Zuni Folk Tales

THE YOUTH AND HIS EAGLE-1

THE YOUTH AND HIS EAGLE

In forgotten times, in the days of our ancients, at the Middle Place, or what is now Shíwina (Zuñi), there lived a youth who was well grown, or perfect in manhood. He had a pet Eagle which he kept in a cage down on the roof of the first terrace of the house of his family. He loved this Eagle so dearly that he could not endure to be separated from it; not only this, but he spent nearly all his time in caring for and fondling his pet. Morning, noon, and evening, yea, and even between those times, you would see him going down to the eagle-cage with meat and other kinds of delicate food. Day after day there you would find him sitting beside the Eagle, petting it and making affectionate speeches, to all of which treatment the bird responded with a most satisfied air, and seemed equally fond of his owner.

Whenever a storm came the youth would hasten out of the house, as though the safety of the crops depended upon it, to protect the Eagle. So, winter and summer, no other care occupied his attention. Corn-field and melon-garden was this bird to this youth; so much so that his brothers, elder and younger, and his male relatives generally, looked down upon him as negligent of all manly duties, and wasteful of their substance, which he helped not to earn in his excessive care of the bird. Naturally, therefore, they looked with aversion upon the Eagle; and one evening, after a hard day's work, after oft-repeated remonstrances with the youth for not joining in their labors, they returned home tired and out of humor, and, climbing the ladder of the lower terrace, passed the great cage on their way into the upper house. They stopped a moment before entering, and one of the eldest of the party exclaimed: "We have remonstrated in vain with the younger brother; we have represented his duties to him in every possible light, yet without effect. What remains to be done? What plans can we devise to alienate him from this miserable Eagle?"

"Why not kill the wretched bird?" asked one of them. "That, I should say, would be the most simple means of curing him of his infatuation."

"That is an excellent plan," exclaimed all of the brothers as they went on into the house; "we must adopt it."

The Eagle, apparently so unconscious, heard all this, and pondered over it. Presently came the youth with meat and other delicate food for his beloved bird, and, opening the wicket of the gate, placed it within and bade the Eagle eat. But the bird looked at him and at the food with no apparent interest, and, lowering its head on its breast, sat moody and silent.

"Are you ill, my beloved Eagle?" asked the youth, "or why is it that you do not eat?"

"I do not care to eat," said the Eagle, speaking for the first time. "I am oppressed with much anxiety."

"Do eat, my beloved Eagle," said the youth. "Why should you be sad? Have I neglected you?"

"No, indeed, you have not," said the Eagle. For this reason I love you as you love me; for this reason I prize and cherish you as you cherish me; and yet it is for this very reason that I am sad. Look you! Your brothers and relatives have often remonstrated with you for your neglect of their fields and your care for me. They have often been angered with you for not bearing your part in the duties of the household. Therefore it is that they look with reproach upon you and with aversion upon me, so much so that they have at last determined to destroy me in order to do away with your affection for me and to withdraw your attention. For this reason I am sad,--not that they can harm me, for I need but spread my wings when the wicket is opened, and what can they do? But I would not part from you, for I love you. I would not that you should part with me, for you love me. Therefore am I sad, for I must go tomorrow to my home in the skies," said the Eagle, again relapsing into moody silence.

"Oh, my beloved bird! my own dear Eagle, how could I live without you? How could I remain behind when you went forward, below when you went upward?" exclaimed the youth, already beginning to weep. "No! Go, go, if it need be, alas! but let me go with you," said the youth.

"My friend! my poor, poor youth!" said the Eagle, "you cannot go with me. You have not wings to fly, nor have you knowledge to guide your course through the high skies into other worlds that you know not of."

"Let me go with you," cried the youth, falling on his knees by the side of the cage. "I will comfort you, I will care for you, even as I have done here; but live without you I cannot!"

"Ah, my youth," said the Eagle, "I would that you could go with me, but the end would not be well. You know not how little you love me that you wish to do this thing. Think for a moment! The foods that my people eat are not the foods of your people; they are not ripened by fire for our consumption, but whatever we capture abroad on our measureless hunts we devour as it is, asking no fire to render it palatable or wholesome. You could not exist thus."

"My Eagle! my Eagle!" cried the youth. "If I were to remain behind when you went forward, or below when you went upward, food would be as nothing to me; and were it not better that I should eat raw food, or no food, than that I should stay here, excessively and sadly thinking of you, and thus never eat at all, even of the food of my own people? No, let me go with you!"

"Once more I implore you, my youth," said the Eagle, "not to go with me, for to your own undoing and to my sadness will such a journey be undertaken." "Let me go, let me go! Only let me go!" implored the youth.

"It is said," replied the Eagle calmly. "Even as you wish, so be it. Now go unto your own home for the last time; gather large quantities of sustaining food, as for a long journey. Place this food in strong pouches, and make them all into a package which you can sling upon your shoulder or back. Then come to me tomorrow morning, after the people have begun to descend to their fields."

The youth bade good-night to his Eagle and went into the house. He took of parched flour a great quantity, of dried and pulverized wafer-bread a large bag, and of other foods, such as hunters carry and on which they sustain themselves long, he took a good supply, and made them all into a firm package. Then, with high hopes and much thought of the morrow, he laid himself to rest. He slept late into the morning, and it was not until his brothers had departed for their fields of corn that he arose; and, eating a hasty breakfast, slung the package of foods over his shoulders and descended to the cage of the Eagle. The great bird was waiting for him. With a smile in its eyes it came forth when he opened the wicket, and, settling down on the ground, spread out its wings and bade the youth mount.

