TSULʻKĂLÛ′, THE SLANT-EYED GIANT

TSULʻKĂLÛ′, THE SLANT-EYED GIANT

A long time ago a widow lived with her one daughter at the old town of Kănuga
on Pigeon river. The girl was of age to marry, and her mother used to talk with
her a good deal, and tell her she must be sure to take no one but a good hunter
for a husband, so that they would have some one to take care of them and would
always have plenty of meat in the house. The girl said such a man was hard to
find, but her mother advised her not to be in a hurry, and to wait until the right
one came.
Now the mother slept in the house while the girl slept outside in the âsĭ. One
dark night a stranger came to the âsĭ wanting to court the girl, but she told him
her mother would let her marry no one but a good hunter. “Well,” said the
stranger, “I am a great hunter,” so she let him come in, and he stayed all night.
Just before day he said he must go back now to his own place, but that he had
brought some meat for her mother, and she would find it outside. Then he went
away and the girl had not seen him. When day came she went out and found
there a deer, which she brought into the house to her mother, and told her it was
a present from her new sweetheart. Her mother was pleased, and they had
deersteaks for breakfast.
He came again the next night, but again went away before daylight, and this time
he left two deer outside. The mother was more pleased this time, but said to her
daughter, “I wish your sweetheart would bring us some wood.” Now wherever
he might be, the stranger knew their thoughts, so when he came the next time he
said to the girl, “Tell your mother I have brought the wood”; and when she
looked out in the morning there were several great trees lying in front of the
door, roots and branches and all. The old woman was angry, and said, “He might
have brought us some wood that we could use instead of whole trees that we
can’t split, to litter up the road with brush.” The hunter knew what she said, and
the next time he came he brought nothing, and when they looked out in the
morning the trees were gone and there was no wood at all, so the old woman hadmorning the trees were gone and there was no wood at all, so the old woman had
to go after some herself.
Almost every night he came to see the girl, and each time he brought a deer or
some other game, but still he always left before daylight. At last her mother said
to her, “Your husband always leaves before daylight. Why don’t he wait? I want
to see what kind of a son-in-law I have.” When the girl told this to her husband
he said he could not let the old woman see him, because the sight would frighten
her. “She wants to see you, anyhow,” said the girl, and began to cry, until at last
he had to consent, but warned her that her mother must not say that he looked
frightful (usga′sĕʻti′yu).
The next morning he did not leave so early, but stayed in the âsĭ, and when it
was daylight the girl went out and told her mother. The old woman came and
looked in, and there she saw a great giant, with long slanting eyes (tsulʻkălû′),
lying doubled up on the floor, with his head against the rafters in the left-hand
corner at the back, and his toes scraping the roof in the right-hand corner the
door. She gave only one look and ran back to the house, crying, Usga′sĕʻti′yu!
Usga′sĕʻti′yu!
Tsulʻkălû′ was terribly angry. He untwisted himself and came out of the âsĭ, and
said good-e to the girl, telling her that he would never let her mother see him
again, but would go back to his own country. Then he went off in the direction
of Tsunegûñ′yĭ.
Soon after he left the girl had her monthly period. There was a very great flow of
blood, and the mother threw it all into the river. One night after the girl had gone
to bed in the âsĭ her husband came again to the door and said to her, “It seems
you are alone,” and asked where was the child. She said there had been none.
Then he asked where was the blood, and she said that her mother had thrown it
into the river. She told just where the place was, and he went there and found a
small worm in the water. He took it up and carried it back to the âsĭ, and as he
walked it took form and began to grow, until, when he reached the âsĭ, it was a
ba girl that he was carrying. He gave it to his wife and said, “Your mother
does not like me and abuses our child, so come and let us go to my home.” The
girl wanted to be with her husband, so, after telling her mother good-e, she
took up the child and they went off together to Tsunegûñ′yĭ.
