An Elder and a Younger Brother were wintering nearby. The Elder Brother had a wife, and the three of them lived there. They went hunting daily. They had a Bear for a dog. They were wealthy, and the woman’s clothes were finely ornamented; all their things were the finest.

One evening the Younger Brother said, “I’ve used up all my arrows. Tomorrow I will not accompany you but will make arrows.” “As you wish,” the Elder Brother told him.

In the morning the Elder Brother went hunting, and the Younger just occupied himself at making arrows. Outside the lodge, the woman was engaged in scraping hides. The Bear was watching her; from time to time he found meaty skin which he ate. Then she said to the Younger Brother, “Oh, a pretty bird is outside here. He has alighted here. Hurry! Come shoot it.”

The man told her, “I have nothing with which to shoot it; I have no arrows.” She persisted, “Hurry! Come shoot it. The bird is very winsome.”

“And with what shall I shoot it?” Nevertheless he took up an arrow, one that had been broken off. He took this outside and said to her, “Where is it of which you speak?” “There.”

Now he shot it ["t'aq"], and the bird fell. He brought it and tossed it to her. “Whatever you wanted it for, here you are.” Now he went back inside. He was busy making arrows when all of his pitch was used up. “I have no pitch, so I will go after some.”

Thus he went away, while the woman wrapped up her hide under preparation, put it away, and with the bird’s claws scratched herself on the face. The Bear watched her. The woman then lay down.

The Elder Brother arrived, bearing his pack of meat, and he said to her, “Bring in the pack now. What are you about?” She did not reply at all. Again he said to the woman, “Bring the pack inside. What are you doing? Why do you lie there?” Now he reached over and touched her. “What indeed! What could I be doing? Your brother raped me.”

Now he saw her bloody face, and he said to himself, “For this reason he didn’t want to go.” Here were arrows planted in the ground. He seized these and tossed them into the fire. There, watching, was Bear, the dog.

Now the other brother returned from seeking pitch. He sat down and searched about looking for his arrows. Then he gave Bear a glance, and bear winked toward the fire. He looked only to see a small piece of one of the arrows, and now he knew, “He has burned mine. Tomorrow, then, I will go away.” His feelings were hurt deeply. In early morning he dressed, took his things, and went away. The Bear accompanied his master.

As they went along, the Bear informed him, “Thus it happened that he did this to you.” He told him, “The woman has caused you this trouble by her lying.” And he went on to tell entirely all of the woman’s doing.

“Yes, it is well that you inform me, you faithful one whose master I am.” They now went to the mountains. Meanwhile, his brother had missed him, but he thought, “Probably he has gone over in the direction where the people are gathered.”

The Younger Brother and the Bear traveled to the mountains far away. The Younger Brother said, “Poor one whose master I am has become hungry; therefore, let me shoot a pheasant for the poor one.” Soon a pheasant perched above on a limb, and he shot it. But in falling the bird caught on the limbs. “What is it doing now? I will get it for him.” He took off his clothes and was naked except for the loin piece. Then he climbed. He was about to reach for the pheasant when, suddenly, he saw it go higher. And he called down to the Bear, “Why are you looking up?” The Bear had looked up at him, winked, and thereby caused the pheasant to go right upward. Now again the master climbed. Again the Bear looked up, and again the pheasant went higher The Bear kept doing this to his master, and caused him to go higher and higher until he was completely out of sight somewhere above. The Bear had caused his master to disappear upward. Below, the Bear became lonely now, and he howled and wept. He howled plaintively, “Wa’ ho”[sound of howling].

The Elder Brother at the lodge, too, now longed for his brother. “It was not right that I offended my brother. Now I shall search for him.” And he, too, went to the mountains. “Here are their footprints.” Thus, he tracked them all the way to the mountains, and from there he heard an echo ["layka ' t"]. Finally he heard it at closer range, like a dog howling. Presently he recognized the Bear’s voice. Soon he arrived to behold the Bear sitting downcast, just howling.

He came up and said to him, “Where is your master?” The Bear did not reply. Again he said to him, “Where is your master, you whose master I am?” He still did not reply at all; and now he hung his head down, but he would not answer him. Finally the Bear said to him, “You are bothersome to me! By having given heed to the woman in her lying, you have caused me great loneliness.” “Tell me then, you whose master I am.”

“Why did you heed the woman’s lies? Now I will inform you.” And he talked and acquainted him with all the woman’s doing. “Very plainly I saw them. He was in the lodge and the woman, outside, insisted that he should come out to shoot a bird. He did not rape her at all, but she just scratched herself.”

“Yes, you whose master I am, it is well that you have told me. Now we are parting, never again to see each other. Already the coming of the human race is only a short time away, and it will be said, ‘There is the bear. He is very, very dangerous.’ Never again will you be good-natured.” He placed a red feather on the Bear’s head. Then he swallowed all the clothes that his brother had taken off, and they parted, he and the Bear. The Bear stayed in the mountains, there to become lonely and to howl.

Now the other went home and arrived where his wife was scraping hides. At a distance he pulled back his bow and aimed at her with his arrow. “Egad! You should not aim at me when you might let it slip accidentally, jokingly lose control; you are making me laugh,” she said. He shot her dead, the poor one, right mid-center. “This one lied to me!” Now, also, he swallowed all the woman’s clothing. Then he went into the lodge and swallowed various things, swallowed variously, everything. Now he became large and hideous; his belly bulged.’ Winter came. He thought, “I am going to my grandmother’s now.” They were dancing there, and many people had assembled. In that direction now he journeyed. He arrived there.