"Sit on my back, for it is strong, oh youth! Grasp the base of my wings, and rest your feet above my thighs, that you may not fall off. Are you ready? Ah, well. And have you all needful things in the way of food? Good. Let us start on our journey."

Saying this, the Eagle rose slowly, circling wider and wider as it went up, and higher and higher, until it had risen far above the town, going slowly. Presently it said: "My youth, I will sing a farewell song to your people for you and for me, that they may know of our final departure." Then, as with great sweeps of its wings it circled round and round, going higher and higher, it sang this song:

Huli-i-i-- Huli-i-i-- Pa shish lakwa-a-a--

U-u-u-u-- U-u-u-u-a!

Pa shish lakwa-a-a--

U-u-u-u-- U-u-u-u-a!

As the song floated down from on high, "Save us! By our eyes!" exclaimed the people. "The Eagle and the youth! They are escaping; they are leaving us!"

And so the word went from mouth to mouth, and from ear to ear, until the whole town was gazing at the Eagle and the youth, and the song died away in the distance, and the Eagle became smaller and smaller, winding its way upward until it was a mere speck, and finally vanished in the very zenith.

The people shook their heads and resumed their work, but the Eagle and the youth went on until at last they came to the great opening in the zenith of the sky. In passing upward by its endless cliffs they carne out on the other side into the skyworld; and still upward soared the Eagle, until it alighted with its beloved burden on the summit of the Mountain of Turquoises, so blue that the light shining on it paints the sky blue.

"Huhua!" said the Eagle, with the weariness that comes at the end of a long journey. "We have reached our journey's end for a time. Let us rest ourselves on this mountain height of my beloved world."

The youth descended and sat by the Eagle's side, and the Eagle, raising its wings until the tips touched above, lowered its head, and catching hold of its crown, shook it from side to side, and then drew upon it, and then gradually the eagle-coat parted, and while the youth looked and wondered in love and joy, a beautiful maiden was uncovered before him, in garments of dazzling whiteness, softness, and beauty. No more beautiful maiden could be conceived than this one,--bright of face, clear and clean, with eyes so dark and large and deep, and yet sharp, that it was bewildering to look into them. Such eyes have never been seen in this world.

"Come with me, my youth--you who have loved me so well," said she, approaching him and reaching out her hand. "Let us wander for a while on this mountain side and seek the home of my people."

They descended the mountain and wound round its foot until, looking up in the clear light of the sky-world, they beheld a city such as no man has ever seen. Lofty were its walls,--smooth, gleaming, clean, and white; no ladders, no smoke, no filth in any part whatsoever.

"Yonder is the home of my people," said the maiden, and resuming her eagle-dress she took the youth on her back again, and, circling upward, hovered for a moment over this home of the Eagles, then, through one of the wide entrances which were in the roof, slowly descended. No ladders were there, inside or outside; no need of them with a people winged like the Eagles, for a people they were, like ourselves--more a people, indeed, than we, for in one guise or the other they might appear at will.

No sooner had the Eagle-maiden and the youth entered this great building than those who were assembled there greeted them with welcome assurances of joy at their coming. "Sit ye down and rest," said they.

The youth looked around. The great room into which they had descended was high and broad and long, and lighted from many windows in its roof and upon its walls, which were beautifully white and clean and finished, as no walls in this world are, with many devices pleasing to the eye. Starting out from these walls were many hooks or pegs, suspended from which were the dresses of the Eagles who lived there, the forms of which we know.

"Yea, sit ye down and rest and be happy," said an old man. Wonderfully fine he was as he arose and approached the couple and said, spreading abroad his wings: "Be ye always one to the other wife and husband. Shall it be so?"

And they both, smiling, said "Yes." And so the youth married the Eagle-maiden.

After a few days of rest they found him an eagle-coat, fine as the finest, with broad, strong wings, and beautiful plumage, and they taught him how to comform himself to it and it to himself. And as Eagles would teach a young Eagle here in this world of ours, so they taught the youth gradually to fly. At first they would bid him poise himself in his eagle-form on the floor of their great room, and, laying all over it soft things, bid him open his wings and leap into the air. Anxious to learn, he would spread his great wings and with a powerful effort send himself high up toward the ceiling; but untaught to sustain himself there, would fall with many a flap and tumble to the floor. Again and again this was tried, but after a while he learned to sustain and guide himself almost wholly round the room without once touching anything; and his wife in her eagle-form would fly around him, watching and helping, and whenever his flight wavered would fan a strong wind up against his wings with her own that he might not falter, until he had at last learned wholly to support himself in the air. Then she bade him one day come out with her to the roof of the house, and from there they sailed away, away, and away over the great valleys and plains below, ever keeping to the northward and eastward; and whenever he faltered in his flight she bore his wings up with her own wings, teaching him how, this way and that, until, when they returned to the roof, those who watched them said: "Now, indeed, is he learned in the ways of our people. How good it is that this is so!" And they were very happy, the youth and the Eagle-maiden and their people.