Zuni Folktales · The Maiden of the Yellow Rocks (1/3)

The Maiden of the Yellow Rocks

In the days of the ancients, when our ancestors lived in the Village of the Yellow Rocks,5 also in the Salt City,6 also in the Village of the Winds,7 and also in the Village of the White Flowering Herbs, and also in the Village of Odd Waters, where they come forth, when in fact all these broken-down villages were inhabited by our ancients, there lived in the Village of the Yellow Rocks a very beautiful maiden, the daughter of the high priest.

Although a woman, she was wonderfully endowed by birth with the magic knowledge of the hunt and with the knowledge of all the animals who contribute to the sustenance of man⁠—game animals. And, although a woman, she was also somewhat bad in her disposition, and selfish, in that, possessing this knowledge above all other men and women, she concluded she would have all these animals⁠—the deer, antelope, rabbits⁠—to herself. So, through her wonderful knowledge of their habits and language, she communicated with them and charmed them, and on the top of the mountain⁠—where you will see to this day the ancient figures of the deer cut in the rock⁠—she built a huge corral, and gathered one after another all the deer and antelope and other wild animals of that great country. And the hunters of these villages hunted in vain; they trailed the deer and the antelope, but they lost their trails and always came home with nothing save the weapons they took with them. But this maiden, whenever she wished for deer, would go to her corral and kill whatever animal she wanted; so she and her family always had plenty of meat, while others were without it; always had plenty of buckskins with which to make moccasins and apparel, while others were every day wearing out their old supply and never able to replenish it.

Now, this girl was surpassingly beautiful, and was looked upon by many a young man as the flower of his heart and the one on whom he would ultimately concentrate his thoughts for life. Amongst these young men, the first to manifest his feelings was a youth from the Village of the Winds.

One day he said to his old people: “I am going courting.” And they observed that he made up a bundle of various precious things for women’s dress and ornamentation⁠—necklaces, snow-white buckskin moccasins and leggings, and embroidered skirts and mantles⁠—and, taking his bundle on his shoulders, he started off for the Village of the Yellow Rocks.

When he reached the village he knew the home of the maiden by the beauty of the house. Among other houses it was alone of its kind. Attached to the ladder was the crosspiece carved as it is in these days, but depending from it was a fringe of black hair (not scalp-locks) with which they still ornament certain houses when they have sacred ceremonies; and among this fringe were hung hollow stalactites from a sacred cave on the Colorado Chiquito, which sounded, when the wind blew them together, like little bells. This fringe was full of them, so that when a stranger came to this important chief-priest’s house he no sooner touched the ladder-rung at the foot than the bells tinkled, and they knew someone was coming.

As he placed his foot on the lowermost rung of the ladder, chi‑la‑li sang the bells at the top.

Said the people within: “Someone is coming.”

Step after step he went up, and still the bells made music at the top, and as he stepped over on the roof, thud, thud, his footsteps sounded as he walked along; and when he reached the door, those within said: “Thou comest?” And he replied: “I come. Draw me in”; by which expression he meant that he had brought with him a present to the family. Whenever a man has a bundle to hand down, it is the place of the woman to take it; and that is called “drawing a man in,” though she only takes his bundle and he follows. In this case he said “Draw me in,” and the maiden came to the top of the ladder and took the bundle and dropped it on the floor. They knew by the appearance of the bundle what the object of the visit was.

The old man was sitting by the fireplace⁠—it was nighttime⁠—and as the stranger entered, said, “Thou hast come?”

The young man answered: “Yes.”

Said the old man: “It is not customary for a stranger to visit the house of a stranger without saying something of what may be in his thoughts.”

“It is quite true,” said the youth; “I come thinking of this maiden, your daughter. It has occurred to me that I might happily and without fear rest my thoughts and hopes on her; therefore I come.”

The daughter brought forth food for the young man and bade him eat. He reached forth his hand and partook of the food. She sat down and took a mouthful or two, whereby they knew she was favorably disposed. She was favorably disposed to all appearance, but not in reality. When he had finished eating, she said: “As you like, my father. You are my father.” She answered to her own thoughts: “Yes, you have often reproached me for not treating with more gentleness those who come courting me.”

Finally said the father: “I give ye my blessing and sacred speech, my children. I will adopt thee as my child.”8

“My children,” said the father, after a while, when he had smoked a little, “the stranger, now a son, has come a long distance and must be weary.”

