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Illustration Of The Method Of Recording Indian Languages
by J.O. Dorsey, A.S. Gatschet, and S.R. Riggs
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Transcriber's note: The following symbols are used to represent special characters: [n] = raised (superscript) "n" [t] = turned (inverted) "t" [k] = turned "k" [K] = turned "K" [T] = turned "T" k = "k" with inferior macron ḳ = "k" with inferior dot x = any letter "x" with superior macron x = any letter "x" with superior breve x = any letter "x" with acute accent x = any letter "x" with grave accent x = any letter "x" with superior tilde x = any letter "x" with superior circumflex ẍ = any letter "x" with superior diaeresis [ng] = lower-case "eng" character [x] = Greek letter chi [c] = "c" with slash (cent sign) ['] = single (curly) closing quote

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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION—BUREAU OF ETHNOLOGY.

J.W. POWELL, DIRECTOR.

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ILLUSTRATION OF THE METHOD

OF

RECORDING INDIAN LANGUAGES.

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FROM THE MANUSCRIPTS OF MESSRS. J.O. DORSEY, A.S. GATSCHET, AND S.R. RIGGS.

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ILLUSTRATION OF THE METHOD OF RECORDING INDIAN LANGUAGES.

HOW THE RABBIT CAUGHT THE SUN IN A TRAP.

AN OMAHA MYTH, OBTAINED FROM F. LAFLECHE BY J. OWEN DORSEY.

Egi[c]e mactciñ'ge aka i[k]a[n]' [c]iñke ena-qtci It came rabbit the his the st. only to pass sub. grandmother ob.

[t]ig[c]e jugig[c]a-biama. dwelt with his they own, say.

Kĭ ha[n]'ega[n]tcĕ'-qtci-hna[n]' 'abae ahi-biama. And morning very habit- hunting went thither ually they say.

Ha[n]ega[n]tcĕ'-qtci a[c]a-bi morning very went, they say

ctĕwa[n]' nikaci[n]ga wi[n]' si snedĕ'-qti-hna[n] notwith- person one foot long very as a standing rule

sig[c]e a[c]a-biteama. Kĭ ibaha[n] 3 trail had gone, they say. And to know him

ga[n][c]a-biama. Niaci[n]ga [c]i[n]' ĭ[n]'ta[n] wished they say. Person the mv. ob. now

wita[n][c]i[n] b[c]e ta miñke, e[c]ega[n]-biama. I-first I go will I who, thought they say.

Ha[n]'ega[n]cĕ'-qtci paha[n]-bi ega[n]' a[c]a-biama. Morning very arose they say having went they say.

Cĭ egi[c]e nikaci[n]ga ama Again it person the mv. happened sub.

sig[c]e a[c]a-biteama. Egi[c]e aki-biama. trail had gone, they say. It came he reached to pass home they say.

Ga-biama: [k]a[n]ha, wita[n][c]i[n] b[c]e 6 Said as follows, grand- I-first I go they say: mother,

a[k]idaxe ctĕwa[n]' nikaci[n]ga wi[n]' a[n]'aqai I make in spite person one getting for myself of it ahead of me

a[c]ai te a[n]'. [K]a[n]ha, u[k]ia[n][c]e he has gone. Grandmother snare

daxe ta minke, kĭ b[c]ize ta miñke hă. Ata[n] I make will I who, and I take will I who . Why it him

ja[n]' tada[n]', a-biama you should? said, do it they say

wa'ujiñga aka. Niaci[n]ga i[c]at'ab[c]e hă, old woman the Person I hate him . sub.

a-biama. Kĭ mactciñ'ge a[c]a- 9 said, And rabbit went they say.

biama. A[c]a-bi [k]ĭ cĭ sig[c]e [c]eteama. they Went they when again trail had gone. say. say

[K]ĭ ha[n]' tĕ i[c]ape ja[n]'-biama. And night the waiting lay they say. for

Man'dĕ-[k]a[n] [c]a[n] ukinacke gaxa-biama, kĭ sig[c]e bow string the noose he made it and trail ob. they say,

[c]e-hna[n] tĕ ĕ'di i[c]a[n]'[c]a- went the there he put it habitually

biama. Egi[c]e ha[n]'+ega[n]-tcĕ'-qtci u[k]ia[n][c]e [c]a[n] they say. It came morning very snare the to pass ob.

