Formula of the Acorn Feast  – Hupa

[1]
Whatever has grown any where in the world in time past let it come back here. The people must eat but little. If one eats but little he shall feel as if he had eaten much. Birds must not like the food. Let every kind come back here which used to grow in the world.

Footnotes:

[1] This formula is repeated after the feast is eaten and the people have gone away. The priest repeats it while standing close over the fire which is renewed to consume the remains of the feast. See Life and Culture of the Hupa, pp. 80, 81.

Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.

[1]
Three immortals came into being at Xaslindiñ. They began to talk about what would be when Indians should come into existence. One of them went away up the Klamath river. The other two remained waiting for him. “I don’t think we better wait for him,” said one of those who remained. He went down to the river. “Let a stone cup become,” he thought. And it became. And then in it a salmon became. “Already it has happened,” he thought. “It is finished,” he told his brother.

He made the salmon swim down the Trinity and Klamath rivers to the ocean. Then he caused it to swim along the beach southward. Having gone entirely around the world, he came back with it from the north to the mouth of the Klamath again. He made it swim back up the Klamath and Trinity rivers to the starting place.

There he questioned it. “What will you do if a person with a bad body eats you?” he asked. The salmon swam around in one place. He asked it about every kind person. After each question it swam for a short time in one place. Finally he asked, “What will you do if a woman who has miscarriage eats you?” It died at once. It rose to the surface of the water. Then he took it and placed it on the shore where it lay for five days.

After the five days, in the morning, the two brothers went down the river and crossed over to the place where it lay. The one who was officiating cut the salmon and cooked it there. He put incense root in the fire with which he cooked it. When the salmon was done they ate it. When they were through they shot at a mark and had all kinds of games. “This is the way Indians will do when they come,” he thought.

Then he said, “All of you go away from me.” Having built a fire he put incense root in it and prayed. “Indians when they come into existence, will eat this happily,” he thought. “They will have plenty of food when the time comes for it to grow. The birds will not bother it. It will be good wherever it grows. Whatever anyone says will happen.”

The two brothers went up the river and crossed over to their home. They found the one who had gone up the Klamath was not yet come back. Then they tore down the house and the sweat-house and went back to Xaiyame. There, one on each side of the river, they took their stations to watch their salmon.

When the one who had gone on the journey, came back to Weitchpec and started up the Trinity he was surprised to see salmon scales scattered about. When he got back where they had lived he found they had departed. He tracked them to Xaiyame where he found them. “Well,” he said, “I will take my place at the Tseyekyauwhwikût. There I will keep watch. The salmon which a bad person would eat, if it were caught, I will take out as it passes up. Indians when they come into existence will make mention of us. ‘At that place he did that,’ they will say.”

Footnotes:

[1] Told at Hupa, June 1901, by Robinson Shoemaker in whose family the celebration of this medicine is an hereditary trust. The priest performs the ceremony in ceremonial dress, with beads around his neck, and his face painted red. He carries a fisher-skin quiver. When he has caught the salmon at the fishing-place in Sugar Bowl valley he cuts it with a stone knife, holding his breath while he does it. He then builds a fire and cooks the fish. He places incense root, Leptotaenia Californica, in the fire saying, “Kyōle, may there be many salmon.” For ten days following he does not drink water. One meal a day is eaten at the exact time the sun reaches a fixed mark in the sweat-house. The meal is eaten from new baskets and is cooked by a woman chosen for the duty. She is dressed in a beaded dress. A male attendant remains in the sweat-house to attend to the fire. The priest keeps the incense root in his hand at night that he may not have dreams. He is careful not to say evil things for what he says or dreams will happen. He prays every night for many salmon. He does not eat salmon during the remainder of the year.

Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.

[1]
Across the ocean towards the south were three bodies of water. Yīmantūwiñyai went there. He saw there the red eels which never come to this world. “They will come,” he thought. The bank of the lake slid out and some of the eels went out with the water. Yīmantūwiñyai himself walked along the shore and accompanied the eels until he came to the mouth of the Klamath river. There they stopped and waited for him. There at the mouth of the Klamath a TimatciLtcwe (one who stops the run of fish) lives. “You who stop the run of fish, you will go to sleep,” thought Yīmantūwiñyai, “and the fish will go through without your knowledge.”

Yīmantūwiñyai walked along the Klamath accompanying the eels until he came to Weitchpec, where another TimatciLtcwe lived. Yīmantūwiñyai said to him, “You will go to sleep; fish will go through without your knowledge.” “They will never go on up the Klamath,” thought Yīmantūwiñyai. “A mountain shall project into the water to prevent it.” He went on up the Trinity. He saw that the eels were coming along.

