Manataka® American Indian Council
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Deer Hunter and
White Corn Maiden
A Tewa Indian Legend
Long ago in the ancient home of the San Juan people, in a village whose
ruins cam be seen across the river from present-day San Juan, lived two
magically gifted young people. The youth was called Deer Hunter because even
as a boy, he was the only one who never returned empty-handed from the hunt.
The girl, whose name was White Corn Maiden, made the finest pottery, and embroidered clothing with the most beautiful designs, of any woman in the
village. These two were the handsomest couple in the village, and it was no
surprise to their parents that they always sought one anther's company.
Seeing that were favored by the gods, the villagers assumed that they were destined to marry.
And in time they did, and contrary to their elders' expectations, they began
to spend even more time with one another. White Corn Maiden began to ignore
her pottery making and embroidery, while Deer Hunter gave up hunting, at a
time when he could have saved many of his people from hunger. They even
began to forget their religious obligations. At the request of a pair's
worried parents, the tribal elders called a council. This young couple was
ignoring all the traditions by which the tribe had lived and prospered, and
the people feared that angry gods might bring famine, flood, sickness, or
some other disaster upon the village.
But Deer Hunter and White Corn Maiden ignored the council's pleas and drew
closer together, swearing that nothing would ever part them. A sense of doom pervaded the village, even though it was late spring and all nature had
unfolded in new life.
Then suddenly White Corn Maiden became ill, and within three days she
died. Deer Hunter's grief had no bounds. He refused to speak or eat, preferring to
keep watch beside his wife's body until she was buried early the next day.
For four days after death, every soul wanders in and around its village and
seeks forgiveness from those whom it may have wronged in life. It is a time
of unease for the living, since the soul may appear in the form of a wind, a
disembodied voice, a dream, or even in human shape. To prevent such
visitation, the villagers go to the dead person before burial and utter a
soft prayer of forgiveness. And on the fourth day after death, the relatives
gather to perform a ceremony releasing the soul into the spirit world, from
which it will never return.
But Deer Hunter was unable to accept his wife's death. Knowing that he might
see her during the four-day interlude, he began to wander around the edge of
the village. Soon he drifted farther out into the fields, and it was here at
sundown of the fourth day, even while his relatives were gathering for a
ceremony of release, that he spotted a small fire near a clump of bushes.
Deer Hunter drew closer and found his wife, as beautiful as she was in life
and dressed in all her finery, combing her long hair with a cactus brush in reparation for the last journey. He fell weeping at her feet, imploring her
not to leave but to return with him to the village before the releasing rite
was consummated. White Corn Maiden begged her husband to let her go, because
she no longer belonged to the world of the living. Her return would anger
the spirits, she said, and anyhow, soon she would no longer be beautiful,
and Deer Hunter would shun her.
He brushed her pleas aside by pledging his undying love and promising that
he would let nothing part them. Eventually she relented, saying that she
would hold him to his promise. They entered the village just as their
relatives were marching to the shrine with the food offering that would
release the soul of White Corn Maiden. They were horrified when they saw
her, and again they and the village elders begged Deer Hunter to let her go.
He ignored them, and an air of grim expectancy settled over the village.
The couple returned to their home, but before many days had passed, Deer
Hunter noticed that his wife was beginning to have an unpleasant odor. Then
he saw that her beautiful face had grown ashen and her skin dry. At first he
only turned his back on her as they slept. Later he began to sit up on the
roof all night, but White Corn Maiden always joined him. In time the
villagers became used to the sight of Deer Hunter racing among the housed
and through the fields with White Corn Maiden, now not much more than skin
and bones, in hot pursuit.
Things continued in this way, until one misty morning a tall and imposing
figure appeared in the small dance court at the center of the village. He
was dreaded in spotless white buckskin robes and carried the biggest bow
anyone had ever seen. On his back was slung a great quiver with the two
largest arrows anyone had ever seen. He remained standing at the center of
the village and called, in a voice that carried into every home, for Deer
Hunter and White Corn Maiden. Such was its authority that the couple stepped
forward meekly and stood facing him.
The awe-inspiring figure told the couple that he had been sent from the
spirit world because they, Deer Hunter and White Corn Maiden, had violated
their people's traditions and angered the spirits; that because they had
been so selfish, they had brought grief and near-disaster to the village.
"Since you insist on being together," he said, "you shall have your wish.
You will chase one another forever across the sky, as visible reminders that
your people must live according to tradition. If they are to survive." With
this he set Deer Hunter on one arrow and shot him low into the western sky.
Putting White Corn Maiden on the other arrow, he placed her just behind her
husband.
That evening the villagers saw two new stars in the west. The first, large
and very bright, began to move east across the heavens. The second, a
smaller, flickering star, followed close behind. So it is to this day,
according to the Tewa; the brighter star is White Corn Maiden, set there
after she had died; yet she will forever chase her husband behind across the
heavens.
From American Indian Myths and Legends, Richard Erdoes and Alfonso Ortiz,
editors. Copyright © 1984 by Richard Erdoes and Alfonso Ortiz.
Submitted by
From Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.