gi[t]a[n]'be ahi-biama. Egi[c]e 12 to see arrived they say. It came his own to pass

mi[n]' [c]a[n] [c]ize akama. Ta[n]'[c]i[n]-qtci u[c]a sun the cv. taken he had, Running very to tell ob. they say.

ag[c]a-biama. [K]a[n]ha ĭndada[n] went homeward, Grand- what they say. mother.

ei[n]te b[c]ize edega[n] a[n]'baaze-hna[n]' hă, it may be I took but me it habitually . scared

a-biama. [K]a[n]ha, man'de-[k]a[n] [c]a[n] said they Grand- bow string the say. mother, ob.

ag[c]ize ka[n]bdedega[n] a[n]'baaze-hna[n]'i hă, a-biama. I took I wished, but me it habitually . said they say. my own scared

Mahi[n] a[c]i[n]'-bi ega[n]' 15 Knife had they say having

ĕ'di a[c]a-biama. Kĭ eca[n]'-qtci ahi-biama. there went, they say. And near very arrived they say.

Piäjĭ ckaxe. Eata[n] ega[n] Bad you did. Why so

ckaxe ă. Ĕ'di gi-ada[n]' i[n][c]icka-gă hă, you did ? Hither come and for me untie it ,

a-biama mi[n]' aka. Mactciñ'ge said, they sun the Rabbit say sub.

aka ĕ'di a[c]a-bi ctĕwa[n]' na[n]'pa-bi ega[n]' hebe the there went notwith- feared they having partly sub. they say standing say

ihe a[c]e-hna[n]'-biama. Kĭ 3 passed went habitually they say. And by

[k]u'ĕ' a[c]a-bi ega[n]' masa-biama man'dĕ-[k]a[n] rushed went they having cut with they bow string say a knife say

[c]a[n]'. Gañ'ki mi[n]' [c]a[n] ma[n]'- the And sun the cv. on ob. ob.

ciaha aia[c]a-biama. Kĭ mactciñ'ge aka high had gone, they say. And Rabbit the sub.

aba[k]u hi[n]' [c]a[n] nazi-biama space bet. hair the burnt they the shoulders ob. yellow say

anakada-bi ega[n]'. (Mactciñ'ge ama aki-biama.) it was hot on having. (Rabbit the mv. reached home, it, they say sub. they say.)

Ĭtcitci+, [k]a[n]ha, 6 Itcitci+!! grandmother,

na[c]iñgĕ-qti-ma[n]' hă, a-biama. [T]ucpa[c]a[n]+, burnt to nothing very I am said, they Grandchild!! say.

i[n]'na[c]iñgĕ'-qti-ma[n]' eska[n]'+, burnt to nothing very I am I think, for me

a-biama. Ceta[n]'. said, they say. So far.

NOTES.

581, 1. Mactciñge, the Rabbit, or Si[c]e-maka[n] (meaning uncertain), is the hero of numerous myths of several tribes. He is the deliverer of mankind from different tyrants. One of his opponents is Ictinike, the maker of this world, according to the Iowas. The Rabbit's grandmother is Mother Earth, who calls mankind her children.

581, 7. a[c]ai te a[n]. The conclusion of this sentence seems odd to the collector, but its translation given with this myth is that furnished by the Indian informant.

581, 12. ha[n]+ega[n]tcĕ-qtci, "ve—ry early in the morning." The prolongation of the first syllable adds to the force of the adverb "qtci," very.

582, 3. hebe ihe a[c]e-hna[n]-biama. The Rabbit tried to obey the Sun; but each time that he attempted it, he was so much afraid of him that he passed by a little to one side. He could not go directly to him.

582, 4. 5. ma[n]ciaha aia[c]a-biama. When the Rabbit rushed forward with bowed head, and cut the bow-string, the Sun's departure was so rapid that "he had already gone on high."

ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THIS MYTH.

cv. curvilinear. mv. moving. st. sitting. sub. subject. ob. object.

TRANSLATION.