Elder Brother came to an icy place with a hole chopped in the ice. There was red paint all over the ice from face washings. He stopped there when, shortly, he saw some maidens coming toward him, laughing, spirited, and gay. “Such a lovable boy! Where did you come from? Who are you?” “Elder Brother,” he replied. “Those two were so homely, Elder Brother and Younger Brother! Go away! You are contaminating our water with nasal mucus.” And they sent him off downstream.

He went along down the valley and arrived at another hole in the ice. There, too, red face paint was smeared all over. In the same way maidens came upon him, “Oh, lovable boy! Who are you?” “Elder Brother, ” he replied. “Eh! What things you say! You are so homely. Go away! You are contaminating our water with nasal mucus.” From there, too, they sent him off down the valley.

Again, he arrived at a hole downstream where ashes were scattered over the ice, and all the way along from the lodge to the hole. He sat down there when, presently, he saw an old woman coming, leaning on a cane. She came up to him here. “Oh boy! Oh boy! Who are you, boy?” “I am Elder Brother,” he replied.

“Grandson! Come along; let us go home. Come, you are cold.” She took him home, and they lived there for many days. He just played about opposite her. His grandmother made him a bow of deer’s rib, made it and strung it. He would shoot targets with it nearby.

An old man who had two daughters lived nearby. One day this old man saw the boys and seemed to recognize him. “It seems to be him.” Now he pondered. He took two feathers and blew one straight upward. The feather flew right upward and became an eagle. It went to the top of a cottonwood tree and perched there. He did the same to the other feather, whereupon two eagles were perched atop the tree. Then the old man proclaimed to all the people, “Whoever shoots those eagles will be given these maidens for wives.”

Coyote acted at once as crier and announced to the people the old man’s offer. The eagles were perched high up, and Coyote now bent his shooting efforts to the task. His bow had a deer’s hoof tip. “Oh! I almost shot it. Oh! I almost shot it,” he would shout in exultation. By that time everybody had given himself to the shooting test.

The boy, too, went there to watch. “What a thing to be missing,” he thought. “They are easily shot.” (Both the brothers had been keen marksmen from times far back.) Coyote saw him there, and said in playful mockery, “Shoot the buga-boo. They are giving away a wife.” Then everybody said, “Then let the boy shoot.” “Pooh! How could the likes of him ever shoot, when even I cannot?” Coyote told them now seriously. But the boy already comported himself the part in manliness. “Now shoot,” they told him.

Now he undertook to and shot into the air. Coyote shot at the same time. “Pop! [t'aq'- sound of a hit].” He shot one of the eagles. “I’ve shot it! I’ve shot it! I’ve shot it!” rejoiced Coyote. “Who indeed!” Fox said to him. “Who are you? The boy shot it.” “The boy told me, ‘Why should the women belong to me? You will just take them home.’ Is it not so, boy?” Coyote told them.

“Always you speak carelessly! The wives now belong to the boy.” was Fox’s rejoinder. The boy took up another arrow and “Pop! [t'aq']” the other eagle fell. Both now had been shot. They took them to the old man. “Yes, I recognized him before,” he thought.

But now Coyote went to the old man and said to him, “It is not right at all for you to give your children to him. He is a poor boy, and it is not right for you to give your daughters to such a poor one. Rather, you should tell the people of another contest, because the boy will do very poorly by your daughters. It would be better if they belonged to a rich man.”

Coyote talked on, but the old man only replied, “Nevertheless, I already told them that they will belong to the one who shot the eagles.” “Yes,” insisted Coyote, “but now I am telling them that there will be another contest.”

“As you like. If you wish to do so.” Coyote again performed the function of crier. “The old man says, “I am not satisfied with the shooting test; therefore there will be another contest.’ You will make traps [pitfalls], and the one who makes the best catch this night to bring to the old man, he will get the wives.” This he cried abroad.

It grew dark, and then very early in the morning Coyote went to traps that belonged to others, and there he examined those animals which had been caught. In one there was a splendid white wolf. Coyote took it out. “I will take this to the old man later,” thought Coyote. The boy, too, had made a trap just near the lodge, and his grandmother had poured into it some sourdough. Now in the morning everybody brought in that thing which he had caught. Coyote brought his wolf. Everybody was there when somebody said to them, “The boy has not yet brought in his.” “Nonsense!” said Coyote. “Would he. have anything when he had no trap?”

Then they saw an old lady coming, bringing along something. “This is what the boy had in his trap,” she told them. It was a great white wolf with fur as white as snow. That wolf which Coyote had brought was a muddy color in comparison. “Oh, why did I not look for his, too?” Coyote, berated himself.

Now the old man told them, “The wives become the boy’s.” Then in the evening he told his daughters, “You are now going to the boy. Do not, however, look inside, but go right into the lodge; and do not, upon arriving there, peep inside.”

The sisters went. The elder one led the way, and the younger followed. They arrived at the lodge, but the boy was just playing, turning somersaults. The girls saw the boy playing through a small opening in the lodge. The elder one said to her sister, “We are not going to him; we are not going in.”

