'hJ'w, kcinaw-w~kim5'naw!' uslimi'natin ta? mjtsimZ'hseh! alki'lkuh mitli'muhsAlk. hdi'w, d'yapi'tua2 pi'htilc, nilc~tl's Idih sa?ye'h nd'hlcah lkAniwi'n ni's 5iwA5 apZ'wAlkin utdi'htanih! d~ta?, apd'hsusun pjt6md'win tWV6 -peh. hd'wv, mitsikihlkwd'wis n~puwe~pahta/win, apdi'hsusun as pi'hhdI'ta2, niku,'t 1tdh inuh undt'kan utli'hpenA'min, t~t6'pehSAn as ahs8tmdt'tsin. siwt'~pim1i'nan 1ce5-And'win MAtsilkihlkwd'wis; ani'win tdh d'hsama'tsin. ninuiA2, ta'?, t~t6'peh wai'htsita'w ini'win s Ikd~tsmi'tsihsit, wd'pimi'nan as Mut'Atsin. ha Ata~?, 1kay~s-ani'h-mi'tsihsit, aisii'Akdim ini'win s a yapit, tiitsV?napumdi'tsin mitdi'muhsAn. aAta2, lki'luh wi'nah mitdi'muhsAk kdkgc'lkito'wAlkin s d~ydyd'nitva2 as tsfpdi'hkcitua2, mitsimj'hk8eh as anli'hkua2. 1kay~s-kisisi'Ahkcitua2, m~tsihso-wA'kcin mitdi'muh8Ak, mitsim~'hseh as mi'tsilkua2. ta'?, kawi'n nilc6'tuh umitsinuwdi'wan mitsimW'hseh; wdihtsita'w ini'win s kdlits-mi'tsihs&i'tua? mitd'MuhSAlc. hdt'ta'?, 1kaye~'s-ani'h-mi'tsihsi'tua2, paihpiskahd'uwin 8a?ye'h wdtni'tipdi'hlkah, inim-undindhkcihtsike'wAkin, s sdt'sehki'hsihlcua2 sa? ye'h s nipalt'ta?. hdAta2, tfit6Apeh wi'nah ap asi'akdim iniwi'n as ni'pdit. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 851 95.SAW-WHET.1 (Nehtsiwihtuk) Saw-Whet dwelt somewhere, and was always hunting. He had a great deal of food, of meat, for he always killed game, brought deer to his house, and prepared stored-food by drying the meat. Now, once upon a time there were two women who, also, dwelt somewhere. Then, at one time, these women: "Come, Sister, it is time we went about looking for a husband!"2 "Very well!" answered the other, and they decided to get married, and to look for a man. So the women set out and walked along. And then, in time, they came to where Saw-Whet dwelt. A round-lodge was Saw-Whet's house. When they reached that lodge and stood at the door, why, Saw-Whet was not at home. "Saw-Whet must be out hunting. For this is surely Saw-Whet's house," said the women. "Very well, let us go in," they said; "Let us wait for Saw-Whet; we shall marry him," they said. "Very well, let us marry him!" Why, there was an enormous amount of meat! "Good, here is our chance to eat plenty of meat!" said those women. Then, as they sat within the lodge, after a while, when evening had come, there came Saw-Whet and entered the lodge. Lo and behold, there sat two women on his settee! Saw-Whet was bringing home a deer, carrying it on his back. So the Foolish Maiden sprang to her feet and brought the deer into the lodge,3 and skinned and cleaned it, and cooked a dinner of meat. The other one picked up a bowl and gave Saw-Whet his meal. Foolish Maiden had boiled some sweet-corn, and this she gave him to eat. Lo, then did Saw-Whet eat heartily indeed of the Indian corn. When he had finished his meal, he sat across the lodge and observed the women. They, for their part, were chatting and laughing, as they prepared their meal, stewing the meat. When they had finished cooking, the women took their meal, eating meat. For they had never before eaten any meat; most heartily now did the women eat. When they had done eating, and night had fallen, they laid out mats for the bed, and lay down to sleep. But as for Saw-Whet, at the far side of the lodge was where he slept. 1 The Accadian or saw-whet owl; Cryptoglaux acadica. 2 Literally "seeking a woman"; the term for a man's courting is here comically retained in the inverse situation. 3 The duty of a wife. 32Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII taA2, sa~ya'h, 'h&'w, ta'2 teh d'sikit ayu'm t~t6'peh, k"Af s kAtd'Wwvikimi'nah?' it'WAlkin aki'kuth mitk'muhSAlC. 'hi'pina'h nAto5'min; na'wi yaw UMA'S 1TAt sehlcehsin, s a-wjhpiMA'kih,' iw&'lcin Mitd'MUhsAk-. hMAta, iniwi'n-pih na'tUMAtsin mitsikihkwdi'wis: 'kahicdpai'h, wihpd'mihs3in&'nk, wihpdt'mihsindi'nk!' in&'win innh mitsi~kihlkwd'wis. hMAta2,~ t~t6'peh ini'win niw sC~sehk-j'hsih utet'htanih, s lc62nA'tsin; k62?ne'win ani'nuh mitit'muhsAn s kAtd'wI'-we'hpima'tsin. hd'ta2, MAts3ikihlcwa'wis sayd'h misik nt~ma'win: 'kiikambd'h, kdkambd'h, nitiiss&'n, nitdss&'n, nitaiss&'n, nitassa'n, 6tdss&'n, kdkambdi'h; wihpd'mihsinFI'nlc!'2 indi'vin ta'? mitsikihkwd 'wis. heiw, iniwi'n-pih keh nayi'pi~tAt t~t6'peh as awAh-wjhpima'tsin ani'nuh mitd'muhs3An. 'ha'w, ndi'wi'?j'1 umd' kawi'ssimmu'n, kaka'mj/ih /'3 ind'win. hd'ta2, t~t6'peh ini'win keh nd'wjyaw as kaw~'2tW, as w~'hpiMA'tsin ani'nuh Mitd'MUhs3An. hd'ta2, mitd'muhsAk t0t'pehAn ayiitsime'WAkin. ta'?, nahdi'nisit, ta?, ina'nime'wAkin t0t'pehan; pa'hpisiw ayi's~w mdmahkd'ht5WA'kin t0t'pehan, ayittsima-'taa2. IR pahpeni'SiWAk kd'k~h j'h-ak-um nik&'taw-ihpei'nani'kuk!' ind'nihtAmin t0t'peh, k52na'ts3in mitd'muhs3An. wahtsita'W iniwi'n as k6'2ts-md'ts8i~tAt t0t'peh, as k62nA'tsin mitd'mvuhSAn. hdA, nik~td's taydpd'nimitua2 mitd'muhsAlc ayiitsirn&'tua2, iniwi'n teh sa~ye'h as natdiwd'nihtJ'hkua? as aw-kimini'kutua'? t~t6'pehan. hdi'ta2, t~t6'peh yii'hpits niw k62?ne'win. IhjA y, pdhpeni'siwAk ldi'k~h nikdi'tew-is~'kim! indi'nihtAmin; 'kd'k~h nika'tew-ihpii'nani'kuk #~'h-akvm mitd'muhSAk,' ind'nihtA'Min t~t6'peh. 'ha'w, Wdwi'p kimini'ssind'nk, kakampli'!'5 indi'win sa~ye'h misik. h&'f, t~t6'peh sdkitsi'pahta'win; ani-pi'Ahk-an teh ni's aw.jh-pahki'namin aku'AtSih; pihtikat6'k, ha-'w, iniwi'n teh rni'nikut di'?tUWAtsin ini's uti'nih. hd'w, iniwi'n teh, kayjs-a~tuwd'tsin, d'ya~sitenanmuwdi'tsin inih anipi'AhkAn; sa~ye'h misi'k niku~t ani'nuh mitd'MUhs3An. hd'w, iniwi'n misi'k as a'yasitenam'uwd'tsin inih anipi'ahkAn. ini'win-pih teh nayi'uwphuktt'pk Is tAi, h&'w, ini'win keh as awjh-tasi'AJhkah ani'nuh anipi'Ahk.anan, kiputetsi'nah, kAnkawd'h as indtsi'nah ani'nuh Anipi'Ahkanan. d~ita2, k,,uh mitd'muhsAk y3'win niw aina-pumna'tua2, ani'nuh anipi'Ahkanan as tasi'Ahlkah t~t6'peh. 1Ojibwa; informant translates: tot6'peh, pits-wg'hpimiyah.J 2 ft&t'peh, piA'nun; pits-wj'hpimiyah. 3ini'? niw: UMA's kawg'2tah na'We YAW. 4 ke'miniYah. 11 wj pats ki'mini'yah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 353 Then, of course, "Why, what is the matter with this person SawWhet, that he does not want to marry us?" the women asked each other. "Suppose you call him, do; let him lie down between us and sleep with us," said the women. So then Foolish Maiden called him, "Petit-Hibou, couche avec nous, couche avec nous!"1 that Foolish Maiden called to him. But Saw-Whet remained lying right there on his settee, afraid of them; he was afraid to sleep with those women. Then Foolish Maiden again called him, "Petit-Hibou, PetitHibou, viens ici, viens ici, viens ici, viens ici, Petit-Hibou; couche avec nous!" Foolish Maiden called to him. Then did Saw-Whet rise to his feet and go over to sleep with those women. "Viens, mets-toi ici, entre nous deux, Petit-Hibou!" she told him. So now Saw-Whet lay down between them, to sleep with those women. The women kept kissing Saw-Whet. For he was small and they thought him cunning; and so they took him back and forth, one from the other, and kept kissing him. "These persons are going to do some frightful thing to me!" thought Saw-Whet, in fear of the women. Truly, then Saw-Whet did not so much as stir, in fear of the women. In time, when the women had enough of kissing him, they wanted Saw-Whet to feel them with his hands. "Alors, Petit-Hibou, tate-nous," said one of them to him, "tatenous!" Then Saw-Whet feared them all the more. "Dear me, something dreadful is going to happen to me!" he thought: "These women intend some harm to me," thought SawWhet. "Viens, tate-nous done, tout de suite, Petit-Hibou!" she was saying to him again. Saw-Whet ran out of the lodge; out of doors he broke off two leaves; he brought them in and put one on each woman's affair there. Then, when he had put that leaf there, he pressed it down; and then, in the same way, he pressed down that leaf on the other woman. Then Saw-Whet jumped to his feet; across the lodge he went and there manipulated those leaves, rubbing them between -his palms and handling them in all sorts of ways. These women simply stared at Saw-Whet as he fussed with those leaves. 1 She speaks Ojibwa.. 23 354 354 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII h&'w, sd'kats-pih&'tua2 as a-pi'Anit:- 'haw, kahkdpdk'h, nitassTi'n; wdiwi'p wihpd'missindnk!' hdA, t~t6'peh iniwi'n-pih apd'2sik kAnZ-Iawdi'h kiw-indi'nah ani'nuh ani'piAhkanan; misi'k niku't kiw-utd'hpina'min, lciputetsi'nah 1t6t'pek. nahd'w, iniwi'n keh niw di's-wd'pah. U'2, MAtsikcihkwd?'wis kawi'n u~mdni'nihtanan s st~kani'kutua? t0t'pehan. wayii'pah, MaAWa, mcitsi'win winah t0t'peh, kayis-mi'tsihsit, k62na'tsin mitd'muhsAn /cAtdw-wehpima'tsin. hd'w, mitsikihkwd'wis wi'nah mats'wWAkin. hd'ta2, icas Iceh niw payiAftd'tu~a2, 'hd'pina'h, wdihtsita'w niw icAts Ikiwj1kimii'naw! kina-w~'htam~w5'naw aw-is~'2tat; kAn ni'na2 uts3 -1kehkinii'nan t~t6'peh s lkAta'w-welcimZ'wat. lkina-keh~cn5'ham~w5'naw teh aw-is8j'2tat, wAnitipd'hkah,' itoWAlkin misi'k alki'kuh mitdi'muh8Alk. 'hd'w!' jwd'kin, lkiwa'tua2 misilk iyd'h t~t6'peh we-'1ih. hd' ndi'hkah sa~ye'h mis8i'lc pit~mci'win apei'h8Usun 16t'peh. h&Ata2, mAtsilkihkwd'wis ne~puw~ 'pahtawin, mitsimj'hseh as pi'htikat6k, wi~nan~'htsiket. ha'ta2. misi'lc wi'nah ap inuh ni'lkut unii'kan ukti'hpinA'min; wa-pimi'nan ahsamd'win t0t'pehan. mdA2, t~t6'peh wehtsita'w iniwi'n8 k di'2ts-mu,'atsin wdpimi'nan. ta2, kawi'n nik6'tuh umit'anan; wehtsitA' tdh ini'win as wj'hkci~nA'ts3in wa pimi nan s ahsd'miku~t mitdi'muhsAn. Mt', pdhpiskahd'win ta2 winii'a2 ap alcuh mitd'mu~hsAlk m#jtsim~'hseh ini'win s kdi"2ts-mi'tsikua?. 1kayeis-ani'hmitsihsi'tua2 mitd'musAk, iniwi'n sa~ye'h misilc as wAnitijpa"'klah. clht'w, kAts kindi'pdP! iwii'kin mitdi'muh8Ak, ana-hki'htsilke'tua2, nipd'tua2. tat?2, t~t6'peh wina'h ap dSut'Akam ini'win as ni'pdit. 'hI', pahlpini'8iWA'k kd'lk~h keh niw nikd'tiw-t~tdi'kukc ~'h-alkum, mitd'muh8Alk,' ind'nihtAmin t0t'peh. hu'w, kd'i'tin lkAniwi'n keh niw misi'k ndi'tumi'kut t0t'peh. 'hd'w, lkakampe'h, wihpdimissind'nkc!' intd'win mitsikihkw6d'wis k3 -t6pehan. 'hj'h, pdhpeni's3iwAlk kdi'Ich keh ni kd'2tin nika'tew-ihpd'nani'kuk iniwi'n niw d'nu w&'wahte'? s s&'sehki~hsih utd'htanih tr~t4'peh. h&', sa~ye'h mi's3ik, 'kalka'mpd, wdiwi'p wihpd'missin&'nk!' 'hw&', ki 'nah, h&'2 kdh!' ind'nihtAmin t0t'peh. ni'pi~ta'win as awejh-wjhpima'tsin mitii'muh8An. nana-'wi yw ni' - wi'n as sehkoj'hsimi'kut. hiiAta2, indi'nime 'wAkin aki'kuh mitd'muhsAlk t~t5'pehan. 'na~s ts8iyd'w kAts kiw~kimi'kunaw!' ind'nihtAmu'kin aki'kuh mitd'muh8Ak. h&'w, dy~tsimnwi'tua? ta? k~h mitd'muhsAk, Ikikinei'2tsipunii'tua2 t0t5'pehan, a-'nuw s kAta'w-nehk~/puna'tua2I, 'j ', pdi'hpeni'siwAkc 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 355 Impatiently they waited for him to come: "Eh bien, Petit-Hibou, viens-ici; couche avec nous, tout de suite!" Then all the more zealously did Saw-Whet keep handling those leaves; he would take now one, now the other, and rub it in his hands. At last the day broke. Oh, Foolish Maiden did not like it that Saw-Whet had scorned them. When day came, Saw-Whet went away, after eating his meal, afraid to sleep with the women. Foolish Maiden and her sister also went away. When they came to where they were going, "I say, do let us really marry him. We shall tell him what to do; I really believe SawWhet does not know how to live with women. We shall teach him what to do, tonight," said those women to each other. "Yes!" they said, and went back to Saw-Whet's lodge. In the evening Saw-Whet again brought home a deer, carrying it on his back. Foolish Maiden leapt to her feet, brought the carcass into the lodge, and cut it up. Again the other woman took up the bowl; she gave Saw-Whet Indian corn to eat. Truly with zest did Saw-Whet eat the corn. For he had never eaten any; he liked very much the taste of the Indian corn which the woman gave him to eat. And when it was ready, these women, in turn, ate heartily of the meat. By the time the women had finished their meal, night had again fallen. "Come, let us go to bed!" said the women, and laid out the mats, and went to bed. Now, as for Saw-Whet, at the far side of the lodge he went to bed. "Oho, things have come to an evil pass; these women want to do something dreadful to me!" thought Saw-Whet. And in fact, soon again they called Saw-Whet. "Eh bien, Petit-Hibou, couche avec nous!" said Foolish Maiden to Saw-Whet. "Oho, surely some frightful harm do these persons mean to do me!" he thought. Then Saw-Whet tried in vain to ignore them, lying where he was, on his settee. But then again: "Petit-Hibou, depeche-toi, viens coucher avec nous!" "There you are! Of course!" thought Saw-Whet. He arose and went to sleep with the women. They laid him between them. Oh, but these women thought Saw-Whet charming! "I do wish he would marry us!" thought those women. When the women kissed and kissed Saw-Whet, and kept tickling him, trying in vain to excite him by caresses, "Hey, surely some 23* 356 356Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kd'l-5h keh ni'w nikd'taw-ihpa'nani'kuk #j'h-akurn,' ind'nihtAMin t~t5'peh. aA, kdi'tin: 'nahd,'w, kalcambli', wihpd'miqsinii'nk!' h&~ta?, t~t6'peh wd'walhte2 sdsehlke'hsinin t~t6'peh hI'WI, kakampd', wdwi'p wihpei'misstna nk!' mi-ni"pi~ta'win. hJ'wv,MrAtsikihkwa'wis iniwi'n niw as n6nipuna'tsin t0t'pehan. 'kahlkampd', sind'hkwa~i'hs3inCI'nlc! dA ta?, y6'win niw dinaipuma'tsin t0t'peh. ta'2 PA5 'si~tAt as a-sin&'hkuhA'tsin? 'wiwi'p sina'hkwa~essind'nk, kahkampi'!1' kiw-ina'win. sa'lkitsi'pahta'win t~t6'peh; utd'nina'peh kayj8-MAMa'k, me~ti'k awjh-kiskaha'min sa~naw&'hkwvAt. ka yis-Nc'ska hah, pifti'win, piktika't~lk. mits3ikihkwd'wis3 as 'i'nits3inihki'hsih, um6'tih iniwi'n as a'9tu~k inih sa~naw&'hlkWAt. htiw, a's3ilAta'hsine'nil teh, ini'win as nj'putvit t~t6'peh. ha'w, ini'? teh inih us&d'2naw'i'hlcWAtum as md'2makuhd'tsin, d'ta2, t~t6'peh. ha2, ta'2, MAtsikihkwi'wis3, 'us&'m lkikdsi'Ahkam; pe~si'k ni sinanahja'w, iniu'i'n-pih teh sinawd'? niw mayd2makuha'tsin MAtsikihkwdi'wihs3An. tahnd'nu~h niw as kiw-kdhtswd'pinah inih usi8i~nawii'hkWAtUM, 'Sincd'hkwtA~ihsina'nlc, 8inei'hlwA~ihsina'nk, sind'hlkwA~ihsina'nlk, sinC'hWA~ih~sina'nk, sina'hkWA~ihsina'nlk, sinai'hkwA~ihsina'nkc!' a'2, ta'?, MAtsikcihkwa'Wis', sina'hkwahuh, wd'hts3ita 1di'2tin yd'pitssiimehki'hsinin, 8indi'hkwahulkut t0t'pehan. hd'w, taydpdi'nimit MAtSilkihkwd'wis3, 'h&'w, ini'2!' ind'win t~t6'pehan. CAa'w, ni'nah tah sa~ye'h misik!' jwd'hin inu,'h nikut mitd'muh. hM', ni'?2, ta?, t~t6'peh sa~ye'h misik ani'nuh nikut UIm6'tih iniwi'n s a~tuwJf'tsin inih sa~nawa'hkwAt. hd'ta2, t~tt5'peh ini'2 sa~ye'h s kis-nehej'2tat; sinaw&'? niw kdiki'htina'min inik usd~nawa'hkWAtUM. 'sind'hkwa~ihsina'nk, sind'hkwa~ihsina'nk, sina'hkwa~ihsina'nk, s3ina-'hkwa~ihsina'nk, 8ind'hkwa~ihsina'nk!' hd'ta2, iniwi'n keh niw ahpd'n niw dni'tah, t6t6'peh s sina-'hkwaha'tsin ani'nuh mitd'muh8An; 'sind'hkwa~ihsina-'nk, sina'hkwa~ihsind'nk, 8ind'hkwa~ihsin&'nk, sina'hlkwa~ihsin&'nk, sind'hkwa~ihs3irui'nk, sinii'hkwa~ihsindi'nk... ha', ini'?, t~t65'peh!' h&Ata, mni'? keh sa~ye'h s kUs-wikimatu~a2 t~t6'pehAn. h&'a?, mim-unj'wAkin sa~ye'h s wd'pah, tsipd'hlkitua? mitd'muhs8Al. leay&s-mi'tsihsit wi'nal& t053peh, mdtsi'win pahp~'sit. mikti'muhsAle mdtsi'wAlein, tdp/inimi'tua2 t6t6'pehan wileima'tua?. tfit6'peh, na'hleah, payi'At wj'leih, leawi'n wi'yAle mitd'muh8Ae,' Ues-mdtsi'Atu~a2.,ha'ta?, pmim-tsjp&'hle~win toY4'peh, mi'tsihsit. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 357 dreadful thing these persons mean to inflict on me," thought SawWhet. Yes. indeed: "Eh bien, Petit-Hibou, viens coucher avec nous!" Oh, Saw-Whet lay there unheeding, did Saw-Whet. "Viens, Petit-Hibou, couche avec nous!" "Yes, there you are!" thought Saw-Whet. He rose to his feet. Foolish Maiden just missed Saw-Whet, as she tried to seize him. "Petit-Hibou, serre-nous fort!" Saw-Whet simply stared at them. How was he to squeeze them tight? "D6p~che-toi, serre-nous fort, Petit-Hibou!" he continued to be told. Saw-Whet ran out of the lodge; taking his hatchet, he went and cut a forked stick. When he had cut it, he brought it into the lodge. Where Foolish Maiden lay on her back, face up, at her belly there he placed that forked stick. Where her feet lay, Saw-Whet stood. And then with his forked stick did Saw-Whet press her back and forth. Then Foolish Maiden, "You go too fast; more slowly!" she said to Saw-Whet. So then Saw-Whet pressed her back and forth slowly. Every time he pushed that forked stick of his, "Serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort!" Oh, when she was pressed tight, truly Foolish Maiden lay smiling all the while, as Saw-Whet pressed her tight. Then, when Foolish Maiden was satisfied, "There, that's enough!" she said to Saw-Whet. "Come, now me!" said the other woman. Why, then Saw-Whet placed that forked stick at the other one's belly. By this time Saw-Whet was adept; slowly he kept pushing that forked stick of his, which he held in his hand. "Serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort!" That was the sound she always made, when Saw-Whet pressed that woman close; "Serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort, serre-nous fort!.... There, that's enough, Saw-Whet!" So now they had married Saw-Whet. When morning came, the women arose from the couch and cooked the meal. After eating, Saw-Whet went off to hunt. The women went away, satisfied at having lived with Saw-Whet. In the evening, when he came to his lodge, the women were not there; they had gone away. Well, Saw-Whet set about cooking, and ate his meal. 358 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xli 'hdi'ta2, mini keh h kUs-MdtsYA'tua? aki'kuh maydk~-kii~na'kua?,' iwd'hin t~t6'peh. mitsi' niw teh niw ini'win as uwjw'kit as m~sipd'wit; usd'm ta? sa~nawd'hkcwAt niw kiw-a'win as kiw-w~kimi'wdt; ta?, lc62tamu'kin teh aki'lcuh Mitdi'MUhsAk inih 8a~nawC1hkWAt. kAn tek misi'kcWi'yAn ukd'taw-wejkimi'ku~nan t&t6'peh. milsi' ni teh niw m~sa-pd'wiwin jh-y5'hpih as WeiW~'kit. sa~ye'h Mitsi' niw m6&ipa'wiwin; kAn Wi'yAn lre'WAn t0t'peh. kAn ukd'hkina'nan as w~'kim~'wtit, misi 'k teh k62new mitdi'muhsAn t0t'peh. md'wawv mand't~w kehkj'nam; wi'nah tdih, /cAn ukd'hkinanan; mits8' niw tek niw kAn uk&'hkinanan y6'hpih as pas w~1cim~'wdt. 96. HELL-DIVER. (MAskwawd'nahkwAt~k) nahd'w, mitd'muh iniwi'n dind'tsin uhsT'meh8An, Cnahd'w, nehsej'?, kAt kind'tuneh&naw kindpyA'minaw mi'kehsi'?neniw!' mats yA'tu~a?, ini'win s ndiwd'tua? as pi'tsitsirnd"'nit 8ik~mehSAn, ume'2tik'nem as 6'k. 'kAn wi' yAk UMA's sikj'meh,' jwd'hin. 'ta? 6'h teh dkdi'yen?' 'nine'? mi'kehsi'?neniw.' 'a,'ni2? pi'nah 8ani'ki nun!',as sani'kit sik~meh, w&', mi'kehsi'hAk si pipi'm-8j'kipis6 -WAkin UtSi'Anih. 'a'ni?? pi'nah. misi'k uhndi'?numinun.' 'hr'k!' ~wd'hin sikcJ'meh; m~'kehs8'hsAk sWkipis~wA'kin misi'k. 'aW?', ay6'2 keh niw kdt'?tin kindpyA.'minaw mi'kehsi'2neniw!' ak tsiw-wdiwi'pi~tAtua? as a~sikina'tua? m~'kehsg'hsAn. kayjs-asikina'tua?, iniwvi'n-pih pay6'situa2 mitd'muh8Ak. as mdk-pim,'tsime'tua?, iniwi' n s ndwai'tut-0 apdi'hsusun. nit5'min pi'nah!' 'wd'piskitiyd'w!' ind'win siki'meh apd'hsu,8un. ta'?, winah aPd'hsus se'kisiwin; ahpdin d'win ini'm-kuhpit. 'ta'? teh i'nih as ise'?tAt inuh kiti'hseh, mikeh8i'2neniw.?' 'kimdind'hkits&'mikuAw1 keh; ta? n&'2 s? inij2 wcai'h 5 Md'tiAt.' sa~yeh payiAtli'tua? inih umd'nikanuwaw, 'hA! im'win;' sik'meh ' A queer word, of foreign aspect; Menominli: Ikimdnd'mikuAw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 359 "There! At last they have gone, these persons whom I feared," said Saw-Whet. He still lives there alone, because a forked stick is the thing when he lives with women; why, the women are afraid of that forked stick. Never do any more of them want to marry Saw-Whet. To this very day he dwells a lone bachelor. He is a bachelor still; no wife has Saw-Whet. Saw-Whet does not know mating and fears women. Every animal knows it, but he does not; to this day he does not know what it is to have a mate. 96. HELL-DIVER. (Maskwawanahkwatok) A certain woman said to her younger sister, "Now, Little Sister, let us go look for our husband, Bead-Man!" They set out, and then they saw Hell-Diver1 paddling hither in his dug-out canoe. "Sister, it's Hell-Diver!" said Foolish Maiden2. "There is no Hell-Diver here!" he said. "Then what is your name?" "I am Bead-Man." "Is that so? Then blow your nose!" Then, when Hell-Diver blew his nose, why, wampum-beads simply poured out of his nose3. "Why, cough, too, will you?" "Hrk!" went Hell-Diver; again the wampum-beads poured forth. "Sister, this man is really our husband, Bead-Man!" and they were scrambling to pick up the china-beads. When they had picked them up, the women got into the canoe. While paddling along, they saw a deer. "Goodness me!" said FoolishMaiden; "There's your pet standing; call him, do!" "White-Tail!" Hell-Diver called to the deer. Of course, the deer took fright. Off and away it went, up from the bank. "How comes your pet to act that way, Bead-Man?" "He scents the scent of you, of course; what do you suppose? That is why he goes away." When they reached the town of those people, "Heigh!" they said of him, "Hell-Diver is bringing his women!" 1 The diver-duck. 2 Matsikihkwawis: 1. the oldest of the Sky-Sisters; 2. the Foolish Maiden, who figures in this and other stories; 3. the oldest of a set of sisters; still so used. 3 He had, of course, put them there beforehand; everyone knows the story. 360 360 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII meh s utsipi'wi~nisit. 'pinah mi'kehsi'2neniw ind'hlkun; lkina2, ini'2 niw wina'h ap kik.Ata'W-iSi'Ahkasit anuk kit6kimami'nawan.' 'naha'w, kd'2tin!' jwa'kin; 'hMA, mi'kehsi'2neniw pi'tehkiwdi'w!' 'ap&'h!' iw&'hin, 'mi'saye kwahkiwa'pAmika'ydk!'2 i~w&'hin sik'meh as kj'wdit, WAnadca'hkilka'mikuh s pi'htikan&'tsin anuh mit&'muhSAn. sayeh nd'hkah, 'naha'w, siki'meh, kAtd'W sa~eh kit5'kimaminaw kAtdw-ni'mihiwdw,' ind'win. ta'2, iniwi'n-pih 6'hkumd'h8An kayj'kitutawa'tsin: 'nuhk6'2, kAskikata'piswAnAk pi'tawihsi'n, mi'nawa mi'skunamun pit&'wihsin, kaya'h ki'niw-MAnaskiti'h pi'tawihsin.' m&'waw ah tsi-mind'tsin, ini'win as kdkehkik~td'pisit; misi'k ini'h ki-mehki'k Pi'kutsi'hnAk ini'win may~ndi'tsin as wdsi'hit usUi'hsik~h; misi'k inuh kii'kih wanii'n ini' win mayend'tsin as ts.e'patakdi'nit. ta2. iniwi'n-pih maya'tsiAt sik~meh s aw~h-ni'mihetit. '&', nuhk6'2, pdts-kan&'pumin Z'h-akum ihkwd'wAk,' indi'win 6'hk~um&'hsAn. ha', we' YAWeke'h winah kawi'n pa'hpis uk&'ta-nipa'nan, skaapuma'tsin mita'muhsAn. usamiwd'katin; wa'htsitaw ini'win s una'nikiwa4'kah ini's as ni'mihetih. 'na's kAt nipd'w wj' yAwekeh; nikd'?ts-sj'hkanaw!' ~wa'hinlmAtsikihkwd'wis. nik~td's keh niw kAni'win wayd'pakutsih we-YAwjkehko5'hseh. 'nahd'w, nehsz'2, sa2&'h kjs-nipa'w ayum we' yAWkeh. kAt kina'ti2 utsi 'pehkAn.' ha'w, ini'2 keh nd'nikut as pitii'kua2 utsi'pehkAn s awe-'h-a~tukua2 utd'htano-wa2, wadpu'wiydn s pitd'kuhii'hkua2. 'maha'w, nehsj'2, kAt kitah-w&'pi2.' as matsi'Atva2 as ni'mihe'tih, s inim-kjmd'pitua?, nd'wi yaw mnis we kiwAMih iniwi'n as ap~'t mike hs8'neniw. 6s&' matin as-me-'hkawa'te~sit; p~2simi'kun d'wiwAnin wj'ne~nAn; as ki-sani' kit si kiw-ppim-sisikw&'pihsinukin m~'kehsj'hsAk, Mitd'MUhsAk a~sikinlA 'tu~a; awa'2 apa'2sik a-waw~'pi~tAt. sa~ye'h milsik kiw-uhnad'2num~win; as paki'tsisa'hkit, m6'sah niw mt~'kehs~hs~k kiw-a'wiwAkin. iniwi'n keh mis3i'k akuh- mita'muhSAk s kiw-a~si'kinitua2. 'ay6'sa wi'nah, nehsj'?, kinaipyA'minawv aya'wit!' jwd'hin MAtsikikkw&'wi~s. ~rim'nakah ana'pitua?, siNi'meh siwas and'mihsinin; wahk~ 's w~'F YAW iniwi'n as ni'mihetitua2 akuh mamd'tsi~tawIAk; y&'hpiis jpehk6'wiwin sik~meh. nik~td's niw isku'AhteMih i'miwin dnd'pit; I'nd'napd'n winah nap inuh 8sike'meh tsi-kAtd'w-pitehkiwdw! 2 nah&'w, ini'2 keh qa~yd'h s nina'witua2! 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 36'1 "C'est un peu tard que Plongeon amene des femmes," said Hell-Diver, talking Ojibwa. "Do call him Bead-Man; he too, you know, pretends to be that chief of ours." "Oh yes, to be sure!" they said; "Yes, Bead-Man is bringing his women!" "A la bonne heure!" he said; "Les voici qui me conaissent a present!" said Hell-Diver, going home and taking those women into his bark-house'. When evening came, "Now, Hell-Diver, our chief is going to give a dance now," he was told. So now he adressed his grandmother, "Grand'mere, apporte-moi mes jarretieres, et apres, apporte-moi du vermilion; apporte-moi mes plumes d'aigle." When she had given him all these things, he gartered both legs; and then she gave him some of that crumbly rotten wood, wood that is red in color, and he painted himself on his face; and then she gave him the tail-feathers of a jay2 for his head-dress. So then, off went Hell-Diver to join in the dance. "Now, Grandmother, keep a careful eye on ces dames," he told his grandmother. The old woman, accordingly, did not by any means go to sleep, but kept watch over the women. There was very much noise; truly inviting was the sound from where the dance was going on. "I wish this old woman would sleep; I greatly dislike her!" said Foolish Maiden. Then suddenly at one time the little old woman toppled over. "There, Little Sister, now this old woman has gone to sleep. Let us go get some tree-roots." So now they each fetched the root of a tree and laid it on their settee, covering it with the blanket-robe. "There, Little Sister, let us go look on." They went to the dance and peeped in: there in the center of the lodge sat Bead-Man. He was incredibly handsome; of chinabeads was his hair; whenever he blew his nose, the wampum-beads would simply keep pouring out, and the women would pick them up, each trying to get ahead of the others. And then again, he would cough; when he spat on the floor, it was always nothing but wampum-beads. And then these women would again gather them up. "Why, Little Sister, it is this man who is our husband!" said Foolish Maiden. When they looked over yonder, there lay Hell-Diver, face to the ground, and these people were dancing on top of him; all covered with dust was Hell-Diver. But at one time then he looked 1 The kind of house easiest to build. 2 The Canada jay or "meat-bird" (Perisoreus canadensis). 362 36~2 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi' n s nitw&'tsin w.~'wan. kkCWA'ne2'na'ki~tawin as 5n~' pahtu/c; keOts-indi'niwAn tdi'pip~ndi'win silcemeh s ahp&'kina't-sin, wahk~'ts we'YyAw as ni'mit anuh ke~ts-ind'niWAn. 'he' sikci'reh ne~ne'w lke?ts-inii'niWAn!' kalcu'Ane~nA'ki~ta'wvin lkay4'nituah as is-ku'Ahnet. iniwi'n-pih pay6'ni~tah. ta2, wi'nah MAtsicihk-Wd'wis ki'As&win, as pipim-sd'kesi'pahtulc sikci'meh, kWwdit. inim-use'hsinin as ni'sihneh anuh utsi'pel/cAn; ini'win d'ni/c6'hs3An as sa/c~pu/ut. 'pamd'h! /cisi'mdh macu,'ah niwi'hpfimCI!" jwdihin. naw~'naw sa~ye'h misik sa/c~pukin di'ni/c'hsAn. 'kAni'w! sinawa'? niw i'nun; kcehs~'h nimiiik-wj'hpemaw!' ta'2, sa?ye'h misa's niw sa/c~pukin anuh dniko6'h8An; iniwi'n-pih wdnj'pahtu~k as pdhkcwd'pinah; maydi'minuna'pahtah, utsi'pehkcAn ni's siwas aOte'wanin. nj'puw~'pahtukc 6'hkcumi'hsAn as awMh-ta~ta'hk-iskcaw&'tsin, 'kcAna' - pumin ihkcwvi'WAk kcitdt'nine'mipah!' ind'win 6'hkcum6VhsAn. kayjs-ne~na'tsin, iniwi'n-pih a'SiAt inis wj'kiwAmih. ta2, wi'nah akuh miti'muhSAk ini'win eiy~'tuh as api'tua2 mi'/ehsi'2neniWAn. iniwi'n-pih misi'/c a?8enj'hsAn d'wilh-kisyA'pehI.cisu'atsin. ni's /cay~,smeh/cu'Apeh/ci'8init, iniwi'n-pih ispd?'miah pd-pa'mi~net. siwas a nitsinihki'hsinin mi'/cehsi'2neniw, ay~'tvh anuh wj'wan s sehkcj'hsinenik. as t&wani'h/wAminit, iniwvi'n s pihtswd'pinatsin anuh a0sen~'hsAn kcayj8-mehcu,'Ape/&kisinit. ini'win as ni'pa-k/ mi'kehsi'2 -neniw. iniwi'n-pih sikci'meh kcay.~wd'pahftu/, apa"Ihsus w*jnd'?nAkc as awMh-m'fV'sine'piAtukc mehkci'h. iniwi'n-pih wdhkci'hnunit, andi'miah s8uhsd'h/cah, mdts-utdi'2sikcan s awd'ta/cs papii'mitsimdit. 'ta2 ds-papa'mnime/c?' jwd'hin ni/cut ina'niwv; -apa'2-tapa'nd2 us~'hsAn? /ca'/ch aw-ihpd'nanes~w.' sa~eh misi'k uhts~m~win inuh ni/cu't: 's3ikcimdi'h, kcisj'h /cs-nipu'ah, /cisj'h!' '6hwa', nbit6'imam!1' ~wdi'hin, as Pats*'s/ahah inih wind'2na/c. meh/cit'h si yii'pitS si'si/cwd'pa/cuhi'win. 'k-itd'ninemu'Apah! ta'2. teh winah as w~'htam5'wd{I/c?' iwdi'hin. iniwi'n-pih misi'/c mayat'tsiAt si/cj'rehs awjh-pdts-/cisj'2sit. iniwin 'si/cj'meh wine'? niw kcay~,s-ne~na'tsin mi'/cehsi'?neniwan!' ~wd'llin. ini'win-pih paydp&'s/cetsi'suh. si /ci-/cehtpi'2tawin. 'si'/caweWA/c pis-nd'tahi'tua2, pas ninii'pim,' iwii'hin si/ci'reh. kArn'! keh8j'h nimik-wF,'hpemaw! 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 363 over toward the door; there he caught sight of his wives. With a sudden jump he got up; an old man did Hell-Diver seize, and threw him on the ground and danced over that old man's back. "Hey, Hell-Diver is killing an old man!" He gave a sudden leap and jumped away from that place. Then the dance was over. Foolish Maiden concealed herself as Hell-Diver came running past out of the lodge. He went home and lay down between those two tree-roots; then some ants bit him. "Attends un peu; d'abord, je couche avec ta cadette!" he said. Soon the ants bit him again. "Oh, wait! Keep quiet; I am sleeping with your younger sister!" But by this time the ants were biting him all over; he leaped up, throwing off the cover; when he looked closely, there lay two treeroots. He jumped to his feet and ran over and began to kick his grandmother; "Didn't I tell you, 'Keep an eye on ces dames?"' he said to his grandmother. When he had done killing her, he went to that other lodge. Of course, there lay those women on either side of Bead-Man. Then he went back and heated some pebbles. When a couple of them had come to a red glow, he flew up into the air. There lay BeadMan on his back, and on either side lay a wife. As he lay sleeping with his mouth open, Hell-Diver dropped in those red-hot pebbles. That was the death of Bead-Man. Thereupon Hell-Diver ran home and there filled a deer's paunch with blood. He put it round his neck, so as to wear it under his clothing, and took a big knife with him and went canoeing. "Tell the news to Hell-Diver: 'Your uncle has died,'" was said of him. "Why bother to tell him?" said one man; "You know how fond he is of his uncle. He will do some harm to himself." But then someone called out: "Hell-Diver, your uncle is dead, your uncle!" "Dear me, my chief!" he cried, and stabbed that deer's paunch. The blood simply kept pouring down. "Didn't I tell you! Why did you have to tell him about it?" said that man. Then Hell-Diver went off again and washed himself clean. Then he came again in his canoe. "It was none other then Hell-Diver killed Bead-Man!" he cried. Then they began to shoot at him with guns. He merely kept ducking under the water. "If the widows come after me in a canoe, it will be the death of me," said Hell-Diver. 364 364 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 'n4'tah5'hkun,' mnd'wAkin sekawe'wAk. as nd'tahatua?, ini'win as k6'icpunii'sin, wi'nah nap siki'meh as k~hkii'?tAt. ini'win md'wawv sikct'MehsAk as d'witua2. ini'? ma'waw. MOCCASIN-GAME SONG. (Jerome Lawe) sik~meh wi'nah wj'matAn wine'pa? niw kay~yawamiit, kayi'yawamdt. kii'p! 97. LYNX TRIES TO KILL A STAG. (md'sinilku'puwiw) wawi'kiwin Iceh pisZ'w; tipi'kiin a wiwin inith wi'1k. wine'? nisi'Ic niw nilcu'n. ni niw a wiwin. nik~tui's niw ayuyu'wik, 'nahd'w, pAs niki8s-pahpj'8im,' inli'nihtAmin. ini'win Ikeh s wd'puhnet. nikc6'td& niw as mak-puPim6'hnet, iniwi'n s nei'mik mAMA'tsi?taWAk tsi-kIes-wi'lkitua?. -ani'nuh apuana'htikun iniwi'n as a'?tilkin as ahku'ahkihnui'hkin. iniwi'n teh 4na"'nihtah, 'an6'? keh lkAna'patts updi'sketsi'sikAnu'wawan tsiw-ii'wikin aku'm MAMa'tsi~tawAk,' ind'nihtA'min. nahu'w, iniwi'n sa?ya'h ini'h nikut pis-pimi'w-utii'hpinah. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih teh mayii'tSiAt misik., s pap&'miniku'tah inih apuana-'htilk. ha'w, nik6'tds niw, mdk-pim6'hnet, kAniwi'n ni'w md'ts-aya-'pd~w mnis nay~'puwit. & A, sinawii'? niw nawindtW'tsin, ke?tsi'h nim-a'wik, ini'? sa?yui'h inuh ayui'putw s rdiwa'tsin aninuh pisj'wAn s pitsnawindi'hukut. Md'w, ini'? 3a?ydi'h s kAtdw-wd'pejt, ktui'w-wsi'&mit inuh ayui'pdw. 'hi'? i' i' i'?!pit'n winah wdpZ'nun! kina-p&'sketsi'sun! kxn-di'? kindi'minan y6'm nipd'sketsi'silkan? anu'? ayd'wilkin MAmct'tSi?taWAk upd'sketsi'sikanu'wawan,' indi'win. wa'h, ayui'pdw iniwi'n keh 8 nakdi'?tat. ha', as ni-nu'sehkawu'tsin pis~w, sakA'nah misik ini-td'pina'tsin, ini'wi'n-pih misik kd'ta-wd-'pit inuh aydi'pew. 'hi'? j' 'i' 0'! po-n wa-pe'nun, kitdi'nin! wahu'h kina-pa'sketsi'sun! ume'? y6'm nipu'S8ketsi'sikAn!' ind'win. I Foreign form. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 365 "Go after him in a canoe!" the widows were told. When they went for him in the canoe, Hell-Diver reached out and tipped them over, at the same time upsetting himself. Thereupon they all three turned into hell-diver ducks. That is all. MOCCASIN-GAME SONG. (Jerome Lawe.) Hell-Diver of his brother1 He was jealous, he was, He was jealous. Splash! 97. LYNX TRIES TO KILL A STAG. (Masinikapuwiw) Somewhere dwelt Lynx; a one-man lodge was his dwelling. All alone he was there. Then, at one time or another, "Now then, I might as well be ahunting," thought he. He began to walk. At one place, as he walked along, he came upon a site where some people must have been camping. There stood some spits upright in the ground. Then he thought, "I suppose these things must be the guns of those people." He went up to one of the spits and took it. Then he went off, carrying that roasting-spit across his shoulder. As he walked along, suddenly, there stood a big buck. Very quietly he crept up to it, and had come quite close, when the stag saw Lynx stealing near. It started to run for its life. "Tut, tut, tut, tut! Don't you run! I'll shoot you! Don't you see my gun here? It is one of those guns the human people have," he told him. Ho, the stag really did stop. Lynx came nearer and nearer and again had got almost within reach of it, when again that stag started to run. "Tut, tut, tut, tut! Don't you run, I tell you! Honestly, I'll shoot you! Look you here at my gun!" he told him. 1 Informant says that Bead-Man was Hell-Diver's younger brother. The song would, of course, be unintelligible if the story were not known. 366 366Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII h&'w, ini' 2 keh nalca'?tAt ay&'paw; iniwi'n keh as nim-misan&'tsin; u~td'hpehkAn kay&s-pehk5'nah, sa~c~windi'hpinatsin. 1MAta, mini leh sMdts3yA'tua?, inim-sakdiPind'tsin. ha-'w, iniwi'n sa~ydi'h as piAtd'tua? mnis wj'kih pis~'w. hi'w, nand'ku,'htiah iniwi'n as awMh-ke~t'hkkWAha'tsin,. 'nah&'w, y6's s&'sehk~hsih,' ind.'win. ha-'w, iniwi'n keli s nip&'tua?. ini'2 sa~yd'h as u'ld'pah. h&'w, iniwin-pih sa.?yd'1h way~'htam~wa'tsin: 'nahd'w, aya'pdw, kik-i'taw-ni'mihin keh; y6'm teh nj'k kina-kia~tdi'hsimim; ni'w-inuh kina-kia~t&'hs3imim. ini'?-pih aw-6na'ki yen; ini'?-pih tehkldi'tane~ni'nan as kAtiW-M6' nan,' ini' win ayii'pdw. 'wi'yah& wihci' wih&', wi'yah& wihd' wa'hihd'!1' iniwi'n 'i'nahah s ni'mi/&atsin ayctpa'WAn. hd'w, iniwi'n sa~ydi'h ni's-i nuh s kia~td'hsimit ayii'pdw. hMAta? ii2 W' e dnidynPidnhAmn p&'hkiht&'hnenin teh wi'nah inih w~'k inuh ~pisj'w. 'nahd'w, nina-kutsW'tam lkeh as aw-usi'mi yen,' in.d'nihtamin, inuh aya,'pdw. ini? saydi'h, imis nanii'kuhtyah pimi'hsimit, sa~ydt'h 1kaygs-pitsrnya'wi~tAt, ni?-pi'h tsi-kiihtsi'?net. &'pehtA' nisik niw pai'pelhtsinin; rnisi'k s ku,'ahnet, imis aku,'atsih, ini? s pdi'pehtsih. iniwi'n niw d'hpakitah inih upd'sketsi'sikan, pimj'nisihdTtsin. m&'waw iniwi'n, iniwi'n niw winah ap ihpih ini-paipa&Ipehtsih. rnk~tii's me'?tik tsi-pim&'hkihsin; ispa'hkihsini'n inuh me'?tik. nuh aydi'pdw, ini'win, ni-p&'sitsi'pisit; m&'?, ini? wi'nah ap pis~w, tsip&'sitsi'pisit imi's, s p&'pehtsih, me'?tik mnis s tsg'patsih. mnis y6'win uhldi'hnih s pe~tdi'hkihsih. iniwi'n keh s yJ'hpi'tsiZ'hsih. ta'?, as &d' - sehk~hsih ki'seh di'hkwah, kAni'w imi's saka'nah nayi'k, iniwi'n-pih ayd'piskAt. 'w6'h, nipdi'minisih5'pah ay&'pdiw!' ind'nihtA'min. y~m a'si?tAt uhkdi'hnih, y&Ihpi'ts niw pi'kihne'nin yo 'm wes. 'h~hwa'h!' indi'nihtAmin. h&'w, iniwi'n keh na'p s a?tu'ahpitfik ini'h was. iniwi'n keh s kWwdft. mni'? d'hkwAtsimi'yen. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 367 Then the stag stopped; he went and caught it; untying his packstrap, he bound the stag by the antlers. "There; now let's be off; we shall go to my house," he said to him. So they went, Lynx guiding the stag by the strap. Soon they reached Lynx's house. At the rear of the lodge he tied him fast. "Just you lie here," he told him. Then they slept. Morning came. Then he told him, "Now then, Stag, I am going to have you dance; round about this house of mine you are to dance; four times you are to dance the round of it. Then you will be fat, and that is when I shall kill you and eat you," that stag was told. Then he sang: "Wee-ya-hah wee-ha wee-ha, Wee-ya-hah wee-ha wa-hee-hah!" he chanted as he made the stag dance. So now twice did the stag dance round the lodge. "And this, I suppose, is when I die!" he thought. But it happened that the door-flap of Lynx's house was hanging open. "Well then, I might as well try to escape," thought the stag. So then, when over yonder, past the rear end of the lodge, he was dancing, he righted himself, and off he flew with a spring. Halfway across the lodge, he fell; he leapt up, and outdoors, there again he fell. "Hoho, my chattel is running away!" exclaimed Lynx. He flung down his gun and ran in pursuit. He too kept falling every little ways. Then, in one place, a tree must have lain across the way; it lay high across the path. The stag darted across and ran on; but when Lynx tried to bound across, he fell against that tree. Right here, with his forehead he bumped against that tree. He was knocked silly by his fall. He lay there all that day; not until the sun had almost set did he come back to his senses. "Whew, I was chasing a stag, wasn't I?" he thought. When he did like this, at his forehead, why his head was entirely smashed. "Dear me!" he thought. Then there was nothing for him to do but bandage his head. He went home. That is as far as my story goes. 368 368 Publiccations, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 98. A THUNDERER IS CAPTURED BY UNDERGROUND SERPENTS. (kdi'hsikew) e~'h-akum pay&'pitiwdi'kisitua2 ind'mehlkiWAl kutdi'2s s wawi'kitua2, iwahdi'w, unitti'AnehsAn, mita'muhsAn ct'wiwAnin nilcu't, misi'k nikut apdhni'h8An nahd~'nisiWAnin. naha'w, nik~tds8mf7?sa'hkWAtin, kawi'n kutd'2nas &'nahkWAt as ak56'tdkl. nahdi'w, ini'win s papd'm-uti'hnapit inuh mit4'muh. nah&'w, ini~wi' n as nawa'tsin wd~si'kiwAn tsiw-&'winit natawA'puma'tsin. Md'w, iniwin s pas~pahatsin. nah&'w, iniwi'n as awii'tahunikut ani'nuh. nd'muahin wAts'w pakdi'kwAteh. nah&'w, iniwi'n teh kayj'8-8alka'nah-,payi'Atat1 inih WA15~'W, iniwin as s6'hkuna'kihsih. ha'w, iniwi'n tah ~nipi'hih as pii'pehtsih. ha'w, iniwi'n s kjs-mamj'kut awd'tukcAn. inuh mitdi'muh misi wj'kih. ha'w, inuh mitii'muh iniwi'n uhpd'niAn, mAMa'tsi~taw-uhpcd'niAn iniwin as ki-m6'nahatsin. iniwin wdihpimd'tesitua? ani'nuh uhsj'meh8An. nahdi'w, nik6'ds ini'win s nikdnd'tsin anuh uhs~'mehs~n s a-n'ii'tikenit. nahJ'w, nik~tdi's as nikdnd'tsin, iniwin apd~hni'hSAn as pi'2?tAkut. h&'w, iniwi'n s pdpdkahati'tua2 misi pi'htik misi w~'kwa2. nahaw, inuh mitdi'muh payi'AtI ydi'hpits uhpdi'2tewin inih w~'k. nah&'w, iniwin d'ts inuh mitdt'muh: 'ta'? tdh wi'nah ninA's, nehsW'2 s uhpdi'8kAtsikdi'yAn?' hd'w, misi'k maya'tsiAt inuh mitd'mu.h, h&'w iniwin-pih payi'At misi'k inuh apdhni'hseh. iniwin a kut: 'nahd'w, ni~a't, kimZ'hin y6'm kAn ukj's-mini'nihtenan; tsiy&'w aku,'Atsih kits-awjh-pdi'kahati2.' hd'w, iniwi'n s peikahati'tua2 ini's aku,'Atsih. nah&'w, iniwi'n dnd'tsin: 'nah&'w, ni~a't, nih ni'w ini'kuh; 8a24'h hd'w, misi'k way&'pah iniwi'n niw misi'k payi'At inuh apadhni'hseA. kawi'nw upe'kahati'nuwawan; iniwi'n niw s a-,yapii'2situa2. iniwin a kut: 'ha'w, ni~a't, k6'hnin kitd'siA2, k6-'hnina'wak kitdi'iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsiAt inuh apehni'hseh, kayjs-ki'skikinii'tin anuh wej'matan. ' For Pi'Atdt. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 369 98. A THUNDERER IS CAPTURED BY UNDERGROUND SERPENTS. (Kahsikew) These very Thunderers, who now are approaching with noise,' once upon a time some of them dwelt in a place; of the Thunderman's children, one was a woman and the other a little boy. Now once there was a clear day with not a cloud in the sky. So then his brother-in-law said to him, "Come, brother-in-law, take me about in your canoe; I want to hunt fish with the spear." As they went about, the woman sat in the stern of the boat. Then he saw that being, whatever kind it was,2 which he was seeking. So then he transfixed him with his spear.3 Then his canoe was dragged along by that being. He saw a hill that led down to the water. When he had come almost to that hill, he slipped from the canoe. He fell into the water and was taken by the spirit-being. So then the woman went home. The woman continued to weep there in her house. Then the woman used to dig potatoes, Indian potatoes.4 That was what she and her little brother lived on. Then, at one time, she left her little brother to stay alone in the house. Now, when she left him, at one time then there came to him another boy. The two played lacrosse indoors there, right in the house. When the woman came home, the house was all in disorder. Then said that woman, "Little brother, why in the world have you been tramping about here and throwing things into disorder?" When the woman had gone away again, again there came that boy. Then the other said to him, "Now, friend, our older sister did not like this; we shall have to go out of doors to play lacrosse." So they played lacrosse out of doors. Then he said to the other, "That is enough. Soon our older sister will come." On the next day that boy came again. They did not play lacrosse; what they did was to take a sun-bath. Then said the other to him, "Now, friend, let us go to our father; let us go to our fathers. Come, put your arms about me," he said to him. Away then went the boy, having put his arms about his friend. 1A storm was drawing up just as the narrator, in his hut in the forest, began this story. 2 Euphemism for underground serpent, who is scarcely ever named. 3 Of lightning. 4 In contrast with the usual fare of the Thunderers, the flesh of the underground beings. She had no man to hunt for her. 24 370 370Publication~s, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'kalci'pihki'2tah!' ilku'ahin anuh w~'matan. payd'kwAts anmimi'tim ini'winda8yA'nilcut. nah&'w, iniwi'n-pih lkd'ldcinah. payd'kwAts s kes-piAtd'tua2 imis an&'miah aydts-pd'hlkik, iniwin s ndw&'tua2 anuh mihkdi'na'hlkun; iniwin sku,'Ahtem kd'piskah. 'hd'w, And's! nitd'wats-pem5'hnem.' 'kAn nitdkd'nan wi' yAk uMA's s pas jpim6'hnet.' 'nahdiw, kAn kina'h kitdipd'nihtanan kj'yAw; nine'? tdpd'niminan.' iniwi'n-pih nim-pim5'hnetua. s/kAs ni'w ihpih payiAtct'tua2, Ihd'w, iniwi'n s ndw&'tua2 pisj'wAn. iniwin m'tsi'k s kipei'skah sku'Ahtern. h&'w, iniwin and'p pdi'kiten&'tsin misi'k. nahud'w, inim-pim6'hnetua2, iniwin s nawa'tsin ind'fliwAn s An'mapinit; usa-wa',peh y6'win S is-uw~'nahpisit. ayj'tuh niw misi'k uma'nalcah inuh apdhni'hseh iniwi'n as n~'puwit; iniwi'n s nendw&'tsin; ani'? teh 8'hnan anuh inis nipi'hih 1cayjs-pdi'pehtsindi'nik. ind'ni tcdh d'wiwin umdt'uin elswd'peh, ani'? us5'wawan ay&'wilcin; ini'? teh s mami'tspinikut ani'nuh. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih pis-mats yA'tua?; ani'nuh mihldini'hkun minwin 8 pis-naw&'tina'tsin ani'nuh. iniwin-pih misi'k kayiskikinii'tin mi'sik. 'haz'w, ni?at, kaki'pihki'2tah!' nahii'w, kd'hkinah, iniwin s piAta/tua? inis w~'k-5wa2. iniwvi'n-pih kaye~'kitutawa'tsin umj'hsAn: 'nahat'w, nimi'?, pi'Anun! kdi'k~h nipit3'minaw UMA's! sake'katdna'win anum mihkdmni'hkun. iniwin~-pih inuh mitdi'muh, ut&'kas lea ys-naw&'tinah, rndtdpi'pahtuk. sa~ydi'h kdi'ta-pAkdm&'tsin, iniwin-pih kayiAn&'tsin anuh wj'matan. pAlcamd'tsin, slc6'tdw iniwin as pasj'pihneh. iwini'n-pih ldi'hkinah inuh mitd'muh Wi' YAn S kiwit6hkawatsin. 'zvwawanin mni's s sawdnimj'yah s a-ldi'2ts-mi'tsihsiyah!' nah&'w, nik~td's misik pakahati'tua?, iniwin Wikut: 'naha'w, misi'k kAts kitd'sia2 k6'hninawAk!' 'nahd'w!' iniwi'n-pih kay~s-ki'skikind'tsin, ahpd'n iniwin ldi'hkinah misi'k. ini's s tsi-y~h-pd'hkipA'nik, ini'win s kehkj'nah. nahd'w, iniwinn misi' s mitfi'mnitua? inih mi'hikan. pisZ'wAn ani'nuh s ndwii'tua2, ini'h-pih ni Si nim-pem6'hnewAkin. iniwin sn~'puw~'2tawatsin anuh 6'hnan. ts'2napumni'kut, md'wanin anuh 6'hnan tsW'napu'mikut. lud'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k pis-mdtsyA'tua?. iniwin s pi's-nawd'tinatsin anuh pis-'wan niku't. 'imi's awih-i'nun; ini? d's n6'hne'?; inim n~'kin6 ini'win aw~'hkanii'pahta'man.' iniwi'n-pih pis-awdnii'tua?. iniuwin-pih misi'k mdimi'ahtuma'tsin umj'hS~xn, tsi-ntamei'tsin. utdi'kas kaye-s-naw&'tinah, h&'w, iniwi'n 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 371 "Close your eyes," said his friend to him. For it was under water that he was.being taken. Then he came back to his senses. For now they had come to the place down below where it is again dry land; there they saw that turtle; he was blocking the doorway. "Go, step away from there; I am walking through!" "I was not told that anyone could walk through here." "You are not master of yourself; it is I who am your master." Then they walked right past.When they had gone a ways farther, they saw a lynx. He too stood blocking the doorway. He flung him also off to one side. Then, as they walked along, he saw a man who sat facing yon way. With copper he was girded round. He went and stood on this side and on that, and then he recognized him: it was his father, who had fallen into the water there. There was a man there, lying, like this, on his back. There was also a. woman; and thus lay two of them. The copper, it was their tails. Thus was he held fast by them. Then they started to go back. He picked up the turtle on his way, and then again he embraced his friend. "Close your eyes, my friend!" Then he came to his senses, and they reached the dwelling. Then said the other to him, "Please, my friend, make entreaty to our older sister." So then he spoke to his sister, "Come, my older sister, we are bringing something, out here!" He was holding the turtle by the leg. Then the woman, taking her war-club as she went, ran down to the water. When she was about to strike it, hehidhis friend. She struck it, andthere descended the transfixing flash of fire. Then the woman knew that he was consorting with someone. "Thanks! You have brought a gift to us; now we shall have much good fare." Once, when they were again playing lacrosse, the other said to him, "Come, let us again go to our fathers." "Yes!" So, when he had put his arms round him, again he lost consciousness. There where the way began to be dry, he came back to his senses. Again they followed that path. When they saw the lynx, without further ado they simply walked by. Then he stood close to his father; his father looked at him, and wept as he looked at him. Then they started away again to come back, and on the way he took with him that lynx. "Go and stay there; my father says so; in our house out yonder he says you are to stand watch." Then they took it with them. Thereupon again he entreated his sister, calling her to him. Taking up her war club, she came running 24* 372 372 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pih pis-MAtapi'pahtuk. iniwi'n-pihb layiAnd'tgin anuh we'matAn. iniwin s pAkdma'tsin inuk mita'muh;, sk3'tliw iniwin s pagj'pihneh. waya'pah iniwi'n-pih mis3i'kc payi'A t inuh apahni'hseh. 'nahd'w, ni~a't, nj'kina'nua2 kitd'.SiA2.' iniwin misi'k s ki',slikind'tsin anuh wj'matAn. nah&'w, paydihkawa'tesit, mi'hikan rnisi'k u'j'kiWAP,. pi'htike'WAkin. mitd'muh8Ak ni's ape'WAlcin. inukh um~'hsimaw tsiwli'wit: 'ta'2 tdh winah ayu,'m a's3i?tAt anum as3 pi'htikatu,'Anah?' MiMd'ki~tAt, rndsk-d'n niw ahlc&'2sik sd'k-ihsinin, kehtdi'?tat. ini'win-pih aydy&'ne~na'tsin: 'UMj'h8An pi8-tapiWi 'Atame'nikifl, md,'mik niw kki-sd'kisi'MUAW. ini'2 wdi'htsi~ta yen, kinu,'a? sdwd'niminakuic, wd'h s uwt~'mati yen.' mis~' wd ni sit' nien niw &' wiwin inih w~'lcuwaw. nahei'w, iniwi'n-pih pis-MdtsyA'tua2. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih wayj'htam~wd'tsin: 'naha'w, ni~a't, Mh-y5'm k~hnina'wak ini's as i'tua2, ini'2 ni'nah aw-wj'h-y~h-Icitsj'2tayan. ini's s pipd'Ikihneh, jnj'2 a-y5'h-kits8j'2tayAn. mni'? tdh s awij'h-hk5 -ndi'hi yen. kimj'hin ini'? s a-kehkjwdi'htuk. lcAn e'? tdh wi'yAk lkitdnawimd'kanuwdw kutd'?nas s a'w-it, 1kina-teh-kutsi'munaw.' nahd~'w, iniwi'n-pih mayatsyA'tua?, d'sipd'hkihki'w inih tsiwihlku'ahtawe'tua2. ini'win pis-y6'h-kitsW'tAt; ayu' tdh 5fZ?8AWikiniipik8'hs8eh iniwin sj'kiw ayd'wit. hd'w, inu/& mitti'muh, me'7tiku'ahseh ini'win as ts3j'patsih, iniwi'n s nAtdWd'pinutawa'tsin ani'nuh. hd'w, ini'? s keh~cwd'htuk. 'naha'w, ii'?!kahpi'h umA'8pyA'tua?, lki'spin teh a-wi'hlkihtu'kua?, ini'? a-pis-y~h-kii'htinak inuh k6'hnuwaw. nd' keh na'p nits3-pe?takana'mikuk-eh.' hd'w, iniwi'n-pih: 'kitid'hin k-ina-wjh-wej'htam~wd'wAk.' mi'p iniwi'n-pih may&'tsiAt. nahd'w, md'ts-wAtsej'w, nimd'hkiah ini'win s a'?tilk we'lciwAm, Md't-we'IcwAm. wd'ts niw iniwin wdhfli'AkU~t. 'nahd'w, kcAn nd'SAp uts-pi 'Anan; l-di'k-h ts3iw-d'wiw,' iwd'hin 6?nd'h - simaw. tsiw-d'yutsimikut utd'hs~n, hat'w, iniwi'n-pih aya'ts3imit: 'n6'hne? nikis-maIhka'mike'minaw; nilku't tdh apdhni'kseh nikjs-6wjI'matim; mnu'? tdh wayej'htam5'wit. a', nimj'h tdh kejs-kehkcjwd'htaw: ini'? a's pipdi'kah inih w~'kNwaw, mii'? teh n6'hne? as V h&'w, iniwi'n-pilh dnun~a'tsin matsi'hkiwis inuh ts8iw-&'wit: 'nahd'w, kit&'wats-nd'siwe?; minuti'hSAn kita'wats-ndsiwd'htu,?. naha'w, ne?tapi'At, ki'nah na'tih a-nii'siweyah! nahu'w, kini'payi'At! ini'? awis-ni'siyelk.' lkAnAmehtsi'w uhpu,'Ak-An ahpj'htamih, iniwi'n-pih payit~md'tsin; ay5' teh mi?siki'nepilc k-i'w-inih, iniwi'n isj'kiWAn payut~md'tsin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 373 down to the bank. Then he hid his friend. The woman struck it, and there came the piercing descent of fire. "Thanks! I shall have food for a long time." On the next day, that boy came again. "Come, friend, let us go again to my house." Thereupon he again put his arms about his friend. When he regained his senses, there was a path and a lodge. They entered. Two women sat there. Said she who must have been the older, "What, pray, is he doing, to bring this person into our dwelling?" She shook her whole body until at last she scarcely stood forth, having sunk into the ground. Then he scolded her: "Whenever his older sister reaches here with her sound, by all means you are wont to be frightened. That is why I am doing this; it is you on whom I am taking pity; that is why I have taken him for my friend." Of bright metal throughout was that house of theirs. Then they came away. Then he explained to him, "Now, my friend, from this place where are our fathers I shall come forth; from there where the earth lies thinnest I shall come forth. And do you go there and watch for me. Your sister will there mark the place. We shall ask her if there are not somewhere kinsfolk of yours." So then they went from there, climbing a rocky height. There he came forth; he was in the form of a garter-snake. A little tree was standing there; the woman struck it with a flash of lightning. Thus she marked it. "Good! When they come here, if they are able to do it, from here I shall push forth your father. Of course, they may strike me by mistake." Then: "You will go tell our uncles of it." Early in the morning he started forth. Then, a big hill; at the very top stood a house, a large house. A long ways off he was seen by them. "Oh, surely he comes not without reason; something it must be," said the oldest of the brothers. His uncles kissed him, and then he related, "We have been robbed of our father, but I have made friends with a boy and he has told it to me, and my sister has marked it, the place where their dwelling is thinnest, and there is my father." And then Matsihkiwis, he it must have been, commanded one: "Now, we shall first hold a feast; we shall first give a feast for the war-bundles. Na'tapiat, do thou fetch that upon which we shall feast. And thou, Kinipayiat; thus ye shall be two." Not yet had a pipe been smoked to the end, when he came bringing it on his back; that being which is called a hairy underground serpent, one of that kind he brought on his back. 374 374Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'naha'w, wa'pah mi'~p nina-mcttsyA'minaw!' iniwi'n-pih maya'tSiAt inuh apehni'hseh, ydh-k.j'wdt. nahud'w, weyd'pah mi'p iniwin-pih taydpipwi'Atahkua?. iniwi'n-pih mayatsi'Atua?. inuh mitd'muh ini'8 tdh s kis-kehkjwa'htuk, iniwi'n s a-wi'kitua2. hd', pi8-piAtdi'tva?, iniwin s paka'htahlkua2. si kan&' - slcihsinin inuh a'sipeh, pilc'WAkAnama't'ua2. ayd'tskwAt inuh tsiw&'wit inil'win teA ayCI'hpits-p5'hpekana'htah neh. nah&'w, min'win pasi'pahatua2 anuh awd'tukAn; iniwin nayi's s ne~ni'htua2 aki'lkuh 1kay~'8-mami'tspinatua2 anuh in&'niwAn. iniwi'n-pih misi pis-y,5hkd~'htina'tsin anuh ind'niWAn inuh apahni'hsch. iniwin-~pih wdta'hpina'tsin inuh mit&'muh anuh 5'hnAn. ha'w, iniwi'n &na'tsin anuh uhs~'rehSAn inuh mitd'muh: 'naha'w, nehsj'2, lki'Asin ki'mat; a-pe~takaname'WAk kifti'hin.' iniwi'n-pih kayi'skikinj'tsin anuh w~'matan. 'naha'w, ta'2 tdh aw-isj'kih? td'2 and'nihtAmak? ay6 k6'hnuwaw, kd'maw y6'8 niw kAta'w-it, kunirna'w mis3ik kina-mahlca'mikimuAw. tsiy&'w pas nitd'wanu'naw. na's kAt kinu'a2 y6's niw i'kun. nawj'naw kina-pi 'ArnUAW.' nahd'w, iniwi'n-pih a'kut anuh Wj'MAtAn ani'nuh teh uk6'2simawan as rn~'nikut; sae'h ta'p ma 'niw a'wiw. ini'win and'tsin anuh umZ'AsAn: 'nim~'nikc ayum n~'mat anuh,uk6'2sima'wan.' 'kAn kita'p-a winan mita'mith s pas kAna'wihat,' iku'ahin anuh umnb'hsAn. 'wahtsi'ta, niw nitdnd'nihtAn mj'ninan akuh nik6'?sima'WAk!' iniwin d'kut. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih 4'wani'kut. payi'Atat, ini'win ana'tsin anuh ulc6'2sima'wan: 'naha'w, kinu'a2 ki-sawa'niminakuk payi'tiwakisitu'awin. ta'2-nakah pas mayi'hkinesimi'yak? ini'2 wd'h niw ini'h as inA'nihtAMAn.' ha'w, ini'win pis-awana'tsin ani'nuh mita'muhsAn mayj'nih inuh apahni'hseh. naha'w, pi8-piAtd'tua2, mnis wZ'lk~wa2, tsi-pi'htiket inuh apdhni'hseh: 'naha'w, nimi'2, nipina'wAk akuk mita'muhsAk!' 'e ya', nehs'2, ta'? teA aw-is~kimalkah? kAn kina-wi'Alcihanuwawan as aw-pimd'natua2. naha'w, kAni'w kina-pi'htike'MUAW; nita'wats-us~'htun y6' Wk'linaw.' pahpa'winilcdt inuh mitd'muh, Usa'matin 6.-und'h inih wZ'k~waw. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih payi'htikanad't-sin anu'h wayitsiwa'tsin. ha'w, ini'?; indi'niw sa~e'h, s kes-MAMa'tsin mitd'MUhsAn. ha'w, iniwi'n s3 mini'nihtah inuh apiihni'hseh sa~a'h3 s Us-pehtd'kut anuA w~'?tawan s mamd'nilc anum uk6'2sima'wan. naha'w, iniwi'npiA kay~kitutawa'tsin anuh ulk6'2sima'wan. sii'n yen a'wiwAkin aki'kuh rnitd'mnuhsAk. ini'win tdh maye-na'tua? anuA way-ttsiwa'tua2, may~nd'tua? inih kay~s-p5?sd'hkahkua?; sii'n yen niw a wiwAnin mui'wa niw p6'2sehkakanuwii'wan; ani'win tdA mayteni'tua? anuA wayitsiwd'tua?. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih d'sit mayind'tsin inuh mitd'muh ani'nuh apdhni'hSAn inih w~'kuwaw tsiw-ina'2tik; ma'wa niw inuh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 375 "So then tomorrow morning we shall start forth." Then the lad departed and went home. Early the next morning, all the way came their noise. Then the woman and her brother set out. Where she had made the mark, there they were to pitch camp. When they arrived, they struck the place. The rock sank down in fragments; they had splintered it with their blow. He who came last succeeded in striking completely through the rock. Thereuponthey transfixed those spirit-beings; the two were then slain who had held fast that man. Then that boy pushed forth that man from there, and the woman took him up, her father. Then the woman said to her younger brother, "Now, brother, hide your friend; our uncles will hit him by mistake." Thereupon he put his arms round his friend. "Well now, how do you want it to be? If your father here stays in this place, perhaps he will again be taken from you. Perhaps we had better take him along with us. You can stay here, if you like. After a while you will come." Then his friend told him that he would give him his sisters. He was grown up now. He said to his older sister, "My friend is giving me his sisters." "You are not mature enough to keep a wife," his sister told him. "I am truly eager to give you my sisters," said the other to him. Then the other took him along. When he got there, he said to his sisters, "Now, it is you whom I always pity, whenever they come with noise. Whither can you flee for safety? That is why I have planned this." So then that lad took back with him the women he had been given. When they reached the lodge, the lad entered. "Here, sister, I bring these women!" "Alas, brother, how will this be You will not be able to care for them. Well, soon you may enter; I shall first arrange this house of ours." The woman shook things out: wonderfully beautiful was their dwelling. Then she led her sisters-in-law into the house. So now he was a man, having taken wives. Then that youth was glad that his brother-in-law had obeyed him and taken his sisters. So now he spoke to his sisters. Of bright metal were those women. Then they gave their sister-in-law the clothes which they had worn; of bright metal were all their garments; these were what they gave to their sister-in-law. Thereupon in return that woman gave the youth the furnishings of their house; 376 376Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Apewa'wayAlk iniwin d'8inakuah inih wjlcuwaw. naha'w, ii'? tdh mayZ'nih inuh apdhni'hseh. 'nahd'w, wdwd''nin! y6'2 wdhtisi'yen wdh kAtdW-uwej'?tawi yen; y6'? tdih ds-mehsdi'nimakua? nimd'tim6`hseMAlc-.' pa pisd'pahse? tsiw-nitsi'Anun tsi-ndiwd'tsin; us&d'matin d8s-mZ'hkawatesit inuh, apdhni'hseh &'wiwin, uki'2sAn. ini'win-pih kAt tsimini'nihtah inuh umj'hsimaw unZ'kihiI.kuwa'Wan as kZ8s-mi'kinit ani'nuh uhsZ'mehsuwd'wan. 'nahd'w, tsiyd'w Z'h-ayum nita'nini'Aminaw, anuh 6'hnAn kaye-sihpdi'nanimih, tsiyd'w ini'2 aw-i8eZ'1ih.' and'mahkiah uma'nakah ini'2 as papamd'hkuna'tsin ani'nuh utd' niniAMuwa'wan, ani'nuh teh 6'hnan kayeZ's-ihpdi'nani'mih, ini'h teh niw wina'h ap inih s aw-ihpd'nanih. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih kdnUAw&d'tsin anuh wi~'2tawan inuh apdhni'hseh: 'nalu2'w, ni~a't, Z' h-a yum unu'hsimaw p~n tse'k isi'Anun; ki'spin t8Z'k isi'yen, inih k6'hne2 kayjs-ihpd'nanih ini'? kdi'taw-ihpdi'naneh. ayu'm kuyd'k pimd'tesiw, ayum uhse~mimaw; tsiyd'w ay6'w nisi'k niw ke2 -tsi'h uhtii'nimin, kAnA'mehtsiw kutdi'w as is~kih.' iniwi'n-pih ini's wds&'mihkUAMit; iniwi'n ahpd'n kdi'hkinah. ini'? as Ikjs-andi'mah~cah-isyA'nikut. nayi'suku~nalcah, ini'win-pih inuh apdhni'hseh nditi'wdimi'tsin anuh 6'hnAn. nah&'w, inuh mitd'muh tsi-ki-pap&'m-nay~m&'tsin anuk unitsyA'nehsmn, nik6'tds iniwin s nehk6'sit inuh mitd'muh. iniwi'n-pih kayUkitutawa'tsin anuh wayitsiw&'tsin: 'nahdi'w, kWseh nit~ndi'hin; ini'? s aw-Us8Z'htawan md'ts-a~si'kan.' ho'w, iniwi'n-pih d'wih-pa~sah&'tsin 1cWsehkcAn; iniwin m4'tsa?,silkan as usZ'htuk. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih may~n&'tsin anuh utdi'hkwAnd'h8An. h&'w, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsiAt, kay&s-nayi'hit anuh units yA'nehsAn. mni'? tdh as isi'At aninuh unapy'MAn kaye-s-and Imahkiah — isi 'Animih. payi 'Atdt, siwas AndMApZ'win; usdwd'peh i8-uw~'nehkA'Min. iniwin-pih inuk mitdi'muh units yA'nehsAn teh k6'hteha'tsin inih a0si'kan. kayZ8-ni'sindhtsi'2tAt inuh apdhni'hseh, iniwi'n-pih pd'kahtah inih usdwd'peh. si kd'k~h nayiVhlkik ini'win d'nalkan&'htah. h&'w, ini? s k~8-mahkd'htAt inuh apdhni'hseh anuh 6'hnan. ini'? as pinei'ts3in. nahd'w, kayi'8-piAt, iniwi'n-pih d~yaku,'AMima'tsin anuh w~'?tawan, p~n misi'k s a-way yI'simikut ani'nulh umAh'8imawan: 'nahi'w, p6'n misi'k kAt kiwdiyd'simik! ini'2-pih tdih wdi'2naw andi'mahkiah kd'taw-iniw-isqi'Aneh; IkAn misi'k WI' yAk pas uwi'hkihtu,'nan pas awi'h-niah.' hd'w, iniwi'n-pih misi'k wdnd'hkunik&'sit; iniwi'n tdh 8a2~d'h uma'nakah andi'mahkiah awd'tukAn as un&'hkunikut ta? kdi'taw-ihpd'nanih. Cnaha'w, ini'? as urnd'hkcunikd'si yen, ni'?taw; ini? as urni'hkunik&'si yen; kka'ti-teh-p&'kahatu'Anikim. kAn d'2 Wi' yAk kitfIi'ski nenyA'muwaw? kimZ'h kuts~musin.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 377 their entire house was of something that resembled down-feathers. This the youth was given. "Oh, thanks! This is what I wanted when I sought him for my brother-in-law; in this way do I derive benefit from my womenfolk." In due time he had a child. Most exceedingly handsome was his son, for a boy it was. Then the older of the sisters did not like it, that their younger brother had given up their parents. "Why, this husband of ours, even as his father was used, so he will have to fare." Under the earth she went about plotting against their husband; as his father had been used, he too was to be dealt with. Then that youth enjoined his brother-in-law, "Now, my friend, do not approach this older sister; if you approach her, she will do to you that which was done to your father. The younger one is good; you had better have nearer dealings with her alone, before anything happens." But then once he slept too much; then he lost consciousness. Thus he was taken underground. On the second day the boy began to call for his father. That woman, who went about carrying her child on her back, now became angry. Then she addressed her sister-in-law, "Pray, look for a cedartree. Then make a big knife."' So then she went and split a cedar and made a big knife, and gave it to her nephew. Then the mother took her child on her back and started out. She went to that place where her husband had been taken underground. When she arrived, there he sat facing yon way; a girdle of copper he wore. Then the woman placed the knife in her child's hand. The boy took it with both hands; he struck that copper. His blow struck as if into something soft. Thus the boy gained possession of his father. Then he brought him home. When he had come home, that youth warned his brother-in-law not to be lured again by the older sister: "Now, let her not lure you again! For then she will bring you far down underground and no one ever again will be able to get within sight of you." Thereupon he was again planned about. The spirits there under the earth planned about him, how he was to be dealt with. "Now you are being planned about, brother-in-law. They are going to play lacrosse for you. Ask your sister if you have no retainers." 1 Presumably the underground woman herself could not effectively make the cedar knife, which alone will cut underground beings. 378 378 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'apd~ts8i'nukit kitu1'skinenyA'minaWAk? uma'nakah utsi'ke~siah y6'?-nalc ayi'tua2.' 'WA'pah mi'p s aw-p&'lcahatUAnildi'yan. nahd'w, ayd7lcu'AMisinun; p~n wdi'ts isi'Anun; kitiisku'Ahtemih y6'? niw s a-nY puwi'yan. ki'spin wd'ts i'yen, ini'?, kdihtswd'piskakuk. kispin ini'h nipjw mdi'nawats pd'hsehka'man, min'? niw s aw-anj'hikd'yan.' naMd'w, wey&'pah mi'p, ini'win-pih ay~h6'hit, nitiwdimd'tsin Uttu'8kineni'AMAn. 'y6' tdh kj'8ilc ini'kuh wj'yAk isj'kiwAk Uhpj'?tawaic, kaki'hkih dsinA'kus9i'tua? td', si tat&'tsihkiwii'win y5 kj'sik..ha'w, ini'win winu'a? ap Ikitsi'2tatua? Akum anii'mahkamik. imi'? tdh s a'?ta'titua? ulcma'WAk ts3iw-&'witua?. akum and'mahkiah aki'wAkin wdtsyA'nimliha'tua? s kAtdiw-wd't8-isiAna'tua?, pd~'?8ikc wd/ts s a-n~'puwinit s a-wd'pinit. ini'win niw utdisku'ahtimih s ke~tsi'Ahkasit. nah&'w, iniwin-pih teh, kay~'8-wdi'hta-tsi'Animi'ahkAtitua?, nim~'wah niw uma'nakah and'rnahkiah tsiW-isi'At inuh WAt6w: naha'w ak6'win tdh kayis-ani 'hiwetua? akum ma'nak ispa/miah. nahdi'w, 'ha'w, ini'? kdh. ini'? as pond'nimeh ayum an&'rnahkiah awd'tuk s8 td'-MAmdh. ini'? as kUs-anj'hat.' 'nahd'w, ini'? lkdh wdiwd'nin!' Cnalhi'w, td'? tdh mnis kdi'taw-isj'ki yen?' ini'win dis-ki'kitutawa'tsin anuh wj'?tawan; 'ahk6'?sik niw Pas kiwayd'simik. tsiya-' ki'spin kAtd'W-Mdtsi' yen, tsiya'W Matsi'Akun. ni'nah winah y6'? niw s kAtdw-tasj'kiyen; ini'? s kis-sad'kitswd'pinit ayu,' nimjh; y6'? teA niw wahki'tahkamik s a-kjwa'tesi yen.' ay6'win tdh aydi'wit agum mehki'tehpew. akum uma'nakah tuh indi'mehkiwAk, aki'? kaye-s-awdndi'tua? anuh mitd'muhSAn. ini'? s kUs-piAh'An s kUs-mamd'tsi?tawi'tua? akikuh uhpj'?tawAk kayis-isi'kitua?. 99. A GIRL IS ADOPTED BY THUNDERERS AND CHANGED INTO A TREE-TOAD. (WAsd'?) hdi'ne pdfmd'tesitua? mam&'tsi?tawAk nikut teh nikiiti'wan, ini'?, as nipd'lkua? ind'niw mis.ik mitd'muh, ma/wa niw UW'V'tii'AnAn; niku't teh ki?sjYhseh pem&'tesiw. kAn teh Wi'yAn ota'nawimd'kanan. misi'k niw kute'?nas ki-pim-we~lkimiwiw; mni? as kiw-ahsei'mih. ni? teh as keh na'p as pimai'tesit. sa?yd'h teh tiikuald'wik, ini? sa?yd'I& s kusitua? akikul& mAma'isi?tawAk as aw~h-pah~pi'situa?. m'wa, ni ni s kusi'tua?, ini? thh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 379 "Why, very many are our retainers, yours and mine! There in the north they dwell." So then he went and summoned them. Then, when he had returned: "Tomorrow morning they will play lacrosse for you. Now, be on your guard; do not go away from your door; stand right here. If you are away from here, they will run into you and push you. If you so much as touch the water, you will be overcome." On the next morning he whooped, calling to his retainers. All the extent of this sky resounded terribly with the winged creatures of all kinds and of every form. Then they too came forth, those of the underground world. And then they contended, those who were the chiefs. Those from under the ground kept close upon him, seeking to bring him away from there, to make him stand away from there as he looked on. He kept near to his entryway. Then, when they pressed truly close on each other in the game, a little ways down under the ground went the ball; so then they had won, those of the upper region. So now the contest was decided. "There now! Now the underground gods have given up the purpose of taking you. Now you have defeated them." "Indeed, and thanks be to you." "But now, how will you fare here?" Thus he addressed his brother-in-law. "In the end perhaps they will outwit you. If you want to go from here, go with your family.' But I shall make my abode right here, for my older sister has cast me out. Here on the surface of the earth I shall fare about." And he became this red-headed pine-snake. And the Thunderers from over there took that woman away with them. So now I have brought my tale to where those who had been winged creatures of the air, became human mortals. 99. A GIRL IS ADOPTED BY THUNDERERS AND CHANGED INTO A TREE-TOAD. (Wasa') In a certain tribe of people a man and his wife died, and all their children; only one girl remained alive. She had no relatives. In this place and that she would stay with the people and be given food; that was the way the poor thing lived. But then, when autumn came, those people moved camp to go hunting. When they all moved camp, the girl was left behind. Then 1 Into the human world. 9 C)A 00v 380Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI1 ki~s~'hseh inuh as pak~nih. ini2 -pih teh ma ya'tSiAt as n,5'tspind'htsiket. nd'hkah pyA'taW i'nis as wi'kitua2. ni/kut wj'kiwAm mini as pi'htiket; ini2 as ahsd'mih. waya'pah misik ma'wa ni niw lkuse'WAk. mini keh as &'yit inuh ki?,sj'hseh. ini?-pih misik nay6'tspind'htsiket. misik ndi'hkah ini? 8 pi'Atat mnis s wi'kitua?; rnisilk nikcut w~'kiwAm ini2 s pi'htiket. ini? rnd'nawats s ahsd'mih; ini'? keh s wd'pandi'hsih. ini'? misi'k s kusi'tua?; ini'? teh s sdki'nimit as pas3 n6'tspirni'htsiket. mahd?'w, mini dnd'nihtah, tsiyd'W k-An as pas n.5'tspinehd'tsin, kute'?nas nis s kAtdi'W-isiAt, nas niw mna'kah, as a-ni pa'k. ini? dndi'nihtah; ini? teh sa~yah s3 M&'tsiAt k-td'2nas niw me~tilku'ahkihkiah. ni'sukun s pim6'hnet, ini2-pih ay&'nawi'hisit s pu'awi?tat. ini? teh sj'pjw as nd'mik. ini? as mindt'k nipjw. ini? misik s ni'~pat. misik wayd'pah, mi'2-nakah wan&'nipih d'nahii'htuk. as mdi'k-ni-pem6'hnet, ini? as nd'rnik misi si'piah kdi'k~h nis s aki'htik. ini? teh as awMh-tsj'?napd'htah; y6'm'- as awjh-ind'hah, Wtvypk is~'kiw una'kisiAn a WiWAfl. 'nahd'w, nina-me~'sinan anu'rn,' indt'nihtAm. Misik 8 Ma'tSiAt WAna'nipih td misik nct'muah di'neh; mni? keh as lMA 'mak. ape'?sik w~'skiWA'tun: ini? kek s m~'sik sa?ydi'h. ta'?, pu'awi?taw; ni'wukun kAn ka'kah um~'sinan as kis-m~'sik ani'nuh. ni?-pih maya'tSiAt, apdi'?sik sasi'Ahkesit as kUs-mi'tsik und'kesiAn. misik skas niw i'hpih misik ini? as 'n/'mik pdi'?sik way~'skiwak. ini?-pih pd'kitah ani'nuh nd'?tam kayj's-mehkdih. as mdk-ni-pem6'hnet, kAniwi'n w~'kiwAm d'?tik, md''ts-kin6'htem. iniwin keh s d'yapit s k6'2tah inih w~'kiwmrn. kAni'win niw as pd~'hkiskak, iniwi'n pis-y5'h-8d'kitswd'pinAmeh anuh una'kesyAn; nipi'hih ini? as pa'pehneh. ~6,inisa'? kiw-is3j'?tat ayum! ani'? anuh ninah pis-mehkd'man!' ini'win-pih mayd'tsiAt; ke?tsi'h niw ini'win as awMh-ndin~'puwit. kAni'win niw wd'htsimit; 'pi'htike'nun!' jwd'hin. tsi-pi'htiket inuh ki?8j'hseh, piihni'hseh iniwi'n as i't. 'nmd'?' jwd'hin inuh apdihni'hseh; 'ini'? keh sdwdi'nihtakusi'yen; ay6'? keh ninA's as a-ki-wCiwj'tapirnak. hat'w, y6'? s aw-ayi'yen. m&iniwi'n s ah&TI'mi/cut awd'hseh-m~'tim~'hseh, mdi'hnu-pim&'tesit. 'nehka'h a-pi'wAk ne~n4'h8Ak. sdkd~'w a'wiwAk; nina'h teh, ni? mitci'tah. kAni'w kjs-PYA'tua?, ni?-pih a-wj'htahkua? ta? aw-indwd'minan.' sa~ydh rnd'hkah, 'UMnA's ki'Asinun,' ind'w; 'kAni'w, mne'waw kUspyA'tua?, ini'?-pih a-kitsej'?ta yen.' 1Gesture of scooping something with hand; but the word used implies a stick or other tool. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini, Texts 381 she started out to follow the others. At nightfall she arrived where they were camping. She entered a wigwam; there she was given food. On the next day again they all moved camp. The girl stayed behind for a while. Then again she went following the others. By evening she came to where they were camping; again she entered a wigwam. There she was given a little food; she stayed there till morning. Then they again moved camp; but now she was unwilling to follow any longer. She thought she had better not follow them, that she would go somewhere thereabouts, no matter which way, to die. Thus she thought; and so now she went off somewhere into the forest. When she had walked about for two days, she grew faint with hunger. Then she came to a river. She drank some water. There she slept. When the next day came, she followed that river upstream. As she was walking along, she saw something drifting in the river. So then she went to look at it; when, like this, she reached for it, it was the entrails of some animal. "Very well, these I shall eat," she thought. When she again set out, farther up the river she saw some more; these also she took, They were better than the first; so then she ate them. For she was hungry; for four days she had not eaten anything when she ate those things. Then she went on, having more strength, now that she had eaten of the entrails. A little ways farther on she again saw some, which were even better. Then she threw away those which she had found first. As she walked on, soon there stood a house, a great long-lodge. She stopped where she was, fearing that house. Suddenly the door flew open and out from it were flung some of those entrails; into the water they fell. "So that is what this person does! These are the things I have been finding on my way here!" Then she went from there; close by that place she stood. Suddenly someone called out; "Come in!" he said. When she entered the house, there was a young lad. "Oh!" said the lad, "Now I am truly blessed by good fortune; now I shall have her for company in the house. Now here is where you shall stay. There is plenty of food; we shall have good eating." Then he gave her bear's-meat to eat, and she fared well. "In the evening my older brothers will come. They are nine in number; I am the tenth. When they have come, they will say what relation you shall be to me." When evening came, "Hide over there," he said to her; "When they have all come, then you will step forth." 3 8 2) 382 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI.I 8a~ya'h ndi'hkah, ini? s pyA'tua2 s 1kis-pahpi'situa?; apdi'hsun8un misik awd'h8An ini?-nikuh payinsi'tua?. m&'wa ni niw Icayes-pyA'tua?, ini'2-pih wayi'htam~wdi'tsin:'wi' yAk nikjs-pV'2tAk; kinu'a? teh kdt'taw-kutsj'muni'nakukc ta'? aw-indwdi'makih.' iniwi'n-pih sa~ydi'h s kitsij'?tAt kcis,'heh. 'ndh-ay6'2!' int'w aninuh uOnd'hs~n. ni?-pih ma wa ni niw kayis-ki'kititua? ta? inih kd'taw-iniiwd'm&'tsin. inu'h teh uhsi'mimaw tsiw-ii'wit ni'? dts 62ni'mehsAn s awa'winit. ini'? keh 6?ne'mehsAn as ta'nit. ini? keh -s mdi'hnu-pemd'tesit inuh ki~s~'hseh. sa?ydi'h teh tdi'kuak#5'wik, ni? sa?yd'h as kAtdiW-MdtSYA'tufiP. jnj? teh O's, 'ta'? tehA aw-is~'kit ayum ke?ne'mehsi'naw?' 'naha'w, kinWn'skapi'kuneh kinaw-kan6'htenu'naw pepi~n d'hkwah; kAni'w si'kwah kina-ndn6'naw.' inj'? keh as awdna'tsin inuh kinini~'skapi'kuneh pipuin di'hkwah s kanii'wiha'tsgin t5?ne'mehsAn..sayli'h teh sayi'kwah, ini'?-pih kjs-pis-kim6'timi'kut mAtseZ'?awd'tukAfl; ini'? keh s kis-awdi'nih ki~sj'hseh. kute'?nas anii'mahkyah ini'? as kusk6'sit. s a'yanapit, ini'? as ndiwd'tsin mAtsj'2-awd'tukAn. aki'kvh kitski'wAk tsiw-a'witua? ni? as mamdi'tua?; nis as api'tua?, ni? as a?na'tua?. 'nina2 j'h-ayum matsj'?-wi yAk a'wiwAn us~'hsAn!' ini'? teh s tapdhiitu'a? inis; iniwin s tahk~nii'tua?. nik5'tds ni? as sTI'kit6'hnet inuh ki?,si'hs3eh; ini? as aw~'h-m~k; ani'nuh usj'hSAn ni? as wdw*Z'hnatsin. ni? as ne3'htakut. as md'k-niwi'tua?, kAniwi'n keh niw nay6'htawatua? 5?ne'mehs~wji'wAn. Cn&t~h!' jwd'hin matsi'hkiwis, 'kAsa'?-pih niw ke~ne'mehsin! dA?, ini? keh kd'k~h as isj'kimakah!' ma wa ni ni nehk5'siwAkin. ini? as pis-mdtsyA'tua?. s piAta'tua? imis nih md~'ts-&'s3ipdi'hkihkiw watsj'w, ini? as i't andi'miah inuh ki?s~'hseh. ni?-pih aki'kuh s pyAtdi'tua?; ini? teh as mikei'tahkua?. matsi'hkiwis as naw&'ts-kdkuts~e'?tat as uWWe2At, ini'win as pii'hkihneh utd'kas. iniwi'n keh as nawd't-s-misik-nikut-wdwj'pihtuk. pi'kwAhamuk ini'h wAtsjw. ini'? teh s mehkdwii'tua? anuA ~5?ne'mehs~w&'wan; ini'? as mamei'tua?. ini? teh s ne,?natu,'a? ani'nuh. ind'mehkiWAk teh d'WiWAk. jni'?. anuh teh 6?ne'mehs~w&'wan, 'hd'w, ma? teA aw-isj'?tayahb?' inuh teA yii'hpits uhs~'mimaw fpipd'hkitsi'hseh ini'win dits: 'umei'? s aw-a'?nakih inu'A me?tik as sa'?nawa'hkusit; d'ts-ahk~w-a-taki'I ini? as aw-dyi't. ldt'ta-pi'yah kin, ini?