Now, the girl had an older brother, who lived with his own wife in anotherNow, the girl had an older brother, who lived with his own wife in another
settlement, and when he heard that his sister was married he came to pay a visit
to her and her new husband, but when he arrived at Kănuga his mother told him
his sister had taken her child and gone away with her husband, nobody knew
where. He was sorry to see his mother so lonely, so he said he would go after his
sister and try to find her and bring her back. It was easy to follow the footprints
of the giant, and the young man went along the trail until he came to a place
where they had rested, and there were tracks on the ground where a child had
been lying and other marks as if a ba had been born there. He went on along
the trail and came to another place where they had rested, and there were tracks
of a ba crawling about and another lying on the ground. He went on and came
to where they had rested again, and there were tracks of a child walking and
another crawling about. He went on until he came where they had rested again,
and there were tracks of one child running and another walking. Still he followed
the trail along the stream into the mountains, and came to the place where they
had rested again, and this time there were footprints of two children running all
about, and the footprints can still be seen in the rock at that place.
Twice again he found where they had rested, and then the trail led up the slope
of Tsunegûñ′yĭ, and he heard the sound of a drum and voices, as if people were
dancing inside the mountain. Soon he came to a cave like a doorway in the side
of the mountain, but the rock was so steep and smooth that he could not climb up
to it, but could only just look over the edge and see the heads and shoulders of a
great many people dancing inside. He saw his sister dancing among them and
called to her to come out. She turned when she heard his voice, and as soon as
the drumming stopped for a while she came out to him, finding no trouble to
climb down the rock, and leading her two little children the hand. She was
very glad to meet her brother and talked with him a long time, but did not ask
him to come inside, and at last he went away without having seen her husband.
Several other times her brother came to the mountain, but always his sister met
him outside, and he could never see her husband. After four years had passed she
came one day to her mother’s house and said her husband had been hunting in
the woods near , and they were getting ready to start home to-morrow, and if
her mother and brother would come early in the morning they could see her
husband. If they came too late for that, she said, they would find plenty of meat
to take home. She went back into the woods, and the mother ran to tell her son.
They came to the place early the next morning, but Tsulʻkălû′ and his familywere already gone. On the drying poles they found the bodies of freshly killed
deer hanging, as the girl had promised, and there were so many that they went
back and told all their friends to come for them, and there were enough for the
whole settlement.
Still the brother wanted to see his sister and her husband, so he went again to the
mountain, and she came out to meet him. He asked to see her husband, and this
time she told him to come inside with her. They went in as through a doorway,
and inside he found it like a great townhouse. They seemed to be alone, but his
sister called aloud, “He wants to see you,” and from the air came a voice, “You
can not see me until you put on a new dress, and then you can see me.” “I am
willing,” said the young man, speaking to the unseen spirit, and from the air
came the voice again, “Go back, then, and tell your people that to see me they
must go into the townhouse and fast seven days, and in all that time they must
not come out from the townhouse or raise the war whoop, and on the seventh
day I shall come with new dresses for you to put on so that you can all see me.”
The young man went back to Kănuga and told the people. They all wanted to see
Tsulʻkălû′, who owned all the game in the mountains, so they went into the
townhouse and began the fast. They fasted the first day and the second and every
day until the seventh—all but one man from another settlement, who slipped out
every night when it was dark to get something to eat and slipped in again when
no one was watching. On the morning of the seventh day the sun was just
coming up in the east when they heard a great noise like the thunder of rocks
rolling down the side of Tsunegûñ′yĭ. They were frightened and drew near
together in the townhouse, and no one whispered. Nearer and louder came the
sound until it grew into an awful roar, and every one trembled and held his
breath—all but one man, the stranger from the other settlement, who lost his
senses from fear and ran out of the townhouse and shouted the war cry.
At once the roar stopped and for some time there was silence. Then they heard it
again, but as if it were going farther away, and then farther and farther, until at
last it died away in the direction of Tsunegûñ′yĭ, and then all was still again. The
people came out from the townhouse, but there was silence, and they could see
nothing but what had been seven days before.
Still the brother was not disheartened, but came again to see his sister, and she
brought him into the mountain. He asked why Tsulʻkâlû′ had not brought the new dresses, as he had promised, and the voice from the air said, “I came with
them, but you did not obey my word, but broke the fast and raised the war cry.”
The young man answered, “It was not done our people, but a stranger. If
you will come again, we will surely do as you say.” But the voice answered,
“Now you can never see me.” Then the young man could not say any more, and
he went back to Kănuga.