The younger one replied, “But our father told us, ‘You will positively go inside.’ And now we are going inside.” “I will not stay with him here at all; rather, I will go to Raven.” And the elder sister went away, even though the younger one coaxed her, “But father told us! The younger sister then went into the lodge. The boy ran across to his grandmother and sat there with her. The girl sat down. The boy said to his grandmother, “Hurry, give her something so that she will go.”

“No, grandson, she has come here to live.” Thus she stayed there. In the morning the crier announced, “You, as many as there are, newly-married men will go after buffalo and bring them in close by.”

The boy arose very, very early and told his grandmother, “You will tell her that she must meet me with water.” Then he went. In the evening all the brides met the men, and the young women now took water out to meet him.

Coyote met her there. “Where are you going? The boy has already been trampled into the ground somewhere. They are saying that his grandmother now weeps. Come this way to carve beef.” She heeded him not. Then she met her sister, who also derided her, “Come, let us both take this water for Raven. Your boy has already been trampled under.”

“No.” From there she looked for him. She saw him over in that direction. He had killed two excellent, fat buffalo. She gave him water, and he proceeded to cut up the beef. Then they packed one apiece and went homeward. The young woman soon tired, and the boy said to her, “Give it to me; let me take all. Pack me up.” They brought it to the lodge, and he told his grandmother, “Now let her take all to give to her father.” The grandmother told her this, “Take all to give to your father.” Now the woman took it, and still from a distance she heard her father pounding. She arrived to behold him splitting open a buffalo’s head.

Raven had brought back only .the heads since he wanted only brow-fat, and for that reason he would always pack only the heads to give to the old man. The younger sister said to him, “Leave those alone lest you hit yourself. Here, I’ve brought much meat for you.” She threw away all his buffalo heads.”

Again Coyote announced, “Tomorrow you will rest, and you will make moccasins for the men, but on the following morning you newly-married men will go forth again.”

The Elder Brother told his grandmother, “You may tell the woman that she is to go to her father’s lodge to make moccasins for me there, and there will be no reason for her to come home.” The old woman told this to her, “You will come only once, in the evening.” Then she went home to her father’s. Already her sister had arrived at their father’s, and they made moccasins for their husbands. Again the elder sister laughed at her, “Let us both make these large moccasins for Raven, then later you can easily make some for the boy with thin scraps of skin.”

The younger sister said nothing. Her father and she remained silent. Then her father said to her, “Make moccasins for him as large as mine. The boy told me to have it so.” Thereupon she made for the boy moccasins as large in size as the old man’s foot.

Now in another place were the grandmother and the boy. He said to his grandmother, “Build for me a lodge, very large and tight, and then you will tie me to the smoke hole. You will not look inside even though you may hear something. Do not, absolutely, look inside; but when I call you, you will come in.”

The old woman accordingly busied herself at this and finally finished. Now she hung him from the smoke hole and went outside to sit. In a short time she heard a noise within, the sound of falling objects. She stayed outside there for nearly half a day.

Finally she heard him call, “Ready! Come in grandmother and untie me; I am beginning already to feel cramps.” She went into the lodge and saw, all piled up, many things (all that which he had swallowed a long time before.) He said to her again, “You are now to build another lodge.” Soon they had a very large buckskin lodge. She erected a splendid, large lodge.

Now in the evening his wife came home. She was going along in that direction when she happened to look over this way. “Oh, somebody has moved in with us. they must be seeing my husband.” She went on to the lodge. She happened to glance into the lodge through a hole and suddenly beheld a very handsome man, a man of fine presence and of ornamented dress. From outside there she just stared. “A man so handsome to look upon,” she thought. The man caught sight of her at the same time from within the lodge.

She heard the old woman and him speak to each other, and then the old woman called to her, “Come in! It is your husband that has become thus.”
Now she went in and just sat there. In the morning the husband said to his wife, “You will meet me. You will put water in a pail, mix it with white clay, and bring that water to meet me.”

Coyote announced again, “All get ready; take water to meet the newly-married men.” Now the wives all took water to meet them. Here again the elder sister derided her, “Let us both take water to meet Raven; already the boy must be trampled under somewhere.” Now a man came into view on the hill, glittering in ornate dress, a handsome man. The elder sister said, “Sister, you should be meeting that man. Your husband has been trampled under somewhere.”

“Yes, as if I am not taking water to meet that one.” They went on but now she seemed to direct her steps toward that man of fine appearance, and her sister accompanied her just saying the while, “Truly sister? You are taking water to meet that one?” “Yes, didn’t I tell you!” Now as they were about to meet the man he, too, seemed to approach directly toward her. The elder sister said, “Truly, is that your husband?” “Yes, truly.” “Sister,” she said, “let us both have him for a husband. Let me give him water first.”

Her sister replied; “Very well; go ahead and give water first.” The man came upon them in his very finely ornamented attire.

There she offered him her horn water container which she was bringing to give to Raven. Hers was a mixture of water and ashes. She offered the container, but the man struck it, thrust it aside this way, and said, “Away! I might contaminate yours with nasal mucus. I am that one who exudes nasal mucus.” Then the other woman, his wife, gave him hers and he drank. Soon Raven appeared cawing, almost dying of heat, and thirsting. But none of his wife’s water was left because the man had upset and spilled it. The husband said, “There, over that way, I have killed two buffalo.”

