THE RESUSCITATION OF THE ONLY

DAUGHTER

 

 

 

 

 

There once lived an old couple who had an only daughter. She was

a beautiful girl, and was very much courted by the young men of the

tribe, but she said that she preferred single life, and to all

their heart-touching tales of deep affection for her she always had

one answer. That was "No."

One day this maiden fell ill and day after day grew worse. All the

best medicine men were called in, but their medicines were of no

avail, and in two weeks from the day that she was taken ill she lay

a corpse. Of course there was great mourning in the camp. They

took her body several miles from camp and rolled it in fine robes

and blankets, then they laid her on a scaffold which they had

erected. (This was the custom of burial among the Indians). They

placed four forked posts into the ground and then lashed strong

poles lengthwise and across the ends and made a bed of willows and

stout ash brush. This scaffold was from five to seven feet from

the ground. After the funeral the parents gave away all of their

horses, fine robes and blankets and all of the belongings of the

dead girl. Then they cut their hair off close to their heads, and

attired themselves in the poorest apparel they could secure.

When a year had passed the friends and relatives of the old couple

tried in vain to have them set aside their mourning. "You have

mourned long enough," they would say. "Put aside your mourning and

try and enjoy a few more pleasures of this life while

you live. You are both growing old and can't live very many more

years, so make the best of your time." The old couple would listen

to their advice and then shake their heads and answer: "We have

nothing to live for. Nothing we could join in would be any

amusement to us, since we have lost the light of our lives."

So the old couple continued their mourning for their lost idol.

Two years had passed since the death of the beautiful girl, when

one evening a hunter and his wife passed by the scaffold which held

the dead girl. They were on their return trip and were heavily

loaded down with game, and therefore could not travel very fast.

About half a mile from the scaffold a clear spring burst forth from

the side of a bank, and from this trickled a small stream of water,

moistening the roots of the vegetation bordering its banks, and

causing a growth of sweet green grass. At this spring the hunter

camped and tethering his horses, at once set about helping his wife

to erect the small tepee which they carried for convenience in

traveling.

When it became quite dark, the hunter's dogs set up a great barking

and growling. "Look out and see what the dogs are barking at,"

said the hunter to his wife. She looked out through the door and

then drew back saying: "There is the figure of a woman advancing

from the direction of the girl's scaffold." "I expect it is the

dead girl; let her come, and don't act as if you were afraid," said

the hunter. Soon they heard footsteps advancing and the steps

ceased at the door. Looking down at the lower part of the door the

hunter noticed a pair of small moccasins, and knowing that it was

the visitor, said: "Whoever you are, come in and have something to

eat."

At this invitation the figure came slowly in and sat down by the

door with head covered and with a fine robe drawn tightly over the

face. The woman dished up a fine supper and placing it before the

visitor, said: "Eat, my friend, you must be hungry." The figure

never moved, nor would it uncover to eat. "Let us turn our back

towards the door and our visitor may eat the food," said the

hunter. So his wife turned her back towards the visitor and made

herself very busy cleaning the small pieces of meat that were

hanging to the back sinews of the deer which had been killed.

(This the Indians use as thread.) The hunter, filling his pipe,

turned away and smoked in silence. Finally the dish was pushed

back to the woman, who took it and after washing it, put it away.

The figure still sat at the door, not a sound coming from it,

neither was it breathing. The hunter at last said: "Are you the

girl that was placed upon that scaffold two years ago?" It bowed

its head two or three times in assent. "Are you going to sleep

here tonight; if you are, my wife will make down a bed for you."

The figure shook its head. "Are you going to come again tomorrow

night to us?" It nodded assent.

For three nights in succession the figure visited the hunter's

camp. The third night the hunter noticed that the figure was

breathing. He saw one of the hands protruding from the robe. The

skin was perfectly black and was stuck fast to the bones of the

hand. On seeing this the hunter arose and going over to his

medicine sack which hung on a pole, took down the sack and, opening

it, took out some roots and mixing them with skunk oil and

vermillion, said to the figure:

"If you will let us rub your face and hands with this medicine it

will put new life into the skin and you will assume your complexion

again and it will put flesh on you." The figure assented and the

hunter rubbed the medicine on her hands and face. Then she arose

and walked back to the scaffold. The next day the hunter moved

camp towards the home village. That night he camped within a few

miles of the village. When night came, the dogs, as usual, set up

a great barking, and looking out, the wife saw the girl

approaching.

When the girl had entered and sat down, the hunter noticed that the

girl did not keep her robe so closely together over her face. When

the wife gave her something to eat, the girl reached out and took

the dish, thus exposing her hands, which they at once noticed were

again natural. After she had finished her meal, the hunter said:

"Did my medicine help you?" She nodded assent. "Do you want my

medicine rubbed all over your body?" Again she nodded. "I will

mix enough to rub your entire body, and I will go outside and let

my wife rub it on for you." He mixed a good supply and going out

left his wife to rub the girl. When his wife had completed the

task she called to her husband to come in, and when he came in he

sat down and said to the girl: "Tomorrow we will reach the village.

Do you want to go with us?" She shook her head. "Will you come

again to our camp tomorrow night after we have camped in the

village?" She nodded her head in assent. "Then do you want to see

your parents?" She nodded again, and arose and disappeared into

the darkness.

Early the next morning the hunter broke camp and traveled far into

the afternoon, when he arrived at the village. He instructed his

wife to go at once and inform the old couple of what had happened.

The wife did so and at sunset the old couple came to the

hunter's tepee. They were invited to enter and a fine supper was

served them. Soon after they had finished their supper the dogs of

the camp set up a great barking. "Now she is coming, so be brave

and you will soon see your lost daughter," said the hunter. Hardly

had he finished speaking when she entered the tent as natural as

ever she was in life. Her parents clung to her and smothered her

with kisses.

They wanted her to return home with them, but she would stay with

the hunter who had brought her back to life, and she married him,

becoming his second wife. A short time after taking the girl for

his wife, the hunter joined a war party and never returned, as he

was killed on the battlefield.

A year after her husband's death she married again. This husband

was also killed by a band of enemies whom the warriors were

pursuing for stealing some of their horses. The third husband also

met a similar fate to the first. He was killed on the field of

battle.

She was still a handsome woman at the time of the third husband's

death, but never again married, as the men feared her, saying she

was holy, and that any one who married her would be sure to be

killed by the enemy.

So she took to doctoring the sick and gained the reputation of

being the most skilled doctor in the nation. She lived to a ripe

old age and when she felt death approaching she had them take her

to where she had rested once before, and crawling to the top of the

newly erected scaffold, wrapped her blankets and robes about her,

covered her face carefully, and fell into that sleep from which

there is no more awakening.