The Colonial and Revolutionary Periods 11In one tale told among the Pomo tribe in northern California, a girl marries a rattle-
snake and bears him “four rattlesnake boys.” She visits her parents for a while, but then
happily returns to “Rattlesnake’s house” and, we learn, “has lived there ever since.” In
other stories circulated in the Southwest and the Plains, people marry buffaloes, in
others from the Northwest the spouse is a whale. In Passamaquoddy legend, it is the
great horned owl who carries off his human bride, using his skill on the flute to seduce
her. The girl, so the legend goes, “eventually became used to being married to the great
horned owl. Women have to get used to their husbands, no matter who they are.” That
laconic, stoical conclusion does not perhaps register the mystery, the magic to be
found in many of these tales of marriage between man, or more frequently woman,
and beast. More characteristic, in this respect, is the tale of a union between a girl and
a bear told by the Haida people. To express his love for his wife, the bear composes a
song in her honor, in which he declares, “I will give her berries from the hill and roots
from the ground. I will do all I can to please her.” “This is the Song of the Bears,” the
story explains, “whoever can sing it has their lasting friendship”; “that song to this day
is known among the children of the Haidas,” many of whom claim their descent from
the union between the author of the song and its subject. It is a testimony to the vital
relation between the human and animal, just as in its way the tale itself is.
Animals are familiar creatures in Native American lore; they are sacred; they
are also an important source of food. There is no necessary contradiction here, since
the animating belief is that what binds animals and humans together is a living web
of mutual aid and respect. A Brule Sioux story illustrates this. It tells of four brothers
who go hunting buffalo. They find and kill one and then, all at once, they hear “the
voice of the buffalo making human talk.” “Take the meat to nourish yourselves,” the
voice commands, “but put the skin, head, hooves, and tail together, every part in its
place.” The three older brothers ignore the command, feasting on the buffalo hump
and then falling asleep. But the youngest brother obeys. Having put the skin, head,
hooves, and tail together, he then sees “all the parts of the buffalo” reunite to form “a
fine strong buffalo who bellowed loudly” before disappearing into the hills. The
survival of the buffalo, as a source of food and an object of reverence, is assured for
the tribe. The three older brothers, having failed to participate in this rite ensuring
survival, are punished by being turned into rattlesnakes. Even as rattlesnakes,
however, they have their part to play in the tale of mutuality. The youngest brother
returns to them “four-times-four-days” after their metamorphosis, and they furnish
him with the “snake medicine” that will enable him to become a true warrior. Led by
the youngest brother, all the people of the tribe come to them as well, with offerings
of “tobacco and good red meat.” From then on, so the tale goes, “they protected the
people with powerful snake medicine every time we go to war.” “Rattlesnakes are our
cousins:” that is one lesson learned from this story. They are an intimate and magical
wellspring of power for the Sioux. And the buffalo are just as closely, mystically
related: that is the other lesson. The buffalo, as this story puts it, “gave his flesh so the
people might live.” Which is why, having killed the buffalo, the youngest brother
then prays to it: it is part of nature, part of him and part of the simultaneously
mundane and miraculous connection between the two.GGray_c01.indd 11ray_c 01 .indd 11 8 8/1/2011 7:54:53 AM/ 1 / 2011 7 : 54 : 53 AM