Zuni Folktales · The Maiden of the Yellow Rocks (2/3)

So they kept quarrelling, but the elder brother’s wish prevailed until it was nearly dark, when they went on.

The elder brother began to get very bashful as they approached the village. “I wonder which house it is,” said he.

“The one with the tallest ladder in front of it, of course,” said the other.

Then the elder brother said in a low voice: “Now, do behave yourself; be dignified.”

“All right!” replied the younger.

When they got to the ladder, the elder one said in a whisper: “I don’t want to go up here; I don’t want to go courting; let’s go back.”

“Go along up,” said the younger.

“Keep still; be quiet!” said the elder one; “be dignified!”

They went up the ladder very carefully, so that there was not a tinkle from the bells. The elder brother hesitated, while the younger one went on to the top, and over the edge of the house.

“Now!” cried he.

“Keep still!” whispered the other; and he gave the ladder a little shake as he went, and the bells tinkled at the top.

The people downstairs said: “Who in the world is coming now?”

When they were both on the roof, the elder brother said: “You go down first.”

“I will do nothing of the kind,” said the other, “you are the elder.”

The people downstairs called out: “Who comes there?”

“See what you have done, you simpleton!” said the elder brother. Then with a great deal of dignity he walked down the ladder. The younger one came tumbling down, carrying his string of rats.

“Throw it out, you fool; they don’t want rats!” said the elder one.

“Yes, they do,” replied the other. “The girl will want these; maybe she will marry us on account of them!”

The elder brother was terribly disturbed, but the other brought his rats in and laid them in the middle of the floor.

The father looked up, and said: “You come?”

“Yes,” answered the two odd ones.

“Sit down,” said the old man. So they sat down, and food was placed before them.

“It seems,” said the father, “that ye have met with luck today in hunting,” as he cast his eyes on the string of rats.

“Yes,” said the Two.

So the old priest went and got some prayer-meal, and, turning the faces of the rats toward the east, said a short prayer.

“What did I tell you?” said the younger brother; “they like the presents we have brought. Just see!”

Presently the old man said: “It is not customary for strangers to come to a house without something in mind.”

“Quite so,” said the younger brother.

“Yes, my father,” said the elder one; “we have come thinking of your daughter. We understand that she has been wooed by various young men, and it has occurred to us that they did not bring the right kind of presents.”

“So we brought these,” said the younger brother.

“It is well,” said the old man. “It is the custom for maidens and youths to marry. It rests with my daughter.”

So he referred the matter to his daughter, and she said: “As you think, my father. Which one?”

“Oh, take us both!” said the younger brother.

This was rather embarrassing to the maiden, but she knew she had a safe retreat. So when the father admonished her that it was time to lead the two young men up into the room where the others had been placed, she told them the same story.

They said, “It is well.”

They lay down, but instead of sleeping spent most of the night in speculating as to the future.

“What a magnificent wife we will have,” said one to the other.

“Don’t talk so loud; everyone will hear you; you will be covered with shame!”

After a while they went to sleep; but were awake early the next morning. The younger brother began to talk to the elder one, who said: “Keep quiet; the people are not awake; don’t disturb them!”

The younger one said: “The sun is rising.”

“Keep quiet,” said the other, “and when they are awake they will give us some luncheon to take with us.”

But the younger one jumped up and went rushing about the house, calling out: “The sun is rising; Get up!”

The luncheon was provided, and when they started off the maiden went out on the housetop and asked them which direction they would take.

Said they: “We will go over to the south and will get a deer before long, although we are very small and may not meet with very good luck.”

So they descended the ladder, and the maiden said to herself: “Ugly, miserable little wretches; I will teach them to come courting me in this way!”

The brothers went off to the cliffs, and, while pretending to be hunting, they ran back through the thickets near the house and waited to see what the maiden would do.

Pretty soon she came out. They watched her and saw that she went down the valley and presently ran into the river, leaving no trail behind, and took her course up the stream. They ran on ahead, and long before she had ascended the river found the path leading out of it up the mountain. Following this path, they came to the corral, and, looking over it, they saw thousands of deer, mountain-sheep, antelope, and other animals wandering around in the enclosure.

“Ha! here is the place!” the younger brother exclaimed. “Let us go at them now!”

