The Legend of the Tetons

 

Aubrey had to write an "Indian myth" for her English class. It had to be two pages long (hers ended up being much longer), include cliches often found in Indian tales, such as "many moons", and it had to be about how one of the landforms in Idaho was created. She of course came to me for help and I had a FIELD day. I miss having homework assignments like these.

Anyway, we thought about it for a little bit, and decided to do her myth on the Tetons. This is what we came up with. (Ignore the fact that it repeats the difficult names about a million times. That was our private little joke because the teacher had to read the legends out loud to the class and we thought it'd be funny if she kept having to say all these words.)

 

The Legend of the Tetons

            Long before the grass-covered flats of Northern America became known as the Valley of the Tetons, there lived a boy named Ciqala, which means “little one”. He longed to be a fearsome warrior like his father and brothers, but was mocked and ridiculed by the members of his tribe for his tiny stature. One day, the boy pleaded with his father for a way to prove he was more than just his size. He wanted a chance to prove he too could be a great warrior, but his father proclaimed, “Ciqala, you are simply too small. In order to be a warrior yourself, you must find a way to impress the fearsome warriors of our tribe, and this would be no simple task; especially considering your tiny size.”  

Discouraged--but not deterred--Ciqala thought of all the ways he could possibly impress the great warriors of his tribe. He remembered the legend of Hotah Tohapka, the white buffalo. Hotah Tohapka had eluded hunters for many years and had lived an extraordinary long life. Hotah Tohapka was worshipped and considered to be a sacred symbol to the people of the tribe. It was considered a great honor to see the buffalo. Legend stated that, he who could approach and ride the buffalo was destined to be the most fearsome of all great warriors.

That very night, Ciqala snuck out and used the full moon as his guide across the vast valley. He traveled for many nights until he finally found Hotah Tohapka grazing in a field of alfalfa. The buffalo watched intently as Ciqala attempted to approach. The buffalo turned to leave, but Ciqala pleaded with him, “Please, Hotah Tohapka. My name is Ciqala and I am here to prove to my tribe that I can be a great warrior. If you would just let me ride upon your back, my tribe would accept me as the greatest warrior to be born in many moons. You would bestow upon me a very great honor.”

Hotah Tohapka paused in consideration, then nodded for Ciqala to approach. The boy returned triumphantly to his tribe atop of Hotah Tohapka’s large, pale back. The great warriors of Ciqala’s tribe held a ceremony in his honor, officially welcoming him back as the greatest warrior in the land and gave him the new name, Ciqala-Cheveyo, meaning “little spirit warrior.”

Many years flew by and even though he never grew to be as large as the other warriors in his tribe, Ciqala-Cheveyo grew to be a great warrior indeed; always accompanied by the white buffalo, Hotah Tohapka.

Unbeknownst to Ciqala-Cheveyo or the members of his tribe, as the seasons came and went an enemy tribe was plotting against them. They envied the small warrior with the fearsome white buffalo and longed to take the beast for themselves. Rumors of Ciqala-Cheveyo’s small size only encouraged the enemy tribe, convincing them they would have success in taking the life of the little Indian man. The enemy tribe plotted for many seasons until the budding of the Quaking Aspen trees signaled to them that the time to take the white buffalo for themselves had come. Hundreds and hundreds of enemy tribesmen mounted their large, black steeds and headed out across the grassy countryside towards Ciqala-Cheveyo and his people.

That night, as Ciqala-Cheveyo and his brothers slept, Hotah Tohapka paced across the plains in agitation, the cold, Idaho breeze barely registering through his thick, heavy white coat. He had senses superior to any man or beast and sensed the impending danger of the enemy tribe’s approach. He knew their numbers would be great—far greater than those of his family tribe—and thought long and hard about how he could help to save those he loved.

Just before the sun was prepared to make his journey across the sky, Ciqala-Cheveyo awakened to a terrible trembling of the ground. At first, he thought there was an earthquake, but as he stood, he saw the enemy tribesmen, still far away, but approaching fast on horseback. They much represented an angry, omnipotent cloud. Ciqala-Cheveyo quickly awakened his fellow warriors and, with a sense of impending doom, all prepared for the imminent battle.

Hotah Tohapka watched the enemy’s swift approach and listened to the weeping of the women and children of Ciqala-Cheveyo’s tribe. He looked out over the miles of grassland separating his loved ones from the approaching enemy and, in that moment, he knew what he had to do. He turned toward Ciqala-Cheveyo, let out a large snort of air and signaled with his head for Ciqala-Cheveyo and his people to turn and flee. Before Ciqala-Cheveyo could object, Hotah Tohapka turned and raced toward the thick flood of enemies. He raced long and hard, gaining speed, then burrowed his massive frame deep into the ground, disappearing under the green earth. Then with great effort he heaved upward, pushing the rocky soil up and up with his strong, sturdy back. He pushed and heaved and pushed and heaved, and as he did the earth raised with his effort. It raised and raised growing more and more jagged, climbing higher and higher until a great mountain range formed between the stampeding enemy tribe and Ciqala-Cheveyo’s people.

The enemy tribe’s progress towards Ciqala-Cheveyo and his people was forced to a halt. Despite their best efforts, they could find no way over the large mountains that had formed before their very eyes. They returned to their people, heads hung low in defeat.

Ciqala-Cheveyo’s brothers rejoiced at having been saved and held a spiritual ceremony in Hotah Tohapka’s honor, thanking him for his heroic actions, but Ciqala-Cheveyo couldn’t bear to join the celebration. Instead, he packed a few belongings and headed toward the great mountain peak which had been created by the back of Hotah Tohapka. He climbed to the top of a peak near the largest of the three main peaks and began digging, hoping to save his beloved beast from his earthy tomb. He dug so long that the moon and the sun both had time to complete their casual journeys across the sky three times. He dug through the mountain until it was no longer a peak, then pounded the earth flat over and over again in aggravation, pleading for Hotah Tohapka to hear him, but there was no reply. He dug many caves into nearby mountains, trying to gain access, but again had no luck. Hotah Tohapka had perished with the effort of his heroic rescue. Lost without his life-long friend and companion, Ciqala-Cheveyo soon joined him in the heavens.

Many moons later (more than most can count) Hotah Tohapka’s mountains became known as the Grand Tetons and the valley that sheltered Ciqala-Cheveyo’s people became known as the Valley of the Tetons. The mountain top worn flat my Ciqala-Cheveyo’s desperate search for his pale friend became known as Table Mountain, and the caves he had dug in an attempt to rescue him soon were called the Caves of Wind.

The end.