“No, no!” they all said.  “What we want is to make the slopes of a lower incline, and to leave some level land, and do not make all the country mountains.”

This the bat did, and the principal men thanked him for it.  Thus the world has remained up to this day.

No rain was falling, and the five principal men despatched the humming-bird to the place in the east where the rain-clouds are living, to ask them to come over here.  The clouds came very fast and killed the humming-bird, and then returned to their home.  After a while the humming-bird came to life, and told the principal men that the clouds had gone back.  The people then sent out the frog with his five sons.  As he proceeded toward the east he left one of his sons on each mountain.  He called the clouds to come, and they followed and overtook him on the road.  But he hid himself under a stone, and they passed over him.  Then the fifth son called them on, and when they overtook him he, too, hid himself under a stone.  Then the fourth son called the clouds and hid, then the third son called, and then the second, and finally the first, who had been placed on a mountain from which the sea can be seen to the west of the sierra.  When the storm-clouds went away again, the frogs began to sing merrily, which they do to this day after rain, and they still hide under stones when rain is coming to the Cora country.

The rabbit in olden times had hoofs like the deer, and the deer had claws.  They met on the road and saluted each other as friends.  Said the deer:  “Listen, friend, lend me your sandals, to see how they feel.  Only for a moment.”  The rabbit, who was afraid the deer would steal them, refused at first, but at last he agreed, and the deer, putting them on, rose and began to dance.  “Oh, how beautifully it sounds!” he said.  He danced five circuits, and began to dance mitote and sing.  The rabbit sat looking on, and was in a dejected mood, fearing that the deer might not give him back his sandals.  The deer then asked permission to run five big circuits over the mountains.  The rabbit said no, but the deer went away, promising to come back directly.  He returned four times, but on the fifth round he ran away.  The rabbit climbed up on a mountain and saw the deer already far off.  He wanted to follow him, but he could not, because his feet were bare.  The deer never returned the hoofs to the rabbit, and hoofless the rabbit has remained to this day.

I had many interesting interviews with the old shaman whom the authorities had appointed to serve me.  He confided to me that for many years he had faithfully fulfilled his office as the principal singing shaman of the community, but that the people had once suddenly accused him of practising sorcery and wanted to punish him.  Being very intelligent and upright, he was of great assistance to me, and the more eager to do all he could for the grudge he bore his compatriots for accusing him of sorcery.  No doubt he was glad of my coming, as it gave him a chance to rehabilitate himself, since, for the first time in three years, he had been engaged to sing at the dance.  Be this as it may, I obtained much valuable information from him.  He could elucidate the trend of Indian thought better than any shaman I had hitherto met, and his talk was full of aphorisms and opinions with reference to Indian views of life.