In presenting this collection of Seneca myths and legends, the collator feels that he should explain to the general reader that he does not offer a series of tales that can be judged by present day literary standards. These Indian stories are not published for the mere entertainment of general readers, though there is much that is entertaining in them, neither are they designed as children’s fables, or for supplementary reading in schools, though it is true that some of the material may be suited for the child mind. It must be understood that if readings from this book are to be made for children, a wise selection must be made.

This collection is presented as an exposition of the unwritten literature of the Seneca Indians who still live in their ancestral domain in western New York. It is primarily a collection of folk-lore and is to be looked at in no other light. The professional anthropologist and historian will not need to be reminded of this. He will study these tales for their ethnological significance, and use them in making comparisons with similar collections from other tribes and stocks. In this manner he will determine the similarities or differences in theme, in episode and character. He will trace myth diffusion thereby and be able to chart the elements of the Seneca story.

There is an amazing lack of authentic material on Iroquois folk-lore, though much that arrogates this name to itself has been written. The writers, however, have in general so glossed the native themes with poetic and literary interpretations that the material has shrunken in value and can scarcely be considered without many reservations.

We do not pretend to have made a complete collection of all available material, but we have given a fairly representative series of myths, legends, fiction and traditions. One may examine this collection and find representative types of nearly every class of Seneca folk-lore. Multiplication is scarcely necessary.

The value of this collection is not a literary one but a scientific one. It reveals the type of tale that held the interest and attention of the Seneca; it reveals certain mental traits and tendencies; it reveals many customs and incidents in native life, and finally, it serves as an index of native psychology.

The enlightened mind will not be arrogant in its judgment of this material, but will see in it the attempts of a race still in mental childhood to give play to imagination and to explain by symbols what it otherwise could not express.

While there is much value in this collection explaining indirectly the folk-ways and the folk-thought of the Seneca and their allied kinsmen, the whole life of the people may not be judged from these legends. Much more must be presented before such a judgment is formed. Just as we gain some knowledge of present day religions, governmental methods, social organization and political economy from the general literature of the day, but only a portion, and this unsystematized, so do we catch only a glimpse of the life story of the Seneca from their folk-tales.

To complete our knowledge we must have before us works on Seneca history, ethnology, archÆology, religion, government and language. Finally, we must personally know the descendents of the mighty Seneca nation of old. We must enter into the life of the people in a sympathetic way, for only then can we get at the soul of the race.

While all this is true, these folk-tales are not to be despised, for they conserve many references to themes and things that otherwise would be forgotten. Folk-lore is one of the most important mines of information that the ethnologist and historian may tap. We can never understand a race until we understand what it is thinking about, and we can never know this until we know its literature, written or unwritten. The folk-tale therefore has a special value and significance, if honestly recorded.

METHODS EMPLOYED IN RECORDING FOLK TALES.

There are several methods which may be employed in recording folk-lore, and the method used depends largely upon the purpose in mind. A poet may use one method, and grasping the plot of a tale, recast it in a verbiage entirely unsuitable and foreign to it; a fiction writer may use another plan, a school boy another, a student of philology another, a missionary another, and finally a student of folk lore still another.

The poet will see only the inherent beauty of the story, and perhaps failing to find any beauty, will invent it and produce a tale that no Indian would ever recognize. Plot and detail will be changed, fine flowery language will be used, and perhaps the whole given the swing and meter of blank verse. This is all very well for the poet, but he has buried the personality of the folk-tale, albeit in petals of roses,—instead of allowing it nakedly to appear the living thing it is.

The fiction writer will take the original Indian tale and tear it apart with keen eyed professional discrimination. He will recast the plot, expand here and there, explain here and prune down there. He will invent names and new situations to make the story “go,” then, as a rule, he sells it to a magazine or makes a collection of tales for “a supplementary reader for children.” But are these Indian tales?

