The Revenge of the Two Brothers on the Háwikuhkwe, or the Two Little Ones16 and Their Turkeys
(The Origin of the Priests and Chiefs of the Dance of Victory)
Long, long ago, there lived on Twin Mountain, Áhaiyúta and his younger brother, with their grandmother. They had a large flock of Turkeys of which they were very fond, but were not so attentive to them as they should have been. Said the grandmother to the boys, late one morning: “Let your poor Turkeys out, for they will starve, poor birds, if you do not let them out oftener.”
“But they will run away, grandmother,” said the two boys, who did not fancy herding them much of the time.
“Why should they run away?” asked the vexed grandmother, who had a sorry enough time managing the two heedless boys. “Rest assured they will come back when roosting-time comes, for such is their custom.”
So the Twain ran down and reluctantly let their Turkeys go. The Turkeys were many—dirty old hens, piping, long-legged youngsters, and noisy old cocks; but they were all more noisy when they were let out, and not long was it before they were straying far beyond the border of woods and toward Háwikuh.
Not long after noon the flock of Turkeys strolled, gobbling and chirping, into the valley north of Háwikuh17 where many of the people of that pueblo had cornfields. Some young men who were resting from their hoeing heard the calls of the Turkeys, and, starting up, saw across the valley a larger flock than they had ever been wont to find. Of course they were crazy. They started up and ran as fast as they could toward the pueblo, calling out as they went what they had discovered, so that all the people in the fields began to gather in. As soon as they came within the pueblo, they sought out the Priests of the Bow and told them what they had discovered.
Very quickly ran the priests to the tops of the houses, and they began to call out to their people: “Ye we would this day make wise, for our sons tell us of many Turkeys in the valley over the hill; so hasten ye to gather together good bows and arrows, boomerangs, and strings, that ye may be made happy and add unto your flocks and make more plentiful the plumes in your feather boxes.”
In a very short time the people were rushing out of their doorways all prepared for the chase, and they ran after the young men and leaders as though in a race of the kicked stick.
Now, the sage-bushes and grasses grow tall to this day in the valley north of Háwikuh, and so they grew in the days long, long ago that I tell of. It thus happened that the poor Turkeys who were racing after grasshoppers, and peeping, and calling, and gobbling, did not know that the Háwikuh people were after them until they heard some old hens calling out in alarm from behind. Even then they were unable to get away, for the people were around them shouting and hurling crooked sticks, and shooting sharp arrows at them in all directions. Soon they began to fall on every side, especially the long-legged young ones, who so tangled their legs in the grasses that they could not keep up with their mothers, and were easily overtaken by the hunters of Háwikuh; and the old hens who stayed behind to look after the young ones were no better, and the cocks who stayed back to look after the old hens were even worse off, for the people sought them most because their feathers were so much brighter.
So it happened in a very short time that more than half the flock were killed and others were falling when a half-grown Long-leg started as fast as he could alone toward Twin Mountain.
It was growing late, and Áhaiyúta and his younger brother and their old grandmother were on top of their house shading their eyes and watching for the return of the Turkeys, when they saw the solitary young Long-leg coming, all out of breath and his wings dragging, over the hill below Master Canyon.
“Ha!” said the younger brother; “look! there comes a Long-legs—and what is he shouting?—Jump up, brother, jump up! Do you hear that?”
“I-wo-loh-kia-a—a—a!” called the Turkey, so that they could just hear him; and as that means “Murder! Murder!” you may think to yourself how much they were excited; but they were not so much alarmed as the old grandmother, “for,” said they, one to the other, “it is nothing but a youngster, anyway, and they are always more scared than the old ones.”
Nevertheless, they hastened down to meet him, and as they approached they saw that he was terribly frightened, so they anxiously waited until he breathed more easily and would stand still; then they asked: “What is it? Where is it? Why do you come alone, crying ‘Murder, Murder!’ ”
“Alas! my fathers,” exclaimed the Turkey. “Alas! I, alone, am left to tell of it; ere I left they were thrown down all around me.”
“Who did this?” angrily demanded the boys.
“The people of Háwikuh,” exclaimed the Turkey, glancing apprehensively around.
“Ha! we shall yet win back our loss,” ejaculated the boys to one another; and then they turned to the Turkey. “Are