Once upon a time the Rabbit dwelt in a lodge with no one but his grandmother. And it was his custom to go hunting very early in the morning. No matter how early in the morning he went, a person with very long feet had been along, leaving a trail. And he (the Rabbit), wished to know him. "Now," thought he, "I will go in advance of the person." Having arisen very early in the morning, he departed. Again it happened that the person had been along, leaving a trail. Then he (the Rabbit) went home. Said he, "Grandmother, though I arrange for myself to go first, a person anticipates me (every time). Grandmother, I will make a snare and catch him." "Why should you do it?" said she. "I hate the person," he said. And the Rabbit departed. When he went, the foot-prints had been along again. And he lay waiting for night (to come). And he made a noose of a bow-string, putting it in the place where the foot-prints used to be seen. And he reached there very early in the morning for the purpose of looking at his trap. And it happened that he had caught the Sun. Running very fast, he went homeward to tell it. "Grandmother, I have caught something or other, but it scares me. Grandmother, I wished to take my bow-string, but I was scared every time," said he. He went thither with a knife. And he got very near it. "You have done wrong; why have you done so? Come hither and untie me," said the Sun. The Rabbit, although he went thither, was afraid, and kept on passing partly by him (or, continued going by a little to one side). And making a rush, with his head bent down (and his arm stretched out), he cut the bow-string with the knife. And the Sun had already gone on high. And the Rabbit had the hair between his shoulders scorched yellow, it having been hot upon him (as he stooped to cut the bow-string). (And the Rabbit arrived at home.) "Itcitci+!! O grandmother, the heat has left nothing of me," said he. She said, "Oh! my grandchild! I think that the heat has left nothing of him for me." (From that time the rabbit has had a singed spot on his back, between the shoulders.)

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DETAILS OF A CONJURER'S PRACTICE.

IN THE KLAMATH LAKE DIALECT. OBTAINED FROM MINNIE FROBEN, BY A.S. GATSCHET.

Maklaks shuakiuk kiuksash ka-i gû'l[']hi Indians in calling the not enter conjurer

hunkĕlam ladshashtat, ndena his into lodge, they halloo

sha'hmoknok; kiush toks wan kiukayank mû'luash m[']na to call (him) the conjurer red hanging out as sign his out; fox on a pole

kanita pî'sh. outside "of him."

Kukiaks tchû'tanish gatp[']nank wigata tchel[x]a Conjurers when treating approaching close by sit down

mā'shipksh. Lutatkish 3 the patient. The expounder

wigata kiukshĕsh tcha[']hlanshna. Shuyega close to the conjurer sits down. Starts choruses

kiuks, wewanuish the conjurer, females

tchīk winota liukiamnank nadshā'shak then join in crowding simultaneously singing around him

tchûtchtnishash. Hanshna while he treats He sucks (the sick).

mā'shish hû'nk hishuakshash, tatktish î'shkuk, diseased that man, the disease to extract,

hantchipka tcī'k he sucks out then

kukuaga, wishinkaga, mû'lkaga, kako gî'ntak, a small small snake, small bone after- frog, insect, wards,

kahaktok nanuktua whatsoever anything

nshendshkane. Ts[']û'ks toks ke-usht tchekĕle itkal; small. A leg being the (bad) he fractured blood extracts;

lulp toks mā'- 3 eyes but be-

shisht tchekĕlitat lgû'm shû'kĕlank kî'tua ing sore into blood coal mixing he pours eyes,

lû'lpat, kû'tash tchish into the a louse too

kshewa lulpat pû'klash tui[x]ampgatk ltui[x]aktgi giug. introduces into the the white protruding for eating out. eye of eye

NOTES.

583, 1. shuakia does not mean to "call on somebody" generally, but only "to call on the conjurer or medicine man".

583, 2. wan stands for wanam nī'l: the fur or skin of a red or silver fox; kanita pî'sh stands for kanitana latchash m'nalam: "outside of his lodge or cabin". The meaning of the sentence is: they raise their voices to call him out. Conjurers are in the habit of fastening a fox-skin outside of their lodges, as a business sign, and to let it dangle from a rod stuck out in an oblique direction.

583, 3. tchel[x]a. During the treatment of a patient, who stays in a winter house, the lodge is often shut up at the top, and the people sit in a circle inside in utter darkness.

583, 5. liukiamnank. The women and all who take a part in the chorus usually sit in a circle around the conjurer and his assistant; the suffix -mna indicates close proximity. Nadshā'shak qualifies the verb winota.

583, 5. tchûtchtnishash. The distributive form of tchû't[']na refers to each of the various manipulations performed by the conjurer on the patient.

584, 1. mā'shish, shortened from māshipkash, mā'shipksh, like k'lä'ksh from k[']läkapkash.