The amateur, finding good material in the Indian story will do as the fiction writer does, but he will work in foreign allusions and inconsistent elements and in other ways betray his unfamiliarity with his material. Like the fiction writer he is primarily after a story that he can dress as he pleases.

The sectarian enthusiast, recording folk-lore, will frequently seek to show the absurdity of the Indian tale, and point out the foolishness of peoples who are unacquainted with biblical teachings, but it is fortunate that all missionaries have not done this. Many have recorded folk-tales with great conscientiousness, and some of our best sources are from the notes of well informed missionaries.

The philologist will seek to make literal transcripts of every Indian word in painstaking phonetic spelling, and then secure an analytical interlinear translation. This is an accurate but awkward way of securing the tale, for readers who are accustomed to reading only straight English. It makes it a most tedious and laborious thing to read, and totally deprives the text of all literary life.

The student of folk lore starts in with a purpose. This is to secure the tale in such a manner, that without unnecessarily colored verbiage, it may be consistently dressed, and set forth in fluent English (or other modern language) in such a manner that it may be understood by an ordinary reader. The folk-lore student has still another motive and purpose, which is to so present his legend that it will awaken in the mind of his reader sensations similar to those aroused in the mind of the Indian auditor hearing it from the native raconteur. The recorder of the tale seeks to assimilate its characteristics, to become imbued with its spirit, to understand its details, to follow its language,—its sentences,—one by one, as they follow in sequence, and then he seeks to present it consistently. He adds nothing not in the original,—despite the temptation to improve the plot,—he presents the same arrangement as in the original, he uses similar idioms and exclamations, similar introductory words and phrases, and presents an honestly constructed free translation. This is far from an easy thing to do, for it frequently lays the recorder open to the charge of being a clumsy story teller. The temptation is ever present to tell a good story, and let the legend become the skeleton over which the words are woven. Needless to say, this is not an honest thing to do, and the folk-lore student resists this temptation, and gives his product a genuine presentation, regardless of what literary critics may think. He strives only to be the medium by which a native tale is transformed from its original language to that of another tongue. The thought, the form and the sequence of the story he insists must remain exactly as it was, though the verbal dress is European and not Indian.^[1]

Perhaps actual illustrations of these methods will serve to convey the thought we are attempting to explain. Examples follow:

TEXT IN SENECA WITH INTERLINEAR TRANSLATION.

There were, it seems, so it is said, man-beings dwelling on the other side of the sky. So just in the center of their village the lodge of the chief stood, wherein lived his family, consisting of his wife and one child, that they two had. He was surprised that then he began to become lonesome. Now furthermore, he the Ancient was very lean, his bones having become dried, and the cause of this condition was that they two had the child, and one would think, judging from the circumstances that he was jealous.

Such is the beginning of the Seneca version of Iroquoian cosmology as given by J. N. B. Hewitt in the 21st Report of the Bureau of Ethnology. This faithful record of a native text and its translation is literally a most painstaking work involving the closest attention to the minor sounds in the language, in order that each word may be phonetically recorded. To wade through this literal translation from the beginning to the end of the myth would be too tedious for anyone but an enthusiastic student of native tongues. To the majority of readers it would be a forbidding task. Even to follow the involved language and grammatical forms of the close literal translation would tire the mind of anyone whose mother tongue was not that of the text.

A free translation, therefore becomes a prime necessity, but this must not disturb the original thought. Just how to make such a translation honestly becomes a problem beset with difficulty. Our plan is to smooth out the language, divest it of its awkward arrangement, and allow the thought to flow on. Let us attempt this in the following:

FREE TRANSLATION.

In ancient times a race of transcendent men dwelt on the other side of the sky. In the center of a village in that land stood the lodge of Ancient One, the chief, and there he lived with his wife and one child. To his astonishment, though he had these companions, he began to feel lonely and neglected. His form grew emaciated and his “bones became dry,” for he longed for the attentions his wife now gave to his child.

