81. Hatcinondon: A Historical Tradition

Hatcinondon was a great warrior, the greatest among the warlike Seneca of the Iroquois Confederation.

Once Hatcinondon led a large company of warriors to the Cherokee country on a raid. In time they arrived at a place called Oyada Thadinongeh, which was within the Cherokee country. They knew well that the Cherokee were on the lookout for them. Having reached this place, Hatcinondon told his men to remain where they were, and that he would go ahead to spy out the land and to learn what could be done. Then he departed from the camp of his men. Soon it was discovered by the enemy that he was in the Cherokee country, and he was closely pursued by them. He fled into a region covered with a heavy growth of reeds, which was in two great sections, with a narrow strip of comparatively clear land between them. Hatcinondon managed to escape into one of these stretches, unobserved by the enemy, who believed that he had concealed himself in the other part. So they set guards at the narrow strip of land dividing the two sections of reedy land. After they had set fire to the reeds and burned them up they made a careful search for his charred body; but Hatcinondon had fallen asleep from exhaustion in the other stretch of reeds. During the night, however, two men came to him, who seized him by the arms, saying: “We have come for you.” When they had brought him to the place whence they had been sent, they said to him: “We have now brought you to this man who sent for you.” Whereupon the two men pointed out a lodge, with the words: “There is where the Heron lives who sent for you.” Hatcinondon went up to the lodge, but could find no doorway; but after he had searched for some time without success he heard a voice on the inside say, “Come in!” and a door opened of itself, and Hatcinondon entered the lodge. Within he found a man, who said: “I sent for you, and you have now come. Are you not hungry?” At this Hatcinondon thought: “This is a strange way; this is not the way I do. I would give the food at once.” But Ne Hononhsot, knowing the thought of Hatcinondon, laughing, remarked: “I said that only in fun.” Arising, he got half a loaf of bread made of corn meal, half a wild apple, and half a pigeon, which he offered to his guest. Hatcinondon said, laughing: “How little it is that will satisfy me.” To which Ne Hononhsot answered: “If you eat this I shall give you more.” As soon as Hatcinondon began to eat he saw that as he ate everything became whole again, so that he was not able entirely to consume anything. He was finally satisfied with what he had eaten. Then Ne Hononhsot said: “Now that you have finished eating I will speak with you further.”

While Hatcinondon was speaking he heard footsteps of someone approaching on a run, and suddenly the door was thrust open, whereupon the Sun came in so quickly and with such brightness that he had to hold his head down to shield his eyes. The newcomer conversed with Ne Hononhsot but Hatcinondon could not understand a word that was said. In a short time the visitor started off toward the east. Then Ne Hononhsot said to Hatcinondon: “This man is the one whom you Seneca call Endekha Gaahgwa. It is night now down on the earth, so he is hurrying toward the east. He told me of a great battle that is now ended.”

Ne Hononhsot was indeed Hawenniyo, and he said: “This is what I expected when I created human beings. I thought they would fight. The man who has just been here is the one who watches on the earth below. I want you to know that when you meet an enemy who shoots at you, you must not run away but must walk straight up to him. He shall not hurt you. An arrow shall not kill you. It is something else that shall kill you. Now you shall eat again.” Ne Hononhsot next gave him the same kind of food, one half of each object. Then he continued: “I am the cause that the Seneca do not now fight with the Cherokee, for I love both tribes. When you return home you will find all your people there, and they will know that you are alive. When you get back to your party of warriors you must tell them that they must leave the warpath at once and cease fighting, returning to their homes and remaining there until they shall find something to satisfy their wants. Now my messengers are ready to lead you back to your camp.”

Going out of the lodge, and directed by the messengers, Hatcinondon passed through an opening and soon found himself in the reeds where he was before he had been called away, and then the messengers departed.