-pih a-ki-kdkd'kitit.' ini'? kAna'pats. nipi'skahkah teh &'wi inuh ki?s,'Aseh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menonini Texts 383 At nightfall they came home from the hunt; deer and bears was what they brought. When they had all come, then he informed them: "Someone has come to me; I want to ask you what relation she shall be to us." Then the girl came forth from where she was hiding. "Here she is!" he said to his older brothers. Then they all had their say as to what relation she should be to them. He who must have been the youngest said that she was to be their niece.1 "Very well!" they said. So now they had a niece. The girl lived well there. When autumn came, they were about to go from there. One said, "But what will happen concerning our niece here?" "Why, let us give her into Chickadee's care for the length of the winter; then, in spring, we shall come get her." So then that Chickadee took her with him and kept her all winter long as his niece. But when spring was at hand, evil spirits came and robbed him; the girl was taken away. Somewhere under the earth she awoke. As she sat there, she saw the evil spirits. They who were the old ones then took her; there where they sat they placed her. "Mind you, her uncles are enemies to be feared!" They jealously guarded her there; they kept her close. Once the girl went out of doors; she wept there; she called upon each of her uncles by name. They heard her. Where they were staying they suddenly heard their niece. "There!" said Matsihkiwis; "If that is not our niece! Something has surely happened!" All of them were angry. They started forth. When they came to that great rocky place, that mountain, there, underneath, was that girl. They reached the place; they attacked it. When first Matsihkiwis tried to open the way, his war-club broke as it came down. So then, one after another, in quick succession they struck it. They burst the mountain to pieces. So then they found their niece; they took her. They slew those creatures. They were Thunderers. That is all. But as for their niece, "What shall we do?" Then the youngest of all, Little Pot-Belly, said, "Let us place her here into the fork of this tree; as long as the earth endures let her stay there. Whenever we are about to come, then will she give forth the sound of her voice." That, I think, is the end. The tree-toad is this girl. 1 Man's sister's daughter; the sacred relationship, into which adoption is made. 364 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 100. A MAN VISITS THE THUNDERERS. (mise'n makapi'w) nikcu't kdih ind'niw wiiw~'kiwin; lcd'lc~h tdh sj'pe-w ini-win s pem~'hneh. iniwi'n-pih maya'tsyAt, uw~ 'winim s nim-anjk1c'tah; inik uwj'winim nih apti'hsus wj'win ini'win isj'lcin aya'wik. naha'w, iniwin nAmd'hku~n tak s nt~ndh&'tsin, td'2nas uk&'skinikAnuwaw s A-takic'1, td'-n6'tsihatsin. inih tah se'pew me'2sih asikAni'hsihkiwin. ini-mdi'k-niw-pim5'hnet ini's, iniwi'n-pih 1kayi'skanitipahkca'pahtsikdt; kAni'win p&'pilc kayjs-td'pinikut mfi'ts-5hpj'2tawan, iniwi'n s ispi'Anikut, sj/i'miah $ isi'Anik'td. inih tcih uw~'wiinim y6'm as indi'nah; ta'?, iniwi'n tdh hp&'n ni niw as mitsvi'munah inih uwj'winim. nah&'w, hk6'2s3ik- UMAs ahki'hih msi'kctdiMAs3 ispd',miah, iniwi'n niw tepa'h dind'pahtah, umA's ahlki'hih misilc th spdt'myah, tsiwvta'?, nilk~td's3 niw ayd'wik, tsi-p&'hkAtaw~Tipit, iniwin as nsiwJ'tsin,me~ti'kWAn, as ahkcj'wik. iniwi'n tdh.s ndwa'tsin disip4'hkun. iniwinpi'h y6's tayd'pinikutvas#~'tih. iniwi'n tdh y6'm s inim-isj'?nenit tsj'k inis Clsipdi'hkuh, s kAtd'w-pakdi'htawd'hsimikut wV'sih. nah&'w, iniwi'npih tdh imi',s s ahkj'wikc &si'AnjIkut; iniwi'n tdh s paNc'tinikut 'UMAs k& I'tskikeh. ta'2, iniwi'n tah ahpa'n niw s mits'munah inih uwj'w~nim. naha'w, iniwi'n tdh as sehkj'hsih. ta'2, k-awin tah 6pa'hlcAtawA'pinAn, misi'k kawi'n un4YhninAn, kAt as aw-kehk~ni'kut s piwmli'tesit..nikj~s-y&'hpitsj'hsimaw,' indi'nihtAMin nuh uhp~'?taw, ani'nuh 6'wanikut. ta'2, mnis s k&'tskikeh niwi'n-pih Uth ts3ayi'ahkwd'piniktut; kAnA'rnehtsiw as ya'hpits-p&'pehtsih, iniwi'n-pih 1iwih-yd'h-tdpini'ku1t, as yi'h-a~nikut imis ahki'hih as &'wik. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih kay~tka'kititua2 &'neh; ani'win units yA'nehSAn inuh m'tts-uthpj'?taw. iniwvinpih payd'ts-tst~'?napumi'kut as a-nd'hnet. ta'2, 'kAn undi'hninAn!' iniwi'n-pih maya'tSiAt inuh md'ts3-uhpej'?taw. iniwi'n-pih tdh payi'Anit ani'nuh unitsi'AnehsAn inuh uhpj'2tau,, as kAtd'w-pi8-mo'kut. iniwin-pih wiinj'pahtuk- inuh ind~'niw; inih uwj,'winim iniwin a'y~k as ne~na'ts3in ani'nuh nitsi'Anun ay&'winit. inuh u,?ndhsimaw tsiw-Ji'wit, ani'win, kuta'2nas3 mis s sas&'kik. iniwin as aw.jh-p562sahiJ'tsin. nah&'w, iniwi'n tah 5w*~'winim ay5'k s s9dhki'kAtaha'tsin ani'nuh undihkd'hkWAnAn, misi'k inih uwandi'nem me~ti'k iniwin tsiw-us~'htuk. ini'h tdh WAna,'n y6'Win d'sis-sehk&'hkuhah, inih WAnd'n. nahdT'w, iniwin-pih we~'kup nd'tunehah. kayjs'mehkdh, inih w~'kup ts3i-ma'mik-; iniwi'n tdh a'y~k- as kehp.j't~k mis 'uwi'winimih ani'nuh unahldi'hkWAnAn. kayjs-m&'waw-kj'sihtuk, iniwvin-pih dhku,'ahtawet inis dsipd'hkuh. uma'nakah tdh as ahk-~'wik ina'kah iniwin me'2sih diku'Anakutsih inuh &'s~peh; me~ti'k ahk~u'ahku~sit, ini'win-nikuth &kU'AnAkUtsih inuh a'2sen. iniwi'n-tdh-pih p5'?sehkaw&'tsin anih kaye-s-p5?2saha'tsin ani'nuh md,'ts-uhpC'2tawan unitsi'AnehsAn. nahdi'w, kayjs-p52sd'hkawatsin, mnis s kvu'Anakvtsih inuh a'2,sen, iniwin-pih tdh i'nis wiih-keihtsi'2net. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 385 100. A MAN VISITS THE THUNDERERS. (Misen Makapiw) A man dwelt in a place where a river flowed by. Once he went forth, carrying his horn-spear on his shoulder. His horn-spear was the kind that is made of a deer-antler. He was looking for beavers; wherever.there was a dam of theirs, he was going to hunt them with the spear. The river had much marsh-land about it. As he was walking along there, things suddenly became dark to his sight, and right afterwards a large winged creature seized hold of him. Then it bore him up aloft, carried him up into the air. He held his deer-antler this way; he kept holding his antler fast all the time. After a while, as he was being taken from the earth into the upper regions, this earth and the place above looked alike to him, so very far up was it bearing him. Then, at one time, when he opened his eyes, he saw a tree standing on some solid ground. He saw also a rocky cliff. Then the bird seized him here, by his foot. Then the bird flew like this, in order to dash his head against the rock. Then it carried him over to where the solid ground was, and laid him down at the peak of the ridge. But meanwhile he kept fast hold of his deer-antler. So there he lay. But he did not open his eyes, and he did not breathe, lest the creature know that he was alive. "I have dashed him to death," thought the winged creature that had carried him off. There from the peak it then threw him off. Before he had fallen all the way down, it went and snatched him again and put him back upon the solid ground. Then some creatures called out; they were the young of that great bird. Thereupon it observed him closely to see whether he was breathing. "No, he is not drawing breath!" So away went that great bird. So then came the young of that bird to eat him. Then the man leaped up from where he lay. He used his deer-antler to kill those young. He took the one that must have been the oldest off somewhere into the brush, and skinned it. Then he used his deer-antler to spread out the wings, and the tail he arranged with a stick of wood. This way he stretched that bird-tail on the stick. Then he looked for basswood-bark. When he had found it, he took some of the basswood-bark, and used it to tie the wings fast to the deer. antler. When he had finished it all, he climbed up on the rock. At the side which faced the ground below, the edge of the rock projected far; as far as the length of a tree it stood forth, that rock. Then he got into the skin of that big bird's young which he had flayed. When he had put on its skin, then he leaped off from the overhanging edge of that rock. 25 386 38GPublications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi' n niw s nanii'wakutsih; kawin wd'htsitaw niw s pas pt',pehtsih; si niw inuh uhp~'?taw, ini'win ds-nanCI'wakuts9ih. si naha'kdts niw pd'wihsinin nis ahkj'wih. nah&'wv, iniwin-pih takWS a'intis kUh-pis-palki'tinikut ani'nith kayis-awdi'nikut. nahM'w, iniwi'n-pih tdh dnii'nihtah: 'p6'ts niw nilc&'taw-nipdm; na's keh niw a'8ikiyAn kAt d'wiuw.' iniwi'n-pih t -Ih ini's wdh-kC~htsi'2net. nal'w, iniwin-pih tah si niw uhpj'?taw asis-'piMj'pisit s pi'S-iSiAt UMA8 ahkj'wih. ahk6'2s3ik pis-nehj'2tawin Pas esj'2tAt; y5'm tsi-kiw-is-nd'ki~tAt, ki-kAta'Wkisi'pis~win; iniwin-pih ki-yah-miyd'Wi~tAt. nahd'w, iniwi'n kdh pis-pd'pimni'pi~sit. 1k6'tds ay&'wik. iniwin-pih taydip&'pahtah y6'm ahkjw. 'wd'ki2 tah wi'nah ke~ts8ilA'miah pd'wihsinan? ini'2 lkdh wvi'nah kAni'w as aw-nipa'yAn, nipi'hih pa'pehtsinAn,' ind'nihtAmin. nahd'w, m6'nipiAnawi'hsihkiah tfdh k&s-pd'wihsinin. nah&'w, ini'2 Ika 5 pi'Atat y~s ahki'hih. nahii'w, kAn tdh ukd'hkinanan ta2-na'kah pas ds-1cVwdt; ikAn kutd'2nas ukd'hlkinanan ta2-na'kah pdimitesi'tua2 tsiw-i'tua2. ta"?, PU'Awi~tawin; wd'ki? a-mj'tsik? inih tdh apd'hsus umi'hikAnuwaw iniwin Ma'tiMit. Ma'tSiAt, as mdk-pim6'hnet, iniwin kitami'WAn s ne'2natsin. nahii'w, iniwin s po6'tawet apu'ahsit 5 MU,'Atsin, kay&s-ki'siSU'Atsin. iniwin s ni'pdt s ni'tipa'hlkah. nahii'w, wayd'pah misi'lk ts8i-M'tsiAt, k~xs ni'wv ihpih payi'Atdt, kAniwi'n niw may&'hlkiwatsin ina'niwvAn. 'nah&'w, ta'2-nakah, ni~a't, wdh-pi'yen?' ~wd'hin. 'umna' keh niw!' 'nahJ'w, ni~a't, Ikitii'wats-apj"?. hM', ni'?A't, icAn di"? ne~nima'uw s a-tA'nat?' 'd'~, nitd'2naw,' in/i'win. 'h&d'w, ni 2a't, kt4?'wats3-uhpu'a2.' nahM'w, iniwin s mind'tsin~, uhpu'Atua&. nahd~'w, kay0's-an~'h-uhpu,'Atua2, 'nahud'w, ni~a't, kina-witsi'wim.' 'naha'w!' ind'win. inim-MatsyA'tu~a2 s pdpim6'hnetua2, nik6td's kdh& niw aya'wilk, iniwin as piAtd'tua2 mini'lkan. nahM'w, nusi'matin wj'1kiw~man. nah&'w, inih ni/cut we-'1kiwAm md'ts-keru3'htem. nahi'w, ini8 pi'htilke'tu~a2 we~kiwAmih, imi'nalkah iisu'alcam mitdi'muh iniwin as a'pit. 'naha'w, mi"i?, ni~a't, kitdi'htAn,' inuh in/d'niw iniwin d'kut anuh in/i'niwAn. ani' win uk6'2simuwd'wAn aya'winit. naMd'w, mi"i? kdh s nuh/i'hicapit inuh in/t'niw; inuh kayj'8-iSpi'Anih mnu"? aya'wit inuh inis n'3h&'hkApit. nakii'w, iniwin tdh umd'win-pih niw s ini-talcilk as tsi-1kiw-inim-api'tua2 a/ciA ina'n-iwAlc; meta'tahsiwa'kin. iniwi'n lcah s nfinuha'hkapit, ahpdn d'win kiw-m/itsyA'tua'? alci'cuI 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 387 He hung in the air, by no means did he fall; like a bird he poised in the air. Very slowly he glided down to the earth. Then he went to where he had first been put down by that creature which had borne him hither. So then he thought; "I am surely going to die; so whatever happens to me, let it be." Thereupon he leapt from that place. Like a bird he flew along, on his way to this earth of ours. After a while on the way he became expert; when he bent over like this, he would fly fast; then he would straighten up again. In this way he flew along hither. Then, at one time, he sighted this earth. "What if I fall into the sea? I shall die in short order, of course, if I fall into the water," he thought. However, he glided down into a tamarack-swamp. So now he had arrived here on earth. But he did not know in what direction he could get home; he did not know any place where people might be. Of course, he was hungry, but what was he to eat? He followed a deer-trail. While walking along he killed a porcupine. So then he made a fire and roasted it and ate it, when he had cooked it done. Then he slept there that night. The next day he went on. When he had gone a ways, he met a man. "Hello, whence come you, friend?" he asked. "Why, from over there a ways." "Well, friend, let's stop a while. - Say, friend, haven't you perhaps some tobacco with you?"' "Yes, I have," he told him. "Well then, my friend, let us have a smoke together." He gave him some, and they smoked. When they had had their smoke: "Well, friend, come with me!" "Gladly," he answered him. As they thus started off and walked, in time they reached a town. There were very many dwellings. One of those dwellings was a great long-lodge. When they entered the dwelling, there at the far side of the lodge sat a woman. "Well now, my friend, there is your settee," this man was told by the other man2. The woman was their sister. So this man who had been borne aloft, now dwelt there as the woman's husband. At every little distance in the house was the sitting-place of a man; they were ten in number. While he dwelt there in his wife's family, those ten men were 1 Which the Thunderers crave from man. 2 Taking his seat by the woman meant marrying her. 25* 388 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII meti'tah ina'niWAk as Ici-pahpi'situa2. ta'2, inu'h tdh n~hd'hkapit iniwi'n niw as kiw-at'yit. nilc6'tds aya'wik, ani'nuh 1cayjs-aw&'nikvt iniwin d'ku.t: 'niA't, kits-ndinani'2takesim.' iniwin-pih inuh indi'niw, aninuh lkayis-aw&'nikut, iniwi'n-pih pd'ninah nikut inih up&'2s3ehkip. 'y6'm kit8-p62sd'hkAn as aw-pap&'muhneyAb.' nahd'w, iniwin ldih s papii'muhnit inuh in&' niw. nah&'wt, kawinA ka'k~bh kutd'2nAS undi'minan pats n&'2tulc pas pi'tasit wj'k62. mini td~h mdk-papdi'muhnet, iniwin as pi'hkap&'kit; iniwin s nd'mik mMhkitsi'wan nipj'w. nah&'w, iniwvi'n keh s mi'ndk, ts.j'?napii'htah nih m6'hkitsiWAn. kayj'8-Minaik inik nipj'"w, iniwin s pd'2ts8-Anii'hlcit. inis m~hkitsi'wanuh s ki-tA'kik inih kd'k~h, - kiw-is-u,8J'wiw, - iniwin ayd'yaki'2tAk misi vmdhke8A'nih. nah&'w, iniwin kehq sk1'wdt ulj'k62. payi'Atdt., m&'w tsi-kj8-pi'Atua2 ani'nuh wj'2tawan. ani'nuh tMh kayis-awd'nikut, payi'htiket nis wj'k5?, iniwin ~pih wd'htsiminit: 'A kj'2tunaw indni'2taw, mnini'2taw, indni'2taw kj'2 -tu~naw!' nahji'w, ta'2, inuh ind'niw leAn lki'k~h 5pit6naniniwin tdh dnd'ts3in anuh w~'wan: 'k~xn k'i'k~h ni'nah nipit6nan.' '3A ' ilcu'ahin, 'wd'ki2 6h misi kimeihkeSA'nih ayayaki'2tAk,? ini'? wldh-indi'hku~a?,' iku'ahin nuh wj'wan. 'nahd'w, inih-pih ni'w mi'p kit-aw&'siminaw,' - mins tdh tsikj8-pis-Mi'ndk inih nipj'w, minss k&s-ppd'muhnit. nahii'w, wayd'pah iniwin-pih mayatsy'tua9 inis s kW'-mindkc nip~'w inuh inei'niw. payiAta'tu~a2, 'y6'? keh s 'wik as8W8'-mind'yAn y~w nip~'w.' '53A, y6'? keh as di'wik; y6'? as ii'wik! naha'w, kiwdi'nun tdh kWkina'nvua2 miydi' niw. lcispi'n no~htawj'yah s aw-d'yuhtsimi'yah, p6'n pi8-waskej'nun; miyd' niw kjwd'nun ki'kuna'nua2.' naha'w, ini? kdh pi8-Ma'ts8iAt kij'wdit. sa?yd'h sakA'nah piS-pi'Atctt misi wj'k5?, iniwi'.n-pih nay5'htawatsin ani'nuh wj'2tawan, s taniwli'kisi'tua2 s niittsiha't'ua2 ani'nuh mnis tsi-we-'ke-nit imis Pis-6h-m6'hlkitsiwah. ini'-nf~ttsiha'tua? anuh wiyxn isj'kiwan. nahd'w, kjs-pispi'Atdit inuh ind'niw inis w*e'k&2, nawj'naw ayai'wik, sa?yd'h pis.dydydniWA'kin aki'kuh ind'niWAk kjs-ne?na'tva? anuh mnis tsiwj'kinit. nalhd'w, imi? kah as mitsihsi'tua2. naha'w, misi'k wayti'pah as tsi-Mii'tiAt inuh indi'niw, pahpg'sit, nAt~na'hah inih misi'lc nikut m6'hkitsiwan, ta?, ini~wi'n misi'k nikut s mehlci'h inih m6'hlcitsiwan, misik tdh inih tsi-pd'kis3kah. iniwin s naw&'ts-sisu,'ahah umii'1keSA'nih. nahi'w, pi8-kg'wdt wj'kC6?, pi4S-pyA'tat, pi'htiket, mi?Win ei'kut misi'k aninuh w~'?tawan: 'jA, W~?tunaw mneini'?taw, inhini'?taw!' mii'wa niw ki'w-ikuahin nih wg'?tawasn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 389 constantly going off to hunt, but the woman's husband always stayed right there. At one time he who had brought him there said to him, "Friend, you must find yourself greatly bored." Thereupon that man, he who had brought him there, took from a shelf one of his head-dresses. "You must wear this when you walk about." So now.this man walked about the land. Nothing did he see anywhere that he might kill and bring to their house as game. But as he walked about there, he grew thirsty, and there he saw a spring of water. So then he drank and looked at the spring. When he had drunk of the water, he happened to make a mis-step. Some of that substance that is found by springs, - it is a kind of yellow,stuck to his moccasin. Then he went home to their house. When he got there, his brothers-in-law had all come home. As he entered the lodge, the one who had brought him there called out, "Hurrah, our brother-in-law is doing great things; he is doing great things, is our brother-in-law!" But of course the man was not bringing anything. So then he said to his wife, "I am not bringing anything." "Oh," she said to him, "why what is that sticking there to your moccasin? That is why they say this of you," said his wife. to him. "Well, right away, in the morning, you must take us," - to the place where he had drunk the water when wandering about. So on the next day they started out for the place where that man had drunk water. When they got there: "This is where I drank of this water." "Oh, so this is the place, is it? Now then, do you go home to our house, straightway. If you hear us call out, do not come back here; go straight back home to our house." Accordingly he started home. He had almost reached the lodge, when he heard his brothers-in-law calling out as they hunted with spears the creature that dwelt where the spring came forth; hunting from place to place that creature, whatever it was.' After the man had arrived at the lodge, in a short time there came along laughing those men, having killed the creature that dwelt there. So then they had their meal. On the next day, when that man again went hunting, looking for another spring, he found another spring, and there again stepped into the soft mud. He stopped and daubed it on his moccasins. He went home; when he got there and entered the lodge, his brothers-in-law again said to him, "Hurrah, our brother-in-law is doing great things; he's doing great things!" he was always told by all his brothers-in-law. 1 The customary euphemism for underground spirit-animals. 390 390 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] waya'pah misi'k- awand'tsin, iniwirn Ica s [/iAta'tua2 inis inih m6'hlkitsi'wAn. 'nahM'w, kjwd'nun,' kiw-ilku'ahin; 'k.-spi'n n~htaw~Yyah &y.?uhtsi'miyah, p6'n pis-wasUc'nun; kewdi'nun niw Icikina'nua2.' as kUs-pi'Atdt wj'k52, iniwi'n-pih nay6'htawatsin d'yuhtsimi'tua2 pas wdhtsi'taw und'nikusi'tua2 s niitsiha'tua9 aninuli wiyAn isej'kiWAn inis wayeZ'kinit inih m6'hkitsi'WAn. We'pAt-s niw pi'WAkin kuh ila"'niwAlc. iniwi'n keh s pind'tua2 anih tsi-ki-wivh-ne?na'tua?. naha'w, iniwin kdih dtnan5'hket inuh nuhd'h, ki-nt~nd'hah ani'nuh,m6'hkitsi'WAnun; iniwi'n as kiw-i't inuh wiyAik 8j'kiw, ani'nuh mayu'atua2 ani'n'uh wjYtawan. nahd'w, iniwin kdih mt'p s ki-mn'tsiAt, as Iki-pahpeZ'sit, aninuh s ki-nt~n4'hah m~hlcitsi'wanun. naha'w, wd'htsitaw mei'hnuw-mdmej'ts3ihs.5WAkin ani'nuh we-'2fawan, as ki-melhkcd'h ani'nuh m~hkitsi'wanun. naha'w, misi'k pahpj'sit inuh ind'niw, kawi'n kuti'2nas umid'hkAnan ani'nuh m~hkitsi'wanun; kinune'hamin. nahJ'w, mini? WcA pis-kj'wdt, kinune'hamin taW. iniwi'n s pis-Miy6'skah asdkAni'hsmhNuiw kayjs-imi'nAkc-and'pit, misik- uma'nakah w&'2naw ahki'win inih s81cAni'hs3ihkciw. 'nahM'w, nt6'WAk as pas wi'hlkihesi yen as a-misdkdi'yen?' iniwin-pih mayd'tsiAt s misii'kdt inih smikAn~'hsihkiw. y6'win' tdh a hkuhah as rnisa'kdit. ta?, ya'hpits tdh nipj'WiWAnin anih uti'hs~n; inu'h tah apd'hkiy ani'win kayiskisu'Atsin, UinA's tdih as kehkik1caninuh me5hlitsi'wanun. nah&'w, piS-pi'Atit W~'k?, inwi ICniah kawe'nihtah pas pehk6'nah ini'h kay~s-kehkikiitd'pisi't. pi'htiket 'wj'k52, sa'2ydih Misi'k uhtsj'mWuAnin ani'nuh wj'2tawan: 'U k'2u~naw indni'2taw. indni'2taw!' naha'w, mndwa niw uhtsi'MUWAkin. 'nahud'w, inih-pih n~iw k~xts lkiniini'hih6'nawak Icitdnihti'yAnawAlk,' ~wd'kin aki'kuh ind'niWAc. 'nahd'w, wA'pah kdih kita'wasi'minaw' - ini's tdih tsi-kcs-pi'suz(hta'nah inih kayjs-ke1hkikditd'pisit. nah&'w, wayd'pah awand'tsin w~'2tawan, kayZ8-piAtdi'tuna2: 'naha'w, y6'? keh!' 'nah&'w. k-jwd'nun miyd' new; p~n pi8-wasktj'nun, n6'h&tawiyah s aw-ayuhtsi'miyah; miya' niw kewd'nun kilkina'nua2.' sa~yeh aydi'pehtaw pis-pi'Atat isi w~'k~wa'?, ini'win-pih nay6htawa'tsin diyuhtsimi'tua2. nah&'w, usdmiwa'kAtin htsi'mitua2. nahd'w, nawe naw sa~ydi'h pis-dydiyd'niWAkin. nakii'w, iniwi'n kdh payinli'tuaO as awjh-ne~na'tua2. inu,'h tdih u~ni'1hsimaw tsiw-a'wit aki'kuh w~'2tawan, mitii'tah nuhndi'2, ayum payi'nakih.' 1L Gesture of raising hand from ground to knee. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 391 On the next day he led them again, and so they came to the spring. "Very well, go home," they would say to him, "if your hear us call out, do not turn around and come back, but go home to our house." When he had got back to the house, he heard them calling out; they must have been in great spirits as they hunted with the spear for that creature of some kind which dwelt there in the spring. Very soon came those men, and they brought that creature which they were in the way of going off to kill. So that was what the woman's husband did; he would look for those springs; there dwelt that kind of creature which they ate, those brothers-in-law of his. Early in the morning he would go off hunting and seek out those springs. Truly, good eating had he and his brothers-in-law as he kept finding the springs. Once when the man was again hunting, he did not find any springs anywhere; in vain he looked for them. So then he started home, since he did not find any. On his way he came upon a marsh. As he looked that way, in every direction to a great distance extended that marsh. "I wonder if could manage to go across?" Then he started to cross that marsh. Up to (his knee) here he sank in, as he was crossing through. Now, his leggings got entirely soaked through with water; so he cut some thick rushes, and tied them on as garters. When he had got out of the marsh, he went home; he had missed finding any springs. Now, when he got home, he did not remember to untie the things he had used as garters. When he entered the lodge, again his brothers-in-law called out, "Hurrah, our brother-in-law is doing great things; he's doing great things!" All of them were shouting. "Well, let us get our spears into shape at once!" said those men. "Very well, tomorrow you will lead us!" - to the place where he must have got those things which he had used as garters. So, on the next day, when he led his brothers-in-law and they had reached the place: "Here it is!" "Very well! go straight home; do not come back here when you hear us calling out; go straight home to our house." He had got about halfway to the lodge, when he heard them shouting. Very loud was the noise as they called out. After a while they came laughing. They brought that which they had gone out to kill. Then the oldest of the ten men, his brothers-in-law, said to their father, "You shall give a feast, father, with this creature we have brought." 392 392Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n kdh, 'nah&'-w!' iniwin &'kut ani'nuh wj'2tawan 1kay~s-awd'nikut: 'nah&t'w, kAn i' 2 mitsi' niw ne~nima'w s a'-tandt?' Cl'2, iniwin -pih mayind'tsin ani'nuh ne~nimd' WAn. 'nah&'w, awjh-nt5'mehkcun skapd'wis kAtS p'vw s a-pis-p~2sehkunei'tsin anu,'r ne~nim&'wan.' ta?, iniwi'n-pih d'wih-nt6'mih inuh sldipd'wis tsiw-ii'wit. nahud'w, inih-pih payi'At inuhsidipa/wvis: 'nahd'w, ayum ne~nimii'w p~'2sehlku'sin!' tal?, iniwin kdih as pj2sehkcun&'tsin aninuh ne~nimd'wan. 1kay~sanih-Pj72sehku~nJ'tsin- aninuh ne~ni mi' wan, y6'win' d'nispapit inuh ne~ni'mjw, d'YAWiS teh as di'wik- nina/win 2 niw d/nikIinit. 'naha/w, papdm-nt6min s a-pi'Atua? ma/w y~m, 'nikIc'hkwah Icima/nikAninaw s a-pis-nuhlpu'AtUa2,' ma/'win inuh skapa'wis. naha/w, ani'nuh tdih kay~'s-awj'h-ne~na'tua? iniwi'n-pih payi'htilkAnih inis wj'Ik~wa2; kin6'htem a/wiwin. nah&,'w, iniwi'n-pih tdh ani'nuh w~'wan inuh i'ni'niw inis utd'htan~wa? as a/wi/c, iniwi 'n s pita/kucuk'u/ut. 'p~n pa/hpis p&'hkci~tah!' - pi5'n keh s aw-anii'pit,. -- iku'ahin. nahd'w, s8i'matin tahl tsi'hkciwewin ndn&'WAkc /d'ta-pis-mitsihs3i'tua? uhpu,'Atua2. ani'nuh tdh inuh ina/niw ani'nuh kcays-.ispi'Anikut, ia yes-mesa/ni/cut, kcayis-awa/nikut, iniwin asWi'ts-piAt. iniwin wa/h as kci'Anikcut aninuh wZ'wan as pit&Jkul5'kcut, icAn s a-ni'Akcut ani'nuh lcaye-S-ispi'Anikut. ta'2I, wa/htsitaw 1kjs-nehkc6'siwakcin as Ucs-ne~na'tin ani'nuh nitsi'Anun aya/winit. nahii'w, iniwi'n kceh as mi'tsihsi'tua?, kcayjs-anih-uhpu'atua?. inihk /en6'htem, inih wZ'kciWAMf, tsiw-ahki/k. iniwi'n apits a/h/cit aninuh tsi-mu'atua2. inuh ina/niw ta2 UMA~'s s pita//kuhuh, ma/nawats uma/win d~s-wa/2nunah, nis tah s 5h-tsj2napJI'h~ktset. &A h, siw usdwa/peh isjnd1cusfT'WAkin a/ci'/cuh anuh wC'2tawan. paya//kWAts a/c6'wa/in na/mehkci'wAkc aya/Witua2, aninuh w*~'?tawan. ma/wa tdh tsi-tahs~t ayum uhpZ'2taw, ini'Winm naw as pi'Atua2, mi'tsihsitua2. naha/w, kay~s-anih-mi'tsih8itua9, iniwin-pih lcaya/ci'/itit inuh w6'hnemawv ts~w-a/wit, akci'Ikuh na/'mehkci'WAk 6'hnuwawan. iniwin tdh a/ts inuh /ce'2ts-irdi'niw: 'na/ud'w, p6&'n rnisi'kc nikc6'uh inih i8~'?tAkcun as aw-misa/ni/k ayum ahlci'hih pdma/tesit. wdi'htSitA niw awa/tuk k&~-usj,'hd~w pdfma/tesinit, as a-tii'tua? wind'? unitsi'AnehSAn. /c~spi'n ini'h inimn-a/yesj'?tay&/k, wiyA/c neydiwa//in ayum ahkci'hih plima/tes8it s a-/ci'-/cAtdw-ne'2ne/c, awa/tuk /cina-neh/cjha/waw. Wind/2 uti'nikn awa/tuk. /cinaw-kca//ch-ena/hkcunik/cu'nawi. kci'na? na'p kcikcs-m~'nikcunaw inih aw-enii'htsikce'yah.' ini2 a/h/cit inu'h &-te~n6'hkcAkAn. 1Gesture: hand, palm down, swung high. Gesture: index finger of one hand laid across that of other, near end. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 393 "Very well!" Thereupon the brother-in-law who had brought him thither, asked him, "Pray, can it be that you have any more of that tobacco?" "Yes," he told him, "I have some tobacco." Then he gave him the tobacco. "Go ye and call the attendant to come and cut up this tobacco." Someone went and called him who was the attendant. Then, as soon as that attendant had come: "Now then, do you cut up this tobacco." So then he cut up that tobacco into fine bits. When he had finished cutting up the tobacco, it lay in a heap as high as this, although at first it had been a piece only as big as this. "Now go round and invite them all to come, throughout the length and breadth of our town, to come and smoke," the attendant was told. Then that creature which they had gone off to kill was brought inside their lodge there; a long-lodge it was. Then that man's wife covered him up there wheretheir settee was. "Do not, in any case, uncover yourself!" - that he was not to look, - she told him. Very much roaring noise there was, when the guests came to eat and smoke. And that one who had borne this man aloft, who had caught him and carried him away, he came among them. This was why his wife had hidden him and covered him up, so that he should not be seen by the one who had borne him aloft. For, truly they had been angry when he had killed those young. So then, after having smoked, they made their meal. As long as the length of that long-lodge, that house, so long was that creature which they were eating. There where he lay covered, that man lifted the cover a bit, and observed things from there. Lo, like copper looked his brothers-in-law. For in truth they were Thunderers, were his brothers-in-law. And the fowl of the air, as many as is their number, thither they had all come to eat. When they had finished eating, the father spoke, the father of the Thunderers. This is what that old man said: "Now then, never again do ye this deed of capturing these mortal men of the earth. Truly the Spirit created mortal men, that he might have children. If you continue to do this deed of killing any mortal man that you see you will anger the Spirit. They are the Spirit's own creatures. He will plan something for us. As our share he has given us that of which we are to make our food."' Here ends the story. I That is, the underground creatures. 394 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xli 101. THE MAN-EA TING SORCERER. (mise'n makapi'w) flaha'W, ina'niWAk wdwe'lcWAkin; mita'tahsiwAlkin; ulk6'2simuwd'wan teh td'WAnin as tsip&'hkinit. inu'h teh as mita'tahsi'tua2 uhsWmimaw, ma-mdi'waw uhsj'mirnaw. h&'w, iniwi'n keh $d'hpahpisi'tua2. inu'h teh u~nd'hsimaw iniwin dn&'tsin ani'nuh w~'matAn pahpi'situa2, 'p6'n nilc6'tuh i8A'kun uma'nakah; mats'?-awdi'tuk ini'? as 0'. nisa'nat!' nahd'w, pdpahpisi'tua'?, apd'Asusun ne?ne'WAkin, awd'hSAn. mnu/h teA uOnd'hsimawl ini'win dnd'nihtah: 'wakitu'wAk w4'hIc62te'siyameh ayu'm ne~nd'hsinaw?' iniwi'n-pih ini'nakah W'SWinti's s lkiite'nikutua? ani'nuh u?nd'hsowawAn. hii'w, Md'tiAt, ini'nakah as isi'At, ini's s Icu?te'nih. payi'Atlit, md'ts-ke?tsi'kAm, md'ts-nipj'hseh. ini'win teh as ndnj'puwit, tsj'?napd'ktsiket ini's si'timih inih ke?tsi'kAm. as mdkc-ndn~'puwit mnis sitimih, kAni'win wi' yAk pay~'tsit4~'mdt, ke?ts-ind'niahseh. 'Ad'? teh UMA'S dnan6'hkeyan, nuhsi'h?' iku'ahin ani'nuh ke~tsinani'AhsAn. 1/5A, n&'sap ni'w niM8is0napii'htan y~m nip~'hseh. ta? 6h ki'nah wdih-pi'yan, nimd'hs6??' C6A, Ume'? akd'miak Wdh-pi'yan; md~ts-minitkln ini'? w4'h-pi'yan.' '5A, nimehs6"?, IcAn d'2 pas kitdsu'ahusi'nan as pas isi'yan ini'h rnini'lcn?' 'ha? lcdAh, pas kitdsu'ah~nin. una'nikWAt inih rndts-mini'Idin.' hd'w, ha', iniwi'n kek s p~siha'tsin, MdtsyA'tua?. iniwi'n-pih nd'kamit inuh kets-ind'niwv: 'maimianawata'hkamik pimdhdnAkj mamdtsi?tawd!' hd'w, iniwi'n-pih tdA inuh ke~ts-ind'niw, 'nitu's,,ndA tsiahe'h!' iwd'hin. h/ A, mnis s nikd'mit inuh ke~ts-ind'niw, pind's niw mdtsi'skawin inih ut's, kisi'pitik. nahd'w, inuh ind'niW Anih umd'?tikwAn, misi as api't me~tik6'nih, AnuA uma'2tikwAn ini'win s pAndn&'tsin ini's8 as nikd'mit inuh ke~ts9-ind'niw, d'hpits-MAtsi?-awd'tuk-&'wit. AR' kekhMdtsi'Atua?, aPd'?tsipis6'WAkit? hd'w, sa?e'A ke?tsi'h aydi'wik ini's s ahke~'wikc, iniwi'n-pih misi'k ini'm-nildi'mit inuh ke?ts-ina-'niw; iniwi'n-pih paya'pehtsih inuh ind'niw. sdi'hkihsi'hkua? ini's s ahkj'wik, inih misi s ki'w-a?tek undi'?tilk6'neM2 inuh ke?ts-indi'niw, 1Probably slip of the tongue for u?rnf'hsirnawan d'hkcuwatsin. 2 Informant apparently could not find the word umd' yawisitemih 'at his landing-place'. Cf. preceding and following notes. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 395 101. THE MAN-EATING SORCERER. (Misen Makapiw.) Some men dwelt in a place; ten was their number; and they had a sister, who did the cooking. And the youngest of the ten, the youngest of all (is the hero of my story). So then, they used to hunt. Then the oldest brother saidtotheothers, as they hunted, "Never go in that direction over there; an evil spirit dwells there. It is perilous!" They hunted, killing deer and bears. The (next to the) oldest brother then thought, "I wonder why this oldest brother of ours frightens us?" Then he went in the direction which the oldest brother had bidden them fear. Off he went, going in the direction against which he had been warned. When he got there, there was a great sea, a large lake. Then he stood about there, looking at things by the shore of that sea. As he was standing about here and there by the shore, suddenly someone approached in a canoe, a little old man. "What are you doing here, grandchild?" the little old mall asked him. "Oh, I am merely looking at this lake. And whence, pray, do you come, grandfather?" "Why, 1 come from the other side, there. It is a large town whence I come." "Why, grandfather, will you not please take me across in your canoe, that I may go to that town?" "Indeed, and I can take you across. Beautiful is that large town." So then he took him into his canoe and off they went. Then sang that old man: "What a splendid thing it is, I am paddling about A mortal man!" And then that old man said, "My boat, be off!" As the old man chanted these words, that canoe of his started to go of its own accord, flying along at great speed. And the man sitting there in the canoe let go of his bow when the old man sang, so great was the latter's evil power. And so they were off, and fast they did go! When land was already near, the old man sang once more; then that man fell over. They beached at a place on the shore where 396 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII M'2?, ini'win-pih Idt'pdt inuh lke~ts-ind'niwi. iniwi'n ni'w k-d~tsi'h as a'?tik, inik wj'k mnu/ ke~ts-ind'niw. h&'w, payi'htiket mnis wj'k~wa2, ini'win 4n&'tsin an'nuh wetsweyAwZ'kehcu~n: 'ind~'niwv kipi'tUAn, weyAwe'keh, WeyAWe'keh!' hd'w, iniwti'n-pih nayi'pi~tAt s8ikit6'hnet s isi'At mnis m-e~tikx3'nih inuhWe' YAWekeh. utd'hpatah, 8~md'n iniwin s aki'talk inih ut&'hpatah. 'pe?,si'k tdh lkAn nina'minan,' as is~'kihtskddt, inih umi'hikaniu~waw iniwin ndn&2tutsi 'hah umi'hikanuwaw. h&'w, payi'Atat ini's md'2tilc6'nimu~wdw as a'2telc, ta?, ini'? as sehkj'hsih inuh indi'niw; &naw~'htaw s kAtd'w-5n0' as kAt4'W-nand'hkuna'tsink. ta'?, inuh We' yAWeleh ini'win nd~nd'?tutsi'hah inih me'?ti'k5.s. ini'win keh as tsi-pas~'pahatsin anih ind,'niwvmn. ini? k-eh s ite~na'tsin. paya'lcwAts MAMd'tsiVtaAfA MVI'Ak": ini? d' nahtsikd'tua? MAMd'tsi?tawAn- as mu'atua?. hd'?, irni's w~'1cwa? inn/i ind'niw.l ni'/ikah mini9 s li'numa'tua?; kmn Upi'Anan. h&'w, waydi'pah ini'win dndi'tsin ani'nuh w.,~'utatan inuhiMAtsihli'.ta'?, nmditsi'win inuhi ind'niw nilcu't, idntd~h&'tsin. payi'Atat ini's inih nip~'hseh, ke?tsi'lcam, siwas i'win kd'yAs niw inuh ke?ts8-init'niw. ini'? sa?ye'h as kUs-kehkindI'kitua? s3 t'tua? ii's as i'tna?. as — wi'Icitua9). 'ha'? teh, nuhsi'h, dnan65'hkeyan nin,,A's?' 15A, n~'mat nipis-nit~ndi'hdw.' '5A, ii'? as i't, imi's ni'na/i wdih-pi'yen. md,'ts-mini'/cdn ei'wiw. ha'nu sd'pdw niw~'htam~waw y6'naukah td-pi-'yen misi'k, '16A, nime'hs6?, usd'm undi'nikuwAt y5's; k-Ani'w? nawlj'naw' nina-k-j'wdm."' 'nahi'w, nimehks6"?, dZsu,'ah5,qi'na?; nina/i na'p nnwii i. h&'w, kay~s-p5''sit, mu/i ke?ts-ina'niw: 'nitus mtd'tsia/ie'?!' iwd'hin, ha'?, ktsi'pitilk mi/i me?ti'k5s, mi/i ut6s inuh ke~ts-ind~'niw. kAWin wi'nah upi'/iike'nan; pend's niwv mditsiskawin nih ut6s. sa?ye'hi aydi'pe/itaw payit4'tua?, iniwi'n-pi/i misi'k nd,'kamit inuh ke?tsin"' niwl: 'maminnawata/ikarnik pim&/i5naU /i', inuh ind'niw ini'wivi as pan'inti'sin ani'nu/i umd?ti'kwAn. payiAta'tua? mni's s ahkj,'wil, iniuwi'n-pi/i misi'lc nd'kamit mu/i ke?tsinei'niw. na/i&'w, iniwi'n-pi/i tek paya'pe/itsi/i inuh ind'niw; huinawe'/iisow pass yd'h-5nit. na/i&'w, sdi'hkihsi'hkua? min's s a/ik'wik, iniwin 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 397 the old man's canoe was kept, and the old man stepped out. Close by there was the old man's house. When he entered that house of theirs, he said to the little old woman, his wife, "I bring you a man, wife, wife!" Thereupon the old woman arose and went out of the lodge to go to the dug-out canoe. A sword-blade was fastened to the end of her cane. Pretending that she could not see very well, she felt out with this tool the path that led from their house. When she came to where their dug-out lay, of course, there lay that man; he was unable to get up and defend himself against her. So then the old woman felt about with her stick for the dug-out, and in doing this, she stabbed that man. So she killed him. For the fact was, these people ate human beings; that was what they fared on; they ate human beings. Now, over at the house of that man's family, in the evening they missed him; he did not come. The next morning the oldest brother said to the rest, "Go look for our brother." One of the men went off to look for him. When he came to that lake or sea, there was that old man, already on the spot. By this time he knew of them, where they stayed and dwelt. "What are you doing here, grandchild?" "Why, I have come to seek my brother." "Oh, he is over yonder where I come from. It is a big town. Although I told him, this morning, that I was coming back here, - 'Oh, grandfather, it is too pleasant here, after a while I shall go home.'" "Very well, grandfather, take me over in your canoe; I too shall go there." "Well! Get in!" said the old man to him. Then, when the old man had embarked, "My boat, be off!" he said; and swiftly flew that dug-out, the old man's canoe. Not at all did he paddle; of its own accord that boat moved along. When they had got halfway, the old man sang again: "What a splendid thing it is, I am paddling about A mortal man!" Oh, that man then let go of his bow. They were speeding, - off and away. When they had come close to the shore, the old man sang again. Then that man fell; he was not able to rise again. They landed, and the old man disembarked and went into the lodge. "Well, wife, I bringyou m! "Well, wife, I bring'you Amman!" -;'- -. 398 Publical~ions,,, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ta'2, iniwi'n-pih we' yAwejceh nay~'pi2tAt; utd'hpinAm utd'hpatah, Ma' tsiAt ini's as isi'At metik'nih. iniwi'n tdhk, - nih utd'hpatah UMA'Is i8lCU,'A~ts as &'wilc sim&'nehlcAti'win. inih ut&'hpatah, - iniwvi'n teh payi'Atdit ini's metilc'nih; iniwi'n tih ndnand'2tutsi'hiket, Anuh, ina'niwAn nit utsiha'tsin. kayjs-mihkcutsihd.'tsin, iniw-in-pi'h pdsipahi'tsins5 ne~na'tsin. ini'2 keh as md'wa niw m~d24iwanatsin ani'nuh inct'niWAn inuh ta'2 inuh teh -uh-si'mimaw, ma-m&'w uhs~'mimaw, hJ'w, ini'win ana'tsin inukhMAtsihki'uwis: 'nahii'w, nahM'w, nehsj'2. ninaw-isi'AM; ninaw-nit~ndih&'wAk ki'mati'naWAk.' anuh t'ih w.j'pAn as kiw-pj'htikin, ini's as tsi-kiw-nipft', ini'win as ak6'tilc inih ini's s 1ci-p~'htilkin ani'nuh wZ'pan.' 'nah&'w, nehs.'2, ay6'2 a-tdtsj'2napumat. kWspin Matsi'8kAt, ini'2 as a-milca'hkiyen,' inii'win ani'nuh uhsj'mehSAn. ha'w, maya'tSiAt inuh mtsihki'wis, nim-mdk-pim6'hnet, lcAni'win meats-aOse'n di'pit. iniwi'n-pih lkayi'2tinah utdi'kas; iniwin teh -ninu~hii'tsin. icAn winak upii'kama'nan; ini'2 nisi'lk niw as nimahii'tsin. inuh a'2sen wehtsita kdi'2tin m&'wa niw pj'1kwskawin. h&t', iniwi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt. ni'matan?' hd'w, misi'k niw M&'tiAt, s inim-mdk-pim6'hnet, kAni'win misi'c mdAtsaskd'h tsayj'patsih. hM'w, ini'win lkci misi'Ik as nimiihd'tsin inil& utii'kas. hd'w ke~ti'n inuh meits-asldi'h md'wa niw pj'kus1kawin. 'hd'w, mdtsi',w aw-isij'ki2 awvi'ni2 tsi-md'2tsin~and'tsin ne'matan?' iniwi'n teh payi'Atat ini's tdh inih ke~tsi'kam. kawi'n wi'y~n unuiwd'nAn. iniwi'n keh nanZ'puwit nitiwdi'pahtsikdit. lcota/s niw kAni'win niw payi'tsitsimidt kets-indni'ahseh. I't?' teh UMA's dnan6'hka yen, MAtSi'2-ke~ts-ind'niw?' irdi'win. oA na IsAp niw!iddmism 'm iwa'hin inhkets-inid'n~iw 'lk~n d~'i' UMA'S s a-kes-nd'watua2 ne'MMAtV? C5.jwa'hin inuh lke~ts-inii'niw, 'imi"? as i'tua2, imi's ni'nah wdhpin'yn; md'ts-mini'lan mi"i? as a'2Itilk. sd'paw mnis s miitsi'yen, niwZ'htam~wd'wAk s a-lkAtd'w-piS-Matsi'Atua2, '5A, kAni''w naw*Z'naw nina-mats yA'minaw; usa'm una'nilkwAt y6's. Y6'r mini'kcan."' 'hdIw, p6'sihina2, MAtsi'2-kle?ts-ina'niw!' 'hai'w, p6'sinun!' h&'w, iniwin keh s p6'sit inuh MAtSi'hkiwts. lea ys-p3'sit, iniwi'nPih inuh ke,?ts-ind'Miw, 'ntus mdtsiahe'h!' iwd'hin. a da, "nitus md'tsiah!" kinaw-itdi'mipah! ape'2silk eisi'ahimun! kina-p&'paleamin y6' nit&'lkas!' 1Informant apparently cannot findtheword pl'htanwan 'quiver';thefollowing references to it are, however, in the -animate gender, proper to this word. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 399 Thereupon the old woman arose. She picked up her cane and started out to go to the dug-out. And then, - her cane, at one end there, was made like a sword-blade, - she reached the dug-out, she felt for things here and there with the stick, groping to find that man. When she had felt him out, she transfixed him and kiled him. In that way that old man took all of those men away with him. Then that youngest, the youngest of all the brothers, to him said the oldest brother, "Now then, little brother, I am going there; I shall look for our brothers." And that thing in which his arrows were contained, at the place where he slept it hung, that receptacle for his arrows. "Now, little brother, you will keep your eye on this thing. If it moves about, then is when I shall be fighting,"he said to his youngest brother. So the oldest brother departed; as he was walking along, there was a large rock. Then he drew out his war-club and with it swung at the rock. He did not strike it at all; he merely swung at it. And the rock, truly, it went all to pieces. Then he went on. Thereupon he said, "He won't get very far, I daresay, whoever has been destroying all my brothers!" As he went on again, walking along, there, at onetime alarge pinetree stood towering. So then he swung at it, too, with his war-club. Truly, that large pine-tree flew all in pieces. "He won't get very far, I daresay, whoever has been destroying all my brothers!" Then he came there, to that sea. He saw no one. He stood there, on the look-out. After a while the little old man came paddling that way. "What are you doing here, you nasty old man?" he said to him. "Oh, I am just paddling about!" said the old man. "Haven't you perhaps seen my brothers hereabouts?" "Why, yes," said the old man; "They are over there, over where I come from; there is a big town there. This morning, when I was setting out to come here, I told them to leave and come here; 'Oh, after a while we shall leave; it is too pleasant here, this town.'" "Very well! Take me in your canoe, nasty old man!" "All right, get in!" So then the oldest brother got into the canoe. When he had embarked, then that old man said, "My boat, be off!" Truly, they flew along at great speed. "Oho, 'My boat, be off!' you will say, will you? Just go a little faster, or I shall smash you with this club of mine!" 400 400 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII ha'h ta'2, Mdtuipiso'WAkin. sa~ye'h misi'k ay&'pehtaw ini-td'tua?, iniwi'n-pih mi-si'k nd'kamit inuh 1kj2ts-ina'niw: 'mameinawatahkcamikc piminh~naki rnamdtsi~tawdh!P ind'haMAs6 win. hM', inuh rnAtsi'hkiwis siw y6'win d'napit, Ikalkd'wapit. ikawin updpehtsindi'nan. sa~ye'h misi'k ts~k- ini-td'tua?. iniwin-pi'h misi'k nd'kamit inuh ke~ts-inii'niw: 'mamdnawatahkamikpimlh~unaki marndts3i~tawdh!` hd'w, mAtsihlki'wis ini'win s pAnli'nah inih 'uti'kas. 4'2, misi'k saya'hlcihsi'hku~a?, iniwi'n-pih misi'k w'k-amit inuh ke~ts-ind'niw. e'h, tsihki'wis iniwin s pd'pehtsih. Ma'tsiAt inuh ke~ts-ind'niw, ini'm-pi'htiket iW'k~wa2: 'naha'w., WiyAWe'Ikeh, inii'niwklipi'tUAn!' ha'?, iniwvi'n-pih nuh wj'yAw~Pkehi nayi'pi~t~t. inih ut&'hpatah kayjs-nawd'tinah, matsi'At, ini's tdh s isi'At me~tilc6'nilh. ha'w, ninA'8 naydwii'tsin pi'tuhne'nit anuh WeyAWj'kehkun inuh mAtsi'hlciwis, iniwin-pih kdi'taw-un~'pahtuk; y&'h pits h&'nAwe'his5Qv pas 5nO', IcAtaw-melkana'tsin. hm', kay~s-mihkutsi'hikut, iniwi'n s ne~ni'Ikut, pa.8'p'ahukut, ne~ni'kut. Ihoiw, ini2 keh mei'waw s kjs-ne~ni'lkutua2. /&d'w, inu'h tdh vhsj'mimaw pehni'hseh as mdk-tdtstZ'2napa'htah ini'h inuh MAtsi'hkiwis ani'nuh wj'pan s ki-pj'htikcin, iniwi'n-pih y6'm maydtsi'8kAk inih, pa'pehneh inih. UhA!.1 iniwi'n iin&'tsin ani'nuh 5m~'hsAn, 'ini'2 keh ke~nehi'n as kjs-ne'2nih! ini'?! ha?, ini'? kek s kUs-ne?ni'h ke?ne'hin. nahud'w,, nina-nitonaha'wAk ke?ne'hin!'. iku'ahin ani'nuh um~'hsmn, 'ietshanni~tiid'~ inuhtsi'm ke'2nehin tsi-ne'2nih? kinet s6h a-wZ'skciwihike' yen? kinane'?nikdi'm! p6'n, p6'n isi'Anun, pdZs'Au! 'kA,"n! ninet 6'h nisi'k a-kAtdi'w-pima'tesi'yen ini's ke~ue'hin tsitahpdnani'htu~a?? ni'nah ap imi's ne,?nika'yAn, nina-mini'nihAn,' jw&'hin inuh pehni'hseh. naMd'w, wAya'palh, ini?-pih tSi-Ma't8iAt. pa yi'Atdat ini's ini'h ke?tsi'kAm, uma'nakah as nilk ina'kah inii'pit, kawi'n utdpii'pahta'nan tsiw-ahkci'k inih ke?tsi'kam; misi'k uma'nakah pi8-OAm5'hkahah 'ayum 1cWs6, Icawi'n utd'pdpahte'nan dihpj'ts-me?sikc inik ke~tsi'kAM. ta'?, iniwi'n t4h iniwi'n niw ayci'ts-naknd'Ikisi'tua? aid'-kh int'rniWAk. hM'w, inuhk Ie?t8-ind'niw, 'ini'? m&'waw s kUs-ne'?nacu,'a?!' tskR8-in4'nihtAmin inuh ke?t8-ind~'niw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 401 They sped along on their way. When they were about halfway, the old man again sang: "What a splendid thing it is, I am paddling about A mortal man " Thus he sang. That oldest brother sat like this, reeling. He did not fall over. Then again, when they were close in, again the old man sang: "What a splendid thing it is, I am paddling about A mortal man!" Thus he sang. Then the oldest brother let go of the war-club. When they had run up on the beach, the old man sang again. This time the oldest brother fell over. The old man went off and entered his lodge, "Come, wife, I bring you a man!" Then the old woman arose. Taking along her cane, she started forth and went to the dug-out canoe. When the oldest brother saw the old woman walking toward him, he tried to spring up, but he was entirely unable to get up and fight her. When she had felt him out with her cane, she killed him, stabbing him through. So now they had killed all of them. As the youngest brother, a lad, was watching the thing in which the oldest brother's arrows were held, it now moved about and fell to the ground. "Hoho!" he then said to his eldest sister; "So now our big brother has been killed! Yes, now he has been killed. Now then, I shall go seek our elder brothers." "Oh, indeed!" said his elder sister to him; "And you are the one, are you, to get the better of things where even our older brothers have been killed? You are the one, are you, to fight things down? You will get killed! Don't go, don't go!" "No! Am I to be the one to live, do you suppose, when our older brothers have been done to death? If I too get killed there, I shall be glad of it," said the lad. On the next day he set out. When he came to that sea and looked out toward the west, he could not see the end of that sea; and in that direction also, whence this sun comes rising, his eye did not reach to see how great was that lake. And there, up to that place went the tracks of those men. That old man, "Now I have killed them all," he must have thought. 26 402 402Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hdi'w, inuh pehni'hseh: 'p6'ts niw nina-pi'Atam; nina-wi'hlkihes8im ini's akdi'miah. nah&'wv, umd'2-nakah aw-uhtdi'2neh s a-n6'we~neh!' iniwi'n-pih tdh, 'ayi'n Anuh upiwanit'slkinun, ini'2 ise'lciu' aw4'wi yen; ini's tdh ani'nuh ne'2nilkutua2 aki'Icuh n~'matalk ii's as alk~ti'kin ani'nuh uftd'h~wa'wAn, ini'2 as a-pdi'wihsi'nan!' nahd'w, iniwi'n keh upewanii'slin as d''wit inuh pehni'hseh tsiWispdi'2sit; iniwi'n-teh-nalc d'hpakitd'2sit. ini's tdh tsi-wi'1itua? inuh lke~ts-ind'niw, ini'win as ts'fpatsih me~ti'k,; ini'win tdih as alka'talk md'ts-wasd'2. ha'?, ni'? lkeh as is3pd'2sit; iniwi'n teh s pt'wihsih. kayjs-pei'wihsih, iniwi'n-pih nayi'pi~tAt. mi'nakah dindpit, 8i WASa?te 'wAnin ani'nuh utih~wdi'wAn inuh ke~ts-ind-'niw misi'Ik teh inuh we' YAwekelh. tas'? teh PAS a'si?tAt w%'yAk s3 a-ne?na'tsin? lkAn wi'yAlk pas uwi'hkiha'nan s a-ne'2natsin. inuh tiih me~ti'k misjwd' niu' iawin Idi'lch lcute`2na8,uhktd'Ikwen; kJs-md'wa-niw-pa~c~tdin ani'nuh htd'hlcwAnAn; lAn W$'yAIk pas uwi'hlihesi'nan s aw-ahku'ahtawet mins s a'tikin ani'nuh ut4'h6 -wawvan. nahd'w, inuh we' yAwe~ceh ini'win d'ts: 'nikdi'2ts-miAntd'tsitehdi'skAk inuh matsi'hlkiwi8 kayi's-MUAlk. tsiyd'w y6'm ahkoj'w as Ikg'skikceh ini'? as awfjh-m9'miney-en,' -s awj'h-pakgnid'tsin ini'8 s kis-mu'atsin. iniwi'n-pih 8ayii'kit6'hnet ini's wej'Icwa2 linuh wi'yAWkleh. iniwi'npik dind'pit ini's8ani'nuh utd?'hdwawan- s alk~ti'kin; apdhni'hs-eh siwa8 mipuwi'win ini's ini'h WA5SV?. 'nuhs&fh,' indi'win, 'k-ina-p&'pehts8ind'm!' iniwin-pih inuh apehni'hseh ani'nuh umd'?tikwAn wtg'p kay&~-,nA'pa~td'hnituk, iniwvi'n-pih kiw-in6'hah ani'nuh inuh wg'yAw~keh uldi'h. ini'win tih ini'S s MiAnd'tsitehat. 'nuh,'h, lkina-pii'pek tsiniim; 1c~'pin pdpehtsind'yan Ikin~w-nipd'rn!' iniwi'n-pih wi'nah inuh apehni'hseh pdimutah inihk IAtdi'w utd'h.amIA's nayi'Akllt s kAtdi'w-pim6'tah inih uitd'h iniwi'n-pih ps-ahku'Ahtawet inuh we' yAwekeh. wehtsita Idi'2tin siw i'hih ahku'AhtaWtdkanih dhku'Ahtaweh pis-in&'htawe'win pis-ahku~'ahtawet. 8a?di'h UMA '8 kdi~tsi'h pis-t&'nit, iniwi'n-pih pd'mukth inih utdi'h. we'htsita cd'2tin inuh we' yAwkele ayd'hpitsi'hsih pii'pehtsih. ini'win-pilh misi'lk inuh ke~ts3-indi'niw: 'nuhsj'h, kinaw-uhtd'kutsiiniwi'n-pih mis9i'lk dn6'hah inih w#j'p inuh ke~ts-inii'niw inih utei'h. ha'w, iniwin-pih wi'nah ap pis-ahlku'ahtawet. sa?ye'h UMAs ke~tsi'h pis-td' nit, iniwi'n-pih pft'mutah inih uti'h Anuh ke~ts-ind'niwAn. ta'?, ini? lkeh uhtii'lutsih winah ap inuh Ike?t8-ind'niw, hdi'w, sy'h Ih&'w, iniwi'n-pih tdh pd'ni?tAt apehni'hseh, awAh-pi'htikcet inih wd'k~waw. ka yis-pi'htilket, siwa's apj' win miftd'muh; ani'wanin utdnuwawan alki'luh MAtS9?-awd'tukAlk. t~a'?. ini'wvin di'kut ani'nuh mitdmuhSAn:- 'ni'nah kc~n niw~itf'h 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 403 Then that lad, "I shall surely get there; I shall make shift to get over to the other side. Now then, from this direction let the wind blow!" And then, "That floss-down, that is the kind of thing I shall be; and there where hang the hearts of those who have killed my brothers, there let me glide down!" Thereupon that lad was a piece of plant-down and was blown aloft, and he was blown toward the place where dwelt that old man and his family. There stood a tree, and in that tree hung a large nest. "Now, here let me glide down!" he said. So he ceased to be blown aloft; he glided down. When he had descended, he stood up. He looked over there: there they lay, the hearts of that old man and that old woman. What could one do to kill them? No one could manage to kill them. For that tree had no branches anywhere about it; it had lost all its branches; no one could possibly manage to climb to where those hearts of theirs were placed. Now the old woman said, "That oldest brother I have eaten is greatly nauseating me. I am afraid I shall have to go to the edge of the earth and vomit," - meaning to give up him she had eaten. Then the old woman stepped out of their lodge. Thereupon she looked where their hearts were suspended: why, there stood a lad, there in the nest! "Grandchild of mine," she said to him; "You will fall!" At that time the lad, having placed his arrow on the sinew of his bow ready to shoot, was aiming at the old woman's heart. That was what made her feel nausea. "Grandchild, you will fall! If you fall, you will die!" Just then the lad was on the point of shooting that heart of hers. When she saw him about to shoot at her heart, the old woman started climbing up there. In very truth, as one climbs on a real ladder, so she came up the tree, climbing. When she had come quite close he shot her heart. Truly the old woman took a mortal fall, as she fell. Then the old man, too, "Grandchild, you will tumble down from there!" Thereupon again he pointed his arrow at the old man's heart. Then he too started to climb up there. When he had got quite close, he shot the old man's heart. So then down tumbled the old man, falling to death. Then the lad descended and went over into that wigwam of theirs. When he had entered, there sat a woman; she was the daughter of those evil spirits. This woman then said to him, "I was not their accomplice in 26* 404 404Publications, American Ethnological Societ~y Vol. XII kawanuwa'wan y6'mb as is,'?tAtua? as mu'atua2 p/irn'tesinit. nahei'w, JcAn tdh pas uyii'hpits-nipdi'nuwawan. kina-wti'hamun O~h awisW2ayan as a-ydi'hpits-nipd'Ikua?.' 'nahd'w!' indi'win inuh pehni'hseh. 'mehse'wAn 1kinaw-vusj'htu2; kinaw-n&'tamun., iniwi'n Jdih s vus~'htukua? mehs3j'wAn. iniwi'n-pih tdh misi d'2natua2 ani'nuh ke~ts-i ntd'ni W~n misi'Ic ani'nuh we' yAwelkehikun. iniwi'npih tek anuh mehse' W~n ni's di'2tukcua2, me?8i'h niw ani'nu~h mehsj'W~n. hcvw, iniwin-pi'h tdth payii'tawe'tua2 wi'nusuatua2. kay~smdi'waw-mdi'2tisitua2 wi'nusitua2, iniwi'n-pih ani'nuh uhldi'nan payi'2sahii'hkua2 sdi'2sakuhahkcua?. iniwi'n-pih misi'k ay h-ini'tawetua2 wi'nusii'hkua2, m6'sah teh niw pehlci'h as Ct'wik. 'hi'w, ini'? Idih aya'hpits-nipi'kua?,' iwd'hin inuh mitii'muh. hm', nahd'w, iniwi'n umte'win dis-kip~'htsikAtdik inih W'k-iwAm. iniwin-pih paydi'hkinah inuh miti'muh: "aMA's s a-pdi'hkcina'man, ahk~ndt'hin n6'hne? uti'hsehsAn. ini'?, y6'? as i't,' j&wd'hin; 'kinapimii'aw tah; kW'-tdh-ne'?nat, kina-wi'nusit'anaw wi'nah nap.' ha', ini'? keh pay&'hkinah inuh mitdi'muh inih slcu'ahtem. iniwi'niniwin-pih pdMU,'Ats8in inuh pehni'hseh. ha'?. ini'? s ne?na'tsin. hd'w, ini?-pih ani'nuh as wvinIsu,'atua?. kaye-s-md'waw-wj'nus8it, ini'?-pih misi'Ic ani'nuh uhkii'nan say&'?sakuha'hkua2. wi'nus~i'hkua?. nahM'wI ini'? keh s kjs-ne?na'tua?. nahei'w, iniwi'n-pih payi'htiket ini'h nikut wj'kiuAmn; ani'nuha we - matAn iniwin s akit'tsihkua? mds~'wa niw 1cayjs-ne?ni'htua?. iniwi'npih misi'k sayii'kit5'hnet inuh pehni'hseh. imi'nakah Ti'kaw inih wj,'kiwAm ini'win a'8iAt. payi'Atdit inis a'saw, usa'IMAtin uhki''nan, j/ima'tesi'tua? uhkii'ne~wawan, nilcuh tsi-kitdwmu'atua? pdmii'tesinit kayi's-ne?na'tu~a?. 'nahd'w, ndi'tam~wina?!' ind'wvin ani'nuh mnit4'muh8An nuh apehni'hseh. ini'win tdh as un&'?tuk ani'nuh uthkii'nan m&'wva niuw; y6'mn niw, Wisina'kusiyah, md'wa niw ini'win di'na?tukc as uw8~'hnitukc, pi ts. ma'wa niw kayj,8-kj'si?tat, md'waw ani'nuh uhkii'nan, iniwi'n-pih ini's ayayisiAnd'tua? ani'nuh wj'matAn &'neh kAname'hts3iw mayiZ'htua?. naha'w, iniwi'n-pih tdih inih w~'p ispdi'miah kiw-ahpt'mtL VhA, 5n~'pahtuku'n, 5nj'pahtuku'n! kiftV?nus8i'MUAw!' nis-inuh di'hpemit inih w~'p, iniwi'n-pih mii'wa niw sakcj'?tawanin ani'nuh uhkdi'nan. n~'w-inuh d~'hpemit inik wZYp, iniwi'n-~pih mayd~timj'hsqiwjkin anih uhk&'nan; su'asik tahnd'nuh a'hpemit inik wj'p, iniwin y6'm isinii'kusituai? misj'wd niw; sd'kdiw tahni'nuh 4'hpemit nih w~'fp, ini'win-pih mid'wva niw y6'm d'napitua?, ye3'm, - kinawndp,- as apj'yah. mitd'tahne'nu~h di'hpemit inik wZ'p, 'hjAy, unj'~pahtukun, un~'pahtukun, kita'?nusiMUAW!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 405 this thing they did, of eating human beings. Now, they cannot be entirely dead. But I shall tell you what to do, so that they will really die." "Very well!" said the lad to her. "We shall make some fire-wood; I will help you." Then they prepared fire-wood. They set down the old man and the old woman, and in the same place there put down that firewood, a great amount of it. Thereupon they made a fire and burned them up. When they were entirely burnt up in the blaze, then they broke their bones into small pieces and mashed them. Then they built another fire and burned the bones until there was nothing but ashes. "There! Now they are really dead," said the woman. Over at one end the wigwam was partitioned off. Then the woman opened it, "When I open that place, watch for my father's dog. This is where it stays," she said; "You will shoot it; when you have killed it, we shall burn it too." So then the woman drew open that door. A large dog came running out; large it was, a big dog. As it ran out, the lad shot it. He killed it. Then they burned it too. When it was all burned up, they beat its bones fine and burned them. So then they had killedit. Then he entered that other part of the house. There hung his brothers, all of whom had been killed. Then the lad went out again. Over there, behind the house he went. When he came behind the house, there was a vast amount of bones, bones of people, as many as they had completely eaten of the people whom they had slain. "Come, help me!" said the lad to the woman. Thereupon he arranged all those bones; just as is our visible form, so he laid out all of them, arranging them carefully. When he had finished all, all those bones, then they brought to that place, one after another, those of his brothers who had not yet been eaten. Then he shot an arrow into the air. "Hey, jump up, all of you! Something is falling on you!" When he shot the second arrow, all those bones joined. When he shot the fourth arrow, the bones took on flesh; when he shot the eighth arrow, they all looked like thisl all over; when he shot the ninth arrow, they all sat up like this, as we - let us sit up,2 - are sitting. When he shot the tenth arrow, "Hey, jump up, jump up! Something is falling on you!" 1 I. e., as we look. 2 Narrator and listeners were lying on the ground. 406 406Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n-pih mdi'wa niw wdni'tua2 as ni'pi~tatua2 as yC~h-pernd'teIsitua?. ha'h, ma'waw; usamatin pdimd'tesitua?, md'wa niw ni'lcuh pis-d'ts-ahlce'wilc nikuh s kih-~pis-ne'2natua2 aki'lcuh inuh Ike~tsind~'niw. ini'win tdih s yah-pim&'tsihatsin inuk pehni'kseh. 'nah&'w, kdk~wd'Ikun ta'2-nalkah tsi-k~s-y~h-pi'nikIe ydk!' k&'neh 1kehkj'namukin nalcak tsi-kj8-y~h-p~'nikutua? ani'nuhs ke~t~s-i ndVni wAn, hii'neh tehl Iawi'n ulkd'hlkinanu'wawAn, ahpi'ts ani'nuh tdh wj'matAn inuh MAtsi'hkiwi-s d'hlkulut lki'tsinuicAnin; inih nilku't uhka't taslku'ahlkWAtin. ini'? teh wdhk-li'tsinulcah: payd'IkWAts8kayd'nit nilcu't inih uhlk&'n, lkayd'nit tsi-ki's-a?taw inuhk mitd'muh. ini'? tiih wd'h-ki'tsinukah. nakhi'w, ini? teh as w~'kiMAtSin aninuh mita'muI&sAn inuh apehni'hseh. 'nahd'w, kina-nt~ndh6'naw nirnj'h,' ~wiv 'hin; 'nikc~h-pis-nilkdn6'naw imi's i-a yjs-y~h-p~'yen.' 'nahdi'w!' iw&'hin inuh mitei'muJh. iniuwi'n leak s Matsi'Ahta?. payi'Atua? ini's wj'kc~wa?, na'weytw min'8 pi'htik iniwi'n $ ap~'t tnuh ani'nuh urn~'hsmn; a'mislcwAn, me'? tik-d'miskWAn iniwi'n td'hkunah, inuk ani'nuh umj'hsAn. iniwi'n tdh d'ts inuh ani'nuh umj'h8An, 'Ana'mulk d'neh ini'? iciiniwi'n-pih lkayu'Apahah inih pehki'h; iniwi'n-teh-na'lkaI imi's s tani'taIh dsis-silcwd'pinah. WhAy, nim~'?, sa?yd'kh mpi'Am, mind'? ayd'wiyen, pipd'hkcit~i'hsek,' ind'win. 'and'muk &'neh ki-pis-isi'tua?!' iwii'hin inuh mitd.'muh. 4nimjA?, nine'? wehd'h ay&'wi yen, pipd'hlcits8'hseh,' ind'win. payd'kWAtS yd'pit8 kcakc'pihkc6'win, twi-Iki-pi8 —sik~nikcut wiid'luhsAn, pd'hpenutei'kut. iniwi'n-pih, - units9yA'nehs~wd'wan tdi'wanin inuh pehni'hselh,ini' win dnd'tsin ani'nuh w~~'wan: 'm5'hin, as a-mr5'k-,' ind'win ani'nuh We'WAn. ta'?, iniwi'n-pih may~hd'ts3in. UMAS sn6'htawatsin ani'nuh rntsi'Anun inuh mitd'muh, iniwi'n-pih tsayj'pi?tAt. iniwi'n dnd'tsin inulh apehni'hseh: 'nimj'?,' ind'win, 'nine'? wdhe'h ayd'wi yen, ppdhlkitsi'hseh. ayu'm e? lkind'hklWAneh.' h&A, iniwi'n niw d's-m~lk inuh mitd'muh, utd'hpina'tsin ani'nuh nitsi'Anun. 'nahd'w, nehsj-'?, wdw'n'in s ydh-pi'yen. ini'? tih lki-pi's-isi'tua? alcum wd'lcuhsAlc, pdhpenu'tawitua?. 8a?ye'h WAnitipa'hkah& ini'?-pih a-~pm'Atua? s8a-pis-tdwd'hiketua?. y6'? teh tipd'h d'hkluah as kiw-ni'mihe'titua?, pd'kpenu'tsiketua?.' nahii'w, iniwi'n-pih inuh pehni'hseh anuh Wj'WAn nipj'w nayd'tilc s kisj'?nihlkund'tsin; iniwi'n-pih teh nd'p nayd'milc. n~ahd'w, MIniinpih pay~tawe'tua?, tsipd'hlcitua?, mi'tsihsi'tUa?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 407 Thereupon they all arose and stood up, being restored to life. All of them; great was the number of people, all the number of those whom from the beginning of the earth to this time that old man and his wife had slain. So now that lad restored them to life. "Very well; now return home, each to whatever place he was brought from!" Some knew whence they had been brought hither by that old man, but others did not know, so long ago was it that they must have been brought hither and eaten. But of his brothers, the one next to the oldest was lame; one of his legs was too short. He was lame, because, it turned out, that woman had laid down a wrong bone, someone else's; that was why he was lame. Then that lad married that woman. "Now then, we shall seek my sister," he said; "We left her behind, when we came here, at the place from which I hail." "Very well," said the woman. So then they set out. When they came to their lodge, there inside, in the center of the lodge, sat his elder sister. A spoon, a wooden spoon that sister of his was grasping. "Here I am, sister!" he said to her. Then said his sister, "Some dogs come here and say that to me!" said she. Therewith she scooped up some ashes, and in the direction from which the voice came, she dashed it. "Why, sister, I have come now; it is I, your youngest brother!" "That is what some dogs come here and say to me!" she answered. "Sister, it is really I, your youngest brother!" he told her. The fact was that she was entirely blind, for foxes had come and made water on her, abusing her. Thereupon, - that lad and his wife had a child, - he said to his wife, "Make him cry," he said to his wife. She made the child weep. When that woman heard the child, she jumped up with a start. Then the lad said to her, "Sister mine," he said to her; "It is really I, your youngest brother. Here is your nephew!" Then did that woman weep, as she took up that child. "Little brother, thanks, and I am glad that you have come back. That is what these foxes always come and say to me, when they abuse me. When it grows dark they will come, and beat the waterdrum here. They dance here all night and destroy things." Then the young man's wife fetched water and washed the other's face; then she could see again. Then they made a fire, cooked, and ate their meal. 408 408 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini'win anctsimi'2tawatsin ani'nuh uhs.~'mehsAn inuh mitd'muh: y5? ki-pis-pa'hpenutawi'tua2 alci'kuh wdi'kuhsAk-.' hd'w, iniwi'n keh 8 a-kehkcinahlcua?. iniwi'n-pih ts3iw-us8i'htukua?2 kdi'k~h imi's s ki'Asitua2. hd'W, 8a24'h wdni'tipdi'hkah, iniwi'n-pih jxayi'Atua? akuh wad'kuh8Akc s Owd'hike'tua?. 'nahM'w, 3a~d'h nipi'Am, nim~'2, nine'9 aya'wi yen, pipehkcitsi'hseh!' pihtilki'wanetitua2 w&'lkUhSAk, ni'mitua2, peihpenu'tsilcetua2, 'hM'ne?? nine'? ayd'wi yen, pipdhkitsi'hseh!' 'nehsj'2,' jwd'hin inuh miktdmuh, 'wd'kuhbAk nipai'h&~inutii'kuk!` 'hu,'wa?, mnu'? payi'tsimatsin uhsj'meh8An!' iwd' kin aku& uW'kuhSAk.C iniwi'n-pih wi'nah inuh pehni'hseh wdan'pahtuk. 'jA, a-pi'tsimew uIhsi'mehsAn! yd"'? as i't nine'? aya'wi yen, ppe1hkit8M'heh!' utei'kas kay&s-naw&'tinah, ha'w, wd'kuhsAk as kAta'w-8a'kitsi'palhtu'kua2, esku'AIhtemilh ii'? as nj'puwvit inuh apehni'hseh, md'wa niw as ne~na'tsin' ani'nuh wd~'k-uhsAn. iniwi'n teh wdi'h, kiw-iwd'1c, y6'hpih n&!nikut as tdi't inuh wd'kuh, sii1'nien-wd'kuh kiw-ind'tua? m~hkumdi'nAk. ini'win mii'wa niw. niku't tdih kgs-kasjwd'win. iniwi'n teh wd'Ih kAt as rnOi'ndit inuh si'l/rfri'ks. ini'? keh d'hkik; ini? min'waw nitii'te?n6'hkakAnt. 102. THE EVIL BRO THER-IN-LA W. (pa yd'wilhsi&) nahM'w, w~'kiwAkin mma'tsi?tawak; mita'talbiwAkin; niku't Ti'wiwAnin uk5'?8imuwdi'wan. nalha'w, iniwi'n telh s palhpisitua?. nawg'naw aya'wik, mi'p mats yA'tua?, paIhpi'situa?, kay&s-nimats yA'tua'?, iniwi'n-pilh payi'takut inuh mitd'mul& ina'niwAn. Cd mi' sa~ydi'I as kjs-MditsyA'tua? kul& nk)'-?8imaw,.k!' 'nalh&'w, nilka'ta-ka'?t8-ndwa'wAk. w#~htam5'win nehkdi'h ki8-pyA''nahd'w!'indi'win, 'nna-wZ'Ihtam~wd'WAk,' indi'win. nd'Ihkal& pi'WAkin aki'kul& ind'niwAk, pakpi'situa?; me?si'h pindi'wAkin pi'hsusun. Iha'?, nulh mitdi'muh ahsiimi'tsin ani'nuh k5'?sima'wan, iniwi'n icAt s mehkdwd'nihta1h PAS W.j'Itam,5wd'tsin. wayd'pah mi'p iniwi'n-pih, mats yA'tua?, kayjs-ma'waw-matsyA'tua?, iniwi'n-pih misi'k payi'At inulh ind'niw. 'M'w, ksa'? kkcjs-Wi'Ihtamuwxd'nuwawan!' 'eita?, kAn nimdi'Akawe'niIhtanan; sdm mdnd't kiw-in&'nuhke yen s usj'Ihtawan y5m M~'timnj'kseh.' 1 Gesture: fist several times l oudly clapped into palm. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 409 Then the woman told her brother the story, "Hither those foxes come and abuse me." So now they knew how it was. They arranged something to hide in. When it had grown dark, the foxes came and beat the waterdrum. "Well, I have come now, sister! It is I, your youngest brother!" "Yes, that is what these creatures come here and say to me!" The foxes came filing in, dancing, destroying things, "How d'you do? It's me, your youngest brother!" "Little brother of mine," said the woman, "foxes are abusingme!" "Whew! There she is, bringing her brother by her voice!" said the foxes. Then that youth leapt up. "Hey, she will bring her brother by the sound of her voice! Here he is! It is I, the youngest brother!" He picked up his club; as the foxes tried to run out of the place, the young man stood in the doorway, and killed all of those foxes. That, people say, is the reason why there are only very few of those foxes, silver-foxes the white people call them. For at that, time he killed all of them; only one got away. And that is why that silver-fox is not plentiful. So that is the end; my story is done. 102. THE EVIL BROTHER-IN-LAW. (Payawihsih) Some people dwelt in a place; they were ten in number; they had a sister. And there they hunted. After a time, when early in the morning they had gone off to hunt, then a man came to that woman. "Oh, my brothers have already gone!" "I very much desire to see them. Tell them, in the evening when they come, to wait for me." "Yes," she told him; "I shall tell them," she said to him. In the evening the men came home from the hunt; they brought many deer. The woman, as she gave her brothers their meal, did not think of telling them the message. Early the next morning they set out again. When they had all departed, again came that man. "Oh, and so you did not give them the message!" "Why, I did not think of it; I have so much work preparing this meat." 410 410Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'naha'w, nina'?nuh 'wi'nah w~'htam6'win-eh. wj'ki niw nlka'taka,'?ts-nawa'WAk.' 'hah&'w, nina-wj'htam~w&'WAk!' iku'ahin. ha'w, iniwin-pih tsi-Ma'tsiAt. na'hkah pi'WAkin aki'kuh ina'niwAk. ta'?, s&'matin; niktd'tahsiwVAk- ta? lcih ina'niWAk. iniwi'n? Milis$I IAt mdi'hkawe'nihtah. a'? payi'Anit misik anuh ind'niWAn mi'p. 'h&", kasa"'? kkjs-wi'htamuwa' nuwawan!' IaAta~?,kAn nimdi'hkawe'nihtanan; us&'m indnd't ki'-i n&'nuhke yen.' h&'w, mni? s mamd'hsatsi'hikut. 'naha'w, y6'? niw as a-papi'hakua?,' jwa'hin. iniwin teh niw as i't ki'seh d'hlcwah. nd'hkah iniwin s pyA'tua? misik akikuh. ha'w, ind'niwAn nctwa'wAkin. payi'At nuh?AAtsi'hkiWi8 s pi'htiket. 'ha'. inisa'? W~?tunaw s ki'8-piAt!' hi', inuh vhsj'mimaw mna-ma'wawv nehk5'siwin.,hMA, matsi'hkiwis, ha'? teh pa'pik kd'k~h sa?y4'h ki-ki'wani'miyen?' ta'?, iniwi'n td'h niw w~'kimatsin aninuh mnitd'inuh8An, nuha'hkapit, ha'w, ini'? keh kUs-5wi'?tawitua?, h&'w, ini'? teh misi'Ic pa'pahpisitua?. nk~td's8 aya'wik, ini'p kay&s-mi'tsihsitua?, 'naha'w, nj'?tawAk, y6'? ni ninah s aw-i'yen; nna-na'tam~waw ayum kk-6'?simuwaw s3 a-mn 'tsima'hkcet.' 'haha'w, ka'?tmn, nehsj'MnehsAk!' ~wa'hin rnatsi'hkiwiq. ha'?,I iniwi'n keh n&'tamawa'ts8in usi'htukua? inih m#~'tsimj'hseh, ha'ta'?, akuh teh ind'niWAk pahpi'situa? n'it'tsihatua? ap&'hsusun. naha'w, nik6'tas nd'hkah, iniwi'n-pih wa'sihtuk apu'anan inuh ind'niw mita'tah, rnisi'k usj'tan apa'hsns8 us-'tan pahnd'win rnitii'tah misik. 'naha'w, y61? keh a-pits-mi'tsikua? akuh kk6'?sirna'wAk. w6' pats aw-a'yuna'kowAk,' ina'win anuh wZ'wan. inuk rnitd'muh iniwi'n-pih ni'w may6'k. kawin p6't Idi'k~h utd,'nan6'kkenan. kiseh a'hkwah ma'win. nd'hkah payi'Atua? ma'waw, 'ha'? tehl a'siki'yen?' 'ta? na'?s aw-isj'kiyen? ni'? teh ti'ts ayum, anuh lcitapu'anuwawan s usij'htuk ani'nu~h teh tsiw-a-m~'tsik, ini'? teh a'ts: "wj'pat,8 awa' yuna'kowAk, " kit4'kuAw.' ha'w, min?-pih tsiw-aw-aya'ne?nih rnats8i'hkiwis: 'a'ni? a'nahkamikah d'siki yen, pa'pik niw kli'k~h nahk65'tarnan?' ind'wAkin wvdw~'matitua?. aha', ta'?, mi'p ini'win d'kutua? akuh ani'nuh wj'?tawuwa'wan: 'hi, In~'?tawak, ninA',s ninaw-isi'Ain; nip~'hs8eh UinAS taku'ah; nnawAh-ntawa'puina'wAk nAind'hkuk. nehkja'h pi'yen, kina-wj'htamunine 'muAw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Text8 411 "Very well, be sure to tell them this time. I do want very much to see them." "Yes, I shall tell them," she answered him. Then he went away. At nightfall those men came home. There was very much to do; for there were ten of those men. Then again she did not think of it. So, when the man came again in the morning, "Oh, and so you did not give them the message!" "Why, I did not think of it; there is so much work I have to do." Then he took to flirting with her. "Well, then right here I shall wait for them," he said. So there he stayed all day. In the evening the men came back. There they saw the man. When the oldest brother came and entered the lodge, "Oho, and so our brother-in-law has come!" The youngest brother grew angry. "Now, Matsihkiwis, why are you always ready with foolish words?" And then that man married the woman and stayed there with his wife's people. So now they had a brother-in-law. They went hunting always, as before. One morning, after they had eaten, "Now, Brothers-in-law, right here is where I shall stay; I shall help your sister here prepare the stored meat." "Very well, Brothers!" said Matsihkiwis. So then he helped her prepare the meat, while those men were off hunting deer. Then once in the evening that man prepared ten portions of roast meat, and ten deer's feet also did he singe over the fire. "Now then, this is what your brothers shall eat when they come. In short time they will grow fat," he told his wife. Then the woman wept. She did no work at all. All day long she wept. In the evening, when they all came home, "Oh, what is ailing you?" "What do you suppose will be ailing me? This is what this person said, when he prepared the roasts you are to eat, - this is what he said, 'In short time they will grow fat,' he said of you." Then Matsihkiwis was upbraided, "What in the world is wrong with you, that you are in such haste to accept things?" his brothers asked him. The next morning that brother-in-law of theirs said to them: "Now, Brothers-in-law, I am going over here; there is a lake here; I shall go look for beavers. In the evening, when I come home, I shall tell you about them." 412 41 ~ Publicatilons. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kdi'2tin mdi'ts-wvj 2 w~'k-Owaw, lkh nAMa'hkuk,. payi'At wvj'lkwa?, nd'hkah, as-Jpi'Anit nuh u~'e'aWAn, hd'w, mini teh nAna'h-pAka'ts s d'tsimi'2tawa'tsin. IdAh, nfj'2tawAk,, diniivd'k mana'WAk, nAMd'hklvk!' 'hah&'w, wdi' pahkina'w-isia2. kina-w~h-n5'tsih6'naWAkc. kinft'ts3ihAmab'kwAn~uwa,,'wan kinaw-usj'htu? md'wa, ni' ni.' hdi'w, wayii'pah iniwin s usi'htukcua2 ani'nuh. ta'?, ki'seh ti'hkwah niw us~'htaW~xkin ani'nuh. inn'h teh mammd'w uhs~'mimaw tsiw-Cl'ueit as. us~htulk inik niZ'tsihAmIn'k-wAn1, wadhtsitA' niw me~si'win nih me'2tilc. ini'win di'k-ut annh wiv~'tawan, 'V" ni~a't, sa-m me?,si'w!' hd'w, waydi'pah, 'haha'w, k-Atd's kitii'siA2!f' matS yA'tu~a?, piAta'tua? inis, nimd'2, kldi2tin n6'2suh iniwi'n as a?ti'k inil& wv'k~waw alki'kuh7 nAMii'hlcuk. 'ha ha'w, n~'taWAk, pap.?'m-kip&'hamu,'kun anuh wZ'kuwawan lci'a~ts yo nip~'hseh. nna'h teh nina-wtjh-pi'kuhan nih w~'kuwaw.` h&'W, iniwi'n-pih mayiitsyA'tua2 mi-ki pai'hiihkua2 anuh wgku'wawan. hd'w, ayum indi'niw, inuh, mnu'? d'wvih-pi'kw~Jhah inih wZ'lk~waw. 1kay.~s-pi'kwahah, iniwvi'n-pih wdi'sihtuk, me~si'h tawdi'nah inih w~'lcwaw. nahd'qw, k-ayjs-kU'sihtuk,. iniwvi'n-pih ndi'tumA'tin aninuh we'matAn. 'hah&'w, pyA'kun! pits-tsj'?nap&'htanmn'Icn y&'m! 4t'niwdi'k keh ts3i-mand'wAk, niMA'tAk!' as tsi-piAta'tva?, 'nahd'qv, nimA.' tAk-, pi,'htike'kun ninA's; kut&'skih&'~w, iniwi'n payi'htiketita? akuh nd'niwAk mitdi'tah. iniwin api't-s-rnf'skinetua?. inu'h teh vhsi'mima tsiw-d'wit: 'nh&', ni~a't, ni? s a-minu'askine 'yan; pi'htilce'nun! haha'wv!' iniwin d'ts inuh indi'niw. 'naha'w, nbi?a't, ii'nu, keh kin&'mi2, ni? niw ii'nu s pas t4'paskina'yAn.' 'hahM'w, niMA'tAkc, nina-minu'atsimim si'kwAn~wikI; miti'tah lcs-td'paskindi'wak n~'tawak nAMa'hkculc wZ'kc6waw kay&s-inei'kuhlkwah; ninaw-ina'i'tsimim si'kwah. - hi', ni?a't, pi'htile'nun!' vhse'mimaw tsiwli'wit. nahii'w, k~tdi's iniwi'n as kd7'Icitit inuh in4'niw; aki'kuh pi'htikc ayi'tua2 iniwin med'waw ndpdi'tua?. hd'w, misi'lk as Ik&'kitinit, iniwi'n-pih pcd'kamatsin inih nii'tsihamdi'kWAn, pi'kitahd'tsin, as ahpei'kitaha'tsin. iniwi'n-pih tayu,'ahah; iniwin s kehtiipihdi'tsin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 413 Then, in the morning that man set out, and when he had come to his destination, there truly was a great beaver-lodge, the dwelling of those beavers. "Here we are!" he thought, and returned home. When he had reached home, in the evening, and his brothersin-law also came home, then he told them his tale with delight. "Oh, Brothers-in-law, there are surely many beavers!" "Very well, let us go tomorrow. We shall go hunt them. We shall all make beaver-spears for ourselves." So the next day they made them. All day they were making them. And when the youngest brother made his spear, truly of great size was that piece of wood. Then that brother-in-law said to him, "Why, my friend, it is too big!" "No! It is just right!" he answered him. Then, on the next day, "Come, it is time for us to go there!" They set out and reached that place, and there, really, a ways from the bank, stood the lodge of those beavers. "Now then, Brothers-in-law, go round and block their lodges on every side of this lake. As for me, I shall go break the lodge." Then they went and blocked the lodges. But as for this man, he was the one to go and break open the lodge. When he had burst it open, then he prepared it, making a big opening in the beavers' lodge. When he had done this, he called his companions. "Well, come here! Come look at this thing! There must be a big enough number of them, friends!" When they had got there, "Well, friends, go inside here; see if there is room enough for you to get inside!" Then those men went inside the lodge, all ten of them. There was just enough room for them to get in. But there was still the youngest one, "Well, friend, you could get in there very nicely; do you go inside! Come!" Thus spoke that man. "Why, friend, we can see it very well as it is, that I should find plenty of room in there!" "Well, friends, I shall have a good story to tell in spring, how all ten of my brothers-in-law were able to get into a beavers' lodge, so big was it; that will be my story next spring. - Well, friend, do you go inside!" "No, I tell you; we can see it well enough as it is," the youngest brother answered him. Then suddenly that man gave a cry; and at that all those who were within fell asleep. When he gave a second cry, then the other struck him with his beaver-spear and knocked him down. Then he beat a hole in the ice; he shoved him down into the water. After 414 414Publicationm, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI naw~'naw ayd'wikc, iniwin-pikh pits-mift'slcamit, pi'lcuslawd'tsin aninuIh mehkk'amiAn. iniwi'n, misik pakhmnd'tsin, mitsid s yah-keht&pihd'tsin misik niw. nawj'nawv iniwin ni'w, misilemf'Yskarnit, pe'kuskawdi'tsin anuh mehku'amiAn; iniwin ni' misik s y&It-kelhtipihd'tsin. naw~nd'hsihsih misik md'nawats pj'kvuskawdi'win ani'nuh mehlcu'arniAn, misik ydh-kehtfipihdi'ts3in. iniwi'n keh3 s ks-ne'Onatsin; kawi'n Miisik Upi'Anan. h7'w, ini'?-pih e'8iAt anuh we'mnatmt. iniwin teh d'ts, 'IhjAy, MAtsihkiwi's, kWsikpj/'pehnen!' hd'~, mitsi'hkiwis kahkii'wapiwin; ndsldi'n ni keIhk~namin. 'l&Ay, MAtsihkiwi'8, kWsik pJ'pehne'n!' 'hi'h hya'h!' Zwdi'hin MAtSi'hkiwis. kitsj'pahtuk;- wa'h, cnuidkhalui'w, ini?-pih inuh indi'niw kaye-8-ne'2natsin anul& wZ'2tawan hd'w, iniwin, kiwvd'tua2, payiAtd'tua2, ini'win ctni'tua2 anuh 'ul&'2simu~wdI'wan: ' mahkdi'sinan us8e'htuh; kina-w-usi'mif' ifla'WAk anuh uk5'?2simuuw.d' wan. ha'w, iniwi'n-pih?uli'sihtuk mahkdi'sinan. k-ayjs-kWsihtvuk m~t'wva ni niw, naha'w, ini'win 4'ts mnatsi'hkici8~, '1hahd'w, nehse'mehs3Ak, ni'wuku'nakah ini'2-pih pits-ntiiwd'pahtsikdi'sit. hakd'i'w umd'2-pilh teA miyd'w ayi'tua2 kimi,'hsamd'Asin~awAk; ini'2. teA aw-isi' yak. -kit6'hkanek p~'hnahaA,' ind,'w.in nuh k5ux'2 -simawan, peZ'AnaIhah inuh mittd'mnAhumfIti'Asih. misi'k sut'hkWASAn pj'hnahin kimfIGt'hsih.' 