Just how the poet would handle this version we hesitate to conjecture but we may easily imagine that he would make the most of the land above the sky, the celestial lodge, the age of the Ancient One, his initial joy at the birth of his child, and his gradual discovery that his wife’s affection had been transferred from him to their offspring, of the agony of soul that wilted his heroic form and caused his very bones to wither and lose their marrow, and of the final madness of the Ancient One, who (to follow the myth in its fullness), had a tormenting dream which caused him to tear up the celestial tree and cast his wife into the cavernous hole that dropped down into chaos.

The plot of this myth-tale has elements that make it excellent material for the fiction writer who would recast it entirely and weave it into the thrilling story of celestial tragedy. We have seen such attempts and have been astonished at the audacity of the writer who thus presents his product as a “genuine Indian myth.” Yet, most popular versions of Indian legends are recast to such an extent that the Indian who supplied the bones would never recognize the creature the white man “teller-of-tales” has clothed with civilized flesh. As an example of such fabrication, witness the speech of Hiawatha to the assembled tribes as presented by J. V. H. Clark in his “Onondaga.” (Vol. I, p. 28 ff.) This famous speech has been passed down as Hiawatha’s own words and has been the inspiration of more than one poet, though Clark admitted in later years that he invented the entire address, basing it upon some obscure references in the original tradition. In many a work on “Indian fables for children” the so-called fable is merely an invention, and the only Indian thing about it is the dash of Indian flavor used to give the story plausibility. Indians who have never seen or read the text of such stories of course might easily be induced in various ways to sign statements vouching for them, thus contributing to the intensification of error.

It is well to analyze the folk-tale or myth for its theme and to check it against others, thereby determining whether or not it is actually authentic. If it appears unusual and unlike anything other informants have given, it may be placed in the class of doubtful fiction, and especially so if the “fable” has a “moral” attached to it.

OBTAINING CORRECT VERSIONS.

It might be supposed that myths and folk-tales which are orally transmitted would suffer great changes as they pass from one story teller to another, and that in time a given tale would become utterly corrupted, and indeed so changed that it would bear faint resemblance to the “original.” Yet, an examination of the myths and legends recorded by early observers, as the early missionaries, show that the modern versions have suffered no essential change. An excellent example is the Iroquoian creation myth, as recorded by the Jesuit fathers in the Relations.

Religious traditions, ceremonies and myths, being of a “sacred” character, must be related with a certain fidelity which forbids any real change in the content. To a lesser degree, perhaps, but not much less, the “ga´gaa” legends of the Iroquois are protected from violent alteration. The legend is a thing, to the Indian mind, and it has a certain personality. In certain instances the legend is a personal or group possession and its form and content are religiously guarded from change. With tales told for mere amusement, tales belonging to the class of mere fiction, greater liberties may be taken.

Notwithstanding all this, it is certain that there are several versions of each legend. Certain groups tell the myth or legend in different ways. There are short versions and long versions and there are Seneca versions and Mohawk versions. In order to ascertain the “correct version” we must examine several versions as related by different narrators, and then after making an outline of the episodes, the characters and the motives, determine what the central theme of all is. We can in this manner judge what is essential and what is non-essential.

There is a wide variation in the language used in the narration of some legends, just as there is in the relation of modern stories told over the banquet table. A better example of variation, is to consider the innumerable versions of common nursery stories, as Puss in Boots, Cinderella, or Aladdin’s Lamp. Yet the theme of the story and the episodes, to say nothing of the characters, remain unchanged. Just so with most Iroquois folk-lore, much depends upon the author-raconteur. Some will add explanatory matter, some will add picturesque descriptions, some will add an abundance of conversation, and some will expand on the emotions of the characters. There is a wide individual variation in these matters, and much depends upon the training and education of the narrator, as well as upon his temperament. Language may differ somewhat, but the theme must remain,—the real story must never suffer essential change.

STORY-TELLING CUSTOMS OF THE SENECA.

Among the Seneca, in common with other Iroquois tribes, each settlement had its official story tellers whose predecessors had carefully taught them the legends and traditions of the mysterious past.