“Keep quiet! Be patient! Wait till the maiden comes,” said the elder one. “If we should happen to kill one of these deer before she comes, perhaps she has some magic power or knowledge by which she would deprive us of the fruits of our efforts.”

“No, let us kill one now,” said the other. But the elder one kept him curbed until the maiden was climbing the cliff, when he could restrain him no longer, and the youth pulled out his bow and let fly an arrow at the largest deer. One arrow, and the deer fell to the ground, and when the maiden appeared on the spot the deer was lying dead not far away.

The brothers said: “You come, do you? And here we are!”

She looked at them, and her heart went down and became as heavy as a stone, and she did not answer.

“I say, you come!” said the younger brother. “You come, do you?”

She said, “Yes.” Then said she to herself: “Well, I suppose I shall have to submit, as I made the arrangement myself.” Then she looked up and said: “I see you have killed a deer.”

“Yes, we killed one; didn’t have any difficulty at all,” said the younger brother. “Come, and help us skin him; we are so little and hungry and tired we can’t do it. Come on.”

So the girl went slowly forward, and in a dejected way helped them skin the deer. Then they began to shoot more deer, and attempted to drag them out; but the men were so small they could not do it, and the girl had to help them. Then they cut up the meat and made it into bundles. She made a large one for herself, and they made two little ones for themselves.

“Now,” said they, wiping their brows, “we have done a good day’s work, haven’t we?” and they looked at the maiden with twinkling eyes.

“Yes,” said she; “you are great hunters.”

“Shall we go toward home?” asked the younger brother of the maiden. “It would be a shame for you to take such a bundle as that. I will take it for you.”

“You little conceited wretch!” cried the elder brother. “Haven’t I tried to restrain you?⁠—and now you are going to bury yourself under a bundle of meat!”

“No,” said the younger brother, “I can carry it.”

So they propped the great bundle of meat against a tree. The elder brother called on the maiden to help him; the younger one stooped down and received it on his back. They had no sooner let go of it than it fell on the ground and completely flattened the little man out.

“Mercy! mercy! I am dying; help me out of here!” cried he.

So they managed to roll the thing off, and he got up and rubbed his back, complaining bitterly (he was only making believe), and said: “I shall have to take my little bundle.”

So he shouldered his little bundle, and the maiden took the large one; but before she started she turned to the animals and said, “Oh, my children! these many days, throwing the warm light of your favor upon me, you have rested contented to remain away from the sight of men. Now, hereafter you shall go forth whithersoever you will, that the earth may be covered with your offspring, and men may once more have of your flesh to eat and of your pelts to wear.” And away went the antelope, the deer, the mountain-sheep, the elk, and the buffalo over all the land.

Then the young Gods of War turned to the maiden and said: “Now, shall we go home?”

“Yes,” said she.

“Well, I will take the lead,” said the younger brother.

“Get behind where you belong,” said the other; “I will precede the party.” So the elder brother went first, the maiden came next, and the younger brother followed behind, with his little bag of meat.

So they went home, and the maiden placed the meat to dry in the upper rooms of the house.

While she was doing this, it was yet early in the day. The two brothers were sitting together, and whispering: “And what will she say for herself now?”

“I don’t see what she can say for herself.”

“Of course, nothing can she say for herself.”

And when the meat was all packed away in the house and the sun had set, they sat by themselves talking this over: “What can she say for herself?”

“Nothing whatever; nothing remains to be done.”

“That is quite so,” said they, as they went in to the evening meal and sat with the family to eat it.

Finally the maiden said: “With all your hunting and the labors of the day, you must be very weary. Where you slept last night you will find a resting-place. Go and rest yourselves. I cannot consent to marry you, because you have not yet shown yourselves capable of taking care of and dressing the buckskins, as well as of killing deer and antelope and such animals. For a long time buckskins have been accumulating in the upper room. I have no brothers to soften and scrape them; therefore, if you Two will take the hair off from all my buckskins tomorrow before sunset, and scrape the underside so that they will be thin and soft, I will consent to be the wife of one of you, or both.”

And they said: “Oh mercy, it is too bad!”

“We can never do it,” said the younger brother.

“I don’t suppose we can; but we can try,” said the elder.

So they lay down.

“Let us take things in time,” said the elder one, after he had thought of it. And they jumped up and called to the maiden: “Where are those buckskins?”

“They are in the upper room,” said she.