'hahM', kAta'S teA kimd'tsia2!' h&'w. iniwvi'n kehmats yA'tua?, usi'mitua2. uma'h8soma/Asuwa'wan s3 isyA'tua2. V^?A2 ta'2, kiSi'Ak~kah, kisi'AJhkah, kisi'Ahkcah!' ind'wVAkin nuh 5k5'2sitmvuwawan. hM'ta2, iniwin,3 pimni'pahtvu'lua2. kd"2tin, nayi'wuku'nakah, 8a~yd'h nay&'wahlkik, ~ini'2-pih a,pitt8-Ata,'mina'hkvua2!' jwd'hinImAtSi'Akiwis. way&'pah nayd'?vahkik, kAni'wvin ninw pits-nhtsi'mit. hat'y MAtsihkiuwi's, -y i'hina2! ta'2-nakah aw,-ihPii'hi yen ahki md'2sik?' 'M'Ah, kk&s-p~'Anahe'mit kit6'hkaneh?' IAdAh!I 'ktiiti'mih ahpii'kit~k.! i- - Ats yii'hpits pfI'hkwaAhkamikj'hsinuk m~nj'hsAkd'hsiAk!' MI', iniwi'n keh di'sikapuwwi'tua? aki'knh. haMd'w, pi&ts-mi-pyAta't innh, hed'w, iniwi'n keh s ita'hkihsi'hkua2. M'w, iniwi'n-pik teA mayi'Aknna'tua? hdi'nnwv. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 415 a little while, he came up, breaking the ice as he emerged. Then he struck him again, and again pushed him into the water. Soon he came up again, breaking the ice; then the other again pushed him down under the water. After a short time once more he made a small break in the ice, but the other again pushed him under. So now he had killed him; he did not come back. Then he went to where his brothers were. And then he said, "Hey, Matsihkiwis, the sky is falling!" Dear me, Matsihkiwis sat reeling; he was barely conscious. "Hey, Matsihkiwis, the sky is falling!" "Hoho!" said Matsihkiwis, running out from the place; "Why, weren't we muskrat-hunting?" he said. Then the man who had slain that brother-in-law, said to him, "Come, it is time for us to go home!" Then when they had got home, they told their sister, "Make some moccasins; we shall flee!" they told their sister. So then she made moccasins. When she had made them all, then said Matsihkiwis, "Now, then my brother and sister, in four days we may expect him to appear. Now, straight over in this direction dwell our grandfathers; that is where we shall go. - Put your bone-awl into your bag," he told his sister, and she put her bone-awl into her bag. "And put a honing-stone into your bag." "There, I have done so!" "Well then, it is time that we start!" So then they started forth, in flight, going to theirgrandfathers. "Come, walk fast, walk fast, walk fast!" they told their sister. So then they ran on. And truly, on the fourth day, at noon, "Now is when they will overtake us," said Matsihkiwis. On the next day, at noon-time, suddenly came the sound of his voice. "Hey, Matsihkiwis, wait for me! Whither will you flee from me, as large as is the earth?" "Dear me, did you take along your bone-awl?" "Yes!" "Throw it to the ground behind you! - Let thorn-apple bushes lie all across the land!" Oh, then in that very way stood those bushes. Then, when those beings reached that place, there they were stopped by the close woody growth. Then, nevertheless, they set about clearing the bushes with their hands. 416 416Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini'win a't inn/b MAtsi'hkiwi8, dn&'tsin anuk uk6'2simuw&'wan: uxvd'pah nei'wahkilk ini2-pih misi'k a-Jnts-Ata'Mind'Ihkua2.' ina'win;.'ki'hki~tah!' a'ta2, wdip~'wAkin. ta'?, akum a-pit8-mehlk~w&'kusi'wVAkin. wvay&' - pah naydi'wahkikc, iniwi'n misik pis-uhtsi'mit. lh~Ay MAt-sihkiwi's, pa-ip'hina2! ta'2-nakah ts8i' nap a'w-ihpii'hi yen, ahki md'2s3ik?' 'hd'h, ap&'hpenisiWA'k, nehW?'! kkis-p~'hnaha2? sii//&hkwa?'sen?' lhdAh!l 'kitfiti'mih ahp&'kisinf" naha'w, pa'kina'tsin. 'kAts yii'hpit8 pi4'hkwahkamiUc'hsin ha'28en!' ~wd'hin. hAdW, ini'2 teh inim-pyAt'tua? s a-wd'Ipakandma'tua2, pi'kwaha'tua2. iniwi'n ni misik inim-in&'tsin anuh Uhsj'MehsAn: 'wad'pah nd'wahkik ini'2 as ta-misik-ataminah. ini2-pih teh winah Iud'nuw a-pyAxftd'yah kimei'hsumin. ini'-pih a-tdipi'puma'kihtua2; ini'2 teh awinim-indi'tua2 kim6Vh85Md'hsinaWAk: I~Ay nima'hsoma'hSAk, awc'tuk nipits-sdi'kihik!" kinaw-inei'wAk,' indi'win aninuh 6k6'2simawan. wayii'pah nayd-Wahkcik kd'2tin iniwi'n sa?ydi'h naydwei'tua2 ani'nuh umnd'hs~mdi'hsuwawan pa-pim6'hnenit, mamiyd'hkiAtitua2 akikuh ke~ts-ind'niwVAk. sa~ydi'h iniwi'n misik as pis-ati'mihtua2. hAy, MAtsilhkiwi'8, pdpi'hina9! Ia'2-nakah tsi' nap awv-ihpa'hi yen ha'ni2, nuh &'nuw mit4'mul& d'ni-py~\td'tua?, -h~Ah,nimd"'hs~mdi'hsAk, aw.di'tuk nipits-s4'kihik!' uw&'wakhtd?. s3a~yd'h misik, 'I&Vy, nimehs65'2, auki'tuk wehd~'h nipits-sd'kihik!' tsa?y'i'h hed'nau ni-p yAta'wAkin; sa~ydi'h umewvi'n-pih niwv aki'kuh. lh~ nime'4s62, awdi'tuk wehdt'h nis~i'kihik!' hd'w, iniwin keh h naldi'2tatua2 akih ke~ts-inii'niwVAk. 'kAn Wi'YAI u,'MAs awd'tuk, nO'hsiA5Lt'A5Ak!' sa~yd'h a-pits-tdi'pakan&'mih ind'2tewin MAtsi'Akiwts; iniwvi'n-pih payii'hkiskAt inuh a'2sen, pi'htiketua2. kay&s-pi'Atiketua2?, -iniwi'npih kdpii'Akuskak. niMA's niw pihtike't'ua2, iniwvin as nfI'htaki'Aneh utd'kas innh ni'kut. inAts'2-ke~ts-ind'niw-k,4 sa'kite'nin! kWspin k~An sa'itnatn2 nina-pi'kwahan y6 kitdisku'ahtem!' ta'?~, kawi'n. Ahi'w, iniwi'n-pih wayd'pakandi'htahkua2 tci'-pi'kuha'-,hkua2 inih sktt'ahtem. na'tiwd'AikewVAk aki'kuh, n~'s-ke~ts-indh'niw. ta'2. aki'kuh Ana'muk sA'kite'nin.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 417 Then said Matsihkiwis, addressing their sister, "Tomorrow at noon, again they will overtake us," he told her; "Run fast!" Indeed, they ran. All bloody those beings appeared. On thnext day, at noon, again he came calling out. "Hey, Matsihkiwis, wait for me! Whither do you suppose you will flee from me, as large as is the earth?" "Alas, Sister! Did you take along the honing-stone?" "Yes!" "Throw it down behind you!" And she threw it. "Let a rock lie all across the land!" he said. Then they reached that place and began to pound it, so as to break it to splinters. Then again, as they ran, he told his sister, "Tomorrow at noon he will again overtake us. But then we shall be reaching our grandfathers. We shall be within sight of them; then, as you run, you will say to our grandfathers, 'Oh, Grandfathers, a spirit is driving me hither in terror!"' he told his sister. On the next day at noon it was true that they saw their grandfathers walking this way and that, walking to meet each other, those old men. And then again they were being overtaken. "Hey, Matsihkiwis, await me! Whither can you flee from me, wide as is the world?" he called to him as he approached. "Oh, sister, run!" So of course, in vain, as they came there, that woman, "Oh, Grandfathers, a spirit is driving me hither in fright!" They paid no attention. Then again, "Oh, Grandfather, truly, a spirit is driving me hither in fright!" They were arriving, to be sure, but now only so far off were those beings. "Oh, Grandfather, a spirit truly is driving me hither in fright!" Then at last did those old men stop. "There is no spirit here, Grandchildren!" And now things had come to where Matsihkiwis was almost within reach of a blow; then that rock opened and they went in. When they had gone in, it closed solidly. Hardly had they entered, when crashing came down the war-club of that one creature. "Evil old men, put them out! If you do not put them out, I shall burst this door of yours to bits!" But no. So then they began to pound the door so as to splinter it. Then, after a while, one of those old men, "Fie, those creatures are making a most unpleasant noise, my fellow-oldster. Do let out the dogs!" 27 418 418Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI iniwin-p'ih payii'hklina'tua2. hdIA. iniwi'n -s kitsitdIisilcitua9 kinil'pikuic, MAMa'I-kiniu'pikulk. 'awjk-ne~nd'hkvun ak-um kayti'?ts-miliAn~itiid'hiketua2!' iniwi'n-pih waydi'2nunah sku'ahtem md'nawats. hii'w, iniwi'n teh wdih-Ikitsi'?tatua2 akuh kinii'pikuk. mrndn'WAkin, sei'kisi'tua?. h&d'w, aki'ku~h Ct'nuw As kit'2tanit, pahp1i'hkipunii'tua2, Iud'w, siwas taniwdi'kisiwVAkin as ts8i-mikandi'tua?, pahPei'hkipunii'tua2. h&"?, mdind'WAkin aki'kuh inii'pikuk. ni'k6'tds niw ayd.'wik, iniwi'n s pIninwdi'kis8itua2. nawvjned'Isihsih iniwi'n-pih 8ayii'kisitua2, ts~T'2 -napumdi'tua?. m6'sah uhkdi'nan 1cWwa~te'wanin, mci'qwa ni ni s kitiiinu'atua?. h&'w, ii'2 kelh s kUs-ne~na'tua2. h&'w, ini?-pi& rnisi'k, 'awj' h-rn 'mnina 'nehkun ahkj' 'w imi's as, W~skikeh!' indi'WAkin alcikuk kinii'pi ku/c. ta'2, iniwi'n keh MdtsyA'tna2 s awd&-pakin&'tua? inis' ahkj'w as, tsi-kWskikeh. ini'2 keh s kiwdt'tua?, pyA'tua? mnis wj'k~wa?. Cnahd'w, ini'2 lceh, nuhsihsdi'h8Ak! kAn Wi'yAk UMAs awd'tulk vter'winan. nina'2 nisi'k niw awd'tukAk aya'wiyah.' iko'Ikin; 'nah'i'w, yo's teh ni'wukun kin-nawdts-i'rnUA?. naw&'ts.' irniwi'n keh s diyi'tua? ni'wvukun. nlayi'wuku,'nakah, 'nahd'wv. ni'hsihsii'hsAl. kAtd.'8 k#.u'li'kun: isi' - Akun as kNs-5h-pi'ydk.' a'?, ini'? keh s k#js-kiwvj'tva?. ini'?. 103. THE RED SWAN. (naydi'ht~w) lkin6'htem d'wiwin w*Z'k~waw; mita'tahsiWA'kin ind'niwAk. nikutinj'/& teh d'wiwAkin; rnmii'w uh8e'mehso6wa'wAn, apdhni'hseh. inii'win teth ki-nfi'tiket, pahpi'8itua?. inuh mah-rna'waw u~nd'"matuw kawin wi'y~xn umd'tirn6'hsemnuuwd'wan:, Ic-Ani mo-sapa'WAk a'wiwAk. nilc~ta'8 8 pahpi'situa2, nuh apdhni'hseh, - nipe'hseh d'wiwin inih nipZ'w kiw-i8-nd'tikua?, -nayii'tilk in~uh apdihni'I~eh; kutd'?s mehku'akami win inih nipZ'hseh. pa yi'At at si'timih, n6'?s~h (ina'pit, rniw-akI&'htsinin wdi'piftiw; p6'ts rnehk6nin. ini'2 tdih wdh-isinii'Iwah inih, inil& nipe'hfeh. 1kjwd'pahtukc, umd'2tikwAn, MAtdpe'pahtukl, ~pi'pimu'atsin, w&'-,wahtd'? kiw-iniiki'htsinunin. hd'w, anuh uOna'hIbs &'nehkAn nikii'tamunin w6'puwa'wan. ihpih nd'tsipa'htutah, pipimu'atsin, k5'9sik iniwin md'wvaw $ md'?tahanit vu?n&'h8An w~'puwa'wan. ini'win-pih tsi-rnehkdwd'nihtah, miimd'waw u?nd'hs~wa'wan upz'htsilkunii'htihih ini'? as -tsiw-a'?tikin ni's. pingputu'k inih pg'ht-si 1 Fist of right hand clapped into open palmi of left. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 419 Then they uncovered them. Out crawled some serpents, huge serpents. "Go kill those creatures that are making that unpleasant noise!" Then he opened that door a wee bit. That was where those serpents glided out. There were many of them as they went out. Now those beings, as the serpents came forth, in vain they kept tearing them to pieces. A great din they did make, fighting them and tearing them to pieces. But great was the number of those serpents! The time came when their noise ceased. After a bit they went out to look at them. Only bones lay here and there, they had devoured them all. So now they had slain them. And then again, "Go vomit them forth over yonder at the headlong edge of the earth!" those serpents were told. So then off they went to throw them away there at the edge of the earth. Then they came back to the dwelling there. "So there, Grandchildren! There is no spirit here. 'Tis only we are spirit-beings," they were told by them; "Now then, four days, first, shall you stay here, for the present." So they stayed there for four days. On the fourth day, "Now then, Grandchildren, it is time for you to go home; go to the place whence you came." So then they went home. That is all. 103. THE RED SWAN. (Nayahtow) A long-lodge was their dwelling; the men were ten in number. And there were eleven people; for there was a boy, too, younger than all the others. He kept the house when the others were hunting. The oldest of the brothers was always the first to return from the hunt, as one after the other they returned. They had no wives; they were as yet bachelors. Once upon a time, when they were out hunting, the boy was fetching water, - a lake was the place where they got their water, - then, strangely, red was the water of that lake. When he reached the shore and looked out upon the water, there floated a swan; it was entirely red. That was the cause of the lake appearing that way. He ran home, got his bow, ran back to the lake, and shot at it, more than once, but it swam about the water undisturbed. His older brothers had left some of their arrows. He ran and fetched them, and kept shooting at it; until at last he had shot away all of his older brothers' arrows. Then he remembered that in the oldest brother's medicinebundle lay two more. He pulled down that medicine-bundle, ran 27* 420 420Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kundIb, ind'wimit, pehlc6'nah inik p~'htsikundh, pmim-si'sla~tulk, nisu'ahtik siwa8 a?te'wanin. ini2-pih misi'k tsiw-o'Ic. nilcut ayd'tslkWAt pamu'atsin, ini2 tsi-misu'at,8in. pmi'm-uhp~'?tawin inuk wii'pisiW. sikas ni'w, iIhpih inim-alk6'tinin aydi'pehtawd'htik; iniwi'npih inim-iWe'net, ini'win niw, isind'kusitua2 me~ti'IkuAk. inli2 tsiw-is-kdahtsV~net, PimE'nisiha'tsin. kayj'8-nflk, iniwin-pih mini'lkdn1 payi'Atdt. ndnE'puwit, mdiydkdc'pamih, Ikuta'2nag iniwi'n wtih-nat6'mih. payi'htiket. kay~s-ahsei'mih, iniwi'n niw as uskdi'hki'wet. ndpa'tu~a2, inilh-pih k6'tsimundi'tin: 0t'?-pih kay~s-pim~'net wapisiw?' 'ti'kahkyah a'lkutsi&h.' 'inu'? pa'mini'sihak.' h&', nitd'wats-uma'nakcah-si8-WA'sk~m. inuh u?nd'hsimaw payi'At, kawin w~'yAn uhs~mehsmn. nditwdmii'tsin, kawi'n w~'yAk. ini?-pih tsi-matapyA'hnet; payyA'tt W~temih, upi'1&tsiikumdh siwas Wsk'la?te'win. n6'2suh dind'pit, ti'paki'htewa'nin wj'puwawan. Pis-Ulcwdt, ini? s di'yapit; h tsi-ni-ylih-pi'Atua2, ini'win s wj'htam~wi'ti'rn uhsemehs~n.,hA y, ka'k64 is~kiw kehs'min; nipZ'htsikund'h sitemih ini? Stsi-kijs-pehk6'na~h; ydi'4pits tdpaki'htewan, anu W~pina'wan.' Iudiw, inum apdhni'hseh ini? wAya'pah tsi-Ma't,8iAt, misi'k pime'nisil&&'tsin ani'nuh. saka'nah nayi'k, iniwi'n-pih misi'k s ini'mnipdit. iniwi'n misi'k as w.j'kimiwdt. inih-pih k6'tsimun&'tsin: 'td'?-pih -ikay~'s-pim~'?net?' - 'ayd'p'ehtawii'h~tik &'kutsih 1cWs5.' wayii'pah ini'win misik as tsi-Md'ts8iAt. metdi'tahninuh kUs-ininipc''win; ini? ni td'h niw ahpdi'n niw s ni-Uskd'hkiwet. hIu~, nikut-Eng'h ni? tahnd'nuh kayej's-ini-wj'wit. Md'w, misik mi'p mayii'tsiAt, saka'nah nay&'wahkik, kAni'win niw wgflcWAMf~'heh 4' 2tik. ndn~'puwit isku'ahtemil&, iniwin h tsi-pii'hkiskAk inih kipd'hteh: 'h/', nuhsi'h, pihtike'nun!' payi'htiket: '4su'akaim ap~'nun, nuhsi'h!' pd'mi-albsd~'mikut undlkd'hsihsih, sjw4'piminak, nih d'miskwAn, kawin na'p pas ut#!'pini'nan; iniwin niw nilk6'tunuh as kAti-1k4'8kahatsin anuh wii'pimi'nan. kayu'apahats8in, ini? ni m4'waw. kayj8 -ku'apanemd'tsin, iniwi'n niw misik d'htaI,8i'tua2 aki'lcuh. ni'? kah s tasj'kit, pi'htetsit4'pinit; iniwi'n s ka'skahatsin tdh winah kA'niW. kayZ8-mi'tsihsit, 'nah4'w,. nuhsi'h, kilc4'tew-an65'nin. A~-UMA'8, umAs ni' ke?tsih, y5'? as tasi'ahkameh y5 nZ'8; kAn wi'nah y6'w ninah 1 "au4'? Meh" asks one of the hearers: "Who does?" In faster speech use of the obviative might have helped to keep the boy and the swan apart. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 421 back, untied the bundle, and spread it open; there lay two arrows. Then he used these also. When he shot at it with the last one, he hit the swan. The swan flew up. It rose to about half the height of the trees; then it flew on that level, as is the outward appearance of trees. Then the boy started to run in pursuit of it. After sunset he reached a town. He stood there; he was looked upon as a strange being, and then he was called into a place there. When he entered, after he had been entertained with food, he took a woman to wife. When they had gone to bed, and he asked her, "When did a swan fly by " - "When the sun hung low over the land." "That is the one I am pursuing." Now I must go back a while to the other place. When the oldest brother came, his little brother was gone. He called him, but there was no answer. Then he went down to the water; when he came to the shore, there lay his medicine-bag unfolded. When he looked out upon the water, their arrows were floating on the surface. He went back to the lodge and sat there; as they came home, one after the other, he told his brothers what had occurred. "Something has happened to our brother; it seems he has unfolded my medicine-bundle by the water's edge; our arrows are drifting far out upon the water." Now, as for that boy, on the next morning he set out, continuing his pursuit of that creature. When the sun had nearly set, again he stopped for the night. Again he took a wife. When he asked her, "At what time did it fly past?" - "When the sun was at half a tree's height." The next morning he set out again. Ten times he slept on the way; and every time he took a wife. Now, when for the eleventh time he had married on the way, then, having again set out at early morn, toward noon, there stood a small tepee. As he stood by the entry, the door-flap was moved aside, "Oh, Grandson, come in!" When he had entered, "Be seated across the lodge, Grandson!" When he was given food in a tiny bowl, sweet corn in the grain, and a spoon, it was such that he could not possibly get his fill; at one scrape he would take all that Indian corn. When he had taken a spoonful, that was all of it. But when he had taken that spoonful into his mouth, there was again the same amount of corn. So there he was busy with it, and ate a hearty fill; but in time he did after all finish the Indian corn. When he had eaten, "Now, Grandson, I want you to do something for me. Out here, close by, my head is being abused; for this thing 4 2 2 422Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ne's a'WiWAn; nikes-wayd'sih'kuk; nkis-ki'slkikiyawci'hi1kuk. jni'2 tdh kd'tiw-ano'ninAn; mdi'wa niw ni? as a'nawd'hisit. nahii'w, leine'2 tdh mdi'hkawe'nimi'nan; ini'2 wiI& s kj-s-an5'nak ayu'rn nitti'htanum.' mAahkii'h ini's a~te'win; iniwin us pd'hkinah; siwas8 sehkj'hsinin inuh wd'pis8iw. 'nalud'w, mnat8Z'?-wi yAk a'wiw; kin6'htem d.'wiw inih wtj'k. ni? tah nii'wi yaw ini2 s di'nitsi'nihsih. nu? tdh ndi'tawd'pahts8ikdt ka'k,5h -s a-pimd.'?neh. nahd'w, ayaku'Amisinu'n ft'h! yii'h~pih ni IeAta'w,medtsi' yen, umdi'2 ni ke~tsi'h as a,'wik,.' 'kuhkg'w &'sawd'hkyah, ini'2 tdh, ini'? as8 tas6i'ahlcahkua2 nih ne's, malc-nis-wdpipi'hahlkua2. pj'2simik d'WiWAn nuh ng'ne~nArn. UMA's tdh s wdpdipi'ahkwah kikii'sihsinuk pj'2s'Iimikuk.' iniwin-pih mayd'tsiAt inuh apdhni'hseh. pyA'tat, d? kd'h teh kiru5'htem. hci'w, iniwi'n-pih di'ts, `ni's-inuh s ahs4'hkAt yum upZ'wand'skin!' iniwi'n tdh wawZ'yAwit. hJ', n~'2-pih tsiW-ispxd'hkAt. 'nahd'w, kA'n tdh kina-nd'winan!' ini'2-pih sinawdi'2 niw tsi-matsi'slkAt. tipd'h sa~yd'h ini's inipimd'2sit, ini?-pih tsi-ni'Akut. 'sj'h, wd'ki2 y6'w pdi'me~neh?' 'he', nini'Akusah!' iniwin-pih ayd'h-isiVtAt; icAn teh nilc6'tunul& s ahsa'hkat inuh upeZ'waned's8in, mni? teh tsiw-awa'tsin. ha', ini2-pih niw ts3iw-%'8pd-'28it Misi'k-. n&'wjyaw payi'Atdtt, kawin Uni'Akunan. &s8a'w imis kayes-8 jA'wihsih, d'sawvd'hkyah kiw-5hflpiwd'katin. tsiw-ini'-kit6'hnet, hi', kd'2tin iniwin s ki'-wdipdpi'ahkwah ini's; kikd'sihsinukin p~'?8imikuk. chat, ta'? teh aw-is~?ta yen? nahdi'w, andm6'hseh ninaw-ii'wirn; ninaw-ond'sim.' 'hJ', niMA'tAk, inuh n6'h aw-atmdm'tsin, mnu? aw-uti'hsehsit!' iniwin tdh as ni-tsi-y~h-wd'kipd'htuk, pi8-kuhpj'pahtuk, payi'Atdit inih mg's, pahk4'sah. kays-fpi'manit, pi8-ispdi'?sit misik, kawi'n uni 'Akunan. kayjs-Mi8-pdi'wihsih, Ma'tiAt umd?'h85mu''h8AnI. payi'htiket: 'hi'kay~s-kitdi'nah ind'8in~am6wa'win. '6Ah, wdwdi'nin! wehtsita'w Ah ne?sWAnd'tsi~taWAk. kapa'? y6'Im si~ina'kWAtun! mdi'wa niw pe-'?simik diwi'Apah! ahM', nuhs'h, wa'pak kinaw-k.Wwdm.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 423 here is not really my head; they got the better of me by guile; they chopped off my head. And this is what I want to ask of you; everyone has failed at it. I thought of you; that is why I sent out this pet of mine." A chest stood there; he opened it; there lay that swan. "Now, he is a powerful being; a long-lodge is his house. In the middle of it he lies on his back. It is he who watches for anything that may fly by. And be on your guard! If you want to go at once, it is right close by." "Very well!" he answered him. "Farther on, at the other side of the hill, that is where they are abusing my head, laying the strands from that place on. Of china-beads is my hair. From there where the strands begin, the wampum-beads lie strung." Then the lad went forth. When he came to the place, there indeed was a long-lodge. Then he said, "Twice the length of a fibre of plant-down!" And such then was his body. Then he rose into the air. "Now then, you shall not see me!" Then, noiselessly he began to drift. When he was being wafted right above, the other caught sight of him. "Fie, what is this floating by?" "Oho, he does see me after all!" Then he did it all over again; not even the full length of a fibre of plant-down he used. Then again he went up in the wind. When he reached the center of the house, the other did not see him. When he had descended to the ground beyond, at the far side of the hill the place resounded with whooping. He walked forth, and truly from there the strands lay strung; the wampum-beads lay threaded. "Now, how am I to do? Very well, I shall be a little dog; I shall be handsome." When he had run a ways, making for one side of the place, one of them saw him. "Ho, Brothers, the one who catches him shall have him for his pet!" "Good!" came the answer, and he was pursued and ran with all his might. Then he ran roundabout from there, and back again, up the hill, and, reaching the head, cut it free. Wrapping it in the bosom-fold of his garment, he flew up again, and they did not see him. When he had alighted yonder, going to his grandfather, and had entered the lodge, "How now, my grandson? Do you bring it?" "Indeed, I do!" He drew it forth and handed it to him. "Oh, thank you! But truly, they have made a mess of it. It did not use to look like this! It was all of china-beads! Very well, Grandson, tomorrow you shall go home." 424 4Q4Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII waydi'pah, kayZs-MVt~ihsit, w~h-~pa'hkinamin ni/& mahkii'h; NOknii'win anuh uta'htanuman. siw us6'namun isena'lkwiwin. 'nahdi'w, nuhsi'h, a/ku' 2 kd'ti-tipii'hunan. rnit&'tah niku't-in#Z'h Icina-mama'WAk. ke~na'hSAlk pi'htsilkun&'htihih aw-a~ne'WAk.' lea yZ,-mZ'nileut mitdJ'tah nikut-inZ'h, iniwin-p'ih pis-mii'tsi At. aya'tslewAt 5 les-pis-npdi'2tawa'tsin, iniwin s pi's-nipdit. wayd'pah iniwin pis-nana'tsin aninuh mitli'muhsAn. tahnd'nuh leayes-ni'nipat, iniwin teh tahnei'nuh pis-nip&'t; iniwin teh winah ahpd'n niW pis-nawii'tina'tsin mitii'muh8An. iniwi'n tahrn''nuh pi8-mi'kit nileut anuh me~'kunan. W'1e'ne2 lea'kech aw-ind'nawimdw.' iniwi'n-pih teh pis-awdnti'tsin rnd'wa niw aninuh mitd'MUh8A~n, mehkawd'nimatsin 62nii'h8An. pay yA'tat wj'kNwa?, ta"?, leawi'n Wi' yAle. aninuh uOnd'hs~n mah-mii'waw iniwi'n-pih 4n6'ham~wa'tsin ani'nuh. 'M'w, y6"? leitd'htAn! md'wa niw iniwin as nim-aOna'tsin, inim-uta'htani'tua? kuh ina'niuAle; inuh aya'tslewAt niw nim-nipd'2tawatssn aninuh teh wi'nah ap. Md' teh inuh MAtsi'hleiWi8, inu"? ni'2tAm kei'-jnAt pahpi'situa2. ta"?, leis-an~nei'win kejsi'ts s aw-ini-tsifri'hleitua2. Md'ta?, ayum mat~'i'hkeiwis pis-tdp&'pahbtah wZ'ke~waw, h&', nd'2tewin. 'VW~, mdtsi' tek pas pimii'tesi? nelhsZ'mehsinaw?' pd'keitii'2sit aleu'atsih, pi'htileet, Md'w, UhS9'Meh8An y6'8 apj'wAnin. ta"?, misd'hleatewa'win. ~h nehsj'2, likipm&'tesi'misah! ta'? kd'taw-isZ'keiyen?' nim-ahpi'ts-pyA'tua'? ina/niwAle, iniwin niw leiw-uk'ti'tah, 'hZAy, leeh~j'mehsnaw kis-pi'w!' s salke'nelhtsine'Mih. 62nd'hs~n. 'ha', mi"i? leih!' ha'w, nile~td's as d'wile, ni'? tsi-md'nawinawa'tsin nuh uhsWmehs6wa'wan UMd'teM6'hseMAn inuh u'?nii'hsimaw. ha'w, nile6'tas isdl& ka'le~h tsiw-in/i'nilhtah, lej'litutawa'tsin we'matAn, waya'pinesiha'Aeua'?, M'~w, leut4'2nas imi's, 'nahid'w, neksi'meh8Ale, y6"? ninah ana'nilbtAmAn. nina'h WAd nikea'?ts-m6'?nawinawdw leehs~mehsinaw umdi'teme3'hseman. nah&'w, uma/2 teh awisj"?tayah; leinaw-an~n6'nawale aleuh limd'tem,6'hseminawAle as 6-ihtuleua'?, nahdI'W, ini"?-pih tah aw-~ni'leihua? le&'hkupind.'kan 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 425 On the next day, when he had eaten, he went and opened that chest; he took out his pet. Like bright vermilion it looked. "Now then, Grandson, with these I shall repay you. Eleven feathers you shall take. Your brothers shall place them in their medicine-bundles." When that person had given him eleven, he set out on the hither way. Where he had last spent the night with the people, there he now stayed for the night. In the morning he took along the woman. In as many places as he had slept on the way out, he now spent the night on the homeward way; and each time he took along the woman. And each time he gave away one of those feathers. "Your father will have some use for it." So then he brought along all those women, taking thought for his brothers. When he reached their lodge, no one was there. "Of course, they are hunting!" Then to the oldest of his brothers he assigned that one. "There, this is your couch!" That was where he placed them all, one by one, where each of those men had his settee; and the one he had slept with the last, her he took for himself. Now, the oldest of the brothers, he it was who always came first from the hunt. Now, the lad had ordered the women to cook beforehand. So now, when the oldest brother came within sight of the lodge, there was smoke. "Why, can it be that our brother lives?" When he had laid down his game outside the door, and entered, there sat his young brother. He had been engaged in the pubertyfast. "Oh, Little Brother, and so you are alive! What kind of thing is happening to you?" As those men came one after another, each time he would call out, "Hey, our little brother has come!" and they would shake the lad by the hand. There were the women; when they looked over this way, he had brought women to his brothers. "Oh, good!" Then, after a time the oldest brother took a fancy to the youngest brother's wife. So then, at one time he must have thought out a ruse; he spoke to his brothers; when they had started on the chase, somewhere out yonder, "Now, Brothers, this is my thought. As for me, I have taken a great fancy to our brother's wife. Now, here is what we shall do; you will tell your wives, when they gather basswood bark, to make a long cord. When they have finished making it, we shall tell them to make a basket besides. Then we shall bid our brother 426 426Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII isik8 aw-u8V'htukua2. lki8-kVi'ihtU'kua2. h&'iv, ini2-p'i'h tiih auw,inii'k-ib kehsi'min winah na'2tam as a-tdtWe'naPuma'tsin mama'isi?tawan. kinaw-awj'h-usZ7htu2. kj~s-kj'8ihtawah, ini? telb 8 awjlh'sake~pitawah y6'rn. nahe~i'w,. wind'? teh n4'2tam kehsb'rin a-tdtsj'2 -napumd'tsin. kj8-p6'8it, ihpih me~si'h kiilts8wd'p'inamah inih, UMA'S tdh 1c8-Wdi'pipisit, ini2-pih a-pdhkdi'8amah. nah&'w, nu'h teh niw a-pa yd'8iWet, ay6'2 a-iW'kimatsin umd'tim5'Iseman kehs~min.' ~8jAh hd' ni?, MAtsi'hkiwi's? hdnm" rn i'n niwr kipttU'Akunaw, pdp~ht6'?s tdh td'w-ihpd'nanat! ''.nehsi'rnehs8Ak. U?nd'hsimawt nihb ni' kitw-itdWii'.i' 9 kiw7-i8Z' - kimakah!' ini? kAniW 8 wd'pinisihd'hkua?. hd'ta?, nd'hkah payyA'tya? md'wa niw, isd'h tsi-Ici'kitit: 'nahd'w, ndhsi'meh8Ak, kimd'tem6'hseminaWAk pas wvJ'kuPd'hkcitu~a2; mdtsu~nd'hutew-kd'hkap aw-usZ'htaWAkc. hd', ini?-pih misik kd'hkupiniikan. MI' ini?-pih tdh kehs.~min, ta'?, wind'? Odh nd'2tam a-tdWt&'?napu~md'tsin mamd'tsi?tawan.- k-Aniw tdh k.3-pi'Apisit, ni?-[pik i'8it nd7'nikut a-tdts'?naPumaki'htua? mamnd'tsi~taWAk.' 'Md'w"P ina-'win. ta?, A'w, wi'kupd'hkitua? mitd'muhstdc. wayd'pah, ta?. wd' pals niw kW'ihta'WAkin. 'hd'w, u'i'pah awj'h-us~'tuh 6h-wd'pipisit kehs~min.~ nd'AkaA -ndpd'tua?, iniwi'n-pih way~'htam~wd'ts8in nuh md'tem6'hseman: 'nahd'w, wd'pah nine'? nd'?tAm ldi'ti-y6k-wd'pinitua?. kj8-tdh-wd'pi pi'3i yen, ni?-p'ih tdA kd'ti-pahkd'8albkua? nih. ini'? teh ni'nah s nipd'yen. kind'? tah kd'taw-uhtsi'hitua?. kis-pakld'8itua? i'mis, ni? au'-i'tdh ayo ne?nd'hsinaw: "Aahd'wv", aw-ejwi'h. "nuk ni'w a-pa yd'siwet, nvu'9 a-wj'kima'tsin 1kehs~min famd'tem6'hsemAn." nahd'w, MAskisq-mdtsi'yah, nihb-pih ni'W WdWe'pi?tAkun s3 a-rndtsi'ydk. kaye8-piS-Uhta'ninAkuk ini'skkiwa'MUAW.' ini'win ds-kaki'hkima'Iin. wayd'pah kay&s-mi't,8sihsiua?, 'haMd'w! P wd'kin, wdpii'wani'tit-ua? $ mdtS yA'tua?. payyAta'tu~a?, 'h&', nehsZ'?, kinah na'?tam ItitsZ'?napumin mamii'tsi?tawAk!' kayj8-WdPd'wanetitu~a? akum ind'niwAk,. kumb milts'muhSAk wd.wj'pi?ta'wtAkin s usi'?Iatua, kiwd'pal&Iukua? kaygs-pis-uhtd'nikutu~a?. 'hd'w, lh~? kAtd's8p6'sinun!' ind' win. umd'?tikWAn kikeh p6'8iwin,1 tsiw-5h-wd'piniI&, kd'htswd'pinameh inih kd'hkupind'kan payi'Asit. 8ika'8 niw d'hPihtsipi'Sit., iwinim tsi-pahkd'sqamel&. hpdn dWtin ni kd'hkinah. 'Right fist clapped into left palm. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 427 be the first to look at the world from up aloft. We shall go prepare it. When we have made it, we shall tie it up. Our brother will be the first to go up. When he has ascended, and when we have pushed it into full motion and he is swinging with speed, then we shall cut it loose. And then he who outruns the others, he shall wed our brother's wife." "Fie, how is it with you, Oldest Brother? Even though he brought them to us, you plan to deal destruction to him!" "Now, Brothers, whatever thing an oldest brother says, that always is done!" "Oh, very well!" he was answered. Then they went on with the hunt. Then, in the evening, when all had returned, he spoke by way of ruse, "Now, Brothers, let our wives gather basswood bark; they shall make a long cord for a swing. And then, a basket. And then our youngest brother, let him be the first to look at the world from up aloft. Then, when he has come back from his flight, then, turn by turn, we shall each go up and see the world." "Very well!" he was told. So the women on the next day gathered basswood bark and soon made it. "Very well, tomorrow the thing shall be made out yonder, for our brother to swing from." That night, when all slept, he told his wife, "Now then, tomorrow they intend to swing me first. But when Iam swinging with speed, they mean to cut the thing off. Then I shall be killed. It ison your account that they mean to do thus with me. When they have cut me loose there, then this is what our oldest brother will say, 'Very well,' he will say, 'whoever outruns the rest, he shall wed our brother's wife.' Therefore, as soon as we have set out, do you all make haste and depart. To the places from which I brought you do you return." Thus he instructed her. On the next day, when they had eaten, "CQme!" they said, and set out in single file. He took his bow and went. When they came to the place, "Now, Brother, do you first go up and see the world!" When the men had marched off, the women hurriedly made ready and ran home whence he had got them. "Now, Brother, do you get in!" he was told. Bow in hand, he got in, and was flung forth, as they pushed with a fling that basket in which he was. When he had sped a certain ways, they cut it. It was the last he knew. 428 428Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII.ahd', nehsi'meh8Ak, inu'h niwv a-pay& 'siwet, jnu'2 a-we'kicma'tsin kehs,'min umdi'tem57hseman!' Idihtsi'2netua2, matsihlci'wis ts-payd'siwet, pi'htike'pahtuk, kitwin nap nikut uti'nan. p6'hkuh iniwin 8J'kis8i'pahtuk, ki'A~tepa'ht utah inih w~'kiWAM. h&5', wiini'n62 a-ndtwd'tsin? kAn Wi' yAn. 'hi,' nehsi'MehAk, kikd'timah6'naw kehs~'min!' 104. THE ROLLING SKULL. (MAs8kwawdtnalhkWAt3k) nahitw, minVicWn ni2 as a'2tik, MAMi'ttsitawAk s wi'kitua2; na'w$ yAw ii'? as wZ'kit vkZ'maw. utitnan titwAn. nik~t4's8aydtwik, mi't? as m&'wat~iMd'ts8in inuh u~cv'miw utd'nan ki?8Z'hsAn. kute'2nas as Wiyapitua2, ini'win dinittsin anuh Icisg'Asn inuk ukimii'khkiw: 'ni'nah keh wi'nah ini'? dndi'nihtAmaAn as kAta'wpapd'm-nd'man y6'm ah~cw ta? tsiw-ityisinitkwah.' 'nahitw, kina-wttsiAn,' ejwd'hin inuh niku't. sa?ye'h misi'k ni/cut: 'nina'h ap niw kiLnaw-wittStAn.' iniwi'n niw ma waw ittua? akuh ne?niwl ki?W~hSAkc. ~nahitw, kjm5'ts ni kinaw-mittsia?; wit pah kina-witpi?ta s3 awUsW?tayah; ki~m5"ts kinaw-us~'?ta?. kutii'?nas kinaw-aw9'h-a0?t Icitdi'ninapehkunawan, kcimiithsZ'hsinawan. nis-uku'nakah ini'-pih a-miitstyah. Icimithkesi'ninawan me?si'h kinaw-awi'tt6.' jwit kin ukimft'hkiw. s3a?e'h nayi'suku'nakah, ini'?-pih tsi-M&isiAtua?. ki'seh d&'hlcwah jxpdim5'hnitua? me?tiku'ahlcihkyah, sa?e'h kay&s-anih-nitwahkik, rniwi'n-pih payiAtd'tua? MAsko'tdw. imi's adnitpitua? mind'?, mit'tswvatsZ'w ini'? as nii'mikua?. ayitpehta'w ihpih payiAtd'tua? inih MAsk6'tdw, iniwi'n kit k~h as ndtmikua? mnis WAts'wsh as wit?8a?tik. sa?yith payiAtittua? inih wAt8Z'w, iniwi'n itts inuh ukimii'hkiw: 'kAt kitd'h-tsZ'?napii'hte? wit ki? ts3iw-ii'wik inih wayit?sa?tuk.' 'ki'a?, Wi? aw-aw~h-initpahtamah?' iwithin inuh niku't. misi'k inuh niku't. ini?-p'ih tsi-kuhi'Wtua?. payiAtittua? yahpi'ts ispd'hkyah, wZ'nikAn siwas a?te'win. 'wit Ii? teh wi'nah nap y6'm tsiw-itwik?' ~within inu'h ni/cut. iniwi'n s pithpenu'tahkua?; niku,'t inuh mitmit iniwi'n as awMhsit kesit wZ'nikanih. 'p5'ni?takun!' iwtvdhin ukimii'hkiw; 'kAn-e'?&h w~'nikan it'wiw, PA5 kay6'?ts8-pii'hpenu'tameh.' ini'win keh ayi's6h as tahka'skahkua? aki'kuh ne'?niw kiPsj'hsAk inih wZ'nikan. iniwi'n-pih mayiitsyA'tua? nfi'hsimf1'hnitua?. kay&~piAta'tu~a? nill'hsimithkcyah, ini'win wj'k~waw as usi'htu/cua?. 8eh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 429 "Now, Brothers, whoever outruns the rest, he shall wed our brother's wife!" They flung themselves into a run; the oldest brother outran the rest; he ran inside the lodge, and not one was there. To the far end of the lodge and then out he ran; he ran all round the house. Whom was he to see? They were gone. "Dear me, Brothers, we have destroyed our little brother!" That is all. 104. THE ROLLING SKULL. (Maskwawanahkwatok) In a town where some people dwelt, in the center there dwelt the chief. He had a daughter. Then at one time that chief's daughter assembled some girls. Somewhere they sat; then Princess said to those girls, "As for me, I intend to go about and see what the world is like." "Very well, I shall go with you," answered one of them. Then another, "I too will go with you." All three of those girls said the like. "Well then, secretly we shall set out; tomorrow we shall begin and get ready; secretly we shall get ready. We shall go put our hatchets somewhere, and our basswood-sacks. Day after tomorrow we shall set out. We shall take along plenty of moccasins," said Princess. On the next day but one they set out. Walking all day through the woods, in the afternoon they reached an open place. When they looked before them, there they saw a high hill. When they had got halfway across the open ground, they saw something bright perched up on the hill. When they reached the hill, then Princess said, "Let us go look and see what that bright thing may be that is sitting up there." "Pshaw, what is the good of going and looking at it?" said one of them. "Why, we are going about seeing what the world may be like," said one of the others. Thereupon they climbed the hill. When they had reached the very top, there sat a skull. "Well what may this thing be?" said one of them. Then they mistreated it; one of them went and voided water right on the skull. "Stop!" said Princess. "Even if it is only a skull, it may be dangerous to mistreat it." But then those three young women kicked the skull from one to the other. Then they left that place and went back down the hill. When they had reached the foot, they built their wigwam. They 430 43() Publications. Amnerican Ethnological Society Vol. XII ki' ku~n apa-'howAlkin. iniwi'n-piI& misi'Ik lay&s-mand'/nitua2; iniwi'n-pil& pay6'awetua2. Icawin kdi'k64 isku,'alhtemn; imi'2 nisi'k leektd'nilka'miku~h ah tsi-tawdi'2tile inik wvj'lewaw. lea y#~-p5'tawetua2. iniwi'n-pik ayd'yapitua2. sga~e'k 'wvinitipa'hklah, leAni',win l4'lekth paYitiw4'knek. iniwi'npili niw saya'leisit inuk uleimft'hliw. 'kWinum kehklilednu'Anine'muAw as pii'lpen6'tamele inik we'nileAn!' lee~tsi'h pisit'wie, iniwi'n-p'ih pi8-neiki'mit inuk we'nileAn: 'ntuw rnittc'rUhsAk- nikees-ppim-pa'hpenota'leul; rn&'waw tek niwv niled'ternu'awAle, leespin leAfl lAtaW-Wt'limitua2,' iniwi'n pis —inii'hama'sit. s3a~ye'h piS-piAta'win inih we'leiWAM. 'as m6'hklahah nalea'h,' Zw&'hin inuh uleimii'hkliv. lea y&s-i'nunehah, 'h&'2 inih leitdsleu'aktem?' 'as n&'wahklil i'naleah,' indi'win uleimflit'me 'kine'? di'ninan., uleimft'hleiw! h&'? inih kitldslu'ahtent?' 'as nt/c inaleah,' ind'ivuin. gapd'i', ni'sipa'niktarnike'sirn!' iw&'hin we'nilean. iniwi'n-pil& a'spi?tAt; led'htenilea'mileuh iniwi'n pis-y6k-pi'ktiee'pitele inih uw~-'nilean; isleii'tiah siw uhpisiwi'knenin. 'naha'w,' indi'win anuhkile,2s'IhsAn ne'WtAr kaye-s-hPiienutd'ii'lu ~'nile'2simnaw lee klinaw-i' wirn.' inuh le~,sj'hsAn. iniwi' n niw rn&' wawi as lea'pamatsin. lea y&~-litiimu'atsin, sa~e'h misile ani'nuh nieu,'t: 'ta'2 tehk li'nah, mite'muh, aw/-indw.iv'mi yen?' indi'win. '6nis~h teh leinaw-d'wim.' 'wd'lki2 inik nisj'k2' ~wa'hin we'nileAn, as lentdipimii'tsin as MnUIatsin, mii'waw s keitdinw'atsin anuhk le~sj'ksAn. lea y&~-litdrnu'atsin, sa~ye'h misile niku't: 'nakhi'w mite'muk, lha'? teh lei'nah aw-inawd''mi yen?' ind'win. 'n6'Ihne2 lee klinawld'wim,' indi'win nuk kPi2&tkseh. 'wi'lei inik n6'hne2?' ind'wvin misile as lutiiptinm'tsin, rni'wawv askei'hpama'tsin. ni2 ne"2niw s le&-kitiimu'at.~in nuhkPli89'h8An. 'nah&'w, uleimu,'kliw, hM"? teh leinak aw-jndw4'mi yen?' IOa n&'2s awv-jrndwd'minan? nina'piAm lee klinaw-i'wivim.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 481 thatched it with the boughs of needle-trees. Then they again gathered wood, and built a fire. There was no door; only up at the smoke-hole did their wigwam have any opening. When they had built their fire, they sat and rested. When night had fallen, suddenly something came downward with noise. At once Princess became alarmed. "In vain I forbade you to abuse that skull!" When it had come near, then that Skull-Being1 sang as it came: "Four women came and abused me, but I shall eat them all, if they do not become my wives," thus it sang as it approached. Soon it reached the wigwam. "Princess, where is your door?" it asked as it came. "In the direction of the rising sun," said Princess. When it had looked in vain, "Where is your door?" "In the direction of noon," Princess answered. "It is you I am asking, Princess! Where is that door of yours?" "In the direction of the sunset," she answered it. "Greatly am I delaying myself," said Skull-Being. Thereupon it leaped up; through the smoke-hole that skull came flying into the wigwam; into the fire it fell with a noise, scattering the flames. "Now then," said the Skull-Being to the young woman that first had abused it; "what relation shall I be to you?" "You shall be my brother." "What is that, 'my brother'?" said the Skull-Being, seizing hold of that girl with its teeth. At once it crunched her up entirely. When it had completely devoured her, then again, to another of them, "But you, woman,2 what relation shall I be to you?" it asked her. "My uncle3 you shall be." "What is that you say, 'my uncle'?" said the Skull-Being jumping at her and eating her, entirely devouring that young woman. When it had devoured her, then to the other it said, "Now then, woman, what shall I be to you?" "You shall be my father," said the young woman to it. "What is that 'my father'?" it said to her too, and leaped upon her and devoured her. So now it had devoured three of those young women. "Now then, Princess, what shall I be to you?" "Why, what should you be to me? Of course, my spouse4 you shall be." 1 From here on the skull is spoken of as an animate object. 2 Archaic vocative, as also hereafter in this text. 3 Mother's brother, the sacred relationship. 4 A queer and somewhat unseemly expression is here used; it is felt as an archaism. 432 43~2 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'ini'2 keh wi'nahM' i'wd'1in w~'nikan. &su'akiim iniwi'n as awMh-umni'pit inuh we'nilcAn. nawhi'w, way&'pah, 'naha-'w,. ulci'muhkiw, kAtdI'sg kAt kimli'tsia2! nay6'mina2! kitlnli'hpisunih wi'hkikcumina2.' indi'win ulcimfil'kiwan. ta'?, ukimflI'kiw wi'hkilkumli'win nuk w~'nikcanan, mnitsyd'tva2. sa~ye'h nayli'walhkik., iniwi'n as nliwi'tsin mihkii'kun, as pimi'?netua?. 'pakjt6mina2, mite'muh! sanii'kat kis~mit? nna-w.j'h-ne~neWAk alkuh Idkdwi'natva2.' kayjs-pak~t6md'ts8in, ahpan di'win ispli'miah ini-plihlu'apitik inih wj' ni/can. pahpi'.siw ni's pis-ni'mamewin mihkd~'/cun. /caye-s-pbnii'Min, iniwi'n-pih wi'nah u/cimft'h/ciw /cayli'2ts-tsipli'h/cit; nayi's niw p~nd - win anuh mih/cd'/cun. iniwi'n teh ini'h pim~h m&'wa, niw as /candi'tactvtu/. Z'h-anum UMA's /ciw-a'2ti/cin u/c6'ta/canih wih/6'sAn, iniwi'n /cayes-/ce'si~tAt, 'nahd'w, mite'muh, /cAtdi's /cAt /cimd'tsia2,' Zw&'hin w~' ni/can; '/cAtdi'8risi'/c w'h/ci/cu'mina2.' indi'win u/cimi'h/ciwAn. /cayijs-w'h/cikvcumd'tsin, iniwi'n-pih mayatsyA'tva2. mli/-piipi-,m5'hnet u/cimii'h/ciw, iniwi'n Misi'/c nipj'/hseh as nd'mi/cua2. 'ndi'2s /cAt nimu'awA/c akukhWa'pis8iWA/; a/ci2 pli'pim-a/cihtsih/cua2,' iwli'hin u/cimfi'h/iw. wdi'2na n&'2suh a/ci'htsinu/cin a/cuI wa'pisiWA/c. 'nahdi'w, pa/cWt'mina2, mite'muh. nina-nana'WA/c. saniiA/cesiwAkitf ju','hin we~'nikan. /cayjs-pa/c&temd'tsin, ahpan Ii'win wZ'ni/can 4'nimipiti/c nipi'hih. /cAnahwj'nvuh awe'h-td'pAme'win W&'pisjwan; ni/cut pi'tamewin. win u/cimft'k~/iw. iniwi'n misi'/c pim~'kh as tsiw-usZ'htu/c u/cimi'h/ciw. /cay&s-/~'ihtu/c, inik pimZ'h, 'ma'mahlkAta'h/camic /cit4'8ikcim, kAn as tsi-/ci-pi'mi yen. ni'nah imi's wdh-pi'yn tahnd'nuh n4'hkahldir& ki-pZ'm~wA/c ind'niwA/c.' 'nahM'w,' ~wdi'hin wZ'ni/cAn, '/cit6nii'mim, mite'muh; ni'nah nap nina-pZ'mim. usi'htuwina2 wZ'/ciwAm~'hse&; a?8e'niAkklisyA'pehkeain.' ini'? /ceI mitli'muh as tsi-/ci8yA'pehklisu'atsin a0se'niAn, Misi'/C w~'/ciwAmZ'Aseh as tsiw-u8Z'ktu/c. wd'htsita,'niw pdI~t8-s63Ihkahpitdi'win inih w~/ciwAm~'Aseh. iniwi'n-pih anuh a?se'niAn ni'w payi'Iti/cand'tsin, anuh a~se'niAn /cay&s-mebkcu'Apeh/cisinit. 'nahdi'w, mite'mul&, pih~tikcA'sina?!' ind'win anuh mitli'muhSAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 433 "Now that is the thing!" said Skull-Being. To the far side of the wigwam the Skull-Being went and sat. Then, on the next day, "Now, Princess, let us go from here. Carry me on your back. Wrap me in your skirt and carry me," it said to Princess. So Princess wrapped up the Skull-Being, and they set out. Towards noon they saw some wild geese flying by. "Would I could eat some of those wild geese!" said Princess. "Set me down from your back, spouse. Do you think what you say is hard to do? I shall go kill those creatures for which you long." When she had set it down from her back, off and away that skull flew whirling into the air. Quickly it came, holding two wild geese in its jaws. When it had brought them, Princess cooked a large meal; both of those wild geese she put into the kettle. Then she carefully set aside all the fat. Into those crops which they have there at the neck she poured the fat. When she had done, "Come, spouse, let us be off," said SkullBeing; "Wrap me up again and carry me," it told Princess. 'When she had wrapped it up and taken it on her back, they went. on. As Princess walked along, they now saw a lake. "Would I could eat those swans; those swimming about there " said Princess. Far out upon the water those swans were swimming. "Very well, set me down, spouse! I shall go get them. Do you think they are hard to get?" said Skull-Being. When she had set it down from her back, off and away was Skull-Being, speeding yon way over the water. In a moment it was out there and seized a swan in its jaws; it brought it back between its teeth. When it had brought it, "Now, let us camp here, husband,"' said Princess to it. Then again Princess rendered the fat. When she had prepared the fat, "It is a strange thing about you, that you do not seem to be in the habit of taking steam-baths. Where I come from, every day the men take a steam-bath." "Very well," said Skull-Being; "You speak truly, spouse; I too shall take a steam-bath. Build me the hut; heat the stones." Thereupon did the woman heat stones and build a hut. Truly very tight did she cord that little hut. Then into it she placed those four stones, those stones which glowed red from the flame. "There!" she said to it. "Very well, spouse; put me inside!" it said to her. 1The usual word is used. 28 434 434Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI iniwi'n s pi'htilkw4'pinah inih u~'YnikAn ini's welciwAMe'hsihSih. ini'wdin-pih sayj'lkinah ni'h pimjh. 1kayj's-uh~sah winah mit6d'muh inih pimj'h, ini'win-~pih ma'nahatsin. we'htsitaw si kd'2tewin ini'h ut~n inuh wj'nilkan. '&', mite'muh, si niti'nim-kayd'tskim!' iwa'hin. h&'w, iniwin-pi'h misilc sayj'lkinah ini'Ih pimA1. iniwi'n-pih updi'nehkWAn mli'mik ukimii'hkiw as kdkj'kitutah inih pind'hlkWAn: 'sa~e'h, "nikd'ta-lkitsj'?tAM; piIhkini'na2!" kinaw-iku'ah,' itii'min ini'h upd'nehkWAn; 'pinah na'p, "kAni', nawg'naw; nimdk-sdwd'hein, " kina'w-enaw,' indi'win nuh updi'nehkWAnAn; ' "nahud'w, kAtd's p&'hkinina2!" lcina'w-ikuah; "kAni nawZ'naw; nima'hkesinan nimdik-saka'skahanan," lcina'w-indqv. ini'2 niw ahp4'n niw aw-i'mit,' in4'win aninuh upd'nehkWAnAn. keyejs-pdits-kaki'1hkimats9in, iniwi'n-pih kay&'htsi~tAt inuh mita'muh. sa?yeh w&'2nauw payiAtd'w~iPd'htfk,. 'nahd'w, kAti'8, Mite'MUh, pa'hkini'na2!' 'kAni naw~'naw; nimik,-sdwd'hMn,' ~wd'hin pind'hlkWAn. ta'?, ini'win as p~ni'tah wj'nikAn. nawj'na misi'k: 'kAtd's pa'hkinina2!' ~wii'hin wj'nikan. 'kAni' pina'h; nimdi'hkesi'nan nimeik-salk&'slcahanan,' ijw&'hin pind'hkWAn. iniwi'n as p~ni'tah misi'k inuh wj'nikan. iniwi'n wi'nah mitd'muh sa~ye'h wdi'2naw s piAta'Wipa'htuk. nik~td's aydi'wik, iniwi'n-pih lka'tsi~tAt inul& we'nikAn; pindh'kwAn nisik nd'muahin. 'naha'w, kAni' w w.?'pah nina-n6 'tspinehdw nim4,'tem6'hsim,' ~w' hin w~'nikan. ini'2 wi'nah ayu~m mitd'muh sa~ye'h wdi'2naw as piAta'wipa'Ihtuk, ahpd.'n niw as tsi-kdWts-wdi'p~t. sa~e'h wayd'pah, ini'win-pih wd'ninit as kdi~ts-wdi'pjt. nik~t&'s niw, mind'? as ana' pit, iniwi 'n Wi'yAn as nd~w&'tsin, md'i'tik s meik-ts~kikahah. iniwin-pih apd'2sik kayd~tswd"fiiJt. Wk'spin piAta'Wipa'htawan inuh indi'niw, ini'2 as pimii'tes~yan,' indi'nihtAmin ukimft'hkiw. sa?'i'h ke~tsi'h ayd'wik anuh ina'niwAn, iniwi'n-pih pi8-61u3'Iit inuh wZ'nikan: 'pi/hinA2!P 9wd'hin; '4a2-na'kah ts8' nap aw-ihpii'hiyan?' pis-Zwxflhin wd'nikAn. sa~ye'h nay6'Ihtalh inih w.j'nikan as pitfivi'hneh, ini'win-pih payiAta,'Wipd'htu~k anuh ina'niwAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 435 Then she threw that skull inside the hut. Then she poured the fat. "First drink some!" she said to it. "Very well!" said Skull-Being. So the woman, having brought the fat to boil, gave it to drink. In truth, Skull-Being's jaws simply sputtered with the heat of it. "Why, spouse, it comes to me just sizzlingl." She poured some more of the fat. Thereupon Princess took her comb and spoke to it. "Soon, 'I want to come out now; open it for me!' it will say to you," she told her comb; "but do you then, 'Just a moment, I am combing my hair,' do you say to it," she told that Comb2 of hers. "Then, 'Come, open for me!' it will say to you; 'Just a moment, I am patching my moccasins,' you will say to it. That is the way you will always answer that creature," she told that Comb of hers. When she had carefully instructed it, the woman started running. She ran along, following the path of a brook. After she had run a long ways, "Come now, spouse, open for me!" "In a moment; I am combing my hair," said the Comb. Then Skull-Being stopped calling. Soon again, "Open for me!" said Skull-Being. "Just a moment, please; I am patching my moccasins," said the Comb. Then again Skull-Being ceased to talk. By this time the woman had run a long ways. But at one time then Skull-Being crawled out; it saw only a comb.3 "Oho! Tomorrow I shall pursue my wife,4" said Skull-Being. By this time the woman had run a long ways, for she must have gone on without stopping, at a great pace. The next morning she arose and ran with all her might. After a while, looking ahead, she saw someone hewing wood. Then she ran all the harder. "If I reach that man, I am saved," thought Princess. She was already near that man, when Skull-Being came shouting. "Wait for me!" it said; "Whither in all the world can you run from me?" cried Skull-Being as it approached. She could already hear the skull5 thudding against the ground as it came, when running she reached that man. 1 An archaic word, used only in this story. 2 Here and below the comb is spoken of as animate. 3 Here in the normal, inanimate form. 4 The usual word. ' From here on the skull is spoken of in the normal, inanimate form. 28* 436 43" ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII U'lu, nane' 2. inii'win. '1ki'Asina9! awd'tuk nipi'tine'sihuld' wii'wahte? indi'ni'w isej'2tawin as ts.'kilkahah w~'pan. 'h&'. nane'?. sawdi'nirnina2! lki'As8ina2! awa'tuk nipi'tine'sihulc!' ini'win sa~ye'h sikA'nah as piS-piAtd'malkah inih w#Z'nikcan; iniwi'n-pih watd'hpinikut u,?nd'h8An; umiiti'hsih ~p~'hnahukin aninuh u~na'hsAn. iniwi'n-pih inih wj'p mdi'mik inuh ind'niw, as p-t'lwAkanii'htah inih wZ'nilkan. niku,'t nisidc a'wiwin uhkii't inuh ind'niw. iniwin-pih waya'pit nikfu'tikcAtaW; Wti'htSita'W iniwi'n as ki'hki~tAt. ayii'pehta'w ihpih payiAtd'Wipd'htuk,. ini'win as atd'mikut misi'lk inih wZ'nikan. iniwi'n-.pih misi'lk paya-'palc&'htah as y&'h~pits,pZ'2salkandi'htah; iniwi'n-pih misi'lc wayd'p*it. sa~e'h ke~tsi'h aya'wilc inih wk,- &'sipeh d'wiwin, - 'piihkgnd'h!' jwii'hin nikii'tikAtdiw. iniwi'n-pyih payii'hlkiskAt inuh d'sipeh. kay~s-pi'htilke'~pahtuk, kipd'hkuskauwin inuh d'sipeh. kayjs-lkipa'hkuskAt, iniwi'n-pih Pisnii'htali'hneh inih wtj'nikan. mdts-una'kan, me'?tik-vn&'kan, iniwi'n as anii'mihneh. pii'hkinA'min inih 'ut~n&'kan nikii'tikAtaW; Anflamos,'hsAk ni's iniwi'n as api'tua?. as pahpd'wi~ta'tua? akUh Ana'muk, mam4-'h-And'muk d'WiWAki~n. ayd'tskwAt, 'pahpa'wi~ta'kvn!' ind'wi'n. iniwi'n-pih apa'?sik mdimd'hkikenitua?. 'nahd'w, ahkj'w as lcWskikeh aw.~'h-paki'tamu,'kun inik w~'nilkAn!' in4'win Uti'hseh8An. ini2-pih tsi-pii'hlkinah inih uft'skcu'Ahtem. inim-td'pahtamin inih w~'nikan. kay&~-t4'pahtah inih w~'nikan, si sa-'pipitii'win. ini2-pih misi'k inu'h nikut tsi-tfi'pahtah nih w~'nikan. nAwa'h wi'hkihtaWAkin as awdtii'kua? ayi'suh as i'nim-td'pahtd'hlcua2. w~'kiw keh piAtd'wihtawA'kin, ahk~'w as kU'skikeh as awd&-palci'tahkua2. naha'w, nikc~td's aya'wik, pt'WAkin AuAnmu, as pi'htikani'tsin nikit' tikAtaw Uti'hSehSAn. 'pahpa'Wi~tA'kun!' md' win. as tsi-pahp&'w~i~tAtua? Ana'muk, Anarno'hsAk a'WiWAkin. iniwinpih misik pa'takuha'tsin inih me~tik-una'Ican. iniw~i'n-pih pind'hkWAn ma mik nikut'tikAtaw as sdwd'ham~wa'tsin uhs~'mehsAn. 'ta'? aw-ii'yahkupi'kah, nehsj'?, anum kj'ne~nAn?' in4'win. 'hA'hkiyA'n keh aw-d'yahkupi'lcatun,' ma 'win. kay~s-sdwd'ham~w&'tsin, 'naha'w, Z'h-ayum usj'hin; y6's3 niw ahpit'n kiw-d'yap~nun,' ina'win, mehku'a~napiAn as m~ni'tsin anuh uh8Z'meh8An; 'kAn wi'nah nik6'tuh kina-tsipd'hkinan,' ina'win. as kAski'hkinika'tak inih wj'kiwAm, iniwi'n ki-y6h-pi'sehkAk mitsim~'hseh tsi-kUs-pZ'?sahameh, as ki-mZ'tsik inu~h mitd'muh. 'naha'w, nehseZ'2,' ina'win, 'nita'wat8-pahpe sim.' in4'win. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 437 "Oh, Elder Brother," she said to him, "hide me! A spirit is pursuing me hither!" Unconcerned, the man kept on hewing his arrows. "Oh, Elder Brother, take pity on me! Hide me! A spirit is pursuing me hither!" Then, when the skull had almost got there, that brother of hers lifted her up; into his sack her brother put her. Then that man took an arrow and with it knocked that skull to splinters. That man had only one leg. Then One-Leg began to run; truly he ran fast. When he had run halfway to his goal, again did that skull overtake him. Then again he repeatedly struck it, beating it into small fragments, and then again started to run. When his dwelling, - it was a rocky cliff, - was already near, "Open the door!" cried One-Leg. Thereupon that rock went open. When he had run inside, the rock went shut. When it had gone shut, the skull came banging against the hard surface. A large bowl, a wooden bowl lay there, face down. One-Leg turned open that bowl; two little puppies were sitting there. "Shake yourselves!" he said to them. When those dogs shook themselves, they turned into large dogs. For the last time, "Shake yourselves!" he said to them. Then they grew larger still. "Now then, go throw that skull over the edge of the earth!" he said to his dogs. Thereupon he opened his door. One of them seized the skull in its teeth. When it had seized the skull in its teeth, the latter glided right through. Then the other dog seized the skull. It took a long time before they managed to carry it off, by taking turns at seizing it in their mouths. At last they got it there and threw it down over the edge of the earth. Then, after a time, the dogs came back and One-Leg let them in. "Shake yourselves!" he said to them. When the dogs shook themselves, they turned into little dogs. Then he covered them again with the wooden bowl. "There we are!" he said. Then One-Leg took a comb and combed his younger sister's hair. "How long, little sister, shall your hair be?" "As long as I am let it be," she told him. When he had finished combing it for her, "Now then, do you work at making this; always stay here in this place," he said to his sister, giving her a red sash. "Never at all will you cook," he told her. From where that dwelling was partitioned off, there would come forth meat that had been chopped fine; this the woman would eat. "Well, sister," he said to her, "I shall hunt a bit." 438 438Publicatio~n-, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwin-pih paya'1&kinah~ kedhte'nika'milcul. pipiku~'ah,8eh Ici'kit~wd'htamin. Ikayes-aw~'h-apjTt kdilte'nikamikuh, pi'frpisiw pisy&'frpit8-tsi'Ihkiwe'win MAskutt2/ah-pisa'kicWAkc. ni's pimi'win; iniwi'npih keh nayi'pi?tAt; nis s kAski'hklinik&'tdlk iniwi'n misi'k s aA pei'hlkinah inih a'sipeh; iniwi'n s pihtswei'pinatsin anuh pisd' ki WAn. iniwi'n-pih Misi'k kdip&'hkuha1h as pi8-di'yapit inul& in4'niw. 'nalui'w, nehs~'?, kiki-nani'2tAlke'sim; mitdi'muI& nina-nii'niiw s a-kiw-w~'tapimat. p~n p&'4pis p&'hkIinah y5'm kitd~ku'alhteminaw, neIhsZ'2. "sa~ye'h nipi'Am.pa'hkcinah y~m kitediku'ahitiminaw!" kina'wikuah. p~n pii'hpis p& 'hkinah; kina-kiti'malhtun IcW'yaw 1cWspin pa'hlkina'm~wat. Ikes-teh-pa'hlkina'mowAt, y& ni ni'nah di'sinalkusZ' yen ini'? aw-isind'lkusit. ini2-pih misi'lk aw-an5'nih s a-pai'Ihkinaman ~'h-y~m kcaItdi'nikamik; misi'lk a-nit6tam inik nipdi'pikcu'ahseh. kR'spin mW'nat, kindi'pim,' indi'win uhsemehs~n; 'lc'8pin teh lkAn pi'htikAnAt, pi'yen ni'nah, wine'? niw a-pa'hlkislAlk y~m kcitasln'Ahteminaw.' iniwi'n-pih may&'tsiAt nikfu'tilkAtaw as nifitu'Ilkiwet. payi'Atett mini'kdin, as tsi-pi'Iliket nilku't inih w~'lkiwm, und'siwin inul& miti'mk,h tsiw-awjh&-mehkdiwd'tsin. 'nahM'w!' jwa'Ihin inuhi miti'muh. u~miithsZ'Ihseh as tsi-nay5'Ihtah- utiihpinamin. iniwi'n-pih mayat8 -YA'tua? as tsi-mdtk-piipim5'Ihnitua2. 6', iniwi'n-pihi kayes-p~i'At inuh/i'wyAk. Cal', neIWs'2, tsiyat'w niJpis-ya'hi-waslkem; pa'ki&tnalh yo 1kita8kv'Ahtiminaw!' p&'pilk ni'pi~tawin inu/i miti'muhi as pi'/tikanti'tin; ta'?, ani'win niw u~ndi'hsAn ayawdi'nimatsin;- iniwi'n niw d'8ina'lkusin'it. ka yis-pi'Mitilenit nu/i in/i'niw, 'pa'hklina/i, ne/isj'?, yum idh/id'nikamilk!' kaku,'Ane~nakci~tawin mita'muhi s awM/-p&'hkinai kehit4'nikamilk. '&'ni2 te'/i, ne/is8', nih nipa'ptlku'A/ise/?' kay.~'s-utii'/ipinahi, iniwi'n-pii 6'wihi-ap~t kdhtid'nilkamilkuh as MAskfuti'a/i-pisa'lkiWAk. lii'? teh aw-ise'2At as a-ne'2nAtSin? wdi'pus a wiwin nulh d'wi/i-way4'8ima'tsin ann/i Mita'MUh8sAn; MAslcota'masicun a'WiWAnin ann/i w9'pan inn/i w&'pvs. wd'/itsita lcd'2tin wi'na/i inn/i pisdi'hkiw ppim-ts'patakd'win ann/i wii'pvsun as patsi'slca/a'tsin. sa~e'/i misi'lc ann/i Mita'Mn/isAn inni Ma't-t6n6/i inn'win wi'na/i nap pdi'pm-ts89'patakdit ann/h mitdi'mn/isAn, wdh/taw tsiwldi'?ts-pimi'nisi/iu'titua2 a/cu/i pisd'hki~cWAl as undi'nikci'nimitua2. nu/i mita'mu/i wj'ne~nAn si pi'se/i/i?i'nennnin inn/i mita'mu/i ann/i wZ'ne?nan. as pis-mdlc-pim5'/inet wi'na/i nilciitikAtdiW, /cAni'win lka'k6/i dni 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 439 Then he opened the smoke-hole in the roof. He blew a small whistle. By the time he had gone and seated himself there at the smoke-hole, there came the wild roaring and stamping of buffaloes. He shot two of them: then he arose; where it was partitioned he again opened the rock; inside there he threw the buffaloes. Then he closed it again and came and sat there. "Now, sister, you are lonesome; I shall go get a woman to keep you company in the house. Do not in any event open our door here, sister. 'Here I am, back. Open the door!' one will say to you. Be sure not to open it; you will bring ruin upon yourself, if you open the door for him. But if you do open it, he will look exactly as I look. Then he will bid you open this smoke-hole and will ask for my whistle. If you give it to him, you are as good as dead," he told his sister; "but if you do not let him in, when I come, our door will go open of its own accord." Then did One-Leg go courting. When he reached a town, he entered one of the houses, and the woman was beautiful whom he had gone there to find. "I have come to get you," he said to her. "Very well!" said the woman. She took her little bag and carried it on her back. Then they started off and walked on their way. Then came that creature. "Oh, sister, I have had to come back; open our door!" Quickly the woman arose and let him in; for she took him for her brother; he looked exactly like him. When that man had entered, "Open, sister, the smoke-hole!" The woman jumped in her hurry to comply, and went and opened the smoke-hole. "Sister, where is my whistle?" "Here it is!" she said to him. Taking it, he went and sat by the smoke-hole, blowing the whistle. Truly there came the roaring noise of buffalo. What was he to do to kill any? A rabbit was he who had come and deceived that woman; prairie-weeds were that rabbit's arrows. Truly then was one of those buffaloes running about carrying on its head that rabbit which it had gored. And then forthwith a great bull was running about with that woman on its horns, and truly, in great shape did those buffalo chase one another about in their high spirits. The woman's hair went waving in the wind. But as One-Leg was walking homeward, suddenly there came some kind of a noise from his house. 440 440Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xi] '1cisi'Ahkah,' ind'win w~'wan; 'neh,8~'h kAna'pats ka'k64 isj'1kiw!' ta?, inul& mitd'mu~h k4'2tsih payiAWiU'awin, 'kAni'wv. naWd't's'ta2 d'nalhkami'lcah? we~s~'kiw ki'nah ap, tsiw-&'wi yen?' indi'win as pAlcama'tsin; 'kitni'kahkah kinaw-ildi'm aw-di'ts-ahkj'w-takik,' ini' win. u~k6'2simawan Si pipi'M-85Wa'nehlci'2siwanin. wdihtsita 'w minwin as nehk'sit. payiAta'Wipa'htvk, ma'wa niw kis-ne~ne'win ani'nuh pisa'hkiwAnA; uk6'2simawan iniwi'n-pih kayi?tdi'hkunA'tsin nis we'winil& pisa'hlkiWAn. iniwi'n-pih sdki'hcisimii'tsin uhsj'Meh8An; ini'hj'y, nehsj'9, 5nj'nun! kitd'?nusim!'ind'win UhsWMehsAn. iniwi'n-pih mei'nawats pis-nd'hnet mitei'muh. ni'w-inuh kaye-saIhpd'mit, iniwi'n-pih wdin~'pahtuk inuh mita'muh as yah-peM&'tesit.. wdi'pus wi'nah nap, kutd'?inas ini'win s kiwiipi'hsih, tsi-k&~-yd'hpits.ini'win-pih misi'k sayaiwe'ham~wa'tsin UIhs~'Me&An. kaye~s-pi'tsp52sd'hkakeI&d'ts8in, 'nahd'w, nehsY?, mditsi'ah. uma'nakah iSit'Anun as m6'hkahahb i'nalkah; mni's awjh-ke~tdi'hkiwe'pinun; ni'nah nap as ndi'wahk~ik i'nakah, ni'2 as AWAh-tandi'siyen,' ~wa'hin nikft'tikAtaw; 'y6's winah aIhki'hih kAta'-tAna'siyalb, kAn pas nima'hnut-tAna'sirn'nawan.' ini'2 mei'waw. ini'2-ni ku/b ld'hkinawAk. ulkimii'hkiw y6'hpih niw mitsi' niw mini? as &'yapit as m5'hkAhAh. awd'tuk a'wiw as yd'h-pemdi'tsiha'tsin UhSZ'MehSAn, misi'k teh winah Mdt8-Mita'MUhsAn umfiit'hsihsih s p~'hnahatsin; awdi'tuk tsiw-a'wiw. 105. THE ROLLiNG SKULL. SECOND VERSION. (Josephine Satterlee) ne~ni'w mit4'muhsAk uwZ'tik4'hkuhti~wAk, inuh teh uks~mimaw wukt~me'hkiw ind'win. nikc6'tidk s mdk-pi'pim,6'hnetua2, Icoiwm'n niw pis-tarnwa'hneh w~'pitan; ts'pay me's tdh d'wiwin. iniwi'n teh s tei'ps'nai'hkua'? s kehpiti&'kua2 me'2tikuh aki'kuh ni's UMA'himawAk. iniwi'n teh s myA'sina'2tukua2 s pdi'hpinu'tah1iiua2. inu'h tdh uhs~'mimaw, 'p6'n!' jwa'hin; kinu'awdw anuh unm~'hsn. iniwi'n-pih teA mayatsyA'tua2, kay~s-1kehpitikIca2 mnis me?ti'kuh. as inim-mei'k-teh-niw-pd'pim6'hnitua2, lkAniwi'n niw misi'k pistani'tah. 'ma wa niw kikdi'taw-8a'2sakumine'MUAW!' ~w&'hin. ' Spoken in a loud but very high-pitched tone. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 441 "Walk fast," he told his wife, "I am afraid something is happening to my sister!" But that woman, whenever they got a bit nearer, "Just a moment! Just wait for me!" she would say. When she had said it four times to him, he struck her down with his arrow. "What is the matter? What sort of creature may you be?" he said to her as he hit her; "Spotted Frog you will be called as long as the earth endures," he told her. Then One-Leg started out fast. When he came in sight of his dwelling, there was his sister, carried about with her hair blowing long in the wind. Then he was very angry. He ran up and killed all the buffalo; then he pulled his sister from the buffalo's horns. Thereupon he laid his sister on the ground, and shot an arrow into the air. "Hey, sister, arise! Something is falling on you!" he called to his sister. Thereupon the woman began to breathe faintly. When he had shot for the fourth time, the woman leapt up from where she lay, restored to life. As for the rabbit, it lay strung out somewhere thereabouts, its belly all burst open. Then he again combed out his sister's hair. When he had had her put on good clothes, "Now, sister, go away from.this place. Go over this way, to the east; go there and settle there for good; as for me, I shall go dwell in the south," said One-Leg; "For if we should dwell here on earth, we should not live in peace." That is all. That is as much as I know of the story. Princess to this very day has her place there in the east. A spirit was he who restored his younger sister to life, and put a full-grown woman into his pocket; a spirit he surely was. 105. THE ROLLING SKULL. SECOND VERSION. (Josephine Satterlee) There were three women, sisters, and the name of the oldest was Princess. Once, as they were walking about, suddenly there came the sound of rattling teeth; it was the head of a corpse. Then the two elder sisters seized it and bound it to a tree. Then they made fun of it and abused it. But the youngest sister said, "Stop!" warning her sisters. Then they set out again, leaving it tied to the tree. But then, as they were walking along, suddenly it came with noise. "All of you I shall crunch to bits!" it said. 442 442 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n te/i d'ts mnu/ uhsi'mimaw, 'naMd'w,' ~wa'1&in, 'ini~pa'2 mini naMd'w, iniwi'n te/is ne'9nilkutua2 akun/ nV S urne'/ismawAk. na/i&'w, kayC8'-ne~natsin anu/i um*~'/simawan, 'na/i&'w, ulcimii'/ikiw,' iw&'/iin, 'nay6'rnina2,' iwa'/iin. iniwi'n teh s nayom&'tsin inuh ukimii'/ikiw, kutdi'2nas teA s awdncd'tsin. iniwi'n teh s Ucs-wdwi'k-itua2. ki-mdtit'win teh ki'se/i 4'/ikwa/i in/i ts' pay wi'8 mu/i, w~'nikan inu/i; ki'se/i a'/ilwa/i Icimdtsi' win. ini'? te/i s kiw-W'yit inn/i ukim6'/ikiw. iniwi'n mAma'kane'hiikin. nik~tdi's niw nUki'?SAn iniwi'n as pi'Anit; - inn/i ukimfZ'/ikiw pAya'kWAtS tsi-td'WAn uki'?SAn; - iniwi'n teh s ii'timi'2tawatsin s mAmad'kane'/iiknt ann/i. 'nahi'w,' ~w&'hi 'kAts kim&d'ne/ine?,' ~wa'hin, 'me~si'/i me/isj'wan s aw-us~'/itawa/i,' inn/i uki'2simaw. iniwi'n te/i s MAna'/inetua?, rnisi'k teh ni's sii'?nawa'/ikWAtnn 1kZ'ska/ia'mulkin. 'na/ia'w, leinaw-p6'awem,' indi'win ann/i nii' yAn, 's8a~e'hi salca'na/i Pi IAt, sa?e'/i te/i ini'/i pis-inZ'/i "Icilcs-p5'tawemit, a'nem?" - "Zh anem, nikjs-p5'tawem," kina'w-iniw,'I ilkn'a/in nn/i nli'?8An; 'na/ia'w, ini'?-pi/i teh a-mami'a/itumiyAn,' iku'a/iin nlki'2sAn. /ia'w, 1di'?tin sa~e'/i salka'na/i payi'At, iniwi'n-pi/i pay6'tawet mnu/ ukimii'/ikiw. ki'Axs~win ftih inn/i nki'?simaw. iniwi'n-te/i-pi/i 8a?e'/i payi'At inn/i. 'Ia', ane'M, nikjs-pi5'tawem,' ina'win. 'na/dive', mni'? ice/i sa?ye'/i s a-yii'/ipitd'hna?snunan!' ilc'a/iin. iniwi'n teh s taw-lc&/tswii'pinilkut inis iskii'tia/i. iniwi'n teAhs ka'kitit inn/i mitd'mu/i; 'nil-i'?s!' Zwi'/iin. 'ha'h, ha? a'nn/i nki'?SAn?' ~w&'hiin inn/i w~'nik-An. 'anu'm-e? ke/il' iwd'i'/in pi8-kits9'pa/itnk inn/i pe/ini'/ise/i. iniwi'n te/i s a/ipa'kitii'/kna? mi/i wZ'nikcan ini's isk~fi'tia/i; ann/i te/i Sd'?nAWi'/ikWAtnn ini'win s mitsi'mn/uh'hkuca? ini's iskftz'tia/i. nAwd'k kAni'w k&s-w~'nutewin mi/i wE's. ini'?. 106. THE WOMEN OF THE EASTERN SKY. (MAsgkwawdina/ikWAt~k) ispei'mia/iUniA's asipi'/kihc/kiw tsi-tA'lcna/i; ini'? as tsi-Ikis-wi'lkitua2 miiii'ta/i a/en/ Miti'Mn/iSA/e; nkia/is6'wawan wi'kime'wAkmn. na/iu'w, ini'?-~pih andi'/ikiAn tsi-/ejw-a/ipdi'/iti'/ikua?UnMA'sga/iki'/ii/; a/i/ua/itawa'kAn /eiw-a'wiwi&n. ini? as pi&ni'?tAtna?. na/ui'w, ini? as 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 443 Then said that youngest sister, "There!" she said; "That was why I warned you!" she said. Then it killed those two elder sisters. When it had slain the elder sisters, "Now, Princess," it said, "carry me on your back," it said. So then Princess carried it on her back and took it away somewhere with her. And there they continued to dwell. All day long he would be away, that Being who was a dead person's head, that Skull- Being; for the entire day he would go off. Princess would stay where she was. Then it tormented her. Whenever it came home, "Have you made the fire, you dog?" it would say to her. "Yes," she would answer it; "I have made the fire." At one time then came her son, - for it appears that this Princess had a son, — and then she told him how she was tormented by that Being. "So then," he said, "let us gather wood," said that son; "and prepare a great amount of fire-wood." Then they gathered wood; and two forked sticks they cut. "Now then, do you build the fire," he told his mother; "and when he comes and says to you,'Have you built the fire, you dog ' then do you answer him, 'Yes, you dog, I have built the fire,"' her son told her; "And then you will call upon me for help," her son told her. And accordingly, before he came, Princess built up the fire. Her son hid himself. Then that Being came. "Have you built the fire, you dog?" it asked her. "Yes, you dog, I have built the fire." "Oho, now is when I shall burn you to a cinder!" it said to her. Then it was about to thrust her into the fire. Then did that woman cry out; "My son!" she said. "Ha, where is that son of hers?" said the Skull-Being. "Here he is for you!" cried the lad, springing from where he had hidden. Then they threw that skull into the fire, and with those forked sticks they held it fast there in the fire. It took a long time before that head was entirely burned up. That is all. 106. THE WOMEN OF THE EASTERN SKY. (Maskwawanahkwatok) Up above yonder, there must be a rocky place; that is where dwelt these ten women; with their mother they dwelt. Now, they used to throw down a reed-mat to the earth here; it served as a ladder. On it they would descend. Then they started 444 444Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Mats yA'tua2; lkAn vwdina'nima nuwawan ina'fliWAnl; ta'2-nalcah ayi'nit ki-nand'WAk'. ta'?, akuh ifla'niwAl sa'kaw lkiw-a'WiWAk icinotspine~ha'tu~a2 anuh Mitd'MUh8An. kutdi'?na8 as lkiw-ini-wi'kitua?2. in~iwin-pih ki-mAMualw&'tua utd'Ihuwawan anuh in'nfl'WAfl. y6'win teh usd'kipAn~wa2 as 1c'w-a~tukcua2 ani'nuh Mitd'hiAn. nalba'w, as mdtk-nipd'tua2 alkuh ina'niWAk-, iniwi'n-pih ki-MatSi'Atua2 akuh mitd'muhSAlk. ini2 keh wd'nitu'awin akuh ina,'niuWA1, ICAnWi'yAlC mita'muhsAlk. ini? kdh s n~tspinli'htsiketua2. nahd'w, payi'AtatU'awin inis wdih-pi'Atua2 akuh mita'muhsAlk, ini2-pih ki-ne~ni'Itua2 aku'h indt'niwAk, rn&'waw as lki-mu,'atua2 anuh ind~'niwAnl. min aIhpd'n kayjs-isi'?tAtua?; me?,si'h ind'niWAn k~s-ne~ne'WAk aki'kuh mitd'mnuhSAk. ta'?, JkAnhWi'yAk- uwVi'hkiht~nan kAn as a-n5'tspineha'tsin: kj~s-MAMU'akcuk, uti'h~wawan anuh mitli'muhsAn. ini'9 niwv ahpd'n niw 1kay~s-isi'2tWua?. nalha'w, ini?-pih ni/cut miti'mukh w&'?naw kay~'s-isiAt; nAna'wahicamik uhs~'mehsAn apahni'hSAn ini'2 as awjh-mtisd'hk-Atewdhd'tsin, sa~ydh 'wds~imitatua? akuh mita'muhsAk. nahul'w, kayjs-anih-mis'i'hk-AteWd't in-uh apdhni'hseh, iniP me~ti'k as tsitsj'patuk; updnehsi'AhsiMAn tdwanin. iniwi'n teh as ki-ni'mapit inuh pind'hsiah. misi'k w&'kuhs3An ati'hsehsAn ii'wiwanin inuh apdhni'hseh kay&s-m~'nih as misa'hk-Atewit. iniwi'n as p Ii'pahpZ'sit, me~si'h InAnato'An as ne~na'ts3in s a-mdmitsihsi'nit ume'hsn, 1kjs-nikdnd'tsin. nik~tdi's niw aydi'wik, ni's awdihs'hsAn pind'win. 'nakhi'w, nimi'?,' indt'win, '~'h-akcum nayi'Is niw p6'nin awdhs~'hsAk; Wi' yAk kAte'w-pi'wVAkc. mi-si'k nim&'hkesi'nan usj'htqth,' irn''win anu'h umj'IhsAn. ta'?, iniwi 'n niw d'8i~tAt inuhwtitd'mituh. ki'?tin sa~y'i'h na'hkah mitd'muhSAlk kit&'wane't5WAkin; yd'h pits uti'h IMyAWe~kehkc6'seh pis-&hpata'h~win. payi'Atua?, iniwi'n niw tsj'1kapah as pis-tsihlc&lkune'hiketua2. kay~s-tsihkJdkune'hiketua2. iniwi'n-pih me~ti'kWAn kayjskaha'tua? akuh miti'muhspik, as i'wanatua?; me~ti'kwAn 1ud'neh ahpj'2ts sk~'~ahe'WAkc, weWcwaw as usi'IMulcua2. 1cayiski'sihtu~kua?, ini2-pih misi'k sehtei'lun pay6'hpunatua? s anahki'htsilcetua?. ini?-pih misi'kc mdi'nehnetua2. iniP. k-ayjs-p5'tawetua2, ini? s d'yapitua9. nalha'wt. iniwi'n-pih teh payi'Atua9 aktfh in/i'fliWAk sa'kdiw. 'ihilbhi hi hiI!' iZwd'kin as /caw&'tsitua?; ta'? /cJs-ma/hkd r/'IWA/c 6t&'k/umuwd'WAn. as pilttike'tua? ind'niwA/c, iniwi'n-pilt /ayjs.-a/uAhd'tsin ninuh ni's awaltse'htsAn as kd?ts-ahsdm&'tsin anult mna'niwAn. wd'htsita'w iniwi'n tsi-/cd~ts-mi'tsilhsitua? a/cut ind'niWA/c, /ci/c'h nap~p md'waw s 'mini'/cua2. kayis-aniht-mi'tsihsitua?, iniwi'n-fpih sayi,'kitawane'titua? s awjh-pi'htikawdi'tua? anulh mitei'muhSAn as inim-witapimii'tua? md'wa niw nii'ni/cut. iniwi'n-pih a/cult mitd'multsA/ wdind'ht 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 445 forth; they did not miss any men; wherever men were staying, they would always see them. There would be nine of these men who followed these women. When they camped somewhere on the way, they would take these men's hearts away from them. Here, into the braids of their head-dresses, was where they placed those hearts. Then, while these men were asleep, these women would start away. So then, when the men arose from sleep, the women would be gone. Then they would follow them. Then, when these women arrived at the place whence they had come, these men would be slain, and they would eat these men. That was what they always did; many men had those women slain. For no one could keep from following them: those women had taken their hearts. That was the way they always did. Now, a certain woman went far away; into the deep wilderness she went, to give her young brother the puberty-fast; too dangerous at this time were these women. When that youth had completed his fasting, a stick of wood he set up; he had a pet eagle1. Up there that eagle used to perch. Also a fox that boy had as a pet, which he had been given in his fasting. Then he kept hunting, killing very much game, that his sister might have ample food when he had left her. At one time he brought home two young bears. "Now, sister," he told her, "set these two young bears to boil; some people are coming. And make me some moccasins," he told his sister. She did exactly as he told her. And really, as twilight fell. some women came, one behind the other, out of the depths of the forest. Way in the very rear a little old woman came hobbling along on a cane.2 When they had come, then close to the wigwam they scraped the snow away. When they had scraped the snow away, these women cut down trees and dragged them near; some of them, you see, were cutting trees for building the lodge. When they had completed it, they broke off cedar-boughs to make their flooring. Then they gathered firewood. Then, when they had built the fire, they rested. And then came these men, nine of them. "Hee-hee-hee-hee!" they said, shivering in the cold; for their blanket-robes had been taken away from them. That youth then said to them, "Come in here!" When the men came in, he took from the kettle the two young bears and gave these men a hearty meal. Truly then did these men eat with zest, drinking all the broth, besides. When they had finished eating, they filed out of the house and entered the lodge of these women and sat by them, each by his own. Then these women placed meat upon wooden spits and roasted it. When it 1 As a result of his dream-vision during the fast. 2 The tenth, and, as later appears, youngest of the sisters. 446 446Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI ku~hd'hkua? mi'tsime'hseh s api'tua2. kay~s-kWsitekc, inuh tdh um~'hsimaw kawin ldi'k~k, vta'skuAhtarMo'wanan uta'niniAMAn. a yd'ts - ni'AnAn-a'witua? alkuh Mita'MUhSAk kawi'n utii'hsaman6'wawan unti' niniAMo' wawan. ayum nikf~titu'Agitah ma'nawats i81cU'Ahtamowa'win uta'niniAMAn. ahpi't8 niw aki'lcvh aydts-ni'tna2 aydi'pehtaw is8kn'Ahtamowa'wAkin nih m~tsim~'hseh. nah&'w,, iniwi'n-pih di'wih-pi'htiket inuh apdhni'hseh. ahkdi'hkiAnih ini'win as api't WjyAwelcehko'hseh; ani'win 4'wih-wjtapimdi'tsin inuh apdhni'hseh. wdthtsita'w. iniwin as kdi~ts-ayd'nitua2 alcnh rnita'mnhsAk. 'ihsdiA!, ~w&'kin, 'tW/2 tah wi'nah nap j'hb-aynm a'seOt, anuh n5'hkunmd'hsinawan pis-we'tapima'tsin?' kawi'n p6's upd'htanan inuh pdihni'hbseh. md'nawats niw Ic8 -mni'tsu~ahin inih uftdpuan inuh we'pywekehl'hseh, s ahsdimi'tsin nuh uta'niniAmAn.,sa~dh di'pah wdsihsi'hkua? s nipa'tua2, naha'w, kayes-ma'wanipd'nit anuh ume'hS^n iniwi'n dind'tsin anuh apdhni'hSAn inuh wj'yAwj1cehk5'hseh, 'nahd'w, pipi'm-pehks3'nam6'win ~'h-alkum nimj'hsAkc anuh nsa'kipanu'wiawan. ini'2 as a~te'kin anuk utdi'h~wawan e~'h-akum nd' niwAk. aku'Atsih iSi'Anufl; k6'n awjh-misd'hkUAte'nin; s&'kdw aw~'h-usZ'hin WAto'UwAk; ani 2 tdh aw-dtoWWAtua2 ini's vsd'kipA'n~wa2 ~'I&-akum nimj'hSALc.' ta'2. kayj',S-piAt inuh apehni'hseh, iniwi'n-piA anuh nrm~'hsima'wan kayjs-pehk5'nam~wCI'tsin inih usa'ke-pAn; siwas aOte'win inul& ind'niw 6td'h. kaY&s-MAMd'k inuh apdhni'hseh, iniwi'n-pik ani'nuh k&nien misi dOt'watsin usd'kUpanih. iniwi'n-pih aydh-a~tuwd'tsin nuh ind'niWAn inih atd'h. ini'win niw md'waw d'hpinAnd'tsin ani'nuh Mitii'MUhSATI, rn&'waw as yii'h-a~tuw&'tsin anuh ind'niwAn atd'hwawan. kayfr's-md'waw-d2tuw&'tsin, iniwi'n-pih pis-us~hsih. nahd'w,, iniwi'n-pih wd'njt inul& We-YAUIAkehk6'seh akvn'Atsih as i'5iAt. nawT'naw pisg-pi'htike'win. nahd'w, wadhtsit&'w iniwin as 6nd'sit, us8kj'h-ki?,gj'hseh, s kijs-awejh-pAkcj'tah weypwkelhk'hseh s3 isnd'kusit. 'nah&'w, tsk-wd'pah, ini'2 as kAta'w-mats~'ya'h,' iku'ahin apdhni'hseh anuh W~'WAn; 'diyi'pehtaw nnaw-inim-w~'kciminaw,' iku'ahin. mdk-niw-nip&'t apdhni'hseh,. iniwvi'n as tsj2tsipe'nikut anuh Wj' wAn, uMdtim65'hSeMAn. 'ini'? sayd'h as miitsi'yah.' iku'ahin: "wl'htsitaw ki-ki'hki~taw ayum nim~'hsinaw.' h&'w,, mni? as itni'tua2 mbitd'mnuhSAk; m&'wa niw ni? as mnahkdmd'tua? nta'nini'AMuwawan ut&'Ikumuwd'wan. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih afpihni'hseh nalkah aSi'Anit m~ind'2 s aw~h-pihd'tsin. dlkawd'htik njpuwi'win nuh apdhni'hseh. pis-mind'2tami'pahta'win MfAtSikihlcva'wis. ini'win-pih pdkArna'tsin uhkii'tih as piihkilcAtdhii'tsin. 'y6't kiw-ind'puma-t 1k6'hlcnmeh as lki-wT'kimiwdt?' ind'win wj' - nimun. