What I am telling you is a true story, not a tale like those of Coyote and others I have been giving you. They are far back in the beginning, while this happened during the time of my ancestors. My mother told it to me once when I was in trouble, when I was having trouble of a certain kind. I was unhappy as a woman could be. You will understand why my mother told it to me. She said, "My daughter, you are in trouble. Listen while I tell you a story."


One time there were two sisters who got married. The husband of the younger girl was a very jealous man. He would not live among the other Indians with his young wife. They lived apart from them, lived alone, just the two. The man built a house of logs, different from the teepee, up in the edge of the timber. Many snows they lived thus, and he would for long times leave his wife alone. A great palout player, he would leave her in the mountain house while he spent his time gambling in the villages on the n-Che-wana. The woman was afraid. Her husband would tell her not to go away, not to go to anybody's house. She must stay home all of the time. He would say to her, "Do not go anywhere. Stay here by yourself."


Once the man went to the n-Che-wana for two weeks. The woman thought how badly her husband was treating her. She cried! Cried! Cried! For three nights and three dais she cried; then in the evening she went to bed. Soon as she lay down, she heard someone open the door. She thought, "There is my husband. He has come to me this night."


The man came and lay down by her side. She at once knew that he was different from her husband. There was a moon, and it was not dark in the house. She looked, saw him and thought, "What a nice-looking man, long hair, fine features!"


The man was silent for a short time, then spoke, Why are you so sorrowful? Do not feel badly because of the way your husband treats you. I came a long ways to see you. I am sorry for you. I came to see if we could not marry. Your husbind is not treating you right. I am feeling sorry for you."


There now came to the woman's nostrils a delightfully pleasing odor. IT was like the most delicate perfumery made from the mountain seeds and herbs. The man's blanket, everything about him was more aromatic and fragrant than anything that she had ever sensed. She looked at him. He was so splendid-looking, finer-appearing than any man she had ever seen. He said to her, "I will come every evening, come with the night. Then, the last time that I come, I will take you with me, take you to my home."


They talked! He amused the woman! She was happy! She laughed, forgetting her troubles, forgot all about her indifferent husband. The stranger said to her, "I will do everything for you. I will not treat you as your husband does." Finally they slept.


Early in the morning, just as it began to grow light, theman said to the woman, I will now leave you. I must go. Your husband might come and find me here. I will go, will stay away all day, but I will come again tonight."

The man arose and left her. All day she could smell that sweet odor, the herb and berry perfume. But it was nicer than any that the Indians could make. It was of the man. All that day she was lonesome for him. That night he came again. He came every night for about seven suns; then she felt sickly at her stomach. It was from smelling the perfumery. She liked it, but it made her feel ill. SHe had said to him, "You ought to take me home with you. I do not want my husband. I am will to go with you."

But the man had put her off. He would say, I will take you, but not tonight. I will take you to my home."

The woman was lonely, did not want to stay alone. She said, "We ought to go now."

This was the last night, when she had said this. But the man again put her off. He answered, No@ Not now."

When the light came, the woman look at the man in the early morning rays. Yes! He was a fine-looking man. He said to her "I am lonesome for you all day. I always wish night would come so I can see you ." Every morning at first down, he had said, "I must go!"

She never watched to see which way he had gone, but this last morning she thought, I will see which way he goes."

The man rose up and walked, walked like a man. He opened the door, looked back at her, and smiled. He said. "Good-bye!"

He closed the door back of him. The woman jumped up as quickly as she could. She peeped through a crevice between the logs. She saw the man stand for only a space, then fall down on his stomach. She looked closely. There was a wahk-puch. She was scared! She opened the door, watched it go. Yes! It was a rattlesnake, this, her fine looking man.

There was a rimrock on each side of the house, she saw the Thing crawling up towards one of these rims-- a white looking Thing --crawling high up. She saw it go into a crevice of the rocks. The woman now discovered that it was a rattlesnake smell which she had thought so sweet, so much nicer than the Indian-made perfumery. Then she cried! Cried! Cried! She cried out! It was a rattlesnake I have been sleeping with, this fine-looking man! I have slept with a rattlesnake!

The poor woman cried! Cried! Cried! The smell made her sick. You know the smell of the rattlesnake. It is different from all other odors, different from all other snakes. It makes you sick. The poor woman oculd eat nothing that morning. She said, "I will go to my sister! I will go stay with her. I do not want to sleep with that man! I thought he was a fine-looking man. He is a rattlesnake!"

The woman got ready, hurried as fast as she could. She arrived at her sister's. There were lots of people there. She was ashamed to tell her sister what had happened. She only said, "I am sick! I cannot eat!" She stayed with her sister. She grew poor, only skin and bones. If she ate, she threw it up. She could smell the rattlesnake all the time. She threw up everything. At last she was nearly dead.

In time the husband returned home from the n-Che-wana. He found his wife gone. He looked for her. He followed her to her sister's tepee. He was mean.

The sister asked the sick woman, What is wrong with you, my sister?"

The sick woman said, "I will tell you, my sister. I am going to die! I will tell you what has killed me. I made love with a rattlesnake!"

The husband did not know the wife; she was so poor. The sister said to him, "See your wife! It is all your foolishness. You did not take her to live like other people." The man cried. The sister knew all about what had killed her younger sister. She died from living with a rattlesnake. But she did not tell this to the husband.

The children of the older sister grew up and married. Their descendants are still living. The younger sister never had children.

This was the story told to me by my mother, An-a-whoa, who got it from her mother, Mo-qui-nee. My mother advised me, Do not worry about your husband. Everybody will know it. Evil spirits, every bad thing like the rattlesnake, will know about it. It will bring you trouble. Let it all go; forget all. This story may have occurred in the time of my grandmother, Mo-qui-nee; I do not know. The rattlesnake is bad. I am afraid of it.