584, 2. 3. There is a stylistic incongruity in using the distributive form, only in kukuàga (kue, frog), kahaktok, and in nshendshkane (nshekani, npshekani, tsekani, tchekĕni, small), while inserting the absolute form in wishinkaga (wishink, garter-snake) and in kako; mû'lkaga is more of a generic term and its distributive form is therefore not in use.

583, 2. kahaktok for ka-akt ak; ka-akt being the transposed distributive form kakat, of kat, which, what (pron. relat.).

584, 4. lgû'm. The application of remedial drugs is very unfrequent in this tribe; and this is one of the reasons why the term "conjurer" or "shaman" will prove to be a better name for the medicine man than that of "Indian doctor".

584, 4. kû'tash etc. The conjurer introduces a louse into the eye to make it eat up the protruding white portion of the sore eye.



KALAK.

THE RELAPSE.

IN THE KLAMATH LAKE DIALECT BY DAVE HILL. OBTAINED BY A.S. GATSCHET.

Hä nayäns hissuaksas mā'shitk kalak, tsui kiuks When another man fell sick as then the relapsed, conjurer

nä'-ulakta tchu- concludes to

tanuapkuk. Tchui tchuta; tchui ya-uks huk shläa treat (him). And he and remedy this finds out treats;

kalak a gēk. Tchi (that) relapsed he. Thus

huk shuî'sh sapa. Tsui nā'sh shuī'sh sayuaks the song- indi- And one song- having remedy cates. remedy found out

hû'mtcha kalak, tchui 3 (that) of the kind then of relapsed (he is),

nanuk hûk shuī'sh tpä'wa hû'nksht kaltchitchikshash all those remedies indicate (that) him the spider(-remedy)

heshuampĕlitki would

giug. Tchui hû'k kaltchitchiks ya-uka; uba-us cure. Then the spider treats a piece of him; deer-skin

hûk kaltchitchiksam of the spider

tchutĕnō'tkish. Tsui hukantka uba-ustka tchuta; (is) the curing-tool. Then by means deer-skin he treats of that (him);

tätaktak huk 6 just the size that of the spot

kalak mā'sha, gä'tak uba-ush ktû'shka tä'tak huk relapse is so much of deer- he cuts as where he infected, skin out

mā'sha. Tsui hûk is Then suffering.

kaltchitchiks siunota nä'dskank hû'nk uba-nsh. the "spider" is started while applying that skin piece. song

Tchû'yuk p'laita And he over it

netatka skutash, tsui sha hû'nk udû'pka he a blanket, and they it strike stretches

hänä'shishtka, tsui hû'k 9 with conjurer's then it arrows,

gutä'ga tsulä'kshtat; gä'tsa lû'pi kiatega, enters into the body; a particle firstly enters,

tsui tsulē'ks k'läka, tchui then (it) body becomes, and

at pushpushuk shlē'sh hûk uba-ush. Tsui mā'ns now dark it to look at that skin-piece. Then after a while

tankĕni ak waitash after so and days so many

hû'k pûshpushli at mā'ns=gîtk tsulä'ks=sitk that black (thing) at last (is) flesh-like

shlä'sh. Tsi ni sayuakta; 12 to look at. Thus I am informed;

tumi hû'nk shayuakta hû'masht=gîsht tchutī'sht; many know (that) in this were effected men manner cures;

tsuyuk tsushni and he always then

wä'mpĕle. was well again.

NOTES.

585, 1. nayäns hissuaksas: another man than the conjurers of the tribe. The objective case shows that mā'shitk has to be regarded here as the participle of an impersonal verb: mā'sha nûsh, and mā'sha nû, it ails me, I am sick.

585, 2. ya-uks is remedy in general, spiritual as well as material. Here a tamanuash song is meant by it, which, when sung by the conjurer, will furnish him the certainty if his patient is a relapse or not. There are several of these medicine-songs, but all of them (nanuk hû'k shuī'sh) when consulted point out the spider-medicine as the one to apply in this case. The spider's curing-instrument is that small piece of buckskin (uba-ush) which has to be inserted under the patient's skin. It is called the spider's medicine because the spider-song is sung during its application.

585, 10. gutä'ga. The whole operation is concealed from the eyes of spectators by a skin or blanket stretched over the patient and the hands of the operator.

585, 10. kiatega. The buckskin piece has an oblong or longitudinal shape in most instances, and it is passed under the skin sideways and very gradually.

585, 11. tankĕni ak waitash. Dave Hill gave as an approximate limit five days' time.

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SWEAT-LODGES.