They went over there. He had killed two very fine, fat ones. Now he carved the beeves, and they took the meat home. He said to her, “All right; take this meat and give it to your father.” The woman packed it on her back again and took it. She heard from a distance her father’s pounding as he tried to break apart some buffalo heads. She came up to him, threw away all the heads, and gave him the meat.

Raven [himala' tna] became deeply offended at this. “Then we will move away and take all the buffalo [qoq'a' lx],” he and his wife said to each other. They rounded up all, every one of the buffalo, and drove them away.

The people lived for days, consumed all their meat, and now they hungered. Coyote had already made family connections, had attached himself to Elder Brother as “My nephew.” He fared well there.

One day Raven said to his wife, “Let me feel them out to find out how the people are passing the days, or perhaps how many have starved to death.” He went to the people, saw them, and returned. “Although they are poor, they still live.” Already a baby, a daughter, had been born to Raven and his wife. Again the days passed and he said to her, “I go again to see in what manner the people are spending the days.”

Then Beaver [ta' xtspol] told the people, “Now Raven comes again. Cut me open, take out all my intestines, and place my hands close to my face. When Raven will try to procure my brow-fat, I will grasp him very well. Thereupon, right away, you will come to aid me lest he struggle free.” Now the people cut the Beaver open, placed his intestines to one side, and soon they saw Raven come dashing up. From the lodges nearby they looked, watched him most eagerly.

“Already my friend the Beaver has starved to death. Possibly he has good brow-fat,” Raven said to himself. Nevertheless he was wary and somewhat fearful. “It may be that he only pretends to be dead,” he thought. From very high up he swooped upon him, swishing the air with his wings ["xiw"}, but the Beaver did not move at all or even blink. "It is true that he has starved; it is impossible that intestines of the living should be strewn around." Nevertheless he was still somewhat afraid, and he swooped upon the Beaver again and again. Finally he thought, "Then it is truly so, that he is dead." Here Raven was pure white. Now he lighted. For a short time and quickly he worked over the brow-fat and again flew away. Now he became more leisurely, seeming to feel more at ease; and he occupied himself with Beaver's brow-fat.

"Oh, he is hurting me now," thought Beaver. Then, suddenly, he clutched him with his hands. Oh, the people came running out from all the lodges; there they all seized Raven. Coyote just kicked him around. "This is the one who causes us to hunger! Where did you take our buffalo?"

Raven told them nothing. The people tied him to the smoke hole of a lodge and built a fire under him. Now he suffered from the heat and from smoke in his eyes. He became black, but still he would not answer when they said to him, "Where did you take our buffalo?"

Finally, when their fire became altogether too hot, and he was fairly overcome, he told them, "Untie me, and I will tell you which way I took the buffalo." That is all he would tell them.

The people said to one another, "Then let us untie him, and he will tell us." They started to take him down from the top, but while they were doing this, he suddenly broke loose. Oh, just straight upward he went, right upward, far upward.

The Bat [u' ts'vts] lost sight of him at once even while Raven was near, but still he kept telling others, “There he is going on!” Coyote, too, lost sight long before, but he told them, “There he is going on yet.”

Now the Screech Owl was the last to really see him. As Raven went higher, very far upward, the Owl having very keen eyesight still saw him. Owl told them, “There! In this direction he heads.” Now they said to one another, “We must follow him.” They made ready. “Now we follow him.”

Now Coyote hungered and professed a kinship, “Nephew,” to Elder Brother. The people placed the Beaver’s entrails back and sewed him up. Then all the people followed Raven. They just followed him a long, long time. Eventually, many of them began to fall out. Finally, only a few went on.

Only the Blue Racer [k'uyi' uyimnim], the Pestle [pi' lay], and Weasel [ts't' U la] persisted. These persisted. “Now we alone are following him, we three.” After a long time they came upon evidences of Raven’s camping. Then they came upon fresher traces of camping and of recent departure. Here they picked up scraps of food, because they were hungry. “Look! Beyond comes a girl.” Here came a girl, coming along back.

“What shall we become? Hurry!” “I will become a very handsome little pestle.” “And I will be a digging stick,” Blue Racer told them. “And I will be a very lovable dog,” added the Weasel. Soon the girl came up to them. The lovable little dog barked at her. “Oh, in going away I left my dog.” The dog welcomed her so gladly, just capered around her. “Let her love me,” Weasel was saying to himself.

“Oh, in moving away I forgot my pestle, and I forgot my digging stick, too.” She picked up these things and carried them home. The dog just scampered around. She arrived at the lodge and took the little pestle, the digging stick, and the dog inside to show them to her mother. It happened that the father was absent, occupied somewhere.

Her mother, too, just loved the dog. They forgot that which Raven had always told them, “Do not ever bring anything or anyone here. Always be fearful of everything.” Now the dog barked around and ran about very lovably.

The girl said to her mother, “He is so clever. Let me take him to the buffalo to see what he will do to them.” They had constructed a great cellar to be entered through the door only. Now the girl took the dog there and opened the door. Oh, there were the buffalo in confinement, all under cover. The dog, at first, pretended to be frightened. “Oh, he is afraid of them, mother!”

“Do it again! Open it for him again,” said her mother. “Why am I pretending fear?” the dog said to himself. Suddenly he dashed and barked at the buffalo very fiercely. Now the buffalo became frightened and began to rear and plunge about. The dog, in desperation, greatly increased his attack. Even though she tried to close the door, the buffalo began to dash out, in no way to be stopped. All the buffalo rushed out while the dog barked at them furiously. That which had been a digging stick just threw himself and mounted a buffalo, just wound himself around. In the same way Pestle mounted a buffalo. The dog drove them on and on.

