NELSON] THE LAST OF THE THUNDERBIRDS 487 



been carried away by the birds, that only the most daring would go 

 upon the great river. One summer day a brave young hunter started 

 out to look at his fish traps on the river, but before he went he told his 

 wife to be careful and not leave the house for fear of the birds. After 

 her husband had gone the young wife saw that the water tub was 

 empty, so she took a bucket and went to the river for water. As she 

 turned to go back, a roaring noise like thunder filled the air, and one of 

 the birds darted down and seized her in its talons. The villagers cried 

 out in sorrow and despair when they saw her carried to the mountain top. 



When the hunter came home the people hastened to tell him of his 

 wife's death, but he said nothing. Going to his empty house he took 

 down his bow and a quiver full of war arrows, and after examining 

 them carefully he started out toward the eagle mountain. Vainly did 

 his friends try to stoj) him by telling him that the birds would surely 

 destroy him. He would not listen to them, but hurried on. With firm 

 steps at last he gained the rim of the great nest and looked in. The 

 old birds were away, but the fierce young eagles met him with shrill 

 cries and fiery, shining eyes. The hunter's heart was full of anger, and 

 he quickly bent his bow, loosing the war arrows one after another until 

 the last one of the hateful birds lay dead in the nest. 



With heart still burning for revenge, the hunter sheltered himselt 

 by a great rock near the nest and waited for the parent birds. The 

 old birds came. They saw their young lying dead and bloody in the 

 nest, and uttered such cries of rage that the sound echoed from the 

 farther side of the great river as they soared up into the air looking 

 for the one who had killed their young. Very quickly they saw the 

 brave hunter by the great stone, and the mother bird swooped down 

 upon him, her wings sounding like a gale in the spruce forest. Quickly 

 fitting an arrow to his string, as the eagle came down the hunter sent 

 it deep into her tl roat. With a hoarse cry she turned and flew away 

 to the north, far beyond the hills. 



Then the father bird circled overhead and came roaring down upon 

 the hunter, who, at the right moment, crouched close to the ground 

 behind the stone and the eagle's sharp claws struck only the hard rock. 

 As the bird arose, eager to swoop down again, the hunter sprang from 

 his shelter and, with all his strength, drove two heavy war arrows 

 deep under its great wing. Uttering a cry of rage and spreading 

 abroad his wings, the thunderbird floated away like a cloud in the sky 

 far into the northland and was never seen again. 



Having taken blood vengeance, the hunter's heart felt lighter, and he 

 went down into the nest where he found some fragments of his wife, 

 which he carried to the water's edge and, building a fire, made food 

 offerings and libations of watef pleasing to the shade. ^ 



1 The truth of this tale is implicitly believed by the Eskimo of the lower Yukon. They point out 

 the crater of an old volcano as the nest of the giant eagles, and say that the ribs of old canoes and 

 curiously colored stones carried there by tlie birds may still be seen about the rim of the nest. This 

 is one of the various legends of the giant eagles or tliunderbirds that are familiar to the Eskimo of 

 the Yukon and to those of Bering strait and Kotzebiie sound. 



