Zuni Folktales

on the east wall will hang a white tray, and fastened to the ceiling will be a tray of many colors, while a black one will stand under the floor. And then ye must point to the trays and say: ‘These our mother made.’ Then they will believe and embrace ye and will not want to let ye go; but after ye have sat and eaten with them, ye must come back to the home of the Badgers. And the next day ye must go to Acoma to get your mother. Just before ye arrive at the town of Acoma ye will meet an old, wrinkled hag carrying a big bundle of wood on her back. Ye must call her ‘grandmother’ and greet her pleasantly. She will tell ye she is the dance-priestess of Acoma. Then ye must ask her why she, a woman, comes out to gather wood, and she will reply that she gets the wood to make a light. Then ask her why she wishes a light, and she will say to ye that day after day she lights a fire in her ceremonial chamber and that when she reaches home with her wood the young men of her clan come together and give her food, and that at night she takes the wood to the ceremonial chamber and then sits on a stone seat by the side of the fireplace and builds a fire; that the young men gather in the chamber and prepare for a dance. And when they are ready she takes the bones of your mother from a niche in the west end of the chamber and distributes them among the young men, who carry them in the dance. She gives the skull to the first one, the breastbone to the next, the ribs to another, and so on until they all have bones to carry in the dance. When the dance is over, she goes around and takes all the bones back again and replaces them in the niche. Then the young men depart for their homes, but some of them sleep there in the chamber, and then she lies down to sleep and to keep guard over the bones.

“Now, when she has told ye these things, ye must ask her if that is all. If she says ‘Yes,’ kill her; then skin her, and the younger brother must wave his hands over her skin and put it on, and he will look just like the old woman. And he must climb up to the town of the Acomas and enter and do just as the old woman said that she did.

“Now, after the dance is over and he has taken back all of the bones and replaced them in the niche, he must lie down and pretend to sleep, and some of the young men will go home; others will sleep there. When they all begin to snore, he must gather all the bones, and the two dried eyes, and the heart of his mother, and bring them away as fast as ever he can to where his brother waits. And when he gets there⁠—lo! she will come to life again and be just as she was before she was killed by the Twain. Now, mind, ye must not leave a single bone nor any part, for if ye do, your mother will lack that when she comes to life again.”

“Very well,” replied the boys, “we will do as you have told us; certainly we will.”

“Now, I have given ye with your birth the power to slay all game; but mind that not a single rabbit, nor deer, nor antelope, nor mountain sheep, nor elk⁠—though he be the finest ye have ever seen⁠—shall ye slay, for in that case ye shall perish with your mother.”

So the two boys promised they would not. “Of course we will not,” said the younger brother. “When one’s father commands him, can he disobey?”

“Come hither,” said the Sun-father to the younger brother. “Stand here.” So the little boy did as he was bidden.

“Lift up thy foot.” Then the Sun-father drew off the moccasin of bark and put beautiful fringed leggings upon it, and replaced the bark moccasins with buskins like his own, and tied up the leggings with many-colored garters, and dressed him as he was dressed, and placed a beautiful quiver upon his back. But the poor little boys were dark-colored, and their hair was tangled and matted over their heads. Then the Sun-father turned himself about as if to summon some unseen messenger, and created a great warm cloud of mist, with which he cleansed the boys, and lo! their skins became smooth and clear, and their hair fell down their backs in wavy masses. Then the Sun-father arranged the younger brother’s hair and placed a plume therein like his own, and beautiful plumes on his head.

“There,” said he to the elder; “look at thy younger brother.” But the poor little fellow was covered with shame, and dared only steal glances at his brother and the Sun-father. Then the Sun-father dressed the other like the first.

“Ti!” exclaimed they, as they looked at each other and at the Sun-father.

“You are just like Him,” they said to each other. But still they did not call him father. Then they fell to conversing.

“Why; he must be our father!” said they to each other. “Mother’s face has a black streak right down the middle of it, and father’s face is just like it, except that his chin is grizzly.” Then they knew that the Sun was their father, and they thanked him for his goodness.

Then said the Sun-father to them: “Mind what I have told ye, my children. I must go to my home in the heavens. Happy may ye always be. Ye are my children; I love ye, and therefore I came to help ye. Run home, now, for your father and mother who reared ye⁠—the Badgers⁠—are awaiting your coming. They will not know ye,