Then Raven’s wife felt humiliated. “My husband will be deeply angry at me.” Thus Blue Racer, Pestle, and Weasel recovered the buffalo and drove them galloping home. Soon Raven came home. He was deeply angry. “I have told you before never to cease being fearful, suspicious of everything. Now they have recovered the buffalo from us.”

Taken from Tales of the Nez Perce by Donald M. Hines, Ye Galleon Press; Fairfield, Washington, 1999 [gathered from other source books dated between 1912 and 1949]

There were two brothers. The elder took for his wife an eastern maiden, and they lived in the East Country. They were four, the husband and wife, the younger brother and the wife’s father.

It developed that the younger brother became homesick. He would say to himself, “Ah me! ['qi' ttsayqan] I wish I could go to the West Country now.”

The woman overheard him, and she told her father, “My husband’s brother is homesick. Just now I overheard him say, ‘Ah me! I wish I could go to the West Country now.’”

Her father said to her, “Then why do you let him pine for his homeland? Take him!”

The woman then told her husband, “This is what my father said to me.”

The husband replied, “It is for us, then, to take him.” So they wrapped him in elk hide and mounted him, or rather packed him on an elk. They told him, “You positively must not struggle to free yourself even though you will hear a great din. You must not peep from the hide.”

He replied to them, “That I certainly will not do.”

Then the father told them, “You are to cross over five mountains, and only there he may look about, but not on this side. You are to take wild sheep, elk, buffalo and moose.’ Then they wrapped him in the hide and mounted him. They went.

Now the younger brother heard from within the constant thundering ["xim-, xim-"] of the herd all along the way. It was particularly noisy at the crossings, because there the buffalo and others would lose one another in the crowding. It was very, very noisy. Then he said to himself as they went along, “Oh, how I wish, oh, how I wish that I could see then even once.” And so he gnawed a hole.

Meanwhile at home the old man kept count of their days spent in travel. “They must have reached there by this time.” They crossed three mountains and were at the fourth. Then, again the younger brother heard them. Oh, the thundering of the herd ["xim-xim-"] He gnawed his way through-and saw them. Oh! In droves there were the buffalo wild sheep, moose, and elk. but, because he saw them, they ran homeward pell-mell. The ran wildly and arrived back whence they had started.

The old man said to himself, “I told them, ‘Positively do not let him see them; positively he must not peep,’ and now he has disobeyed.” They all returned, and they stayed there for a long time.

One day the woman overheard him again, “Ah me! I wish I could arrive in the We Country now.” The woman went to her father and said to him, “He is longing for h homeland very deeply again.”

The old man said to her, “If you wish to take him again, then mount him on a buffalo bull, one which has tough and very thick skin between the shoulder blades. He will not bite through that easily.”

The woman told this to her husband, and again they said to him, “We are taking you only once more, and you know already what will happen if you see the herd even once.”

He said to them now, “Positively I will not again become impatient; even if I want see them, I will absolutely not struggle.”

“Yes,” the old man replied, “yes, you speak good words. You are to go now.” The wrapped him in a buffalo hide and mounted him on a bull. Thus they went again. Now he heard from within the thundering ['xim-, xim-"] of the herd of buffalo, wild sheep, and others as they traveled along.

Again he thought, “I wish I could only see them. I wish I could only see them.” The again, going along he began to gnaw a hole. The hide was thick and tough. At home the old man kept calculating the time that they had been gone. “They have reached there,” he thought. “I wish they would cross the last mountain because then they could have those buffalo, wild sheep, elk, and moose for all time. They have gone for the last time absolutely. If he returns, never again will I send them, even if he pines for home.”

Now they arrived at the last mountain; and as they crossed the younger brother heard the thundering ["xim-, xim-"] of the herd behind him. He exerted himself to the utmost and gnawed his way through. And he saw them. They were crossing in this direction; but, oh, they came to a sudden halt, turned around at once, and ran never again to be brought back. All the elk, wild sheep, moose, and buffalo stayed there in the East Country. Had they crossed the fifth mountain, they would have remained in the West Country for all rime. That is the reason why there have never been moose, wild sheep, buffalo and elk west of the mountain divide.

Taken from Tales of the Nez Perce by Donald M. Hines, Ye Galleon Press; Fairfield, Washington, 1999 [gathered from other source books dated between 1912 and 1949]

The people of a certain region were living together in a very large camp. Their chief had two beautiful daughters of marriageable age. Many young men had proposed to them, but all had been refused. The chief said, “Whom do my daughters wish to marry? They have refused all the men.” Sun and Star, who were brother and sister, lived in the sky, and had seen all that had happened. Sun said to his sister, “The chief’s daughters have rejected the suits of all our friends. Let us go down and arrange this matter! Let us try these girls!” They made clothes, and at night they descended to earth.

During the darkness they erected a lodge on the outskirts of the camp. It had the appearance of being very old, and of belonging to poor people. The poles were old and badly selected. The covering was tattered and patched, and made of tule mats. The floor was strewn with old dried brush and grass, and the beds were of the same material. Their blankets consisted of old mats and pieces of old robes; and their kettles and cups were of bark, poorly made. Star had assumed the form of a decrepit old woman dressed in rags; and Sun, that of a dirty boy with sore eyes.

