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for she always carried on her back ‘a small 
being much like herself. 
Only one without fault could see this 
miraculous creature, and when the voice 
called, he was obliged to follow as the sun 
goes around four times; then he would come 
to Pighish. He then must take the child, 
which immediately appeared to be human. 
The mother then pleaded for her infant and 
it was returned to her, whereupon she agreed 
to grant any wish asked. In returning the 
child, the face of the person had to be turned 
away as he stepped back, lest Pighish kill 
him with her long claws. 
This spirit is identical with the property 
women of the Haida and the Tlingit of the 
Coast. 
AN OLD LEGEND OF THE GREAT HORNED 
OWL 
There are many stories about the 
great horned owl (gwuk-gwu-nooks) but 
the one mentioned most often is in 
connection with the theft of children. 
One of the oldest of these legends, like 
that of the mountain goat, goes back to 
the days of Tumla-halm. 
During the winter season of extreme cold 
when the great communal houses were 
untenantable, the people occupied very small 
log structures — low, shedlike and chinked 
with moss. 
In one of these was a family including a 
little boy who cried continually. He was 
wrapped up in his rabbit-skin blanket and 
put to bed, but he would get up and crying 
go to one and another until the father said 
“Tf you do not stop the owl will take you.” 
Finally he went to the grandmother sleeping 
near the door, and when she pushed him 
away, the door opened and in truth the owl 
came in and carried him off. 
In the morning his family missed him, but 
they could hear his faint crying, so they 
searched far and wide but without any 
success. Then they commenced digging in 
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 
the ground, and from this incident the col- 
lection of winter huts below the main village 
received the name “An wurghash”’ (place 
where they dig). Finally the father took 
down his bow and quiver and putting some 
goat’s suet and red ochre in his bag, he set 
out through the woods. He had gone but a 
short distance when a grouse flew up from 
the trail and lit in a tree. Fitting an arrow 
to the bow the father was about to shoot, 
when the grouse cried, ‘‘Do not shoot for I 
will tell you of your lost boy, but first say if 
you have any goat’s fat and red paint in your 
wallet and will you paint red on my eyes?” 
This he did and the grouse said, ‘‘ How nice I 
look now! Go right ahead and you will see 
a big nest of twigs in a great spruce and in it 
is your boy.” The father reached the tree 
and climbing up found the boy asleep 
wrapped in his rabbit-skin blanket. This 
was the owl’s nest, and the owl had been feed- 
ing the child on live snakes, frogs and worms, 
telling him they were rabbits’ entrails. These 
ate through the child’s stomach and he finally 
died and his body was burned. 
In the fall of the year when the water was 
low and the barricade and salmon traps 
bridged the river, the villagers heard someone 
calling from the opposite shore, and soon they 
saw the owl which appeared more like an old 
woman. As she came to the bridge, she 
sang, ‘“‘Was it you that raised the child and 
took it away?’’ The father told some little 
boys playing about to pull out some of the 
foot boards and place dead sticks across so 
that any weight would break through. After 
doing this they called to the owl to come over 
knowing that she would press hard on the 
foot boards, and as she attempted to cross 
she broke through and fell into the river. 
As she floated downstream she came to a 
camping-place where children were hooking 
salmon. When they saw her they brought 
her to shore, but soon being frightened they 
ran away. Then she called, ‘““Come back 
my grandchildren and dry me.” They built 
a fire and wiped her feathers dry, when she 
became very vulgar in speech and they 
angrily threw her into the river and she was 
drowned. 
