Now they held another council, for still there was no fire, and the
world was cold, but birds, snakes, and four-footed animals, all had
some excuse for not going, because they were all afraid to venture
near the burning sycamore, until at last Kanane'ski Amai'yehi (the
Water Spider) said she would go. This is not the water spider that
looks like a mosquito, but the other one, with black downy hair and
red stripes on her body. She can run on top of the water or dive to
the bottom, so there would be no trouble to get over to the island,
but the question was, How could she bring back the fire? "I'll manage
that," said the Water Spider; so she spun a thread from her body and
wove it into a tusti bowl, which she fastened on her back. Then she
crossed over to the island and through the grass to where the fire
was still burning. She put one little coal of fire into her bowl,
and came back with it, and ever since we have had fire, and the Water
Spider still keeps her tusti bowl.
3. KANA'TI AND SELU: THE ORIGIN OF GAME AND CORN
When I was a boy this is what the old men told me they had heard when
they were boys.
Long years ago, soon after the world was made, a hunter and his wife
lived at Pilot knob with their only child, a little boy. The father's
name was Kana'ti (The Lucky Hunter), and his wife was called Selu
(Corn). No matter when Kana'ti went into the wood, he never failed to
bring back a load of game, which his wife would cut up and prepare,
washing off the blood from the meat in the river near the house. The
little boy used to play down by the river every day, and one morning
the old people thought they heard laughing and talking in the bushes
as though there were two children there. When the boy came home at
night his parents asked him who had been playing with him all day. "He
comes out of the water," said the boy, "and he calls himself my elder
brother. He says his mother was cruel to him and threw him into the
river." Then they knew that the strange boy had sprung from the blood
of the game which Selu had washed off at the river's edge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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