She showed them the way to the upper room. It was packed to the rafters with buckskins. They began to make big bales of these and then took them down to the river. When they got them all down there they said: “How in the world can we scrape so many skins? There are more here than we can clean in a year.”

“I will tell you what,” said the younger brother; “we will stow away some in the crevices of the rocks, and get rid of them in that way.”

“Always hasty, always hasty,” said the elder. “Do you suppose that woman put those skins away without counting every one of them? We can’t do that.”

They spread them out in the water that they might soak all night, and built a little dam so they would not float away. While they were thus engaged they heard someone talking, so they pricked up their ears to listen.

Now, the hill that stands by the side across from the Village of the Yellow Rocks was, and still is, a favorite home of the Field-mice. They are very prolific, and have to provide great bundles of wool for their families. But in the days of the ancients they were terrible gamblers and were all the time betting away their nests, and the young Mice being perfectly bare, with no wool on them at all, died of cold. And still they kept on betting, making little figures of nests and betting these away against the time when they should have more. It was these Mice which the two gods overheard.

Said the younger brother: “Listen to that! Who is talking?”

“Someone is betting. Let us go nearer.”

They went across the river and listened, and heard the tiny little voices calling out and shouting.

“Let us go in,” said the younger brother. And he placed his foot in the hole and descended, followed by the other. They found there an enormous village of Field-mice in human form, their clothes, in the shape of Mice, hanging over the sides of the house. Some had their clothing all off down to their waists, and were betting as hard as they could and talking with one another.

As soon as the two brothers entered, they said: “Who comes?”

The Two answered: “We come.”

“Come in, come in,” cried the Mice⁠—they were not very polite. “Sit down and have a game. We have not anything to bet just now, but if you trust us we will bet with you.”

“What had you in mind in coming?” said an old Field-mouse with a broken tail.

They answered that they had come because they heard voices. Then they told their story.

“What is this you have to do?” asked the Mice.

“To clean all the hair off those pelts tomorrow.”

The Mice looked around at one another; their eyes fairly sparkled and burned.

“Now, then, we will help you if you will promise us something,” said they; “but we want your solemn promise.”

“What is that?” asked the brothers.

“That you will give us all the hair.”

“Oh, yes,” said the brothers; “we will be glad to get rid of it.”

“All right,” said they; “where are the skins?” Then they all began to pour out of the place, and they were so numerous that it was like water, when the rain is falling hard, running over a rock.

When they had all run out the two War-gods drew the skins on the bank, and the Field-mice went to nibbling the hair and cleaning off the underside. They made up little bundles of the flesh from the skins for their food, and great parcels of the hair. Finally they said: “May we have them all?”

“No,” said the brothers, “we must have eight reserved, four for each, so that we will be hard at work all day tomorrow.”

“Well,” said the Mice, “we can’t consent to leaving even so many, unless you promise that you will gather up all the hair and put it somewhere so that we can get it.”

The Two promised that, and said: “Be sure to leave eight skins, will you? and we will go to bed and rest ourselves.”

“All right, all right!” responded the Field-mice.

So the brothers climbed up the hill to the town, and up the ladder, and slept in their room.

The next morning the girl said: “Now, remember, you will have to clean every skin and make it soft and white.”

So they went down to the river and started to work. The girl had said to them that at midday she would go down and see how they were getting along. They were at work nearly all the forenoon on the skins. While the elder brother shaved the hair off, the younger one scraped them thin and softened them.

When the maiden came at noon, she said: “How are you getting along?”

“We have finished four and are at work on the fifth.”

“Remember,” said she, “you must finish all of them today or I shall have to send you home.”

So they worked away until a little before the sun set, when she appeared again. They had just finished the last. The Field-mice had carefully dressed all the others (they did it better than the men), and there they lay spread out on the sands like a great field of something growing, only white.

When the maiden came down she was perfectly overcome; she looked and looked and counted and recounted. She found them all there. Then she got a long pole and fished in the water, but there were none.

Said she: “Yes, you shall be my husbands; I shall have to submit.”

She went home with them, and for a long time they all lived together, the woman with her two husbands. They managed to get along very comfortably, and the two brothers didn’t quarrel any more than they had done before.

Finally, there were born little twin boys, exactly like their fathers, who were also twins, although one was called the elder and the other the younger.

After a time the younger brother said: “Now, let us go home to our grandmother. People always go home to their own houses and take their families with them.”