When he got quite a way up he thought, “These eels won’t go on towards the south; they will stay in the waterfall at Xaiyame.” “I will go back again,” he thought. “I don’t want a miñkilen to eat my eels,” he thought, “but if she does eat them, these eels of mine won’t die. KiLtcwe may eat them without harm; the eels won’t die; they will be good and many will be caught.” “Ten canoes will be filled with them,” he thought.

He went back again. “I will do this again; I will go back across the ocean towards the south.” When he got back there he thought, “I will go again; I will take them with me.” He went northward again to the mouth of the Klamath. “You will go to sleep,” he thought of the TimatciLtcwe. “Your heart will go to sleep; without your knowing it the eels will go past.” He walked along accompanying the eels to Weitchpec. “This is the way it will be done,” thought Yīmantūwiñyai, “they won’t go on; they will stay here,” he thought. “They will say of me, ‘He did this.’ KiLtcwe will eat them without harm. My eels will not melt away. Miñkilen may eat them without harm. Ten canoes shall be filled with eels. It will be that way everywhere. It will be good,” he thought.

He went back south across the ocean. “I will go again,” he thought. “I want my eels.” He went along the shore from the south until he came to the mouth of the Klamath. He said to the TimatciLtcwe, “You will go to sleep. My eels will go on when you go to sleep.” He went on up the Klamath to Weitchpec. “Soon you will go to sleep,” he said to the TimatciLtcwe. “Only one river will flow for you, my eels; this one, my river. In this my river the eels will go. They won’t go east,” he thought. “A mountain will project into the water in front of them. One river will flow out for you. They will go into this one,” he kept thinking. “He will say of me, ‘He did that way.’ Now I will quit.”

As he went along he looked at the eels. “They won’t go into this river (Klamath),” he thought. “They will live in this river of mine even when it becomes shallow. He (the coming priest) will do this way,” he thought. “He will say of me, ‘He did that way;’ he will do this way with the eels.” Then Yīmantūwiñyai ate them where he had cooked them. “He will say of me, ‘I hear he did this way.’ He shall eat eels there for five days.” He did not eat all of those eels. “This is the way he will do,” Yīmantūwiñyai thought, “when he gets enough he will throw the remainder in the fire; with this medicine he will tell of my deeds. This way he will do for five mornings.”

“When a woman is through with her period of seclusion she may eat the eels; they will not die. She may eat them if she is hungry,” he thought. Yīmantūwiñyai fished for eels thinking, “Hereafter the priest will do this way; he will say of me, ‘He did that way.’” “Even if he does not catch anything, nevertheless he will talk about me.” Then he took the net outside. “Tomorrow he will talk about me this way. Tomorrow I will go fishing. Everybody will fish tomorrow.” Yīmantūwiñyai fished and thought to himself, “He will say of me this way he did.” “A woman who has suffered miscarriage may eat them without doing harm; even if she eats them the run of eels will not disappear.” “I will go back,” he thought.

Then having gone back be soon came along the shore again from the south until he came to the mouth of the Klamath. There again he said to the TimatciLtcwe, “You will go to sleep, and while you sleep they will go past. “Yīmantūwiñyai was carrying along medicine in his hand while he was saying this. “He (the coming priest) will do that, and then he will eat them,” thought Yīmantūwiñyai. That is why he always carries the medicine. If he eats the eels without the medicine he will be bitten by a rattlesnake. “You will not live,” he thought, “this was not a good thing that you did. I wish that you may not live. Even if he does not catch any eels he must talk about me. Even then many eels will be caught. If he does not talk about me he will not live.”

“I will go back,” he thought. “What am I going to do? I will do this for him. This way he will eat them. If he eats, having the medicine in his hands as I have it, he will get enough. He will put the remainder in the fire with this medicine and burn it. He will not carry to the house what is left after he gets enough. This is the way he shall do; this is the way he shall eat. Ten days I will fish,” thought Yīmantūwiñyai. “This way he will do,” he thought. “He will say of me, ‘He did this way.’ I will go back. Already I have finished. All kinds of people will eat the eels. I will watch the eels. I will look at my eels. They appear good. They won’t dodge away from the net. Already all kinds of people eat them, even KiLtcwe, and miñkilen. My eels won’t dodge away from the net. All is good. It will be this way, nevertheless I will watch my eels; he will say of me, ‘He did this way.’ They will be good. Already they are good. He (the priest) will eat this way. Everybody will eat them. I have finished. They won’t dodge. Now I will go back across to the south. ”

When he got back the water in which the fish lived was all gone. He made the banks of the ponds slide out. Then he came back from the south along the shore of the ocean to the mouth of the Klamath. He never ceased having the medicine in his hand. “You will go to sleep,” he thought of the TimatciLtcwe. “While you sleep, they will go by. I wish something would cause your mind to melt away. They will go while that happens.” Yīmantūwiñyai went along to Weitchpec. He thought concerning the TimatciLtcwe, “You will go to sleep. The eels will never go to the east. Only one river and that mine, will flow out for them. I will watch my eels.”