Returning to his party of warriors, Hatcinondon told them what he had seen and heard. All went home, where they held a great council, and it was there agreed that the party should go to the Cherokee country in a couple of days. At the appointed time they started, while Hatcinondon went directly to the Cherokee lands again. He was not afraid, for he knew that an arrow would not kill him. In time the Seneca met the Cherokee, and a fierce fight took place. Remembering what he had been told, Hatcinondon, going straight to the enemy, killed and scalped a Cherokee warrior, whereupon he immediately proclaimed, “I have killed and scalped a warrior. My name is Hatcinondon.” He did this before any of the Cherokee knew that he was there. They had a great battle and many were killed. After the fight the party of Hatcinondon retreated to their homes. The news soon spread that this party had returned home with scalps.

Shortly after this affair another Seneca party started away to fight the Cherokee, and Hatcinondon accompanied it. They soon encountered the Cherokee, and in the ensuing fight Hatcinondon was captured. He was led away, bound, to the Cherokee village, where a great council of war was held. It was a standing rule with the Cherokee that when any person from the Six Nations of the Iroquois was captured his or her fate was left to the decision of two women, whose privilege it was to determine how such a person should be tortured. These two women at this council decided that Hatcinondon should be hung up and tortured to death by fire. So he was securely bound to a tree, the war post, and wood was carefully piled up under and around him. He had given himself up as lost. They were about to set fire to the pyre of wood when a violent rainstorm came up, causing the women to defer the execution until the storm should have passed over. All the people sought shelter from the storm, leaving Hatcinondon tied to the war post. While there alone he saw an old woman coming toward him, who said: “My grandson, you think that you are going to die, but you are not. Try to stir yourself.” Thereupon, moving himself about, he found that his bonds were loosened and that he was free. “You see now that you are free,” she said; “I thought that I would come to return your kindness. You remember your people once made a circle of fire and I was in the middle of it. You recall, perhaps, that you saw a toad in the middle, and that you saved the toad, placing it in your bosom. I was that toad. You carried me until you came to water, in which you placed me. This is the reason I am returning your kindness, for I see that you are in trouble now. I brought that rainstorm and now I want you to run in the direction of the next stream, and you must continue down the stream.”

When the rainstorm was over the two women returned to the war post, only to find that Hatcinondon had escaped. They gave the alarm at once, and the warriors assembled, calling the dogs, which forthwith took up the trail. Soon they reached the stream and followed the current. As Hatcinondon fled he came to a tree that leaned over the water. He found that the trunk was hollow and that he could get into it from the water and then crawl farther up. Here the dogs lost the trail and finally the pursuit was abandoned. When the pursuers had departed he heard two people approaching the spot, talking. Presently they sat on the tree at the very place where he was concealed. He overheard them say, “It is wonderful how that man escaped from us.” Hatcinondon was very careful not to cough lest he should be discovered. But at last he heard them depart and there was no further sound of talking. At last, having come out of the hollow in the tree, he went southward, down the stream. When night was approaching, while walking along he heard a blow which sounded like that of an ax on a tree. Being greatly frightened, he became very wary in his movements. While standing listening, he saw three men, who had made a fire where they were going to camp for the night. When darkness had fully set in he crept up stealthily, shielded by a very large tree. Standing behind this tree, he saw that the men were sound asleep and were snoring. Without disturbing them he secured their weapons, with which he armed himself, carefully hiding those he did not need. Then with an ax he killed the three men, whom he scalped. Thereupon he said: “The blood is too strong, so I shall go aside from this place.”

Taking their provisions, he went to a neighboring stream, where he made a fire. Having done this, he went back and dressed himself in the best of the garments of the slain men, for he was entirely naked; then he returned to his fire, and, having cooked his meal, he ate it. When he had finished his meal he prepared and painted the three scalps.

The next morning Hatcinondon, taking with him what provisions they had, traveled in a great circle until he had found the path by which he and his party had come to that country. Discovering fresh tracks leading both ways, he learned that his friends were still in the country. As he went along the path he saw smoke ahead, at the sight of which he stopped and listened to see whether he could hear Seneca speech. He was delighted to hear Seneca terms, and displaying the three scalps on a stick he called out, Goʹweh, goʹweh! three times. When his friends heard this, shouting for joy, they ran to meet him. They saw indeed that he had three scalps and brought him to their camp fire. They were glad that he had been found for they had watched day and night for his return, but had about concluded that he had been killed. Setting out for home, they found all their people well. This is the story.