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 447 was cooked done, then the oldest of the sisters, as she ate, left nothing for her husband. The first five women did not give their men anything to eat. The sixth one left a little food for her man. The last four kept back half of that meat for them. Then that youth went and entered their lodge. By the cookingplace sat the little old woman; by her side the lad took his seat. Indeed, then those women laughed loudly. "Fie, nasty!" they said, "What is this fellow doing, coming here and sitting by our grandmother?" The lad did not heed it at all. The little old woman had eaten very little of her roast; she gave the food to her man. At last, in due time, they lay down to sleep. When the time had come for them to lie down to sleep, then, after all her older' sisters were asleep, the little old woman said to the youth, "Now go about and undo my older sisters' braids. That is where these men's hearts have been placed. Go out of doors; shape snow in your hands; go and make nine snowballs. These you will put into my older sisters' braids here." So when the youth came back, he undid the oldest sister's braid; there lay the heart of that man. The youth took it, and placed the lump of snow into her braid. Theurepon he placed back this man's heart for him. Thus he did with all those women, restoring their hearts to all these men. When he had replaced them all, he came back and lay down. Then the little old woman rose from the couch and went outside. After a short time she came back into the lodge. Truly, she was beautiful now, a young girl, having gone and put away her disguise of old age. "Now then, just before dawn we shall start," the youth's wife said to him; "Halfway we shall camp," she told him. When he was still asleep, the woman, who was now his wife, nudged him. "Now we are going!" she told him; "Truly, our eldest sister is fleet of foot." Then the women arose, all of them taking away their men's blanket-robes. The lad went off and waited for them ahead, in the direction they were taking. Behind a tree the youth took his stand. Matsikihkwawis came running in the lead. He struck her on the leg, breaking the bone. "Is this the way you imitate your grandmother when she takes a husband?" he said to his sister-in-law. 1 See preceding note. 448 448 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII wdi'Itsita'w iniwi'n as kdpts-nelhk6'8it MAt8sdkihkwd'w'is. 'wa'Ihtsitaw nis~'hkcanauw! t&'2 min d'wih-y~h-melhkdw''tsin wfta2 -ne'fmun?' indi'win anuh UhS~'Meh~sn. ini'win a niwdk as p4'tuhnet MAtsilkihkwa'wis. ini'win-pih pi&s-yd'h-WAskj'pahtuk inu,'h apxdhni'hseh. sa?d'h kUs-1kisisi'AhkWA'nin inuh IIMe'I8An. k&'slcusitu.'a2 akuh ina'niWAk, iniwi'n ni p&'1hpis s niitspine'htsiketu'a2 kAtd,'w. '1kita'wats-mi~'tsiIhsi?; wa'2naw a-p'iAta'u'Akit?' ind'win apiilni'hseh. kay#~'s-ani'h-mi'tsih~situa?, 'nahi'w, 'nimi'2,. kute'2nas lka'k6h is~'1kiyen, a-ldik&'Iit~w *~'h-ayum niptd'nehsi'A~bsem. ay6'2 a-kand'pu~mikh,' ind'win vmj'hsAn as mad'tyAt. iniwi'n-pih di'nim-pi'Atd'tua2. iniwi',n sa~ye'h as kisisi'Alhkitua2 s 5nii'hlkuhd~'hk~ua? mitsim~,'hseh. lkawi'n utii'Isamanan MAtsikihklwd'wis uta'nini'AMAn. iniwvi'n dind'tsin nuh pdihzni'hseh; 'ini't kiw-ind'pumat k6'hkumeh -s ki-wv~'1imiwdt?' - icAt tsiw-ahsiimd'tsin. 'wd'Ibtsita kdt'2tin nisj'hlanaw! t&'2 ap-y5'h-mehlcdw&'tsin ani'nulh mAAls'2-apahni'IbsAn?' indi'win uhs8j'mehsAn. nahM"w, sa~a'h misi'k tsay~1k-wd'pah, 'nahM'w, ini? s8a~ye'h as matsi'yalb,' iku,'ahin wj'wAn; 'na'wahlkik Ikina-pi'Ata2,' ilku'ahin; 'd'niwd'lc pdi'8ehkaw MAtstlikilcwa'wis as 1k~s-p6AkikcAtd'hAt.' iniwi'n-2i& mdi'hkAmAtua? utdklum~wii'wan uta'ni'ni'Amowawan. 'hd2tu'lkun anuh wipuwiyd'nan! na's icAt ak5'wAlk; winu'a2 ap pdki~ttsi'WAlk,' ind'win nuh apdhni'1&sel&. iniwi'n-pih misi'lk kayd~'2t-nekWc'situa2 akuh mita'mnuksAk ni'dinAn. lcayj8-Mdtsi'Anit, ini2-pilh mni'wawl tsiw-amd'tinatsin aninuh iniwi'n-pikh wdni'pahtulkua? kuh ind'niwAkc, niitspinahtsikce'tua?. naya'wahkick, ini'win-pil& payiAta'tva2 misi s w~'lkinit. wahkgtdt~'sipek iniwi'n as a'2tik kin6'htem. a'ni-pi~Atd'tua? adsipd'hklch, 6sa'matin u~hkii'na'n, mamd'tsi~taw uhkdc'nan ini'lcuk tsi-ne~na'twa?. w4'hta y6'wi~n a sinalcusi't nAIha'2s ii'sipeh. ispd'mi"akh, uwd'2naw ispad'mia4 iniwi'n as wi'lkitua2. ii'? tek, aw-isi'2tAtua? s aw-ilhku,'ahtawetua2?, iniwi'n-pilh inuh yd'hpits uhsj'mimaw ana'hkiAn pis3-akpi',kitah; a1h1vu'Axtawakan isina'kwAtin. 'nah&'wv, y6's niw s aw-aiyarnd'hlciyen, ini's niw kinu,'a? ap Pisdyandi'1kikvun, md'wa niw i,'htahsiyak. min? nisi'k s a-PiAtdi'ydk,' ind' win we matan. ta"?, iniwi'n-pih mayct'tSiAt, apdlhni'hseh, iniwi'n niw uti'k, akuh ina'niwAk as inim-sakd'khki~tAtiua2 anulh apahni'hSAn. wj'ki lcdh ptWta'Alin ini's wAhketd'sipeh. nalhd'w, ini2-jpih payi'lhtilkawane'titua? ini'h kjne3'ltem as i'nsm-api'2tawatua2 umatem5'Ihsemuwa'wAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 449 Then truly in a great rage was Matsikihkwawis. "Truly, I hate him! Where in the world did she go and pick up this fellow-dog of hers?" she said to her youngest sister. Then slowly enough did Matsikihkwawis walk. The youth then ran all the way back home. His sister had by this time finished her cooking. When those men awoke, at once they were going to start in pursuit. "Let us eat before we start. They can't get very far, can they?" the youth said to them. So then they went and ate. When they had eaten, "Now, sister, if anything anywhere happens to me, this eagle of mine will keep giving its call. He will keep guard over you," he said to his sister, as he departed. So then they went in pursuit. In time they reached the place where the women had again made camp. They finished cooking and put the meat on spits. Matsikihkwawis gave her man no food. Then the youth said to her, "Is that what you learn by watching your grandmother when she takes a husband?" - because she gave him nothing to eat. When the next dawn was near, "Now we shall start," his wife told him; "At noon we shall arrive; slowly enough is Matsihkihkwawis traveling with her broken leg." Then they took away the blanket-robes from their husbands. "Leave those robes! Let them wear their robes. They too feel the cold," said the youth to them. Thereupon again those five women became very angry. When they had departed, he roused all those men from their sleep. "Get up! We are pursuing our wives!" he said to them. The men jumped up and started in pursuit. At noon they came to the place where the women dwelt. Up on top of a cliff there stood a long-lodge. When they reached the foot of the cliff, there was a vast number of bones, human bones, of as many people as they must have slain. Truly (steep), like this in shape, was that solitary cliff. High, high, far up above, was where they dwelt. How were they to climb up? Then that youngest one threw down a reed-mat; it was in form like a ladder. "Now, exactly where I step, you too will have to take each step, as many as you are; only in this way will you arrive," he said to his companions. Then the youth started, and behind him came those men, clinging to him. At last they reached the top of the cliff. Then they went, one after the other, into that long-lodge, each taking his seat by his wife. 29 450 450Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'ini'? kdih wt'nah hii"n~w 9'h-umms as wVhkihe'siyik ys as pi'htikeydic,' ilku'ahin inuh apdkhni'hSeh Anih Ma"'teMo'IbseMAn. sa~yti'h ulhts'muwin inul& We' YAW'kel& as nit~md'tsin anuh MAts8'1kilkwd'WihSAn s sdwd'ham~wd'tsin. 'ay62 md'milk niw tdpii'nak nit&'n, ahpa'n niw as kiw-indni'hit as 1ki-pi'tuwit inil& md'mik way~'hki~taman.' wAtut'hsiwan aku'ahamin; iniwi'n d'hpakjnd'ts8in anuh k6'niAn; ini'? tdl& dnd'nilhtah, mnamd'tsi?td'w utdlh as ii'wilk. sa?yd'h misi'lk nilku't pehlk6'nam~wd',win usd'kpan, iskft'tiah as apu'tJhSit, islkii'tiah as 'mahkd'hsiwapit. ini? ni mdi'waw dlhpinan&'tsin as mitd'tahsinit anuh utd'nan. ta'?, md'waw kay~s-pehk~nam~wd'tsin ninuh usei'kipan~wawan, iniwi'n-pih lkd'taw-aku,'ahah anul& utapu'Anan. ta'?, yii'hpits d?tiyapdwd'wanin anuhUwAtfI'hsiWAn. wd'ki? tfdh a-mZ'tsik? ta"?, k'flniAn a WiWAII. 'ndAh!' ~wd'hin inuh We' YAWekeh; 'Wd'ki2 tdh aw-ahsd'makua2 ~'h-akum nuh&'hkAk?' umiiti'h utd'hpinAmin; ahkdi'hkun kay~s-akc6ndi'tsin: 'm~'nan kAt nitd'Ihsamd'wVAk!' mamdi'tsi~taw uslc~'sikun d'wiwAnin. 'IkAn wi'nah ni'na2 inih nitd'nahtsildini'nawAn,' ind' win inuh apdhni'hsgeh. 'yd', wd'htaw nisg'Akanaw! wdsW'kiAn anuA payind'tsin?2' ind'win nuI&utii'nan. ini'win keh as ydkb-sakci'hlka?tuk inik umft'tih mami'tsi~taw uskcg'hsikun. 'tsiyd'w wind'mehkwAnAn pd'?tewAn kAt nitei'IsamaWAlc,' 9wa'hin w'11 YAWekehl. pd'lhkunali inil& umii'tikh, rnehku'AskAtayd'wAk a'w'&wAnin. 'lkAn wi'nah ni'na'? inih nitd'nahtsikdni'nawan mehku,'ASkatayd'WAlk as pas MU'AleiItua2.' ini'? led1 as lejs-ni'hni?tAt nuk wj' yAwkelel. iniwi'n-pih leayd?ts-wZ'?sake'sit; sileana'h niw niint'ahin. 'ta? d'siileyen?' ind'win MAtsikihlewd'wis. 'wayVd'pisle'nit pisj'w mu'ale, PAs nimd'lhnuw-im,' &wd'hin wg'yAtt'~leh.w 'ta? d'ts?' ind'win nuh pdhni'lhseh. CWA yd'p$8le'ninit psse'WAn MU~'atSinl, PA8 MdlinUW-i'win.' 'nahd'w, nina-nd'ndw,' iwai'hin pdlninfhsel&. pdn d'win mayct'tsiAt. nimZ'waIh niw ind'htuahin; iniwi'n as pind'tsin WAya'piske'ninit pisj'wAn. nayawa-'tsin inuh we' yAweleeh, wdlbtsitd'w iniwi'n as kdi?ts-m6'le. 'wd?siZ'liWAn ani'nuh payinii't-sin Z' h-a yurn as leitd'mahih nehsZ'h?' ind'win. aniwi'n teh ulbsZ'MehsAn ptse'WAn we' yAwekeib. aniwi'n teh led'h nap d'hsam~wdt anuA apdhni'h8An inul& we' yAwjkehb. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 451 "So now at any rate you have managed to come into the house," the youth was told by his wife. Soon the old woman of the house1 called out, bidding Matsikihkwawis come have her hair combed. "I truly love this daughter of mine, who always makes me glad, bringing me that whose taste I truly like." She lifted some red coals from the fire; on them she threw the lump of snow, for she thought it was a human heart. Soon she unbound another daughter's braid, to do her roasting in the flame, to cook on the coals. Thus she did with all ten of her daughters. Then, when she had undone all their braids, she wanted to lift out her roasts. But there! the glowing coals had been entirely put out by water. What was there for her to eat? For it was only snow. "Look at that!" said the old woman; "What shall I feed these sons-in-law?" She took up her bag; when she had hung up the kettle, "Suppose I give them berries to eat!" They were human eyes. "Not at all do we eat that kind of food," said the youth to her. "Yah, truly, I do hate him! What kind of a creature is this she has brought?" she said to her daughter. So then she put away her bag of human eyes. "I suppose I shall have to give them dried squash," said the old woman. When she untied her bag, leeches were those things. "Not at all is that our way of eating, to eat leeches." So then the old woman gave up. Thereupon she became very ill; she was almost dying. "What is the matter with you?" Matsikihkwawis asked her. "If I ate the White Lynx, I should get well," said the old woman. "What does she say?" said the youth to her. "If she ate the White Lynx, she says she would get well." "Very well, I shall fetch it," said the youth. Off he went; only a short time he was gone; then he came with the White Lynx. When the old woman saw it, in truth she wept bitterly. "What sort of creature has she brought here, to the undoing of my little brother?" she said to her daughter. For that lynx was the old woman's younger brother. To it the old woman, while it lived, had fed those youths. 1The mother of the ten sisters. 29* 452 452 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII way&'pal& sa~a'h misi'k Ikefits-wZ?8ake'siwin; saka'nah niw nipu.'ahin. 'ta2 d'siki yen?' indi'win MAts~ikikwa'wis. 'wA yd'p'tskenit kite'miw mu'ak, pas nimd'lhnuw-im.' C&A Ickiki-sd'sanalki?nisim! td'2 aw-uhtdi'nalkih way&'pislcenit 1kita'Miw?' 'sana'kesi2 nuh kit#!'miw? nina-na'ndaw,' itwa'hin nul& pahn~'l~eIh. pdn d'win mayct'siAt; nime'waI& niw ini'win as pind'tsin wAya'pisiceninit Icitam~'wAn. wdi'htsitaw misi'lk iniwi'n as kd'ts-m6'k inuh wg' yAwekek. 'ini'? kdh mii'waw nehs'mehsAk as md'2tsinatuakd' yen! td'2 -nakah ap-uhtdnd'tsin anuh payind'tsin as kitd'ma/4'htua2 nelisg'ini'?. na/id'w, iniwi'n-pih d'sit lcay'2ts-w~?sakce'sit nuh apdhlni'/&5eh. sa~yd'/h mi'silk mAtsikcili/wd'wis ni'pi~tawin as awZ'/h-lut&6'muna'tsin. 'ta? d'siki'yen?' '~nipdne/bsi'A/isimAn wi' yAk nii'tuwit, pAs nimd'/hnuw-im.' '/h&w, sanii'/esi? inn/i pind'/isialh? nna-nd'ndw,' Zwd'/iin mnuh we' yAwekehi. a/ipdn d'win maya'tiAt as niind'tsin pina/15i'ahb5n. lkd'2ts8i/ inimpiAtd'wipa'hitul nn/h we' yAwekeib, i'niwinjpi/i wi'nah wdtsi'Animi't&/i as k&2s-m~lkind'tsin ni/i wg' yAwe/ce'/blun, misikcanuh pinad&8i'AhsAn kawin nw~'hi/iha'nan s /cAta'w-ta'pinat~'in. ini'? lcd/i s ydli-/c'wdt nulh we'YAWeke/i. UnniMd'?siMAn ta'wAnin inn/i apd/ini'/iseh; 6td'/itani/i iniwi'n as kiw-apg't inn/i ma't8-nAma-'2s. sa~ye'/i misi'k s lcd'2ts-w9'2sake'8it nuh pahni'/se/h.,ninamd'2seman Wi'yAkc nd'tuwit, pas nimd'/innw-im.' 'nahid'w, nna-ndmij'w inn/i nAMa'2s,' gwd'/iin W6'yAwjkce/i /ipdn d'win wiyd-pi'pd'/tu/, pj'/ti/cepa'/itu/ As lcAta'w-awe'/tdpina'tsgin anu/i nAmd'?sAn. wd/itsita' misi'lc iniwi'n as /cd'2tsne?nilcnt nu/i wa'kUh~SAn misilc mu/i pind'hisie/isAn. ini'win d'nisi/id'tua2 a/ikg'w as sk~'likce/; ini'win s awZ'/i-ne~na'tua? Ann/i we' yAWeice/i/cnn. ini'? lcd/i kAt a's piAt w~'lcwa? nuli we' yAwkell, 'na/id'w,' owd'in apd/ini'/ise/i ind'mehk/iwAn s natfimd'tsin, 'kcAtd'8 icAt aw9'/i-salcd'hikApj' WAk a/cn'm mitd'muhisAlc. /c~~pin y6's niw /cAta'-tAna'situa2, kAn wi' yAk ind'niw unAw-ct'wenAn,' Zwd'hiin pd/in'/ie/i. ini2-pi/i winu'a? nd'me/ikiwAlc ts8$-pi8-MdtSi'Atva2 as /cd?ts-rn3'we'?ne/i. y6'm as mima'/cwApitua2, y5'win-nikc6/ sayd-'/capitna2 ini's a?sA'nih. nitSi'Aca/i niw as /cd'?ts-n6'wen~e/i, iniwi'n s wd'pesitna?; wdhit~ita' niw as /cisipisitua2. as m6'/i/aia/i ina'/cah/ini? as kc&sawiZ'h-apihid'tua? ind'meh/ciwA/c inn/i mitd'mn/isAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 453 On the next day she again became very ill; she was at the point of death. "What is the matter with you?" Matsikihkwawis asked her. "If I ate the White Porcupine, I should get well." "Alas, you speak of hard things! Whence are we to get the White Porcupine?" "Is that porcupine so hard to get? I shall go get it," said the lad. Off he went; in a short while he brought the White Porcupine. In truth the old woman again wept bitterly. "So now all my younger brothers have been destroyed for me! Where did she get her hands on this creature she has brought, to the undoing of my brothers?" That was all. Now the youth in turn became very ill. Soon Matsikihkwawis again arose and went over to question him. "What is the matter with you?" "If someone fetched me my eagle, I should get well." "Is that eagle so hard to get? Why, I shall fetch it," said the old woman. Off she went to fetch the eagle. When the old woman came running close to that place, the eagle sounded the alarm. Then the fox came running out and fiercely attacked the old woman, and she did not succeed in getting hold of that eagle. So back home went the old woman. The youth had a fish; on his settee in the wigwam that fish used to lie. Now again very ill grew the youth. "If someone fetched me my fish, I should get well." "Very well, I shall go get that fish," said the old woman. Off she started, on the run, and ran inside the wigwam to go seize that fish. Then again in truth did the fox and the eagle sorely maltreat her. They chased her to the edge of the earth, and out there they killed the old woman. So then, when the old woman did not return to her dwelling, the youth called to the Thunderers, saying, "Now, let these women go stay in some fixed place. If they remain dwelling even here, no men will be left." Thus spoke the youth. Thereupon the Thunderers started forth and there was a great wind. The women shook themselves where they sat, like this, until they sank into the rock up to here. But as the great wind kept blowing, they were carried away into the air; truly they flew along with great speed. Over into the east the Thunderers went and set those women. 454 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nahei'w, ini? ma'waw. arni'nul& tdh m5'nipiAnawi'hsihkica1h, - y6'? kiw-d'yahlcwapi'kah, — ani'nuh kiw-edyakutd' kin, ani'? we'ne?nowa'wvAn alcuh Mita'Mulb8Ak. nine'? tdl& niwi'hsWAn rnAskWaWa'nahlkwatok; ini? kaye'8-pisnahM'w, lkis&'ka?samii'nine 'MUAW as m6'hkahah nakah wdhtap~'ydk~ Mitd'MUh8Ak. sanawii'? niw sawd' nimi'yah s &'timinalcuk kayes-isj'1iyekc y5s ahlki'hil& as k&s-pima'tesiydik. sawd-ni'md'hkun Z'h-ay~um inei'niw; nd&'tam6'hlcun a-mitsimdi'nibtah inih ki'lkitUAn. kinu'a2 ap, indi'mekiWAk, Ikinu,'a? ap kisalca?samanine'muAw nilcut uhbpu~'AkAn ne?nima'w. misik ZWh-ydm 8s9'nien lkinaw-utei'hjnne'MUAW; kim~'nilkuaw; nd'tam5'hkun Misi'k as a-yd'h-tdi'pinah sii'n yen. imi'?. 107. THE WOMEN OF THE EASTERN SKY. - SECOND VERSION. (nayd'Iht~w) Md'w, mitdi'muh wj'kIi win; uh8Z'me1hsAn ti'wanin, apdhnilhseh. mamd'tsi?taw-uhp~d'niAn mama'nalhewin; ini? kiw-ahsamii'tsin uhsg'meh8An, kAtaw-k6'8ikiha'tsin. ahk1c'?sik me?niki'nin nuh apdhni'Ihseh, di'yukpe'nehket mAma'tsi?taw-uhpa'niAn, nikc6'td& umd~'?tibvwAn Usi'htuwAtsin uhI~s'melhsAn. 'y6's niw ndni&'tikce'nun,'k1iw-ind~'win as lci-ma'tsiAt inuhi mitd'muh. pcdpZ'pimu'tsiket mnuh apdh~ni'hise/, nilk6'td8, kay&s-pyA'nit umj'hisAn, anui W~'8kin5'/8An as ne?na'tsin 1kining'skapi'kunewAn, pistsi'hkliwe'pahitawin inu/i apci/ni'hse/i. 'urnef'? alku'atsihi as Ikj8-pis-a'?nak-.' sii'lit6'hnet nu/i mitti'mu/i, siwas ape' win inuh/ivwe'skcin6'/8ehi, Cd neh/hin~/ i? ice/ sa'?ye/i as td'p-ne?natsin wj'skin5'/iAn!' wAyei'pa/i, mayei'tsiAt u/ipd'nehklet, misi'lc payi'At, iniwi'n-pi/i misi'lc way.~'/tam~wii'tsin: adA, neh8sa'?, ni/kut Wa'pus8 kiw-ind'w; taw,' inii'win. inilh-pi/i tsi-ma'ts'iAt nAtona/ia'tsin ann/i wd'pusun sas~/ki'yuhi, nilc6tei'8 lAniwi'n 8d'/kici/ii/. 'ay5'tsiwAlk 1di'/ tsiw-ii'wit!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 455 Now, that is all. Those string-like objects, - of about this length, - which hang ~in the tamarack-swamps, they are the hair of those women. My name is Red-Cloud-Woman; hither from that place I came to dwell in human form. They are my sisters. Lo, I make unto you a burnt offering of tobacco, Women who Dwell in the Eastern Sky. Graciously take pity on us, now that I have told of how you fared when here on earth you dwelt. Take pity on this man here; help him that he may remember this tale. And you, O Thunderers, to you too I make a burnt-offering of a pipeful of tobacco. And this piece of money you are to accept. He gives it to you. Help him that he may secure more money. Amen. 107. THE WOMEN OF THE EASTERN SKY. - SECOND VERSION. (Nayahtow) A woman dwelt somewhere; she had a younger brother, a boy. She would dig Indian potatoes1; that was what she gave her brother to eat; she wanted to bring him to manhood. At last the boy grew up, as she gathered ground-nuts; and then at one time she made a bow for her brother. "Stay here and attend to the house," that woman would say to him, as she went away. The boy kept shooting at things hit or miss, until once, when his sister came home, he had killed a little bird, a chickadee, and came running with noise. In he came; "Oh, Sister, I have killed a creature!" "Is that so?" she said to him; "And where is it?" "Out there by the door is where I laid it when I came home."2 The woman went outside; there lay the bird, which she brought into the lodge. "So now my little brother has come to the point of killing birds!" On the next day she went to gather ground-nuts, and when she came back, she taught him further, "Now, Little Brother, there is creature called Rabbit; in the brush he stays; his ears are set close together; long are his ears; and he runs very fast," she told him. At once he set out to look for that rabbit in the brush, and soon, there sat one crouching. "This, now, must be it!" 1 Ground-nuts, Apios tuberosa. 2 The customary procedure of a man who brings game. 456 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII pimi'titsi'Ihsine'nikc, pimi'win1. iniwin 8 kahldi'mitsi'2tAt. umd'2 -tikCuAp kayjs-1ki'2tapt'nah, iniwin s 1hc~'~itundi'1pina'tsin, pisutct'tsima'tsin. payi'Atat wj'k~wa2, pi'hticewin. 'J', nimj'2, ni~c~s-ne~naw nuh w&'pus!' 8a'kisi'palhtawin inuh mitd'muh; siwas sehkj'hsininb wd'pus. ini'win a'yutsima'tsin uhsj'meh8An. C'A, neIhsg'h ni? Ikeh 8a'2 ye/h as t4'p-nap6'p-mind'/hit! dA, nehisg'2, misi'Ik niku't apii'/isus kiw-ind'w; pape'wilcAta'w; mamd'/ike/itew; nik6'tlsk IAniWi'n niw ke~tsi'hi nay~'puwinit. iini'pumikut, pimg'tsikapu~winit, utdi'h as tana'ni/itamuwa'tsin, iniwi'n-nu/i padmu'at~in. mim-/dhlt i'newin; tefp&'pame'win, wa'pakutsi/i. mintwin s kw' pa/atul. kAfliwin payitiwd'pa/ituk pi'Miike'pa/ituk. C4,nimj'2, nilcj's-ne~naw nuhi aPd'/isU8 tsi-ki'w-indi' tii'2sikan lcayes-MAMa'l, mdts3yA'tva2, siwaS 8e/ilc'/isinin apd'/isn, winane~'htsiket inu/i mit4'muhi. iniwi'n-pi/i way4'p-ne~na'tsi'n pd'/i8usun; iniwi'n sa2 ye/i sWa'8kini'nit. isj'lci/ ninA's nahia'2s as i'yahi? kAsa'2 rnAma'tsi~taw kutd'2nas8 u~ts-i'nan?' pis-nikut pi8-ne'2natsin ni/cut. inim-utdmdi'nihitam rnAMa'tsitawAn IcAt s lcehil'nawa,'tsin. payi'At wZ'k6wa2, iniwin-pi/h pdi'mim-se/i'mi'tsi/isinu'n!' indi'win uhi~'rehiSAn; 'kxn kiwiind'niminine 'nan mi/i dndi'nihitAMAn.' ~mi'tsihisinun. kcina'W-isiAM mAina'tsi~tsawAk. ni'8uku'naka/i mini nim&'wan.' utsi'kwaya'nan di'wiwanin upZ'/itsi~nimdwii'nan; misi'lc utd'kum, utst'kuculc'MAc &'wiwin ni/i uti'lcum. ni'sulcu'naka/i, 'na/id'w, ini2 s a-matsi' yen. ayalcn'AMisinnn yomn aw-ind'nan; lcinei'pim tdh/ wi'na/i, lcWspin icAt ~pe/iti'wi yen. nei'wa/iki'k 11 Right fist clapped into left palm. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 457 Where it sat with its flank exposed, he shot it, and it flopped over, belly up. He untied the string of his bow and, tying the animal round the throat, dragged it home. When he reached their dwelling, he entered. "Oh, Big Sister, I have killed that rabbit!" The woman ran out: there lay a rabbit. Then she kissed her little brother more than once. "So now my little brother is old enough to provide me with broth! Now, Little Brother, there is yet another creature; Deer he is named; his legs are thin; his ears are big; he runs very fast he is shy; he, too, dwells in the brush." "I see!" he answered her. At once he set out, to seek it here and there in the brush, and soon, there it stood, close by. As it stood and looked at him, with its side turned hither, then, where he surmised its heart to be, in that place he shot it. It started to run; it saw him, and tumbled over. He ran home. With noise he came suddenly running into the lodge. "Oh, Sister, I have killed that creature you say is named Deer!" "Oh, pleased am I that now my little brother has reached the age of killing game!" She took her knife, and they went; there lay the deer; the woman skinned and cut up the carcass. So now he had begun to kill deer; he was now a young man. Then once, as he was hunting, he chanced upon the thought: "How is it that we are alone? Can it really be that there are no people in any place?" He had no joy of his hunting. In the evening, when he came home, he brought only one piece of game that he had killed. He stayed obsessed by the thought that he knew of no people. When he reached the dwelling, he went and lay down. When she gave her brother food, he did not eat. "Do eat," she said to him; "I am not unaware of what is in your thought." "Surely things cannot be so strange that there is no such thing as a human being?" "Eat your meal. You shall go to the people. In two days you shall set out. I shall first make your blanket-robe and your tobaccopouch." A bag of fisher-fur was his tobacco-pouch, and his blanket-robe was of fisher-skin. When the second day came, "Very well, now you will go forth. Heed carefully this that I tell you; you will die, if you do not heed me. At noon you will track some men; ten will be their number. Upon a tree they will sit down to rest. The oldest will sit in front; 458 458Pubilications, American Ethnological Society 'Vol. XII ap~'t; utVh 1kinaw-inim-ap*'m. mitU'mukhsAn pimj'nisiha'wAlk. kAtani'pi~tA'tua2, ini2-pih a-kb'kitit inuh u~na'hsimaw, "nalui'w, ta2 aw-i ndwa'maki A?" - "ha', kehs~mehsinaw aw-a'wiw!" - "adw) aw-Z'wadk. ini? mita'tah nikut-jn~'h as aw-d'wiyek. ini'? api't8 4'htahsi'tua? Ikikuk mitd'muh8Ak. naha'w, ini?-pih-ni'pi~tatua2 kAta'W. ini'? niw as aw-di'nawihisi'tua?. hM'w. ini?-pih me?tiku'ahseh a-p6'hku~na'man s aw-ini-84'2siwa'hatua?. ini? as a-wZ'hkihtukua? s8 a-nZ'pi?tAtua?. ini?-pih, "&', wdiwd'nin, kehlkimi'n niw kehsei'rin ki.pi8-Atd'Mik-unaw!" ini?-pih tsi-wdip&'wanetitua?.' wd'hta ke'?siwin; ini-kawa'tiWAkin ind'niuWAk h&'w, ini?-pih tsi-mindt'?ami'hket inuh apahni'1hseh. ini?-pih kdi'kisyAna'mit; inih-pih tsi-pis-ap'itd'win. kayV'skant'tipa'hkah, kAni'win niw wdpa'hpitua? aku~h mita'-,mu~h8Ak; me'win-pih niw dh'tand'hpitua?. IMA mainawa'ts niw kin5'nihlkwAsiwve?! hd'w, wa'pah kinawAtaMo'naWAk.' waya'pah mi'p, wd~pe'wani'titua?, pdi'pimi'pahtu'kuta?, 8akana'h nayii'wahkik, iniwin s ni-nd'mikua? 8 ki's-ni-wi'kitua?. ha'w, iniwin teh s tsi-y~h-kei'?tS-McdtSYA'tua?. Idi'w, nik6-'tds kdh sa?ya'h imi's d' kUtsih, iniwi'n-pilb nuh apdihni'hseh umd'?tikwAn kayjs-nd'paOkihsi'nin; ini? tsiW-A'pet, ki'Asit. hii'w, akikuh mitad'muh8Ak inu~h pis-mind'?tam~'hket, sinawd'? niw j'nuuw uta'hpikAtcd'?taw, nih utdini'hpis umAs ki-pii'pehneh uhpa'niah, tsiw-ahpj'hsehkAt. ini? sa?yd'h ta-pis-pd'8itahCI'tsin nuh me?tikWAn, ini?-pih uhkii'hlcwAni'h tsi-pakam&'tsin inuh apdhni'hseh. 'wvj'kikcun!' md' win. pd'mim-unikdi'tua? kin6'Ihtem, nimW'iah niw ta-8~'?tawakcin; ini? s ki,'sihtukua?. iniwin teA kayZ's-ik~t nuhb umZ'h8An: `ma-md'wLaw isku'A?t8 imi? as a-seAhk~'hAsiA; mnu'? aw-isi'yen. kind'pim tdh wi'nah niw; ind'niwAn i'wane'wak kuh mitd'muhsAk. UMA'S s a-ni pi'ydk, ini? ni4'waw utd'h~waw ni? as a-mamu'ahtua?; ini'? teA niw as kHsa'hpine'tuas?. piAta'wihi'kutua? anih uki'ahs~wa'wan, kWs-nipdt inuh ind'niw, 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 459 in the rear you will take your seat. They are pursuing some women. When they are about to arise, the oldest will speak, 'Now, what relation shall he be to us ' - 'Oh, let him be our youngest brother!' - 'Very well!' they will say. So then there will be eleven of you. That is exactly the number of those women. Then they will try to arise. They will be unable. Thereupon you will break off a switch and strike them one after the other, as with a lash. Then they will be able to arise. Then, 'Good! It is lucky for us that our little brother caught up with us.' Then they will start along, in single file." It1 was truly cold; the men suffered from the frost as they went along. "Oh, we shall freeze to death!" they said. Then the lad took the lead. He puffed hot breath into the air, and it became warm. Then, at sunset, "Let us camp!" When darkness had fallen, then those women began to laugh; from over yonder, but a little ways, came the sound of their laughter. "We are camping but little short of them! Tomorrow we shall overtake them." Early the next morning they started in single file, running without pause, until, almost at noon, they saw the place where the women had camped. So now from that place they went on at a good rate. Then, as the sun hung low in yonder sky, then that lad strung his bow; into the distance he shot an arrow: over ahead there, a tree2 lay across the path; there he placed himself in hiding. The one of those women who was in the lead as they came, bestirred her legs without pause; her skirt was flung up to her breast, so fast she went. Then, as she was about to skip across that tree, the lad struck her on her shin. "Pitch camp!" he told her. "Sister, let us pitch camp!" When they set about building their shelter, a long-lodge, then only a short while were they busy with it; very soon they had finished it. But this was what he had been told by his elder sister, "One will be lying farthest at the end; to her you will go. But you are as good as dead; these women drag men along as the hunter drags game. There where you sleep, there all of them will have their hearts taken from them, and that will be the end of their misfortunes. When the women have brought them to where their 1The narrator here lapsed from the sister's prediction to the actual event; he later noticed this with some consternation. The lapse is the more natural, because it is not uncommon to take for granted the fulfilment of such predictions and pass directly on to what happened afterwards. 2 I. e., the arrow, transformed by magic. 460 460 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII inuh we' yAwekehko'hseh, pimi'-un~t, - usi'Icipanih ini'? as awa'?tulc nuh mitdt'muh nih utd'h inuh indi'niw, - ini'2-pih a-pehkdnam~uii'tsin nuh uktd'nan inih usdi'kipan. h&'w, ini? s d'w-a?tik inih u~td'h. "wdwd'nin nita'h, ke'?neh nap6'p as a-mind'kd" ini?-pih a-pa?si'sah; ni?-pih A-mahkd'hsiwA'pit. iniwin &'lkut UMZ'h8An. pi8-Ma'tsiAt, kayi'skani'tipdi'hkah ini'win-pih payi'Atua? kuh ind'niWAk. id, nUh MAtsi'hlkiwis U?nd'hsimaw w~ts8-ahpZ'htesiwAn, imi? tsiw-inim-is-kand'wihe'titua?. hd'w, inuh, apdhni'hseh, Ikay&s-nipd'hitih, iniWi'n-pih d'8iAt imi's slku'a~ts. nis sd'hlkihsih, hi'u', w9'yAw#jIkehlc6hseh! 'hd'w, nulsi'h, k1An-a'? lkinei'winan dhp'htesi yen?' 'lkA'n!' ind'win; 'kind'? keh niw pits-isiyen!' C5A, hd', nuhsi'h, nitii'wats-sdkesim!' hd'w, utd'hpatah w~yAw~Ikehk53'hseh, td'?, nim-mamiAtoi'win. nik6'tds Pis-uhnd'?num~win; hd'w, pii'ki?nisiwin. pis-pi'htiket, md'?, kP~se'hseh, pits-sehk~hsih! 'wiyA'k kici8-Wi~haMA AkWAt? Wi'yAk as Iki-y5's-ki-piAt, kay&snd'witsin, ini'? niw kiw-is-d'nawe'nihtah. - nahd'w,' iku'ahin, 's a-mdk-nipd'ydlc, ini?-pih a-mdtsi'yah. hd'w, a-rndtsi'yah, UMA'S tdh nit6nike'nun-eh a-mi~'tan; nina-niIdi'tdn.' hd'w, ini'? kah as nipd'tua?. iniwin-pih misik wj'htaMA'1kut: 'umAs wd'pah nine'? nd'?tAm awini-pahki'Atawan; slkAs ni'w ihpih kina-pdpi'hin,.' iniwin d'kut. k~n~'wiwin. hd', ndpd'tua?, kawin undpd'nan. hd'w, nik~td's as a wik, ini? as tsi-ni'pdt. ini?-pih tsi-mamu'Akut inih utd'h. k6'skusit, m6'sehtawin niw icAn kd'k~h utd'h as d'wik. ini'win-pih ku/'niAn kayds-misa'hkutend'tsin d'sina'kuah utd'h; ni?-pih tdh tsi-pehk6 -namuwd'tsin inih usd'kipAn; siwas aOte'win ini'h utdh. kayg'8 -mAmak, mi-k6'htamin. hd'w, ini?-pih kuni'An aninuh ini's1 tsikehpt9't61k. hd'w, misi'k nipd't, k6'skusit, wd'nipa? ta'muh8Ak? nuh mAtsi'kkiwis pi'kutsi'hnAk iniwin-pih tsi'w-a?tuk UMAs ke'?tsih; ini?-pih tdh inih tsiw-isi'hnituk inih und'h, tsi-mdk-ki'8kikind'win td'1h nap Mitdf'MUhSAn. 'hif'y, kik6s-nikd'nike?!' ind'win nuh apdbn~'hseh. iniwin-pih tsi-nit5'niket inis; mi'tsimi'hseh y6-'win d'hkik, nikd'taMA'kut wj'wAn, mdmd'nawats patski'sam~wd'tsin wg'matAn. ta'?, ini'?-pih tsi-wd-pa'wani'titua?. skas ni'w ihpih inim-wdh-pahkd'kunehah. 'lui'w, y61? kdh ni'nah pd'minisihak!' 1Right fist clapped into left palm. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 461 mother is, then each one, when her man has gone to sleep, will say to her mother, 'I bring you a man!' Then that old woman, arising from her couch, - into the braid of her hair is where each woman will place that man's heart, - then will she undo her daughter's braid. That is where the heart will be. 'Thank you, my daughter, for that your elder brother will have broth to drink!' Then she will split it and roast it on the coals." Thus was he told by his sister. When he had set out, after dark, those men arrived. The oldest of the brothers with the woman of like age, and so on, that was the way they took their mates. So now this lad, when all had gone to bed, went off to the far end of the place. When he lay down, there indeed, lay an old woman! "Why, child, do you not see how old I am?" "No!" he said to her, "It is to you I have come!" "Oh, very well, Grandson; but first I must go outside a moment!" So the little old woman went groaning, with her cane. Then came the sound of her coughing; and now her voice was strong. When she came into the lodge, lo, she was a young girl who came and lay down! "Did someone tell you this? Whenever anyone comes here, as soon as he lays eyes upon me, he is wont to give up. - Now then," she told him, "while you are asleep we shall start out. When we have gone, then do you feel about here for something to eat; I shall leave something." So then they lay down to sleep. Then again she informed him, "Tomorrow I shall be the first to leave the common trail; a little ways from there I shall await you," she said to him. There was snow on the ground. Now, when the others slept, he did not sleep. But at one time he must have fallen asleep. That was when she must have taken his heart. When he awoke, he felt that his heart was gone. Thereupon he moulded some snow in the shape of his heart; he untied her braid; there lay his heart. He took it and swallowed it. Then, thrusting in that lump of snow, he tied her braid. When he had again gone to sleep, and again awakened, gone were the women! The oldest of the brothers must have drawn close to him a piece of crumbly wood; he held his arm as if, alas, he were embracing a woman. "Up, we have been abandoned!" the lad called to them. He sought with his hand there; as long as this was the piece of meat his wife had left for him, and he cut off a morsel for each of his companions. Thereupon they marched away, one behind the other. A little ways thence her footprints branched from the trail. "Now this is the one I am pursuing!" 462 4(2 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl l Vol. XII s8kas ni'w ihpih iniwi'n d'pit mitd'muh. 'nalha'w, ayaku'Ami~sinun,' icu,'ahin; '~'h-inih uhsiyii'hlciw ini'2 aw-inim-isi'yah. UMA's niw tWe'napa'htah s aw-anii'hci yen ni'nah. p5'n lkutd'2nas and'pi nun!' y6'win niw d'sina'kusit inuh d'sipeh. mayatsyA'tua2, Iu'w, kd'2tin wdh-tdp&'pahtahb UMAs ay~'tuh, wdi'2nawv d'wiwin, mis ahkcZ'w. s mitsmdi'puma'tsin s d'yan4'hkinit, kAni'win Ikeh ni'w siw w~'kiwarn~'hseh a'2tik, ini-pi'htiket inuh mitti'muh. iniwi'n niw wi'nah ap ni-pi'htiket, sdsehkZ'hsi&, nuhd'hkapit. wdnintip4'hkah lkawi'n undpii'nan. nik6'tffs s nipdi'I&Ia8it, pineun6'win. sinawa'? niw ni'pi~ta'win, &su'akdm uki'yAn, We' yAWelkehlc6'hseh, ts'2tsipind'win. iniwin awjh-ts'2napuma'tsin inuh ind'niw. 'y&', nita'h, kitd'nini'2tAM!' pehk6namawa'win usdt'ki pan; siwas a~te'win inilh utid'h inuh ind'niw. nalhildi'ts utd'2sikan ii'pehta pa'?sisa'min; wAtfI'hs8iWAn aku'Ahamin, mahkd' hsiwa' pit. &na'pahtah nulh wZ'yAwjkeh, ininehldi'sit inuh k6'n, iniwin iS-a'2tiyApa'Walk. 'hya'h, Ihya'h, hya'h,' ~w&'Ihin, ' "ind'niw lcipi'tuAn," nitdi'k~pah ayum nitd'n!f' ini2 md'u'aw s kis-nehkd'sit. 'hu'h,' ejwd'hin, 'kini's keh kinaw-awdi'tukcim, nuhd' hI' wayci'pah iniwin niw wj'2sakesit nuh we' yAwekeh, wd'hta niw kadts-We'2sakesiw. 1k6'2sik niw as a'-nipdk~ ind'2tewin. ewa Thin, 'UMA's ki'a~ts aku'atsih mi-kii'slcapdhkini'Idit, pas,nandi'wakutsinu'1kin aki'kuh api'hki yAk. 'Md'w, lkAta-kutse'2tawin kine5h&'hkim!' up~'1htsi?nimdiwd'nan kay~s-nawdi'tina'tsin, si'kit6'hneuwsn. iniwin dnii'tsin nuh up9'htsi~nimdwd'nan, 'hii'w, umA's ni-kc''slkapei'hkinikdi'nun!' pakg'tina'tsin. nuh we' YAWe'keh wc''htapit, h&'w, iniwi'n teh pis-y6'h-k&'skaaninuh ap&'hkiyAn. hei'w, wei'wahtd2 ini's 8ku'ahtemih p'i'mi-pyA'tdit, pis-pi'htikewin ind'nw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 463 A ways farther on, there sat the woman. "Now then, be on your guard," she said to him; "That long ridge over there, that is where we are going. Watch closely where I set foot as I step. Do not anywhere look up." The rock was like this in form. When they started forth, truly, as one loked down at either side, far away was the earth. He kept his eyes close upon her as she took her steps; at last, there was something like a small house, which the woman entered. So then he too went in and took his place upon a settee, to dwell there in his wife's house. When night came, he did not sleep. Then at one time, as he pretended to sleep, she arose from the couch. Noiselessly she arose; across the wigwam she went and nudged the little old woman, her mother. "I bring you a man!" she told her. He went and observed them. "Dear me, Daughter, you are doing great things!" She undid her daughter's braid; there, indeed, lay the man's heart. Slowly and carefully she split it down the middle with her knife; she lifted some coals from the fire to do her charcoal-roasting. When the old woman looked, that snow was melting, and so the fire was being flushed out. "Tut, tut, tut!" she said; "Didn't this daughter of mine say to me, 'I bring you a man'?" By this time it had all melted. "Faugh!" she said, "It's a long time you will be doing magic, Son-in-Law!" On the next day that old woman fell ill. In truth she was very sick. It lacked only that she die in the end. Then he said to his wife, "Something must be wrong with your mother, to make her sick." "He is asking you; 'Something must be wrong with your mother,' he says of you." "Yes," she answered; "If my son-in-law would scratch the reeds of the house-wall all round the outside of the house, I should get well," she said. Now, that reed wall hung in mid-air. "Very well, I shall try!" "Your son-in-law says he will try." Taking his tobacco-pouch, he stepped out of the lodge. He said to his tobacco-pouch, "Go scratch the reeds of the wall!" and set it down. To where the old woman sat it came, scratching the reeds of the house-wall. When it was exactly outside, she struck the wall. "Yah!" she said, thinking to knock him off with her blow. But when, unchecked, it had reached the door, then in came the man. 464 464 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl l Vol. X11 'irn'tsiWAlk kdi'h as aw-ind'nit lkiki'yah!' ni-1kuhkZ't inu& u~''yAwekeh. hei'W, wdnitipd'1&kah, 'ICAf Iciki'te-p6!nihilkunan.' wayd'pah,. hd', minwin sa2 yeh misi'k s mami'atit w6'2sakesit. dhki'2ts niw s a-ni pa'k in&'2tewin. iniwin-pih mi'8ik tsiw-ina'tsin nuh u~'wuan, 'k4'1c6h tsiw-6'hisZ'kiw lkili'yah s w#j'?sakcesit!' 4i',' ~wd'hin weyAwe~kehko'Aseh; 'y6'm uhsiyii'hkiw miyd'watei'hlkyah ni2 kitdi'miw as tsi'w-it. ani'nuh pi'tuwit nuhti'h, pas nitd'ninim.' 'ha'w, nina-kutW'2tam!' ma' 2tikwAn kayj8-MArna'tsin, 8d'kNo'hnewin, kay&s-Oit8-isqyA'tua2 ni'M-i8i. 'h&'w, ni'2 tsiw-5'h-kuhpjt!' wehta' niw umet'? dnii'hkiwil, wdihta ni'w anci'hkihsi'hkua2 me2 -tiku'alb8AL. 5h-nawgnd4M'tsin, lkinui'pik5o'AAn awei'win. iniwin fdh and'miah mnis inim-isitd'tsi kit. ayd'pekta'w ihpihk IAni'win nis weih-lkd'kitit kahki'k. pei'pik mnum Uhts~m6win Icitd'miw, mei~ts-kitd'miw; me~niki'nin: 'sjeA, nipa? kiw-ini'taman niki'yah a'hsami'tsin mama'tsi~tawan!' Csi'h, pona'tsiminun!' ind'win; ne~ni'mdi'wAn inim-ahpd'kituwd'win. 95A nikdi'te-mahlc&'mik ayum nih kay~s-ahsii'miyen!' id', sinawd'2 niw kAs kimamz'tsihsiMUAW!' wMh-naw~ndhd'tsin, sehki~hsinin; umd'2 kitd'miw; nd's utd'h, me'Iwin a'nehkAk nih utd'h. iniwin s pi&mu'atsin. pdi'pik d'saw misi'k kRs-pimi'win. iniwin-pih pis-tta'2tipa'kutsih wZ'Ic6wa? miyd' 5tIkA8. '1&d'w, nisd'kihsehb d'pehtaw a-nu'ahnen inih wZ'k!' 'ts'h!"' iss'hsinin nuh kitd'miw'. d'pehta nu'ahnenin. kdi'kit6'win inuh we' YAWkellko'Aseh: Iy&Ah,kitd'mahew wZ'2taw~an!'I '2tCM?, initsiwAk kd'A 8 aw-ind'nit Ikiki'yah!1' ini-kuAhN'2tawin. 'kini's kdh kits-awd'tukim, nuhd'h!' wayd'pah kAni'win misi'k wZ'?sakesit; k6'2sik mni? s a-ni pd'k ind'2tewin. iniwin-pih misi'k k6'tsimund'tsin: 'k&'k6A tsiw-5'A-isZ'kiw 1ciki'yah!' 11 Right fist clapped into left palm. 1928 Bloonmfield, Menomini Texts 465 "Now I suppose your mother will get well!" The old woman turned round. "It's a long time you will be doing magic!" she said. Then, at night, "She will not leave off from you." On the next day, again she groaned with pain. She was all but dying. Then again he said to his wife, "Something must be the matter with your mother, to make her so ill!" "He is asking you, 'Something must be the matter with her,' he says of you." "Yes," said the old woman; "Right at the very center of this narrow ridge there must be a porcupine. If my son-in-law brought me it, I should get well." "Very well, I shall try!" Taking his bow, he stepped outside, going on the way by which they had come. "There, that must be the path by which he goes up-hill!" And indeed, there on the slope, there lay a deep mass of brush. tTo seek him out he used a little snake. It crawled along there, underneath. When it had gone halfway, suddenly a chipmunk gave cry. At once that other creature, that porcupine, called out, hat great porcupine: "Ho, was not that the call you give when my mother feeds me the flesh of a mortal man?" "Hush, stop your talking!" he said to the chipmunk, throwing it some tobacco as he passed. "Ho, this person is wanting to rob me of what you are giving me to eat!'1 "Oh, eat your meal in peace, both of you!" He went and sought the creature; there it lay; there lay the porcupine; and there was its heart, beating like this, in full view. Then he shot it. Immediately again, from the other side he shot it. It fell hurtling right in the direction of the house. "There! Let my mother-in-law's house halfway cave in!" "Whang!" fell the porcupine. Halfway the house caved in. The little old woman screamed, "Yah, he is destroying his brother-in-law!" He went back, "Now, I suppose your mother will get well!" She turned round where she sat. "It's a long time you will be doing magic, Son-in-Law!" On the next day, again she fell sick: she was at the point of death. Then again he asked his wife: "Something, surely, must be wrong with your mother!" The chipmunk, bribed with the tobacco, says this of the porcupine, to mislead the old woman. The next speech is her answer. 30 466 466 ~Publications3, American Ethnologj~ical Society Vol. XII 'jA, UMA'8 Miyd/watei'hkyah ini'? as tsitti'f md"ts-awi1'hsel&. ani'nuk pi'tuwit, pas nita'ninim.' mayd'tsiAt, nwndinay'pehtaw iniwin wdh-k&'lkitit mft'tsihbkiw; ino'? tal& uta'timu'man inul& ma'ts-awa'hseh. CU minpa9 kiw-ini'taman ei'Ihsami'tsin niki'yah mamd'tsi~tawvan!' gI6A, na'sap niw nikdi'te-malldi'mik-eh inil& tsi-kj,3-nim-ahpd'kitu'wi yen!' Cdp', sinawd'? niw kAt kimdmi'tsihSimuAW' h&'w, ume'win-tel&-pih ni si'hlcihsil& inuh md~'ts-aw4'hseh. nd'8 u~ta'h u~mewin a'nehkAk; iniuwi'n teh s pimu'atsin uta'Ih. pa' pic W'M misi'kl pimi'wvin, pd'rni-ttd,'2tipa'kutsih misi'k miyei' yWt~kwa2. 'Iha'w, nisa'kilhsel w~'k ini? s a-ya'hpits-nu'aIhnel&!' lpaka'hkiksih, iniwin aya'hpi&ts-nu'askak. 'h&', kitd'mahew wu'?'tawan!' ini2 s mi'2tsinand'tsin. aki'? teh mAmd'tsi~taWAn Icaye8-mu'atua2. 'naMd'w, kAn i'nih aw-inim-isj'kinun. "kitd,'miw" kinaw-isw#~'hnik mAma'tsi~taw; kind'? teA a-ki'-m~h. 1uW, mis3i'k awdi'Iseh kind'? mamdi'tsi~taw kinaw-ini-ne'2n'ik. rnama'tsi~taw kAn pAs utd'nan y6'w kAtdiW-isj'kiyek.' ht'i'w, ini'? keh s ii'yit. '&'nitu~k ay6' aw-ihpa'nanak?' indi'nihtAMin usa'kih-sd'AsAn. Iui'w, nik~tii's sa?ydh tsi-w~'2sake'sit nuh&'h. hi'. kdi'2ts-wj?2sake'sit, s a-ni pe'k niw indi'2tewin. iniwi'n-pih inul&Wj'YAWjkeIhk5'hseh a'8it k6'simund'tsin uniiI&d'hkiman: 'kd'k~h, nitah, tsiuw-5h-is~'kiw nuhJ'h!' aAindwin 'ii'swdh1-pi'yen nhti'htanu'm ini'? as it, pindi'ksiah. ani'nulh pi'tuwit kiki'yah, pas nitd~'ninim.' imi's wd'h-piAt ut4'Atanu'man iniwi'n as i'nit, pinii'Ihiah. aku,'AtsRih ini'? as WAsa'2napit. tdtni'hpis kayis-ki'tinaI&, wa'kulhsiwayd'nan kay&~-utd'siyenit, kaydihtsi'?net, ap!'?8elhka? wii'kuh? ayum-d'? as mdi'k-ap~t pind'Asyah; kAni'win niw WviyAk isej'kiw pis-ta'wanA'kutsih. pits-ni'pi?tAt,' 1 Gresture as above. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 467 "He asks you again; 'Something must be wrong with her,' he says of you." "Yes; over at the very center of the ridge there must be a great bear. If he brought it to me, I should recover." "Very well, I shall try!" He went off to seek it; halfway there, a bluejay called out. It was that great bear's sentinel. "Ho, is not that the call you always give when my mother feeds me the flesh of a mortal man?" "Hush, cease your talking!" said the man to it. "Ho, for no reason at all he wants to rob me of what you have thrown to me!" "Eat your meal in peace, both of you!" A ways off, over there, lay that great bear. In full sight its heart was beating; he shot it in its heart. Right afterward, from the other side, again he shot it. When it fell hurtling, - again, right toward the house it went. "There! Now my mother-in-law's house shall entirely cave in!" When it crashed against the house, the house entirely caved in. "Oh, he is destroying his brother-in-law!" When he came home, she was well. So now he had slain them all. They were the creatures which had eaten men. "Now then, this thing shall not continue to take place. 'Porcupine,' men will call you, and it is they who will eat you. And you, Bear, it is man who will continue in the future to kill you. Men could not be, if you were to go on in this way." So then he dwelt there. "How shall I dispose of her, I wonder?" he thought concerning his mother-in-law. Then, soon afterward, the son-in-law fell sick. He grew very ill; he was at the point of death. Then the old woman in turn questioned her son-in-law, "Something, Daughter, must be the cause of my son-in-law's being this way." "She is asking you, 'Something must be the cause of his being this way,' she says of you." "Yes," he answered her; "At the place from which I came is my pet, an eagle. If your mother brought me it, I should get well." At the place whence he had come was an eagle; outside the lodge it had its nest. "Very well, I shall fetch it!" Taking off her skirt and putting on a girdle-clout of fox-skins, she flung off into a run; she went with wondrous speed in the form of a fox. There sat the eagle; suddenly some creature came tearing 30* 468 468 Publications, American Ethnological ASociety Vol. xi] u~nahkd'hkWAnAn ini'win as ahpdi'kina'ts8inI. w'WjyAWkeh/ko'hgeh inim-ispd'?s3iwin, hj'y, ispd'miah, pd'panat4'nihtah! 'y&Ah!' jw&'hin, 'nit&'2sanim!' inim-pd'pelhtsinin.1 y6'win-nilcuh A~dk'mehlc'hsih. pit8-lcewat, 1ay~8-ki'2tinats8in uta'siyenAn. 'n d's /kAt nipu'ah nu~h&'h!' mm?, ni-sehkjc'hsinin ayum wi'nah nuh&'h; minwin s a-ni pdi'I niw in&'2tewin. nika'tas8 pimi'm-un~'pahta'win We'yAWekehko'hseh. 'hya'h!' ki'2tsuwdf'pinah utlin&'hpis, 1cayj~s-d'siyit, wayd'pRt. ayu,'m wi'nah s mdi'k-apit aIkpa'n niwV, ahpdi'n niw ntiiwi'pahtsik-dw. mi', lcAniwi'n niw keh mis8i'lk payi'hpisit. ayum ind'niwv, 'hd'w, dhpi'htsiWet Y6'M kAt ahpai'lkinew undhkdi'h/kwAnAn!' iniwi'n-pih ini? sa~vi'h inuh Pind'hsiah ahpi'htsiwet iniwin 4'hpakindi'tsin aninuh unahkdi'hlkWAnAn. hVy, wjyAwjlkehkc&'hseh pa"miah! kawin p6'ts &'nu $ misi'k ni-w~'hnatsin ut&'2saneman. kawin p6'tsq; mni'? kah s kjs-wdi'pe?8it. 'wvdsj'kiw j'h-ayum!' ind'win us8i'Ikihsfi'h8An. 'naha'w, nirnj'h ni'pis-nikdin5'Pah; kima'tsia?!' matsyA'tua?. payiAta'tua?, a', siwas i'wanin aninuhtumj'hs~n, pi'hticet. hcne1hsj'2, nisa? s pi'yen!' 'hd'w, mitd'mvh nipis-witsi'wdw!' sa'kit6'hnet. jfi'htikana'tsin iniwi'n-pih and'tsmn uhs#~mehs~n, 'd', nehs.W?, nii'sap niw y6's 1kik&~- i8-ki'siki'hin; imi'? winah as i';tua? kinj'kihjkunawt~k. nahdi'w, ini'? teh ni'nak as a-mdts9i' yen; ta'?, lcina'h teh ta'?-nakah aw-is3i'yen?'.nahd'w, ta'?, ini'? Idih ninah ap aw-isiyen. ay6' teh nitd'htanum ini'? s paki'tinakc; y6'? teh as a-tand'sit, UMA~'s. ayd'pehtaw y~w Icesilcuh; kAn teh wvi'nah mAmdi'ts8i?taw unaw-ini-tand'nan.' imi'9. 108. wAwA'PIKU'AHSEMIIT. (Josephine Satterlee). niku,'t apdhni'hseh iniwi'n s pdpimi'kihi'kut UMah8s1md'h8An; pj'h-ke?ts-ind'niw ei'wiwin. iniwin 1ki-sii'sehkj,'hAsiA nis8i'k niw m53'sah inuh ke?t8-ina'niw; y&'hpi't-3 hd?nd'hkamilc6'wiwin uhpd'AkwAnih. nik~td's niw sa?ye'A tay4'pikinit inuh apdhni'AseA; iniwin d'kut anuA u4mahs~md'hSAn: 'ini? sa?ye'A s tdp-&t'wi yen lcimd'?tik as pas ta'nat,' ilku'ahin. 1 Gesture as above. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 469 along, with open mouth. When it came close and stood upright, the eagle flapped its wings, once! Up flew the little old woman in the wind, way up aloft; desperate was her plight. "Dear me," she cried; "My stone!" Down she fell. She sank as far as this into the ground. When she came home and had taken off her magic girdle-clout, "Oh, what matter? Let my son-in-law die!" Her son-in-law still lay there; he was at the point of death. Suddenly, up jumped the little old woman. "Yah!" She threw off her skirt, put on her girdle-clout and ran. But he, where he sat, kept watching all the time. Suddenly again she came whirling upward. The man, "With all his might let him strike his wings!" Then at once with all its might the eagle struck its wings. Hey, the little old woman, - way up aloft! "Yah, my stone!" It was of no avail that she now kept calling for her stone, of no avail; she was simply whirled aloft by the wind. "That is the end of her!" he said of his mother-in-law. "Now then, to be sure, I left my sister behind when I came here; let us be off," - and they set out. When they arrived, there was his sister, and he entered the lodge. "So you have come, Brother!" "Yes, and I have brought a woman," and she went out and led her brother's wife into the lodge. Thereupon she said to her brother, "Now, Brother, I came to this place only to bring you to manhood; over yonder is where our parents dwell. And now, as for me, I am going from here; but you, whither are you going?" "Very well, I too shall go to that place. But this, my pet, I shall set free; even here let him dwell, here halfway to the sky; from now on mortal men shall no longer keep him as their pet." That is all. 108. WAWAPIKUAHSEMIT. (Josephine Satterlee) A lad was reared by his grandfather; a very old man he was. That old man did nothing but lie there; on his back he was all covered with moss. Then once, when that lad had reached his growth, his grandfather said to him, "You are old enough now to have a bow and arrow." 470 470 Publications American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwin teh s m,~'nilkut rne?tilcu'ApiAn misi'Ic teh w~'pan. hd'w, iniwi'n teh s ki-papim,-pa&p.6'8it inul& apehni'hseh. Ihaw, misi'k nilcota's iniwi'n rnisi'k s kuslk6'sinit umah85ma'h8An; iniwi'n teh d'kut: 'naha'w. jnj'2 sa~d'h s3 tdp-&'wiyen s pas un4'nisi yen,' ilcu'ahin. iniwi'n tdh s m,~'nikut uwdsi'hn'nanMis8i'k teh wct'piMipi'ASWAfl. ini'win teh sa~ye'h s wd~sline'nit inuh apehni'Ihseh; iniwin teA s iri'matan iniwi'n ke~tsi'h as i'nit; di'pehtaw me~ti'Ik &'wi win. iniwin teh ki'W-i~iAts5Ii-weh-ndwa'tsin. iniwi'n teA d'lkut:- 'kikdi'tew-ne~ni'k 9'A-inuh kimd'Asumin,' ikrn'aAmn; 'wind'?' wd'h-di'wikc y6'm ni'nah s isjn&'lkusjyen,' jwd'Ain. nah&'w, iniwi'n s kje'wdit. kAniwi'n ni&w misi'k k8'slcusit inuh ke~t8 -indi'niw. 'nahd'w, nuhsi'h,' iwa'hin, 'ii? keh sa? yeA s9 tap-&'wi yen mitd'muh s pas kandi'wihat,' iku'ahin; 'ncahd'w, uma'nakah i~siAnun; tdi~takatsihki'wAk,- miti'muh8Ak ini'nakah; urna'ncakah teA Usilhtaika'tskiwAlk, ne~ne'piwAk,' ikcu!ahin. hdi'w, iniwi'n-yih teA maya'tiAt. ne~nimd~'wAn awdnd win. iniwin teh ini'M-iSiAt anuh we'matAn; iniwin teA s kaki'Alkimilcut. haw, ayaku'tAMiginUn,' iku'ahin; 'sanii'kat miiS dii'yen,' ilku'ahin. iniwin lkeA s Ma'tsiAt. s mdik-ni-pii'pim3'Anet, lkd'2tin iniwi'n ga? yeA 8 teipi'pahtah ini's s i'tua2 akuh mita'mubAk9l. minimi'Aikanih inim-i8i'At, iniwi'n s sehki'hsihlkua2 mamii'h-utdtsi'AAhku/c.1 'st, sinawa'2nikun!' ind'win. ne~nimd'wan pdi'kituwdi'win. kdi'ydlc?' indi'win; 'ta? At6'tawikua2 akuh MAtsi2-mitd'muhsAk kd~niipumi'kua2?' indi'win. iniwin niw ds-ydh-usi'hAsihkua2 aki'IcuA. h&'W, Misi'lk nim-mdlk-piipim6'Anet, lkAniwi'n niw misi'k wi' yAlc isekiwAIC sd'Akihsi'Akua; piSe'WAk tdk d'wiwAkin. iniwin. misi'lc 8 ni'pi~tatua2, nay'4IAkut. 'stl umd'? ne?ni'midw! in4'win, TayuhpuAlcun! ta? At6'taWi'kua2 akuh MAts9i'2-mita'm~uhs8Ak kdina'pumiku4??' ina'win. iniwin keh s yii'h-usi'Asihkua?. iniwin teA sa~ye'A s p i'Atdt misi we'IkiwAmih. nis isku'Ahtemih iniwin Misi'k ke~ts-indi'nsw as ng' - pu~wit. iniwin wi'nah ap as lk&'litit s tidw-wg'AtaA. 'st!' ind'win, 'ayu'm d? ne?ni'ma'w!' ind'win Misi'k ani'nuh, 'uhpu,'Anun! ta? at6tawatua? kuh mita'muh8Alk?' ind'win. 1 Narrator or I here missed some such sentence as: flayi'Alcut, ifli'wif 8 flV'pi~tAtua?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 471 Thereupon he gave him a bow with a sinew and arrows. So now the lad used to go about hunting. Then, at another time, again did his grandfather awake, and this time he said to him, "Well then, you are now old enough to deck yourself out," he told him. With that he gave him face-paint and a mirror. So now this lad was become a young man, and now began to decorate himself. Near by there stayed his brother; half of him was wooden. He used to go there to visit him. Then his brother said to him, "This grandfather of ours means to kill you. It is due to him that my body is like this." Then he returned home. Suddenly again did the old man wake up. "Now then, grandson," he said, "you are now old enough to have a wife," he said to him; "So therefore, go over in this direction; over that way the women are lazy; but over here, in this direction they are skilful workers and industrious," be told him. So he set out. He took some tobacco with him. But on his way, he went to his brother, and he gave him counsel. "Now then, be on your guard," he told him; "It is difficult, where you are going," he told him. So then he set out. Walking on and on, he did indeed come in sight of the place where those women stayed. As he was going along on that path, there lay some large cranes. When they saw him, they rose to their feet. "Pst, be still!" he said to them. He threw some tobacco to them. "Have a smoke, each of you!" he said to them. "Is this the way to lie in your places, when you are treated with consideration " he said to them. "What need you care for those nasty women whom you are guarding?" he said to them. Thereupon they lay down again. When he resumed his way, there, again, lay some creatures; they were panthers. They, too, rose to their feet when they saw him. "Hush! Here is tobacco for you!" be said to them; "Have a smoke, each of you. What care you for those nasty women whom you are guarding?" he said to them. At this they lay down again. Soon he reached the lodge. At the door there stood, this time, an old man. He too now called out to give the alarm. "Hush!" he said to him; "Here is tobacco!" he said to this creature too; "Have a smoke! What do you care about keeping watch over these women?" 472 472Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI iniwin teh pi'htiket inis w~'lcWAMih. ni's mitdi'muhsAkc siwas apZ'wakin; mdk-usj'htsike'wAlkin, na'nikcAm5'wakcin. aWi'Apah!' indhama85'WAkin akuh mitd'muh8Ak. So, mdk-keh-niw-i'yapit inuh skih-ind'niw, 'nahM'w kAta's iniwi'n-pih mayd'tsAt, wdipipei'htuk: iniwi'n-pih nayi'puwipa'htulkua2 akuh Mitd'MUhSxk. iniu'i'n s sa'kitsipahtu'kua2, pimj'nI'sihudtva2. iniwi 'n s nawd't'spdpakam&'tua2 anuh piewWAn. 'ha'91 teh kAt as wj'htamik?' ind'WAlkin. -sa'?e'h m'isik anuh ayii'n Utat~i'Ahklun, iniwin misi'lk anuh s inimnawii'ts-ne?natua2. ' a'? teh kAt s wj'htamikc?' ind'WAlkin. iniwvin s kti'p-walnaw-piAta'wi'pia-Itulk inuh inii'niw; sa~e'h payi'Atat inis w~'k8, Siw~ WASnpuwj'win anuh umdih86md'h8An ini's isku'Aktemih. 'kI'hki~takun!' iwd'hin nuh ke~ts-ind'ni'w. iniwi'n tehA inim-y6h-ispi'pisit inuh uski'h-ind-'niw. iniwi'n teh wdh-pi'htiket wahk.~'ikamikuh. 'ta? ayum dini'tah, matsi'2-Ice~ts-ind'niw?' in4'win anuh umdh8oMd'h8An; 'mitdi'muh8Ak weldi'h nipina'wAk,' indi'win. 'hm, awd'tulk aWi'A~ah nt5'hsihseh!' ~uwi'hin. ta?, pi'htilke'wAlkin alkuh Mita'MU/bA8A. iniwin /ceh s awdi-unii'Pitua? ini'8 utd'Atanih inuh uskj'h~a-i''niw. iniwin niw wd'Atinah tslkapah in'uh lke~t8-ind'niw s akiAhi'tsin nuh un65'AhdkAni'AhkiMAn. ta'?, iniwin kayZ8-niinuh&'hkapitua2 kuh mitdi'muh8Ak; ta'?,. inuh teA ke~t8-ind'niw iniwi'n misi'k niw hp4'n as lki'-nifpalt. Md'w, iniwin-pih misi'lk aSi'At anuh we'matAn; iniwin teAhmisi'k s kaki'hkimilkut: 'nahd'w, mitsi' ni kdi'l6A,' iku'ahin, 'kilww-i'lkuah ay6' kimei'hs~mmn; ini'? aw-Wit'h: "ini'? dini'pahtaman, tsiw-api'muak ayum n6'hsihseh," aw4' wdh,' ilku'ahin anuh wtd'mataninii'niw s pakdm&'tsin up'ipakl'tanih anuhA umdhsmei'AsAn. piSunj' win nuth lke?ts-ind'niw. 1 could get no explanation of this name, 'he who has a wd'pikuah'. This would be a diminutive of a word wd'pik or wa'pikuAn, denoting a white or bright object of some kind. That the Menomini really have no such word as this is made probable by the assimilated form ('popular etymology') of the name: Mask~wawanahkwatok says it is properly wdpd'piku'aheemit 'he who has a small flute'. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts "473 Then he entered the dwelling. There sat two women; they were busy at their tasks and were singing. "When may he be coming, that Wawapikuahsemit? Of more than human power, you know, he was to be!" so sang those women. Then, sitting there for some time, the young man at last said, "Well now, come, I had better be going!" said he. Then he went from there, breaking into a run; at this the women started up and ran. "Sister!" they both exclaimed. Out of the lodge they ran, pursuing him. But first they struck down those panthers. "Why did you not give the alarm?" they said to them. And then those cranes, too, they killed before going farther. "Why did you not give the alarm?" they said to them. By this time that man had run far enough toward his goal. When he came close to their house, there stood his grandfather in the doorway. "Run fast, girls!" said the old man. At this the young man leaped up aloft, leaving the ground. From the roof it was that he entered the house. "What is this dirty old man yelling about?" he said to his grandfather; "I am just bringing some women, that is all!" he told him. "Humph, and so my grandson has more than human power, has he!" said he. So the women came into the lodge, and duly went and seated themselves at the young man's settee. From next to the wall the old man took things to clothe his daughters-in-law. So then those women dwelt there in their husband's house; but the old man, as before, passed the whole time in sleep. Then he again went to his brother, and the latter again gave him advice. "Now then, something more," he told him, "this grandfather of ours will say to you; this is what he will say, 'I dreamt that I was going to shoot my grandson,' he will say," thus was he told by his brother. Then he went home. And indeed, in his sleep did that old man cry out. The man picked up a large stone and struckhis grandfather on the temple. The old man rose up from where he lay. 474 474Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Wtiw-aw-i8e'2ta yen as a-ne'2nAkz na'slkan kayZ'sikihAIk no'hsih8eh!' jw&ahin. '6',' in4'win, 'ta? 5'h teh dnd'pahtamnan?' ind,'win; '&tsimi'nun!' 'ini'? iceh &ni'pahtaman,' Zwd'hin, 'tsiw-aw-pim5'nan.' nahd'w, sa~ah teh, - ta?, k~s-kakci'hkimik anuh w~'matan inih aw-ise'?tAt, - 'nah&'w, pimi'na?2!' ind,'win anuh umah85md'hsAn. ta2, iniwi'n lkeh s n~'puwvit; iniwin sa~dh s pimo'lkut; y5'win teA spa"'miah as-sp8pisPiJi. ta'?, iniwin teA IkAn un4'?nilkunan. 'Am!' ju'ii'hin, 'awd'tuk d'WiAsah n5'Asihseh!' iniwin lceh s niydh-u~sj,'hsih inuh lke~ts-ind'niw s ni'piit. nahd'w, iniwin-pih misile c'siAt anuh wZ'?natan; iniwin teh s kaki'Alkimikut misi'lk: 'nahJ'w, &'sit lkina-sd,'kihlku'A?sim; alkuh teA kimd'tim5'AsirnAl lkinaw-ina'wvAk s aw-uni'yawipnd'Ahkua?,'kua hin, 'lAname'htsiw as a-pAka,'meh inuh ke-2ts-indi'niW Anuh a?8e'niAn,' ilku'ahin; 'ta?, wi'nah uma'nak tsi'kahkliah disis-icehAc'nah,' ilku'ahin; 'ini'?-teh-nakach aw-is-pem6'tsilkeyan,' ilku'ahin. ta'?, iniwin keh s kje'wdt. hiiw, Miiwi'n keh s nipei'tua2; lcAni'win kehb niw kaya'kitit. pa'hpisiW pis-unj'pahtawin inuhk ie ts-i nd'niw, nawdtina'tsin anuA a~se'niAn. iniwin-pih winu'a? aku, mitd'mudh8Ak waniyAWa'pina'tua?. 'Am,' iwd'hin, 'tsiW-A-kitd'mahak nimd.'hs~h nap nd.'sken kayg'si'ta'? teh anii'pahtaman?' ilku'ahin anuh umd'hs5md'hsAn; 'atlsimsnun! ta'?, Iki-wZ'htam wiyAk ldi'k~h dnd'paht&'hkin.' 'mni'? lcel a'situa2 awd'tukAkc tsiW-A-pimo'nan,' in4'win anuA umd'h851nd'hSAn. nahii'w, iniwi'n keh waya'pah: 'naha'w, lkAta's pimi'na?,' ilcu'ahin. ta'?, Minwin keh s awMA-n~,'Puwit inuh ke~t8-ind'niw; ini'wi'n ice s pimu'Iatsin. 8a~ye'h pdmu'atsin, uma'naic tsi'icahlkiah d'si'tAt; iniwin teA s misu'atsin umdhs5md'ASAn. iniwin teA s ne~n~a'tWn. 'hM'w, awgA-paicj'nehicun,' inii'win, 'MAtse'2-kicih8Aswaw!' ind'win anuh we'wAn. nahM'w, s3 maic-iiy'tua?, niic~td's niw, 'upZ'wana'sicin kAt nitdi'wim!' vJwd'hin. iniwin 'teh s papimg'?net; iniwin teA s na'miic uma'naicah s ni'ic misik teA uma'naic pi8-y5'A-wa'pah as icd'k'i s wd'2wipitdic ayi'.6uh s ihpE'tiik. anuh teA wj'matan kWsats ~'tsikcapuw~Aa'win. sa~ydi'h teA payi'Apitikc, iniWin s pahlk4'8ah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 475 "The idea of my doing such a thing as killing my grandson whom I was at such pains to bring up!" he said. "Oho!" he said to him; "Just what was it you dreamt? Tell what it was!" "Why, just this is what I dreamt," he answered, "that I was to shoot you." "Very well," said the young man, "to be sure, you shall shoot me," he told him. And then, soon, - for his brother had instructed him in what to do, - "Come on, shoot me!" he said to his grandfather. So then he took his stand, and the other shot at him; but up into the air, like this, he jumped. In this way the other failed to kill him. "Humph!" he said, "And so my grandson is of more than mortal power!" Therewith the old man went back to his couch and slept. Then he again went to his brother, and the latter again advised him, "Now then, you in your turn will have a nightmare; and you will tell those wives of yours to raise you up from your bed before the old man strikes you with the rock," he told him; "Now, he, you see, from down below there is where he gets his power,l" he told him; "and it is in that direction that you must send your shot." So then he went back home. In due time they went to sleep; then suddenly he cried out. At once the old man leapt up from his couch and seized the stone. Then those women raised him aloft from the bed. "Hm," he said, "the idea of my destroying my grandfather who was at such pains to rear me!" he said. "What did you dream?" his grandfather asked him, "Tell about it. You know one always tells one's dreams." "That was what the powers said to me, that I should have to shoot you," he said to his grandfather. "Very well, then, you shall shoot me," answered he. So, accordingly, the next day, "Well now, come, shoot me," he said to him. So then the old man went and took his stand, and he shot at him. But when he shot him, he directed it down toward the ground, and in this way he hit his grandfather. He killed him. "There, go put him away, your nasty father-in-law!" he said to his wives. Then once, as they were staying in that place, "Let me be a piece of plant-down!" he said. Thereupon he flew hither and thither; then it was that he saw something that whirled shining, speeding back and forth in the direction of the setting sun and in the direction whence comes the dawn. Now, he had stood his brother head down. And now, when that thing came speeding his way, he cut it free. 1 Literally: "is the way he knows things." 4 7 6 47"Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI 'nikdhte'nilkamiku'n62 I' iwdi'hin. iniwin teh api'ts s awflh-pihtii'hkinek inih wve'yAw inuh ii'pehtaw me~ti'lk tsiw-d'wvit. iniwin teh ind'niw s ydih-er'wit. nik5tei's- niw ni' win d'lcUt AnuA wj' WAn: 'ay&.'hMrAt8i'kihkcwa'wis sa~yd'h pf'hkahkAt~ivd~iw s ta-nAfct'-pAWa,'nelh,' ilkii'ahin Anuh we 'WAnl. iniwi'n kels S ma'tSiAt 5 nAtondha'tsin aninukhMAtsi'kihkcwd'wisAn. s mdkl-niw-ini-pdpem5'hnet, kAni'win niw wi' yAn mdyd4'hkiWA'tsin. 't~a'2-teh-nak dsi'yen?' iku'ahin. ~6,inn? nd't~ne'AAk MAtSi'kihkwdi'wis,' jwa kin. 'nahd'w, ape' nun. kita'wats-ape'2,' iku'ahin; 'kit&'wats-a'yuhpua2.' a'nu ta'2talca'tsiwin inuh wdwii'piku'Ahsimit, ta?, iniwi'n Iceh s nawdi'ts-8uhpu'Atua2. inu,'h teA anuh tsi-miyi'hkiwAtsin umd'win kiw-is-n&'sahatsin anum kU'852nan. hd'w, winah ap inuh wdwd'piIku'AhSiMit ki-ydh-i.3pdhd~'win. iniwi'n Iceh s dyutamftwd'mikut; ahk65'2sik ini? s kAta'w-nipat. W'n'kumeh ni~cs-sawd,'n'itmikupah!' ~wdi'hinA&t'w, wina'h ap wdiwd'piku'ahsimit, "nimi'Ihs~h nik&s-sawd'nimikupah!' jwa'hin. iniwi'n teh s keg-yii'I-kusk5's8it. k6'2sik iniwi'n as an#~'hikcut; iniwin s pis8-kii'hkwA?sit; minwin pd'pik s kUs-p'5'hunikut; misik md/hkamikin uhtd'wakapiAn, - naQ'natslca'?I,,8Ak (t'wiwAkin; kalksto'wAkin inuh nht&'wakapiAn. iniwi'n tdiA pj'h-ke~ts-ineni'A'Jseh Sg a'witt, ta'?. mahk&'mik aninulh. Ad', iniwin-pih tdh mayatsyA'tua?. hd'w, sa~a'h teA payiAtd'tua2 tsjk 8ipi'Ahseh tsi-pimne'hneh ini's; iniwi'nt tdlh s ahpii'linatsn anuh ke~ts-indni'Ahsmn imi's nipi'Ihih. wina'h tdh winah isi'Win inuk mAtsilcihkwd'wis as tsi'w-it. Uhs'Meh8An nrni'siwAlcin inuh MAtsikihkwd'wis. kAni'win kek niw ind/niw payi'At; nn&A-pakd'tstina'kusi' win. ta"?, ini'win dnd'tsin anuh nhs~mehSAn MAtsikihlcwei'is: 'nipg'w n&'tih; kinawv-aksdM6'naw ayu'm.,' ~wd'Ain. ta'?, ini'win s nd'tik nibpe~'w inuh uhsg'mimaw. iniwin wiyAn s nawd'tsin as akci'ht~ih nipi'hiA. ka~yjs-awejh-p~'1tikat~k inih nip~'w, 'kAni'w,' iwd'hin, 'WiyAk ninA's nind'wdw,' iwdi'hin. 'niti'Ihseh ini'pa? as pis-pakenAk,' iw&'hin inuk ind'niw. ta'?, nitsyA'kah ni'w wvdp~'win inuh kWsZ'Aseh; iniwin tdhA awMAakcu'Apinii'tin AnnA ke~ts-indni'AASAn s aW~h-pi'Atikan&'tsin..sg'h, kVnim uIti'Aseh8An!' iWii'Ain MAtsikikkwd'wis. ta'?, iniwi'n keh 8 ki-pahpj'8it innA MAtsikihkwd'wis utd'niniAmAn ta?, ki-ne?tAkd'win. ay6' teA aynm uh8Z'mimaw, a'niwAn wayZ'kiMAtsin anuA ke?ts-inadni'aks~n. kawin nkkittinan; kawin uw~'h 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 477 "Into the smoke-hole of our wigwam!" he said. Thereupon exactly into that place sank that body of him who was half wood. So now he was again a man. At one time then his wives said to him, "That Foolish Maiden is fasting to death, trying to obtain a dream of you," said his wives to him. So then he set out to seek that Foolish Maiden. And as he walked along on his way, after a while he met someone. "Where are you going?" this person asked him. "Why, I am looking for the Foolish Maiden," said he. "Come, sit down! Let us rest a while!" said the other to him; "Let us have a smoke before we go on." Although that awiwpikuahsemit was unwilling, yet they stopped for a smoke. But that person whom he had met kept pushing back the sun. Wawapikuahsemit kept pushing it up again. In this wise the other kept delaying him with the din of his talk; finally he grew sleepy. "My grandmother blessed me with spirit-power!" said that person. Wawapikuahsemit in turn, "My grandfather blessed me with spirit-power!" said he. Whereupon he would become awake again. But in the end he was beaten; he sank down from sleepiness, and at once the other broke his power; he took from him his ear-rings, - hummingbirds they were; endued with voice were those ear-rings. Thereupon he became a little very old man, for, you see, the other had taken these from him. Then they set out. Soon, when they reached the edge of a brook which must have flowed by there, that person threw the little old man into the water, As for himself, he went where the Foolish Maiden was staying. There were two of them, the Foolish Maiden and her younger sister. Suddenly there came a man; splendid he looked. Then Foolish Maiden said to her younger sister, "Go fetch water; we shall keep this man for a meal," she said. So then the younger sister fetched water. There she saw someone lying in the water. When she had brought the water into the house, "Just a moment!" she said; "I saw someone out there." "Oh, yes, I did throw my dog out there," said that man. Nevertheless, the girl ran off; to that place she went and drew out of the water the little old man and brought him inside the wigwam. "Faugh, your brother-in-law's dog!" said Foolish Maiden. Then Foolish Maiden's husband would go hunting; he made good killings. But that younger sister, she married the little man. He did not speak; he was not able to speak or to do any kind of 478 478Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kihtunan 8 Pas k4'k~h inii'nuhket. iniwin teh nisi'k Iki'w-itdiI: 'hm!' kiw-iuwa'hin; iniwin-pih kiw-ini'nilke'win. iniwin teh 8 niiindhlcinatsin s awana'tsin kutdi'2nas. indin&'peh awdtdi'win inuh ki~s~'hseh. iniwi'n teA s kiw-in6'hamakut pi'kutsi'hnAlC s kiw-aw~A-pakd'htah; awd'hseA teA kiw-i'wiwin. ni'w tdih saydiA ne~ne'win AWct'h8An. inuh tahMl Atsilkihkwdi'wis utd'niniAMAn m5'sah ni pisZ'wAn ki-ne'?ne'win. 'tsi' teA winah lkiti'hseh awd'ASAn ne'?new!' iwad'hin MAtsilciAkw~iv'wis; 'ki'nah tdh m.6'sah piSZ'wVAk,' iwd~'hin. iniwin ni' kut tsi-wMh-kem5'tima'tsin anult we'nimun. iniwin 8 pi8-pakjt~md'tsin islku'Ahtemih; 'nipimniw auW~hseA,' indi'win anuht,we'WAn. 6&syA't MAtsikihkwft'wis, pilkutsi'hnAk &'wiwin inih tsi-pimZ'tahpit4 k. Cy56A ay5'sa2 lkinah kiktiwd'hsem!' iwa'hin tsilcihlcwd'wis. ta2, kawi'n lcd'k~h lkAta'W use'nan inuht ind'niw payi'ta~sit. iniwin lcAniwvi'n niw, 'Am!' ayd'yitah iiuuh ke?ts-indini'ahseh. iniwin teh 8 dyinenilkuwd'tsin anuA We'WAn 8 a-kehp&t6'k teA inih 81cu'aIhtem. pi'Atilc teA winu'a'? iniwi'n as i'tua2; MAtSikihkwdi'wis3 teAl winalt aku,'AtSih sa'lkisind'sihaWAlin. iniwin tih s uhpu,'At inult lce~ts-indni'Ahseh. MA~'s as sei'seh kit mesZ'2niwAk misas ni pem~'pahta'WAlcin; iniwi'n icel 8 inim-jpi'kitahd'tsin inuh ki~sj'AseA. Ahi'w, Me?8i'A sa~ft'A aydi'witua2, iniwin-pih pay&'AkinaA inih islcu'Ahtem. iniwin lceh s winan~,'Atsiket m5'sah niw. MAtsikihklwa'wis y5'win niw as-tsZ'pi~tAt; sii'matin ta? mese'2niwAk. '6', pindi'h wi'nah inu'A lkitf'AseA!' iw&'hin; `sdi'mat mesJ`2newAn nilkuh ndi'2natua2.' '6', 8anakesi'W~kit alcul mesZ'?neWAk?' waya'pah ini'win d'sit sa~ye'A s inid'tsin anuA wZ'wan s a-kelhpZ't~k 'iniA slku'alttem; k6'tis kisi'ct'na'sihawAlkin in~uA ki~s~'Aseh HUIc' anuA utct'niniAmAn. iniwi'n lkeA s 'Ulpu'At inuh ind'niw; mAS s 8&d - seAhkit we' yAk aweituk~~sAk miAehke'wAk usiimi'nukin. mnAtsikihkwii'wis misas Utsi'AniA pi'Atike'wAnin. ani'9 teA ami'nimikut anult ke~ts-indini'AhSAn. 'y6', ak5'sa2 kinalt kim&Zs'2niMAk!' jwdi'Ain tsi-pehki'putuk inih 8ku'Ahtem s sa'kesi'palttuk. ta'2, iniwin keA s ma'natuk inih mZ'tsimj'Aseh inuh uhsZ'mimaw, awdi'lhAn misik mesiZ'2newAn. nUA thil MAtsikihkwei'Wi8 ni'w nisi'k piSe'WAn tand'win. nik6'tds niw iniwin s awe~A-kt'm~sa'pumatsin mAts$'Alkiwis anuA 6k6'2simawan. iniwin s nti'mik teA ni'w nisi'k as tan&'tsin inuh MAtsikihkwi'wis pi8Z' wAn, inuA teA uhsZ Imimaw aw4'AsAn misi'k thA mesZ'?niWAn. iniwin-pilt kaye'wdit wvj'k~wa?, iniwin teA s ditsimi'2tawatsin aninult u'kiAn: Cni'na2 kalt MAtsikihkwa'wis kUs-pi'takuk wt'yAn,' iwdi'Ain; 'ni'w nisi'k niwv akfItu'ASO-W pi8Z'wAn,' ewa'Ain; cin-u'A teA UA&g'mimaw u~imat awdi'hseA-mitsim~'AseA Misi'k thil Me8~'?niwmn, jwii'hin~. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 479 work. All he used to say was, "Hm!" Then he would make signs with his hands. And then locking his arm with hers, he led her off somewhere. The girl took along her club. Then he would point out to her a rotten log, and she would go strike it; and it would turn into a bear. So now she killed four bears. But Foolish Maiden's husband used to kill nothing but lynxes. "How's this?" said Foolish Maiden; "Your dog kills bears, and you nothing but lynxes," she said. Thereupon he went and stole one from his wife's sister. He came, bringing it on his back, and laid it down by the entry-way. "I am bringing a bear!" he told his wife. Foolish Maiden went up to him; a piece of rotten wood was that thing tied across his back. "Ho, so this is your bear, is it?" said Foolish Maiden. Then that man who had brought home the game did not feel inclined to say anything. Then, soon afterwards, the little old man kept saying, "Hm!" He made signs to his wife to tie shut the door. They stayed inside; Foolish Maiden and her husband were turned out of doors. Then the little old man smoked. Wherever he spat, turkeys ran about, and the girl simply kept knocking them over. When there were many of them, she opened the door. Then she had nothing to do but clean her game. Foolish Maiden jumped with surprise; why, there was a great quantity of turkeys! "Oh, do look at your dog!" she said; "It's incredible, the amount of turkeys they kill!" "Why, you don't think turkeys are hard to get, do you?" On the next day he, in his turn, told his wife to tie shut the doorflap; the girl as well as her husband were turned out of doors. Then that man smoked; where he spat, there were very many bugs of all kinds, especially dung-beetles. They all went into Foolish Maiden's nose. That was what the little old man had wished on her. "Ho, so these are your turkeys, are they?" she said, untying the door-flap and-running out. So now that younger sister had much meat, bears and turkeys, but Foolish Maiden had only four lynxes at her place. Now at one time the girls' oldest brother came and spied on his sisters. Then he saw that Foolish Maiden had only four lynxes where she dwelt, but the younger sister had bears and turkeys. Then he went back home and told his mother about it: "What do you think? Someone has come to stay with Foolish Maiden," he said, "and she has nothing but four lynxes hanging out, but the younger one a great amount of bear's meat and turkeys." 480 40Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xliI 'naMd'w, ni'nehkuL'n!' iwii'hin inuh uki'ah~simaw. iniwi'n leek s mats yA'tua? lkuh ind'niwAlk s ndini'tua2. ta2, payiAti'tu&,. 'kipis-na'nine'minaw.' ifld'wAlcin. ta?. iniwi'n leeh s inim-nayii'htalhlca2 mitsime'hseh uw~matWhinu,'h tdih?nAtSi'hlkiwi8, "ninaw-ini-nay6'ma n~'tauw,' iwii'hin. ydi'lpits ta'2talcatsiwin inuh ke~ts-indini'Ahselh. ta2, wi'nua'? teh MAts9ikilhkwdi'uisg mindi'? matsi'wAlkin; ta'2 winalh und'siwAnin inuh uta'niniAMAn. inulh tdh winah ke~t8-indini'Ahseh iniwi'n niw uti'h s lke~tsi'Aklcasit; wii'2naw uti'lh inim-ta'wAlkin. lkAniwin Akd'h~ niw kute'2 -flAs ini-lcehta'2tat w~lhpehna'lkatuh. MA's pi8-kitW'2At, nandh&-paJka'tsinalcuse'win; slcel-ind'niw, iniwin winal& ld'h nap dsina'lcusit. mind'2tam~'hkewAkin' MAts8ikihkwa'wis3 kikZ'h utd'nini'AMAn. icitsilchkd~l 'wis as awMh-unii'pitua2. nAwa'h lCAriw inlim-piAta'WAkinl inuhk l8Zse'hseh. payi'ltilket inuh apdhni'hseh, siuws apZ'wvanin we'ts-nuha'hlkAn msilk w~'2tawan. 'nina'? inih lcWyaw!' inei'win, 'as lk~s-w~y&,'sehkaman n~'yaw,' inn' win. lc~sindiiAhe2siwas apZ'iwin. utii'kas lea yes-ramV k, aw~hpaldimd'win. hd'w, iniwin tiil s ne~na'ts8in aninuh W&ts-nuli'hklAn lkisleiki',yAweha'tsin. 'pipc3'ne~new a-kiw-itdi'muke ydm lk.,'s' iwa'lhin. inih wj's; mi'ts-pip6'ne~new iniwin wdih-uhp~'2tAt. a'?, ini? leek MAtSilcihkew'wis as sZ'keawit. iniwin tOh s ni-n6'tspinehei'tsin an'uh uhs~meh~sn. ta?, mdtsiwAkein teh inuh wdiwe'pikeu'Ahsimit misi tsi-ke6s-yfI'hfiAt. iniwin teh niw uti'h mAtsileihklwd'wis s n5'tspindi'ktsiket. 