The gods sent forth their runners, the Sálamopia and the timid, fleet-footed Héhea, to summon all beings, and then, gathering themselves in a sacred song-circle, called in from the several chambers dancers in semblance of the Kâ'kokshi, or Dance of Good. And with these came, see! the little ones who had sunk beneath the waters, well and beautiful and all wonderfully clothed in cotton mantles and precious neck jewels. And these played, sad only with the sadness of their mothers, but resting from this sadness when in dreams these rested.

   And when the dancers paused, the gods turned to K'yäk'lu and said: "See! we begin, if you are ready."

   And lK'yäk'lu said, "It is well; I am ready; yes, even my heart listens," and following the cadence of their speech, he moved the Duck with her tinkling, talking shells, as a master of song moves his baton, or a dancer his rattle, and in solemn, ceaseless tone, as in singing yet with speech more steady, the gods, one by one, told to K'yäk'lu the things each best knew, whereof he so wondrously speaks when comes amongst us for the welfare of our little children, bringing them the sacred breath of the Kâ'kâ itself, and to their elders these same speeches of the gods.

   When, after a long time, they had finished, they further charged him with a message of comfort to the mourning mothers, and with commandments and instructions to men and the beings.

   Then they brought forth the sacred tobacco, and the master priestgods smoked in relationship with K'yäk'lu to all the six regions, and, rising, he was led in turn to the portal of each chamber, first to the northern, then to the western, southern, eastern, upper, and lower, and he placed his fingers on the sill of each, that in aftertimes he should know, though but dim of sight, or in the dark, the places of worship (which men then built, but poorly) from others, and in such either alone or to a chosen few who hold the rites of the Kâ'kâ, should therein tell and do the customs and words of the gods and tell of other such like precious ancient things.

   Then the Sá'lamopia lifted the ladder and guided K'yäk'lu and the Duck upward, showing them safely to the shore of the lake. When athe old ones (Kâ'yemäshi) heard the shells of the Duck tinkling, they came forth, bringing their litter and singing boisterously, for they loved K'yäk'lu as much as the light of the rising sun that fell upon him, as a raven loves bright shells or chips of glistening stone.





©1996, Richard Hooker

For information contact: Richard Hines
Updated 6-6-1999