IN THE KLAMATH LAKE DIALECT BY MINNIE FROBEN. OBTAINED BY A.S. GATSCHET.

E-ukshkni lapa spû'klish gitko. Kukiuk The lake two sweat- have. To weep over people (kinds lodges of)

kĕlekapkash spû'klishla the deceased they build sweat-lodges

yepank käila; stutilantko spû'klish, käila digging up the ground; are roofed (these) with earth sweat-lodges

waltchatko. Spû'klish a covered. (Another) sweat-lodge

sha shû'ta kue-utch, kitchikan[']sh stinaga=shitko; they build of willows, a little cabin looking like

skû'tash a waldsha 3 blankets they spread

spû'klishtat tatatak sĕ spuklia. Tatataks a hû'nk over the when in it they sweat. Whenever sweating-lodge

weas lula, tatataks children died, or when

a hishuaksh tchimĕna, snawedsh wenuitk, kû'ki a husband became (or) the (is) they weep widower, wife widowed,

kĕlekatko, spû'klitcha for cause of death go sweating

tumi shashamoks=lolatko; tunepni waitash tchik sa many relatives who have lost five days then they

hû'uk spû'klia. 6 sweat.

Shiulakiank a sha ktai huyuka skoilakuapkuk; hutoks Gathering they stones (they) to heap them up those heat (them) (after use);

ktai ka-i tata stones never

spukliû't[']huīsh. Spuklish lupĭa huyuka; having been used for Sweat lodge in front of they heat sweating (them);

kelpka a at, ilhiat atui, heated (being) when, they bring at once, (them) inside

kidshna ai î ambu, kliulala. Spû'kli a sha pour on water, sprinkle. Sweat then them they

tumĕni "hours"; kelpkuk 9 several hours; being quite warmed up

geka shualkoltchuk peniak kō'ks pepe-udshak they (and) to cool without dress only to go leave themselves off bathing

ewagatat, koketat, e-ush in a spring, river, lake

wigata. Spukli-uapka mā'ntch. Shpotuok i-akewa close by. They will sweat for long To make them- they bend hours. selves strong down

kapka, skû'tawia young pine- (they) tie trees together

sha wewakag knû'kstga. Ndshietchatka knû'ks a sha they small with ropes. Of (willow-)bark the ropes they brushwood

shushata. 12 make.

Gatpampĕlank shkoshkî'l[x]a ktaktiag hû'shkankok On going home they heap up into small in remembrance cairns stones

kĕlekapkash, kta-i of the dead, stones

shushuankaptcha î'hiank. of equal size selecting.

NOTES.

No Klamath or Modoc sweat-lodge can be properly called a sweat-house, as is the custom throughout the West. One kind of these lodges, intended for the use of mourners only, are solid structures, almost underground; three of them are now in existence, all believed to be the gift of the principal national deity. Sudatories of the other kind are found near every Indian lodge, and consist of a few willow-rods stuck into the ground, both ends being bent over. The process gone through while sweating is the same in both kinds of lodges, with the only difference as to time. The ceremonies mentioned 4-13. all refer to sweating in the mourners' sweat-lodges. The sudatories of the Oregonians have no analogy with the estufas of the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico, as far as their construction is concerned.

586, 1. lapa spû'klish, two sweat-lodges, stands for two kinds of sweat-lodges.

586, 5. shashamoks=lolatko forms one compound word: one who, or: those who have lost relatives by death; cf. ptish=lûlsh, pgish=lûlsh; hishuakga ptish=lulatk, male orphan whose father has died. In the same manner, kĕlekatko stands here as a participle referring simultaneously to hishuaksh and to snawedsh wenuitk, and can be rendered by "bereaved". Shashamoks, distr. form of sha-amoks, is often pronounced sheshamaks. Tumi etc. means, that many others accompany to the sweat-lodge, into which about six persons can crowd themselves, bereaved husbands, wives or parents, because the deceased were related to them.

586, 7. Shiulakiank etc. For developing steam the natives collect only such stones for heating as are neither too large nor too small; a medium size seeming most appropriate for concentrating the largest amount of heat. The old sweat-lodges are surrounded with large accumulations of stones which, to judge from their blackened exterior, have served the purpose of generating steam; they weigh not over 3 to 5 pounds in the average, and in the vicinity travelers discover many small cairns, not over four feet high, and others lying in ruins. The shrubbery around the sudatory is in many localities tied up with willow wisps and ropes.