On the following morning the women of the camp saw the lodge, and peered in. When they returned, they reported, “Some very poor people arrived during the night, and are camped in an old mat lodge. We saw two persons inside,–a dirty, sore-eyed boy; and his grandmother, a very old woman in ragged clothes.”

Now, the chief resolved to find husbands for his daughters. He sent out his speaker to announce that in four days there would be a shooting-contest open to all the men, and the best marksman would get his daughters for wives. The young men could not sleep for eagerness. On the third day the chief’s speaker announced, “To-morrow morning every one shall shoot. Each one will have two shots. An eagle will perch on the tall tree yonder; and whoever kills it shall have the chief’s daughters.” Coyote was there and felt happy. He thought he would win the prize. On the following morning an eagle was seen soaring in the air, and there was much excitement as it began to descend. It alighted on a tree which grew near one end of the camp. Then the young men tried to shoot it. Each man had two arrows. The previous evening Sun had said to Star, “Grandmother, make a bow and arrows for me.” She said, “What is the use? You cannot shoot. You never used bow and arrows.” He replied, “I am going to try. I shall take part in the contest to-morrow. I heard what the chief said.” She took pity on him, and went to a red willow-bush, cut a branch for a bow, and some twigs for arrows. She strung the bow with a poor string, and did not feather the arrows.

Coyote, who was afraid some one else might hit the bird, shouted, “I will shoot first. Watch me hit the eagle.” His arrow struck the lowest branch of the tree and fell down, and the people laughed. He said, “I made a mistake. That was a bad arrow. This one will kill the eagle.” He shot, and the arrow fell short of the first one. He became angry, and pulled other arrows from his quiver. He wanted to shoot them all. The people seized him, and took away his arrows, saying, “You are allowed to shoot twice only.” All the people shot and missed. When the last one had shot, Sun said, “Grandmother, lift the door of the lodge a little, so that I can shoot.” She said, “First get out of bed.” She pulled the lodge mat aside a little, and he shot. The arrow hit the tail of the eagle. The people saw and heard the arrow coming from Dirty-Boy’s lodge, but saw no one shooting it. They wondered. He shot the second arrow, which pierced the eagle’s heart.

Now, Wolf and others were standing near Dirty-Boy’s lodge, and Wolf desired much to claim the prize. He shouted, “I shot the bird from the lodge-door!” and ran to pick it up; but the old woman Star ran faster than he, picked up the bird, and carried it to the chief. She claimed his daughters for her grandson. All the people gathered around, and made fun of Dirty-Boy. They said, “He is bedridden. He is lousy, sore-eyed, and scabby-faced.” The chief was loath to give his daughters to such a person. He knew that Dirty-Boy could not walk. Therefore he said , “To-morrow there shall be another contest. This will be the last one, I cannot break my word. Whoever wins this time shall have my daughters.”

He announced that on the morrow each man should set two traps for fishers an animal very scarce at the place where the camp was located. If any one should catch a fisher one night, then he was to stay in the mountains another day to catch a second one. After that he had to come back. Those who caught nothing the first night had to come home at once. Only two traps were allowed to each man; and two fishers had to be caught,–one a light one, and one a dark one,–and both prime skins. When all the men had gone to the mountains, Sun said to his sister, “Grandmother, make two traps for me.” She answered, “First get out of bed!” However, she had pity on him, and made two deadfalls of willow sticks. She asked him where she should set them; and he said, “One on each side of the lodge-door.”

On the following morning all the men returned by noon; not one of them had caught a fisher. When Star went out, she found two fine fishers in the traps. Now the chief assembled the men to see if any one had caught the fishers. He was glad, because he knew that Dirty-Boy could not walk; and unless he went to the mountains, he had no chance to kill fishers. Just then the old grandmother appeared, dragging the fishers. She said, “I hear you asked for two fishers; here are two that my grandson caught.” She handed them over to him, and then left.

Coyote had boasted that he would certainly catch the fishers. When he went up the mountain, he carried ten traps instead of two. He said, “Whoever heard of setting only two traps? I shall set ten.” He set them all, remained out two nights, but got nothing.

The chief said to his daughters, “You must become the wives of Dirty-Boy. I tried to save you by having two contests; but since I am a great chief, I cannot break my word. Go now, and take up your abode with your husband.” They put on their best clothes and went. On the way they had to pass Raven’s house, and heard the Ravens laughing inside, be cause the girls had to marry Dirty-Boy. The elder sister said, “Let us go in and-see what they are laughing about!” The younger one said, “No, our father told us to go straight to our husband.” The elder one went in, and sat down beside Raven’s eldest son. She became his wife. Like all the other Ravens, he was ugly, and had a big head; but she thought it better to marry him than to become the wife of a dirty, sickly boy.

The younger one went on, entered Dirty-Boy’s lodge, and sat down by his side. The old woman asked her who she was, and why she had come. When the old woman had been told, she said, “Your husband is sick, and soon he will die. He stinks too much. You must not sleep with him. Go back to your father’s lodge every evening; but come here in the daytime, and watch him and attend him.”