So the maiden led him to an upper chamber, and said: “Rest here; you are not yet my husband. I would try you in the morning. Get up early, when the deer are most plentiful, and go forth and slay me a fine one, and then indeed shall we rest our hopes and thoughts on each other for life.”

“It is well,” said the youth; and he retired to sleep, and in the morning arose early. The maiden gave into his hands the food for the day; he caught up his bows and arrows and went forth into the forests and mountains, seeking for the deer. He found a superb track and followed it until it suddenly disappeared, and though he worked hard and followed it over and over again, he could find nothing. While the young man was out hunting and following the tracks for nothing, the young girl went out, so as to be quite sure that none of her deer should get out; and what did she do? She went into the river and followed it against the current, through the water beyond the village and where the marked rocks stand, up the canyon to the place where her deer were gathered. They were all there, peaceful and contented. But there were no tracks of the girl; no one could follow where she went.

The young man hunted and hunted, and at nighttime, all tired out and hungry, took his way back to the home of the maiden. She was there.

“Ha!” said she, “what good fortune today?”

And the young man with his face dragged down and his eyes not bright, answered: “I found no game today.”

“Well,” said the girl, “it is too bad; but under the circumstances we cannot rest our thoughts and hopes on each other for life.”

“No, I suppose not,” said the young man.

“Here is your bundle,” said the girl. She raised it very carefully and handed it to him. He took it over his shoulder, and after all his weary work went on his way home.

The very next day a young man named Hálona, when he heard of this, said: “Ha! ha! What a fool he was! He didn’t take her enough presents; he didn’t please her. I am said to be a very pleasant fellow” (he was a very conceited young man); “I will take her a bundle that will make things all right.”

So he put into a bundle everything that a woman could reasonably want⁠—for he was a wealthy young man, and his bundle was very heavy⁠—put on his best dress, and with fine paint on his face started for the home of the maiden. Finally, his foot touched the lowermost rung of the ladder; the stalactites went jingling above as he mounted, and thud went his bundle as he dropped it on the roof.

“Somebody has come,” said the people below. “Listen to that!”

The maiden shrugged her shoulders and said: “Thou comest?”

“Yes,” answered the young man; “draw me in.”

So she reached up and pulled the huge bundle down into the room, placing it on the floor, and the young man followed it down.

Said the old man, who was sitting by the fire, for it was night: “Thou comest. Not thinking of nothing doth one stranger come to the house of another. What may be thy thoughts?”

The young man looked at the maiden and said to himself: “What a magnificent creature she is! She will be my wife, no fear that she will not.” Then said he aloud: “I came, thinking of your daughter. I would rest my hopes and thoughts on her.”

“It is well,” said the old man. “It is the custom of our people and of all people, that they may possess dignity, that they may be the heads of households; therefore, young men and maidens marry and establish themselves in certain houses. I have no objection. What dost thou think, my daughter?”

“I have no objection,” said the daughter.

“Ah, what did I tell you?” said the youth to himself, and ate with a great deal of satisfaction the meal placed before him.

The father laid out the cornhusks and tobacco, and they had a smoke; then he said to his daughter: “The stranger who is now my son has come a long way, and should not be kept sitting up so long.”

As the daughter led him to another room, he thought: “What a gentle creature she is! How softly she steps up the ladder.”

When the door was reached, she said: “Here we will say good night.”

“What is the matter?” he asked.

Said she: “I would like to know of my husband this much, that he is a good hunter; that I may have plenty of food all my days, and plenty of buckskins for my clothing. Therefore I must ask that in the morning you go forth and hunt the deer, or bring home an antelope for me.”

The young man quickly recovered himself, and said: “It is well,” and lay himself down to rest.

So the next morning he went out, and there was the maiden at the top of the house watching him. He couldn’t wait for daylight; he wanted the Sun, his father, to rise before his time, and when the Sun did rise he jumped out of bed, tied his quiver to his belt, took his bow in his hand, and, with a little luncheon the maiden had prepared for him, started off.

As he went down the river he saw the maiden was watching him from the top of the house; so he started forward and ran until he was out of sight, to show how fine a runner he was and how good a hunter; because he was reputed to be a very strong and active young man. He hunted and hunted, but did not find any deer, nor even any tracks.