'leAtsg ld'?ts-pe~nAn!' iwa'hin inuh wawa'piku'AIhsimit. ked'2tin iniwi'n s kdi'2ts-pd~nah. iniwin keh s wang'hsih mnAtailciklewa'wis; ydh-wAslkj'win s leVwdt. ta?, winu'l a? teh mnat5~wAkein s lkj'wdit wiwiipileu'Ahsimit. payV'Atat wj'k5?, ta'?, anuh wj'wAn, anuh ni's iniwin as i'nit, misi'le tek anuh iW'matAn. iniwin teh dndi'tsin anuh ki?sj'hsAn: 'ni'nah winah ale6'? nimdi'tir6'h&imAk!,' iwdi'lin; 'ay6'? teh ni'mat a-leana'wiheh,' ind'win. ta'?, iniwvi'n eind'tsin anuA We'mAtAn: 'mitai'mh k lipi'tUAn..' ind~'wtn. Ia? inuh lki?s3j'lseh pei'pile lejs-und'pi?ta~wd'win anuh ina'niwAn. The next three paragraphs added by Maskwawanahkwatok; Mrs. Satterlee's ver'sioni has only the sentence: h&'w, iniwin tdh s fle,?nat8in... Both ns palatal. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 481 "Well then, go fetch them!" said the mother. So then those men set out to fetch them. When they got there, "We have come to fetch you," they said to them. Then the brothers carried the meat along on their backs. But the oldest brother said, "I shall carry my sister's husband on our way." The little old man made great resistance. Foolish Maiden and her husband set out in the lead; very handsome was that husband of hers. But the little old man lagged there in the rear; way in the rear were those people, as they went along. Then suddenly, at a place on the way there, he thrust himself into a hollow log. When he came out of it, splendid was the look of him; a young man, the very appearance that had been his before. Foolish Maiden and her husband were walking in the lead. A long-lodge was the house of the oldest brother. Foolish Maiden and the others entered that long-lodge and took their seats. Quite a while later arrived the girl and her husband. When the lad entered, there sat his wife's sister's husband and his wife's brothers. "Here is that body of yours!" he said to the other, "Seeing that you have been defiling my body by your use of it." There sat a little old man! He took his club and smote him. So he killed his wife's sister's husband and cut off his head. "Chicken-hawk they will call this your head!" he said. Then he flung it down. Through the chimney-opening of the house the head flew out; then a big chicken-hawk flew up from there. So now was Foolish Maiden a widow. And now she followed along behind her younger sister. "Sister, our husband!" she kept saying to her. They went on to whence Wawapikuahsemit had come. "Let there be a great snowfall!" said Wawapikuahsemit. Then truly there was a great fall of snow. Then Foolish Maiden lost them; she turned back and went home. But they went on to Wawapikuahsemit's home. When he got to their house, there, of course, were his two wives and his brother. Then he said to that girl, "As for me, these are my wives; but this brother of mine is the one who will keep you," he said to her. Then he told his brother, "I am bringing you a wife." At once that girl seated herself by that man. 31 482 482Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ani'WAn tdih we'wAn kay&~-ind'nimikut as aw-ini8-an~'hilh.s IcAWa'tua2, MAtsikihkwa'wi'8An aninuh as isi'At, ini'2 wdh. ini'2 keh. 109. A MOTHER ABANDONS HER SONS. (nayd'ht~w) 'i'ta2, wawZ'1kiwin lcdh inti'niw, We'WAn; ni'8iwAn tdIh winah unitsi'Anehs~n, apdhni'h8Alk. nikut ta.'h nul& n6'niw mitsi' niw. d' tdIh nu~h indi'niw pa'palhpisiw, ii'ta2, inuk mitd'muh s mj'tsqimd'hket Me'tsMe'lhseh. nay&'nikutuhkin tdh di'hsifpAnAn ki-pindi'win; ini'2 tih pimg'Ih as ws8?'htuk inuh mitii'muh. de', nik6i'td pd'hpisit inuh irnd'niw, kawi'n Upt'Anan w.d'nitipi'hkah. ini'win niw ds-w&'pah; iniwi'n tdih dndi'tsin. ani'nuh utdipdhni'h8iMAn, 'kdi'k6Ih tsiw-is~'kiw 1k6'hnuwaw. y6'hpil& ninaw.-mitd'hnaw.' k~ni~'wiwin, pdip6n5'wikc. kaye-s-mi'tsihsit, iniwi'n-pih mayd'tiAt inuh mitdi'muh, utd'ninapeh kayj'8-MAmdlk, papii'mahdi'hnatsin Unapi'AMAn. nik6'tas iniwi'n skj'8kikund'Ihal inuh indi'niw. me'2tik t86'patsini'n min; umd'win' d'8inakcuit imi'8 isp4a'miah. ini's dndi'pit, Sasd'lcikAta'hssnin ina4'niw. &', ini'win-pih Idiwakatsin anuh me~ti'kwAn. kay&s-kawdhii'tsin, iniwi'n WAh, 'a'I&8ipAnan ndi'2nikut. mi's ispdi'miah as t89'2napAmdi'tsin d'hsipAnAn, ni? as usa'Mi~tAt, P~'htsihSik.' ka'w, ini'2-pih tsi-kce8-iMi'nakal&-1dht.8wa'pahatsin; ini2-pih tsilckit'knakalui't~sin aninuli undp"AMAn. ini2-psl& tsi-lce'wdt. n4'Ihkah iniwi'n- dn'iMtin Anuh u,?na'1&simawAn apdhni'IAsAn., a'4'1&ipAnAn kejs-ne'2nikc; ki9s-p.Z'Itsihsin isp/i'miah' apd'ksusukUMAn, ki'sih di'Ikwah uma'hlcesnAn kds'2t8-U8Z'htawin. ni? as 1c~sd'nihtah ta-palkend't8in urntsyA'nehsAn. h&', iniwi'n-pih kayd'2ts-mand'hnet s dyi'watuk me?sih mehsj'wAn a-$pa-'tawenit Unitt8i'AneI&8An. nik6Ui'sniw as pit6'htal& meh8seIwAn, ini?-pih aku'Atsih tsi-kZ8-ni'm-a~tulk mahkdi'sinan. hcd'w, ayd'tslcwAt payi'tvkl ani'nuk melhse'wAn, ini'2-pih mayd'tiAt; miyd' niw lkutd'2nas mamii'tsi~tawan s tanei'nimatsin, ini'win d8-md'tsiAt. ayum apdihni'hsehv uni'lhsimaW sikdts-pi'htsikewin; kawin na'njs upit6njt~nan anulh mehs~wAn. iniwi'n niw d8-wdi'paIh. ini? 8 k9s-mdtsyA'nit uki'aI,86wa'wan, palci'nikuhta2. lud'w, ini'2-pil& m9'tsim9'hseI& tsiw-i'sah. kay&~-d'8a4 mg'tsim~'Ihse1h, di'hsipA'n-pim~h iniwi'n as tsi-wd'WiyA'kalhah. 1Gesture: hands, palm down, thrust out to sides at height of ears. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 483 But those wives of his were the ones who had wished it upon him that he should be defeated as he was, because they were jealous about his going to the Foolish Maiden. That is the story. 109. A MOTHER ABANDONS HER SONS. (Nayahtow) A man and his wife dwelt somewhere; they had two children, boys. One was still an infant at the breast. The man hunted, and the woman preserved the meat. Sometimes he would bring raccoons; then the woman would make oil. Once, when he had gone hunting, he did not return at night. Dawn came; then she said to her boys, "Something must have befallen your father. I shall follow his tracks today." It was winter and snow lay on the ground. When the woman had eaten, she took her ax, and set out to trail her husband. She came to the place where her husband's tracks stopped. A tree stood there; it was shaped forking, like this, at the top. When she looked there, there lay the man with his legs sticking out. Then she felled the tree. When she had felled it, then, "The raccoons killed him. When he was looking at the raccoons up there, he overbalanced and fell into the hole." Then she pulled at him from there; she dragged her husband out of the tree-trunk. Then she went home. In the evening she said to that older boy, "The raccoons killed him; he fell into a hole up in a tree." On the next day she was very busy tanning. When she had prepared the buckskin, she was very busy all day making moccasins. She had decided to abandon her children. Then she was very busy gathering wood, dragging in many loads of faggots for her children to make fire. But once when she carried in wood on her back, on the way, she set down the moccasins outside the house. When she had brought the last load of faggots, she went away; straight to some place where she thought there were people, that was the way she went. The older boy grew impatient with waiting; she was very long about bringing the wood. In this way morning came. It was clear that their mother had gone away and abandoned them. Then he ground up some meat. When he had ground the meat, he stirred some raccoon-oil. 31* 484 484Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. Xli iniwi'n dn&'tsin uhse'mehsAn, - a"?, ma'win inuh apaihni'hseh, lkAta-n5'rnt, - 'naha'w, lkina-mit4'hnunaw lkili'yahin.' kay&s-1e~tdi'/pisit inuh apaIhni'hseh, d'hsi pan uwi'h ini? ts8ipj'hnah~ah inih d'hsipA'n-pimA~. ini2-pih tsi-nayd'1&it ulise'mel&8n. na'kah lkay~'s-is-manii'hnenit, iniwi'n-nakalt nAtu,'alhahnatsin. si kayd'?s-nakah Ana'milkuna'hamin, tsi-y~h-mit4'hnatsin. mni'hkah tsiw-inim-piAta'tua2 ta"? ini's as tsi-kUs-nipd'nit ani'nuh uki'ah85wawan, hdi'w, ini? teih s i' yahsamd.'tsin. alhp4'n niw md'win, kinumatsin ulki yAn. wiyii'pah misik tsi-nayd'lhit, misile s wd'paka'hnatsin, nd'hlkah ini'win misi'lc s piAta.'tua? as lce8-nim-ns'pd'nit. as di'yanapit 'inuh apdhni'hseh, tsi-kjs-p~'mit inuh mitdi'muh. as ii'yanapit inulh apeihni'hseh&, piip5'hkdku~nd'hnen kdi'kc64; ini?-pil& di'wik-nAtu'akund'skah; kAniwi'n, un6n&'kanan! k~s-kdlc6'skisu'atsRin nayi's niw.! aniwi'n un~nii'kanan mayind'tsin uhqZ'mehsmn s n65'ni nit. wiydi'pah misi'k tSi-MatsyA'tua2, sa~yeh tsi'kahkyah nim-ak6'tsh, lcAniwi'n niw indind'peh tiydipiwdi'lneh&. ini-piAt4'tua2, lCAniWi'fl, nuh uki'ehs~3wa'wan! ke'2)tsih ni-tii'tua2, nuh niidh'nisit naydw&t'tsin ulc%'yAn, 'ne?~h!/' inim-~vwd'hin nuh apidhni'kseh. 'sd'h sdi'h, sd'l&!' jwcd'hin inuh mitd'muh; 'a.-pi8-lc'wanimvwWiyA'IC,' tjwci'hin; 'lkAn wi' yAl nine'? ninitsi'AnelisAk,' 9wd'hin. pAyd'kwAts anisa'? wayitsiwi'tsin inuh mit4d'muh; uk6'?8imawan lui'w, iniwi'n-pih p65'mi-wdwZ'pi~tAt; may~'wanid'hklatah mehsj'wan, leayi8-na yi' hit, hpin d?'win maya'tsiAt nuh. inu'h tdih mitd.'muh iniwi'n-pih k6'timundi'tsin, 'kinu'at kilki'yahs~wiiw?' 'a'h,' ind'win; iniwi'n-.pih way9'htam~w&'tsin: 'nipis-pale~nileunaw; n5'hninaw kejs-pZWhtsihsin ispei'miah; di'hsipA'nAn ne'nAile. ini?-pih teh lea ye-pi8-Ma'tSiAt inuh nilki'yahsinaw.' iniwi'n-fpih ka'tindttsin. 'ndi'h-anu'm-e'? un6'n&'keanan,' inei'win, 'tsi-kejs-pis3-kaileisleisuatsin.' '5A!' ileu'ahin. inuh teh mitd'muh iniwin-pih payi'manit anuh n~nei'kanan. hii'w, iniwi'n-fpik, '6i', pi'Aleun!' ile'lein. payiAta'tu(a2, mdt8-kin6'htem ii'wiwin wj'keuwaw. muisipi'Ahlei tdh i'wiwin aninuh d'wani'kutua2. payi'htilee'tua2, payi'htiket nulh apdihni'hseh, siwas ap9'wanin uki'yAn. ini'? niw misi'le tsi-y~h-led'?t8-m6le inuh apdhni'hseh, 'ne?4Ah!' as inii'tgin, mnis s tsiw-ut4'htanit inuh nuJh 4'wani'leutua2. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 485 Then he said to his little brother, - for the boy was crying for his mother's breast, - "Now then, we shall follow our mother's tracks!" When the boy had bundled himself up, he put the raccoon-oil into a raccoon's bladder. Then he took his little brother on his back. In the direction in which she had gone to gather wood, he sought her tracks. Her tracks led off in an entirely different direction, and he trailed her from there. In the evening, when they reached the place where it seemed their mother had passed the night, there he fed his little brother. He was crying all the time, because he missed his mother. The next morning he took him again on his back, and again started to track her, and in the evening they came to where she had slept on the way. When the boy looked round, it seemed that that woman had taken a steam-bath. When he looked round, there something had made holes in the snow as it sank in; then he went and tramped the snow aside to see; all at once, her breasts! She had cut them both off. He gave them to his little brother to suck. On the next day, when they set out again, when the sun already hung low over the earth, suddenly within hearing was the noise of an ax. When they reached the place, there was their mother! As they came close, and the little one saw his mother, "Mama!" the boy kept calling. "Fie, fie, fie!" said the woman; "It seems someone is coming here and talking slander," she said; "I have no children," she said. That other person, in fact, was her husband's sister; she had now married this woman's brother. Then that woman said to her, "Sister-in-Law," she said to her, "Aren't those your children?" she asked her; "He knows you." Then she hurried her work; gathering the faggots into a bundle, she took them on her back, and was off. Then that woman asked them, "Is she your mother?" "Yes," he told her. Then he explained it to her, "She left us when she came here; our father fell into a hole in a tree; the raccoons killed him. Then our mother went away and came here." Then he drew forth those things. "Here, look, are her breasts," he told her, "which she must have cut off as she came here." "So that is the way of it!" she answered him. Then that woman put the breasts into the fold of her garment. Then, "Very well, come!" she said to them. When they reached that place, a great long-lodge was their dwelling. An unmarried woman was she who brought them there. When they went in, when that boy went in, there sat his mother. At once this caused the boy to cry aloud, calling "Mama!" to her, from where the woman who brought them had her settee. 486 486Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwin a'ts inuh ke~ts-ind'niw inuh wdi'sinima'tsin inuh mitdi'muh, 'pts-ko'2ts3 1cind'w&2 un~nii'kanan 8 a-maki'hsinenilc ninA'?' iniwi'n-pih inuh mitd.'muh kai'tina'tsin; anuh 5'hnAn- dnd~'9nama'pinit, iniwin a'hpakitu~wa'tsin. '1ckgk'h anu'm-d2 un~n&,'kanan? k~kd'h kitdi'wiha2? k&s-pi8-keikiski-,si win!' 1ha'wz, inuk ke~t8-ind'niwv iniwi'n a'ts, Yi-'htahsj'yah wvd'pah kinandi'hkah aniwi'n peipd't~91ini'kutua?; usa'kihsuwa'wan &'wiwvanin. kay~s-nip4'hikcutua?, iniwi'n-pilh way#j'htamnA'kutua2 nuh us&Vkihsen, 'nahM'w, UMnA'8 k~s-kusZ' yah, 8pa'miah ni2 s td-wjh-kehpZ'nikiydk. ayu' tdih ne3'hne'? ini2-pih uhpZ'2tawan ini2-pih aw-ahsiiman'ts9in lceyAwawan. ayaku'AMisinu'n ktih,' in4'win; 'umAs s sehV~hsine' yak nina-w&'nehlcem; islk6'tdw nina'w-a~tun. U~s-kusi'hitih, md'wa niw kAtaw-d'2tiyepa'watun slco'taw. k.Wspin ttik pima'tesi' yak, Y5?as a-nit~ndi'haman, IcWspin skota'wik. kina'piMUMV winah.' waydIipah iniwi'n-pik k5's8ih~tih kAta'W. hdi'w, inuh ke~ts-ind~'niuw ini? tsiw-an5'8iwet nuh apdhni'ks,%n, i-spdi'miah s a~sitd'hkqvahpi'nihtua2 m?neti'k-uh. ha'w, ini2-pih tsi-udp&'wanitih. ni? tdh tsi'w-itah kd?t8-ind'niw: 'nahd'tv, kit'hsaminine 'MUMV mama'tsi~taw; kki-ntdwd'nihtAMUWiMUAW!' kay&s-mdi'?tawanititua?, pii'pik ay~w kcdkc'kiw pis-pi'takutsinu'kin, pits-undi'pinit, kAtdi'w-kitsiydi'pah5'kutua?, winah ap y6"m 8 kjs-inihkVcitatua2, ta1htd'pasitua2 akikuh apdihni'hSAk. we' yAk ukp~'2tawiak tSi-pi8-t8i'kkiwewin. kit6kima'minaw kAt kipilh3'naw!' naw~'naw iniwi'n-pih payi'At kinj'w,. pit-s-un&,'pit. 'hdi'w, apahni'h8Ak!' ta'?, ayu,'m kdk&'kju) mdk-u~tsi'A76emesiwin. iniwi'n-pih kin~'w kayi'kitit: 'isj'h, kdka'kiw, kine'pa2 nuk! wd'ki tih pas mayi'hkwahfAmAn akum pdhni'hksAk? — h&'w, pind'nehku~n!' ini2-pih kaye~s-pehkk'nihtua? s d.yi'wani'htua2 ahki'hih. 'ki'spin kii'k~h ayu,'m ne'2tuk, kina-mdmb~'Mtihsim, kdkd'1cw!f' iniwi'n-pih a'SiAt usd'kihs3An s ki-s-w&'nehkenit. WAnakd'hkun kW8 -PitaT'kukhikd'win inuh mitti'muk. md'nawats mitsi' niw sk&'tdw; misi'k kj'ska?8ik4i'hseh iniwi'n as a'2tik. iniwi'n-pih kuftd'is d'wihp6'tawet. iniwi'n-pih Anuk uhs~mehs~n, 'd'. neh8s.'?. in& win, 'kti'k~h ppdm-ntiwd'pahtah sWkusikan.' ini'?-psh pa pm-ma tsiAt inuk aparn~h~eh~, papa M-nAtdWa'pahtak. kd'w, UinA'8 tak w,8'htawin pi'mikamik, s ki-pZ'mih; a?8ens'Anz 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 487 Then said that old man who was now the woman's father-in-law, "Why, you do not see her breasts standing out at all, do you?" Then that woman drew them forth; where her father sat facing, she threw them before him. "Are these a maiden's breasts? Do you take her to be a maiden? She cut them off on her way hither, they say!" Then said that old man, "As many as we are, tomorrow we shall move camp." At night that woman took care of them; she was, in a way, their aunt. When'she had put them to bed, their aunt told them, "Now then, when we move camp, you will be tied up in a tree-top. My father here will give you then as food to the flying fowl. Be on your guard," she told them; "Here where we lie, I shall dig a hole; I shall place some fire into it. When all have moved camp, all the fire will be flushed out with water. So, if you come out alive, this is where you will look for it, if it is still burning. But really you are as good as dead." The next day, they were all ready to move camp. Then the old man gave orders for the boys to be tied to a tree, high up. Then they started to go, in single file. And this was what the old man said, "Behold, I feed to you some human beings; you always desire this of me!" Then they all moved camp. When they had all gone away, one behind the other, at once these crows came sailing along, and alighted there, and wanted to peck out their eyes, and the poor boys twisted their heads like this, to dodge. The sky resounded with the coming of every kind of fowl. Then one spoke, "Fie, Crow, of course it is you! Let us wait for our chief!" Soon came the eagle and alighted. "Why, some boys!" And there was Crow, all eager. Then the eagle spoke, "Fie, Crow, of course it is you! What good eating could you have of these boys? - Come, take them down!" Then they were untied and one after another brought to the ground. "When this person kills anything, then you, Crow, will get something to eat!" At once then, he went to where his aunt had dug. She had covered the place with bark. There was still a little fire; and a little short knife lay there. Then he went and built a fire somewhere. Then he said to his little brother, "Now, Little Brother, look about for some scraps." Then the boy went about looking for them. Then he built a sweat-lodge, the kind where one takes steam-baths; he pulled 488 488 Publications, American Ethnolog'ical Society Vol. XII 1kits~wdi'pahewin, lkisi'Apehlcisu'atsin. Icayes-mnehku,'aPehlkisi'tua2, iniwi'n-pih payi'htikwdi'paha'tsin ini's. iniwi'n-pih MAi ini'h n&'p inis i'pahlkit nih Ikay~s-ppim-mci'watvnah inuh apdhni'hseh; ha'nuw winah iniwin payi'1htiket. nih teh d'hsipA'n-pi"mj'h iniwi'n s sisi' - lkahafpu'atsiket. ni'w-inuh sa y~'~kinah inis, iniwi'n-pih wd'puwiyd'nan mei'waw ayd'wilkin. hd'W, iniwi'n-pih dnd'ts8in Uhs8~'MehsAn, "h&'w, kAtdi's pii'hkini'na2; Ubi'Alcunah wdi'puwiya nan ani'nuh. pi'&t~ikc ii'8 y6' win a'na~tilcin wa'puwiy&'nan Iki'ANtS. ha'W, iniwi'n-pih s pj'nahkca'mikah d'wih-u-s~htuk wj,'kowaw. kayes-kesihtu~k, iniwi'n-pih payi'htilkutei'hitua2. nahdi'w, iniwi'n-pih wayeip-pafrp9'sit, umd'2tikwAn lkayes-uselh'tsin. iniwi'n tdih s kdi'?ts-ne~na'tsin apd'hsusun misilc aw4'h8An. kd'2, na's8ikAs3 mdmj'tsih85WAk1. alki'm kcay~,s-kusi'tua' iniwi'n s pu'awi~tatua2. nik5'tdis - kawi'n uj/i'hpisinan - dya'nitsi'nihsih, UMfA'8 tipii'h inih wg'lk~waw, iniwi'n 1kakc'kjw pd'mim-i' y~isawdi'2tAt. payi'At, inuh awet'hseh wZ'ninun 1kay&s-'wvi'tasuatsin, 'nahd'w,' ina'wmn, 'inuh ke~ts-ina'niw tipa-'h mnis wj'klcwa'? ini2 as a-palkitwdi'pinat ayum we nin,' ini win as-an~nii'tsin; 'nahii'w, palkitsw4'pinat ayum wj'nin, "kayjs-pakjndi'1ua2 pahni'hsAk!" ni? awmayd'tSiAt 1kdkd'Icw, tipd'h inis1 nuh 1ke~ts-indi'niw dya'nitsginihsinin. a', kin53'htem d'wiwin w~'ko-waw. ispa"'miah dnii'pit inuh ke?t8 -ind'niw, ini? as tsi-ndwd'tsin ka'Icah pmim-wa'2sitsinah. 'h#j'y, kdikd'1kw kef'Ik~h mi-wa'2s3itsinam!' ni? dni'tsin inuh. p4'kitswd'pinah, pi'takuti'win inih, ndn&'wilcamik. iniwvi'n WM't, 'imi's kayis-pakcind'kita? pdhni'hsAl!' pakdi's8ihnenin in8 'ha'w, wdi'hseh wiZ'nin!' ini'win d'ts inuh lkayis-pakinii'tin u~nisyA'nehk3An; 'pima'tes8yAsapanik ninitsyA'nehsAlc! ha'wv, iniwi'n dind'nihtak inuh kaye-s-sawc''nimatsin una'hkcwAndi'hs9An, 'hd', ts9i-pimdi'tesi'vwAl lkdh nind'hkwAn4'hsAkc! hd'', nina'wisiAM!' ta'?, pu'awi?tawAlc. nuh apdhni'hselh iniwi'n-pih d'nuna'tsin nuh uh86'meh8An: 'wayg'skiwah p6'nah; kissd'k-ihsin y6'hpih lkAta'-piw.' pimim-p6'namin nul& apdhni'hseh. ts9i-pi8-Ma'tSiAt inuh&mitdYmuh, pis-tdp&'pahtah, Md'w, w~'1cwaw, teihnd'hkuh~kanan, mi'tsim9'hsek, awd"'Iseh-m~'tsim9'hse1&! payi'A'Gesture of pointing upward. 1928 Bloom/ield, Menomini Texts 489 loose some stones, and heated them. When they were heated to a glow, he threw them in there. Then he made whatever lodgecovering he could out of the things the boy had collected; and then he went inside. Then he sprinkled about that raccoon-oil. When he had poured it four times, then all those things turned into blanket-robes. Then he said to his little brother, "Come, now open it for me; pull aside the blankets!" Inside there, like this lay blanket-robes, all round the place. Then, where the earth was undefiled, he went and built their lodge. When he had completed it, they moved in to dwell. Then he began to hunt, after making his bow. Then he was very busy killing deer and bears. So then, without trouble, they had plenty to eat. That was when they who had moved away suffered hunger. Then once, - he was not hunting, - as he lay there on his back, resting, Crow came sailing, this way and that, right over the house. "Here, Crow, just come here!" he called to it. When it came, he cut a round piece of bear's fat, and said to it, "Now then, right above the house of that old man and his people, you will throw down this piece of fat," was what he ordered him to do; "Now, when you throw down this fat, 'From the boys you abandoned!' is what you will say." Crow went away; right below there the old man was lying on his back. A long-lodge was their house. When the old man looked up, he saw Crow holding something bright in his claw. "Hey, Crow is carrying something bright in his claws!" he called to him. When he threw it down, that thing fell down in the center of the house. Then he said, "From the boys whom you abandoned over in yonder place!" The thing fell down there with a thud. "Oh, some bear's-fat!" she said then, who had abandoned her children; "And so my children are alive!" Then thought she who had taken pity on her nephews, "Well, it seems my nephews are alive! Well then, I shall go there!" For they were hungry. Then that boy bade his little brother, "Get something good to cook; our aunt is coming today." The boy set food to cook. When the woman came, when she came in sight of the place, why, there was their house, with shelf-places full of meat, bear's-meat! When she got there, she stood round outside. 490 490 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII payi'htiket, inij2 a8-klci'si'-Ahlit nuh apdhni'hselh. ta'2, md'wa ni lkd'k~h ki's-a~tuwdi'win ni8s k8 1~-wd'ne1&ket. iniwi'n-pih dnd'tsin uh8~'Mehs~n, 'aku'ahi8i'ahlkinun; kicis'lciksin tsi-pu,'awi~taw.' Ikayjs-akvuapi'hah inih und'lkanih. 'ha'w, niseki'2'. mitsihsinU'n!' 'mnu'? lkah Ikayis-kinwa'wilkit kinj,'w. - nahM'w, niku'h niw awini-kitj,'ska?8iyen una'pahtah m~'timiflhseh, misilc inuh awdi'hseh.' kayZ8-nayii'1it, Mdi'tsiAt, payyA'tdt, pi'htilkat~lk nih wj'was, j-'hinuh kay~8-pakcjnd'tsin, 'hyii'h' #9wd'hin, 'ninitsyA'neh8Akc pima-'tes3yA'8apArnk!' iniwin d'ts inuh mitdi'muh kay&s-pa~cnd'ts3in, 'hydAA, ninawisi'Am nirntsyA'neh&SAIk!' iniwirn s lkehNct'nawa'tsin inuh w4'kiahsit; iniwin 8 inii't~in, 'p6'nah m't~sim~'hseh; lkAta'-pitv kikic'yahin. UrnA'8 teh niw 8icu~'ahtemih UMnA's1 piS-i't, y6'? a-y~h-p6'hpinaman utndi'kan; ni? tcih aw-i'ndt: iniwi'n-pih nii'tutah a-k-i'?t8-Ice?-ik. nahd'w, iniwi'n-pilh layd'2t8 -k-e~silk. hd'i', ini2-pih mnum, t8%$-pi8-Ma'tsiAt. ta'?, ayum kj8-kcj'8isam kdi'tiw-ah8CiMa'tu~a2 ulki'ah85wawan. hM'w, nilk~td'8 iniwin 8a?ya'Ih s pitiwad'slkal. unii'lanih lkay~'8-a~tukc, nis eslku'ahtemilh s n~'puwit inulh apahni'hseh, hM'w, mnis eslku'aIhtemih UMA8 iniwi'n-pih nunpt3'1pinam5wva'tsin qtki'yAn. hat'nuw s wdwj'pi~tat: 'hi', ninitsyA'nehsAk, saka'nal& nilki'watsim!' iniwin wdh-kU'kitutawva'tsin inuk u..nt'hsimaw: 'Mb'w, wdwZ~'pi~tah s a-lkit&'man.' ha'w, nik~tai's iniwin s p6'hlk~wet. iniwin ana'tsin uhsZ'meh8An: 'ts'2napAmin lciki'yahin; ini'? tsi'awdi'2sZ'kiwv Yh-ayum!' in4'win nuh uki'yAn; 7kik&s-nand'hpaldt~sindiwvi'him as kjs-pakcj'8iyah!' iniwin-pih kuitdi'na8 kayj8-isitJ'tsimatua?. way&'pah, 'Md'w, kisdi'kihsin kAtdi'-piW; tsip&'kkinun,' indi'win. sOwdw y5'pa? pitS-isi'At!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 491 Then he spoke to her, "Well, Aunt, come in!" he told her. When she came in, the boy finished his cooking. For all kinds of things she had placed for them, there where she had dug. Then he told his little brother, "Serve out the meal; our aunt must be hungry." When he had poured it out into a bowl, "Now, Aunt, have something to eat!" When she had eaten, she asked him, "How did you manage to stay alive, poor things?" "It was the eagle who put a stop to it. - Now then, choose as much meat as you will be able to carry, and some bear's-meat." When she had taken it on her back, and set out, and arrived, and brought in her pack, then she who had abandoned them said, "Dear me! And so my children are living!" He had told her, "When you have eaten all of this, come fetch some more." Then said the woman who had abandoned them, "Dear me, I shall go to my children!" Then he whose mother she was knew what she intended; then he said to the other, "Get some meat to cook; our mother is coming. And when she is right here at the door, it is here through the door that you will hand her her bowl; and this you will say to her, 'Wait; when you have eaten it all, then you shall come inside!'" Then he asked for very cold weather. Then it grew very cold. Then she set out to come. This boy had cooked done what they were going to serve their mother. Then, after a while came the sound of her footsteps. Putting it into the bowl, the boy stood by the door. Then through the door there, he handed it to his mother. "Eat right here. Later, when you have eaten it all, you will come inside." Although she hurried, "Oh, children, I am almost frozen!" Then from inside the older brother spoke to her, "Now, do hurry and finish your meal!" Then, after a while, the sound of her speech died away. Then he said to his little brother, "Look at our mother; by now she must be frozen to death." When he opened the door-flap, there she lay, curled up, frozen to death. "What does this person amount to!" he said of his mother; "You deeply angered me, when you abandoned us!" Then they dragged her off somewhere. On the next day, "Now, our aunt is coming; prepare a meal," he said to him, and the boy cooked a meal. Soon she came. She entered the lodge. When he had given his aunt something to eat, then she said, "I thought your mother had come here!" 492 492Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'Ihu', 1cs-kawa'tsi 1cM,' ina'wAlkin; 'ini2 fliw alcu'Atsih as kUsahsgi'maki1h. nitflAtahpend'hdw,' Zwd'hin. 'salka'nah pu 'awi~taw.,k-.' iniwin-pih dnd'tsin us8d'kihSAn, 'pas pi8-kus~'hit~wAkc; a-pi8 -y6'm-a-ne~ni'htwVAt5WAl mZ'tsime'hseh wii'pah,' indi'win. kuwaw, na'p mis as a-w~h-ne~ni'htwAtiydk~ inih me'time'1hseh.' waud',pah, ini2-pih tsi-pis-kusi'hitilh; ndi'1kah ini'win-pih pay~'hkusitua'?. 'jh-y6's na'p i'nun, UMAs ni'kinanuwa2,' in/i'win vs8i'ki1hSAn. a'ta2, iniwi'n-pih tdh me~tiku'alhselh kayZ'hne1&kutah, nd'hkah yii'hpits, ani'nuth tiIhni'hkuIhi'kanan inih MZ'tSiMg'Ase1& pip&'mpatsZ'skahah inulh apdhni'hseh. ani'nuh teh- us4'kilhs~wJ'wan isk6'n~amowa'win: kAwin upa'tsiskaha'nan aninul&, waye-'htam~wed'tua? anuh vsdi'kihs~wiv'wan: 'hJ'w, anu'2 kina'h apI' ka'W, ini'win~ kd'2ts3ih as nipdi'nit W~'1kwa2. waydi'pa1h, sa~yah waya'pah, -- iniwin niw lke'2tsi& asi'kan~'hsihkiw, - sa~ydh pd'miwd.'pah, kAni'win niw kdi'Ikh &niw'i'kah inih asi'kani'hsihkiw, umdi'hkahk5'hsAk. 'awdi'2sj'kiwAkc aku'm kdt'tiw-ahsa'nitua? niy6'nawan! nahud'w, y6'2 as aw-inim-tandi'siyek aw-ii'ts-ahlki'-talkik. umii'hkahk~wAlk lkinaw-ilkd'muAw.' apZ' nun, 'in/i'win. niwin as lcand'wihetitua2. 110. DEER-WOMAN'S CHILDREN. (MAskwawdi'nahkwAt61k) nahM'w, we'kiwAkin akik mita'muhsAk. iniwi'n s kiw-awMh-nawin4'tua; me~tiku'minan ki-pi'tuwe'wAkin urntsyA'neIhsowd'wan. ni'8iwAnin inuh apei'Isuis unitsyA'nehsAn; wi'nal& ap i'nuh niku't Ata'1 wi'noa& ap ni'8iwanin UnitsyA'nehsAn. in~i'wvin iceh a'nanii'hketua? as kiw-aw~h-nauwind'tua?. ini'win as un/i'kit inulh apd'hsus,. ini'win drdi'nilhtal& inuh Ata'1h, 'pas nind'2naw ~'h-ayum apei'hsUs; ini'2 sa~y'i'h as iinii'kit.' nakhi'w, weydi'pah Misi'k matsi'wAkin as awgh-nawindi'tua2. ini'win as ne~na'tsin anulh apdi'hsUSUn inu'h&Atdh. kay&a-w9'nanik/i'tsin, iniwi'n-pihtpis-ke,'wdt; ukd'hkama'wan pind'win. ini'win-pih kayi's-piAt weZ'k6wa2; 'wZ'kup$'skimutih UMA~'s pi'hsikun,' in/i'win anukhApalhsu86'h8An. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 493 "Hoo, she froze to death," they told her; "Right outside here was where we gave her food. I made her perish," he said. "They are almost starving!" Then he said to his aunt, "They can move to this place; they can come tomorrow and share this meat," he told her. The woman went and reported, "You are invited to go there, to share that meat." On the next day they broke camp to go there; by evening they had come all the way with their household. "Just stay right here in our house!" he said to his aunt. Then the boy sharpened some little sticks, and at night jabbed those little pointed sticks into the meat on the shelf-places. They spared only their aunt; he did not transfix the pieces of which they told their aunt, "These are for you." Now near the boys' house slept those others. In the morning, when dawn came, - close by that place was a marsh, - when day had come, suddenly there was a noise in that marsh, the croaking of little frogs. "What do these persons amount to, who wanted to feed our bodies away! - Now then, this is where you shall continue to dwell, as long as there is an earth. Frogs you shall be called!" Then he said to her, "Now, Aunt," he told her, "Come and sit here!"' he told her. Then they were married to each other. That is all. 110. DEER-WOMAN'S CHILDREN. (Maskwawanahkwatok) Those women dwelt in a place. They would go off and gather acorns; they brought them home for their children. Deer-Woman had two children, and Elk-Woman also had two children. That, then, was the way they did; they went off and gathered berries.2 Then Deer-Woman grew plump. Then Elk-Woman thought, "Suppose I kill this Deer; she is now plump." On the next day they went out again to gather berries. Then Elk-Woman killed Deer-Woman. When she had skinned her and cut her up, she came home; the lengthwise fat meat of her back she brought home. When she had got home, "Get inside that basswood sack!" she said to Deer-Woman's children. 1 Sharing the settee is symbolic of marriage. 2 The acorn is in Menomini a kind of berry: "tree.berry". 494 494Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kay&s-p~'hnahatsin ini's mininiti'hsih, ini'win-pih di'kuna'tsin mins ispa"'mm'a UrnA's ini'Ih iskc6'tdw 4nd'pa?tik; iniwi'n as ak~nii'tsin anuhA apdi'hsus6'hSAn. kayj8-akc~nd'tsin, iniwi'n-pilh ayi'watulk inih mW't~sime9'hseh. ma'waw kay~s-i'watulk, iniwi'n-pih mdih1kii'hAiwapit inih m~tsimti'heh. in~itLi'n-pih ak'uh nitsi'Anuk kayakdi'lititua2 as nitiwdimd'tua5 u.ki'ahs~wawan. 'ini'? niw as i'; mitsi' niwv nawj'ndiw kiki'ahs~vwaw,' ind'win anuh api'Asuws5'h8An, as a'pit inih mni'tsimi'hseA. ini'win-pih kayd'kit,5wd'tik- iniA rnj'tsim~'hseh. 'nikiAA, wvine'2 ni nd'2sit!' jwdi'hin inuh mRnsimi'hseh. ini'win as kehki'nahkua2 lkuA nitsi'Anuk as 1c8'-ne~nimih anuA,ali'ahs5wawan. iniwi'n-pih pdi'ni?tatua? alcuk nits yA'nuk; ta'?, sa~ye'h ki~s-rnats~ivin inuh Ata,'h s awdh-naw~'ndt rnisi'k. ini'win-pih nd'9natsin anuA nitSi'Anun inuth apdhni'AseA?Ond'hsimaw anuA inuh Ata'h unitsi'AnehsAn. kay~s-ne~na'tsin, iniwi'n-pih mdi'2tik a wih-lVskcahah. ni's pitd'win nuh mnetikWAn. iniwi'n-pih naydpd'hkuhatsin nayi's niw anuh nitsyA'nun. iniwi'n-pih tsay~'patuk nuh me~ti'kwIAn as wd'witd'hkikapuwihii'tsin. iniwi'n-pih anuA -lkd'Ihkama'wan, -- y6',win ayd&'yahlkit inith ulc&'hlcamaw, - ani'win nayi'mahtinii'tsin nuth nitsyA'nun nuh apdihni'hseh. 'nahdi'w, nehsW', kAt kitilt'sirni2 ind,'win 5hst~mehsAn; 'leina'pis-ne~ni'kunaw, pi'At inuth ANa. ta'2-nuh as MdtsyA'tua?, ini'wi-n asi'Icani'hsihlciw as inirn-nd'milkua2, apdhni'AsAk; ini'win as kdi8k&'Akitsimd'ts3in anuA u&s~'mehs3An?. ini'win as ldi'2ts-mok inuh apdhni'AseA. ini'win as inim-nii'mik pyA'k-iminan; ini'win s naw~'ndt s ahsdmd'tsin anuh uWs'meh8An. iniwi'n-pih pay&f'natimit inuth ni'tSiAn. iniwi'n-pih payi'At inuh Ata'h. pis-tdpii'puma'tsin anuunA fltsy'nehsAn, we'htsitaw ini'win as pis-1dits-Jyd'ne~na'tsin. 'ta? ~'h-akcum, d'si~tatua2?. kina-ni'Akuwa'WAkc aki'kuh wdlci'ahsitua? inuth nayi'mamek! wZ'kiw tsi-kNs-mehk&'Akva? inih mi'tsim~'hseh!' ini'win-p'ih tsi-piAt&'wipa'htuk. ahka'nnh tsi-ks-ne')ni'htva?, tsiIcs-n&'pahkcuhiI'Atua2 aklch nitsyA'nuk! as kaki~t&'hkuna'tsin ani'nuh Units yA'nehSAn, 'ta'2-nalcah p6'ts3 aw~Apdi'hiyek, lkd'timahei'Ika2 ninitsyA'nehAskl? po6'ts keA niw Ikinane~ni'nine'MUAw lcinua2 ap!' jwii'Ain at4'A. inuA wi'naA apd-hni'hseA as mdk-pimj'pahtuk, lcAni'win se' pew pe'mihneh. siwas apj'win sii'2sakiw. cniMeh8s6A2 dsu'ahusiZ'yah; awdi'tuk nipi'tinesih6'kunavw!.' 'nah&'w, nuhsi'A, nawii'ts-inii'2sina2!' ta'?, ini'win nuhA apeihni'hseh s indi'2natsin. 'ayum-e'2, nimehs6'2, nilku't!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 495 When she had put them into that sack, she hung them up in the place where the smoke of the fire goes out'; that was where she hung those deer-children. When she had hung them up, she hauled in that meat. When she had hauled it all, she roasted the meat on the embers. Then those children kept crying for their mother to come. "She is right out there; your mother is still gathering berries," she told the children, while roasting that flesh. Then 'that flesh cried out as it was roasting, "My son, it was she herself killed me!" said that flesh. Then did those children know that their mother had been slain. Thereupon the children came down from where they were; for by this time Elk-Woman had gone away again to gather berries. Then the older boy killed those children, Elk-Woman's children. When he had killed them he went out and cut some sticks. He brought two sticks. Then he impaled both of those children's bodies, and set up the sticks so that they stood facing each other.2 Then this lengthwise strip of meat, - as long as this was that lengthwise cut of meat, - that boy put it into the mouths of those children. "Come, little brother, let us flee," he said to his younger brother; "If that Elk comes, she will kill us." So then they went away. Then, on their way they came to a marsh; there among the bushes he got his little brother scratched. Then that child wept very much. Then, as he came upon some cranberries, he gathered some and gave them to his little brother to eat. Then the child ceased weeping. Then Elk-Woman came home. When she came within sight of her children, indeed then she scolded them severely as she approached. "What are these youngsters doing They will see you, they whose mother you are eating! They must have found that meat after all!" Then, when she had got there on the run, some time ago those children must have been killed and set up on sticks! Pulling her children off the sticks, "Where can you run to escape me, you that have brought ruin on my children? I surely will kill you too!" said Elk-Woman. But that boy, as he ran on, there, at one time, was a river flowing by; and there sat a heron. "Grandfather, ferry us across; a spirit is pursuing us hither!" "Very well, Grandchild; but first look for lice on my head." So then that boy looked for lice on his head. "Here, Grandfather, is one!" 1 Right under the smoke-hole in the roof of the wigwam. a Literally, "head to head". 496 496Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'pi'Idcamin, nulhsi'h,' jwii'hin sa'2sakiw. ini'win-pih lkutd'2nas di'hpakindi'tain ki'm~ts; ini'win-pih PYA'kimin wiitd'Ipinah as pi'Ihkalhtal nuh apdhni'hseh. 'hdi'w, jnj'2, nuWhse',' iku'ah in; 'sa~e'h kina-mis&'kdim.' ini'win-pih akd'm~iah pdits,'skihznit~k inih UtSi'AS inuh 8a'2sakiw. 'naka'w, nuhsej'h, kAtd'8 &'su~kenun!' ini'win as a'suket inuh p~hni'hsehi. ini'2 keh as kes-a'8uket inuh apaIhn'IhseIh, kayis-pi'Atat ini's akcd'miah, iniwi'n-pilh wdtii'hpinal& ini'h&Ut8V'As inuh s&'2sakew s d'ya.,pit. ini'win-pih wi'nah maya'tsiAt inulh a~pdIni'hseh. ini'win-pilh sa~yd'h payi'Ihpalhtuk inuh Atdi'h, 5 pi8-naWa'ts8in wi'nalh a~p sd'2sak-e'wAn. ta'? telh aw-isj'2tAt s a-misd'kdt? 'naw&'t8-&su,'aIhusi'na2!' ind'win anuh 8a'2sakce'wAn. 'naw~t't8-in&'2sina2,' iwa'Ihin inulh sdi'2sakew. enii'2nih?' 'ini'2 keh nisi'k s aw-dasu'ah~ninan,' iw&'hin s&'2?sakiw..nahd'wt kel&, kinaw-inda'2nin,'.Tw''hin Ata'h. ini'win-pih di'na~natsin. 'pi'1hkamin,' iwa'hin Scd'2sakiw. 4sd'h!' iwa'hin Ata'I&, 'aw4'ni2 tsiw-a-wVnipit?' kute'?nas alhpi'kinewin. 'we' ats disu'ahUsina2!' inii'win. iniwi'n-pilh akdi'miah tsa yg'patuk inih utsi'As sii'?s8akew. 'nalhi'w, k-Atc's ii'sukenun!' ind'win. ta'?, iniwi'n-pilh inuh Atd'h ayii'suket. aya'pehtaw ilhpih payi'Atat, ini'win-pih Ic6dti'ki~tAt inuh sdi'?sakew. iniwin kelh nipi'hih as pci'pehtsil& inu'h Ata-h; ini'? keh as ni pai'k. ini'2-pih wi'nah wdtdi'hpinah ini'Ih utsiAs sci'2salew. ta'?, wi'nah nuhk apchin'Iiseh ahpai'n niw miyd' niw isi'win. nik~td's aydi'wilk, ini'win mdt8-ke~tsi'kam as piAta'tua?. hci'w, ini'win as pin~md.'tsin u4hsj'Meh8An. 'na,McI'w, nehs~'2, y6'? as a-tii'tasi'kiyah,' inci'win anuh uh&g'melhsAn. as diiy'tua2 misi as tdtasi'kitua?, ini'win as kehktgni'kutua? ani'nuhI ke~ts-i nc'ni wAfl. kAni'win me~ti'ke6s pis-nci'kwah, as8 mcik-myAnci't~si~tA'tua'? akul& apalhni'/hAk. pis8-sc'hlc-ihsi'nin inul& ke?t8-in4'niw. 'nuhsg'h,' iwd'khin, 'ns'pa"'slhnen p'is-nitiiw&'pahtamii'? nislcg'k-,sikculd' Pci'pilk awli-p6'siwin nuh u?ntd'Ihsimaw as aw~h-rnitciwc'pahtamowa'tsin inih upa'ssihnAn. rnitus mci'tsiahci'A!' iwci'hin inuh ke~t8-ind'niw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 497 "Crack it with your teeth, Grandson!" said the heron. Thereupon the boy secretly threw it down somewhere; then he took a cranberry and cracked it between his teeth. "There! Very well, Grandson," the other said to him; "Now you shall cross." Then the heron stuck out its bill till it reached the other side of the stream. "There now, Grandchild; come, cross the bridge." Thereupon the lad crossed as on a bridge. So now when the lad had got safely across, and had reached the other side, the heron took in its bill and stayed sitting there. The lad went on. Then soon Elk-Woman came running that way and, in her turn, saw the heron. How was she to get across? "Just put me across, will you?" she said to the heron. "Just look for lice on my head, will you?" the heron answered. "Faugh!" said Elk-Woman; "Who would dirty his fingers looking for your lice?" "Only on that condition will I set you across," said the heron. "Very well, then; I shall look for lice on your head," said ElkWoman. Thereupon she looked for lice on its head. "Here is one," she said to him. "Crack it with your teeth!" said the heron. "Fie!" said Elk-Woman; "Who will dirty his mouth that way?" She threw it down somewhere. "Quick! Set me across!" she said to it. Then the heron stuck out its beak to the opposite bank. "Very well; cross the bridge!" it said to her. So then Elk-Woman went as on a bridge. When she had got halfway, the heron gave a sudden twist; into the water fell ElkWoman and perished. Thereupon the heron drew in its bill. As for that lad, off he went, always straight on ahead. Then, at one time, they reached a great sea. Well, then he set down his little brother from his back. "Well now, little brother; here is where we shall stay," he said to his younger brother. While they were staying here, making their home by the edge of the water, that old man got knowledge of them. Suddenly, at one time, a dug-out canoe came into sight, as those boys were at play. The old man came and beached his canoe. "Grandson," he addressed him, "come look for what has fallen into my eye." Straightway the older boy got into the canoe to find the thing that had fallen into his eye. "My boat, be off!" said the old man. 32 498 498 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII pd'pik n6'2s64 inimn-piAta'makatin inih rne?ti'k~s. ini'win wi'nah inuh as Idi'2ts-m~k inuh apdihni'hseh s naw~md'tin, u~ndi'hSAn. 'ne~nehj'h, ne~nehj'h!' iniiti'm~win. ta'?, ta? pas a'Si?tAt s a-piS-WAske't inUh Apahni'hseh? payiAtd'tua2 mnis wi'k5wa2 inuh 1ke?ts-indi'niw, utdi'nan ta'WAnin. 'nah&'w, nita'h, ayu,'2 a-wj'kimat.' ind'win anuk utii'nan. ta?, inuh mitd'muh ini'win an&'tsin ndi'hkah anuh apdlhni'hsAn, '1cikd'timd'ht~un kWyaw. nina'? idhk sa~ye'h me?,sih ne'2new ind'niWAn 9'h-ayum n6'hne2. kina-w6'htamun teh aw-ise'Wa yen. wa'pah " kinawaw1&-pahp9'si2," kinaw-iku'aIh. aydku'AMisi'nun; ifli'? as tdjw-awj'1hne~nih. kinaw-pit'tskAn&'paIhtanan anul& kimd'hkesinan. ktjs-ak5'tawan anuh kiml.'hkesinan, ini'2-pih wina'h ap aw-akc6'tk anuh umi'Ihkesinan. kAnkawct'h s aw-ise'tW, ini'?-pih 1cWm'ts a-pinii'naman ani'nulh kimii'Ikesinan s a-p52sgi'hkaman,' iku'ahin; 'Iu'w, mi'p 6ni't, ani'? ni ndi'2tam aw-utii'hpinah anuh uma-'hkesinan, iskii'tiah s aw-a1hpd'kitah. ki'ndh teh wi'nal& kina-p62sd'hkanan anul& kinu'hkesinan s a-nipui'yan,' ikii'aIhin ninuh Mita'MUhsAn. kI.,'?tin wVAyct'pah, 'nah&'w, pas kit&'wih-pahpg'8i2!' iku'aIhin nuh ke~ts-indi'niWAn. 'naha'w!' ind'win, s awMh-pii'situa? mte~tik6'nih. 'wd'htsita Idi'2tin ini'win as kisi'pitek inih me~ti'k5s. kah wt~'nuh piAtd'u'Akin ini's dsyA'tua2. kay~S-PiAtd'tua2. iniwi'n as kdi'2tspdi'?nah. ta?, n6d'hkah tsi-pit'tawvetua2, iniwi'n-pih pdi'hpehkit inuk ke~ts3-indi'niw as ak6't~k. ini'win-pih wti'nah ap nuh apdhni'hseh j/i'hpehkit as ak6't~k umdi'hkesinan. inirn-usi'hsinin inuh ke~tsrna'niwv; ta?, wi'nah apdhni'1hseh kAnd'pahtamin umd'hkesinan s a-pa'O9tekin. kayZ8-pd'2tikin, ini'win-pih pd'ninah ntuh aplilni'hseh um&'hkesinan as wa's~t. tsiw-ini'-nipdit, nik6'ds unj'win inuh ke~tsinei'niwi; pin&'namin anuh vmdi'hkesinan, iskii'tiah s ahj/i'kitah. ini-ydih-usj,'h8inin as ni'piit inuh ke~ts-indi'nitv. mi'p sa?ye'h un~'win inuh ke~ts-ini' niw. 'utsV'?ta-kj's62 kUs-ak6'tsin; unj'nun!' ini',win anukh apdhni'hsAn. ta'?, winah p/ihni'hseh un~'win; ta?, kUs-wd'sjtv wi'nah. ya'hpits ki'nune'hamin uma'hkesinan ke~t8-inft'niw. ta'? teh aw-i'tedh? ta?, ndi'wdiw anuh apdhni'hSAn as wds9'nit. ta?, mdnd'win k6'n, ti'pah d'hkwah as pd'?nah. matdiip'pahtawin wi'nah apehni'hseh s aw*jh-sa~ye'h wina'h ap inuh ke?ts8-in4'niw, 'nit5,s pya'nuni'h!' iwd'Ihin. pis-ydih-as~'pite'win inik me~ti'k~s. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 499 At once that dug-out was way out in the middle of the water, as it went along. Then that boy wept greatly, grieving for his elder brother. "Big brother, big brother!" he cried. But what could that lad do to come back? When they reached the old man's dwelling, there he had a daughter. "Now then, daughter, this boy is whom you will marry," he said to his daughter. Then that woman at night said to the lad, "You are bringing ruin upon yourself. You must know that this father of mine has by now killed many men. I shall tell you what to do. Tomorrow, 'Let us go hunting,' he will say to you. Be on your guard; that is when he will want to take you off and kill you. You will keep a close watch over your moccasins. When you have hung up your moccasins, he too will hang up his. While he is doing this thing and that, do you secretly take down your moccasins and put them on," she told him. "Then, in the morning, when he gets up, it will be his own moccasins that he takes first and throws into the fire. But as for you, you will be wearing your moccasins while you sleep," said the woman to him. And in truth, the next morning, "Well, suppose we go hunting!" the old man said to him. "Very well," he answered, and they went and embarked in the canoe. When they had taken their places, "My boat, be off!" he said. Truly then with speed flew that wooden canoe! In a short time they reached the place whither they were bound. When they had got there, it snowed very much. So, at night, when they had built their fire, the old man took off his footgear and hung up his moccasins. Thereupon the lad, too, unclad his feet and hung up his moccasins. The old man lay down to sleep; but the lad kept an eye on his moccasins while they dried. When they had dried, the lad took them down and clad his feet. While he was asleep, the old man, at one time, got up, took down his moccasins, and threw them into the fire. The old man went back and lay down again to sleep. Early in the morning the old man arose. "A scorchy moon has been hanging aloft. Get up!" he said to the lad. The lad, for his part, got up; his feet were clad. The old man could not find his moccasins at all. But what could he say? Of course he saw that the lad's feet were clad. Now, there was much snow, for it had been snowing all night. The lad ran down to the water and got into the boat. When he had got in, "My boat, be off!" he said. In an instant the canoe sped out far from the shore. Then that old man, in turn, "My boat, come hither!" he said. Back flew the boat over its course. 32* 300 Publications, American Ethnological ASocCiey Vol. XII ta'2, wi'nah ap inu,'h apehni'hseh ini'win niw ahpd'n d'ts, 'nit6s kjs-an~Ihi'win anuh ke~ts-ina'niWAn. payi'Atat w~'kWwa2, 'ini'2 keh as w~'8kiwah!` ilku'ahin anuh wZ'wan; 'usd'min sa~yd'h ne~ne'w MAMa'tsi2tauwan; ini'? niw sawh ' naha'w, kAt k'ik5'sV,2,' iwii'hin nuth apdhni'hkseh; 'nehsj'h nikjspis9-nikd'nd~w UMAs ak-d'miah. lcitiwih-nt~ndh6'naw.' iniwi'n-pih payii'situa2, nakah kayZ's-aw~'h-uhtk'nilkut anuh kdPts-inii'niwAn. payiAta'tua2, IkAn wi'yAn uhs'rnehsAn. ini'? teh niw as tsiw-wdwi'kitua2, as pii'pahpisit k6'na mmn niw as nt~ndhii't~~in wj'matan. nikota's keh niu' as paIhpg'sit, kAmi'win payi'hpahtuk iUd'niw; awa'h8An pis-nay~m4'win. as tsi-naWa'tsin inuh apdhni'hgek, ahpj'hsehklat niw, me~ndi'hkv,85wAn pi8-kadhtwa'pine'win. lea yjfpi'pehtsih inu,'h rne,-tik., ini'win niw as pi'hlcinet. pale t6md't,9in anuh awd'h8An, una'lkesiAn ini'win as a'pit inuh ind'niuw. ini'win-pih di'siAt inuh apdhlni'h~seh. 'ni'kleek nap nelhsZ'h tsiw-di'wiw-eh!' ind'nihtAmin; 'ta'?, nina-nindi'wdw ini's s ke-s-keidskdi'hkeit~iMAk; ini? a-y~h-nini&'wAke,' inii'nihtAmin as tst'w-isiAt. 'ini'?, leh, ndhs8', as w9'slciwah as mehle6'nAn!' 'ahlka'nuh nilegs-maIklei'mikeem ne'?nel,' Isiw iwd'hin nuk apdlhni'l&seh. 'kA'n, nehsiW?, nine'? niw ayii'wi yen; pye'nun; nis kay&s-y6hmdt~si'yen, ini'? as wE'leiyan; nikejs-awjhl-anj'hiw inulh le?ts-ind' - niw. mini9 telh as a'?tile inih me'?tike-s,' indi'win uWs'MelhSAn. ini'win keh uwj'kiw as peht&'keut as Witti'Akle~ ii's9 as wi'kitua?. mi'?" keh ma'waw. ill. TWO BROTHERS OVERCOME A SORCERER. (Joseph Satterlee) nilcut lee?ts-indni'alhseh waw~'kiwin miyii'wilhkAnaw. ta/kUAle'wi kin ikhpl ki-pah~pi'silh, iniwi'n lki-p'pim-i8yA'tua? as lei-w~1h-pap,?'situa?. nalud'w, ay6'w tdh ke?ts-ineini'alhseh MAt8i'-Mita'W d'wiwin. WiyAke as ki-Ue's-ne?tAldi't ajxi'hsus8un, ti'?, d'wi niw ini's as pimi'm-ina'?sit anum apd'hsusun. ay6'w tdh lets-indni'alseh iniwin as leiwi' y~pit miyii mi'hileAnih. nahd'w, naydwd'tsinin an~h pahpe'8iw.&n s pi'ta?sinit apd'hsusun, dy4'ninih niw leiw-&'wiwin. 'keit'nini'?tAmuAW!' lkiw-ind'win Anih pahpj's8iWAn. t0i', aleilku ki-lene'wAlein anulh ke?ts-indni'ah8An. iniwin Ikdh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Text8 501 But the lad, too, incessantly said. "My boat, be off!" He kept saying this all the time. He overcame the old man. When he reached their dwelling, "This is good, indeed," said his wife to him; "Too many people he has already killed. Now he will perish, out there" said the woman. "Well, then, let us move camp," said the lad; "I left my little brother behind on the other shore over there, when I came; let us go seek him." Thereupon they embarked in the canoe, for the place whence the old man had taken him. When they came there, his little brother was gone. So there they dwelt while he went hunting thereabouts and at the same time looked for his brother. Then once, as he was hunting, suddenly a man came running; he was carrying a bear on his back. The lad saw him; running as hard as he could, he knocked over a dry dead tree. When the tree fell, it caught fire. The man set down the bear he had been carrying on his back, and began to roast its entrails. Then the lad went up to him. "It may perchance be my brother!" he thought; "I shall recognize him by the place where I scratched him against the brush; from that I shall know him," he thought, as he approached. And truly, when he got to him, it was his younger brother. "At last, little brother! How good that I have found you!" "A long time ago my older brother was taken from me," was all the youth said. "No, little brother; it is really I! Come; the place from which I went away, that is where I live; I overcame that old man out there; and there, too, is that dug-out," he said to his younger brother. So then at last the other believed him and went with him to where they were dwelling. And that is all. 111. TWO BROTHERS OVERCOME A SORCERER. (Joseph Satterlee) A certain little old man dwelt right by the road. In autumn when people hunted, then past there they would go on their way hunting. Now, this little old man was a sorcerer. When anyone had made a killing of deer, he had to pass by there carrying that game. There he would sit, square in the path. Then, whenever he saw some hunters come carrying their deer, he would break into a laugh. "You are doing well!" he would say to the hunters. Of course, those people used to fear that little old man. So then 502 502Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII,as pAtskV'SAMUWa'tua? an~h apd'hsusun. iniwin wd'htisit mni's Miydi'wihkA'naw as 1kiw-a'yAJpit. nilc~ti's niwv as di'wik, nis UWe'MAte'toAlk aweh-pabpZ'siwAlkin. iniwin as ne~takdt'tua2; iniwin t~ih inim-inii'2situa2 ayum lke~tsindni'ahsehb as d'yapit. 'kitiinini'2tAMUAW!' uhts~'m~win ke~ts-indi'niw. W"Ah, nita' ninihesi'minaw!' ina'WAkin alcu'm uwj'MAtehtow4Alc. 'hm'! wi',3ki-tsj'pa yAk!' hiwa'hin inuh ke~ts8-indni'ahseh. f,'2, kay&s-ini-pimdi'skcAtua2, wdipa'nimi'siwin nuh uh&~mimaw. 'wj', pi'nah, jx~n s4'kcisin~n!' iku'ahin anih wZ'matAn; 'kina'? ap niwv awti'tukAk kita'wi2; kinaw-usdh3'naw sa~yd'I&. ihlcu'ah mniwdnfI'skitini'n!' payiAta'tua2 w~'kwa?, iniwin pis-y~h-nAWindh&'tua2 an6I& ke~tsindtni'ahsAn. s mdk-inu'h-sikcats-pi'Ihtuk s a-wAni'tipdi'hkah, kdi'yes niw tsi-ks-U8e'2tAt, awa'h8Aku,'MiAn tsi-kCs-p5?8d'hkAuw'tsin, s mdk-sdseAhU'hsih undped'kAnih. iniwin-pih ak5w ini-piAtMa'ta UWi'MAte'&toAl. inuk 62nd'hsimaw inu'win tah ntd'wineha'tsin. kinft'pikun winah ap pjht5'skAwewin. iniwin teh anih ihku'An s awjhPAke'tinamowa'tsin aninuh awa'Ih&xn uhpei'niah, s mak-sikii'tspi'htu~nilc s a-WAn~'tipa'hkah. iniwin-pik sa~ya'h wayd'pipu'nisit uhpa'nyah. iniwin tdih niw, kay~'s-is-tawZ'punesit s nipd'k. iniwin tih 4hpi'htisi'tuta2 akum u(WZMAtj'htoWAIk. 112. THE SNAKE-MAN. (nelhtsi'wihtuk). naM'w, ind'ni kdh wvdw4'kiwin; uki'en w~kime'win. d8u,'Akam iniwi'n wina'h ap as utei'htanit wveyAwvekehko'hseJ&; nan&'kulhtiah min'win wina 'h ap as u~td'htanit u,?n4'hsimaw; ana'h8An td'wanin in'uh ind'niw. &', kawi'n nik6'tuh kute'2nas utaSi'Anan inuh ina'niw uOnd'hsimaw. inu,'h tdh uhs~'mnimaw in6'wlin ki-pahp~'sit, nAtawj' 2tawa'tsin uk'Afl. hni'ta2, apd'hsusun wehtsita'w MiAn6'wihe'win as ne~nA'tsin; misi'k tith awd'h8An MiAno'wihe'win as ki-ne~na'tsin inuh uhsi'mimaw. ha'w, nik~td's aya'wik, iniwi'n sa~ya'h as w~htam~w&'tsin u~'kiAn: 'ha'w, nik&'taw-nAtii'hkiwem; kki-kutii'kihtun as ki&-MAna'hneyan misi'k tdh as ki-tsipa'hkiyen,' ina'win uki/An. ha'w, mdtsi 'wi~n ina'niw, nAtut'hkiwet. MAMa'tsi~ta'wAk as wi'kitua2 payi'Atat, ha'w, ini'win as wjkimj'wdt ina'niw. waya-',palh, pitskjwdi'win. pi'Atat mni's kutd'2nas, ini'win as wj'kinit utawa'tuki'man; ini'win as kipi'AhtAket ani'nuh Mitii'MUhsAn. ini'win ananft'hkAsit. h&'w, kayis3-pyA'tin, naw~'naW sa~yeh misi'k ki-matsi'win as kiwnAtii'Ihkiwet. ha'w, ini'win s ki-mehkdwd'tsin MAMa'tsi~ta'wAn as wZ'kinit; ini'win mis'i'k kisj'h8An ki-wej'kima'tsin. nayd'nikutu'hkin 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 503 they would cut off for him a piece of that deer. In this way he gained by always sitting square in the pathway. Once upon a time two brothers went off to hunt. They killed some game, and then they went along carrying it and came to where this little old man was sitting. "You are doing well!" the old man called out to them. "Yes, we are doing pretty well by ourselves!" the brothers answered him. "Hm! Fine corpses!" said the little old man. But when they had passed there and were walking on, the younger brother began to scent danger. "Oh, nonsense! Don't be afraid!" said his brother to him; "We too have spirit-power; we shall dispose of him well enough. Meanwhile, get ready a louse and hold it." When they reached their dwelling, from there they came to stalk that little old man. As he waited impatiently for night to come, long beforehand he had prepared himself and put on his bearskin, as he lay there on his couch. Then those brothers came to that place. The older one it was who stole up to him. He, for his part, took on the form of a serpent. Then he went and set down that louse on the bear's breast, while the latter lay impatiently waiting for the night. Thereupon he began to scratch himself on his breast. And then he scratched until he made a hole in himself and died. So great was the power of these brothers. 112. THE SNAKE-MAN. (Nehtsiwihtuk) There dwelt a man; with his mother he dwelt. At the opposite side of the lodge the little old woman had her settee, and at the rear of the wigwam the older brother had his; for the man had an older brother. That man, the older brother, never went anywhere. It was the younger brother who hunted and got game for his mother. Indeed, he had a knack for killing deer and bears, that younger brother. Now, a time came when he told his mother, "Now then, I am going to look for a wife; you have too hard a time gathering wood and cooking," he said to his mother. The man set out to look for a wife. When he got to where some people were living, he took a wife. On the next day, he started for home. He came to a certain place where dwelt his familiar spirit; there he sacrificed that woman in the water. That was the way he did. Then, whenever he came back, after a little while he would set out again, seeking a wife. He would find a place where some people were living, and there he would marry a girl. Every now and 504 ~iO4 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII waydi'pahkin, iniwi'n-pih niw ki-pits-ke-'wdt. hd'w, payiAtul'awin inis w~'1cwa2, ini'win-pih ki-ndi'siwet. ntsi'kapa'himih ini'win as ts~'patsinA'nik umdi'2tkvn'man ukdinf7'piktu 'ahtiku,'MAn; mti'd'ts-linii'pilc ini'win as i't and'miah metikuh. hd"wt, mni's tdh mnu'"n ki-mu'atsin ani'nvuh mitd'muhs~n. hda". vns&'mihe'win Mitd'MUhSAn as iwana'tsin. h&'w, nik~ff's ay&'wik, misi'k- ini'win S mA'tSiAt, ndnii'tsin mitd'mu~hSAn. payi'Atat ani'nuh mAAn7Pd'ts-i9ta 'w/An. hfl'ta, ini'win kii"h inisi'k as nuha'hlcapit i'ni'niw.. nik~td~'s aya'wvik, 'ha'wV, ini'2 lkeh sa~yeh s kAta'w-kzvd'yAnj' ind'wvin ani'nuh Wj,'w'n; 'icas kiwd'htan?,wdsi'wAk k6'hne? misi'k, teh lciki'yah,' ind' win ani'nuh Uwe'WAn. h'I ta, mitd'muh wvay&.'pah mi'p wjhtam~wd',win 6'hnAn misi,'k teh ukim'An. 'hd'w. ini'? sa~yd2'h 8 k-A'tdW-k,~'wdt.' inld'win aninuh o'hnAn misi'k teh Ulci'An..'nahd'w. nitjd'h, witsi'wiin nuh&'h. ind'uwin inuh ke~ts-ind'niw h ", We'htsita kd' 2tin mj'hawatesi 'win inuh kiPs~hseh; und'siwi'n, tsiw-awdnd'ts9in inuh ind'niw. ma yatsi'Atua2 mi'p kiwd'tua2, ~A y kiseh d'hkwah pem6'hnewIAkin; sa~ye'h cthkuIAna.'hkah 4'kutsih UWk.'s2 h~a'h, nak&'2tawin inuh int' niwv. ini' win s keikitutawa'tin ani'nuh w'?WAn: 4nih niwet's ahpi'2ts kndtsi'ah; UMA's niwv miyd'w isyA'nun. imi's as tapa'p?lmin1'lkUah piAta'yen, ini'2 s A-na'MAn nim&'tehpihb. nt&,'hkeh ni"? niw as And'mihsih. ahpi'2ts kinaw-nip~'w-nei'tin s aw-ak6'awan; nina' w-inimpahpj'sim. wd'ki2 6'h a-m~'sah Ms's as a-ni pd'yah?' ind'win w~'w~n ind' niw. et"ta'? mitd'm'uh mndtsi'Win. payi'Atat, ii's stdpd'p~umind'kwah, kd'2tuin nd'MUAhin wekiWAM1e'hsI as a'?telk. ini-takilcd'puwit ini's ini'h MAtd'hpih, kd'9tin ndwd'win ahlkd'Ihkun as api,'nit. utd'hpine'win miitd'muh nipj'w as awA~-ku,'Apahah. kay~s-pi't~k, ak~nd'wvin ahlkd'hk-un, kd~ts-p6'tawet, MAnd'hnet. ind'niwv winah pehku~xhki'ahseh tahkd'skamin. 'hd'w.- niti'hseh, kitstZ'2ah!' ind'win Uti'hSehSAn.,nd'2, awdhs~hseh, uskR'-tip~'h-apiqv d'wiwin, pis-kitsite~i'tkit mni's pehkUAhki'ahsihsih, pa'pAkama'wvin ind"'niwv, 'ak-ahpina'tsin, nay~md'tsin. het'W, payi'Atat We/'WAn, iniwvi'n nAnah-pAka'ts- as pehk'nah inuh ind' niw inih Wj'WAs3. kay~'s-pehkc6'nah, wdwe~si'win.1 iskii'tiah ahpJ'kmnewmn ani'nuh awa'hs~n s wdwe~su'atsmn, kWlc'slaha'smin kayj~s-pd'ts-ivdwe~su,'atsin, ini'wvin-pih kdse~'niMA'tsin as we'nAiiihet'tsin, pisisu'atsin inuh ind'niwv. kay&~-pi~sisu'atsin, mii'wa niw p~nd'win ani'nuh awdhs~hs~n. 'ht.wanio'wAk, inn'h A-McL'9s-is-m~'tsihs it?' ind'nihtAmin mitli' 1 One would expect pahaiwin or pahniiwin; informant does not seem to use these words. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 505 then, of a morning, he would come back. When they got to his house, he would give a feast. Close to the wall of his lodge stood his tree, his serpent-tree; a large snake stayed there, at the roots of the tree. And here it was the serpent which used to eat those women. He dragged off very many women. Now, at one time he again set out to fetch a woman. When he reached those people, then again that man stayed there as son-in-law. Then at one time, "Itis timefor me to return home," he said to his wife; "Tell your father and mother." The next morning the woman told her father and mother, "It is time for him to go home," she said to her father and mother. "Very well, Daughter, go with our son-in-law," said the old man to his daughter. Truly handsome was that girl, she was beautiful, whom that man was taking away with him. When they set out in the morning to go home, they walked all day long; when the sun was at the height of the tree-tops, the man made a halt., Then he addressed, his wife, "Suppose you just go ahead; go straight on. When you get about as far from here as the eye can reach, you will come to my camp. My kettle is lying there, face down. You will fetch water and hang it up in the meantime; I shall be hunting. We must have something to eat where we camp for the night," said the man to his wife. The woman set out. When she had gone as far as the eye will reach, she did in fact see a hut standing there. When she came up close to that camp, she saw the kettle lying there. She took it up and went to draw water. When she had brought it, she hung up the kettle, and made a big fire, gathering the wood. As for the man, he kicked a knoll in the ground. "Come, my pet,1 come out!" he said to his pet. Lo, a young bear, - one that had made its first den,2 - came crawling out of that knoll, and the man knocked it down, bent it up into a bundle, and carried it off on his back. When he had come to where his wife was, in all due form he untied his pack. When he had untied it, he singed the bear. He threw it into the fire to singe it, and then scraped it. When he had well singed it, he washed it, skinned it, and cut it into small pieces. When he had cut it up, he put that entire young bear into the kettle. "Why, who, I wonder, will eat all of that meal!" thought the woman. 1 The word is that ordinarily used of a person's dog. 2 Literally, "fresh-den-sitter"; a year-old bear. 506 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XI] Iui~ta2, indVniw 1kayis-pimi'm-1kisisi'Ahkit, alkUAna'win ani'nuh u~ta'hkcehku~n. und'kan ini'win niw wa'htinah, m4'ts-u~nii'1an &'wiwin, ini'win mad wa niw as akUAhat'tsin ani'nuh awdi'hsAn. naha'w, kay&sakutfAhd'tsin, ini'win s a~na'tsin kute'?na8. 'hi'w, nih niwdi's kind'nin Ch-ayum awa'hseh; mdi'wa niw icinakitk'muaw kik~h nap6'p; md'wa niw kina-kit&'n,' ind'win IW'WAn. nim&' 2, mit4'muh k-aku'Ane~nAldi'nihtA'min, mitd'muh: 'awd'ni2 teh m&'tsiw is'n tsiW-AM-kita'kcct?' indi'nihtA'min mitd.'muh.,sa~yd'h ind'tapiwin inih un&'kan as mi'tsihsit mit4'muh. ta'2, hdnuw wi'nah lciseh d'hkwah kawin kdi'k~h um08tinan. haA ta2, ini'w~in kdih s tiitand'htsiket mita'muh. dA ta2, inu'h teh wi'nah indf'niw wd'wahte? a'yapi'win mi'tsihsi'nit WZ'IVAn. hdA, nik~t I's lkeh na'p s3a~ye'h mdi'waw kitlimi'win ani'n~uh awli'hAn inuh mitdi'muh. hdi'w, ini'2 teh misi'k un&'pupim! kd'?t8-rntinik- mitli'muh, hiA. nikr~tli's keh na'p sa~ye'h kitdi'min inih na'p~p. hdih taydi'h mitd,'muh kauwi'n ivwvskUI'A'pinan ais kAtdi'w,-misli'hsih hliAtaW uwayd'pah mcittsi'WAkin; kawin p8't-s utd'wats-mitsihsinii'w~awan. paylt'kWAt8 ani'win niku't as i'nit ut'hsehSAn. kWspin as ki-nt3'nahtsi'klit inuh mitli'muh, ini'win wehtsitA' niw s kaki'htsitahamuwdi'tin ut6'nih ani'nuh mnita'muhsbAn ini's as ki-pind'tsin. hd'w, kay~'s-kawdskine'nitsin, ini'win-pih 1ki-wMh-ahp&'kina'tsin ini's nipi'hih as kiw-ahsdmdi'tsin aninuh uti'hsehSAn. ini'win kiw-ihpli'nana.'tsin ani'nuh Mita'muhSAn inu~h inli'niw. hdi'w. ini'win teh na'p as pimd'tsihe'sit inuh mitlt'muh, as kitli'kdt. hdlw, ini'? teh mi-si'k as awlinli'tsin w~'kqwa2. sayli'h a'hkUAn&'hkah Ii'kutsih kU's62, ini'win misi'k as nak&'2tanit. 'nah&'w, niwli's ahpi'?ts miitsi'ah; nikJ'tew-ini'm-pahpe-'sim. wdi'ki? 5k a-m~'tsah?' ini',win We'WAn; 'piAta'yAn ini's ntiihkehki'Anih, inj'2 as ap~'t nitdi'?senim. iskit'tiah kinaw-ahp&'kinaw as aW-kisi'Apehki'SWAt. h&'w, ini's tlih nitdi'htanih ina'kah, ini'? as ts~patsih md'ts-as3kd'h. wvandi'klh teh inu,'2 a-po'tawe'yAn as aw-kisi'SUAt inuh nt&'2sentim,' indt'win w'?.jWAn. tlip&'pahtA'min wj'kiwAm as a'?tek. jAtla?, 5'y6'a? keh wvj'k~waw!' inli'nihtA'min mitli'muh. payi'Atat isku'Ahtemih, ini'win as ini'm-nakli'?tat s dyana'pit mnitli'muh. WeyAwVekehko'hseh sdi'kitsipahta'win. 1h&A, nuh&'hkAni'Ahkiw, t&'2 teh kAt as pi'htike'yAn? pi'htike'nun!' inlt'win WeyAwekehko'hseh uniihJ'hkAlni'AhkiMAn. hliniwdt'h keh ini'wvin as minu'Apuma'tsin ani'nuh mitli'muh8An. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 507 When the man had finished his cooking, be took his kettle from the fire. From the place there he took a bowl, - a large bowl it was, - and into it dished the whole bear. When he had served it, he set it down somewhere. "Well now, I might as well invite you to this bear here; you will eat it all, together with the broth; you will eat it all up," he said to his wife. Oh, the woman was frightened at that, "Who ever could make away with such an enormous mess?" thought the woman. Then she sat down before the dish; after all, she had had nothing to eat that day. So then the woman kept eating and eating. As for the man, he sat there, taking no part, while his wife was making her meal. Then finally at length the woman did after all eat that entire bear. But there was still her broth! She drank as hard as she could, and at last she managed to dispose of the broth. "There! I have finished my meal!" Dear me, that woman could not sit up, so gorged with food was she. On the next day they set out; they did not eat before starting. The fact is, that place was where one of his pets stayed. If the woman he was bringing left anything over, then he would simply force it into her mouth. When she was helpless from repletion, he would go and throw her into the water, for his pets to eat. That was the way that man did away with women. So therefore this woman had saved her life by making away with the entire meal. He took her now to his house. When the sun hung as high as the tree-tops, again he halted. "Now then, you might as well go on ahead; I want to hunt as I go along. We must have something to eat," he said to his wife; "When you get there, by the cooking-place of my wigwam lies my stone. You will throw it on the fire and heat it to a glow. And then, over by my side of the lodge, there stands a big pine-tree. The bark you will use to make the fire when you heat my stone," he told his wife. The woman set out. And indeed, when she had gone a ways, she came in sight of a wigwam. Then, "And so this is their house!" thought she. When she got to the entrance-way, she stopped and looked about. The little old woman came running out. "Why, Daughter-in-law, why don't you come in? Come in!" said the old woman to her daughter-in-law. The woman entered. Oh, but that man who was sitting there, very beautiful he found that woman! The woman took her seat; lo, she was splendid! '008 Publications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'lhah tayd'h, dtniwd~'k keh rdinani',wilbew 'Iitta'MUhsAn ~'h-ayvm, nehs~j'h!' ind~'win indi'niw ani'nuh Mitd'MUhSArn. 'yJ', p6'nimin kehs~'h!' iwd'hin inuh wie-YAW~kehk6'hseh. 'pfini'tah! 1kiki-wRt6'kawawv lina'h ap. sa~ye'h me~si'h ne~tuwj'/c~w mitd'muh8An6,' ind'win ani' nuk U/ki'An as aya'ne~nAtsin. 'h&'w, n-'ir, vinaw'htamun aw-isj'9?tayAnA. laye'hkinawa'ts8 leh kits-kis-nd'nikcen uiMA'S s ice's-pits-nipd' yak. hi'9 ni misi'k kdi'tawihpd'nanih. ini'h-pih niw tsiyd'wivdnehke'nun ini's as apj' yen tep&'hb. k#js-wdnehke'yAn, kahpi'h kisisi'Akhkit, ini'2 is aw-i'nim-pihtswd'pinAMAn ini'h mitsimj'hseh. kdtwmi'knnkpi'At misi'lk. inih nap6'p ini'? niwv s aw-inim-8ikuwa'pinaman. hd'wU1. mi'i9 awise,'?tayan.' rnitd'rnuh ta? wdnehke'wvin ini'8 s tsiw-a'p~t. kayjs-wJ'nehkcet, 'hJ'w, ini'? s kd'sihtawan,' iku'ahin; "'inu,'h teh aOse'n d'pit skit'tiah ahpd'kisin7" ta? kits-i'kuah. nu'? niw inuh d'pil; kAta'S iskii'tiah ahpei'Iisin. utah&'w, i'h-inuh tdh me?ti'lk tsp'kapah tsay~'patsih, aydlcaU'A\Misinun! me~ti'k ini'? niw as a'?tu'ahkilhneh; mi'? aw-aWa'yAn as aw-pind'hat inuhIwAnd'kdh. UinA's niw pd'hsahat, ini"?-pih A-ka?ts-wape'yen ~ a-pits-kjwd,'pahtawvan. ki'hki')tjh; /dspi'n atd'mih inuh wVAnaI'lah. mi'?" (a5 nipa'yAn,' ind'win in/i' niwv ~wj'nimun. hd'w, m~itd'MUuh infdtsVi 'wi; lcd"'Ai siWAs tse-'pats3i'nIinb md'tsaslc&'h. h6", Alc'tsinin inuh wVAna'kah. mitd'muli kay&s-td'pinaIh inih me'?tik, hiiw, ini'win s pd'hsahatsin ani'nuh wAndlka'hkcun. wtAnalca'hkun as pimj'nisihukut, ndskd'n niw paydnd'win mitd'muh. hd A, ini'win kelh na'p 'nd's/din! payd'kWAtS ini'sa? as tsiw-i'nit utd,'htanu 'MAn inuh ind'niw rl'scitpin.piIhtikce'win rnitd'nul&, p6'tawand'tsin ani'nu~h aOse 'ntAn. ' nahd'wv, nini'in,imi'? k-eh. na'p d'si?ta' yen as piin&'tsihe'si yen,' in/d'wvin in&,'niw; '/cis-pi'At, WAnitipd'Ihkah, ini'-pih misi'Ic as sd'kit6'Ihnet, kii'nien as aw-nAtoMd'tsin. hd'w, mi'p 'Wvik, ini'?-pih as s' lcitJ'hnet. hd'w,. pis-pi'htiket, "nimd'?, usd'mat 1c'n!" au',-iwd'h; "'nina-naw~'h-pa?sah&'w~kk kclta,'ciMAk niwd's8," kina'W-ikuah. U~sawjh-pa~sah&'tsin, niku't nisi'k niw a-pi'n/iw. kAn wi'nalh kd'2tin kinaw-usi'htUAlunan. kjs-kj',si1ha'tsin, "hd 'wI ni'wds; wd'ki2 tdh a-mi'tsik C~h-ayurn litd'kim, y6'm as isend'ksit?" kinaw-i'lcuah. 'wd'ki? nii'9 a-m~'sik? ini'h kdIh Mi'ts —Atdi'hjmin tsi-taki'k- nia'na/cak as nJ',wahkik i'nalcah, ini'? keh a-in~'tsik," kinaw-i'niiw. a-nj'puwi'pahtaw as aw-p6?p6'/hkuna'tsin ani'nuh kit&'kiinAn, iskfIi'tiah s aw-ahpd'kina'tsin. ini"? aw-isj'ta yen, nZ'niin,' in/twin in/i'niw ani'nnh w~'niinnn. Ihd'wi, ay6' winah ind'niw pehkuaalki'Ahseh inisi'kc talhkd'skainin. 'hd'w, nti'hseh, kitsZ'?tah!f' ind'win uti'hseIhsAn. niin&A?., ind'ts-awd'hseIh pits-k-its~td'tsikc3'win ini's pelbknahlki'Ah 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 509 "Oh, it is a bitter shame, the way my brother destroys women!" said the man to her. "Gracious, stop talking about your brother!" said the old woman. "Be still! You are his accomplice! Very many women has he killed by now," he said to his mother, upbraiding her. "Now then, Sister-in-law, I will tell you what to do. Of course he invited you to a meal when you camped on the way here. He will try to do the same to you again. You had better dig a hole right now close to where you sit. When you have dug, then, when he has done cooking, you will keep throwing the meat in there. He will ask you to eat again, when he comes. The broth, too, you will keep pouring in there. That is the way you will do." So the woman dug a hole there where she sat. When she had done digging, "There, now you are done," he said to her; "'Throw that stone that is lying there into the fire,' no doubt he said to you. There it is; throw it into the fire. Well now, as to that tree that stands just outside the lodge, be on your guard! There is a stick leaning against it; this you will use to knock off the bark. The instant you have touched the tree with the stick you will run as fast as you can back into the house. Run hard; if that piece of bark catches you, you will die," said the man to his sisterin-law. The woman went; there, indeed, stood a tall pine-tree. A piece of bark hung there. The woman reached for the stick of wood; with it she barely touched that piece of bark. And then, off ran the woman with all her might. As that piece of bark pursued her, she barely kept ahead of it. There! Just barely! Right here, in fact, was that man's familiar animal, a great serpent. The woman came into the lodge and built up the fire under the stone. "Now then, Sister-in-law, now you have at any rate managed to come out alive," said the man to her; "When he comes, at night he will step out of the house again and call for snow. Then, in the morning, he will go out of the house. When he comes in again, 'Dear me, there is a fearful snow!' he will say; 'I might as well go split off some snowshoes for you,' he will say to you. When he returns from splitting them, he will bring only one. He will not really be making them for you. When he has got it ready, 'Well now, we might as well provide; what is this snowshoe of yours to eat, looking as it does?' he will ask you. 'Why, what won't it eat? Of course, that big strawberry that is down there in the south, that is what it will eat,' you will say to him. He will jump up and break into splinters that snowshoe of yours, and throw it into the fire. That is the way you will do, Sister-in-law," said that man to his sister-in-law. But now, as for that man, again he kicked a hillock in the earth. "Come, my pet, come out of there!" he said to his pet. Lo, a big bear came crawling out of that hillock. He struck it 01,110 510Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII seh-sih. pdipakamii'tsin, 1kay&9-vs~wand'hket irnd'niw, wdt'patahuk6'win as kWwdt. pitS-pi'Atat wj'k~wa2, pi'htiket ind'niw, nimdiA?, we 'htsita kdt'2tin siw Ata'himin inii'pehkis6'win inuk a~se'n. nahiih-. 'Th-ayuime'tSiwA'k kaIh kay~s-kehk#jn5'ham5,uO'tsin aw-ise'2Anit!' nd 'win ani'nuh we'matAn. akuAWd'pinewin ani'nuh a~se'niAn ind'niw. hd'w, mil-pi'htikat&'win inih Wj'WAs as pehk6'nah; skii'tial& pmi'm-ahpd'kinewin ani' - nuh awd'hSAn; w& 'we?,su'atsin, kiikd'slcala'tsin, pinih&a'tin, ini'winpih wayj'nanih&'tsin. md'waw kaye-s-pi~sisu'atsin,. ini'win-pih nip~'w nayd'tilk ind'niw as ak6't~k; m&'waw ini'win s pona'tsin ani'nuh awvd'1&n. hdiAta2, pdpp6'tawan&'tsin utcd'ldehkun, hd'w, nilk~td's sa~yelh pmi'm-kisisi'ahk~win ind'niw. mdts-und'Ikan ~pmnim-tdhpina'min; kdi'2tin si m&'waw alcvAhd'win ini's utnd'kanih, Ikikj'h nap6'p ini'win as sj'Ikinah. 9niMjdA2, wanito'wAk Ikdh a-kitd'kdt?' ind'nihtArnin mitd'muh. ini's as tsi-kjs-w~d'nehket inuth mitd'mtuh, ini'win apits as pakti'tinah inih un&'kan. '1h&'w, ni'wds /cin&'nin! kina-kit&'n j'k-y~m nt~nii'kan; 1kik~h napi'p md'wa niw lcina-Icitd'n,' inda win ani'nuh w~'wan. hdAta?, mitd'muh ini'win nd'tapi'win inih und'kan, k't-iti& -sit. &Ata~?, inith ind'niw wd'wahte2 ind'piwin. kawin p6'ts updmd'hilounan mnis as mi'tsihsit. mitd'mvh wi'nah nik6'fttnuh kayis-patskci'htahkin inih nilc6'tunu.h as 1kjskisicd,'tdk mitsim#j'hseh, ini'win as ki-pihtswd'pinah ini's s kRs-wei'nehket. &A, wd'hsita, kii'2tin mitei'muh ydpitsW'tawin as pi-htswd'pinah inih m~tsim~'hseh, 6w&'nehlcanih ini's as p~'hnahah. ta?, lkawi'n itni'Alcnwan ani'nuh undpi'AMAn. m&'waw kayj's-kitiih inih mjtsim~'hseh, h&'w, ini'win teh sa~ye'h inih na'p~p mitli'muh as mind'k; ini'win niwv uwa' nehkanih as s81kwd'pina1h inih unii'pupim. ini'win keh md'waw as kit&'kat. h&'w, mitd'mu~h wehtsita'w iniwin tdpd'nih nikuh tsi-mi'tsihsit. pahpiskahii'win sa~yeh wdnitipd'hkah, ini'win-pih say&'kit6'hnet tnuh ind'niw. kii'niAn kayt~s-m~'mis&'hkuna'tsin, ispd'miah pdkine'win. 'hd'w, Mh-y6'2 ayi'nikfihkWAtd'skAt kAt k6'n as a-pd'pehtsih tipdh d'hkuah!' Zwd'hin ind'niw; 'tsk wJ'pah, ini'2-pih tdh a-pii'nipi'2 -nah!' iwd'hin. ayaih-pi'htiket ind'niw, nima'2, ini'win-pih wayd'pipi'2nah as kdi'2ts-pd'?nah. sa~yeh wayd'pah, ini'win-pih a'nuApi'2nal&. k&'w, mi'p un~'win inuh ind'niw; sdlcit6'hnet, nimd"?, ini'win niw as pu'AnaIh inih utiisku'Ahtemdwdw as aOsitahki'skutek. hd 'w mli'nawats pahpii'winAMin inih ukd,'pehtah5'nuwaw, iniwi'n-pih kayi"hpahkwd'pinah. hdi'2, manind'lcin rn~'pihte'win ini's aku'Atsih. yah,pi'htiket, kUAY, ts&'inat k6'n! 'h&'w, ni'wds kitii'kiMAk nna-wj'h-pa~sahii'WAk; wd'ki2 aw-awd'y~n s a-manii'hne yen?' ind'win we'wAn ind'niw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 511 down, and, when he had done it into a bundle, he shouldered the load and went home. When he arrived at the lodge and entered, why, truly, red as a strawberry that stone was glowing. The man got into a frightful rage! "This fellow here, it's certain, was the one who instructed her!" he said of his brother. He yanked the stone from the fire. He went and brought in his pack and undid it; he threw the bear on the fire; he seared it, scraped it, cleaned it, and then skinned it and cut it up. When he had carved it into small pieces, he fetched water and hung it over the fire; then he put in all of the bear to boil. He kept feeding the fire under his kettle and then, at last, got done with his cooking. He went and took up a large bowl; truly he dished all of it into that bowl; the broth, too, he poured in there. "Dear me, who, I wonder, will eat all that!" thought the woman. Where she had dug the hole, right there she set down that bowl. "Well, I might as well ask you to eat! You will eat all that is in this my bowl; broth and all, you will eat it empty," he said to his wife. So then the woman sat down before that bowl. She ate vigorously; the man merely sat there. He did not pay any attention to her as she ate. But she, after taking always one bite of each piece of meat that was cut, would then throw it into the hole she had dug. Truly, the woman worked fast, throwing the meat into the hole she had dug! And that husband of hers did not see her. Then she drank the broth; and into the hole she spilled her broth. So then she made away with everything. Truly, she must have eaten a plenty. When night came, that man stepped out of the lodge. He made some snowballs and threw them into the air. "Now then, let snow fall in flakes as big as this, all night!" said he; "Just before daylight let it stop snowing!" he said. When he had again entered the lodge, a heavy snow began to fall. Towards morning the snowfall ceased. Early that man arose; as he stepped out, lo, he could not move that door, so weighted down was it. He shook slightly the door-flap of their house and then, with a jerk, threw it open. Why, for a great ways the ground was bare out there! He went in again, and there was a vast amount of snow! "Well, I might as well go split you some snowshoes; you must have something to use when you gather firewood," he said to his wife. !_`) 1 2 ~) 12 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl l Vol. xi] ta'?, kawi'n rni'ni p6'ts uki-iW*hpema'nan ani'nuh Wj'WAn; lkuta'2 -nas ni n&'p Ana'p imi'win as ki-ni'piit inuh indi'niiw. hiAta2, mdtsi'win indi'niw itnina'peh kay&sr~dk anw' naw keh s8a~yeh pi'win; k-d'2ti'n niku'n ni nisi'k pindt'win ani'nuh at'kimnAn m6'hlcuna'tsin. kay~s-m~hkcuna'tsin, hJ,'wv iniwi'n-pih pitsk~hldi'pinit as wdpahteni'kut tah ani'nuh uld'kiman mitdi'muh. 'hdi'wl ni-wd's, uldk'9 teh a,-mj'ts3ik i~'h-ayimn lit&'kim, y6'mn as h&Ata2. 