He came up to Hupa. “Here in this valley I will watch my eels,” he thought. “KiLtcwe will eat them. Even if the river becomes shallow they will live in some deep places. Many boats filled with eels shall be counted. Every one ate them. Every one has eaten my fish. Already I have done that which I was intending to do.” He fished. “Now I am fishing,” he thought. “He shall do this way for five mornings.” He cooked it with the medicine lying in his hand. “It shall be done this way,” he thought. He (Yīmantūwiñyai) ate the eels. “He will say of me, ‘He did this way.’ He will eat them here as I have done. When he has enough he will put the medicine in the fire. This medicine is good. He will say of me, ‘He did this way.’

“Now here in this place I finish. This is the way it shall be. Not many shall say of me, ‘He did that way.’ Every kind of people will eat them. Even if bad people eat them I do not want that the eels shall stop coming. They will not stop. This is the way he will talk of the fish. He will eat them in this manner with the medicine. This way now I will make it for him.” “Now,” he said, “I am about to finish.” “I am finishing for him. Now I am going home across the ocean to the south.”

Footnotes:

[1] Told at Hupa, November 1901, by William Lewis (Kū-wī-ta) said to be the only person who knows the formula. He performs this ceremony which necessitates ten days of fasting without recompense for the good of the people.

Hupa Texts, by Pliny Earle Goddard; (University of California Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 1:2); [1904] and is now in the public domain.

A long time ago in ancient time, while the Choctaw Indians were living in Mississippi, the Choctaw legends say that certain supernatural beings or spirits lived near them. These spirits, or “Little People,” were known as Kowi Anukasha or “Forest Dwellers.” They were about two or three feet tall. These pygmy beings lived deep in the thick forest, their homes were in caves hidden under large rocks.

When a boy child is two, three, or even four years old, he will often wander off into the woods, playing or chasing a small animal. When the little one is well out of sight from his home, “Kwanokasha”, who is always on watch, seizes the boy and takes him away to his cave, his dwelling place. Many times his cave is far away and Kwanokasha and the little boy must travel a very long way, climbing many hills and crossing many streams. When they finally reach the cave Kwanokasha takes him inside where he is met by three other spirits, all very old with long white hair. The first one offers the boy a knife; the second one offers him, a bunch of poisonous herbs; the third offers a bunch of herbs yielding good medicine.

If the child accepts the knife, he is certain to become a bad man and may even kill his friends. If he accepts the poisonous herbs he will never be able to cure or help his people. But, if he accepts the good herbs, he is destined to become a great doctor and an important and influential man of his tribe and win the confidence of all his people.

When he accepts the good herbs the three old spirits will tell him the secrets of making medicines from herbs, roots and barks of certain trees, and of treating and curing various fevers, pains and other sickness. That is the reason the “‘Little People” take the boy child to their home in the wilderness, in order to train Indian doctors, transmitting to them their special curative powers and to train them in the manufacture of their medicines. The child will remain with the spirits for three days after which he is returned. He does not tell where he has been or what he has seen or heard. Not until he becomes a man will he make use of the knowledge gained from the spirits, and never will he reveal to others how it was acquired. It is said among the Choctaws that few children wait to accept the offering of the good herbs from the third spirit, and that is why there are so few great doctors and other men of influence among the Choctaws.

It is also said the “Little People” are never seen by the common Choctaws. The Choctaw prophets and herb doctors, however, claim the power of seeing them and of holding communication with them. During the darkest nights in all kinds of weather you can see a strange light wandering around in the woods. This light is the Indian doctor and his little helper looking for that special herb to treat and cure a very sick tribesman.

http://www.tc.umn.edu/~mboucher/mikebouchweb/choctaw/legends2.htm

The people gathered here at Junction and said, “The blackberries, elderberries, and hazelnuts must be ripe. Let’s go to the mountains!” They went camping at Barker Mountain. “Let’s camp in the gap where there is water close by,” the decided. “Let’s gather blackberries and hunt! Let’s look for water and eat together with the newcomers,” they said. Then they built several fires and got ready to cure deer meat and dry blackberries. Let’s get ready to pound and dry hazel nuts and everything,” They said. They brought wood and bark, shaving it to clean it off. They scraped it clean so that they would only have to pour the berries on top. To dry deer meat, they would cut in inot strips and hang it on wood racks they had already made for that purpose.

They killed and slaughtered deer. They ate some and fried the rest. They picked blackberries, brought them back in the evening, and spread them to dry. They picked and dried elderberries. They gathered all the hazel nuts they saw and returned with full bags. They emptied them into a hole and pounded them with a piece of wood. They removed the hulls, then dried the hazel nuts for two days and sacked them.