Now, the Raven family that lived close by laughed much at the younger daughter of the chief. They were angry because she had not entered their house and married there, as her elder sister had done. To hurt her feelings, they dressed their new daughter-in-law in the finest clothes they had. Her dress was covered with beads, shells, elk’s teeth, and quill-work. They gave her necklaces, and her mother-in-law gave her a finely polished celt of green stone (jade) to hang at her belt. The younger sister paid no attention to this, but returned every morning to help her grandmother-in-law to gather fire-wood, and to attend to her sick husband.

For three days matters remained this way. In the evening of the third day Sun said to his sister, “We will resume our true forms to-night, so that people may see us to-morrow.” That night they transformed themselves.” The old mat lodge became a fine new skin lodge, surpassing those of the Blackfoot and other tribes, richly decorated with ornaments, and with streamers tied to the top and painted. The old bark kettle became a bright copper kettle; and new pretty woven baskets, and embroidered and painted bags, were in the house. The old woman became a fine-looking person of tall figure, with clothes covered with shining stars. Dirty-Boy became a young, handsome man of light complexion. His clothes were covered with shining copper. His hair reached to the ground and shone like the rays of the sun. In the morning the people saw the new lodge, and said, “Some rich chief has arrived, and has camped where the poor people were. He has thrown them out.”

When the girl arrived, she was much surprised to see the transformation. She saw a woman in the door, wearing a long skin dress covered with star pendants, with bright stars in her hair. She addressed her in a familiar voice, saying, “Come in and sit with your husband!” The girl then knew who she was. When she entered, she saw a handsome man reclining, with his head on a beautiful parfleche. His garments and hair were decorated with bright suns. The girl did not recognize him, and looked around. The woman said, “That is your husband; go and sit beside him.” Then she was glad.

Sun took his wife to the copper kettle which stood at the door. It contained a shining liquid. He pushed her head into it, and when the liquid ran down over her hair and body, lines of sparkling small stars formed on her. He told her to empty the kettle. When she did so, the liquid ran to the chief’s lodge, forming a path, as of gold-dust. He said, “This will be your trail when you go to see your father.”

(OKANAGON: Teit, Memoirs of the American Folk-Lore Society, xi, 85, No. 6)

Tales of the North American Indians, by Stith Thompson [1929] and is now in the public domain’

The land people [wu' lawtalikin— four-footed people] and the denizens of the air [rviyi''wtalikin — flying people] engaged in war. One old woman’s daughter was on the side of the land people, and she was killed. The old woman knew that she was with child. So she cut open her daughter’s belly and brought forth a boy, Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy [itsat'v' xtshatswal] The boy grew, and grew, and grew.

One day Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy said to his grandmother, “Where did I come from? Where are my mother and father?”

His grandmother wept and said to him, “Long ago there were many people and they engaged in war. They killed your father and mother. I cut open your mother, took you out, and raised you here. That is how you came to be, grandson.”

“Yes,” Cut,-0ut-of-Belly Boy replied, “it is well that you tell me.” Now then he purified himself.1 He bathed every day, every day, every day. “Now I seek vengeance. Now I prepare to go. I will go forth to attack them.” One morning he said to his grandmother, “I am leaving you now.”

His grandmother wept and said to him, “You are doing a foolish thing; you defy dangerous ones. Your wish to avenge yourself all alone is hopeless. They are many, and they vanquished all the people.” The old woman only wept.

He said to her, “I am leaving you now.” He traveled along. The denizens of the air were holding many land people in slavery, Coyote among them. All these who had been conquered were being held in pitiful subjection. Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy knew where many people of the air were living.

As he went along he heard the drumming ["t’l’ pipip, t’l’ pipip"} and words of Pheasant of the blackbrush [waswasno' na]. “Do they say Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy is greatly to be feared? Thus I am going to do to him.” And he drummed viciously [“t’l’ pipip, t’l’ pipip].

Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy went over in that direction, and he seized the Pheasant suddenly. “This one made a waif of mel” He plucked out all the wing feathers and threw them all into the bush. “This pompous one tries to make himself fearsome.”

He went on from there again. He heard shouting as he went along and heard boys again, “Get him from the other side for the terrible one! Get him from the other side for the terrible one!”

He thought, “For what terrible one are they doing this?” He came upon them suddenly and said to them, “What are you doing, boys?”

“It is for Owl, the terrible one [saxlata' mono.]. He is holding us, and he makes us go hunting for rabbits. Then even if we bring in some rabbits he, alone, eats and tells us, ‘If you ever take any, I will kill you.’ ” They had sores all over their bodies. They were burnt and beaten, very pitifully so. Coyote was among them.

Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy said to them, “Pick up wood!” Now he built a fire. “Now give me rabbits!” Then he prepared food for them and anointed their chapped skins.

They were frightened. “Owl will kill us; he is very terrible.”

“I will follow you later. Hurry, eat!” he assured them. He made them eat heartily all of that which they had caught. “Now go home empty-handed.” He followed them. “Now go inside.” He waited and listened outside.

Owl had a conical lodge. He sat there and with such large eyes glared at them. “So you ate your own kill! So you ate your own kill! Ate your own kill! Then eat your own kill! Then eat your own kill!” he chanted to them. They stood agape with fright. Owl had a dried mouse filled with pebbles. Its mouth was pried open. This he rattled and rattled ["sa' yayay, sa' yayay"] to frighten them.

Outside, Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy thought that they had been frightened enough. He entered gently, went inside. Then Owl glared. “Oh, so it was you then who caused them to eat! Caused them to eat! Then cause them to eat! Then cause them to eat!” He held his dried mouse up to Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy’s face and rattled it and rattled it ["sa' yayay, sa' yayay"].

Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy moved his face from one side to the other. “Aside with it! You might strike my eyes. Aside with it, Owl!” Now Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy seized him. Then in the same manner as he had done to Pheasant before, he plucked the feathers from Owl’s wings. “This one talks himself into fearsomeness! This one made a waif of me!”

He threw Owl out through the smoke-hole to fall into the brush, to hang there and moan ["han-, han-, han-"]. “Only a short time away the human race is coming. People will say, ‘Already it is this time of the year for the moaner is moaning,’ ” Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy addressed him.

Turning to the boys he said to them, “Inform me!”

“Many people of the air live over there, in that direction.” Then they all went from there and followed Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy. Coyote placed himself in front to inform him that this and that was the situation. They arrived. Oh, there were so many lodges, all laid out in a great circle.

When he arrived there, the people knew already that Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy was greatly to be feared. He had two arrows. He shot one arrow in that direction and demolished all; he shot the other arrow in this direction and demolished all; he exterminated them all. When they had learned that Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy was coming, the denizens of the air had lined up in a formation of two files thinking that from such a position they could charge best. But, instead, he shot all the men because they were grouped in exactly the right way for him.

Now all those who had been conquered before rushed to the scene of action and went into the lodges to capture the women who were left unprotected.

Meanwhile, Coyote charmed himself, “Become a man, handsome and big.” So a great many of the air people’s women became his wives. Thus it was that Cut-Out-of-Belly Boy avenged himself.

Taken from Tales of the Nez Perce by Donald M. Hines, Ye Galleon Press; Fairfield, Washington, 1999 [gathered from other source books dated between 1912 and 1949]

Once there was a little boy. He was an orphan. This boy cried day and night and would never be quiet. His grandmother asked him one day, “What makes you cry?”

He said, “I cry because I want a wife.” Now his grandparents knew of a girl who lived toward the east and they sent him there. As he went along the
trail, he came to a giant’s house. He went in to see the giant, who asked him to stay to breakfast. The giant had five roasts on the fire. He had four large roasts and one small one.

He said to the boy, “Pick out the roast you want for breakfast.”

The boy picked out the small roast. Now, the four large roasts were the legs of people that the giant had killed. The small roast was venison. The boy knew this from what his grandmother had told him. She said, “Never eat too much.”

After breakfast he went on. On the road he came to a great rock cliff. Its name was Cliff-Giant and it crushed people. The other giant had told him of this one, and how to get by it.

He had said, “Turn yourself into a little dog and very slowly follow the trail under the Rock-Cliff. Keep your eye on Rock-Cliff. When you see it move, run fast.”

He did this and escaped. Then he went on. He could see at a distance the place where the girl lived. Until he came in sight of this lodge he had never left off crying. Now, this girl had a great horse which would kill people before they could reach her lodge. That was her guard. The boy picked up two large stones and ran, still crying, toward the lodge. The animal ran at the boy, but the boy spat all over one of the stones. When the horse came close, he threw the stone behind him. Then the horse stopped to stamp on the stone and the boy ran on. He was almost in reach of the lodge when he threw the other stone. The horse stopped to stamp on that, and the boy reached the lodge and jumped in.

Very soon the girl entered. She knew him at once and called him by name Iwapnep ftswitki, Cry-because-he-had-no-wife. She talked to him and asked him if he wanted a bath. So she built a fire, heated water, and prepared him a bath. When he had taken the bath he became of man’s size. Next morning
they started toward his home. When they reached this, his grandparents were very old, because he had been gone many years.

The girl said to her husband: “You tell your grandparents to do nothing wrong to-night. If they obey, I will give them a bath that will make them
young again.”

In the morning she did so; but they had not obeyed her directions so they did not become young again. The next night they were both dead. Then the girl and her husband started for her old home. They rode back on the great horse but he did not go very well. They made a whip out of black haw.

The whip said to them, “I can outlast all other whips.”

They made a whip out of smoke-wood (Coyote-rope). This whip said, “When the giant gets too close, throw me down and I will tangle up the giant.” They made a whip out of mud. This whip said, “Throw me down and I will mire the giant.”

They made a whip out of slide-rock. This whip said, “Throw me down and the giant will have trouble in getting by.” They made a whip out of red haw. This whip said, “Throw me down, and I will tear the giant’s flesh.”

They made a whip out of big mountains. This whip said, “Throw me down and the giant will not be able to get past me.”

When they had finished all the whips, they started to pass the giant’s house.

The giant rushed out and cried, “Give me your wife!” The boy answered, “Get me a drink of water and I will give you my wife.”

When the giant went to get the water, the boy whipped up the horse and hurried on. They had gone some ways when the giant came out. They threw down the whip of black haw. He almost overtook them and they threw down the whip of smoke-wood. It tangled up the giant until they got away. When the giant almost overtook them again, they threw down the mud whip and he was mired. When the giant almost overtook them the fourth time, they threw down the slide-rock whip and the giant had great trouble in getting by. When the giant almost overtook them the fifth time, they threw down the red-haw whip, and it tore the flesh of the giant. And when the giant almost overtook them the sixth time, they threw down the whip of high mountains and he could not cross it. Thus they escaped.

[Taken from Coyote Was Ging There - Indian Liturature of the Oregon Country, Compiled and edited by Jarold Ramsey, 1977]