According to ancient traditions, no fable, myth-tale, or story of ancient adventure might be told during the months of summer. Such practice was forbidden by “the little people” (djoge´oⁿ), the wood fairies. Should their law be violated some djoge´oⁿ flying about in the form of a beetle or bird might discover the offender and report him to their chief. Upon this an omen would warn the forgetful Indian. Failing to observe the sign some evil would befall the culprit. Bees might sting his lips or his tongue would swell and fill his mouth, snakes might crawl in his bed and choke him while he slept, and so on, until he was punished and forced to desist from forbidden talk.

Certain spirits were reputed to enforce this law for two purposes; first, that no animal should become offended by man’s boasting of his triumph over beasts, or at the same time learn too much of human cunning, and fly forever the haunts of mankind; and second, that no animal, who listening to tales of wonder, adventure or humor, should become so interested as to forget its place in nature, and pondering over the mysteries of man’s words, wander dazed and aimless through the forest. To listen to stories in the summer time made trees and plants as well as animals and men lazy, and therefore scanty crops, lean game and shiftless people resulted. To listen to stories made the birds forget to fly to the south when winter came, it made the animals neglect to store up winter coats of fur. All the world stops work when a good story is told and afterwards forgets its wonted duty in marveling. Thus the modern Iroquois, following the old-time custom, reserves his tales of adventures, myth and fable for winter when the year’s work is over and all nature slumbers.

The story teller (Hage´ota’) when he finds an audience about him or wishes to call one, announces his intention to recite a folk-tale, (ga´gaa, or in the plural, gÄgÄ‘´shoⁿ’´o‘) by exclaiming “I’´newa’eÑgege´odeⁿ, Hau’´nio‘´ djadaoⁿ “diiⁿus!” The auditors eagerly reply “Heⁿ‘´” which is the assenting to the proposed relation of the folk-tale.

At intervals during the relation of a story the auditors must exclaim “heⁿ‘´.” This is the sign that they were listening. If there was no frequent response of “he,” the story teller would stop and inquire what fault was found with him or his story.

It was not only considered a breach of courtesy for a listener to fall asleep, but also a positive omen of evil to the guilty party. If any one for any reason wished to sleep or to leave the room, he must request the narrator to “tie the story,” “eⁿsegÄgha‘´a.” Failing to say this and afterwards desiring to hear the remainder of the tale, the narrator would refuse, for if he related it at all it must be from the beginning through, unless “tied.” Thus “eⁿsegÄha‘´a” was the magic word by which a legend might be told as a serial (from eⁿsege´ode).

A story teller was known as “Hage´ota’” and his stock of tales called “ganondas‘hÄgoⁿ”. Each listener gave the story teller a small gift, as a bead, small round brooch, beads, tobacco, or other trinket. To tell stories was called “eⁿsege´odeⁿ”, and the gift was termed “dagwa´niatcis,” now an obsolete word.

a as in father

a preceding sound, prolonged

a as in what

Ä as in hat

 as in all

ai as in aisle

au as ou in out

c as sh in shall

Ç as th in wealth

d pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, as in enunciating English th in with; the only sound of d employed in writing native words

e as in they

e as in met

f as in waif

g as in gig

h as in hot

i as in pique

i as in pit

k as in kick

n as in run

Ñ as ng in ring

o as in note

q as ch in German ich

r slightly trilled; this is its only sound

s as in sop

t pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, as in enunciating the English th in with; this is its only sound

u as in rule

u as in rut

w as in wit

y as in ye

dj as j in judge

hw as wh in what

tc as ch in church

ⁿ marks nasalized vowels, thus eⁿ, oⁿ, aiⁿ, eⁿ, Äⁿ, Âⁿ

‘ indicates an aspiration or soft emission of breath

’ marks the glottal stop, Ä’, eⁿ’

t‘h In this combination t and h are separately uttered, as th in the English words hothouse, foothold