There was a man, Látka by name, who had an assistant who was called PóndandI. When Látka died, his daughter remained alone with PóndandI. PóndandI worked for her as he used to do for her father. One morning she arose and saw that there was no fire in the house. She walked out, and saw the assistant sitting on the other bank of the river, quite motionless. "Eh, PóndandI, PóndandI, why do you not make a fire? We are cold." He said nothing, but sat as before, looking at her quite steadfastly. So she made the fire herself. "Here, PóndandI, fetch some water!" He did not stir. She went for water herself. "Here, PóndandI, cook some food! We are hungry." He paid no attention. She cooked the brisket of a wild sheep. "O, PóndandI, PóndandI! what do you want?" He did not answer. "Come and have a meal!" He did not stir. She ate all alone, and went to sleep. The next morning she went out of the house. He was sitting on the very same place, looking at her more steadfastly than ever. She herself performed all the household work, and said nothing to him. When all was finished, she called, "Ah, PóndandI, PóndandI! what do you want?" He did not reply. "Perhaps you want a handsome suit of clothes. I will prepare them for you." He sat as before without answering, looking steadfastly at her.
She had a meal and went to sleep. The next morning she looked at the river, and he was sitting there as before. "O PóndandI, PóndandI I what do you want? Perhaps you want to take me for your wife?" He jumped up like a football, and danced about. After one tour he sat down again, and looked at her as steadfastly as before. She said nothing until the next morning. Then she went to the river, and said:--
"O PóndandI, PóndandI!
If you want to marry me,
Go and kill a big brown bear
For a blanket for me."
He jumped up and danced about, and then started off like an arrow. She said to herself, "Oh, let him go! Perhaps the bear will devour him, and I shall be rid of him." The next morning she went to the river, and PóndandI, was sitting there as before. "Ah!" thought she, "he is still alive." But when she came back to her house, a big bear's carcass was lying near the entrance.
"O, PóndandI, PóndandI!
Go and kill a big elk
For trimming my dress."
[paragraph continues] He jumped up again and danced off. In due time she went to sleep, saying to herself, "No he is surely dead." She arose in the morning and went to the river. PóndandI was sitting there, but a big elk's carcass lay near the entrance.
"O PóndandI, PóndandI!
If you want to marry me,
Go and kill a big mountain-sheep
For our wedding roast."
[paragraph continues] He jumped up and danced off. She said to herself, "Now perhaps he will fall down the cliff and be killed." The next morning she went to the river. PóndandI was sitting there, and a big mountain-sheep carcass was lying near the door.
"O PóndandI, PóndandI!
See there the big stone!
Go and bring it here
For our future children to play with."
[paragraph continues] He jumped up and danced off, "Ah," said she, "now the end is coming. The stone is too heavy. He will desist from his marriage projects."
The next morning she went out of the house; and a big mountain which had stood away back from the river had changed its place, and stood before the entrance.
"O PóndandI, PóndandI!
If you want to marry me,
Take a bow with arrows
And shoot an arrow up to the sky,
Then you must follow it,
As swift as your arrow."
[paragraph continues] He jumped off and caught his bow. He strung it and shot an arrow up to heaven. Then he jumped upward and followed the arrow. She looked up and followed him with her eyes, until he was lost out of sight. She waited and waited, but he did not fall back, and never descended. "Ah," said she, cc surely he fell down at some other place. No doubt he is dead." She went
to sleep, and in the morning she went again to the river. Nobody was there. "Ah!" sighed she," it is allover," and went back to the house. At that moment, however, a man came driving a team of reindeer. It was PóndandI. He tell down somewhere among a big herd of reindeer: so he caught a pair of reindeer, and after attaching them to a sledge, he drove off. Now he arose from his sledge. He was quite handsome, and his clothes were fine. He entered the house and sat down on the bed of the girl.
"O you visitor! Do not sit down on my place! My bridegroom will come, And he will blame me."
"I am your husband," said PóndandI. "No," said the girl, "you are not. His coat is of the worst kind of skins, and he himself is no more than a snotty youth."--"If you do not believe me, come out, and I will prove it to you." They went out, and he showed her his former clothes and the skin of a snotty youth in the tree. "Look there!" said PóndandI, "down the valley. My father and mother are passing there with a few of their herds." She looked down, and the whole valley was alive with reindeer,--bucks and deer, and small fawns. The old people came nearer, and their herd proved much more numerous than the herd of the girl. They joined their herds and lived there. Látka's daughter married PóndandI. The end.
Told by Anne Chain, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman, in the village of Markova, the Anadyr country, summer of 1896.
136:1 This tale is probably of Chuvantzi provenience. It is remarkable from the fact that some fragments of verse have been arranged in the form of an old Russian lay, although the life it describes is of native color. in the Kolyma country this tale has been transformed into a similar lay, more coherent in character, used chiefly as a lullaby. See No. 11, p. 138.--W. B.