586, 11. Spukli-uapka mā'ntch means that the sweating-process is repeated many times during the five days of observance; they sweat at least twice a day.

* * * * *



A DOG'S REVENGE.

A DAKOTA FABLE, BY MICHEL RENVILLE. OBTAINED BY REV. S.R. RIGGS.

Su[ng]ka wa[ng]; ḳa waka[ng]ka wa[ng] waḳi[ng] wa[ng] Dog a; and old-woman a pack a

ta[ng]ka hnaka. U[ng]kan large laid away. And

su[ng]ka ḳo[ng] he sdonya. U[ng]ka[ng] wa[ng]na ha[ng]yetu, dog the that knew. And now night,

u[ng]ka[ng] waka[ng]ka and old-woman

istinman keci[ng] ḳa en ya: tuka waka[ng]ka ki[ng] asleep he thought and there went: but old woman the

sdonkiye [/c.]a kiktaha[ng] 3 knew and awake

wa[ng]ke, [/c.]a ite hdaki[ng]ya[ng] ape [/c.]a kicakse, lay, and face across struck and gashed,

[/c.]a nina po, keyapi. and much swelled, they say.

U[ng]ka[ng] ha[ng]ḣa[ng]na heha[ng] su[ng]ka tokeca wa[ng] And morning then dog another a

en hi, ḳa okiya ya. there came, and to-talk-with went.

Tuka pamahdeda[ng] ite mahen inina ya[ng]ka. U[ng]ka[ng] taku But head-down face within silent was. And what

icante nisica of-heart you-bad

heci[ng]ha[ng] omakiyaka wo, eya. U[ng]ka[ng], Inina if me-tell, he-said. And, still

ya[ng]ka wo, waka[ng]ka 3 old-woman

wa[ng] teḣiya omakiḣa[ng] do, eya, keyapi. U[ng]ka[ng], a hardly me-dealt-with, he-said, they say. And,

Toke[ng] niciḣa[ng] he, eya. How to-thee-did-she, he-said.

U[ng]ka[ng], Waḳin wa[ng] ta[ng]ka hnaka e wa[ng]mdake [/c.]a And, Pack a large she-laid-away I-saw and

heo[ng] otpa awape: therefore to-go-for I waited:

ka wa[ng]na ha[ng] teha[ng] kehan, isti[ng]be seca e en and now night far then, she-asleep probably there

mde [/c.]a pa timahe[ng] 6 I went and head house-in

yewaya, u[ng]ka[ng] kiktaha[ng] wa[ng]ke sta hecamo[ng]: I-poked, and awake lay although this-I-did:

ka, Si, de tukten and, shoo, this where

yau he, eye, [/c.]a itohna amape, [/c.]a decen you-come, she-said, and face-on smote-me, and thus

iyemaya[ng] ce, eye [/c.]a kipazo. she-me-left he-said and showed-him.

U[ng]ka[ng], Hu[ng]hu[ng]he! teḣiya ecanico[ng] do, And, Alas! alas! hardly she-did-to-you,

ihomeca waḳi[ng] ki[ng] u[ng]tapi 9 therefore pack the we-eat

kta ce, eye [/c.]a, Mniciya wo, eya, keyapi. Ito, Miniboza[ng]na will, he- and, Assemble, he- they Now, Water-mist said said, say.

kico wo, call,

ka, Yaksa ta[ng]i[ng] sni kico wo, Tahu wasaka kico wo, ka, and Bite not manifest call, Neck strong invite, and, off

Taisa[ng]pena His-knife-sharp

kico wo, eya, keyapi. U[ng]ka[ng] owasi[ng] wicakico: call, he-said, they-say. And all them-he-called:

ḳa wa[ng]na owasi[ng] en 12 and now all there

hipi heha[ng] heya, keyapi: Ihopo, waka[ng]ka de came then this-he-said, they-say: Come-on, old-woman this

teḣiya ecakico[ng] ce; hardly dealt-with;

minihei[/c.]iyapo, ha[ng]yetu hepiya waconica waki[ng] wa[ng] bestir-yourselves, night during dried-meat pack a

teḣi[ng]da ḳa on she-forbid and for

teḣiya ecakico[ng] tuka, ehaes untapi kta ce, hardly dealt-with-him but, indeed we eat will

eya, keyapi. 15 he-said, they say.

