Jeremiah Curtin

Creation Myths of Primitive America


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the mother of Pohila, took her son and went behind the sky; her husband, Tilikus, went with her. Poharamas went to Olelpanti. He flew up to where Olelbis is.

       Olelbis looked down into the burning world. He could see nothing but waves of flame; rocks were burning, the ground was burning, everything was burning. Great rolls and piles of smoke were rising; fire flew up toward the sky in flames, in great sparks and brands. Those sparks became kolchituh (sky eyes), and all the stars that we see now in the sky came from that time when the first world was burned. The sparks stuck fast in the sky, and have remained there ever since the time of the wakpohas (world fire). Quartz rocks and fire in the rocks are from that time. There was no fire in the rocks before the wakpohas.

      When Klabus escaped he went east outside the sky, went to a place called Pom Wai Hudi Pom. Tsaroki went up on the eastern side of the sky—ran up outside.

      Before the fire began Olelbis spoke to the two old women and said: “My grandmothers, go to work for me and make a foundation. I wish to build a sweat-house.”

      They dug out and cleared a place for the sweat-house the day before the world-fire began. Olelbis built it in this way: When the two women had dug the foundation, he asked—

      “What kind of wood shall I get for the central pillar of the house?”

      “Go far down south,” said the old grandmothers, “and get a great young white oak, pull it up with the roots, bring it, and plant it in the middle to support the house.”

      He went, found the tree, and brought it.

       “Now, my grandmothers, what shall I do next?”

      “Go north and bring a black oak with the roots. Go then to the west, put your hand out, and there you will touch an oak different from others.”

      He went north and west, and brought the two trees.

      “Now,” said Olelbis, “I want a tree from the east.”

      “Go straight east to a live-oak place, you can see it from here, get one of those live-oaks.” He brought it with the roots and said—

      “Now I want two trees more.”

      “Go to the southeast,” said they, “where white oaks grow, and get two of them.”

      He went and got two great white oak trees, pulled them up with the roots, brought them with all the branches, which were covered with acorns.

      Olelbis put the great white oak from the south in the middle as the central pillar; then he put the northern black oak on the north side; he put it sloping, so that its branches were on the south side of the house; over against this he put a southeastern white oak sloping in like manner, so that its head came out on the north side. The western oak he planted on the west side, sloping so that its branches hung on the east side; then he put up the two white oaks from the southeast on the east side: six trees in all. The top of each tree was outside opposite its roots; acorns from it fell on the opposite side. Olelbis wished to fasten the trees firmly together so they should never loosen.

       “Stop, grandson,” said one of the old women. “How will you bind the top?”

      “I have nothing to bind it with,” answered Olelbis.

      She put her hand toward the south, and on it came humus koriluli (a plant with beautiful blossoms). She took it with roots, stem, and blossoms and made a long narrow mat, the stem and roots all woven together inside and the blossoms outside. “Here, grandson,” said she, “put this around the top of the house and bind the trees with it firmly.”

      He did this. The binding was beautiful and very fragrant. He wrapped it around the trees where they came together at the top of the house inside.

      The two old women made four very large mats now, one for each side of the house. They wove first a mat of yosoü (a plant about a foot high, which has no branches and only a cluster of red flowers at the top). When they had finished it they told Olelbis to put it on the north side of the house.

      “Now, my grandmothers,” said Olelbis, “I want a cover for the east side.”

      “My grandson,” said each, “we are sorry that you are alone, sorry that you have no one to help you in building this house. Now take this mat and put it on the east side.”

      They gave him a mat made of the same plant that was used for a binding to hold the top of the house.

      “I want a cover now for the south side.”

       The old women put their hands to the east, and a plant came to them a foot high with white blossoms, of very sweet odor. A great deal of this plant came, and they made a mat of it. They put all the blossoms outside. The mat covered the south side.

      “Now, how shall I cover the west side?”

      “We have the covering here already, made of kin-tekchi-luli” (a plant with blue and white blossoms).

      They put that mat on the west side, the blossoms turned outward.

      The old women gave him all kinds of beautiful plants now, and flowers to form a great bank around the bottom of the sweat-house. All kinds of flowers that are in the world now were gathered around the foot of that sweat-house, an enormous bank of them; every beautiful color and every sweet odor in the world was there.

      When they went into the sweat-house, the perfume was delightful. The two old women said then:

      “All people to come in the world below will talk of this house, and call it Olelpanti Hlut when they tell about it and praise the house on high.”

      Olelbis said: “I want to lay something lengthwise on each side of the door. What shall I get?”

      The two said: “We will get sau” (acorn bread made in a great round roll like a tree-trunk).

      They got sau, and put a roll at each side of the door; these rolls were put there for people to sit on.

      Olelbis walked around, looked at everything, and said—

      “I want this house to grow, to be wide and high, to be large enough for all who will ever come to it.”

      Then the house began to extend and grow wider and higher, and it became wonderful in size and in splendor. Just as daylight was coming the house was finished and ready. It stood there in the morning dawn, a mountain of beautiful flowers and oak-tree branches; all the colors of the world were on it, outside and inside. The tree in the middle was far above the top of the house, and filled with acorns; a few of them had fallen on every side.

      That sweat-house was placed there to last forever, the largest and most beautiful building in the world, above or below. Nothing like it will ever be built again.

      “Now, my grandson,” said the old women, “the house is built and finished. All the people in the world will like this house. They will talk about it and speak well of it always. This house will last forever, and these flowers will bloom forever; the roots from which they grow can never die.”

      The world fire began on the morning after the sweat-house was finished. During the fire they could see nothing of the world below but flames and smoke. Olelbis did not like this.

      “Grandson,” said the old women, “we will tell you what to do to put out that terrible wakpohas. There is a very old man, Kahit Kiemila, and he lives far north toward the east, outside the first sky. He stays there in one little place; he is all alone, and always in the same place. Tell him what to do, and he will do it. If you don’t like the fire and smoke down below, tell the old man to turn his face toward you, to come this way and to bring with him Mem Loimis. He sits with his head between his hands and his face to the north, and never looks up. The place where he sits is called Waiken Pom Pui Humok Pom.”

      The first person who came to Olelbis on the day of the fire was Kiriu Herit. He came about daylight.

      “You have finished the sweat-house, my nephew,” said he.

      “I