Deer meat does not dry very quickly. With a rock they made a small smoking fire so that the flies and yellow jackets would not eat it. They brought wood to burn. When they had finished all that, they gathered hazel nuts and picked up sugar pine nuts that had fallen. Then, by evening, the wild plums and chokecherries were ripe, and they picked those. They gathered chinkapin nuts and pounded them. They pushed the hulls aside. They picked up hazel nuts.

When they returned to their camp in the evening, they dried those things. The chinkapin nuts dried fast. They sacked the hazelnuts. For two days they dried things. “Let’s go home now,’ they said. They came home and put all the food away. “Now then, let’s get ready to go out again and spear salmon! Let’s go camp south of Forest Glen where there are plenty of salmon!” They speared salmon.

They burned the ground to level it out and prepared to spear salmon. They brought back many salmon, cut them up, and dried them. They fished for trout and ate it, but put the salmon away. They saved the trout heads and poked out the eyeballs. They dried only the heads, sacked them, and took good care of them. They skinned the salmon and dried the skins. They put the skins away and placed the meat into big baskets. They hollowed out the salmon bones and boiled them. When they were cooked, they took them out of the water. They took out all the bones, put them away, and rubbed only the meat to powder. In this manner they made salmon flour which took several days.

They used to drink the good cooking water, called “salmon soup.” They never threw anything away. And when all the salmon flour was boiled they took out the bones and rubbed them to powder. For five days they were busy making salmon flour. They dried it.

They also killed the suckerfish. They ate those right away because they were not plentiful. Some they put away to save with the salmon meat; they did not eat much of the salmon. Heads and all, they cured and dried them, hanging them up for smoking.

When it rained a little, they killed many salmon. When the salmon were going to spawn, they said, “The salmon are coming to spawn. Let’s stop now!” They gathered everything and brought their catch home. They put all the salmon away and dried the plums and chokeberries. They would be dry by winter. Then they said, “Let’s drive trout into our nets!” They placed many nets which they had woven into the water. They were going to catch salmon, suckers, trout, everything. They brought a large pole to the big creek, cut much willow brush, wove it tightly, and wrapped it around the pole. They rolled it, chasing the trout out from under rocks, brush, and underwater banks. As they rolled the pole, the trout all went downstream. Many went down the river and wer4e caught. The tightly woven nets were full. They had been made to last and the water could not overturn them. They filled them with very many trout.

When they took the roller out of the water, the nets were filled with very many trout and suckerfish. All the people who were present divided the trout, suckers, and everything among themselves and went home happy. They took the fish home and dried it. After they had dried and sacked everything they got ready again and went to another water hole. Again they placed that big pole into the water after fastening the nets. They chased the trout out with the roller and drove them ahead. Then they placed the roller in yet another water hole and chased many trout into the nets, filling them. They took the roller out and the women gathered up all the trout and suckers. They took them to the fire they had made and divided them evenly among all.

Sometimes they caught the big steelheads, called “Fall salmon,” which come before the small salmon. They said, “We have killed enough trout now. If we eat all this, we’ll be able to make it until spring comes.” They divided the catch among everyone and went home. After they had dried the trout heads and some trout and put everything away, they said, “Let’s gather crayfish now!” They gathered many crayfish. They ate the feet, dried the tails, and threw the middle part away. “Let’s stop now!” they said. “Be sure to be ready in two days to gather acorns! Put all the food away carefully and then we will gather white oak, black oak, and live oak acorns. Be ready in two days to gather them all!”

After two days they got together. Someone said, “There is a place where many black oak acorns have fallen. Let’s Go!” “Okay,” said the others and they all went to gather acorns. For two days they gathered acorns. Some they left, and some they took. They brought them home and left again quickly. Then they went back and gathered some more of those they had left and took them home, too. “Let’s fix a good little place to dry these,” they said. They brought home bark and placed the acorns on it in loosely woven baskets so they would dry well. They stored and dried the black oak acorns. Then, in the winter when there was nothing to do, they would hull them.

When autumn came and it became cold and rainy, they stayed at home. They dried the white oak acorns they had gathered and soaked them in water until spring. They dried the black oak and live oak acorns.

Their houses were now filled with all the food they had gathered and they said, “We have gathered enough. Let’s hunt some now so we can eat! We will not use what we have gathered right away because we still have things to eat for a while. We will eat gray squirrels, ground squirrels, mountain chipmunks, rabbits, and that sort of thing. We won’t eat what we gathered until winter.” “Okay,” they said. “We have enough.”

They all went home

In My Own Words. Stories, songs and memories of Grace Mckibbin, Wintu [1884-1987]. by Alice Shepherd, 1997.