'w4kiO nd'92s a-m~'tsik? ini'h keh mkn'ts-affi'hmin uma'nakah as n&'uwahlcik i'nakah tsi-taki'lcAta'hMin?, ini'9 Idih a-'rn'tsik. qv4ki? na'?s a-m~'sikc?' ind'win undpi'AxM~n mitd'muh. n~puw~pahtawin inei'niw. p62p5'hkipjutn&'tsin ani'nuh d'kiMAII W~h-ay~ume'tsiwVAk kd'h teh kay'~'s-k-aki'hkinia'fqin a-ivsj,'2tanit a ya 'nawihe'hkiwdit!' ind'win ani'nuh IW'MAtAn. nanji'w utditd'nih pimi'm-s&'kt6'hnewin as na,'tik inih AtN'h'Imin ahkj.,'w as kVskikeh tsi-ta'kilc. p&'hpisiw. ini-n~'pihtewin tsiqv-i'nimha'w, ay6 wi'nah irdt'ni ini'win-pih mis8i'lc lk'hlkin6'ham~wii'tsin ani'nuh wvj'nimun: 'hM'w, nini'm. pii'hkinah T'h-inih 4'9tik slcu'ahtemih!' ini'win ka'k~h as pitdlcuhik&'tkil. paya'hkinah miftd'muh, nimdA2, nid"ts-kin'f2'pilc ini'win as wctd'wiyAkcapuhsih. h&a,' mitd'muh lkkuAne2 --n Alk'nilhtArnin. 'nahud'u' n~'nim, i'h-inih minq'tih d'2tik m~'wahkcapi't*h ini'? as a-pj'hnahat. inuh ini's payi'hsit kinaw-hkjIcskikca'h~vv,' irni'win nd,'niwy i~' nirnun. rnitdi'mu~h miniiti'h inikh m~wahkapitii'win, utd'pehkAn as kehp~'tiket. ini'win-pih misi'k ineind'peh wdtii'hpinah; kay&~-saki'kiyawdnii'tsin ani'nuh lkinii'pikun mitd'muh, pimi'm-sa-'kesitd'tsime'win as kdhce'skaha'tin ani'nuh kinii'pikun. h&'w, ini'win-pih tdh ini's miniiti'hsih payjhnaha'tsin ani'nuh kinii'pilcun. wehtsita k-d'2tin ndnisd'nahkamik d'uiwin inukh md'ts-kinit"pilk; ani'9 teh utd'ktanuman inuh mnd' niw. 'hd'w, nini'm, sa~ye'h kina-m&'tiA2! ki'hlki~td'h! nd'sap ni'uw kitd'si~ta?; kipd'panatsihi'Ikunaw; kWspin Atd'mi nah, ni'2 niw as ne~ni'nah; mnAts?'-Wi yAk d'wviu. sa~ye'h saka'nah tst-piAtct'W ii's a,'siAt ds-nd'tik inih Atd'hMmin. k&s-td'pinah inih Atd'hUmin, ms~wd' niwV A-mehki'wAhkWAt; ni '2 sa~ye'h as a-k&~-aw~h-td'pinah,' ind'wvin ind'niivuwj'nimun. hd'w, iniwi'n-pih mayatsyA'tua? s usi'mituaa. hvy, ni"md'?, td'ni2 as usi'mitua2 ind'ni wZ'nimun, hW~Y, nik~td's keh niw dInd'pitua2 u~ma'fnakah as nd'wahkik i'nakah, hW. wehtsita'wv ini'wvin as mehki'ivahkuahi. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 513 Now, for another thing, that man did not at all sleep with his wife; off to one side somewhere he would sleep. He took his ax and set out. In a little while he came back; and indeed, he brought only one snowshoe to whittle. When he had whittled it, he turned where he sat and showed the woman her snowshoe. "Well, we might as well provide; what is this snowshoe of yours to eat, looking as it does?" So now, "Why, what won't it eat? Of course, the big strawberry that is down there in the south, that is what it will eat. What do you suppose it will eat?" said the woman to her husband. Up jumped the man, broke the snowshoe to pieces, and threw it into the fire. "Of course it's this fellow advised her what to do, this fellow who can't get a wife for himself!" he said of his brother. The words were scarcely out of his mouth, and he was off and out of the house to fetch that strawberry that must be at the very edge of the earth. Clear of snow always was the ground as that man passed along on the run. But that other man then again instructed his sister-in-law, "Now, Sister-in-law, open that thing by the door there!" In that place something lay covered. When the woman uncovered it, lo, a huge snake lay coiled there. The woman was frightened in her mind. "Now, Sister-in-law, that sack lying there do you tie ready to make a bundle; into it you will put the snake. That creature lying in there you will chop into pieces," said the man to his sister-in-law. The woman tied the sack ready to make a bundle and tied up her pack-strap. Then she took an ax; she seized the serpent by its neck and, dragging it out, kept chopping it into lengths. Then she thrust it into the sack. Truly, a terrible sight was that huge serpent; and it was that man's familiar animal. "Now, Sister-in-law, we must go! Run fast! We shall just do it to be doing, for we are as good as lost; if he overtakes us, he will kill us at once; his evil power is great. By this time he must almost have reached the place to which he has gone for that strawberry. When he has laid hands on that strawberry, the sky will be red all over; that will be when he has laid hands on it out there," the man told his sister-in-law. Then they started out in flight. But, lo, flee as they would, the man and his sister-in-law, suddenly as they looked toward the south there, truly, the sky was red. 33 514 514Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hWy, pa'hpenis~uWA'k, nZ'nim! kikti'ninernipah ini'h; ini'2 sa?ye'h.3 1cs-tapinah,' ind'win wZ'nimun. mitd'mvh ini'nakah dina'pit, ke'?itin ya'hpi'ts mehki~'wahkWA'tin. 'Icihli~tah, ki'hlki~tah, Aihki~tah! kind'pi2 lcespin Ata'minah!' inwe w~nimun. hU~y, ta'2, nilk~td's keh niw kAni'win niw wd'h-pits-uhtsi'mit:- 'he~y, ppcip'hikcu'n! ta'2-nakah tsV& nap PAS 1i'hpahU'ydik? p6'ts lkeh ni'wv lcika'tew-pa'pakamine'MUAwV!' iwa'hin indi'niw. 'hai', nZ'nim, kitdnine'mipah ini'h; kind'pi?!' ind/win w~f'nimun; 'M'lw, 8a~ye'h saka'nah Ikpis-td/pakand/mikunaw; ini'h-pih nilk6'tunu~h as ki'skisikc&'8it k-itiiti'mih ahpai'kisin inuh nay6'MAt Ikinft'pik,' ind/ win wZ' nimun. hiA, saye'h ume'win-pi'h niw pis-tani'tah: 'hVy, pi'hilku'n! ta'2 -nakah Isi' nap pas dhpa4Z'ydk?' pits-ilc'lin. mitd'muh nilk6'tunuh as Ici'slisilca'sinit ani'nuh ukdinfl'piku'man atiiti'mih ini'win d'hpAkin&'tsin. M&A2, ay6' winah mnd/ni as mdk~-pime~'pahtuk, kAni'win keh niw utdhtanu'man pe-nd'kun ini'win s tas~h-w~awjjke~ta'nit, utd/htanu'man md/ts-kinii'pilcun. ka y~s-ndwd/tsin, T'ih yei"h, nitd/htanum!' iwei'hin ind/niw. pmV'm-d/pehtutsind/win utd/htanu'mAn, kjwd/pahtuanii'tsin. Md'ta2, di-alc' winah, 'liihl, hi'hciwtah, nj'nim! kAn lcAteW-ise'kinun; kind/pi'?!' ind/win we nimun. hd/ta2, inuh w~i'nah ind/niw payiAtd/wipd'htuk w~'k~nwa2, ini'win as awMh-p~hn~aha'tgin umd'hkahlcuh. luiw, ini'win-pih misi'k pitswd/p~t. hedita2, iniwi'n kch a4nanii'hkasit as kiw-awd/tsipii'htuana'tsin ani'nuh uknan~'piku'man.~ hd /w, Zh-alk6' winah U8Z'MUWAk ini'win sa~yeh s tdpci'pahtii'hkua2 ma'ts-asipd'hkihlciw. mi&yi' sikas ini'win cinehlci'8kAt inuh ind/'niw. niku'n ni ni nisile ind/piwin 8a~ye'h inuh kinii'piklv. piAtaWipa'htulc Misi'lc inuh ind/niw, 'hJ'y, nalcd'2taku,'n! kilcd/tiwpa pa kamine'MUAW! ta'2-nakah t8i' nap pas dhpah9'ydkl?' pit8-ik5'kin. '~Ah, ini'2 sa~ye'h niku't nisi'k ind/piw,' iwd/luin mitd/mul&. 'hd/, apahpeni'8iwvAl lceh d'yen! lci'hki~tah!' iwe'hin in4'niw. sa~ye'h pits8-Ata'milcutua2, iniwi'n Uti'h Misi'lk dhpakind'tsin mitd/muh ani'nuh kinWipilcun. nimcdA2, md"ts-kinii'pik kAni'win keh niwv ii's pgnd/kun wdiwd'ke~tAt. 'hUh yCIh, nitd/lhtanu'm!' iwd/hin ind/niw, tdpip~nii'tsin, kiwd/pahtUAna'tsin. h&'w, mi"i? sa? ye'h md/waw. ta'?, kUspi'n teh Atd2'milcutu'a2 Misi'k, ta'?, mi"i? tdh sa?yeh s kAtd/w-pAkcd/milcu'tua2. y6'win-pih sa?yeh, umd/wvin-pih sa~?yeh ini'h dsipd/hlcihkiw miyei'w' dnawi'mitua2. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 515 "That is very bad, Sister-in-law! This is what I told you; now he has got it," he said to his sister-in-law. When the woman looked thither, indeed entirely red was the sky. "Run, run, run! If he catches us, we die!" he told his sister-in-law. Then, at one time, the sound of a voice came, "Hey, wait for me! Whither in all the world can you run to escape me? Surely I shall strike you down!" said the man. "There, Sister-in-law, didn't I tell you this? We are as good as dead!" he said to his sister-in-law; "Now soon he will come almost within striking distance of us; then do you throw down behind you one cut-off piece of that serpent you are carrying on your back," he told his sister-in-law. Now he came noising it right there close behind, "Hey, wait for me! Whither in all the world can you run to escape me?" he said to them as he approached. One length of that serpent as it was cut the woman then threw behind her. Lo and behold, as that man was running on, suddenly, on the clear snow there lay writhing his pet animal, the great serpent. When he saw it, "Goodness me! My pet!" said theman. He stopped and took up his pet by the middle, and ran back home with it. But these others, "Come, run, Sister-in-law! It can't come right; we shall die!" he said to his sister-in-law. But that man, when he had run all the way to his lodge, put the creature into his chest. Then he started running again. That was the way he did; he kept running off with his serpent. But those fugitives now came in sight of a large rocky cliff. Straight for it the man headed. By this time they had only a little left of their serpent. Finally but one piece of that serpent was left. The man came running up again, "Hey, stop! I shall strike you down! Whither on earth can you run to escape me?" he said to them as he came nearer and nearer. "There is only one piece of it left," said the woman. "Alas, the thing you say! Run!" said the man. He was almost upon them; then again the woman threw back that serpent's flesh. Lo, suddenly there on the clear snow a big serpent lay writhing. "Goodness me! My pet!" said the man, seized it, and ran home with it. But this was the last of it. If he caught up to them again, he would strike them down. "Come, run, Sister-in-law!" Right there, this far, was that rock for which they were running. 33* ,5-16 ful6 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hUA y, nuhna'2, pa'hkinah! Wj'yAk is'kiiv nipd~'minesihu,'kunaw!' iwa'Ibin ind'niw. ka'2tin 8a~ye'h misi'lk Pit-tapi'tamin as Ata'miku'tua?: 'hWy, naka'2takun, nakd'2takvn, naka'2takvn! ktd'wats-papaka'mine'MUAW! p6'n pd'hkinamuwvi'n! ne/w'An nim&'hkami'kld' ~iwd'hin inuh ini' niw. hUA Y, us8&'m 8a~ye'h me?,si'h ne~tuwi'k~w mitdi'mvhs8An. pa'hkina'h, pd'hlcina'h, p&'hkina'h, nuhnd'2, pd'hlkina'h!' iwd'hin inulh ind'niw.sa~yeh payiAta'wipa'htukcua2, kAni'win kdib niw pay&'hkiskAk slcu,'ahtem, pi'htikepakhtukua?. kay~s-1kipa'hkuskcAk inih sku'ahtem, sa~ye'h 'tI'!' iniwd'hnenin ind'niw uta'kas,. k-Atd'w-pi'kwahah inih sku'Ahtem. ma' ', saka'nah pi'kuaha'min. inuh wi'nah ke~ts-ind'niw uti'hsesAn tctwAnin; ni'8iWAnin uti'hSehSAn. 'nahFI'w, pahkina'mukun ini'h un&'kan,' iw&'hin ke,)ts-ind'niw. pimi'm-pahklina'mukin inih una'kan; nima. 2, and'mhs~'h8Ak, ni's s8iwAs sehkj'hsinu'kin; yahpi' ts wawa'pislkenulkin anMAm'SAk..naha'w, pahpa'wi~taku'n!' ina'win inuh ke~t8-ind'niwv vti'hseh8AI.hat'w, pahpa'wi~tAtua? aki'kuh Anamo'h5AlC, mamd'h-Ana'muk a'wi~wA'kin. "naha'wv, awM~-sadsakv,'AMehkun ~h-ayumn lc'tawI-pi 'luahah y6'mi k,,itd-slcu'Ahtemi 'naw, ind'win ani'ninuh uti 'Ises~n. paya'hlcilteni'hkcua2 s/ku,' AItem, pa'pilk k-Ataw-pit8-pihtike win inuh ind'niw; wa'htsita k4'2tin uk6'htakanih ini'win8 8 akipu'atua2 aki'k'uh And'mulk, aIhpa'linatua2 misi ahki'hih. misj'wd niw kitami'WAkin aki'kvh And'mulc. kay~,s-ma'waw-kitamu'atua2, 'ha'w, imi's ahkj'w as kj's3kikeh ini's awi~'h-pa~c~nehkun!' ind'win uti'Ibsehs~n kats-ina' niwv. ini'win s awih-pakina'tua?. a'hkihneh y6'mi ahk~w nipi'hih kay~spak-ind'tua, pis-lcwa'WAlkin. pi'Atua2 aki'kvuh Ana'mvk, pihtike'WAkin w~'kwa2. ini'2 kdh s 1kis-ne'?nih ind'ni. ini'2 tah niw mitsi' niw as wawi7'kitua2. inv,'h tdh ind'niw wj'nimun ini'win-pih wayj'kiMA'tsin; mitsi' ni tak niw kana'wihe'win y6'hpih. ini2 ma'waw.1 113. CLAD-IN-A-GA RB-OF-RACCOON-SKIN. (nektsi'wihtulk) nakii'w, ind'niw kdah wdw.Z'kiwin; uhsj'Meh8An wj'Ikimewin; ki2 -sj'AsAn a'WiWAnin. s wdwj' kit ind'niw, apa'hs8usugn ki-ne~ne'win inuh inii'niw; misi'k teh awd'hsAn ki-ne~ne'win; mis9i'k teh a'hsipAnAn kine~ne'win inulh ind'niw, ha'w, ki~sj'hseh mami'tsihsit, apd'Asusun awd'hsAn a'I&5ipA'flAf as mu'Atua2. nik~td's ayd'wik, sa2 yeA ma'tskiSZ'Aseh a'wi win; ta'?, uhs~mehs~n a'wiwAn; tipaI' niw is~nd'kusiwAkin, uhs~'mehs~n as a'w'&nit. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 517 "Ho, Father, open the door! Some kind of creature is pursuing us!" said the man. Truly now he was within hearing, as he came gaining on them, and cried, "Hey, stop, stop, stop! Just let me strike you down! Don't open the door to him; he is stealing my spouse' from me!" said that man. "Oh, too many women has he slain already! Open the door, open the door, my father! Open the door!" said the man. When they had run all the way, suddenly the door flew open, and in they ran. When the door had gone shut, at once, "Crash!" sounded that man's ax, as he tried to splinter the door. He almost burst it! But that old man had some dogs: two dogs he had. "Come, tilt up that bowl," said the old man. They went and tilted the bowl; lo, two tiny little dogs lay there; entirely white were the little dogs. "Come, shake yourselves!" said the old man to his dogs. When those little puppies shook themselves, they turned into large dogs. "Now be off and chew up this creature that is trying to smash our door," the old man told his dogs. When they opened the door, at once that man tried to come in; truly then at his throat those dogs seized him with their teeth and threw him to the ground. Those dogs devoured him, every bit. When they had eaten all of him, "Now go and throw him down at the very edge of the earth!" said the old man to his dogs. Then they went off to throw him down. At the end of this earth, they threw him into the water, and came back home. When they came back, they entered the dwelling. So now the man was killed. And they dwell there still. That man then married his sister-in-law; to this very day he has her for his wife. That is all. 113. CLAD-IN-A-GARB-OF-RACCOON-SKIN. (Nehtsiwihtuk) A man dwelt somewhere; he lived with his younger sister; she was a young girl. Where the man dwelt, he used to kill deer; and he used to kill bears; and raccoons did that man use to kill, and the girl had thus plenty to eat, as they lived on deer, bear, and raccoon. Then, in time, she grew to be a big girl; she was younger than he, but they looked exactly alike. 1 An archaic word, used by such monsters. 518 ~18Pitblications. American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 1&oiw, ini'win ana'tsin nilk6'td8s, 'ap&'hpeni'8iWAkc, nehsj'2, ked'tawiseki~yah. WiyAlC is'kiw kilc&'tew-pi'?talc~naw; kika'tew-pit8-na'nik; MAtse'2-AWd'tuk &'wiw; kAn u.wi'As~kesinan kdi'taw-pi"'tunah,' ind'Win Ukhsemeh~n ina'ni&w. kilAta2, mti'muh iniwi'n keh as 8d'kisit. Cnakd'w, 1&-y6'm teh kAts lkita'8i~ta2: d&-y6'm nina'h a'si&M'yen, y6'? kina'h ap pAs asina'lkuahlkin kip6'2sehkalka'nan; nawena,'28 iAn lkinaw-kehk~nd'kuni'nawan,' inii'wn uhs~meh~sn ind'niw. 4nahib'w!' Zwdi'hin ki28j'hseh. ini'win-pih Uti'1bsAn wa'sihtuwa'tsin ul~is'rehsun; rnisi'k teA up~'AseA/ca/an misi'lc utu'kum misi'lk Utsj'patakan Misi'lk u~ma'2tikwAn wj' p~n us8i'htuwe'win u1hsj'mehs~n. ho'w, lkayjs-lc'8ihtulk inuk inui'niw, ini'win-pih p6'2se/&lah inuh kci~s-'I&seI ani'nuh ut2ibh8Afl u~pj'hsehlka'kan Uts~patakan umui'2tikWAn. nima'2, k-ayj8-p52sd'hIcal, tipui'h ni'w isena'lkusi'WAlcin! kawi'n ulka'hklinalkUAtesi'nan inuh kc2eiWheh; tipdi'h niw ind'ni WA/k a'wiwA/csn, as ni'puwitua2. as /ci'/citituaP mi'n niw, tipei'/ niw i80'nisiWA/cin ani'nuh uhs~mehs~n. nalhi'w, ini'2-pih& tsi-MrnatsyA'tua? as pa1hp~'situa?, kcehcne3'haM5Wui'tsin vhsj'mehs8An aw-isj'2tanit, pahipZ'sinit. ta'?., mitd'mulh ini'Win s nehj'2tAt, pA/bpe'8it. khiw, ni/c~td's ini'win 8a2 yeh as /keh/kg'nawatsin inuh, -wutd'IhSipA'nakcumit in&'win inuh ind'niw maya'watse/s'&MAts'&n rnitu'mu/hsAn. Mu'ts-kin5'htem u'wiwin wZ'/c inuh& watc$'/bipA'na/cumit. yu/hpi'ts M5's8kinanu'win mitui'mu/hsAn ini/& wve'/. /cute'?nas as keh/cWnawatsin mitd'muh8sAn /kisW'An as V'nit, miyu' niw /ciw-isi'win as /ci-nanu'tsin ani'nuh kciWhz~sn. hd&'nuw as /ciw-sZ'hkianj'/cut, wu/htsitA' niw /ci-wZ'-tu'pine'win, as /ciw-awiind'tsin, wj'/ci/ as iciw~'h-aOnatsin. hti'nv, ta, nayd'ni/cutu'hk/in a/ci'kvh wdnitsyA'neh8itua2 ani'nu/h /cisWhsn /ciw-tapand'WA/cin; /ci-me/cnd'wA/cin ani'nuh ina'niWAn; /ci-lAtu'Iw-min-ni'w-ne~neWA'kin; ya'hpits iciw-nani'naw~hi/u'/cin ani'nuh inds'niWAn, hI&'nuuw s kciw-mnu'medh6'h/cawatua?, tsiw-ahpi'ts-tataI'hkesit inuh wutu'hsipA'nakcu'mnit. hcow, iniwi'n teh as /cjs.-/eh/c'na/h inuh in4'niw /cu'taw-isW'tAt, ini's as aw~h-/ci'si/cihd~'tin ani'nuh u/c6'?sima'wan. sa~ye'h teh as /cAtuiW-pi'?ta/cutua? ani'nuh ind'niwAn, 'naha'w, nehsZ' 2, wu'pah kcAtd'-piwV inuh ind'niw /cAtd'-pits-n&'neh,' in4'win uhsj Imeh8An; 'ayu/cu'AMiSi'nun,' ind'win uhs~'reh&sn. 'nahdi'w, ini'h, niw~ aw-isj' yen, nAne'9. ninaWv-ise'tArn.' iwd'hin /ci~sj'hsch. way&'pa/& /cd'?tin pi'win. kcay~8-mutsyA't'ua2 as pahpi'situa2, ini'win-pih payi'At inu/h wiitd'hsipAna/cu'mit, - ini'? uwiVhswAn ay&'wi/c inuh ind'niw. hAi'w, pits-pi'Atuit inih wj'/ciwAm, /cawi'n undwd'nan /ci?8j'hAAn. ini'win niw as a'yapit pi'Ati/c, as pdpih't8in as pahpZ'sinit. inuh /cis9'hseh nayiiwah/ci'/cin, iniwin-pih /ci-pi'At as pahp~'sit. pitS-pi'Atdt mnis wE'/c5wa?, niMdA 2, inu'niw siwas papiA'ni/cundi'hamin misi a/cu'Atsih; mamd'h-us6'tAn a wiwin as pm6'/cune'hah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 519 Then once he said to her, "Danger is at hand, Sister, for us. A certain kind of person will come to us; he intends to come and get you; an evil spirit he is; there is no good in him who will come to us," said the man to his sister. Then, of course, the woman was frightened. "So then, let us do this: just as I am dressed, even so let your garments appear; perhaps he will not know us apart," said the man to his sister. "Very well!" said the girl. Then he made leggings for his sister; and also a jacket, a blanketrobe, a feathered head-dress, and a bow and arrows he made for his sister. When the man had finished them, then the girl put on her leggings, her jacket, and her head-feathers, and took her bow. Lo and behold, when she had put them on, exactly alike was their appearance! Unrecognizable was that girl; two men exactly alike were they, as they stood there. And in their speech as well, they spoke exactly alike, he and his sister. Then they went off and hunted, he teaching his sister how to hunt. So then the woman became an expert huntress. Then came the time when that person knew of her, - Clad-ina-Garb-of-Raccoon-Skin that man was called, who collected women. A great long-lodge was Clad-in-a-Garb-of-Raccoon-Skin's house. He had enough women to fill entirely that house of his. When he learned of a woman somewhere, or of a girl, he would go straight to that place and fetch her. Even though she hated him, he would be sure to go and seize her and take her away with him, putting her into his house. It mattered not that sometimes the parents of that girl loved her and were loth to give her up; they would fight that man; they would even try to kill him; that man would completely subdue them, even though they attacked him in a body, so powerful was this Clad-in-a-Garb-of-Raccoon-Skin. And so now that man had formed his plan, off yonder where he brought up his sister. Then, when that person was about to come to them, "Now, Sister, tomorrow that man will come who plans to fetch you from here," he told his sister; "Be on your guard," he told his sister. "Very well, exactly as you tell me, I shall do," said the girl. On the next day he did really come. When they had gone off hunting, came Clad-in-a-Garb-of-Raccoon-Skin, - that was that man's name. So now, when he came and arrived at that wigwam, he did not see any girl. He took his seat right there in the lodge and waited for her while she was hunting. At noon was when that girl used to- return from the hunt. When she came and entered their lodge, why, a man had left tracks outside the house; big were the footprints of his trail. 520 520 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ina'nilbtAmin ki~s~'Ihsekh. piAta't wi~'kwa2, p5'na~sit, - apd'khsusun nayomd'win' kis.Whseh tsi-k&~-pahp~'sit, - pi'htilcet w~kNwa?, M&A 2, ind'niw siwas apj'win mni's3 utuihtan~wct2; nanisd'ninaku~si'win; m,.t"ts-irni'niw d'wiwin; Md' ts-Utsi'AS; wad'kikenin; misik vskj'hsikvn an&'miah niw ini' win as &'ya~tekin usk~hsikun. pah-ka'Mcas~win uhsk~hsikcun, tsiw-ahpitsnan&is'nina'1cusit; MAta'siwin inuh, ind'niw; 4'hsipA'nakuMAn tdh a wiwAnin utt'IcumAn; hdihsipA'nakuman el'WiWAnin upj'1&sehkakan uti'hsAn; ma'wa niw ahsipA'nakuman Ct'wiwAnin Yp5'?sehbkalcA'nan inuh ind'niw; umd'hkesinan mmn ni'"w ini'win niwv is~kinun ayii'wikn. ~iA2.kakWA'ne~nAkii'nikhtAmin. 'hyit'h, ayV'u S&2 teh PA8 way~'kimak! nanis&'nina' kusiw., ind'nihtAmin ki~sj'khseh. h& w, in' $ini'win dtnd'tsin, 'hd'wv. nimd'hs~h tsi-kic's-piW! ini'2, mi,ini'2 M! w~'skiWA't, nimehs6'2, as pi'yen; wleltsita'w nik'iwnani'2talcesiMi'naw Mh-y5's nina2 ap as wawj'kiyah. kAn nik6'tuh we yAk nindwdni'nawan mamdi'tsi~taw.' ~?vd'hin ki~s~'hseh, kj'kitu~tawa'tsin ani'nuh ke~ts-iidt' niWAn. y6'win niw dind'pumikut; ape'2sik niw lkAtaw-nina'kin ki~s~'hseh as a'wit. ta'2, siw ind'niwv isindVkusiwin inuh kiWh'seh, ts'patakan mmn ni, ta'2, Iti'hSAn p62sd'1&kah, misi'k teh umd'2tikWAn as t&'nit. hh'w, iniwi'n teh as 1cjwdtd'niIhtah inuh indi'niw, inih as isi'hinit. ind'niw wi'nah ap paysI'At, d'ta2, wina'I& ap ap4'hsusun pit~mdi'win. pis-pi'htilenit ani'nuh u~na'hSAn ki2sj'hseh, ini'win.'nd'tsin, 'hoiw, ne~na'h, kimdi'Isumin kis-pi'w; wehtsita',w ini'2 as mininihtAMAn as pi'2tunah,' jwd'Ihin kisWhseh. ~1&, h~tw, ini'2 as w~'skiwa'h, kimed'hsumin as pi'At; kinawne~tase'hkakunaw as mak-na'nani'2takesiyah,' ~wdi'hin wi'nah ap indi'niw. Ma — nira yo win niwv dni'pumnikutua2; ta2 siw niku,'n ni niw isana' k~usiW~~kin. k-awi'n undi'nawanan ta2 ani'nulh kiS*~'Asn ayd'winit; tip&'h niw isina'kusiwAkin aki'kvh vhsj'mehsj'ht5wAk. h&Ata2, ini'win -kehk as kjwdtd'nihtah~ inuh, wdita'hsipanaku'mit; ta? ini'ni ni'w is~nd'kusi'win inuh, ki~s~'hseh. htdAta2, ind'niwAk tsijpi'lkitua2 mitsimd'hketua2, ta'2, tip&'h niw nd'tamatowA'kin. kayis-ki'sisi'Ahkoitna?, aku'ahisi'Ahk~wAkin. und'kan niku't ut&'Abpina'mukin as a~tuku'a? m~'sim*Yhse1&. 'hd'w, awjh-ahsa'min kimdi'hs~min; wina'h ap kAts mj'tsih8sV,' ita'wAkin ina'niwAk. ta'2, aw~h-aNtUWd'WAkin vmdi'hs~md'hs~wa'wan. kawin p6't umi 'tsih~sinan inuh ke~ts-indi'niw. haAta2, winu'a2 teh wi'nah m~'tsihsowA'kin ina'niwAk. iniwi'n niw ahbpd'n as ts'2napumiku'tua2 as kAtd'w-niniiwd'ts3in ani'nuh kis1j'ISAn. ta2, y&'Ihpits ni'w kawvi'n,un/i'nawa 'nan ani'nuh kiSj'IhsAn ta2 ani'nulb tsiwj-a'winit ke~tsindi'niw. kdA ta?, 'p6'ts keh ni 'w kina-mehlk6'nine'MUA-W! ind'nilhtAmin ke~t8-ini'niw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 521' "Well, this I suppose must be the man who intends to come and fetch me," thought the girl. When she reached the lodge, and put down her game, - the girl carried a deer on her back, having been on the hunt, - and entered the house, lo, there sat a man on their settee; dreadful was his appearance; a large man he was; his nose was big; it was crooked, and his eyes were set far in. Very lean was his face about the eyes, what with his most forbidding appearance; ugly was the man; and his blanket-robe was of raccoon-skins; of raccoon-skins were his jacket and his leggings; all of that man's garments were raccoonskins; his moccasins, too, were of this same material. Oh, she was horrified. "Dear me, and so this is the man I should be marrying! He looks dreadful," thought the girl. Then she said to him, "Why, it seems my grandfather has come! Fine, fine, fine! It is a good thing, Grandfather, that you have come; we really are lonely here where we live. We never see any people," said the girl, adressing the old man. He merely stared at her; he wanted to know with certainty whether she was the girl. For quite like a man did that girl look, wearing a feather headgear and leggings, and having a bow. So now the man was in doubt, when she was dressed thus. When the man, too, came, he too carried on his back a deer. When her brother came into the lodge, the girl said to him, "Well, big brother, our grandfather has come; truly, I am glad he has come to us," said the girl. "Oh yes, fine! It is very good, that our grandfather has come; he will give us pleasant company in our loneliness," said the man, too. Wonders! He simply stared at them; for they looked like one and the same person. He could not make out which one was the girl; exactly alike in appearance were brother and sister. So now Clad-in-a-Garb-of-Raaccoon-Skin was puzzled; for that girl looked entirely like a man. And when the men cooked and prepared the flesh of the game, they assisted each other with equal division of the task. When they had finished their cooking, they dished out the food. They took a bowl and placed the meat into it. "There, go serve it to our grandfather; let him join in the meal," said one man to the other. So they went and set it before their grandfather. Not a bit did the old man eat. But the men, for their part, partook of the meal. He observed them unceasingly, trying to recognize the girl. But the old man utterly failed to make out which was the girl. Then, "I'll find you out just the same!" thought the old man. 522 522Publications, American Eth~nological Society Vol. XII hid'w, pa'hpis lath dt'win 8a~yeh wein~tipA'hkah, hdAta2, 'lcima'hsu~min na'p wi'nah ap jni'? niw as pas use'sih; kAkfz'hkwA~sit, MdAta2, W~hp,'ltwWAkin; wZ'hpime'win ani'nuh uhsemelbsn inul& ind,'niw as ku,?natut'a2 ani'nuh lce~ts-ini'niwAn. sa~yelh pis-ni'.pi~tAt inuh ke~ts-ind'niw, ni'seh~kaku'tua2, 8inawdi'2 niw pim6'lhnet, taP, inulh indi'niw kawi'n undipainan; ta2, inuh teh wi'na& lki~sZ'hseh aya'wvit wehtsita'w ini'win s k4i'2ts-nipdt. ha'w, inuh teh u~ndi'hsimaw ahklcndhda'win ani'nuh lcc~ts-ina'niwvAn. iniwi' n teh sa~ye'h kit'2tin pis-pits-nawind'hulkutua2; uhkd't~wa2 a'sikAta'ksihlcua2 ini'wrn s pits-una-'pit inuh ke?ts-ind'niw. hotw, ini'win teh s lkAta'pit8-s3ASipd'nikutu~a2, lkAta'w-kemini'kutua2. h&'w, inulh inii'niwv ini'win-pih ki-tahkdi"skawatsin ani'nuh ke~ts-ini'niWAn. 'hAy nimehs6'2I, ta2 di',s~ita'yAn?` lciw-ind-'win. haA, pa'pik- imni'win &sau'akdffm as lci-pdi'pehtsih as ki-wdA-kawiwtd'palci'sgit inu~h ke~ts-ind'niw, nip&'tva2 misi'k. nima'2, tipdl& a'Akwah ini'win kiwv-is3j'2tAt inuh ke~ts-in&'niw s kAttW-ki'mina'tsin ani'nuh ina'fliwAIL. ta'2, kAn ukdi'Jkinawd'nan ta? ani'nuh aya'winit ki?,WS~'An; ini? wdi'h teh as k-Ati'wV-lcina't-sin. ta'?, inuh tch u~ndi'hsimaw ahk~nt'ldiw ahpd'n niwv ini' win niw iwv swap kawi'n nlci-nipa'nuwawan. sa~ye'h s~idk' tahn5'kun aya'wuic, ini'win-pih kay&s-kehk~nd'kut inuh lki~s~'hseh ani'nuh ke~t8-inhi'niWAn. 'hI2W, usd'm wehud'h niw lcla'2simaw lkiwZ'lkimaw. nehka'lb,y6 -pih a-ya'hpits-lkehlkjn5'nalkul; wdi'pah ninaw-awii'ndw inuh pisna,'nalc kisWhseh,' jwd'hin inuh ke~ts-irnd'niwv.,mayatsyA'tua? as pahpi'situa2. ini'win as inim-wj'lhtam~wdi'tsin (tni'nuh uhsi'mehsmn in& niw. 'apa'ApenisiWAk, nehSj'?. ini'? sa~ye'h as kjs-kekhlcn5'nahb Z'hayum kimdi'As3min. mAts'2-wiyAlk d'wiw; aydklu'Ammsrun teh; Zhy6'rn aw-jnct'nAn, ini'h isZ'2tah,' ina'win ul~se'mehsmn; 'kinawmditsi'Arn ~h-y5'hpih; ki'seh d'hlcu'ah kina-pim6'Anem. nehkii'h ii'wik, ini'?-pih aw-atd'mih;- lkilk'tew-pim~'nisiAuku'naw. icine'? teh ne'2tAm a-pim~'nisihuh. sa~ye'A d'lhkwAnd'hkah alk6'tsih ayu'm kj.'s62, ini'?pih aw-ati'mih. IA~tA, nimdi'hs52," kina'w-indiw. AWv, ini's lke~tsi'h piAtd'ydk, ini'? as aw-mi'Aslkawcd'kua? pindi'wAlk; ni'w teh Icinaw-mi'Askawaw&'WAlk; ini'? ni Misas as aw-api'tua? spd'miah me~ti'kuhb. Aa'w, ccsi'A, nimehs6'?, lcAts nipa~mu'awAk j'h-akumt pindl'WAlC; wd'lki2 a-mn 'tsah, lcute'?nas umA'S ini-nip&'yah?" kinaw-i'ndw,' ind'win uhs~'rehsAII; 'hu'w, ini'? niw a-pit8-y6-'h-wAsk9'pahtuk; nine'? teh a'sit a-pits-pimj'nisi'hit. hiiw, as a-ni pa' yn mnis ini'h-pih mVp lcina-rna'tSiAr; nii'wahlcil lkina-pi'Atdanm rArn'tsi~tawAk. ini'?, nehsg'2, as i't awd'tulk; mnu'? naya'tie'siMAt. awui'tuk ii'u'iw, nehsZ'?;inu'? teh mi'n niw a-we'lcMAt, IcWspin sa pi'teyAn elh-ayum lce?t8 -ina,'niw,' indt'win uhsi'mehsAn; 'hd'w, y&'? lkeh a-y6'h-pahlki'Anitiyah, nehsZ'2. mniyd' niW isyA'nun utsi'ke?siah; y6'?-pih ayi'tua? aki'kuh 1928. Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 523 In due time, when night came, then, "Right here may our grandfather, for his part, lie down; when he grows sleepy, he will sleep," said the men one to the other. But they slept together; the man slept by his sister, because they feared that old man. Soon the old man got on his feet and crept over toward them, walking noiselessly. That man did not sleep; but she, the girl, was truly sound asleep. The older one, the brother, kept watch for the old man. And so now, he was stealing up to them; at the foot-end of where they lay the old man came and sat. And then he meant, coming there, to reach in under their covers and feel them with his hand. Then that man would give the old man a hard kick. "Hey, Grandfather, what are you doing?" he would ask him. Instantly the old man would fall over yonder across the lodge, as he flung himself down into lying position, and again they would sleep. Dear me, all night that was the way that old man did, intending to feel those men with his hands. For he did not know which one was the girl; that was why he wanted to feel them. But that older brother always kept on the lookout for him. In that way dawn would come; they did not sleep. When this had been going on for nine days, the girl was found out by the old man. "Now then, it is certainly clear enough that you are living here with your sister. This evening is when I shall entirely find you out; tomorrow I shall take away with me this girl I have come to get," said the old man. When they went off to hunt, on the way the man told his sister of it. "The danger has come, Sister! Now this grandfather of ours has found us out. He is an evil and powerful being; so be on your guard; do as I now tell you," he said to his sister; "You will go from here at once; all day you will walk on. When evening comes, that is when he will overtake you; he will pursue us. You are the one he will first pursue. When this sun is at the height of the tree-tops, that is when he will overtake you. 'Good evening, Grandfather,' you will say to him. Then, when you have gone a short distance, you will scare up some quail; four of them you will scare up; they will alight in various places up in trees. 'Well, Grandfather, let me shoot these quail; what are we to eat when we camp for the night hereabouts ' you will say to him," he told his sister; "Well, right then and there he will start to run back; and then it will be I, in turn, whom he will pursue. Then, from where you sleep, early in the morning at once you will start; at noon you will reach some people. In that place, Sister, is a spirit; to him you will hasten for help. He is a spirit-being, Sister; and what is more, it is him you will marry, if you escape the danger of this old man," he told his .11) 2 4 524 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII MAnma'tsi~taWAk. wd'pah nii'wahlkil kina-pyA'tdM,' ind'win uhs'mehsAn. MnatSYA't~ua2, hU'y, ki?,sZ'hseh we'htsita kd'2tin ini'win s Id~tswdi'p#t. sa~ye'h dt'hkwAnii'hkah di'kutsih, ini'win-pih sd'kats-pi'htsilcet inuh ke~ts3-in&'niw. 'h&w, kAts nipdi'minesiha'WAk,' indi'nihtAMin ke~ts-indi'niw. sd'kit6hnet. MdA2, we'htsita ktdi'2tin kd'kit~wdi'2nenunin di'hsipA'nakuman utdi'kUMAn! mdk~-pim~'pahtuk, kAni'win keh niw tsi-Ikjs-pahki'Anititua2; nicu,'t pits-y~h-wdi'pah y6'win-nakah d'Idkunehah; niku't teh utsi'ke~syah y6'win-nakah di'hkune'hah. hii'w, ta9. ini'win keh misi'k nikut as ki-tstj'2napd'htah inuh ke~ts-ind~'niw. 'hdi'W, ay5'2 keh nimdi'tim5'hsim; ay6'2 aya'wit.' iwd'hin; ani'win teh pd'minesiha'tsin. l,,di'2tin kisWhseh $ mdtk-pi'pimi'pahtuk, ha'w, kAniwi'n keh ni'wl u~md'hs~mdt'hsAn pdi'pik kay&s-pits-Atd'Mikut; itftiti'mih ini'win as pi'tulhne'nit. niMiiA2, kaku'Ane?nAkdi'nihtAmin kis,'hseh. 'apdi'hpeni'SiWAk!' indi'nilhtA'min ki~sj'hseh. hdi'w, ke~tsi'h niw mnis payiAta'tua2, kAni'win niw pina'WAIn6 mayi'Askawa'tua2. hdA, MiSA's niw ini'win me~ti'kuh as api'tua2 aki'kuh pina'WAk. 'naI&Ltv, nimelhs5'2, k.Ats nipa"MU'AWAk ~'h-akum pina'wAk; wdi'ki2 a-m~'sa& UinA'Ss5 nipii'yah?' inii'win vmdi'Is~mdi'hsAn. khi'ta2, kawi'n p6'ts ukiw-ki'kiti'nan inuh ke?ts-ind'niw. miti'muh wi' nah w~'p kay~'S-MAmnd'k, w~'nih ini'win as pimu~'atsin ani'nuh pina,'WAn. niM&A2. Mi-tsi'Ahki~siwin inul& pind'w as afrpi'kitenawa'tsin. h&'w, sa~ye'Ih misi'lc nikut w~'nih misi'k ini'win as pimu'atsin ki~s~'hseh. h&A, iniwi'n apits wj'nih as misu,'atsin, wehtsita'w as pimi'm-tsi'ahki~siwin. ha'w, sa~ye'h misi'k nikut w~'nih misi'k iniwin as pimu'atsin. &A ta2, iniwi'n keh misi'k i'nuh s pJ'pehtsilt. sa~ye'h rnisi'k nikut w~'nih pimi'win. dAtaW, ini'win teh niw ayd'hPin as rnisit'atsin w~'nih. hd'w, utdi'hpine'w?,in ni's ani'nuh Pind'wAn. '1ud'w, niMehS6A2, j'h-akum kina'h ap, kina-mu'awAk, neIhkc'Ih k~ute'2nas nip&'yah, ' ind'win Iki?st~'hseh as ahp&'kituw&'tsin umdi'h8s2mt'hsn. ta'2, ni's telh winah ap inAin'win ki~s~'IAsek. hui'w, inuh ke~ts-inti'niuw ini'win dnit'nihtakh, 'IudA, kAn keh wi'nah kAna'pats j'h-ayum uts-&'winan ki~sj'hsehb. mditsi'w pas i8Z'ki2 as pas rnisu,'atsin w~'nih inuh ki?s~'hseh? kAn pas umdsu,'anan k9'spin ay6'w &'wit; invu'm-e2 tsiw-&'wit. h&'w. inu,'h kAs nipi'minesihaw!' ind,'niht~kmin ke~ts-ind'niw. hoiw, nik~td's niw as a'wik, ini'win s8 ki'nawa'pama'tsin inuh kisW'Iseh ani'n'uh UMdihs&md'hSAn. hii'w, iniwi'n-pihv teh anim e'win teh nikut, ind'niwAn aya'winit, mi~si'k (i'wih-pimj'nisihd'tin inuh ke~ts-ind'niw. h&Ata2. ini'win 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 525 sister; "So here, little sister, is where we part. Go straight northward; that is where those people are. Tomorrow at noon you will reach the place," he told his sister. They started out, and truly then did the girl run fast. When the sun hung at the height of the tree-tops, the old man grew impatient with waiting. "Well, I had better give them chase," thought the old man, and walked out of the lodge. Lo, in all truth, there was a crackling sound in the wind from the raccoon-skins of his blanket-robe! He ran along; soon came the place where they must have parted company; in the direction whence the dawn comes led the tracks of one; and toward the north was the way the other had made his trail. Then the old man kept looking at this one and that. "Well, this one, plainly, is my wife; this is the one," he said; and that was the one he pursued. And truly, as the girl ran on and on, suddenly with all speed her grandfather had overtaken her; there behind her he was approaching at a walk! Dear me, the girl was horrified. "I have come to an evil pass!" thought the girl. When they had gone a short ways there, suddenly they scared up some quail. In various places up on trees did those quail alight. "Now then, Grandfather, let me shoot these quail; what else can we eat when we camp for the night?" she said to her grandfather. Now, that old man had a way of saying nothing at all. The woman for her part, taking an arrow, shot a quail in the head. Lo and behold, the quail tumbled off its perch, as she knocked it down with her arrow. And then she shot another, again in the head, that girl. Right square in its head was where she hit it, and truly it came tumbling from its perch. And then she shot another in its head, this one too. This one, too, fell down. And then the other one she shot in the head. That was where she hit them, every time, in the head. She picked up two of those quail. "There, Grandfather, these here you will eat tonight, when we pitch camp," said the girl to him, tossing them to her grandfather. Two of them the girl took for herself. What the old man thought was, "Why, I suppose, then, that this one cannot be a girl. Would a girl be likely to hit them in the head? She would not have hit them, if this were she; it must be the other one. Well then, I had better give chase to that one!" thought the old man. So then, after a while, the girl lost sight of her grandfather. So now the old man was off pursuing that other one, the man. Accordingly then they went on together, when the man's grand 526 526Publications, American Ethnological ~Society Vol. XiII keh wayitsiAhtittua2, ind'ni kay~S-Ati'mikut uma'hsoma'hsAn. nmdA> pii'pim6'hnitva2, ini'win winu'af? ap s Mi'Aslcawatua2 pina' WAf. h~j~a?, nd'nw ini win s pi'pimu'atsin ani'nuh pina'wAn; ni'w tdA ne~ne 'win. ni's uta'Ihpine'win indi'niw. 'nahi'w, nimelhso'?, kina'I& ap ~'h-akum kina-mu'awAk,' ind'win -umdt'kh6snd'ASAnI. Adt? in&'niw winah ap utrd'hpinewin nit's pind'WAn. ta'?, iniwi'n. -sa~yeh as a-nuhkdi'4. Wseh, nimehs6'2, yos ni'w kAts kind'p&2,' inei'win umd'ksomd'hbSAn. /&aAta2, ind'niw winaib ma'watse'hsiMats8in metikwAn kAtd'wcp6'awetua2, MIiA, iniwi'n lceh wi'nah as ei'yapit ke~ts-irnd'niw, tiitsj'?napumikut. hdi'ta?, ind'niw winal& wii'wahte2 p3'awet, me?8i'h pind'wAn kayis-m~nii'tsin, ma1&ka'hsiWApUt pina'wAn, kayj~s-kVi'sisiahkit, ta'?, hi', ini'win winah na'p s Mi'tsihsit. ta2, inuh tel& umd'1hsdmd'hsAn, iniwi'n niw as api'tua2 aki'kuh pina'IwAk; kawin p6'ts -upamd'nima'nAn ke~ts-ini' niw. Atdiw, way&'pah sa~ye'h misik wd'pulbnewA'kin. MuANa2, mni's as Icjs-nipdi'tu~a2, tipdik d'hkwah kjs-utsi'Anemi'hikin ani'nuh umdi'h8&md'hsAn as ICAt'w-ke'minikut. 1&tdAta?, aIhpd'n niuw kiw-a'mahewin ani'nuh umalhsomd'hsAn,. kAtd'-pit8-kj'minikut. ta? mna ytsyAtua, waya'pal&, hd A, iniwi'n kd& niw as ki-pi'tuhnenit utfiit'mi&. hdA, sa~ydh nay&'wahkik, iniwi'n sa~yeh as kAtd'w-sikej't inuh irnd'niw. ta2, uti'h umd'win niw as pi'tulhnet inuh ke~ts3-indi'niw. inuh me~ti'lk as ts#'patsih, imi'win kiw-i'siAt inuh ind'niw ini's s kAtawaw~'1&-ikj't di'sawiv'htik. MiA, pdi'pik umd'h85mad'h8An ha'saw ume'wn nakah kiw-ina'wiminit, as kAtd'w-pj'hsapu'mikut. 1hita2. ind'ni ini'win ni kiw-i8-ydh-w'i'puhnet. WijA, ini'win kel& aIhpd'n niw d'hpina'nikut umd'khsoma'hsAn as kAtdi'W-pj'hsapu'mikut. MdA, palhpis kah d'win sa~yeh p'i'mi-ni'wahkik, 'h&'w, sa~ye'h tMi-k~s-piAtdi'w nehsZ'h rnAMa'tsitatt'wAn,' ina'nihtAmin in4'niw.ta'2, nik~tdi's aydi'wik, sa~ye'h ini'win we'htsitaw as wd'2sakesit as kAtd'w-sik.~t as ku~nA'tsin ani'nul& uma'/bsmd'h8An. Iui'w, 'ta2 d'nahlcami'kah?' indi'nihtAmin inad'niw. me~ti'kWAn s tsj'patsindi'nik, inim-isi'win, kayj8-mi'Akuna.4 uta'si yen as si'kit. hM', pi'pik inuh ke~ts8-ind'niw umdni'2tamih imi'win as awAk-nj'puwit. 'wi'h, kina'h, ta? d'nahkami'kah g'h-ayumb mAtsj'2-ke~ts-inui'niw? tsZ'2napu,'mina?; ninah a'p ini'h kina'h d'8'inakusj'yAn, ini'? nina'A ap d'sinakusiyAn; tsZ'?napumina'?!' indi'win umdi'h85rnd'h8An, ini'nakah as inei'2namikdi'puwit as si'kit. hMA, kayjs-ndwa'tsin inuh ke~ts-indi'niw, kute'2nas ini'W-isi8 -kuIhkgkd'pu~w&win, kayis-ndw&'tsin. hIJU hz', inu'm-esa2 wi'nah niku't ayii'wit ng'w!' ina'nihtAmin ke~ts8-ind'niuw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 527 father had overtaken him. While they were walking along, they too scared up some quail. Then the man took a few shots at those quail; he killed four of them. The man picked up two. "Now, then, Grandfather, you for your part will eat these," he told his grandfather. The man took two quail for his own share. Then evening came. "Well, Grandfather, let us camp here for the night," he said to his grandfather. While the man gathered sticks to make their fire, the old man merely sat there and observed him. But the man, undisturbed, built the fire, and, after picking the feathers from all the quail, roasted them in the embers, and when he had finished his cooking, he ate his meal. But as for his grandfather, there lay his quail; the old man did not even notice them. On the next day they started again on their walk. Now, where they had slept, all night long his grandfather had kept him at close quarters, trying to feel him with his hand. Always he had warded off his grandfather, when the latter wanted to feel him. Now, when they set out on the next day, there was the other walking close behind him. By noontime the man felt the need of making water. But right there behind him walked the old man. The man would go over to where a tree stood, to make water behind the tree. Then at once, right there, on the other side, the old man would come running to see his nakedness. So then the man would start walking again. And that was the way his grandfather always did to him, trying to view his nakedness. But when, in the course of time, it was full noon, "Now, by this time my little sister must have reached the people," thought the man. Then, in time, he really began to suffer with the need of relieving his bladder, in his fear of that grandfather of his. "Well, what does it matter?" thought the man. He went to where a tree stood and, removing his breech-clout, relieved his bladder. Ho, at once, right over there before him was where the old man came and stood. "Well, what do you think of that? What in the world is the matter with this nasty old man? Just look at me; I look exactly the way you do; just look at me!" he told his grandfather, standing there before him, and making water. When the old man had seen him, he turned round in some other direction and stood there. "Oho, so it is that other one that is my spouse!" thought the old man. 528 ~28 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ini'win pits-y~h-wt'pjyt misi'k ani'nuh, as ~pime'nisi/&a'tsin. nimX2?, pii'pik ini'win as pi'hpahtuk aki'kvh MAMdi'tsi~tawAk as urn''nikanihta?. Mndn'puwit ke~ts-ind'niw, apdbni'1b8Ak as miAna'tsi~ta'tva2 aku,'AtSih, ini'win as ndtwi'tua? ant'nuh keW84-nd' niWAn. 'kii'w, pehni'hSAk! haAta2, aki'kuh pdihni'hsAk as ndwd'tua2, wehtsita'w ini'win as k6na'tua2. nima'?, nanisdi'nina'kvsiw; rna't8-Utsi'A8; wd'kike'nin ydi'hpits8; Ih&'w, vtskU'sikun ana'miah niw j&'ya~teWA'nin, tsi-yahpi'tsnanis&'nesina'kuasit. pihni 'hSAk Wdip.~'1iwe'WAkin as k62na'tua2. 'lcAni' kAni' kAni' kAni', apehni'hSAk! pyA'kun. pyA'kun!' ina'win. hAAta?, aki'kuh pdihni'hs8xk ini'win as nak&'2tAtua2. 'kAn-i'2 nimdi'tem5'hsim db-y6's vul8-pi'Anan?' ind'win. 'ZkA'n! ind'ni keh nisi'k Icis-pi'w; i'h-ini'2 teh MAts3ihkliwi'8 wZ'kih as Vt, ind'wAkin apdhni'hsAk. 'mnu' 2 aya'wit nj'?v, nine'? n~'w; nipis-nd'ndw.' iwdi'Iin. iniwin k-eh ni nan&'h-pakdts as wd'pulhnet as isi'At misi wZ'1ciwAmih, -md"ts-kin6'htem d'wiwin MAtsi'hkiwi's wjk. yii'Ipits m5'skinewAkin ina'niWAk, MAtSi'hkiwis uhs~meIhSAn. y&Ihpi't8 teA mah-mii'waw Uh&'MeIh86W&'WAn, ki~s9'hse1h i'wiwin. ani'win teh ini's wayZVkimatsin inulh kINs?'seh. ini-pi'Atiket, ini'win as undi'pit asu'Alkam ke~ts-ind'niw. wdni'tipdk'hkalh ini'win keh s tasj'kit misi'k tipi'h a'hlkwah, s kAtdW-kWminatsin. apdhni'hseh task6'siwin; init'win tipdhA di'hkwah ay&'mahatsin ani'nvh ke~ts-ind'ni WAn. h&'w, way~' IpaA, ini'win MaMiAna'tsi~tAt inuh pdthni'hseh. sd'kit&'net, inuh ke~tsina'niw, min'win as ndwd'tsin ani'n'uh pdhni'hsAn. pmi'M-t4',pine'win, td'tahkund'ts3in; kute'2nas ini's as kN'neisipd'h'kah, ini'win s k.Ati'wpak&'htawdi'hsimatsin ani'n'uh pdihni'h8An; ini'win as pft'hkihnit~k inih und'h inuh ke~t8-ind'niw. 8a~yeh misi'lc nap&'n t&'pinewin ani'nu~h apdhni'hSAn, tdi-pakd'htawdi'hsimatsin; nayi's ini' win as pit'Akihni't~lc ani'nuh und'hlcAn ke~ts3-ind'niw. ini'win-pih wayei'p~t inuh apdhni'hs3eh as tahkdi'skawatsin ani'nuh ke~ts3-indi'niwAn uhkd'tih. ini'win as p6'hkuskamuwd'tsin ini'h uhkJ't. sa~ye'h misi'Ik nikut p6'hkuslkamuwd'win ini'1& uhidit. ini'win-pih n4'tUMAtsin apdhni'hsAn. 'Aa'w, piAku'n, JYiAku'n pehnihsA'k Ub-ayu,'mr? Ie~ts-ind,''niw pai'hkihnitdw unii'hkAn; kAts kitd~ti'hkislcaw6'naw!' iwdi'kin. ta~td'hkiskawdi'tu~a? ke~ts-ind'niwAn, mini" keh s kNs-ne~n~a'tua2. /cawi'n winah nilc6'tuh Wi' y~n undni'nawihi'kunan inuh ke~ts8-in6d'niw; ani'win ni teh kayj'.s-ne~nikut apdhni'hSAn. M'w, aki'kuh Mita'MUhs&Ak, ini'uwin-pih mdi'waw kayj8-kdikcwd'tua? Icayt~s-ne~ni'mih ani'nuh kcets-ina'niWAn. aki'kuh teA apdihniVsek ini'win as uj' kima'tsin ani'n-uh kis~'As~n; winah a'p teA inuh incVniw ani'win way~'kimatsin ani'n'uh ahs3j'meh8An, kayis-pitu'akut w~'kwa2. ini'? lkeh ii'hkit. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 529 Then he ran from that place, to pursue the other one. Dear me, in no time at all he had run to the place where those people had their village. The old man stood about where the boys were playing out of doors, and they saw the old man. "Hello there, boys!" When the boys saw him, they were truly afraid of him. Dear me, he was a fearsome sight; his nose was large and all crooked; his eyes lay deep-set, so fearsome was his look. The boys ran from him in fear. "Wait a bit, wait a bit, boys! Come here, come here!" he said to them. Then those boys stood still. "Has not my wife come to this place?" he asked them. "No! Only a man has come; and he is right over there in Matsihkiwis' house," the boys told him. "That is my spouse! It's my spouse; I have come to fetch her," he said. And thenat a great speed he walked off to go to that house,a great long-lodge was Matsihkiwis' house. It was entirely occupied by men, by Matsihkiwis and his younger brothers. There was also a girl, younger than all the brothers. It was with her that girl was staying there. Entering, the old man took his seat at the far side of the lodge. When darkness came, he kept himself right there, and all night, too, wanting to feel her with his hands. There was a young lad, short of stature; he it was who all night long warded off that old man. Then on the next day that lad kept playing there. Stepping out of the lodge, the old man saw that lad. He seized him in his hands and held him fast; somewhere thereabouts where there was a sharp-pointed rock, he wanted to throw the lad, so as to break his body: and in this attempt the old man broke his own arm. Then he seized the lad with his other hand, to throw him on the rock; and soon the old man had broken both of his own arms. Then the lad started to run in such a way as to kick the old man in the leg. With his kick he broke the other's leg. Then he stepped so as to break his other leg, too. Then he called the boys. "Come on, boys! This old man here has broken his arms; let us kick him!" they said. With their kicking they soon had killed the old man. No one had ever overcome that old man; but those boys were the ones who killed him. Then all those women went to their several homes, when the old man had been slain. As for those others, that lad then married that girl; and that man married that young sister, when they had brought her to his house. So this is the end of it. 34 530 530Publications, Amterican Ethnological Society Vol. XI] nine 'win-teh-nakah pit8-y~h-wa'pah ayi'tua' kay&s-is-Mdit8yA'tua2; misi'lc teA as nd?'wahkilk i'nakak y6'win-nakak- hei'neh aki'Ikuh wvinu'a2 ap ayi'tua?, awa'tuvcAk teh as 4i'witua2 y6'hpih. s Ices-ne~na'tua2 afli'nul&MAtse'2-awd'tu~kA'n. ini~'2 ma'waw. 114. THE MAN WHO MA RRIED THE MOON. (mise'n malkapi'w) ta'2, lkes-mesa'hlcAtewaw albka'nuh ay6'w kilditskyA'minaw. nahM'w, tsi-ki's-ne~ni'WAn ulki'2SAn. inulh uh,8~'mimaw ayd'wit, Ikaw'n uUc's-misa'hkAtewa'nAfl; lcs-kt'2talkA'tsiwin. naMd'w, iniwinpih tdih kayg'humatsin inuh wdlki'2sit; lkAwin tOh1 ukce-pelbtawa'nAn anih 5'AnAn; siW ki-sd'1citsi'pahtawin. naAhi'w, ini'2. h&'ta2, as Iciwpahpi'situ~a2 anuh wZ'ts-ap/dhni'hSAn, h&'ta2, akcih /ayd'nisiwA/c, wayit-siwi'tsin, wvinu'a? ki-ne~tAkdi'WA/in; wina'/& tah Icawin /di'/c3/ u/ki-ne'?tunmn. inuh tdih ke'2ts-indi'niw wd/ci'2sit kce8-papd'm-isjwd~'win, /kuta'2nAs payi'htikenitsin ani'nuh u/ci'2s,.n kayd'nituh wZ'/ciVA 'mih, inih-pi'h as a-/ci-wdip-/ca/i'h/cutA/dit inu/& iis wdw9'kc&t ta'2, /di'2tin payi'hti/ce'tsin inuh apdhni'hseh, inih-pih ni'w kipahtu/c inuh apdhni'hs3eh s kci-tdi'2tAkcAt8-pe'h&tdh. /h&'w. iniwin-pih tdih icAn p6't8 wiskcino'/bsn u/ci-ne'2nAnAn s kci-pahpiZ'sit. iniwin-pih td/& kAni'w ca y&s-pe'htd/h s mesa'hk/Atewat. ta'?, mittsindi'niw tth sa~yd'h di'wiw. iniwi'n-pih tdth, y6'hpi/ si/ca's8i/pih yorn wiE'/ciwAm d'2ti/c, iniwin ahpZ'ts wd'ts kcayj'8-aw9'h-usi'/tUA/cut wZ'kiwAmZ'hse/b anih 6'hnAn, ini's tith as a-kta8'h-misii'h/cAtewiit. ini?~' tdth as tasZ'h-misit'/kAtewdtt. nyd'nAnu/cun sa~yd'h icAt kdi'k6/& maye'tsik, inih tdh nd'hkah nbye'nAnU'/cun kcay&s-i'?vik, sa~yd'h td/h wiini'tipii'h/ca/, iniwi'n-pih Wli' ~n payi'?tAkcut;, mitd'mu/h tdth &'wiwin. 'kcin~'wah/cund'mit?' iku'ahin anikhMiti'MUhsAn. na/&i'w, me~ti'lk-uniidk'hseh iniwin as m6's/cinikc mi/i, ii'A mi'/cut; ats a'2ti/c; ini'win tah a'yC~k as /u'Apa/hah nih mayZ'tsi/c as mi'tsilsit. nahd'w, 'k~ni'w miisi'k nina'-piAM,' i/ku'ahin anih mitd'MuhSAnl. niwi'n-pih mayatsi'Anit. hit'w, ni'winuh tah ki8-pi'2tA/cin; ini'h tith as-ni'AnAnenuh payi'2 -mitdi'muhSAn, tipdh/ ii'h/cwah niw pimt5'hnewA/cin. sa~yd'h weyit'pah, ini'win-pih payiAtd'tua2 ini's as wj'/cit inuh mitdi'muh. /cene3'htem tith d'wiwin ini's as wj'/cit inuk mitd'muh. uma'na/c pis-y~h-me3'hlkahah iniwi'n s tA'/cdk ni/cu't s/cu'a/htem, misi'/c td/& UMA'nA/cah s ni'/c inA/cah. na/i&'w, inih tdth wj'/ciwAm ayit'pehtaw iniwi'n sk/iptg'ktsi/cAtdk/, cAs/cVh/cini/c&,'tdk/. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 531 Over yonder, in the direction of the morn they dwell, having gone thither; and also in the direction of noon is where some of them stay even now, for they are spirit-beings, they who slew that evil spirit. That is all. 114. THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON. (Misen Makapiw.) Our ancestors of old used to fast at puberty. Once a man had three sons. He who was the youngest did not fast; he refused. So then the father urged him; but he did not obey his father; he would simply run out of the house. So that was the way it was. Now, when he went hunting with the other lads, those others who went with him used to kill game; but as for him, he killed not a thing. But the old man, the father, then went about telling people that whenever that son of his entered any strange house, the man of that house should at once start to preach. And accordingly, whenever that young man entered a house, at once the man of the house would begin to preach. And then the lad would immediately run out of the wigwam, refusing to listen. And at that time not even a little bird did he kill when he went hunting. Then suddenly he obeyed and made the puberty fast. By this time he was a big man. Then, about as far as that house over there is from here, so far off did his father build for him a little hut where he was to fast. There he fasted. When he had eaten nothing for five days, that night, after the fifth day, when darkness had fallen, someone came to him; it was a woman. "Are you famished?" the woman asked him. "Yes!" he answered her. Then, there was a small wooden bowl, all filled with that which she gave him to eat; meat it was. And there was a small wooden spoon; he used it to ladle up what he was eating as he made his meal. Then, "Soon I shall come again," the woman told him. Then she went away. Four times she came to him; when she came to him the fifth time, she took him away with her. He went away from there with that woman; all night they walked. In the morning they arrived where the woman dwelt. It was a long-lodge where she dwelt. At the east end was a door, and at the west. The house was closed off in the middle, partitioned by a curtain of skins. 34* 532 532 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n-pih tdh inim-sdkit&'nit nuk mitd'muh; pihtikatei'in s8ayd'h pi8-wavC'palh, niwi'n-pih paydi'hkiskAk inis s kAs~k~hlcirnk&t'tdk; md'ts-irdt'niw pi8-kit'hnewin; mnd'ts upd&'28ehkcip. kawin po't8 upa'pmz-t8Z'2napurnmi'kunan nis as apO't hpd'ni, as ini-sal'kito'net s Ma'tsiAt. nd'hleah awdi'hsAn pit.5mdi'win, p6'na~sit. utii'hkehkitn iniwi'n niwv as apE' nit; kay&s-ak~nd'ts3in, iniwi'n as p~nii'tsin anilh awdi'hsAn. iniwi'n md'i' as alkuAha'tsin anilh awa'hsAn. 'kA~td', ni2A't, pydi'nun,' in4'win nuh We'WAWAn; ' kAt kimAi'tihsi2.' paya'kWAt8 ani'sa2 61c3'2sima~wan ani'nu/& kayj'8-pi8-awd'nikut, inuh mitdi'muh. hei't&2, as tsi-Icjs-m~'tsi1sitva2, md'nawats8 ni nap mO~'sih85uin inuh indi'niwv; inuh tdth md'ts-ina ni~w i~niwi'tn ns mdi'waw w&-kitamu,'Atsin anih awdi'h8An. paydi'kwAts tcdh ay6'win sp4't-1cWs52 inuh mdt8-indi'niw ayd'wvit; inuh tdih mitd'muh, ay6'uin tepii'Ih-W,'s& ayii'wit. tdA?, iniwi'n tdih as k&s-nd'nuJhi'hkapit inuh inct'niuw sa~yd'h tdih nikut uki'2s~wawAn aya'winit. nah&'w, ini'h-pih tayd'pikinit inuh apdhni'hse/h. inuh ma'ts-ina'niw ini"wi'n-pih ana'tsin anih ap'ihni'hsAn und'hkWAndi'hsn ayd'winit, as a-na'piskA'lcut inis win~ah ki-pap$'m-isiAt as kU'sikah. nahd'w, p6'n kutdi'2na8 s3 a-kahkdi'muhnet iku'ahin anih Vuse'h8An. umi'hikcA'nAn ayow pdhni'I&seh taya-'2takcAt8-mitd~'mit, misi s WAWa'ki&panik, niwi'n s kahkii'm'uhnet nitsi'Akalb. we'pAts niw ydh-pi'win misi wZ'k52. iniwi'n tih di'kvt ani'n~ul usehs~n: 'kildi'timalha'WAk pdmudtisi'tua2 y5s ahkic'1ih. kAnAme'litsiw kIi'k6Ih as a-ki-k9,s-irni'nu~ketva2, p&'pik sa2 yeA a-ki-nehkii'n'. iniwi'n-pih kil& kay~'s-pits~na'tsin anuA wj'2tawan s a-witsi'Akut. niku't tdhA inih updi'?sehkip aiWi&vwin s lcAta'w-papa'm-wascatsidin. nahd'w, sa?ydi'h mayatsyA'tuat9, nayd'wahkik tOh, iniwi'n-pih inirn-ndwdi'tua2 MAMa'tsi~tawan as wj'kinit y5s ahki'hiA. inuh tdh ni'ku~t mama'tsi~taw umAYs ahki'IhiA wayZ'kit iniwin s pe'2tesit u~ndi'kih s miiIhku~td'2sit. ta'?, As ndi'mik inih, mehki'h misi s pe'2tesit, iniwi'n s wAnd'nihtah. anuh wZ'2taWAn, 'a'kih m'md'tsi~tawak as wi'kitua2, inuh tdh niku,'t MAMa'tsi~taw kaygs-pe'2tesit, uti'hsehSAn ni2 niw as seAhk9'Asinenik.' inuh tdb Mdits-ind'niw iniwi'n dnd~'tsin ani'nuh wj'2tawan pa'pAmfw'itsiw'd'tsin, 'naha'w, ni2A't, ay6'2 a-mu'AkihA nd'm as a-?ii'wah — kiyah,' inci'win anih w~'tawan. 'inuh kayjs-pe'2tes3it WAnd'nihtAm. nahii'w, inu'h tah d'ipit indi'niw inn'? a-kehkj'nawit ninah nitd~nd'nihtsikAn as ii'wik-. naM'Wv, in-i2-PihtIdA aw-an6'siwet inuh in4'niw 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 533 Then the woman went out of the house, brought in some meat, and began to cook. So then they ate a meal. In the morning the curtain went open, and a large man came walking out; he wore a large head-dress. In passing he did not even glance at the man where he was sitting; off he went, walking out of the house, and away. In the evening he brought home a bear, carrying it on his back; he came and put down his game. His kettle stood right there; when he had hung it up, he set the bear to boil. When he had finished cooking, he took down a large wooden bowl; in it served the whole bear. "Come, friend, it is time!" he said to his brother-in-law; "Let us eat". It appears he was the brother of the woman who had taken that man away with her. Now, when they had begun to eat, that man ate only a little, but that large man right then ate every bit of the bear. It appears that he was the Sun, this large man; and that woman, she was the Moon. So now this man dwelt there in his wife's house. Soon they had a son. Very quickly that boy grew up. Then that large man told the boy, his sister's son, to take his place going about when it was day. His uncle told him never in any place to make a short cut. But the lad, unwilling to follow all his trails, there where the road was crooked, he took a short cut in spite of the prohibition. Very quickly he came back to their dwelling. Then his mother's brother said to him, "You are causing misery to the mortals here on earth. When they have not yet finished anything they are doing, swiftly the. darkness will come." Then he invited his brother-in-law to go with him. He lent him one of his head-dresses to wear as he went with him on his course. When they had gone, at noon, then, on their way, they saw some people dwelling here on earth. One mortal man dwelling here on the earth, cut himself accidentally in the hand while carving something. When he saw the blood where he had cut himself, he fainted. That large man with whom the other was going about, then said to his sister's husband, "Of those mortal men dwelling there, that one man who has cut himself, his dog is lying right there," - so spoke that large man to his sister's husband who was going about with him upon his course; "Now, friend; this dog we shall eat for our noon meal," said he to his sister's husband. "That man who has cut himself is in a faint. But that man who is sitting there,1 he will know my intent. So then this man who has cut himself 1Presumably, one gifted, through this very act of the Sun's, with the power of medicine. -034 534Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XiI kayjs-pe,'2tesit anuk uti'hsehs~n s aw-aI,8&'minah, sa~ya'h na'wvahkilc s a-mu'Akih inuh And'm.' nahM'w, iniwin-pilh t4Ih inuh ind'niw ldi'hkinah winah?4tdnd'nihtsikAn as a'wik inuh mdts-ind'niw. 'inil&-pikh td1h a-w~'htah ninah as ind'nihtAMAn, s aw-ahsa'minalh ani'nuh uti'hsehSAn; ini2-pih tcih a-mi'1hnuwv-it inuh ind'niw, uti'IhsehsqAn8s ahsa'minah.' lea ys-mni'tsihsitua?, Mdts3yA'tua2 mdlk-pepemfi,'lnitua?, pimditesi'nit iniwi'n as inim-ndiwd'tiua2 mikii'tinit. ta'2, inuh Mdit8-indi'niw, ay6'2 lcWs6 ayii'wit. nahd~'w, aku'h mayilci'titua2, nikut inuh in4'niw hpa'n niw ne'2newin ani'nuh ma yikdin&'tua2. ay6'2 tdhl mei'ts-in4'niuw kay~s-indt'niMA'tSin, wdi'h kuhlci'w as is.klit inuh mayikui'hkit imi's, y~s ahlci'hih mnilke'titua?. nahdi'w, iniwi'n-pih teh pi8-kiwd'tua2 lwt~'W?. kayj's-pi'etua? inis w~'k?, iniwi'n-pih teh wayj'2salcesit inuh miti'mulh, inuh ind'niw W~'W~n ayd'winit. nahd'w, iniwi'n tdlh as sd'lcisit inuh ind'niul; utah d'win d'si~tAt PA5 nnd'tAWihd'tsin; icawin kd'kc61 ukd'lhkinanan?flA~ski'lkiw. nahii'w, anuh tdh w~'2tawan iniwvin d'lcut, 'p~n lkd'k~h sd'lcisinun.; ini2 ni'w kiw-is#j'lih; niwuku,'nalcah, ini'2-pi& a-m&'knuwv-it.' nahd'w, wayd'pah k~s-mdi'lnvw-V'win inuh mitd'muh. nalhd'w, iniwin-pih inuh md'ts-ind'ni'w, - mis s k-Aslki'hkicnikc'Idle, ini?s wj'keit inuh md'ts-inei'niw, - iniwin-pih wayei'pitund'skeAt keali'lhkimA'tein ani'nul& uk5?3sima'wAn: 'sa~yd'h leinaw-isyA'mu(AW ayum ind'niw kayj8-y6l&-pi'nAt; leinaw-isi'AmuAw o'lhnAn as awaw~h-nd'wdle. sanawd'2 niw awAd&-yi'nun ini's s aw-aw~h-nuhii'hleApiyen. p~n led'k~h wi yAk awZ'l&-ihipd'nasin; sanaw&I'2 ni niw awz'hdyi'nun.' iniwi'n-pih mayiitsyA'tua2 s isi'Atua? ani'nuh 6'hnAn inuh ind'nsw. iniwi'n-pilh pd'muhnitua2. led'2tsilh niw payiAta'tua?, iniwin d'leut ani'nuh w~'wan, 'nahd'w, ini2 niwv ld'2tsih as wi'leitua2 le6'lhne2; y6'? niwv as a-pi'hinah.' iniwin-pih maya'tsyAt inuh ind'niw. lkd'2tin iniwi'n led~tsi'Ii niw as wj'keinit o'hnAn ulki'yAn inulh ind'niw. u'mAs sa~ydh payi'Atat nis selkA'nAh, iniwi'n-pih pis-s&,lit5'lhnet inuh lee'2ts-ind'niw. leawi'n5ndnd'leunan ani'nukh 6'hnAn. iniwi'n teh dnd'tsin: 'nind'? ayd'wi yen, nuhnd'?!' nahd'w, iniwi'n-pih inuh kei?ts8-ind'niw taydpinA'tsin ani'nuh ulei'?sMn as d'yutsimd'tsin. iniwi'n-pih' wayj'hnAtSin ani'nu iv w'wAn inuh lee'2ts-ind'niw: pi'w kleie'2sinaw leay&s-wAn~'hsiMAleih!' iniwi'n-pih pis.-sd'leitO6'lnit inuh wj'yAwkelel as pis-tdpina'tsin anih ulei'2sAn as d'yutsimd'tsin. iniwi'n tdlh dnd'tsin ani'nuh ulei'yAn inul& ind'niw, 'leAn nAhd&'25 nipi'AnAn; mitd'muh nipi'ndw. pinaltsilcd'nun, tstjkAtalhikd'nun; ninaw-aw~'h-nd'ndw inuh mitd'mulh nimd'teme3'sem.' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 585 will give orders to give us that dog of his to eat, so that when noon comes we shall eat the dog." Thereupon that man knew that this was that large man's intent. "At once now he will tell that I desire that he give us his dog to eat." When they had eaten and had gone from there and were walking on, they saw on the way people who were fighting each other. Now, the large man, he was the Sun. Of those fighting, one man always killed those against whom they were fighting. This large man had bestowed this upon him in thought, that was why that man fighting there had supernatural power, as they fought each other here on earth. Thereupon they came back home. When they had come to their dwelling, the woman was sick, that man's wife. Then that man was frightened; he was at a loss what to do to treat her; he knew no medicine. Then his brother-in-law said to him, "Do not be at all frightened; this is what always happens; on the fourth day she will be well." The next day the woman was well. Then that large man, - there where the wigwam was partitioned by a hanging of skins, was where that large man dwelt, - now began to speak, advising his sister, "Now you will go there whence you brought this man; you will go visit his father. Go and stay in peace there, dwelling with your husband's people. Do not in anything injure anyone; go and stay in peace." Then they departed, going to the man's father. They walked on their way. When they had come near the place, his wife said to him, "It is near here that your father's people dwell; here is where we shall wait for you." Then the man went on. It was true that close by there dwelt his father and mother. When he had almost got there, that old man came out of the house. His father did not recognize him. Then he said to him, "It is I, Father!" Then the old man embraced his son and kissed him. Then the old man called his wife by name, "Our son has come whom we had lost!" Then out came that old woman and took her son into her arms and kissed him again and again. Then that man said to his mother, "I do not come alone; I am bringing a woman. Make the house clean and sweep; I shall go get that woman, my wife." 5 36 536Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII iniwi'n-pilh ma ya'tsiAt s nawjh-nit~mdi'ts8in aninuh We'WAn s pyA'tua2 ani'nuI o'hflAns5 wj'kinit. h4'ta2. ini'2 kah as Ucs-pi'Atva2 inis o'hflAn uki'yAn as w~'Icinit. naMd'u7, wayd'pah pahp~'sit inuh indi'niw, apdi'hsus8un pindi'win nis wj'k~wa2. 8a'matin as lk6'2tani'lkUsit inuh ind'niw. ani'nuh Mitdi'MUh8An wayjkiMnA'tsin, iniwi'n wdh-k6'2tAMi'IkUsit; ini'? rind'nimikcut anih wj'wAn. nahJ'w, iniwi'n kdh wawev'lcMAtua2 ani'nuh 6'hnAn ulk%' yAm hinuh indi'niuw, s imnith&'hpalkit inuh miti'muh. hdc'ta2, mama'wAlkin pdmdtisi'tua2 ini'8 s wi'kitua2. ahkA'num kdh mitd'muhsAk lkiw-MAna'hniWAkin; ima'niwAlk pahpg'situa2, lkisih d'hlkwah ini'? kayjs-inai'nuh&1e'tua2 Mit~i'MuhSAk, mand'hnetua2, Mehsg' WAnls us,3ihtvkua2, pit'tawetua'?. nahcd'w, imniwi'm tdh dmd'tsim imuh ind'niw ani'nuh uki'yAn, 'acu/rn mitii'mulhsAlk s /ci-mAnct'knitua2, p~m /cd'Ich icAts /ciw-ima'wA/ amum nimdi'tem5'hsemrnm. kAm pdimd'tesit y58 ahki'hih uted'winan.' imiwi'n pid'pm-wiZ'htah imuh we' YAWe/eh kAm kdi'/ch $ aw-ihp/inAmA'tua? ani'nuh mu~h/cAni'ahkiWAn. mi/cu't Uth rnitd'muh misi s MAnf~'khmitua2, sa~ydhk /ay~s-nayii'hinit ami'muh umd'hsimAm, iniwi'm-pih a'wih-kalbtswd'pinAtsin ani'nuh anul& nulhi'hlcAni'ahlkiWAn. imiwli'n ahpd'n niw as kca/cputsihud'tua'? ami'nqth nulih/ckAni'AhkiWAn. 'ay6'win kcaI awdi'tukc-ritcd'muh!' kiw-ind'wAkim. sa~ydh usd'rn me'2si& tahna'nulh 4'IpinA'mikcut, iniwi'm-pih yc3'm a'si~tAt anul& mita'muhSAn usUc'hsikcuh. iniwi'n niw as nipi'/c inuh nahii'w, imiwi'm di'tua2 a/cuh a'neh mitd'muhsAk, 'hcl'n~w kcikcsWj'1&tAMAkca2 awdi'tudk-mitd'mvnuh ah tsiw-&'wit inul& nulhdhkAni'ahkciw.' nal&&'w, iniwi'n-pih kayjs-kcj'kituUti'/ut aninuh k56/62ima'wam anuk ma-ts-ima'niWAn: 'kcina'w-awj1h-md'?ts3inamndw inuh peimi'tesit ini's ahlci'hiI. pis-kcjwd'nun tsiyd'w. awcd'tuc kcima-nehUc'hiiw. awdi'tule u~ti'nAn a WiWAfl, a/ci'/cuh ahki'hih pdmdtesi'tva2.' ini'? 1'hkcik. 115. THE MAN WHO MARRIED A DEER-WOMAN. (nelhtsi'wilhtu/c) Iui'w, Www'kci'wA/cin /eh MArnd'tqi?taWAk; m4'ts-mimi'ini &'wiwim uma'nikan~waw, wdw~'/citua?. ta'?, piihni'hgAkc risi'/c teh ina'miwAk as pa1&pZ'situa2, di'ta, /ci-ne'?ewWA'kin api''hSusun, MaMi'tsihsitua?. hd'w, miku't /ce?ts-imc'n'iw w~ts-wZ'yAw~cehkcun misi'/c tek u/ci'?sAn,apedhni'kseI& d'wiwin, - wdwi'kitua? wimu'a? ap. /cawi'm ni/c6'tuh und'?ta/ce'nan inulh apalhni'hsel&. wd'Ihtsita teh wti'mah ami'nuh 5'hnAm 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 537 Then he went to call his wife to come where his father dwelt. So now they had come where his father and mother dwelt. On the next day the man hunted, and he brought a deer to their house. Very great was the extent to which this man was endued with power. That he was married to that woman was the reason of his being endued with supernatural power; it was his wife who by an act of thought gave this to him. So now they continued to live with his father and mother, the woman staying with her husband's people. Now, many were the people there where they dwelt. Of old the women used to gather firewood; while the men were hunting, all day long this was what the women did, gathering wood, preparing firewood, and building the fire. Then the man said to his mother, "Let not these women, when they are gathering firewood, say anything out of the way to my wife. She is not a mortal creature of this earth.". Then the old woman went about telling it, that they should do no offense to that daughter-in-law. But one woman, there where they were gathering firewood, when she had just got her load of firewood on her back, went and pushed that daughter-in-law so as to throw her off her balance. In that way they always tormented the man's wife. "And so this, they say, is a spirit-woman!" they kept saying to her. When she had been too many times thus mistreated, she did like this' before that woman's face. Even then did that woman die. Then said some of those women, "Well, were we not told that this daughter-in-law is a spirit-woman?" Then she was addressed by her brother, that large man, "You will, in your stay, exterminate the people there on earth. You will have to come back home. You will anger the Spirit. Creatures of the Spirit are these people of the earth." That is where it ends. 115. THE MAN WHO MARRIED A DEER-WOMAN. (Nehtsiwihtuk.) Now, there lived some people; large was their village where they dwelt. When the youths and the men hunted, they killed deer, and so got their food. In that place lived also an old man with his wife and his son, a young lad. That lad never killed any game. 1 The evil gesture: fist extended and then opened, palm down. PI 9 O J00 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol1. XII Ulci'yAn, neI&j'1-m5'nahamukin; wad'pimbi'nan wina'mehkcwAnan MASkfuts8Vh8An me~si'h ki-pi'tsilkiud'wAlkin aki'kuh kitski'WAlc. inu'h tdih ke?ts-indi'niwv kawi'n v.ukiw-pahpE'8inan, sa~ye'h ke~ts-ind'niw as a'wit. h&'w, uki'2SAn ti'h ii'n~w ki-pahpi~siuunin; kawi'n nik6'tuh kd'lk~h qu(nd'?tvnan inuh ap~dhni'hseh. d'ta2, apahni'hSAk ttih wi'nah k,,i-papina'WAkin apd~'hsusun,. mbdri'tsihsitUa2. mnc'wa niw klISj'hSAn ki-mi'Asin&'2ni kin inuh apdhni'hseh, kAn nik6't'uh, as ne'2tAkdit. haAta?, ta'2 teh pA8 a'Si~tAt? nik6'tds ay&'wvik ini'win as w&'W~t iuuh apdihni'hseh; ini'win Ikdh as ni'pdt kuti'2nas. kay~s-p6'awet, a'yapit wdni'tipa'hlkah, ICAfi'WIifl kdh ni'w Wi' yAk payftiwd'skah, as rnak-a'yapit apdIhni'hseh. 'ha, wd'nit6'wVAk ay& 'wit C'h-aiyum payi'2tawit?' ind'nihtA'min (apdhn~'hseh. nik~td,'s sa~ydt'h aya,'ts-wa,?sa'hkunik pitS-piAta'nit, nimei'2, kP~s~'hsAn pi'2takin apdktni'hseh ini's as w'W~t as ni'piit. hd'w, ini's as a'pit, ini'win s pits-apj'nit. i&'W, td'2 teh UMA~'S d'sj2ta'yAn?' ilku'ahin ani'nuh ki~sj'h8An. ha'ta2, iniwi,'n lceh as tiki'si~tawd'tsin; kehk-'nam ma wa niw as kiw-mi'As9indi'2nikut ki~sj'1h8An. ha'ta2, 'y6'2 kdih ~' h-a yum s kAtd'-pitS-rniAsind.'2sit,' ind'nihtAmin apahni'hseh. 4haA, kAn wi'nah!' iku'ahin aninuh ki~s6'hSAnI; 'nd'sap ni'w i'halci'm-e2 m65'2nawina~wa'kua2 kikdtslki'AMAlk 1k'hne2? misi'Ik td'h ki'kiah, as nehE'h-m5'naha'hkcua2, wcd'pimi'nan wind'mehlku'Anan mask~tsi'hSAn as kiw-pi'tsikiMd'tua2 me~si'h; ini'O? ni'nah kayii'2tsmini'nihtA'MAn; kikd'tewv-teh-w~'kimin; kika'tewt,-wi'tSiAn kg'k~wa2,' iku,'ahin apdhni'hseh. oA, iniwin as pch!iiwd'tsin. 'ha'w, kAn wi'nah kAna'pats j'h-ayum pdma'tesit uts-a'winan,' ind'nihtA'rnin apdhni'hsch. ini'win niw as ki-kehkcind'kut ini'h dndi'nihtah inuh apeihni'hseh. ini'? tih wah-ma'mahkAtd'nihtah inuh apdlhni'hseh ini's as 1kehk~cni'kut inih dna'nihtah. aTahei'w, 'h&'w!' ind'win jyihni'hseh; 'wj'skiWA't!' ta"?, wd'puw'~ycn pimi'm-anilhlcihts8ilewin in'uh mifti'muh. ha'ta2, kay~,s-andhki'htsiket, iniwi'n ke-h as nipa-'tua?, apflini'hsek tatsekha'ta2, wayd'pah, 'naMd'w, IkAtd's kiwc''nun; kina-wj'htam6wiiw k6'hne2 misi'k td'il lkili'yalh. lkahni'w ni'wulku'nakah, ini'?-pilb a-WitSi'Anan,' iku'ahin; 'misi'k wdi'pah s a-pahp i'si yen y5's niw, kits-pi'Am,' ilcu'ahin pdhni'hseh~; 'umdi'? niw kii~tsi'h as wg'kiyek. hi'w, i'h-inis teh piAtdi'yAn, ini'? as a-nd'wat ne?ne'h; kina-ne'In~aw,' iku'ahin We'wVAn; 'nehlka'h misi'k lkina-pi'Am,' iku'ahin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 539 His father and mother were great farmers; Indian corn, squash, and beans those old people raised ingreat quantity. The old man did not hunt, on account of his advanced age. But his son, although he used to hunt, never killed anything. But the other youths kept bringing home deer to eat. All the young girls made fun of that lad, because he never killed any game. But what could he do about it? Once upon a time that lad lost his way, and so camped out somewhere. When he had built his fire and was resting, in the night, suddenly came the sound of someone's footsteps, as the lad was sitting there. "Why, I wonder who this is coming to me?" thought the lad. Then, soon, when that person came within the firelight, lo, it was a young girl who came to this lad there where he had lost his way and was camping. To where he was sitting she came and sat down. "What are you doing here?" said the girl to him. Now, of course, he was shy before her, for he knew that all girls made fun of him. "Of course now, she has come here to make fun of me," thought the lad. "Oh, not at all," said the girl to him; "It is only that I admire those old folks of yours, your father and mother, because they are such good farmers and raise so much corn and squash and beans. I take great delight in that, and therefore want to marry you; I want to go with you to your home," she said to the lad. Then he believed her. "Now, I suppose this person cannot be a common mortal," thought the lad. "That is right," she said to him. In this way she always knew the lad's thoughts. The lad marveled at her knowing what he had in mind. Thereupon, "Yes," said the lad to her; "It is well." The woman laid out a robe upon the ground. When she had laid out their bed, then they went to sleep; so here the youth first slept double and was married. In the morning, "Now go home. You will tell your father and mother. Later on, in four days, I shall go with you," she said to him. "Tomorrow again, when you hunt, you must come to this same place," she said to the lad. "Right close by over there is where you live. Now, when you get as far as that place over there, you will see my older brother. You will kill him," said his wife to him. "Tonight you will come again," she told him. 540 540Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII &V'w, mayd'tMiAt apaIhni'hse1&, pd'pem6'hnet, kdi~tsi'h misi payi'Atdt, nim&'w2, wd'htsita'w md't8-aya'pdw ini'win as n~'puwit. w&'walhtd2 pnnm-me'sihsowin. pe?si'k lke~tsi'h kay~'s-piAtit, Wj'p kay~'8-mAmdlk, iniwi'n-pih pamu'atsin. `ts&'m!' iniwa'hnenin inih w~'p. MIa, aya'~pdw ume'win-pih niw inim paki'nilkit wd'pakutsih. hdi'w, apin~i 'hseh td'2SilCAn kayes-mAmd,'k, w~'nanihet'win. ~5sd'2 -nawahk 1ayt~s-Mmdr~'sah, kay~s-uhpj't61k WG'WzAs, kHwd'win. haA' payi'Atdt w~'kWva2, pi'htikewin, pak.tasit uk~i'An uti'htanih. 'dA, nikiVs! wdi'ni? na'p ayd'puku'ahih?' ind'wlin. 4hal ne~d'h, nind'2 niw kay~'8-ne~nak!' d'ta2, kin6'Ihtame'win Uki'2sMn. hA, n6'hne2 nina-wits~iv'w m s a-nd'ta?8i yak,' ind'win ukyi'ym. ha',~ hI', ini'win keh na'p as min~'nihtak W~'yAW~1eh. $d'hpis kah ei'win sa~yd&l 1kayj8-Mi'tsihsit apdhni'hseh, ini'win-pih mayjtsyA'tu~a2 6'hnAn, nd'ta~si'tua2. I&&A, payiAtd'tua2, kd'2tin ma'ts,aya'pd'w siwas sehkehsinin. nimdi'2, ke~ts-ina'niw wa'htsita ka'2tin ini'Win s mini'nihtah ukVi?sAn s ne~tAka'nit. 1kay~s-wZ'nanZ'htsiketua2, ta'?, iniwi'n-pih kayiwd'tua. payiAta'tua? wj'k-5wa2, wg' yAwe,kehlc6'hch, ha', wd'htsita'w ini'win as mini'nihtah, uki'2sAn as ne~tAkd'nit. mj'tsimj'hseh sdmi'natin. waya'pah misi'k as pahp~'sit, ha'ta?, wa'ki? tek a-pmi'm-ne'2tulk? nd'hlcah pi'win ini's as tsi-kj's-nipiit. iniwi'n Misi'k pits-p6'tawet apdihni'hseh, p p1 ha'tsin we'wan. kayjs-WAni'tiprd'hkah, 8a?yd'h nm3'sihewin apahni'hsel& wi'yAn as pi'?talcut. Md'w, kd'?tin pi'win miftd'mu~h. nimd'?, nand'h-palka'ts wdhtsita'w mZ'hkcawatesi'win inuh 1ki~s~'hseh. h&'ta2, apdhni'hseh kakj'Jkit6tawe'win we'wAn, dyii'tsimi'2tatitua2. ha'ta'?, nilc~td's kdkfi'hkwa~situa?, andh~ihtsilcewin misi'k inuh mitd'muh, kisWhseh, nipii'tua?. ha'w, waya'pah, 'nahii'w, misi'k ne~ne'h y5'? as aw-inim-ndf'wat,' ilcu'aIhin; 'Misi'k kina-pi'Am, ~h-y5's; y6'? misi'k as a-nepa'yah,' ikn'ahin.,mdtsi'win pdhni'hseh. skAs ni'w ihpih payi'Atdt, aA, kAni'win kd'k niw misi'k rnd"ts-ayd'pdw p4'mim-n~'puwit. ha'w, pe?si'lc kdi~tsi'h isi'win pdhni'hseh, awAh-pimu'atsin. 'tsA'm!' iniwa'hnenin wj'p;- m&'2, ume'wvin-pih niw ini-w4'pakutsih aya'pdw. Uti'2silkan kay&~-ki'2tinah, winanihdi'win apdhni'hseh. usa-'2nawah kaye~-8 nay6'htah, matsi'win as kWwdit. aya'pukn'ahih?' '-hA, ne~d'h, nine'? niw nd'?nak,' w&v'hin; 'n6'hne? nina-witsl'waw s a-ndt6'malkih,' ind'win ukt'yAn. hdatfaP, kay&s-mi'tsihsit apdihni'hseh, matstwAlkin 6'hnan, nii'taQ 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 541 When the youth set out and was walking along and had got a little ways from there, lo, there indeed stood a large stag. It kept right on grazing. When he had got still nearer, he took an arrow and shot it. "Whizz!" was the sound of that arrow as it flew. Right over there the stag fell in its tracks, head over heels. The lad took his knife and skinned and dressed it. Taking the brisket and tying up his pack to carry, he went home. When he arrived at their house, he entered and set down his game at his mother's settee. "Why, it is my son! Who in the world has given you a treat of game?" she asked him. "Oh, Mother, I myself killed it." She doubted her son's word. "Well, I shall go with Father to fetch the load of game," he told his mother. Then the poor old woman was delighted. In due time, when the lad had eaten, he set out with his father to fetch the game. When they got there, there, it was really true, lay a big stag. Oh, but the old man was truly glad that his son had made a killing. When they had skinned it and cut it up, they went home. When they arrived, the little old woman was glad indeed that her son had killed some game. There was a great quantity of meat. On the next day, when he again went hunting, of course he killed nothing. At nightfall, he came to where he had slept. Then the youth again made a fire and waited for his wife. When night had fallen, the youth again felt that someone was coming to him. And the woman did, in fact, come. Oh, indeed, splendidly handsome was that young woman. So then the young man conversed with his wife, and they told each other of this thing and that. After a while, when they grew sleepy, the young wife again laid out the bed, and they went to sleep. Then, the next morning, "Well, now, here on your way you will again see my older brother," she told him. "You will come here again; here is where we shall sleep again," she said to him. The youth started off. When he had gone a certain distance, there, sure enough, again stood a big stag. The youth went still nearer to it and shot it. "Whizz!" sounded the arrow, and lo, right over there the stag fell headlong. Taking out his knife, the youth skinned it and cut it up. He took the breast-piece on his back and started for home. When he came to their dwelling, "Why, it is my son! You are doing great things, Son! Who can it be has been giving you a share of game?" "Oh, Mother, it is I myself killed it," he said; "I shall go with my father and we shall fetch it home on our backs," he said to his mother. So then, when the youth had eaten, he went with his father to 542 ~i2Publications, American Eth-nological Society 'Vol. XI] situa2. payi'Atua2 w~'cewa2, kdi'2ts-madmi'tsihsitua2, d'i, MWM1e sdmi/natin. h&'w, wvaya'pa/h misik-, apdhni'11seh matsi'win, paIhpZ'sit. &'ta2,,w6Vli2 tel& ndi'2tuk? ta?, kisih d'Ihkwah &'nuwi as pakpZ'sit, iCAn k4'kC61 undi'?tunan. ha'w, matsi'win ini's as tsi-ki-ni'pa-t. payi'Atat. Idi'2tsmand'Ihnet, kAniwi'n lkeI nil misik may6'siha'tsin 'we'y.,Af as pi'2tAku1,t. 4adA, We'wVAn ji'WAnin, hd'ta2, ini2 kdhI kdki~i'kititua2, ni~p4'tua2. ivaydi'pah m~i'p, 'ha'w, nehka'h misi'k kits-pi'AM; ni"'2 tdh sa2 yak 53 a-witsi'Anan; kU'kwa? nika'taw-isi'AM,' qk'hn n~ehkinawlini-ndt'qdiv ~' h-UMAS, k&WayAn,' iku'ahin. maya'tSiAt, sikAs ni',w ihpih payi'Atdt, ki'2tin, nimd~'?, md"tsaydi'pdw pmnim-nZ'jjmwi'win. ape'2sik ke'2tsih isi'win as awi~hpimu'atsin apdhni'hseh. 