U[ng]ka[ng] Miniboza[ng]na eciyapi ḳo[ng] he wa[ng]na Then Water-mist called the that now

maġazukiye [/c.]a, a[ng]petu rain-made, and, day

oṡa[ng] maġazu ecen otpaza; ḳa wakeya owasi[ng] nina all-through rained until dark; and tent all very

spaya, wihutipaspe wet, tent-pin

olidoka owasi[ng] ta[ng]ya[ng] ḣpan. U[ng]ka[ng] heha[ng] holes all well soaked. And then

Yaksa ta[ng]i[ng] sni wihuti- 18 Bite-off-manifest-not tent-fast-

paspe ki[ng] owasi[ng] yakse, tuka ta[ng]i[ng]sni ya[ng] yakse enings the all bit-off, but slyly bit-off

nakaes waka[ng]ka so that old-woman

ki[ng] sdonkiye sni. U[ng]ka[ng] Tahuwasaka he waḳi[ng] the knew not. And Neck-strong he pack

ḳo[ng] yape [/c.]a mani[ng]- the seized, and away

kiya yapa iyeya, ḳa teha[ng] eḣpeya. Hecen Taisa[ng]pena off holding-in- and far threw-it. So His-knife- mouth-carried sharp

waḳi[ng] ḳo[ng] 21 pack the

cokaya kiyaksa-iyeya. Hece[ng] waḳi[ng] ḳo[ng] ha[ng]yetu in-middle tore-it-open. Hence pack the night

hepiyana temya- during they-ate-

iyeyapi, keyapi. all-up, they say.

Hecen tuwe wamano[ng] kes, sa[ng]pa iwaḣa[ng]i[/c.]ida So that who steals although, more haughty

wamano[ng] wa[ng] hduze, 24 thief a marries,

eyapi ece; de hu[ng]kaka[ng]pi do. they-say always; this they-fable.

NOTES.

588, 24. This word "hduze" means to take or hold one's own; and is most commonly applied to a man's taking a wife, or a woman a husband. Here it may mean either that one who starts in a wicked course consorts with others "more wicked than himself," or that he himself grows in the bad and takes hold of the greater forms of evil—marries himself to the wicked one.

It will be noted from this specimen of Dakota that there are some particles in the language which cannot be represented in a translation. The "do" used at the end of phrases or sentences is only for emphasis and to round up a period. It belongs mainly to the language of young men. "Wo" and "po" are the signs of the imperative.

TRANSLATION.

There was a dog; and there was an old woman who had a pack of dried meat laid away. This the dog knew; and, when he supposed the old woman was asleep, he went there at night. But the old woman was aware of his coming and so kept watch, and, as the dog thrust his head under the tent, she struck him across the face and made a great gash, which swelled greatly.

The next morning a companion dog came and attempted to talk with him. But the dog was sullen and silent. The visitor said: "Tell me what makes you so heart-sick." To which he replied: "Be still, an old woman has treated me badly." "What did she do to you?" He answered: "An old woman had a pack of dried meat; this I saw and went for it; and when it was now far in the night, and I supposed she was asleep, I went there and poked my head under the tent. But she was lying awake and cried out: 'Shoo! what are you doing here?' and struck me on the head and wounded me as you see."

Whereupon the other dog said: "Alas! Alas! she has treated you badly, verily we will eat up her pack of meat. Call an assembly: call Water-mist (i.e., rain); call Bite-off-silently; call Strong-neck; call Sharp-knife." So he invited them all. And when they had all arrived, he said: "Come on! an old woman has treated this friend badly; bestir yourselves; before the night is past, the pack of dried meat which she prizes so much, and on account of which she has thus dealt with our friend, that we will eat all up".

Then the one who is called Rain-mist caused it to rain, and it rained all the day through until dark; and the tent was all drenched, and the holes of the tent-pins were thoroughly softened. Then Bite-off-silently bit off all the lower tent-fastenings, but he did it so quietly that the old woman knew nothing of it. Then Strong-neck came and seized the pack with his mouth, and carried it far away. Whereupon Sharp-knife came and ripped the pack through the middle; and so, while it was yet night, they ate up the old woman's pack of dried meat.

Moral.—A common thief becomes worse and worse by attaching himself to more daring companions. This is the myth.

INDEX.

Conjurers' practice 583 Dog's revenge, a Dakota fable 587 Omaha myth 581 Revenge, A dog's; a Dakota fable 587 Sweat lodges 586

THE END

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