62 NEW YORK STATE MUSEUM 



head against her face as she caressed it. Under the wing of the 

 bird the heart of So-son-do-wah throbbed quick with love, but the 

 sun was near and he must return to the sky. Yet as the bird dis- 

 appeared, the mournful cry " ji-nya-ah, ji-nya-ah, ji-nya-ah " 

 wafted back to the earth. 



Again in midsummer, So-son-do-wah, grown restless, borrowed 

 the body of a blackbird and before dawn flew through the wood- 

 lands whistling " ga-go-ji, ga-go-ji." On the ash, elm, oak and 

 pine he rocked in the branches, whistling ga-go-ji, ga-go-ji, and he 

 swung on the vines that climb through the forest, whistling ga-go- 

 ji, ga-go-ji until a faint echo answered far down the riverside. 



There flew the blackbird, there stood the maiden, who whispered 

 " ga-go-ji, ga-go-ji, the blackbird is here! fruits are ripening and 

 the maize grows close to the sun." And she held out her hand 

 coaxing the bird down from the tree, and the sun-red hue of his 

 shoulder fringe flushed his night-black wings as, he flew to her call. 



" Ga-go-ji," she crooned as she stroked his soft wings, " I love 

 you, Ga-go-ji, you bring the sun to the berries. The maize knows 

 your voice as you lift from its fields." And close to her lips Ga-go-ji 

 lifted his beak. 



" It is I ! " So-son-do-wah plaintively sighed from the heart of the 

 bird, but the maiden heard not, and Ga-go-ji flew back to a forest 

 tree where shadows were hiding. 



In the autumn when the trees shed their leaves and the fur of the 

 elk grows long, So-son-do-wah crept into the heart of a giant night 

 hawk who was searching the rivers for prey. Through the mists 

 of the night all over the land, he called " gwa-diis, gwa-diis," but 

 the still air held the echoless cry. Down by the river far and far, 

 in piteous moans he called " gwa-diis, gwa-diis " till near the sun- 

 rise, when he found the beautiful maiden sleeping on the bank. 



" She is here! " whispered So-son-do-wah from the heart of the 

 hawk as it swooped down and, lifting her to its broad wings, bore 

 her to the skies, and all the rivers heard the joyful cry of "gwa-diis, 

 gwa-diis" as it wafted down with the dews. 



When the maiden awoke, Dawn, who was standing by the door 

 of her lodge, reproved So-son-do-wah for remaining so long on the 

 earth, and transformed the maiden into a star. As punishment to 

 So-son-do-wah for deserting his watch of her door, she invoked 

 the aid of her warrior attendants who seized him and bound his 

 arms. On his forehead they placed the new star, and in her hand 

 a flaming torch, and should he attempt to release himself, the 

 torch will consume him. 