'tsa'm!' iniwa'hnenin wZ'p. aydi'pdw wa'paku,'tsinin. utii'2sikAn Icayis-kiVtinah awd&-wd'nanihef'wjin. h~dAta2, sd' 2nawah~ kay&s-nay6'htahz, kUwd'win. iidA, weyAwekehklbksel&, tji'2. 'hd~', niki'h wdt'ni2 nap niw ayai'puku'ahjh?' '1& A, ne2'i'h, nine'? niw na'2nAk-; n6'hne2 Aina-witsi'vww -s ana'ta~si yak, kjs-mi'tsihsi yen,' ind'win uki'yen. ha'w, kayis-mi'tsihsit, madtsi'WAkin o'hnAn, n&'ta~situa; ke~tsindi'niw wZ'nane'Ibtgikewin, kjw4'tua2. payi'Atua? wZ'kiva2, We'yAw~kehk5'hseh kd'2ts-mdimE'tsimdi'hket, sdmim'natin sa~yi'h mnz'tsimz'hseh. &'ta?, imi's keh aku'Atsih as ki-papa-m-kj"wikapuwit inuh apahni'IhseA, ini'win s ki-1di'2ts-dydy6'sina'kut ki~sZ'hAII, mi's as ne'2tAkdit..ha 'wd'ninZ2 na'p 6'h-ayum pahni'hseh kiw-&'pulku'ahikut ini's s3 ki-ne~tA'kiit?' kiw-iku'alhin ani'nuh k~s9'IhSAn, n'AdMi'Asina,'2nikut. a'ta2, kawin, p6'ts uki-pimdi'nimanan apdhni'hseh. ta'2, ma'wa niw ki~sZ'h8An 1kis-sWhkanikin inuh apdhni'hseh, ini's kAn nik6'tuhb as ne~tA'kd~t. nahdi'w, iniwi'n-pih wayj'htam~wdi'tsin 6'hnAn Misi'Ik teA u'IcAnb: 'Ci', nuhne'?, Z'h-UMA8 as ki-nipii'yan, kutd'2nas as k&~-wdw!' yen, ini'? ki?89'hseh as kUs-jfi'tawit. ta'? ini'? t4A as wZ'htamu-wit, tsikAtd'w-wZ'kimit. "nikd'2ts —mu'2nawe'naw&'wAk ~'A-akum lcildt8ki'AMAk, UinA's as neAU'A-m5'nahii'hkua2, kii'k6h as kiw-p~'tsikg'htukAma?, u'td'piminan wini',inehkw-.-nAn mnAskotshAsn. aki'wAk m4'?Z'nawinawa'kua2, wdh1 s k-Atdw-wj'kiminan," niti'kuah inuhk 1i?89'hseA,' indi'win o'IhnAn uki'yun. 'Aa'w, wdwd'nin, niki'A! kisduwd'nihtak'u'simn; nimdini'niktan as 'yd'hpiA tdiA misi'k8s a-pahpZ'si yen, wii'pah kAni'w misi'k nina'Pi~m. mni'? tdA sayd'Ahs k-Atd'w-pits-witsi'wit, wvd'pah pz yen, ina - win 6'hnAn misi'k tdh uki'yAn. 1928 Blownfield, Menomini Texts 543 fetch home the game. When they came home they ate heartily; there was a great plenty of meat. On the next day the youth again went out to hunt. But what chance had he to kill anything? All day long he hunted, but not a thing did he kill. Then he went to the place where he had been camping. When he came there and had gathered plenty of dry wood, then again he felt that someone was coming there to him. His wife came; so then they conversed and slept. Early the next morning, "Now then, tonight you must come again; and this time I shall go with you; I shall go to your house," she said to him; "You will see my older brother right over there, as you go home," she told him. When he went away and had gone a certain distance, there, truly, stood a large stag. The youth went still nearer to it and shot it. "Whang!" resounded the arrow. The stag tumbled over. He took out his knife and set about skinning and cleaning it. Then, carrying the brisket on his back, he went home. Oh, the little old woman, "Why, Son, who in the world has been sharing his game with you?" "Oh, Mother, I killed it myself. I shall go with my father to fetch the game, as soon as I have eaten," he said to his mother. When he had eaten, his father and he started out to fetch the game; the old man cut it up, and they came home. When they got home, the little old woman kept hard at it, preparing the meat; so now there was meat in great plenty. But when that youth now stood around here and there, outside the house, the young girls kept laughing at him because he had, forsooth, made a killing of game. "Why, who can it be has been giving this young man gifts of game, so that now he is by way of killing things?" those girls would say to him as they mocked him. But the youth paid no attention at all to them; of course, all girls disliked him, because he never killed any game. Then he told his father and mother, "Father, over there where I have been camping out, in a place I strayed upon, a young woman came to me. She told me that she would marry me. 'I very much admire those old folks of yours, because they are good farmers and raise things, such as corn, squash, and beans. Because I admire them, I want to marry you,' said this girl to me," he told his father and mother. "Oh, I am glad, my son! You are very fortunate; I am glad you are going to have a wife," said the old man. "When I have again hunted this day, I shall come back tomorrow, and that is when she will come with me, when I come back tomorrow," said he to his father and mother. r-x x t)44Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XIJ 'nahd'w, niki'h, wvdwv 'pats8s3dwdinihtakcusi yeni.' e-9wd'hin wina'h ap itnuhWj' yAWekeh. h~ita2, wvayJ'pah misi'k mdtsi'win apdhni'hseh s pahp~'sit ki'sih &'hlkwah. hd'w, ndi'hkah pits-isi'wvin misi, tisi-ki-nipa&'t. MAna'hnet, p6'awet, lcAniwi'n niw misi'k payi'Anit Wj'wAn. d'ta2, ayd'tsimi'tua2, nipd'tua? misik, mi'p ini'2 teh sa~yd'h s wivisiwa'tsin, kiwdi'tua2. payiAta'tu~a2 qv'k~wa2, pi'htilcet apethni'hseh, we' yAwekel& kj'sdts ts8i-1cjs-pj'nihtawin wi'kiwaw. misik ani'nuh uki'2SAn kjs-pdtsandhki'htsiket, and'hkyAIIAn Way '.skiwd'hkin ts3i-1kjs-a'?tvk. 'hit, ne~d'h, nipi~nd'w inuh rnit'i'muh!' WeyAWekehk5k'h~seh sdtkitsi'pahtawin; im'9 kisj'hs8eI wdi'htsitauw ini'win s m~'hkawa'tesit. apithsu,,s-mitdi'muh tdh a'wiwin inuk ki2 -sehseh. 'hi2 thnuhud'hkAni'ahkiw, kAn s pi'htike'yan? pi'htike'nun uitdwd'nin sdwd?'nimi yak s wj'kimat niki'2s.' inii'win. tsi-pi'htiketua2, Cl'ta2, mitii'mnul ah tsiw-tsipithkit wind'mehkwAnan ~wi'pimi'nan mask~tsi'h8An m~'tim~'1hseh, 1kdft'ts-tsi$'hkit, Idi'2tsmi'tsihsitua2, ta'2. ki~s.~'hseh ani'win nisik kayitts-mj'tsik wina'mehkWAnan, misi'k tiIh wdipimi'nan maskiitsi'h8An; ini'winf kimvind'tktiket inuh mitdtmulh; wdhtsita'w ini'win as ivj'hki~tsikdt. dA, kisj'IhsAk aki'kulh ii's as minik,7nj'wik ayi'tua2 ma waw as nft'htahkua? as pi'tehki'wdt inuk apdihni'hseh, wvdhtsita' w ini'win -s dydiyii'inaw&'tua2 ini's kAn nik6'tuh as ne~tAkd'nit, misi'k teh m ii's as ki-pit6nik inih m~'tsim~'hseh. a'ta2, wd'wahtdt? inuk apdhni'hseh kiw-is~'kiwin as kiw —ya-y5'sinakut ani'nuh ki~stj'h8An. waydi'pah tsi-pa1hpg'sit inul& pdihni'hseh, ke~tsi'h payi'Atdit, ini'win as ndiw&'tsin ma't8-aydapa'WAn; iniwi'n kek s ne~na'tsin. pit8-k~d'wit 'we'htam~wdt'win &'hnAn. ke~ts-ind'itvi rndtsi'win, ndind'tsin apd'hsusun. iniwi'n keeh d'nan6'Ihkasit inuh apdhni,'hseh. hitw, aki'kuh ki?8j'h8Ak iniwvi'n kiw-d~ydy5'sinawdi'tva? ani'nuh, ap&Ihni'Ih,8An, ne2 -tAka'nit. nik~td's keh ay&,'wik, ini',win d'kut ani'nuh 6'hnAn misi'k uki'yAn, nah&d'w, niki'h, kAti's wd'pa1h kinaw-aw&' niw ~'h-ayum nuMd'hkAni'alhkiw i'nakah tsi-y6'h-piAt. kdih na'p jh-y5'm di'?tawah kinawawa't~n pi'tsiken; tsiw-akawa'tamuk nap ukdtski'AmAn ayu'm nuAd'hkAni'aIhkiw. nap misi'k nik6'tds kina-pi'AM'uAW.' ind' win uki'2sAn k-e~ts-ind'niw. 'hd'w,' jwd 'kin apdkni'hsek. wayd'pak, iniwvi'n-pih maydtsi'Atua? k&'2-iakak tsi-y6'h-piAt inuh nuhd'hk-,ni'Ahkiw. pli'pemitkhnetua2, nik~td's nd.'muakin md' tsuhksiyd'hkiu'. miy&' niw ini'win asi'At inuk mitd'muh. sa~yd'h payiAtd'tua2 inik md'ts-uksiyd'hkiw,, ii's wvdh-td'2tanapd'hkiwik, iniwi'n as nd'mik inuk apdkni'ksek as tawj'kik inih uksiyi'hklciw. pi'ktiketua2, nimd'2, md"ts-w~'kiwAm a wiwin. ke~ts-ind'niw siwasq apj'win; yii'hpits wli'piski win wa) wj'ne~nan; mis3i'k inuk w'e'yA 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 545 "Very well, my son; it is good that you are so fortunate," said the old woman in her turn. So on the next day the youth went off and hunted all day. In the evening he went to the place where he camped. He gathered wood, he built a fire; and again his wife came. So now they conversed and slept there again, and in the morning she went with him to his home. When they arrived, the youth entered the lodge. The old woman must have cleaned the house in anticipation, and made a good bed for her son, laying out the best mats. "Well, Mother, I am bringing that woman." The little old woman ran out; lo, the girl was really beautiful! A deer-woman was that girl. "Oh, Daughter-in-law, why don't you come in Come into the lodge! I give you thanks for having blessed us by marrying my son," she said to her. They entered, and the woman cooked; squash, corn, beans, meat; she cooked a big meal. They ate heartily; the young woman, too, ate heartily, but only squash and corn and beans; that was what that woman would eat; and now truly she was enjoying the taste of what she liked. When all the girls who dwelt in the town there heard that that youth was bringing home a wife, then they indeed kept laughing at him, because he never killed any game and yet was by way of bringing home that meat. But the young man remained indifferent when the girls laughed at him. On the next day, when he went hunting, he had gone but a short ways, when he saw a large stag; and of course he killed it. He came home and told his father of it. The old man went and fetched the deer. That was the way that young man did. But those girls kept aughing at the youth when he killed game. Then at one time his father and mother said to him, "Now, Son, suppose tomorrow you take this daughter-in-law of ours to the place from which she hails. These vegetables, such as we have, you will take along; our daughter-in-law's old people may be hankering for them. Later on sometime you will both come back." Thus spoke the old man to his son. "Very well," said the youth. On the next day they set out for whatever place it was that daughter-in-law came from. As they walked along, the youth at one time saw a large long ridge of land. The woman went straight toward it. When they reached that large long ridge, just where it rose abruptly from the level of the land, there the youth saw an opening in the ridge. They entered; lo, it was a large dwelling-place. There sat an old man; entirely white was his head of hair; and that little old woman, 35 546 ~i46Publications, Amnerican~ Ethnological Society Vol. XII w~kehk6'hseh wina'h ap ya'hpits w&'piski'win wj's8. ini'win tipa'h asu/alkam as api'tua2. hdi'w, imni'nalcah p6'hk~h as a'wslc, WCA y,, w&'2na'w a'wiwin inih wj'kiwAm. kawin Wt'yAn urnzwa'nan, tsiwd'yapitua2. d'ta2, ahsdma'win inuh apdhni'hseh.?ni'tsihsitua2., fla'8ikAs 'yapiwAkin. 8a~yd'h ndni'2takin&'Ikwah, h&'w, pis-pi'htikewin ni/cut intd'niw; nawj'na Misik niku't; niM&A2, us&'matin ind'niWAlk; yihpi't8 Mo's/cinet WAkin w~'Ncwaw. rnita'muh8Ak Misi'k ini'win-pih pit8-pi'Ihtilawane'titua2. h&'uw, nana'h-palkdt8 wdt'htsita kdi'2tin ini'win as Mndmj'hkawatesi'tua2. hdi'w, wani'tipd'hkah, inuh ke~t8-ind'niw aku'Atsih ini' win tna' - watuk inih uMj'tsiMiM, w&'pimi'nan Mashx5tsi'h8An wflnd'rneh/wAflaf pei'2tewan; mirn~ti'hsih yd'hpits mam5'8kine'WAnin. 'nahdi'w, y6'2 kdh niti'htawaw w~'kih; ini'2 aw-isi'makcah jh-,y6'm!' jw&,'hin inuh ke~t8-indi'niw, apa'hni'hseh 6'hnAn. imi' win as pi'rnakah ini's inuh w~'kNwa2 miti'muh 6'hnan wj'kih,,wani'tipd'Ihkah. mi'p wdni'tua2, wjyaw~Ikehkc6'hseh utJ'hkehkcyAnih 'wd'htsita'w sqikA'8 ni-w ind'8pa~teWA 'nin miniiti'h8An, WiyAkc tsi1kjs-pit&'watu~k, ini's ani'nuh utdi'htawd'wan w'Ckih, as mindi'tsin inih pi'tsikcen. h&'w, WjyAwelkehko'hseh payd'hkcinah inih min6'tih ni/cut, 8~w&'piminakc ya'hpit8 rn&'s8inewin inih wj'kcupa-'s8imut. Misi'kc ni/cut payd'hkcinah, windi'mchkuAnan pdi'2tewan y&'h&pits M6'8kine'win. h&'w, misi'kc ni/cut pdi'h/cunah inih minii'tih, maskfztsi'hsA/c yii'hpits Mo'8kcine'WAkcin. I&A, kets-ineni'w, kcisdwd'nihtakwu'sqi2! naweldt'h, tW~'napii'htah!' kcet8-ind'niw tsay~'?napa'Ihtah, 8~wd'piminan windi'rehkWAnan rnas/kotM'IhAn yai'hpits MaM6's8kine'wanin minulti'hsn. VhAh, wdwd'nin! wdiwd'nin kdh d'wiw, sdwd'nihtaku'sit /cit&'ninaw as wt~'kimatsin wa1hkitdi'hkcami/c6'wAn,' jwa'hin ke~t8-indi'niw. ha'w, ini'win-pih tsayjipi'hkit WtyAW~/kehk6'hseh. apd'hsusu/c tdih a'wiwAkin, ini's as wi'kitua2, 'rnamei'tsi~taw' tdh wi'nalh inii'pamewin inuh apdhni'Ihsel. iW~'tawan wj'nirnun wdht~ita'w usam'nukin. kayi'sisi'ahkcit inuh wj'yAwjkcehkc6'hseh, nimii'2, usa'matin; miYtsilh86'WAk. matsi'h/ciwi8 uhsj'mehsmn usdMi'nunin; Misi'/c matsi/cih/cwd'wis tsiw-a'wit uhsj'mehsn usiimi'nunin. rni'tihsi'tua?. h&'ta2, iniwi'n /ceI ndnuhui'h/apit apdlhni'hseh. ni/c~td's /ceI ni'w ayd'wikc, sa~ye'Ih ilhpih ta/cUAkc6'wi/c, ihpih winu,'a2 ap tsi-/ci-nati/ca'puwi'tua2 j'h-akcum ayadpd'WA/, iniwi'n-pih wdni'tipei'h/cah/in mii'wa niw kci-8d'kcitawantwWA'kcin w~'/cwa2, s i papii'm-nati/c&'puwitua2. sa~ydh cay&s-Wd'pahkcmn, ini'win-pih /ciPiIAtua?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 547 her head, too, was all white. They sat opposite across the dwelling. But in yonder direction, toward the far end of the dwelling, oh, of vast extent was the house! He saw no one, as they sat there. So then the youth was given food to eat; they ate their meal and sat together pleasantly. Then, as twilight was falling, there came into the lodge a man; soon afterward another; oh, there was a great number of men! They entirely filled that dwelling of theirs. Then some women, too, came into the lodge, one after another; in truth, splendid was their beauty. Then, after dark, that other old man took that food of his outside the house, Indian corn, beans, and dried squash, an entire sackful of each kind. "Now then, to the house of my son's father-in-law shall all this go!" said the old man, the father of the youth. So then it came to the house of that woman's father, in the night. When they arose in the morning, at the old woman's cooking place, truly, the sacks lay piled up; someone must have brought those vegetables there, to the house of those fellow-parents-in-law, as a gift to them. When the little old woman opened the first sack, entirely full of sweet-corn was that basswood-sack. When she opened the next, it was entirely full of dried squash. When she undid that other sack, it was entirely full of beans. "Why, Husband, we are indeed fortunate! Look at this and behold!" When the old man looked at the things, there were the sacks entirely full of sweet-corn, of squashes, of beans. "Oh, splendid, splendid it is, the way our daughter has brought good fortune upon herself by wedding a mortal of the upper earth'", said the old man. So then the little old woman went about her cooking. They were deer who dwelt there, but the youth saw them as human beings. Very many were his brothers-in-law and sistersin-law. When the old woman had finished her cooking, great was the number of those who ate there. Very many were the brothers of the oldest son in that family, very many the sisters of the oldest daughter, as they ate there. In this way, then, the youth stayed there with his wife's people. There came a time then, in the autumn, when these stags are in the habit of courting, when every night all of them would file out of the house to go about their courtship. Not until after daybreak would they return. Literally: "An animate being of the surface of the earth." The deer are underground creatures and, it appears, immortal, not really dying when killed by a hunter. 35* 548 548Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII hu'w, nilco'td8 iniwin di'kut ani'nuh We'WAn: 'hd'w,. ne~ne'I& pas 1kipa'pam-witsi'waw,' ilku'alhin ani'nulh wj'wan. wdni'tipd'hkah inu'h td~h yd'/hpit8 uhs#Z'mimaw tsiw-d'wit,-s'? nawi'IhkUSiWA'nin ani'nuh uts#~pata'lkanan. - ani' wvin lkaydki'2tina''nalha'w, ni~ta'w, Mh-akcu'm nits~pata'kanakc papfi'm-aw~n,' iku,'a/kin. Iha'w, in/i'niw utii'hpinewin ani'nuh ts8ZP'ata'kanan, as tsij'patakdt we~'nih; md'?, nanii'h-pakii'ts! sa-'kit6i'hnewAlcin. inulh tdh sad'2na-,wd'Ihkiwindw ini'win isj'lkiw ayd'wit inuh apdhni'hseh; apd'hsws niw a wiwin s s&'kit6'linet wi'nalh ap, witsiw&'tsin wj'2tawan. nimd'2, imi's lkutd'?nas wd'htsita'w si ydi'pits taniwd'katin, &y61&6'pitua2, dydyd'nitua2, ldkli'kititua2. 'ha'w, ini's, ni~ta'w, kAts kitd'.sia2.!' ileu'ahin ani'nuh wY'?tawan payiAta'Wipa'Ibtukua2, usdmi'nukin ina'niwAlk; misi'lc ritd'muh nd'wi yaw ini'win as n~'puwit; ani'wa'nin tdh kdt'taw-mahkdi'htitua9? aki'kulh ina'niwAk. Ihd'w, payiAtdi'tua2, ndin~'puwi'tua2, dydyd'nitua2, wdhtsita'w ini'win as und'nikwalh ay6'siwd'pine'titua2. nil6'tds yt3'win-pih niw pis-tasi'ahkatitua2 alci'cul rnelc'towAlk. 'hdc'w, hd'w, ni~ta'w, pina'h mikd'hkinun; kina-malldi'hta2 iphinuh mitd'muh, W~spin nani'nawi'hiwe' yan,' ind'win ani'nuh wj'2 -tawan. hId'w, ini'win-pil& mayikdi'hkit inuh apdhni'hseh. wd'htsita, kd'2tin si kiw-asiwd'pahewin ani'nuh w~'2tawan; ma wa niw miAno'wihe'wvin as m~Icdnd'tsin. hd'w, nilk~td's, ini'win md'waw as d'mahatsin inulh apdhni'1&seh. hd'w, ini'win kdhA as mdydt'wis3itua2 ani'nuh mita'MUlhSAn. ta'2, iniwi'n kdJh as wj'kima'tsin inuh apdl~ni'hseh ani'nuh mitd'muh5An kay~s-mahkdi'htatua2. wdlhtsita'w lki'Ihki~ta'wanin ani'nuh wZ'2tawan pdlhni'hseh. hat'w, nik5'tds ini'win-pih misi'k mayd'wat8 -pi'Atua2 alki'luh ina'niWAk. 'nalhd', ni~ta'w, pina'h IkAts kipd'minesil&#'naw ~'h-ayu~m mitd'mulh; kina-paydno'nawAk; kikdi'2t8-miAndtsi'aIhkaku,'nawAlk ~'h-akcum ina'niwAk,' iku,'ahin w~'2tawan. ini'win-pilh layd'Ihtine'silhatsin ani'nuh mitci'mUhsAnb inuh apdhni'1hsel. hd Ata2, pmim-wdpj'win inuh mitd'muh; nimd'2, wdhtsita kd'2tin ini'win s lcd~ts-wdpi'tua2, papd'minesiha'tva2 ani'nuh mild'muIhsn. aIhk6'2sik md'waw ini'win s wane-'pah~nd'tua2 ani'nuh ind'niWAn; awZ'h-i'sehlkawd'win inuh pdlhni'Ihseh ani'nvh mitd'muh8An. hdi'ta2, ini'win lech s iiyi'tua2. sa~yd'Jh payd'tskina'lcwah as wd'pak, iniwi'n-pih Icayjwd'pahtulkua2; inih tdh wj'k~waw pi'htike'palhtawa'kin ind'niwAlk mitd'muhsAlk. wd'htsita Idi'2tin min'win as und' - Wikwah, dydyd'nitva2 papa'm —miAna'tsi~tatua2. iniwi'n Icdh Wmnnii'hlkasitua2 takhnd'nuh nd'hkah. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 549 Then once his wife said to him, "You ought to go about with my older brother," she told him. "Yes," said the youth. When night came, he who was the youngest of them all, of two prongs were his antlers, and these he took off. "There, Brother-in-law, use these antlers of mine as you go about," he said to him. So the man accepted those antlers and put them as a headgear upon his head; lo, splendid! They filed out of the house. One of those young stags with horns of a single fork was the youth; a deer was he as he went out, accompanying his brothers-in-law. Oh, but in a place somewhere over yonder, great was the din as they whooped and laughed and talked. "Come, Brother-in-law, let us go over there!" the youth was told by his brother-in-law, and off they were, at a run. When they had run all the way, there was a great crowd of men, and in their midst stood a woman; she it was whom these men were trying to take from one another. When they arrived, they stood about there, laughing; truly, it was glorious, the way they flung one another back, now this one, now that. At one time the contestants came as close up as this, as they grappled. "Come, come, Brother-in-law, come join in the fight; we shall take away this woman, if you are victorious," he said to his brotherin-law. So then that youth joined in the fighting. Truly, he simply kept flinging back with his horns those brothers-in-law of his; he found it easy to deal with them as he fought them. Finally the youth had thrust them all aside. So now they had this woman at their disposal. "There, Brother-in-law, take her," the other would say to him. So then the youth would take for his own that woman they had seized from the others. Truly, fleet of foot were those brothersin-law of the youth. Then finally all those men in a crowd would come up. "Come, Brother-in-law, let us drive on this woman; we shall leave them behind; these fellows are bothering us too much," said his brother-in-law to him. Then the youth drove the woman ahead. Off and away ran the woman; truly, fast did they run then, as they chased that woman about. Finally, when they had lost all those men in the race, the youth ran to head off that woman. So there they stayed, then. When the light was already clear, at dawn, they ran home; into that house of theirs they came running, men and women; it was truly glorious, how they all laughed and frisked about. That was the way they did every night. 550 550Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nilko'tas as &'wikI, ini'win as k&~-taftd'pane'mitua2; ini'win tek niw ku~tdi'nas sasdki'yuh as lces-sa's8ehlce'hsihkua2. hcdAta2,. Z'h-akum marna'tsi~tawak as pahp~'situa2. siwas ki-pim6'hnewin inuh nikut marna'tsitaul. 'hahd'w, inqvm-e' 2 nikvt m am&'ts3i~tauw; kiA8'hill: kina-ni 'AI*,unaw,' kiw-jwd'kin. hd', ki-kiAs5hd'wAkin; h&', ki-pirn6'hnewin inuh mam&'tsi~taw; kawi'n uvci-ni'Akunuwa'wan pahpZ'sinit. FtAta?, iniwi'n keh ki'sih di'hkwah 8disehki'Asihlua2 apdhni'hseh. sayid'h nd'hkaIh sa~ydh1 rnisi'k pimiwdi'katin. hdA wdihtsita'w ini'wvin kiw-,und'nikwah, tsiw-ind'wimitua2, pim~'nisihdi'tua?. payi&Atdi'tua2, hd7'q, ini'win keh misi'k as ki-tan&'hkamikah. walhtsita'?v ini' win sMriAno'wihatsin apdihni'hseh aninuh aydip.d'wAn. ha~', m~'p ayd~'wik, k, ~Wd'W Akin. mi"i? kd~h as p&'nahlkami'lkah. howu' ini'win WMt inuh ke~ts3-indi'niw: 'nahd'w, nita'h, kAtd's kinakVTi'wvm; kinaw-isi'AM ivdh-pfiydk-; wvitsi'win nuh~i'h, ind'win k-e~tsCtAta2, wayd'pah ewa,'wAlcin. ini's d'hpit8-i'tua?. ini'win sVs hit apdhni'hseh, as uki'2sit i'nuh apdhni'hseh; apdhIni'hs8An tdh a 'wiwA'nfin uki"?sMn. hd'ta2, may(7tsyA'tua, mitdi'muh uflitsi'Aflehs~n ini-nay~mui'win. payiAta't~ua2 5'hnAn wiv'kih inuh apdhni'hseh,. wayii'pah pah~p~'siwin; wdlhtsita'w ini'win ahpd'n niwl s ne~takdi't inuh apiihni'1hseh; 1&a'u', inuh aPdh~ni'Iseh irni's-nakalh ki-y6'h-piAt, ini'win as ki-wjh-MAnd'hnetua2 k~sZ'IhSAk. payi'Atsin inuh apdhni'hseh, iniwvi'n keh s ki-MiAnatsi'ahkakut ani'nuh kiSi~'hsn. 7A ta2, kawi'n uki-pimdi'nimanan. CtA, ahlk6'2sik alku'atsih ini'win as ki-pits-tasi'kitua2 aki'kulh kiPsj'hsAk, kAtd'-pits-kj'kitutd?'kut inuh apdhni'hsel& ani'nu~h ki~s~'hsAn. kawi'n uki-pimdi'nimanaii. ta'9, kj8-8~'hkanik; md'wa niwv k8-rniAsindi'2nik; jnj'2 wvd'h tdh as st,'hkanatsin. haAta?, jndA ts-uki?5Afl 8a? yd.'h a'WiVA'nin; sa~ydi'h, acu 'atsih ini'win as kci-papd'rn-riAndi'tsi~tat inuh apdhni'hseh. ni/c5ta's as pahpZ' sit inuh pdhni'hseh, payi'At. ini'win 8 pitsndw&'tsin ni/cut 1ki~sj'hSAn s d'yahk/und'hu/cut. pyA'tal. MO~'2, Wdihtsita 'w ini'w'in as rninu'apuma'tsin inuh apdhni'hseh ani'nuh kP~s'ISAn. iniwi' n /ceh s kcdki'kitutdi'titua2 d'yapitua2. h&I'ta2, nei'sikcas /cjwd'win, sa~ydi'h nd,'hkah, ya'1hpits pi'ta~sit mj'tsim~'hseh. waya'pah mnisi'kc pahpj'sit, ndi'hkah payi'At, ini'wvin rnisi'k s pisndwdi'tsin ani'nul&; wti'htsitawv tsi-minu'apumatsin apthni'hseh. ta"?, ini'win kd~h?nisi'/c as di'yapitua'? as /ckdk/citut&I'titua2; wdi'ki2, ini'win s tasZ'h-w~'/ciratsin ani'nuh /ci~sj'h8An inul& apdhni'hseh. piwin inuh mitd'muh nuhii'hkcAni'Ahkciw; kawin p6's ukc6'kit~tawa'nan utd'nini'Aman. &A ta?, iniwi'n keh ii'n~w as kAtdw-/cWkitutawa'tsim apa~hni'hseh w~'wan, tipdlh d'hkcwah nehkc6'si~takin; /cawi'n mmn 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 551 On one occasion they were overtaken by daylight; then they lay still somewhere in the brush. One of those human men who were on the hunt, came walking along. "Now, there is a man! Hide; he will see us!" they would say. Then they would hide. The man would walk along, but he would not see them, as he hunted. Well, all day long the youth and the others lay there. When evening came, the noise again traveled along. It was glorious, truly, as they wan and chased each other. When they arrived, things would start up again. Indeed, the youth had easy play with those stags. With early morning they went home; that was the end of affairs. Then that old man said, "Now, Daughter, it is time for you to return home. You will go whence you both came. Go with my sonin-law," said the old man to his daughter. So on the next day they went back. While they were there, a boy had been born, so that now that youth had a son, a boy it was, a son. So when they set out, the woman carried her child along on her back. When they reached the lodge of the youth's father, then on the next day he went hunting. And now, truly, that youth always killed game. There was great plenty of meat as they dwelt there. Now in yonder direction whence the youth would come as he returned, the young girls used to go off to gather firewood. Whenever the youth came, those girls would pester him. He used to pay no attention to them. Finally those girls would come and carry on right outside the house, wanting to talk to that young man. He took no notice of them. For since they had all despised him and made fun of him, he now hated them. Now, by this time his son was a big boy, playing about here and there out of doors. Once, when that young man was hunting, on his way home he saw a young lass who was lying in wait for him. When he came to where she was, that youth indeed was pleased with the looks of that girl. So then they talked together, resting a while. He came home as if nothing had happened, after dark, bringing a big load of meat from his hunt. On the next day, as he hunted again, coming home in the evening, again he saw her on his way; truly the youth found her fair. So now again they sat together conversing, and, as is the way of things, that youth there made the girl his own. He went home; when, well after dark, he reached their lodge, the woman, the daughter-in-law of the house, sat turned away; she did not even speak to her husband. Although the youth tried to speak to his wife, all night she was angry at him; neither did 552 552Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ni'w uwj'1hpemi'1kunan. wayd'pah m~'p pmim-uqi,'Otawin inuh mitd'muk, unittiAnehsehs~n kay&s-nayd'hit, pmim-matsi'win, sii'kit6'hnet s ke-'wit. 1uow, inuh tdh inci'niw apahni'hseh uti'h iniw-i'n niw a's s kd~t8-pim5'hnet; h~tnuw s kAtd'w-atdmdi'tsin, Icawi'n utii'tema'nan apdihnihseh. skas ni'w ihpih payiAtd'tua2, ini'win-pih kaydhtsi'2net inuh mita'muh. skas ni'w ihpilh imi's payiAtdi'wipd'htukc, ini'win as paketoma'tsin ani'nuh Uki'2sAn inuh mitdi'muhb, ndinZ'puwitua2. hd'w, ay6' tdih apdhni'hseh, sa~yei'h 8aka'nah inimn-piAtd'wipii'htuk- as n~'puwinit ani'nuh wj'wan, kAniwi'n kal& niw apd'hsus ini's wdhkahtsi'2net, ini-wdi'pit; ma"?, wina'h ap inuh apahni'hseh lcit&Ica'hseh tdlh d'wiwin, wina'h ap andi'mipd'htuk. ii'ta2, ind'niw uti'h ini'win as ini-talhpd'htulc. payiA'tdWipd'htukua'? in i/ uhs3iyd'hkciw w~'kwaw, ini'win as ini-pi'htikepahftf'kua2 mnuh mita'muh misik uki'?8An. ha/b tayd'h, ta?, inuh apdhni'/bse/ wa'/btsitaw d'nuw ini'win s k6'2ts3 -w4'pit; payiAta'Wipa'/btuk inih uhs8iyd'hkiw, ini'win as kipd'hbkuskak inih isku'a/btem; kawin p5'ts nd'kwAtun ini's s isku'ahtemi'wik. d~ta2, ini'win kdi/ s tatanati'mit mu/b pdh/ni'hbse/b sku'a/btemih. M'f ini'win nAWd'/b kdh nik~td's kdh kjwi 'win,. payi'Atat wZ'k~wa2, 'd'ni2 td/b nu/b&'/kAni'abkiw?'v liku'ahin h6'hnAn. 'h&'w, nuhndi'2, kjs-k~wdi'w! mni"? s pakt~sit. nikis-isi'Ami ii's as wi'kitua2; kAn nik&s-pa'hkinamdi'kunan min/ sku'a/btem,' inei'win 6'hnan. '/b&'w, apa'hpenisiWA'k- kcaI ct'sitayAn, niki'h! kikd'timahaw n5'hsi/bseh, kAn nik6'tuh misi'k- as a-ni'wakihb. ind'win uki'2sMn. hMAta2, way&'pah &'nu, kdh misi'k kci-pahp~'s3iwin apdihni'hbseh; wu4'ki2 ta/h a-ne"?tuk? kawin kd'k6/b uki-pit6nan. nik~td's as pahpj's8it, ay6' winah mitii'muhb iniwi'n-pih mind"?, umdnd"?tami/b ini'win as awjh/-8d',sehbkj'hsihb inuh mitd'muh. hd'w, sa'?yd'h kd'?tsi'h pis-tii'nit, ini'win-pih nayeZ'puwinisihd'tsin ani'nuh uki"?sMn. 'nahd', niki'h, k6'hndi? mnum-c"? payi'tuhnet; ni'pi'?tah as a-pimi'mmni'tsihsi yen. p~n wi'nah ts'?napu'min Jc3'/ne'?,' ind'win uki"?sAn mitd'muh. ta"?, kitdkii'hse/b iniwi'n-pih nayi'pi'?txt, pmim-mi'tsihsit. hri'w, ayum ind'niw, kAniwi'n k-e/ niw ume'hpihb niw pd'hsusJ-'hsAn pd'miini'win sa'?yd'h as kAt/iw-pimu'atsqin. ini'win-pi/b nayj'puwi'pahtuk inuh mitd'muh. CSdAh sdAh, ay6"? kAni'w mi"i? sa~ydh as wanj'ndt, -uki"?sAn as kAtd'w-ne'?na'tsin!' Md"?, w~'w~n si'was nZ'puwZ'wanin. ind'niw ini'win niw a'hfpakind'tsin umd"?tikwAn, nd'tinetuanii'tsin. V/bA y, WeyAwjkd'h, nikjwd'tsi~tam; kAn nikd'hkinaw&'nan niki"?s winah as ts3iw-d'wi't!' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 553 she sleep with him. Early the next morning that woman set about and got ready; taking her child on her back, she started off, leaving the house to go home. Then that young man kept behind her, as she went on, pursuing his wife, Then fast indeed walked that woman; much as the youth tried to catch up with her, he did not overtake her. When they had come a ways, the woman broke into a run; when she had run a certain distance, the woman set down her son from her back and the two stood there. But when the youth had run almost to the place where stood his wife, suddenly it was a deer that started from there and galloped along, and, lo, the little boy, too, a fawn was he as he ran yon way. Then the man kept running along there, behind them. When they had run all the way to that stony ridge where they dwelt, they ran inside, that woman and her son. Alas, that youth, hard as he ran, when he reached the stony ridge, the door went shut; there was not even a trace where the entrance had been. So then the youth stayed weeping there at the door. At last, after a long time, he went home. When he reached the house, "Where is our daughter-in-law?" his father asked him. "Oh, Father, she has gone back to her home; she has left me now. I have been where they dwell; she did not open her door to me," said he to his father. "Oh, desperately have you done by yourself, my son! You have brought misfortune upon my grandchild, whom we shall never see again," he told his son. When day came, to be sure, the youth used to go hunting, but, of course, he killed not a thing. Nothing would he bring home. Once, when he was hunting, that same woman, on ahead there in front of him, was where she went and lay. He had already come quite near her, when she roused up her son. "Up, Son; there comes your father; get up and go about as you graze, and do not look at your father," said the woman to her son. So then the fawn stood up and went about grazing. And the man, when now suddenly a fawn was grazing there, so close by, he crept up to it, and had got quite near it and was about to shoot it, when that woman leapt up. "For shame, for shame! Look at the man; so far has he gone in his madness that now he intends to kill his son!" Lo, it was his wife standing there! At once the man threw down his bow and ran toward her. "Wife, Wife, I was not doing it on purpose; I did not know it was my son!" 554 554 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII ice 2tsi'& sa~ye'h ini-t&'t, miti'muh iniwi'n-pih lcayiihtsi'2net. kay*js-ispii'n~wd1'2tat, pa'Ibpisiw ini'm-wa'2sitsehlce8owin, tsi'Ahkanawd'pahtulc as 1cjwa'paIhtuk. ini'2 lcah ayd'tskcuAt s lces-nawa'tsin wj'wan. 116. A BOY IS BLESSED BY MOSQUITOS AND BY A HAIRY SERPENT. (MAslcwawd'nahkWAt~lc) wj'kciuAkin mama'ts3i~tawAlc, ni/cut wj'IkiwAmt as a-'wik, mitd'muh, ind'niw, unitsi'Aneh8owa'wan, ni/cut ukci's~wawan. ini? s nipd'kc inul& indi'niw. ini'?-pih kaya'nisiWAn lcay&s-MAMa'tsin mitd'muh. ini?-pil& kayis-sWhkcanatsin anuk apdIhni'hsAn inuh inei'niw. 1cikicnu'awdw umdi'tm6'Iseman IcAn s aw-ahsimdi'tsin anu/& unitsi'AnehsAn, misic IcAn usi'htuwatsin umdi'hkcesinan. ki-pa'pAkamaW Wej'WAfl as usi'htuwatsin vmdi'hkcesinan unitsi'Anehs~n. nal&&'w, ini'2-pi&, 'naha'w, ninaw-a'wjh-pahp*'siminaw mu' wa niw u'htahsj' yah; m6'sah indi'niwVA/ ninaw-awjh-nip&'minaw. ninawawii'nuw ~'hayum MAts'2-apahni'hseh2' indi'w upu'Anima'hsAn. kcayjs-/cusi'tua?, WA ya/pah, ini2-pih kcayj's-ne?natua? apii'h8usun Mdi'?Sih. kay&s-akcitii'ku~a? inih mitsimi'hseh, 'nahii'w. nanu'?tinikce'nun, IcAn utsi'uwAk s a-w~'nihtukcua2,' inei'w upu'Anima'IhsAn; 'pi~n tehk wi'nah kcu'1c6A pAts~ci'nah s a-m~'san. ki'spin kdi'Ich patskci'naman as am~'san, nina-/ce1&kj'niin; kina-1ed'2ts9-pdi'pAkcamin. pdi'ts/ci~ta'h mu'wva niw s a-p6'tawataman yom Mits8imj'1&eI&.' ini?-pih w9'nin5'hseh rnu'nawats tsi-pats/ci'nah as nv'tsikc inuh apih~ni'1&seh; ta?, pu'AWi~taw; sika'nah mitii'tahnu'lcun /cAn kd'lc6h umi'tsinan. payi'Atua? a/ci'kuh pahpej'siwA/c, ini?-pih pis3-pimii'1tuk inih m~'tsimj'hseh; ini? as nu'mik mdi'nawats as /cis-patski'nah inih w~nin'hseh. ini2-pih me~ti'lk 4'wih-lci'skahah as k4'?ts-pupA/cama'tsin upu'Anima'hsMn. nahuw, kayjs-teh-ne~na'tsin, msjwui' niw meh/c6'wiw inuh apihni'hseh 8kce'hsi/cuh. ini2-pil& teA ma//atsyA'tua2, is/c5'tdw ma'waw as d'2tahd1'h/cva?, mdi'wa niw mitsimg'hseh s awiitft/kua?. jni? as pa/cj'nih inuh apdhni'Ihseh. sa?y'i'h n'i'hkaIh ini?-pih payii'I&/awa'tesit. IcAn /cd'kceh 8kc6'ttiu: md~' /cjs-awa'tsi/cAtaw mitsgimi'hseh; k/c,,n /cd'/~h umi'tsinan. 'nah&t'w, na-'s kAt. /cAt nind'pim; kufti'2nas3 n6'hpimih kAt flita'SiAM (is aw-awej'h-taIhpdnd'yan; p6'ts niw- nika'te-nipdim.' as mii'l-pdpim6'hnet, ini'win salcma'WAn salka'nah as ne?ni'/cut. niku't nisik a'wiw upd'pa/UW~yan p5'2seIhlah; yii'h pits p~'/cuskaw. 'nahd'w, Zwd'h; '/cit&'hsaminine'MUAw nj'yaw y6's niw s a-ne'?sgiydk/,' jwii'hin as seh/chksih, y&'m as is~'hsih, s a-tdpini'tua?, s a-pits-mitsihsi'tua? sa/cma'WA/c sa?ye'h usa'matin, sa/ca'nah as Icaw&'mikut; ini'win-pilh payi'At md'ts-sakcjmd'w. 1Gesture: arms extended to sides, head thrown back. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 555 He was close upon his wife, when she started into a run, lifting her tail. And so off she went, showing a white patch on her buttock as she ran with lifted tail, running for home. And that was the last time he ever saw his wife. 116. A BOY IS BLESSED BY MOSQUITOS AND BY A HAIRY SERPENT. (Maskwawanahkwatok) There dwelt some people, a family, a woman, a man, and their child, a son. Then that man died. Then the woman took another husband. Then that man conceived a hatred of that boy. He used to forbid his wife to give her child anything to eat or to make moccasins for him. He would beat his wife when she made moccasins for her child. Then, "Well, we shall go off hunting all of us, as many as we are; the men only, we shall go camping. I shall take along this brat here," he said of his stepchild. When they had gone to their camp, on the next day, they killed many deer. After they had hung up the meat, "Well now, keep making smoke, so that the flies do not dirty it," he told his stepson; "but be sure you do not break off any to eat. If you take off any and eat it, I shall find it out; I shall give you a good beating. Be careful to keep a fire under all of this meat." Then that boy must have broken off a small piece of fat meat and eaten it; he was hungry; for almost ten days he had had nothing to eat. When those hunters came back, the man came and inspected the meat; then he saw that the boy had broken off a little of that fat meat. Then he went and cut a rod and gave his stepchild a hard beating. When he had done punishing him, the boy's face was all covered with blood. Then they went away, putting out all the fire and taking along all the meat. So now the boy was abandoned. It was evening when he returned to his senses. There was no fire; the meat had all been taken away; he had nothing to eat. "Well then, I may as well die; let me go to the upland forest somewhere and there perish; in any case I shall die." As he walked on, he was nearly killed by mosquitos. He had on only a shirt, and it was all torn. "Very well," said he; "I give you my body to eat; you may kill me right here," he said, and lay down at full length, lying like this, that the mosquitos might have their fill, eating at their convenience. They had very, very nearly bitten him to death, when the Great Mosquito came. lr 556 556 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'ta? a'nalhkamikah kAn Ica'lkh tsi-Ic8-sawdi'nihtamdk? LcAn-d'2 kisdwd' nimanu'wawan, 1hd'nuw icek kitW/hsami'kuAW We' YAW? ke'sd~ts teh uwi'nah sa?vdt'nimd'hkun, kd'k~h s aw-ind'nimek.' 'nah&'uw,' &wJ'hin inuh salc'mawl, "tsW nap saka'nah WiyAkc nipdt'k, kinaw-indini'hdiw. ini'? ni'nah iind'nimi'nan,' juld'hin inuh 8akj'maw. saydih misi'k nikut: 'ini'? nina'h nap ainc'nimak: kAn nik6'tuh kina-ki'nunehi'nan kimi'tSihswAn; ni? dnd'niminan.' nahed'w, ini'win-pih mayd'tiA-t apdhni'hs3eh. as md'k-pa-pim6'hnet, a?si'kan iniwin as ndi'mik; kawin upaimad'nilhtanan. ini'win-pih misi'lk mayii'tsiAt; as md-k-jiipem5'hnet, kAni'win pi'pim-sapU'a?nilc. payi'Atat, rnd'ts-nipe-'hseh &'wiwin. sa?yad'h saka'nah pa yi'At at ini's nipt'lbih, ini'win s ndiwa'tsin ma'ts-ayapa'WAn apd'Ihsunun tsikj'.s-nipdk. iniwin-pih mdi'hkawe'nihtah ini'h a?si'kan. ini'win-pil ay&'h-WAs8Ut as nii'tik a'?sikan. kay~s-pi't~k inih a?sWkan, ini?-pih we naniha'tsin api'Ihsusu'n s maimi'tsihsit. nik~tdi's aydi'wik, uma'nakah ana'pit, ini'win as ndiw&'tsin rne?tikWAn kUs-ki'?tsitsipeIhk4'?sit. inaJ'pume'win; iniwin-pih W'SW~ nipi'hilh; ini'win as aki'Ibtsih inuh me'?tik. nah&'w, payi'Atiit, mi'?siki'ni pikP &'ivw;v md'ts-awdi'tuk a 'wiw; mamdi'h-wZ'winanI. 'naha'w, nuhsi'h! nine'? dind'nimi'nan Z'h-y,&s s a-pi'yen; nine'? may~'ninan inih a?s~'kan; nine'? mayZ'ninan inuh apd'hsu-s as a-mi'tsi hsiyen. nahii'w, nuhsi'h,' Jwdi'hin inuh awdi'tuk, 'wiki'I& aweh-ts8j'hsinah; ni's kina-pit6nan.' ini'win-pih d'wih-ts'hsinah inuh ap4Ihni'hseh. kayjs-pi't~k ani'nuh wiki'hsAn, 'nahd&W. nuhsi'h, itMA'5 patsi'slcahi'na?; mnis a?t6'h inih wi'kih.' hti'w, y6'? as a'?tuk wi'kil&; ini'?-pih pd'tsiskah&'tsin umd'hsum&'hiku'ahin. ini? teh misi'k s kjs-kid'skaIha'ts8in. 'nah&'w, ini'?, nu1hsZ'h!' iku'ahin; 'k.,%n niko'tuh kinaw-pu'awi'?tanan; PAn nik6'tuh kina-ki'nunAnan a-pPsei'hkaman. ini'? eina'nimi'nan. k~s-md'?tinaman j'h-yo-m may~'ninan, misik nik6'tuh PAti'w-nei'wiyen, kina-ndi'wim.' itni'-nikuh 1i'kut umd-'hsumi'h8An.. nakii'w, ini'?-pih kayjs-nay5'htah ani'nuh wiki'hsAn as Ma'tsiAt. Put&'?nas payi'Atdt, ini'? as nai'mik ma"ts-wAtsjw; kAni'wi'n ws' yAk a'ItAnitah as mono 'pi. ka'itsih payi'Atat, yo witn a nikenit apihni'Iseh; -wAIhPita'IbiaIh teh i1nih ma'ts-wAtse-'w as n~'pwit apxilni'hseh. ini'? telh s nfil'simi'palhtuk; imi? telh s pi'Itike'palhtuk inik WAt9 I'W. kayis-pi'htike't, ini?-pih misi'k niku't pis-m3'Asimi'pahtuk. 1Gesture: hands held at sides of head in imitation of horns. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 557 "What is the matter, that you take no pity on anything? Do you really take no pity on him, even though he has given you his own body to eat? Give him your blessing at once; wish something for him." "Well now," said one mosquito; "even though someone be nearly dead, you shall cure him. That is what I wish you," said that mosquito. Then another, "And this is what I wish him: Never shall you look in vain for your sustenance; that is what I wish you." Then the boy went from there. On his way he saw a knife; he paid no attention to it. He kept on; on his way suddenly something shone through between the trees. When he reached it, it was a big lake. He had almost reached the water, when he saw a large dead stag. Then he thought of that knife. He went back and fetched the knife. When he had brought it there, he skinned and cut up the stag and ate much. Then at one time, as he looked that way, he saw a tree that had been uprooted by the wind. He looked at it; then he went to the water; there in the water lay that tree. When he got to it, it was a Hairy Serpent; a great Spirit-Being it was, with large horns. "It is well, Grandchild! I have wished it for you that you should come to this place; it is I who have given you that knife; it is I have given you that stag, that you might eat. It is well, Grandchild," said that Spirit; "Go peel some birchbark; two pieces you will bring." Then that boy went and peeled it. When he had brought the pieces of birchbark; "Now then, Grandchild, jab me here, and place that birchbark there." So then he put that birchbark there; then he jabbed his grandfather. The blood came simply pouring forth. "There, that will do!" he said to him; "Now then, scrape me here, on my buttock," he told him. So then he also scraped him. "Very well, that will do, Grandchild!" he said to him; "Never shall you go hungry; never shall you lack things to wear. That is what I bestow upon you. When you have used up this which I now give you, and want to have sight of me again, you shall have sight of me." So much his grandfather said to him. Thereupon he took on his back those pieces of birchbark, and set out. When he came to a certain place, there he saw a large hill; suddenly someone made a noise there of whooping. When he came near, there was a boy as tall as this; on the summit of that big hill stood the boy. Then he ran down the slope and then into the inside of the hill. When he had run inside, another came running down the slope. 558 558Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII naha'w, minO teh s ni'puwitua2; ani'nuh mamd'ts80taw-apdhni'h8Afl ii'? 3 kcakc'1kitutawa'tua?: 'naMd'w, ni?a't, nine'? dnd'niminan z'h-yos8 s a-pi' yen. ni'wukun kminaw-MiAna'tsi2ta?.' nahid'w, ini? teh s /cjs-pi'htikepa1&tu'/cua? inih ma't58-wAt8JW; wahkcitii'hkiah ini'? /ciw-ind'sihutitua?. paydi'kcwAts awa'tu/c-apahn~'h8Akc a'wiWA/c ani'nuh naydiw&'tsin. nah&'w, sa?ye'h nayi'w-pip65'na/cah, 'naha'w, ni?a't, kAtd'8 /ewd' - nun; umdi'? niw /ce?tsi'h /ci/c'yah as w~'/cit. mit&'tahnukcun kAn kinandwa-'nan /ci/c'yah. m6'sah payi'nisitua? a~hn'hsA/c /cina-pimdi'ni/cu/c,' /ct's-i/cuah ani'nuh awdi'tu~k-apdIhni'hsAn; 'pa yi'nisitua? pdbn'hsA/c ni'w kina-pimdi'ni/cu/; as pinal&/a'mi/cah ap&'h/ciwi'/din ini? as aw-usi'htu/cua a/cuh apdhni'IsA/c. mni'? teh lkinah as awi'yen; metii'tahnu/cun icAn ni/c6'tuh /ci/ci'yah /cina-nawii'nan, mikti'MUl&SA/c mi'n niw.' naha'w, metii'tah ni/cut in~' tahn5'/cun aya'wi/c, ini?-pih /cayjspis-ni'A/cut uki'yAn; me'i'aw mitd'mulh8Al Ices-pi8-ndwd'WA/c anuh apdhni'hsAn. mitdVmuhSAn m&'waw nayi'A/cut, ilni'win-pih kay~s-,w~'?sa/cesit as pa?siydi'pumikut. aya-'ts-ndi'wah/ci/c kc&-ni~pu'ahin. lke?ts-i nd'niwA/c /c8-Md'watsj'hzsinu/cin. tal&; kAt /cits#jp&'h/cun5'naw; kdi'/ch way~'s/ciwah /cAt kcim~nv3'naw s a-/cuts'munakcih wd'ki? tsiw-a'wi/c inih ntiy6'tah.' ini?-pih ds-tanii'h/cua? md'waw Id'Ic6h way~'s/ciwah d'wihl-minii'tua a/cuh /ce?ts-i nd'ni WA/c Aninuh apdhini'hs~n. 'nalha'w, nuhsi'h, wd'/ci? inih ndy6'lhtaman? /ci/c3'simunine'minaw.' 'nahd'w, nimehs6'?, ninaw-a'tsimim. nipi'hih-mdt8-awa'tu/c nikcZsndi'wdw; mnu'? teh kayis-mi'sit Z'h-yo-m na~y6'ktaman; /cAn nilc6'tuh as aw-/ci'nune'ha/c MAnd't~w ni/ci's-i/cuah; "/cAn niko6'tuh kinaw/ci'nu~na'nan /cip6'?s8ehka/canan," nilj'8-i/cuah. y6'? teh ayd'wi/c yo-m pdm5'htaman.' - nalud'w, ini'?-pih& /ay~s-pehk/c'nah inih wi/ciA; usd-'namun a wt'win. 'y&'? /cdh ini'h,' ~wdi'hin, 'a-/cm-pimi'Atawan s a-/c-pahp~'si yen:' nahM'w, ini?-pih misi'/c ni/cut /cayj~s-peA/c&'nah inih wi/ciA. 'y6'? teA, nu'hsiA, ninaA a'p s a-kew-ahs&'miyan; yo6'? a-/cjwawd'yan. we'yA/c is~'/ciwA/c /inaw-peV'seA/caw&'WA/c, /c~t8-pimd'tes8iw as a-/ciw-rnd'8eh/cawat," ' indi'win anuh /ce?ts-indi'niwAn. ini?-pih teh /cay&s-mdm~nd'tsin s a-kiw-Wk/ua? s a-ntdwi'?tatua? misik as a-nis&Vnisitua?. ini? md'waw. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 559 So there they stood; and then they spoke to that human boy: "It is well, friend; I wished you this, that you were to come here. We shall play together for four days." So then they ran all the way into the inside of that great hill; to the surface of the earth they would pursue one another. Spirityouths they were, in fact, those whom he saw there. Then, after four years, "Now then, friend, it is time, go home; over here, right close by is where your mother dwells. For ten days you must not see your mother. Only four pure boys must attend you," said those spirit-youths to him; "Four pure boys must attend you; where the ground is undefiled those boys shall build a reedlodge for you. And there you will stay; for ten days you are not to see your mother or any other women." Then, on the eleventh day, his mother came and saw him; and all the women came to see that young man. When all the women saw him, then he fell sick, having been looked upon by a woman in her menses. Until noon he was as if dead. The old men assembled. "Now," said the old men; "it must be something, that which he carries on his back; let us make him an offering; let us give him something of value and ask him what that may be which he has on his back." Therewith those old men went and gave that boy things of value of all kinds, such as they had. "0 Grandchild, what is that thing you carry on your back? We ask you this." "0 Grandfather, I shall tell the tale. I have seen a Great Spirit of the Waters; he it is has given me this which I bear. That I shall never look in vain for game-animals he told me; 'Never shall you lack clothing,' he told me. But this is what I carry on my back." With this he opened that piece of birchbark; it was vermilion. "Here is that thing," he said, "which I shall carry about with me when I hunt." Thereupon he opened the other piece of birchbark. "-'And this, my grandchild, when you give me to eat,1 this you will use. You will enter the bodies of all kinds of living creatures2 when you go to attack your fellow-mortals,'" - he told those old men. Thereupon he gave them some to use when they hunted and to make them formidable. That is all. 1 A warrior who slays an enemy is feeding that enemy to his guardian spirit. 2 That is, assume their outward form. ar, 60 560Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 117. A YOUTH OBTAINS EVIL MEDICINE. (WAs~i'9) nikut indi'niw vki'2SAn aiwanin. nikut' nis3i'k niw d'wiwan~in. sinan; iniwi'n nisi'k niw as ki-8d'-sehkt~hsih. w~'matan teh tWtwanin, wa'ts-we'matAn, as ki-pts-wdtohlAkut; aniwi'n tdih s kiw-pitsj'nikut as ki-pahp~'situa2. in4'win s ki-ne~na'tsin ta/b afpd'hsusun; iniwi'n teh s ki-mind'tin anuh?W'matAn, 5 lciw-awdn&'tsi'n we-'kuwa2. ini? keh s mi'tsihsitua? anuh 6'hnAn. mi~si'k tdi'?takats-witsi'wdiw anu/b we-'matAn. imi's ta/b kiw-anuahki't s ki-pina'tsin anu/b apdi'/susun. inj'2 teh s p&'ni'tat s witsiwdi'tsin. mi'i? tel& nisi'Ic niw m6'sa/b as sdi'se/bkj'/sihb. sa~ah md'ts-in47niw as ji'wit. ini'9 ta-h s iiyd'ne~ni'kvt anu/b uni'kihbikun. nko6'tiis mi? as kis~mikut. ini2-pi/b ta/b anu/b we'matAn nit~na'/bdw.' 'nahba'w,' iku'ah. ini'? teh 8 Mats yA'tua?. imi's kute'2na8 ini? as ndwd'tua?, ma'tsme?tik pa'hkinakdi'mi/b ktinu'a/bkusit. ni? ta/b s kawa/ba&'tsin; ini? A ts'hkahatsin. ta'?, ini'win s nZ'puwit inn/b wdwe'matit; iniwi'n teA s miyd'wvinatsin anuhb md'ts-me?ti'kwAn. mni? s ts'pi?tat inu/b ind'niw, inuh wawj'matit, as ispdnii'tsin aninuh ma'ts-me?tikwAn. ini'win-pih, 'uma'2-pihb! umA 's aw~/b-nZ'p&?!' ndn'tsin ann/b we'matan; 'ana'pUnMAS!' ini?-pih teA mini uta'nina' peA tsi-pAkdind'tsin; &'pe/btaw aku'm tak na'mehkiwAk inis as ki-paka'/btsikitua?, ini? ani'wdk mi/b as wd'pinah mi/b uta'ninA' peA. ini? ta/b as pa?sd'/bkat ni'w-inn/b; ni'w teA d'WiWAlc. niku't teA niw kayjs-mamd't,8in, ini? teA s us~/d'tin uta'nihti yen. kayj8-kR'Sihatsin, ini? as kjwa"'tua?. kAnu Wi/yAk uwi'hkiha'nan as pas ispanii'tsin, ahp~i'ts-kusa'kwAnit. hbaw, misi'k wAya'pa/b, ini? s nAt6'/bat ke?tsi'kAmiah; wa'?naw n6-'?suhb as timi'k, ini'? s kZs-mehbkdwa'tsin ma ts-nAma'wAn. ifli2 s kjs-ne?na'ts3in. imi'? as kj8-pyA'tua?, s pind'tua? MaAts-nAm'a" wAn, mita'tah s d'witna? s akuAna'tua?. ini'? ahpa'n niw kayet-8-isW?tAt. mama w ma'?nikinit nAmd'w, ini'? kaye-s-ina'pati/bi/b. a/bk6'?sik, 'ma'ts-mAts'?-Awa'tuk!' ke-,s-an5'nik ke?ts-ind'niwAn 5 nt~ndhd'tsin. ini?-pi/b kayjs-md'tsiAt, ke-s-aw~'A-ne?nAtSin. wii'?naw ta/ imis s kj's8-pis-a?nA'tsin, ini'? ta/b kayZs-isyA'tua? aki'ku/b Iayesan~na'tua? ke?t8-ind'niwAk,. kAn teA u.Wi'Askesinan inn/b. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 561 117. A YOUTH OBTAINS EVIL MEDICINE. (Wasa') A certain man had a son, an only child. When this boy grew big, he was very lazy; he did not hunt; he merely lay in one place all the time. He had a cousin who used to come and keep him company; this cousin would invite him to come along hunting. Then the cousin would slay deer and give them to him to take home; that was the way he and his father got their food. But even at that, he did not like to go with his cousin, because it was work to bring home the deer. So finally he quit going with him. So after that he did nothing but lie around. When he had grown to manhood, his parents upbraided him. Then at one time he was made angry by their reproaches. So then he called that cousin of his. When he had come, "I'll go with you," he told him;"I shall look for a spear." "Come along," said the other to him. So then off they went. Off yonder somewhere they came to a great tree, a tall Norway pine. He felled it; he trimmed off the branches. There stood that cousin of his; then he lifted up that huge tree and laid it in place. His cousin stood motionless with astonishment, when he lifted that great tree in his hands. Then, "Go stand over there!" he told his cousin; "Off to one side a bit!" Then he struck the tree with his axe; full half as loud as when these Thunderers strike their blow, was the sound as he wielded his axe. The tree split into four lengthwise pieces; four they were. One piece he took, and of it he made his spear. When he had finished it, they went home. No one was able to lift it, it was so heavy. On the next day, he went fish-spearing in the sea; far out in the deep water he came upon a great sturgeon. He killed it. Then they came home, bringing that great sturgeon, which it took ten men to beach. That was the way he continued to do. The very greatest sturgeon, he was the man for them. At last, "A great evil spirit!" some old men commissioned him to seek. Then he set out to slay it. To some far-off place where he set it down when he brought it, did they resort who had sent him for it, those old men. It was an evil being. 36 562 52Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol.- XII 118. A YOUTH SLAYS SPIRITS FROM WHICH AN EVIL MEDICINE IS OBTAINED. (pa yd'wihsih) Ybahcd'w, rnamct'tsi~taWAlc- nilka'tew-d'tSiMa'WAk, umci'nilcanitua2. naldi'w, niku't pahni'hseh kawi'n nik5'tuh ukc~s-mis&'hkAtewd'nan. qn~p lkAn-ame'htsiw as wa'pah, iniwi'n-pih ki-mi'tsihsit. di'nu tapii'tamaakin 6'hnAn; s misa'hkAte-'wdt iku'ahin, awad'tukAn as pawiind'tsin, ini'h teh aw-6'h-awdt'tukit. kawi'~n teh uwi'hlcihi'Ikunan anuh 6'hnAn. iniwi'n ni~w tahnei'nuh mi'p d'ts-kAnah wdi'pah ki-mi'tsihsit. hd~'nutv kawin umj'nikunan as pas m~'tsik ka'k~h anu'h ukiAn; po'ts teh niw w~'1ki niw ats-kA'nah kusk6'sinit anu'h, UliAn, ini-wi'n-pih kinto-ni'hah mii'nawats lkd'k~h tdi-n~'tsik; wj'ki y6'win kiw-indlkuhkwah ldi'k,5h ki-mehkdi'h 8 mJ'ts9ik tahna'nuh mi'p. kawin a nuw utd'hsamikunan a'nuw mi'p aninnh uki' yAn. kahpih ma'2nikenit, pahpe'sit, kawin ni4k&'tuh una'2nanan apd'h9swun ayd'ts-niw-me~nike'nit j/ima'te-sit. nik65'tas ayii'wik, nikut ke~ts-inii'niw iniuwi'n-pih -maydi'watsihettsin ap ihni'hsAn as wZ'htam~wd'ts9in: 'naha'w, uma'nakah as n&'uwahkik, p~n nik6'tuh isi'Akun; mats~'2-awd'tuk irni's as it. y6's niuw kdi'2tsih pahpZ'sikun!' naha-i'w, niku't rnamdi't.i0taw ka-win kdi'k~h umd,'2tikWAn; ut&'kas3 nisi'k niw ki-tahk6'namin as pahpi'sit. ndwii'tsin anuh apdi'hsusvn, iniwin ini-pimjYnisihud'tsi'n; inm-AtNIma'tsin, imiwin as pa'pakanud'(sin inih utii'kas. naha'w, inu,'h teh ina'niw nik6'td8s,ni'p, 'hahi~iv, ha'nitu~k ai'sina'kusit inuh k5'2tinik-d'yah? pas nikli's-isiAM!' sa~yeh mi'p nijw-maiitsi'win as isi'At isi.. h'w, payli'Atdt, kawin ka'k6h urnd'minan wd'lci2 tsi~w-ai'wik inih k6'2tinih. ins? teA as ts&iwi' yapit. nazv~nd'hsihsih iniwvi'n-pih nay6'htah kdi'k~h as tsi-kii'kit5'wdk. 'hd'uw, inn,'? keh kA'napats!' indi'nihtA'Min. )uaw~nii'hsihsih niwv kd'2tin kAni'win pits-1it6'A1nenit. 'hd', ay6'2 keh!' nahdi'w, iniwi'n-pih niw wayd'p~t, wdip~ha'tsin as pine-'nisihuknt; iniwin ahpi'n as kii'htsi?tat. h~'y, ahkj'2s8ik ni' kdi'2tih ahkk5'2 -sik kdi~tsi'h niw umewvin di'htan-'wa-k ini'h us~w. ki'i6wal ini' aso0w. 'hZ'!1' ind'niht.&min ta?, 'nin&2?nik!' hd'2. atd'mikin. h&'w, iniwi'n-pilh WZ'ka-wa? i'nakah dn&'wimit. ts#~k payi'.%tdt as umd'nikanitna2, iniwi'n-pih inim-diy,5Ao hit, ayii'h ayum ke~tsih ni'w as pi'hpakhtunik, as atd'mikut. ha-'w, iniwi'n teA niw ahpdi'n i1niwi'n as 6h6'1hit. nalht'w, imis umdt'nikanu'Iwa? ni? as tsi-tdi'pehtuIh. 'hd', apdi'ApenisiWA'k! ini? keA sa~ye'A wi yAk as ki's-isiAt! - hM'w, inih-pih niw mdi'watsihiti'kun wZYkiwAmiA!f' M'~w, iniwi'n-pih ma'wa ni ni inih ci'htahmit inih um'i'nikan 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 563 118. A YOUTH SLAYS SPIRITS FROM WHICH AN EVIL MEDICINE IS OBTAINED. (Payawihsih) I shall tell of some people who dwelt in a town. A certain youth never fasted. Early in the morning, before dawn, he would always eat. In vain did his father forbid it; he told him to fast and dream of spirits, so as to obtain mystic power. But his father could not prevail over him. He kept right on eating every morning, before sunrise. In vain did his mother refrain from giving him food; in spite of everything, before his mother was awake he would seek some morsel to eat; as big as this would be the bit of food which he found and ate every morning. It availed nothing that his mother gave him no breakfast. When he grew up and hunted, never did he kill any deer, even to the time of his manhood. Then at one time a certain old man assembled the youths and told them of this thing, "Now then, never go in yonder direction, toward noon; over there dwells an evil spirit. Hunt close by here." Now, a certain man had nothing in the way of a bow; only his stone club he would hold in his hand, as he hunted; when he saw a deer, he pursued it and overtook it and struck it down with his club. Then, one morning, this man, "Now, I wonder how that creature looks of which we are warned. I might as well go to that place." Early in the morning he started forth and went there. When he came to the place, nothing did he see of whatever it was he had been warned against. He stayed there. After a while he heard something rattle. "Well, here he is, I suppose!" he thought. Soon, indeed, that being came forth. "So here he is!" Then he ran, fleeing from it as it pursued him; he ran without stopping. At last nearer and nearer came the noise of that creature's tail, the rattling of its tail. "Oh," he thought, "it will kill me!" It was overtaking him. He headed for where they dwelt. When he got near the town, he kept whooping as he ran, while that creature, whatever it was, came running in the same direction, close upon him. He did not cease whooping. Then his cries must have reached the town. "Danger is upon us! Someone must have gone to that place! Assemble at once in the house!" As many as were in that man's town, they crowded into the place. 36* '364 5ti4 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII m5skine'tua2. Md'w, iniwin-pih U,7pU,'AIkAn wa'naslki'naniii; hid'w, ini'2-pih telh tsi-IciA~ta'hsi1mi&. kawin WS'YAk ut-0t1b'4pna'nan. 'hz' apdhpeni's5iWAk 4'si~taydi~c, apdhni'hsAk! wd~wj,'pi~takun! w~' pats wi'yAk icAt ut&'hpinew anuh uhpu'akctnan!' misi' und's3kinand'win inuh uhpu'alcan; iniwin misRi'k icayia?t~'hsih; lkawi'n misilk wt'yAk te5t&'hpinanan. IVe, apa'1bpeni's8iwAk d'si~taydik, apdibni'sAk! kind'pi'? kWsp'in IkAn nanji's utii'kpinek!' Iha'w, iniwi'n-pikh misik wdi'naskinanih; Md'w, iniwin-pik misi'Jk kaysA~ta'hsih. inul& ayd'tsiMAk ta1&nd'nuh mi'p tsi-ki-mi'tsihsit, isku'ahtemih iniwi'n as apZ't. Md'w, inuh uhpu,'akAn iniwin Misi'k as ma'tiAt as kia~tii'hsih. inuh W~'matan tsiW-ayd'winit inuJh apdihni'hseh tahndi'nu1& k1iyum, uhpu'akAn?' IV ni~at. apispi'ts! awdi'tuk d'wiw ayvm,' iku'ahin 'W'matAfl. 'M',w, ni~a't, nina'h keh ninaw-uti'hpinaw ayum uhpu'akcAn.' mnu'? teh aydi'wit inuk mi'p ki-miim~i'tshsit. ha', payiAki'nit, mim,-uti'hpenew anuh uhpu'akanan, as u'hpuAt hd'W, iniwi'aytiya'ne?ni'ku~t h&'1hnAn. 'pa~c~tinin inuh uhpu,'AkAn! nik6'tuh 6'h kikojs-Mis&'hkAtewd'mit?' kA'n;- uIhpi'win p6'ts niw, kay~s-ani'h-Uhpu'At, m~nei'tsin aninuh we'matAn uhpu,'alkanan. nalba'w, ay*J-ani'l&-uhpu'atua2, iniwi'nphkayZ'wat, aw~h-tsZ'patakait m~linan mtisi niacw ~mn'c yO-'win a'ninah an~ih unti'Akan nii'kaw inih, Misi'k teh UMA's1 WdcWi'ht. Md'w, kay&s-wdsi'1&it, iniwi'n as 8ai'kesit. iniwin as ma'WtiAt as i~i'At as pis-tani'tah inuh mamdi'tsi~taw. Ad'w, inik-pik mayatsyA'tua2, payiAtd'tua2, pi'hpahta'win inuh mam, ti~a.pits-pi'Atat mi sitaiim-pd'pehbtsnin inuh mam'tsi~taw. hd'W, iniwin tek Matsi'At. kAniwin niw payi'hpahtunik ani'nuh teh pa mine 'sihukut nuh mamd'tsi?taw;, inuh teA md"tsmaskfWt'ah-pisdi'hkiw iniwi'n teh isg'Ikiw aya'wit. Ad'w,?iniwi'npik 4'8ehkawj,'tsin aninuk awdi'tukAn. pi'Apalitunik, 'hah&d'w, hi'2 teA as-papdim I~nimat ayum. mama' - iniwmi'n niw as3 pis-nak&'2tat. 'kAsa'? kikii'hkinanan y5's ni'nah as i'yen! mid'wa ni niw kike-san~'hine'MUAW ditahs3i'ydk awdi'tukAk; nine'? niw ahp4'n nd'2tam mi'p ki-mi'tsihsiyen. md'waw kelh ni'w kik~s-ani'hine'MUAw awad'tukAk. haIh-i'w, kina-mikii'ti? teA; ta? tsib'n inuh mamd~'tsi?taw kkd'ta-ne~naw!' ha'w, nei'sehkawdi'tsin, U~s-pyAdt, naha-'w, kina'h k-dh nii'?tam w4'pJ?taA; tsi'n kk-d'ta-ne'2na mamd'tsi?taw.!' 1Hand passed across face. 1928' Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 565 Then a pipe was filled; it was passed round the assembly. No one took it up. "It is a desperate tiing you are doing, youths! Make haste! Let someone quickly take up the pipe!" Again the pipe was filled; again it passed round the circle; again no one took it up. "It is a desperate thing you are doing, youths! We are dead, if you delay to take it up!" Once more it was filled and passed round. That one of whom I am telling, the one who ate betimes every morning, by the door was where he sat. That pipe now again went forth upon its round. Then that youth who ate every morning, he it was who said to his friend, "Now then, friend, why do you not take up this pipe?" "Ho, by no means! A spirit is that being!" he was answered by his friend. "Very well, brother, then I shall take up this pipe." It was he, the one who was in the habit of eating early every morning. When the pipe came round to him, he took it up and smoked. Then his father chided him. "Put down that pipe! Have you forsooth ever fasted?" But no; he smoked none the less, and when he had done, he gave the pipe to his comrade. When they had finished smoking, he went home and there donned his headgear of feathers; and then some of this earth, like this he took some earth into his hands and daubed it on his face here. When he had painted himself, he went out of the house. He set out and went yonder, where that man was even then coming with noise. "Come with me, friend," he said to his companion. When, starting forth at once, they reached the place, there was that man running toward them. When he came to where they were, that man fell down in his tracks. Then he set out. Soon hither came running that creature in pursuit of that man; it was like a great buffalo. So then he went to meet that spirit. As it came running, "Now then, what grudge do you bear this man, that you seek to torment him by your pursuit? Come, let us fight!" Then it stopped in its hither course. "It really seems that you do not know that I am in this place! I have defeated all of you spirits, as many as you are: it is always I who eat first in the morning. Yes, I have defeated all of you spirits. So now, come, let us fight, you who are by way of slaying men!" He went right up to it, and when he got there, "Now then, do you begin, you who really think you are going to slay human beings!" 566 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII '8A, nulhsi'h, kA'n! ki'nah ni nd.'2tamF~ 'I6A, hahdi'w, a? ldi'h!' hdTW, iniwin-pih ndt'sehkawd'tsin. anuh w~,'winan iniwi'n-pihz nd'tu~namuwa'tsin; ani'win teh si'lkinatsin ani'nuh wZ'winan. halh t~aydi'h awd'VtukAn ume'win d'ninatsin, palhpd'witslci'nai'tsin. 'haha-'w, nimehs&5'2, min2 as a-mikdi'tiyah sa'? yeh!' 1hd'w, iniwi'n teA ki'2tsikiyawdi'punatsin; minwin as me' 2natsin. Aa'w, inim-kW'wdt, 'hahd'i'w ni.,at. ni? as lke-s-ne'2nalk awii'tulk!' as kjwdt'tua2, 'Ai'w, ini2 as kis-ne~na'tsin sa~yd'h,' ind'tsimo-win invh, we'matAn. nalhi'w, ini?-pih i'nuh mam&'tsitaw m&b'waw ni'w inih umdi'nika'n~waw ii'ahdsi'tua2, mii'watuna~4Jua2 an&'Ikatsilcan p62s8d'Akalcanam; I5'w, ini'2-pih teh may~'niA inuh kaye-w-ap-ne'natsin. nah5'w, kay~s-mj'niA, ini'2-pih tsi-nitfI3'silket kets-indini'Ahsmn Misik- wZ' YAWkehke'hsAn as a-w~A-ki'skisu,'atua2 wv?-'n1yAn inuh awd'tuk. naka'w, jni'2 inik mayZ'nih ano6'hkatsi'kan ini'2 as m~nii'tsin aninul& d'n~na'tsin ke~ts-ind'niwan. A'w, ini'2-pih di'wanatsin, kayjs-m~nii'tsin a0sika'nan. Cnaha'w, U'Idwz'pi&tAknm s ki'skisik,' ind'win. Ai'w, ini2-pih tsi-wvt'pi~tatva? alcuh kitslci'wAk kitsi'niyesu'atua'". nahdi'w, ini? sa24l& saka'nah way~'hkiha'tua2, iniwi'n-piA ndi'pik inuA ke~ts3-ind'niw. 1u7'w, imuh teh mitsi' niw we'yAwekeA 8a~ydi'h kayis-ki'8kisuatsin, iniwin-pih nlilpik inuh w~'yAwkehIe. Md'w, mi'? Ikeh. iniA me'2tilk kayjs-W~'kahah, iniwin-piA pai'tsis~kahitsin ami'nuh wi'niyAn;, iniwin-pih maya'tsiAt, s aw~'h-a?natsin wa'2naw;k-ayjs-wd'nehk-et, imiwi'm teA as ani'kwahatsin. Ad'w, iniwin-pih pis3-1k'wit. pit8-pi'Atat w~'1cwa?, in'iA an6'hkatsikan imiwin mayen&'t~sin ani'nuA 6'hnan tsiwv-d'winit aninuA ke?ts-iniimi'AhAn~. Ai'w. mni'? keh s Ikjs-ne,?na'ts8in. iniwin teA d"'ts inuh kayis-ne'natsin, 'aw,-inim-una'ts-ah~.~wi2 y6'rn s aw-ini'm-ihpa'nanek ayum mnamd~'tsi?tavw?' iniwi'n dine'tsin inmuh kaye~'s-ne~natsin awa'tukAn. Aa'w, ini? Aa'nuw as kUs-ne?na'tsin. 8a? yeA, Ah7'w, minwin as ayi'tua?. Ad'w, maw'~'naw iniwin-piA misi'lk mayii'watsihilcuhta? ke?ts-ind'niwAn mi~i'k. 'ahad'w, apdhnmi'sAk, uma'nakaA pits-y6A-mi3'AkahaA i'nakah p~n nik5'tvA misi'lk isyA'lkun; ini'9 as V't misi'k mict'iniwin di'niAhaha'w, nawj'na niw ayd'wilc, 'Ah7'w, ni?a't, k-At kitii'sia? mini inuh as tsi'w-it awdi'tukc; ta'?, kitd'wj&-ndiw5'naw!' Ahiw, as MdtsyA'ua?, piAtfi'tua? mnis: 'Aa', y6'? lkeA tsiw-T'wik!.' a 'yapitua?, mawinii'hsihisiA ay&'wik, kdi'?tin iniwin sa?dA mit'sihatua? pi'Anit. hjAy, inuA teh ki-ne'?natsin nipd'win; inulh teh 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 567 "Oh no, child; do you begin!" "Oh, very well; as you wish!" He stepped up to it. He reached for its horns; by its horns he seized it. Dear me, he held the spirit at arm's length, shaking it by its head. "So there, Grandfather; now we shall fight!" With that he jerked its neck out of its body; he killed it. Then, on the way home, "There, friend, now I have killed a spirit-being!"1 When they got home, "Now he has killed him," was the tale his comrade told. Then all those people, as many as were in the town, gathered cloth-goods and garments; to him it was given, who had been off to slay the creature. When it had been given him, he asked for an old man and an old woman, to go and cut out the spirit's muskgland. The cloth-goods which he had been given he gave to those old people whom he was asking for this service. Giving them knives, he took them to the place. "Now then, hurry and cut it free," he told them. Then those old people began to cut out the musk. They had almost got it, when the old man died. The old woman, who was left, had no sooner cut it free, than she also died. But he had it, at any rate. He cut a stick and speared up that musk-gland; he went and placed it somewhere far off; digging a deep hole, he buried it under the ground. Then he went home. When he reached his dwelling, he gave the cloth-goods to the children of those old people. So now he had done slaying it. This was what he said, who had slain it, "Can there be a proper continuance of the earth, if you are to deal thus with mortal men?" Thus did he address that spirit which he had slain. So now he had fully done killing it. There they dwelt. Then, after a short time, again the old men gathered them all together. "Now, youths, in yonder direction of the rising sun, do you never go; there dwells another such," they were told. Then, soon, "Come, friend, let us go where that spirit is said to stay; let us go see it." When they set out and had got there, "This must be the place!" As they sat waiting, after a time, then, in fact, they felt its approach. Ho, he who killed spirits was asleep; the other man sat waiting. 1 This term is applied also to the ordinary game-animals, such as the deer, which this lad had never been able to kill. "a 6 8 568 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl I Vol. XII 'I& y!' W'ts~' ipend'tin, 'ni?a't, sa~ye'h ini? as pi'At!' 'he', ni~at, nijxd'nun pinal&!' 'si'h, ni~at, pinal& un*~'nun! ay6'2! ayum-e'2 sa~yeh payi'tuhnet!' icawin ulc&'taw-uni'nan. h&'w., wdi'hta sdi'kisiwin. tsj'2ts-ipend'win. 'hyii'h, ni?at, 6nt~'nun pinak! ayu'm-e2 payi'tuhnet!' VhI', apdhpeni'.SiWAk!' inii'nihtA'min inuk ayid'yapit. uma'2tikWAn tahk~n4'win. $t'tuhnenit, sa~eih ume'win ihpi'h niw pi'tuhnenil; hd'w, iniwin-pih paimu'atsin anuh umd'2tikwAn w~'p. icawin p6'ts petd'hkinaw&'nan. W1e, ni~a't, dng'nun pinahl&! indeI'in w~'matan; '-ayu'm-e2 sayelh!' y6'win-pih niw sa~yeh pi'tuhnenit; iniwin-pih wdni't, tsg'2na'td'2 teh pit8-ind'hka yen? initSiWAlc kd'h pis-IcAta'-ne?nAt mama' t,8i~taw! 1iahud'w, kiskina-'pituk nayiinii'taman y6's ni'nah as Voyn? mad'wa ni niw lki'na2 lkilcs-an%'hine'muAw ninah, nd'2tam mi/p icimi'tsihsi yen lc8'. naha'w, lkina-milc&'ti2 teh!' as ni'pi~tat, isi'At. 'n~aha'w, ta'?, lkina'I Ikeh na'2tam;- ta'?, icine'? pis8-naw~ni'hiyah!' 'h'wl, kina'h ni na'2tam, nu'khsiI&!' 'IhWoA, Ihaka'w, ta'2, kina-mik&'ti2 kce/!' iniwin s ta'pinamowa'tsin anuh uht&'walcAn; iniwin s tapinatsin, hM'w, ta/h mima'kuna'tsin. hii'h taya&'h nimwi'2 awa'tulk! Ihd'w, iniwin teA s ke-8-mi8ikc-ki'2ts8iliyawd'punatsin- ta'2, iniwin ie/i s lc8~-ne'?n~atsin. hia'w, ini? ce/i s 1cs-ne'?natua2. pa'nanik ayum mama'tsi~taw?' ind'win. iniwin misi'lk nim-d'tsimit, '/ia'w, ini? as /kjs-ne?na't~sin misikU.' iniwi'n-pi/i misi'k mayii'watuna'hklua2 an6'I&latsilkan, me-'nihi mu/i kay.~s-ne'?natsin. hah&'w, ini'?-pi/i misilc tsi-nt5'tsikcet Icits/kI'wAn, as a-lci'slkisu'atua? anuh misi'Ic w$'fiyAn. /iu'w. ini? m-isi'ic tsiw-awana'tsin Ikitslci'wan. /ia'w, a'?selcan" minwin as mind'tsin. /iuiw, iniwin wd'pi~tatua?, Iciskisuatua2. 8aka'nahi layi'slcisu'atua2, ini'win-pi/i nd'pik mnuh Ice?t8-intd'niw. /ia'w, teh nui We'yAWe'iceh sa24/i kayjs-k1ci'sciuatsin, iniwin-piA, nuf'piic we'ymwel-ehi. /id'w, ini? sa~ya'/i teh s mdtsyA'tua'?. iniwin misi'Ik me~tilc kW~a/iahi, nima'/ikwa/iatsin ani'nu/i wl-niyAn, ma'tsiAt s awd&-wdi'nehk~et. iniwin-pih s awe/h-ani'lcwA/iatsin, /iai'w, as kj'wdt. ini2 as 1ci8-nayi'sne' 2natsin. ta'?, ini'? ice/i. na/ia'w, nik~ta's nda'/ka/i ni2-pih ldi'?ts-ina'niwvAk ni'w tsiw isi'Atua? ani'nu/i layjs-ne'?natsin anu/i awd'tulcAn. lba/ia'w, payiAta'tua?, 'na/i&'w, nu/isi'/, mnu/ wi'niy lkipis-natr3' tamunine 'minaw,' ina'WAkcin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 569 He shook him, "Hey, friend, there he comes!" "Oh, do sleep!" "Why, friend, get up! Here he is! Even there he comes a-walking!" He made no move to get up. The other was truly frightened. He shook him. "Dear me, friend, do get up! Right here now he comes a-walking!" "Oh, bother! You greatly disturb me; I am trying to sleep. It is I, friend!" "This is the end of us!" thought he who sat there. He took hold of his bow. In its approach it was now no farther off than this; then he shot it with an arrow from his bow. The being was entirely unaffected by the shot. "Friend, do get up!" he cried to his companion; "Here he is!" It had come as close as this; then he arose and looked at it. Dear me, a spirit-being! It heard him, and stopped, facing him. "And what may you be seeking here? It would really seem that you have come here to kill men! Can it be that you have not heard, again and again, that I am in this place? Surely you know that I have defeated all of you, by eating first of a morning. Very well, we shall fight it out!" and he arose and stepped up to it. "Come now, do you begin; it is you have sought us out!" "Nay, do you begin, child!" "Oh, very well, just so long as we do fight!" Then he took hold of its ears; that was the way he took hold of it, shaking it from side to side. That was the end of the spirit. He jerked its neck from its body, even as he had done with the other. He killed it. So now they had slain it. Then, "Can there be a proper continuance of the earth, if you are to go on dealing thus with the race of mortal men?" he said to it. Thereupon they went home. Then again he reported, "He has killed this one also." Then they again collected cloth-goods, which were given to him who had slain that creature. Again he called for some old people to cut out the musk. He took the oldsters with him. He gave them each a knife. "Make haste!" They began to cut it. When they had almost cut it free, the old man died. When the old woman had cut it out, she died. Then they went from there. Again he cut a stick and impaled the musk-gland and went off to dig a pit. There he buried it, and went home. So now he had slain them both. So he was done with that. Then once at night four old men went to that man who had killed the spirits. Upon arriving, "Pray, Grandchild, we have come to ask you for some of that musk," they said to him. 5' 70 ~7O Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII (4jA4, ajpispa'ts! kAn pAs leimi'nine'nuwawan; nih ni'w isis1-a'nawinihtatmukun!' ini'win ni' winak& kay~s8-is-'nehs~i'2atua2 aki'kuh ke~t8-ind'niWAk. misi'k naw~'naw iniwi'n-pih misik ni'w asyA'tua?, misi'k 8 awdh-nAtUt'tam~wa'tU,,a aninuh wtniyAn. 'hakha'w, nuhsi'h, ndi's k-At sawa'nimiyalbs a-mn-'siyaA!' 'h~A, apis3pd'ts8! kAn pAs kimi'nine'n'awawan; ini'lt niw, isis-di'nawe'nilhtamukun. nimd'As35mdi'lhAk!' iniwi'n andi'tsin. /&a'2, iniwi'n k-eh lciwi'tua? UrnAs ke~ts-inai'niwAk. nalbi'w, Misi'k niw iniwin niw misi'k aSyA'tua?, rnMs'k niw- awAl-nAto'tamo-wa-'tua? misi'k. 'nal&&'w, nuhsi'A ndi's kAt siiwd'nimiyah; md'nawats m~'si yak!' ~5A, nah&'w. diniwdi'k kek kiMiydtsi'ahkawi' MUAW. nak&d'w, kinarn~'nine 'MUAW ma'nawats.' 'nah&d'w, ini'2 leek wdlwd'nin, nu'hsih; me'siyakd' hia'w', ni' 2-pih teh tsi-kUs-ndnai'tin winah inuh kayj8-ne~na'tsin, mne'nawats as awZ'h-patskisuatsin aninuh w'itniyAn. lhi'w, ini2-pih payi'tuwatsin, tsi-mend'tsin. 'nahi'w, nimd'hsumd'hsAk, ayu'rn aye5' 2 niw a-ne~ni'namei'tiyek. leAn tel& wi'nah kinaw-wi 'hkeiltunuwtCI'wan inih wak-nat6'tam6'wiyek,' ini'win in&'tsin. hoiw, keJs-me-nd'tsin aninuh, rnisi'le niw wdnitipd/hklah, iniwi'n-pik misi'le dsyA'tva? alei'luh kee~t8-ina'niwAke ni'w. Cnalhi'w, nuhsi'h, ndi's leAt 8awd'nimiyah;- mj',siyaA4 misi'ke i'nul& nileut!' C4~Ah, ap'hpenisiWAle d'ydle, nimd'h&s5mt'hsAle! apis8pd't8! lkAn pas kimj'nine'nwawan. ini'h niw is-d'nawvenilbtamukeun.' kiwd'tua2 akileuhk eets-ina'niwAle. lh&'w, rnisi'le niw nd'hleal, ini2 ni? ni misi'le 4syA'tua2. naIhd'w., ini-pyAta'tua?, 'hj'I&, nuhsi'h, ndis leAt sawd'nimiyal&; rdi'nawats nil's ke~t m~'si yah!' 'khi'w, atniwdi'l leek kimynhtsi'ahkawirnuAw. hM'w, liam'i ne'fMUAW,' kJ'u, Ma'tSiAt, ndA-ii'tsin, mdi'nawats awih-patskisu'atsin. kei'w, payi'At, 'nakhi'w, ini'2 idik! ta'2, ay6'2 teh niw aya-'pehtaw a-ne~ni'ktati'ydkil. ini'? leAna'pat8 s a-piini'aihkawi'yek. nakei'w, mni'?, ini'? tek aw-6k-wi'kkihtawtile ayum y6'hpik maytj'nindkuk, inik ukik-nata'tama'wiyale,' ini'win cind'tsin. ini'? leek. mfAski'hkkw tek us9j'ktawAk; kAt wayj'8kciwah a'wiu'in. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 571 "No, there is no use asking me! I cannot give you any; give up the thought of it once and for all!" So they old men were disappointed in their errand. After a time, once more they went there, to ask him again for the musk. "Pray, Grandchild, take pity on us and give us some!" "No, it is no use to ask me! I would not give you any; give up the thought even now, Grandfathers mine!" he answered them. The old men went back home. Then again they went there and asked him for it. "Pray, Grandson, take pity on us; give us but a little!" "Now surely you pester me with your comings! Very well I shall give you a little of it." "Thank you, Grandson; do give us some!" Then he who had slain that creature went and cut a small piece of that musk. He brought it and gave it to them. "Very well, Grandfathers, this much you shall share between you. But you will not be able to do that thing for the sake of which you have demanded it of me," he told them. When he had given it them, in the next night those four old men again went there. "Pray, Grandson, do take pity on us; give us another piece!" "Oh, this is an evil thing you say, Grandfathers! By no means! I cannot give it to you. Even now give up the thought!" - and the old men went home. The next evening they went again. When they reached the place, "Pray, Grandchild, take pity on us; pray, do give us a little!" "In truth, you do annoy me with your visitations! Very well, I shall give you some,"-and he went, cut off a piece, and brought it. When he came, "There! This then you will evenly divide among you. Now perhaps you will stop bothering me. With this which I now give you, you will be able to do that for whose sake you demand it of me," he told them. That is all. They made some medicine; it was of no good sort. VII. TALES OF EUROPEAN ORIGIN. 119. THE FROG-PRINCE. (Joseph Satterlee) n~ikut mita'mbuh wdwZ'kiwin; ukiVsAn teA ta'WArnn. aya'h tdh aumd'Ahcahk~w a-'wiwin~, ani'nu~h uki'2sAn,. nik5'tdi's nsiw as maiksadsehlke'Asih, iniwin-pih aya'yuhtsimit: nahai'w, inuk ulci'yah~sirnaw s n6'Ihtawatsin uki'2sAn, `pin~'M!' iniwin-pih payd'ts-k,-uts~'mtunatgin ukt'?SAn. 