Meanwhile, the maiden went up the stream as before and kept watch of the corral; and he fared as the other young man had fared. At night he came home, not quite so downcast as the other had been, because he was a young man of more self-reliance.

She asked, as she met him: “Haven’t you got any deer today?”

He answered: “No.”

She said: “I am sorry, but under the circumstances I don’t see how we can become husband and wife.”

So he carried his bundle home.

The next day there was a young man in the City of Salt who heard of this⁠—not all of it, but he heard that day after day young men were going to the home of this maiden to court her, and she turned them all away. He said: “I dare say they didn’t take enough with them.” So he made up two bundles and went to the home of the maiden, and he said to himself: “This time it will be all right.”

When he arrived, much the same conversation was gone through as before with the other young men, and the girl said, when she lighted him to the door of his room: “My young friend, if you will find a deer for me tomorrow I will become your wife and rest my hope only on you.”

“Mercy on me!” thought the young man to himself, “I have always been called a poor hunter. What shall I do?”

The next morning he tried, but with the same results.

Now, this girl was keeping the deer and antelope and other animals so long closed up in the corral that the people in all the villages round about were ready to die of hunger for meat. Still, for her own gratification she would keep these animals shut up.

The young man came back at evening, and she asked him if he had found a deer for her.

“No,” said he, “I could not even find the trail of one.”

“Well,” she said, “I am sorry, for your bundles are heavy.”

He took them up and went home with them.

Finally, this matter became so much talked about that the two small gods on the top of Thunder Mountain, who lived with their grandmother where our sacrificial altar now stands, said: “There is something wrong here; we will go and court this maiden.” Now, these gods were extremely ugly in appearance when they chose to be⁠—mere pygmies who never grew to man’s stature. They were always boys in appearance, and their grandmother was always crusty with them; but they concluded one night that they would go the next day to woo this maiden.

Said one to the other: “Suppose we go and try our luck with her.” Said he: “When I look at you, you are very handsome.”

Said the other to him: “When I look at you, you are extremely handsome.”

They were the ugliest beings in human form, but in reality were among the most magnificent of men, having power to take any form they chose.

Said the elder one: “Grandmother, you know how much talk there is about this maiden in the Village of the Yellow Rocks. We have decided to go and court her.”

“You miserable, dirty, ugly little wretches! The idea of your going to court this maiden when she has refused the finest young men in the land!”

“Well, we will go,” said he.

“I don’t want you to go,” replied she. “Your names will be in the mouths of everybody; you will be laughed and jeered at.”

“We will go,” said they. And, without paying the slightest attention to their grandmother, they made up their bundle⁠—a very miserable bundle it was; the younger brother put in little rocks and sticks and bits of buckskins and all sorts of worthless things⁠—and they started off.

“What are you carrying this bundle for?” asked Áhaiyúta, the elder brother.

“I am taking it as a present to the maiden,” said Mátsailéma, the younger one.

“She doesn’t want any such trash as that,” said the other. “They have taken very valuable presents to her before; we have nothing to take equal to what has been carried to her by others.”

They decided to throw the bundle away altogether, and started out with absolutely nothing but their bows and arrows.

As they proceeded they began to kill wood-rats, and continued until they had slaughtered a large number and had a long string of them held up by their tails.

“There!” exclaimed the younger brother. “There is a fine present for the girl.” They knew perfectly well how things were, and were looking out for the interests of their children in the villages round about.

“Oh, my younger brother!” said the elder. “These will not be acceptable to the girl at all; she would not have them in the house!”

“Oh, yes, she would,” said the younger; “we will take them along as a present to her.”

So they went on, and it was hardly noon when they arrived with their strings of rats at the white cliffs on the southern side of the canyon opposite the village where the maiden lived.

“Here, let us sit down in the shade of this cliff,” said the elder brother, “for it is not proper to go courting until evening.”

“Oh, no,” said the younger, “let us go along now. I am in a hurry! I am in a hurry!”

“You are a fool!” said the elder brother; “you should not think of going courting before evening. Stay here patiently.”

So they sat down in the shade of the cliff. But the younger kept jumping up and running out to see how the sun was all the afternoon, and he would go and smooth out his string of rats from time to time, and then go and look at the sun again. Finally, when the sun was almost set, he called out: “Now, come on!”

“Wait until it is wholly dark,” said the other. “You never did have any patience, sense, or dignity about you.”

“Why not go now?” asked the younger.