'a? kd'h!' jwa'khin nuh uma'hlcahkaw. iniwin tdh Ike~tse-'k as wi'kitua2 kjka'Ihkuk ne'2niw, uwj'tiktd'IkUWtWA1. iniwin teh as awjA-nat6'tsi',ket nilcu't anih kisWhsmn auki?sAn s8 kAtdW-wZ'kihtaAhi'tsin. td'2. m~rdi'win tah nilcu't. naMd'w, ini'win-pih weya'p-u&,s6'2tAt uki'2sAn as katd i-wj,'kimiwdi'nit. Aa'ta?, iniwin-pih nay&'nih inuh ki?sZ'hseh. ta'?, kc~-8pdi'ts-us8Z'2tahtawin inuh uki'yalhsemew anih uki'2s9An aqupIbhtA'wt'IkinikAnim, patsundi'2t~uk nipd'kan. iniwi'n teh s usz'hsih inul& kir~sZ'kseh. nahii'w, iniwin-piA payi'At inuk unui'hkahkbw, 8 pis-Idiku'ahnet skt'w usWh~ih. iniwin wahkz't8 s ku'aIlnet nep&'lanih. ta'?, inuh kisZ'hseh may6'sihatsin, tss'aAhkAkAnama'win; niwin s aw.Z'h-pAkii'kihsih inul& nuMh'h umii'hkahk6w ahki'Aih. naha'w, inuh kicsZ'hseh ini'win ni'w s kWs-nipdkc; kawi'n uki-8-ya'h-kusko-'sinAn. iniwin dkhpj'htesit inuh umii'Alahlk~w. h&'w, iniwi misi'k as mj'nih aninul& uhsi'mimnawAn as a-wZ'kimats8in. t&'2, pahpisiw di'paA misi'k wd'sihsih uneffpi'kAn~wa2, s3a~yd'h misik pi'win umd~'hkahko-w; pis-kdku'ahnewin wahk~ts3 nepei'kanih. kay~s-pdt8-ts3Z'2nApuma-'tsin inulh k2se-I~seh, lcAku'Ane?nAkcd'nikt.,rnin; tsi'AhkAkAnama'w1in uma'hkahkc6wAn. inlswif ahkl-'hih as aw~h-tsi'Ahkihsi1& umii'hkahk~w. nahcdw, iniwin-~piA niw wina'h ap nid'pik; kAn uvkjs-ydih-kuskc6'sinen inuh k~se-'hseh, dina'nimik~ut umdhkAhk4& 'wAn. iniwin di'hpits-mAsk 'wik utahpZ'htswi inu~h umni'hkAIhIcw. kjs-ne?ni'vA kin Ak~h vww'tikdi'hkuht5WAk;- anum teA ya'Apits u&Z~'mimaWAn rnisi'k ma ye'nih umai'hkahkow as a-wj'kimatsin. t',sa?yelh misik usih'sinin nuh kis,'hseh; Misik pji8-wap-kiiku,'ahnewin uma'hkahk~w. hliw, ~h-ay5'w ki~sZ'hs8eh ko?tA'ms'n as pas nspa'k. k-Awi'n kdi'ko-h utdi'si?tA'nAn; na'si'kAs niw us 'Ainin umi'A lkaAh6w. k6'skusit inuh ki2&Z'hseh, nanii'h-pAkii'ts ds-undii'nit waye-'hpematsin usk-' h-i nai'ni w~n. iniwin dhp~'htesit inuh umd'hkahk'3w s mdklci'wit. 119. THE FROG-PRINCE. (Joseph Satterlee) A certain woman dwelt in a place; she had a son. He was a frog, her son. Once, as he lay there he called out repeatedly: "Wie, wie!" he kept saying. Now, when the mother heard her son, "Well, well!" she said; "What does my son say? It seems, 'I want a wife!' he must be trying to say." Thereupon she carefully questioned her son. "Yes, indeed!" said the frog. Near by there dwelt three maidens, sisters. So thither she went with her suit, wishing to have her son marry one of those girls. She was given one. Then she began to arrange things for her son's marriage. Then that girl was fetched. Now the mother had carefully arranged her son's room and carefully made his bed. There, then, the girl lay down. Then came the frog, hopping in to bed. He jumped up on the bed. The girl, perceiving his approach, knocked him off; down to the ground fell the frog with a bang. Right then did that girl die; she did not wake up again. So great was that frog's power. Then he was given the next younger sister to marry. Then in the due course of things, when she too had lain down on their couch, soon again came the frog; he came hopping on the bed. When the girl had taken a good look at him, she thought it dreadful; she knocked the frog off the bed. Then the frog fell to the ground with a slam. Then she, too, died; the girl did not wake up again, through the curse of the frog. Three in number were those girls; the youngest now was given to the frog in marriage. So now this girl, too, lay down; and again the frog came hopping in. But this girl feared that she might die. She did nothing at all; all undisturbed the frog lay down. When that girl woke up, splendid was the beauty of the young man by whose side she lay. So great was the power of him who, for the time, was a frog. 576 576Publications, American Ethnologicat Society Vol. XII 120. A BOY'S MISADVENTURE. (md'sinikcd'puwiw) minilk&'n a~te'win kutd'2nas teh nald'?i'ts as d'wilk; ini'wvin w?'Ikitua2 1kitskic'wAk Wi'AhbtowAkc. ulci's~wa'wan td'wAn~in; wa 8 -ha', nik~tdi's niw MO' sa?yed'I& mis8il 8 lkAtaW-i'syAt ani'nuh Wj'nimukhSa'WAn. uhsi'meksAn teh ta'wAnin; nak.4'nisiwin inuk, pdlbni'hSel. 6A, tSi-Ma'tSyAt inul& wa'skine'nit, inuh pakni'1&selb ini'? s tsi-nawct'ts3in ani'nuh ond'hsAn s andl'muhinenit. 'Md'w, pas nike~s-witsi'wdw,' ina"'nilbtAmin inul& apdhni'Aseh. hd 'w, iniwi'n IceI s nim-atdimi'ts8in ani'nuh 52ndi'IsAn. C/dA, d'? teh winah s pi'yen?' irni'win nuh UhsemelsAn. ChdA, kilcd'ta-w~'tsyAn keh,' in&'win ani'nuh uOnd'ASAn. wad'AtA teh askdi'?nem6'wviwin inuh pdthni'hseh; neAe-'A-Mj'tsiAs~win. 'naMd'w, nil's k1At keh witsi'wina?,' indi'win?iuh uhsW'mehSAn; 'Ikittd'wats-tek,-w~'Atamun: misi w~'kiWAmih kes3-piAta'yalb, Ikispin te'h albsa'milkeyah, ni' niw lce~tsi'A lki'naA ap as aw-ape.1'yen. ihpi'h teh ni'nah td'pini'yen, ini'?-pih a-ts.jYpiskunan; ni2-pilb teh ni'w lki'nah ap a-p6'ni~tayan,' indi'win nuh uhsemehsmn. ~naAd'w,' jwd'Ihin inuh pahni'AseA. ni?-pih tsi-MatsyA'tua? pyAtditua2 ini'8 as tsi-1kiw-aweI&-mdks'aIhnet nuh wdslkin~e'nit. nik-5't&i sa?yi'I& ii'? sa?yli'A s 5nd'?tsikAtd'k- AftU'pWfLm. 'nakil'w, mi'tsihsiku,'n!' ina-'WAkcin. ta'?, y~win t.d'h niw Ice"tsi'h niw s unA'pit nulh pdihni'Ihseh, mi'tsihsi'tua?. anadm6'Aseh teA nechi'nisiwin, tata'slcikAta'w-anamo'A~eh; ini'?pih. iis tsi-pMiM-is8i'Anit; inuh pithni'hseh us~'ih teA ini? s tsipimi'w-andt'hkinit ani'nuh ruim6'h8An. y6'win niw aindi'puma'tsin ani'nuh o?na'hAsAn. iniwi'n keh niw nanii'A-palci'ts s rn'pi'?tAt inuh pdhni'hseA; kawi'n utdip-kitc'nan inih uPndikan. s8a?yd'h s kAtd-nipd'tua?, nipd'Ikan as tsiw-aw~h-u~ni'?tsikcAftfk. 'h&'w, y6'? s a-nipd'yadk,' ina&'win inuh wd'slkine'nit. htiw, iniwi'n lkeh s awjh-usi'hsihk-ua,?. winu'a? up alki'Ikuh inuh kj'kdiA. misi'k nikut ki?sWhseh uhs~mehs~n. ini'win winua? ap ais-ni'situa?, ini's ni/cut inih pi'Atawi'Alcinilckn. ni~pd'tua?, nik5'tdis niw, - ay~t'pehta-tip'la tsw 'ww - iniwi'n sa?yeA as pu,'awi?tat inul& apiahni'hseh. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 577 120. A BOY'S MISADVENTURE. (Masinikapuwiw) There was a town somewhere, standing all by itself. There dwelt an old couple. They had a son, a youth. That young man, then, was in the habit of going off courting.1 On one occasion he was about to go once more to his sweetheart's house. Now, he had a younger brother, a little boy. So now, as that young man was about to set out, the little boy saw his older brother walking yon way. "I might as well go along," thought the boy. He went on and caught up with his big brother. "Say, why are you coming?" the latter asked him. "Oh, I just want to go along with you," he told his big brother. Now truly of gluttonous nature was that boy; a great eater was he. "Very well, you may, come along with me,"2 he told his little brother; "But just let me tell you beforehand: when we have reached the house there, and they invite us to eat, then close by me do you take your seat. When I have had enough to eat, I shall nudge you with my foot, and right then you are to stop eating," he told that little brother of his. "Yes," said the boy. Then they went off, and came to the place where the young man was courting a girl. After a while the table was set. "Come, have something to eat!" they were told. Then right close by, like this, the boy seated himself as they ate. There was a little dog there, a short-legged dog; it went about there; and then on that boy's foot the little dog set down its paw, as it went by. He cast a glance at his big brother. And then in all due form the boy rose from his seat; he had not even finished what was on his plate. "Ho, what is he trying to do?" thought the boy's big brother. After they had done eating, they all sat there. When bed-time came, a bed was made for them. "There, this is where you will sleep," the young man was told. So they went to bed. But as for that young maiden, she and a little girl, her sister, were likewise in a room together. As they slept there, then after a while, - it must have been about midnight, - that boy grew hungry. Then he said to his big brother, "Oh my, I'm hungry!" Properly, by slipping into the wigwam at night, but as the story goes on, it appears that here this is not meant. 2 This is not unnatural; to this day children are humored to an incredible extent. 37 5 7 8 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII C&A,~ ta? ki'nah ap kayjs-ind'nuhkeyAn. wv~' pats niw, s kUs-po-'ni'9 -tayan, ni's as kjs-ahsd'mice yen?' ha, kikj',s-teh-mi'n-niw-ts~'piskawlimt!' ind'win ani'nuh 62nd'h'kAn ni'na'?! inn,'? nina? andm&'Ihseh; invn'? kay&s-pimi'W-i8YAt mnu'? telb s tsi-k&s-pipi'm-tsj'piskuh,' indi'win aninuh 148j'meAs~xn. ta?, ma'win inuk pdihni'hseIh, s sd'2nan&'htah. 'naha'w,' in4'win, 'inis aw~h-ntaw&'pumin pahki'8ikan; a~ta-'2swAnih mi'n s kUs-ana'tua?; misik pi'hkimi'na?tew i'ni'? niw wi'nah ap as a'2tik; man6'neh-si'2sikwAn a'wiu'in as a'2tiki inik pi'hkimi'na~tew,' inii'win ani'nuh uhse-'meh8An. kawi'n wi'nah, me~si'h uk~'kitinI,'wawan; smnawad'? ni ni'qv kd',skanus65'WAkin. howinisa~y'hs tsi-in&'tsyAt inuh apaihni'hseh. ka'?tin mehlcawa'tsin ani'nuh pahki'slikanan, msi'k inih pi'hkimi' - nam?tew kayZ's-mehkdh, iniwin s tsi-mdimi'tsihsit nuh apdihni'hseI. kaytjs-td'p-mi'tsihsit, ini'I& teh~ pi'hkbini'na?tewv, ini'win lind' - nilhtah inuh pdhn-'I~seh, 'Mb'w, nd'?neh teh wvi'nah pus mi'ts8ulal wi'nah ap j'h-y~m pi'hkimi'na~tew,' ind'nihtAmin. ini'2-pih md'nawats tsiw-uhsdtsi'nah; ni2-pi& teh tsi-wd'pulhnet. tsi-ni'siwAn teh ani'nuh 8ku,'ahtemiAn; y6'91 niw wi'nua2 s nipd'tua? mnis; akuh teh ki2sj'IhsAk y6'? niw wi'nua? up kdi~tsi'h as d'wik s ts3i-nipd'tu~a?. ini'? teh s tsi-jfi'htilcet inuk pdhni'hseh. ld'?tin Ibii~nd'hsMn w&'?si?ki'Ihsinunin. iniwi'n teh dnd'tsin, 'nand'?, yo'rm 'us&'mat ds-,iv'hk-ah pi'hkimii'na?tew; ki'nah ap m~'sih,' ind'win. iniwi'n teh $ ind'sinamu'watsin as wli'?8i?ki'hsinenik. pAyd' k~wAts wi'nah inuh ki?sj'hseA ndhd'nisit tsi-M6'?tsitsihldi'hsin6'sah; ini? teh s kjs-pake'tinam~wa'tsin inih pi'hkimi'na?tew. "Ad'w, m is~i'k, nina-nd'tin; mitsi ni'wu a~tew,' ind'win. iniwi n-pih Misi'Ic Mayct'SyAt, snaw&'2 niw. kaye-s-pyA'tdt inih pi'Akimi'na~tew, iniwi'n-pih teAl inih und'h mni's niw tsi-pj'hnakaA inih vnd'h; mfe~8i'h teA s kAta'w-vhsdtsi'nah; ini'9 tsi-pdtdi~ii'neA inih und'h. iniwi'n keh s d'nawj'Atuk- td-ki'9tinah ini'A. undA. kayisyd'Apits-ii'nawj'htu~k, n'i? ga?yd'A tsi-ma'tsyAt &-nd'AsAn as i~i'At. ini2-pih teh kAni'w tsi-miyii'wihsi'h ini's s nipd'tua? aninuh ond'hAsAN. iniwi'n keh dnd'tsin, 'd", nn',ipdt'hnitun y6'm nind'hA!' ind'win. ini?-pih &'nuw tsi-wi'7bkwAtsij'Atuk inuh wdskine'nit; A~Ay, ini'? niw ayd'Apits-d'nawt9'Atukua?. ini'?-piA wi'nua? j'h-akikuA ki?89'AsAk, tsi-kukke-'2tat inuh kPSe-'AseA, tsi-pd'kihsih inih pi'Akimi'na?tew; iniwi'n-pih tsi-kusk6'sit. iniwi'n teA s amd'tinatsin ani'nuh ume-'AsAn. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 579 "Well, and what were you trying to do, to quit eating right off, when you were at table?" "Why, you nudged me with your foot!" he answered his big brother. "I did not! It must have been the dog, I tell you; it kept going by there. It must have been the dog that pushed you with its foot as it went by," he told his young brother. The boy cried, weeping with hunger. "Well," he told him, "go and look for some bread; they put it in the cupboard; there is some jam there, too; the jam is in an earthenware jar," he told his little brother. To be sure, they did not talk loud; they whispered very quietly. So then the boy went off. "Walk quietly," the young man told him. When he had, in fact, found the bread, and the jam as well, the boy ate heartily. When he had eaten his fill of jam, then he thought, "My big brother can eat some of this jam, too," he thought. Then he stuck his hand into the jar and scooped out a handful, and walked off. There must have been two doors; here was where they slept; and right here, close by, was where the girls must have been sleeping. Then the boy went into that room. Yes, there lay his brother, his face showing light in the darkness. Then he said to him, "Brother, this jam is awfully good; do you eat some, too." Then he handed it to him where he lay with his face showing light. But really it was that little girl lying there in no other way than with her buttocks bare; and right there was where he laid that jam upon her. "There, I'll fetch some more; there is more there," he said to him. Off he went again, quietly. When he had got to the jam, he stuck his hand right into the container, to scoop out a good big handful; and then he got his hand stuck in the narrow neck of the jar. He was unable to draw out his hand. When he saw that he could not do it, he went to his brother. This time he found the right way to where he and his brother were sleeping. Then he said to him, "Oh, big brother, I've got my hand caught!" Then in vain did the young man exert himself; ho, they simply could not manage to do it. Meanwhile, as for those girls, that little girl must have turned over and lain right in that jam; then she woke up. She awakened her elder sister. 37* r, C)A a0v 580Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. xi] 'hiA, Md'2 teh wi'nah? /c'hnin lkki'ta-p&'paka,'milk!' imni'win nuh uhseMehs~n; 'aku'atsih itsi'Anun; sinawi2 niw7 ni-pimo'hnenun; aw~h-kisi'husi' nun.' iniwi'n keh s rn'tsiAt inuh ki?8~'hseh, sd'kit6'hnet; Icutdt'?nas8 teh niw ini2 as tsi'w-awjh-und-'pit s kisi'husit. nahi'w, ini2-pih, wi'nua? ap aki'Icuh nuh Wii'skine'nit yd'hpits ii'nawi'htuwatsin inih 8i'2sikwAn. 'nahW', tsiy&'w alku,'atsih i5i'Aluf,' ind' win anuh Us'mehs~n; 'ha'2san pa-ntdwa'pAmin; mni'9 tehl as a-pi'lkihnitawlan y~m 8V'2 -silcWAn,' ind'win. ni2-pih tsi-Ma'tSiAt pdhni'hseh, s&'kit6i'hnet, ku'atsih as pmim'ntiiw&'pumatsin a~sa'niAn. hdA, kd'2tin ini'win lktd'2na8 as wa'?8apit ha'2san; ini'wi'n s mi-nd'sehkawd'tsin. ke~tsi'h iniwi'n sa~yeh k,,ta'w-inim-wd'pinah nih 8V'2sikWAn; kAniWi"'n niw kaya-'litit. inu'sa? teh kisW'heh tsiw-d'wit. iniwi'n teh d'ts, 'y&Ah, kkn wehei'h mis8i'k nina-mi'tihkuAminan.,nu~hnd'2!' irnd'win. ini'? lceh niwl d'hkuAt,8iMiyen121. THE MIRACUWOUS HELPERS. nah&'w, kutd'2nas as wdwi'kitua2 pdmd-'tesitua2, tk"'?, aki'n imi'win teh as ki-matsyA'tua2, ki-w~h-anuhk~'tua2. d'2, inuh wi'nah,u~nii'"maw t8iw-a'wit, - tsi-mand'WAk aki'kuh ind'ni'WAk, - inuh uki'AIhsimaw. inuh pahki'sikanan uni'mdn kiw-usi'htvwe'win; uni'mdn 1ciw-a~tuwd'wi'n as a-nima-'nit aninuh uki'2sAn; ki-. nl~mdhd'uwin. d', inih-pih teh tsi-Ma'tsiAt inuh 62nd'Iksimaw, kutd'?nas teh ini? tsi-Miyii'hliwatsin w~'yAwejkehk5'hsAn. i'niwi'n teh et'kut ani'nuh wj' yAwelcehko-'h8An, 'lAn-a'2 nap, nu~h8i'h, kd'k~h as a-pimi'Atawan? nipu,'awi~tAm,' jwd'hin inuh Wj'yAWeIkeh. 'h&'w, ni'nah, ap keh wi'nah ni'kdita-n65'sjm,' &wd'hin inuh ina'niw. d'2,. alcum teh ii'neh ind'niwAk, ini'? niw ahpd'n niw dnd'tua? aninuh w~yAwikehke5'sAn. nahd'w, inih-pih teAl yd'hpit8 Uhsg'Mimaw, - nehd'nisiwin, inuh apdhni'hseh, - ini"wi'n teh s kiuw-wjsd'sit 'hd'w, lcine'&a? s6'h pas 'way~'hkihtawan!' ini? WMt inuh uki'AAsimaw. nahd'w, nik5'tds8 ii'? s pa~c~tinatsin anuch padhni'hsz~n. ini? tele tsiw-,u,8htuwatsin u~ni'mdn. inu'h teh apahrn'h8eh matsg'?-indnq'peh tegi-mehldi'h, ini'? teh skj'putukc. inih tdh d'wih-u&e1'htukua?, ahki'hih pa'me?neh 6's iniwi'n d'wih-us,8e'htukcua?. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 581 "Sister, I've dirtied myself in my sleep!" she told her. "Hey, what's that? Father will give you a good beating!" she answered her younger sister; "Go out of doors; walk real quietly; go off somewhere and wipe yourself clean." Then the little girl went from there, out of the house; she went some place to squat down and wipe herself clean. But as for those others, that young man could do nothing at all with that jar. "Well, you had better go outside," he told his little brother; "Go look for a big stone; then you can smash the jar against it," he told him. Then the boy went from there, out of the house, to look for a big stone out of doors. Yes, sure enough, at some place there lay a big stone, showing light in the darkness; he went up to it. He had come near and was just about to swing that jar against it, when suddenly someone cried out. It was none other than that little girl. She cried, "Oh dear; honestly, I'll never again dirty myself in my sleep, Father!" she said to him. That is as far as my story goes. 121. THE MIRACULOUS HELPERS. (Ahtaniwakesit) In a place where some people dwelt, those men used to go off to work. Well then, that oldest brother, - it seems there were many of those men,- the mother used to prepare a lunch of bread for him; she would give that son of hers some lunch, so that he would have provision on the way. When that oldest brother went forth, somewhere he met a little old woman. The little old woman said to him, "Please, Grandson, haven't you anything with you? I am hungry." "Why, I shall be running short myself," said that man. Now, those men, a number of them, that was what they always said to that little old woman. Then the youngest one of all, - a little boy he was, - that was when he was eager to go out to work. "Oh, so you are the one, forsooth, who is to succeed!" So spoke the mother. But after a time she let the boy go. And then she prepared his lunch for him. And the boy, finding a worthless old ax, then sharpened it. But as for the thing they were going off to make, a boat that sailed on land, that was what they were setting out to build. .582 ~82 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII Idiw, inih-pih teh tsi-Ma'tsiAt inuh apcdbni'Ib8elb, /ud'w, ini? teh as ts't-msya'hkicwatsin aninuib we' yAWkelhk'&5Afl. ha-'w, iniwi'n tekh a'lut, 'leAn-a'?~ nap, nuhsi'h, 1k4'k6/h as a-pimi'Atawan?' '&~A!'1 jwd'hin inul& apdhni'hseh. ini? as pakWt&'tah inih ulni'mn, as ahb8dma't5in WeyAWelcehk-5'hsAn. 'nalia'w, wawdt'nin, nuhsi'h,' ~wa'hin inuk w~'yAw~kehb; 'nahd'w, kina-wTh~-wi'hkihtun inih d'wih-us~'ltawan. umd'? teA aw-isZ'?ta yen: UMnA' I8 Ata' yen s a-nehka'A, ini9 as aw-pem6'Ibneyan, y6'm as awin6'hneyan td2 kd'taw-indi'kuhkwal& inik kimai'?tik5nem. misi'k mis a'pehtaw yem as aw-in6'lhneyan, nis teh nii'wi yaw, ini? s au'use'Itawan w~'kiwAm~'lbeh.' iniwi'n teh s nipfi't. nik6td's niw nandi'hilhsi& pdi'Ani'hseA, ta? iniwi'n s mdi'Anuw-nipa-t. iniwi'n teA s kusk&'sit; nipa'lkanih teh nipd'lwin. naha'w, ini? teA., mi'p iniwi'n as tei'pehtaW&'tsin andMnO'h8An; nehd'nisiwin andm6'Aseh. inih-pih teAb s sii'kit6'Anet, mniw~i'n teA s nad'mik inih Utiitti'tsikwAnan s &'winik. aninuh tah W~YAWikehk5c'hsAn iniwi'n kay~'s-ik&~, 'nahd'w, lcahpih teh kAta'W-Matsi'8ka'?tawan iniA ahki'AiA pd'me~"neh 6s, imi's mind'? mni? s awjh-n' uw~' yen; ini'? teh s a-lce'lkiti'yen, "d' hZ'!f" icinawit~d'n; ini? s a-miitsi'skak. nahd'w, akilkuh teib aw-inim-nd'watua? m&n'wa niw lkina-po's4&awAk.' mnis tatd'Akesiwan teh winal& lks-nawd'win nuh apdhni-'hsek as mdal-pimi'pisit. ini? inuh ind'niw nikut ka-ki'?tsiPehlkini'tsin aninuh mTe'?tikwAn. '&', dniwd'k kehb kits-tatd'Akesim!' ind'win inuh apd/&ni'hseh. 'd~A! P wd'lhin inuh ind'nsw. ~nahd'w, pt5'sinun,' ind'win inuh apdlbni'As8eh. ta?, ini? teh s p6'sit inuh ind'niw. 'ini'?, wdwd'nin!' jwd'hin; 'd'2, lkutd'2nas kd'k6A pu'anaman, nine'? aw-awj'yan,' &vd'hin inn/b ind'niw. j'?, m i? 8 mats yA'tna? misi'k. nik~td's niw s mdk-pim~'pisitua?, kAniwvi'n wiyAlk sd'hlkihsih. ta?, inn/b apdhni'hseh iniwi'n s nakct'?tAt. had', ta'? teA d'si?ta yen?' Jwd'Min nuh a~pd~bni'hseh. 96A, ayu~m-e'2 pahki'silkan maydk-nAt6'htawAk s a-Pits-Ikd'Atsikit.' 'dni'wd'k keh lkits-si'2sehtem!' 'nahd'w, kAn-e'? pas kip6'sinan?' 'nahd'w, wdw~' pats ninaw-pi3'sim,' Zwd'hin. Ad'w, misik tsi-mdtsyA'tua2, pimi'p'isi'tna? Misik, ini? mi8ik nikut tsi-ndw&'tua?. wi'nah ap teA wi'nah inim-mdk-mj't,8ihsowin; ahka'nuh pahki'sikanan as tsi-k&s-s'kwd'pi'ndtsin wi yAk, ini'? teA as m~'sik mini ahke-'w. C&A,~ td'? teA d'si?ta yen?' ind'win inn/b apd~wi'Aseh. 1928 Bloonfield, Menomini Texts 583 When that boy went off, he met that little old woman. Then she said to him, "Please, Grandchild, haven't you anything with you?" "Yes!" the boy answered her. Then he set down his provisions which he was carrying on his back, and gave the little old woman something to eat. "Now, thank you, Grandchild," said the old woman; "Now then, you will succeed in the thing you are going out to do. This is the way you will do: at the place you come to by nightfall, there you will walk along, pacing out the circumference your boat is to have. And then, pacing through the center of it, there, right in the middle, you will build a cabin." In that place then he stayed for the night. And once, when the boy turned over to lie comfortably, why, then he fell into a sound sleep. Then he woke up; he was sleeping in a bed. And then, early in the morning, he heard a little dog; it was a little puppy. When he walked out of there, he saw that thing which was his means of transportation. And the old woman had told him, "Now, when you want to set in motion that boat that sails on land, you will go stand at the bow and then you will cry out, saying 'Ah-hey!' Then it will start. And all the people whom you see on your way, you will take on board." Then the boy, as he sailed along, saw a strong-man. It was a man who was pulling out trees by the roots. "Why, you seem to be quite strong!" said the boy to him. "Yes!" said the man. "Very well, come on board," said the boy to him. So then that that man came on board. "Thanks to you!" he said; "Now, if anywhere you find anything too heavy for you, it is me you will use," said the man. Then they started again. At one time, as they were speeding along, there lay someone. Then the boy halted. "Why, what are you doing?" asked the boy. "Oh, I am listening to this wheat growing up through the ground." "You must have very sharp hearing." "Yes!" said he. "Well, could you come on board?" "Yes, I shall be glad to ride," said he. They started out again and were speeding along, and then they saw another man. This one was eating as he went along; where someone a long time before had scattered crumbs of bread, he was eating the earth. "Why, what are you doing?" the boy asked him. 05 8- 4 584Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII C A, nimdk~-mZ'tsin y~m ahs~~'u tsi-kis-aIhka'nul&-y6-pahki's8ikansAkwa' pini/s.' &'2, "iidk ks/s kits-ne/sh/-mi'tsi/sim,`'indi'win. ~naMd'w, k.An-e'2 pas kspo'8inAn?' ind'win nu/s apa/sni'/se/s. ta2, aninu/s as po'si/sa'tsin, ha'w, ini? as mats yA'tua? misi'k. /s&'w, ma'k- keh-nap-pima'slcatua2 Misil, kAniwi'n ks/s niw misi'k nikut wi' yAk kutd'?na8 paydpemu'atsin wi'skino'/sAn, ispi"mi'a/s. '/s6, tdi'2 teA di'si~ta yen?' ind~iwin inn/s ap4/sni'/se/s. 'Aw~'8kin6'/8Ak akim-e'2 payt'pimu'akua2.' 'h'w, 4niwa-~'Ik ke/s kits3-n&'pa~tem!' '/sa'w, kAn-e"? pas kip6'sinAn?' '/saw, wawj' pats!' a'ta2, ini'? ke/s misik as mats yA'tua. 6-', tsiw-is-mdk-pimd'8kAtua? m is i k, k Aniwi'n niw paya'pemi'pa/stuk wiyAk; yo,'win teA kaya' — ke/spisinit a~se'niAn u/ska'ti/s. 'sh',, iniwid'k ke/s kits-k~'/ki~tarn,' indi'win nut/ apdi/ni'lmh~/. wad'lci2 teAl wdi'h as aldi'pehski'situa? aku/s a~se'n yAk?' 45A, I MAI akum wii'pu~s5'ksAkc pim6'nisiha'k~a'?, nikiw-ned'mip5'sim teh wina/s; imi? te/s wdi'/ umA's as a'2nakua'? akum ase'nyAk; ini? teA ki-y6/s-w~'/ki/se'si yen s ki-nakii'2ta yen.' 'na/sd'w, p6 'sinun.' ta?, ini? te/s s p5'sihatsin mu/s ap/t/ni'/sse/s misik. hii'w, ini? misik s mats yA'tua?. Md'w, nik~td's niw as meik-nim-pima'skatua?, kAniwi'n niw netlc'skatua?. '/sI', ta'? te/s y5'm?' Zwii'/in nuh/ apcdhni'sse/s. iniwtin te/s andi'ptua? imi's mind'?; ini? tdi' s i'mi'sg anii'pitua?, iniwi'n wi' yAk s mdi'skitsi'1ssi/s. imis teA s inim,-po'twandi/tskt ini? s nakii'skatua?. W5Ah, p5'n!' ina'WAkin. k', imi? s ni'pi?tAt inn/s ind'niw. '/sediw, pyA'nun! kAn-ai'? PA8 kipe3'8inan?' ind'win nut/ apd/sni'se/s; 'td'2 te/s d'si?ta yen y5'm as ise-'?ta yen?' indi'win misik inn/s apethni'/sse/s. C& A, "wd'ki? y5'm tsiw-a'wik?" ini'? teA wa'h s nak&'ska?tawan,' ~wd'/sin mnu/ indi'niw. 'na/siw, p5'sinvn!' ina'win inn/s apd/n~snikeh. t&'?, ini? ke/s s iS-p6'sit. mni? td/s mayiitsyA'tua? Misik. na/si'w, mi'sik ini? s piAtei'tua2 ni'kut mini'kdn. iniwi'n teh as ktjs-a'2tawiki'tua'?. anu'win te/s md'waw kayes-awa Itsin aninuh kay~s-pis-aOsikina'tua? inn/s apd/sni'sse/s. inn/s teAl uk~mdw tsiw 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 585 "Oh, I am eating this earth, where it seems that some time ago this bread was scattered." "You surely seem to be a great eater," he said to him. "Yes," said he. "Well then, don't you want to come on board?" the boy asked him. "Very well," he answered. When he had taken that man on board, they started off again. As they were traveling along again, there suddenly was some person shooting at birds far up in the air. "Why, what are you doing?" the boy asked him. "Oh, I am shooting those birds!" "Well, you must be a very good shot!" "Yes!" said he. "Well then, don't you want to come on board?" "Oh, gladly!" So then they went on. As they again were traveling along, suddenly someone was running this way and that; he had stones tied to both his legs, like this. "You seem to be a mighty fast runner," the boy said to him. "Yes!" "Why are those stones tied on there?" "Oh, when I am pursuing these rabbits here, I always slide too fast; therefore I have put these stones here; that is what enables me to stop." "Well then, come on board!" So then the boy took him too on board. Then they went on. Then, at one time, as they were going along, they suddenly stopped in their course. "Why, what is this?" said the boy. Then they looked ahead there; and then, as they looked over yonder, there was one crouching on all fours. And as he kept blowing a stream of air from yonder place, they had stopped in their course. "Fie, stop!" they called to him. Then that man rose to his feet. "Come here! Don't you want to come on board?" the boy asked him; "What are you doing, acting that way?" the boy further asked him. "Oh,'What may this thing be?' was my thought, and so I brought it to a halt," said the man. "Very well, come aboard!" the boy told him. So then he accordingly came on board. Then they went on. Then they came to a certain town. That was where they entered a contest. They whom the boy employed were all those whom they had picked up on the way. The chief of that place made a contest 5, 8 6 586Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII dwtinis a8 we'kit, ini? as a'2takut inuh apaIhni'hseh s kAti'wmamu'alcut inih umd'2tik'nem aya-'wile. hd'wv, mnis takt ini~win a',ts inuht, inis nikut ina'nliWAn as tat&'hkesinit. inih tdih we'kiwAM iiwvi'n s a~tik, - isp*'kinin nih wZ'kiwam; -- iniwi'n teh uhk6'mdn as tsi-pdi'8its8Wd'pina'hkua2. inuh teh uk.j'mnw aydi'wit, wi'nal& util'sk-ineni'Aman inih uhk6'mndn Wipehtatv wi'hkihtawvin as pd'sitswvi'pinah inih uhk5'man. 'inisa'2 ni na'p!' 5wdi'hin inuh apxilni'hseh. ha'w, inuh apdhni'hseh anuk ut&'8kineni'AMAn, Anuh kay~ski'2tsipehken&'tsin Me~ti'kWAn, 'ha-'w, nia 't. pa'5it8wd'pnfah inih u~hk-'mdin.' '52. nahd'w, ni2a't. nina-nneiw&'tsihtUAMit?' ta?, mni? kdth wdi'?naw a'saw im~'win d'h~pakcitah hk'mdn inih inuh apdhni'hseh u~ti'8kineni'Aman. innh tih nkl'numiw ini'win a't, 'nahti'w, mitsi' niwv Id'ks5h ninawtta?, iniwi'n teh as ne?na'tua? pisa'hkiWAn ni's. i1nuh tdh ukg'mdn' Utti'8kineni'AMAn kah&pih waydi'pi?WtAta?, d'pehta ni8ik kitdmi'win ani'nuh pisdi'hkiwAn, inuh uk~'m-w utf2's3kineni'A,.man. a inu,'h teh wi'nah anuh pahlki'sikanan kaye-s-mun'atsin. ad, nt na kAts nita'wim!' jwd'hin. W'ta?, iniwi'n s W,'p-Mi'tsihsit; iniwi'n mci'waw as kitdmu'ats8in aninuh pisd'hlciwan. ha', kay~,s-aneg'hih inuh u~~meiw. 'misik ni' kd'k~h nina-icuW'?tarn,' jwdhin. ha?, nip~'w tsi-na'tulc; wa'?naw, teh &'wiwin nih nipe-'w. mni? teA, rndtsyA'tnua?, inuh teA mitfi'muh d'wiwan nlti'skineni'AMAn inuh u~c~mdw; ha', inuh teA apdilni'hseh aninuh uftu'skineni'AMAn kayi'hki?tAnit, aOseIniAn kayj8-aku'Ahpina'tssn uhldi'tih. J ', tsi-matsyA'tua?, kay&s-w~h-ku'ApahC'hkua? inih nip~'w, piswd*p'tua?, k-utui'?nas mni's3 innh mitd'muh, 'kAni'w!' ind'win aninuh in4'niwan apiikni'hseh utii'skineni'AMAn, Wti'mikcAt ihku'ah tsiwi't misi kenih,' iku'ahin. na'I?, ini? s sehkj'&tih inuh in/i'niw, as tasi'ahkawatsin innui mitul'muh umAs wj'nih, as ni'pdt. kaye-s-nip'lnit, ini?-~pih a?se'niAn ini? sq tsiw-a'?natsin and'miah, an'shki~akuAui'tin. ini?-pi/& tsi-wdi'pe-t inn/i mitui'muh. ha'w, inn/i apdi/ni'hseh, 'ha'?, ni'ku'n ni niw, pis-nd-'kisiw!' mad'win. inuh sayV'?sehtet?' Zwa-'/in inn/i apd/ini'/iseh. inn? teh aninuh pahki'sikanan kayjs-pehtdwd'tsin ini's y5'win a si?tat, ahki'hih ka'skipu,'tsiket, y5's ahki'hih s pehtdwu'sit. iw&'hin. 'Iui'w, ha'n? teh innh kay&~-asiyui'?niminah? - h3', asiya'?nimin inuk mitai'muh!1' 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 587 with the boy, wanting to take his boat from him. He said that a certain man there was very strong. Where a certain house stood, very high was that house, - over the top of it they were to throw an iron bar. That chief's henchman succeeded in throwing the iron halfway across. "Is that all?" said the boy. Then the boy, to that helper of his who had uprooted the trees, "Come, friend, pitch that iron across." "Oh, very well, friend, do you suppose that will be any trouble for me?" And so he flung the iron bar way over yonder, a long distance beyond the far side, did that boy's helper. Then the chief said, "Very well, another thing I shall try. We shall eat," he said. Then they killed two oxen. And the chief's henchman, when they started, ate up only half of his ox, did the chief's henchman. But the one who had eaten that bread, said,."Oh, let me be the one!" Then he began to eat; he ate up all of that ox. When the chief was beaten, he said, "I shall try something else." They were to fetch water; far away was that water. They set out; the chief's helper was a woman, and the boy's helper, the runner who had tied stones to his legs. They started off, and when they had drawn the water there, and had run back to a certain spot, the woman said to that man, the boy's helper, "Wait a bit! It seems to me there is a louse on your head," she said to him. So then that man lay down, and the woman busied herself with his head until he fell asleep. When he had gone to sleep, she laid under a stone to pillow his head. Then that woman ran. Then that boy was told, "Why, only one is coming into sight!" "Something must be wrong with our friend," he said; "Where is that keen-eared person?" asked the boy. Then the one who had listened to the wheat, did like this, scratching the ground and listening. "Oh, our friend is asleep," he said; "He is snoring," he said. "Well, where is the one who blew us back? - Oh yes, blow back that woman!" 598 588Publications, Amnericatn Ethnological Society Vol. Xli i' 2, iniwin leek winak inuk as awek-rna'sleitsi'ksik inuk ind'niw. Md'w, inuk tek mitd'muk iniwin ayai'k&pin as pa&'Pektsik. &i'w, inuk tek naya'pa~tet, inu,'win tehk la y6-pimu'atsin Aninfuk a~se 'niAn. iniwin tek s leusle6'sit inuhk la ye-s-ni~pdt. iniwin-pik teA pis-wd'pit. ta2, iniwi'n leek, nd'2tam winak ke-'s-piAt, ini? as Ues - ant'kik inuk uki~'rnii. ini? leek e'hlcik. 122. SWORDSMAN. (nektsi'wiktuk) k&'w, rnini'lcdn aOte'win, mai'ts-mini'kain;- nileu't tek apdkni'ksek neMd'2s niw di'wiwin; o'knAn Ulei'yAn We'MAtAn, rnd'wa niw utdi'nawim&'leanan ke-'s-nip6'nin. kawi'n kutd~'?nas leiw-ak&shud'nan inuh apdikni'ksek. leak ni'w leutdi'2nas as mnArndi'net, meksZ'wAn as leWsleakak s P~'2sileakak, ini'win as leiw-ak-sa-'mikh. nileu't inuk we'leiwAm as lee'si~tAt, mneksjwAn as use'ktule, ini'win as lei-mZ'winisikuk. ho'w, ini'?-pih misi'le lea yd'nituh tsi-leiw-isi'At, lei-papxd'm-ntdi'wanu'kleit. ka'w, misi'le ii' win s leiw-an5'nik, rnekse'WAn as ape-'2siealeak, s a-mandi'knet; ini'win leik na'p as lei-mi'twiksit. leawi'n wi'nah kdt'lekj li-mindi'nan pas tepa&'k~k; ini'? nisi'le niw umi'tsik5WAfl wayi'hkliktule inuk aptikni'kseh. pakPis leak d' win mdni'waw ma yd~'2sehklak ani'nu w/'ei mn, k-awi'n leutdi'?nas anon&'nan ini's s minikcinj'fike. nakhi'w, saf?ya'k ni'w~uleun leawin kd'lekh um~'tsinan as pu,'awi'?tAt mni's s minile&ne wik. ka'w, kutdi'2nas na'p ini'win s ki-ni'pdt; ini'win dndi'nihtak 8a? yak nilk6'td8s 'nak& 'w, tsiy&' ea-h pas nimdi'tsiAmn; wai'?na'w pas nitd$'siAM; nds niwv ikpi'k ndi'pi yen, pa ytt' Ai?ta yam., aw —' wiw.' ind'niktA'min. ayipkini'win-pik nd'p imi'naleak, - y&'kpits isleu'AtS ini'win as a'9tele wj'leiWAM, - ini'win ini'M-iSiAt apdkni'ksek, mi'p. ked'w, ni-pi'Atdt inik w~'leiwAm, i'sleu'Ahtemik ini'win ndng'puwit as leYtak as lkAtdw-p~hI'kilet. leAni'win niwl pits-sd'leit5'knet inuk ind~i'niw 'ka-'w, pekniksd~'k, &'2-tdk-naleah isi'"yen?' ina'win. ay6'? ledh ni'nak ap s papJ'mukmni'yan!' 05A~ ikeu'ahin, 'leAnli'? tdhk pas k,-im&a'nekne'nan? leina-tepii'kun,` ileu'akin apakni'ksek. 'khiw, nina-mandeIknem,' indi'win. 'khi'w, pyA'nun; pis-mi'tsiksinun,' ileu'akin. ini'win-pik apdhkni'ksek payi'ktieet. 'i'dw, mi'tsihsinu'n,' ileul'ahin ani'nuk ind'niwVAn. ini'win leak apdhkni'kseh as mi'tsiksit. nim&-'?, wdi'ktsita le4'2tin ini'win ndi'sledn! ta?, ni'wuleun leawin led'le~k um~'tsinan apdhkni'ksek. lea ys-anik-mi'tsiksit, ini'win-pik sayi'leit6'knet. 'naki'w,i peknikhsd'k, ann'? ledh a-le'sleaka'man. md'waw les 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 589 ' So then that man went and crouched on all fours. Then that woman fell always on the same spot. And the sharpshooter, he was the one who shot that stone. Then he awoke who had been sleeping. Then he came running. So then, when he got there first, the chief was beaten. That is the end of it. 122. SWORDSMAN. (Nehtsiwihtuk) There was a town, a large town; a boy was there all alone; his father, mother, and brothers, all his relatives had died. Nowhere was that boy given anything to eat. Only after he had cut wood somewhere and had sawed it and chopped it small, then would he be given food. When he had finished making fire-wood in any one house, then he would be driven away. Then he would go to another house, looking about for work. There too he would be hired to cut up logs into firewood; that was the way the poor boy got his food. He was never given anything by way of payment; all that boy got was his food. When in time he had gone to all the houses, he was given no more work there in the town. Then for four days already he had eaten nothing, going hungry there in the town. He used to sleep some place or other thereabouts; and then once he thought, "Now, I had better go away from here; suppose I go far away; it does not matter just when it is that I die of hunger," he thought. On the next day, then, over yonder, - far out at the very end of the town stood a house, - to that place the boy went, early in the morning. When he reached that house, he stood by the door, afraid to enter. Then soon the man of the house came out. "Well, boy, where are you going?" he asked him. "Oh, I am just tramping about here." "Is that so?" said the other to him; "Would you be willing to cut some wood? I will pay you," said the other to the boy. "Yes, I will cut wood," he answered him. "Very well, come and eat," the other told him. Thereupon the boy went into the house. "Now eat," the man told him. So then the boy ate. And truly, 4t was high time! For four days the boy had not had anything to eat. When he had done eating, he went out of the house. "Now, boy, these logs here are what you will saw. When you have 590 590Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII kWskaha'mnan, ini2-pih a-pdi'yakvu'A~tawan ~'h-anum mnehsg' wan. ini2-pih tdh a-tepcd'ho-nan,' iku'ahin ap'ihni'hsel& upu~swa'mAn. I&&'w, ni'wukvcn tdh mand'hnewin; ini'win-pih md'waw wayi'hkcihtuk ani'nvuh mehs~wan. hdi'w, mi'p ayd'wvik, 'ini'win s Idi'2t8-mi'tsihsit. kayjs-anih-mnits3ihsit, ini'wvin-pih td'pahulcut ani'nuh upiiswa'man apdlhni'h,8eh.- uhpdtsi'8w1An niwu'Ahtik tipii'Ihkin; ha-,w, rnisi'k kW'hk6Isn tipa'hukin vpuswav'rnAn. 'I&&'w, ini'2!' iku'ahin. 'hd'w. kAn-d'Q pas kimn~'sinan ikd'lc~h nitd'kiurn-?' 'hd'lwkina-m~'nin, apdhni'hseh.' MAtse'-wa-'puwiyan mZ'nikin. hd'w, misi'k kd'hkap nt6'tam~wd'win. h&'w, ini'win kdh misi'lc as rne~'nilkut. AI~dw, misi'lk ld'1c~h i8Zh-.ku'Apah~kan nt6'tam~wd'win, nip~'w as a.-kw-mi'ndlk. a-'ta2, apdlhni'hseh. hd'w, kayis-IcWsihtuk inih wd'wVAS ini'win-pih maya'tSiAt apdhni'hseh. hd'w, miyii' sikAS utsi'ke?siah ina'lcah is-mdtsqi'win apdhni'Ihseh. e ki'sih d"'hkwah tsi-pim6'hnet, d'ta'?, kutd'?nas nd'Ihkah nipj'w as nd'mikI, ini'win as ni'pdt nehldi'nemit. kayjs-pehlk6'na'h wij'was, ini'win as mi'tsihsit. 1caye-s-anih-mi'tsihsit, ini'win-pih nd'pa-t apdhni'hs3e. d', sa,,yeh [pa ydtskinakwah, ini'wvin -pih k6'skusit [pdhni'hseh. 'hd'w, nitd'wats-mNi'sihsim; kjs-ani'A-mi'tsihsi yen, ini'-pih misilc a-mdtsi'yen,' inds'nihtAmin. Ad'ta2, kayeis-anih-mi'tsihsit, ini'win IkdA misi'Ic as M&'tsiAt. Miyd' sikas utsi'ke~siah is-Mdtsi',,n apdhni'Aseh. hA y, ki'seh d'hkwaIh pim6'Anet, ni'wukun tdh kUs-pim5'Ahnewin apthni'Aseh. kawin kd'1k6h mi'hikan umd'teminan; miyd' niw utsi'ke~siah is-md'tsi'win. sayd'h nilk6'tds as mdk-p&'pim6'hnet, salca'nah naya-'wahkik, imi's mind'? dnd'pit, wj'k-iwAm ini'win as nd'mik. 'ha-'w, wd'nit6'wAk aya-'wit ~'h-ayum wayj'kit?' ind'nihtAmin apdhni'hseh. payi'Atd-t inih w~'kiwxnm, isku'ahtemih ini'win ni-ndn.~'puwit; kAni'win wd'Atsimit wi'yAk inis pi'htik: 'Adt'w, td'? IdA, siMd'kdw, ayi'si kapuwZ' yen inis sku'ahtemih? pi'Atike'nun!' iku'ahin. had'ta?, ''nitowAlk ina'kah wdA-kehke'vawift J'A a yum?' WV'11ihtAmnin apdhni'AseA; s3imdkd'w ind'Win inuh a~pdhni'AseA; inj'2 uwi'hsWAn. payi'htiket, mitd'muhAskl hF' WiVA' kin; ni",'wAkin tdh aki'kuh mild'mu~hsAk ini's ts3i-wdwj'kitua2. 'hA'iv, ms'sAsi'kw'iku'ahin aninuh mzitd'muhsAn. J'ta?, simd'kdw as misd'hs'iA, nimd'2, wehtsita' niw kd~tsi'A inib'win s pits-apj'2takut ani'nuh mitd'~AtsAn. dA, y6'win ni Iciw-ind'pumikut, ke?tsi'A as uhsd'pumikut ani'nuh mitd'muhsAn. A'w, simd'kdw as papdmd'tesit! td'? teA so6'A,pd'pa-ind'hkayani, simd,'kdw?' iku'ahin. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 591 sawed them all, then you will neatly pile up the firewood. And then I will pay you," the boy was told by his employer. Then for four days he hewed wood; then he had finished all those logs. Early that morning he ate a big meal. When he had done eating, his employer paid him. He gave him in payment four loaves of bread; and his employer gave him also some pork. "There, that is it!" the other said to him. "Now, could you please give me something or other in the way of a blanket?" he asked him. "Yes, my boy, I shall give you something." He gave him a worthless old blanket. He asked him also for some twine. This too the other gave him. He asked him also for some kind of dipper to drink water from. The other gave him this also. When he had given him these things, then the boy made his pack. When he had arranged his pack, the boy set out from there. The boy started straight toward the north. After walking all day, when evening overtook him, he camped for the night somewhere where he found water. He untied his bundle and ate. When he had eaten, the boy slept. It was broad daylight when he woke up. "First I shall eat; when I have eaten, I shall start out again," he thought. When he had eaten, he set out again. He walked straight toward the north. He walked all day, and did so for four days. He did not follow any road; he walked due north. Then at one time as he tramped along, towards noon, when he looked ahead yonder, there he saw a house. "I wonder who it is lives here," thought the boy. When he reached the house, he stood there by the door; then soon someone called out from within, "Well, Swordsman, why do you stand round by the door there? Come in!" that person told him. "Why, I wonder how this person comes to know me!" thought the boy; Swordsman he was called; that was his name. When he entered, there were women; four was the number of those women who dwelt here. "There, be seated, Swordsman," those women told him. When Swordsman sat down, lo, very close to him did those women come and sit. And they kept staring at him, inspecting him at close range. "Why, here is Swordsman traveling about! What is your purpose in going about, Swordsman?" they asked him. 592 592Publications, American Eth&nologiical Society 'Vol. XII o A, na'sap kdih niw nip&dpdmd'tesiM,' 'ind'wvin. o,A~d, simd'kduw s papamd'te8it!' ilcu'ahin. d', nik6ti's aya'wik, 'hM'u. ini'? sa?ya'h s kAtdw-md~tsi'yen,' euwd'hin simdi'kdw. ha'w, ta?, ini'win-pik7 saydi'kit6'Inet simii'kiw. h&'w, y&'hpits pZ'1cuskcawin Up~'Ase14a'kan; md'wa ni'w up5'?sehklakanan pe'kuskawanin; umii'hkesi'nan, uwi'aIhkwAn ya'IApits p~'kvuskawanin. ini'h UWi'AI&IWAnh as talbta'wilceh w~tne?nan misa 's niw sa'Iiknenu'nin, tsiwahpJ'ts-1kitimd'kesit apdAnt-'hsel&. khi'ta2,5 we'WA kay&s-mAmd'k, itni'win-pi& rniy6'kital& as ma'tsiAt. d', aki'kuk mita'mulh8AJ kawin p6'ts vti5'I-ki'litinu'wawan as ma'mahlkAta'rnI~ta'Akua2 as kitdmii'inu/ umj'/isimaw tsiwli'wit, - fli'SiWAflif u/ise're/isAn, u/ci'ya/is85wawan teh mi'sik; ini'win a'/ita/isitua2, - ini'wifl a'ts mu/i umj'hisimaw, 'ha-i'w, ne?i'/i, ni/di'2ts-sawi' nimaw j'/i-ayum simdi'kaw as papamd'tesit. pina'/i, ne?d'/, nimsuni'AnmMAn W1~S nime-'ndw; kutd'2 -nas mint/din pi'Atdt, a-tep&'/iam up6'?se/i/alcanan,' ~Wdi'/ininmuhi Miti'mu/i. ~hAnita'/, pas kim~'ndw; /kine'9 kisiinyA'neM.AkI' ina-'win wjyAwkehke//c'/bse/ uti'nan. an'i'mu/inewin simm'kdiw. Ut?, na/di'2tawin sima'kdiw as ts'?napj' s/e./~~ Mit'm/ 8swas nj'puwi'wvin. ini'win wdi/i-kmitna-'tsin u-sunyA'nemAn. pdi'IewiydI'naskimutj'/ise/ ii'pehta'waskine'win sun yA'flA/C. sadwi'nimidnka'w, kim~'nin.i'/-akwrn nisunyA'neMAk-. k-ikd'?ts8awd'iminumAS s papdmd'tesi yen. kutd'?nas8 mini'ldin pi'Atd'yanf, kip5'?se/ikakca'nan kina~w-tip&Md'nan, as aw-p6?sai'/iaman. Z'hiakum tdh nisiinyA'neMAk mayj'ninan, /ka/pi'i /di'k&/i kAtdw-tipa-'/aman, kinaw-u/hsitsina-'wAk e'/h-akum s3flm',AnAk as a-tip&/a/hdk'yan. k-An ni/k6'tu/h kinaw-md'2tinanu'wawan ~'h-akum sun yA'fAk;, y6'? J'ta2, sima'/dwu um~ti'/~ish ini'win as piZ'/nahza'tsin wusfnyA'InemAn. mayd'tsiAt, pa yi'At t insih WZ'was, mniwi'n-~pi/& mayal't~iAt. inu/ misi'k ni/cut mita'mu/i iniwin d'ts, UhA, ne?a"'h,. nina/i a'p 1The word for 'coin' is here of animate gender, probably because maagic coins are meant; but the word seems otherwise also to occur in animate form. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 593 "Oh, I am simply traveling for no particular reason," he told them. "Well, well, and so Swordsman is traveling!" they said to him. Then once, "Now then, it is time for me to be going," said Swordsman. "Very well," they told him. So then Swordsman went from the house. Now, his jacket was all torn; all his clothes were worn to rags; his shoes and his hat were all worn out. His hair stuck out in many places through the holes in his hat, in such a pitiful state was the boy. Well then, taking his bundle, he swung it on his back and started forth. Those women did not speak at all, wondering at the pitiful state in which he was journeying. The oldest one, - she had two younger sisters; and then their mother; that was the number of them, - that oldest sister said, "Now, Mother, I greatly pity this Swordsman as he travels about. Please, Mother, let me give him my money; when he comes to a town anywhere, he will buy some clothes," said that woman. "Yes, Daughter, you can give it to him; it is your money," the little old woman answered her daughter. Thereupon the woman ran out of the house. When she looked over yonder, there was Swordsman walking off. "Hey, Swordsman!" Swordsman came to a halt and looked. There stood the woman. Then, "Hello, come here, just come here a moment!" she called to him. Then Swordsman put down his bundle from his back and retraced his steps. When he got there, he entered the house again. The woman opened her box; from it she took her money. It was a canvas bag half full of coins. "Now, Swordsman, I give you this money of mine. I greatly pity you as you travel about. When you reach a town anywhere, you will buy yourself some clothes to put on. Now this money of mine that I am giving you, whenever you want to buy anything, you will take out a handful of these coins to pay with. You will never use up this money; this purse you have here will always be exactly as full as it is now," she told him; "So there, put it into your sack; and now go, Swordsman." So then Swordsman put his money into his bag. When he had gone from there and had come to where his bundle was, he set out. Then another of those women said, "Oh, Mother, I too feel great 38 594 594 ~Publications, American Ethnological Society Vl l Vol. XI] ldih nikdi'2ts-sawd'nirnaw agurn sim&'Iadiw; Pina'h, ne2&'h, ni/c&kitupi'hikan kAt8 ltiMe~'ni7w. k'utdi'?nas minilkdn~l'ik pyA',tat, wi'yAfl namu'Aklcut inih Sft'niAn. pas ne'~nikAx' ind'wiin ani'nqu(h aki'yAn. 'hd'w, nita'h, pats kimuiutiw; kinds's kilc:,'kitupi,'hikan, (ylYa'ik.` 1c?2s~'hseh sa'kit~sipahta'wt~in. '4h y, kmdAcw. pyAniu'n, pyAnu'n!' indt'win. i'ta2, simd'ldiw ya-h-wask~win. pi8-pi/Atat, pi'htiket, ki~sj'hseh umai'hkah wina'h ap awejh-p&'hkcahamin, Icitd'nah uakdi'litupi'hikan. 'hd'w, simldkd'w, kild-'2t8-8awd'nimin as papdm&'tesiyen. nina'h ap 1ktdh 1kim~'nin Mh-y5'rn nikdi'litupi'hikan. lkutc'i'na8 s mt'iknjcn'wikc piAta'yan, wi'yAk lcAta'w1-ne~ni1h, ini'-pih a-kai'kitupi'haman ehy6'm nikdi'kiltupi'hikan, nahii'w, in~i'kuh niw ini's Ike tgi'h aw-i'tua2 pdmdi'tesitua2, m&'wa niw a-ne'mowAkc ikAn IW'yAl n&'n pas up6'ni~ta'nan; ini'2 niw aw-is3is-pi'hkihsimitva2.,' indivwin; 'h&'wl,' /&dAta?, simdi'kdw p.j'hnahamin umiiti'hsi'h ukdi'kcitupihikan. rn&'tSiAt. payi'Atat iW'was. nim-nawa'tinA'min. ma'tiAt. hi'w, inuh IkisWhseh uhs~'rniraw ya-'hpits, tsiw-&'wit ini'win dndi'tsin wina'h ap uki'yAn, 'ha-', ne~dei'h, ninah a'p lkdh nina-saw4'nimaw sim&'lkaw; nimdi'hkesi'nan nikdi'te-m~'rndw,' inhi'win ukcsyAn.,utd'nan weyAwejkehkco'Iseh. sad'lits3ipalta-'win; ~A y~ wd~'2na' w sa~yd'h imi'win as arui'muhnet simd'lkaw. 'hjA Y, simaktAW, pyAnUlAn! h&', sima 'icw nalc&'2tawin. ~nahui'w, nildi'2ts-ut&'mihikuk i'h-a/cum Mita'MUhsAk.' ~wi'hin simd'kdiw as yd'h-waskcit. payi'Atat, ni-pi'htikewin. kiPsZ'hseh wina'h ap umJ'hlkah p&'I&lkaha'min. nim uA, usbi'h-mahlkd'sinan &'wiwanin inuh ki~se'Iheh, 'IiW, sim'keiw, ninah a'p lcdh kisa-we'nimin as papaimu~tesi yen. kluta'2nas se~pe' WpiAtd'yan, akdi'miah l~ad'w-isVyen, ini'2-pil& j'h-anwum a-p~5sdi'hkaman nimai'hesi'nan; wahlki'tsipilc Iina-pem'h-. nem. alka'miah lkts-piAta' yan, ini'2-pih a-lki'2sehkdaman,' ilku'ahin sgimcd'kaw Ak~sj'IhAn; 'Iui'w, kimiiti'hsih pZ'hnahak; icAta's mdt~ti'ah,' ilku'ahin. haAta2, simci'Ikiw iniwi'n mayd'tsiAt, w~'was ni-nawii'tinah. hiiw, inuh w9' yAW~eleI&Ic'hseh wina'h ap ini'win Wits, 'nahd'w, nita'h, nine't tNA 6'h nisi'Ic /kAf as a-sRawdi'nimakc? ninalh a'p lceh nikti'tu~hpwAnilc nina-me miw.' lhi'w, ne~ei'h, kindi'? lcita'tulhpwA'nik; pas 1kimind'w.' ilcu'ahin wjyAwelkehk5'hseht utdi'nan. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 595 pity for this Swordsman; please, Mother, let me give him my musical instrument. When he comes to a town anywhere, and people see his money, they might kill him," she said to her mother. "Yes, Daughter, you may give it to him; it is your musical instrument." The young woman ran out of the house. "Hey, Swordsman, come here, come here!" she called to him. Swordsman went back. When he got there, he entered, and the lass went and in turn opened her box and took out her musical instrument. "There, Swordsman, I greatly pity you as you travel about. So now I for my part am giving you this musical instrument of mine. When you come to a town anywhere, if anyone wants to kill you, then you will play on this instrument of mine. Then, as many people as are close by, all of them will dance; no one will be able to stop before it is over; in this way they will dance themselves to death," she told him; "There," she said to him, "now go!" So then Swordsman put his musical instrument into his bag and went from there. When he came to his pack, he picked it up and went on. Then in turn the girl who was the youngest of them all said to her mother, "Oh, Mother, I too shall help Swordsman; I want to give him my shoes," she said to her mother. "Yes, Daughter, you may give them to him; they are your shoes," said the little old woman to her daughter. She ran out of the house; oh, far off there, by this time, was Swordsman walking yon way. "Hey, Swordsman, Swordsman, come here!" Swordsman came to a halt. "Well, these women are greatly delaying me," said Swordsman, retracing his steps. When he had gone all the way, he entered. The girl in her turn opened her box. Why, new shoes were that girl's shoes. "Now, Swordsman, I too feel pity for you as you travel about. When you come to a river anywhere, and want to go to the other shore, then you will put on these shoes of mine; over the surface of the water you will walk. When you get to the other side, you will take them off," the girl told Swordsman; "There, put them in your bag; now go," she told him. Then Swordsman went, picking up his bundle on the way. Then the little old woman in turn said, "Well, Daughter, shall I be the only one not to take pity on him? In my turn I shall give him my tablecloth." "Of course, Mother, it is your tablecloth; you can give it to him," her daughters told the little old woman. 38* 596 596 Publication~s, American~ Ethnological Society Vol. XII,sayii'litsi'pahtuk, w~Ay, wd~ndi'w sa~yd'h imi'win as n-ft s3imd'kdiw. hAA JA y, pyAnfli'n, pyAnfluAn!' hkI'ta2, sim&'k-dw, 'h&,'h, dniw~tk ldih nit~ttd'rihikuk ~'h-akumt w~'was ini'win d'Yhpakitah a~dhkiih, ydh-waskcO'. hd', payiA'tdt, ta2, pi'htikewin. wi'nah ap We' YAWekehlc'hseh urn&'hlkah p&'hlkahamin; ini'win wdth-litdi'nah vta'tuhpwAnik. 'ha'w, simd'kdw, M~-y5'm nita'tUhpwAntik kim~'nin. kikdi'2t8-8awvi'nimin nina'h ap, ppdindi'tesi yen. kuta'2nas kAtaw-M~'tsihs8'yen, ini'2-pih ~Ih-y6'm ahki'1hih aw-a'2tawan.' 'kis-s8iski'kinaman, ini'9-pih a-qvj'htaman inih is~kin a-kAtdiwm~'tan. ma'waw kUs-wz'htaman, y6'? as aw-a'2telc atu,'IpwAnih<' sih p~'Ihnahah.' simd'kdw ta2 Umiiti'As~ih iniwi'n s pi~'hnahah, m'MtsiAt. hdi'w, payi'Atdt inih w~'was, '/7,ta') teh y6'm tsi-w-ap ~ taman n#~'was?' ina'nilhtAMifl. nik6tUi's keh ini'win-pih ma ya'tiAt as nilca'tah inih wj'was vni'm~n. pdpim6'hnet, ~A, ki'seh d~tvhcah, &A, nik~t4's keh niw, - 8a~yd'h Ikjs-pimniw-anih-nd'wahkO~win, - 'hM', ini'2 Iceh as nipdi'yan,' ina'nihtA'min simdi'1a-w; 'n&'?s kay&s-pa~c~taman inih nni'man!' ~wda'hin, pu'awi-Otat. kawi'n uka'hkinanan inih Utii'tUhpWA'nik as kRs-m~'niI&. iniwi'n lceh s sdi'sehNc'hs3ih. hdi'ta2, 'y&'? kdih niw s a-ni pa'yan, pu'awi~tayan,' jw&'1hin simii'kdw, ki'kitut&'8it. nik~td's leek ini'win as mehldwiw'nilhtah inilh vta'tulhpU'Anik% pmi'mi-kiO'namin umiiti'lsih. hd'w, ini'win ich k. as s3isli'kinah inih atfii'hpWAnilc. h&'w, ini'win-pih wayij'htah lcdi'taw-ina4'htsiket; m&'wua ni ldi'k~h wZ'htamin tqi-kAltiW-inii'htsilket. nilk~ti's leeh niw, y.5m dnei'pahtah inih IUt&'tulhpu'Anik, nim&'2! undi'kanan yai'Api'ts m8'skine'win, m~'sim, mii'wa ni ldi'lkh as tsiw-a'2tilc. 'nima'2,I nimai'2, tdi'? teh winah na'p y5'm?' inei'n'ihAmin simi'ldiw. h&'~w, iniwi'n, kih s6'lh ni pd'ts niw as mi'tsihsit. tsiw-a-palej,'taman y6'm di'skvwahta'man misile anum. nit~nai'kanan? jw&'hin sim&'ldiw. ha-'w, nilk~td's leek ni'pi~tawin; isleu'a~ts3 ini'win as tii'pinah inik ut&'tuhpWAnik as ispe-wa"'pinah: leawin kct'lekh ani'nuh, und-'kanan; ini'win s ki'nawapaktah. 'nimdi'2, le4'2tin led'h niw nisdwdt'nimile inuk W~'yAw~ekleW'hseh!' ~w&'hin, payd'leunah, umiiti'hsih as Pe'knahak, ma'tsiAt ssma'lew. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 597 When she ran out of the house, dear me, far, far away by this time was Swordsman going along. "Hey, come here, come here, come here!" As for Swordsman, "Ha, these women are surely delaying me!" Then he threw his bundle to the ground and went back whence he had come. When he had gone all the way, he entered the house. The little old woman in turn opened her box; from it she drew her tablecloth. "Now, Swordsman, I give you this tablecloth of mine; I too feel great pity for you as you travel about. If in any place you feel like eating, you will lay it on the ground," - the tablecloth was folded up into a roll, like this, - "and when you have spread it out, then you will name the kind of thing you want to eat. When you have named all of it, right here it will be, on the table," she told him; "And that bundle of yours you will discard," she told him; "There, put it into your bag." So Swordsman put it into his bag and went on. When he came to where his bundle lay, "Why should I discard this pack of mine?" he thought But in the end he did go off and leave that pack of his in which he had his provisions. As he tramped along, all day, then, at one time, - it was already well after noon, - "And now I am as good as dead," thought Swordsman; "But of course I had to go and throw away my supplies!" he said, for he was hungry. He did not think of that tablecloth that had been given to him. So there he lay resting. "And so this is where I die of hunger," said Swordsman, talking to himself. After a while he thought of his tablecloth. "Well, come to think of it, I have been given a tablecloth." He took it out of his bag. So now he unfolded that tablecloth. Then he named what he wanted to eat; he named all the things he wanted to eat. Then, suddenly, as he looked at that tablecloth of his, lo and behold, it was all covered with dishes of all kinds of food. "Dear me, dear me, what is all this?" thought Swordsman. So then he ate his meal in all due form. Then, when he had had his fill, "But how am I supposed to do this? Am I supposed to leave this food I haven't eaten and these dishes of mine?" said Swordsman. Finally he got up; he took hold of his tablecloth at one end and jerked it up in the air: gone were those dishes; they disappearedfrom his sight. "Dear me, that little old woman really did take pity on me!" he said, and, folding it up, put it into his bag and walked on. r-, 9 8 a 98Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol1. xi] &l'ta?,,nilc~td's keh niu'- misi'k imi'nakah inj.'pit. h&,'wv kxni'win. kii'h niwv wIVyAn naydwji'tsin ina'niWAIIn. hWI'. bli's w1inah a,'SiAt. ini'win api'ts as nahki'skati'tua2. 'naha-'w, ni~a't. 7'2-teh-nalcah asi'yen? 'hftw, ta'?, nipdpdimj'tesim ke'h niw. ta2-nak, 6'h ki'nah dsi'yen?( ta'9, ninah a'p kiih nipapamja'tesimn,' iku'ahin sirna'kaw ani'nn,(h wit'rnatan; 'h&' wt. lcina-pap& 'wm- W45ti'Ahti9.' iku 'ahin in'kw.hoiw!' ind'wvin, 'waw46i'ahlitua?. pa'hpis kah a'win sa~yd.'h nik5'tds sip'i'ahseh as nd'mtiknaa2. 'nah&'w, ni~a't. k'-Ats kitd'wats-mi'tsihs3i?,' ika,'ahin simi'kWw, wev,'matan. md't~s-wj,' w~as 2'itwiin inuh ind,'niw inih uni'mc-0in. ind'wn ind'ni'w m~'-pind' narnin inih w~ was s kAtd'w-pehk6'nah. 'hd'w. ni~a't, nip~'wv a-wd-ku,'Apahah, iku'ahin sirn&'kdw e' matan. 'si'h, ni~a't,' ind'win. 'kayd'nit nina'h nikiwv-isW'tam as kirni'tsihsi yen,' ind'win. h&t'w, y6'win niw dnd'purni'kut we'matAn. 'hd'2 teh kiw-isj'?tayan?' iku,'ahin. 16A, umd' 2 keh kiw-isj' 2ta yen s ki-mi'tsihsiyen. pmi'm-kit'namin inih utd'tuhpwA'nik, siski'kinah. hd'w, kay~,ssiski'kinah inih utd'tuh~pWAnik, ini'win-pih waye-'htah aw-inai'htsiketua?. md'wa ni kd'k~h wj'htamin, pahki'sikan, uhpdtsi's~w, m0'timj'hs8eh, rnd'wa ni lcd'k~h as wj'htah awl-ind'htsiketua2. d'ta2. y6 'win niw dnd'pumi'kut ani'nuh wej'matan. 'ta? ~'1h-ayum ni'mat dni'"tah?' ind'nihtA'rnivn ta? inuh ind'niw, kdki'kiti'nit u'ematAn. uskt'hikuh niw ume'win as tse~'napumd'tsin. uski'hik'uh, k&lki'kiti'nit. h&'w, nik6'tds tsayj'2nap&'htah inih atfi'hPWAni'k, nima-'?. ydi'h pits m6'skine'wanin und'kanmn; md'wa ni kii'lk~h, m'tsim~'hseh, pahki'sikan.. raski'hkiwapulh, wiay~'hkah md'wa ni kd'k~h ini'win as a'2tek und'kanih. 4nahd'w, ni~a't, kAtd'8 rni'tsihsi'nun! y6'? ni'nah kiw-isj'2tayan as ki-kAtdW-Mi'tsilhsi'yen,' ind'win wj'matAn. nimd'2, w&'htsitaw ini'win as m&'mahkAttd'nihtak inuk mnai'niw. 'nahd'w,' ~wd'hin inuh ind'niw, 'kAni'w, ni~a't! s6-'h ni pa'ts niw kinaw-mi'tsihsi2. wi' yAk kinaw-wand'htsiwihiku,'naw,. pama'tes8it pi'?tunah UMA'8 s aw-mi'tsilhsi'yah. ntd'wats-uls1hd'wak sima-'kanj'hsAk; kinaw-k-And'pu~mikuna' WAk as a-mi'ts0isiyah. w~'yAn ndwdi'twna?, a-pd'pakaMd4'WAk,' Twd'hin inuh ind'ni'w. 'hd'w,' nd 'win. 'ta'nito'wAk e~'h-ayum ni'mat kd'taw-is~'?tat?' i~ni'nihtamin simd'kdw. hd'w, ind'niw ni'pita'win; kd'k~h isjh-wi'AhkwAn p62sd'kamin inuh ind'niw. kutd'2nas ini'win hi'hpaki'tah inil& UWi'AhkwAl.. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 599 Then at one time, as he looked over yonder, he saw a man. He was walking in such a way that at a certain point they met. "Hello, friend, and where may you be going?" "Oh, I am just traveling about. And where are you bound for?" "Why, I too am just traveling about," Swordsman's acquaintance told him; "Well, let us go about together," he said to Swordsman. "All right!" he answered him, and they went on together. In due time they came to a brook. "Well, friend, let us stop and eat," said Swordsman's companion to him. That man's provisions made a big pack. "Very well," he answered him. The man set to work and lowered his pack to untie it. "Well, friend, you go draw some water," Swordsman's companion said to him. "Nonsense, friend!" he told the other, "I do otherwise when I eat," he told him. His companion simply stared at him. "Why, how do you do it?" he asked him. "Oh, this is the way I do when I eat." He drew forth his tablecloth and spread it out. When he had spread out that tablecloth of his, he named the things they were to eat. He named all sorts of things, bread, raised bread, meat, everything they were to eat. His companion stared at him. "What is my friend here prattling about?" thought that man, as his companion went on speaking. He gazed into his face like this, into his face, as the other talked. Then once, as he glanced at the tablecloth, heavens and earth, there were dishes all over it; every kind of thing, meat, bread, tea, everything that is good to eat was there in the dishes. "Now then, friend, come, it is time to eat! This is the way I always do, when I want to eat," he told his companion. Truly then was that man astonished. "Very well," said the man, "Just a moment, friend! Let us eat in comfort. Someone will disturb us, if any person approaches us when we are at our meal. I shall just stop and make some soldiers; they will keep watch over us while we eat. If they see anyone, they will give him a beating," said that man. "Very well!" he answered him. "I wonder what in the world this comrade of mine is planning to do," thought Swordsman. The man rose to his feet; some kind of hat that man had on. Then he threw that hat of his down somewhere. 600 %300 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII 'hd'w, umA Is simii'lanis kAts nj'pvwiwl!' &w&d'hin,. ahki,'hih as wi'pinal& inih uwi'AIhkwAn. 'pa'h' isj'hnenin ahki'hih inih 'UWi'AhkWAnt; nim&'w2., md'tssim&'kanis-inei'niw ini'win as n~'puwit. sa?ydlh misi'k' awe-'h-ut~t'hpina'min inikhUWi'AhkwAn, ahki'hih me~si'h as ahpa'kitah. 'hdi'w, misi'kc nilcut sim&'kanis JUMA'S k'',ts n~'puwiw!' ihw&'hin MI', misi'k ni/kut md"ts-ind'ni ini'win as nw'pvwit. ini'2 teh n's, as us~hi'tsin sima'kan~'hsAn inuh ind'niw. 'hd'w, kana'pumj' yah! Wi'yAk kj'spin na'walc, kinaw-pii'pakama'wVcw,' ind'win inuh indi'niwv aninuh usdimd'1aniIhsj'man. h&'wv, iniwi'n icth s pa pim6'hnetua aki'lkuh sim&'kani~'hAk, n&' tiske'tua2. 'nah&'wv, ni~a't, kAts kirni'tsihsi2,' iku'ahin anuh w~'matAn. 7'ta2, ini'win keh s kd'2ts-mi'tsihsituaQ; kAn kdt'k~h ulk6'2tanuw&'wan. kayis-anih-mi'sihsitua2, ta2, simJ'kdw winah ni'pi~tawin; sku'a?ts as d'wilk inih uta'tuhpwA'nik ini'win s td'pinah as is3pjwa'pinah: kawin lki'k~h ani'n'uh unei'kanan. kli'sipe'namin inih u~ti'tqihpwA'nik umiiti'IAsih as pij'hnaIhah. nim&'9. inuh inei'niw wd'htsitaw ini'win as mi'mahkAtdVnihtah inih as is~,'2tanit ani'nuh wC' matAn. J'ta2, winah a'p inuh indt'niw ini's kay&s-ahpd'kitah inih uwi'AhkwAn ahki'hilh, awjh-utii'hpina'min as p52sad'hkah. ini'wvin as ki 'nawdi'puma'tsin ani'nuh ina'niWAn kay&s-ushdu~'tsin. ini'win-pih maydts3yA'tua; indi'niw kayis-nay6-'htah inih uni'mdn, ini~wi'n-pih wina'h ap maya'tSiAt. kId~tsi'h inis payiAtd'tua2, ini'win dni'tsin ani'nuh w~'matAn, nah&'wt, ni~a '1, kAts kiti'2,sunama'ti2 inih kit&'tuhpwA'nik; ~?irnd'2 teA niwi'AhkWAn a-mj'ninan,' iku,'ahin We'MAtAn sima'kdiw. nah'w, ~nahi'. ta'91, pas kiti'2sunamj'ti2,' ind'win simd~'AIiw. ai(t&'tu~hpWAnik sima'kdw iniwi'n-pih may*indtsin ani'nuh we'matAIl. ta'9, inih Uth wina'h ap Wi'AhkWAn ini'-win may~'nikut ani'nuhwmiiatAn. h&'ta2, ini'2 /di'h as k~s-i,'9sunamd'tit'ua?. 'naha'w, ni~a't, y6-'2 kdih as awv-pahki'Aniti'yah. umi'2-nakah ninah ap as ndi'wahkik- inakah mayd'k-isi'yen. ta9, kinah a'p thh urnd' 9-nakalh dsi 'yen utsi'ke~siah.' iku'ahin we~'matAn. 06A nahdi'w,, mitsi'ah!'.i'ta2, sima'kdw teh wvi'nalh ini'win may~'nikut inih w~' was uni' - midn; simd'kdw kaye-s-nay5'htah mdi'ts-w~'was, Matsi'WAkin. hi'wv. saydi'h kay~',s kawi'n undw&'nan aninuh wj'matAn; w&'2naw imiwi' n-nakah wina'I& ap ct'8iAt. 'h&'wv, pinah k-Ats nit6'silaa'WAk semd'kan~'h8Ak; aw~'h-mahzkam4' - WA/c inih nit&'tuhpwA'nik. nikd'?ts-ti'?takats-w~'wasim,' indi'nihtAmmn simd'kdw. uwi'AhkwAn ahki'hiI& ini'win d'hpakitah. 'Wi'wl. simed'kanis umAx's kAts3 nj'pu.wiw!' jwd'hin sima'kawv. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 601 "Let a soldier stand here!" he said, as he flung his hat on the ground. "Pop!" that hat fell to the ground; lo and behold, there stood a big soldier-man. Then again he went and picked up his hat, and threw it hard on the ground. "Let another soldier stand here!" said the man. There stood another big man. So now that man had made two soldiers. "Now, then, watch over us! If you see anyone, you will give him a beating," said the man to his soldiers. So now those soldiers paced back and forth, mounting guard. "Well, friend, let us eat," his companion said to him. Then, accordingly, they ate a hearty meal; they had nothing to fear. When they had done eating, Swordsman rose to his feet; he took hold of one end of his tablecloth and flung it upwards: gone were the dishes. He folded up his tablecloth and stuck it in his bag. Truly, then was that man filled with amazement, when his companion did all this. That man, for his part, went to where he had thrown his hat on the ground, picked it up, and put it on. Then those men whom he had made, disappeared from his sight. Then they went from there; that man took his provisions on his back and also set out. When they had gone a short ways, he said to his companion, "Now, friend, let us trade that tablecloth of yours; here is my hat which I will give you," Swordsman was told by his companion. "Oh, very well, suppose we trade," Swordsman answered him. Then Swordsman gave the other his tablecloth, and the other in return gave him the hat. So now they had traded. "And now, my friend, here is where we must part. It is over this way, toward the south, that I am bound. And you, of course, are going to the north,'. his companion said to him. "Oh, very well; be on your way." Then the other gave Swordsman his pack of provisions; when Swordsman had taken the huge pack on his back, they both went from there. Soon he no longer saw the other man; far in yonder direction he had gone. "Well, suppose I make some soldiers; they will go and take my tablecloth away from him; I do hate to carry a pack," thought Swordsman. Then he threw his hat on the ground. "Let a soldier stand here!" said Swordsman. 602 602Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII nimd'w2, md'ts-simd'lkanis ini'win ~~ n~,'putvit. sayii'h misik uta'IhpinA'min, ahki'hih as ahrpdlkitah. 'h&'w, 8imd'kanis umA's kAts ne'JPuwiw!' ~wd'hiin misik.,nimd'w2, misi'k nikut ini'win as n~'Puwitini'win-pih inih dind'tsin: 'naha'w, nisama'lkAnihseMAlc, aw~'hmahka'mehkun inulh ina'niw nitNAthpwAnik; nik8-kim5'timik; kinaw-kd~'kipi'hkihawd~w- vmskj'hsikuh s a-pd'paka'm.'k. kina-pi1u'MUMV inih nit d'tvhpWAnik,' ind'win sim&'kduw nsaRma'kAnihse'man; 'ki'hki~taku,'n s a-pim~'nisihdk!' nimd'w?, wit'htsita kii'2tin ki'hki~taWA'kin aki'knh simd'kan~'hsAk. indi'niw winah as inim-mdik-pim5'1hnet. kAni'wvin kdi'h niw, ind?'M~WAn payi'hpahtunik, hed', miyd' niw 'dA, apa'hpenisiWA'k! p6'ni~taku'n. p6'ni~takvu'n, p5'ni~taku~'n, p6'ni~takvn'n! nik&s-V'2sunamFI'timinaw inuh n~'mat,' indi'win &n~uw inuh indi'niw ani 'nuh semei'kani~'hAn. nn7'2, dhp~'hsehkAt niw, mnis pits8-pak&'mikin buskj'hsikuh. 6hw&'h, indi'niw ini'win as ahpd'kita'huh as kd'2ts-pd'paka'mikut ani'nuh semdi'kanj'hsAn. WWIa2 iniwi'n ldih as mahkdi'mikut inih wd'piski'kan. iniwi'n-pih dt'watu,'1ua? w~mat~wd'wan as i'nit; m~'nikin inih,utii'tulhpwvAnik simd'kiw. Ad'w kayjs-pdt'yakunahi inih vld'tuhpwAnik., umtiW'hsih p~'hnaha'min.. ma'tsiAt. u~wi'AhkcwAn kay&sutii'hpinah pasa'hkah, kawin wi'yAk aki'kuh semd'kanr~'sAc kay~s-usjhd'tsin. iniwi'n-pih mayd'tSiAt. as mdik —kdh-nim-pdpim5'hnet simd'kaw, kAniwi'n kd'h niw nayli'mik 8~'P~w; mdi"t8-s~'pw a wiwvin. 'w., aka'miah imi's- tin'pit, wj'kiwAm siwas a~te'win. 'h',y8'c keh sa~ydt'h kCAna' pats mini'kdn tsi-nd'man,. imn' nihtAmin. payi'Atat mnissi'piah, '/hd/w, ta'2, y6'2 kdh s aw-&'nawihisi'yen s nik~ti's3 iniwvin as mehk~twd'nihtah aninuh umdi'hkesinan kay~sw~'nih. 'M'lw, kah-mi 'tsit nik~s-m~'nikem mahkdi'sinan.' ind'nihtAmin. vum~ti'Ihseh uta'hpinA'min, as p62se3i'hkah ani'nuh ki?st'hAn kay&s-mZ'nikut, sipi'ah as isi'At, nipi'hih as neWpuwit. nima'2, wahkW't nipi'hih ini'win as pim6'hnet sim&'lkdw! a&'ta2, wakhc~tsipik ini'win as ini4'pi'pem6'hnet. payi'Atctt akii'miah, ki'2sehkamin umd'hkesinan, um'itt~hsih as p~'hnahah. Md'tsiAt, ini-pi'Atdt inih w~'kiwkm, isku'ahtembih n~'puwit, h&'w.kAni'win kii'h niw inis pi'htik wj' yAk kayi'kitit. 'C 7'` teA, -simdi'kdw, kAn as pi'htikeyan? pi'htike',nvn!' iku,'a/&in. d,as pi'htiket, hM'w, mitd'muh8Ak ne~ni'wlAkin. 'h',UMAs ap~'nun,' iku'akin ani'nuh mita'mnh8An; MdA., 'ta'2 -teh-nakah dsi'yen, sima'kdw?' iku'ahin. 'MdAta2, niji-piimd'tesim,' ina'win. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 603 Lo and behold, there stood a big soldier! Again he picked it up and threw it on the ground. "Let a soldier stand here!" he said again. Lo, there stood another one! Then he said this to them, "Now, my soldiers, go take away my tablecloth from that man; he has stolen it from me; you will punch him in the face and blacken his eyes. You will bring me my tablecloth," said Swordsman to his soldiers; "Run fast and chase him." Oh, truly with great speed ran those soldiers. As the man was walking along, suddenly some men came running, oh, straight up to him. "Oh dear, this is bad! Stop it, stop it, stop it! We traded, my friend and I," he said in vain to those soldiers. Oh, as fast as he went, they came and punched his face. Alas, the poor man was knocked down and beaten by the soldiers. And then they took that piece of linen away from him. Then they took it to where their friend was; they gave Swordsman his tablecloth. He folded it up, stuck it in his bag, and went from there. When he picked up his hat and put it on, gone were those soldiers whom he had made. Then he continued his journey. As Swordsman thus tramped on and on, at one time he came to a river; it was a big river. When he looked over at the other shore, there stood a house. "I suppose this is where I come to a town," he thought. When he reached the river, "And I suppose this is where I can't get across," he thought, and sat by the bank. Then he remembered the shoes he had been given. "Why, come to think of it, I was given some shoes," he thought. He took up his bag and put on the things that girl had given him, and went to the river, and stood on the water. Lo and behold, that was when Swordsman walked along over the surface of the water! So then he walked along on top of the water. When he reached the other shore, he drew off his shoes and put them in his bag. He went on and reached that house, and as he stood by the doorway, suddenly someone within spoke. "Why don't you come in, Swordsman? Come in!" that person said to him. When he entered, there were three women. "Come, sit down here," said those women to him; and then, "Whither are you bound, Swordsman?" they asked him. "Oh, I am traveling from place to place," he told them. 604 604 Publications. American Ethnologqical Society Vol. XII '8"! nalha', pinah, simdi'Icw, lkAn-a"? nik&'tu.h lenahk litfl'tawikinan?' iku'alhin. ~nahd'w, kAts kitd'2tati2! si'n yen kitd'2tumit, simJ'klcw?' iku'alhin, ani'nul& Mitai'MuhsAn. hd 'I, mitii'muh inuh iniwi'n niw w4'htinah pi'kAn; iniwi'n keh as a'2tatitua2 simd~'kdw ani'nuh Miti'mnUhs~n. d'ta2, simd'lcaw y5'm as kiw-isW'?at, s'it'n yen wd'Atinatsin, - tnrn'i? niw umfiti'hsih wdt'htinatsin usiini'AnemAn, - nimd"?, usd'matin sU'niAfl! mneWih (tneha'win simd'lcaw aninulh mitd'muhsAn. nik~ta's niw as di'wilk, 'nahud'w, simi'kdiw, md~'wa niw -' h-y& sii'n yen nina'w-a~t~sikdm; kinah a'p tdh ini'h kisiinyA 'nem ma Wva niw a~tsildi'nun' iku'ahin. hiia'w sim&'kdw nmit'tih iniwin ati'kIpwAnih s a'2hi Ic inih uisunyA'nemn mi' wa niw. hil'w, as tsi'htukua2 ani'nnth vas3nah~'laqan, ts' 2naPd'htah sim&rb'lC~w, winah ap inith mitd'muh as tsV~'napd'htahkva2. 'ha'w, simsi'kdw, kit&'nihin! min? md',wawv kis'ilni'Anem! -- h&'w,i t&'pina'hIcun j'h-ayum MAtse"2-sima'lcaw; lkita'wxih-lcipat'hlcWAhUti'wikamikuhb kitW'wih-a~n~u 'naw s a-lkipd'hkwAhakih!' in&'win sim&'Aiiw. iniwi'n-pih 1c6tapa'mikut ani'nuh mitd'muhs~n as lkAti'wt,-8' - lkitswd'pinikut. hANta, simd'lkdw a yAsiWa'pinatsin aninuh mitd'muhs3An s kAtd'wi-lkipJ'hkWAh6'kut, nik~td's lkdh ni'w ini'wvin a's mehlkdwa'nihtah inih uldi'litupi'hiklan. h&'wl, iniwi'n-pilh umIIA's ledti'paleit, le&'litupi'hah, ini'h O~h i'h y5'm leiw-inda'hikeAtale iniwi'n is~'kin ayd'wile, - simd'leaw winah, ta'? 'tvu'm tWm tv'm ht'm iu'm tu'm tu,'m!' - inih y5'm is~'lein, ini'wi'n isiklin ayei'wike. nima"?, aleuh mitii'muhsAle wd'htsitaw ini'win s le4"?ts-ni,'mitua'?: &'ta'?, sima'leaw iniwi'n niw ahpd'n lci'kitupi'lhiket. 'he"Ay, simaka'w, p6'ni'?tah! sa'?ydh nita'tsleim! ~'h-ayut'n ni/kn'! nitd'hki'?s~'hsim lcinaw-mj'nin s a-w~'wi yen; keina-w~'keimau%'~ind'Win ha' nik~ti's kea'h sa'?y'h wa'htsitaw as tsiw-atskei't inuh we' yAwe'Ikeh aya'wit. -he"Ay, simakd'w, s8a~ya'h keina'2sim; p6'ni'?tah lea'litupi'hileeyan! nayi's niw, ~'h-akeum nita'hUis~'hsiMAk kinaw-w!~'keima'WAk.' ia'win inuh we' yAwekoeh. ha", nile~ta's lceh iniwi'n mi-pd'pehtsih inUh WZ'YAW~lkeh. ha'w, ta'?, leawi'n uwi'hlcihtu'nan as keAta'w-leana'tsihsih, tsZ'2tsipikatd"?tat ahlei'hih, mni's as atskei't, mis8i'kv nd'hleAn anu'm; nike~ta's keh ini'win as nipa'le as atskei't. I Hand to mouth; gesture of playing mouth-organ or Jew's-harp. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 605 "So that is the way of it! Well now, say, Swordsman, you don't ever play cards, do you?" they asked him. "Oh yes, I play cards," he answered them. "Well then, let us play cards. Have you any money, Swordsman?' the women asked him. "Yes!" Then the woman took out some cards; and then Swordsman and those women played cards. Now, when Swordsman did like this, when he reached for money, - from right there in his bag he took his money, - why, there was an incredible amount of money. Swordsman won a great deal from those women. At last, "Now then, Swordsman, I shall stake all this money here, and do you too bet all your money," said one to him. So then Swordsman placed his bag on the table, with all his money. Then, when they dealt the cards, and Swordsman looked at his, and the women at theirs, "Well, Swordsman, I win! That is the end of your money! - And now, just take hold of this confounded Swordsman; let us take him off and put him in jail and lock him up!" was said of Swordsman. Then those women jumped at him, to drag him out of the house. While Swordsman was throwing off, one after another, those women, who wanted to lock him up, suddenly he remembered his musical instrument. Then Swordsman reached into the fold of his garment for it, and began to play on it, - it was the kind that is played like this, a Jew's-harp, - "Tum-tum-tutum-tum-tum-tumtum!" - this kind, that is the kind it was. Dear me, these women truly then danced with zeal; Swordsman all the time kept playing. "Hey, Swordsman, stop! I am tired! I'll give you this girl of mine for a wife; you shall marry her," that woman said to him; "I am tired; stop playing!" she said to him, but Swordsman, all unheeding, played as hard as ever. After a time the old woman got very tired. "Hey, Swordsman, you are killing me; stop playing. You shall marry both of my girls here," the old woman said to him. At last the old woman fell as she danced. She could not even then lie still, but kept jerking her legs as she lay on the ground, tired as she was, and her arms too; but at last she died from fatigue. And then the girls, dancing with all their might, "Hey, Swordsman, stop! I'll marry you, I'll marry you, we'll both marry you; stop!" 6'06 Publications, American Ethnological Society Vol. XII k4'n? teh winalh sim&'kiiw wd'wahtd2 ldi'2ts-lci'k-itupi'Ihiket. nik~tdi's keh wi'nah ap inuh ki?sZ'hseh ini'win s pa'pehtsih, h&',. ini2 teh uhkdi'tan nisi'k niw! nik~tdi's Iceh wina'h ap ini'win as ni'pdk. h&'w, mitsi' niw niku,'t: ~/~Y, simald'w, p5'ni~tah! kind'2siminaw! sa~y6VIh ma'wa niw kina-mamdi'n inih kisiinyA'nem; kinaw-wj'1kimin teh mnisi'c2 indi'win Winuw, wv&'wahtdi9 simd'kdw Idi'kitupi'hilket. Iud'w, nik~tdi's lkeh ini'win wi'nah ap as pei'pehtsih inuh ki~s~'hseh. imi'? keh ma'waw nipd.'kua?, ma'waw aw~'h-mamu'ahin inih u,8~ftyA'nem sim&'Aiiw, umfti'hsiI& as pZ'hnahah. initsi'w tah niw mdini'htawin inik sii'n yen. 1928 Bloomfield, Menomini Texts 607 ( But Swordsman, paying no attention, played on with zeal. In time the one girl too fell over, - and then, just her legs kept going. At last she too died. i Then, the one that remained: "Hey, Swordsman, stop! You are / killing us! You can take all your money; and I'll marry you besides," she told him, in vain, as Swordsman, unheeding, kept on with his music. At last that girl, too, fell down. And when they thus were all dead, Swordsman went and took all his money, and put it into his wallet. He still has a lot of that money, they say. I ' PUBLICATIONS ISSUED BY THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. TRANSACTIONS OF THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. Vols. I — II, 1845 —51 (Out of print.) BULLETIN OF THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 1860-(i3. (Out of print.) Dr. C. H. Berendt, Analytical Alphabet for the Mexican and Central American Languages (printed in facsimile). (Out of print.) TRANSACTIONS OF THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. Vol. III. Reprinted in 1909. $ 2.50. PUBLICATIONS OF THE AMERICAN ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETY. I. Fox Texts, William Jones. 1907. 383 pp. $ 3.00. II. Wishram Texts, Edward Sapir. 1909. 314 pp. $ 3.00. III. Haida Songs, John R. Swanton; Tsimshian Texts, Franz Boas' 1912. 284 pp. $ 3.00. IV. Maidu Texts, Roland B. Dixon. 1912. 241 pp. $ 3.00. V. Koryak Texts. Waldemar Bogoras. 1916. 153 pp. $ 2.00. VI. Ten'a Texts and Tales from Anvik, Alaska, John W. Chapman; with Vocabulary by Pliny Earle Goddard. 1914. VI + 230 pp. $ 2.50. VII. Part I. Ojibwa Texts, William Jones. Edited by Truman Michelson. 1917. XXI + 501 pp. $ 3.00. Part II. Ojibwa Texts, William Jones. Edited by Truman Michelson. 1919. X + 777 pp.; 2 plates. $ 5.00. VIII. Part I. Keresan Texts, Franz Boas. In press. XII + 300 pp. 1928. $ 3.00. Part II. Keresan Texts, Franz Boas. 1925. 344 pp. $ 3.00. IX. Kickapoo Texts, William Jones and Truman Michelson; collected by William Jones, translated and annotated by Truman Michelson. 1915. 143 pp. $ 2.50. X. Passamaquoddy Texts, John Dyneley Prince. 1921. 85 pp. $ 1.50. XI. The Relationship Systems of the Tlingit, Haida and Tsimshian, Theresa Mayer Durlach. 177 pp. $ 2.50. XII. Menomini Tales, Leonard Bloomfield. In press. XVI + 608-pp. $ 5.00. M 0 1 0 tj, W, A 1/ + + + + Nq1 M + + + + Nm~ + + + M IN $VI —Crr I.I 1 fe. 1( + + + + M I + + + + N M IIQ A0 + + +,AV -LI ~1+ A 4 xy~ I 09 + + + + M XflVy1fr ~J xs( "I 1 )Z'N ~ (V.I U1 + + + + (Z (Z4, 'TY (p 0 1111' +e_ n;Z) 1.4 Q ta h NA M + + I' '$ &A UNIVERSITY IF MjICHIGAN 3 9015 00536 6631 M M + NA DO NOT REMOVE + C C-4 OR MUTILATE CARD Nu IXAWV,%r CO 1~,5 4 - -4- -4 - i p